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His encounter with Nikki was still racing through his mind. Everett still didn't know what to think or how to feel about everything that'd occurred between the two of them. Though he was still hesitant to trust his word, he knew better than to doubt it. The genuine and heartfelt emotion thrown into everything he'd said was unmistakable. As far as their departure went, they'd left on a... decent note. His cheeks still burned at the memory of having the other close enough to feel his breath on his face. The entire situation had been nothing short of a monstrous disaster, from the panic to the lack of understanding, all the way to the awkward humiliation and reluctant acceptance. He didn't want to keep thinking about it, but it just wouldn't leave him alone.
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There were still remnants of his rough and sudden meeting with the ground on his face. Fortunately his forehead had mostly healed over, leaving just his cheek and a rather bruised arc around his eye to tell the story. Everybody who'd asked had gotten the same answer: a bad run-in with a kid on a skateboard. He'd tripped and bashed himself up real good without much more to say about it. Those who knew him well enough took his word without a second thought. He was enough of a fool for them to believe that that was what'd happened, and those who weren't close with him took it with a grain of salt as well, because, well, why wouldn't they?
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Truthfully Everett was a little hesitant now to be wandering the streets by his lonesome, but he had places to be and things to do, and his silly anxiety couldn't keep him holed up in his room all day. Especially with Zero around. He still hadn't told him the truth, and he was struggling with imagining ever doing so. Sure, the man was his best friend, but... this was some serious shit. He didn't want him involved as well, even if it was just to get it all off his chest. With a weary sigh the musician shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, his breath leaving his lips in a tiny puff. The colder weather was not helping his downslope of a mood in the slightest.
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He was on his way seeking out venues, trying to line up as many shows as possible for the upcoming months. The battered skin on his face threw some of the patrons off, given they were more than familiar with having him around by now and it was rare to see him so rattled. He smiled it off and told his story like a broken record, snatching whatever dates he could for his group, maybe having even more success than usual out of generous pity. Whatever. If it worked it worked, and he was just glad to have some places booked before the sun started setting. That meant he could head home sooner than he'd been anticipating, and that was exactly what he planned on doing.
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A voice behind him threw him off however, but it was such a warm and welcoming one that he could probably melt with relief right into the cracks of the sidewalk. Joan. That poor fucking waitress, how was it she'd managed to find him again so soon? Everett looked back over his shoulder, just to make sure he hadn't imagined that it was her, and upon seeing her bright face he felt his frame loosen a bit, the stress somehow managing to trickle away like rainwater. "Joan," he greeted, hoping his happiness at seeing her wasn't too obvious in just his tone alone, "What're you doin' out here? I thought you lived in the diner." Yes, that was good, teasing was normal and he could play things off from there. Hopefully she just didn't mind his face too much.

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Joan's smile was contagious, and in a matter of seconds he found himself mirroring it, hardly paying any heed to the soreness in his cheek. Without thinking much about it, he followed the path of her hand, noting how long her hair really was now that it wasn't all pulled back and hidden from view. It looked soft and healthy, a warm color that accentuated the tone of her skin nicely. It made her freckles stand out all the more, and he found himself lingering on them for a moment, before her voice recaptured his attention. Shifting his gaze up to find her downcast eyes, Everett let out a little chuckle, his expression growing soft and amicable. Jesus, he'd hardly known the woman more than a few hours in total, and already he felt like he could share the world with her.
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"Oh no. That sounds terrible," he shot back, tone light with humor. Lucky him, having run into her out here. Her presence was friendly and normal, no hidden secrets, nothing to worry about, and he liked that. Everything crazy that had happened in his life just a few days prior, immediately after having met her, dissipated away in favor of her company. That is, until her eyes lifted to meet his, and she registered just exactly what it was that she was looking at. He saw the instant it hit her, and he felt his smile waver a little, his happiness sizzling out as he watched her hand move again. It hesitated between them, then found its way back to her own cheek. He could feel what her fingers drew as if they were rested upon his face instead.
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Feeling strangely sheepish, he shook his head, trying to wave off her concern with as much nonchalance as he could muster. After a day of doing this over and over again, it was becoming surprisingly tiring. "It's nothin', Joan, really." He could tell that his words did absolutely nothing to throw her off his trail. With a little sigh Everett shrugged a shoulder, stepping closer to get out of the way of other pedestrians. His voice dropped a bit in volume as he said, "I just had a bad run-in is all. This is the worst of it. I can't wait 'til it's healed over and everybody stops their worryin'." A tiny and chagrined laugh snuck its way out of him. For being the head of a band, he hated being at the center of attention. He could take care of himself. There were better things to put one's energy into.
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Tugging lightly on a few strands of her hair, playfully doing his best to deter the conversation, he continued on, "So what're you up to, now that you're stranded in the cold?"

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It was undoubtedly flattering to be the center of somebody else's attention, even if their focus happened to be laced with concern. Joan's care for him was unmistakable, and Everett knew he would feel it in return, should their situations ever be reversed. It wasn't something he would ever wish for, not in a million years, but already he felt similarly to what she was displaying now, and he could understand where she was coming from. Even if he found it silly for anybody to ever worry about him, he was grateful for it all the same. The young man hoped that at the very least, Joan could see that much in his eyes. He wasn't always the best at expressing himself, especially when it came to issues surrounding him and him alone, but it was important that she knew she wasn't being... entirely blown off.
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"Yeah, me too," he conceded in a mutter low under his breath, looking off to the side for a moment as he reflected on the events long past. Fuckin' Nikki... life had never been easy, he'd never wished for nor expected it to be, but being confronted by a hitman had never been on his bucket list. Now he was tangled up in the other's mess, and he knew it wasn't something he'd just be able to pretend had never happened. It was going to pop back up. One of these days, it was going to hit him in the face again, and he was going to be as frazzled as he was currently with trying to get out of it--not scratch-free, but breathing. Because he almost hadn't managed that the first time, and that alone had managed to scar him for life.
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Blessed Joan was clearly incredible at reading the atmosphere however, and thanks to her he didn't have to think on it further. Not for the present time, at the very least. Everett met her gaze head-on and smiled slightly, a single corner of his mouth just barely managing to tip into lopsided territory. His smile grew as hers reappeared, the tension in his shoulders seeping out once more. "Oh." He couldn't help but tilt his head curiously at the grin that lit up her face. Wasn't shopping usually something people... didn't look forward to? Or was that just him? Maybe his unasked question went noticed all the same, because in a moment's time he was getting the explanation he'd silently been wondering about. Ah... well that made some sense.
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Her little huff summoned a chuckle from his throat. Clearly she was brimming with care for those around her. Perhaps he wasn't quite so special after all for snagging her concern, and that helped him feel a tiny bit relieved. "Gotta love younger siblings." A faint wash of color hit his cheeks and he sheepishly rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, realizing that she could get the wrong idea from those few simple words. "Not that, uh, I would really know. I just... that's what I do to my brother whenever I visit him." Speaking of Gabriel, he really should give him a call one of these days. He'd been so busy, what with fretting over stuff both lethal and not, that he hadn't given it much thought as of late. Though, with how quiet it'd been on the other end as well, he figured Gabe must've been pretty busy too. Oh, the joys of adulthood.
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Blinking a couple of times, Everett cast his gaze down towards Joan, his surprise overtaking everything else running through his head. He hadn't zoned out, had he? "Huh?" Pop tarts? Wait, wait, had she just offered for him to join her? To... the grocery store? Oh yeah, he'd definitely zoned out. "Oh, um..." Ah, what the hell. Not like he had anything else to do. Before hearing her call for him he'd been on his way home. It would be good to have her company for a little longer, since she'd left the gate wide open. "Sure. I could probably use some more milk anyways." Smiling at her once more, he slipped his hands in his pockets and considered picking up some marshmallows too. Homemade hot chocolate was the best, and he had everything else he needed to indulge himself tonight.
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As soon as she started to lead the way, he quickly fell into step beside her, his elbow lightly brushing hers every so often as a person hurried by along his other side. It was always a rush nowadays, wasn't it?

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Another smile broke out across his face, chagrin tinting his features. "Guilty." Honestly he'd never put much thought towards having another sibling, especially one that would end up being younger than he was. If that had ever happened... well, he would've only been able to pray for the kid's wellbeing. Somehow both he and Gabe had managed to make it to adulthood, but that didn't mean they'd done it well. Having somebody else to watch over just sounded extremely stressful. And kinda scary. Everett wore himself out enough already with trying to keep up with his older brother. Possessing somebody else under his wing, relying on him all the more, just sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
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This was one thing he could truly be grateful for when it came to his parents. They had stopped at two, and maybe that was because they'd realized as soon as he'd broken out into the world and taken his very first breath that even that many had been a mistake. It sure gave them a lot to handle, two boys who were so drastically different, yet far, far too similar all at the same time. Raising the two of them had to have been exhausting. Maybe he couldn't blame them for their parenting techniques after all, even if there had been quite the number of questionable moments. Much of what they'd said to him still rang through his head to that day.
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Joan's enthusiasm was pleasantly adorable, and in addition, rather contagious. Even if Everett himself wasn't all too fond of going to pick out groceries, he couldn't help but feel at least a tiny bit of excitement over the excursion. Suppose it was his company that made it all the better. Taking his place by her side, he kept a lazy gait, casually letting out a soft yawn a minute or so into the trek. Another day of being beyond tired, but it wasn't something he much reflected on during the daytime anymore. When night swung around he'd start to get more antsy and anxious and all around done with life, but while the sun was still out he could push it off to fret about later.
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Ah, what he wouldn't give for a good smoke right about now though. It'd help at least a tiny bit with the nerves he could feel already dancing in his fingertips. If he had his guitar it'd be a healthier way of coping, yet there they were, out on the sidewalk with no instruments in sight. Self-consciously the brunet nibbled on his lip, wondering if Joan would mind if he pulled out a cig real quick. A brief touch of her shoulder against his and he turned, lips parted to ask out of nothing more than mere courtesy. His words snagged in his throat when he realized she was already looking his way. Eyebrows lifting of their own accord, he found his ability to speak dwindling even quicker than before.
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God, could she see the blush on his face? He really hoped she couldn't. Why was he even blushing over that anyways? She was just being nice, and honest, and sure maybe he was startled by how forward she was and how unaffected she seemed to be by her very own words, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. Fucking get a grip, man. Swallowing the lump in his throat down and away, Everett let out something of a chuckle. If it was nervous sounding, well, that was just reading into it a bit too much. "Yeah... 'course," he said, because coming with her hadn't been a question, not even a chore. The part that had him stalling was the invitation for deeper conversation.
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Lightly rubbing his cheek, hating himself for the bad habit an instant later because it hit his cuts and bruises just right, he ventured, "So what makes me so special? You might be settin' yourself up for disappointment, really. I'm not that cool." From the corners of his eyes he peered at her, hoping she'd acknowledge the slight teasing edge in his tone. She'd probably like Amy. Amy would be a lot more open about his personal life than he was willing to be--seriously, at least. He was always game to make a joke out of himself if that was what she was looking for.

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Loosely he smiled, not committing one way or the other to what she proposed. He wouldn't say he was selling himself short by any means, but he felt no urgent need to plead his case. Besides, he had a feeling that even if he tried, Joan wouldn't take it from him. She would believe whatever the hell she wanted to, and that was perfectly okay in a world like this. Everett lifted both of his hands in a conciliating gesture, palms facing forward as if he were being held at gunpoint. Alright, that was maybe the wrong comparison to make. Just the mere thought made a harsh shiver rattle down his spine, the memories of his night with Nikki slapping him in the face again. God, it'd stuck with him like superglue.
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Hoping his expression didn't betray his thoughts, Everett let out a light chuckle, quickly dropping his hands back to his sides. He shoved them into his pockets for good measure. "Only another dork would say that. Guess that means you're part of the club, Joan." He bumped her with his elbow, mimicking her earlier action. It was astonishingly easy to joke around with her, a wonderfully relaxing fact that made it easy to be himself in her company. It wasn't always a walk in the park to find people like that, people who you just clicked with. He knew from the moment he'd nudged her awake that he'd found a good one in the bunch. Settling into an easy pace, he lazed along beside her, by no means in any hurry to reach the grocery store.
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The singer slid his eyes back Joan's way, feeling for a brief moment like somehow she'd been reading his mind. Perhaps they really were just on the same wavelength, so much alike that it was almost scary. "No, fuck," he breathed out, relief creeping into his voice, "I was gonna ask you the same thing." Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a pack that he'd already put a fair dent into, popping the top open and offering her the pick of the litter. "I'm starting to think meeting you was like, a total accident on the universe's part, 'cause my luck is shit." And she was out of its league. The words went unsaid, but he had a feeling she'd be able to piece them together regardless. His awe of the situation wasn't hard to miss.

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It felt oddly fulfilling to muster a laugh from Joan. The kind that he could tell was genuine, soft and bright as sunlight, a beam of warmth as captivating as her smile. He found himself smiling back without even realizing it, his own slight chuckle slipping out from between chapped lips. "Yeah, I'm right there with ya." The look he gave her then was fond, a strange tie of affection already forming between him and the freckled waitress. He didn't know when it'd first started to weave itself from his presence to hers, but something about Joan was just so... gravitating. She felt like a friend he'd had for so long, and was only just now reuniting with after having gone far too long without a word. She felt comfortable. A right fit.
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He went to tug free his pack of cigarettes, planning to offer her one before even thinking to grab one himself. He couldn't help but laugh at her suggestion. Giving Joan the most dubious of looks, Everett merely lifted his eyebrows for a moment, catching how her gaze shifted across his features. Something changed in her expression, something nearly imperceptible, and he knew then that she also doubted her own words. No, there was no way his luck was beginning to turn. This was simply a fluke, but he wasn't about to question it and risk losing something actually good. He'd have to be crazy to do that. "I'm gonna go with a happy accident, definitely," he mused instead, finally presenting her with the pack.
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At her denial he hesitated a bit, watching as she felt around for what he assumed was a pack of her own. It really wasn't a big deal, he didn't mind sharing... After all, sharing was caring, right? And he couldn't lie about wanting to get to know her better, to maybe even become a friend, a close friend, if that string between them was anything to take note of. "You sure?" he asked, just as he took in the downslope of her frame. Quirking a brow in question, he waited for her to turn his way again, the pack still held between the two of them. He smiled a bit as she ended up taking one of the slim sticks after all. "Anytime. You forget yours at home or somethi-- Shit!"
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All notions of holding a vaguely normal conversation were lost as a man in a particular hurry rushed past, having no care whatsoever about the way he roughly shoved into him. As a result Everett ended up stumbling forward a little, bumping into Joan as well and feeling his body waver with the impact. He was fine an instant later, only just a little ruffled by the contact. What bothered him more than the rude passerby was that his remaining cigarettes had fallen free from the carton, now scattered all along the wet, cold sidewalk and into the dirty street. "Nooo, dammit," he mumbled dejectedly, successfully halted in his tracks. Well, so much for that idea.

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Thank God he had Joan to stand up for him. Her voice was sharp and clear in his ear, the grip of her hands firm yet gentle on his arms. He smiled a bit, just briefly, before the realization hit him. No, not his fucking cigarettes. There'd been at least four left, maybe even five, all waiting to assist him when his nerves got the better of him in the middle of the night. Now they were nothing more than soggy rolls of paper on the ground, and he felt greatly saddened by this. "Why me..." he mumbled further to himself, nudging one of the sticks with the toe of his shoe. The rest had successfully made their way onto the street or in-between the cracks of the sidewalk, and there was no saving them. So much for easing the slight buzz in his body. Joan was going to have all the fun and he was going to have to watch.
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Looking back up to her, Everett sighed, slipping the empty pack back into his pocket. He'd pitch it once they reached the grocery store; for now it remained nothing more than an empty coffin full of unfulfilled dreams. "Sorry, I didn't mean to run into you," he said, furrowing his eyebrows and rolling his shoulders a bit to shake the situation off. He was still irked that the guy hadn't even uttered an apology over his shoulder, hadn't acknowledged the incident or sent a mere glance their way. People sucked. The sad thing was there was a greater population resembling the man who'd run into him than not. The city was full of individuals who couldn't care less about the lives they crossed paths with, and he hated that fact.
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Watching as Joan reached back into her pocket, he accepted what was left of the moment and readied himself to leave his fallen children behind. He could just buy a new pack at the store, it really wasn't a problem. Yet a light pressure on his shoulder stopped him from starting the trek again and he paused, feeling a weird flutter trickle its way through his chest. "Oh. Really, Joan, it's okay, don't worry about it." He spoke the words but his tone betrayed him, giving away how much he appreciated just the mere offer. Damn, she was nice as fuck. Cool as fuck, and nice as fuck. Everett was a little disappointed he hadn't met her sooner in his life. He had a feeling she would've been able to help him through a lot of things just by simply being around.
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He waited patiently, his hands back in his pockets to fend off the cold, oddly taken by the way she so easily pulled smoke into her lungs. Hot as fuck too? Well shit, he was being hit by countless revelations this evening, it seemed. Softly Everett cleared his throat and looked down for a fraction of a second, then lifted his gaze back up, presenting the waitress with a typical crooked smile of his. Gratefully he took the cigarette from between her fingers and inhaled quick and deep, feeling his shoulders loosen almost immediately from the familiar taste blanketing his tongue. Better. Much better. "You are," he breathed out, a similar trail of wisps drifting into the air as he spoke, "the best. Thanks." He offered the cigarette back and nodded his head to the side, an invitation to carry on. Maybe she was right about his luck turning around after all.

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