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Dani has never been very good at saying no to things. That's been the case ever since she was young, really, not wanting to be burdensome or to take up too much space. Growing up, as her sister's problems got bigger, she — on some barely conscious level — made herself smaller, any problems she had paling in comparison, any needs she had less important. She's aware of that tendency now, and the ramifications it's had on her adult life, but in a distant, hazy way, something part of her is afraid to examine too closely for what she might find if she did. It would call too much into question.
It's easier just not to go there, just like it's easier not to argue when she gets looped into other people's plans. She likes most of the other students in her psych classes, and it's nice to be included — to have people who consider her a friend, even if tangentially so, someone who gets invited on group outings but doesn't really spend time with any of them one-on-one or have deep personal conversations. It suits her just as well. She doesn't like to talk about herself or her life.
Another thing she's not very good at, though, is being social. She can fake it well enough, but it usually amounts to her standing or sitting off to the side, only halfway taking everything in. Such is the case tonight. The others are chatting boisterously, and Dani, meanwhile, sits at the far end of the table they've commandeered, idly twirling the glass of the drink she's barely had any of. It's fine. It's not ideal, but it's fine. She just wishes she'd brought some of her homework to try to get done.
A sudden gust of cool air signals the door to the bar opening. She doesn't think much of it until a few minutes later, when she happens to glance over at the bar and sees Vanya standing there, suit-clad and violin in tow. Excusing herself from the table, though she doesn't think anyone hears her, Dani heads over, angling her way in when there's an opening, smile lopsided and a touch awkward.
"Vanya? Hey," she says, gesturing to the violin. "Did you have a performance?"
It's easier just not to go there, just like it's easier not to argue when she gets looped into other people's plans. She likes most of the other students in her psych classes, and it's nice to be included — to have people who consider her a friend, even if tangentially so, someone who gets invited on group outings but doesn't really spend time with any of them one-on-one or have deep personal conversations. It suits her just as well. She doesn't like to talk about herself or her life.
Another thing she's not very good at, though, is being social. She can fake it well enough, but it usually amounts to her standing or sitting off to the side, only halfway taking everything in. Such is the case tonight. The others are chatting boisterously, and Dani, meanwhile, sits at the far end of the table they've commandeered, idly twirling the glass of the drink she's barely had any of. It's fine. It's not ideal, but it's fine. She just wishes she'd brought some of her homework to try to get done.
A sudden gust of cool air signals the door to the bar opening. She doesn't think much of it until a few minutes later, when she happens to glance over at the bar and sees Vanya standing there, suit-clad and violin in tow. Excusing herself from the table, though she doesn't think anyone hears her, Dani heads over, angling her way in when there's an opening, smile lopsided and a touch awkward.
"Vanya? Hey," she says, gesturing to the violin. "Did you have a performance?"
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Tonight, though, people won't let her say no, and she wouldn't anyway. Ever since Elio and she happened upon a piano in the park and played their impromptu duet about a week ago, she hasn't had a chance to slow down. The video an onlooker recorded is over 100,000 views on MeTube. In less than a week, Elio and Vanya are booked to play for Todd Chad's Brothers and Sisters, a charity with a yearly large, televised event. They're getting calls about TV spots, requests for sponsored Suddengram posts. Elio is used to the renown by now. Vanya's life, until now, was marked by the absolute lack of it. To have people following her around, trying to get her attention. It's almost too much. Worse still: she finds herself liking it.
This time, the night has just begun.
Three people intercept her on the way to the bar. One man in a loud sweatshirt offers her a drink, which she politely declines. Finally, she sees Dani, and is more than happy to excuse herself, polite as ever.
"Dani! Hey," Vanya greets back, the little curve stuck to her lips blooming into a full-blown smile. It's so nice to see a familiar face, especially hers. Dani doesn't expect anything, she's just kind and warm. To Vanya, at least.
Did she have a performance? Of a fucking lifetime. But she isn't going to say that because she wouldn't even know how. "Yeah, Elio and I," she says, nodding back to where he is. As she looks back to do so, the TV behind her (no volume because it's a bar after 9 pm) shows a clip of their performance with some superlative banner that she is too embarrassed and flustered to look at. She hopes Dani doesn't see.
"Do you want something to drink?" Maybe Vanya can direct her away from the TV's, if she hasn't already noticed.
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