Ohio, 1920

[themidnightson]

There are many differences to the lifestyle in Ohio.

Chiefly among them is the inflated necessity of keeping face.



They have to appear in the right circles and the right places casually and consistently.

They have to circulate and interact, both the new private care doctor and his first year med school brother.



Tonight that is the Sesame Club, where Jazz music, frivolity, dancing and food flow freely.

Comments

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle lit a Chesterfield through a short ebony-black holder as the pair sat at a back table.

"Are you surprised?"

[themidnightson]

Edward settled gracefully into his chair, giving it far more of settling in show than would ever be necessary for either of them.

"The music is better than I had expected."

[ofthefamily]

"I actually meant, are you surprised that I would want to come here?"

The bartender's coming; the music swells louder.

[themidnightson]

"Not especially." Edward raised a brow. "Would you like me to be?"

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle shrugs. Sometimes. I might start to bore you.

The bartender arrives in front of them; Carlisle orders a brandy old-fashioned. The brown color is attractive and makes the tinted light refract in the glass at a deeper shade. Since he's not going to drink it, Carlisle has to pick a drink somehow.

[themidnightson]

Edward was chuckling when the man stepped up.

And ordered likewise, without much attention to it yet.


"You aren't that lucky."

[ofthefamily]

A snort in reply, tapping his cigarette out into an ashtray and pivoting outward to watch the ever-growing crowd of people. They'd be seen.

Edward was already getting stares. Carlisle wonders idly if he's noticed.

Damn. He's noticed by now just because Carlisle noticed. Difficult.

How was class?

[themidnightson]

His glance shifted toward one or two of them, but only after Carlisle had thought it. Their thoughts hadn't mattered. Their names had been floating helter skelter in the multitudes thoughts since they walked in together.

Edward raised his glass, pretending to take a sip as he spoke against the rim of the glass.

"Educational," he said. "It's getting easier to sit in the hall."

Easier being not the same as easy, but an improvement on the first day.

[ofthefamily]

"Mmm. Good."

Smoking is an interesting habit for a vampire. The ingredients don't have a calming effect. Theoretically, Carlisle could retain the smoke in his lungs for an hour and a half if he so felt inclined.

It's something to do.

The band stops playing and the leader is cracking wise to the crowd; Carlisle smiles appropriately.

Though I do get bored of this, usually. I feel like I should tell you to go find someone to dance with.

[themidnightson]

"Who would you have me dance with first?"

His glance stayed on the milling people, slowly sizing up the people still glancing toward him, trying to pull on the ideal patience of actually standing and meandering over to fulfill that charade if Carlisle so truly wanted him to.

[ofthefamily]

Not thought, but whispered below the band's new song playing beyond the hearing capacity of their neighbors: "Anybody you could stand, naturally. But I won't make you."

There's a shot of amusement in Carlisle's tone but it doesn't last long enough to count.

[themidnightson]

"You never do," Edward said, quiet and easy and still.

The chair moves, scrapes the floor, and Edward raises form it gracefully. He doesn't so much mind the charade. He'd do even more for Carlisle if he'd only ask it of him. Giving him the appearance his life needs only takes a number of hours.

His glance skirts over five women who's thoughts suddenly spike at his turn toward the dancing crowd, but it settles on a middle aged woman in a peach gown sitting quietly, contemplating a napkin.

It's easy to get her to say yes.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle lights up another cigarette in his holder, happy at Edward's choice -- probably made that woman's week -- and trying his best not to stare.

"You're Dr. Cullen?" a smooth speaking-soprano asked behind him. Carlisle pivots again.

"Carlisle. Please."

[themidnightson]

The first dance is easy. He doesn't even mind so much the fantasy that spirals out of control in her mind while they dance. She knows it isn't real and lets herself enjoy it regardless. She has a husband to return to, whenever he reappears from wherever he's disappeared to since leading her in.

The knowledge of that earns her a second.

He doesn't care about their trivial strife, but he still has to suppress the urge to punch her husband when he intervenes and takes her back in the middle of it.

The third is a young woman in a long green gown who approaches him. He accepts only because she actually has thoughts about seeing if he can truly dance and not just lead a woman in small circles on the floor. He's smugly proud to prove his capability. Carlisle is the best teacher.

He manages a fourth trying harder not to think of the swell of bodies, focusing his attention on the music. The rising and falling scales, the impromptu solos of the instruments, and ducks his gaze away from everyone when it's over. Walking back toward their table with a slight speedier gate than it's original departure.

[ofthefamily]

Edward's effort is appreciated. Carlisle's effort is somewhat more taxing. Well -- in a different way. As soon as Edward stood to dance, Carlisle did not have a moment's peace.

Are you here all alone? some of the braver ones ask. Because the second jacket draped across the adjacent chair is not enough proof to the contrary. Or they ask about Edward, to which Carlisle very politely refrains from telling them to bugger off. It's a phrase Carlisle misses from the past two years in European English.

"You survived." He's smiling.

[themidnightson]

"Dancing can't kill me," Edward returns the smile, crookedly near smirking.

[ofthefamily]

"I think I'm going to go outside for a bit," Carlisle announces and stands, reaching fluidly for his discarded jacket. It's warm out. He shouldn't need more for the appearance of comfort.

[themidnightson]

"Should I-" the question hangs, even though he's laid a hand on his chair back. He has no purpose to stay but he doesn't insert himself in front of the crowd that way he would assumptive were they elsewhere and alone.

[ofthefamily]

"You can." I'm more restless than I thought this evening; my apologies.

[themidnightson]

Edward slipped into his chair, the reluctance at staying not straying into his expression. He picked up his drink with unconventional grace and swirled it absently before pretending to take a drink.

The full club was devoid in Carlisle's absence.




Yet still he found his gaze lingering on the people. Stray thoughts and movements stealing his attention from the Jazz music and following Carlisle's thoughts. The simplicity of their little, hopelessly fragile lives on display before him.

[ofthefamily]

uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque --

"Care to let a friend bum a smoke, upstandin' gentleman like yourself?"

Carlisle hands over the pack to the stranger. It buys him a vacancy on a public bench.

The only frustration drifting into his conscious thought is that there is no reason to be frustrated, here.
We don't have to be lovers // we don't have to be friends for no-one
He had his normal life back. Plus Edward, which was turning out far better than he could have dreamed.
Fingers felt like a fire // your skin shifting // your words were so clear
He should've kept one of those Chesterfields. They were at least distracting.

[themidnightson]

They are insignificant in comparison, but their lives are among the most important things in existence to Carlisle. Which means they should be important to him. Them and all their million processes which lead to lives being lived out.

Normal.

Never on display.

Never knowing too much.

Safe in their little cocoons.


Everything is liminal to them. The slow fascinations and revelations. The gentle glide of change and interaction. They could be like a dance, like the music floating around them. He wants to pretend that he could almost see them that way, for Carlisle.

[ofthefamily]

One flash'll get you everything you want








If you're bored yet...

[themidnightson]

Edward almost flashes from the place at the invitation, but he's only standing upright next to his chair when he stops himself. Pulls on his jacket slowly, gracefully, and walks out, stopping only three times to be told to give people's regards to his brother.

His hands go in his pockets and he walks down the street, knowing the precise place Carlisle is and stopping only once he reaches him.

It's been a long hour all told.

Maybe it was better for Carlisle.

[ofthefamily]

It was alright. Necessary.

"What do we do now?"

All dressed up and nowhere to go --