Fast Eddie's, Tuesday Evening

[myownface]

Soooooo, apparently today was Sparkle's 21st birthday? Which was weird.

It was weird. And Sparkle hadn't really planned anything for it. He always found it easier to make a big deal out of other people's big days than his own. And anyway, what did 21 mean? He could use real identification to drink now? Where was the fun in that?

But he wanted to do something, so he sent off a handwavey text to anyone on his contact list just saying, Fast Eddie's tonight, the multiverse has had to deal with 21 years of me, suckers, and then hopped through a portal to Fandom Island to crash the arcade.

... No, he didn't have anything in mind beyond that. No real party or anything. Just, hey, come to the arcade. Waste some quarters. Maybe somebody would show up. It'd be great. And he was kind of grinning like an idiot as he showed up, since he'd made a stop at the apartment first.

Aww, Sia. Unsolicited presents were kind of great.

[OOC: I literally forgot about this until just before bedtime last night. OCD-free, daytime SP applies, hello, it's Sparkle's birthday, if you think you got an invite, or even if you didn't, feel free to crash in!]

Comments

[notacokeperson]

"That's probably the best I'm going to get, right?"

Right?

Yeah, she wasn't going to turn down a hug.

[myownface]

"Definitely the best you're getting," Sparkle agreed, and then leaned in for that hug, still clinging to the pamphlet in one hand.

At least his crying was quiet. He'd mastered the art of silently having emotion overflow a long, long time ago.

[notacokeperson]

She hugged him tightly, despite her expression being firmly set on trying not to care too much.

"Later," she said, "if you have any ideas, I'd like to hear them."

But not now. Now, she was going to let him cry, and hold him tight, and feel a stupid, fluttering sense of relief.

He didn't hate it.