𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞.

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧 is a struggling jazz musician
who's trying to not give up his 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬
while attempting to survive.

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

"You are good. Me. . . Well."

But he stopped himself, shaking his head in a negative manner while forcing himself to smile.

"Anyway, Mr. . . Arthur. Is there anything you want me to do first?"

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

At his response, Dean just nodded. Feeling suddenly self conscious by his response, the man kept quiet, thinking about everything all of sudden while staring at his coffee.

He was right. Who Dean thought he was, complaining about life when Arthur had it so much harder

+

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

“I try. Uhm . . . Thanks.”

Arthur smiled shyly at him and sipped his coffee, looking down for a moment. He suddenly felt his cheeks getting hot and dismissed it, deciding to focus on his coffee.

“You still are.”

Arthur spoke abruptly, raising his head to look at the man. —

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

and was still thriving? It only made the man feel worse, weaker and more pathetic than ever before.

Dean finished his coffee and gave Arthur a look, thinking.

"You are right."

He softly spoke, resting his cup near Arthur's.

+

[WW2 The Eastern Front @ShoahUkraine]

At the first Victory Day parade, Nazi flags were dumped at the foot of the Lenin Mausoleum. Soldiers were given special gloves to handle the German filth, which were later burned along with the flags.

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

taking a sigh before looking to the half empty cup.

"Being able to do what you really love. . . Being really good at it."

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

There was a lot of changes on Arthur's eyes as he heard him speaking about the coffee machine; he seemed to know what he was talking about - and Arthur enjoyed every single moment of it.

Noticing that brought a smile to Dean's lips. It gave the other man a different

+

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

Arthur smiled hesitantly at him and nodded once. This was going surprisingly smooth . . . Not many people knew how to deal with him, in a way that he never meant to be rude, but people thought so.

In response to the man's words, Arthur sipped his coffee, thinking before —

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

a nostalgic - even sad - tone to itself as Arthur asked him about music.

"I am. . . I think. Maybe was."

He replied, drinking more coffee. His voice was quieter than before.

"You think I am? Personally, I wish I was like you, Arthur."

He confessed,

+

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

by a chair close to where Arthur was sitting. He took a sip of his coffee and was unable to suppress another smile.

"Damn fine coffee"

Dean praised, slightly raising his eyebrow upon noticing him staring. Seems like he enjoyed something. . .

"Anything else?"

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

That honesty caught Dean offguard; with a surprised smile, he chuckled, blurting out a "thanks" while observing Arthur go, without even looking at him.

Puzzled, Dean followed him towards the balcony, cup still on hand.

"Sounds all right, indeed."

He mused, sitting

+

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

Turning to place the milk in the fridge again, he fetched his cup, taking a small sip from it. Maybe he should offer sugar, but he never ate it with coffee, so it went over his head.

“Yes, that's why I picked you. You look pretty and dress nicely.” —

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

"If we do this. . . What do you want from me while representing you?"

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

Following that stream of information with a head nod, Dean kept his silence, wanting to learn anything he could about Arthur.

He was. . . A mystery. And, if he wanted to be his face, he needed to know everything about him.

+

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

Arthur wasn't expecting anything less than a reaction to his house. The lady that came to clean it every week was used to it, though. He kinda liked her.

"Ok."

He mumbled, putting some extra water and mix to prepare the coffee, gently tapping the counter before passing the +

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

"No, thanks. I prefer it black."

Dean smiled, moving a hand in the air.

"You did, hm? Hope you like what you saw"

The man playfully replied, taking his cup of coffee and holding it on his right hand, waiting for it to cool down a bit.

+

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

Looking sharp and handsome, Artie.

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

ᅠᅠ
Found an old picture.
ᅠᅠ

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

standing close to the man - but not in a way he would bother him.

"Hm. . . It was about me being your public representant. She wanted me to come and you to give your approval."

He replied, straight to the point, hands resting inside his well cut pants' pockets.

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

Dean's eyes wandered through the house, noticing every detail, every object out of place. He tried his best to not let any expression form on his face; he needed that job, and badly.

"Yes, please."

He replied,
+

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

Arthur didn't mind shaking his hand, not out of rudeness, he just didn't noticed, too focused in opening the door for the man to enter.

"I know. I like your name."

He mumbled, closing the door as both entered. His home wasn't really dirty, but was messy. Very messy, just like +

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

But, as his hand stood there in the air, Dean saw Arthur going inside, seemingly not caring about his gesture.

"Okay"

He shrugged, following Arthur.

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

"Arthur"

He repeated, his smile never quite leaving his face. He moved his hand in the air, offering it for shaking.

"My name is Dean Robertson. Pleased to meet you"

+

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

"Arthur is fine. Don't like my last name."

He answered quietly, looking up to check the man. He looked good, better than in the pictures. Looked nice enough, normal enough... The thought made Arthur sigh.

"You're the guy."

The writer nodded once, getting to his feet. +

[𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. @ofbluemoonisms]

Taking off his glasses as soon as he left the car, Dean's eyes soon met the man's on the porch.

He gave him a tiny smile and walked towards Arthur.

"Mr. Warren, right?"

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

staring at @ofbluemoonisms from his porch.

[ᅠ𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑, ⁽ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ ⁾ᅠ @ofmanofgod]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀
arthur warren. writer of fiction. spent childhood in a hospital, lived in the streets for a few years until his first book "the black dog" became a success. sometimes he gets too lost in his own mind and stories.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀