244/Gotta Eat Sometime

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Gotta Eat Sometime
Date of Scene: 03 March 2020
Location: Empire Diner
Synopsis: Sometimes speaking up has consequences
Cast of Characters: Michael Hannigan, Samuel Morgan




Michael Hannigan has posed:
If only Mike knew when to quit.

But judging from the tired expression upon the musician's face, he seems to be having trouble doing that. With rehearsals, an extremely frustrated agent and just as concerned roommate, he's being pulled in different directions.

The bright interior of the upscale diner isn't doing much to brighten his spirits, nor does the coffee so strong that it can wake a person by just being within a few feet of it. He's just sitting, finishing off his sandwich, and just ignoring the lit up face of the smushed Nokia resting on the table. That's been muted awhile ago. Geez.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Go out. Go somewhere. Be among people. Think about what we've talked about. See you on Wednesday.

    When Sam left the office of his therapist, he was, as usual, in quite a foul mood. Even the fairly bright day and the brilliant sunshine couldn't bring a smile on his face, much to the consternation of Bear. Clearly his human needed another human, or multiple humans, to be a human to, like humans do. Must find humans... Sniff sniff. Ooh, that's a good human, come on human.

    Despite his nigh paranoid glances to the crowds and the streets at large, Sam is utterly unaware that Bear is guiding him towards a certain diner. Isn't aware of where he's going until he's pushing open the door, and suddenly taking in the sight. Huh. Exactly how smart is that dog?

    The teenager comes following the Shepherd, and sits himself down at a table near the back, opposite a certain musician with an ancient phone. His back towards a window... it's a step in the right direction, even if a small one.

    "You look like shit."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Bleary eyes look to the figure in front of Sam. A few clicks going by before it registers. He gives a tired smile. "Probably because I feel like it." He glances down to the buzzing phone that is slowly making a rotation on the table with the vibration before cutting off, going to voice mail. "Taking a break from work. It's been a long day."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "It's early afternoon. I'm guessing your day is going to get longer." No pity, it seems. Or is there at least a smidgen of some? "Another coffee? You look like you could use it."

    Without waiting for a response, Sam signals for wait staff and orders two coffees and some late breakfast for himself... and a bowl of water for Bear. After that he sits back, eyeing that phone and shaking his head. "Had to stick your head above the parapet..."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Yeah well the view's pretty shitty both ways." Mike murmurs, "The nigh-" He pauses, "Well, I never really liked being told what to do anyways. So... Oh well."

Taking a deep breath, he lifts up his coffee to take a long sip.

The cup lowers, "...Most of the calls are from my agent. Kind of Chicken Littling it right now."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "If your agent is worried about your safety, he's got a point." Sam begins, although he stops the exposition when his food arrives. Eggs benedict, toast, sausage... everything a growing boy needs to grow up big and strong... well... bigger and stronger. "That concert and that album are going to royally piss off every mutant hater around the world, not to mention attract attention from whoever had enough clout to..." And there he stops. Much of what happened to Genosha still wasn't public knowledge.

    "You might wanna look into some decent security, is what I'm saying." Nom.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I'm not Beyonce." Mike hisses quietly, keeping his low for just Sam to hear, "Yeah, a little bit of pull but-" He grumbles, shaking his head "We've already got security when I'm actually performing under the stage name thanks to some other bullshit. Agent's probably just calling to complain that they upped their price or something."

"... And it was a single, not an entire album."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Single now, album later." Sam shrugs, not letting it ruin his appetite. Now that he's no longer thinking about therapy, and his therapist, he finds that he's actually quite hungry. Hungry and angry at the world, but hungry first and foremost.

    "Who's your security? Some of them are worth what they charge." But by far not all of them, he knows that for dead certain.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I think its 'Myrmidon'." Mike answers, giving a bit of a shrug, "They're based out of Metropolis which is where the shoot is located. Haven't interacted too much with them since the shoot was put on hold while they worked out some logistics."

He looks down to Bear, giving a slight smile but not reaching for the working dog. "I'll be fine."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Your agent could have chosen worse. Not a group I've ever had to work with, but they're not on my laugh a day list." Yeah, from Sam that can mean any number of things. He's making quite a dent in that plate, glancing down at Bear when Mike does. But the big lug is still there, lapping at the water and not making a mess.

    After a few moments, he looks back up and gives Mike a look. One that goes on for a few seconds longer than entirely called for, and then he goes back to eating. "Yeah, you'll be fine. But don't take any unnecessary risks."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I make no promises." Mike tilts his head, looking to Sam curiously, "Do you work with a lot of security firms?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    There is a significant look. Bear stops noisily drinking for a moment to see what brought about this change in his human's smell and heart rate, but goes back to drinking when he fails to spot any signs of danger. That doesn't make the look any friendlier. At least, not until Sam smiles to take the edge off, and finishes bringing egg to mouth via fork. Of course, he finishes chewing before he talks. That's just good manners.

    "Used to. In my previous job, it was hard to avoid working with them from time to time."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks over to the decimation of Sam's plate contents before looking to the leftover bite of sandwich on own. Popping it into his mouth, he chews quietly as he waits through the pregnant pause for it to reach full term.

The musician gives a slow nod, swallowing the rest of his bite. "Something for the 'its complicated' column?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Pretty much." Sam nods, shrugging. He knows better than to elaborate, taking the time to simply finish his plate, put down his cutlery and lean back slightly. "Enough experience to know when to tell someone to be careful. And that's the third time I've said that, so I'll stop going on about it. You've probably got enough people on your back as it is."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
The phone starts up again, working its way around a circle. Pale eyes glance down to it before glancing to Sam, no effort made to answer it, "Seems like it."

He moves a hand over to pick up his coffee cup, lifting it up to hold towards Sam, "To getting out of shitty situations?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    The coffee cup is lifted, and clinked against Mike's in a non-alcoholic salute. "Getting out of shitty situations, and living to tell about it." That is about as good as Sam can do.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Or... not tell about it." Mike adds in, giving a pointed look to Sam. "Unless you're telling me otherwise."

Toast done, he takes a sip of his coffee.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Live to tell about it, but choose not to." Sam slightly corrects his toast and then sips the coffee with a smile. A genuine smile. Breakfast, caffeine and conversation. It's just what he needed.