tennis slash - The International Diner (12)
Title: The International Diner (12)
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairings: Andy Roddick/Marat Safin/Roger Federer, Lleyton Hewitt/Andy Murray
Other Players: Mardy Fish, Sam Querrey, John Isner, Mario Ancic, Novak Djokovic, Gilles Simon, Tommy Haas
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: AU. ATP in a diner.
Chapter 12 - How to be a Drunken Fool… or Just a Drunk… or Just a Fool
Wagers on who will get the Drunkest
Sam: Lleyton, Andy M, Andy R, Roger
Mario: Tommy, Nicolas, Andy R, Marin, Sod
Andy R: John, Sam, Novak
Lleyton: Marat
John knows that the person he wagered on in the drinking pool, Roddick, isn’t back yet so, theoretically, he shouldn’t be trying to give Sam a head start. However, John just can’t resist when Sam starts the trash talking. It would seem to be obvious not to pose a drinking challenge to a guy who spent four years in a fraternity and went to tailgate parties for every football game.
So the case of beer John brought has already been started, in the guise of learning Texas Hold ‘Em. John will accept losing the money from the bet if it means Sam doing something totally humiliating and wishing it to be forgotten.
“I think I’m getting this game,” Mario says as he lays down a king and a queen to complete the full house.
Sam rolls his eyes and slumps in the chair, only having two pair, then grabs the can and takes a chug. John does the same but holds the can up long enough to hide his smile from Sam.
In another area of the diner, Gilles has brought his guitar and Novak is singing some made-up song to the tune. Andy Murray is writing down these makeshift lyrics while paying attention to the entrance. He volunteers to do watch for letting employees in, the better to stay distracted from who isn’t in the building.
It is about fifteen minutes into this routine when there is finally a knock to interrupt. Andy drops the notepad to get the door. Good thing he rushed because it turns out to be Mardy, who is attempting to carry a bag while with the crutches.
“Good evening, Other Andy.” Andy quickly grabs the bag, then steps aside to let him in. Mardy enters, scrunching his nose at the “music” and calls out, “Hey Novak. Stick with your studies, man.” Glancing at the guitar player, Mardy kids, “Is this your new boyfriend? I think Novak will make a move on this one as well.”
Andy rolls his eyes and leads Mardy over to that table, then proudly says, “Actually, he’s your sub. Mardy, this is Gilles. He is very conscientious and Mr. Federer will realize that you’re no longer needed, allowing you to pursue your acting full-time.” Andy puts on a fake smile at that news.
“Nice to hear you’re still a jerk. Anyway, the bag is for the giants at the other table.” Andy finds Mardy’s attempts at sounding cool annoying but helps him along.
Sam sees them first and stands up. “Welcome back. Balance has been restored,” then pulls a chair over for Mardy. “How’d you like the delivery?”
Mardy chuckles at that. “It’s deadly when you and Roddick join forces.”
Sam replies, “To be fair, your guy seemed scared of the attention. So, he drove you here?”
“Yeah. It was a nice afternoon.” Mardy grins, then sits down and sets the crutches aside. “Already drinking away?”
“You be our judge,” Sam says. “I think John is cheating.”
John rolls his eyes. “We’re both going to lose the pool and it’s his own damn fault.”
“Of course,” Mardy says doubtfully.
* * * * *
Andy Roddick and Marat have returned. They set the bags down, then Roddick heads to the poker game, slapping Mardy on the back as a greeting before getting a chair.
“Who’s winning?” Roddick whispers to John.
John mutters behind his hand, “The game? Mario. The drinking pool? So far, you and whoever else picked Sam has the early lead. He’s an idiot.”
Sam calls out, “Do you feel as lucky with cards as you do with wagers, Mr. Roddick?”
Andy glares at Mardy, who is trying not to laugh. If Mardy returns to the day shift and Gilles is working then as well, Andy will be broke. Guaranteed. “Line ‘em up, Surfer boy, and we’ll see who is the lucky one.”
* * * * *
An hour has passed and people are enjoying the drinks, whether from the case of beer or whatever Marat has been demonstrating to Novak. Marat has been keeping one eye on the door, knowing the party hasn’t truly started unless Roger or Lleyton, or both, arrive.
It soon becomes clear he’s not the only one getting edgy about them being missing. The card game is going in several directions. Marat isn’t sure but he thinks the game is now Omaha with sevens wild mixed with calling out Applejack when there are pairs on the table.
Then there’s the way the music has turned. It is faint at first, little more than chords but when a tune can be recognized, then that there are clear words being sung over and over, it’s doomsday. At least now Marat has figured out why he believed that Novak and Murray shared a brain for so long.
The frat is together, sharing one brain again
Just get them liquored up and all is zen
Sam says over his shoulder, “Get a clue, or at least a tune, Novak.”
Novak has been trying to get the daiquiri mixture right but he stops the blender upon hearing his name and listens. “What is that?” Novak turns around, looking for Gilles’ guitar. Great, Murray picks now to make a joke. Too bad he’s really sucking the humor out of Novak’s parody idea.
When he notices Sam staring their way, Murray says innocently, “You don’t like the commentary?” then continues singing:
Bets ‘round the table, the blonds always losing
The cooks’ tastes are terrible but that’s what they’re choosing
Sam says to the rest of the table, “Excuse me,” then heads over to Marat and Novak to ask in a low whisper, “Is Other Andy drunk?”
Marat shakes his head. “Not a drop. That glass of vodka cranberry has been sitting in front of him for the past hour. Gilles, on the other hand, may be near drunk and he’s doing the encouraging.”
Sam orders them, “Then get the fuck started on the Brit so at least he has a good reason for the ridiculous singing,” and returns to the game.
Novak glances at the booth. Although Andy’s back is to them, Novak can tell there’s something not right about the music, beyond the off-base humor. “What is going on with him?”
Marat studies carefully, then thinks back to what he learned in the parking lot earlier. “My guess? A mixture of second-hand booze and severe anxiety. I’m going to have a chat with him. Pay attention to the consistency,” tapping the blender before heading to the booth.
The Russian messes with everyone if given a chance
Time to celebrate with the florist, just dance
Marat stands in front of the booth, chuckling while shaking his head. “Oh, I should not be advising you properly after that couplet.”
Gilles calls out, “I will advise you that the banana drink is quite delectable. Magnifique, monsieur.”
Marat sits down next to Gilles and pats him on the head. “I don’t know you that well but I do appreciate you contributing to his delinquency, in French no less. Now, Andy, let’s chat. While on one hand the poker guys think you’re an asshole right now, I do have to respect you attempting to loosen up, even if it’s because you’re nervous about later.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think and I’m not nervous regarding anything later.”
“Oh cram it. The thing is, you would probably have success if you weren’t convinced you’re just a dork. I mean, your knowledge of wine, thanks to Santoro, would be enough to impress any first date.”
Gilles leans against the wall, inspecting Andy. “Not a dork,” he slurs.
Andy mock-salutes him. “Thank you for that assessment.” Gilles grins then resumes his guitar playing. Andy mumbles to Marat, “I don’t need advice.”
“Let me tell you something. I was not always the smooth operator you see now. When I was in school, I was the geek. Good in math, chess, stereotypical Russian. I tried to mold into what was cool. I played baseball and American football, even though I do love the soccer. Constantly struck out on dates. If you don’t believe me, ask my sister for blackmail material. It wasn’t until I finished high school and met this Swedish guy named Pim Pim that I began to realize my strengths. We’d act as each other’s wingman.”
Andy replies, “Only you could say that with a straight face.” He shakes his head. “Pim Pim?”
Marat narrows his stare, then counters in a loud booming voice with his arms raised, “The Power Of The Cheesecake!”
Roddick, Sam and Mardy turn around, laughing at Marat’s pose. They hold up their glasses and call out in unison, “Master of the universe,” all three downing their drinks before resuming the game.
“Fuck off,” Andy mutters, but he buries his face behind his arm, clearly embarrassed. “Just fucking announce that to everyone, please.”
Marat had forgotten that Andy was the reason he bet on Lleyton in the pool in the first place. He really didn’t realize that Andy thinks he said that because of the baker, whereas Marat was just thinking of something funny to shout out in retaliation. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the doors open, Roger and Lleyton stumbling in, deep in the middle of a story.
"Drover?" Roger exclaims. "That might be the worst yet!"
Lleyton says sarcastically, "Yeah, well, there was so much thought put into the name of this place. International Diner, geez, any more vague? At least this name is memorable and conveys a certain image..."
"Yeah, let's round up the livestock and get everyone together for a piece of pie!"
Marat approaches them. "Hello. Hi, there. Where the hell have you guys been? Party. Your," gesturing to Roger, "idea. Remember?"
Tommy has just entered, clearly the one who was doing the driving. He shakes his head. "I have learned my lesson. Never leave these two alone with a bottle of champagne. Lightweights."
Andy Roddick calls out, "It's about time! What is the news?"
Lleyton tilts his head then turns to Roger. "You said nobody else knew..."
"He's a damn sleuth," Roger mutters. Louder, he says, "Everyone. We have an announcement to make..."
Lleyton starts, "The Great Roger... oh, wait, that's a different speech," then starts giggling.
Marat turns to Tommy and asks, "Only champagne? I so owe you money for getting him started early. I had my doubts but I think I'll win everyone's cash."
"Shut up, Marat," Lleyton snaps, then clears his throat to say, "The announcement is... Blake's Candies is closing and will soon be replaced with Drover Baked Goods."
Roger says, "You're seriously using Drover? That is just wrong. Even The Kiwi Bakery is better."
"One, that's really cheesy," Lleyton says. "Two, I am close to certain not a single product will have kiwi in it, so it's just ripe for ridicule."
"Hold it!" Mardy calls out. He makes the effort to get off the chair and grab his crutches to approach them before asking straight up, "Lley, are you opening a bakery a block away from the diner? With Roger's help?" Both of them nod. "That is so awesome."
Marat heads over to Novak with the blender and gets two glasses. "This requires a toast, though there's only enough in here for two, so tough luck, Rog." John passes out cans of beer for the others while Marat is speaking. "It will be a shame to see you gone, since that will be the end of any sanity in that kitchen."
Sam and Mario exclaim, "Hey!"
"But it's nice to know we'll be able to bug you in such a convenient location!" Marat wraps Lleyton in a hug, then whispers, "Also, thank you for getting Roger drunk. I didn't think anyone other than myself after a fight with him was capable of that."
While others congratulate and Sam drags Lleyton to the poker table, muttering, "I know you cheated before so we will settle this once and for all," Gilles returns to playing his guitar, more of a blues rift. Andy Murray is startled at first by the sound, then doesn't miss a beat in continuing the "song".
The Aussie is getting out of here, not a moment too soon
Though he's prob'ly drunk enough to go howling at the moon
Lleyton turns around to see who sang that while Sam yells over his shoulder, "I'm going to knock you out with his guitar if you keep it up. The world will be a better place."
"You have your fun, I have mine," Murray retorts, right before he sees Lleyton face him with a puzzled look. Andy gives Lleyton a defiant stare before jotting down the lyrics.
"What was that about?" Lleyton asks.
Sam says proudly, "I will mess up his mind so badly he will fucking wish he'd gotten drunk instead."
* * * * *
About a half hour later, Andy Roddick approaches the spot at the counter where Roger and Tommy are sitting. Roger seems to have returned to business mode, back to design decisions.
"Oh you have got to be kidding," Andy exclaims loudly, then pushes the papers toward Tommy. "Do you really think it's even worth discussing this when you're not exactly sober?"
"That's kind of the point," Tommy says. "Attack now just to see what comes from that bottle of champagne." He shrugs. "It worked okay in college."
"I'll take your word for it." Andy sits in the stool next to Roger's. "I have been trying to hold off the vultures who want me in their drinking game. Who gave them the idea that I should be the target this year?"
Roger chuckles, then says, "That would be Sam. Futile effort, but it does help you and I divide money among fewer people. Assuming Sam wins, of course."
"Even including your little display with Lleyton, I would still say that Sam will be the drunkest. He actually thinks it is a good idea to see if he can push Other Andy into getting drunk tonight. Not a bet, just a stupid wager in his own head."
Roger raises an eyebrow. "That is a terrible idea." But since Roger is a bit tipsy, he surprises Andy with a kiss. "I do commend you for not stooping down to his level."
Tommy says, "If I'd known it would be like this, I would have backed someone other than Mario." Turning to the poker table. "That bet seems to be lost. Totally sober. I'll play deejay with Nicolas for awhile." He stands up, then walks over to Andy and says, "I don't hook up with people in closets but it's empty if you guys want..." Andy shoves him away before finishing that sentence.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Sam is ready to go into action. He says loudly, "I have work to do," then leaves the poker table for the booth.
Gilles is leaning against the wall, his legs propped on the booth as he's reciting stuff from his cooking class in a strange accent. Andy Murray asks, "Is that your version of an Australian accent?"
"At least I didn't resort to 'a shrimp on the barbie', unlike some idiots," pointing to Novak, who had been at the table a few minutes earlier, annoyed about failing at the martini. "How would you do an Australian?"
Andy doesn't get a chance to think about that because Sam calls out, “Hey there, Other Andy! The rock star. We need your help.”
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Even though he's really not busy, hanging around Gilles being a drunken idiot is better than hanging around Sam the idiot who is drunk. At least Gilles is making the evening fun whereas Sam wants revenge.
Sam shrugs, then yanks Andy from his seat and drags him to the table before he has a chance to protest. When they stop at the table and Andy has caught up, he struggles to get out of Sam's grip. But the cook is too strong, tightly wrapping his arms around him. Sam speaks very close to Andy's ear when he announces, “You can be our judge. Mardy wants out. This is so much better than holding onto the same glass all night.”
“Let go of me.” Murray continues to try to worm his way out.
Andy Roddick suddenly appears with a camera in his hand, taking a quick photo before reminding, “You forget the pictures can be used as proof… or blackmail. Don’t you have him in the pool? We," pointing to himself and Roger, who has popped up, snuggling against Andy's side, “as well as you, can win with this shot."
John says, “Don’t be so sure about that one yet, Roddick. We’re still wearing you down.” But he doesn't really mean it at this point, conceding that Roddick isn't intending to give in to Sam's challenge.
Murray mutters, “Damn it.” He’s not so sure this is worth the money but what the hell. He stands still, letting Sam pull him close as Roddick takes another photo before Roger leads him away.
Lleyton nods toward Roddick's retreating form, then calls out, “Sam, let him go.”
Andy stares Lleyton down, insisting, “I can get rid of him if I wanted to do so. As Roddick said…”
Lleyton narrows his eyes, taking long strides to where Sam and Andy are positioned. “Joke’s over. Sam…”
Sam is about to release his grip when he gets a sharp jab in the ribs and quickly backs away. “Damn it, Andy.”
Andy shrugs, feigning innocence. “Told ya I didn’t need your help.”
Sam staggers over to the table, holding his side as he sits. “Wow, that was impressive. Is your mom teaching self-defense courses?”
Before Andy has a chance to reply, Lleyton shoves him into the kitchen, saying, “Don’t. He’s actually liking you right now, which means he’s just being a drunk jackass.”
“It doesn't matter. Stop defending me. I am perfectly capable of dealing with the drunk jackass, as you may have seen."
"What is going on with you?" Lleyton realizes he sounds too loud but he's annoyed and wants to get this conversation over with.
"Should we really have this talk while you're drinking? I've been told logic goes out the window after a few sips of wine."
It takes a few seconds before it clicks what has been going on all this time. Lleyton's voice is getting louder, shock replaced with anger, "Are you fucking serious? Andy..."
"So there's nothing to discuss."
"You wanted to forget what happened that night, not me."
Andy stares Lleyton down, refusing to show any reaction to Lleyton's words. "Look, you politely turned me down. Which, fine, I understand. I don't need to be told twice."
"I told you if the situation was different that night I would have considered. You turned it into something else, ignoring everything. You even pushed me toward Tommy!"
"You two fit together. You deserve someone like him: handsome, charming, smart. Not..." Andy stops himself just before giving away too much. "No, not going there. You don't want to hear that. I'm sorry. This is not the time." He shakes his head and pushes away from Lleyton, needing to get out of here.
Lleyton watches, initially shocked but more determined than ever to finish this. He jolts into action, rushing to catch up to Andy, who has only gotten past the counter. Lleyton misjudges his foot speed and they end up colliding into a stool, Andy pinned in place.
Lleyton allows Andy to stand up and face him before he barks out, "What were you going to say?!"
"No." Andy tries to move away but Lleyton pushes him back, refusing to let him escape again.
"Stop it! You've made excuses to keep everyone from finding out the truth. You assume I'm not interested."
"You already told me once!"
"Take a chance. Make a move. Come on!"
"I already made a move, Lleyton! I'm not doing that again. I'm not making a fool of myself in front of everyone because they already think I'm a fool. I've done that enough."
There is no longer any sound to drown out this conversation. Lleyton was already vaguely aware but, more importantly, Andy has just figured that out and appears even more desperate to flee before everyone sees him break.
Lleyton places a palm on the back of Andy's neck and lowers his head so his view is blocked from the others. He whispers in Andy's ear, "Nobody thinks you're a fool. They think you're a bit of a prick perhaps but not a fool. Just loyal. Nobody is supposed to know you care about these people." Lleyton's fingers are making circles, hoping to calm Andy down.
Andy's voice catches in his throat when he asks, "What do you think?"
"You don't fool me. You've been burned in the past and afraid that'll happen again. So you do a pre-emptive strike. You may think it's the alcohol speaking but I know I desperately wish I'd kissed you back that night so that there wouldn't be these doubts. I won't tonight, even if I want to, because I want you to be sure I mean everything I'm saying. I don't play games but I get the feeling you think this is a game." Lleyton lets go and backs away, declaring for everyone else to hear, "This is not a game, you're not a fool and I really fucking wish you saw what everyone else sees. A damn good person who doesn't deserve to get fucked over."
Andy looks up, not sure exactly how to deal with everything Lleyton just said. He wishes he was drunk right now so he can react off of instinct. Instead, he sounds so small when he asks, "Can I please leave now?"
Lleyton nods, then watches Andy walk out of the diner, wishing his brain had stopped his mouth from saying all of that a little bit sooner. Reluctantly, he trudges over to the poker table, knowing all eyes are on him, and sits back down. "How can I be such an idiot?"
Sam says flippantly, "If I'm going to lose the pool, better to Marat than Roddick. To think, it didn't even require any work."
John hits him upside the head. Sam stares at him in shock, then John turns his back to him and assures Lleyton, "It's really not that bad."
Mardy is the one sitting next to Lleyton and, even though he's not quite sure what has happened in the last few days to lead to this moment, suspects he knows what's going on based on his day with Juan Martin. He brings Lleyton's head to rest on his shoulder and says softly, "If it makes you feel better, I think he's just shocked to discover you like him back."
Andy Roddick and Roger are in their booth in the corner, not really paying attention to what had just happened, when Marat swoops in on the other side. Roger is nuzzling Andy’s neck when he asks, “Should I be concerned about whatever the commotion was about?”
Marat says, “I think you’re past that point tonight. I’ll explain tomorrow morning. Right now, we need to get you home.”
Roger tries to be suave when he asks, “Can you make me pay for my error in judgment tonight?” He sits up, having changed paths. “I should know better with that particular bottle Tommy bought… my father told me there were certain brands…”
“We’re not having a wine discussion now,” Marat counters. “Andy, when you’re able to detangle him from you, let me know so I’ll drive. You need to stay here and deal with the frat.”
Chapter 13 - Drunken Aftereffects
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairings: Andy Roddick/Marat Safin/Roger Federer, Lleyton Hewitt/Andy Murray
Other Players: Mardy Fish, Sam Querrey, John Isner, Mario Ancic, Novak Djokovic, Gilles Simon, Tommy Haas
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: AU. ATP in a diner.
Chapter 12 - How to be a Drunken Fool… or Just a Drunk… or Just a Fool
Wagers on who will get the Drunkest
Sam: Lleyton, Andy M, Andy R, Roger
Mario: Tommy, Nicolas, Andy R, Marin, Sod
Andy R: John, Sam, Novak
Lleyton: Marat
John knows that the person he wagered on in the drinking pool, Roddick, isn’t back yet so, theoretically, he shouldn’t be trying to give Sam a head start. However, John just can’t resist when Sam starts the trash talking. It would seem to be obvious not to pose a drinking challenge to a guy who spent four years in a fraternity and went to tailgate parties for every football game.
So the case of beer John brought has already been started, in the guise of learning Texas Hold ‘Em. John will accept losing the money from the bet if it means Sam doing something totally humiliating and wishing it to be forgotten.
“I think I’m getting this game,” Mario says as he lays down a king and a queen to complete the full house.
Sam rolls his eyes and slumps in the chair, only having two pair, then grabs the can and takes a chug. John does the same but holds the can up long enough to hide his smile from Sam.
In another area of the diner, Gilles has brought his guitar and Novak is singing some made-up song to the tune. Andy Murray is writing down these makeshift lyrics while paying attention to the entrance. He volunteers to do watch for letting employees in, the better to stay distracted from who isn’t in the building.
It is about fifteen minutes into this routine when there is finally a knock to interrupt. Andy drops the notepad to get the door. Good thing he rushed because it turns out to be Mardy, who is attempting to carry a bag while with the crutches.
“Good evening, Other Andy.” Andy quickly grabs the bag, then steps aside to let him in. Mardy enters, scrunching his nose at the “music” and calls out, “Hey Novak. Stick with your studies, man.” Glancing at the guitar player, Mardy kids, “Is this your new boyfriend? I think Novak will make a move on this one as well.”
Andy rolls his eyes and leads Mardy over to that table, then proudly says, “Actually, he’s your sub. Mardy, this is Gilles. He is very conscientious and Mr. Federer will realize that you’re no longer needed, allowing you to pursue your acting full-time.” Andy puts on a fake smile at that news.
“Nice to hear you’re still a jerk. Anyway, the bag is for the giants at the other table.” Andy finds Mardy’s attempts at sounding cool annoying but helps him along.
Sam sees them first and stands up. “Welcome back. Balance has been restored,” then pulls a chair over for Mardy. “How’d you like the delivery?”
Mardy chuckles at that. “It’s deadly when you and Roddick join forces.”
Sam replies, “To be fair, your guy seemed scared of the attention. So, he drove you here?”
“Yeah. It was a nice afternoon.” Mardy grins, then sits down and sets the crutches aside. “Already drinking away?”
“You be our judge,” Sam says. “I think John is cheating.”
John rolls his eyes. “We’re both going to lose the pool and it’s his own damn fault.”
“Of course,” Mardy says doubtfully.
* * * * *
Andy Roddick and Marat have returned. They set the bags down, then Roddick heads to the poker game, slapping Mardy on the back as a greeting before getting a chair.
“Who’s winning?” Roddick whispers to John.
John mutters behind his hand, “The game? Mario. The drinking pool? So far, you and whoever else picked Sam has the early lead. He’s an idiot.”
Sam calls out, “Do you feel as lucky with cards as you do with wagers, Mr. Roddick?”
Andy glares at Mardy, who is trying not to laugh. If Mardy returns to the day shift and Gilles is working then as well, Andy will be broke. Guaranteed. “Line ‘em up, Surfer boy, and we’ll see who is the lucky one.”
* * * * *
An hour has passed and people are enjoying the drinks, whether from the case of beer or whatever Marat has been demonstrating to Novak. Marat has been keeping one eye on the door, knowing the party hasn’t truly started unless Roger or Lleyton, or both, arrive.
It soon becomes clear he’s not the only one getting edgy about them being missing. The card game is going in several directions. Marat isn’t sure but he thinks the game is now Omaha with sevens wild mixed with calling out Applejack when there are pairs on the table.
Then there’s the way the music has turned. It is faint at first, little more than chords but when a tune can be recognized, then that there are clear words being sung over and over, it’s doomsday. At least now Marat has figured out why he believed that Novak and Murray shared a brain for so long.
The frat is together, sharing one brain again
Just get them liquored up and all is zen
Sam says over his shoulder, “Get a clue, or at least a tune, Novak.”
Novak has been trying to get the daiquiri mixture right but he stops the blender upon hearing his name and listens. “What is that?” Novak turns around, looking for Gilles’ guitar. Great, Murray picks now to make a joke. Too bad he’s really sucking the humor out of Novak’s parody idea.
When he notices Sam staring their way, Murray says innocently, “You don’t like the commentary?” then continues singing:
Bets ‘round the table, the blonds always losing
The cooks’ tastes are terrible but that’s what they’re choosing
Sam says to the rest of the table, “Excuse me,” then heads over to Marat and Novak to ask in a low whisper, “Is Other Andy drunk?”
Marat shakes his head. “Not a drop. That glass of vodka cranberry has been sitting in front of him for the past hour. Gilles, on the other hand, may be near drunk and he’s doing the encouraging.”
Sam orders them, “Then get the fuck started on the Brit so at least he has a good reason for the ridiculous singing,” and returns to the game.
Novak glances at the booth. Although Andy’s back is to them, Novak can tell there’s something not right about the music, beyond the off-base humor. “What is going on with him?”
Marat studies carefully, then thinks back to what he learned in the parking lot earlier. “My guess? A mixture of second-hand booze and severe anxiety. I’m going to have a chat with him. Pay attention to the consistency,” tapping the blender before heading to the booth.
The Russian messes with everyone if given a chance
Time to celebrate with the florist, just dance
Marat stands in front of the booth, chuckling while shaking his head. “Oh, I should not be advising you properly after that couplet.”
Gilles calls out, “I will advise you that the banana drink is quite delectable. Magnifique, monsieur.”
Marat sits down next to Gilles and pats him on the head. “I don’t know you that well but I do appreciate you contributing to his delinquency, in French no less. Now, Andy, let’s chat. While on one hand the poker guys think you’re an asshole right now, I do have to respect you attempting to loosen up, even if it’s because you’re nervous about later.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think and I’m not nervous regarding anything later.”
“Oh cram it. The thing is, you would probably have success if you weren’t convinced you’re just a dork. I mean, your knowledge of wine, thanks to Santoro, would be enough to impress any first date.”
Gilles leans against the wall, inspecting Andy. “Not a dork,” he slurs.
Andy mock-salutes him. “Thank you for that assessment.” Gilles grins then resumes his guitar playing. Andy mumbles to Marat, “I don’t need advice.”
“Let me tell you something. I was not always the smooth operator you see now. When I was in school, I was the geek. Good in math, chess, stereotypical Russian. I tried to mold into what was cool. I played baseball and American football, even though I do love the soccer. Constantly struck out on dates. If you don’t believe me, ask my sister for blackmail material. It wasn’t until I finished high school and met this Swedish guy named Pim Pim that I began to realize my strengths. We’d act as each other’s wingman.”
Andy replies, “Only you could say that with a straight face.” He shakes his head. “Pim Pim?”
Marat narrows his stare, then counters in a loud booming voice with his arms raised, “The Power Of The Cheesecake!”
Roddick, Sam and Mardy turn around, laughing at Marat’s pose. They hold up their glasses and call out in unison, “Master of the universe,” all three downing their drinks before resuming the game.
“Fuck off,” Andy mutters, but he buries his face behind his arm, clearly embarrassed. “Just fucking announce that to everyone, please.”
Marat had forgotten that Andy was the reason he bet on Lleyton in the pool in the first place. He really didn’t realize that Andy thinks he said that because of the baker, whereas Marat was just thinking of something funny to shout out in retaliation. He doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the doors open, Roger and Lleyton stumbling in, deep in the middle of a story.
"Drover?" Roger exclaims. "That might be the worst yet!"
Lleyton says sarcastically, "Yeah, well, there was so much thought put into the name of this place. International Diner, geez, any more vague? At least this name is memorable and conveys a certain image..."
"Yeah, let's round up the livestock and get everyone together for a piece of pie!"
Marat approaches them. "Hello. Hi, there. Where the hell have you guys been? Party. Your," gesturing to Roger, "idea. Remember?"
Tommy has just entered, clearly the one who was doing the driving. He shakes his head. "I have learned my lesson. Never leave these two alone with a bottle of champagne. Lightweights."
Andy Roddick calls out, "It's about time! What is the news?"
Lleyton tilts his head then turns to Roger. "You said nobody else knew..."
"He's a damn sleuth," Roger mutters. Louder, he says, "Everyone. We have an announcement to make..."
Lleyton starts, "The Great Roger... oh, wait, that's a different speech," then starts giggling.
Marat turns to Tommy and asks, "Only champagne? I so owe you money for getting him started early. I had my doubts but I think I'll win everyone's cash."
"Shut up, Marat," Lleyton snaps, then clears his throat to say, "The announcement is... Blake's Candies is closing and will soon be replaced with Drover Baked Goods."
Roger says, "You're seriously using Drover? That is just wrong. Even The Kiwi Bakery is better."
"One, that's really cheesy," Lleyton says. "Two, I am close to certain not a single product will have kiwi in it, so it's just ripe for ridicule."
"Hold it!" Mardy calls out. He makes the effort to get off the chair and grab his crutches to approach them before asking straight up, "Lley, are you opening a bakery a block away from the diner? With Roger's help?" Both of them nod. "That is so awesome."
Marat heads over to Novak with the blender and gets two glasses. "This requires a toast, though there's only enough in here for two, so tough luck, Rog." John passes out cans of beer for the others while Marat is speaking. "It will be a shame to see you gone, since that will be the end of any sanity in that kitchen."
Sam and Mario exclaim, "Hey!"
"But it's nice to know we'll be able to bug you in such a convenient location!" Marat wraps Lleyton in a hug, then whispers, "Also, thank you for getting Roger drunk. I didn't think anyone other than myself after a fight with him was capable of that."
While others congratulate and Sam drags Lleyton to the poker table, muttering, "I know you cheated before so we will settle this once and for all," Gilles returns to playing his guitar, more of a blues rift. Andy Murray is startled at first by the sound, then doesn't miss a beat in continuing the "song".
The Aussie is getting out of here, not a moment too soon
Though he's prob'ly drunk enough to go howling at the moon
Lleyton turns around to see who sang that while Sam yells over his shoulder, "I'm going to knock you out with his guitar if you keep it up. The world will be a better place."
"You have your fun, I have mine," Murray retorts, right before he sees Lleyton face him with a puzzled look. Andy gives Lleyton a defiant stare before jotting down the lyrics.
"What was that about?" Lleyton asks.
Sam says proudly, "I will mess up his mind so badly he will fucking wish he'd gotten drunk instead."
* * * * *
About a half hour later, Andy Roddick approaches the spot at the counter where Roger and Tommy are sitting. Roger seems to have returned to business mode, back to design decisions.
"Oh you have got to be kidding," Andy exclaims loudly, then pushes the papers toward Tommy. "Do you really think it's even worth discussing this when you're not exactly sober?"
"That's kind of the point," Tommy says. "Attack now just to see what comes from that bottle of champagne." He shrugs. "It worked okay in college."
"I'll take your word for it." Andy sits in the stool next to Roger's. "I have been trying to hold off the vultures who want me in their drinking game. Who gave them the idea that I should be the target this year?"
Roger chuckles, then says, "That would be Sam. Futile effort, but it does help you and I divide money among fewer people. Assuming Sam wins, of course."
"Even including your little display with Lleyton, I would still say that Sam will be the drunkest. He actually thinks it is a good idea to see if he can push Other Andy into getting drunk tonight. Not a bet, just a stupid wager in his own head."
Roger raises an eyebrow. "That is a terrible idea." But since Roger is a bit tipsy, he surprises Andy with a kiss. "I do commend you for not stooping down to his level."
Tommy says, "If I'd known it would be like this, I would have backed someone other than Mario." Turning to the poker table. "That bet seems to be lost. Totally sober. I'll play deejay with Nicolas for awhile." He stands up, then walks over to Andy and says, "I don't hook up with people in closets but it's empty if you guys want..." Andy shoves him away before finishing that sentence.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Sam is ready to go into action. He says loudly, "I have work to do," then leaves the poker table for the booth.
Gilles is leaning against the wall, his legs propped on the booth as he's reciting stuff from his cooking class in a strange accent. Andy Murray asks, "Is that your version of an Australian accent?"
"At least I didn't resort to 'a shrimp on the barbie', unlike some idiots," pointing to Novak, who had been at the table a few minutes earlier, annoyed about failing at the martini. "How would you do an Australian?"
Andy doesn't get a chance to think about that because Sam calls out, “Hey there, Other Andy! The rock star. We need your help.”
"Can't you see I'm busy?" Even though he's really not busy, hanging around Gilles being a drunken idiot is better than hanging around Sam the idiot who is drunk. At least Gilles is making the evening fun whereas Sam wants revenge.
Sam shrugs, then yanks Andy from his seat and drags him to the table before he has a chance to protest. When they stop at the table and Andy has caught up, he struggles to get out of Sam's grip. But the cook is too strong, tightly wrapping his arms around him. Sam speaks very close to Andy's ear when he announces, “You can be our judge. Mardy wants out. This is so much better than holding onto the same glass all night.”
“Let go of me.” Murray continues to try to worm his way out.
Andy Roddick suddenly appears with a camera in his hand, taking a quick photo before reminding, “You forget the pictures can be used as proof… or blackmail. Don’t you have him in the pool? We," pointing to himself and Roger, who has popped up, snuggling against Andy's side, “as well as you, can win with this shot."
John says, “Don’t be so sure about that one yet, Roddick. We’re still wearing you down.” But he doesn't really mean it at this point, conceding that Roddick isn't intending to give in to Sam's challenge.
Murray mutters, “Damn it.” He’s not so sure this is worth the money but what the hell. He stands still, letting Sam pull him close as Roddick takes another photo before Roger leads him away.
Lleyton nods toward Roddick's retreating form, then calls out, “Sam, let him go.”
Andy stares Lleyton down, insisting, “I can get rid of him if I wanted to do so. As Roddick said…”
Lleyton narrows his eyes, taking long strides to where Sam and Andy are positioned. “Joke’s over. Sam…”
Sam is about to release his grip when he gets a sharp jab in the ribs and quickly backs away. “Damn it, Andy.”
Andy shrugs, feigning innocence. “Told ya I didn’t need your help.”
Sam staggers over to the table, holding his side as he sits. “Wow, that was impressive. Is your mom teaching self-defense courses?”
Before Andy has a chance to reply, Lleyton shoves him into the kitchen, saying, “Don’t. He’s actually liking you right now, which means he’s just being a drunk jackass.”
“It doesn't matter. Stop defending me. I am perfectly capable of dealing with the drunk jackass, as you may have seen."
"What is going on with you?" Lleyton realizes he sounds too loud but he's annoyed and wants to get this conversation over with.
"Should we really have this talk while you're drinking? I've been told logic goes out the window after a few sips of wine."
It takes a few seconds before it clicks what has been going on all this time. Lleyton's voice is getting louder, shock replaced with anger, "Are you fucking serious? Andy..."
"So there's nothing to discuss."
"You wanted to forget what happened that night, not me."
Andy stares Lleyton down, refusing to show any reaction to Lleyton's words. "Look, you politely turned me down. Which, fine, I understand. I don't need to be told twice."
"I told you if the situation was different that night I would have considered. You turned it into something else, ignoring everything. You even pushed me toward Tommy!"
"You two fit together. You deserve someone like him: handsome, charming, smart. Not..." Andy stops himself just before giving away too much. "No, not going there. You don't want to hear that. I'm sorry. This is not the time." He shakes his head and pushes away from Lleyton, needing to get out of here.
Lleyton watches, initially shocked but more determined than ever to finish this. He jolts into action, rushing to catch up to Andy, who has only gotten past the counter. Lleyton misjudges his foot speed and they end up colliding into a stool, Andy pinned in place.
Lleyton allows Andy to stand up and face him before he barks out, "What were you going to say?!"
"No." Andy tries to move away but Lleyton pushes him back, refusing to let him escape again.
"Stop it! You've made excuses to keep everyone from finding out the truth. You assume I'm not interested."
"You already told me once!"
"Take a chance. Make a move. Come on!"
"I already made a move, Lleyton! I'm not doing that again. I'm not making a fool of myself in front of everyone because they already think I'm a fool. I've done that enough."
There is no longer any sound to drown out this conversation. Lleyton was already vaguely aware but, more importantly, Andy has just figured that out and appears even more desperate to flee before everyone sees him break.
Lleyton places a palm on the back of Andy's neck and lowers his head so his view is blocked from the others. He whispers in Andy's ear, "Nobody thinks you're a fool. They think you're a bit of a prick perhaps but not a fool. Just loyal. Nobody is supposed to know you care about these people." Lleyton's fingers are making circles, hoping to calm Andy down.
Andy's voice catches in his throat when he asks, "What do you think?"
"You don't fool me. You've been burned in the past and afraid that'll happen again. So you do a pre-emptive strike. You may think it's the alcohol speaking but I know I desperately wish I'd kissed you back that night so that there wouldn't be these doubts. I won't tonight, even if I want to, because I want you to be sure I mean everything I'm saying. I don't play games but I get the feeling you think this is a game." Lleyton lets go and backs away, declaring for everyone else to hear, "This is not a game, you're not a fool and I really fucking wish you saw what everyone else sees. A damn good person who doesn't deserve to get fucked over."
Andy looks up, not sure exactly how to deal with everything Lleyton just said. He wishes he was drunk right now so he can react off of instinct. Instead, he sounds so small when he asks, "Can I please leave now?"
Lleyton nods, then watches Andy walk out of the diner, wishing his brain had stopped his mouth from saying all of that a little bit sooner. Reluctantly, he trudges over to the poker table, knowing all eyes are on him, and sits back down. "How can I be such an idiot?"
Sam says flippantly, "If I'm going to lose the pool, better to Marat than Roddick. To think, it didn't even require any work."
John hits him upside the head. Sam stares at him in shock, then John turns his back to him and assures Lleyton, "It's really not that bad."
Mardy is the one sitting next to Lleyton and, even though he's not quite sure what has happened in the last few days to lead to this moment, suspects he knows what's going on based on his day with Juan Martin. He brings Lleyton's head to rest on his shoulder and says softly, "If it makes you feel better, I think he's just shocked to discover you like him back."
Andy Roddick and Roger are in their booth in the corner, not really paying attention to what had just happened, when Marat swoops in on the other side. Roger is nuzzling Andy’s neck when he asks, “Should I be concerned about whatever the commotion was about?”
Marat says, “I think you’re past that point tonight. I’ll explain tomorrow morning. Right now, we need to get you home.”
Roger tries to be suave when he asks, “Can you make me pay for my error in judgment tonight?” He sits up, having changed paths. “I should know better with that particular bottle Tommy bought… my father told me there were certain brands…”
“We’re not having a wine discussion now,” Marat counters. “Andy, when you’re able to detangle him from you, let me know so I’ll drive. You need to stay here and deal with the frat.”
Chapter 13 - Drunken Aftereffects