Hookers, drinks and parking tickets.
James Wilson. Organized, on time and well put. Or so he likes to think. Women swoon all over him, men aspire to be like him. Well until they realize this is his third divorce. Then starts the pity.
Gregory House. Sarcastic, unserious and dresses like a 12 year old scene kid. Or so people say. He is intelligent. He’s a music prodigy, just, doesn’t always act like one. People normally hate him, well except the ones who don’t know him and see him as a cripple. Then starts the pity.
So explain how these two polar opposites of people ended up at the same bar staring right at each other, not saying a word.
Okay hold on.
Let’s go back a few days.
4 days earlier.
W
“Okay, you ready to go?”- House asks grabbing his cane hung on top of the doorway.
“Uh yeah, just… have you seen my phone?”- Wilson asked looking around him. He pat down almost everything, his pockets, the couch, his pockets, his pockets again…
“Nope! Another thing you refused to give me.”
“Fuck, where could it be?”- He was practically talking to himself.
“You check your coat pockets?”
“Of course I did-“
Fuck.
“Damn you sure you’re not still ‘drunkshw’?”- House said imitating Wilson.
“Shut up the phones here let’s just go”
“Hey! Careful I could still just not drive you home.”
“Right, yeah, sorry”- Wilson replied scratching the back of his neck.
***************************
The map was pulled up on House’s phone, since Wilson’s phone was completely out of battery. House drove fast. They were definitely going over the speed limit.
“Hey the offer still stand, if I can… repay you somehow.”
“And my answer still stands. If you find a hooker named Stacey, you know my address.”
They were here. This is it. He says goodbye and this is the last time he’s ever going to talk to Gregory House. Ever.
“So uh, this is it.”
“Yup.”
“Okay well, thank you House, uh I’ll tell you if I find that hooker.”- he replied furrowing his eyebrows with an awkward smile.
House smiled, he looked down then back at Wilson. It was quiet outside, but also in his head. The world had stopped.
2 days later
H
The TV was on full volume, the weather channel was on. The radio was blasting a random song.
You are often in a good mood. That’s what I like about you.
It was loud.
You accept the things I do. Without feeling neglected.
Really loud.
On the road, you stay in my heart. When I’m gone, I can’t stop thinking of you.
But somehow, in all the chaos of the sounds.
Are the only one who makes me feel invincible. Don’t need much more than you make me see what’s worth living for.
His head never seems to go quiet.
I love your smile. When I wake up every morning next to you
Not in the same way it did.
The radio was slammed off. The TV shut off. No sounds left, yet it’s louder than before.
**************
W
Chattering, bickering, computer clicks.
His boss was angry, there was no way he could leave early today.
His headphones were on as he was responding to emails. He was listening to House’s song.
He couldn’t stop thinking about him.
New tab opened. Instagram.com
Search bar.
Gregory House.
Two accounts.
The first one had over 3 million followers. @hookerpuller
Of course
The second account had barely 20 followers. @house.g
The second one was private.
Fuck it here it goes.
Request sent.
*************
House’s phone buzzes. What the hell?
♦ @james.w has requested to follow you.
Hm.
*************
♦ New message from @house.g
- H: You find a hooker?
- W: Uh no?
- H: Then what do you want?
- W: You texted me!
- H: You followed me.
Well he wasn’t wrong
- W: Well I was wondering
Bad idea.
- W: if you wanted to
Delete the message.
- W: go out for a drink tonight?
- H: typing…
What did he just do? He’s only met this guy once when he was drunk out of his mind and now he’s asking him out to a drink?
- H: Yeah sure why not.
- W: You know where Rupin bar is?
- H: Oh no you’re picking me up. Part of returning the favor ;)
Current time
House is slurping a ‘brain freeze’ drink from a twisty straw.
Wilson has a beer.
They aren’t really saying anything.
“So…”
“Mhm?”
“When did you start playing the guitar?”
“8th grade.”
Wilson stayed silent. House spoke again. He didn’t leave the room quiet for too long. Never.
“I never really asked you, what’s your job? Just don’t say you work at a bank please.”
Well…
House spoke again:
“You work at a bank don’t you?”
“Yeah…”
“God I hate going to the bank. There’s never really anyone useful there.”
“Don’t worry I dread working there as much as anyone dreads going.”
“Good. I like you”
He was strange. House made Wilson forget all his worries though.
*******************
They got to know each other. Stayed way over what they paid parking for and walked out together. A feeling arose from inside both of them. They couldn’t explain it yet, but they knew it felt pleasant.