[ the lounge is nice, despite the bustling of servers here and there. steve sits at a booth, elbows on the table as he watches the performance on stage. he's almost transfixed, mouth slightly agape as he takes in the sight of dancing and singing. he's been to plays, sure, with his parents - but this is different. he folds his arms, head tilting, before his milkshake arrives. it's strawberry-vanilla, cherries and whipped cream served up with a spoon and straw.
steve plucks the straw out of its paper package and slides it into the ice cream, taking a long sip to allow it to flow upward. he's alone, fingertips mixing the shake with his straw. he glances back at the stage, eyes on the performers, before he takes another sip. ]
no subject
steve plucks the straw out of its paper package and slides it into the ice cream, taking a long sip to allow it to flow upward. he's alone, fingertips mixing the shake with his straw. he glances back at the stage, eyes on the performers, before he takes another sip. ]