[ He doesn't want to talk about it. He really, really doesn't want to talk about it. But more than that, Nate knows that shoving it all down into his chest every time it threatens to spill out is more dangerous than offering the slightest bit of information, and while Drake doesn't know him well, they have enough of a frame of reference between them that he can probably stand to share something. ]
yeah, we can catch up. you been to the red wings bar yet?
[ Drake heads straight there, orders a cheap beer at the bar and waits at it -- he's easy for Nate to spot considering he looks almost exactly the same, minus some hair length on top. And he raises his glass when he sees Nate enter.
[ With someone he actually knows Nate has fewer qualms about greeting Drake with a hand clapped to his shoulder, knowing the barrier of clothing will protect them both from unnecessary (or unwanted) empathetic sharing. In times like these, people should be entitled to their own thoughts and emotions. ]
Hey.
[ He takes the seat next to him, finding it difficult to tear his gaze away. ]
[ The contact gets Nate a broad, easy smile from Drake. He's a touchy guy, is used to shoulder clapping or hugging his friends at the least so New Amsterdam has been... a challenge. Lonely, and isolating even when it's not. And that's without considering his own personal weirdness. ]
It really is. You managed to make any friends in the time you've been here?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
yeah, we can catch up. you been to the red wings bar yet?
no subject
no subject
no subject
There's an empty barstool next to him. ]
Hey. You're a sight for kidnapped eyes.
no subject
Hey.
[ He takes the seat next to him, finding it difficult to tear his gaze away. ]
Jesus, it's good to see a familiar face.
no subject
It really is. You managed to make any friends in the time you've been here?