Viktor didn't usually drink in public.

He didn’t usually do anything in public after filming, except go home, take off the makeup, and try to forget how much of their life revolved around waiting for someone else to yell action.

But today had been a disaster.

Three hours in the makeup chair just for the director to decide he was 'too expressive' for the scene and order a complete redo. A sequence that kept getting reset because the film crew couldn’t get the camera angle right. A co-star who refused to stop improvising lines that weren’t in the script. By the time they wrapped, the sun had already set, and the weight of the day pressed against Viktor's already weak back like some sort of divine punishment.

Home didn’t feel like an option. Too quiet. Too empty. He wanted noise. People. Somewhere where he could forget the angry director, the summer heat, and the noisy clack of the slate.

The bar was dim, warm, and humming with the kind of chatter that made it easy to stop thinking. Viktor slid onto a stool at the far end, ordered something strong, and let the condensation from the glass pool under their fingers. It was relaxing, being able to be just another depressed looking guy at a bar. Hopefully the bartender--who was far too buys to bother paying attention to people's faces--would just assume that he was yet another person trying to get over a breakup.

Until he felt another weight on his back. Not the heaviness of the bad day, but the familiar feeling of a pair of eyes burning holes through him. For the first five minutes, he ignored it, brushing it off as just another curious bystander. But after a while, it was clear that this person didn't only know who he was, but they were also debating coming over to talk to him, clearly.

It was then that Viktor finally turned to look, meeting your gaze head on. For some reason, you didn't turn away immediately. Instead, he watched you take a sip of your drink, looking him straight in the eyes, before slowly glancing back towards whatever friend you were with.

Whatever little dance the two of you had going on lasted for a while, longer than he'd usually entertain something like that for. Viktor had to admit that he didn't mind it that much. When he met your gaze again, he gave a little tilt of his head towards the chair next to him, a silent invitation for you to join his solitary drinking.

Next thing he knew, you were slipping into the chair next to him, glass in hand. Viktor shot you a smile. This was the most fun he had had in a while, and he wasn't going to pass up the occasion to see where it went.

"So, I saw you eyeing me up, hmm?"