“I don’t get it.” Alan said, stein and polishing rag in hand, as Theo sat the bar with his head in his hands. He wasn’t even drinking anything, just sitting there in confusion. It was around dusk, which was when he normally came in to play. Speaking of normal, The Pub was filling up with its usual clientele, and the chaos was starting to wind up.

“Me neither.” Theo just appreciated how uncomfortable his seat was. He didn’t think it would feel that way, but he knew he wasn’t comfortable with the wealth in the inner districts. He just stuck out. Much better here, where the floor was dirt and all the wood weathered and chipped, and everything made sense.

“And this is your new life, boy? Going to the fancy part of town and hobnobbing with the rich? To be a celebrity’s project?” Theo sank further into his seat and hung his head, hands now resting on top of his neck.

“I guess?” Theo said. “I mean, I heard some of those students, and I’m not even close to where they are. If I don’t take the help and turn up to class in two months, then I might as well just come back here and forget that all happened.” Theo sighed. “I still have some pride.”

“How deep inside is it?” Alan snorted dismissively. Theo groaned, and placed his head on the countertop. From his position kissing centuries’ worth of spilled drinks, Theo could hear Alan putting the stein away. A hand grasped his shoulder, and gently pulled his head away from its new job as a drinks coaster.

Alan had silently moved next to him, and was staring at him with furrowed brows and concern in his eyes. Theo wasn’t quite sure if it was so silent because of the years and years of working in an establishment more triage ward than sit-down restaurant, or if being a bartender meant people forgot you had a lower body, until even the world forgot about his legs (except for when he kicked people out).

It could also have been just because the noise level was rising like clockwork to the usual degree before Theo began his set, and you could commit a murder in the chaos without anyone hearing (which had, admittedly, occurred multiple times). Regardless, Theo didn’t expect Alan to be there, looking down at him with worry written across his face.

“Bo- Theo, are you alright?” In that moment, a thousand thoughts about Alan calling him by his name for the first time in living memory, about how weird it was seeing him not behind the bar, and every other inane thing in his brain disappeared. All that was left was a chorus of “No”s echoing and reverberating through his skull. He knew that he was profoundly NOT alright.

“No, not in the slightest.” Theo said, somehow coherent. Truly realising and understanding that he wasn’t okay was doing a number on his body, and he felt his limbs gradually turn numb and cold. He felt the chill flow down his arms, and by the time it reached his fingers, he was shaking.

“Theo, listen to me. Hey, Theo.” Alan shook him out of his reverie, command in his voice, slapping him in every way except physically. His eyes focused on Alan for a moment, before they darted down and scoured the floor for a good excuse.

“Yeah? I’m…I’m here. I think.” Theo sighed. “I…it’s a lot to take in. Why me? What have I got?” He looked at Alan, searching for an answer that he knew only he could find. Alan sighed, paused, and stiffly patted him on the shoulder before letting a silence build between them, bridging across the arm connecting them. Theo found that it was a silence he was comfortable with.

After enough time to get used to the hand on his shoulder, Alan removed it, looked away, and coughed. Theo smiled weakly.

“Do you think I could hide away here and pretend it never happened?” Alan snorted, and headed behind the bar again.

“I would never let you throw away an opportunity like this. I’d eat every piece of glass in this building before I let you do that.” He grabbed the same stein as before, checked it, and placed it back down as a reached for a mug.

“And you might want to uh,” Alan patted his cheek, “Dry your face.” Theo raised a hand to his cheek, and when he removed it, it was wet. He had been crying. He nodded, and squeezed his way through the crowd to reach the door.

Outside, in the dark, Theo wiped at his face and sniffed where nobody could see him. Taking a shuddering breath, he wondered what he should do. He knew that a lot of others in his position would jump for joy and not think twice. He gently slapped himself.

“Fuck it, might as well just head back in.” Theo murmured. It was worth a shot, but he still wasn’t convinced. And besides, while he didn’t want Alan eating glass, it would be pretty funny to see him try.

Making his way back inside, Alan made eye contact as soon as he was in the door. With a quizzical look, he held out a tentative thumbs up while pouring a beer with his other hand. Theo paused, nodded and returned the thumbs up. Understanding, Alan finished pouring the beer, before cupping his mouth and taking a deep breath.

“Oi! Everybody listen up!” Theo’s eyes widened as Alan shouted, and The Pub slowly turned from a storm of bees to a cemetery, as a wave of people shushing and elbowing their friends to be quiet rippled out from the bar.

“Our resident bard here has caught the eye of a fancy bard, at the fancy College of Song.” Alan indicated in Theo’s direction. Jeers rang out and people booed, more at the mention of someone being fancy than the College. After all, some of the regulars came from the College of War.

“Oh no.” Theo whispered, as every pair of eyes in the house focused in on his location. Alan put his arms out to quieten the crowd, which was impressive, given how the local guards had an entire team dedicated solely to The Pub. Soon, quiet did return, and Alan continued.

“Our Theo isn’t sure if he should go. If he’s good enough. If he has what it takes to get out of this shithole with all of you fuckwits and do something with his life.” Some rumblings of discontent started to build, before Alan held out his hand again.

“So tonight, while his soon-to-be-famous eminence is still here, tell him what you really think of him, and how good he is.” And with no fanfare, Alan picked up a wine glass, and his polishing rag, and got back to work.

Theo looked around, and an orderly queue was forming in front of him. How a packed crowd could suddenly turn into a neat and polite line, he had no idea. It was less preposterous an idea, however, than the thought that all these people cared about him.

“I love your Donkey and the Wench.” That thought was slowly becoming the reality that Theo had to contend with.

“I know some people starting at the College of War next year. I’ll bring them around next time!” One after the other, it felt like half of The Pub (and most of the regulars who listened to him play) were waiting to speak to and encourage him.

“If they don’t want you, they got no taste.” Some of these people were just faces in a crowd when he performed, but Theo vowed to memorise each and every one of them for believing in him. He sniffed, blinked his eyes hard, and found everyone around him had conveniently looked away and were definitely not paying any attention to the state of his face. Steeling himself in a way he hadn’t done before, Theo nodded and the line started to move again.

Eventually, the line ran out, and everyone was gathered around Theo chanting his name.

“Theo! Theo! Theo!” He had no words to describe how this made him feel. But it felt good. They looked at him, and slowly the chant changed. “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

Theo took a deep breath, paused, and realised that he had no idea what to say. So he kept it short.

“Thank you, everyone.” He rubbed his eyes and put on his biggest smile. Theo grabbed his lute and made his way to where he normally performed.

“Now, who wants to hear the Donkey and the Wench?”

---

At the end of the night, after hours of playing, Theo did feel better. His set was done and instead of heading home, he was at the bar, first seat on the left, having a drink with a smile on his face.

“I have to know, how’d you convince everyone to play along?” Theo asked Alan, as he drank his beer.

“Simple.” Alan replied, with the kind of face that said the answer was obvious. “I didn’t have to. You’re a good lad, and we like you here.” Theo’s smile grew wider, and he sat a little straighter in his seat.

“How’re you feeling, boy? Gonna go off and become famous and forget all about us? After performing here for so many years?” Alan teased, polishing his fifth wine glass of the night.

Theo looked around him, at the people still chatting and roughhousing and generally being intimidating, but friendly. He felt something warm in his heart, and felt his face relax. He was safe.

“Nah. I think I’ll always come back here, no matter how famous I get.”