07.01.3013: The Damn 'L' Word
Summary: Drake seeks out Cole for some advice on woman and matters of the heart.
Date: July 1 2013
Related: {$related}
Drake Cole 

The Ventralis Manor
There will be one eventually
IC 07-01-3013

Drake has had better days. He's also had worse ones, but those were usually the fault of a hangover. He waffled this way and that before finally getting off his duff and heading over to Volkan. Working his way up the Tower of Cask, he scrubs his hair back from his face, almost turning away again at the last moment. The heat of Volkan, so different from the summer warmth of Landing, has popped a light sheen of sweat onto his features. It could also be a case of the nerves from walking up to the door of a legend of rock and roll and buzzing to announce his presence.

It was very tempting for Cole to buy out the top of tower years ago. And it wasn't like he didn't have the cash to throw around, but realistically, the only thing he'd really get out of it would be sky lights, and that didn't seem like it'd be worth the investment. So long as he had a couple of porches, he wasn't going to complain too much. Either way, the Ventralis Manor is one of the larger abodes in the tower. A lot of room for just one person, the owner might make the complaint that he hasn't been in some rooms in years. His daughter having moved out years ago, even since it's just been him and his assistant/friend Lucas. At the indication of the buzzer, the screen on the panel flickers to life, a middle-aged man on the other side of the screen. "Can I help you?" the accent is very Volkan. There's a glimmer of recognition. "Master Danger, right? Cole has talked about you. Did…you have an appointment?"

Drake shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly, "Ah… no. I meant to comm ahead, but I…. uh… I wasn't sure I'd be able to stop by." Which means he wasn't sure if he was going to chicken out or not. "No, I was just stoppin' by. If he's busy, it's not a big deal, but uh… I kind of was hoping I might stop in, ask a question or two… nothin' big. Just lookin' for a little advice is all."

Lucas nods. "Alright, just hold on a minute." The screen blanks off, turning to a 'on hold' image. Half a minute or passes before the man's face reappears. "C'mon on up, Cole'd be happy for the visit." The door unlocks at that point, leading to the private lift to the manor. Once arriving, one of the double door has already opened, Lucas waiting. "Welcome, Master Danger. Cole's in the exercise room at the moment, I'll show the way." The place is pretty damn huge and open from being held in a tower. Everything one would expect for having a pile of money to throw around to make a place look nice. There's plaques of Bronze Corsair albums, platinum discs, particular guitars…a lot of guitars. Some played for only a single concert, other signed by muscians that man idolized when he much, much younger. "Been a long time since Cole had a visitor besides Trisha, Marcus, or his daughter."

In the exercise room is Cole, in workout clothing and currently picking out a dumbbell to work with. Nothing heavy, just something that keeps his body from falling apart. "Cole." Lucas interrupts, to get the older man's attention. "Ah, Drake. How you doing?" Hand fiddles with a control turning down the volume on a HNN broadcast. "What brings you here?"

Drake takes half a step back in that half minute, then manages to steady himself, waiting out the rest of the short time. "Thanks." He steps into the lift, then out again when the door opens, looking around more than a little wide-eyed, "Yeah… I've gotta get me one of these some time." Whether he's talking about the mansion, the platinum discs, or something else altogether is quite open for interpretation. He nods his thanks to Lucas, "I really don't mean to interrupt." But that doesn't stop him from following his way through the maze of rooms to the weight room, "Just… not a whole lot of people for me to talk to either outside of the band, my folks…" There's one important person left off that list, but he just leaves that hanging. As he is announced, such as it is, Drake nods to Lucas again, "Thanks again, man." Turning his attention to Cole and making his way over toward the other man, he shrugs a bit, "Hey… thanks for takin' the time. Didn't mean to interrupt or anything, I'm happy to help if you want a spotter… just…" And then he goes uncomfortable again, and he shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know, Cole… guess I was just hopin' you could give me some advice on something."

"Heh, spotter. Nah, isn't any bother. You don't see people coming to break down my door. Press thinks the band's little stint was a one-time thing, so it pettered down pretty quick. Though fansites are blowing up over it." Cole muses, sitting down on a weight bench. "Have to keep the body in shape, or I'm just going to sit around and get fat. I'd call it vanity if it wasn't for the knee needing the exercise." It is only a twenty pound dumbbell, afterall. He's in shape enough, well, for someone in their mid-sixties. "I also haven't lived this long to not be able to figure out when something is eatin' at a person." There's a grin. "Dunno how good my advice going to be, kid. Though I suppose do enough dumb shit in your life and learn what -not- to do, at least." As he lifts the weight, he guestures for him to take a seat on a nearby stool. "So. What's up."

Drake chuckles, "Fansites. Man. I've been tryin' not to read those, even if they're like, all new. Some of those people are crazy." Says the guy with at least three arrests on his record already. He moves over to another machine, dropping down on the bench and resting his forearms on the back-brace, "Well, you've been married whatsit, three times? I mean, how do you know when she's the one… or, I guess… one'a the ones?" He doesn't really leave time for an answer immediately, rolling his shoulders and chuckling ruefully, "I got L-bombed a couple of days ago, and I think Vallas is pissed that I didn't say it back. Good part is, I think she's pissed enough that she's not grievin' so hard, but…"

"Oh. Oooooh." Cole nods, though there's a hint of amusement. "-That- question. And you're looking to the man who failed that whole shindig three times for advice. No, but I hear you." There's a sigh, or it was the exhale from lifting the weight. "The fact of the matter is, Drake, you never know. You write songs, right? And when you find the lyrics that just -feels- right, yeah? Like, the words just fit into place? It's…kinda like that, but it's more about a person than lyrics. It's a hard things to describe." At the end of the story, he whistles painfully. "You didn't say it back?"

Drake shrugs a little helplessly at the counter-question to start with, grinning, "Hey… experience counts, even if it's bad experience, right?" He nods slowly at the explanation, and his smile fades away again at the whistle and the words that follow, "Well… I mean… I don't want to say it and not have it be true. I mean, with her. Like, I've sung it… Gods… hundreds of times to girls before, but that was just trying to get them in the sack. I never hesitated with them. But she said it to me, and I just, man Cole, I just fuckin' froze."

"No, no, I get you." Cole nods. "Because saying it and not meaning would be doing a lot more damage than not saying it at all." He waggles a finger of his free at Drake. "That's how I got roped into my second marriage. The only good thing that came out of it was Vivian. Kid, love is one topic that musicians, poets, philosophers have been writing about and trying to figure for a long damn time. I think it's one of the few things we really haven't exactly sorted out. It just happens, yeah? But you gotta do what you're doing now, figure out how you feel. Which…yeah, can annoy the womenfolk. Ironic since they tend to think shit over more often than men do. I guess I'll ask this," the weight changes hands. "If you couldn't see her again, how would that make you feel?"

Drake nods his agreement with the response, lowering his chin on his crossed wrists, "Hell, Cole, I can sing about love just fine. That's what got me in trouble in the first damn place." He shrugs a little, "She wasn't annoyed, at least not at first. I think she got a bit pissed when I didn't say it at the Bonfires. Day of passion and all that." Blowing out his breath, he leans forward, then straightens up to shake his hair away from his head, biting back his first response to the question and actually thinking about it. "Well. It'd suck. Hard. I'd probably start singin' the blues, instead of the ballads I've been writing lately."

"A lot of people can sing about and not know a damn thing about it." Cole remarks, letting the weight drop to the hard rubber padded floor. "Heard more than a few songs in my times that lauded that kind of stuff, but the writer wouldn't know love if it slapped them in the face. Sad thing is, most of need to be slapped in the face when confronted with it. Most times, we don't know we are until far too late, for good or for bad." Nodding, he reaches over for the water he had been drinking. "We all have muses." he agrees. "But I say, when in situations like this, is when we can be at our best. In a sense. I know it's not exactly the same but…you want to know why After The Descent a lot of people thought was our best work? Because at that time, I was coping with the fact that Trish married Marcus, I never once told her how I felt about her. You need to figure out what you want, Drake. I know how the lure can be. I'm sure we could compare our little black books with each and get similiar results, but there comes a point when just one person makes you happy, rather than the peice of ass of the week. And when you come to that point, you'll know." There's a pregnant pause afterward. "Or…you fuck up like me and say the wrong woman's name in bed. That's I knew I was in love with my first wife."

Drake nods an admission at the first point. The bit of insight into the band's background causes him to lift his eyebrows, although he does laugh slightly, "Man… I bet your book's like… ten times the depth of mine." Of course, he's also been an adult like, five times as long. The mention of the other woman's name causes him to laugh again, "Really? No shit? Man… there's a reason I never get drugged up — besides what it does to how I play. A couple'a beers is plenty to have me talkin' out my ass, I don't ever wanna know what it's like…" He clears his throat, realizing that he's blabbing perhaps just a bit too much about his own weaknesses in front of a legend, "Uh… thanks for the advice, Cole. I mean, I still don't now what the hell I'm gonna do, but at least now I know I'm not the only guy who doesn't or didn't."

Cole scoffs. "Only? Please. Whatever anyone else says or claims, it's just as likely that rest of us don't have a fucking clue either. When it comes to stuff like this, more often than not, we wing it. We never know what the hell we're gonna do, not with matters of the heart. Because that damn thing has a mind of it's own. Moreso than the one in the pants." There's a sharp smirk. "No shit indeed. It's a very…uncomfortable moment. About the worst modd-killer I've ever had. Never really did talk my out of that one. But, the first thing I did is that I went that particular woman at the time and told her exactly how I felt." He shrugs. "Like I said, don't know how good advice it'll end up being, but it's what I got. And for the record, I still haven't figure it out myself. Maybe some things are never meant to be. They just…" he makes a gesture with a hand, "…happen." Beat. "How is she, by the way? I saw that her father passed away. We talked about him a little when she came to do my interview."

Drake opens his mouth to make a smart comment about the heart having a mind of its own, and then Cole beats him to it. The younger rocker points to the elder, nodding his head, "You said it." The question about Letha causes him to let out a slow breath, "I don't know. I've been tryin' to keep her pretty busy. She was… hell, she was really shaken up. He'd been fadin' for a while, but she's got some real fond memories of him." Straightening up on the weight bench, he runs his fingers through his hair again, "She's been stayin' at my place in Landing the last couple of days, to get her out of that big spooky house."

"Poor girl. I know what losing parents can be like." Cole replies with a nod. "It's never an easy thing to deal with, no matter what age you might be. And that's good of you to offer your place to her. I would've offered mind for her but, I hardly use a fourth of the rooms in this place these days, but figure it'd be just as bad at her dad's place. But the offers there, in any case. For both of you. You ever want to use my recording room, feel free. That's one of the few places here that sees any attention." Lips twist into a frown. "I know she's got you and neither of you are hutin for cash, but if she needs somebody to talk to if you ever get busy with work, just point her my way."

Drake looks up and around, "There's somethin' similar, mostly 'cause of the size. But there's cloth over all the furniture there." That might be a secret that's not his to share, and he looks down, clearing his throat, "Uh… please don't share that 'round." He scratches at the back of his head, then brushes his hair back with one hand after the other, "That's a real nice offer, Cole. I don't know 'bout Blondie, but I'll totally take you up on that some time." He rises to his feet, "And I will. Point her your way if she needs to talk to someone else." Crossing to the older man, he holds out his right hand to shake, "Thanks, Cole."

"Don't share what?" Cole asks, oblivious, then winks. "Eh, I'm not getting any younger, and it feels like a damn shame to horde this place all to myself. Though…if she starts dropping by my place, people are gonna think things. I mean…I'm good, but I don't think I'm -that- good anymore." A laugh. "She's got a good heart, and I remember being young and not having any answers. And the older you get, you find some, but never all." Rising up to his feet, he shakes Drake's hand. "Anytime, kid."

Drake nods at the winking words, although he laughs, "C'mon Cole, you'll put out another what… four, five platinums in you?" He shakes the older man's hand, shrugging his shoulders, "Letha's managed to stay outta the news with me…" he blinks, coughing lightly, "Uh, mostly. Then again, I bet you got a whole bunch more journos followin' you, no matter what you say." He nods back in a… maybe… southerly direction, then adds, "I should get on back. Guess I gotta whole lot of thinkin' to do."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" Cole leaves the topic of any further albums ambiguous. "Not as many these days, but then again, you stay out of the limelight for awhile and people are content to figure that you're just happy to roll around in your piles of credits if come off as a shut in." A nod. "Yeah, you do. Best of luck in that, just don't let it turn into sleepless nights. In the end, you'll know what you need to do. Just don't force it."

Drake smirks faintly at that, a dimple punching into one cheek, "Yeah… there's only two reasons I have a sleepless night." And then he nods, starting for the door, stopping, and pointing out the door, "Downstairs, two lefts, a right, and the third door on the right?" Yeah, probably not quite the right directions, but he might be within a turn or two.

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