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He'd gone a good couple of weeks avoiding Courtland McQueen. They didn't always run in the same circles and it was easier to do than one might think, all things considered, especially when 'work' had Court out of town for one reason or another. Since he'd come back, though, his phone had gone off a few times, each time after the first seeming more and more insistent.

Finally he had responded, setting a time and date for a meet up-- local bar, decent food, good drinks; somewhere that Court didn't perform where they might be able to enjoy a bit of quiet without someone recognizing the Queen out of dress up. The hours ticked closer to the appointed time, each one making it all the more tempting to text Court to cancel. It wouldn't work, of course, he'd just... <********>, he'd just show up at his apartment.

"Drinks and food that you don't have to cook," he muttered to himself as he pulled a jacket on over his v-neck. He checked himself in the mirror before snagging his keys on the way to the door. Maybe he'd luck out... Maybe the evening would be painless.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he stepped inside, pausing to look around the restaurant for a moment. He thought he'd have a chance to breathe but the wide-eyed look of recognition on the hostess's face when she spotted him said otherwise. Court had gotten here first.

He shrugged out of his jacket as he followed after the young woman, putting on a smile. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but he managed it well enough. Charisma wasn't always his strong suit... But he could be handsome when the occasion called for it.

Halston was grateful to be lead to a booth that didn't seem to be surrounded by others, sinking down onto the cushion across from the other man. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Mr McQueen."

"Bit hard to avoid you for three weeks when you're out of town for almost two of them, don't you think?" His brow quirked as he reached for the glass of water sitting on the table, giving it a quick sniff before taking a small sip. This place generally had water that tasted much better than the rest of the city, but one could never be too sure... Especially when spending time with photo-happy Courtland McQueen.

"I'm fine. Really. My family's been back in town and they're making things their usual hell." He left out that they'd come back to town when one of his neighbors had reported him 'missing' after he'd been gone for a few days, or that his brother had brought up the topic of picking up a coaching job at the university-- he'd burn the whole thing to the ground first if it meant not having to live in the same town as Zane again. "Twenty-seven years old and still going nowhere with that degree? Should have thought about going into law instead? Or what about being a doctor? You know Z's girlfriend is studying to be a doctor..." He mimicked his mother's voice as best he could, knowing accuracy wouldn't matter as Courtland had never met Mrs O'Hea before.

"The lighting gigs should start rolling in again soon, though. Fall productions leading into the holiday arts season and all. They'll get off my a** when I'm not squandering away my savings."

"Mm, yeah. 'Bout that... Screen cracked on my phone the night I was mugged. Couldn't get in to anything for a while, so you're not the only one who hasn't been hearing from me." Parts of his story was true, most of it believable. The mugging? Well, that was something he hadn't mentioned before. Purposefully. It was more than a little hard to try and make excuses for something he hadn't bothered filing a police report for.

Why yes. Hello? DCPD? I'd like to report a mugging. The assailant? Oh, a young woman, at least six inches shorter than me-- petite build, slim, but packed one hell of a--- Wait, Hello? Hello?

No one would have believed that s**t, least of all Courtland who seemed to sometimes think he was some sort of Superman when it came to physique.

"I appreciate it, I do, but I think I can manage. The orchestra is gearing up for its winter season and I have an interview at one of the bars in town that runs weekly shows."

Halston resisted the urge to roll his eyes, reaching across the table to rest a hand on Court's wrist in an attempt to steady him. The last thing he wanted right now was a scene of any sort. He wasn't sure he could actually handle any drama or theatrics-- not without a drink, which neither of them had ordered yet.

He gave his friend a stern, steady look before drawing his hand back, putting the emphasis on picking up his menu to peer over the lunch specials along with the neat list of beverages that would pair well with each one. "There wasn't anything the police could have done. They didn't get anything," except for maybe a bit of his dignity, "and the phone took the worst of it. Couldn't get to any of my contacts, though, and you'd said something about being out of town on 'business'. I wasn't going to interrupt any of your work with something trivial."

"I'm thinking about getting the salmon. The drink they've got paired up with that looks interesting, don't you think? But there's always the surf and turf option as well. Is that too heavy for lunch?" His brow quirked as he glanced up from the menu, giving Courtland a pointed look that clearly stated the topic was no longer up for discussion, at least not while neither of them had ordered yet.

"How was your Europe trip?" He looked back down to the menu, pondering his options once more.

"Mm. Might be too early in the afternoon for a bottle of wine for me." That he said 'bottle' and not 'glass' spoke to the state of mind he was in with everything that had been going on since he'd last spoken directly with Courtland. "Salmon, cocktail and the grilled vegetables is probably the route I'll be going. Anything on the appetizer menu that catches your eye?"

He glanced up as he reached for his water glass again, bringing it up to his lips to take another gulping sip. "Sounds like far too much of everything all at once for my tastes."

He did order the spinach dip to be brought out before their meal, asking that his cocktail not be brought out until their main course was ready to be served. Better that way, honestly, with less of a chance of ordering another. "If we're going to take wine back to your place we can swing by somewhere else before heading home... Unless you really want one of their overpriced bottles over the stuff you seem to prefer drinking on wine nights."

Honestly, a 'wine night' didn't sound like a terrible idea. He'd managed to go this far since the night his life had been tipped and altered without drinking himself stupid... Doing it in a controlled area with a friend wouldn't be a problem, right?