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Life under the sea is getting to him. At first it’d seemed a fine opportunity: start a new career, charm crowds in another way, make a brand new life without worrying about the mess he’d left on the surface. (Take himself away from Agnes and the girls. Let them have their life back, so they don’t have to worry about what kind of trouble he’s going to get into. So there are no more journalists hounding them, trying to get a new angle on the story of a lawyer falling from grace. Not that he had fallen from grace; that was just the way they liked to spin it.)
Nothing was as bright as he’d hoped. He’s made a mark for himself as a performer, sure, but it's just as glum a life as some of the girls had told him. And it isn’t the same; he misses the thrill of the courtroom, the way he could spin the rules on their head and give the people a show they’d never seen. He misses Eda, too. Misses her in ways that pull his heart and sometimes nearly left him sobbing. He should’ve given up on this endeavor as soon as he’d heard she wouldn’t come. Should have known every wrong would feel ten times worse without her.
It doesn’t help that he hasn’t felt well since arriving. Hasn’t felt like himself since before the trial, and it’s getting harder and harder to recover from drinking, harder to function without drinking and harder to focus when he does drink. And there’s that, too: with and without alcohol, it’s getting harder to think straight, harder to remember what he was doing five minutes ago or who he’s supposed to be. It’s a terrible feeling, though he won’t speak of it to anyone.
Tonight’s particularly rough, and he’s asked Phoenix to his rooms intending to announce that the kid’ll have to take over tonight. Fallon’s head is just too much of an ache, and he feels down, too far down to perform in front of anyone. Besides, the kid’s got talent, and it’ll be good for him to get out of his shell.
Pouring himself another drink (they’ve got plenty of booze at the bottom of the ocean, and thank god for that), he rubs his head and waits.
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you get all the fun fallon
Nothing was as bright as he’d hoped. He’s made a mark for himself as a performer, sure, but it's just as glum a life as some of the girls had told him. And it isn’t the same; he misses the thrill of the courtroom, the way he could spin the rules on their head and give the people a show they’d never seen. He misses Eda, too. Misses her in ways that pull his heart and sometimes nearly left him sobbing. He should’ve given up on this endeavor as soon as he’d heard she wouldn’t come. Should have known every wrong would feel ten times worse without her.
It doesn’t help that he hasn’t felt well since arriving. Hasn’t felt like himself since before the trial, and it’s getting harder and harder to recover from drinking, harder to function without drinking and harder to focus when he does drink. And there’s that, too: with and without alcohol, it’s getting harder to think straight, harder to remember what he was doing five minutes ago or who he’s supposed to be. It’s a terrible feeling, though he won’t speak of it to anyone.
Tonight’s particularly rough, and he’s asked Phoenix to his rooms intending to announce that the kid’ll have to take over tonight. Fallon’s head is just too much of an ache, and he feels down, too far down to perform in front of anyone. Besides, the kid’s got talent, and it’ll be good for him to get out of his shell.
Pouring himself another drink (they’ve got plenty of booze at the bottom of the ocean, and thank god for that), he rubs his head and waits.