[C] In Case of an Emergency...

He straightened up, eyes bright.

"I love Wicked! It has been a while since I've seen it - a couple of years ago on Broadway I believe? Wish I could have seen in when Idina Menzel was in it." He gushed.

"Who did you play?"

He was leaned forward, resting his weight on one arm.

"Yeah, it's all right as far as shows go."

He enjoyed it, he did. But there were better plays out there. Like Blood Brothers. Or Heathers. Now those were shows.

"Fiyero."

His lips quirked up into a crooked grin. "And Id say I nailed the part pretty good."

A grin stretched on his face and he leant in even closer, eyes scanning the other man's body. The clothes were... Okay. His face? Gorgeous.

"Yeah, I can totally see you playing that part."

Catching himself gazing at his face a little too long he pushed himself back up against the mirror wall and his eyes landed on his feet again.

"Wished I could have seen you- it. The show. Maybe next time? Then we can have drinks with Sienna after."

Stroking his ego like that was the best way to get into Maddox's good books.

He sat up a little straighter, chin raising just a little, and his grin widening a fraction.

"Don't know when Wicked will be coming back into our little theatre, but I can definitely tell you when the next show comes around. I'll definitely be playing a major part." That was guaranteed. If he didn't play the male lead in the plays, he played as good as, and was always the lead understudy.

He and Willow dominated that theatre.

He nodded eagerly, hands clapping together.

"You must! Whatever it is I will come and see it. Especially if you are playing a major part again."

And he meant it. He never said something and not follow through with it.

"If I have my way and it's Blood Brothers I'll be playing the Narrator."

He called dibs on that role, right from the get go of the theatre group. The Narrator was just his calling.

"Shoes upon the table
And a spider's been killed
Someone broke the looking glass," he sang in a hum. That song was his jam.

"I haven't heard of that one. Also being the Narrator sounds kinda boring," he commented.

But he guessed if Maddox wanted to be the Narrator then it must be a good role. From what he had gathered from Maddox so far he wanted to play the best parts of a production.

He listened to the hum of the unrecognisable song.

"Go on," he said encouragingly.

"I get to narrate a dark tale of a pair of twins being torn apart and reuniting in a tragic series of events. That's not boring, it's beautiful."

He was passionate about this play.

"I'm not promising my best performance. I still have a headache of a lifetime, and I'm suffering caffeine withdrawals like a bitch," he warned.

The he straightened up, pushed his shoulders back, and began in a commanding voice.

"How swiftly those who've made a pact
Can come to overlook the fact
Or wish the reckoning be delayed
But a debt is a debt, and must be paid.

Shoes upon the table
An' a spiders been killed
Someone broke the looking glass
Full moon's shinin'
And the salt's been spilled.

You're steppin' on pavement cracks
Don't know what's come to pass
Now you know the Devil's got your number
Y'know he's gonna find ya
Y'know he's right behind ya.

He's starin' through your windows
He's creeping down the hall"

"Sounds tragic."

In all honesty, when Maddox put it that way, it sounded a lot more interesting.

He slipped into silence as he just sat and listened. His mouth upturned into a smile and his eyes rested on his trainers. His English was good, his mother and private tutors made sure of that. But he still had to concentrate hard when listening to new songs to understand them.

He was getting really into this little performance now.

His head was throbbing, but he sang his heart out even if he was in pain. He loved this song more than life itself.

"No point clutching at your rosary
You're always gonna know what was done
Even when you shut your eyes you still see
That you sold a son
And you cant tell anyone

But you know the Devil's got your number
Y'know he's gonna find ya
Y'know he's right behind ya
He's standing on your step
And he's knocking at your door

He's knocking at your door
He's knocking at your door!"

When he finished, he grinned and dipped his head in a parody of a bow.

When Maddox finished singing he straightened up and clapped enthusiastically as he mockingly bowed.

"Your voice is amazing - even if you are hungover," he gushed.

A warmth feeling spread through his chest at the privilege of being able to listen to him - pretty much a stranger - alone in a broken elevator.

"I am now really hoping you get Blood Brothers too! And get the Narrator! I bet listening to you perform on stage would be even more amazing!"

He winced at the clapping, but carried on mock bowing.

"I'll let you know when it happens. If you get a theatre brochure in your mailbox, it's our theatre. The old one outside the old town." It was a little theatre, known for its English performances.

"Oh! I think I know which one you are on about."

He had never been there himself. The majority of his theatre watching experience stems from broadway and the Westend.

"Okay, but if I watch you, you will have to come and see me compete sometime," he joked.

"I'm always up for seeing cute men wearing skintight suits."

He didn't actually know what sport Ciro played, but the majority of sports involved skintight suits, so that was something he could look forward to.

Even though he felt colour grace his cheeks, he preened at Maddox's remark.

"Then you will definitely love watching me - and the skating competition as a whole," he quickly added on.

"Mmm, I'll definitely love watching you."

He wasn't one to pass up easy flirting. It was too much of an easy opportunity for his lazy ass to give up.

Ciro felt the heat spread from his cheeks to his ears.

"I would love you watch you perform," he fired back, then bit his lip.

The blush was now less for Maddox's comment and more for his own unoriginal one. He should have taken Sienna's offer on how to flirt better sooner.

Maddox chuckled.

"Soon," he promised. They'd probably be performing their new show in a couple of months.

He tipped his head back against the wall and let his eyes slide shut again. "Could just fall asleep right now."

Blush still apparent on his face his fine eyebrows drew into a frown.

He prodded Maddox's shoe with his trainer.

"Don't fall asleep. I don't want to be stuck in here and have no one to talk to."

Maddox grunted quietly.

"You know what? Fuck coffee. When we get out of here I'm going back to bed. Pugile can go fuck herself."

But he shifted so he wasn't so comfortable any more.

"What shall we do to pass the time?"

"Okay, so who is pugile and why can she go fuck herself?" he asked, curious. He came to the conclusion that Maddox lived by himself.

"And to answer your question, maybe we can play a game?"

"Pugile? She's my cat. Annoying son of a bitch, too." Really she was rather sweet, but he had no love for her when she woke him up the morning after a bender, at the ass crack of dawn, when he didn't have coffee in the house.

"Good idea. What game?"

"Oh, a cat."

He slumped a little, disappointment clear. Ciro liked cats. He thought they were pretty and nice to pet. But cat's never seemed to like him and his never ending ball of energy.

He hummed and pressed a finger against his lips as he tapped his shoes together.

"Eye-spy?"

"Yeah. She's ancient now, but shes still so feisty."

She was sixteen years old, and still tolerated his ass, even after all those years together.

"I spy something that's either you, me or a mirror. Next idea?"

"Spoil-sport," he huffed.

He tapped his shoes together again as he began to think again, lips pressing together the harder he thought.

With a sigh, he slumped back.

"The only games I can think of involve my phone."

He never had to entertain himself with just himself before. He normally always had the latest gadget and toy available to him.