Nihilistic Rage: Pre-Dating Show Jitters

Vernon finds a seat on one of the uncomfortably tall bar-style chairs on Silas’s countertop. Waiting for him to come out and read off what he had taken so long to write out. When Silas appears he’s come out in a black-on-black suit with gold jewelry; though it fits very well with his personality he looked like a douchebag. Vernon, being the gentleman he is, held his tongue for the time being. 

“This is stupid. I don’t know why you’re making me participate in a dating show.” Silas groans tugging at the tight restraint of his dress pants. 

“Cause I think havin’ a partner will do ya some good.” Vernon says, “Now start talkin’.” 

“Hey there,” It already sounded forced and unnatural. “I’m Silas Escrow. I’m technically 26 and I'm single.” Vernon laughs a little and shakes his head.

“Ya sound like I’m holdin’ a gun to yur head kid. Be natural.” He urges, “Go again.” Silas groans and shakes his head. 

“I’m Silas, I’m 26, and I’m from a future where we’ve reverted back to extreme classism. I was killed in a shoot-out and ended up alive due to some demon deciding to cop a squat in my body. How was that?” Silas grunts, taking a seat on his couch. Though he was coming off like a dick head, his fidgeting with his ring over and over told Vernon exactly what he needed to know. 

“You've had girlfriends before right?” The cowboy asks, looking at the poor kid. 

“Yeah, of course I have.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a few.”

“How’d you come off to them?” Vern climbs off the uncomfortable chair and stretches out his legs. “Ya obviously have a… a swagger about ya that people like, use that instead of whatever yur doin’ now.” Silas slumps further into the couch, hoping it swallows him whole. 

“I haven’t had a girlfriend since… since that upper city girl.” Silas seemed sadly reminiscent for a moment. Memories flashed over his brain as he thought about her. Part of him still loved her but they’d never work out. They’d never see eye to eye. “Dating just isn’t for me cowboy.” 

“I think yur bein’ dramatic.” Vernon walks over to the balcony window, the neons of Silas’s city sweeping over the clouds and fog of night. It glowed a familiar red color that could almost be compared to Silas’s eyes. “Be yourself. Try again.” Silas takes a deep breath and stares up at the ceiling.
“Sup, I’m Silas. I’m 26 and a half-demon. I enjoy fighting but don’t let that deter you. I’m also a vocalist, I used to lead a metal band before my unfortunate death.” He starts, seeming much more confident about what he was saying now. “I enjoy good food and I enjoy people I can talk with... Who’re down to earth… I can cook too. Contrary to how I look, I am a decent cook.” Vernon chuckles looking at how comfortable yet reluctant the kid is. 

“You’ll have the girls beggin’ at yur feet.” He smirks, rounding the couch he places two firm hands on his shoulders. “Now let’s get goin’.” Rubbing out his shoulders. “You’ve a datin’ show to participate in.” Though Silas gets to his feet he’s still rather stiff about all of this. He’d hate to disappoint the Nymph though. She was too kind for anyone and seeing her upset would piss off their band of misfits.