before the dawn [c]

Dark sunglasses concealed his face, protected his hangover-ridden head from the sunlight. He had asked for a spot in the shade and a strong black coffee. Nobody seemed to have noticed him, and he liked the solitude. Cigarettes, coffee, the salt of the sea carried in a warm breeze. It was home.

For a minute, he thought he could forget all that weighed on his mind as of late. The bruising had faded, but there was still a nervousness, a twitching in the fingers that clasped his cigarette, a tension in his lips.

The voice was grating but unmistakable, and every other problem rushed back to the front of his mind at the sight of Kyra. He groaned. "What are you doing here?" He hissed, glancing around and gesturing to the seat across from him. He didn't want to make a scene, but that was what Kyra was all about, and playing along with her had worn thin long ago.

@kyra

There were plenty of things to say about Salem Bauer, but you couldn't call him fake. He didn't bother with fronts, he never pretended to be a good guy, he never pretended to like people. Especially not Kyra. He had a right to be standoffish anyways, she was his ex. The whole thing had been star-studded and explosive, and had ended just as loudly and messily as it had begun.

He leaned back and surveyed Kyra as he took a slow drag. She looked good, as she always did. They had looked fucking great together. "Yeah, work getting busy?" He said flatly. It was almost as much of a jab at himself as it was to her. Admitting he cared enough to keep track of what Kyra had been doing. Or rather, not doing. It wasn't as if he thought of her ceaselessly, only on particular kind of nights that were drunk and lonely.

Salem twisted in his seat slightly to look around. Somehow, this would end up in the tabloids. They were back together, they'd been meeting in secret for months now. With a sigh, he combed a hand through his hair.

@kyra

Everything about Kyra that had once been endearing and sexy was infuriating. She was flawless and captivating as ever, but now it made him uneasy, the same way that stardom as a whole did these days.

She was a starlet through and through, drawn to the spotlight like a moth to a flame. He thought of Lance, who had walked away from it, and he wondered where he fell among them. In some ways he'd run from fame, but he still reaped its benefits, the riches that had bought him his penthouse and paid for his food and drinks and smokes.

At the question, his lips twitched into a smile for a moment. An amused, mocking one. "I grew up here." Salem reminded her.

The media probablu had plenty to say of his sudden return home, but Kyra was on the outside now, and he would stick to his guns. He was visiting his home town, simple as that, no matter who believed him.

@kyra

He shrugged, looking disinterested - hot chicks were a dime a dozen to him, why was it hard to look away now? His gaze flickered away then found its way back. Kyra wouldn't let herself be ignored anyways, and Salem gave her a flat sort of scrutiny for a few moments. He sipped coffee through gritted teeth.

With a quirked brow, he straightened a little and leaned in, gave her a small smile. "You're always on the record. Don't bullshit me - what are you doing here?" They were close, Salem's voice was low. He was bristling like a territorial beast, he had claim to Nova Athenis, she didn't.

@kyra