A Return

She supposed it had to have been ten years since he died.

It had been eight total since Catherine (and Catherine only; Cat was for little girls, Cathy for old aunts) had been back to this city in the first place, but she'd remembered him sporadically through the years before her return. She wouldn't even be there for very long, either, just for a friend's baby shower. She thought it would be harder to stomach the place upon returning but, as it so often must, it seemed her heart had moved on.

Her wallet was another story. Some of her friends didn't necessarily understand why Catherine was so adamant about keeping him so close to her after nearly a decade after his murder, but that's because no one understood her quite as well as he did. He would have encouraged such mementos, even if he may have laughed about it once or twice, but ultimately he would --

No, she's probably romanticizing him, his memory. They were never together... like that. She supposed she regretted that truth a little.

It didn't take much convincing to avoid his and her usual bar from way back while out with a few girls the night after the shower. One of them suggested a place Catherine had never heard of - "--totally in an Alice mood after the new movie, you know?" - and there Catherine ordered the same thing she did at every bar, creature of habit that she was, and caught up with her lady friends with ease. There was more to miss in this city than him, she reminded herself.

Then, it was one of those times when all of the sudden a place got quieter, like someone had shushed a large number of people via a silent command. The sort of time where a friend would regard another and ask, "Whoa, did it just get really quiet just now?" Even if the moment didn't last, it was noticeable, and thus too was anything that filled the quiet space.

"Alucard? Isn't that a better name for Conrad?"

It was a soft, recognizable voice, deep and so smooth that Catherine's back straightened along with the hairs on the back of her neck upon hearing it.

"Yeah but Conrad is Conrad. Or, uh, Connie. Hell YOU could be Conrad, too, for all we know. He's like totally hogging a perfectly good name."

"... I really don't think so."

Catherine couldn't help but turn to look, her heart lodged in her throat even though it had supposedly moved on. And to be perfectly honest, seeing a fedora atop the stranger-in-question's head almost knocked her clear off her chair (she used to think he got a little ridiculous with those, even if he made it look good), but it was only the back view of the person. The little redhead he was with was so animated in comparison that it was hard for Catherine to keep her focus on the man she was trying to scope out.

"Yeah but Alucard is such a badass name, yanno?" continued the redhead - who by the way looked way too young to be nursing that mojito. "And if you're in a zombie rock band, you NEED a totally boss name like that."

"I think I'd prefer something simpler," said the other, and although he and the redhead continued to speak, the noise of the joint had long since picked up again, and the duo had already begun to move away from the bar itself to reclaim their seats elsewhere.

"Zombie rock band?" asked a friend of Catherine, bringing the woman's focus back to her own table. Sheepishly, the woman realized that her single-mindedness had become so apparent that a few of her friends caught on assumed she'd been checking them out or something - found entirely untrue once another of her friends caught a glimpse of the little redhead. Catherine's friend continued now that she saw she'd reclaimed attention, "That is so freaky. I thought people, like, grew out of that whole high school goth thing once they graduated... guess not."

While Catherine wasn't so sure of the answer, she did not bring her attention back to the two young men again, and left the bar some hours later having forgotten about it entirely.

Zombies, band or not, really weren't her thing.