A year later [AU]

The cat might've left him, but he did think about him once in a while. It wasn't like he was heartless, and frankly when he felt down he thought about Gaspar. What he was doing, how he was holding up.
He was still working at the gas station, getting him petty cash to pay for his art supplies as well as his small apartment. The night had been slow, so he was actually finished with all of his tasks, standing by the counter, looking at his latest messages. He had been seeing this guy, but he was flakey and barely showed up when they had plans. The unfamiliar yet familiar voice made him blink, looking up as he saw Gaspar. Or well, he looked convincingly like him, though he had gotten a bit more meat on him since being a starved alley cat. "Never heard of a smoking cat before," he said, not sure if he even knew who he was talking to. He grabbed a packet of cigarettes, scanning it along with the bottle that he turned slowly to look at. "Nor drinking alcohol," he chuckled. He felt a little sad now, and he wasn't sure why.

Gaspar did recognize him the moment he saw him. It was like his moments spent as a cat still lived in his head now that he hadnt gotten to change back for what seemed forever. "Is not for me." he said with a sigh, but he probably wouldnt say no if he was offered one. The bottle of alcohol was however a different story. "Cats makes tricks when shown a nice treat." was just his argument for the alcohol and the cigarettes in the end. Though his words were jumbling around, he seemed to have picked up the same speed as any other person speaking. He pulled a few bills from his pockets, though he didnt know how to do math, so he just put it on the counter and grabbed the items, not knowing whether it was way too much or way too little. "Thanks bye." was the only words he didnt seem to have trouble saying.

Vinnie frowned. Why was he so distant? Looking down at the money it made even less sense. Why was he not waiting to get change for the notes he had just put down? "Hey, wait up," he said, exchanging and getting his change that he went around the disk to hand to the other guy. He looked at him, rather worried as he looked like he was in bad shape. "How about dinner? My treat?" he suggested, hoping that he wouldn't just get flat out denied. "I'll make my famous salmon?" he smiled, hoping that would persuade him well enough to get him to hang around for a bit. Vinnie was deep down a rather lonely guy. Things had been rocky for him as of late, and he wanted to talk or at least be around someone familiar instead of strangers. And Mickey weren't answering his calls either. It was strange how one could feel so lonely in a city this big.

When Vinnie told him to wait he did, looking down at the change that he was handed. He didnt really know what to do with it so he just dumped it into his back pocket for now. The suggestion made him narrow his yellow eyes a little suspiciously, clearly considering it as he gave him a good look, like he was trying to analyze the situation. But then he just ended up nodding in agreement. "Okay." he said rather calmly. "I have to make stop on the way." he said. "When you done?"

The fact that he was actually agreeing did take him a bit by surprise, but alas, he had been the one to suggest this. "Yeah, sure," he nodded, not minding a brief stop if he needed to get something. Looking at the watch over the disk he sighed, "About ten minutes or so?" he said, it wasn't too bad and he was mostly done with everything anyways. Who would care if he closed shop a little earlier. Nobody ever came this late anyways!
He went back to the register, fixing it and cleaning off the grill for the night, turning it off and making sure everything was in order. It didn't take him long, mostly because he did this pretty much nightly. He went out back to change out of the uniform polo, pulling a hoodie over his head and messing up his peach colored hair. "Aight, just gotta lock the store," he smiled having checked the doors and everything. Once they were outside he turned off the lights, locking the door and pressing the code for the alarm. "Show the way," he said, carrying his skateboard in one hand.

Vinnie followed him, declining the sip of the wine, instead he just walked silently, not saying much. Well that was until they got to the graveyard. What were they doing here? He wasn't scared of death, but he wasn't thrilled with being in a place for the dead after hours that was for sure. As Gaspar stopped, he almost barged in to him, but managed to stop himself. Turning his head he saw the tombstone and a frown appeared on his brow. A girl. Not very old, if he had done the math right. A small figure of a cat was placed on the ground next to it and he wondered if this was perhaps Gaspars owner? But then again he didn't feel it was appropriate to ask.
Watching as the other sat up the cigarette and wine that he took a swig of as well, he just watched the lonesome cigarette. It was burning slowly, almost like a strange candle. "Rosemarie ... Pretty name," he just said, placing his skateboard down as he reached over to dust off the small figure of the cat. He didn't really know what to say. "Were you close?" maybe that was stupid to ask, because she obviously meant something to him if he was doing all of this.

It was painfully obvious, especially as he heard the sniffling. Vincent had a strange feeling in his gut as if he should know who this was, but there was no picture. Then Gaspar mentioned feeling stupid for not being able to read what it said. He frowned, shaking his head, "you want me to read it to you?" he asked. If he didn't he would simply remain quiet, taking another sip of the bottle, however if he nodded or indicated that he did want to hear he would clear his throat a little.
"Rosemarie Burton. Born 2006, died 2023," he had to swallow that sentence before continuing. Seventeen? He got shivers just thinking about that. "Misunderstood, misguided, missed." What an odd way to phrase a tombstone. Most had small stories written on it or even a passage from a book. Hers seemed bleak and the last word almost tossed in at the last minute because it was supposed to be a mourning site. "It doesn't say how she died," he said, looking down to the cigarette. But when they were this young it could be anything from a car crash or maybe something more sinister.
"I think I remember reading about her in the papers though ... Might still have it back at my place if you want me to find it?" he suggested.

His description stood out to him, but he wouldn't be able to put two and two together until he saw a picture of her. The name was odd enough for him to remember, but faces was another thing. Letting him sit there for a while, he was just silent, watching as the cigarette died out and the guy next to him got up. He got up as well, shaking his arms a little to get some heat in to his limbs. He placed a soft hand on his shoulder, tapping it lightly as if to console him, but he wasn't really one for giving out wise words.
Instead he lead them out the graveyard and down the streets until they reached his living area. The apartment itself hadn't changed much in a year, well besides a new carpet and a few new pillows. He dropped his stuff by the door, kicking his shoes off and heading towards the little kitchen. Opening the fridge he took out some drinks for them, walking over to place them on the coffee table before starting to rummage through the small pile of newspapers he had going on by the heater.
Eventually he found it, the one with the right date that matched what had been on the tombstone. Flipping through until he got to the death adverts he frowned as he looked through them until a familiar face made him stop. That girl. Reading the name he frowned, moving over to sit down in the couch. His heart felt heavy. "She, uh, she used to come in to the shop and try and buy cigarettes all the time," he muttered as if he was remembering it all. Had she really been taking care of Gaspar all this time? "And like you said she always had a new bruise ... I guess her home life wasn't too good," placing the newspaper on the table he let Gaspar see the picture they had posted of her in it. It barely looked like the girl you would see out and about. "It says that police are still unsure of how she died, so who knows what really happened," he shrugged, rubbing his face a little as this was way heavier than he expected it would be.

Vinnie hadn't known her, but from what Gaspar explained, she sounded lonely if she was seeking out alley cats and strays like that. The way he spoke reminded him a bit of a toddler at times, perhaps because it was so simple phrases. But then again, he had lived most of his life as a cat. Giving the picture one last look he sighed as the other complained about hunger. "Alright, I'll cook us something ... But it won't be anything fancy," though he did have salmon in his fridge. He didn't know why, but ever since Gaspar had left, he had kept a piece or two saved, just in case. And it came in handy right now.
Cooking took little time, especially when Vinnie had made it so many times. He served it up with some rice too, though he didn't add that much to Gaspar's plate. Instead he cut his salmon in half, placing one half extra on his plate. Handing it to the other guy, he sat down in the couch, eating silently. The heaviness from the graveyard had followed him, and he kept replaying the times she had come in to the shop.

Vinnie made sure to clean up after himself, and once that was finished he went back to the couch, sitting down and leaning back in his seat, holding a beer in one hand, lifting it to take a sip. That was when the other guy approached him, looking down to the hand unzipping the hoodie, he frowned before looking back up at those yellow eyes. What he wanted? He was confused. What was going on? But then he started pulling up on his shirt and Vinnie shook his head no, getting up from his seat, "what are you doing?" he could feel his heart in his throat. This felt wrong on so many levels. Did Gaspar think this was why he had been invited here?

He sounded so confused that Vinnie wasn't just jumping on the chance right away, but he stood his ground. No, this was too weird. "I didn't expect you to do this ... All I did was give you a meal," he assured him. There was really no need to pay him back, "you don't have to offer me anything, you're a friend," was that something he could understand? Vinnie felt so confused, and he even ended up reaching out to pull down the other guy's shirt just to reassure him.

What a silly question. Of course he liked him! But even saying that might show an interest that Vinnie wasn't comfortable showing just yet. "Hey bud, you don't need to pay me back, alright, it's payback enough that I got to see you again," he assured him. He wasn't trying to push him away, but rather he wanted him to understand that this wasn't how things worked with him. "Friends don't ask for payback ... Friends do things for each other because they want to, not because they need to," was that too abstract of a subject?

Vinnie sat down once more, at least when he thought the guy wouldn't just jump him and force himself on him. "Bad things happen to everyone," he said, having understood the muffled mumble somehow. Maybe he was just used to trying to understand him by now that his ears knew what sounds to look for. "But good things happen too ... Like I got to see you again, right?" he smiled, looking down as the picked a bit at some loose skin by his thumb. A bad habit he had. "I get a feeling you've done this before," more of an open-ended question for Gaspar to share if he so wished it.

Vinnie sighed, hearing this story was a lot to take in, but alas he also knew the world outside these walls weren't always kind. "With me you never have to do anything you don't want to deep down," he said, sending him a sad smile. He reached over, pulling out a small cat toy from the couch, one that he had gotten for the cat version of Gaspar. The cat had hated it at first, but soon found it was a fun way to pass time when Vinnie was out of the apartment. "I didn't think a moment have gone by where I haven't missed you," he said, almost as if he felt sentimental. But the reminder of that poor girl dead made him realize he needed to say whatever he could in the moment. "Of course I was shocked at first, I mean, who expects the stray cat to turn in to a human just like that - But when you were gone this place just felt more lonely," he said, looking around, holding the toy in his hand.