east end of London, Bridget's apartment
It was probably safe to say that Severus had had no idea what his note to Varian would bring. He certianly hadn't expected to have his fears confirmed from the source itself. Almost three hours after he'd started the conversation, and he had been sitting here on the floor in Bridget's living room for nearly a half hour after the last message, head buried in his arms on the coffee table as everything that had been said between them ran through his head, over and over.
It was all well and good to be angry over what happened, and he had expected that. But what he hadn't expected was the overwhelming feeling of crushing sadness and hurt and disappointment he felt. Here he had been hoping that, for once in his life, he had been wrong about something, that his fears were unfounded - and then, not only did Varian tell him that he was right, but the man had then proceeded to try and make him think it was his fault it had happened in the first place.
He couldn't even cry over it anymore. Numbly, Severus slowly pushed himself up to stand, shuffling towards the bathroom and tiredly rubbing a hand over his face. How the hell was he supposed to ever make this work now? How could he ever face Varian again, even just for the band? Things were so different now. Everything had changed with that one little thing Varian had let slip. And Severus had no idea how to deal with it. urning on the light in the bathroom, he closed the door softly and then leaned over the sink with a small sigh, hands gripping at the countertop before he finally raised his eyes to look at his reflection. For a moment, he almost didn't recognize himself, and it confused him - leaning closer to the mirror, Severus studied his reflection intently, trying to figure out what was wrong. It wasn't overly noticeable, but finally he realized what was different.
Before, even through everything he'd been through, there had still been some tiny shred of innocence, or naivety, still apparent in his expression. Even with everything he had learned, he'd still stubbornly held onto a shred of hope. Now... now it was gone. That hope had been replaced with the awful knowledge that he truly was alone. Whatever he wanted, he'd have to trust only himself for it. Corinna was still in danger, and he didn't dare help her out any more than he could. Frank was angry with him for the trouble he was in with his superiors in the Ministry - and Severus didn't blame him for that, though he still didn't like it. He had virtually NO pull as a Death Eater, merely because of his association with Varian and because he was positive the others all saw him as a joke. And now, even his confidence in his musical ability was faltering.
Expression screwing up as if he were going to cry, Severus regarded himself and found himself whispering harshly, "I will not fade into the background anymore."
He was tired of being taken for granted. Tired of being treated like a joke. Tired of being treated like he wasn't good enough simply because of who he was and what he did. He would show them all that he was intelligent, that he was talented, and most importantly, that he was useful in his own right. He would show them that he could go for what he wanted and get it.
But first... A furious determination filled him, and he pushed away from the counter, walking into the kitchen and retrieving a pair of scissors from one of the drawers. He returned to the bathroom, taking a long look in the mirror before taking a deep breath, shaking his hair out in front of his face and squeezing his eyes shut. Only one thought filled his mind as he took a hold of the limp strands hanging in front of his face, and made the first cut - 'You all wanted to hold me down, but you didn't think I'd get back up. None of you will recognize me after this - I won't even recognize myself."