"Why thank you, sir." Felicia raised her own glass to him, hand wobbling a little. "Seems we both’ve had a bit to drink. Then again, we’re in a bar."
The nausea had pretty much gone at that point. “This rooftop? Why?” She would’ve picked a building like the Rockefeller, where the whole city.
"Right now, ve are above broadvay." He said smiling. "Und if you look very closely. Right zhere." HE said looking out over the side of the building pointing. "You can see zhe statue of George M. Cohan." This had been one of Kurt’s favorite spots ever since he found it. You could see al the theatre’s from this roof. Several of the entrances. And many ouf the theatre-goers. He had always wanted to see his name in the signage and a couple of times he had. There was a production of Faustus before he had died which he had played Mephistopheles. I know one zhing I smelled better zhan zhe real Mephisto… He grinned looking out over the hubbub below. “Zhat ist vhy zhis building fraulein.” He looked down and saw several people cramming their selves into one building, seemingly wearied by their days, and out of another came faces filled with smiles, or tears or some mixture.