"It all starts with a fake invitation to a rather good production of Godspell, a lousy date with a secret homophobe, and a doomsday survivalist who gets far too involved in other people's business..."
---
She would like people to believe that she do...
No canary in a cage for me This canary's ready to fly free
And in the moonlight
Don't you think about him
Sister, you're much better off without him
For when he comes crawlin'
I'm not fallin'
- "Forget About The Boy", Thoroughly Modern Millie
______
"Shit, that's strong." The rum seemed to singe Robbie's throat on the way down; she winced at the burning sensation, took another gulp and slammed her tumbler down on the bar so hard that it threatened to spill over.
Hidgens chuckled, taking a sip of wine and placing the glass down - ever so gracefully - next to hers. "You're welcome."
"Yeah, sorry - I mean, thank you. It was really kind of you to get me a drink..." She took another quick gulp and grunted. "...But honestly, you shouldn't have. I'm fine."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I mean sure - it was a bit of a shock, and I- I've got some stuff to deal with now, but-- But honestly, it's really no big deal, so-"
"Robbie, you've accidentally downed your drink."
She looked down at the now-empty tumbler. "Oh yeah."
"Here." The professor took it from her and handed it gingerly to the bartender, beginning to mumble an instruction to him; Robbie couldn't hear him over the sound of her mind desperately, wildly attempting to digest her emotions.
For just over a couple of months now, she had desperately tried to get through Scott's hard, cold exterior. She'd thought she'd caught a glimmer or two of a sweet, softer soul within - usually, he would do something wrong, like stand her up, insult her in front of friends, make a scene in public... and then he would be so sweet afterwards that she forgave him immediately. He'd claim that he was just, "Really overwhelmed by all his feelings for her," or that she was "Actually really pretty," and her resistance would melt into an apology of her own.
Robbie glanced down at her phone.
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Now the the alcohol was beginning to course through her veins, the thought of Scott and his texts threatened to turn Robbie's stomach. Everything in her head clashed: she was pissed off at herself for missing the red flags, but still worried about her future with him. She was thankful for this stranger's intervention, but resented the fact that he'd pushed her so far outside of her usual routine of forgiveness.
The professor turned back around to her, and gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "Now listen: I'm sorry that I interrupted your date, especially seeing as I don't know you. It was pretty damn rude of me. I'm sure you're more than capable of defending yourself and the last thing I wanted to do was cause you trouble, but I heard you talk about your problems with men at the showcase, and I saw a bad situation, and I just couldn't let it happ--"
