Park Bench (Prinxiety AU)

Chapter 17 - Virgil

November 9

     Roman got off work at 12, which left exactly one hour to get ready and be at the diner to meet my mom. My hands were shaking, and I jumped when I heard him knock on my bedroom door. He didn't wait for me to invite him in, which was good, because I doubt I could speak even if I tried. "There's my favourite emo," he said cheerily, walking past me and straight to my bed. He was wearing a light peach-coloured shirt with black pants. I watched as he silently stared at the outfit options I had laid out. After a moment, he just mumbled, "Well this is tragic." I rolled my eyes. On my bed was a black button-up, black t-shirt, purple t-shirt, and the cleanest-looking black jeans I owned.

     "I don't own nice clothes," I admitted. I felt suddenly guilty that I hadn't gone out to purchase something better to wear. He sighed, then smiled over at me.

     "May I take a look in your closet?" he asked. His innocent tone made me even more nervous, so I just shrugged and sat on the bed. He turned to the closet and threw its doors open. "I guarantee we can do better than that. It's lunch, not a funeral."

     "If you're looking for something with more colour, tough luck," I said. He flipped through numerous black (mostly band) shirts before landing on a grey knitted sweater. I felt sick just looking at it. It was something I bought for myself for going out with my ex. Conveniently, I bought it right before he stopped taking me on dates, so it was never actually worn.

     He pulled it out with a satisfied nod. Before I could protest, he tossed it at my face. "That with the jeans. Get changed and meet me in my car," he said, and I heard the door shut. I pulled the sweater off my head and let out a slow, shaky breath.

     I wanted to disappear into the covers of my bed and never emerge.

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     "Nope, no, take me home," I said when the diner came into view. Roman chuckled, but even he seemed a little jittery. We pulled into the parking lot.

     "You'll do fine," he assured, glancing at me with the most synthetic confidence I'd ever seen from him. "Plus, you've got a mighty prince to protect you!" That part was genuine. I allowed myself to smile, and we finally stepped out of the vehicle. The air was cold and full of tiny snowflakes, though it was too soon in their fall to actually cover the ground in any way. I wished I'd brought a jacket, but before I could even process that thought completely, we were inside.

     It was 60s themed, with checkered floors, bubblegum walls, and red and white booths that were brimming with families. I looked at Roman, who was looking at me, and for a moment we were in our own little bubble. It was like we were separate from the resonant chatter surrounding us. It was impossibly bizarre, but it still made me feel more at ease, even just a little. It was a fleeting moment, as I heard the tired-sounding voice of a middle-aged smoker calling my name. I winced and looked around.

     Sitting alone at a red table beside the bar, under a neon sign shining with the words DRIVE-IN, sat a 47-year-old woman with greying hair. She was dressed in ugly blue dress pants and an off-white blouse. I looked at Roman with pleading eyes, ready to beg him to pretend we didn't see her so we could just go home, but he placed his hand on my back and guided me forward. I knew that I couldn't resist without causing a scene.

     The table sat 4, so I sat across from her and Roman sat next to me. I tried to get comfortable on the weird, flat barstools that the table had. It was no use.

     There was a moment where none of us spoke. I looked from the table to her and then back to the table. A few more seconds passed, and as it grew more awkward, I gave in. "Hi, mom," I said, meeting her brown eyes. The last time I had seen them, they were burning with resentment. Now they were just dull, like the eyes of an old doll.