[She glances up wishing she had more to hide behind -- like maybe a computer screen and a username. That'd be great. She can't understand that kind of thinking at all, even if he's right that it's something she's heard before. That only makes it worse...but he's also right, she realizes, looking back down at the table. They're meeting over food. It played a huge role in connecting people, no matter how Ryder couldn't stop thinking about always eating alone at school or spending Thanksgivings with only her mom in whatever restaurants were open and serving noodles. The disconnect must be with her. ...Well, that's not actually a surprise.
Her hands curl into fists that she moves to her lap and she shakes her head.]
...L-live o-ou -- out. Mmmicrowave.
[Her thought process stops there, without the consideration of him asking about her in general. She's...not interesting. She's not something to talk about or learn about. That's why she eats cheap frozen meals alone watching people stream video games almost every night, instead of being in her element here. Thankfully, this guy seems confident, even if some parts of him didn't read as fitting, either.
.......Oh, she just thinks he's reassuring with his really nice smile, and thus doesn't belong in this place that makes her uncomfortable. Hm. Curses.]
[He winces, a gesture that's half playing (but only half).]
The college student diet then.
[Microwaves were useful but rarely made for good meals. He remembers his mother's overuse of it.
Ryder didn't catch what he truly meant, but he decides not to pedal back just yet. That would only embarrass or fluster her.]
So was this place a step out of your comfort zone or do you usually take to these kinds of restaurants when you want to give the microwave a break?
[He kind of suspects the former. Maybe she wanted to really make the evening into something special. Maybe she was trying to impress someone-- that happened, once or twice. He hopes that it wasn't done to impress him, even if it is, in fact, impressive.]
[Even without him correcting her, Ryder seems to shrink in her seat, fighting to keep her nervous energy under control before she does something as mortifying as burst into song just to get it out. When he rolls into his question, she winces a little and glances up before fully hearing it.]
What?
[Um. Oh. Oh. Somehow, she deflates even more. She doesn't fit in. She knows it, he knows it, everyone at nearby tables knows it, god she wouldn't be surprised if it got printed in the news tomorrow, and fuck her, because more people than you'd think still read paper news.]
I-I... I just -- thought... [Well. Shit. If she tries to say anything more, she's either going to snap at him or stutter until she's embarrassed into crying. Guess she's done with that sentence.]
[Oh. God. He is so fired. He is going to be fired. This is going terribly.
He can't be too shocked on his own behalf. He was bound to fuck up sooner or later. It's what he does. It's what he always seems to do. But, he feels tremendously shitty for her. He's ruining her whole night. She probably expected to be swept off her feet by a real pro and instead, she got stuck with him.
He laughs faintly, helplessly, nervously.]
I'm... so sorry.
[Professional escorts are not supposed to apologize, a voice in his head hisses. Well! Surprise. He's no pro. He looks down at the table.]
That sounded like a jab, didn't it? I swear I didn't mean it like that. It's a nice place. Really cool. I hope you'll enjoy it too.
[They sit there, mutually mortified. He hastens to fix things, but the words sound fake. Pitying. Mocking. Ryder doesn't realize how withdrawn her body language has become until a sharp pain makes her realize that she's split her nail a little too far down for comfort with her teeth. Shit, it's bleeding... Not enough to matter, but it's just another thing to make this the best night ever. She tucks her thumb inside her fist and wraps her arms around herself.]
Nn --
["No" what? Just what is she protesting or disagreeing with? That he doesn't hope she enjoys it? He'd have to really hate her already, if he didn't want that much. But...maybe he's decided that it isn't worth it.]
Ss... S -- fuck.
[She'd say it until it proved she was capable of not stumbling over every fucking word, but someone would notice, and it'd be another person looking at her and wishing she'd vanish the same way her voice did. Fuck, her thumb hurts. Who allowed such little, nothing injuries to sting so bad?]
...Y-you don't -- hav-have -- to --
[The words stick again, possibly clinging to her tonsils for dear life, because it was a cruel world out there, please please let them stay at home. Ryder gives into the imaginary plea to instead grab her glass and quickly down the rest of it. Oof, it was sweet and all, as far as things go, but still not a good move. Just...work!]
I won't m-mma -- mmm-m. M-motherfucker. Make y-you, um. Um. ...Talk. To me, anymore. God, shit. [Don't CRY, you bitch! You've made this awkward enough! Exhale. Not sure when the inhale happened, but exhale. Phew. Good, doing good. Just another sentence...maybe. She hopes it's just a sentence. That'll take long enough as it is.] If you'll -- you -- you could just, um. W- Ugh, w-when he comes back. Order? I won't -- We can just eat. Y-you know?
[They might as well get a meal out of this.]
I should've -- I should've known -- better. Sssorry.
[It sounds like it's going to be a 'no' and that's all he needs to wince. Which, of course, he's also not supposed to do. Stupid, stupid, why did he think he could do this job?
She stumbles over her words and it drags out the moment of waiting for her judgement. He fights to keep his cool, keep up the facade, for Christ's sake, she's paying for this.
He doesn't have to? What, apologize? That can't be right. He doesn't laugh at her cursing this time, his brows knotted. And then, just like that, confusion and surprise wipe his face clean. He blinks.]
Talk? [He repeats, like a fucking idiot.] I don't have a problem with talking to you. It's fine. You're fine. This is your night, right? It would suck if we didn't talk. [Don't say suck, you're an escort.] Unless you'd prefer it from me.
[He takes a slow breath, the smiles, small and encouraging.]
Just... if you're not having a good time, you can always let me know and I'll fix it. [Or at least set her up with a better date and give her her money back.]
[As much as she wants to never look at another human being ever again, his answer surprises her enough that her head jerks back up, leaving her to stare dumbly for several seconds. Here she goes, struggling to speak for a different reason. It sounds...too blunt and unprofessional to be fake. That means -- it must be genuine? But that's stupid. He must be stupid. Ryder realizes her mouth is hanging open and promptly shuts it, teeth clicking. She might as well not look like a total dumbass while she's trying to come up with words that fit her feelings, but didn't shove him away entirely.
She glances away, starting to chew her lip. Think, think. What...do you possibly say to someone that doesn't have a problem talking to you? She wants to dig out her pen, but the napkins here are cloth. She wonders if it's for money reasons, or for the environment. It also looks fancier, even though it means they're reusable, so really it's a win-win-win... One has to wonder about the water bill, though. How much does laundry add to that sort of thing? ...Does she have any quarters left? This isn't a top she wears, obviously, so she hadn't been pressed about getting her laundry done before all this, but she should probably do it when she got back. Not have that stress hanging over her anymore. Find a way to relax from this disaster as soon as possible.
Oh. Oh, fuck. She's still in the middle of the disaster.]
-- Um! Um.
[Stupid, stupid, stupid.]
Give -- m-me a -- um.
[Oh god, the employee is coming back again. Ryder nearly chokes on her tongue in the wave of panic, and while she recovers from coughing, she shoots Teo a desperate look to take care of it. That is the thing he has to fix, because the rest is all on her end, she's pretty sure. Might as well, uh, nudge her glass in the waiter's direction, as well. Earn a third or fourth reason to be red in the face, why not?
It would suck if they didn't talk? ...Just for her, because it was her night? Or for him, too? He was willing to continue in silence. Flexible. Of course they'd want to be flexible -- but he only suggested it after reassuring her. He could have taken the easy out she gave him, shrugging it off as something she asked for in the first place. He kept doing...all these little things to try and get her to feel more comfortable, even though she should be driving him nuts. Why isn't she driving him nuts? If...nothing else, it's worth trying to figure that out, right?
Once she's sure it's just the two of them again, Ryder drags herself out kicking and screaming in an attempt to harness that shrieking for good.]
...I'm nnnot. Good at this. I thought -- maybe. Um. [Wow, there's no good way to put "I found a way to hold someone hostage just for conversation". She falls into a weak mumble, not daring to look up.] You -- y-you don't...mind? Really? Or --
[Oh, he's definitely stupid. That is without a doubt. He doesn't think she is, though he can tell that he's thrown her off one way or another. The longer the quiet lasts the more anxious he gets, which is not what she needs, she needs him to chill out. He gives her the requested minutes.
What is wrong with him? He didn't blunder his other service dates this badly. He blundered his normal life this badly. He blundered second or third dates or important requests or being there when something else crops up and--
She's coughing. Is she okay? Oh god, is she choking? Wait. No. Oh. She wants something. She wants... oh!
He quickly lists off an order to the waiter, as well as a request for refilling glasses. He's quick and to the point, because he knows well this guy's going to be way busier than he's allowed to admit. Plus it gets him out of here and when she speaks up again, he's immediately relieved.]
I really don't. Even if I'm not all sure which part of "this" you mean.
[He flashes a sheepish half-grin.]
But, whatever you mean, it's not a contest. Just be how you want.
[Just be how she wants...? Right now she wants to be dead. He probably doesn't mean that, with that awkward crook to his smile. It was so -- genuine. Something that reaches out to the words she wants to say but never can. Man, she'd love to scrape a knife across a plate and make that really horrible screech that made your fillings hurt, right about now.]
Nnn... [Ryder fumbles through a few more noises that are abandoned, probably not as quickly as she would like, if she had any idea what the fuck was happening in the world around her. You know, maybe this is a nightmare. That would make sense. She shudders out an exhale and another cough before moving her arms to hug herself tightly. A little better...] ...Talking. Be -- bei -- be -- being a -- a person.
[What is she, a fucking alien? Ry, you useless dumbass!]
[Well. That relief is gone. There's only one small bit of relief in its place that the waiter is off and away, but it's not enough to overcome that sudden cold, cold feeling that hits him then. She didn't have to scrape a knife across a plate. She's managed the same effect just by words.
Being a person. Nobody wants to be around because... he's never really here, not real, not right, not enough, always less.
He stares at her, bewildered, a little afraid. Some irrational part of him is wondering if he got set up, if this is a play on him, some kind of revenge for... he doesn't know, just being an awful person all his life? Because he deserves it. He's seconds from that panic attack when rationality kicks in to remind him that not only would no one go to such an effort, but he signed on for this job and she's the one having a shitty time.
God. He really, really, really owes her that refund. He shakes his head.]
Jeez, sorry... Uh... The talking is fine. It's cool. Really. You don't have to worry about that. Just, you know, take your time and stuff. Um...
[Breathe, Teo.]
I... get the feeling, [Don't say that.] but you seem person enough from where I'm sitting. Maybe we haven't hit off too great yet, but... I'm definitely willing to get to know you. If that's what you want.
[She fucked this up. She thought she did before, but this was what fucking up was, actually. Ryder thought that if she was prepared, and guarded, and bitter, then it wouldn't hurt so much when he pulled away from the truth. Here she is, surprised to find that her heart being out there has gotten it pierced through. Fuck. She needs to leave.
...Except -- ]
What.
[Thats not how he's supposed to react. Even if he's a professional! Being good at his job wasn't enough to combat how deeply weird she was making this, and he should be at his weirdo limit. Like, even if he was used to people asking him to lick the bottom of their shoes or something -- that was within the realm of possibility! This? How could he be adapting to it when she's only making it worse?
After letting her gaze slide down from him, she cautiously reaches for her glass again to have something to do. Maybe she can swallow her nerves along with the wine -- at least some of them. Please?]
...Yeah. [Yes. For fuck's sake, yes, holy shit, YES! She wants that so badly that she feels it clawing through her innards, uncomfortable and desperate.] Ssorry, um.
[Her fingers are shaking. Stop that. Maybe she actually got rid of any intelligent thought instead of her nerves, because all of a sudden, her brain is sending a signal to her mouth that she did not approve of in the slightest. Wouldn't it be nice if she could repair her filter so that it was no longer saying anything that came to mind like someone carelessly picking a lottery ball from its randomizer cage, or full silence. No inbetween.]
[He nearly bites his lip, but that, too, is something escorts aren't supposed to do. At least not in a nervous sort of way. He should be fired. He should be so fired.
But, at least it seems he can salvage her night, if not his job. His smile returns, faint, but warming. Getting to know each other. He can do that.
Her comment on his nails catches him by surprise and then makes him laugh. He gives his head a shake and lets his fingers tap along the top of the table.]
Nah. Job's got a dress code, believe it or not. But I like to see what I can get away with. Most of the time, it's just this.
[He puts his hands back down.]
I like your haircut. Is it more rebellious or... chic?
[She takes a swig from her glass to hide the fact that his laugh almost instinctually has her swallowing hard again. She's...adjusting, though. For some reason, he's being kind to her, and the laugh is something she's reminding herself to appreciate. A happy sound. A good sound. A good sound that paves the way for words that are slowly bringing her more out of her withdrawn state.
Instinctually, she puts her hand into her longer bangs and turns red. Were those the only options? Either of them would be embarrassing to say... She isn't aware enough of herself to keep away the deep frown.]
...Hnh. ...Jus-just -- like it. I-I'unno. Um, y-you don't...have to compliment me, or -- whatever.
I'm not- I'm not just saying it. It's cool. I just wanted to see if I was speaking to a... secret fellow punk, without making you feel bad about your hair if you're not into that.
[So, the whole Acting Like An Escort is out the window then. He really screwed this one. He is not looking forward to that call with the service. Of course, he's also got to tell her that he's going to try and get the fee waived, but better to tell her later, or at the least, after they've left the restaurant so he doesn't embarrass her (even more) in public.]
[The swing didn't miss! It was just more of a...glancing blow, thanks to defenses that were much too...defensive. Ryder hesitantly lets the wall lower a little at his explanation, even though it makes her blush even deeper.]
O-oh. Um.
[That's a good...thing. Good thing to say and good reason to say it, she thinks. With a slow exhale, she combs her hair down over her eye a few times before glancing up.]
Yeah. I dunno. I -- guess. Like, u-um, punk lite. [But she doesn't think she'd pass the test, so there's no reason to get his hopes up. What's the criteria for being punk, anyway? Should she ask? No -- that will just make her look stupid. ...Stupider.] S-sss... Neither of us. F-fit here...then?
[Oops. But it is kind of a relief. Teo had seemed like the food would be good regardless of that, too, so maybe it would be okay despite that, and the possibility makes more of the tension in Ryder's shoulder leave.]
I w -- w-was worried. Um. It was hhhhard to f-f-find. A t -- a top that w-would cover m-my tattoos, but not -- n-not, um, make me fffeel -- feel weird.
With that same smile, he shakes his head. Nope, he doesn't fit here at all. Maybe his other sort of work-- the cooking kind-- but he, himself? Not a chance.
His eyes brighten further at the mention of tattoos. He nearly asks to see, but there's no way not to make that awkward. Instead, he lifts an arm up onto the table and ever so slightly pulls the cuff of his sleeve up. There's definitely ink under there. He hides it away, but his arms stay on the table now for him to lean forward.]
I'll tell you my secret. I'm always feeling weird.
[Oh! Him, too! Ryder may not get to inspect his -- and she'd hesitate to show him hers right now in return, so that's fair -- but she's still happy to be able to mentally point and cheer same hat! What he says next is more same hat than ever, and even though she diverts her gaze to her lap, there isn't the same hurt or panic in her eyes as before. She's just her normal level of shy.]
O-kay, Hulk. [Ryder gives a small nod of agreement, before sipping at her wine. Hmm. She's never seen those movies. Well -- she'd seen the Spider-Man ones because that dude had killed his lip sync performance of Umbrella by strutting his stuff, so he deserved the attention. That line was something said to Cap, right? Probably Captain America. She's pretty sure.
...Oh, right.] G-good at -- pretending otherw-wise. To me, at least...
[She can't help it -- he gets a scoff of laughter, finally, though it sort of sounds like a harsh dismissal, coming from her.]
Don't quote 'im, th-then.
[...Yeah, the kimono sure had been parted pretty damn far, this time. The bungling was all on her, though. Taking what he's said and thinking way too much on it, when all he's trying to do is offer her a nice, normal experience. It really is too bad she couldn't fit the role he'd prepared for her. She can't believe she ever thought she was ready. Even with the safety net of the other person getting paid for their time, she was too scared to start climbing up that social hill. Yep, that's right. Not even a mountain. A fucking hill.]
Not y'r fault... Um. I -- [Was this stupid? Did it even work like this?] Is, um. W-w... Would th-they do -- take out boxes rrrright aw-way? No plates. We could -- we could, um. Somewhere else. With th'food.
[But it's a totally fair ribbing, so he'll accept it. He hums in thought at her question and takes a dubious glance around the restaurant. His expression turns to something of a wince.]
...Well... If this were any kind of Asian cuisine, even the 5 stars do takeaway, but... given that it's not... I'd say you're looking at a one-in-forty chance. [He forces a tentative half smile that's not all escort worthy.] Might be worth a shot?
[Ryder hums and tips her head, glancing through the screen of her hair like she's looking for a spy keeping sights on their table exactly for this purpose.]
...They w-w-w-wouldn't let -- people get a b -- a box? For leftovers? It's just -- l-like that, isn't it...?
[Just...taken extremely early. No restaurant would deny leftovers, right? They would still get the money, and then they could turn the table around faster and get someone else in! Only good things.]
Some top chefs get... weird... Pay for the experience or keep people who didn't show up from trying or... finding out recipes...
[Weird things. Egotistical things. He'd hope he never gets to that point but he sincerely doubts he ever will. He is not 5-star material, dream as he might.
He gets her suggestion nevertheless and nods.]
Maybe act nervous. Just in case. [He lifts a hand and waves over the waiter. It takes a minute, then Teo plasters on a worried look himself, though it's really not that hard to fake.]
Hi, I'm sorry, we just-- we got an emergency? We need to go right away! Is there anything the chef can do for, ah, a takeaway? Please?
[The waiter, looks torn between sympathy and convulsing in protest. Teo pries him a bit more, laying it on as thick as he can, and the waiter finally leaves them. The only thing that stops him from flashing a thumbs up is his worry that he'll get the both thrown out and with nothing to show for it, and so he watches the waiter as he disappears into the kitchen, the proceeds to watch the kitchen with baited breath. He lets it out in one hefty exhale as the man and a second waitress return with stamped and tied boxes resembling birthday gifts done up in high end shops. A third waiter brings the tab.]
Thank you so much- [He continues to press. And he hopes that Ryder can handle the tab part at least-- one thing about his job was that it wasn't his job to pay for things through the night and so he didn't tend to bring money. He can, at least, start piling the boxes on her behalf to carry out of the restaurant. With any luck, they can be making their getaway straight out those doors...]
[Act nervous? Act??? She looks genuinely flabbergasted at that, but it switches easily to anxious concern as she turns to see where Teo is waving to, then quickly switches to looking at -- oh! Her phone! Yeah, they had to have a reason for suddenly having an emergency, so Ryder quickly brings it out and switches to her texts. Mom will help.
spam me about an emergency
It doesn't take long at all for new messages to start appearing, phone softly buzzing with each one. ...It may not be the first time Ryder has relied on this particular ruse -- and as long as she didn't call, her mom knew that she was inconvenienced more than actually needing the safety of someone talking to her. It's a good system.
Lip thoroughly chewed, but the tough part apparently taken care of, Ryder looks up with wide eyes that now have a touch of genuine gratitude in them in addition to her worry. Only -- ugh, fuck, stupid credit cards! Okay, well, while that's being rushed, she might as well quickly down the rest of her glass. Come on, come on...! Funnily enough, it really is starting to feel like an emergency, but on top of the need to run away and hide under a rock, there's the quietest whisper of a thought that, oh, this is kind of fun?]
Th-th -- So sorry! [Thank god, here's her card again. No time for math, so she errs on the upper end when it comes to the tip, even though her bank account was going to weep. Better than returning their accommodations with something insultingly low. God, she hopes that wasn't somehow too low? Oh fuck, now she's doubting herself, but it's time to squirrel her card and phone away again and power walk towards the door.
Outside, her shoulders drop and a shaky exhale wheezes out of her, followed by a weak, mortified giggle. He did it. He hit them out of there. Oh, right --
thanks love you
She'll have to explain it later, which means she'll have to think of some other cover because like fuck is she telling her fucking mom she hired an escort and was a complete and total loser about it, but that's a future Ryder problem. Current Ryder just has to look back over to Teo, who might just be the hottest man alive, now, and hold out her arms in an offer to share the load. She should probably carry her own food...]
Y-you... Thanks. [Oof, a little bit dizzy, now. Probably from coming down from all those jittery feelings.] Feel -- better al-already.
[Now if this were a romance story...]
I guess w-we're kind -- kind of far from the -- park. Picnic.
[When it comes to looking like the world is crashing down, the girl's a natural. There's even a steady pinging of texts from her phone, which has him determine that she's got escape-based superpowers. He respects that.
Nevertheless, he resists flashing a thumbs up or any grins at that. If he blows this, she is legally allowed to murder him, probably.
He doesn't swig his own wine, because if both of them do it, that will probably be suspicious. Plus, nobody wants to pay for a drunk escort. Not that she's going to be paying, but still.
With all the food stacked up, he hustles out the door after her. He hears her giggle and he can't help one of his own. Mission accomplished. Mostly. Now the part where they go elsewhere to eat. She holds her arms out, so, he sets a box or two in her grip, splitting the load mostly even.]
No problem, Ryder. Glad I could help.
[Now he's grinning. Even as he peers down the street to see no park in sight.]
Could get a ride there. Or try and earn the food with a walk, I guess, but I think we already earned it.
[If there was ever a superpower she wanted -- okay, no, there's so many superpowers she wants. She would take almost any superpower, she thinks, so at least there would be something to her other than her inability to get along with people. It would even help, having something to blame for her weirdness. Superpowers were always an allegory for being othered, right? Well, the good stories about them were usually rooted in that, anyway. She's pretty sure. Anyway; power to escape is extremely valuable.
Ryder scoffs, sounding more judgmental than amused.]
There's -- Never have to earn eating, th-that's -- stupid. [That's stupid!!! Still, after she says it, she frowns to herself.] Guess -- guys like y-you... Job. Um.
[Being hot is sort of a big selling point for escorts, and conventional beauty standards she wants to stab to death, etc., etc. Wait, if he has to subscribe to those -- and maybe wants to, she doesn't fucking know his life -- is she pretty enough to be seen with him? Fuck, maybe she should have...put more effort in. Even if it wasn't something he'd complain about, presumably, that didn't mean it wasn't a bother.]
Um... Y-yeah, we -- can go. Sorry. Walk. Yeah.
[GONNA GET STARTED ON THAT, and perhaps regret the wine chugging a bit. Good thing her boots don't have a crazy heel or anything. She's having a tough enough time balancing while she's continuously kicking herself, ba dum tshh.]
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storywalks) wrote2022-03-03 11:13 pm
no subject
Her hands curl into fists that she moves to her lap and she shakes her head.]
...L-live o-ou -- out. Mmmicrowave.
[Her thought process stops there, without the consideration of him asking about her in general. She's...not interesting. She's not something to talk about or learn about. That's why she eats cheap frozen meals alone watching people stream video games almost every night, instead of being in her element here. Thankfully, this guy seems confident, even if some parts of him didn't read as fitting, either.
.......Oh, she just thinks he's reassuring with his really nice smile, and thus doesn't belong in this place that makes her uncomfortable. Hm. Curses.]
no subject
The college student diet then.
[Microwaves were useful but rarely made for good meals. He remembers his mother's overuse of it.
Ryder didn't catch what he truly meant, but he decides not to pedal back just yet. That would only embarrass or fluster her.]
So was this place a step out of your comfort zone or do you usually take to these kinds of restaurants when you want to give the microwave a break?
[He kind of suspects the former. Maybe she wanted to really make the evening into something special. Maybe she was trying to impress someone-- that happened, once or twice. He hopes that it wasn't done to impress him, even if it is, in fact, impressive.]
no subject
What?
[Um. Oh. Oh. Somehow, she deflates even more. She doesn't fit in. She knows it, he knows it, everyone at nearby tables knows it, god she wouldn't be surprised if it got printed in the news tomorrow, and fuck her, because more people than you'd think still read paper news.]
I-I... I just -- thought... [Well. Shit. If she tries to say anything more, she's either going to snap at him or stutter until she's embarrassed into crying. Guess she's done with that sentence.]
no subject
He can't be too shocked on his own behalf. He was bound to fuck up sooner or later. It's what he does. It's what he always seems to do. But, he feels tremendously shitty for her. He's ruining her whole night. She probably expected to be swept off her feet by a real pro and instead, she got stuck with him.
He laughs faintly, helplessly, nervously.]
I'm... so sorry.
[Professional escorts are not supposed to apologize, a voice in his head hisses. Well! Surprise. He's no pro. He looks down at the table.]
That sounded like a jab, didn't it? I swear I didn't mean it like that. It's a nice place. Really cool. I hope you'll enjoy it too.
no subject
Nn --
["No" what? Just what is she protesting or disagreeing with? That he doesn't hope she enjoys it? He'd have to really hate her already, if he didn't want that much. But...maybe he's decided that it isn't worth it.]
Ss... S -- fuck.
[She'd say it until it proved she was capable of not stumbling over every fucking word, but someone would notice, and it'd be another person looking at her and wishing she'd vanish the same way her voice did. Fuck, her thumb hurts. Who allowed such little, nothing injuries to sting so bad?]
...Y-you don't -- hav-have -- to --
[The words stick again, possibly clinging to her tonsils for dear life, because it was a cruel world out there, please please let them stay at home. Ryder gives into the imaginary plea to instead grab her glass and quickly down the rest of it. Oof, it was sweet and all, as far as things go, but still not a good move. Just...work!]
I won't m-mma -- mmm-m. M-motherfucker. Make y-you, um. Um. ...Talk. To me, anymore. God, shit. [Don't CRY, you bitch! You've made this awkward enough! Exhale. Not sure when the inhale happened, but exhale. Phew. Good, doing good. Just another sentence...maybe. She hopes it's just a sentence. That'll take long enough as it is.] If you'll -- you -- you could just, um. W- Ugh, w-when he comes back. Order? I won't -- We can just eat. Y-you know?
[They might as well get a meal out of this.]
I should've -- I should've known -- better. Sssorry.
no subject
She stumbles over her words and it drags out the moment of waiting for her judgement. He fights to keep his cool, keep up the facade, for Christ's sake, she's paying for this.
He doesn't have to? What, apologize? That can't be right. He doesn't laugh at her cursing this time, his brows knotted. And then, just like that, confusion and surprise wipe his face clean. He blinks.]
Talk? [He repeats, like a fucking idiot.] I don't have a problem with talking to you. It's fine. You're fine. This is your night, right? It would suck if we didn't talk. [Don't say suck, you're an escort.] Unless you'd prefer it from me.
[He takes a slow breath, the smiles, small and encouraging.]
Just... if you're not having a good time, you can always let me know and I'll fix it. [Or at least set her up with a better date and give her her money back.]
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She glances away, starting to chew her lip. Think, think. What...do you possibly say to someone that doesn't have a problem talking to you? She wants to dig out her pen, but the napkins here are cloth. She wonders if it's for money reasons, or for the environment. It also looks fancier, even though it means they're reusable, so really it's a win-win-win... One has to wonder about the water bill, though. How much does laundry add to that sort of thing? ...Does she have any quarters left? This isn't a top she wears, obviously, so she hadn't been pressed about getting her laundry done before all this, but she should probably do it when she got back. Not have that stress hanging over her anymore. Find a way to relax from this disaster as soon as possible.
Oh. Oh, fuck. She's still in the middle of the disaster.]
-- Um! Um.
[Stupid, stupid, stupid.]
Give -- m-me a -- um.
[Oh god, the employee is coming back again. Ryder nearly chokes on her tongue in the wave of panic, and while she recovers from coughing, she shoots Teo a desperate look to take care of it. That is the thing he has to fix, because the rest is all on her end, she's pretty sure. Might as well, uh, nudge her glass in the waiter's direction, as well. Earn a third or fourth reason to be red in the face, why not?
It would suck if they didn't talk? ...Just for her, because it was her night? Or for him, too? He was willing to continue in silence. Flexible. Of course they'd want to be flexible -- but he only suggested it after reassuring her. He could have taken the easy out she gave him, shrugging it off as something she asked for in the first place. He kept doing...all these little things to try and get her to feel more comfortable, even though she should be driving him nuts. Why isn't she driving him nuts? If...nothing else, it's worth trying to figure that out, right?
Once she's sure it's just the two of them again, Ryder drags herself out kicking and screaming in an attempt to harness that shrieking for good.]
...I'm nnnot. Good at this. I thought -- maybe. Um. [Wow, there's no good way to put "I found a way to hold someone hostage just for conversation". She falls into a weak mumble, not daring to look up.] You -- y-you don't...mind? Really? Or --
[No, okay, let him answer.]
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What is wrong with him? He didn't blunder his other service dates this badly. He blundered his normal life this badly. He blundered second or third dates or important requests or being there when something else crops up and--
She's coughing. Is she okay? Oh god, is she choking? Wait. No. Oh. She wants something. She wants... oh!
He quickly lists off an order to the waiter, as well as a request for refilling glasses. He's quick and to the point, because he knows well this guy's going to be way busier than he's allowed to admit. Plus it gets him out of here and when she speaks up again, he's immediately relieved.]
I really don't. Even if I'm not all sure which part of "this" you mean.
[He flashes a sheepish half-grin.]
But, whatever you mean, it's not a contest. Just be how you want.
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Nnn... [Ryder fumbles through a few more noises that are abandoned, probably not as quickly as she would like, if she had any idea what the fuck was happening in the world around her. You know, maybe this is a nightmare. That would make sense. She shudders out an exhale and another cough before moving her arms to hug herself tightly. A little better...] ...Talking. Be -- bei -- be -- being a -- a person.
[What is she, a fucking alien? Ry, you useless dumbass!]
I'm -- n-nobody...likes. Being around m-me.
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Being a person. Nobody wants to be around because... he's never really here, not real, not right, not enough, always less.
He stares at her, bewildered, a little afraid. Some irrational part of him is wondering if he got set up, if this is a play on him, some kind of revenge for... he doesn't know, just being an awful person all his life? Because he deserves it. He's seconds from that panic attack when rationality kicks in to remind him that not only would no one go to such an effort, but he signed on for this job and she's the one having a shitty time.
God. He really, really, really owes her that refund. He shakes his head.]
Jeez, sorry... Uh... The talking is fine. It's cool. Really. You don't have to worry about that. Just, you know, take your time and stuff. Um...
[Breathe, Teo.]
I... get the feeling, [Don't say that.] but you seem person enough from where I'm sitting. Maybe we haven't hit off too great yet, but... I'm definitely willing to get to know you. If that's what you want.
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...Except -- ]
What.
[Thats not how he's supposed to react. Even if he's a professional! Being good at his job wasn't enough to combat how deeply weird she was making this, and he should be at his weirdo limit. Like, even if he was used to people asking him to lick the bottom of their shoes or something -- that was within the realm of possibility! This? How could he be adapting to it when she's only making it worse?
After letting her gaze slide down from him, she cautiously reaches for her glass again to have something to do. Maybe she can swallow her nerves along with the wine -- at least some of them. Please?]
...Yeah. [Yes. For fuck's sake, yes, holy shit, YES! She wants that so badly that she feels it clawing through her innards, uncomfortable and desperate.] Ssorry, um.
[Her fingers are shaking. Stop that. Maybe she actually got rid of any intelligent thought instead of her nerves, because all of a sudden, her brain is sending a signal to her mouth that she did not approve of in the slightest. Wouldn't it be nice if she could repair her filter so that it was no longer saying anything that came to mind like someone carelessly picking a lottery ball from its randomizer cage, or full silence. No inbetween.]
Your n-nails. Nice. Is, um. S-signal?
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But, at least it seems he can salvage her night, if not his job. His smile returns, faint, but warming. Getting to know each other. He can do that.
Her comment on his nails catches him by surprise and then makes him laugh. He gives his head a shake and lets his fingers tap along the top of the table.]
Nah. Job's got a dress code, believe it or not. But I like to see what I can get away with. Most of the time, it's just this.
[He puts his hands back down.]
I like your haircut. Is it more rebellious or... chic?
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Instinctually, she puts her hand into her longer bangs and turns red. Were those the only options? Either of them would be embarrassing to say... She isn't aware enough of herself to keep away the deep frown.]
...Hnh. ...Jus-just -- like it. I-I'unno. Um, y-you don't...have to compliment me, or -- whatever.
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I'm not- I'm not just saying it. It's cool. I just wanted to see if I was speaking to a... secret fellow punk, without making you feel bad about your hair if you're not into that.
[So, the whole Acting Like An Escort is out the window then. He really screwed this one. He is not looking forward to that call with the service. Of course, he's also got to tell her that he's going to try and get the fee waived, but better to tell her later, or at the least, after they've left the restaurant so he doesn't embarrass her (even more) in public.]
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O-oh. Um.
[That's a good...thing. Good thing to say and good reason to say it, she thinks. With a slow exhale, she combs her hair down over her eye a few times before glancing up.]
Yeah. I dunno. I -- guess. Like, u-um, punk lite. [But she doesn't think she'd pass the test, so there's no reason to get his hopes up. What's the criteria for being punk, anyway? Should she ask? No -- that will just make her look stupid. ...Stupider.] S-sss... Neither of us. F-fit here...then?
[Oops. But it is kind of a relief. Teo had seemed like the food would be good regardless of that, too, so maybe it would be okay despite that, and the possibility makes more of the tension in Ryder's shoulder leave.]
I w -- w-was worried. Um. It was hhhhard to f-f-find. A t -- a top that w-would cover m-my tattoos, but not -- n-not, um, make me fffeel -- feel weird.
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[Repeats that with a smile. He can get that.
With that same smile, he shakes his head. Nope, he doesn't fit here at all. Maybe his other sort of work-- the cooking kind-- but he, himself? Not a chance.
His eyes brighten further at the mention of tattoos. He nearly asks to see, but there's no way not to make that awkward. Instead, he lifts an arm up onto the table and ever so slightly pulls the cuff of his sleeve up. There's definitely ink under there. He hides it away, but his arms stay on the table now for him to lean forward.]
I'll tell you my secret. I'm always feeling weird.
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O-kay, Hulk. [Ryder gives a small nod of agreement, before sipping at her wine. Hmm. She's never seen those movies. Well -- she'd seen the Spider-Man ones because that dude had killed his lip sync performance of Umbrella by strutting his stuff, so he deserved the attention. That line was something said to Cap, right? Probably Captain America. She's pretty sure.
...Oh, right.] G-good at -- pretending otherw-wise. To me, at least...
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[Fired. So fired. He decides to take up his own helping of wine. Why not, right?]
Sometimes. Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes... well, I think it's safe to say I bungled this one. The weird cat is way out of the weird bag.
[But at the same time, now that they're talking, he does feel like he's doing better with her, if not his job.]
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Don't quote 'im, th-then.
[...Yeah, the kimono sure had been parted pretty damn far, this time. The bungling was all on her, though. Taking what he's said and thinking way too much on it, when all he's trying to do is offer her a nice, normal experience. It really is too bad she couldn't fit the role he'd prepared for her. She can't believe she ever thought she was ready. Even with the safety net of the other person getting paid for their time, she was too scared to start climbing up that social hill. Yep, that's right. Not even a mountain. A fucking hill.]
Not y'r fault... Um. I -- [Was this stupid? Did it even work like this?] Is, um. W-w... Would th-they do -- take out boxes rrrright aw-way? No plates. We could -- we could, um. Somewhere else. With th'food.
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Wasn't intentional...!
[But it's a totally fair ribbing, so he'll accept it. He hums in thought at her question and takes a dubious glance around the restaurant. His expression turns to something of a wince.]
...Well... If this were any kind of Asian cuisine, even the 5 stars do takeaway, but... given that it's not... I'd say you're looking at a one-in-forty chance. [He forces a tentative half smile that's not all escort worthy.] Might be worth a shot?
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...They w-w-w-wouldn't let -- people get a b -- a box? For leftovers? It's just -- l-like that, isn't it...?
[Just...taken extremely early. No restaurant would deny leftovers, right? They would still get the money, and then they could turn the table around faster and get someone else in! Only good things.]
Could... Um...?
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[Weird things. Egotistical things. He'd hope he never gets to that point but he sincerely doubts he ever will. He is not 5-star material, dream as he might.
He gets her suggestion nevertheless and nods.]
Maybe act nervous. Just in case. [He lifts a hand and waves over the waiter. It takes a minute, then Teo plasters on a worried look himself, though it's really not that hard to fake.]
Hi, I'm sorry, we just-- we got an emergency? We need to go right away! Is there anything the chef can do for, ah, a takeaway? Please?
[The waiter, looks torn between sympathy and convulsing in protest. Teo pries him a bit more, laying it on as thick as he can, and the waiter finally leaves them. The only thing that stops him from flashing a thumbs up is his worry that he'll get the both thrown out and with nothing to show for it, and so he watches the waiter as he disappears into the kitchen, the proceeds to watch the kitchen with baited breath. He lets it out in one hefty exhale as the man and a second waitress return with stamped and tied boxes resembling birthday gifts done up in high end shops. A third waiter brings the tab.]
Thank you so much- [He continues to press. And he hopes that Ryder can handle the tab part at least-- one thing about his job was that it wasn't his job to pay for things through the night and so he didn't tend to bring money. He can, at least, start piling the boxes on her behalf to carry out of the restaurant. With any luck, they can be making their getaway straight out those doors...]
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spam me about an emergency
It doesn't take long at all for new messages to start appearing, phone softly buzzing with each one. ...It may not be the first time Ryder has relied on this particular ruse -- and as long as she didn't call, her mom knew that she was inconvenienced more than actually needing the safety of someone talking to her. It's a good system.
Lip thoroughly chewed, but the tough part apparently taken care of, Ryder looks up with wide eyes that now have a touch of genuine gratitude in them in addition to her worry. Only -- ugh, fuck, stupid credit cards! Okay, well, while that's being rushed, she might as well quickly down the rest of her glass. Come on, come on...! Funnily enough, it really is starting to feel like an emergency, but on top of the need to run away and hide under a rock, there's the quietest whisper of a thought that, oh, this is kind of fun?]
Th-th -- So sorry! [Thank god, here's her card again. No time for math, so she errs on the upper end when it comes to the tip, even though her bank account was going to weep. Better than returning their accommodations with something insultingly low. God, she hopes that wasn't somehow too low? Oh fuck, now she's doubting herself, but it's time to squirrel her card and phone away again and power walk towards the door.
Outside, her shoulders drop and a shaky exhale wheezes out of her, followed by a weak, mortified giggle. He did it. He hit them out of there. Oh, right --
thanks love you
She'll have to explain it later, which means she'll have to think of some other cover because like fuck is she telling her fucking mom she hired an escort and was a complete and total loser about it, but that's a future Ryder problem. Current Ryder just has to look back over to Teo, who might just be the hottest man alive, now, and hold out her arms in an offer to share the load. She should probably carry her own food...]
Y-you... Thanks. [Oof, a little bit dizzy, now. Probably from coming down from all those jittery feelings.] Feel -- better al-already.
[Now if this were a romance story...]
I guess w-we're kind -- kind of far from the -- park. Picnic.
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Nevertheless, he resists flashing a thumbs up or any grins at that. If he blows this, she is legally allowed to murder him, probably.
He doesn't swig his own wine, because if both of them do it, that will probably be suspicious. Plus, nobody wants to pay for a drunk escort. Not that she's going to be paying, but still.
With all the food stacked up, he hustles out the door after her. He hears her giggle and he can't help one of his own. Mission accomplished. Mostly. Now the part where they go elsewhere to eat. She holds her arms out, so, he sets a box or two in her grip, splitting the load mostly even.]
No problem, Ryder. Glad I could help.
[Now he's grinning. Even as he peers down the street to see no park in sight.]
Could get a ride there. Or try and earn the food with a walk, I guess, but I think we already earned it.
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Ryder scoffs, sounding more judgmental than amused.]
There's -- Never have to earn eating, th-that's -- stupid. [That's stupid!!! Still, after she says it, she frowns to herself.] Guess -- guys like y-you... Job. Um.
[Being hot is sort of a big selling point for escorts, and conventional beauty standards she wants to stab to death, etc., etc. Wait, if he has to subscribe to those -- and maybe wants to, she doesn't fucking know his life -- is she pretty enough to be seen with him? Fuck, maybe she should have...put more effort in. Even if it wasn't something he'd complain about, presumably, that didn't mean it wasn't a bother.]
Um... Y-yeah, we -- can go. Sorry. Walk. Yeah.
[GONNA GET STARTED ON THAT, and perhaps regret the wine chugging a bit. Good thing her boots don't have a crazy heel or anything. She's having a tough enough time balancing while she's continuously kicking herself, ba dum tshh.]
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