"Lex, can you help me with the popcorn after you've set up the projector?" Anya yelled across the small place. She waited for a moment for her friend to answer but when nothing came, she dropped the popcorn bag and went to find Lexa.

She found her in the small projection booth, with knitted eyebrows, focusing on one of the projectors. She couldn't read the brunette's face, so she wasn't sure whether it was safe to distract her, but she risked it.

"Lex?" The brunette almost jumped and finally turned to face her friend. "Sorry. Can you help me with the popcorn when you're done here?" Lexa stood still for a moment but nodded and then led her focus back to the projector.

"Um... okay then, thanks."

Anya knew that Lexa hated to help out at the snack bar, although her job was just to prepare the bags of popcorn and to maintain supplies. Normally, Anya was able to run the snack bar on her own, but it was the first day of a new movie and the huge number of film–goers today was more than surprising. Anya smiled. The tiny movie theater they were running had never had such a big audience ever since they started it and she was more than proud of having a full house.

Every once in a while she cursed her job but it were days like this that made worth all the occasional trouble.

The movie theater grew fuller and the waiting line grew longer, and Lexa was glad that Anya was quick in her movements so that there was yet no need to open a second line. She focused on the popcorn machine and prepared bag after bag, until she heard a person behind her clear their throat.

"Excuse me?"

Lexa turned around and looked at the customer on the other side of the counter, and waited for her to ask her question. She was stunning, Lexa thought, and she quickly lowered her head, feeling somewhat intimated by the sheer beauty.

"Could you maybe tell me where I can empty the ashtray?" The woman asked and Lexa raised her head in confusion. She didn't work there, why would she empty the ashtray? She narrowed her eyes, and the other woman spoke again, gesturing with her hands towards the entrance where the tray was placed.

"The ashtray, outside. It's full. Everyone here is busy so I thought since I used it, too, I might as well empty it. Can you tell me where?"

The woman smiled and Lexa's body stiffened as her heartbeat sped up. The blonde woman with those sparkling blue eyes and that raspy voice was really requesting to do her own job. And before Lexa could bring up the courage to talk, the blonde slightly raised her eyebrows in some kind of realization before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry, are you..." she faded and instead raised her hands to continue her sentence in sign language.

Anya, who had witnessed the scene laughed and came to help Lexa.

"No, that's Lexa. She's just shy." She grinned and was rewarded by a fierce glare of the brunette, but laughed and turned back to her customer, while Lexa took in a deep breath and shook her head.

"No, please. Don't... I will empty it in a minute." She said, obviously trying to look the blonde in the eye but just couldn't.

"Oh, okay. But only if you're not too–" the smiling blonde started but was interrupted by Lexa.

"No." The short word came out sharper than she had intended and the other woman opened her mouth but closed it again, taking a step backwards and then nodded. "Okay, then... thanks. Lexa." She smiled again and turned around.

Lexa lowered her head and looked at her feet, shaking her head. But she didn't have time to reflect on her behavior and she honestly didn't care either. She knew she had seemed a little harsh at the end of their conversation but that was mostly because she was annoyed by Anya, who knew exactly that Lexa wasn't shy. She sighed and went outside to clean said ashtray and then checked her watch, realizing it was time for her to go back to the projector booth and start the machines.

Lexa climbed out of her old black Mustang and quickly made her way to the small warehouse that she had converted into an apartment. It was outside of the city and the nearest neighbors lived two miles away.

She locked the door and typed in the security passcode, then made her way to the shelf that held hundreds of records, neatly organized by genre and artist. Her fingers danced over the covers until they stopped on a vinyl of her favorite band. That'll do it. She thought.

As the music blasted through the speakers, she slowly walked to the kitchen counter and looked at the bottles. Jim. She grabbed the whiskey and took a large sip, beginning to drown her thoughts in guitars and booze.

I'm scared to be close and I hate being alone

Drink.

I long for that feeling to not feel at all

Drink.

The higher I get, the lower I'll sink

Drink.

I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim

Drink.

Half a bottle later, she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She didn't even bother to adjust the temperature, nor to put the bottle away. As the last chords of the song faded, she closed her eyes and leaned against wall, letting the heat turn her skin into an unhealthy shade of red, burning soft flesh on her neck.

The next song started and she took another sip. And another one. And another one. She wasn't crying, that was a good sign. Or not? She was thinking about her harsh response to the blonde woman and she felt anger boil up inside her.

Beat me black and blue
Every wound will shape me
Every scar will build my throne

As the chorus boosted, she emptied the bottle and at the last word, she threw her fist into the wall.

Two whole bottles were needed for her to finally fall asleep that night. A good sign. It had been worse. But it had also been better.