The clerk kid at the cash register, no older than sixteen, became slightly tense at the entering of our favourite spiked-haired Boy Wonder. The dark haired, pale boy at the front of the shop couldn't help but think, 'Boy… Wonder how it's like to wear something so tight…' Robin admit to himself that he actually did like these claustrophobic small, punk styled shop types, even though he practically luminesced in his leotard of traffic-light red, green and yellow, in contrast to the surrounding colour tones that were either off-blood red or vampire black. This was where he often got his CDs, and where Beastboy got his comics. He also could've sworn it was where Raven got pretty much everything she owned with the exception of shampoo and undergarments. Oh nope, never mind, they had those too. There was really a whole bunch of different stuff from figurines to books to clothes. He picked up a figurine of Batman and examined the detail; as if he didn't already have twelve, (still in packaging, perfect condition only 29.99 each, plus tax. Each sold separately.)

Then he saw it on the far side of the room. It wasn't like he didn't know that guys his age had posters of underdressed girls in their rooms. And it wasn't like he didn't know that Starfire was a particularly attractive adolescent. And it definitely wasn't like he overreacted, after all, it could've easily went worse, what with his years in training in the arts of Kung Fu, experience fighting alongside Batman, even alongside Slade… but he wasn't the type of guy to lose his cool. So when he passed by it, he calmly and simply took it off the stand, crumpled it and tossed it in the trash. Calmly. Along with the 20 other roles that were rolled up underneath. I said calmly, right? He mentally sighed. Next time the Titans decided to go to the beach, he'd make sure that they went to some deserted island in the remote regions of the globe, away from any cameras. Or from peeping teenage boys. Just to be safe, away from any vague civilization of any sort at all. She was his. It was an unquestionable fact that was just somehow understood. Even the senior citizens of Jump city were aware. He was a teenage boy himself, so could he blame boys for being boys?
The answer is yes. Yes he could. But he wasn't going to react. Because it was hella more scary that way.

Robin picked up his My Chemical Romance CD and headed to the front desk to pay. At the desk, the once pale boy was now blood-red, hoping he'd blend in with everything else in the room. It was now apparent to both parties why he'd been tense from the beginning. The Boy Wonder had an unbelievably expressionless face, with unapproachable calmness. The boy working the cashier trembled and fidgeted nervously, with slightly wider eyes than considered normal, as Robin made his way to the desk. He was so right. Nothing made you want to piss your pants more than Robin being unwaveringly stoic. The shop was chokingly awkward and silent. Wishing with all his dear heart and soul to disappear, one could easily feel pity for the chum; after all, he just worked there, he didn't come up with the merchandise. Needed the money for college, to get himself a good job, buy a car, get the girls, keep the food on the table… as Robin neared the table, all the ambitions and hopes he ever had for life rushed through his head then vanished like a burnt out flame. He jolted at the sudden pelt on the table as the CD was lazily tossed on the table. Eyes glued to the table, fretted and afraid to look up at the buyer, he quickly calculated the change.
Twenty-five, thirty, th-thirty-five, oh man, oh man, oh man, fifty-six, thirty-five. I mean it was just a picture of his girlfriend. No biggy. In a two-piece. No biggy. Looking like… No biggy. Thirty seven, thirty eight, stupid pennies.
"Good Band, eh. I heard they broke up. It's a bummer." Robin said making conversation.
The boy froze at the comment in bewilderment and incomprehension. With a stupendous nod and nervous "uh-huh"
he quickly returned to work.
Robin had the slyest smile one will ever see in their lifetime.
He's going to just slice my head off. I know it. He's just being nice because he knows what he's going to do to me. He's fattening me up me up like a turkey the day before thanksgiving. Awh man, that's totally it. Curses rang loud and continually in his head. This must've been, or felt like it'd been, the longest time he'd ever taken to count change. Twenty-five, th-thirty, thirty-five, wait was that a quarter? Wait, hold up, start over. GAAARRRHH. Finally he just gave him whatever change, rounded up, so that he'd just stinkin' leave already.
"Well, best buy their last album, I guess." Robin tossed the suggestion out there, before picking up the change and making his way out the door.
Once he was gone, the dumbstruck teen then released a whoosh of relief and collapsed in his chair.
Well that could've easily went worse.
The boy bored propped his elbow on the desk and rested his face on his palm. He looked at the trash. The shop couldn't sell the posters anymore, but… What a waste… he thought. He got up from his chair and made his way around the desk.
Suddenly, upon passing his desk, he tripped on some sort of wire that'd been attached to one side of the desk and something else on the far right. He didn't have time to identify what it was because he found himself abruptly being violently pulled up by some sort of booby-trap mechanism. By the time he had time to register what had just passed, he found himself hanging upside down from the ceiling by the ankle. He looked up at his foot that was wrapped and hung by a bird-a-rang.
Still. he thought, that could've easily went worse.