Robin took another long drag from her cigarette, relishing the quick sense of relief, of control of herself, before slowly exhaling. Her mother would never approve; she would tell her that smoking kills, that she would die of lung cancer before she could achieve her true potential.

Potential to do what, though, Robin wondered. Write another hit song? Perfect the new dance move in the choreography? Hit the highest note?

Robin was twenty one years old and was already washed up. She was stuck going around on tours trying to promote her latest crap album, always asked to sing 'Let's Go to the Mall' instead of her new, darker material.

No one wanted to see the real Robin Sparkles; the angry woman she had grown into, the one with actual emotions. No, they wanted to hear the old, upbeat lyrics and the beats they could dance along to.

Robin was twenty one years old and a fraud. She put on her Robin Sparkles mask night after night to please the crowds, please the record companies, please her mother, but never to please herself. No one knew who the real Robin was, not ever her. And she never had a chance to find out.

A shadow was approaching from behind the corner, and Robin quickly dropped her cigarette butt, squashing it into the snow in case it was her mother. It wasn't; just a man making out with his girlfriend as they walked.

Robin was twenty one years old and lost. Literally and figuratively. She was in a foreign country, in the city that never sleeps, and she was alone. More than that, though, she was lost in her life. She didn't know what she wanted, and every pathetic act of rebellion was just a quick fix. Nothing she did allowed her to take control of her life.

Which, oddly, was the whole point of becoming Robin Sparkles. When she had run away from her domineering father and gone to live with her mother she had fled to the opposite end of the spectrum. Because her father lacked the ability to recognize her for who she was she had completely redefined herself. She had dyed her hair this ugly shade of blonde, gotten a perm, and became a teenage pop star.

Now, five years down the line, and she once again felt the desperate urge to redefine herself, except this time in her own terms. The only problem was, this time she didn't know how. She had been the ultimate tomboy, and then the pop princess, and now she had no where left to turn.

The happy medium had never really been her thing.

So she was stuck, going on a dumb tour in New York that her mother said would rejuvenate her career, being laughed at by people who had never even heard of Robin Sparkles and faking her way through what were supposed to be the best years of her life.

Robin sighed deeply and checked her watch. It was past midnight, which meant her mother would surely be looking for her. Reluctantly, she began to walk towards the hotel, or at least where she thought the hotel might be.

Absent-mindedly walking, Robin didn't hear the sniffling and as she rounded the corner she slammed directly into someone, the force of the collision sending her flying backwards.

She landed on her ass in the snow, the man lying on top of her, staring directly into her eyes. For a second she couldn't breathe.

Then he moved off of her windpipe.

"What the hell? Watch where you're walking, jackass," she said angrily, wiping the snow off her backside as she stood up.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking," the man muttered, accompanied by a loud sniffle.

He was trying to pick himself off the ground and Robin couldn't help but take pity on him. He was a young man, just a few years older than herself, with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail wearing oversized clothes and an odd necklace. And he did look sincerely apologetic for having barreled over her, which was far more than she could say about anyone else in this godforsaken city.

With a small smile she reached down to help him up. Gratefully, he took her hand and she managed to pull his light frame upright without much effort.

"You okay?" she asked in her kindest voice, surprised to find that she was actually genuine in her worry.

"No," he sniffled, wiping his eyes fiercely.

"Do you want to, maybe, talk about it?" she offered hopefully. This man was certainly interesting, and could hardly be worse than going back to the hotel with her mother. Plus, if she squinted, he was kind of cute.

"No," he said harshly.

"Fine," she said, annoyed now. The one time she tries to be nice and it's thrown back in her face. "Whatever."

She was about to walk away when he started to talk.

"It's just, she promised we would go together, and I loved her, and we were supposed to be together forever, and then some dumb guy in a suit came along and all of a sudden it's like she never even cared about the poor Nicaraguans."

Robin stared at the man in amazement. She hadn't been aware that someone could say so many words in a single breath.

"Huh?" she said dumbly.

"Nothing, it's stupid. Sorry to have bothered you." With another giant sniffle the man started to walk away. Robin watched him for a moment, inwardly debating something before running after him.

"Hey, you weren't bothering me." He looked at her in surprise, large blue eyes glistening in the moonlight. "Do you maybe want to get a cup of coffee?"

"No!" he exclaimed suddenly, causing Robin to leap backwards as her mind flashed back to those horror stories she'd heard about crazy people in New York. "I mean, no thanks. That's where we worked, at a coffee shop."

"Oh, you and the girl. Right. Well, do you want to grab a beer then?"

"A beer? Do you know what that does to your body?" Robin cocked an eyebrow impatiently. "I mean, sure. That sounds good. I'm Barney, by the way."

"Robin."

"That's a pretty name," he said with a hesitant smile.

"Thanks. My dad picked it because he wished I was a boy."

"Oh."

Robin covered the awkward silence that followed by searching for a bar on the deserted New York street. She finally found one, but it looked rather seedy, and she couldn't help but wonder if this hippie guy would get mugged. On the bright side, it didn't look like he had much on him, so it probably wouldn't matter anyway.

"Here we go. McClarens. This looks nice, doesn't it?"

Barney simply nodded nervously. Taking that as a 'Yes, Robin, great job finding this place,' she cheerfully pushed the door open and entered.

Grabbing her new friend by the hand she steered their way through the crowded bar and into one empty booth at the far end of the room. As she sat down she signaled the bartender and turned back to Barney who was still staring at his hand where she had held it.

"So, girl problems?" she asked conversationally. Unfortunately, Barney looked like he was about to start crying again and Robin winced.

"She, she left me. We were going to save the world together, and then she said I was just a phase. How could I just be a phase? I loved her! And now she's with some stupid guy in a suit." He hiccupped loudly.

Robin looked uncomfortably around, awaiting her drink. "Well, if it's any consolation, I hate guys in suits. They're such tools."

Barney looked up at her in surprise and laughed loudly. He had a nice laugh. Once again trying to collect himself he turned the conversation to her.
"What about you? Why are you wandering around New York at night?"

"Nothing better to do." Their drinks finally arrived and Barney stared at his apprehensively. "Bottoms up," she said, and downed hers in one sip. Somewhat uncertainly, Barney followed her lead. Almost immediately he began coughing harshly. With a kind laugh, Robin reached over and hit him on the back.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely, when he had finally recovered.

"You don't really hold your liquor well, do you?" she asked.

"I don't drink."

"Ever?" she asked, shocked.

"Ever. My mom used to drink a lot. She wasn't very nice when she drank.

"Oh. So did my dad." Robin couldn't believe she just told this virtual stranger that. Then again, he had been honest with her, so she figured she could at least try to return the favor.

"I like your hair," he said, pointing at her curly blonde locks. Robin laughed derisively. She hated her hair.

"I dye it. And curl it. It's actually brown."

"Really? I've always thought brunettes are really beautiful." He smiled shyly, not quite meeting her eyes, and she couldn't help but giggle. She had forgotten how nice it was to be flirted with.

"Well, I've always had a bit of a thing for blondes." Barney's cheeks burned a deep red and he self-consciously ran a hand through his long hair. He took a long sip from his refilled beer.

"This stuff is actually pretty good."

"Yeah, it's great for taking the edge off the pain." Barney raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"What's your pain?"

"What?" Robin asked, shocked that anyone would be forward enough to ask such a personal question.

"You said it takes the edge off of pain. So that makes it sound like you've had experience."

"Well, everyone's had pain at sometime in their lives."

"So what was yours?"

"Dude! You can't just ask people that."

"Why not?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"Because, it's personal," she answered, wondering why she couldn't come up with a better answer than that.

"Oh. Sorry. I was just curious about you. You're really interesting."

And the weird thing was, he actually seemed to mean it. And that is the reason Robin gave to justify her next actions.

"I hate my life."

Well, she had said she wanted to change. Why not start with a stranger.

"Why?" he asked, without a trace of condescension or judgment in his voice.
"Why? Because. Because I do whatever my parents tell me to do. And I hate it. I hate my job, I hate my family, I hate my hair, and I hate myself. Or the person who I pretend to be." Robin sucked in a deep breath after her rant and glanced up at her companion for his reaction.

"Then why don't you be someone different?" Barney's answer seemed so simple when he said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How?" she asked desperately, leaning over the table.

"You should find something that you want to do. You can help me help the Nicaraguans if you like."

Robin laughed sadly. "I don't think I can do that. I don't even live here. I have to go back to Canada tomorrow morning."

"Canada?" he asked, and Robin could have sworn she detected just the faintest sneer in his voice.

"Yeah, Canada. You got a problem with that?"

"No. It's not your fault where you're from," he said reasonably.

"What? Canada is an awesome place! It's beautiful up there."

"Hey, you're the one who said you hated your life. Isn't Canada part of your life? Therefore, you hate Canada by extension." He smiled smugly as Robin's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, causing her to forcibly resemble a fish.

"I-you-whatever." Robin took another sip of her beer since she had no sensible comeback. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"That's because you can't think of one. Because Canada sucks." Robin laughed. Who would have thought that someone so shy and sweet would have such strong opinions? But she didn't answer because he was right. She had nothing.

"All right, last call you guys!" The bartender yelled.

Surprised, Robin glanced at her watch. "Oh, crap! I've gotta go. I have to get back to the hotel."

"Hang on, I'll walk you out," Barney said politely.

He went ahead of her and held the door open for her as she pulled her heavy jacket on. "Thanks," she murmured.

As soon as they were back on the street she turned to face him. He stared right back at her, his blue eyes intense, and she felt suddenly naked, as though he could see past her mask and to the real her. It felt surprisingly good.

"Well," she whispered, leaning in close to him. "I should go."

"Yeah," he muttered. He was still staring at her, but clearly wasn't getting the signal. Robin decided to take matters into her own hands.

She closed the gap between them slowly and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips touched his, hesitantly at first, but as he returned the kiss she became more aggressive. Her mouth opened and his tongue entered and he was a surprisingly good kisser for a hippie.

Gently pulling back, Robin smiled at Barney, who was blushing again.

"I'll see you around," she said, disentangling herself from him.

"I thought you were going back to Canada."

"Changed my mind. I think there might be more interesting stuff to do down here." With a wink, Robin turned on her heel and walked back to the hotel to have a long, and undoubtedly loud conversation with her mother.

As she trudged through the snow, feeling Barney's eyes watching her, she couldn't help but smile.

Robin was twenty one years old and for the first time in her life, she was actually excited to see what life had in store for her next.

Because she had a feeling that Robin Sparkles had just died.

And Robin Sherbatsky had just been born.