Hamboning. He's been hamboning. And now everyone knows. Okay, so maybe it isn't the most impressive of talents. And yeah, maybe it's just the nerds that do it. But that doesn't mean that Robbie doesn't truly enjoy it. That doesn't mean it hasn't given him something to focus on these last few weeks. And he's been better. So much better. Everyone can tell. Can't they?
He's not holding Rex on his arm like a security blanket, or trying to find ways for one of the Vega girls to kiss him, or peeing in his pants when he gets scared, or letting his feelings get too hurt when one of his friends comments on his social awkwardness. He's been better.
All it takes for that to come crashing down is one stupid guy seeing one stupid video of him doing some stupid hambone moves. He should have known better. He should have known that proclaiming himself king wouldn't go over well. Unless he labeled himself king of the non sequitur. Or maybe king of the awkward pause. Or king of saying the wrong thing. Or king of rejection.
Oh, yep. There it is. King of rejection. That should be his title. He wanted to pursue comedy, but Rex is funnier than he is. He wants friends who accept him, but they all make fun of him. He wants to not be so lonely, but every girl he goes after turns him down. Even Cat, the one person besides Beck who does accept all of his eccentricities. Especially Cat, the one person who he's actually serious about when he poses questions like, "cuddling during the horror movie?"
But he never seems to learn.
When Cat does something especially sweet, and he asks her to dinner, she brings Tori and Andre and Jade and Beck and whoever else wants to come along. When Cat gets scared and grabs his hand during one of those horror movies, he'll twine their fingers together, only to have her giggle and push him away to get more popcorn. When Cat's down and he sings her a song to cheer her up, she misses the point and goes after the same guy who hurt her feelings. And he's trying not to try so hard. He really is. But it's difficult to remember that when she swirls around in front of him tap dancing to a rhythm only she hears, or when she kisses him on the cheek for luck, or jumps into his arms in excitement, or says, "Oh, Robbie," in her high pitched breathless way. He just can't help it.
And that's why hamboning has been so great. He can make up his own beat, slap his hands together, stomp his feet, close his eyes, and just get lost in the noise. He doesn't have to come up with words about how he feels. If he's angry, he can clap faster. If he's sad, he can slow it down. He doesn't have to worry about what anyone else thinks. And he doesn't have to wait for the words to come to him like he does when he writes songs. Until he posted the stupid video on the stupid internet that made him stupid popular for about thirty stupid seconds.
And when he's lying in the fetal position in the alley behind the only sushi place that will still have him, that's what he thinks about. He thinks about all the times he tries, all the times he pushes forward, only to fall back. And he starts to think that maybe dirty pavement and stinking garbage cans could be nice places to hang out. Maybe dark and dank alleys are in his future. And yes, he is well aware that he has taken on an overly dramatic attitude faster than a Cat Valentine mood swing. But he doesn't care. So he tells his friends to leave him alone in an alley in the dark where who knows what could happen to him.
And they leave him. Jade, well, that's no surprise. She's a tough love kind of friend. That's what he's been telling himself the last few years, anyway. She gets bored easily, and she snaps out of frustration, and she's of the opinion that people should learn to deal with their issues on their own, just like her. But Andre, Andre, who has always at least pretended to be a good friend to him, whether for Beck or for Tori's sake, he doesn't know, leaves him too. Yeah, he gets on Andre's nerves once in a while, but... Andre usually tries to help him out. Now, he trots behind Jade like a lovesick puppy, nursing a crush that Robbie thought would have faded away by now. Cat is the one to hesitate, the one who doesn't seem sure if it's a good idea to leave him or not. But Robbie is just one of her friends. And most of them are inside, and when it comes to friends, in Cat's mind, majority tends to rule. Kind of ironic for the girl who is used to being the only one in on the joke, the one so lost in her own vision of the world she doesn't care what anyone else thinks. So she twirls away and ducks through the door, but not without a lingering glance that Robbie entirely misses, so engrossed in his own misery.
So he's alone in an alley, wishing that he could learn from his mistakes. Wishing that he wasn't still afraid of the dark. Wishing that he had never posted that video. Wishing that he didn't embarrass so easily. Wishing that he wasn't always the one who ended up alone, rejected. But he is the king, isn't he?
It's Tori who comes around the corner of a building to check on him. It's Tori in all her meddling self centered glory who gives him the chance to not be rejected again, to not feel so miserable. It's Tori who wants to help him feel better while still managing to make this situation all about her own rejection. And in a way, it is comforting that Tori, the girl that always seems to land on top with her looks and her voice and her friends, was cast aside once just like he was. And it's nice that she's willing to help him this time, even if she has a habit of reminding him that she's coaching him because she knows how it feels to be humiliated by Gerald too.
And the training feels like it goes on forever. But Tori is there, telling him to keep going, keep trying, that he can do it.
So he goes for it one more time. When she tells him he can be anything, he wonders aloud, "even your boyfriend?" And she is quick to shoot him down, expression of disgust and all. Which is fine. Because he is, after all, the king of rejection. All this practice at accepting the word 'no' should come in handy when someone finally says yes.
He kind of hopes that it's not going to be Tori though.
She has this habit of taking pity on people and saying yes to things she doesn't mean. He doesn't want to be her pity date, not ever. He likes having Tori as a friend. And yeah, he might flirt with the idea of what it would be like to date her, but he doesn't think he would even know what to do if she said yes. She isn't really the kind of girl he can see himself kissing good night at the end of a romantic date, or the kind of girl who will accept all of his insecurities and reassure him that he's hers. No, when it comes to Tori Vega, though he might make a big show of hemming and hawing when she turns him down, he knows it's all just part of being the king of rejection.
And he's okay with that. Because one day, maybe one day soon, he'll have the chance to be the king of something else, to someone else. Maybe someone who's been right by his and Tori's side, tap dancing a rhythm for him and sending him encouraging smiles every chance she gets. Yeah, that would be nice. He'll call himself the king of persistence then, the day that Cat Valentine finally looks at him with her wide eyes and her pouty lips and nods her head to one of his very important questions, the day that Cat is the one who won't leave him curled up in an alley, no matter how many times he tells her to do it, no matter how many of her friends leave him behind.
Robbie might not have been the king for long, but he knows he can out-wait just about anyone for his next shot.
A/N: Took a break from NaNoWriMo to do a quick (very quick) edit of this oneshot that I never posted. Hope you all enjoyed it. I've been writing my other story out of order, so it might be a while before there's another chapter posted. I tend to write scenes as they come to me and fit them together, so sorry for the wait.