The pairing for now is trory. But that doesn't mean it will stay this way forever. Actually, I have no idea who will end up with who because I have yet to figure out the details. So, stop asking. I don't have the answer! Officially, I'm following the show up till A Deep-Dried Korean Thanksgiving. That is not to say I won't incorporate facts from later episode for the purpose of my personal enjoyment. The only logic behind this decision is that Jess in the following episodes doesn't really fit the tone of this fic. Yes, skimpy logic. Thanks for pointing that out.
Dedication: To my wondrous partner in crime, Reeka. Sorry, still no pirates.
Disclaimer: This is not, I repeat, this is not written by anyone affiliated to the Gilmore Girls staff or WB. Even though there might only be six degrees of separation between them and me. That still doesn't mean I own the characters or have control over Daniel Palladino's writing.
Rory hugged her trench coat closer to her body as a gust of wind whipped across her face. She could feel her chandelier earrings swayed along with the wind. A stray piece of gum wrapper crossed her path as it danced along with the wind. Just like a tumbleweed in every cliché western movie. For a brief second, Rory wondered why Chicago, instead of New York City, was nicknamed the Windy City.
She was bored out of her mind and she started studying the dark splotches on the pavement. Somebody once told her those were dried out gum. But Rory couldn't wrap her mind around that. Those ugly black circles were once pastel pink and blue and came in different flavors? Yeah right. Regardless of its origin, it did provide a stimulating game of connect-the-dots while she was stuck in this weather.
The chilling wind sent shivers down her spine. She just hugged her coat a little tighter.
Rory looked at her watch again as she circled in front of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. 7:30. Tristan was at least 15 minutes late. Seeing that Tristan was never late before, she was more worried than irritated. She wanted to wait a little longer before calling him. But this wind was getting on her nerves and it's interfering with her rational thought process. She finally gave in and called his office.
"Hey Tristan, it's me, Rory."
"Hey. What's up?"
"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?" Namely, right next to her and not in his office.
"Am I?" He asked quizzically. Rory could hear the shuffling of papers in the background.
"We're supposed to grab dinner together. You even told me to wait for you outside the main entrance of the Met. Remember?" She hid behind the majestic columns in a weak attempt to avoid the wind.
"Yeah. But I thought I'm going to meet you at 7 o'clock."
"Yes you are."
"It's only 6:30 right now."
"No. It's 7:30." Rory corrected him. Then she remembered the story he told her some time ago. "Did you forget to wind you watch again?"
"Oh my god, it is 7:30! You've been waiting for 30 minutes? Why didn't you call earlier?" His voice brimmed with concern and empathy. Suddenly, the wind didn't seem to bother her that much anymore.
"I thought you needed time to finish up some loose ends." She replied softly.
"Well, I do have a little bit of paper work to finish up. Hey why don't you come up, I'll tell Claude to let you in."
"I'll see you in a few then." For a brief moment there, Rory wondered if Claude was the name of the security guy that's been casting her suspicious glance ever since she was here. Guess Claude wasn't a big fan of connect-the-splotches. Too bad, cause Rory thought she found the constellation Orion somewhere on the ground.
She slowly went through the directions Tristan gave her earlier. The way he described it, she thought his office was located in King Mino's labyrinth. But in fact, it was much easier than she expected. All she had to do was follow the lonely light emitting from his office. On her way there, she came across a dark-haired girl. Rory offered a cordial smile but once the girl saw where she's heading, she turn decidedly hostile. As if Tristan was a plague in her life. Rory shrugged it off and chalked it up to regular office politics.
Rory poked her head into his office. "So this is where you work." She glided in, casually observing her surroundings. A humble window offered a portal to the outside world. Little green and red volumes of Loeb Classical Library neatly nestled in the bookcase. Latin on the right, Greek on the left. All lined up in chronological order. Neat.
"I'm sorry. This place is a complete utter mess." Tristan looked from his work and offered an apologetic smile. His desk, however, was the exact opposite of his bookcase. He coaxed a stack of papers into a folder, hoping it might remedy the situation.
"I've seen worse. You should see my office before a deadline. Straight from the set of Twister." She replied casually as she leaned over his desk. "What? No family pictures?"
"I used to have a few of them. But then I kept knocking them over to the floor." He answered ruefully.
"I had the same problem until I got my hands on a roll of double-sided tape." She offered while playing with a paperweight she found balancing perilously on the corner of his desk. "Hey, did you happen to tick off anybody while working here? Some girl was giving me the stink-eye on my way here"
"You must mean Carmen. She's always mad at me one way or another. I still have no idea why she has a bone to pick with me." For a moment there, he was reminded of their argument du jour. Tristan softened up once he chased away those thoughts. "Come over here, I have something for you."
When she walked over to his side of the desk, she noticed a pen lying innocently on the floor. Tristan must've knocked it over while working amidst this chaos. In some way, this was like her office. Papers and odd stationary strewn haphazardly around, writing utensils hiding beneath stacks of paperwork, never there when they were needed. She picked the pen up and placed it gently on top of a stack of paper. Rory didn't give it much more thought.
She saw Tristan conducting a scavenger hunt in his drawer before he finally pulled out what he's looking for. It's a little silver pin with the Met's logo engraved on it. It sparkled with life underneath the light. She never knew a simple pin could look this good. Tristan held onto her lapels and gently pulled her closer to him. Rory took a deep breath as Tristan fastened the pin on her coat.
"And here I thought the gift shop is closed for the day."
"Do you like it?"
"I'll never take this off." She ran her finger lovingly over the smooth surface, leaving partial rings of fingerprint on it. "I feel like I should give you something in return. Hmmm, I think I can offer you a piece of gum." She dug her hands deep into her coat pockets.
Tristan watched her in bemusement. The way she concentrated her attention on the little details. The way she made every little gestures endearing to him. They all reminded him why he was obsessed with her over all these years. Ten years. And it's all worth it.
Rory finally stopped digging and looked up. "Okay, so all I have is a gum wrapper. But, it used to be a cherry gum wrapper so it still smells really nice, very fruity. Unless you're not a big fan of cherry gum, then this isn't … "
He put a finger over her lips and stopped her in the middle of her rambling. To be honest, he didn't care about the gum, or the gum wrapper for that matter. There was only one thing he wanted to do. Tristan lightly cupped her face and slowly brought her face closer to his. She looked straight into his eyes and saw the intensity of his stare, mirroring her own intent gaze. She finally succumbed to the inevitable kiss.
What started out as a gentle kiss slowly intensified to nothing they've ever had before. He could feel her lightly nibbling on his lower lips while he ran his fingers along the small of her back. Rory found herself stroking the back of his neck and realized his hair was soft to the touch. As nice to touch as kitten's fur. Tristan wished they could stay this way forever but they finally had to come up for air. Their foreheads touching, his heavy breathing caressed her cheeks.
"I guess we're even now." Rory realized that this wasn't the smartest thing that ever came out of her mouth. But her brain circuits were sufficiently fried.
"Well, I actually have a favor to ask you."
"So there's an ulterior motive."
"I'm a DuGrey. There's always an ulterior motive." He winked at her. "What's your plan for Thursday?"
"Thursday is John Hughes night at our place. We're supposed to watch Pretty in Pink this week."
"Big fan of Andie Walsh?"
"Jess is. He once wrote on the Molly Ringwald cycle of John Hughes for film studies." Then she remembered the pinkie swear that they made. "But for the record, I didn't tell you that."
"I'll try to keep a secret." But then he turned serious, "Is it possible for you to postpone the John Hughes film festival for a week?"
"Tell me what you have in mind and I'll think about it."
The history of John Hughes night went all the way back when they were teenagers. Though it got discontinued a few times out of necessity as they lived in separate cities, they always resumed it whenever they could. That was one ritual that they never grew out of.
If she ever postponed this, she better had a damn good reason. Something along the lines of her being stranded in a tropical locale, outwitting other people for a million dollars.
"My brother is launching his new magazine this week. There's suppose to be this big party and everyone who's anyone will be there. Seeing that he's my brother, I have to make the mandatory appearance." He took a deep breath to gather his courage. "I'm wondering if you'll be my plus one."
"So that's for next Thursday?"
"No. This Thursday."
"And yet you waited till today to ask me."
Tristan apologized, "I'm sorry for asking you in such short notice. It totally slipped my mind. If his secretary didn't call me this afternoon, I would've forgotten about this whole thing all together." He saw the hesitation that darted across her eyes. "So? Will you come with me? He ordered a ton of cute cupcakes from Cupcake Café." He threw in the last part as an incentive. And incentive that he knew Rory couldn't resist.
"Kiss me again and I'll think about it." Her mischievous grin spread all the way to the corner of her eyes.
He gave her a brilliant smile and leaned in. Somehow, Tristan knew that she'd made up her mind already.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You want me to do what?" Jess asked incredulously. He stared at her like she was one taco short of a combination plate.
"I need you to call me at around 9:30."
Rory surveyed herself in front of the mirror one more time. She bought this dress a month ago during an irresistible sale and never had the right occasion for it. Since the dress was 300 percent off, she never considered its practical function when she handed over her American Express. Rory smiled wryly. Lorelai's shopping habit was getting contagious. She tugged at the hemline again. This dress didn't fit as well as she remembered. Maybe she gained a few pounds between then and now.
As if he could read her mind, Jess offered, "No, you're not fat. But I think you should really lay off the pecan pralines from now on."
Rory responded to his wise-ass comment by pushing him off her bed. But she wasn't mad or anything. She knew he was in no risk of acquiring some of Luke's Mr. Nutrition stance and he was just joking. This was what exactly their relationship was based on. Intimate understanding of each other's little quirks and the ability to make fun of them.
This was different than the kind of rapport between Tristan and her.
She stuck her tongue out at him while he crawled back up. "So why should I call you at 9:30?"
"Just in case the party is a major snoozer, I have an escape plan." She held up a thick garnet bracelet and a chunky silver bangle, undecided on which to wear.
"How is this an escape plan? You have to curb your obsession with O Brother, Where Art Thou?" Jess pointed at the bangle and Rory tried it on. She waved her arm in front of him for further approval.
"I can say maybe you broke your leg or something else that requires my immediately attention and therefore my absence from boring, stuffy social obligations."
"So you mean when my dates get a phone call in the middle of a conversation and say they have to go home to save the cat from a tree …"
"They're desperate to get away from you." She pretended to give this a serious thought, "Actually that's not a bad excuse. Maybe we should use that."
"That's a terrible excuse! Also, you don't have a cat, so you might as well scrap the I-need-to-go-home-and-feed-the-cat excuse while you're at it." He balked at her. "Anyways, I still can't do it on account that I too have a date tonight."
"You're dating?" It's now Rory's turn to sound surprised. It was not as if she expected him to be celibate after they've broken up. Heck, she even saw him out on casual dates back in Stars Hollow. But none of them last and she thought he'd be single for life. The fact that he didn't seem to be interested in anyone ever since he moved in with her only served to confirm her speculation. Apparently, she stood corrected.
"Yep. Matt set me up with this girl." Matthew Lombardi was Jess's childhood friend. From the stories that Jess told her, they used to set up trashcans and perform intricate jumps with their skateboards. Most of those stories ended with, "that's how I got 15 stitches here." The boys grew out of their old habit. But they still got together twice a week for a friendly game of 3-on-3 basketball whenever Jess was in town. She saw him a few times.
"What does she look like?" So Jess is having a date. Big. Deal. She had been telling him that he needed to get out more. But she was still more curious than she should be.
"I have no idea. It's a blind date." He didn't seem to pay too much attention to it. In fact, he didn't seem to care about it altogether.
"Never saw you as a blind date kinda guy."
"There's always a first time for everything." Jess flipped through her CD collection, pretending to not give his current situation much more thought. "Hey when did you get this Propagandhi CD?"
"A while back." Sensing Jess's wish to change topic, she went along with it. "You can take it if you want."
Jess plucked out the CD along with a few vintage Rolling Stones. "I guess I should start dressing up also. I'm suppose to meet her in half an hour." He started towards the door.
Before he left, Rory reminded him, "Have fun. And don't forget to wear matching socks. Chicks dig that."
Tristan expertly eased his sleek German sedan in front of the resplendent Waldorf-Astoria, remnants of Duke Ellington's voice resonated in the car as he turned off the engine. He leaned back against his seat and let out an audible sigh, "Last chance to run. Maybe we should skip this and go to Cafeteria instead."
"Are you telling me you're going to ditch your brother on his big day? Shame on you!" She said with a mock frown. "Besides, we're not dressed for Cafeteria."
He took a look at the both of them and reluctantly agreed. "It's just I haven't been to one of these events for a while. All they talk about is who's getting a new car or who's getting botox. I'm not sure if you know this, but rich people suck at making small talk."
"Lighten up, I'm sure you'll do fine. The sooner we go in, the sooner we leave." She offered weakly before they stepped out of the car. A uniformed valet approached them. Tristan tossed the keys to him in a single fluid motion.
She knew Tristan didn't enjoy or attend these big society functions as often as his family name implied. Unlike the people they'd meet, he had an honest 9-to-5 job and spent most of his night in front of the TV rather than socializing at a fundraiser. But inconspicuous gestures like that betrayed his upbringing. Tristan DuGrey belonged to the upper crust. And nothing could disguise that fact.
"What's the name of the magazine again?" She rested her hand on the crook of his arm. The wind wasn't as strong as a couple days ago, but it still managed to give her the chills as it grazed her ankles. Rory snuggled closer for warmth.
"Panoptes. Short for Argus Panoptes, a creature … "
"With a hundred eyes. His name literally meant "the all seeing". Even when he sleeps, at least one eye was kept open to watch over Io."
"How do you know that?"
"I took an introductory Greek mythology course when I was in college. Nice name for a political magazine. Did you come up with that?"
"Yep. It took me quite a while to convince my brother. He said I spent too much time cooped up in the museum." He laughed at his brother's acute observation. It's really not that far from the truth. Tristan pressed the close button in the elevator, enjoying their last moment of solidarity. "Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?"
"Not in the last 15 minutes."
"You look beautiful tonight."
He was telling the truth. Her hair was secured into a chic chignon by a silver barrette. The one-shouldered dress clung to her every curve yet still left room for imagination. When she stood by him, her delicious perfume wafted up to his nose. It was a mesmerizing scent. Something nice. Something citrus. Something that he really liked.
"You're not so shabby either, mister." She lightly stroked the soft material of his tux. Tristan, on the other hand, displayed roguish charm in his well-fitted tux. Every single movement displayed refinement and superiority cultivated from years of practice. Yep, this guy was no ordinary Joe.
"My grandfather got this made for me when I was 17. He said if I take good care of it, it's supposed to last a lifetime and will be appropriate for all of life's major events."
"Your grandfather sounds like an interesting character."
"He is. I'm sure he'll like you." She tried ignoring the implications behind that sentence. They had only been dating for a month and for heaven's sake, all Lorelai saw was an old yearbook picture. No need to jump that far ahead.
"So what's your brother like?"
"He is the exact visual translation to the word debonair."
"He's just like you then." The security guard didn't even bother to ask for ID when they waltz past him into the room.
"In more ways than one."
But she heard none of those words. Rory was momentarily preoccupied by the grandeur before her. She honestly had never saw such extravagance before and those Yale functions ain't shabby affairs either. "Wow."
Wow was a right word for this. Miles of lush black velvet mysteriously cloaked the room with silver accents bringing in a whole new layer of richness. Centerpieces were tastefully scattered around the room in abundance. No tacky ice sculptures, no helium balloons, no dime store confetti. Seriously, who needed those when there's a 50-piece jazz band situated in the middle of the room?
Before she even had time to take in all the sights and sounds, her cell phone interrupted her. It vibrated against the constraint of her tiny purse, sending tremors up her arm. Jess's name came up on the call display. She looked apologetically at Tristan.
"Here, why don't I take your coat to the coat check. I'll meet you back here." As if he had far too many experience in this area, "If that's Jess, he better not use the I-broke-a-leg-while-showering excuse."
Rory waited till Tristan was out of sight before she took out her phone.
"Hey, I thought you're not going to call."
"Change of plans." He replied in his usual nonchalant manner. "How's your night so far?"
"Not too bad. A lot less painful then what I have in mind." On her way out, she stopped by the waiter and grabbed a cupcake from the silver tray. The petite dessert was covered with a scrumptious white butter cream frosting and roasted coconut sprinkles. She licked off the smidge of frosting that got onto her pinkie. It tasted as great as it appeared.
"Actually, I didn't call to see if you want to leave early."
"Then why did you call?"
"Deanna and I are having a good time so far."
"And …" Rory could guess the answer already, but she didn't dare to say it out loud.
"And I was wondering if you can come home a little later than usual." It was not a question. Rather, it's a statement.
"Okay." She replied gingerly before snapping the phone shut.
Rory didn't know what more to say. Have a great time? Happy hunting? Some joke about him being fast? 4 years on the Yale debate team and all she could've come up with was "okay." Her underdeveloped vocabulary appalled her. She didn't deserve her Oxford compact dictionary. She might as well buy the phonics kit and start all over again.
Then she saw the consolation prize in her right hand. The pristine little cupcake. She ate it, allowing the sweetness to mask her disappointment. She didn't know how to compartmentalize her emotions. Did this reaction stem from the fact that Jess was her roommate? Or the fact that he was her ex-boyfriend eons ago? Or the fact that both of them were ready to give up John Hughes for a frivolous night of indulgence? She honestly didn't know.
Thank god she finally spotted the blond hair back at the previously agreed spot. Now that she had someone to focus on, maybe her mind would gain a new layer of clarity.
Rory gently tapped on his shoulder. "Hey, looking for me?"
"Sure." He looked like he was caught off-guard. "I swear, that waiter with the tray of cupcakes was deliberately avoiding me. If I stay in one spot, he has to come around, eventually. You think so?"
"They might run out though. Those cupcakes are really, really good. I had one earlier."
"I hope everybody else like them as much as you do. My brother and I quite a few sample cupcakes before we could decide on this." A waiter walked by and he grabbed two flutes of champagne for the both of them. "Do you think it's inconsiderate to have roasted coconuts on it when people might be allergic to it."
"There's 500 people here and I'm sure you couldn't please everybody. Besides, they're in plain sight. They probably won't eat it if they're allergic to it."
"People suffocating would cause bad publicity for this magazine." He eyebrows scrunched into a knot as he thought up worse case scenarios.
"Relax. I'm sure nothing bad will happen."
"I hope so." He carefully scanned the room, but the person he was looking for was nowhere to be seen. "Have you seen my brother?"
"I'm not sure. What does he look like?"
"Tall, blond. Kinda like me. Trust me, he's hard to miss"
As if on cue, a blond-haired man walked up to them. "There you go. I've been looking everywhere for you. Joe Michetti caught a hold of me and he won't stop talking about his yacht." He paused once he noticed the man standing beside Rory. "Yo."
"Yo yourself. I've seen the yacht. It's not as impressive as it sounds."
Rory stood between the two men with her mouth agape in confusion. But it wasn't the nautical talk that caused the puzzlement. It was their appearance. From her vantage point, the two men looked exactly the same. Same hair, same eyes, even the corner of the handkerchief in their breast pocket looked amazingly similar. They looked like exact replicas and Rory had trouble distinguishing which is which.
"Ummm. I know I have a low tolerance for alcohol, but I don't think I should be seeing double after a tiny sip." Rory looked at the DuGrey brothers, "Care to explain." She didn't bother directing the question to anyone in particular. It's not like she could tell the difference.
"Wait a minute, you have yet to introduce yourself?" Asked the latecomer.
"I thought I knew her."
"Didn't the alarm bells ring when her face drew a black."
"It's not like I know everyone in this room." He waved at the crowd before them. "Look around you, Tristan, this room is filled with hundreds of people. I didn't invite all of them myself, my publicist did. I thought if I start talking, I might remember who she is."
"Umm, life is not a Seinfield episode."
"Don't give me that look. This worked before."
"The two of you have to stop talking about me like I'm not in the room." Rory now had a vague idea of the man's identity. She must've been talking to Tristan's brother all along.
"Rory, I would like you to meet my evil twin brother, Christian DuGrey. Christian, this is Rory Gilmore." Tristan put his arm up and around Rory's waist. She chose to ignore the borderline possessiveness of his stance.
"Please to meet you." She reached out for a handshake.
"The pleasure is all mine." Christian bent down and kissed the back of her hand instead. Rory was pleasantly surprised and Tristan fidgeted. " And for the record, I'm not the evil twin. He's saying that because he's jealous. You see, I'm 35 minutes older and he's been holding a grudge ever since."
"I'm holding a grudge because you dumped a box of crayons into the dryer and pinned it on me. Mom's 300-count pure white Egyptian cotton sheets came out looking like a Jackson Pollock canvas." Tristan vehemently defended his position.
"You've been telling everybody that. But remember, you have no prove." He clicked his tongue in triumph.
Rory swiveled her head back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match. This was an immensely interesting turn of events. She whispered to herself, "This is like the third season of The Amazing Race all over again."
"Huh?" Tristan cocked an eyebrow in reply. It's now his turn to look confused.
"Derek and Drew. Except we haven't done matching outfits stint since preschool." Christian piped up, clearly contradicting his current attire. He added the last part upon seeing his own reflection in the form of Tristan. "This doesn't count, because grandpa got this made when I was …"
"17 and it's supposed to last a lifetime and will be appropriate for all of life's major events. Yes, I heard that before."
"You mean you actually listen to him when he opens his piehole."
"Hey!"
As much as he wanted to stay and chat with his brother, Christian had other obligations. "Anyways, nice talking to you. But, I better catch up with Jason Laraque before he leaves. I'll catch up with you later."
Once Christian left, Tristan saw the look on Rory's face. "What? Is there something on my teeth?"
"You never told me you have a twin brother."
"I thought I did."
"Nope. You said you have a brother, but you never mentioned the identical twin part. Also, Christian and Tristan?"
"It was nearly Tyler and Tynan. But dad vetoed it because Ty and Ty will be too confusing."
"I'm sure that fact that you two looked exactly alike has nothing to do with the confusion." Rory was being sarcastic.
"Nah. I think our looks are overrated." He looked at Rory's downcast face, "Are you mad?"
"Me? Mad? Nah. Just felt awfully embarrassed. Thank god I didn't insult him, or his guest list, or the hors d'oeuvres, or the..."
He interrupted her before she went off-topic like she usually would. "You want to go now? I think I've filled my annual quota and my cheeks hurt from smiling too much."
"You sure it's alright with your brother?"
"We've been here long enough. I'll just call him tomorrow for the cliff's notes version of this. Look, I know this quaint little coffee place in the neighborhood and I think we should go there."
On any other occasion, she would not have objected to his suggestion. But the band started playing Can't Take My Eyes off You. It was one of her favorite songs.
"Can we stay for this song?" She knew he could never resist her if she used her bambi eyes.
"Sure. But you don't get to make that face for the rest of the month." He lightly chided before he led her to the dance floor.
By the time Tristan dropped her off, it was well into midnight. They had a fascinating conversation on every imaginable topic. Time really flew by when she's having a great time. It could've gone on longer if the coffee shop employees didn't kick them out.
She realized the night was better than expected.
Rory also realized that she would've stayed out late with Tristan, whether or not if Jess ever called. It was comforting to know that she didn't have any excess emotional baggage. Guess that momentary breakdown she had was only a knee-jerk reaction.
Rory was awfully tired and cruel reality reminded her that she still have to go to work tomorrow. All she wanted to do was to crash into her bed. Who cares about makeup removal and pajamas. She was tiptoeing into her room when she saw Jess sitting like a stone sculpture on the couch. He looked like he was doing some serious thinking.
"Hey. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" She whispered as she tossed her keys into her purse. She gave up walking on those shoes and opted to hold them instead.
"Can't sleep." He signaled for her to sit beside him. "Why are we whispering?"
"So we won't wake her." She tilted her head to the direction of Jess's room. The doors were closed.
"There's nobody in there." He said in a normal volume.
"What happened?" She rearranged the cushions and sunk into the soft folds of the couch.
"It was pretty good up till desert and the topic of music came up."
"What's the matter? She's not a fan of the Stones?"
"Nope. But that's not the worst. I started talking about Glenn Miller and with that she replied, "It's that guy that hosted the football show!" I swear, I nearly sprayed my drink out of my nose."
"Sorry, I'm lost here. What football show?"
"It took me a while to get this one. But my guess is she confused Glenn Miller with Dennis Miller. Dennis Miller had a brief stint hosting Monday Night Football."
"Should I be appalled at her ignorance towards the big band era or should I commend her knowledge on sports trivia?"
"Tell me if you figure that out. I'm still stuck on the part where she said she ever heard of the Flaming Lips before."
"Not a soulmate eh?"
"Wasn't looking for one." He shrugged. But he was looking for a compatible dinner companion and tonight he came up empty. "Look, we need to talk."
"Is it okay if we do this tomorrow? I'm tired and I have to work tomorrow." Rory didn't even wait for his answer before she walked back to her room. She's not ready for this. Not when it's 12:30 in the morning and she had to wake up in 6 hours.
"Sure." Jess said to the empty room. The hollow echoes taunted his old memories.
He never felt this lonely for a long time.