" Hey." He said, trying to perfect the mixture of optimism and sympathy needed to lift her spirits.

"Hey." She responded, clearly showing that his approach wasn't working.

Dawn held a glass of wine in her right hand. Despite being able to slip into the new world pretty seamlessly, alcohol was the one thing he never got used to. Even in the old world he could never quite get behind it. All he knew was that when you drank, you were less likely to pull off a job. Still, at least people tended to drink together, or at bars. Here, everyone seemed to hole up in their homes and drink themselves to death. Eugene almost snatched the glass from her hand, but decided against it.

Instead, he took in his surroundings. Every time he'd been there he'd been focused on getting her to like him, trying to restore what they'd had. Never before had he just looked at the place. Predictably, paintings covered all the walls. A monochrome picture of what looked to be Pascal sat on the coffee table. What truly caught his eye was the kitchen. Rapunzel never really cooked before. Even in the tower it had always been Gothel making the meals. Yet, the kitchen was filthy, every inch covered in flour or grease.

For a moment, he didn't see the girl he was trying desperately to get back. He saw a wonderful woman who was trying to put the pieces of her life together.

He poured himself a drink and sat next to her. Actually he poured himself water and pretended it was alcoholic, but it worked the same. For the next few minutes they sat together. As the air conditioning sang, the sounds of water flowed through the building. Finally she spoke.

" I never really wanted to be a landlady." Her voice was small. " I mean, obviously no kid says that they want to rent out rooms on their school papers, but I never wanted this."

Dawn rested her head on the counter, letting her hair clump up on the sticky spots. " My parents owned this place, so when they retired it went to me. I always thought it would be a temporary thing. I had my paintings. I was going to live the dream, like that cliche didn't die out a half a century ago. "

When she didn't elaborate, Eugene decided to prod her a bit more. " So, what happened?" He put a hand on her shoulder, fearing that he sounded too much like an interrogator.

" Nothing." Just as he was about to pry further she continued, " And by nothing I mean nothing. No matter how much I put myself out there I was met with silence. Soon enough I figured it out. The only one who was ever interested in my art was me. Maybe some people would pity me, but nobody ever really cared."

She scoffed, but the tears in her throat muffled it. The words dissolved like paper as she spoke them. " I should have known that I wasn't the kind of girl who could get out of her town, or make a living painting, or do anything that wasn't handed to her on a silver platter. Regina was right, she's got more control over my life than I do."

Yet again, silence filled the room. Eugene racked his mind for something, anything that would make her feel better. This was hardly his area of expertise. Still, he tried.

" You know, you look at yourself and see someone who's failed at everything. But this is the lady who decided to confront the second scariest lady I've ever met just because she thought it was fair. This is the lady who's spent her whole life trying at something, and take it from a quitter when I say that that's a feat in itself." It might have been a trick of the light, but Eugene could had sworn that he had seen Dawn's expression change. " LIke you said, this cliche might have died half a century ago, but I believe in you."

And he sat there, believing in her for the rest of the night.