Replying To Reviews:
Night Owl Revolution: There actually is a reason, and you will begin to find out this chapter. :O
"Oh my gosh, I haven't seen you in years!" Intern 2 tries to hug her, but she instinctively stops him, and he backs away.
"What are you doing?" Scene asks.
"Well, normally I come here on Thursdays, but I had a meeting then, so I came on Saturday." He replies.
"No, throwing cigarettes on the ground near MyMusic!" Then Scene realizes what's really wrong with this situation. "Wait a minute, you smoke? Since when do you smoke?"
"Since my Aunt Beverly died." He replies with a sad smile. Scene's face suddenly flushes bright red, and something, bizarre as it is, is comforting about seeing Intern 2. "How are you?" He looks at her coffee cup, at the swiftly scrawled decaf written on her cup, then at her outfit. "Decaf? Boots? A trench coat?" She realizes just how much she's changed since he last saw her.
"Wanna catch up?" Scene ventures, to change the subject from her differences, but at the same time, not wanting him to go. As much as Intern 2 smells like bologna, he-. Wait. He doesn't smell like bologna now. Maybe catching up is needed.
But not to Intern 2.
"Well, I was on my way to a meeting." Intern 2 says. "B-but, it was...nice seeing you again." He pats her shoulder, and she only touches his hand with her fingertips for a second before he turns back around, and continues in the same direction as he was.
Scene lets out a faint yet strangely familiar whimper before turning back around, and walking home.
The minute she gets into her apartment, she sets her now-empty cup down, runs to her room, and pulls all the clothes out of her dresser. Long dresses, skirts, and solid-color vests. Her mom's clothes. The clothes she got when her mom died to wear when they would fit. She realizes how much she hates the clothes. She loved her mom, not her mom's clothes. When did she start wearing these?
And her music choice: none. No CD's or posters in sight, no hair dye, she just curls her hair every morning or leaves it down.
Heart racing with anxiety, she runs to the spare closet in the hall, and pulls out every old box she hasn't touched in two years. Things labeled "clothes" and things labeled "music." Things that make her smile when she sees them. An old Fallout Boy CD. A Nyan cat shirt. How long has it been since she went on Tumblr? A year?
But then things start to hurt. She finds the shirt she last wore when Intern 2 left the company. The shirt she wore when she hugged Jeff goodbye as he left on his plane with a promise to come back in a few months. The CD she paused to answer the phone when Nerdcore called to say he was moving to Japan to work for Nintendo.
The jacket she was wearing when Indie said to stay off the caffeine.
Before she even knows what's happening, she pushes the box of clothes over, and starts shaking and crying. Everything good gone. And it's never coming back.