The dimly-lit room with the blinking neon sign was a pathetic excuse for a bar. When Thorne had finally cracked through Kai's defenses and convinced him to go out, he hadn't imagined they'd end up at the type of locale where elderly gentleman tended to hit on very young females. It was the closest bar to Iko's apartment, and Thorne was worried that Kai would change his mind if they didn't just go inside immediately.

Now, two beers down, Kai was slightly more relaxed and optimistic. His anxiety over Cinder still not responding to any of his messages had made him a constant presence at Thorne's apartment over the past three days. He'd skipped work completely, claiming he didn't want to risk running into Levana until he had a better idea of what to do. Kai's nerves were slowly unraveling Thorne's patience, which he knew was already something he possessed little of. Still, despite how much he complained about him, Thorne was relieved to have Kai back in his life.

Thorne had texted Kesley, encouraging him to come out with them. Now, Thorne was stalling Kai until Kesley would show up, see what kind of crap bar they were in, and hopefully suggest heading some place more fun. It had been too long since Thorne had really enjoyed himself. A night out with the guys was just what he needed. Listening to Kai brainstorm ideas about getting Cinder back was certainly a distraction, but it wasn't enough to keep his meandering thoughts from going back to his own screw-ups with Cress.

He'd texted her again the day after talking with Scarlet—he'd apologized again and said he'd like to see her, if she were willing. Just to chat. Cress hadn't replied, of course, but maybe it was for the better. Watching Kai stumble over a million feelings going in all different directions was enough to convince him that his continued worries probably weren't worth the trouble.

He'd tried to contact her, tried to apologize, tried to see her. At some point, a guy had to admit defeat. There wasn't much else he could do, he figured, except now try to move on with his life. Tonight could be the night to turn it all around. He'd barely laid eyes on a different girl since Cress had left him. With his buddies at his side and a better atmosphere, his perspective could change for the better. It would, he decided.

Kai was taking turns swiveling his coaster between his hands and pausing to spin it like a dreidel. It inevitably always fell down, but Kai continued his own personal game nonetheless. "I just have to wait for Iko to give me the green light," he said. "She's going to get Cinder to see me somehow."

"So you said," said Thorne, checking his phone. Luckily, Iko hadn't refused to see him. Thorne was pretty sure it was because Kai was somewhat famous, and Iko was kind of obsessed with the mere idea of him, but it didn't matter. It was a small victory for Kai. Considering that his call to recount his time with Iko had ended with him agreeing to go out, it was a small victory for Thorne too.

He took a small sip of his beer. It was probably just the lame bar, but Thorne hadn't really been into the scene thus far. He'd hoped having a drink or two would loosen him up, but he'd barely made it through one beer before he'd felt that he'd had enough. "You ever think how much easier this would be if we'd just been born to other parents?"

Kai's hand paused on the upright coaster. "In what way?"

"You wouldn't be engaged. I wouldn't be...the way I am."

He shook his head. "That would put me in a different life. I wouldn't have met Cinder."

"There you go again."

"What?"

"You sound like Cress. Believing in fate and all that crap."

"Maybe you should give it a try."

"Maybe you should dump Levana."

Their eyes met, each daring the other to change his opinion, then both laughed. They knew it was a moot point to convince the other of much of anything, particularly at a time like this.

"Come on," said Thorne, rising from the barstool. He threw a twenty on the counter. "Kesley just texted. He's waiting outside."

"With Scarlet?"

"Nope. No women tonight." A slow grin formed on his lips. "Well, none that we know, at least."

Kai reluctantly got up as well. "Where are we going?"

With as much enthusiasm as he could muster, he put his arm around Kai's shoulder and gestured at the exit. "Wherever we want, man. With no one to tie us down or tell us what to do, nothing is stopping us from having a fabulous night." Kai nodded and they headed out, with Thorne trying to convince himself that what he'd told Kai was actually what he believed.

They managed to agree on a somewhat newer establishment closer to the downtown, but not close enough to Kai's office that he felt he would run into someone he knew. The bar had lively music, good food, and a dance floor that was somewhat separated from the bar area. Thorne appreciated this fact, because despite the usual enjoyment he got from going to clubs, he was not in the mood at all to dance—especially not with Kai or Kesley around. Surprisingly, he was also still not in the mood for alcohol either.

The all-you-can-eat chicken wings were glorious. They polished off a third plate and contemplated getting a fourth, mainly because Kesley ate six out of the ten wings on each plate before Kai and Thorne could barely finish off their own two. Kesley was never without appetite, so they went ahead and ordered another round. The waitress, who was friendly and somewhat sassy, kept brushing up against Thorne's leg with the bare part of her leg as she took their orders. In the skirt and knee-highs she was wearing, he couldn't deny she was attractive. On a normal night it probably would have stroked his ego to know that she was trying to get his attention. Tonight, he just laughed it off with the guys, rolling his eyes melodramatically and getting back into the lively discussion they were having about cars that were produced in the same year as the Rampion.

Though the Rampion was one of his favorite topics, his eyes flitted back to the waitress when she returned with more food and drinks. He paused just a little too long on the spot above her knees, where the stockings ended with a lacey line. Kesley coughed loudly, and Thorne looked up to see the waitress grinning at him cockily. She sashayed her hips a little, encouraging him to linger on her form even longer, making sure that he got a fantastic view of her skirt as well. He ignored Kesley's hard look and pretended to focus on what Kai was saying about a car that had more horsepower...or something. His mind was really elsewhere, trying to think of things that were boring, uninteresting, and not sexy at all.

Because all he could really think about now was the way Cress would look in those knee-highs.

Frustrated on many different levels, he excused himself and headed for the back exit. The fresh air was a welcome friend after the stuffiness of the bar and his frazzled thoughts. He kicked at a trashcan—a move that had him wincing within seconds. Stars, that thing must have been filled with rocks.

"Everything all right?"

He turned, startled, and tried to keep a neutral expression on his face when he came face to face with the waitress. Of course she would be here. Of course she would follow him outside. Hadn't he bolted from the table after leering at her for too long? He would have ridiculed another man had he done the same thing. Thorne had rules, and one of them was not to do anything suggestive unless he was willing to follow through on those suggestions.

As she approached him, he told himself, this is not her fault. You set her up for this. Gave her the right social cues. Led her on. How was she supposed to know you're thinking of another woman? What kind of man are you anyway?

According to Cress, the asshole kind. According to him, she was right. "Just needed to get a breather. I'm fine, thanks."

"My shift is done in an hour."

Right. The next step would be for him to say something smooth about how he couldn't wait for that hour to be over already. Instead, he looked down at his feet and somewhat stuttered, "I'm sorry if I led you on. You seem—great—but I'm—not available."

He glanced at her in time to see the hurt and surprise flash in her eyes, but she didn't back away. "You have a girlfriend?"

"No. Just—" Just what? He had nothing intelligent or kind to say, and the longer he stayed in the conversation, the smarmier he would seem. "I shouldn't have looked at you like that. It was inappropriate and I'm sorry."

He practically bolted back into the bar until he was safely locked in the bathroom, breathing heavily. He checked his appearance. What was wrong with him? He was more than available. He wanted to hook up with another woman; he needed it. For all he knew, knee-highs out there could be the next interesting phase of his life. So he had messed up with Cress. She was just one woman on this massive planet. They didn't all make him happy, so why should he expect himself to make every single woman happy?

This was Kai's fault. Kai was bringing him down with his drama. Kai was influencing him too much with his do-gooder, one-woman, long-term love speeches.

Thorne could actually recite line-by-line the speech that Kai had written for Cinder, that's how much he'd heard him practice it.

He shook out his arms and leaned closer to the mirror. It's over. You are not going to lose your mind just because some girl dumped you. Get over it. He took a deep breath and nodded once. You've got this, Thorne. You are awesome. You are extremely good-looking. You just made that girl out there offer you her night. You can be anyone and be with anyone. This is your night.

"Where have you been?" asked Kai. "We texted you."

Thorne shrugged and sat back down at the table. "I needed some air."

"Ah," said Kai.

"The waitress," added Kesley knowingly.

"Yeah, in her dreams." He frowned, annoyed that he was lately always the reason for exchanged glances. "Stop that. I'm not interested in her."

"Okay then."

Eager to change the subject, he gestured between them. "So, what have you two been doing in my absence?"

They exchanged another look, but this time not at his expense. "Making observations," said Kai slowly.

"Such as?"

"Seems like this joint doesn't mind making sure their customers get completely inebriated."

"That's how they make money," said Thorne, shrugging.

"Well," said Kesley, "a bartender can still try to use a bit of good judgment about when someone needs to get cut off."

Kai laughed nervously. "Yeah. There's this one couple in particular that we've been watching. Mostly the girl—she's putting on a bit of a show, if you know what I mean. Getting the guys all riled up."

Thorne didn't even bother to turn around and look at the dance floor. Drunk girls were never his style, and a recent Masquerade Ball had reminded him of that. He could still hear the typical hooting and hollering from the crowd, though, and could only imagine what they were doing out there.

"You've gotta check this out, Thorne," said Kai. "You look like you could use a distraction."

Kesley looked sheepishly at the finished plate of wings. "I feel a bit bad, but I even sent a picture to Scarlet. You don't know whether to laugh or be intrigued or cringe. It's like it's Halloween in the summer." Thorne took a sip of his water. "She looks like a sexy, freaky version of Wednesday Addams. You remember that show, right?"

Thorne did remember that show, so he turned around to indulge them. About fifty feet away, in the center of the dance floor, was the couple that Kai and Kesley were talking about. The girl had a black wig on with two long braids that flopped around her plunging school-girl neckline as she danced around a guy—not dressed up in costume—who was grinning as if it were his birthday. The black and white striped tights she wore contrasted sharply against the black of the rest of the outfit. Disinterested, Thorne turned around again and muttered, "Hmm."

"No, Thorne, check it out, they're coming over here," Kai whispered urgently. "Watch what the bartender does."

"Who are you?" said Thorne, annoyed.

"Pay attention," said Kesley.

"Just watch," Kai whispered again, mesmerized.

Thorne looked up at the ceiling for patience. Then he shifted his focus on the couple again. The guy held her by the hand and danced them over to the second bar, only about twenty feet away from them this time. His free hand took its time roaming the rest of her outfit, making no effort to hide which parts of her backside he was groping. Thorne really hoped that he didn't look like that when he was trying to seduce someone. The guy handed her another shot, which the bartender already had ready for her. It was hard to tell from the distance, but Thorne was pretty sure they must have exchanged a wink.

"That was her fourth shot just since you've been gone," said Kesley.

"That guy should be reported, don't you think?" asked Kai. "You hang out in bars and clubs more than we do, Thorne. Isn't that kind of unethical?"

"Unless they're together and they paid the bartender beforehand," Thorne murmured, taking another sip.

The girl took the shot and downed it, before raising her glass in the air victoriously as her dance partner and the bartender high-fived. On her tiptoes, because she was rather short, she put the shot glass back on the bar and finally turned around, grinning broadly.

Thorne choked on the water he was drinking.

Kai pounded him on the back, but Thorne was already past his coughing fit, swearing almost incoherently.

"What? What?" asked Kai.

Thorne dragged his hand down his face. He covered his mouth, trying to keep himself from shaking.

"Does he know her?" asked Kai.

Did he know her. He would know that smile anywhere. Now that it was so obvious, he couldn't believe he hadn't recognized her earlier, costume and all. "It's Cress," he whispered. He faced the two of them so he wouldn't have to look at her.

"Oh…oh," said Kesley. "Shit."

"Wait, what?" said Kai. "No way! You're confused."

Thorne swallowed. "I never actually told you how I met Cress, did I?"

"In the elevator."

"No, we'd already met."

"But—"

"Excuse me," said Thorne.

Kai and Kesley stared up at him as he rose, hands fisted. He didn't bother trying to compose himself as he stormed towards the dance floor. Halfway there, eyes focused only the dancing girl dressed in black and the way the guy was moving himself against her, he took a deep, steadying breath and uncurled his fists. He knocked into some people that were dancing in his path by accident, but he didn't stop to apologize.

Seeing her dance made the pit in his stomach grow larger, bordering unbearable. This wasn't Cress. This wasn't the girl he knew at all. This was Rapunzel, a purely seductive flirt. Her nerves weren't there, nor her usual blush, nor her shy-but-feisty disposition. Her eyes weren't big or innocent, only tantalizing. But he knew better; Rapunzel combined with alcohol would soon lead to loopy smiles through half-lidded eyes.

He cursed. She was shutting it all out again. Numbing herself just like he numbed himself with women.

He had done this. This was his fault.

He stepped right in front of them, nearly sandwiching Cress between his chest and her partner's back as he stared the idiotic guy down. Cress somehow continued dancing, but he ignored her, choosing instead to yell over the music. "Can't you tell she's completely drunk?"

The guy made a face and put a hand protectively around Cress' waist. "So?"

"So screw you if you think I'm going to let you take advantage of her!" He didn't even wait for him to respond, just shoved him away from Cress. Then he bent down and threw her over his shoulder the way he always had. She squealed as she was flipped, but he held onto her legs firmly as he faced the guy again. His birthday smile was gone, replaced by anger. "I've got my buddies and her boss here with me," Thorne shouted, pointing behind him with his thumb, "in case you have anything else to say."

He began to walk, and within seconds Cress was pounding against his shoulder blades. "Put me down!"

"Yeah, like that's happening."

"Put! Me! Down!"

She kept hitting him, and they were drawing attention now, but Thorne didn't care. He kept walking, only grimacing when he briefly made eye contact with Kai and Kesley. Choosing for once not to take the easy route, he decided not to involve them. No, this was something he needed to do on his own. His back was sweating now with the effort it was taking to keep Cress over his shoulder. She was squirming about so much that he was certain he wouldn't last much longer. Relieved at the sight of the bathroom, he pushed the door open and then kicked it closed behind him before he finally set Cress on the ground in front of the sink and turned on the water.

She scrambled, but he locked his arms around her so she couldn't dart away from him or the sink. "Splash your face, Cress."

She spun around, facing him, and they were almost in an embrace with the way he had his arms splayed out as a barrier on both sides of her. Their eyes clashed. "Thorne?"

His voice was strained, rough. "You didn't know it was me until just now?"

"I didn't see you."

"You're drunk. Splash your face. Come on, don't make me do it."

She shoved her side against his arm, but he only sighed with exhaustion. He was stronger than her, and they both knew it. Under other circumstances, he wouldn't have put up a fight, but he'd seen just how much this lightweight could not hold her liquor.

"Ugh!" Narrowing her eyes, she twisted back to face the sink. In the mirror, he saw her study the running water, hypnotized. He studied her—the way her wig hid the top of her face with frazzled, glossy, black wisps. Her braids were long enough that one of them tickled his extended arm, and he wanted to rip it off, rip off her pretense. When she broke out of her trance, she reached for the water, and he let his arms relax slightly. She scooped up the water, bending forward.

Then she flung it over her head, splashing Thorne in the face. "I hate you." He closed his eyes. She did it again and again and again, each splatter of water making her angrier.

He finally let go of the sink and moved backwards until he was flush with the door. He slid down, his face dripping wet with the evidence of everything he had ruined. The bathroom floor was cold, filthy, raw. "I hate me too."

"I'm going home with that guy," she drawled.

"Going home with that loser is not going to fix anything." He resisted the urge to cradle his head in his hands. "I would know."

"But it'll be fun," she said, taking a step towards him and nearly falling over herself.

"Stars, Cress. What are you doing? This isn't you. We talked about this—you don't want to be this person."

A loud knocking on the door. "Everything okay in there?"

"Fine!" called Thorne.

"Could you hurry it up?"

"Kinda busy!"

Cress steadied herself on the sink. She waved her free hand up and down her body. "This what guys want, Thorne. This what you want. Sexy women in scantily-clad outfits who'll flirt with you, and dance with you, and boost your ego. Someone you can take home at the end of the night but get rid of before it gets too serious. Then you can give yourself a little gold star of achievement for being a macho guy." She yanked the wig off of her head, revealing her naturally blonde hair matted and damp from sweat. "Guys like you don't want openness and vulnerability. You don't want meaningful time together or commitment."

Thorne wanted to disappear. "I made a mistake, Cress. I regret it. If you won't forgive me, fine. But don't let what I did to you turn you back into this person that you hate. You said you didn't want to hide behind Rapunzel anymore."

She huffed, but he could see she was growing tired. "Easy for you to say. You walk around and any female that passes you wants to immediately get to know you. I saw how other girls looked at you when we went out, then sized me up as if I wasn't worth your time."

So she had noticed. The girls-looking-at-him part, at least. Though even his ego couldn't keep him from recognizing that she was obviously over-exaggerating, he knew that he was attractive and had never had a hard time getting women to notice him. But he had noticed Cress from the first time he'd laid eyes on her.

"I'm not that confident, Cress. I just know how to act like I am. Outwardly, it may seem like it. But—"

She clasped a hand over her mouth. "Kai! My boss! What have you told him? Is he going to fire me for what I did to Sybil?"

Thorne blinked. "I didn't tell anyone about that." Her face turned so ashen that he jumped up from the ground. "Cress, I would never."

"No, no," she said, clutching her stomach, "I'm going to be sick."

She practically threw herself on the ground by the toilet and hurled. He bent down and tried to collect her hair away from her face as she began to sob from the exertion. She was barely tall enough for the toilet though—her face was so close to the seat that she was nearly licking it from her spot on the ground.

Resigning to the fact that this was probably part of his penance, he kneeled, letting his legs sink back onto his heels. Then he pulled Cress onto his thighs—she barely seemed to notice—and scooted them both closer to the toilet before she could throw up again. He shifted up a little, so his legs were angled and she could reach the seat better. He placed a hand on her back to comfort her, but withdrew it just as quickly. The position was already intimate and awkward enough between them, so he just continued holding her hair back as she unearthed everything in her stomach. Every time she wretched, he felt her body shaking against him.

This was his fault.

He tried to focus only on the way his hands felt tangled in her hair again, but the guilt was all-consuming. Her pain became his pain.

"I'm so sorry, Cress," he whispered into her hair. She was dry-heaving though, and he doubt that she'd heard him, which made everything so much worse.

Who was he kidding? Scarlet was right.

He loved Cress.

She had broken him. He loved this vulnerable, messed up, precious girl sitting on top of him. Admitting it was like drinking a quick-killing poison. It spread through his veins like lightning, making the words feel more true with every breath.

He loved her and she didn't love him anymore, but if that meant that he would break every muscle in his legs trying to keep her propped up, then he would do that. He didn't want to be selfish anymore. He wanted to take care of her. It was a strange thing to want that for someone while knowing that he was the one who had made her feel bad in the first place. Well, that and the alcohol combined with some poor decisions on her part as well.

When Cress had finished, she tried to get up but her legs were wobbly and she nearly fell over. He steadied her gently and helped her sit down against the sink. He sat by the door again, afraid to speak, afraid to admit what he had just figured out. Maybe he didn't want to be selfish anymore, but he clearly wasn't ready to stop being a coward yet. They just stayed silent, with only Thorne answering the people who continued to knock on the door.

When Cress lifted her head to look at him, her face was still pale and tear-streaked.

"Too many shots will do that to you," he joked.

"Are you going to leave me trapped in here all night? Or are you just waiting to see if I go into hysterics from claustrophobia again?"

He recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "I was just trying to help."

"I want to go home," she said flatly.

"Okay," he said, getting up and extending his hand. "I'll drive you home."

"I've been there. And you're over-rated, frankly." Her words stung almost as much as her choice to push herself off the ground without his help. "So thanks for holding back my hair, but I'll pass on the puppy dog eyes and the mask of charm you wear so fiercely but so falsely."

"Cress, I'm trying to be sincere. I want to make sure you get home safe. I want to make sure you're okay."

She snorted. "Why bother?"

He took a deep breath, letting go of the coward too. "I think I might…love you." It came out uncertain and shaky and a pitch too high, and it was not his finest moment at all.

Much worse than his fumbled and pathetic confession was her bored response. "You don't even know what love is. You said so yourself."

They were not the words he'd been hoping to hear. Not all. He stepped away from the door so she could pass. "You're right."

She paused on her way out the doorway. "I threw away those buttons that you always hated, by the way." Her voice became bitter. "Figured you'd appreciate that."

He didn't follow her out of the bathroom. He stayed put, hoping to put as much distance between them as possible. When he dared exit, once again wearing his poker-face, a few girls gave him icy glares.

"Get a room next time, will you?" said one of them.

"That's so disgusting," said another.