Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-33305666-20190220042908/@comment-36855838-20190220171536

She enters, like I knew she would.

"Hello."

She blinks, confused, and momentarily shocked out of her rage.

"I see you've got a backstage pass there, let me show you around. . ."

She goes wide-eyed as I motion to my wardrobe.

"This is my wardrobe, I keep various suits and ties here-"

"That's a dumpster."

As I motion for her to sit, she looks at the seat in disgust so I take it.

"Why are you sitting on a garbage can?"

She's begun to cry.

"Are you alright? I know fans are a bit disappointed when they find out star life's not so glamorous, but come on, this is a quality armchair!"

She reels back, horrified realization on her features.

"Oh, my god, I broke you!"

She rushes to me, reaching out.

"H-hey, hands off the leather jacket! This is expensi-"

"You're in a bathrobe, steve."

She picks me up.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please, forgive me, I-"

"Are you okay?"

She just cries more.

We're getting nowhere.