“Obviously,” Darren said. “You were burning for me. Can I finish, please?”
“Fine. But you’d better get it right this time.”)
The Queen was sobbing in his arms.
(“Darren!”)
The Queen was kind of crying a little bit in his arms. Darren didn’t know what to do. He thought maybe he should just turn around and walk away. It’d be easier. His life had been hard and filled with man pain and suffering. He was a lone wolf. A solitary creature. A man on a mission to be alone, to never have to give his cold metal heart away to another for fear it be returned, shattered beyond repair.
“Baby,” Darren said. “We don’t have time for those tears. It’ll do us both no good. Dry those eyes before you break.”
“But, Darren,” the Queen cried. “I can’t help it! When I’m around you, all I want to do is scream for you to take me. Take me because I’ve always been yours. Why can’t you just look at me and love me!”
Darren took a step back, trying to put some distance between the two of them. The Queen was beautiful, yes, and maybe his cold metal heart was starting to beat once more, but he didn’t know if he could take the chance. The risk might be far too great. He had a past, a dark past that could threaten to overwhelm the both of them if—
(“Okay,” I said. “Seriously. What the hell are you even talking about?”
“My dark past and man pain,” Darren said as if I was stupid. “I’m setting the scene to show why I was so reluctant to get involved but you were crying and sad when I was just trying to push you away to protect you.”
“Dark past and man pain?”
“How much of this actually happened?” Corey whispered to Paul.
“Seventy percent,” Paul whispered back. “No. Wait. Twenty-three percent.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about your dark past and man pain?” Vince asked, sounding confused. “I mean, I knew all about the way you wanted—”
“Wanted to forget all about the dark past and man pain,” Darren interrupted. “That’s exactly right. Thanks, Vince. For bringing that up. At this moment.”
Vince stared at him funny.
Paul just sighed.
“You know what?” I said. “No. Just no. You are not turning my love story into your soliloquy of mangst.”
Soliloquy of mangst, Darren mouthed to Vince, who just shrugged. “And what happened to this being our love story?”
“Yeah, you gave up that right as soon as you started telling a shit story.”
“A shit story? Now wait just a goddamn—”
“Nope. Sorry. No time to listen to you. What really happened was that the Queen—”)
The Queen saw the Homo Jock King was starting to break down. She was supremely embarrassed for him, so, for lack of a better option, she dragged him by the arm and up the stairs into the Queen’s Lair. She hoped he understood just how important it was for him to be up here, because she normally didn’t let a commoner such as him into her sacred space.
(“Yeah, except you already did let him in your sacred space, if you know
what I mean.”
“Shut up, Corey!”)
Once the Homo Jock King, a broken, beaten-down shell of a man, realized where he stood, he looked back toward the Queen, who stood regally on her balcony, surveying her minions below.
“What place is this?” he asked her.
“This is my lair,” she said, a breeze blowing and making her hair and gowns billow around her.
(“Wait, why were things billowing? And why the hell were you wearing a gown? You know what? You weren’t even Helena when we found you in the Lair. Shouldn’t you be calling yourself Sandy?”