Oh My God, They Were Roommates

15 | Careless Whisper

Sora, David, and Ambrose left the theater in a march not unlike school children being escorted to the principle's office—albeit reluctantly on Ambrose's part, as the rat bastard sat stationary until Charlie physically wrenched him out of the seat and shoved him ahead of the group.

Charlie's rough man-handling of Ambrose only had Sora dreading the moment when the silence would break, and it didn't break until they were in the lobby for all the world to hear.

Well, perhaps just the theater workers refilling the popcorn machine.

"Charlie—" David started, dejected, and Charlie shot up a hand to silence him.

They all remained quiet. Charlie went on staring out at the front doors of the lobby. The clock was ticking. They had approximately seven minutes—the precise amount of time a scene in a movie was supposed to extend, and the exact amount of time before Ray would grow worried that his date up and left him in the theater.

Sora didn't like the idea of that, but it was a far better outcome to Ray finding out he was a stripper.

"None of you," Charlie started, and his voice was so loud in comparison to the lobby's silence that David flinched. Sora was used to being yelled at, and Ambrose just seemed unfazed by everything.

Ambrose put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and said, dully, "None of us what, exactly?"

David looked as though Ambrose had just facilitated a stroke. He put a hand frantically to his forehead and hissed, "Dude, don't piss him off—"

"David's right," Charlie said, completely calm.

David peeked between his fingers. "Really?"

"Yes, because I'm ALREADY PISSED OFF!" Charlie screamed. Sora rubbed his ear and David nearly fainted. Ambrose blinked.

Charlie threw his hands up to his hat and paced away, towards the startled employees, and back again. He gestured frantically at Sora, who pointed a finger to himself as Charlie said, "Seriously, why the fuck are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at the club?"

"I got someone to cover for me," Sora said. "Why the fuck are you on a date with a freshmen, anyway?"

"I'd be a freshmen, too, if I went to college! Which I didn't, because I like to make cash," Charlie seethed, slapping his hand to his palm like he was about to beat Sora's ass. "So that I can pay for my dates like a sugar daddy! That's the energy I want, and y'all are fucking it right up the asshole!"

"I thought the energy you wanted was to have a sugar daddy," David said, cowering.

Charlie cracked the back of his hand against his palm and David yelped, "Oh God!" when Charlie pointed directly at him and cried, "Ding ding ding! We have a goddamn winner! My fucking God, you're a genius!"

David put a hand to his chest to calm himself before saying, "There's no need to yell."

Charlie eyed them all furiously. "All of you need to leave. I don't give a shit if you wasted twenty bucks on a ticket for this—don't mess this up for me."

With that, he turned on his heels and stormed back to the theater down the hall. Sora watched him go, fully mortified. He put a hand to his head and regretted sitting with Ambrose and David. Maybe this plan would have worked if he really did go solo on this mission.

No, he thought, overwhelmed by the frantic, desperate energy to stop Charlie from going back in there.

Sora stomped his foot in frustration before taking off jogging after Charlie. Charlie slowed his steps the second he heard his pursuer approaching, and when he turned, he did so with a fist raised specifically to punch someone tall in the arm. Instead, he came back short with Sora standing there looking emo as fuck in his black wig.