𝐷𝑜𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛, 𝑂𝑥𝑦𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑛- 𝑅𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒

𝐹𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟- 𝐴𝑟𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒?

The words rotting upon the paper had made her think about things a bit more- if that was even possible.

She had decided, through the deep ponder of it all, that she was going to treat Nancy as if she was currently just as confused as she once was.

Robin knew all too well that the new discovery of it made you go mad- made your nights sleepless, made your mood shit.
So, perhaps the whole action of it was nothing but impulse- a quick relief and a quick answer.

But it was only an assumption.

All of it was very repetitive- and it felt as though she was falling into the pit of denial that she was in all those years ago.

But no, not again. She'd not let herself.

Six p.m had passed, seven p.m had passed, and eight p.m was fast approaching. She had put on a relaxed outfit- nice enough for a venture out, but comfortable enough incase she wanted to skate.

She knew that she probably wouldn't though, since she was practically the human equivalent of Bambi-on-ice- which was not something to be revealing to the public, even though everyone already knew that she was unsteady on her feet.

Steve had agreed to meet her there, since the rink wasn't too far away in distance when on her bike, so she pulled it out for the first time in a while and took her seat- and additionally, even though she always swore to the 'safety first' rule, Robin left her helmet behind. Hat-hair was not needed in the instance.

-

Golden sun was setting, leaving a dusky glow onto the roads and the houses. It was the only kind of weather Buckley really tended to like in summer; the point in the day where the world seemed nothing but still.

The ride had been peaceful, escorted with deep breaths and relaxing tendencies. She had tried not to think about what she was actually doing; simply pushing through the action with nothing but admiration for the sky above.

As expected, when she arrived, the roller rink was the normal amount of busy- oddly placed couples and friend groups milling around on the inside, laughing and cheering in their stride.
Robin slowed down on her bike, dismounting and rolling it beside her in the parking lot. She sauntered over to the racks, linked in her vehicle, and made a curved direction in through the glass doorway.

The space inside was just how she had remembered it- skate counter by the entrance, a rink filling most of the space, and then a bar-cafeteria on the side. As soon as she entered, she could see Steve perched beside one of the tables, waiting patiently for Heidi to arrive- or come back from the bathroom- Robin didn't know yet.

He had spotted Buckley, too, and gave a quick smile and nod in her direction. Robin tilted her head forward in return, reassuring his presence.

Turning towards the entry counter, the worker placed on-stand miserably greeted the newcomer.

"Hey." He spoke, voice flat and barely toned.

"Hi." She replied.

"Tall- blondish hair, about the same age... yeah, you've been prepaid for."

Robin blinked. It had completely slipped her mind that she would've had to pay, but it seemed that Steve had already thought a lot further ahead than she had.

"Oh- uh- I guess so? Thanks."
She made a glance towards Harrington who chuckled at her expression. He shook his head as he turned away.

"What size skates?" The man asked, gesturing towards the cabinet behind him.

Buckley pursed her lips, putting one of her hands in her pocket.
"Erm, a nine, please."

"Sure thing." He nodded, turning backwards to grab the nearest pair of nines. "Here you go."

"Thanks."
The reply was sort of ungenuine, lacking the respect for the obviously not-wanting-to-be-there worker.
She grabbed her skates.

"Enjoy."
The staff member made his final word before tilting his head down to cross the woman's name from the paper.
But then, as the said guest was walking away, he spoke again.

"Wait-"

Buckley turned, surprised at the continuation.

"-aren't you meant to be with someone else? Two people have been paid for."

Nancy.
Robin's stomach did a flip.

"Oh, uh, yeah, she'll be here any minute- probably."

"Sure thing."

Those simple few words had unearthed the entirety of nerve that Robin had hidden until that point. She supposed that it was helpful to ease herself into the shock that she'd be feeling soon enough, though. Piling on all of the nerve at once was never a good idea.

Since the conversation had ended for certain, Buckley wandered further into the venue, both skates held tight under arm. She still had her spare hand in her pocket, making the best attempt to come across as someone who was totally calm in their situation.

Most members in the building were hurling around the linoleum flooring already, so dodging people by staying in the beverage area was easy enough.

Like Robin had mentioned to Steve beforehand, it had been a while since she had visited.

It was a clear memory- the way she had sat alone on a barstool, red basket of curly fries placed on the table before her. Her friends had been having fun behind, and she had been sitting quietly, regretting being dragged along at all.

It was funny how history tended to repeat itself, so, it seemed only right to embrace it and head towards the very seat that she had claimed previously.

It looked to be the same exact one- leathered red with a scar-type gash along the middle, legs made out of the same, sturdy wood.

The padding shrunk beneath her weight as she sat, adjusting to her position as she made herself comfortable.

When she was settled, Robin turned towards where Steve was waiting. He was peering across to the bathroom to smile at the woman who was emerging from it. Turns out that Heidi had already arrived, and like usual, Nancy was the last to show up.

She took a deep breath.

"Can I help you?" A voice then spoke from beside, snapping her out of whatever trance she was in.

Robin turned back to the bar only to face a slightly older looking man than the one before.

"Oh- um, yeah- could I order a drink, please?"

He stared at her and nodded into the words, awaiting an order, but an order never came.
"Uh... yeah? Alcohol, soft drink?"

Buckley looked at him, slightly embarrassed that she didn't notice him awaiting her request.
"Erm, no alcohol, I'm underage."

The sentence came paired with an awkward huff, eyes darting anywhere but the bartender.

"Noted. My apologies."

"I'll just take a lemonade."

The worker nodded.
"Coming right up."

Robin painfully smiled at the acknowledgment and tilted her head down, sliding a few dollar notes out of her pocket and onto the counter in front of her.