The Roleplay Corollary

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There is something strange about sitting on a bus. There you are, surrounded by a cluster of people, and you realise that you might have something in common with at least half of them. Who knows, your soulmate might even be amongst them. Not that I think there is a soul made for mine on the bus on this particular day. All I see is a pair of young girls chatting about something that gives way for a whole lot of laughter, a man who's asleep and probably passed his stop about an hour ago. Then there's the old woman sitting next to me, her arms firmly wrapped around a bag of groceries, and of course the slightly obese bus driver who keeps checking the side mirror as to ensure that no funny business is going on on his bus. I wonder if the woman placed herself next to me in the hopes that I would start a conversation. After all, she could have sat just about anywhere else. I'm kind of glad that I had to sell my car to keep my budget from completely falling apart. If I hadn't, I would have missed out on all of these semi-philosophical thoughts that somehow seem to ground themselves in my mind the moment I step onto the bus. Had I been in a car, I wouldn't be thinking of the sleeping man or the grocery lady - I would be thinking about my own problems.

Specifically, problem.

I don't know what got into Raj yesterday, but I'm hoping that it was a temporary reaction, and that he today is back to being his own, lovely self. I would of course have preferred to have told him of my job opportunity myself. God damned Barry.

At the university, I head straight to Raj's office.
"Morning, Raj," I say, carefully, not sure where we stand but positive that he has cooled down from yesterday. He doesn't turn his head. Instead, he's facing the board, as if deep in thought.
"Morning," I try once more, willing to consider that maybe he's simply too absorbed in his thoughts to hear me coming in. This time, he raises his head slightly, still focusing utterly on the board. Oh, so that's how it's going to be. I bite my lip and strip out of my jacket. How childish of him, really, to put up this attitude rather than face me. I go to stand beside him, crossing my arms, eyes on the board. Our work shouldn't be hindered simply because Raj chooses to act like a childish brat.

At lunch, Raj and I still haven't spoken. Sheldon and Howard are sitting next to each other, seemingly in a heated discussion. As we approach and sit down, I opposite Sheldon, the dispute doesn't conclude.

"I can't believe you would even consider such monstrous a thing!" Sheldon bellows. "Have you no respect? Have you no regard for honour and tradition?" he continues, with Howard shaking his head in relinquishment, poking at his food.
"Thankfully, pleasing you isn't on my to-do-list for today," Howard retorts. "It's happening," he says and turns to Sheldon, letting his face be increasingly closer to his, to which Sheldon obviously draws back. "and there is nothing you can do to stop it,"
"What can't Sheldon stop?" I ask, wondering what kind of scientific uncertainty they're discussing this time.
"He's buying a cheap, knock-off version of a Borg-drone costume!" Sheldon replies, with disdain apparent in his tone, pointing his finger at Howard.
"Don't you already have a Borg-drone costume?" I ask, sticking my fork into a tomato on my plate. "Didn't you use it for Comic Con?" Howard looks down, scratching his ear. Sheldon turns to look at him.
"Yes, Howard, don't you already have one? Why would you exchange a quality Borg-drone costume with a cheap knock-off? One would think that you-" Sheldon stops mid-sentence and gapes with an astonished sound. "Is it... hurt? Did you harm it?" he asks, holding his breath without blinking. Howard keeps his gaze locked on his plate.
"Well?" I ask. Howard looks up at us and finally sighs.
"Fine. I... broke it," he admits. Sheldon releases a loud groan.
"How, Howard, how? Did your mom not wash it by itself? Did she overindulge in her usage of detergent?" he asks.
"My mother never uses too much detergent, she is an excellent washer!" Howard retorts. "No... one night Bernadette and I decided to engage in a little... role play..." Howard explains, and Sheldon groans once more, looking away with a shake of his head. I look to Raj who has a disturbed look on his face. I myself try to suppress a chuckle.
"So, you were dressed as a Borg-drone? What about Bernadette? Did you go with the Catholic school girl as per usual?" I ask, earning a hard look from Sheldon.
"No... Bernadette was wearing the Worf-costume," Howard tells, trying to hide his mouth in his hand. Raj has an even more disturbed look on his face now, and Sheldon looks like a statuette with an open mouth and a pair of dilated eyes.
"And how did you break it then?" I press on.
"Well-" Howard begins.
"Oh, who cares! It's ruined!" Sheldon interrupts. "And you should be wise as to keep our friendship from being ruined as well," Howard and I chuckle. Sheldon sighs.
"We looked great last Comic Con,"

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