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He was still drunk, to an impressive degree. He'd stumbled back down the stairs without falling, and he was pretty proud of the achievement - but as soon as he made it to the dorms, he stopped at his dorm room, and stared at the door, pressing his hand against it.

She was inside. Waiting for him. Asleep, on his bed, just like he'd left her. Gloriously naked, and beautiful, and trusting despite all the reasons she had to never trust him again. And on her hand, she wore his ring.

Robert sunk down to one knee for a moment, and wallowed in self-hate for as long as he could afford.

When he pushed himself back up off his feet, he knew exactly what he had to do to make things right. He just had to talk it all out, that was all. Talk it out with someone he trusted, and lay his stupid, clearly inebriated desires out in the open, before pushing them aside and going back to real life. That sounded like a healthy way to deal with stupidity. And he trusted no one more than Jordan - he only hoped his boss didn't hate him for having to deal with him drunk twice in one week.

There was a gentle, but insistent tapping and scratching at Jordan's door a few minutes later. It didn't pause, it was just a continuous taptaptaptapscratchscratchscratchtaptap-

Jordan was a welcome sight. Nothing about him made Robert feel anything but ease and comfort. He was his best friend, his brother, and most importantly, he didn't remind Robert of any of the women in his life. This was of course ironic, but Robert wasn't going to say so out loud - drunk he may be, but not that drunk.

"Sup boss." Robert grumbled in a greeting, as he slumped inside and closed the door behind him. "Mind if I chill here for a bit? I need a safe place to get all my stupid out." That being said, he crumpled up into a heap on the floor, as if he'd just been shot dead. His eyes were open, however, and he stared up at the ceiling.

"Jordan," He murmured softly, and wondered at the sound of the name. He didn't know the last time he'd called his boss by his real name. "I'm so ******** up."

Jordan had said all of a handful of sentences, but it was exactly what Robert needed. Those words soothed his soul, and reminded him that he wasn't all bad. Maybe just bad at relationships, but not all bad.

"Thanks, boss." Robert sniffed out, his eyes turning over to look at him. "You have no idea how good that makes me feel."

He just wished it was enough.

Despite how absolutely sloshed Robert looked, the inevitable question came. "You got any liquor in this place? I'm looking to drink until I'm unconscious, and that might take a while."

"I don't deserve a pillow." He growled, turning so his head was on the floor, instead of looking up at his friend. "I deserve a coffin. A nice old one, with rusty nails and maybe some maggots already inside."

If that hadn't answered Jordan's question, Robert confirmed it with a solid, "Yeah. I need to be out that bad."

Robert turned over to his side, so that he could at least breathe while he talked.

"Well, the short version is I think I have feelings for someone that isn't Petra." He could have left it there, but Robert never left anything at the short version.

"The long part is ******** ridiculous." So of course he was going to tell Jordan every damn detail. "So I heard Jerry breaking s**t in his room earlier, right? I go check up on him, because for some god-damned reason, I think I should. It turns out, he's drinking his life away and destroying his guitar because he walked in on Dr. H sticking his noodle in Candace's meatball marinara." Worst. Analogy. Ever. "So you know, I try to help him out, whatever, and we go trolling for some liquor."

Robert rolled onto his back again, perhaps because rolling around made him feel better. It wasn't clear. "I know where the best liquor is. That's the only reason I chose her room. I swear to you, boss, that's the only reason."

He felt like he was trying to explain his guilt away to Jordan, as if he'd cheated on the man. It was awkward.

Jordan was a good friend. Robert had honestly been counting on the previous news to outweigh the stupidity he was going through. After all, he knew deep down Candace and Jerry's relationship was way more ******** than his, right now. But somehow, Jordan outshined his expectations, and kept on task of the problems of the person in front of him. It was pretty ******** intense.

"Clarice." Even as he said it, he laughed at how stupid it sounded, and maybe that was exactly what he needed. Just to say it out loud. Him, have feelings for Clarice. What was he even thinking? That couldn't be right. It must have been the liquor talking. It had to be.

Please, God, let it have been the liquor, and not the way she looked at him when she truly believed in him.

"She's up there in a towel with Clerise. In a ******** towel. I'd like to request that you kick me until I'm unconscious now, boss."

"NO!" Robert practically screamed the denial, lurching to sit up straight, only to regret it as his head swam with pain. He pinched his face up and held his head in his hands, while he repeated the word with a soft whine in his voice. "No, nothing happened, I mean I think Jerry tried to make out with Clarice but he was drunk and I can't blame him."

But he had blamed him, at the moment. And that was why he had to leave.

"I left him up there with the girls, Clarice and CLEHrise. New Life trainee. Names are gonna be a problem, soon." His eyes opened, blinked away the pain of sitting up, and looked up at Jordan with outstandingly puppy dog eyes.

"I left, boss. I knew when things got dangerous, and I left." He looked like he wanted a cookie for doing the right thing, even when drunk. "Not that I ever had a chance with her, but it doesn't- it doesn't matter. Right?"

"I did the right thing." He repeated, slowly making his way back down to the floor to lie there and sulk. "Except I work with her, boss. Every damn day. It was easier with Roberta. She was never there. She-" He blinked, and a lot of realizations hit him at once. "She was never there for me." He'd been holding on to some elevated image of the girl he'd once thought he loved, when in fact, thinking about it now, he couldn't even understand what he'd been thinking. Was it just the thrill of being in love with your best friend? The way she always told him about the life she was living, and made him feel like he was living it as well? Roberta had made his blood boil with excitement. She had made him feel alive. But when he thought about love, there was a sudden, heart-wrenching conclusion coming through his liquor befuddled mine.

Roberta excited him. But he hadn't loved her. He loved Petra.

And for the first time in his life, Robert understood what that word really meant.

He smiled unexpectedly at Jordan, and wiped tears from his eyes that he hadn't known had fallen. "You know what, boss?" His voice cracked in emotion. "I think it's gonna be all right, after all."

He felt something for Clarice. She excited him. And she made him feel like he was special. But he didn't love her. He loved Petra.

And that wasn't going to change anytime soon.