A little surprised, Erin hesitated. Honestly, she’d not expected Tyson to care to even ask. She had almost forgotten that she was supposed to be terrified at this point. Maybe she was pushing the reality away too hard. As a plus, she hadn’t been Puppeted once, just warned. 

“My mom lives just outside the city proper, in Hedgeford. Most of the rest of my family don’t live near here. Most of my mom’s family is south of here in Georgia. I was born and raised here.” To avoid continuing to talk about herself, she started to ask about Tyson’s family - even if she already knew most of his back story - when Rex interrupted.

“Wait, what about your father? Single mom?” His tone wasn’t quite judgmental, but Erin wasn’t feeling very charitable. 

Why in fuck should he care? He didn’t even have family in this world. Protagonists literally had no family at all, except for the people the Plot Puppeted for them, and eighty percent of Protagonists had no close family relatives stolen to fit their cut-out history. Tragic backstories were very, very common.

Erin’s eyes narrowed. She glanced at Janey, who was at least chagrined. She wasn’t precisely sure why. Did Janey remember what happened to Erin’s father? 

She wasn’t sure she kept the anger from her glare as she answered, “My father passed away when I was fifteen.” Erin saw no reason to elaborate further. It had been before Ennui started to show up anyway. 

“My parents died when I was young. I lived with my aunt and uncle for a while, until… well,” Tyson shook his head. “Anyway. I sympathize. I was barely old enough to remember my parents well. I am sure it would have been tougher to lose them when I was older.” Tyson acted a sincere game and looked eager to steer the topic away. Or perhaps he was actually sympathetic. Erin didn’t usually believe Tyson intended malice, even as a Protagonist. Putting her in this situation was testing her beliefs, though.

Erin nodded, trying very hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Thanks.” Tyson’s backstory was relatively complete, well-managed, and consistent. His words were hollow lies, but Tyson pretended to care enough that Erin’ fury subsided enough to going back to pretend politeness.

Most Protagonists were happy with a flimsy paragraph’s worth of history to satisfy standard questions. Erin had doubts that Rex had thought half a sentence’s worth. None of them were real. All Protagonists entered the world tabula rasa until they made up their own story and the Plot filled things in to compensate.

About a tenth of Protagonists were discovered before they ever debut on a Plot Night, reported by people like ‘Circus_Maximus’ because one day a protagonist just walks into a job and acts like they’ve always been there. The most famous case of this occurred when a previously unmarried US congressmember woke up married to a man he’d never met before.

The congressman became a full Pawn two weeks later, and was assassinated before his term was up. 

It was such a very important character development moment for the Protagonist, Erin was sure.

“- and that’s what I told the guy. Pretty sure he pissed his pants before running down the street.” Rex had been regaling them with a tale about how he told off a punk who’d apparently been flirting with his gym’s receptionist. Erin had only half listened. Rex placed his glass on the table, a little harder than necessary, breaking the short pause at the table. “You know this-” he gestured vaguely, “place has damned good beer, if nothing else.”

Janey, braver than Erin, forged ahead. “I’m glad you liked it. That brand is actually from a local brewery. I have a friend who works there.” She sipped her wine. “I am sure I could get you a tour of the place if you like one day.”

Erin didn’t know about this friend, and wondered if the Plot was trying to somehow… channel Rex’s personality towards something less incongruous. Tyson added, “Yeah, when you’ve got your place settled, I’ll organize a pub crawl with my friends.”

Erin rolled her eyes as the others watched the waiter, who’d had just brought another beer to the table.

She’d caught the eye of a woman at another table. Erin had seen the woman glance at their table a few times, staring in particular at Tyson. The pretty, bookish woman must have realized who Erin was eating with. She saw Erin’s exasperated expression at the oblique reference to the Cavalry by Tyson and choked momentarily on a piece of bread, trying not to laugh.

Erin immediately regretted the interaction as Tyson, Janey and Rex turned to check on the woman who’d choked. Everyone at the woman’s table had a stiff look, like they were unsure how to react, or were unable to react properly, possibly with the Plot in control.

The poor woman recovered long enough to swallow and shake her head, trying to brush off their concern. When Tyson and Rex looked away, the woman’s face looked ashen with sick fear. She didn’t look over again.

The waiter offered to take their order, and Tyson started. “I think I will have to go with the lamb pilaf.”

Janey said, “Oh, I will go wild, and try the beef tenderloin salad. Medium, please.”

Erin shrugged. “I’ll take the ocean special.” She’d always been partial to snapper.

“Porterhouse steak, the biggest one you have in back. Very rare. Blue.”

The waiter nodded. “Blue, it is. Thank you and tell me if there is anything else I can bring you.”

The waiter walked away, and it was quiet at the table a moment before Erin pulled out one of those conversation cards she typically held in reserve, some of those cliché questions to fill any silence. “So Tyson, what sort of hobbies do you have?”

There, that was easy. Erin made her contributions; hopefully, the Plot would leave her alone. Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to get out of this dinner still Erin Razor. She’d loathe a pet name like ‘Rin’ or something.

Tyson motioned noncommittally. “Oh not much, really. I am pretty boring myself. I like history and I’ve been doing a lot of research into metalworking lately. I’d love to do more of it someday. My uncle did blacksmithing for those Renaissance Fair things?” Tyson smiled shyly, embarrassed, though Erin was transfixed with Tyson’s almost self-conscious concern for Rex’s response. “Not easy to do that with a loft apartment. I also work out some, but not as much as Rex.”

Rex’s pecs flexed, no doubt a conscious effort from him, as ghehumbly bragged, “Well, I would be setting a bad example if I didn’t work out more. It's my job. I am King Gyms.”

Erin nodded politely and motioned for him to continue. She had the feeling that Rex and she had started the kind of relationship that results in mutual dislike and barbed comments, but she wouldn’t escalate. 

Rex continued, his deep voice still a little loud for just boasting to their table alone. “Yeah, I own over thirty King Gyms along the West Coast. All top of the line, but the market is easy there. Everyone on the West Coast is ready and willing to work out to look beautiful. I wanted a challenge. So I figured I’d expand my empire here. Maybe write a book and start an exercise line. You know, simple stuff. Not sure Meridian City is going to be big enough for me.”

Erin started to say wryly ‘Spectacular’, but the Plot stopped her, the word choking in her throat, electricity coming out of nowhere. It was a terrifying moment, frozen on the spot, the Plot rearing its ugly head and reminding her to behave. The tingle seizing her throat began to fade, but she was worried she had a look on her face.

She instead spat out the word, “Impressive.” The pause made it seem more ugly than she intended, so she added, trying to sound sincere, “What motivated you to create a gym empire?”

Rex seemed confused for a moment. “Motivated? I mean, it just came to me, naturally.” He seemed to recover, but the disconnect from his “character” backstory clearly threw him off. “I wanted it, and so it happened. Most people don’t understand that kind of drive and skill.”

His smile was a bit of a sneer to cover up his stumble, but his eyes were radiating anger that didn’t match the magnitude of the slight. If Erin didn’t know that he could, in fact, kill her with a stare using his powers, she’d still be a little alarmed. 

Protagonists all had varying levels of acting skill, but Rex stood out as someone who kept forgetting he was on the stage. Protagonists who were bad actors tended to be the most destructive, most invasive ones. By all rights, Erin should have lost control at this point as part of the Plot’s accommodating nature.

Pawns like Janey wouldn’t notice the specific inconsistencies, but everyone else would. That uncanny valley was a yawning maw of unreality where everything was wrong with these outsiders. When they first appeared, most people thought that the Protagonists were aliens, monsters that wore human skin, and these moments fed the idea.

Tyson spoke up, filling the void, “Well, I am going on a business trip to the Big Capital - New York, New York - in a week to square a business deal with some military contractor. If you have time, I know my way around that city as well. You could scout out your next expansion.”

“I’ll think about it,” Rex said, not sounding too interested. 

Tyson motioned to Erin. “So what kind of hobbies do you have?”

Her turn again? Why couldn’t she just be polite and quiet all night.

Erin was contemplating Rex’s vicious flash of malice moments earlier, which had faded as he remembered his drink, and hesitated before answering. Janey spoke up first. “Oh! Erin does web design and hosting stuff as a side thing! I can never remember what exactly it entails, but she can tell you more.” Janey offered a motion to Erin, as if gratefully handing off the topic.

Erin forgot about her concern about Rex as she was suddenly cast above a different pit, scrambling for the edge.

“Oh, it's not so impressive, and hosting websites is really more about answering emails from website owners worrying about traffic or downtime. I’ve mostly stopped and I never really did all that much web design after college. I also do all my work on my bike to keep him running.”

The last thing Erin wanted was to talk about the forums and servers she ran-... used to run. For one, if the Protagonists investigated, she’d be threatening the lives of every single person on them. If, say, the Ferret got interested enough to find out what was on the forums, they would become twisted and malformed to suit the Plot and Erin would be to blame. “So, Tyson, how do you and Rex know each other?”

Tyson seemed to accept the non-sequitur transition of topic, and began regaling them with a tale of one of his business trips to the West Coast for Divinilogic. Erin listened with more gusto than she had to previous discussions, desperate to appear engaged in this topic. The conversation went from there to Tyson and Rex talking back and forth about exercising again. Rex was very slightly more polite when arguing with Tyson, but not much. 

There were even a couple more oblique references to their role as… whatever they were, but only Tyson seemed to be concerned if either Janey or Erin noticed. Janey was, as her character demanded, oblivious, and Erin mimicked her in a state of polite interest while they talked. 

When their food arrived, everyone focused on their food, and the topics turned to other restaurants in the city. Conversation relaxed a little, though part of that might have been because Rex was on his fourth beer. Erin noticed that Tyson had motioned to the waiter to not bring any more when Rex wasn’t looking.

Erin had a stress headache at this point, and her back was stiff with tension. Dinner finally did end and the waiter brought Tyson alone the check.

Rex gave a short “Hey!” while Erin eyed Janey, who had the good graces to appear contrite. Erin had requested that she pay for her own meal before coming, and was about to protest herself.

Tyson waved off their protests. “Listen, we invited you both out here. It seems only fair that I take care of the bill. I’d like to do something like this again. Next time can be either of yours’s treat, is that fair?”

Rex looked less ruffled after this, and his attitude was a little easier going after four beers and he smiled. “Fine, fine. But I am going to take you out somewhere even nicer than this, with better cooked steak.” He’d requested they take it back and cook it properly, and Erin could tell it was practically well done when it came back out.

Erin at least offered, “Could I cover the tip, at least? I have cash.” She really didn’t want to be indebted to Tyson for a whole meal, but Rex gave her that look again, like she’d slighted him by thinking of the offer before him.

Tyson didn’t notice and waved off the offer. “No, no. I have it handled.”

She relented. At least Rex couldn’t claim she owed him anything. “Alright. I am going to the bathroom then.”

Erin had to clench her nearly shaking fists as she entered the bathroom, high on adrenaline and success. When she moved to wash her hands, she paused, letting the water run, and took a deep breath.

She was alive. Protagonists be damned, she was alive, herself, and unchanged.

She met the three of them at the elevators, Rex and Tyson quietly talking, and Janette smiling at her, some sense of apology on her face, perhaps for the awkward dinner arrangements. It was a surprisingly self-aware moment for a Pawn, but Erin had noticed Janey was pretty complex. Probably necessary to act as a significant other for a Protagonist. 

In the elevator, Erin caught Rex staring at her in the mirrored walls, but he gave a bland smile as their eyes met. She looked away.

“Well,” Tyson started for everyone, as they left the lobby into the warm summer evening, “thank you both for coming. Sorry the meal couldn’t have been better for you, Rex.”

“No no. I’ve had worse.” Rex was still looking at Erin a little more than she would have liked, but she stared resolutely at Tyson.

“Thanks for inviting me out. It was nice to meet you, Rex. Good to have a meal with friends,” Erin said neutrally.

“For sure, Erin, it's been good to get to know you better. We all should do it again in some fashion,” Tyson offered.

“Yes! Definitely!” Janey said, smiling brightly and pulling Erin in for a surprise hug. While they embraced - Erin stiff - Janey whispered, “Thanks,” which was wholly unnecessary, like the hug, but seemed genuine enough for a Pawn. Erin's skin crawled, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of Janey being a Pawn or just Erin being averse to close contact with other women who didn’t know she wasn’t straight.

They separated, and after a few more rounds of goodbyes and an offer by Rex to take them all out to a bar - Erin declined - they went their separate ways, Erin back to the parking garage, where her bike waited at that brushed steel wall. 

Once she was around the corner and out of sight, she nearly skipped towards the parking garage, her heart ecstatic again at the clean escape. Erin didn’t skip, typically, but she was more than happy to seriously consider it as she took the stairs up to the second floor where her bike was.

She nodded to a tired-sounding man standing not too far away, talking on the phone while staring at a big ding in his SUV’s driver side door. She couldn’t tell if the older, balding gentleman was talking to insurance or someone else, but he sounded more resigned than upset. She could relate. That’s how she felt all this week, until dinner seemed to end so well.

Erin worked to unlock her helmet from the bike, when she heard the man on the phone, sounding suddenly stricken, ended the call with, “I… I’ll call you back.” The way his tone changed caught Erin’s attention. 

The man was staring at someone else who had joined them in the parking garage. Light slid over them in sheets as they walked from one pool of fluorescent light into another. The person was tall, wearing a button up shirt that hid an impossible number of abs. Rex stared at her like she was a possum he’d found in his kitchen trash. Confusion mixed with outrage.

Erin felt a cold wash of fear, not unlike that first time Tyson had found her, alone, barely more than a week ago, in her cube, but much, much worse.