Hard knocks

[morevacant]

It's official. She's failed out of uni. Lydia Bennet, the thick sister of the bunch. The useless one. The disappointment.

Well, her mum won't be disappointed, once Lydia tells her about Cesare. She will quite understand that Lydia spent the time she should have been studying for her exams in Cesare's hotel making him happy. When Lydia tells her. Right now, Lydia doesn't dare: her mum is the biggest gossip and it will take two minutes for word of her and Cesare will be everywhere.

Lydia heads for her favourite haunt, a cosy Starbucks close by. She fancies an extra large double shotted caramel macchiato. What she actually gets is a small tea. Because she's broke. She's failed and she's broke.

Why is life so hard?

Comments

[falsify]

Starbucks isn't his preferred haunt, he's a snob who much prefers old cafés off the main road that've been in the family forever, but it's quick and he needs a double espresso more than he needs good coffee.

He's paying up when he sees a positively miserable lookinf girl get a tea and slump into a seat, and Eames can't help but wonder if Cesare finally did something smart and ended it.

"Lydia, isn't it?" Eames stops by her table, voice soft, expression concerned, and body language open, "sorry to bother you, but-- are you okay?"

[morevacant]

"Do I know you?" Lydia looks up, her eyes quite tearful. She studies the man's face: no, it's not one she remembers. But he obviously knows her, somehow. That makes her smile just a little bit. She's obviously made an impression on him.

"How do you know my name?" She brightens a little bit. Maybe he's seen her with Cesare? Maybe he's seen her Instagram page or her blog? Maybe he thinks she's pretty, just as Cesare does. She pats the chair she's sat on, and indicates the arm chair opposite her.

"You can sit down if you want." Does she care that this guy is a total stranger? She's not famed for good decisions really...

[falsify]

Wow, he's a little amazed this girl hasn't gotten herself killed.

But he smiles at her and takes a seat opposite, setting his tiny cup down on the table, "you're with Cesare, right?"

So that answers that question.

[morevacant]

"No..." she might mame stupid decisions but she can at least remember Cesare's instructions to deny their secret relationship. Bad publicity, right?

"Are you a journalist? Because I'm not allowed to talk to you if you are. I don't know anything about Cesare anyway."

[falsify]

Lydia, please.

Eames chuckles softly and shakes his head, "no, I'm not." And he leans forward, elbows on the table, dropping his voice a little with a gently amused smile, "but if I was? What you just said is as good as a yes."

[morevacant]

Oh. She blushes, completely embarrassed. It doesn't take much to make her blush but that was a silly mistake.

"I'm still not talking about him." She folds her arms, quite determindly. "We're happy, thank you."

She looks at him, lips pressed tight together. She kind of wants this man to leave, especially now he won't get gossip from her. Especially so she won't give anything else away.

[falsify]

"That's fine," he got the answer he wanted, that's good enough for now, "I was just..." He wants to say concened but that's not really true and he pauses to think of how to phrase it.

A moment passes, however, and he thinks a heavy silence and a concerned expression plays it off better before he shakes his head and changes the subject, "what's got you so down if not him then?"

[morevacant]

"Well -" She adjusts her seat, quite pleased to both be off the topic of Cesare and to be talking about her problems.

"Well, it's just... I've - uh - well, uni... you know? I've failed. I mean, there are exams in August to re-take everything, but..." she shrugs, the implication that she thinks she's a bit thick hanging heavy over her.
"I don't want to go home, and I know my Daddy will make me. He thinks it was a waste to let me come anyway."

[falsify]

"You know," Eames starts, voice hushed a little like he's sharing a secret, "if you're old enough to go to university, you're old enough to stop doing what they tell you."

Not that he's suggesting she stop talking to her parents, just, you know. Establish a little independence.

[morevacant]

"Oh I know..." Lydia sips her tea. "But Daddy's paying for it. I don't have any money."

[falsify]

"One problem at a time then," Eames finishes his espresso and sets the little cup aside, leaning forward with his elbows on the table because this is Serious.

"So there's make-up exams, you said?" He's trying 5sound positive about it, like this is a good thing. Hell if he knows, Eames has always hated academia. But they're not talking about him right now. "You sound pretty sure you're not going to pass."

OMG I didn't see this!

[morevacant]

"Everyone I know says I'm thick," she sighs dramatically again. "What's the point of even trying if I'm just going to fail anyway? It's just a waste of time."

She kicks off her Louboutins and curls her feet beneath her. "You know how people say you get brains or beauty? I think my sisters got all the brains before I was born. It sucks, you know?"

[falsify]

"Academia doesn't come naturally to everyone," Eames says it softly, genuine. A gently encouraging tone of voice, "it doesn't mean you're not smart — intelligence comes in a lot of different forms — and it certainly doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

[morevacant]

"Yeah, well..." Lydia folds her arms grumpily, "One day, no one is going to think I'm stupid."

She just hasn't worked out how that's going to happen yet.

"But haven't you had enough of me telling you about all this?"

A sudden suspicion crosses her mind. "You're not working with the cat, are you?"