"Maybe." A placating response, matched with a faint flicker of a smile. In the end, it's not really the job, is it? The job, the money, feeling like you're good at something...it never mattered.

It-- it's that feeling of belonging. Of being able to hold onto something human -- anything. 'We're just not sure you...mesh." Of course they fucking weren't. Of course she fucking doesn't. She didn't "mesh" in Bristol. She had hoped things would come together a little more here, in a city so big that she could be anyone. Anyone she wants. But that's not how it works, is it? Instead of being anyone, she's here, just her, talking to a woman who makes her unsettled in a way she can't explain, but that certainly can't be normal.

Maybe she wouldn't know any of that if it was staring her in the face.

"...It was crap, anyway," she adds, after a moment, a distinct feeling in mind that Gaby is not going to let her just shut the conversation down. "Busy work. Bet you could find half a dozen places like that just on this street."