Fifteen minutes till.

That's when their first date was officially rescheduled to, but as much as Darcy looked around the Notorious Gym, Ned simply wasn't there, a fact she felt... conflicted about. It was her who pushed him towards getting out there more, but perhaps she was just hoping to spend more time with her partner now that they were official. She forgave Ned for missing that first date due to Cashe, but it felt like he and Jason were hanging out a bunch since then. Which she was supposed to be happy for. Unfortunately, knowing that Ned took her advice didn't really soften the blow of feeling stood up two times in a row now.

Where the hell is he anyway? She pondered.

---

“Jason, I appreciate you preparing a surprise, but I really oughta be going soon. I don't want to let Darce down again,” Ned said, the regret clear in his voice.

“She'll be fineeee,” Jason reassured, “besides, I got something special today!”

Ned exhaled, a little annoyed, but attempting to press on. He needed to loosen up. That's what Darcy would tell him. That said, being blindfolded and led into some place filled with pounding music was a bizarre approach to him. After being seated, a sultry voice seemed to break through the excessive noise.

“You two gentlemen want anything to drink?”

“Tequila for me, water for Bird Box over here.”

Ned attempted to piece together where exactly they were, despite the immense confusion. But confusion turned to curiosity turned to realization. Which swiftly became anger.

“Jason,” he began pointedly, “are we in a strip club?”

“Shit,” Jason responded, “you're fucking sharp.”

Ned ripped off the blindfold only to be met by the torso of a dancer positioned uncomfortably near him. His cheeks turned red, Ned beginning to comprehend how utterly embarrassing this was. He thought about how stupid he was to even stumble in here in the first place. What if somebody saw him like this- if Darce saw him like this?

Oh god.

He was missing his date with Darcy… at a strip club.

His head fell into his hands as Jason patted him on the back.

“Hey, everybody has a first time, you'll be fine. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

“You don't get it,” Ned asked, his exasperation plain as day. He uncovered his face and thought very carefully about his next few words before committing to them.

“Jason, I think I need some space. You're still family, but... I can't do this.”

“Do what? Live a little?” Jason asked as he took a shot.

“Maybe this is living for you and that's fine! It works for you! Fighting rough works for you and that's great! I'm glad to call you a brother in arms, but I'm not like that! I don't talk about asses like they're candy! I don't go to strip clubs!”

“I hate to ask you this again, but why not?”

“Because I don't want to! I wanna go hang out with my girlfriend who will hear my bullshit and call me out on it! I wanna see what it means to be with someone again. Someone who's special to me... someone I trust deeply. Someone who...”

Jason smirked slightly, obscuring it with his drink. It didn't take long for Ned to catch on.

“She's standing right behind me, isn't she?”

“Why don't you look?” Jason suggested, stifling a laugh.

Ned inhaled and turned around, being met with a woman's bare chest right in his face. He turned around swiftly, shielding his face. In his other ear, he heard Darce's comforting voice as she sat down next to him.

“...He meant the other side,” She stated, slightly amused by how Ned looked given the surroundings. With a hand, she ruffled his hair.

“How did you deduce where we were? I'm a master at being discreet!” Jason inquired, "surprised" by her powers of deduction.

"I asked Theo.”

“Oh. Well played.”

Ned glanced up at her, removing his hands from his face, sighing lamentably, “Well... it's not what I planned for a first date, but it's something.”

“I think unplanned is the default here,” she retorted, causing Ned to chuckle while one of the dancers got uncomfortably close to their table, her thong loaded with dollars. Attempting to be sly, Jason slid a buck in front of Ned, giving him a look, the suggestion clear prior to him speaking.

“C'moooonnn. You gotta tip!”

“Not in a million fucking years,” Ned refused.

“Do it, do it!”

“No!”

Interrupting their bickering, Darcy lifted the bill and placed it firmly with the others at the dancer's waist before looking to Ned and Jason with a hint of smugness, secretly proud of herself for committing.

“Ned... your girlfriend tipped a stripper. In front of you! You might have hair on lockdown, but Darcy wears the pants!”

Darcy was pleased by the proclamation. Then they began to chant in unison.


She did a strange dance, waving her arms as she and Cashe chanted their impromptu creed. Ned sipped some of his water, feeling comfortable for the first time in a while. As she wound down, he rested his head on her shoulder, sticking his tongue out, emulating her favorite display of disapproval, causing her to blush lightly under the strobing beams of the club. It wasn't the first date either of them expected, but it was a story.

And it was theirs.

---

---

---

“Boundaries.”

“It seems like I've always been told what mine were. It's something I don't shy away from discussing, but so much of my career has been overcast by this view of me written by others, despite carrying little truth. But I've been put in a position of demanding boundaries be broken so often, that it can feel odd to acknowledge that they have their times and places. Everyone has an opportunity to decide how they’re treated by loved ones. Furthermore, one of the toughest things you can ever do is set those limits for the people closest to you. It's tough, but important. It's also a subject that the exceedingly sheltered Angelica Vaughn understands in shape, but not substance. She'll gladly try to place boundaries on how people are “supposed” to talk to her and about family supporting one another. She'll reiterate the limits that others set on me and lean back on some tired idea of “desiring relevance.” But what she's unwilling to do is place those kinds of strict boundaries on her dearest sister. To this, I have one thing to say:”

“If you want to be viewed as your own independent human being, you best goddamn act like it.”

“I’d also like to clarify something so it's crystal clear. My issue will never be you standing aside your family. I take issue with you, Angie. You hide from the sun in the shadow of your sister, but you take offense to those who point out where the shade's coming from. You want the prestige and promotion that comes with your position, one earned by the composition of your family tree, yet you demand a level of respect attributed to self-made individuals. That's the crisis of identity at play. You want to be Angie Vaughn second and Lacklan's sister first, but you're incredibly defensive about people calling your stagnating self-image out. Entitlement is a word that comes to mind, but it's not surprising. You live a life of unchanging privilege, you’re rarely challenged by any factors in your personal life, and on top of that you act outwardly pleasant enough to where people don't see the dissonance in real time. You want to be a human being, but you’re in a world of cartoons and because you refuse to draw your lines, your outline is written largely without your input. That's not something I feel good about pointing out. As someone who once lost myself to the whims of others, it's like witnessing some of my worst memories happening in slow motion right in front of me.”

“I haven't really gone into detail about what this tournament means to me because I struggle to put my feelings into words... the best feelings often have that limitation. March Madness is where I debuted for this company. I got the opportunity to turn my dreams into reality. I've faced heartbreak, a shattering psyche, and reinvention all under the bright lights of March Madness. For you, it's a cool potential career moment, something that can silence the criticisms of how you've been losing yourself in the story of another... For me? This is everything! This is redemption! Not for an image or brand like you assume, but for myself. Saga be damned, Chris Page be damned, my place in this has always been about me and overcoming the places where I've stumbled! First Buster, who was able to take me down only a few short months ago before I surpassed him and now you, the woman representing that desire to let someone else take the reins of my life and be molded into what they see fit. Into what they want. But I didn't make it this way by being what people wanted, god knows there's a lot I wouldn't have done if I had been... but my shame, my sadness... They make me human. They make me me. You're flawless, Angelica, at least in the ways most people immediately notice and it saps you of any humanity you could consider trying to achieve.”

“That's why, tragically for you, this tournament ends now. But I don't expect you to take it too hard, considering you only started pretending to care about proving yourself after meeting your sister in the tournament became unachievable. But simply moving onward isn't my only goal. Redemption isn't just about paving a road that improves your own life, but one that can carry as many travelers as may require it. We both know that you need to be more than the CoolTube caricature that you've embraced, but only one of us has the tools to show the difference in real time. I paved my way here, as bumpy, uneven, and painful it has been with my own two hands and I've always had my family there to support me after the battle, never prior. Because it isn't about them and never has been. You enabling Lacklan and taking refuge in the comfort of her manufactured world is a fault of yours. No one gets to choose who you are before you do. That's the lesson you need to learn and it's one I'm well-equipped to teach. This path isn't one you were forced on, but you embraced it about as easily as anyone could've asked. Even deep down, you know you're out of your depth, desperately hoping to play spoiler. Favorites don't spoil. The man who unified the Television Title and clawed his way back into the title picture on his own two hands doesn't spoil because when he achieves victory everyone saw it coming. And in your defeat, I shall give you a gift, Angie: the gift of example. I am my own man by choice, not coincidence. By vigilance, not circumstance. “

“Belief is only as strong as its source and you've lost the necessity to believe in yourself when others choose not to. As much as I've misstepped, as much as I have hit the ground, I never lost that ability and it's what makes me so dangerous. Because what you see is a roadblock to your credibility. A man whom the one closest to you repeatedly says doesn't belong. But what you don't yet see, Angie, but will very shortly, is the man who took a losing streak and turned it into a title victory and unification. Who takes failure and forges success from its ashes. I'm the ace of this company and I've known it for months.”

“Saturday night is simply when you will, too.”

"You can't run from yourself."