Bryce arrived at the Break Room about two minutes later. He lingered before sitting down beside Travis.

“Soooooo,” Travis began, leaning forward and crushing the edge of his sandwich with his hand. “…how was it? Didja use ‘confluence’?”

Bryce glanced quickly up at Dylan before groaning. “She wasn’t a meteorologist, Travis,” he spat, which forced Travis to recoil. “It was terrible,” he answered, slamming his lunch down on the table and plopping down in the chair in front of it.

‘Yeah…I’m definitely going to kill him,’ was Dylan’s first thought. But the man inhaled and studied Bryce, watching carefully to see what his next move would be.

“Wow. What, you weren’t your normally charismatic self?” teased Amber.

Bryce’s eyes momentarily darted back to Dylan before he continued. “I-I was. She was just such a…prude. Angry, boring, and negative. She didn’t even like the flowers I got her. And, and, when I wanted to kiss her goodnight, she wouldn’t let me.” He scoffed loudly. “It wasn’t like I was saying we should go have sex.” Dylan tensed a little, but it wasn’t noticeable. “God, it was just a bad night.”

Dylan’s eye twitched, and he carefully considered his words. After a moment, he snorted.

Amber began to speak, her tone gentle. “Sometimes first dates aren’t always – ”

“Wait, wait. Hold on,” butted in Dylan, who leaned forward in his chair, a softened look on his face. Bryce stared daggers. “So it’s your date’s fault that it was a bad evening?” he asked, his own voice quiet.

“Yes,” Bryce answered without skipping a beat.

Dylan shrugged, shifting his gaze to the side of the room for a moment, as if his observation was apprehensive. “I don’t know, it just…sounds like you were just expecting this date to be…groundbreaking or something, and you didn’t get.” In his head, Dylan was pleading with his Soulmate to stop. ‘If you really want to get on my good side, don’t keep going.’

Amber, Travis, and Chris blinked, noting Dylan’s unusual behavioral change. “I…actually agree with Dylan on this. You did say this was an important date, yeah?” asked Amber.

“Why was it important?” asked Chris. He glanced down into his salad bowl and whispered, “What made this date different than the other ones?”

“Shut up, Chris,” Bryce spat, so prepped and ready to spar against Dylan that he hadn’t recognised that Dylan wasn’t arguing. “What are you implying, Dylan?”

Dylan’s eyes twitched in frustration; he sighed. “I-I’m saying that…that maybe – ”

“Is Dylan Matthews actually fucking stammering?” asked Bryce.

‘Okay, now you’re dead.’ Dylan inhaled through his nose, nostrils flailing, and shifted forward, propping himself up on his elbows as a strategy pieced itself together in his head. “You know what I’m saying?”

Chris’ eyes widened, recognising the change of tone. “Oh no,” he murmured.

“I’m saying that maybe she had standards?” Dylan asked, tilting his head slightly. “Unlike the others you’ve dated.”

“Excuse me?” Bryce asked through his teeth.

“Dylan, I don’t think this is the place for this,” Travis whispered.

“You wanna talk about standards?” asked Bryce, who moved his lunch to the side. “I got her flowers. I took her to a nice restaurant, that she recommended. I paid for dinner. I wanted a kiss and I didn’t get it.” He harrumphed. “Where’s the justice in that?”

“You know, I-I don’t think this is the place for this, either,” whispered Amber, but she was ignored.

“Are you really that surprised, that someone actually has standards for a first date?” asked Dylan innocently, his thumb rubbing against his pointer finger. “Are you really that opposed to people not kissing on a first date?”

Travis began to speak – “You know, I-I actually think Bryce brings up a good point, but I think – ” But was interrupted.

Bryce shook his head. “It’s not like I was asking for a make-out session with her.”

“I don’t think there’s a difference,” Dylan replied, shrugging. He leaned forward and whispered, “Some people don’t kiss on the first date.” Dylan gasped quietly. “Evidently, she didn’t want to kiss.”

Amber interjected, moving her lunch to the side. “Well, I, I think Dylan brings up a good point about, about personal boundaries, but I still really don’t think this is the time or the place – ” But she, too, was interrupted.

“But I paid for the dinner, though,” Bryce whispered through gritted teeth. “I expected a kiss.”

“I’m sure she would’ve happily split the bill with you. And from the sounds of this girl, she suggested, nay, even offered, to split the bill,” Dylan replied. Arms now crossed, he pressed them into his chest, as if trying to turn off the ever-present Soulmate Glow that no one could see.

Bryce leaned forward. “I would’ve settled for a kiss on the cheek. Or the forehead.”

‘Keep going, you ass,’ mused Dylan. ‘Dig your grave.’

“Y-y’know, sometimes, I-I just shake hands with the person I’m seeing,” admitted Chris.

“Shut up, Chris,” snapped Dylan. “Did you even stop to ask if they were even okay with it?”

“It’s a goddamn kiss, not a proposal,” Bryce whispered through his teeth.

“You got them flowers, right?” asked Dylan, glaring hard at his Soulmate. “I saw the shop you got them from. Who gets someone dying, orange roses?”

“They make those?” asked Travis.

“They were a nice touch,” Bryce insisted, “and they weren’t dying! I got them, on sale, at Tesco.”

“Guys?”

“They were so dying!” Dylan half-shouted. “But orange? Who, who gets someone orange roses?”

“I got them flowers,” Bryce muttered through his teeth. “Even if they were dying, which they weren’t, shouldn’t that count for something?”

“G-guys?”

Dylan harrumphed, his foot pressing against one of the metal legs of the table. “Maybe if you didn’t talk about your sexual escapades on the first fucking date, they would’ve felt better.”

Amber exclaimed, disgusted. “Oh my God, Bryce. Are you serious?”

Bryce’s eyes darted at his coworkers, mentally noting the other people around them suddenly. But Bryce didn’t care. “M-may, maybe I was nervous as fuck and that’s what I came up with.”

“Maybe there are more topics to pick from than just sexual history.”

“Maybe if my date had some better stories to tell, it wouldn’t of been boring.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have opened with, ‘Can I tell you the story of the first time I fucked someone’, and then proceed to tell a half-hour long story that had way too many details.” He looked to Amber and added, for emphasis, “On his first date, too.”

Amber’s face of disgust intensified. Chris turned to Dylan and whispered, “How, how do you know this?”

“Well, maybe, if they hadn’t asked ‘What would you like to talk about’, it wouldn’t of happened.” Bryce was now standing over the table, leaning in further to get in Dylan’s face.

Dylan scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “It’s generic pleasantries. You’re supposed to say ‘Whatever you’d like to talk about’ on your first goddamn date with them.” Dylan shook his head and leaned forward, his fingers placed flat on the table. “I feel bad for your other dates. Is it always steeped in this much douchebaggery? Because that might explain why your track record is so long.”

Bryce clenched his jaw and sat back in his chair, shaking his head in anger and contemplation. ‘You fucking ass.’

Dylan leaned back, a satisfied smirk of payback threatening to spread across his face. ‘I won.’