Eleanor made it his job to tell the guys in his house that they can't let on in front of Eleanor's parents that he's her boyfriend. "I'd be too embarrassed," she said to him, insisting he do it, as though it weren't an embarrassment for him as well. But when it comes right down to it, Justin hasn't ever really cared much what other people thought about him, as long as they don't touch him. Gavin is disappointed to hear he won't be available to meet Eleanor's parents at all, he'll be shooting during the BBQ Eleanor planned for them. "Maybe we could throw a party for them some evening, while I'm free. Eleanor's mother is my favorite living poet, I would really love to meet her." Justin nearly chokes on his dinner, unable to believe poetry comes out of the same bitch he heard nagging Eleanor over the phone this morning. Diego's face twists in revulsion, "You are such a freak, Gavin!" he exclaims, "I'm not gonna be anywhere near here when the Ice Queen's mother shows up." Justin puts his fork down gently, and speaks in a low menacing growl, "I've told you not to call her that, Diego. If you catch me at the wrong moment, I will hurt you." Zach breaks the uncomfortable quiet that follows, "Eleanor's father is a genius," he says, "I've read everything he's written. I can't wait to meet him in person."

Justin doesn't talk about his past, his family & he doesn't ask people about theirs. He didn't know Eleanor's mother was a famous poet, someone Gavin admired, he didn't know her father was whatever it is Zach is, with the science, a genius. No wonder she wants to hide him from them, he thinks. Their standard is impossibly high, he couldn't reach it even if he had his whole life to live over, just to try to render himself worthy. She's a princess, he thinks, in more ways than he realized. He remembers suddenly a story one of his sisters told him, about a prince who wanted a real Princess, and how he would make them prove themselves by sleeping on a pile of mattresses, under which had been hidden a single pea. A true Princess would wake bruised & sore from spending the night like that, her skin so sensitive it would be hurt by a pea hidden under a hundred mattresses. It was Justin's first erotic moment, the mental image of the princess' soft white skin, speckled blue with bruises. He remembers thinking then that he wanted a real princess of his own one day: the story didn't say anything about what he would have to do to be worthy of his princess, once he found her. She comes home that evening later than expected and wobbling drunkenly. He takes her face in his hands: her eyes are bloodshot & wet, her breath smells like gin. He's spent the evening feeling to low to touch the feet of her poet mother, only to find the bitch sent her daughter driving home this obviously drunk. "Eleanor, you're tanked. Did your mother let you drive home like this?" he asks angrily. Eleanor's eyes tear up further: he has yet to see any tears actually fall onto her pale cheeks. "She drank more than I did...I hate her so much, Justin," Eleanor pouts.

Her sad face, the pouty lips & the eyes shining with unshed tears, gets him every time. He has to kiss her, taste her lips & pull her hair.

Of course she's drunk, she spent the day with that bitch, probably being nagged at the whole time. Justin gets out the bouquet he picked up for her while he was shopping, and tells her about the Mahi Mahi he bought to grill for her parents. Justin does fish really well: if her parents are at all impressed with fine dining, his Mahi Mahi will impress them.

He doesn't have much time before he has to leave for his bouncer job. Eleanor needs to vent her frustration, and tells him all about her terrible day, confirming his suspicion about the nagging. "I actually got the nerve to talk back to her at dinner & she told me this city was giving me a bad attitude," she tells him, "I wish they hadn't come here." Justin is immensely proud of her: though her first attempt to stand up to her mother got shot down, she did make the attempt. It will lead to others, he hopes.

Eleanor's head lolls heavily back against his shoulder, "I'm so glad I have you Justin," she sighs, gazing up at him, "You make everything not matter." There's some drunk talk in there, Justin isn't accepting her sudden sentimentality at face value. But he believes what she says about things not mattering: it's like that for him, too.

"If you need me to stay with you, I'll blow off work," he offers, willing to be here for her if she needs him to talk to. But she's falling asleep as they sit, and tells him she'll get in bed now & will still be in it when he comes home. So he kisses her good night before he leaves for work.