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Summary
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’d planned it all out, hadn’t he? Practiced in front of the cracked mirror in his new single bedroom apartment. Forced his unused voice past straining vocal cords. Again, again. Until he could seem like a passable version of his former confident, if not snarky, self.
This pathetic, shaking man clutching the cold seat of a toilet in the PTMC staff bathroom had never met that person.
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Or: I put all the angst tropes in a blender, smash Langdon into a wall, and force feed him the smoothie.
