Chapter Text
~2012~
When Marnie wakes up the day after Jessa’s wedding, at first she thinks that it was all a dream. A weird, messed up, crazy dream.
Because obviously, of the four of them, it certainly wouldn’t be Jessa – free spirit, pot-smoking, bohemian Jessa – who would be the first one to get married. And even if she were, the absolute last person that she’d be marrying would be that douchey venture capitalist guy.
Then Marnie rolls over and promptly freaks out. Because she’s in a bedroom she doesn’t recognize, and yeah, she moved out of Hannah’s apartment (and who is anyone kidding, she moved out of her own damn apartment, because she paid all the rent for that place, not Hannah), but not only is this not her own bedroom, but it’s also not Jessa’s or Shoshanna’s or anyone else’s she can think of.
Then that guy from her dream – well, maybe it wasn’t a dream, if he’s really here – the one who “officiated” the “wedding” peeks his head around the corner, and oh shit, is this his bedroom?
“Hey,” he calls in, a shy smile on his face. And God, she can’t even remember what his name is. Did she ever even know what his name is? “You’re awake.”
“Yeah,” is all she manages to say in return, wide-eyed and staring at him. And oh, if it wasn’t a dream, then for one thing, it means that she kissed him last night, and for another, it means that Jessa’s freaking married. What an idiotic thing for Jessa to do.
She tries to be subtle as she takes a quick look at herself under the covers, but really, she’s a little (a lot) too hungover for subtlety right now. She’s clothed, at least, so that’s something.
What’s-his-name chuckles. “Don’t worry,” he says. “We came back here, and then you immediately passed out. I slept on the couch.”
Marnie makes a face, trying to deny that that’s what she was thinking about, as if he didn’t just catch her checking to see if she was naked or not. But really, what’s the point? They both know that’s what she was doing.
“Sorry...” she trails off, unsure whether she’s apologizing for passing out, for making him sleep on the couch, or for the fact that she probably acted like a drunken idiot the night before.
“Bobby,” he supplies. And, not that she doesn’t appreciate it, but that’s not actually why she was pausing.
“No, I knew that,” she lies.
It’s an awkward way to start her day.