No. It's not like that. Maybe? I—

[Just what is this? He can see her clearly—a woman he's never met at different stages of her life. Short hair, long hair; shorter, taller. Still loud, still bossy and conniving and clever and still filling him with an uncomfortable warmth. Why? She had been blackmailing him, just like Baren. Holding some unspoken debt above him to get him to be some package mule. So why, in addition to overwhelming annoyance, did she feel close?]

—I don't know. She feels like you but... [Ugh. God. What's going on here?] ... Hey. Is this like what those messed up memories feel like?

[ . . . . Hm. That's a better explanation and it gets Baren's shoulders to relax. He wonders if he could beat Zoro in a fight if he took him by surprise, but otherwise lets the thought drop.]

Probably.

I got to remind you of some woman...? Man, you're definitely, super, annoyingly straight.

[what the fuck, baren.]

I told you it's not like that!

[Why... why must you always ruin Moments, Baren.]

I meant a friend.

[For such a reserved guy, he sure doesn't have a hard time admitting that. Just like he doesn't have too hard a time moving on. Good old repression. He smacks Baren on the chest as he heads out, still dressed like fucking Mick Jagger.]

Come on. Let's get your makeup or whatever.

[It's because of things like That that makes Baren ruin Moments.

There's a snap of fire, of sincere irritation at being called a friend as uncomfortable knots make him tense even as he's shoved aside. There's an automatic scowl that resembles a cornered animal - but it's gone so fast that one might wonder if it was just a trick of the light.

Friends. He scoffs and heads out of the dressing room, grabbing a beanie from the rack with the brand obviously emblazoned on it and shoves it over his head as he wanders to the cash register. Wordlessly, he pays for whatever Zoro's wearing before shoving his hands in his pockets and breathing out an irritated sigh.]

Alright, Mackleless, we're moving on.