[restaurant; ren & hannah]
The more that he heard, the less that he liked what he heard. It was vague, and Ren was intuitive enough to understand vague when he was being offered vague, which meant that he was torn genuinely between asking for more information, and allowing her to keep the privacy. But he couldn't say that he liked it at all. Military or no, it sounded like bullshit, and like precisely the sort of thing that he hated about his mother's politicians - they used people like they were things.
"That's not right," he said finally, justice sense activated. "You're not a floormat -- you're not a mat at all. You're smart, and sweet, and a good friend. You're worth a lot more than being passed around for free." And probably more than the window too. Again, it wasn't that Ren had issues with the work, exactly, but it felt very much like the sort of work where the danger of being treated like an object was fairly great. He squeezed her fingers back, trying to think of something else. But he didn't really have a lot of money himself. Or at least, not any that he cared to utilize regularly. Technically there was a trust fund - he didn't like to think about it, nor did he like to avail himself of it at all as activity was nearly always noticed and followed by greater meddling. But outside of that, he didn't have an immediate plan, so he pushed it away. He'd figure out something maybe.
"There's more to everyone than what is seen," he returned back at her comment. It was a dismissal, except that it wasn't exactly either. He'd told piece of himself to different people in Repose, and it was probably foolish, because at some point someone would figure it out and he'd probably either have to own it, or run from it again. And right now running from it felt less like an option than it had a few months back. But he wasn't so far removed from the Capital, nor from his family, that if someone started to ask questions, the right questions of the right people.
"But uh," he reached for the wine again, his mind still wrapped a bit around whether or not he could actually help Hannah easily. "I don't know what you want to know. I did theatre at University, here in the Capital. Then I went to LA for a while. That's where I learned to make coffee at a hipster as fuck - sorry - coffee shop on Wilshire. It turned out to be one of the more useful things I learned there. It got me a job here."