reicicled

So his older self hadn't shown up at all yesterday, which sucked. He'd texted an apology, something about an emergency with the school, and Bobby had resigned himself to a weekend spent either sulking in his room or helping Uma dodge her unexpected visitors. Except early Saturday morning, he'd woken up to a frantic call from his older-self, something about how his parents had somehow found out about the younger-Bobby's existence, because they'd been sent the same invite the older-Bobby had about the Parent's Weekend event. And they were headed to Fandom. Bobby was clinging to the hope this was all his older-self's idea of some dumb joke until he checked his voicemail and found a message from someone who, yup, was definitely his father, telling him to meet them at the Italian Restaurant at 6pm sharp.

William Drake still wasn't entirely sure this was a good idea, to be honest. Both the dinner and being here, in this... place... in general. But he had to admit his wife had a point. They'd been given another chance; this time, they could raise the boy right, he'd settle down and find himself a nice, normal job, marry a nice, normal girl... there would maybe even be grandchildren, someday.

"You're sure you told him the right place? What if he got lost?"

"Of course I'm sure," Madeline replied. "If there's one thing I know about our boy at any age, it's that he could find his way to any restaurant with his eyes closed. He's probably just running late." The 'as usual' was unsaid, but definitely implied.

Unbeknownst to them, Bobby had actually beaten his parents to the restaurant. It was just that he'd found himself with a bit of a, well. A problem. ( So now he was frantically texting his roommate-slash-backup to see if she could possibly help him out of this mess. )

[ooc: Preplayed with the always-fabulous refused2berescued. NFI, but ok for broadcast and OOC is welcome!]