The Deep End—S6¶
— Robyn —¶
😄🧵💛👭 💞 🖤 🍓 🌶 🥐 🚪 🔑 🛋 🫧 🌩 🌧 🧵 🪡 👗 👚 👜 👠 🩰 💄 💋 🎻 📒 👠 🩰 💄 💋 🎻 📒 ✂ 🩸 💧 🚺 —
Scene Six¶
🥐 Over a Croissant 🥐
[ Charli ]
I sipped my lemon-lime bitters and watched a bartender prop the swinging door open. Bar noise—yelling at the screens, laughing, music—poured out, ten times louder. I closed my eyes, sighed. Looked for Brittany.
She was on her mobile at the bottom of the brick footpath, her body curled over.
Then, it shook.
My stomach dropped.
I set down my drink and grabbed my bag.
Brief wave goodbye to whoever might be watching. No one was.
When I got to her, Brittany was silent. I stood beside her. Her shoulders shook again. She looked up, glanced at me and then away.
"Toby."
I swallowed. My hands twitched at my sides.
I carefully moved closer. When she leaned towards me, I reached out for her.
She pressed into me and wept into my neck.
I looked down the empty road, the streetlights glowing peacefully. I gently touched Brittany's elbow.
"Let's go."
She nodded and held onto my arm, her jaw set, her swollen eyes staring at nothing.
The night air smelled of flowers mixed with snags on a barbie. Roadside gravel crunched beneath our shoes. My phone light reflected in the pothole puddles and glistened in the wet grass along the footpath to the donga.
The unwelcome lived-in smell met us as I opened the door. The open windows had done little to shift it.
"Can I get you anything, Brit?" She shook her head. "A tissue, maybe?" She sniffed and nodded.
Her lips trembled as she dabbed at her mascara-stained cheeks and sank down on the couch.
"He was my best friend, Charli."
I silently sat down beside her. Her eyes sought mine, then her face crumpled.
"And I couldn't even be there for him—" Her voice dissolved into tears. Her body shook again as I held her. No words. Outside in the distance, a bus started its engine and pulled away.
Brittany finally looked at me.
"I should have known this would happen," she sniffed, wiping her cheeks again. "His hind legs were never that good. I guess it's a thing with ridgebacks."
I took in a breath. Sighed.
"They're such sweet dogs," I said softly.
"Toby was," she said, her eyes on her hands. "Mum said she was there—" She swallowed, hard. Her chest rose with the effort of a breath. "He didn't feel anything. Just—"
A curlew cried—thin and eerie—in the darkness.
I got to my feet. Her eyes followed me, lost.
"I'm putting the kettle on."
The fan over the table spun slowly as we sat down. Brittany stared at her cup, worrying her teabag.
"Mum said it wasn't just the dysplasia thing," she said. "He had cancer. She said he quickly went downhill… like, in just a few days."
I leaned forward.
"What were your favourite times with him?"
"Taking him to the beach. He loved the beach, ever since he was a puppy."
"Sounds like he had a great life with you," I said. She nodded.
"I think I like animals more than I like people," she murmured, then caught herself. Put out her hand. "Not you, Charli. You're lovely!"
"no, I get it." My mouth pulled crooked. "Totally."
Brittany gave me a wan little look and rubbed her eyes, mascara shadowing her cheeks in the fanlight.
“You look shattered, Brit. Please stay here tonight. You can have my bed.”
She made a weak protest.
“No, I mean it,” I said. “I’m good on the couch. It’s cooler than the bed, some nights. Slept there last night under the window.”
I gave her a clean over-sized t-shirt and a new toothbrush.
"Coffee and croissants in the morning sound okay?"
I woke in the morning to a click. The kettle hissed as I swung my feet to the floor.
Neither of us spoke as we stared at the steam rising from our cups. Finally, I looked at her.
"Did you need to ring someone, let them know where you are?"
"I texted my roomie last night."
"Oh, right-o."
Outside, an aeroplane droned overhead. A lawnmower coughed and caught. I glanced at the clock. 8am.
"Did you ring Celeste last night?" she asked.
"I texted her before I went out." Something warmed in me. Brittany leaned in.
"How long have you known each other?"
“Ages,” I said before I thought. “No, that’s not true. End of high school, really.”
"Where did you first meet?" Heat suddenly flamed in my neck. Her look sharpened. I took a deep breath.
"In the girls' toilets at the library."
Brittany frowned. "What?"
I stared at her. Bit my lip.
“What's weird about is—” I paused. "I went in there by mistake."
Brittany stared at me. Her head tipped forward.
"By mistake?"
"Yeah." I swallowed. "I uh… wasn't meant to be in there."
She went very still. “Charli… what are you telling me?”
I glanced at her, my eyes stinging. “I'm saying that people weren’t seeing me as… this.”
She slowly pulled her head back.
"Because—back then—you weren't living as a… girl?"
I nodded quickly. A tightness grew behind my eyes. I glanced at her.
Brittany went quiet. Properly quiet. She set her cup down and just looked at me, her eyes gentling as the pieces seemed to fall into place. When she smiled, it wasn’t surprise anymore. It was warmth. And something close to protectiveness.
"That's right. Thing is: Celeste came in, saw me, and thought I was a girl.”
She nodded once.
"And I didn't correct her," I went on. I swallowed. "Same at Wardrobe. I didn't correct them either. It— didn't feel wrong."
Brittany pursed her lips.
“Was that the first time it felt right?” she asked finally.
I shook my head. "I never really thought about it. I just never… belonged anywhere." I shrugged. "Not until Wardrobe."
She took a sip of her tea, and I suddenly remembered.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "I'd promised you coffee and croissants."
"I'll just have the croissant, thanks, Charli," she said.
"I can heat it up for you."
"It's fine," she said gently with a shake of the head, one corner of her mouth curling up.
We silently pulled flaky crust off croissants for a moment.
“Right then,” she said finally.
I looked at her.
“Right?”
She glanced at me, one corner of her mouth lifted. “That explains a lot.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
She turned her cup in both hands.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” I nodded. “But… how did it go from that to this?”
I looked down at the table. “It wasn’t one big leap. It was lots of little ones. They all happened at Wardrobe." I bit my nail. “At first, it was repairs. And keeping things neat. All of it.”
Another solitary nod. "You said your Mum taught you how to sew?"
“She reckoned every boy should be able to take care of himself. Mara liked my work, so I was allowed to come back the next day.” I stared down at my tea. "Brit, it was the first time, ever, that I felt like I belonged somewhere. Like, I was useful."
She leaned back in her chair, pulled the end of the croissant off, dipped it into her tea and quickly popped it into her mouth. I giggled.
"Is it nice?"
She beamed and nodded. "Tell me about Wardrobe, Charli."
"Well, Mara is in charge—"
Brittany shook her head. "No, I mean, what you do there. You said you do testing… did you test all the costumes?"
"When Mara tells you to do something, you do it. She wanted to know where things pulled, where stuff sat wrong."
"Is Celeste also a tester?"
I shook my head. "No, she does admin stuff. She deals with work contracts, vendors…"
“And were you okay with that? With testing stuff?”
"It bothered me a little. At first. But everyone was so happy that I was doing it, you know—"
"Useful?" Her brows rose.
"Yeah. In fact, Celeste called me her wife."
Brittany's mouth fell open. "Were you okay with that?"
I shrugged. "Look, it felt a bit weird at first, but I guess she was right. Because the other girls at Wardrobe started calling me that. And then, they said 'she'."
"When they were talking about you," she said. I nodded. "And?"
I looked steadily at her, my head to one side. “And it made me feel… great. Yeah, like I was one of them. They were the only people in the world I’d ever felt properly good around. The only ones who’d accepted me.”
Heat suddenly burned behind my eyes. I looked away.
“You okay?” I turned towards her soft voice. I nodded. "You don't have to talk any more if you don't want to."
I gave a quick shake of my head.
"No, I want to tell you, Brit." My breathing didn't want to work. I looked down, then back at her. “Something was happening to me. My body was—” I glanced at her raised brows, her parted lips. “I was frightened, Brit. Scared out of my mind.” My mouth was dry. "I panicked. Tried to make it stop." Her chair creaked as she leaned forward.
I trembled.
"Celeste found out."
Her gaze dropped as she nodded, then it flicked back up at me.
"Was she upset?"
"Yeah." I tipped my head a little to one side. “And once she knew, things sort of… had to be faced. Anyway, I’m not having to fight it anymore.”
The sound of the lawnmower outside stopped.
I turned my cup the other way. My tea had gone cold.
“I didn’t understand it properly until I thought I might lose it.”
— … Beat 1 — Entry
Beat 2 — Inciting Shift (PRIMARY)
Beat 3 — Internal Calibration
Beat 4 — Choice
Beat 5 — Power Adjustment (TURN)
Beat 6 — Exit Note
Published¶
12-Mar-2026¶
🥐 Over a Croissant 🥐
[ Charli ]
I sipped my lemon-lime bitters and watched a bartender prop the swinging door open. Bar noise—yelling at the screens, laughing, music—poured out, ten times louder. I closed my eyes, sighed. Looked for Brittany.
She was on her mobile at the bottom of the brick footpath, her body curled over.
Then, it shook.
My stomach dropped.
I set down my drink and grabbed my bag.
Brief wave goodbye to whoever might be watching. No one was.
When I got to her, Brittany was silent. I stood beside her. Her shoulders shook again. She looked up, glanced at me and then away.
"Toby."
I swallowed. My hands twitched at my sides.
I carefully moved closer. When she leaned towards me, I reached out for her.
She pressed into me and wept into my neck.
I looked down the empty road, the streetlights glowing peacefully. I gently touched Brittany's elbow.
"Let's go."
She nodded and held onto my arm, her jaw set, her swollen eyes staring at nothing.
The night air smelled of flowers mixed with snags on a barbie. Roadside gravel crunched beneath our shoes. My phone light reflected in the pothole puddles and glistened in the wet grass along the footpath to the donga.
The unwelcome lived-in smell met us as I opened the door. The open windows had done little to shift it.
"Can I get you anything, Brit?" She shook her head. "A tissue, maybe?" She sniffed and nodded.
Her lips trembled as she dabbed at her mascara-stained cheeks and sank down on the couch.
"He was my best friend, Charli."
I silently sat down beside her. Her eyes sought mine, then her face crumpled.
"And I couldn't even be there for him—" Her voice dissolved into tears. Her body shook again as I held her. No words. Outside in the distance, a bus started its engine and pulled away.
Brittany finally looked at me.
"I should have known this would happen," she sniffed, wiping her cheeks again. "His hind legs were never that good. I guess it's a thing with ridgebacks."
I took in a breath. Sighed.
"They're such sweet dogs," I said softly.
"Toby was," she said, her eyes on her hands. "Mum said she was there—" She swallowed, hard. Her chest rose with the effort of a breath. "He didn't feel anything. Just—"
A curlew cried—thin and eerie—in the darkness.
I got to my feet. Her eyes followed me, lost.
"I'm putting the kettle on."
The fan over the table spun slowly as we sat down. Brittany stared at her cup, worrying her teabag.
"Mum said it wasn't just the dysplasia thing," she said. "He had cancer. She said he quickly went downhill… like, in just a few days."
I leaned forward.
"What were your favourite times with him?"
"Taking him to the beach. He loved the beach, ever since he was a puppy."
"Sounds like he had a great life with you," I said. She nodded.
"I think I like animals more than I like people," she murmured, then caught herself. Put out her hand. "Not you, Charli. You're lovely!"
"No, I get it." My mouth pulled crooked. "Totally."
Brittany gave me a wan little look and rubbed her eyes, mascara shadowing her cheeks in the fanlight.
“You look shattered, Brit. Please stay here tonight. You can have my bed.”
She made a weak protest.
“No, I mean it,” I said. “I’m good on the couch. It’s cooler than the bed, some nights. Slept there last night under the window.”
I gave her a clean over-sized t-shirt and a new toothbrush.
"Coffee and croissants in the morning sound okay?"
I woke in the morning to the click of the kettle. Took me a moment to remember last night. Toby. Brittany looked flattened. She hadn't gotten all the mascara off under one eye. She heard my feet hit the floor, gave me a wan smile.
"You didn't sleep much last night, did you?"
"I kept hearing him scratching at the back door," she replied.
I reached for mismatched cups.
Neither of us spoke as we stared at the steam rising from our tea. Finally, I looked at her.
"Did you need to ring someone, let them know where you are?"
"I texted my roomie last night."
"Oh, right-o."
Outside, a lawnmower coughed and caught. I glanced at the clock. 8am.
"Did you ring Celeste last night?" she asked.
"I texted her before I went out." Something warmed in me. Brittany leaned in.
"How long have you known each other?"
“Ages,” I said before I thought. “No, that’s not true. End of high school, really.”
"Where did you first meet?" Heat suddenly flamed in my neck. Her look sharpened.
I took a deep breath.
"In the girls' toilets at the library."
Brittany frowned. "What?"
I stared at her. Bit my lip.
“What's weird about is—” I paused. "I went in there by mistake."
Brittany stared at me. Her head tipped forward.
"By mistake?"
"Yeah." I swallowed. "I uh… wasn't meant to be in there."
She went very still. “Charli… what are you telling me?”
I glanced at her, my eyes stinging.
“I'm saying that people weren’t seeing me as… this.”
She slowly pulled her head back.
"Because—back then—you weren't living as a… girl."
I nodded quickly. A tightness grew behind my eyes. I glanced at her.
"That's right," I said. "Thing is: Celeste came into the loo, saw me, and thought I was a girl.”
She nodded once.
"And I didn't correct her," I went on. I swallowed.
Brittany went quiet. Properly quiet. She set her cup down and just looked at me, her eyes gentling as the pieces seemed to fall into place. When she smiled, it wasn’t surprise anymore. It was warmth. And something close to protectiveness.
"Same at Wardrobe," I went on. "I didn't correct them either. It— didn't feel wrong."
Brittany pursed her lips.
“Was that the first time it felt right?” she asked finally.
I shook my head.
"I never really thought about it. I just never… belonged anywhere." I shrugged. "Not until Wardrobe."
She took a sip of her tea, and I suddenly remembered last night.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "I'd promised you coffee and croissants."
"I'll just have the croissant, thanks, Charli," she said.
"I can heat it up for you."
"It's fine," she said gently with a shake of the head, one corner of her mouth curling up.
We silently pulled flaky crust off croissants for a moment.
“Right then,” she said finally.
I looked at her.
“Sorry?”
She glanced at me, one corner of her mouth lifted. “That explains a lot.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. She turned her cup in both hands.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” I nodded. “But… how did it go from that to this?”
I looked down at my croissant.
“It wasn’t one big leap. It was lots of little ones. They all happened at Wardrobe." I bit my nail. “At first, it was repairs. And keeping things neat. All of it.”
Another solitary nod. "You said your Mum taught you how to sew?"
“She reckoned every boy should be able to take care of himself. Mara liked my work, so I was allowed to come back the next day.” I stared down at my tea. "Brit, it was the first time, ever, that I felt like I belonged somewhere. Like, I was useful."
She leaned back in her chair, pulled the end of the croissant off, dipped it into her tea and popped it into her mouth.
"Is it nice?"
She beamed and nodded.
"Tell me about Wardrobe, Charli."
"Well, Mara is in charge—"
Brittany shook her head. "No, I mean, what you do there. You said you do testing… did you test all the costumes?"
"When Mara tells you to do something, you do it. She wanted to know where things pulled, where stuff sat wrong."
"Is Celeste also a tester?"
I shook my head. "No, she does admin stuff. She deals with work contracts, vendors…"
“And were you okay with that? With… testing costumes?”
"It bothered me a little. At first. But everyone was happy how I was doing it, you know—"
Her brows rose. "Useful?"
"Yeah. In fact, Celeste called me her wife."
Brittany's mouth fell open. "Were you okay with that?"
I shrugged. "Look, it felt a bit weird at first, but I guess she was right. Because the other girls at Wardrobe started calling me that too."
I peeled flaky crust.
"And then, they said 'she'."
Her lips pursed. "When they were talking about you," she confirmed. I nodded. "And?"
I looked steadily at her, my head to one side. “And it made me feel… great. Yeah, like I was one of them. They were the only people in the world I’d ever felt properly good around. The only ones who’d accepted me.”
Heat suddenly burned behind my eyes. I looked away.
“You okay?”
I turned towards her soft voice and nodded.
"You don't have to talk any more if you don't want to," she said.
I gave a quick shake of my head.
"No, I want to tell you, Brit." I looked down, then back at her. I spoke quickly. “Something was happening to me. My body was—” I glanced at her raised brows, her parted lips. “I was frightened, Brit. Scared out of my mind.” My mouth was dry. "I panicked. Tried to make it stop."
I trembled.
"Celeste found out."
Her chair creaked as she leaned forward. Her gaze dropped, then it flicked back up at me.
"Was she upset?"
"Yeah." I tipped my head a little. “And once she knew, things sort of… had to be faced."
I tore my croissant in half.
"Anyway, I’m not having to fight it anymore.”
The sound of the lawnmower outside stopped. I turned my cup the other way.
"I didn’t understand it properly until I thought I might lose it."
My tea had gone cold.
“That was when I knew.”