And the girl was perfect, and she brought her home. Excited, and hateful and derisive at the same time, begging him to play along. "Frances is in the chorus," she spit, grinning. "She has real talent!" She made the girl dance for him, clapped viciously as she did, with a hilarious Jenna Maroney mug, until he stopped the record. For the last time. "Don't mind him. He's in one of his moods." She was sickened by Bill's disgust as he was by her behavior, but underneath it she was just ashamed of herself: Bringing home some poor girl, into their bed, just to bring him to life again. Just so he'd wake up and bite, and feed, and love her again. The lengths we're prepared go to, just to be loved. He grabbed her away from the girl, and reiterated how he'd stopped feeding, forever. Lorena popped fang behind the glamoured girl's back, running fingers across her neck. If the lights were a little lower, she'd have been perfect. "She smells like apricots. Remember those?" He stepped forward, fangs popped of their own accord, and at her bidding he almost fed.
But Bill's innate Billness shoved him back just as he was about to bite, and he made the first choice in a long time. He squeezed at the girl's shoulder like a man drowning, for support, and told her to leave. She nodded, scared and grateful, and vanished. Left alone with him, Lorena started making fun, calling him a wet blanket and doing the whole "I don't know why I keep bothering with you" number she knew from the movies. He called her bluffs, saying he couldn't even stand the sight of her. It's was all very dramatic, and remarked upon it, but she was hurt. Every time he says or said anything remotely like that, she drops the act for a moment and immediately changes her tune to superiority. She does it so many times it's sad.
"Perhaps we should head back South. This town's a cultural desert, it's no wonder we are so depressed!" He backed away from her hands, looking hotter than usual, and tried to explain the difference between depression and clarity. And shame. She explained to him -- and at least he took this lesson with him -- that he is VAMPYRE, and to stop whining about everything. Those were and are like the two parts of his entire personality, of course, so he went, "You're the worst, I'm a monster, you're a monster, I am fortune's fool, I killed people because I was trying to be a good boyfriend, and this is bullshit."
And it's like, the nest he ends up in, between now and then, are just the same way. Diane and the gay one and the other one, they're just trying to fit in, with whatever archetype they think will work. So it's nice to know that Bill saw that, in them and himself, because it explains his kindness toward them a lot more easily than thinking he's just that dorky. Which he is, but not even Bill was as dorky as those three. "I sometimes forget how young you are," Lorena said, condescending as usual, which we've only just learned is a sign that he'd wounded her deeply. "I will never again be what you want me to be," he said, and for a moment she hated him. She threw a lamp, very fast because she was a vampire, but he caught it easily, because he was also a vampire.