He arched a brow, not in skepticism but in shock. How exactly did one get used to the idea that their entire lives existed on paper and were sold as entertainment to intellectually stunted middle class children? (Or whatever demographic they happened to be pushing you at. Better middle class children than the entire fanbase of Sex and the City.)

Peter shifted in the pew to better face her as they spoke, keeping his voice low in the off chance that someone was eavesdropping. From the look of things they were in the clear, but that was never any guarantee. It wasn't like everybody cupped their hand to their ear and leaned into your face. "What made you change your mind? I only found out last week, and it's been...uh. Something."

At a gesticulative loss, Peter smoothed the hair out of his face and freed his eyes of bangs. Geez, this was so weird to talk about out loud. "I still can't figure out where this place fits in. Why they would push us all together where we can recognize each other and burst everyone's happy little bubbles? Are they just messing with us, or is there some kind of method to it all? Hammer in how useless we really are so that...I don't know. Just seems like rampant will-breaking to me."