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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎

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" ... Did you hear what I said?"

Cora glanced upwards from the tiny silver spoon between her fingers. She inhaled sharply, before glancing up with watery eyes. Olivia looked as though Cora had just told her Santa wasn't real, and maybe in some ways, Cora had. The girl was holding a glass vial filled halfway with white powder. As Cora's nose stung, the cogs of her mind turned.

What had she said? Probably something that would have frustrated Cora. Her growing cynicism was beginning to spill into every facet of her life, and her professional relationship with Olivia was no exception. Even though the girl had no idea of the burden she represented, Cora was having a hard time not holding her current circumstances against her.

Spending so much time around the Roys had rubbed off on her, it was proving a lot easier to simply blame everyone else for problems she had created.

"No?" Cora replied, jabbing her hand out. Olivia passed her the vial as she chewed on the fingernail of her thumb, brows knitting together.

"Oh! Oh never mind then. Don't worry, it can wait until you're fi-"

"No, please, repeat yourself. All ears this time." Cora replied, dipping the spoon back in. "Promise, I'm taking in every syllable."

"Oh, ok ... "

Olivia seemed to be trying to figure out if 'syllable' were a euphemism for cocaine but didn't dare ask for clarification. Good, Cora thought, raising the spoon again. The less Cora answered questions, the better.

Most of the executive floor was out to lunch, but Cora had had her reasons to hang back, the first on the docket being her last meeting. She'd managed to fall asleep during a brief on the coming debate, her last full day to prepare for what was likely to be a blood bath and not just because Kendall had been neglecting her text messages. Gerri had woken her up by harshly barking her name, proceeding to congratulate her for making it back to the land of the living and Cora hadn't been able to hide the aggressive reddening of her cheeks.

Her drinking had become an open secret since the party. Gerri hadn't been the first nor the last to make a snide comment. Cora had opted for acting oblivious. Her? Tipsy on the job and high as a kite? She wouldn't even acknowledge the assertion. It was just all of these late nights she'd spent at the office, bent over an ever growing script that she was most definitely memorising. What about those pictures of her and Violet at Jimmy's Corner, swarmed by suits? Oh, Photoshopped. She would never.

This had been on the back of several articles that had been arrived hot off the weekend presses. It seemed after the glow of Logan's surprise announcement and her little stunt that the tide was beginning to turn against her.

Several stockholders had been at Kendall's party, and others had happened to catch the videos of her sapphic molly trip. Apparently it looked bad to have an unmarried, childless and not so ex-party girl as a company's CEO, all of which hadn't been news to Cora. It turns out that decisions made in a bout of vengeance with a sprinkle of blackmail weren't the most wise.

"Well I said, um, first of all that I went and got you that ... That, you know, that thing you wanted me to get?" Her gaze was conspiratorial as she filled with the chain of Cora's handbag.

"When I said 'don't tell anyone under any circumstances', I didn't mean for you to include me in that group." Despite her words, Cora didn't need it spelled out for her. She'd left taking plan b to the latest moment but it had been the first thing on the agenda when she'd caught Olivia in the hallway that morning.

"R-Right! Right. I'm just nervous because Roman was in the elevator and he asked why I had your bag."

"And you told him ... ?"

"I said ... " She squeezed her eyes shut. "I said I was buying you tampons."

Cora groaned. "Nice, I already used that one. At this rate he's going to think I'm perpetually menstruating."

"Or that you're lying?" Olivia volunteered with a hopeful voice.

"Yeah that's a great alternative." She laughed harshly. Olivia's dark eyelashes fluttered as she glanced down at her loafers.

"Sorry ... "

Cora waved her hand dismissively. She hadn't been able to face Roman since the party and had somehow made it through the previous day by pulling random members of Waystar's staff into meetings. In a particularly awkward one, after almost being caught near the water cooler, she'd been forced to make thirty minutes of small talk with Karl.

All he'd wanted to talk about was Frank, how he was doing, whether she'd heard much from the doctors, when had been the last time she'd seen him. But these were the lengths she was going to in order to avoid staring her own guilt in the face, and Cora would much rather play pragmatist about her relationship with her comatose step-father than face Roman fucking Roy.

"And I just wanted to let you know that, um, Greg Hirsch actually messaged me." Olivia slowly articulated, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear. Cora screwed the vial closed, handing it back to Olivia, who stowed it in the handbag hanging from her shoulder.

"Uh huh, and what did he say?"

Olivia bit her lip. "Well ... At first I thought he was maybe, I don't know, sexually harassing me?"

Cora swallowed weird and managed to choke on her own saliva. She began to cough, clutching her chest.

"I'm sorry, what?" She managed, clearing her throat.

"Oh no! Don't worry, he wasn't. He was just quoting American Pie."

"I'm not any less worried," Cora muttered.

"Yeah ... " She sighed airily. Cora could see a little flush growing on the girl's cheeks. "Actually we started really talking after that. Um, he's ... He's quite nice? But I got kinda nervous, I have to admit, because ... I mean, really is it wise? To be talking to him? Isn't he like ... The enemy?"

Cora gawked at her, blushing as much as Olivia had. It had been impossible not to loop through the entirety of Kendall's appearance in her apartment over the last few days, thoughts triggered by even the most innocuous inferences to him. Finally she cleared her throat, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Well, doesn't that make it more interesting?" She volunteered.

"But ... It's not a good idea."

"I mean, don't talk to the guy if you don't want to. But I'm CEO and I'm telling you that you can, so ... "

"But you're not Lo- Oh, your nose is bleeding." Olivia's skin suddenly turned ghostly. She quickly fumbled for a nearby roll of toilet paper, handing it to Cora as she squinted her eyes shut. "Ugh! I hate blood, it makes me queasy."

Before Cora could properly react, the hinges of the bathroom door creaked open.

"Oh Cordelia Vernon!" Roman's voice called out in a sing-song cadence. "I know you're in here!"

A second later the door of the first in the line of stalls slammed open, followed by the second. Olivia clutched a hand to her mouth, horror twisting her features. She quickly pulled Cora's handbag from her shoulder and blindly shoved it towards her. Cora rolled her eyes, taking it.

"Fuck off, Roman." She called out, breaking off a piece of toilet paper and dabbing the blood from her nose. She rolled it into a ball and tossed it into the mouth of the toilet before putting the roll back on its holder.

"That's not very ladylike of you!" The third one slammed open, he was two doors down from them now. The squeaky hinges of the entrance sounded again and there was a brief pause as she heard an incensed female voice gasp. "Yeah, now's not the time Brenda. Give the urinals a try."

"That's definitely a sign you should go away." Cora replied.

"You're avoiding me," Roman said. She could see his shoes beneath the door now, pacing to the front of their stall.

"I've been busy. In meetings."

"Yeah, like the one you took a nap in?"

Suddenly he peeking beneath the door of the stall and wearing a wide grin. Olivia screamed, the sound bouncing off of the porcelain tiles below. Cora flinched, kicking the toe of her heel towards him in threat.

"Olivia, can you be a doll and please let me in? I don't think princess over there is leaving her porcelain throne any time soon."

He disappeared from view and Olivia quickly rushed to unlock the stall's door. She mouthed an apology over her shoulder to a glowering Cora before pulling it open.

Cora felt a stab of pain as she took him in.

The moment Kendall had left her apartment, the reality of what she had done had hit her square in the chest. At first she had tried to find every excuse she could to justify herself. She had been drunk, angry, vulnerable. The twin flame between Kendall and her had burned brighter than it ever had and she hadn't had the strength to snuff it. It hadn't occurred to her in the moment just why he had so readily accepted her actions, logic was tenuous even on her best days, but she recalled the conversation she had had with him the night she had been with Greg, replaying it in her mind in the bitter cold of the morning after.

I killed someone.

She had stopped being able to deny that whatever darkness conspired in him was inextricably linked to the one that was eating her alive. Far from bringing her to her senses, this knowledge and the actions it had born had driven her to the brink. Her guilt was a heavy cross that she could not consider bearing, and so Cora had done what she did best.

But it was impossible to not acknowledge her actions every time she caught a glimpse of Roman. Being in any kind of proximity to him made her skin crawl, no matter how much the drugs and drinking numbed her. Facing Roman meant facing the reality that she was the rot that had beset them.

She could deny everything, yet she could not deny that.

Olivia quickly scooted out of the way and slipped past him, quickly darting to the sink. Though she began washing her hands, Cora could tell she was attempting the linger. Whatever, she thought to herself, let her. Maybe it'd make it easier to avoid an actual conversation.

"I know what you're thinking." Roman started, and for a second Cora feared that he had actually acquired the ability to read minds. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway, watching her carefully. "You're thinking 'I bet this guy forgot about my birthday'."

Cora blinked at him. Well no, she hadn't been thinking that because she had been the one to forget it. Before she could reply, he had produced a small rectangular box from his back pocket, handing it to her. She placed her bag in her lap, narrowing her eyes as she took it.

The box was almost feather-light, it was hard to tell just what was inside. "You ... Should really have not gotten me anything."

"Yeah maybe, I don't know. I thought this would be the perfect gift." Roman replied, watching her carefully.

"It's probably anthrax, isn't it?" Cora said, trying to stall for time. "So you're done with stonewalling me for now?"

"I mean, I was pissed, sure. But it's not like I hate you." The smile on his face was enough to break her heart. "Open it and I'll give you a proper apology, if you want it so badly."

God, she was going to be sick.

Cora tentatively reached forward and plucked the top off the box to reveal its inside. The contents were not immediately apparent to her, in fact it appeared completely empty. Slowly it dawned on her that on the bottom of it were several words. Reaching inside, she pulled a white business card.

Her eyes flickered across the text.

"Gillian Clement ... Psychia- Wow. How fun. So your birthday gift is send me to a shrink?" She scoffed. Roman was unremorseful as he shrugged, pulling a face that said 'oops'. "I don't ... Is this meant to be a joke?"

"I went to college with her." He said simply. "She's not the usual, you know, 'everything you feel is valid and you should write a poem about how much you hate your mom' kind of shrink. She's a straight shooter. Actually she's kind of a bitch. But I thought you'd respond well to that. Plus she mainly works with people like you."

Cora gawked at him, her forehead taut with a frown. "People ... Like me?"

"Yeah." Roman replied. "Trust fund babies with addiction problems."

Her defensiveness flicked like a switch. Was that all he saw her as anymore? Was that the only reason he wanted to apologise? He didn't want to be with her as she was, so now he was trying to cure her. Well jokes on him, she was incurable. This was just her. She'd tried to be the way he wanted her to be and it hadn't worked.

She looked down at the card again, reading the name emblazoned across it in a tasteful serif font. Gillian Clement? Cora could imagine an exact image of her from the name alone, the kind of girl that she and Shiv would have likely picked on during their Exeter days.

Without another thought, she tore it in half, letting the fragments along with the box fall to the bathroom floor.

"Wow. That was ... Very cool of you Cordelia." Roman said, nodding slowly. "You gonna light a cigarette now?"

"Just leave me alone," she whispered. Cora hadn't meant to sound so defeated, but now she couldn't hide it. She dipped her head down to face the bathroom floor. "I just want to be left alone."

"Hey, it was a joke." Roman said, taking a step forward.

A small splatter of blood dripped down onto the tile, landing about an inch from her feet. He saw it, his hand cupping at her cheek and gently raising her eyes to his.

"Oh no!" Olivia squealed. "You're bleeding again!"

Cora flinched, she'd forgotten the girl was still even there. She looked past Roman to see that Olivia had been mid-filming herself in the mirror and had managed to catch sight of them in the reflection. Annoyance flickered over Roman's features.

"Yeah, can you maybe fuck off a little? And delete that. I already spoke to you about the Tiktoks, they're making everyone nervous." He called over her shoulder. Olivia opened her mouth to respond before sheepishly nodding. She quickly stuffed her phone into the pocket of her blazer, her hurried footsteps fading as she headed for the bathroom door.

Roman turned back to Cora, his eyes grazing over her. "I'm not saying you have to see the shrink, but I am saying that ... Fuck, I can't see you like this. You're asking me to act like I'm not watching you kill yourself."

Cora closed her eyes. "It's fine. There's nothing I can do anyway."

"It's not. You're a trainwreck. If you go on that stupid debate with Sophie Iwobi and Kendall, you're going to tank and it's going to be Gerri with no makeup ugly."

"Oh, what? Because I can't get through a half hour segment?" She quickly retorted.

"Jesus fucking Christ, shut up for a second." Roman snapped.

Cora was too stunned to recoil from him. He looked just as shocked that he'd so harshly. He slowly reached for the toilet roll, bundling the paper. Roman softly pressed it beneath her nose as she watched him, his eyes glassy as they fixed on the red blooming against white.

"I didn't mean to talk to you like that."

"Mm." Cora mumbled.

"It wasn't meant to be like this." Roman continued, like he hadn't heard her. "We were meant to be a team. I thought things would be different."

"You're not the only one." Her voice was soft. She closed her eyes. "I can't do this anymore."

She let the words sit in the quiet of the bathroom. Cora hadn't known how she had meant them when she had spoken, the fact they could have applied to any angle of her current situation spoke to the spider's web she found herself entangled in. She couldn't be CEO anymore, that much was clear, but maybe she couldn't be around the Roys either. It stung that Arthur's words might be true despite his selfish motives. She flinched, pushing the thought from her mind.

"What can't you do anymore?" Roman asked, his voice faltering.

"Just ... I can't do this job anymore." She muttered weakly. "I think you're right. I think I can't get through a half hour segment, let alone whatever comes after it."

"Ok," Roman nodded. "Then you won't."

"Bu-"

"No. Not buts," he said. The glimmer of hope in his eyes sent a striking pain through her core. "I'll talk to my dad. We'll sort something out. I'll sort something out."

They had let the population of the Waystar offices dwindle down to little more than a skeleton before Roman approached his father.

The sun had long descended in the sky and New York stretched out before her eyes like a maze of skyscrapers. The streetlights below had recently flickered on, illuminating the lines they made in a halogen glow. Cora pressed her forehead against the cold glass, ignoring the ghost of her own reflection against the large window panes.

Roman had told her to wait outside, a task simple in theory but the longer that time stretched, the more her skin bristled. Every so often she would feel Logan's cold gaze sweep her as she waited by a windows near his office, sipping from a mug she'd emptied the remainder of her flask into. Despite the heaviness that alcohol inflicted on her mind, thoughts still found their way to the surface.

Would Logan be angered by her insolence? He had mostly avoided her since his return to New York, managing from the shadows and forcing her to play telephone through Gerri and Karoline. Would he out her secret to Roman? Threaten to tell Olivia, sit her down for a tell-all interview on ATN? Would he destroy her?

As much as the idea frightened her, destruction seemed comparable to her predicament. She was in an impossible situation which had begged an impossible solution. If he cut her loose, she could simply disappear forever and maybe that would be favourable. Either way, she wanted to be done.

"Cora."

Roman's voice roused her, she turned lazily to face him, nodding. She placed her empty mug down on a nearby table, straightened out her dress, crossing the floor to meet him. His hand met her back briefly, a touch of reassurance before they crossed the threshold into Logan's office.

The patriarch was sitting behind his desk, eyes locked onto her as she arrived in front of him. She gingerly seated herself, Roman hovering beside her.

"So," Logan said heavily. "You want out."

"Yes," Cora replied. "I want out."

Logan's eyes flickered with something hard and cold. Without warning, Cora recalled the memory of the slap she had watched him deliver after the conference in Argestes.

Cora was ashamed to admit that she had pushed it to the back of her mind at the time, she had been so preoccupied with everything else around her that it had been easy to compartmentalise the brutality of it. Now it arrived back, full force.

The sound, how practiced the arc of his hand had been, her own inaction.

She was ashamed to admit to herself that it hadn't entirely surprised her. Growing up around the Roys meant fielding illusory comments towards what Logan was like behind closed doors. Cora had never pressed the issue, had frankly never wanted to pry lest the questions turn on her. She had always taken for granted that these things were not normal, long ago internalising the sentiment that this was how things were meant to be. Was irreversible damage from one's parents not baked into the cycle of life? Was love not inextricably tied to pain?

"She needs to step down." Roman pressed. "I mean, dad, the call from the DOJ earlier. It made it sound a lot like this'll all probably just get settled. Kendall's being funky with them and they found nothing here. The debate's just going to be a circus with Sophie Iwobi was the ringmaster."

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Logan replied, ignoring his son. He seemed to be assessing Cora, his eyes boring into the very pores of her skin. "Backing down would look weak."

He spat the final word with the force of a slap. Roman swallowed audibly. Cora could sense that every muscle in his body had tensed in the presence of his father. Frankly she was already prepared to bow out, fully convinced that there was no amount of pushing that could possibly sway Logan. After all, what was the alternative?

Cora opened her mouth to try and excuse herself but stopped short as Roman spoke again.

"There has to be a way. Some kind of distraction or ... A reframe? We just need something to pull attention from the dumpster fire, no offense Cora."

"None taken," she mumbled.

Logan looked from Roman to Cora. Slowly the cogs in his mind seemed to shift, his weathered features softening. For a single sparkling moment, Cora thought that he was going to grant her reprieve.

"There is ... Something." Logan began. Cora's heart leapt in her chest, gripping the arms of her chair. She found herself shifting forward in her seat, unable to help herself from leaping at the glimmer of hope.

His proposition caused her mind to go completely blank, his words replaced by static as she watched his mouth slowly chew through each syllable. Static filled her brain, Cora blinked to try and focus, fighting to keep herself in the conversation.

Instead, she was bisected, her mind thrown half way across the room to helplessly watch the shell of herself sitting docile in front of Logan. She wanted to scream, at herself, at him, at Roman who stood by her side with his arms folded against his chest, nodding along with her. Slowly she saw herself rise, a polite yet false smile stitched across her face.

With a jolt, she found herself in the hallway outside. Roman's hand was on her back, a frown denting his brow. Cora's mouth was dry as sandpaper. She took in a ragged breath.

"Well? What do you think?" He asked.

"I-I think I have to think about it."

"Ok," Roman nodded. "Yeah. Of course. Are you ... Alright?"

"Yeah." Cora lied. "I'm fine. I'll ... I'll catch up with you. I just need to check something."

"Yeah, sure. I'll wait in the basement, keep the car running."

"Got it."

She watched him leave, waiting until he was small in her vision before reaching for her phone.

[TEXT: to Kendall] 10pm @ the palace

[TEXT: to Kendall] Yes or no?

She could feel Logan's eyes on her, staring through the glass wall of his office. Her skin crawled as her phone buzzed in her hand. She thanked God that Kendall had decided to be prompt.

[TEXT: Kendall] Yes

________

Cora was drunk by the time she heard his footsteps.

The night brought with it a sense of anonymity, which felt integral. Even with her senses numbed, Cora was aware that all eyes were on them, and she wouldn't make the same mistake of being spotted with Kendall at a pivotal moment. This time the threat was not Shiv but her shaky reputation and the believability of Logan's ultimatum. Being seen with Kendall would be poison as it were, but with the decision still hanging in the balance, even Cora couldn't run the risk of Logan discovering the rendezvous.

She stood beside the low fence that surrounded the rooftop terrace, holding a glass filled to the brim with whiskey. She'd managed to drain half a bottle by herself, slowing down just enough to leave Kendall some. The hotel's bathroom robe sat warm and fluffy over the top of a black silk slip, her feet bare against the terrace floor's terracotta tiles. A soft breeze tousled her dark brown hair, throwing wisps of her hair to the air.

Cora had told concierge she would have a guest and to send him up, the thought of waiting by the door had been unbearable. She'd yearned to not feel caged, even if the freedom of the terrace was an illusion. She'd needed to think about her approach, yet the longer she had waited, the less of a priority this had become. The safety of the whiskey was warm in her chest now, it would be her guiding light.

"Sorry I ignored your messages earlier." She heard him say behind her. She didn't turn, hearing the sound of the cap unscrewing and the steady trickle of whiskey that followed. The glass scraped the coffee table as he lifted it up. "Busy day."

"It's fine. Taste of my own medicine."

"No kidding." Kendall joined her side, looking out over the horizon. "So ... How are you doing? With all things considered."

Cora's lips quirked. "Do you think you could ever live anywhere but here?"

He cleared his throat, giving her question some thought before replying. "Ah ... probably not. Where else would I go? It's not like I've never lived anywhere else, obviously, but I think I'd always end up back here in some way or another. What about you?"

"I used to think I'd never be able to leave." Cora admitted, taking a sip. She swirled the whiskey against her tongue, savouring the bite. "I grew up Upstate, in Albany, but when Reagan brought me to the city, I fell in love. It was so lawless, and I guess ... Brutal in a way that felt cathartic to be apart of. But I might be getting old, I feel like I can stand it less and less."

"Mm, very old." Kendall mused, his voice softening. "Happy birthday, by the way. Arthur mentioned it."

"So you haven't fired him then." Cora was surprised at how little she cared. Somehow it made her feel safe. Kendall shook his head.

"Getting rid of your head of PR before the night of a particularly PR intensive event would be ... "

"Nonstrategic." She finished for him. Cora glanced in his direction, seeing that he'd become visibly sheepish.

"You could put it that way, yes."

"It's what you wanted to say."

Kendall rolled his jaw, resting his arms against the top of the terrace. He swirled the liquor in his cup, clearing his throat. "Do you hate me for how I left things?"

Cora shook her head. In a way she had respected it, as much as it had frustrated her. It was the most self-control she'd ever watched him assert, she felt it had been for as much her benefit as his own.

"Do you regret it?"

It was his turn to deny. Kendall took in a measured breath, running a hand through his dark hair. "It wouldn't have been a good idea, to let it get to that point."

"Mm," she hummed. "I suppose I was just disappointed that it ended."

He watched her carefully as he spoke again. "Why did you call me here?"

"I want you to call everything off." Cora admitted. "I don't want to do the debate. I don't want to be CEO. Just take whatever buy out that your dad offers you and lay this whole thing to bed before ... Well, before you face anymore humiliation. It's not a secret at Waystar that Logan's slated to come out of this as the victor. This will be water off a duck's back."

"I didn't come this far just to come this far." Kendall said, his voice sharp. He quickly took a moment to centre himself. "That's not the only option you have to get out of this, Cora. You could, well, you could do what I asked you. Let me protect you, because I will. Take the lifeline."

"It's not that simple. Even if I were to do that, I'm still filling Frank's board seat. You really want to leave that to chance? And ... Honestly I don't trust you, Kendall." Cora replied, trying to soften her honesty with laughter. His expression remained still. "I don't think you have anyone's best interests except your own."

"Does that bother you?"

She thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. The realisation was a breath of fresh air. He didn't have her best interests and that was fine. Not even she had her own best interests in mind. Frankly she wanted someone who didn't care about her right now. Maybe that was why she was unable to stop entertaining the thought of him, even as guilt rested in her stomach, heavy as a rock.

His expression softened and he reached his hand forward, briefly brushing the hair from her eyes. A shiver ran up her spine.

"Why did you pursue me?" Cora found herself asking. "If ... If you always thought something had happened between Roman and I? Was it a competition thing? I've never really understood it."

Something odd passed over Kendall's features. He seemed to be weighing the thought of something in his mind, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Did Roman ever tell you about the deal?"

Cora opened her mouth to answer but hesitation closed her throat. A storm of foreboding had erupted inside of her, faintly rumbling in the depths of her being. Kendall was watching her carefully, and with the loosening of intoxication, her face betrayed her confusion. He didn't wait for her to speak again before continuing.

"I can't remember how old Roman was when he sat him down, but it was right before you were meant to come up during the summer, during a dinner. Shiv was excused from the table, I guess he knew pretty early on that Pinky wouldn't be a fan of what he had to say, and he didn't like upsetting her back then.

"Military school didn't do what he thought it would. I remember dad complaining about it earlier in the day, how Rome was still soft. At dinner he said it again, only this time he was honest that he doubted Roman would ever shape up without a carrot to compliment the stick. That was when he told us about the deal he made with your mom."

Cora's ears had begun to ring. She felt faint at the mere mention of her mother, clutching the side of the terrace to ground herself to reality. Kendall's hand ghosted her shoulder but she flinched away.

"What deal?" She said, her mouth dry.

"It was an arrangement." Kendall murmured. "You and Roman. Dad and Reagan wanted to marry you both off. Reagan would get the legacy she wanted and you'd make Roman normal, at least as close to it as possible."

The sound of glass shattering broke the silence that followed.

Cora had let her drink fall to the balcony floor. She looked down at the shards swimming in amber liquid. A piece had caught in side of her foot, a thin trail of blood beginning to flower against her skin yet she didn't register the pain. Her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Kendall swore beneath his breath, attempting to swipe away a path for her. He grabbed her forearm and steered her towards one of the cushioned seats before disappearing back inside the hotel room. She lifted her foot, reaching down and plucking the shard from her skin. Against the thin surface of the glass, she could just make herself out in the reflection, realising that she had begun to weep.

When he arrived back, she had wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. He had found a plaster in the bathroom, pulling a chair beside her and dabbing the cut on her foot with a paper towel. Kendall's eyes watched her carefully as he stripped the plaster of its plastic coating and gently smoothed it against her skin.

"I always thought you knew."

"I didn't."

"I can see that now."

Kendall ran his thumb against the plaster softly before pulling his hand away. He remained forward in his seat, resting his forearms against the tops of his thighs.

"I thought you knew and when your mom passed away ... Well, you had that whole rebellious streak after. Figured maybe it had broken the spell or something, maybe you weren't concerned about keeping her happy anymore an-"

"You think he just wanted to keep Logan happy?" Cora's voice was thin as she spoke. She had begun to lean against the back of her chair, allowing the cushions to take her weight. Her spine felt like it had lost part of its integrity.

"I'm sure he liked you, I mean that's what proximity does, right?" He said slowly. "But all Roman's ever wanted was to keep dad happy."

Cora turned her head away from him. She let her eyes trace the hulking forms of the skyscrapers around them, counting the windows to keep herself busy, hoping it would keep her tears at bay.

All those little boxes, some illuminated and others pitch black, little pockets of people living their lives. Were they happy? Were they haunted with dissatisfaction? Did they know love? For their friends, their partners, for their family? Had anyone ever mapped out their lives in the way her mother had done to her? Was everyone's existence marked with such deep cynicism as her own?

She was swept with the thought that she had never owned her own self, her own body. Every decision she had ever made felt like it had been part of some greater design that had been out of her hands since birth. Where her mother had once pulled the strings, Logan now sat. And though she knew Roman had been dealt a similar hand, it broke her heart to think he had kept this fact from her, that he had ever made her feel like her spiralling addiction was not the natural cause and effect of being placed under the pressure of failing expectations.

She was no diamond, she was the dust that rubble made when it had taken all that it could.

"If you don't back off, I'm going to have to do something at the debate." It was clear in her tone that this wasn't meant as a threat, and she was thankful when he didn't take it as such. "It's what I have to do in order to get myself out of this as best I can. I hope that you'll understand."

"I might not understand, but I ... Guess I'll accept it for what it is." Kendall murmured. Pensively his tongue slid against his bottom lip. "I, uh, is there really no way that you flip for me?"

She shook her head, her expression soft as she looked at him. "It's impossible, I'm sorry. What you want isn't in my wheelhouse, I don't think."

Cora's voice trailed off, a note of hesitation in her throat. The question that remained between them seemed obvious. Was this the end of the line? Perhaps if their conversation had gone a different way it would have been. Looking at him now, she felt herself burning with the desire to finish what they had started.

"I want you to touch me." Cora murmured softly.

Kendall's eyebrows shot upwards as she shifted herself towards him. Wordlessly his hand softly grasped the bare skin of her knee, fingers pressing into her flesh. Slowly he began to trail his hand up her thigh. Cora watched him, biting her lip and inching her legs open.

"Do you have any coke?" Her words travelled on the back of a breathy sigh. Kendall clenched his jaw, studying her. She could see the scales in his mind balancing. Cora inched the silk of her slip further up her thighs, hoping to tip them in her favour.

"Yeah I do." He replied. "Would you like some?"