"Smile."

Those were Molly Deveraux's words as she leaned in close next to Katherine, beaming for the camera. Katherine wasn't in the mood to smile, she wasn't in the mood to be happy. She was in the mood to break every expensive item around her to get the tumultuous storm inside her body out. The havoc it wrecked in her chest - beating wildly against her ribcage - made her grimace at first, before she tried for a faint smile that made all the paparazzi frantic for a picture, snapping white into her vision and blinding her with a hunger. A hunger both paparazzi and wolves had as they bayed for her flesh and pain. 

And Katherine would let them feast on her bones if her mind didn't haunt her with her mother's words. Stewy was best friends with Kendall Roy, which was where Marienne's sudden hostility came from. Though it was incredibly irrational. There wasn't a world where Katherine would willingly stare at the Roys' ferret faces unless she got a fucking miracle something out of it, much less interact with them. 

Katherine remembered the last time she saw the Roys; the last time she saw her father alive and somewhat well. The flashing white in her eyes threatened to seize her, force her to relieve that memory. Dressed in a pink dress and a ribbon in her hair, a tween Katherine found herself frowning at a boy somewhat her age, at the front garden of his family's vacation home. He was pale, a stark contrast to his oily black hair slicked back, with a few strands of hair breaking free from its gel mould. A polo shirt and parachute shorts fitted his small frame. But that wasn't what made her frown, what unsettled her. It was the shark's grin that lifted his pale pink lips, creasing his beady brown eyes. 

Little Roman Roy had something to show her. 

She could remember clutching her mother's leg, weeping into the soft fabric of her dress as she heard her father's dead body being carted in a stretcher, away from the Roy's Sicily vacation mansion. That marked the end of her idyllic childhood, and the beginning of something much colder and darker. Summer was gone, and the permanent Winter set in, frost creeping its way into her heart. 

Katherine forced herself to bring her attention back to reality. She glanced over at Molly, watching the woman toss her blonde hair back and dazzle the cameras. Molly was her friend since they were toddlers. Sandbox love, and all that. Hell, Molly was probably her only true friend. Molly's heart was a gentle hearth that Katherine would sit next to and let herself be warmed up by, inhaling her soft vanilla scent. 

"We should go inside the club, they can't come in," Katherine spoke, slightly uneasy by the commands the paparazzi was trying to use on them: Katherine, baby, smile a little more. Katherine, are you planning to take over AGM? Molly, show us your tits!

Molly winced after hearing that one guy harass her. "Of course, of course. After you, birthday girl."

The Deveraux ushered Katherine past the bouncers and into the club as cameras snapped pictures behind them. The flashing neon lights and pounding, pulsating music made Katherine wince as she held the tender spot on the side of her head. She just wanted to get the party over with and get drunk enough to take someone home with her. Preferably without her sister's disapproval. Molly noticed her visible unhappiness with a frown, peering at her with worry.

"You okay, babe?"

"Hmm? Yeah, my head just fucking hurts," Katherine tried to play it off as an unbothered statement, to no avail.

"I have some Advil in my purse—"

"No!" The Montague blurted loudly, before regaining her composure. "Sorry, but no thanks. I don't wanna mix alcohol with anything else but alcohol."

Thankfully, Molly dropped the subject and made a beeline to the bar. Which was good, because Katherine was already having to deal with another problem. Jude was sitting with a bunch of girls Katherine knew from college, taking shots with them and letting them have fleeting touches of his muscles through fits of coy giggles. If she could throw up on the spot, she would. Because Jude was half naked and wearing a cowboy outfit: cowboy hat, no shirt, pants, spurs on his boots — the whole stripper package. Of course her baby brother had to embarrass her on her birthday... although it did mean that she was gonna get back at him ten times worse.

Jude saw her and grinned, gesturing for the girls to leave. When they moved to the dance floor, he spoke loud enough for her to hear. "Happy birthday to the most annoying sister ever. Oh wait, that title goes to Liz. Happy birthday to the most ugly sister ever."

"Shut up, slut," Katherine smiled. "I'm just happy that my uglier brother fucked up so badly that I had to go to Hosseini's place to negotiate a little NDA signing and a hand a cheque. Also—"

She spared no time in drawing her right fist back and punching Jude's arm. Jude let out a pained grunt, glaring at her. "Don't give me that look, Judas. Mom beat my ass because she thought I slept with Stewy."

His eyes widened. "Jesus, Kath, I didn't think she would go that far again. Sorry you got your ass beat."

"Uh huh," Katherine sat down next to him. "I'm not covering for you again. You fucked Stewy, you get him to sign it yourself."

"I didn't fuck him," Jude said, defensively. "We just kissed a little... a lot. And with a girl." When he saw Katherine's exasperated face, he added: "We were on molly, okay? We stopped before it became a threesome."

Jesus fucking Christ, she was not hearing this. Her right eye twitched at his words. The least Jude could've done was fuck the man so that the ass whooping she got would've been worth more. She got beat over a little kiss? If Jude wasn't her baby brother, she would've smacked him over the head long ago.

"...I think," Jude frowned. "Now I'm confused. Does him blowing me count as sex? Or should I have—"

"I fucking hate you and I'm not listening to this," Katherine clamped her hands over her ears. 

Jude snorted, but his smile fell when he glanced at a figure behind her. He gestured for Katherine to take her hands from her ears and look behind her. Two mistakes she listened to. Katherine's hands fell from her ears, glancing back to spot their older sister, Elizabeth. She seemed to make a face at everyone partying -- which was weird, because it was a fucking club. Probably because Elizabeth knew she didn't fit in with the night life scene. No, perfect Liz was much better gracing the likes of politicians and snobby socialites at fancy dinners and extravagant galas. Elizabeth certainly couldn't be seen near her younger siblings, always acting like their mom's mouthpiece, parroting her words. Just the sight of Liz left a bitter taste on Katherine's tongue. 

"God, it stinks in here," Elizabeth complained, as she sat next to Katherine. Jude and Katherine exchanged annoyed looks that Elizabeth didn't seem to notice. "Did you really have to spend your birthday here? I could've organised a dinner party - I still could. You could do without the entourage; you don't even know most of these people."

"I'm fine. Thanks," Katherine crossed her arms. "I mean, I had to suffer a beating from mom to cover up a mistake for your husband's campaign, but whatever."

"You mean, your mistake? That man is close with the Roy family, you know this. Mom probably smacked some sense into you so you can stop sleeping with the worst possible people. It's not mine or mom's fault you dropped your panties for Stewy Hosseini."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "I didn't! Jude did!"

Jude scoffed. "Oh, so we're pointing fingers now? Real slick, Kath. Like you don't fuck that pathetic bell man that guards mom just so you can talk to her. Stewy's got money and looks to his name, what does Chris have? Coupons for Walmart? Huh? Discounts for Calvin Klein?"

"Oh, I see now. Stewy blew you so good, you're here dick riding him because you never got to fuck him."

"At least he could afford me. You're out here giving your vagina to the poor like it's charity."

Katherine glared at him. "Shut the fuck up or I'll slap the shit out of you."

He barked out a laugh. "Try it and I'll slap you back, bitch."

Elizabeth slammed her hands down on the table loudly with an expression of irritation, catching the younger siblings' attention. "Oh my God, can we please have one good conversation? Please? I'm tired of resenting you both, but I'm also tired of the constant arguing. I just want to be happy with my family, because you know what? You both were my children first. You were mine before you were our mom's. So can we... can we just... love each other? Even if it's pretend?"

Just like that, the rage simmering behind the surface of Katherine's skin threatened to resurface. Elizabeth made it out like they denied her the family bond she wanted. Katherine could remember all the times throughout her teenage years that Elizabeth wasn't there for her when she needed her big sister. Now... now Elizabeth was playing the victim, like Katherine and Jude had stolen her chance of happiness right from under her. 

Scowling, Katherine stood abruptly. "You ruined any chances of us ever being united as siblings, Liz. You were never there when I needed you the most, when I had to deal with those pervert journalists making a countdown to my eighteenth birthday so they could fucking celebrate when they'd be able to sleep with me. You were never there when Jude needed to be protected from bullies at Saint Andrews. And now you fucking ruined my birthday with your bullshit about wanting to be needed so that you could look good for the cameras. So you know what? Fuck you and your stupid husband."

Before Elizabeth and Jude could react verbally to her words, Katherine stormed off towards the back entrance of the club, pushing past dancing friends and drunk strangers. As she stepped outside into the bleak night, she pulled a spare cigarette she hid in between her chest and the lining of her bra, cursing at the realisation that she had no lighter on her. The Montague sucked in a sharp breath, tampering down the urge to scream and kick shit. 

"So you're a smoker? No wonder you look so old," A new voice spoke from her right. 

Katherine growled, glowering at the person who spoke their unwanted opinion. Even when it'd been twenty two odd years since she last spoke to him, she still recognised his face from newspapers and video interviews and twitter. She was a couple inches taller than him, not accounting the kitten heels she was wearing that added an extra inch to her height. His hair was still dark, though not slicked back with gel as it was when they were twelve, with strands of his hair falling to the left side of his forehead. Dark eyes gleamed with boyish mischief. 

"Forbes Magazine said I looked forever twenty five, dick," She replied, curtly.

"If you say so," Roman Roy said in a sing-song tone, his smirk conveying the playfulness Katherine wasn't interested in encouraging. He saw her face and tutted. "Tsk. C'mon, relax, Miss Independent. It's not that bad of a thing. I mean, I for one think it's totally sexy."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you even here? It's fucking creepy that you're hanging around a club's back entrance."

"What's wrong with me? Good question, haven't cracked that one yet," Roman tilted his head, suddenly serious. "And I'm here because I was looking for you, Odessa. You're the one that I want."

Katherine stared at him with utter disgust, making him crack a grin. "Kidding, obviously. I'd rather put my dick in a blender. I'm here as, uh, an ambassador. From the big guy upstairs. Y'know, there's some chatter going on behind the scenes: blah blah blah, you're kissing up to Stewy, blah blah blah. Figured you'd like to propose a little deal to your mom."

"Fuck off, she doesn't wanna hear it and neither do I. Let me have my birthday in peace."

"C'mon, not even a little? Not even with this—" He pulled out a lighter from his coat pocket, holding it between two fingers, catching her attention for a moment. "A car's waiting for us. We can celebrate your ninety fourth birthday over a bottle of Chardonnay and a nice negotiation like it's fucking... girl's night, or something."

"Thirty fourth. It's my thirty fourth birthday, fuck-head."

"Whatever."

"And tonight is my fucking night," Katherine stepped towards him. "I'm not gonna let anyone else ruin it for me. You wanna talk business? We'll negotiate next week on my terms. And I swear to God, if you or your stupid family rope in another Montague to pull a fast one on me?"

She grabbed a fistful of his coat, pulling him towards her. "I'll eat you alive, little Roy."

Roman's gaze flitted between Katherine's eyes, rampant with an emotion she couldn't identify. Now that she was close to him, she could see that his eyes weren't black like a demon's, they were a soft dark brown, like potted soil. The cologne he was wearing was light but musky, and woodsy. There were hints of bergamot and sandalwood she could catch, though not interesting enough of a scent to linger on. That, and the mint tinge of his warm, shallow breaths made her nose twitch. She was mildly surprised that the creature did indeed care about his own hygiene. 

He didn't seem angered or snarky or even mildly annoyed, to her dismay. For a brief moment, his lips seemed to be ever so slightly curved to a smile, delighted by her proximity to him. She yearned to land a punch on his pearly teeth, to see his little ferret face not give her that stupid fucking smirk like he had the upper hand. She didn't need him. He needed her. 

Katherine plucked the lighter from his fingers, before he could respond, releasing him from her grasp. "Thanks for the lighter." She began walking backwards towards the back entrance door, sarcastically adding: "And pleasure doing business with you, Romey."