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“ SON OF A BUCKET ! my parents are gonna kill me, ” cece exclaimed as she shot up from her seat, her poor overbitten nails finally forgotten as she started to paced in front of the mechanic. “ i mean, they’re not really gonna kill me. that’s just a thing people say, right? even if they don’t mean it ? ” the panic was evident in her every move; the small gauze on the upper left side of her forehead doing nothing to make her seem less crazy. “ i just thought that if i convince them i slipped in the bath and got the dents fixed the same day, i can get away with it.  ”  the blonde chuckled at sodapop’s attempt at a solution, offering him a warm smile as she takes a pause from her mini-breakdown. transportation was never a problem for cece, having grown up with her own driver who took her all around nyc, but to her being gifted her own car—a luxury european make and model, obviously— meant even more freedom and independence. “ i don’t think i can uber to where i’m going, and i just... i’m sick of flying everywhere all alone in a stinkin’ jet ! of course, when i start to plan a road trip back to new york, that’s when my luck just happens to run out. ”

Feeling a bead of sweat slide down his forehead Sodapop reached up and swiped it away, leaving a smudge of oil in its place. It was hot in the garage, especially bent under the hood of a car. His fingers were black as night, scars running up the length of tanned and grease-stained arms, as he dug around the engine seeking out the problem. “Ah, there you are,” he muttered to himself, finding the damage. With a sigh, Soda pulled himself out from where he was bent under the hood. Running a dirty rag over his sweaty brow, he turned to the driver with a sympathetic grin. “Looks like a radiator leak. It’s gotta be replaced. We can do that for ya here of course, but it’ll take a couple days to get the parts so we’ll have to keep her here for a while. I’m afraid you can’t drive off with this as is. Leaky radiator could overheat and cause an engine fire.” Slinging his rag over his neck, he let a lopsided grin take to his features. “Sorry for the inconvenience, but safety is top priority. Thank god for Uber, am I right?” 

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bobbi.

The house that loomed before her was unlike anything she had ever seen. It wasn’t to say that the Moore family lived in a hovel - the home she grew up in back in Seattle was nice enough, but it could never compete with the building that stood before her. Very few things in life truly intimidated Bobbi Moore, but the home occupied by Kathryn Merteuil made it on the list. Or maybe it was the person who lived inside that caused slight anxiety. It had been a long while since Bobbi had anything exciting to work on for the Chicago Sun-Times. One would think that she would learn to stop snooping into other people’s lives after the disaster that was her last lucrative assignment, but some habits died hard. Of course, it was obvious to anyone why she was so interested in doing some sort of portrait of the disgraced heiress. An exclusive would be enough to gain back some of that clout she once had, to get her back on the path towards the kind of journalism that Bobbi wanted to produce.

It was with slight trepidation that she entered into the home, caught a little off guard by Kathryn’s greeting. As the woman’s lips brushed over her cheeks, she steeled herself against the blush that was threatening to creep. Bobbi Moore didn’t blush, especially for heiresses that were very likely playing some kind of role. She was astute enough to figure that Kathryn saw something she could gain from this little project, but she wasn’t going to let her fool her. Not completely. Just enough to get a good story out of her. “No thank you,” she responded evenly to the offer of a drink, following after the other woman. She tried not to gawk at the room, at all the trappings of refinery of wealth that lay around her. It made her a little uncomfortable, though she chalked it up to the fact that she felt rather underdressed in her vintage band tee and ripped denim.

Her gaze shifted towards the artwork her hostess was admiring just a short moment before awkwardly determining a spot to sit down. Digging out a creased moleskin and fountain pen from her bag, she flipped to the first blank page she could find and prepared to take notes. It seemed that Kathryn wasn’t wishing to dawdle and neither was Bobbi. The sooner they started talking, the sooner she could go. “Thanks for the warning, but I think I’m smart enough to discern what’s real and what’s rather sensationalized. I work for a publication dedicated to truth, not a gossip rag.” Uncapping her pen, she pressed the tip against the page and looked up to Kathryn just in time to catch her gaze. “Besides, this piece is about your truth, and no one else’s. I’m interested in what you have to say and not what’s been spread through the grapevine time and time again.”

She squinted slightly at Kathryn’s next words, conflicted over whether or not she was being fed lines or if there was any ounce of sincerity in her voice. Despite herself, she smiled ever slightly. “I guess time will tell whether or not either one of us regrets this. But if we’re going to have success here then you have to promise no bullshit. I want this to be raw and as intimate as possible. No lies, no cover ups, no rehearsed prose. Just unfiltered, unapologetic you. There’s no sense in dragging all of this out again if you’re not going to be completely honest with me. And if that doesn’t work for you… We can stop right here.” She raised a brow, as if daring the woman to drop any and all inhibitions she may have for what they were about to embark on. “But if that does work for you… Then let’s start from the beginning - tell me who is Kathryn Merteuil? Outside of the scandal and the glamour and everything that comes with that. Tell me who you really are.”

IT WAS CLEAR TO KATHRYN that bobbi moore wasn’t as easily played as the rest of the other journalists she met before, but that wasn’t to say it was impossible. she realized this early on that sweet-talk and pretty looks wasn't what was going to win her over, and considering she didn't have much of a reputation to uphold anymore, kathryn decided to change her tracks. desperately wishing that the sangria in her hand had the kick it was supposed to, kathryn could not keep still — she had to do something, to distract herself from the fact that she was negotiating the terms of her redemption to an unknown journalist. “ i, kathryn odette merteuil, ” she started, taking her time with her each word. “ ... am in desperate need of a dip. ” with that, kathryn moved out of the room and took a few strides to reach the outdoor pool. as soon as she was out the house, kathryn pushed the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her topless in her underwear. other than the fact that she spent her entire life modelling, kathryn has never really been self-conscious about her body. she took a few steps to grab the bikini bra that hung on one of the lounge chairs, noting through her periphals the reaction of the woman with her. “ would you please tie me up ? ” she called out to bobbi, holding the fabric against her chest as the straps hung loosely on her sides. “ merci, ” kathryn thanked before walking to the opposite end of the pool, far from the journalist, her eyes flitting from the water to bobbi. “ there are new swimsuits in shower over there if you want to hop in — the water's heated ! ” she called out before jumping into a dive, aware and unapologetic at how she was completely derailing the interview. 

contrary to her words before, kathryn had no intention of finishing early. it has been a while since she had company, and if she was going to end up scrutinized and emblazoned on paper by someone from shermer of all places, tests had to be passed. she made us of the brief moment in the pool to think, swimming under the lights towards bobbi on the other side, contemplating the best possible way to go about this. as she reached the edge near the journalist, she rose from the water and chucked as she did, slicking her hair back to remove the stray locks from her face; every slight movement demanding bobbi’s full attention. “ you’re a demanding woman, aren’t you, miss moore ? ” kathryn said as her eyes locked on bobbi’s before roaming her entire face, taking note of her brown eyes and strong jaw. she was easily attractive, and there was a charm to how she sported herself — all grunge and hard in her graphic tee and tattered jeans. “ i would know; i’m the same. ” kathryn smirked as she brought her attention back to bobbi’s face, remembering the conditions she just laid out. “ you told me what you want, now it's time to listen to what i want.

“ i want you, roberta jolene moore. ”  there wasn’t a hint of irony in kathryn’s words, each decision precisely calculated  — choosing to use bobbi’s full name to make a point about just how much homework she has done on her end. well-aware of how easily she could be misconstrued, after a couple of beats, kathryn let out a small chuckle. her head tilted ever-so-slightly to the side — every little action perfectly timed to elicit a specific response. “ i want you raw and as intimate as possible, ” she added, echoing bobbi’s own words as she pushed her elbows straight, rising a bit from the edge of the water. “ i think it's only fair since you want the same thing from me. you didn't really expect that i'd just strip myself bare just like that, did you ? ” with that, kathryn emerged from the water and the contrast between her words and actions was even more obvious as the cool night’s wind hit her barely-clothed physique. “ metaphorically, at least, ” she smirked as she went towards the lounge chairs, grabbing a towel from a table and softly patting herself dry. “ if it's honesty you want; you would have to earn it. to get an answer, you have to give an answer. quid pro quo, miss moore. ” kathryn treaded the line with her actions, kissing cheeks and stripping down to her underwear, but she made sure to maintain formality with her words. “ i did my research as well as one always should — whether or not this succeeds, you have far more to gain from this than me. i can't have you holding all the aces; that's just bad business. ”

kathryn took a seat on one of the chairs near bobbi as a fresh warm towel hung over her shoulders, barely covering her skin, but provided just enough protection against the cold. “ so this what i propose we do: i say the when and where subject to your schedule, and you don't have to worry about a thing except listening, asking, scribling on your notebook, and sharing in return. ” kathryn had this small smile on her face, visibly entertained by their situation. if bobbi were to refuse, kathryn wouldn’t lose much except for some other form of amusement. she was sure that bobbi wanted this more than she led on with her strong facade and ultimatums.“ how about we start now ? but i just have to say, we need to change the question. the whole ‘ who i really am ’ angle is a load of bullshit. pardon my french, but it is, especially this early on. in the spirit of being honest, i was a little disappointed, miss moore. i expected more than a question that you should know is virtually impossible to answer with any sort of quality, but because i like you, we’ll try again. tell me about your family, your childhood. ” the truth was kathryn already knew the basics about bobbi and her family — their names, origins, occupations, and more — all stored in a handy folder in her room courtesy of her private investigator. she hasn’t bothered reading past the first page, but she had it ready. it’s always better to be safe than sorry; kathryn learned that the hard way. “ all truth, no holds barred. we are building trust here, after all, so go grab a suit and take a dip, or don’t. do what ever makes you comfortable. it’s just us here. ” with a soft smile, kathryn took a quick glance around to prove her point. “ besides, i don’t bite that hard. ”

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A GOOD OLD FASHIONED ... / @tempestuousheinousbitch​

THERE WAS A QUOTE ABOUT FAME AND FORTUNE that kathryn merteuil used to live and swear by, but for the life of her, could not recall today. it only seemed fitting as she walked towards the doors of her new home in suburban illinois, about to welcome a nominal journalist to her house. it was a calculated decision to ask her works to take the night off. kathryn has come to learn that the poor do not respond well to the plentiful, and considering the plan was to win over one bobbi moore, kathryn had to look and act the part.

“ bonsoir, mademoiselle, et bienvenue, ” kathryn greeted sweetly as she opened the door for the blonde, her smile reaching her cheeks as her wine-colored slip dress heavily contrasted the gilded decor behind her. without a moment’s hesitation, the french heiress gently took bobbi’s hand and leaned in to place a soft kiss on the other woman’s cheeks — one on each side and a second longer than usual for good measure. “ would you like something to drink ? ”  kathryn asked as she made her way towards the drinks cart in the parlor, a glass of virgin sangria already resting in her hand. “ relax, ma cherie, it’s just sparkling water, ” she added with a laugh as she made her way into the sitting area that was too large for one resident. “ i know the night is young, but let’s cut to the chase. that way you and i can finish early and have time for other activities. i’m sure you’ve done your research, but for the record: only the files —the handful of videos and tasteful photos— courtesy of my hacked cloud account, and the rehab photos that followed shortly after are undoctored. the rest that have been circulating the web are products of pure fiction. ” she said, sounding completely rehearsed and detached as she stopped just behind her sofa, admiring the wasserschlangen ii, an original klimt that hung so casually above the unused fireplace. “ surely you must know that you’re not the first journalist with a twinkle in their pretty brown eyes that has shown interest in quote-unquote redeeming me, ” she stated as she took a sip from her glass, slowly making her way towards bobbi. “ but if i’m being honest, if it’s not too cheesy bordering on lies, i have a weirdly good feeling about this,” kathryn added, her eyes unwaveringly locked onto bobbi’s as if she hasn’t said the same line to the handful of others she bothered to entertain. “ that said, i’m all ears and all yours. you’re not gonna make me regret this, are you, miss moore ? ”

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alec.

I mean, there is always that possibility but there also is that chance he’s not and then you’re hurting the poor dudes feelings. I say give him the advice, leave the door open just in case and if it is about you then politely decline him and tell him he should leave.

Y’know, I like that better. Willa was really worried about me getting fired or whatever; I don’t get it. Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Cece. That’s short for Cecile, but Cece’s fine. Who are you?

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jaxx.

Well I might think it tastes like dirt water but I do know how to make a wicked cup, so your welcome hot stuff. And nah, you were cute still. Somehow.

Sure, real-housewife cute, I bet. Thanks for the generous compliment, Jaxx, I’ve just been desperately starved of them lately.

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alec.

I think you should definitely tell him to go for it. You only live once, right?

Exactly! But my friend, who also teaches at the high school, just told me I probably shouldn’t. She thinks it might be me he has a crush on, which I think is just crazy. Still, she was very pushy about it, so I guess there goes that for him.

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jaxx. 

Nah it’s just fun to bug you. And I can imagine it rhymes with got lucked?

Something you and the rest of the world share, apparently. Initially, yes, but I must say the feeling has significantly decreased. Thanks for the coffee. I was being a bit unbearable.

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jaxx.

Like your soul, got it Princess. Spitting is gross so fuck that and I’m Jaxx.

As expected, the handful of people in Shermer who do know of me think they know me. How charming. Normally, I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but since you know me oh-so-well, I I would assume you already know what I think.

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jaxx.

I dunno what you said and I’m too lazy to translate it but I’m sure it was just as charming as it seemed. Oh Kathryn, darling. You really are wound up aren’t ya? All of this over a little bit of coffee? Tell you what, I’ll make you some fancy ass coffee and we’ll get you to unwind a little, deal?

Fine, and make it black. But first, may I at least know the name of the person who may or may not spit in my coffee?

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jaxx.

You’re…somethin’ that’s for sure. But I’ll bite. I dabble in the art of selling things that make people feel good, for five minutes or a life time if you wanna be reliant on the stuff. That’s all.

That sounds like some Disneyland Magic type of stuff. Very cool. Anyway, I’m Cecile, but you can call me Cece — it’s way shorter. What’s your name?

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willa.

Oh wow, he just decided to gift your family a piano? What do your parents do again, Cece? And that’s so sweet, it really is, but I don’t think we’d be able to fit it in my apartment. Why not donate it to the school’s music room? And if you still want to teach Auggie something I can bring him to the music room once school lets out?

Yeah, he did! He was my professor back in Julliard and was always trying to get me to learn more piano, but I just prefer other string instruments. And gee, how do I explain this? Uhh, ma’s a computer whiz who wrote a book in the 90s which about web design — pa’s a former graphic arts professor — and it totally hit. It sold a bunch of copies, and three years later they eventually launched this Internet based training company that’s LinkedIn bought years ago. That’s, uhh, sorta my go-to answer. I don’t really know how to explain it well, so did that make sense? They also haven’t worked in a while because they’re pretty old. They mostly just have people doing running the company for them which is how they managed to move to Shermer with me. 

I’ll have to talk to the principal about that, but I would love to teach little Auggie after school!  Honestly, ma’s been trying to get the school to build a nicer music room, so maybe that’ll be the first piece there. Gosh, this is so exciting. Anyway, what’s been going on with you?

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willa.

Ah. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier, but we never really spoke much about his family when we were together.

Thank you. And I have a feeling you’ll continue to pry until I answer, so if you must know, Sebastian and I met during senior year of college. And we dated until he left. Of course, he didn’t exactly tell me he had plans to leave, and I hadn’t heard anything from him since. Which was hurtful, considering I thought we were on the way to something serious. Oh and then, the cheery on top of the sundae was that when we spoke again, there was no attempt at an apology, he just tried to use some pathetic pick up line on me. Like that would work after everything.

Yeah, whatever, don’t worry about it. And that’s Seb for you. He gets a little too close, he shuts down and out comes the pick up lines. Doesn’t surprise me too since you look exactly like his type — pale skin, slim figure, and long brown hair. Anyway, that’s all in the past though, right? Must’ve been, what, roughly six years? How about we forget about Sebastian, and you tell me about you? I could use a friend here in Shermer, and anyone who has survived Sebastian for that long is more than okay in my book.

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willa.

Of course. How was your weekend?

It was fine. I mean, I had the weekly lunch out with my parents. We flew to New York to meet with a few of their friends. It was a little boring, but they’re always so happy. Anyway, this music guy who was bragging about new branches in Illinois said he has a gift for us. Turns out he wants to give us a baby grand piano. My parents were too polite to tell him we already own several, so I have to find a new home for it. I was thinking, if you wanted it, we could put it in your place? I could even teach little Auggie some little pieces! 

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willa.

Willa Hargrove, nice to meet you Kathryn. And while I appreciate you apologizing for him, he’s a grown man and I won’t accept one unless it comes from his mouth.

It sounds like you know a lot about him. Are you two close?

Technically, he’s my stepbrother. Frankly, I think we’ve outgrown the term. Our parents remarried when we were teenagers. Since his father and my mother were together, Sebastian and I had to be as well. We lived under the same roof, but we knew each other before the matrimony.

Pleasure to meet you, Willa. You have a pretty name; it suits you. Now, I don’t mean to judge or pry, but what was it he did that was so awful? I just... I know Sebastian so well, and even if he can be quite the womanizer, I do still care about him. We’ll be in Shermer for a while from the looks of it, and I’d hate for there to be any sort of bad blood in such a small town. After all, it is forgiveness that frees us, isn’t it?

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