cannibal; kendall roy

13

Marguerite stepped into the car, buckling her seat belt and lighting her cigarette—practically in the nude, her lingerie that had been on underneath the dress hadn't covered much more.

By now, the effects of her drinks were settling in and this was one of the rare times that Marguerite wasn't allowing herself to feel insanely depressed when she was intoxicated.

It probably had to do with the fact that she felt jumpy.

She had been riled up and angry, instead of mopey, for once in her life.

She wasn't locked up with her father's diaries in her little castle in the sky. Instead, here she was with disposable income in the middle of fucking now where. Her first trip since her unavoidable exile to New York.

The smashing of the glass had made her ears ring a little, so she couldn't hear Louisa's initial confusion as the driver started taking off.

The poor girl.

She really had no clue who she had gotten assigned to. The chronically depressed, fucked up girl who refused help and therapy, the girl who refused to be wrong.

Finally, her concerns began to scratch through Marguerite's high and peace.

"Louisa, are you saying something?" Marguerite mutters, twisting her nose a little.

"Yes—for starters, where are your clothes?"

"Get me something new. I'm thinking Alaia. Archival. There should be a bag in the back, no?"

"Right. I'll get that in a minute." She stumbles around, her legs kicking up in the air, as she begins to dig through the trunk.

"Did you get what I asked you for?"

"I called the um, numbers, and yes. I think so? They said they were out at some sort of party already, and I figured that should work?"

She raises an eyebrow "What kind of party?"

"He didn't say, but it's sketchy? You wanted that right? You said dirty, hellish?"

Marguerite rolls her eyes "Yes. Do you know why?"

Louisa doesn't answer, still searching for the bag that had been packed away somewhere in the trunk.

"Because nobody can find me down in those dumps. Makes my life easier."

Louisa doesn't say anything once more, only she scrolls through her phone frantically trying to find something else to do. "So, are we going? Do you want me to call back?"

"Do I have anything else to do?"

"There was supposed to be dinner-"

"Fuck that. Does it look like I want to go?"

Once again, Louisa doesn't answer, taking the answer for what it was.

____________________

Kendall Roy had been been late to his future brother in law's bachelor party, and to be quite frank he didn't care.

Why should he? In his eyes, Tom Wambsgans was a fucking parasite. The little freak had latched onto his sister, and then her last name, and soon enough he'd be attached to Logan like a fucking minnow on a shark.

Besides, he had been innovating. Well, as he'd put it, he'd been tech financing. Which meant: trying to keep himself busy in the time he'd bought himself since being fired.

Furthermore, Kendall was just wasting time.

He had tried weaning himself off of the blow, but the urge to go back towards it just got stronger. He liked how confident in his emptiness he felt after it. How his feelings turned into jello, and his insides became brittle. He loved it. Which is how addiction works. You love it until you can't function without it.