cannibal; kendall roy

51

Marguerite Roy sat next to her husband, huddled among his new PR team, a watch salesman and Greg. Her eyes glancing over everything she couldn't have, while being wrapped up in a Alaia piece Kendall had gotten her specifically for the evening in question. She tended to run cold these days, so she was thankful for the fur that sat wrapped around her shoulders.

Kendall was knee deep into his glass of champagne, and Greg had already had three, and Marguerite had her small bump of a child and a glass of lemonade. Sugar free. Because Kendall had turned into a helicopter parent the minute he felt like he could see and feel his son.

"Hey Ken, can you give me the green light on this?" Greg asked holding up a watch "It's very expensive."

Marguerite looks up from her phone, over at the watch and wrinkles her nose, it was a Rolex. Sure, a good starter piece for someone looking to stand out among normal people. But for Kendall, it would be tacky. So perfect for Greg?

"I— I mean, I usually just use my phone for all my time needs"

"Yeah, fuck it. Fuck it, man. You deserve it."

"Dude, your phone is a widget. A button. Every janitor in America has one. Your watch? Is a Mona fucking Lisa."

Marguerite couldn't help but laugh at that, nudging Kendall to lean in as she whispered "God, does he think he's Don Draper?"

"Uh, probably."

"That watch is awful" Marguerite mutters "You can buy Rolexes in Costco. But you don't see him saying it."

"Just let Greg have his moment, maybe in uh, fifty years we can laugh about it. You know?"

She shrugs, kissing him gently, tasting the alcohol that was still staining his lips and lingering in his mouth. He was lucky. Being sober was the worst thing to happen to Marguerite. Remembering her days for how long and boring they were, or being faced with how she felt and remembering those thoughts, it was tedious.

And being alone for most of it was the worst.

She despised it.

"You okay?" Kendall asked, looking at her concerned

"I'm just jealous, Ken. You get to fucking drink and do whatever, and I'm stuck like this." She murmurs

He doesn't necessarily have an answer, knowing that Marguerite has been struggling to death when it came to not being able to consume her normal substances, and vomiting her guts out practically everyday.

"You're almost done. Think of it that way." Kendall offers, shrugging his shoulders "I think you look uh, really fucking good though."

"Right. Sure."

"No, seriously Lou." He leans in, whispering into her ear "I wish I could fuck you right here, right now. When I saw you come down the stairs.." he trails off, his eyes looking down at her small bump, where their son has started to appear "When I saw him.. You know I was wanting to rip it all off."

Her face turned a little red "You like that, honey?" Kendall asks, one of his hands then moving up under the fur to rest on her stomach a little "You'll be fine. I'll get you a non alcoholic fucking cocktail. A little mock tail for my Lou."

That wasn't why she wanted the alcohol. But whatever. What could she do about it?

"Thank you, Ken."

He grins before turning to look around the car "Guys, it is game time. And the game is...Good tweet! Bad tweet!"

There is a chorus of applause and shouts as he names the game, and Marguerite feels put off a little by it. As if none of it was real, or these people around them weren't really interested in the game. But rather the free ride, the free drinks and exposure, or the money they were being paid.