Rose Tinted Reality - A Succession Story

Meth-heads and Face-plants

The two are given a room to share, and Piper supposes she shouldn't have expected to have her own place to sleep. It's a rather large room, at least she thinks that until she catches a glimpse of the other rooms scattered throughout the house. Large rooms with huge beds covered in lavish comforters and wooden dressers for clothes. It's amazing how impossibly expensive every single item she sees is, no matter how insignificant. Even tiny details like the silverware and plush throw pillows.

Their room, while smaller than the rest, is still extravagant enough that she finds herself spending several minutes just exploring it. Roman is off in therapy, huddled in one of the sitting rooms on some lavish couch while his father tries to gaslight the therapist. The thought halts her from her search through the closet, which is empty and ready for her and Roman's clothes, not that she planned on unpacking for just one night.

What exactly was going on out there? The thought of whatever nasty words were being flown between family members right now puts her on edge, so much so that when there's a knock at her door, she jumps. In only a second, she opens the door.

"Oh, hey Piper."

It's Tom's voice, quiet and subdued, as though he's talking to a child. She supposes that she is a child compared to him since he must be twice her age. All of these people are older than her, even Roman, who she's realized has nearly ten years on her twenty-six. To make up for this image, she tries to present herself as old as she can by holding herself proudly and meeting Tom's gaze with her own. She hopes it's unreadable and her anxiety is impossible to pick up on. By how gentle his voice remains, she supposes that she's failed.

"Hello Tom," she says, glancing behind him for Shiv. She's not there, obviously, she's at therapy. With Roman. And Logan.

Thankfully Tom responds quickly, ceasing her spiraling thoughts.

"You know, Willa and I were sitting by the pool. With Marcia," he starts, and Piper finds herself thinking of the older woman, perched elegantly by the pool watching over the partners of the assembled children. Partner. That's what she is, too.

"That sounds nice," Piper says, wondering if this is an invitation. Tom answers her question without her having to ask it.

"Marcia asked for you to join us," he says, and she swears that his voice sounds strained when he talks about her. Piper doesn't have to wonder why, since any woman married to Logan Roy couldn't be very pleasant. She must also be persuasive since Tom is here asking for Piper on her behalf.

"Really?" she asks, her surprise genuine. He nods, stepping away from her door and gesturing for her to follow. Reluctantly, she does. The two walk silently through the house, slipping out a sliding door onto a stone patio that surrounds a steaming pool. The air is hot and stuffy, so dry that when she inhales, her tongue turns to sand. She feels better once she takes a seat next to the others in the padded chairs shaded from the sun by a decorative tent. A drink finds its way into her hands, and the cold liquid is so refreshing she doesn't even think about what it is she's drinking until she's downed most of the glass's contents.

Marcia is staring at her quizzically and Piper realizes it must be alcoholic.

"Hot...uh, hot weather," she croaks out, setting her drink down on a nearby glass table.

"It is brutal out here," Willa says, her expression withered. She must not like the desert, and yet, here she is stuck in one. For once, the dread that Piper feels around her melts into pity.

"You don't like it?" Piper asks, a moment of weakness letting her sorrow shine in her eyes. Willa looks down uncomfortably, staring into her drink with pursed lips.