Chapter Text
Eva Stratt hated weeks like this. Weeks where she had to deal with people outside of the project for the sake of PR. Not to mention she was already having a considerably rough few days. She, and of course Grace, had been flown out to some gala in London to coax a few more rich buggers to contribute to the project. For the sake of keeping a low budget, she had dictated that rooms would be shared. She was sharing a room with Grace, obviously.
They were getting ready for the gala, both procrastinating putting on the fancy tailored clothes that didn't suit them at all. Stratt had barely convinced the tailor to add sleeves, but her collar and shoulders were still exposed. She hated it.
"It could always be worse." Grace chimed sympathetically. "It's not outrageously gaudy."
"Easy for you to say; you don't have to wear it." Stratt muttered, more waspish than intended.
"True." Grace nodded. "Very true."
The dress wasn't as offensive as Stratt was making it out to be in her head, it was just a simple navy floor-length gown, originally it had been an off the shoulder style, but now it had bishop sleeves at her request. The satin wasn't bad either; it was high quality and soft. No, the reason she hated it so much was because of how low cut it was. It wasn't anything extreme, of course, but any neckline that was below her collarbone was too low for her.
"I shouldn't have let Rousselot choose the style without checking back with me.." Stratt complained with a sigh. It was her own fault for refusing to go with her, really. The lead of the project's PR team had an eye for fashion, yes, but was about as good at reading Stratt as Grace was at reading dutch.
"In all fairness, she didn't really ask for your input." Grace agreed distractedly.
"I'm being childish about it, it's just a dress." Stratt scolded herself, pacing her side of the room. "It shouldn't bug me this much."
"You're not being childish, I think." He assured. He could see that she was a good portion more anxious and fidgety than usual, but put it down to nerves and her need to be productive all the time.
Stratt eventually stopped pacing and picked up the dress. "I'm going to change in the bathroom." She muttered. Better to get used to it a little before she'd have to mask.
She changed in a rush, frowning at her reflection once she got the dress on. She hated having her shoulders exposed, always had. The scar on her left shoulder stood out against her pale skin, which would undoubtedly get her many unwanted, prying questions. The sweetheart cut was not helping matters, exaggerating her chest in a way she disliked.
"Just one night, you can handle it for one single night." Stratt muttered, looking up to meet her own eyes in the mirror. She startled slightly at her own appearance; eyes wide and vacant despite feeling uncomfortably present. She brushed it off, instead focusing on putting on makeup and keeping her head on straight.
Grace was in his suit by the time Stratt got herself together. It was the same navy as her dress. He looked odd in such formal attire, but in a charming sort of way.
"You look nice." Grace offered with a small, genuine smile.
"Thank you." Stratt replied, though she knew she sounded unsure. The words felt stilted in her mouth. "You look good as well."
She silently hoped he wouldn't ask about the scar as she started digging through her suitcase for the necklace she was planning to wear. It was a plain silver collar with stars pressed into it that matched the ring on her left middle finger.
"If you don't mind me asking—" Grace began cautiously, only to be cut off.
"I messed up hooking a stage light to the rafters and it came down on my shoulder the second I let go." Stratt snapped, surprising both of them. She rarely mentioned anything about her teenage years beyond the fact she'd been a stage manager to explain why she could command a room so easily.
"Uh.. right." Grace blinked, bewildered. "I could braid your hair in a way that'll hide the scar..?"
"Yes. That would be appreciated." Stratt nodded with a sigh. She didn't know what had gotten into her today.
She let Grace style her hair into a loose braid over her shoulder, completely hiding the scar. With that taken care of, she clipped on her necklace and fixed her earrings. It wasn't until she clipped on the shawl that came with the dress that she felt a little more grounded. It was still off her shoulders but it covered the cut of the dress to a more comfortable degree.
"Ready?" Stratt asked as she put on her fancy heels. She was weirdly anxious to get the evening over with.
"I think so." Grace gave her a thumbs up.
It was five in the morning, the day before leaving for the gala, when a call cut through Eva's barely woken up haze as she packed up for the gala. She only vaguely recognized the number, but then again, she didn't recognize many of the numbers that called these days. She smothered a yawn, cleared her throat and picked up.
"Eva Stratt speaking." She did her best to keep the sleepiness out of her tone.
"This is your fucking fault, you insolent girl!" Jolena Stratt's harsh, furious voice startled Eva out of feeling sleepy.
"What—? What's my fault now?" She sighed.
"You're a terrible sister, you know that? A horrible influence!"
"What did Leida do this time?" Eva bit back the annoyance, forcing her voice to angle more towards worry or something resembling it.
"Your sister is dead and you have the audacity—"
Eva's blood ran cold, whatever tirade her mother was on drowned out by ringing in her ears. She wasn't told about that. The shock nearly made her drop her phone entirely, nevermind just freezing in place.
"What…?" She forced herself to speak. "What happened? Why didn't you lead with— why wasn't I informed immediately?!"
"She would still be here if you didn't feel the need to outshine her so completely! You always needed to be better than her, didn't you?!"
"What are you talking about?!" Eva snapped, patience evaporating entirely. "Tell me what happened!"
"Car crash." Jolena hissed. "Don't even pretend to care, I don't even want you at her funeral! It's your fault, you hear me?! It's your fucking fault!"
"Mm." She could only make a sound to acknowledge the response after hanging up. Her hands were already trembling as she dropped her phone on the bed. She didn't even know what was making her so upset.
Aleida hadn't spoken to her in years. The last time they'd spoken face to face was.. their father's funeral. Six years ago. Eva hadn't missed her. In fact, she'd hardly even thought about her at all. But the idea that she was gone- the fact she was dead- felt horribly, achingly wrong. Aleida was healthy and lively, she couldn't have just—? Sure, she was reckless and stupid when driving but how—?
Tears blurred her vision, pouring down her face like rain. She didn't understand any of it; why she was upset, why she was the one to live longer, why it hurt so much, why, why why??? Every memory of Aleida played behind her eyes, filled with contempt and jealousy and resentment. The bitterness mixed sickeningly with guilt and grief and it was just too much.
"God, snap out of it! You shouldn't even care!" She pounded rapidly against the side of her head until it hurt. How dare Aleida affect her like this even after so long of hating her. How dare she demand so much attention. The guilt of resenting her twin for this was overwhelming.
When she finally managed to take a breath and think, Eva found that she couldn't put her mask back up. Her usual methods to ground herself just weren't working. She choked on a half-crazed laugh at the absurdity of it all. The end of the world wasn't enough to phase her, but Aleida broke her without even being there.
By the time she managed to pull herself together and scrape together a mask of her usual apathy she still felt off, but there was nothing she could do about it at that point. She focused on bracing herself for the upcoming gala and forced Aleida's death out of her mind.
Stratt made it exactly twenty minutes before socializing felt physically painful. She let Grace take the lead on conversations and bore people into walking away by explaining science the non-teacher way.
She tried not to drink much alcohol but she felt too anxious not to. Grace kept an eye on it regardless of her glares at his disapproval. Her head spun long before she was anywhere close to drunk, unfamiliar energy buzzing in her chest. She found herself lost in her own head, staring with wide eyes at the decor and ceiling as her thoughts whirled in a rapid vortex.
It wasn't often that Stratt had this much energy, even if her sleep schedule had improved since the fainting incident last December. She began to feel off-put by the uncharacteristic liveliness, if she was being properly honest with herself. She disliked being so disconnected from her own head. She hoped nobody noticed the fact she was talking rapidly and losing her trains of thought quickly.
"We should leave soon." Stratt muttered quietly as soon as she got a chance to pull Grace aside. "I don't.. Well, I feel fine but not really? I can't seem to get my thoughts in order and—"
"Yeah." Grace put a hand on her arm, halting her before she started rambling yet again. "I'll find us an out."
"I'm.. god, I don't know what's gotten into me today." Stratt lamented, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind. "I feel like I'm.. I need to take a walk."
"I'll meet you outside, then." Grace nodded. "I'll sort out excuses, don't worry."
Stratt stepped away with a grateful smile. She walked quickly to the nearest door, and nearly broke into a run the second she was out of sight. Normally she wouldn't be so impulsive but she needed to get out of this place as soon as she physically could.
"Can't run in this dumb fucking dress—" Stratt muttered, doing her best to gather the fabric. "What did I do to piss Rousselot off enough to pick a fucking ballgown for me?"
She kept up her pace until she reached the exit. She shoved the door open, expecting a lot more resistance than it actually held.
"Shit—!" Eva yelped as the door swung open and she fell hard on her right wrist. She heard something crunch.
"Ugh.. fuck this fucking night.." She muttered, picking herself up. Nothing exactly hurt from the fall, but her face still burned with embarrassment. She found a spot on the steps to sit down and wait for Grace, ignoring how much she was suddenly trembling.
She took the time to inspect her wrist. There was a small scrape on the heel of her hand and the joint looked slightly swollen— but she could still move it without much issue. She decided to ignore the possible injury, folding her arms to hide it.
Grace would fuss over it for hours if he saw, and Eva really did not want to deal with medical bullshit right now. It didn't hurt, it was probably fine. The trembling was probably just the fact her heart was trying to escape her chest, no other reason.
She sighed. She left her phone with Grace. She had nothing but her own thoughts and the dizziness from the alcohol. It didn't take long for her thoughts to wander back to Aleida. Curiosity about what might have happened. Guilt for not caring all that much. Grief despite being effectively strangers.
Eva curled in on herself, willing herself not to cry. What was wrong with her today? Why was she acting like this? She couldn't let it keep up like this, not when human error was such a risk. She couldn't stand the mere thought of ending up the weak link.
As she sat curled up, trying not to lose her mind, it started to rain. Light, at first, small raindrops hitting her shoulders and barely disturbing her, but it was steadily getting worse. It was the final straw. Tears rolled down her face, mixing with the rain and leaving muddy black streaks of makeup in their path.
She choked on a sob, trying in vain to calm herself down. Her chest hurt as she cried, gasping and heaving for any breath in the onslaught. She felt like a kid, sobbing too hard to breathe as rain pounded against her back.
It had escalated to a downpour, but she just couldn't find it in herself to get up, let alone go back inside. She was already drenched, what harm could it do to just stay? Grace would be outside soon enough anyway, it'd be fine. And if not, who was she to care anymore?
Thunder roared above her and she sobbed. She cried and cried and screamed and sobbed as the rain drowned out every wail. She let her emotions spill out for the first time since the project started, years of bottled anguish coming back with a vengeance.
"Stratt!" Grace snapped her out of spiralling as he ran outside, calling for her with that obvious concern. "Come back inside, its pouring out here—!"
Eva looked over her shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. She blanched as she realized what a mess she must look like, completely soaked, makeup ruined, hair plastered to her face and eyes red from crying. She felt herself shaking as the tension in her chest fizzled out, and her energy dropped.
"Are you okay..?" He called, looking between her and the door, trying to gauge the best way to handle the situation at hand.
"Yeah— I'm… fine." Even she wasn't convinced by her pathetic attempt at lying. "No worse for the rain, I mean."
"You should probably come inside—" Grace tried again. "You'll get sick out here."
"Right…" Eva nodded, slowly pulling herself up to stand. Her dress was made at least five pounds heavier by the rain, not helped by her dominant hand being— totally fine, not injured at all, it'd be fine— unfavourable at the moment.
Grace pulled her inside when she reached him, unabashed worry in his eyes. "Why didn't you come in when it started raining?"
"I was… distracted." She replied lamely. She knew it sounded like a terrible excuse and it was.
"You're completely drenched." He muttered, brushing a tangled strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. "Should we wait for our event organized ride back to the hotel or do you want me to call a cab?"
"Cab." Eva leaned into his hand. She was suddenly aware of how cold she was, and how warm he was by comparison.
"Good idea." Grace nodded. He pulled out his phone to call said cab, letting Eva hide from prying eyes using him as a shield.
What a shit evening this ended up being.