Love, Lust, and Jealousy.
It's a story Cora knows all too well - not because it's her own, but that of her character in Illicit Affairs, the murderous romance that's about to take Broadway by storm. It's her crowning achievement, her pride and joy...
Rasmus tensed; someone obviously wasn't hungover unless they'd been drunk the night before. "Did he do anyth–"
"No, Raz," Ava stopped him. "You know I would have told you."
"I know, I just–"
"I know," she echoed. "You just worry about me. But I'm fine, seriously. I just need to know how to make some freaking breakfast."
He plopped back against his pillows. "Okay, I'll teach you. Here's what you do..."
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Cora was up bright and early on Monday morning, humming softly to herself as she made a bagel and coffee. She wasn't usually this chipper and energized, but she was looking forward to a change of scenery and to seeing her parents before her first day of shows even though it meant driving two-and-a-half hours each way. She'd shoved everything she needed into a tote bag before she wearily tumbled into bed the night prior, so once she filled up her water bottle for the journey she was ready to go.
The elevator came to a stop a few floors down from hers, and to her great dismay, the person who stepped on was Rasmus. He was looking at his phone, but he glanced up from it long enough to see who he was with and give her a, "'Morning, sunshine."
But he couldn't have said it any more dully, and as he did, she couldn't help but notice that he looked a little bit stressed. Or maybe he was just tired; it wouldn't exactly have been far-fetched. Even so, she was curious enough that she acted against her better judgment and snuck a glance at his phone.
Cora frowned slightly. "Amtrak? Are you going somewhere?"
That was a stupid question—what did trains do besides take you places? She tried again. "Are you going home?"
He was glaring at her. "Is it any of your business?"
"Well, I..." she started, then faltered. Am I really about to do this? It might be miserable. But if he accepted, it would be a good exercise in learning how to put up with him. And she had to learn how to put up with him if she wanted to look back on this time in her life with any fond memories whatsoever, so she held up her keys. "I'm going to Rothbury today, so..."
His eyebrows furrowed. "You have a car?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
Rasmus was looking at her like she'd grown a second head. He spoke to her slowly, as if talking to a child. "We live in Manhattan. Where there's public transportation and gas costs five dollars."
Irked that he was acting like she wouldn't know any of that already, she crossed her arms. "No, I didn't sell my car when I moved here—call me stupid all you want. I don't care. But are you trying to get a free ride or not?"
He was warily eyeing the keys in her hands as the elevator door pinged open, but she needed her answer now.
