Chapter Text
“How are you today, Louis?”
There were a lot of threes in this office. Three framed diplomas on the wall to his right. Directly under them was a shelf with three thick volumes. Louis’ eyes narrowed very subtly so he could read the small script off the spines. He already had an idea for what might be on there. His money was on ‘navigating’ and ‘loss.’ Hell, even ‘grief’.
But there was no escaping the watchful eyes of Dr. – Louis’ gaze landed on her nameplate again for the third time today – Reeves.
“Louis?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you know why you’re here today?”
She had three rings on her right hand, which she used to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ears.
He chuckled. Plenty of time for her to get on with it, but she didn’t. He shrugged, deciding to match her pace.
“I got a little light-headed at work. Caused some concern.”
“Louis, you collapsed in the middle of the floor.” She quickly consulted her notepad. “I believe low blood sugar was the reason.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Have you been eating well? Your coworker reported you’ve been working through your lunch hour. Perhaps that’s why.”
He said nothing again, watching her face for any sign of disappointment. Why would a complete stranger be disappointed in him? Why did he want her to be? Why was it so important for any stranger to feel something towards him other than pity?
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I… have to be?”
A sigh. Finally. “HR wants to know if you would be feeling well enough to carry on with your tasks. It’s up to me to let them know if you are. But Louis,” she placed her notepad back on her desk and leaned forward. “I don’t want you to think about work anymore. I would like to see you again. Regularly. It’s okay to struggle.”
His tongue clicked.
“I think you will benefit from psychiatric help. Especially since—”
“So let me get this straight,” he said. “I can’t go back to work unless you say so?”
“It’s for your own good.”
“I don’t even need this job, I have a business,” he interrupted with a laugh.
She looked down at her notepad again. “That’s the one you owned with Lestat?”
“No. No, he never owned it.”
“But you closed it after he…”
“Okay.” He decided to get up, grabbing his sunglasses and keys. Searched for the disappointment on her face again. There was none, but she seemed unfazed.
He hated her.
“Louis, I can’t give them the all-clear if you won’t talk to me.”
“Then don’t,” he said, waving her off as he reached for the door handle. “Like I said, I don’t need that job.”
Getting a job in real estate was hardly a surprise to anyone considering it had been where his father made his income. What Louis hadn’t been prepared for was how much he liked doing it. Pairing up his clients with the right property, using his natural charm to highlight all the good things about it, getting to see their faces as they realized their dreams were about to come true.
It was especially rewarding when he sold to families.
But as he left Dr. Reeves’ office, he knew that was it for him. And while he had to remind himself that in the grand scheme of things, the job didn’t matter, losing it was the first step in a long downward spiral for him.
2012
The start of the video was shaky. Louis wasn’t looking at the viewfinder yet, too busy following Lestat from the kitchen. The sound of his giggly laughter broke the silence as they moved through the hallways of their home – their first apartment. Lestat’s words were quiet, mumbled, but it was obvious they were the cause of Louis’ laughter. They didn’t make sense until Louis tapped his shoulder.
“Camera’s on.”
Lestat glanced back and eyed the camera. “It is?”
“Yep.”
“Wonderful. We can let her know what you did.”
Louis groaned, sighing loudly for effect. The darkness of the hallway gave away to more light as they finally reached the dining room. Louis shifted the camera, holding it higher to show the cake in Lestat’s hands. It was meant to be the highlight of the video after all, not the bashing Lestat was determined to start.
“You wanna spend the first day of your twenty-fourth year being petty?” Louis challenged, zooming out to film Lestat placing his birthday cake on the table. It had enough icing sugar to give several grown men a profound sugar rush.
Lestat looked up at him once the cake was on the table, his blue eyes clocking Louis easily. “Would you like her to be the judge of that? If you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, you’ll say it, won’t you? Give this to me.”
He took the camera, turning it around to film. Unfortunately, it barely managed to catch Louis’ chin, angled downward.
“Go on.”
Louis sighed. “Fine. I may or may not have–”
“Mm, definitely have.”
Louis chuckled, unable to keep a straight face. “Your father and I promised that we would do your first shopping haul together.”
“But…?” Lestat prompted.
“But I broke that promise… and got you a very, very cute dress. It was on sale,” he added quickly, earning a scoff.
He reached for Lestat’s hand and tilted his wrist up. His face finally swam into view, youthful, happy. “And I think you’re gonna love it. He’s just being difficult.”
A few French words of protest fell from Lestat’s lips, until eventually Louis took back the camera and after some mild shaking, the camera was placed on the table away from them both. It got the cake and the two of them in one frame, something which Louis prided himself on later.
He had ended up in Lestat’s lap with one of his arms wrapped around his neck. Lestat was still going on about the dress.
“I wanted to let the record show how traitorous your father could be, ma petite,” he said pettily, smiling at the camera.
Having had enough, Louis turned to the camera. “Okay! Okay, and I would also like to let it be known that he just spent two thousand dollars on luxury brands as payback, so I guess we’re even.” He shook his head in disbelief, turning to Lestat again. “I can’t believe you’re gonna put our baby in Dior, Lestat.”
“Well, it’s what she deserves,”
“Right. Well,” Louis turned to the camera again. “When you’re watching this in ten years and we’re officially bankrupt, you’ll know why.”
Their baby was just an idea at this point, but a very real idea. They were talking with their second surrogate. One inspired night, Louis suggested filming these videos for her. Or him. But… mostly her. He just knew.
He turned to him again. “Are you gonna blow your candles anytime today?”
Lestat preened and raised his shoulders, looking pretty happy with himself as he joined Louis in singing ‘happy birthday’. They were at the start of their life here, maddeningly in love.
Once they were done, Lestat closed his eyes and made a wish before blowing his candles.
“What did you wish for?” Louis asked, knowing Lestat would never tell him, but it never hurt to ask.
“I wished…” Lestat began, before his smile turned into a smirk. “I could have this entire cake to myself.”
That made Louis laugh, his thumb tracing lines over Lestat’s cheek. Even in the bad lighting and the below-average quality of the video camera, his eyes were so loving.
“Done,” Louis said and they both smiled, as if Lestat didn’t finish his cake by himself each year, and the years that came after. As if he didn’t have the most demanding sweet-tooth on the planet annd somehow found the disgusting sugar fondant satisfactory, meanwhile Louis thinking a spoonful of sugar was ‘too sweet.’ It was why they always immediately ordered a pizza that Louis finished most of.
2025
The house was too quiet when Louis pushed open the door, the jangle of keys the only sound around. Louis turned to look inside, and his confusion only grew.
“Claudia?” Louis called, the lights coming on as soon as the motion sensors picked him up. He was never a fan of the elaborate smart system they had installed, but Lestat had insisted on trying it out.
No one answered.
Thinking perhaps she had her earbuds on, Louis placed the keys by the holder and walked deeper into the house. He went straight to Claudia’s room, because the house looked untouched, and that wasn’t normal. He couldn’t see a school jacket on the couch or anything that might indicate Claudia was even home.
Because she wasn’t. Louis stared at her empty bedroom, noting the absence of a bag again. She never even came home.
His thoughts sharpened into a point, the day falling away as he zeroed in on her. Pulling her number, Louis immediately called her. As the phone rang, he wondered where she might be at seven in the evening. She would’ve told him if she had to be somewhere like a friend’s or—
The call ended, no one picked up.
Gripping the phone too tightly now, Louis called Grace. She picked up, her voice backgrounded by a cacophony of noises as was the norm at the Frenier household with three children under the age of ten.
Louis’ voice cut through the noise. “Hey. Do you know where Claudia is? I don’t think she came home, and she’s not picking up.”
His sister sounded confused for a moment. “Did she not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“That girl. I’m sorry, Louis. I really am. She said she already told you she’d be coming over after school. Where are you?”
Louis let his eyes close, taking a deep breath once he knew Claudia was safe. But he was still confused. Why would Claudia lie like that?
“I was just about to call you,” Grace spoke up again. “We’re just waiting on you now.”
“What? Why?”
“For… the party,” Grace said, her voice dropping on the second word, and it took only a moment for both of them to realize what was wrong. He could hear his sister walk away from the noise, then the sound of a click as she probably moved to another room and shut the door. “Her birthday...?”
The air left Louis’ lungs at the confirmation of the terrible dread in his stomach, the feeling of knowing something was wrong yet being unable to put his finger on it. The reason why Claudia had gone to her aunt instead of stayed home to celebrate her twelfth. More than ever, he wished he could rewind the whole week so he didn’t make the colossal mistake of forgetting his daughter’s birthday.
“I…” He started, but then shut up once he felt the urge to make excuses.
Luckily, Grace was a better human than was. “Hey, don’t worry about that now. I’m gonna tell them you got held back at work. Just get here as soon as you can.”
He told his sister she was an angel, because she was, before snatching his keys off the keyholder again and racing outside.
He got there late. Young Benny had to be put to bed so they ended up blowing the candles extra early. Louis would’ve gotten there earlier had he not stopped to pick up Claudia’s birthday present. Grace met him in the doorway, looking really apologetic, but he reassured her it was hardly her fault.
The twins were up, but only because it was a special day and Claudia was there. Louis was glad. There were very few things Claudia loved more than her cousins. Being only two years apart and in each other’s lives since the moment they were born, they really were inseparable.
Grace had told him that Claudia was in a good mood, but Louis knew better. His heart was in his throat as they made their way to the living room. Claudia looked up and smiled, and he really had to give it to her. She almost fooled him. But Louis knew his own daughter.
Their daughter. Raised by him and Lestat, Claudia could really put on a well-practiced smile, the tell-tale sign of a performer.
Louis hugged her. “I am… I’m so sorry,” he said into her hair. It felt strange to lie to her, but it felt stranger to think that he had really forgotten her birthday. Like that had really happened. “I couldn’t leave on time.”
The twins scrambled over curiously towards the large gift bag in his hands, and Claudia finally moved to the couch to open her present, her cousins following.
The thing was, Louis already had this in his cart for months, and every time he thought of ordering, he hadn’t gone through with it. In the end, he’d had to go to the art store to pick it up physically.
Claudia was becoming interested in art, so Louis decided to get her a full set of professional grade acrylic paints, along with sketchbooks, canvases, and all the supplies she might need. He had splurged a bit to ensure they were the best quality, even though she was still a beginner, but it was a habit at this point, to get her nothing but quality items.
She certainly looked impressed, taken aback by the quality of the supplies and how many there were. Relief flooded Louis when she saw the smile on her face turn genuine. Even if she was mad – and she had every right to be – she knew how much he loved her.
She got up from the couch and hugged him again and when she pulled away, Louis thought she could see him. Really see how sorry he was that he couldn’t be a better father, and how he was trying, and how she was the best daughter anyone could ever ask for.
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, and stepped back. “Um. Can I stay with Auntie Grace tonight? She can drive me back tomorrow.”
It wasn’t an odd request, and not the first time Claudia slept at Grace’s house. It still felt strange though. On her birthday no less. Before, the three of them would go out to eat before going back home to watch as many movies as Claudia wanted to . Louis tried to think of why she wanted to avoid home today, but Claudia was staring at him expectantly, in the clothes she had left for school that morning. What could he say?
“Of course, baby.”
Once the children went back to play in the twins’ room, he and Grace ended up in her kitchen. She put the pot on the stove, then made him sit at the island before putting a plate of lasagna in front of him. As always, it smelled like it was cooked by the lord himself.
It was a ploy of course. She had questions and concerns and knew she wasn’t going to get much out of him on an empty stomach.
Louis had a few bites to sate the familiar pang of hunger before pushing the plate away.
“Louis,” she started.
“I don’t know how I forgot, Grace.”
“Don’t go on beating yourself now. You made a mistake, Lou. And she’s an angel. She won’t hold it against you.”
Claudia was an angel. He loved her so much.
“A mistake’s maybe forgetting to bring her back a snack. This is a whole other thing. Bad Father of the Year award, has to go to Louis de Pointe—”
Grace wouldn’t hear it. She smacked his arm. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself. You’re a great father to that wonderful girl. She loves you.”
His throat burned.
“She does.”
Louis just nodded. Grace wouldn’t understand. Immediately, he felt shame for that thought too, so he decided to change subjects.
“I have news.”
“Good or bad?”
He tried to think, but decided to let her be the judge of that. “I lost my job.”
Her face fell. Okay then, bad. Very bad.
“It’s not as bad as you think. I never liked that job anyway.” It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.
“What are you gonna do?” Grace asked.
“I don’t know. Open the bookstore back up, maybe.”
“You don’t have any employees.”
“I’ll be my employee. It’s not hard, I’ve done it before.”
Grace shook her head.
“Finish your plate, Louis,” she said as she got up when the pot started whistling. “And hire people.”
2015
There was a plastic pin between Louis’ teeth as he said, “We may have a problem.”
He felt Lestat’s arms around his waist a second later. Like a curious cat, Lestat dipped his head on Louis’ shoulder to see what he was holding. In Louis’ hands, the photo album was large and heavy.
Louis automatically leaned back, distracted by how soft Lestat’s hair was against his cheek. The smell of his strawberry-scented shampoo, the one Lestat fell in love with after trying it once and bought everything the brand had to offer next, was prominent.
“What is it, mon cher?”
“We’re running out of space.”
Evidently, there was no more space on the wall for more of his polaroids. The board Louis had put up only a month ago to display their photos on it was saturated with too many of their precious moments. Admittedly, there were more photos of Claudia being cute than the two of them combined. Yet Louis refused to admit that he took too many photos.
“Well, then. We make space.”
“Got no more wall space as you can see,” Louis gestured at the pictures.
“Mm,” Lestat nodded at the lone shelf on the wall to their right where some of Louis’ books rested. “Let’s move this one somewhere else. I’ll grab the… nail thing. What is it?”
“The drill?”
“Yeah.”
Lestat left his side (unfortunately) and disappeared in their utility closet for a good fifteen minutes (weird) before Louis heard a few things crash and closed his eyes in a silent prayer to a god he hadn’t believed in since he was fourteen.
“I’m fine!” Lestat announced, before promptly reappearing with the nail drill and a box of nails.
It was the most impulsive thing Louis had seen him do yet, and definitely the most ambitious. Together, they ended up taking down the shelf and installing it in a different room altogether. The best part was that neither of them sustained any injuries, which was always a win in Louis’ book.
It did take up a chunk of the day though, since they had to stop multiple times to take care of Claudia.
They finished at nine that evening, spending almost eight hours on the impromptu home project, just because Louis wanted more wall space.
Which he now had too much of. But that was never a problem. Halfway, Lestat had also tied up his hair into a loose bun because it was getting in his face, and Louis made sure to untie it as soon as they finished so he could run his fingers into those golden strands. He gave them a playful tug and listened to the predictable hitch of breath that followed it, grinned, and added it to the ever growing list of why he was so in love with the man.
2025
Once, Dia’s was the warmest place on earth. Located in the heart of the city, it was, for the first few years of its life, a labor of Louis’ love. A gift to his baby daughter. And the perfect answer to Lestat’s latest endeavors to writing.
It was the perfect outlet to his boredom too. Louis loved to sit behind the cash register and make up stories for each one of his customers. He imagined they made up stories for him too, imagining him as a guy behind the register, probably low on rent. They would never guess he owned the place.
He had bought this bookstore for Claudia. She’d grown up around books, “helping” him push boxes when new shipments came. She learned to count to a hundred faster than kids in her class because she used to help him with inventory.
But it had been a while since he worked there. Actually worked, convinced people to buy one more edition they didn’t need, gave an opinion on a book he hadn’t read yet.
It was colder around this time of year. Strange, when Louis had always associated Dia’s with warmth. He couldn’t help but think the actual weather had nothing to do with the numbness he felt at the tips of his fingers.
But he was doing well. For his first day. He didn’t need staff. Grace was right though, he did need to hire people if he was going to reopen permanently. There weren’t many customers today, but that wasn’t going to last for long.
Still, Louis preferred it this way. Fewer people, a gradual transition between his old job and his – older one.
He was actually about to send Grace a text to let her know how well his first day was going when he heard a loud thud from the front of the store, followed by sharp reprimanding. When he looked up, he saw a mother and a child, the latter having obviously knocked over one of their book stands.
The mother was in distress, too many shopping bags in her hand and a baby strapped to her chest. Her son couldn’t be older than two years old.
Louis made his way to the front, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Hey, hey. Look, it’s okay. Nothing happened.”
“I’m so sorry,” the mother began. “We were just checking them out.”
Louis reached for her arm to reassure her with a smile. “It’s okay, I promise.” He turned to the books on the floor so he could pick them up when his smile dropped.
It was a cruel joke. It didn’t have to be this stand. Of all the shelves that could have gotten knocked over, of all the stands Louis would have personally paid the little boy to knock over… Of course he had to go and do it to this one. Louis felt his vision tunnel as he stared at the scattered books on the floor. Lestat de Lioncourt, the name staring back at him.
The other reason he’d opened the bookstore. Lestat’s then-newlyfound fascination with children’s storybooks. How he’d surprised Louis one night in their kitchen with a draft of his first story. He hadn’t wanted to call it a draft, just ramblings with no clear direction yet. But the pages had been good. Lestat’s writing had been so witty and funny, and the bastard overachiever that he was, he had drawn on the margins too. His visions of the cartoons that would accompany it.
He had told Louis then they were his first gift to Claudia, who hadn’t even been born yet. Louis had fallen in love all over again.
The books were still on the floor as the mother softly expressed her disappointment and told her son to help Louis pick them up.
“No,” Louis said sharply, turning away from her. He fell to his knees and started picking them up, purposefully avoiding the ones that had fallen open on the last page. The ones that featured Lestat’s author photo. There were several editions, some in English, some in French, both of them Louis had memorized. It was so easy to tell Lestat’s unique style apart, because he had so much input when it came to publishing. Louis remembered reading emails of forced politeness from publishing houses, acquiescing to all of Lestat’s edits. His choice of fonts, the color palette of the drawing, down to how many damn pages were to be left blank before the story began.
Before he had closed the store, before he… Lestat had come out with a new book in the series.
The one he was currently holding.
“Honey, are you okay?” He heard the voice from far away above him, then a hand, gentle on his shoulder.
Confused, Louis blinked and froze when he saw a spot on the page grow darker with his tears. His vision was blurry, his throat painfully tight. He should’ve never reopened by himself. He should’ve made sure this stand wasn’t so close to the door. Maybe then this wouldn’t have happened.
“Excuse me,” he murmured, getting to his feet and awkwardly dumping the books on the table nearby before shouldering past the woman.
“A-are you okay? Do you need anything?” She asked again.
But Louis wasn’t listening. He walked out of the bookstore and didn't stop. He wanted to feel blood in his fingertips again, air on his skin, anything to make him remember that he was breathing. And then he wanted to wretch, because Lestat wasn’t.
He dug into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He had been trying to quit for months before it happened, and he’d been trying to quit after. Louis shook one out with trembling hands, realizing there was only the one left.
He lit it up and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes against this shitty day. When he opened them, a billboard caught his attention. He’d seen it before of course. It was a new ad, marketing an even newer concept. He had dismissed it of course, but somehow, just this once, he felt the words speak to him.
The Garden Industries is the world's leading biotechnology company, making the work experience better than ever.
What is it?
Imagine being able to come into work completely uninhibited by your home problems. Using a minimally invasive surgical technique, we are able to 'sever' your brain so that essentially, you've got a part of you that works and a part of you that plays.
It was followed by a few photos of people in the workplace. Stock images, most likely. Then a number and an email for more information. Louis watched for a few moments, and when the number came back around, he got out his phone and took a picture of it.
When he got back that night, Louis noted how dark the house was. A quick glance in the fridge told him Claudia hadn’t had dinner yet. He felt guilty immediately when he remembered the time.
He hadn’t meant to be late again tonight. Something no one bothered to tell him was how often he’d be losing time. It was especially inconvenient when he had a daughter.
Making his way towards her room, Louis stopped just outside when he heard another voice. It didn’t take him long to realize it was Lestat, a significant drop in the quality of his voice different from his actual rich tone.
The door to Claudia’s room wasn’t closed, but it was clear she didn’t realize Louis was standing there. He didn’t want to keep standing there without making noise, but he was curious. A careful glance inside let him see Claudia sitting cross legged on her bed with her iPad in her lap.
Watching one of their home videos.
A few seconds of listening and Louis immediately knew which one it was, seeing as he’d shot it.
Claudia had been six years old when she came to them with her request for a birthday night movie. They’d asked her which movie she wanted to start the night with and she’d made a beeline for their Blu-Ray shelf and grabbed 1922’s Nosferatu. Louis had been briefly horrified and debated on setting a precedent by refusing, but then again, Claudia had been notorious for falling asleep in the first half of any movie.
It was particularly ironic when not only was that the first time she didn’t fall asleep, but stayed up afterwards to ask about vampires.
Louis had grabbed his camera without thinking about it, just in time to record Claudia practicing her growls with Lestat coaching her on how to be menacing. They hissed and snarled like cats, trying to outdo the other before Claudia got up on the couch to look appear bigger. Ultimately, she’d lost when Lestat played dirty and started tickling her.
Louis made a sound before appearing in the doorway, just in time to see her lock her iPad and set it aside face down. He made his way inside and pretended that didn’t sting.
“Hey, I’m sorry I just got back. I lost track of time,” Louis said, wondering if he should sit down on her bed or on her desk chair. He hated that his brain even considered that. They were never awkward.
He just couldn’t remember the last time he had a conversation with her that wasn’t about everyday chores.
Claudia straightened, staring at him. “That’s okay. Everything all right at work?”
Louis nodded instinctively, before stopping himself. He didn’t want to lie to her.
“Actually, no. I... well, I’m not going anymore. I got fired.” It was absurd how calm he felt. But he wasn’t just calm. He was so numb he didn’t realize how upsetting the news would sound to others.
Claudia’s eyes are wide. She inched close. “But how come? You were really good, right?”
He nodded again. He wanted to tell her everything, but his tongue felt heavy. Why should he let her know he passed out in the middle of his shift? He’d rather die before letting her have that image of him.
So he reached for her wrist instead, soothingly traced lines over her skin. “Don’t worry about it. It’s better that way. You know where I was all day today? I went and reopened the store.”
“Oh.”
The bookstore was a sore spot for them both. He should’ve never brought it up.
He pushed through.
“It was all right,” he answered her unasked question. “Not much foot traffic. I think people don’t realize it’s open again, which we’re gonna have to work on–”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Louis stilled, her wrist still in his hand. There was no way she couldn’t feel how hard his heart was hammering, his pulse doing cartwheels under his skin.
Sensing the shift, Claudia blinked and stammered. “I mean, with all the memories there. You don’t think it’s a lot?”
His daughter was so smart, and so much more emotionally regulated than her parents ever were, and he would die for her.
He shoved down the uncontrollable urge to hug her, and instead mutely shook his head while he tried to get his heartbeat under control.
Apparently he didn’t do it fast enough, because before he realized it, Claudia had come closer, her large eyes pouring into his.
“What happened at work, dad?”
And Louis couldn’t take it anymore. He closed his eyes and sighed.
“I think maybe,” he croaked, not looking at her anymore. “Something is wrong with me.”
He didn’t feel his other hand subconsciously settle against his chest until she reached over and closed her own against it.
“You can’t say that. You just miss him. I miss him too, so if you say that then that would mean something is wrong with me too.”
He finally opened his eyes and turned to her to see hers shiny and wet. They had both cried their weight in buckets, but there always seemed to be more.
“Baby,” Louis squeezed her shoulders and watched as she, very resiliently, kept her tears from falling. “Nothing is wrong with you. I promise. I just…”
How could he explain to her that he didn’t expect to be the same with a whole piece of him missing? How he was constantly running out of air whenever he remembered?
“It’s not fair to you. I should be around more, I should be present when I’m around. I haven’t been that, I’m sorry.”
He’d debated all day how to bring it up, if he was going to bring it up, he found himself blurting it out.
“There’s another job. And if I get accepted, things might… they might get better for us.”
For me.
Expectedly, Claudia looked tentative, like she knew it couldn’t be that easy, because it wasn’t. But she also looked hopeful.
“Really? What is it?”
“There’s a company called The Garden Industries.” Claudia’s face fell, but he forced himself to go on. “I saw the ad today, and there’s this technology they use.”
“Severance.”
It was Louis’ turn to be surprised. “You’ve heard about it?”
“My friend Jake’s mom works there. My class talks about it. Our teacher made us write an essay about it. Please don’t say you’re thinking about applying there.”
“Claudia, listen to me—”
“No, you listen!” She pulled away, leaving Louis cold. She looked horrified. “They’re gonna get into your brain and make you forget all about me.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Then how does it work?”
Louis had read about it. He’d read everything he could get his hands on the company’s website, on current and ex employees, he’d even got on Reddit and sat through multiple conspiracies too. He’d wanted to be prepared for this conversation.
He didn’t know if he was.
“They separate your consciousness into someone who goes to work, unburdened by whatever they’ve got going on in their personal life.” Unburdened. He heard himself, but it was too late. “If I don’t have to deal with this… this weight at work, then maybe I can focus on spending time with you. I can be here for you.”
“Not while you’re in there,” she bit back.
“It’s only eight hours a day, Claudia.”
“Eight hours a day where you’ll forget about me.”
“Eight hours a day where I’ll forget about all of it.”
He didn’t mean it.
He really, really didn’t, but judging by her face, it didn’t matter.
“You won’t know him for eight hours a day. But what about me? What if I need you?” She was scolding him, using her grief and channeling it into anger rather than devastation.
“Grace will be here for you to call if you need anything.”
“What about me and you, you and me?”
“Go on then,” he snapped. “Finish it.”
The rhyme he and Lestat came up with one morning standing in the kitchen together, Claudia in her high chair. Me and you, you and me. Us three.
Except they were missing their third, weren’t they? Louis hadn’t expected to be left alone and yet here he was.
She was as far away from him as she could be, sinking against her pillows. Louis could hear the hurt in her voice take over, the heartbreak winning as she said, “I already lost him. Now I’m going to lose you too. Don’t you get it? I’ll have no one. But it’s fine, only eight hours a day.”
“Claudia…”
“Can you leave? Please.”
She wouldn’t look at him, and he could see her fighting tooth and nail not to cry. He wanted to cry too. And scream. And maybe decapitate something. His chest hurt at her rejection, but he knew she wanted to be left alone. So with one final look at his daughter, Louis got up and walked out of her room.
He thought he could hear Lestat’s voice coming from the video again, but he left too quickly to know for certain.