*

Audra rests her forearms against the wooden top of an outdoor bar. She massages her temples, running her fingers through her hair and squeezing her eyes shut. The bartender turns, polishing a glass, and chuckles, "Rough day?"

Audra nods in agreement, scoffing as she shakes her head, "That's an understatement."

The bartender flashes her a flirtatious grin, but Audra isn't paying attention. She peers over her shoulder, looking toward Isobel and Elliot, then back again.

"What can I get ya?" The bartender asks.

Audra sighs, "I don't know. Whatever's strongest. A shotgun, maybe? Put me out of my misery?"

The bartender laughs, and a young woman saddles up beside Audra at the bar. She lifts two fingers and orders, "Two dirty martinis, please."

The bartender nods, "Comin' right up."

He turns his back to them as the woman faces Audra with a smile, "It's not as good as a shotgun," She says, "but I've always found that gin helps numb the pain better than most anything else."

"Thanks," Audra chuckles, startled by the woman's sudden generosity. Her skin is dark, and her black hair is styled in braids. She's breathtaking.

The woman, JORDAN PLATT, age twenty-two, studies Audra's expression as she gazes across the empty bar. "You're new, aren't you? I don't think I've seen you around here before."

Audra shakes her head, "No, I'm um– I'm staying with the Talbotts."

Jordan's mahogany eyes widen, "Shit." She scoffs, "You're Jimmy's girlfriend, aren't you? It's nice to meet you."

Again, Audra laughs. The sound is arduous, like Jordan kicked her in the shin.

"No, no," Audra turns. She points towards Isobel, "That's Jimmy's girlfriend."

Jordan leans back to see over Audra's shoulder. She watches as Isobel ferociously paws at James, who has just returned from his golf game. The scene is performative. Staged. Isobel wants everyone there to know who James belongs to. Her.

Jordan rolls her eyes, shaking her head, "No wonder you wanted to blow your brains out."

The bartender sets their drinks on the counter and smirks, "Ladies."

Jordan nods, "Thanks."

She pushes one of the two glasses toward Audra, lifting the other, "To not killing ourselves."

Audra snorts, mimicking the motion. She raises her glass, "To not killing ourselves."

They drink. Then, resting their elbows on the bar and facing the pool deck, both women quietly watch as Isobel clings to James, kissing him and crying like a lost puppy. Eventually, Audra shakes her head, "She's really something, isn't she?"

"Looks like it," Jordan agrees, "You want my advice?"

Audra arches an eyebrow, "You don't even know me."

Jordan shrugs, "Yeah, but I know her. I've met about a thousand– What's her name?"

"Isobel."

Jordan takes a sip, smirking, "Ha! Of course it is. Well, I've met about a thousand Isobels in my life, and they should all be handled the exact same way."

"Really?" Audra asks, lowering her glass, "And how's that?"

Jordan takes a drink, "Let them."

Audra turns, confusion contorting her expression, "Excuse me?"

Jordan continues, taking another swig of her martini and sighing, "Let. Them. Whatever happens, let it. Let Isobel be Isobel. Let her."

Audra rattles, "I don't–"

However, before she can finish her sentence, someone calls for Jordan from across the pool deck. An older boy, her brother, NICOLAS PLATT, age twenty-eight. He beckons, "Jordan, come on. Hit the bricks! We're gonna be late!"

She waves, downing the rest of her drink and setting the empty glass on the bar behind her. "I gotta go." Jordan says, "But enjoy the drink. It's on me."

Audra blinks, her brows knit, "Thanks, but wait, I still don't–" Jordan pushes off the counter, bounding towards her brother and leaving Audra stranded with a question on the tip of her tongue.

She turns back, smiling, and waves, "See you around!"

Audra's shoulders sink. She exhales, emptying her glass as well.

Abandoned olives are all that remains as she, too, reluctantly leaves.