v. i don't know if i'm a good person.
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Max stirs in bed, waking up to the faint sunlight filtering through the hotel curtains, his head pounding from the night before. The room smells faintly of perfume — citrusy and floral, nothing like Augustine's cherries and saffron scent. He glanced to his side — Lenore Slade lays tangled in the sheets, her dark hair spilled out on the pillow with her back to him. Her bare shoulders rose and fell with her steady and even breaths, and for a moment, he studies her.

Of course, there's no immediate regret, no pang of guilt threatening to claw free from the depths of his being, but rather a detached clarity — inevitable, truly. He almost winced when she stirs and slowly but surely wakes up, rhe sleep almost nonexistent in her gaze, "Morning..." she mumbles.

Max swallows the lump in his throat, rubbing the back of his neck before the events of the previous night come into focus. How he'd been the one to call Lenore, the drinks, the banter and the mistake of landing himself in her bed. He swung his legs from the bed and reaches for the shirt off the floor, carefully tugging it on.

Lenore laughs warmly, the sound soft and smooth, "what? No breakfast in bed? No awkward morning after small talk...? And Augustine said you were a gentleman."

He winced inwardly and glances at her, an unreadable expression on his face, "I should go."

She tilts her head to the side, at this angle he can see a slight resemblance to Augustine in Lenore, she studies him, "right... well... wouldn't want to stick around too long, would you...? Especially since this" she gestures between them lazily, her eyes glimmering with something Max can describe as amusement, "...was probably a bad idea."

Max tenses, his jaw clenching slightly, "you don't need to remind me. No need to add salt to the wound."

"Don't I?" she asks, a smirk forming on her lips. "I mean let's not pretend you didn't know what this would mean." she says in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Augustine's name might as well have been written all over your face last night." she teases.

Her words strike a nerve, he turns to look at her as if she had slapped him, "This has nothing to do with Augustine!"

Lenore's laugh cuts through the air, it breaks the tense silence between them, "You're a terrible liar Max." Lenore says as she leans forward, her voice dropping to a near whisper with mock sympathy, "you think she won't find out? That this won't hurt her...?"

The weight of Lenore's words settled between them, each word a subtle jab towards Max; Lenore was right, it would hurt Augustine. He'd slept with the one person she'd been compared to her entire life, "She's your sister," Max says quietly, "you won't tell her."

"Half-sister." Lenore corrects almost immediately, leaning back against the headboard, exuding an air of disinterest and detachment, "You and I both know Augustine and I have never been close; if anything you're the one who crossed the line."

Max stares at Lenore, "you don't care." he says finally.

"About Augustine...?" Lenore shrugs dismissively, a spark of malice flickering in the same icy eyes Max had often spent hours gazing into, "not really, but you do. That's what makes this amusing and worth it."

Max couldn't bring himself to respond, he can't. The weight of her words crushes him; he pulls his shirt on with stiff movements as Lenore watches him with satisfaction, "Augustine was right to rave and care about you." she hums, "it's a shame all of her love for you will be a waste." a brief pause, "You'll go back to her." Lenore's voice is light but her words cut deep, "You can try and pretend this didn't happen, but it did, and it'll haunt you, because you and I both know she deserves better."

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

Augustine stood in her small kitchen, a steaming cup of tea in her hands as she stared out the window. The soft hum of the city outside usually soothed her, but not today. Something felt off—like a storm brewing just out of sight. When her phone buzzed on the counter, she didn't expect the message to be from Lenore.

Lenore Slade.
thinking we should catch
up. cafe de paris...?

And though Augustine wants to say no, she doesn't.

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

By the time Augustine makes it to Cafe de Paris, Lenore was already seated when Augustine arrived, her dark hair perfectly styled, a designer bag perched on the table as if it were an accessory to her smug expression. "Glad you could make it," Lenore said smoothly, gesturing for Augustine to sit.

"What's this about?" Augustine asked, her tone cautious as she slid into the chair across from her.

Lenore took a slow sip of her latte, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, just a little catch-up. It's been ages, hasn't it? Besides, I thought it was time you heard something from me... before you heard it from someone else."

Augustine frowns, dread settling in her stomach. "What the hell are you going on about...?"

Lenore tilted her head, as if savoring the moment. "Max," she said lightly, as though the name didn't carry the weight of a thousand unspoken things. "We spent some time together the other night. A lot of time, actually." She paused, savoring the moment. "It was... enlightening. And fun. Very fun."

Augustine's expression didn't waver. She reached for her tea, lifting the mug to her lips with steady hands. "Enlightening? That's one way to put it. I'm sure it was fascinating hearing him say my name when he wasn't even with me."

Lenore's smirk faltered for a split second, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, come on, Augustine. Don't be naive. Max isn't the kind of man to settle for... well, simple." Her eyes darted over Augustine's blonde hair and understated outfit with a pointed glance.

"Simple?" Augustine echoed, setting her mug down with a soft clink. She tilted her head, her blue eyes gleaming with quiet defiance. "Funny. I always thought you'd prefer simple. After all, you're always so desperate for things other people have already figured out how to make work."

Lenore stiffened, her smile becoming brittle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Augustine said, her tone cool and measured, "you have a talent for making sure you're everyone's second choice. Whether it's friends, opportunities, or relationships—you never start with anything new. You just circle until you can snatch up the scraps."

Lenore's eyes narrowed, but Augustine continued, her voice steady, cutting. "You know, it's actually sad. You've taken a lot from me, Lenore. Attention, chances, time. But Max? He was never really yours. Not in any way that mattered."

The jab hit its mark. Lenore sat back in her chair, her knuckles whitening around the handle of her coffee cup. "You're delusional if you think he belongs to you. You can't even get him to open up to you."

Augustine smiled faintly, but the look in her eyes was sharp as a blade. "Maybe. Or maybe he was running to you because he couldn't handle the fact that someone actually saw him. Someone actually mattered. You wouldn't know what that feels like, though, would you?"

Lenore's lips parted, but no retort came fast enough. Augustine stood, gathering her things with quiet grace.

"Thanks for the coffee, Lenore," Augustine said lightly, her tone polite but laced with finality. "Next time you want to gloat about stealing something from me, maybe try picking something that wasn't broken when you got it."

She turned and walked out, her steps measured, her shoulders straight. Outside the café, the cold air hit her like a wave, but she kept her head high. Her heart ached, the pain of Lenore's words clawing at her, but she refused to let it show. Not in front of Lenore. Not ever.

Inside, Lenore sat frozen, her smirk long gone. For all her effort, all her pointed digs, Augustine had walked away unshaken—or at least that's how it seemed. And that, more than anything, stung the most.

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

Augustine pressed the call button on Willa's name, "Hey..." her voice cracks. "Um... can we talk...?"

"Aug... honey... you sound awful..." Willa's voice though it holds it slight slur to it, she's comforting.

"Mhm.." Augustine bites back the urge to sob as she walks down the streets of Monaco — her hands shoved deep in her coat. "Um... Max... he..." the words die on her lips. "Lenore..."

"What...?" Willa's voice is clearer now, "what did Max do with Lenore...?"

"He slept with her. He knew." Augustine mumbles. "He knew! He..."

"Augustine, get it together." Willa's voice cuts in. "You're Augustine Slade — you are the prize here. He slept with your sister, so what? Go lower and sleep with his dad, or something. I don't care what you do," a small pause, "Augustine, I'm really sorry..." she adds softly, "I know Lenore is the lowest he could've gone..."

"I can handle the badmouthing to the press and all the other girls! I can! But he knew Lenore was my biggest insecurity." the words leave her mouth in a whimper.

"Augustine!" Willa snaps. "Now is not the time to feel sorry for yourself, you have 6 months to make him regret hurting you, do it wisely. Use this hurt and turn it into something else. Whatever you do, do not give him any inclination that you know what he did. Do not. Let it be a skeleton in his closet until you talk to the press." she pauses, "drag him." she adds.

Augustine let out a weak laugh, "I'll try." she says weakly as she unlocks the door to her apartment and spots a small envelope on her coffee table. "Thanks Willa." she adds and then glanced at her kitchen counter.

Roses, white roses. Augustine's favorites. She reaches for the envelope and tears into it.

I'm Sorry
- M

Fuck. He knew her weaknesses — that was the thing about Max Verstappen, for as much as he took, he gave too. It was what Augustine loved most — he knew the little things about her. Lenore was right, Max wasn't hers anymore but a part of him would always be hers — this proves it.

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃