COLD BRITTLE HEART.

“Okay, wow! I didn’t think old people did that kinky fuckery, but nice!” Grace wasn’t old, but to Lourdes, she may as well have been over a century older than the brunette. The smirk that grew on her face was almost Cheshire-like, and she leaned in closer. “Okay but like, a choke collar totally does the trick right? Like, I love it when my partners have big strong hands, but a collar is where it’s really at. What about toys? Do does count as sensory?” 

They’ve just finished shooting a dinner when Reina’s finally dismissed for the evening and she notices Grace making her way to the balcony, and she’s got barely a moment to recompose herself before she’s greeting her guest. “Hi, hi. I hope you weren’t waiting long for them to finish.” Reina leans forward as Grace approaches to give her the standard Catalina society double cheek kiss, a formality in their world that would be rude to brush over. Weirdly, Reina genuinely likes Grace. The two clicked instantly when they’d met for the first time, their similar personalities mending instead of clashing like one might think they would. If anyone understands how absurd this whole thing is it’s Grace, considering she’s in the industry herself, and Reina welcomes the candid remarks with a bark of laughter. “You’re damn right we aren’t. It’s the exits and shit, and then we reshoot anything they can’t hear us say. It’s fucking excruciating.” Not to mention stressful, so when Reina notices the gift Grace has brought her, she can’t help but heave a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God you brought the good shit. I was afraid you’d skimp out on me,” she says with a shake of her head, her thoughts immediately going to the deranged women she now has to deal with on a daily basis. “You have no fucking idea, Grace. More and more everyday. And then I look at their blown out, puffed up plastic fucking faces and I’m reminded to never be driven to that. It’s a vicious cycle.” For a moment, Reina disappears back inside the house, emerging again with two lowball glasses with a few cubes of ice in them. She helps herself in opening the bottle between them, pouring them each a generous amount of liquor to start. She’d been nursing a glass of wine all night but it’s done absolutely nothing for her and Reina needs to get tipsy, and she needs to get tipsy immediately. “You didn’t want a mixer, right? Some Perrier, even?”

“If I had to wait any longer, I might’ve taken over and directed the episode myself.” Grace was only joking, of course, as the brunette leaned in to greet Reina, a customary gesture often to be seen on this island. Most of those nicety were false on her part, although the woman sitting before her seemed to have made an exception during the course of the time they had known each other. She had weirdly found a friendship in Reina, something that was a rare occurrence in her life considering how she kept most people at arm’s length or just found most people on this island living in a world of fantasy and too fake for their own good. Some of their fakeness could even be found on their physical features, which was a joke her in her mind that these housewives even thought themselves to look good with the amount of surgeries done to their features. Reina seemed different in comparison to the people she came across over the course of her life here though; it was why she welcomed her into her life in the first place. “That’s Bravo quality for you; let me know when you want upgrade to Hollywood standards,” She grinned, as she made herself comfortable on the seat opposite her friend. “Oh, never. Do I ever disappoint? I think not.” The brunette couldn’t help but allow the grin across her features to grow, the more she listened to Reina. She wasn’t necessarily finding amusement at her friend’s misery per say, it was more so that this was all to be expected from the housewives on this island. “Who’s the latest drama queen this time? Evelyn? Charity? But please, don’t ever fall for that trap, Reina. You, and your body deserve better than that.” Having plastic surgeries was something that Grace couldn’t ever comprehend. Although everyone wanted to maintain their youth forever, there was always an expiration date with that. Being behind the cameras taught her as much with the actors or actresses she worked with over the years. “Thank you,” She said gratefully, as she reached over for the glass. “No mixer for me, it ruins the good shit. So what are we toasting to, hm? To your grand appearance on the big screen?”

Austin raised an inquisitive brow, curious glint reflecting off his pupils. “Depends; are you trying to get me in trouble, Rothschild?” Not that he was against any sort of trouble. Hell, he didn’t hang around bars on a Sunday night to stay in his lane, and one way or another, he would’ve gotten into mischief anyways. It was yet to be seen whether it was the good or the bad kind, but one thing was certain; this little drinking game with Grace Rothschild was certainly intriguing. “My wife — she won’t know,” he replied, gaze suddenly dropping down, because she doesn’t care, he added in his head. “You know what, I came here to forget about all this shit… so let’s not talk about our respective partners and families, eh?” He shifted his eyes back towards hers, a shrewd expression on his face, almost as if to say, I won’t say anything if you won’t.

“If I’m only still trying, then clearly I’m not doing enough.” The brunette easily retorted, elbows propped against the table as her gaze met his and watched him for a moment - searching for any sign of him faltering, hoping to back out from whatever ideas that was coursing through their minds right now. Grace wouldn’t ever dare to do anything to tarnish her own reputation, particularly her family name. It was always why she was so proud of herself being able to plan ahead of all kinds of scenarios or letting someone else do the dirty work when she wanted to get up to no good. Maybe Austin might just be the person to provide her with a little entertainment to her night tonight. Only time could tell. “Hm, I was hoping you’d say that,” She hummed softly, treading slightly closer to dangerous territory for the pair. “Because I came here to forget all about this too — partners and families included.” Swirling her glass for a moment, she brought it to her lips before emptying its content once again. “Looks like we’re both in for a night, aren’t we?”

Claire nodded, “Touche.” And just smiled as she leaned back in the patio chair, let the sun warm her legs. She could have made compelling arguments for both teams, but instead, she was taking the day off to just sit in likened company and look at old photographs. At the mention of fucking, the former’s spine straightened and she stiffened. Her sex life, or lack thereof, was never something brought up in discussion. Claire didn’t like to talk about her asexuality, how the thought of being intimate with her own husband, the man she loves so dearly, made her uncomfortable and squirmy, like there was something lacking in her very being. She refused to make a comment, instead breathing out a chuckle at the…compliment? She could never tell with Grace, and she liked that. “Yeah, I was. First born daughter, and looked like they would feature me on a Sears catalog out of sheer principle.” 

It was a matter of stating the obvious for Grace; enjoying what they had before them and not doubting every decision made — as long as they were all thought through properly. Her entire life was spent trying to make the Rothschild name proud, proving her family wrong that her career choice was indeed, suited for her. With Claire, the woman wasn’t a prude, that was for sure. But it was a mystery that Grace would like to solve. Ocean hues watched her friend’s reaction, although decided not to comment on the way she suddenly stiffened...for now. It would be something locked away for later, that was for sure. “Well, it makes sense for them to show you off like a prized trophy; first borns tend to have that privilege.” A soft, but forced chuckle fell from her lips as she continued. “I grew up with several brothers, so being the only girl, it wasn’t so hard to fight for their attention too.”

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF…GRACE ROTHSCHILD / ‘CAMERA FEATURE’ MAGAZINE COVER (2019)

Dangerous — coming out of Grace Rothschild’s mouth, it should’ve scared any sane man away — but Austin was no sane man, and he was up for a challenge. “If you’re trying to scare me away, sorry to say that it ain’t going to work,” he replied, already well on his way to finishing his second drink. “I should be asking you the same thing. Anything really means anything.” His eyes, dark and impenetrable, met hers, and he made quick work over the rest of the liquor, and placed the empty tumbler on the counter. Before long, a full bottle of Johnnie Walker sat before them, and Austin uncorked it, a generous pour into the glass. “Figure we might as well set ourselves up for failure… or success, depending on how you look at it.” A mischievous glint flitted through his eye and he nodded, already sipping at his third drink of the night. “So tell me your plan again— is it to go home drunk to your husband and kids?” 

“I was only offering you a last chance to back out, before you might do something you’d regret.” Grace answered with a shrug, meeting his gaze to search of any sign of hesitation in his eyes. Following his suit, she finished the remnants of her drink. “And I’m here to let my hair down tonight, so I am down for anything. I won’t take it back.” Maintaining her gaze with his for a moment to indicate her seriousness, before breaking away and watching Austin opening a brand new bottle of liquor for the two of them. “I think it’s win-win situation from where I’m sitting, the only failure might just be one of our egos getting bruised in the process.” She couldn’t help but allow the bitterness to surface in her mouth at the mention of her husband, before pushing the boundaries farther as the words slipped out of her lips. “Who says I’m planning on going home?” To her husband or children, she happened to miss those words out. A smirk easily crossed her features, raising a challenging brow at him. “I should ask you the same about your wife too. Wouldn’t being up for anything get you into trouble?”

A chuckle escaped from his lips at the woman’s bold statement, pausing before flicking half the liquor down his throat with a newfound determination. “I don’t expect you to do anything for me, ‘cause it won’t happen,” he replied, not daring to put his glass down so he could keep pace. He at least knew that the woman wasn’t kidding, and judging by the way she downed half the whiskey like that, she was no novice to the drunken vice. “Hm, getting gutsy, are we?” He commented, furrowing his brow, a corner of his lips turning up just in the slightest. “Would think that bragging rights would be enough for your ego, but we can gamble.” Tapping his fingers on the bar counter, he turned to her, dark eyes regarding her sky blues, eyebrow quirked. “If you win, I’m game for anything you want, Rothschild. But you gotta put down the same bet, too.”

The brunette easily scoffed at Austin’s retort. “Well, I guess you just have to prove me wrong.” Grace had enough of picking up the slacks of her husband or playing the somewhat dutiful wife, that nothing seemed to surprise her about men anymore. She didn’t like to be proved wrong, although she wondered if Austin would taken upon that challenge, just as he did with this little drinking game of theirs right now. “You know I am, I don’t get to have fun all the time after all, so I might as well go all out while we’re here,” Grin widening, she couldn’t help but let her eyes roll at his latter comment. “I have no idea what you mean about my ego. I’m humble as fuck.” She blatantly lied, and she was sure the man before her knew that too. “Anything? Are you sure you’re ready for that?” She eyed with what only could be a mischievous glint in her eyes. Some ideas already surfacing her mind as she continued. “You know I can’t back down at this point,” She leaned forward, elbows propped on the table as she took another sip of her drink. “But you’re going to be playing a dangerous game with me, Bettelheim.”

The corner of his mouth quirked and he raised a brow. “Is that a challenge?” He asked, lips growing wider into a grin, “because I don’t back down from a challenge, Rothschild.” He turned more fully towards the woman, raising his glass for a moment before downing it in one gulp. “All right, now that that’s over with — bartender, two Johnnie Walkers… make them doubles, neat,” he shouted out. Soon enough, two tumblers filled with amber liquid were set in front of them, and he tapped his glass against hers with a clink. “And we’re off to the races,” he commented, grinning. “Haven’t had anyone outdrink me yet, so you better be ready.”

“Maybe,” The brunette merely uttered, a poised brow raised, amusement glinted in her eyes at his words. “Well good, because I’m stubborn and I won’t back down either. Don’t expect me to carry you when you’re too drunk to find your way home either.” A Rothschild trait no less, her competitive nature was shining through at the mention of a challenge. It had, perhaps been a while since someone entertained her like this. The truth was, some fun couldn’t hurt. Between working and being a mother, Grace really seized the chance to let her hair down momentarily tonight. Gladly finishing her drink before the bartender returned with two new ones, the brunette raised her glass to him before taking a generous gulp before meeting his gaze. “Is that so? I can say the same about myself.” She uncharacteristically smiled, before continuing. “So what will the winner get? And don’t tell me it’s bragging rights, Bettelheim.”

Austin chuckled, an impish grin crossing his face. “Seem to remember something like that at the last party. He’s the one that fell asleep on the couch, yeah?” He shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. “See, that’s why you marry someone that can keep up with you. Otherwise, you’re destined to drink alone,” he added good-naturedly, nodding towards Grace’s drink. At the mention of Parker, however, Austin’s mood immediately soured. Touring the country — hell, she barely left the home some days. “Didn’t wanna come along” he muttered, shrugging. The tension back home was strained to the utmost degree, and he had no desire to be sulking around, waiting for an argument to materialize out of thin air. Of course, no one knew — after all, on Instagram, they were the perfect pair, walking along the beaches of Catalina Island, hand-in-hand. Austin cleared his throat, sneaking a glance at the other. “Not feeling well,” he added for good measure, lest she suspect anything.  

For a moment, her expression faltered at the mention of her husband, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at the memory. “That’s the one, always the one making an impression on everyone.” Although Grace merely let out a small sigh from withholding all the pent up anger she had towards her husband. The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement at his next words. “That’s a shame, because I don’t think anyone can keep up with me.” Her stoic nature was broken for the first time of the night, genuinely no less. Not like the falsely perfected smiles she reserved for events or her daughter. A smirk grew evidently over her face at the statement. She meant it wholeheartedly. The brunette was sure no one was going to be able to keep up with her had they unravelled that haunting mind of hers. Oceanic hues fell to Austin as she watched his reaction, all the gauge and analyse the man that she simply knew no more than passing pleasantries at parties. “Well, I hope she feels better soon.” Grace simply said, although no quite meaning it. Her knowledge of the man and his wife merely came from word of mouth or town gossips. After all, her heart wasn’t warm enough to care about those around her. Maybe. “Fancy keeping me company, then? Unless you weren’t drinking alone when I made my grand entrance here?”

“Is it?” Austin asked, raising his forehead, regarding the woman before him. Her expression, unchanged, save for the subtle smirk that punctuated the end of her sentence, un-telling, like she had a secret no one knew. “I was under the impression that that was what people called you behind your back,” he said, chuckling at his little joke. “You know; because your face never moves, and it definitely ain’t ‘cause of the Botox. Believe me, I’ve been there — ex-wife injected that shit into her face like it was the elixir of life,” he added. Austin took a swig of his drink, squinting, nodding at her. “Where’s that husband of yours? Didn’t bring him along?”

The truth was, Grace took no offense to the nickname. If anything, it brought nothing but amusement at the gossip that circulated on this island. How people spent time forming nicknames for her simply because of the lack of emotions shown on her features. “Well, aren’t you daring to call me that straight to my face?” The brunette challenged, her smirk now fully etched across her features. “It’s all natural with me, I’m afraid. I don’t need to have anything more in common with some of the ladies around here, no offense to your ex-wife. I guess I just don’t have time to give people my time of the day.” She waved the bartender over for a drink, before she shot a glance at Austin. “He’s busy, but he won’t be able to handle drinking with me anyway. I didn’t want to be the one carrying him home.” She answered as calmly as she could, despite the slight anger rising inside her at the mention of her husband. “And what about your wife? Too busy touring the country to spend date night with you?”

for → @gracercthschild​ location: tbd time: february 23rd, 8pm

Whipping his head around, there she was — they were never really connected as much as they knew of each other. They’d met at a few parties, where they’d chatted over how one of his music buddies had scored a couple of her films, or that a singer-turned-actress he’d signed had gotten a part recently through her, but their relationship stood staunchly in the ‘acquaintance’ range. 

Until now. 

“Grace,” he greeted, nodding at her. “Even the Ice Queen needs a day off, huh?” 

She’d left Ada with the nanny; not when Grace watched as her husband forming some lame excuses to slip out of their home again. It was a toxic circle, a cycle of infidelity to which no shame even came near to her mind. The brunette was never guilty for her indiscretions — if anything, she simply wished she did it sooner, beaten her husband to it. Although tonight, she simply wanted to escape from the responsibility of being a mother and dull away the seething anger that surfaced at the thought of her husband, because a Rothschild never reacted. So she was there by the bar, all to be anywhere but the house that reminded her nothing of her failing marriage. “Austin,” She regarded him cooly, before the hint of a smirk ghosted over her lips at the nickname. “Ice Queen? Now that’s a first.”