#chat:hopper

She shouldn't have felt the same kind of nerves approaching her boss unannounced now as she had when she was younger, but Atta couldn't help herself. Rumors had begun to fly around the hotel about Myles' brother's involvement in the attack, though Atta hadn't recognized any of the men as ones who worked for Hopper. The one she was more concerned with was the whispers about the borders opening soon, especially after this. To keep people trapped on an unsafe island, with nowhere to go, would've been cruel. And, if Atta was only finding out about this the night prior, that meant that Hopper must have already known, and was likely a hundred steps ahead of her.

With a knock on his door, Atta entered as he waved her in unceremoniously. She took the seat across from his desk, the debate she'd began on her way over on how to approach this still not mentally settled. "Were you at the festival last night? I didn't see you, or anyone else, but I wasn't sure if I was missing something." It wasn't a direct accusation, but enough for Hopper to know what she'd meant. "And is it true, about the borders?" Atta added, hoping he would appreciate her directness.

The knock on the door from one Colin Hopper was bound to happen eventually, whether he was there to see Lilah, Annette, or Scamp himself. The two women seemed like the more likely reasons to visit, even despite his current injury. In his time recovering, Scamp tried to think of what he would even say to him, whether he would apologize for not doing better, or resign on the spot, before he could even protest. He still wasn't sure when the doorbell rang and Ellie let him in, the only other person who happened to be home with him. Either he was hoping that he might catch his mother or Annette at home, or this wasn't a visit meant for either one of them, at all.

Instinctively, Scamp sat up straighter on his mother's sofa, still getting used to moving so quickly while he healed. He managed to let out his usual formal greeting through a stifled groan in moderate pain, giving him a nod of his head. "My mom and Annette aren't here, if you're looking for either of them. I'm not sure when they'll be back--Danielle's here until then," he explained, feeling oddly formal for what they'd experienced together just the other day. There was an elephant in the room the size of a twenty-three year old girl that Scamp didn't feel like addressing until it was brought up by the new father himself. "I can just, uh ... well, I'm sure you have both of their phone numbers now, but I can tell them you came by."

Atta’s heart dropped into both her stomach and her throat at the same time, if it was possible. She stared at him blankly, unsure what to say. A fraud? She knew he didn’t think much of her, but that was a new low she hadn’t expected to reach. “Sir, I--I don’t sell guns and smuggle cocaine,” she countered quietly. Sure, her name was on the trucks that transported them, but he had been a part of all of the dealings, not her. “I don’t understand what you want from me, I’m trying ... I’m doing my best.” What more she could do to satisfy him, Atta wasn’t sure. She had put in the work he requested; the long hours, making sure that all of his dealings were in place. “If this is about that one truck, I can promise you that it won’t happen again. I’ve learned my lesson, I swear.” If there was a time to threaten him, it would be now, but she didn’t even have everything together to try and overthrow him just yet. She let out a cough as the smoke reached her face, covering her mouth with her hand. “I don’t want to upset you, Hopper, that’s the last thing I want to do. I just don’t know what else it is you want from me.”

This day was bound to come eventually, the one in which Hopper and Atta would meet again. She knew it was coming, but having control over when exactly it would happen was most important to her. Atta had laid low over the past few months, steering clear of the spots where she knew that he might be. That was when she'd felt still vulnerable to whatever he had up his sleeve, before she knew that she could trust the man she'd selected as her partner entirely. She had no doubts about him now, though--no matter what was to come of this conversation, Atta would be fine. She was about to have her company back in her own hands, stronger than she'd ever been before against a man who could make her cower at the very sight of him. Unafraid now, Atta knew what she had to do as soon as Kit had told her that he'd reached out to him. This was her mess to clean up, and she was ready to put her gloves back on.

Atta caught him alone, outside, where he was taking a break from the loud festivities inside. Though she'd told her husband where she was headed, this was something she had to take care of alone: she didn't want the shield of a man protecting her. "It's quite cold out here," she commented as she approached him, Buster's jacket shrugged over her shoulders, the ends of the sleeves protecting her hands from the cold wine in her glass. "I wanted to talk to you, I heard you'd reached out to Kit." Atta rocked on her heels, avoiding telling him precisely what she'd come here to say. Once she delivered the news, there was no turning back. "That won't be necessary. It'll be back in my name tomorrow morning."

The days were growing dangerously close to her wedding, and Atta was ready to throw the biggest Hail Mary she had. There were few things she wouldn't do to keep herself from walking down the aisle, and she was prepared to bargain her way out of marriage. Most of her plotting had been done at this very bar, laying out the options for herself for when this very moment came, but never before had she brought them to Hopper's back office. After taking an uncharacteristic shot of tequila, she shook out her limbs of the nerves that threatened to come out and in the form of word (or physical) vomit.

With a knock on the door at the precise time she asked to meet him, Atta knew there was no turning back now. With a small nod of her head, she took a seat across from Hopper's desk without so much of a look from him. "Sir," she mumbled, seated uncomfortably on the very front of her seat. With her notes in hand, Atta sucked in a silent breath, still in a bit of disbelief over what she was about to do, and risk, for the likely inevitable. "I'm here because ... I'm sorry, I can't marry Myles. I just cannot. Your brother is a good person, and I won't let the two of us sit through unhappiness forever," she started, slow and cautious--exactly as scripted. He still seemed unfazed from his chair, still hardly paying attention to her. Atta was going to have to fight for this: both his attention and what she wanted.

"I'm not going to do it. I'll publicly call it off, I don't care. This has gone on way too long, and is affecting far too many people. Myles almost died. And if you don't let me out of this ... I'm prepared to sell everything, and not to you, nor to him." All she could do was hope that it was enough to start a conversation, and not get a gun pointed to her head. "This is the only thing I've ever asked of you, from the beginning, since the minute you demanded this. I'm--I don't want to beg, and I don't want to fight you." Her face softened, and Atta could only hope that she could touch some sliver of humanity deep down in his rock-solid expression. "Please."

where: kit's office

Atta had never felt like more of a mess than she did right now. She had been a nervous wreck all day, but she'd pulled herself together with a smile just long enough to survive the important part of the party. Myles had gotten on one knee, slid a ring on her finger, and she'd smiled for the photos that came afterwards. As soon as she was done being ushered around on her now-fiancé's arm, though, Atta had found a half-empty bottle of champagne on one of the catering tables and made herself at home on the floor of Kit's upstairs bathroom. She'd known about this day coming for months now, but the sight of a diamond on her left hand and a publicly sealed fate had left her feeling more helpless than ever. The deal was done, and she was effectively tied to Colin Hopper forever.

Thankfully, Kit had come to check on her in her moment of weakness, giving her a much needed hug and offered to let her take another bottle of wine from his office when her champagne was finished. It was safe to say that the champagne hadn't lasted long at all, and Atta was already on her way to Kit's office, but only after an attempt to dry her tears in the mirror and pull herself together.

Her appearance only lasted as long as it took to see a familiar figure seated in the chair behind the desk. Tears welled in Atta's eyes, her boss and future brother-in-law the absolute last person she needed to see her cry. He looked up from his glass of whiskey to see a barefoot Atta, shoes and empty champagne bottle in hand. "Sorry, I--I didn't think there'd be anyone in here," she mumbled in apology, frozen in the entryway. "I just came in here for this bottle of wine Kit keeps behind his desk, he said I could have it," Atta explained, lifting her hand to wipe her cheek. "I'm sorry for all the chaos earlier, I had no idea it was coming, I swear."

As she approached the bottom of the aisle, there were two distinct thoughts that stood out, glaringly: one, that Annette and her brother hadn't gone down before her, and two, that it was better this way. By the time she reached the end, she was certain she didn't want Hopper's new daughter seeing him as angry as she was about to make him. What would've felt like a walk of shame just yesterday was now one of triumph and pride: Kit on her arm, and a manila envelope of files in the other that would save her. Wordlessly, she gave her friend the signal, a nod that sent them on what felt like a mile by the time she reached the end of it.

After giving Kit a tight hug and her sister a wink, Atta didn't approach her fiance, but instead, her brother behind him. As she handed over the folder of paperwork, she gave Myles' hand a small squeeze, the assurance that she'd gotten them out of this for good. They could live their lives together, but separate, in a way that she knew would be worth it one day. When they were old and grey and with people who loved them more than they could ever love each other, she'd think back to this day, and how much it'd taken her to get here.

"I tried to give you these earlier, but I had no choice," she said simply, pressing the envelope into his hands. "You can call it off now." As Hopper flipped open the front to the page that would tell him she was already married, the boy she couldn't find before was now racing towards them, approaching the altar. In a flash, the chaos she'd created spread like wildfire in a different direction, and Hopper took Lilah out the door just as fast as Scamp had come to them, in search of the missing bridesmaid.

~timeskip, to thumper's yard, a few hours later~

Out of her wedding dress now, Atta had been waiting around Thumper's for word on Annette and the state of the hotel. As far as she'd heard, Myles had become good friends with its owner, and it sounded like his time would be much better enjoyed helping Mavis recover from the aftermath. It lightened her heart a bit, to know that he'd found someone who cared about him, who he could care for now. Someone else out there deserved all the love he had to give that Atta couldn't return.

Hopper's car arrived back without his daughter, who she'd overheard on an eavesdropped phone call was on her way to spend the night with her other side of the family. Atta made her way to his office, feeling much more defeated than the victory lap she'd wanted to take. Her trucks had been destroyed, people could've been killed, and as much as she couldn't quite blame all of it on herself, she was sure Hopper would have no problem doing just that.

He entered with a hint of fury she hadn't seen in a while, not since she'd fought with him months ago over this very day. Atta stood instinctively, giving him a nod of her head without a glance of her gaze. "I'm sorry to hear about the hotel, but I'm glad Annette is safe," she said slowly, cautious. "I hope you don't think I had anything to do with it. I would never lay a finger on her--I'd never do that to you, or to Lilah." She'd promised that to him a while ago, when he'd last threatened her sister. "If you didn't have a chance to read everything I gave you, I understand. It's what I'm here to discuss, along with what happened to my trucks, that seemed to have been burnt."

Though Atta had never actually been threatened by Colin Hopper before, she always felt like she straddled the line between safety and an open target on her back. The only person who could ever hurt her was the one with the gun in his hand now, pointing it straight between her eyes. Even then, she wasn't entirely positive that he would pull the trigger. Life would have been so much easier for him had she just been dead in the first place, but they were in too deep now. With her gaze focused on his finger on the trigger, she watched in what felt like slow motion as it flinched until it snapped. Atta's nerves jerked in place, her eyes instinctively closing as she accepted the fate she'd explicitly asked him for. The click that could've ended her life came and went, and as Atta opened her eyes, she was still standing before Hopper, who had toyed with her life like it was a game for him. A semblance of a smirk on his lips, he put away his weapon, and Atta stood frozen before him, unable to move. "I'm sorry I said that," she let out, another robotic apology that she was so used to giving by now. It seemed that anything and everything that she did warranted one at this point. "That was ... stupid, it was--I shouldn't have said that." With how easily he could've taken her life, Atta felt suddenly foolish for challenging him to do just that. "I don't care what happens to me, as long as Dot, my mother, and Myles are safe. I don't want anything to happen to him again."