Beatrice was vomiting.

This was the third time this week, and she wasn't even sure why. It was 4am and she was leaning over her toilet, holding her own hair out of her face as she stared down at the now stained porcelain interior. She laid her head against the toilet and chewed her lip. She had to be at the studio in an hour, and she hadn't eaten breakfast or bathed, and now she was scared to do both. What if she threw up breakfast. What if she threw up in the shower. Neither option sounded particularly enjoyable or worth the risk. So, instead, Bea got up from the floor, brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair and got dressed. She then exited the apartment, got into her car and headed to work.

Upon arrival, Bea parked in the parking lot, climbed out of the car and locked it, before turning and heading inside. As she did, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and smirked when she saw it was Liam. His hair messy, his face unshaven, dressed in casual work clothes, he looked handsome as ever, a joint hanging from his lips that he was attempting to light as they walked.

"So, how was your night?" he asked.

"It was wonderful, a coworker and I had dinner, then we went to their place and we watched classic foreign films and debated the artistic merit in todays media landscape before ravaging eachother on the couch," Beatrice said, as she and Liam stopped at the door outside the studio. Liam smirked and took a long inhale before passing it to Bea, who hesitantly took a hit.

"That does sound nice," he said, "it's weird, I had the exact same night."

Beatrice laughed, coughing out smoke as she handed him back the joint. They'd been sleeping together for years now, and it was nice, Beatrice had found, to have that kind of company in her life. Besides, she and Liam were two halves of the same mind, in a lot of ways. Both creative, with Liam being more business driven than her, so they made a great pairing, especially in the kind of world they inhabited, career wise. A true power couple. Liam took another puff, then exhaled, squeezed the tip and tucked it into his shirt pocket before turning to head inside when he felt Beatrice grabbing his tie and yanking him back to her, kissing him, making him laugh. He put his hands on her hips and kissed her back happily before parting and heading into the studio together.

And it was good that they would have this one night and morning to look back on, because this was the day that Liam would ruin her life, in more ways than one.

***

Liam was laying on his couch, staring at his TV as he watched a show about Antiques, arm half buried in a box of cereal. He watched with intense interest as the show switched gears, away from a doll collection, and instead now focusing heavily on a beautiful armoire. Vintage, large and oak with glossy finish, it looked pristine. Liam nodded along as he listened to the narration of the presenter, as they informed the person who'd brought it in exactly what it was they had. A clunk. His remote had fallen to the floor, and Liam rolled over a bit, reaching for it. When he rose back up from this position, he realized the camera had cut to a shot of the presenter, and he found himself still, almost frozen, at the sight of him.

A tall man, with well kept blonde brown hair and wearing a gorgeous cobalt blue suit with a dark yellow tie, his face lightly salted in stubble. Liam's eyes widened as he watched this man speak passionately, not taking in anything he was saying he was so focused on the mans features. Liam felt something inside him shift, and he sat upright now, slowly shoveling cereal into his mouth. His door opened, and he turned, taken totally by surprise, at Beatrice as she entered, softly shutting the door behind her.

"You look glum," Liam said, mouth half full of cereal.

"I didn't interrupt you did I?" Bea asked, and Liam shook his head as he stood up from the couch and wiped his hands on his pants.

"No, of course not," he said, "not at all. Um. You didn't call, what...what are you doing here? Did we have a date or?"

Beatrice carefully set her things down on his kitchen bar facing outwards towards him and then placed her palms flatly on the tile, sighing deeply. Liam got nervous. This sort of physicality rarely was followed by anything good. Beatrice wouldn't look back up at him as he shifted himself towards the counter and sat down on a stool opposite her.

"Bea?" he asked.

"...we have a problem," she said quietly.

"I guess you...you found out," Liam said, catching her off guard. Now she looked up at him, face screwed up in confusion as Liam sighed and said, "yeah, I knew this would happen. I knew I'd have to face this. Um, I'm sorry. I'm sorry but we needed the funding, and...and ya know, these sorts of restaurants are all the rage now and-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bea asked.

"...this...this isn't about the..." Liam asked before stopping himself, "what is this about?"

"What are you talking about?" Bea asked, now concerned.

"Uh..." Liam said as he watched Bea connect the dots in her head and her eyes widen, her jaw drop a little, her lip quivering.

"You didn't," she whispered, the rage in even a whisper barely hidden, "you fucking didn't."

"I'm sorry," Liam said.

"You son of a bitch!" she shouted, "you absolute son of a bitch! We talked about that!"

"Bea, listen to me," Liam said, walking around the counter and taking her hands in his own, linking their fingers as he looked her in the eyes, continuing; "listen, it was a literal necessity. They provide us with funding and, as a result, we do small promotions for the restaurant and they get to use our likeness in the establishments, it's a win/win, okay? Artistic integrity is great but it doesn't pay the bills or produce work."

"I was already mad at you, but now I'm furious," Bea said.

"What else could I have possibly done?" Liam asked, laughing.

"You got me pregnant, how about that?!" she shouted, and Liam's entire demeanor shifted. His smile instantly vanished, his anxious laughter turned to silence, his posture softened. He backed away, opened the freezer and grabbed a bottle of vodka, popping it open and taking a drink right out the spout.

"fuck," he said.

"Yeah, fuck is right," Bea said, leaning against the counter, arms folded.

***

When Bea and Liam had initially met, each one hadn't expected this to turn into what it would eventually become. Liam loved her immediately, but platonically, not romantically. He admired her creativity, her brazenness, her bravery to just go for the gold and chase her dreams the way dogs chased cars. Likewise, Beeatrice loved him for a multitude of reasons, but, again, not exactly romantically. But the more time spent together in this creative partnership, the more they began to see how obvious it was they were right for eachother in every possible way...except for the sexuality.

Liam had always hidden his interest in men. He'd always known it, but he'd hidden it. At least, after a certain age. When he was a young boy, he'd known another boy, named David. David and Liam had been in school together, been best friends, but when they reached middle school, when David started being interested in girls, Liam felt jealous. He wanted David's attention all to himself. Instead, he went along, also trying to like girls, simply so they had something to talk about beyond mere boyish interests.

Likewise, Beatrice had also always known about herself, but had tried to hide it even more than Liam had done for himself. She'd been so obsessed with certain girls growing up, certain women around her, that she would write their names in fancy cursive in her notebooks, fantasize about being with them, but would always know what society would do if she acted on any of it. She couldn't live like that. Moreso, she couldn't put her parents through that shame, even if she knew they would love her regardless.

So each hid it, as was custom back then. And then they had Claire, and, ironically enough, having a baby as a seemingly heterosexual couple was the one thing that finally pushed their hidden homosexualities out into the open.

Bea and Liam would attend dinners, playdates, school functions, play the role of doting, loving parents - which they were, none of that was ever pretend - when in reality they weren't straight in the slightest. And one night, at a social function for the kids in the neighborhood, Bea found herself in a neighbors bathroom when a woman she only sort of knew from Claire's school, asked to come in so she could adjust her makeup. Bea, having finished her business and now only washing her hands, agreed. And while the woman reapplied her eye makeup, she scoffed and shook her head, saying a single thing that would forever alter the way Beatrice saw love.

"They think having a baby is going to make them love eachother," she said, "but it doesn't, and I can say that with certainty, as it didn't save my marriage, and we still divorced. You can't love something you weren't designed for."

And with that having been uttered, Beatrice knew, deep down in her soul, that one day she and Liam would have to face up to what and who they were, and that Claire was the colatteral damage. And she fucking hated herself for that fact. But what she hated herself for more than that was she had had a chance to avoid her daughter from ever being hurt like that...

...by avoiding having her altogether.

***

"How much could it cost?" Bea asked, causing Liam to shrug as he poured her another shot before taking another long drink himself.

"Quite a bit, I would imagine, but it's not like we can't afford it now with what we just made from this franchise deal," Liam said, "but that's only if you want to do that."

"Perfect timing, huh? One problem solves the other," Bea said, "...this show is like our child, we don't need another."

Liam smirked and nodded as he watched Bea down her shot. Liam looked towards his wall and saw the photos of himself and his parents, how happy they were, and remembering his childhood. His home. His family. He felt a twinge of hesitation in his heart, and he glanced back at Bea, who was now smiling herself. He smiled at her, confused, as she looked up at him.

"I love my parents," Bea said, "my parents are so good. They were always so supportive, encouraging, they were, just...they were everything, still are. And, maybe, you know...maybe this wasn't planned and we're not prepared, but maybe it could be okay?"

"Don't be blinded by nostalgia, Bea, okay? And don't do it for the sake of my feelings. You're a woman, you're the one with the organs to make this come to full fruition, it is entirely up to you. I'm just...here to offer support and guidance if I can, where necessary. I'm okay with whatever choice you wind up making. Besides, a life like we have, with all the work that we do, could we realistically make time for a child? In a meaningful manner?"

"Don't know until you try, right?" Bea asked, "We're already 7 years deep into this, I think we could manage. We can definitely afford it."

Liam nodded, agreeing, even if he wasn't certain. But the more Bea talked about it, the more convinced he became it could be a good thing. And yet, in the back of both their heads, was that doubt. That nagging doubt. Not about their love for a child, their inability to be parents. That was never once brought into question. But about themselves. The truth of each of them. Truth each had tried to hide from the other. Bea tapped her shotglass on the counter, indicating she wanted another, snapping Liam back to reality. He poured her another shot and watched her drink it as she paced around his kitchen. She stopped and looked at the fridge, her eyes scanning over the photos he had plasted to the fridge with magnets and she smiled, chuckling.

"I remember this," she said, reaching out and touching one; she continued, "this was when we went to the fundraiser a few years ago, remember, and we took my parents? They were so excited to come see what the declared the 'fine arts'. Like, guys, just cause it's at a museum doesn't make it fine arts automatically."

Liam chuckled, remembering. Bea sighed and tapped the photo with her nails.

"...this will ruin our lives," she added, "this will absolutely ruin our lives, guaranteed. But, maybe...we deserve to have our lives ruined a little bit. We've had it too good for too long, after all."

Liam threw his head back and cackled, which, in turn, made Bea laugh. She reapproached the counter.

"If we do this, though," she said, "We cannot hold it against one another, okay?"

"Agreed."

"I will be mad at you for many things, but having a child will not be one of them. This is our decision, not theirs. They get no ire from it. I refuse to bring a child into the world if that's what awaits them."

Liam was so smitten with her in these moments, where she showed so clearly how empathetic and intelligent she was. How much she understood a childs psyche. And all without having undergone severe trauma or abuse. Beatrice was, by definition, the perfect antihesis to the belief that great art and compassion can only be borne from deep pain and suffering. Liam sat upright on his stool best he could, the both of them fairly drunk, and he stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"It's not a business deal," she said, the both of them laughing as she walked around the counter and climbed into his lap, whispering, "now kiss me before I change my mind."

Claire would be born nine months later. And six years after that, just as Beatrice had predicted, their lives would be ruined. But never because of Claire. At least, not in their eyes. Claire, however...Claire had never gotten over it.

***

"I always wondered what I did or said that made them leave me," Claire said quietly.

She was sitting in Justine's kitchen with Keagan while Justine drank a beer. The lights were dim, the air was quiet, and Keagan was simply taking in what Claire was saying, occasionally side eyeing Justine, seeing as she'd already drank quite a bit this evening.

"I was six, and they were all I knew, and then sudenly I was with an entirely different family. I think, maybe, they didn't expect me to remember them, and maybe, had I been, liked, four or something, that could be true, but I remembered. They were so good, how could I not? I remembered everything."

"Well, soon as we verify some things and form a plan of approach, we can bring this all to her attention, okay?" Keagan said, smiling warmly, "until then, you're free to stay here, nobody from production is going to come around and see you, so you'll be hidden away until the perfect time."

Claire nodded, then asked to use the bathroom. Justine directed her to it being down the hall and on the left at the very end. Claire exited the room, as Keagan turned to face Justine, who finished her drink and opened yet another. She'd gone through the entire six pack of ciders in the span of an hour. Justine laid her head flat facedown on the table and exhaled loudly.

"Are you okay?" Keagan asked.

"No," Justine said sternly, "of course I'm not okay. I'm working on the book of a dead girl, a girl who's only dead cause I didn't make time for her, why would I be okay?"

"Casey wasn't your responsibility, you know that right?" Keagan asked, and Justine scoffed as she looked up, smirking.

"That's what Michelle said to Bea the last time they saw her. Then she killed herself. I'm starting to think, I don't know, we all might be responsible for eachother," Justine said, her speech slurred. She was asleep seconds later. Keagan couldn't shake that out of her head, but she also couldn't deal with it right now, so instead she got a quilt from the couch and laid it over Justine before propping her head up on a couch pillow on the table. Keagan entered the living room to find Claire sitting on the couch now.

"What if she doesn't wanna see me?" Claire asked.

"That's not gonna happen," Keagan said, chuckling, "you're her daughter, so you say, I can only imagine she'll be excited as all get out to see you."

But Claire had a point. Neither knew it then, but the past was about to repeat itself. Claire was going to arrive, seemingly out of the blue, and Bea's life would be ruined once more, in the best kinds of ways. Keagan began pulling her coat on, reaching for her keys in her pocket, when she felt Claire's hand grabbing her wrist.

"Don't go just yet, okay? It's...it's lonely, far away from home," she said, and Keagan nodded, sitting beside Claire, the two just talking endlessly into the evening, the only ambient noise filling the silence being Justine's snores from the kitchen. Keagan knew all about found family, and even if Bea had trouble adjusting, she wouldn't let Claire feel alone. She knew what that felt like. They all did. But she bit her lip as Claire told her more about her childhood, and she thought about the one thing she had to do next that she really wasn't looking forward to.

And that was telling Michelle.