Envy's Former Duplex, The Hegemony Compound, Brazil, Monday

[whenshewasnice]

Enough time had passed. It was time to face the world again

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[lockestheway]

Peter had taken some time to finish up his business, first; he had no idea how long saying goodbye to Envy was going to take. Could go either way, the way she was now.

He made it there an hour or two after getting the text, two cups of coffee in hand. He knocked with his elbow.

[whenshewasnice]

Envy was just about ready. Not really anything left to do but wait a while for the portal.

She came to the door. Said "Hello" and stepped back to give way. It was probably the politest she'd been the entire time she'd been here.

[lockestheway]

"Hello," Peter echoed, his eyebrows shifting upwards.

But he took the opening and stepped into the apartment.

[whenshewasnice]

At least she wasn't cordial or anything of the sort.

"So, I'm leaving," she said, as she closed the door.

[lockestheway]

"I assumed so," Peter said. He shot a look around the room. "What's your plan?"

[whenshewasnice]

It looked like she'd never even lived here, again, apart from the piano and her bags neatly on the floor by it.

"Montreal, to see my parents and sort out the apartment issue." Meaning paying someone to cart all of Todd's belongings to storage until she figured out what to do with them. "Then New York. I'm meeting with Demonhead's manager and a producer to talk over the future."

[lockestheway]

"Any ideas on what that future will be?" Peter asked.

He sounded genuinely interested.

[whenshewasnice]

"Well, we've agreed it's not really worth it to try and gather up another full band," she said, idly brushing her bangs back. "Not one where everyone's supposed to be a star in their own right, anyway."

So.

Solo, with backing musicians. Maybe.

[lockestheway]

"I heard you play last week," Peter said casually. "It sounded good."

[whenshewasnice]

"Of course it did." No modesty, though there may have been something to her tone. Like she was pleased. If you squinted, anyway. "I need new material," she added, as if as an afterthought. "The Demonhead songs are... Well. Old news."

She didn't want to sing them anymore. Not for a while, anyway.

[lockestheway]

"You can take the piano with you, if you'll need it to write," Peter said. He nodded at it. "Or we can keep it parked here."

And maybe she'd come back to it every now and again.

[whenshewasnice]

Envy rolled her eyes. "Do I look like someone who'd lug a piano across the multiverse? There's one at my parents' house, and I have the keyboard at h-- the apartment." Not home. Home was an abstract concept with no physical manifestation at this time. (This wasn't home, either. It wasn't.) "And I'm sure Gideon will provide one in New York if I need it. So this one stays here."

You know. Just because.

[lockestheway]

Peter shrugged. "It's still technically your property," he said, "I have no interest in making presumptions."

You know. About the location of the piano.

"Who's Gideon?"

[whenshewasnice]

"Gideon Graves." Somewhere, Sam was inexplicably breaking out in hives. "He's this rising star in the world of indie producing. We played his club in New York a little while back."

[lockestheway]

Peter nodded thoughtfully. "Good," he said.

He held out a coffee for her. "I'd like to see you soar," he said. "And it sounds like you have that well in hand."

[whenshewasnice]

She accepted the coffee.

"I do. And I will."

There was no doubt about that.

"I'm not about to let one cheating asshole of a boyfriend take that away from me."