“I’ve been kidnapped. I’m here against my will,” Julian says, flat.
“Wasn’t funny the first six times you said it, but sure, keep trying,” says the guy next to Julian. He gives Clarke an aggrieved smile. “PK Ostenoff, from Chronicle’s media team.”
“Hi,” Clarke says automatically. Yves brushes past her and joins the others in the seating area across from his desk. The entire wall over there is taken up with a blueprint-style graphic of the EM-64, the last Elemental model that won the championship. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?”
“Kidnapping me,” Julian mutters darkly.
“Making sure Julian holds up his end of the deal,” PK says.
“What deal?” Clarke’s mind flips over itself a few times, irrational horror building at the base of her skull. “Is—is Elemental signing Julian? Are you giving my seat to Julian?”
She demands the last part of Yves, but everyone in the room who isn’t Yves answers all at once. “Fuck no” is Julian’s rapid, vehement response. “We couldn’t afford him” is Naomi’s, which is true, embarrassing, and comforting all at once.
Yves gestures Clarke into one of the seats around the table. “Naomi and PK have a proposal that stands to benefit both Elemental and Chronicle.”
“We’re resurrecting the rivalry!” PK says cheerfully.
Clarke says, “I’m sorry, what?”
Naomi is delicately picking through one of the boxes of food on the table. “Your favorability is at an all-time low, even among Elemental fans. The public thinks you’re resentful of Julian’s success. We’re going to turn that on its head. Remind everyone that the two of you have been competitors since Juniors, but convince them it’s founded in a true, lasting friendship you’ve been keeping private until now.”
Clarke’s jaw is on the floor. “No one’s going to believe that. Julian and I can’t be in the same room for five minutes without ripping each other’s heads off. Right?”
She directs the last part at Julian, sure he’ll see that this plan is absurd, but he just shrugs, resigned. “I already agreed.”
Irritation blows through her, both that she’s the last person to know what’s happening and that Julian’s not on her side. “Why? Sure, it’d help my image if people thought you and I were friends, but what do you get out of it?”
“A personality,” Naomi says sweetly.
“Watch it,” PK warns.
“It’s notmyfault you designed a PR strategy for your guy that’s based around him being less emotive than a droid.” Naomi crosses one leg over the other. “At leastmyguy’s not insufferably boring.”
Is that Clarke? Is Clarke Naomi’s guy? And why isn’t Julian talking, why is he justlookingat Clarke?
“You’re the only other pilot Julian consistently reacts to off the track,” Sara says quietly to Clarke while PK and Naomi keep bickering, Julian continues to watch Clarke like no one else is in the room, and Yves ignores them all in favor of reading something on a screen. “He’ll banter with Delphine if he’s in a good mood, and he and Engel have a brothers-in-arms thing, but he doesn’t tend to interact with anyone else much, and when he does, it’s stiff. Chronicle’s been playing it off as a side effect of his focus, but it’s starting to hurt his likability.”
“He needs a friend on the grid, and you’re the best candidate,” PK adds.
Julian’s mood sours further. “I have friends.”
“I am not having this conversation again,” PK says loudly. “There’s footage banked from Julian’s first year in F0, when Clarke came to his races. There’s a gap, but it’s explainable. We can work with it, tell a cohesive story of coming back together after a shared tragedy.”
The allusion to Connor’s death hits hard, like it always does when Clarke’s not expecting it. She works to breathe around the sudden hole in her chest while Julian says, sharp, “No. We are not using Connor like that.”
“Julian.”
“Bring it up again, and I’m not doing this at all.”
Julian and PK glare at each other while the rest of them try not to stare. Clarke’s grateful to Julian for drawing this line in the sand, but she can’t imagine speaking that way to Naomi or Sara. Or anyone at Elemental, really.
Sara clears her throat. “We can do it without leveragingConnor Bennett’s passing. I have some ideas. An hour or so each weekend should be enough.”
An hour every week of Clarke and Julian pretending things between them aren’t rotten just under the surface? There’s no way. This is not going to be good for Clarke’s headspace, and she needs her headspace intact if she has any hope of turning this season around and saving her contract. But she can’t just say no; she’s obligated to do as she’s told, and Yves obviously wants this to happen.
She’s trapped. There’s no good outcome here.
Starting to panic a little, she again looks to Julian for help. He meets her eye with a steady, searching gaze. She wonders what he can read on her face. They used to be able to pick out each other’s emotions easier than their own. She doesn’t love the idea of him still having that type of insight into her, but she’ll take it if it means he can get them out of this.
