[ though she isn't one to put what weighs her on display — not in the way that some people have cried out and complained directly into the ears of the entire orber community solely for the sake of attention — kovacs knows that marta has plenty that she carries silently, hints of it in the ways she's unraveled in private in his company, in the way she otherwise holds herself from day to day, taking a breath and facing forward even when he can see it in her eyes when it all starts to gradually overwhelm her.

she's stronger than she gives herself credit for, but it doesn't mean she isn't allowed this, seeking the escape in ways he's all too guilty in chasing night after night, whether it's diving down to the bottom of a bottle or aiming for a distraction through other means.

he won't ask her to elaborate, to describe any of it, if that isn't what she wants to do. because he knows the difference between needing to get the words out and wanting to drown them out, and it's with a silent glance that he speaks his reply — i know. setting the bottle back onto the table, he slides it back along the table to place it in front of her, glass scraping against the wood. ]

Came to the right place. Because there's nothing louder than that shitty happy jig they're playing there on the piano — [ he nods his head, gesturing to the echoing entertainment on the other side of the room, noise to accompany some of the girls on staff here to move into an upbeat dance. ] Try getting that out of your head for the next few days.