Maggie looked into the shocked face of one Trevor McCain. There was no reason for this egotistical jerkwad to be shocked. Did he really think she wasn’t going to go after him? He must be crazier than she considered.

Without a second thought, she stormed past him and into his living room. Briefly looking around, she couldn’t help but be impressed. For some reason, she had imagined his living space to be a dingy “bachelor” pad, but it was actually designed in a modern Chic sort of way. He had big leather couches that anyone would die to fall into and be enveloped. Dark hunter green walls and an entertainment center that was so big, it should be illegal.

“Who the hell do you think you are barging in here?” Maggie heard from behind her.

“Who do I think I am?” she asked turning to face him. Her hands on her hips, ready for battle. She came here to try and figure him out, but if he wanted to battle, the gloves were coming off.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” He walked purposely towards her, causing her to take a step back. Scary man charging. Abort, abort!

“You don’t get to show up at my home banging on the door as if you’re trying to wake the dead,” he growled.

“I wasn’t waking the dead-“

“And another thing, who the fuck even told you where I live?” His nostrils flared.

She looked into his narrow eyes, and she saw nothing but anger and annoyance. Why the hell was he annoyed with her? He was the one that left her with questions unanswered. He’s the one who constantly bullied her. He is the one that confused the hell out of her.

Ignoring his question, she reached into the top of her dress and pulled out the box. “What is this?”

He glared at her, before jerking his head away. “Fuck, I should have known better.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“It’s a gift,” he said as if she was a two-year-old.

“Don’t you dare talk to me in that tone of voice,” she demanded as she walked to him, poking him in the chest with her finger. “I know it’s a gift. You yelled Happy Birthday, threw the box at me then took off. Why?”

“Didn’t seem to affect you too much.” His jaw was tight as he peered down at her.

“What is that even supposed to mean? I swear I need a freaking manual for you.” Realization hit. She threw her hands over her mouth. He’d only ever do this to make up for all the shit he’d done if he was dying. “Oh god, you really are sick. Are you dying?” She placed the back of her hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

He hit her hand away, taking a step back from her so he was no longer in her reach. “I’m not sick, you psycho.”

“I’m not the psycho. You’re the one that hated me, then out of the blue gave me a freaking birthday gift. You’re the psychotic person here, not me.”

“It obviously didn’t affect you in any way, because not even two minutes later you were letting some guy practically fuck you on the dance floor.” He growled.

“What are you-” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you talking about the waiter that knocked me over and was trying to help me?”

“Oh, he looked like he was helping you alright. I could practically see how hard your nipples were and I was watching a fucking video.”

She motioned to her outfit. “Do you see all this, numbnuts? He was trying to help clean up all the shit that he spilled on me. I swear to god, you seriously have something wrong with you.”

He took a step towards her forcing her back. “You’re right, I do have something absolutely fucking wrong with me. You wanna know what that is, Maggie?” he asked as he pushed her up against the wall.

“An STD?” She assumed.

He growled so loud it caused her to shake. Was it fear or anticipation? She didn’t know. “You,” he said. “You’re what’s wrong with me. Ever since that fucking day you walked in on me you’ve been the problem. You’re the fucking cause of all my problems. You and your fat fucking body!”

Her anger took control. Fuck this guy! She placed the palms of her hands on his chest. Pushing back as hard as she could, she freed herself from his confinement. “You fucking prick. You no good, low life, piece of shit!”

She moved past him and headed towards the door. “I don’t know why I even came here.”

“To annoy the fucking shit out of me,” he barked. “Admit it, you found the perfect excuse to stalk me, right? Now you know where I live. You don’t have a car right now cause it’s still in the shop so let me guess who dropped you off? Don’t worry though, Maggie. Come tomorrow morning your precious boyfriend will be out of a job and a career.”

She started stomping towards him. “Danny didn’t tell me where you lived, jackass! I swear to god something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that. My problem is you.”

She stared at him for a moment. Why would anyone in the world act like this? He was nothing more than a spoiled child. He actually stood there scowling at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

Then it dawned on her what he had said.

“How do you know my car is still in the shop?”

She watched as a brief second of panic played against his features, but he quickly recovered. “It’s a piece of shit car.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, but it’s been weeks. How would you know it’s still in the shop?” She stared him down.

“Lucky guess.”

“No there is no lucky guessing here. You knew exactly where my car was. There was not even a hint of doubt in your words,” she accused.

He turned away from her moving throughout the room.

That jerk did not just dismiss me!

She started stomping towards him, a new determination in her stride. She walked directly behind him and pushed his back. “Answer me!”

She pushed him again when he didn’t react. “Answer me, you jerk. How did you know my car was still in the shop? Are you the one stalking me?”

He turned lighting fast to face her, pure hatred in his expression. “I know your fucking shit car is still in the shop because I’m the one who’s paying for it!”

His words hit her like a punch to the stomach causing her to take a step back. “What?”

He strolled over to where she had moved backwards. “You heard me. I’ve been the one paying for your car that really needed to just be junked in the first place.”

“You can’t be the one paying for my car,” she protested. “I already gave him a check.”

“God, you’re not only stupid, you’re naïve as well. Who in their right mind would think a car repair for all the shit wrong with your car would only be $500.00? Especially in LA?”

Oh god, $500.00! He knew exactly how much she had paid the shop. Oh god had he been controlling her this whole time? Was this some sick game to him? Maybe he was going to have her car fixed up and then make her indebted to him? Oh no, she could not have that. No way!

“You did this so I would have to owe you, didn’t you?” she accused.

“Jesus Christ!”

“You did! Admit it! This would be the perfect game for you, fuck with my only transportation. No transportation means no auditions, no jobs, no fucking money. I said I was sorry, okay? I swear to god I never meant to walk in on you and that bitch. This is not the ultimate payback.”

She saw the confusion in his eyes, but it was quickly masked with disappointment. “You know what, I did it to be nice. Lord fucking knows why, but I did it because I knew you needed to have a reliable car in LA. Why can’t you just be grateful that I helped you?”

“B-be grateful?” she stammered. “You want me to be grateful? I never asked you to help me with my car! Just like I never asked you to publicly humiliate me in front of the whole cast and crew.” She felt her heart rate increase along with her anger. “Oh wait, that’s it now. You feel guilty. Hey well, at least you have some sort of a conscience in your delusional self-absorbed head.”

“There you go again. Can’t you just be happy with the fact that your car is getting fixed? You’re an ungrateful bitch.”

“And you’re a pompous fucking asshole that only wants to fuck with my career. I know you, Trevor. I’ve had to deal with people just like you my whole life. You think you’re the first person to “fuck with the fat girl” just to get their kicks? Well, I have news for you. I’ve been dealing with bullies like you my whole fucking life. You’re a walk in the fucking park compared to my own goddamn mother. So, you know what, Trevor. Take your fucking charity and stick it right up your freaking ass!”

Maggie made it through the front door slamming it shut before heading out to the parked car.

“Fuck!” Trevor started to pace around the front room trying to make sense of what had just played out. When he saw it was Maggie at his front door all his thoughts somehow left him. All he could see is the image of that waiter’s hands all over her. Something inside of him snapped and instead of doing what he originally planned he lost it.

To make matters worse, she was still wearing the skin-tight dress.

“Damn it! Fuck! Shit!” He continued to pace around the room. Why couldn’t he get it together? He had planned on finding her and then… well, he didn’t know what, but when she found him first, all his plans went to hell. It was like he got around her and all his common sense just disappeared. And, he insulted her again.

He needed to get this shit together. There was no other way around it. He closed his eyes, trying to control himself. Images of her bouncing around angry as she stomped towards him clouded his mind. Her breasts bouncing, begging for him to reach out and touch them.

Then the image of the waiters fucking hands all over her shot through his mind. He threw his eyes open only to stare at the box he had given Maggie laying on the floor.

“Fucking, brat!” He’ll teach her a lesson on manners. One she was not going to forget.

He picked up the box and headed towards the front door.