The lump in my throat seems to grow larger every time I swallow and tears of anger pin prick the corners of my eyes. I watch as the cops flash the lights but keep the siren silent as they pull out of my driveway.

That.Fucking.Asshole!

My hands are shaking as a quiet, steady rage builds up inside me. I wipe away the tears now streaming over my cheeks, with my trembling fingers and watch the police cruiser disappear as it turns at the end of my street and leaves my blurry vision.

I hate that I cry when I get angry. I’ve always felt like it makes me weak at a time that I should be at my strongest. Some people get upset and cyclone angrily, pulling in everything and everyone around them until they wear themselves out and leave a trail of destruction in their warpath. And then there’s me. The one who chokes up and sobs because the vibrating rage seems to get stuck in my throat and build into a boulder than I can’t swallow or ignore, and the only thing that makes it go away are the tears.

This is exactly what Erik wanted. He wanted to ruin our night, maybe even our future if the charges stick. He wanted to fester under my skin like a boil, making it impossible to forget him. Just like a child, if he couldn’t get positive attention from me, he made sure he still had my focus, even if it’s because he’s the focus of my hatred.

Well, he might think he still knows me. He might think he still controls me. But I’m not the naive girl he once dated. And I’m not his doormat.

Fuck that guy.

I turn on my heel and march inside, flicking away my tears and slamming my front door behind me with a wall shaking boom. I immediately grab my phone from the coffee table and swipe my thumb over it, pressing Fiona’s contact and listen to it ring.

“Vanessa? Okay, I just heard about the blow-out today. I was just gonna call you. Now, I don’t know if you’re wallowing in regret or popping champagne, but either way I’m here to help you. Also, and I think you’re going to like this, you’ve got another part being offered to you.”

“Fiona,” my voice is like cold, hard steel, “I do need your help.”

“Okay, tell me what you need, this is my time to shine for you doll. Want your part back on the Fifty Shades knock off? I’ll see if I can smooth it over…”

“No!” I don’t mean to yell at her. No part of this churning lava burning up my stomach is about her. “Sorry, it’s just that the police just paid us a visit at my place,” my lip quivers for a second but I take deep breath and push it back down. Crying won’t fix this. Now is the time for action.

“What? Why? What am I missing?” I can hear Fiona breathe out her puff of smoke over the receiver.

“Before I walked off the set, Erik was being a douche and Gabe punched him. He totally deserved it,” I try to explain.

“Of course,” she agrees.

“But the cops just arrested Gabe for assault. Apparently he’s pressing charges, the fucking coward,” I clutch the phone tighter in my hand wishing I could circle it around Erik’s neck.

“Okay, breathe, those charges won’t stick. It’s bullshit, right? No judge is going to throw Gabe in jail over a little scuffle,” Fiona snorts.

“This is LA, if it means hype, it can happen. I’m guessing the director is loving all the free publicity he’s getting out of this, not to mention Erik. There’s no such thing as bad coverage, right? Besides, he did it in the middle of the set. I’m sure someone has cell footage and there was a ton of witnesses. I’m not so sure it’ll be an open and shut thing,” I rub my hand over my leg like I’m trying to smooth out invisible wrinkles. “This is all my fault,” my voice creaks as my words feel like they’re getting stuck in my throat again. “I don’t know what to do. This feels like a fucking stupid dream, what am I going to do?” The tears I’d managed to swallow for this long, resurface like a pick ax hit into an underground spring. I can’t hold them back this time. They slide down my face and drip off my chin.

“Listen, Vanessa, listen to me. I’m gonna help you with this, okay? I have an idea,” Fiona coaches me through my breakdown.

“I’m listening.” I try not to sob in her ear and pay attention.

“Good, so, by any chance do you still have the stupid dick pics that Erik sent you?”

I don’t answer. I don’t say “what the fuck” out loud because I’m in stunned silence. Is this a real conversation? Am I dreaming? I stare down at the phone in my hand. How can she be asking me about dick pics at a time like this?

“Vanessa? Vanessa!” I hear Fiona’s muffled voice calling me and I bring the phone back to my ear.

“Seriously, are you fucking with me right now?” I manage to answer her through grit teeth. “Gabe just got fucking arrested Fiona, and you’re asking me that?”

“Hear me out, just calm down and listen to me,” she steamrolls over me nonchalantly, “do you have the pictures?”

“I think so, yeah,” I don’t remember deleting them, so they’re still on my phone somewhere.

“Great!”

“Are you kidding me?” I can’t tell if she’s messing with me right now.

“Listen! You told me he has a tattoo just above his cock, right?”

“Yeah, some old Red Hot Chilli Peppers thing, it says Blood Sugar Sex Magik,’” I rub my fingers over my forehead and wonder where this is going.

“Really,” she giggles.

“Fiona!”

“Alright, don’t bite my head off. Now, please, please, puh-leeze, tell me you didn’t exaggerate how small he is,” I can hear the glee in her voice.

“Trust me, I was probably being generous,” I answer flatly and try to push the image of Erik’s nub-like cock from my mind.

“Vanessa, I hope you’re ready for me to be your hero here. I mean, don’t throw me a parade or anything, but a nice bottle of wine will do just fine,” Fiona laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

“Erik is going to drop all charges, I can guarantee it. Plus, you’re gonna get the upper hand in all this. Can you taste that? It’s fucking winning Vanessa. Here’s what you’re going to do,” she continues.

I listen closely and finally the boulder in my throat shatters and disappears as a smile crawls over my lips. I’ve got to hand it to her, Fiona has a great plan. And she’s right, I’m going to enjoy playing this out.