Welcome To Hell.A.

by Stephens, L.

  “Would you like another, Mrs. Reynolds?” the waiter asked.

  “It’s Sarah. Mrs. Reynolds is at home with the kids,” Sarah said brightly, trying not to show her true feelings. “I think I’ll get a martini this time, very dirty please.”

  “My apologies, I’ll get that for you right away,” the waiter said, briskly walking away from the train wreck he had just caused.

  The martini arrived almost too quickly, and Sarah took no hesitation in taking a sip. Her eyes widened with the taste of the olive brine—the martini was dirty as fuck, just how she liked it. The door to the courtyard opened, and David came storming in, putting his cell phone in his inner jacket pocket as he sat down in a huff. He drank the whole glass of wine in front of him in one mouthful, and like clockwork the waiter was back.

  “Another, sir?” the waiter said, clearly avoiding using his name.

  “Leave us alone will you, you fucking leech!” David snapped.

  “Yes, sir,” whispered the shell-shocked waiter.

  “David!” Sarah scolded.

  David looked at Sarah then back at the waiter who was moving away from the table.

  “Sorry, okay? I’m sorry,” David said sheepishly. “Get me a Jack and coke. I mean, get me a Jack and coke, please.”

  “I’m not sure we have that, but I’ll check,” the waiter said with a little disdain that someone would pair such a delicious meal with Jack Daniels and Coca-Cola. “Just a moment, sir.”

  “If you don’t have it, go to the liquor store and fucking get some,” David growled.

  The waiter didn’t turn back to David. He just scurried towards the bar, a man on a mission.

  “David, is everything okay?” Sarah asked softly. “Because that was not cool.”

  “What sort of question is that?” David said through his teeth. “Whose side are you on?” He grabbed his fork and stabbed at the small portions of meat on the plate in front of him.

  “I was just asking,” Sarah whispered, trying not to cause a scene.

  David ignored her and practically stuffed the whole meal into his mouth.

  “This is cold!” David said with his mouth full. “I'm not paying for this, shit!”

  “David, what's wrong?” Sarah pressed.

  David cocked his head to the side. “I'll tell you what's wrong,” he said raising his voice. “These desk jockey assholes are cutting my budget, and on top of that they want me to shoot in fucking Vancouver!”

  “Is that such a bad thing?” Sarah asked trying to coax him off the ledge. “I thought they were going to scrap the film all together.”

  “You obviously don't understand the situation,” David said, dismissing her with his hand while finishing the rest of his meal. “Typical fucking actress!”

  “Look, if you are going to be a dick, I'll leave,” she said, looking at David intently.

  “Fine,” David said, folding his arms.

  Sarah took the blanket-like napkin from her lap and put it next to her unfinished dinner. She moved to stand, when David reached across the table and grabbed her wrist.

  “Stop, please. I'm sorry, baby,” David pleaded. “You know how much pressure I’m under. I can’t breathe.”

  Sarah sat back down and looked to David.

  “I need you. Christ, I left my wife for you,” he said, tears welling in his eyes.

  “Left? You lied to both of us, and then she kicked you out of the house,” Sarah said with a touch of venom. “I hardly call that leaving?”

  “Come on, you know that's not true,” David whimpered.

  “Here is what I know is true. You live in my house, you treat me like shit and you expect me to like it,” Sarah said with fire in her eyes. “When will you understand I'm not one of your silly little actresses, following you around like a lost puppy?”

  “And what do you mean by that?” David gaped at her.

  “There is a reason I don't take any of the parts you offer me, David,” Sarah said, leaning towards him.

  “I know, I know, you want to make it on your own,” David said, mocking her.

  “No. I don’t take those roles because I am already in your shitty little film,” Sarah growled. “It's a small role, and I'm definitely not getting any fucking credit.”

  “How long have you been rehearsing that little gem?” David laughed.

  “Way too long, obviously!” Sarah said, folding her arms.

  David took a sip of Sarah’s martini, looking at her the whole time. She looked away—another moment in time where he had just taken what was hers without any acknowledgement.

  “Am I really that bad?” David demanded, slamming the martini glass on the table. “That last guy you were with—now that was a piece of shit!”

  “Don't bring him into this,” Sarah said, slightly taken aback herself. “He may have been a fuck-up, but he never took it out on me.”

  David reached over the table with his fork and took some food from Sarah’s plate. He knew he was defeated but was not going to lose the battle completely. Sarah looked at him with hate building behind her eyes. She had a bad habit of surrounding herself with assholes that demanded all the focus be on them, but tonight she was going to end that cycle. David looked up to see her glare and slowly swallowed. He took a sip of water this time and took a breath.

  “Sarah, I'm sorry,” he said, changing tack. “This film—this film might be my last shot. I… um… we… have a lot riding on this.”

  “We?” Sarah scoffed, rolling her eyes.

  “Yes, we. You and me,” David said sweetly. “I don't want to be that guy, believe me, and after this film, I can take a break and try to become the guy you fell in love with.”

  “I'm not sure I remember that guy,” Sarah said evenly.

  “Give me another chance. I promise it will be different,” he pleaded.

  Sarah examined David with her eyes. This was her chance to end it, to rip off the Band-Aid and move on and away from this tool. But before she could say anything, a vibrating noise and a flashing light came from inside David's jacket. He didn’t look at it. He just looked at Sarah with big puppy dog eyes.

  “Answer it,” Sarah said with frustration in her voice.

  David was already reaching for it before she had even finished the two-word sentence.

  “Arty!” David said cheerfully into the phone as he left the table. “What did they say?”

  As he was heading to the courtyard he passed the waiter carrying a tray with his Jack and Coke on it. He grabbed the drink and put the phone to his chest.

  “Just so you know, the food was cold and practically inedible,” David growled in the waiter’s ear. “I’m not paying for this crap!”

  The waiter gave David a forced smile, but David had already gone, continuing his conversation on the way to the courtyard.

  CHAPTER 26: TITS N SHIT

  He doesn’t love me, Lynne thought. He never did. I deserve all of this heartbreak. I was just a walking vagina to him. I should have never given him my heart. He doesn’t love me. He never did.

  Ava had turned into a sugar monster. All the ice cream and candy had sent her bouncing off the walls in their hotel room for the past hour, and Lynne didn’t give a shit. She had happily joined in the silly games Ava had made up, from turning the room into a giant fort to a beauty pageant that Ava had won, beating out Lynne and Ava’s doll, Jenny. It was all her part of her master plan to make Ava remember something positive about the day, not her mom getting fucked by numerous dudes. Lynne knew she could never, ever be naked in front of her daughter again, not even at the beach or the pool. She was even thinking about becoming Muslim, so she could wear a burqa twenty-four-seven, so Ava would never have any flashbacks to when she saw her mom getting railed by a bunch of naked dudes. It really wasn’t a matter of if but a matter of when.

  “Alright, crazy girl,” Lynne said, picking up Ava and shaking her gently. “We need to get you ready for bed!”

  “No mommy!” Ava squeaked. “We’re still pl
aying!”

  “Look it,” Lynne said, carrying her over to the window. “The sun has gone to sleep already, which means you’re up past your bedtime. You don’t want to miss tomorrow because you’re still tired!”

  Ava’s bedtime was usually around 8pm, and it was already past 9, so Lynne was starting to tighten the grip on her little monster’s sugar rage.

  “I don’t want to, mommy,” Ava protested. “Let’s watch princesses!”

  “Okay,” Lynne relented kissing her on the cheek. “But first, we got to get you in the bath and ready for bed!”

  The Princesses movie was everything to Ava. Lynne was surprised Jenny hadn’t been replaced by one of the characters already. Lynne had been very strict on not allowing Ava to watch anything on TV or on her iPad for the first three years of her life, but since Ava had started going to preschool, Lynne realized she was falling behind the other kids who had been watching and using digital devices since they were one. Lynne still controlled what she watched like a hawk and only allotted certain times for screen activities. Ava’s favorite were The Princesses, Sunshine High and Mungkee Monkey. It wasn’t as if she was going to say no to any of Ava’s requests tonight anyway. If she wanted to stay up to see the sunrise that was more than fine, as long she didn’t bring up anything to do with what had happened earlier.

  “Make me into a burrito!” Ava called as she put on her pajamas.

  “Let me dry your hair first, silly girl,” Lynne said as she chased Ava around with a towel. “Can’t have you catching a cold! Big day tomorrow!”

  “Are we going to see daddy, tomorrow?” Ava asked while trying to battle Lynne’s drying of her hair.

  Lynne stopped cold. It was the first time Ava had acknowledged her dad. She had never even asked where he was or why she didn’t have a dad like the other kids at school. Ava's question had come out of nowhere. Lynne's real plan was to take Ava to Disneyland tomorrow, to surprise her with an amazing adventure to turn around this terrible trip and everything that had come with it.

  “I’m your daddy, baby,” Lynne said sweetly. “I’m your mommy, and I’m your daddy!”

  “Silly mommy,” Ava pouted. “You can’t be mommy and daddy!”

  “Yes, I can!” Lynne said as she put the towel down and got on her knees in front of Ava. “If you can be my daughter but also be a super, magical, fairy princess, I think I can be both the mommy and the stinky old daddy!”

  Ava giggled and Lynne tickled her, trying to hide the pain she was feeling inside. The hits just kept coming, and she knew soon enough, she would have to give a real answer. She just hoped Ava wouldn’t grow to resent her. She was just doing her best, even though she was misguided and short-sighted a lot of the time.

  “Burrito!” Ava demanded. She put her arms by her side and rolled on the ground.

  “Okay, silly girl,” Lynne said with a laugh.

  She knew there was no way in hell this little sugar monster was going to see the inside of her eyelids anytime soon.

  Lynne wrapped up Ava nice and tight in her favorite blanket, she looked more like a little glow worm than a burrito, but at least Ava couldn’t run around or move anymore, she was confined to the bed right next to her mom. They watched The Princesses movie on Lynne’s iPad, and to Lynne’s relief Ava fell asleep before the princesses had even met each other. She let the movie play on though. Ava had a sixth sense. She could wake from the deepest sleep when she sensed the movie had been stopped and reprimand her mom for turning it off.

  Ava asking about her dad had been running through Lynne’s mind the whole time the movie had been playing. She had tried. She had tried a million times to get him to see her, but he had his own family and didn’t give a shit financially or emotionally. The only time he had even seen her after Ava was born was when Lynne had texted him a nice juicy tit pic to lure him over. Lynne glanced to the phone on the bedside table as soon as the thought hit her. She got her tits out for people online every single day. What was the shame in one little tit pic that could result in her precious daughter seeing her father?

  Lynne kissed Ava on the forehead and slowly got off the bed, making sure not to wake her little blanket burrito. She grabbed the phone from the bedside table, slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. After pulling up all the unanswered messages from him that she had sent she almost aborted the idea then and there. Messages that went back four years hadn’t been answered, so the idea of sending a tit pic at this juncture was absolutely insane, but Lynne was desperate. She wrote a quick message and pressed send. It read:

  “Hi Mark, Ava and I are in sunny California, staying downtown of all places! We’d love to see you tomorrow if you got time. Let me know, okay! XOXO, Lynne”

  The message made Lynne feel sick, it was right below another message that read:

  “Fuck you Mark, fuck you and your family. You don’t know what you’re missing out on by choosing to ignore me and Ava. We are the best thing to ever happened to you!”

  Lynne had been drunk when she wrote that, but she meant every word of it. The message below might seem bizarre to Mark but once she sent him the follow-up, all would be forgiven and the mean message would be sent off screen. Lynne pulled up her shirt and her tits, still as juicy as ever, hung perfectly in front of the phone’s camera. She took the photo, and the phone flashed and combined with the sound of a camera clicking. She pressed send on the photo and wrote another quick message to bring home her point. The message read:

  “These miss you too!”

  “Silly mommy!” Ava squealed. ‘What are you doing taking a photo of your cha chas?”

  Lynne hadn’t even heard her. Ava had escaped from her blanket burrito prison and had seen the whole thing.

  CHAPTER 27: BOTTLE RAT

  What a fucking loser, Jill thought as she looked at the back of the Uber driver’s dumb head. She hit upload on the cute little video she had just made in the back of his car. He had been watching her in the rearview mirror as she pouted and winked, but she still caught him giving a silent chuckle, and that had made her blood boil. Jill wasn’t posting this to her main feed, just her story, which was only visible for twenty-four hours, so it was just something to keep her in people’s minds, even if they had already prayed at her shrine by giving her a like. She had held the camera tight to herself this time. She didn’t want the world to know she was slumming it in the back of a Honda Accord on the way to the club. “Off to drinks with the girls!” is what she had written in text over the top of the video, but the truth was she was going out alone.

  Jill stepped out of the Uber without a word and slammed the door shut. Sequins ran up one side of her dress. They weren’t gaudy, but they also weren’t classy. They were purely there to lure in the fish. The dress was short, black and backless. It showed plenty of side boob, but covered her cleavage to the bottom of her neck. Even though it was black, the dress was sheer and she wore no bra, using magic tape to keep her breasts perky and her nipples as close to the fabric as possible. Jill didn’t want to think about what she had done to get the fucking gardener to pay for her night at the Starbrite motel and to let her use his credit card so she could use the Uber app on her phone. It was far too distressing, and she had work to do, instead of relaxing and sleeping till Monday, when she could access her safety deposit box. She was heading out to Hollywood to find some guy to look after her for the weekend, because even though she had made the fucking gardener’s life, he had told her the Uber rides and the Starbrite motel were only good for the night.

  For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why the fat asshole was being so cruel. She had only ever been good to him. What girlfriend willingly gets you hookers and gives you blow jobs whenever you want them? Jill had been with him for just over six months, and she was a fucking saint throughout their whole relationship. She had only fucked one or two, maybe three of his friends and acquaintances in that period. When she had gotten the SIM card set up, she hadn’t called him. His number was one of the few numbers
that Lurch hadn’t deleted. He had gone through and deleted all the rich and powerful men she had met through Max, all the rich and powerful men she had been planning on contacting. She was pissed at herself for not backing those numbers up and losing control with Lurch. She definitely had let her guard down. Leaving her thumbprint the only security to her phone was rookie shit. She just hoped the fucking gardener kept his fucking mouth shut about their little transaction. She had successfully logged back into her main avenue of future cash in Instagram. They could never take that away from her. Well, if he was smart, Lurch could have deleted her account, but thank God he wasn’t that vindictive. There were a few guys she could have hit up for a weekend of lust through direct messages on Instagram, and she had pondered it a while, but she knew the rejection might just kill her in her present state.

  It was 10pm, kind of early for the nightclub scene in Hollywood. Most of the clubs were just opening and Jill knew no one of any real worth would be seen dead at the club this early, but she had work to do, and from experience the earlier she got her talons into a guy the better. Thoughts of going to the secret karaoke bar where she had met the fat asshole filled her head, but she wasn’t ready for that just yet. She wanted to get a little tipsy and see what she could get before submitting to throwing herself at truly ugly men.

  The club wasn’t one of the elite ones in West Hollywood. The clientele at those hot spots were ideally what she was looking for, but they usually came with assistants or handlers that could smell Jill and her intentions a mile away.

  Jill had only been at the club ten minutes when she saw her first target. She had spurned the advances of three guys already, which was par for the course, but she was still careful to be nice, because you didn’t want to deny the golden goose. Just like everywhere else, Hollywood was full of horny guys, but the big difference was the guys in Hollywood thought they were good looking. These guys were entitled. They felt they deserved to talk to Jill and she should be honored because they had a great smile or chiseled features. They thought they were a gift that needed to be shared with any girl that had a pulse. Jill didn’t care about looks; cash ruled everything around her.