by LS Anders
Blah, blah, blah…no one was ever completely beyond reproach. Everyone had a dark side. Everyone had shit in their past that they wanted to keep hidden, but it was only a matter of time before the stink resurfaced.
He'd hidden his skeletons well. So well, it was like panning for gold with Vehn. Sifting through the waters of his perfection to find any microscopic piece of dirt to add to and pass off as a 24K gold turd.
It was the perfect plan, to make him out to be a bad guy and bathe him in a grotesque new light. The public loved to see famous people fall from grace, and this fucker was going to hit hard, making Regina look like the poor little unsuspecting victim. People would feel sorry for her and take pity on her, elevating her up on her own pedestal.
And the photographer who had captured the indiscretion on film? A fucking media genius. She wouldn't even need to finish school after these pics hit the covers! Television stations, magazines and newspapers would be vying for her attention. Next stop... CNN.
Originally, Regina's plans had been to use the extra publicity from Vehn’s retirement announcement to bask in the limelight for as long as it lasted, and she was hoping she wouldn’t need him anymore after that to further her career. She was planning to cut ties with him at that point in hopes her career would stand on its own without his help, and then she would end the relationship when she was ready.
She was still reeling from Vehn's decision to retire, which had thrown wrench number one into her career-generating machine. Then he threw in wrench number two, ending their relationship, which sent her into a nearly uncontrollable rage.
Talk about hell hath no fury! Regina was out for blood, and Freda had had to talk her down after this second hiccup in her plans from some seriously crazy shit that could have landed them both in jail. Even though Regina was in no way, shape, or form in love with Vehn, she had taken the break-up hard and was itching to get even.
Regina was one of those people who had to have everything on her terms. This was just one of the reasons why Freda was staked out on this cold-ass rooftop. All so Regina could exact her revenge against Vehn for dumping her when she wasn't ready and putting an abrupt halt to progressing her mediocre career.
It wasn’t in Freda’s nature to be malicious, but she had to consider the bigger picture, and that did not include a filthy-rich male model and his nobody-girlfriend’s reputations. Sometimes you had to be straight up selfish to get ahead in this world. Besides, that fucker was loaded, so what cares did he have?
As for his new girlfriend? Well, who the hell was she anyway? Some tattoo artist in SoHo that happened to stumble into Vehn somewhere? He had girls practically hanging off his dick. It’s not like he was going to fall in love with this nobody anyway. He could have anybody he wanted.
Freda didn’t dislike the guy. He was actually just like the media had portrayed him, a super nice guy. That was the way he came across to her the few times she had interacted with him in class at the New York Film Academy Photography School.
But she was so in love with Regina, she would do damn near anything for her. Including taking pictures of Vehn and his new girlfriend all in the name of garnering media exposure for Regina.
The alternative would be to have to share her girl again with some other celebrity to keep the spotlight on her. That was not an option. Freda had already reluctantly put up with a year of Regina’s dick breath.
She hated it when Regina would return home from a date with Vehn. Even though the girl would pop a piece of mint gum into her mouth before she got there, she could still smell him on her. Apparently, Wriggles hadn't been invented to mask cock. Gross! Her shiver had nothing to do with the outdoor air temperature.
She would never reveal this to Regina, but she had secretly celebrated the unexpected breakup. It was all she could do not to jump up and down with excitement when Regina told her the news. But now that they were no longer an item, the mission at hand was to find new ways of keeping Regina in the spotlight without his help.
What Freda was doing to help Regina wasn't completely selfless. She had everything to gain from helping her, because once the photos were published and she received credit, she would be helping her own career in the process.
She felt a moment of pause, then quickly shook it off, getting a little angry at herself for feeling sorry for the new couple that was about to get hammered by the press.
“Whatever. Fuck him!” she mumbled, straightening her spine.
She wasn’t going to even entertain the slightest bit of guilt over this. No one was that good. He had to have done something bad in his past that would eventually surface, tarnishing his pristine reputation. She and Regina were just going to hurry it along.
The way she saw it? He was just taking up classroom space learning to be a photographer when he didn’t need any more money or another career.
Who the hell did he think he was anyway? Vehn Mathieu, that’s who! A man that had already made a name for himself. Jesus, dude, give someone else a chance! That was what she kept telling herself to justify her part in this charade.
There was always a hefty price to pay for fame, and if she could pass the bill onto someone else for payment, then so be it. Once Regina was done running Vehn and his new girl through the tabloid gauntlet, it would be a miracle if their relationship survived and an impossibility if she and Regina weren't made into household names overnight.
Another glance down at her watch told her she had been there long enough. Her legs were beginning to shake, becoming as restless as the rest of her.
Once Vehn had carried his new lover back inside, they had remained there and out of the eye of the camera. She had been hunkered down up here for over two hours, and still nothing. Time to vacate. Standing, she stretched her legs only to drop back into a crouch when the light from Vehn’s kitchen unexpectedly switched on.
Holding up the camera, she was poised and ready for more photo opportunities. She scoffed, dropping the camera when Vehn’s roommate came into view.
Lifting the camera and bringing the roommate back into frame, she adjusted the zoom. She would have thought he was quite the male specimen—or she would have thought so a few years back, before she decided she preferred the taste of pussy over that of cock.
When the guy popped the top off his beer and turned on the television, she stayed where she was for a little longer before deciding again that there was nothing more of real interest.
Packing up her camera, she withdrew her cell phone from the back pocket of her black cargo pants. She hit the number one on her speed dial, and Regina answered before the first ring ended.
“Hey, gorgeous. Between this and last weekend, I’ve got plenty of good shots. Are you ready to make headlines?” Freda smirked.
Freda scrolled back through her photos from that night while “yeah-ing” and “mmhmm-ing” in all the appropriate places as her new love interest chattered away on the other end of the line.
“Ok, baby. See you in a bit,” she said. “I will. I will. Ok, love you, too. Bye.”
She did have some incredible shots. A picture was worth a thousand words, even if they were all based on a bunch of lies.
Callie's stomach plummeted to her feet like a boulder hitting the bottom of a shallow pond. A wave of nausea crashed over her as her heart stopped beating and fractured into a million pieces. Sliding from the couch, she dropped to her knees, leaning forward to brace herself with one hand on the hardwood floor, the other clutching her chest.
Her cell phone started going crazy, vibrating in a circle where it had fallen out of the pocket of her short silk robe. No doubt, someone she knew had been tuned into the same channel she had.
She needed a bathroom STAT. Sucking back a few deep fortifying breaths, she pushed off the floor and rushed to the half bath off the living room, barely making it to the toilet in time to unload her breakfast.
Yep, there it was, partially digested bits of bagel with cream cheese floating in a pool of now murky coffee-colored toilet wate
r alongside the tiny pieces of her broken fucking heart.
It was amazing how quickly your perception of life could change. One moment you are floating on a cloud of utter contentment, where all the parts that made up your life are meshed together in perfect harmony and the next? You are holding your own hair back while you puke up aforementioned pieces that had fractured apart and were now clawing their way out of an opening entirely too small to accommodate the jagged fragments.
Up until this point, she had thoroughly been enjoying that morning’s coffee, drinking out of the same cup Vehn had favored the one time he had stayed at her place. Why he liked the damn thing so much was anyone’s guess.
It featured a cartooned haggard housewife with hair rollers in various stages of disarray, wearing a tattered robe and bunny slippers, one with a broken ear. The bubble above her head spelled out a shitty attitude towards Mondays, and a look of utter dissatisfaction was firmly slapped in place on her face. Callie couldn’t recall where she had gotten the cup. Had to have been a gag gift from someone, because she didn’t remember buying it.
That rich creamy liquid had warmed its way down to her stomach, joining the glowing fullness of her heart as she reminisced over her Tuesday night date with Vehn. After finishing off her bagel, she had been sipping and sighing blissfully as she blindly flipped through the channels on her television, paying no mind to the images fliting by. Not paying the least bit of attention until she saw someone she recognized.
Startled out of her reminiscing, she had nearly spilled her coffee, dropping the remote. She had to hold the thing with both hands while she backtracked a couple of channels stopping, where an image of her was plastered on the screen.
The picture was slightly grainy from having been blown up from its original size to zoom in on her face, but it was definitely her. And she knew the exact moment it had been taken.
Her head was thrown back and turned slightly toward the photographer. Her brow was creased, her lips parted in pleasure as all of her concentration was focused on the very first explosive orgasm Vehn had given her with his cock.
Instead of a wonderful flood of wetness between her thighs from thoughts of that particular moment, all she felt now was nausea-induced mortification. Stomach acid bubbled a searing path up her esophagus, settling in the back of her throat, but what had made her heart come to a screeching halt was when the camera slowly panned out to reveal the photo in its entirety.
The romantic setting of that rooftop above the restaurant came into the frame. It showed the outdoor pergola and the loveseat with Vehn nestled between her gaping thighs. They looked like they were posing for an erotic book cover.
No. That description was being waaaaaay too kind! Vehn looked like he was getting lucky. As for herself? Well, she just looked like a straight-up whore.
Once she’d made it past the initial shock of seeing her image captured in a real-life sex scene on national television, she was able to understand the words that were being said by the reporter. Apparently, Vehn and Regina were still together and her relationship with him was a sham.
And to top it all off, she was being named as “the other woman”. The home wrecker. Surprise! They were engaged to be married, and apparently, she was his last hoorah before he officially tied the knot.
As she was instantly transported back in time to a certain virginity-stealing high school heartbreaker, another surge of bile percolated up to join the burning sensation at the back of her throat. She had been used by Vehn, too, only as a last fling instead of as a pawn to win a bet among his friends.
However, this situation was way worse, and not just because her indiscretion was being made very public instead of being limited to her high school, but because she'd only had a passing crush on Michael. This time, a great deal more of her feelings were involved. She had fallen in love with Vehn!
This wasn’t going to be an incident that would eventually fizzle out due to lack of interest, either. This was a catastrophe that the media was going to absorb and then regurgitate all-the-fuck-over everywhere, to all points on the globe.
So not only was she going to have to go through the mourning process of a broken heart, but she was going to have to relive it every single time she saw an image of Vehn, or anytime the news was sluggish and they decided to resurrect this story to boost ratings.
Her mother used to always say “With age comes wisdom” when Callie would do something completely stupid. Well, apparently not in her case! Sorry to disappoint you, Mom.
She was definitely getting older, but she seemed to have missed the boat on the wisdom part. She was more gullible now than she had been back in high school. You would think the older she got the less gullible she would become. Nope! Not her.
This was entirely all her fault. How could she have been so stupid as to believe a man like Vehn Mathieu would be truly interested in her? He was a celebrity, and she was one among a cast of billions, a virtual nobody.
A strangled laugh escaped between her sobs. To hell with photography, the man needed to go into acting! He was so believable. Even the way he looked at her was convincing. She really thought he was falling in love with her, too. Went to show how incredibly stupid she really was.
Oh God, she had let him photograph her nude with his camera phone! She inwardly cringed.
At the time, she had found it playfully erotic. But now she merely felt like a damn fool. And what if those pictures made it to social media sites? Not that she was famous, but she worked in a well-known tattoo shop in NYC. She could lose her job if Evana thought that would hurt her business, and she couldn't blame her—she would have no choice.
Let’s not forget about all the unprotected sex they’d had! If she couldn’t trust him to tell her the truth about his relationship with Regina, then she sure as fuck shouldn’t trust him when it came to STDs! She could already have something that penicillin wouldn't be able to fix.
That marvelous feeling of flourishing love had woken her up earlier than normal, carrying her on an adrenaline high to the kitchen for coffee. She had originally planned to have a nice relaxed lazy morning, taking her time getting ready for work. Now she was going to call in sick and haul her broken heart to the nearest walk-in clinic for a complete panel of blood tests for every STD known to man.
Reaching up, she pulled the hand towel off the hook, sobbing heavily into it. Finding some strength from who-knew-where, she pulled herself up off the floor using the edge of the pedestal sink and splashed cold water on her face. The chilly water caused her to lose her breath and did nothing to help the gut-wrenching twist her stomach was in.
Oh God, this hurt! This hurt worse than any other break-up she had ever experienced. Her entire insides felt like they were stripped raw, her soul unraveled and dipped in acid.
She had the worst luck with men, but she needed to face facts. The only common denominator in all three of her relationship catastrophes was her. Obviously, she sucked at relationships with the opposite sex, but being face-to-face with another woman’s vagina had never appealed to her. At this point, she was willing to give it a try.
Her cell was still buzzing a path across her hardwood floor. Someone was obviously desperate to get in touch with her. She needed to answer whoever it was before they assumed she was dead, having hung herself in the shower.
She had to look around before she found it, as it had buzzed its way under the sofa. Reaching under, she snagged the thing mid-buzz and looked at the screen. Then had to rub her eyes and make sure she was seeing the missed calls and texts correctly.
They were all from Vehn. But why? To gloat? Because damage control was a little too fucking late!
Her cell buzzed, letting her know another message had been left. She plopped down on the edge of the couch and pulled up his contact information, deciding to block him, needing to gather her thoughts.
It buzzed again, scaring the shit out of her, but this time it was Dylan texting. Propping herself up in the corner of the couch, Callie sent Dylan a
text without reading the words because there was a happy face after Dylan’s typed words. Her best friend had no idea about the latest and greatest.
Callie: it’s over with vehn.
Dylan wasted no time in texting back.
Dylan: WTF! u said all was great! what happened?
Callie: he lied. he still has gf, same one as before!
Dylan: do i need to come kick his ass?
Callie: no i'm the one to blame. so stupid to think he would want me.
Dylan: callie don’t do this to yourself! i’m calling u
“Hey, Dylan,” she answered on a sniffle.
“Oh my God, Callie! Tell me exactly what the hell happened.”
This caused her to start crying all over again. As she tried to talk between gasping sobs, Dylan had to keep asking her to repeat herself. Callie finally calmed down enough to tell her to search the internet about the latest entertainment news.
After a few moments of Dylan mumbling her disbelief as she logged into her laptop and found the recent news headlining on Yahoo, she read parts of it aloud as she quickly scanned through the article.
“How do you know that girl is even telling the truth, Callie?”
“Why would she lie? Besides, she has a ring on her fucking finger!”
“She could just be doing it for the media attention! She was a nobody before she met Vehn. Maybe she’s pissed he broke up with her. And she could have bought that ring herself. You said Vehn told you he had recently broken up with her and that she was using him for her modeling career. Why don’t you talk to him and get his side of the story? You can’t believe what you hear on the news, Callie.”
“That girl is in the hospital after she tried to kill herself with pills, Dylan! She said they were still a couple. That they were engaged! He hadn’t broken up with her!”
“She’s a liar, Callie! You need to hear his side of it.”
“I can’t talk to him yet. I don’t think I can trust anything he says. What if he was just playing me? I’m such a dumbass! Damn it, this is Michael Bass all over again!” she shrieked.