This Is Hollywood, Darling

Chapter 7: Games

"Ben?" I splutter. "You're joking."

Rob rocks back on his heels, a sad look on his stupid face. It must have been the ex-girlfriend and he wants to protect her. Well, sorry mate, but your girlfriend is going to have to take the fall for this one because Ben would never, ever betray me like that. Ever. 

"Has he contacted you since the scandal broke?" 

Automatically, I go to say yes. But he hasn't. I've been too preoccupied thinking about Greyson and Rob and my career. I hadn't even thought about Ben. But he should have thought of me. I'm the lead in this story. The lead gets all the attention. And Ben has given me none.

Rob doesn't wait for my response. "I thought so."

"Look, that doesn't mean anything. Sometimes he forgets to check his phone. He might not have even seen anything about it." I realize how ludicrous this sounds as I'm saying it. He should have heard something by now and he should have called. 

"Lottie," he says my name very gently. "It was him. I'll email you the report if you like."

"Yes." I snap. "I would like that."

"I'm sorry Lottie." He makes to leave, picking up his pretentious jacket. I bet he'll woo some silly girl wearing that jacket tonight. I hope she has an infectious disease. Ideally, it will involve puss and green scabs. Then we'll see how good he is at picking up girls and ruining their lives. 

"It's not him," I say loudly. "He wouldn't do that."

He shrugs. "It's a dirty business. One of my oldest school friends gave a private interview with the DailyMail on how I lost my virginity. You can't trust anyone."

I shake my head. "That's not true. I've been in this business longer than you. It doesn't make us all into scumbags."

A quieter voice, deep down somewhere inside of me, whispers, "but it made a scumbag of you. You're a cheating whore now."

"No. I guess not." He shakes his head. "But then again, it makes scumbags out of a lot of us."

I don't want him to leave. I want to yell some more and he's here so he'll do. Too much has gone wrong in the last few days. I have lost my boyfriend, my job and what, now my best friend is a sellout? I'm not going to sit quietly and accept my fate. I need to twist this back in my favor. And if that doesn't work, well then I need someone to blame. Fast. 

"So, I guess we're over then." I inject just enough venom into my voice to make him flinch.

He doesn't walk towards me or make any move at all really. He just stands very still. Like we're playing statues. "Yes. I think that would be best."

He thinks I want to make an honest man out of him, even after we decided in the beginning that it would be nothing more than fooling around. He thinks I'm going to trap him. I decide to use that to my advantage. 

"I should have known."

"Excuse me?" He breaks his rock-solid composure. 

I know for a fact that Rob Holloway is kind of an asshole. Almost everyone in La La Land is aware of it. But we all turn a blind eye because we don't care. He's nice to us. But he's maybe not so nice to the girls he beds or that pretty ex of his. Rumour has it he used to give her quite a hard time. 

I wonder just how far I'd have to push him to get him to hit me. That would be a story. That would add some spice to this narrative. Maybe then I wouldn't be labeled a cheating whore.

"I should have known that you'd drop me as soon as things got complicated." I smile viciously. I've always wanted to play a conniving mistress, I guess this is my chance.

He works his jaw back and forth. "We both knew from day one that this wasn't anything serious. You told me you just wanted to have fun."

"I did." I stand up from my place on the couch. "I do."

"I don't understand."

"All I'm saying is, just because we got caught doesn't mean we can't keep going."

I move over to where he stands. Despite the fact that I look like I haven't showered in a week I feel strangely confident. Maybe it's because I'm not being me right now. I'm being someone else, the catty mean girl who gets what she wants. And she wants her career back.

I grip his belt buckle, pulling him towards me. "We were having fun, weren't we?"

"Mmm." He looks down at me, with that dumb face boys pull when they're aroused. Like they've just been injected with Ketamine or something. They go all slack-jawed and dopey-eyed and end up looking sort of zombie-like. 

"Let's keep having fun then?" I make my voice low and seductive. 

I begin undoing his belt, ever so slowly, to help build the suspense. But just as I'm about to pull it off his waist he grabs my hands. 

"Stop." 

I freeze. "Pardon?"

"You're humiliating yourself." He pushes me away and begins doing his belt up again. "I know the game you're playing. It won't work."

I play dumb. "What game?"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Right?" He laughs without humor. "God, you're pathetic. Do you really think keeping me in your bed is the way to save your career?"

My pulse spikes. What a fucking asshole. If I weren't so overwhelmed with shame I would kick the bastard straight through the teeth. 

"Yes, well you wouldn't understand what that's like now would you?" I spit. "You could murder a bloody infant and every teenage girl in America would still sing your praises."

He has the nerve to look embarrassed. Just a bit. "That's not my fault."

"Yes, it is. It is your fault. I would never have done any of this if you hadn't persuaded me. If you hadn't fucking preyed on me."

"Oh please," he points a finger at me. "You were begging for it. That first day on set, I saw the way you looked at me."

"That doesn't mean I was going to sleep with you." And it hadn't. But I couldn't help it. I'd never seen someone so attractive in the flesh. I couldn't help but admire him. "You need to get out of my apartment. Now!"

"Fine." He throws his hands up in surrender. "I never wanted to come anyway. I was trying to do something decent." 

"Decent? You think telling me my best friend is out to get me is the decent thing to do?" He begins the short walk back to the front door and I follow him, completely enraged. "The decent thing would have been to stay away from the nineteen-year-old with a boyfriend."

He turns sharply, pushing a finger into my breastbone. We're oh so very close now. I can smell his breath, he's that close to me. It's sour, like rotted lemons. 

"I didn't do anything you didn't want me to. And you're old enough to make mistakes, Lottie." He presses his face closer to mine. "And don't make out like I  ruined your relationship. You never loved Greyson, you told me so."

I shake my head violently. "Shut up. Just shut up and get out."

He steps back, into the hallway. "Like I said, I'm going."

He walks away, swinging his hips a little like he's a bloody Victoria's Secret model. 

I run back into my apartment and shove the sliding doors to my balcony open. My feet complain when they hit the freezing cold tiles. I spot him a few feet away from his car, he's pulling out his phone. I thrust myself over the balcony so that he'll hear me better.

"Hey, asshole!" He turns, a little stunned to see me. "I hope your next victim ruins your fucking life like you've ruined mine!"

Like the dignified lady I am, I flip him the bird, violently. He raises his eyebrows, but I know he'll be dying inside, probably worried someone heard and filmed it. 

Then again, that wouldn't be too great for either of us, given my current predicment.