Have We Met? (Remington Leith)

Plastic Bitch

"Why Ronnie," Chrissa asked and I felt the immediate sadness rush over me and my smile falter.

I quickly fixed it and took in a deep breath. "My dad used to call me that and I want people to call me that because it reminds me of the good memories I have of him," I said, my mind on my dad now.

"Aww, what happened to him," Chrissa asked, fake sadness in her voice as she clung to Remington's side.

"He died of lung cancer," I explained, feeling a tear slip. I quickly wiped it away and walked over to Mason, who was chatting up the directors assistant. Today's going to be a long day.

***********

After a while of filming and dealing with the highly annoying Chrissa it was time for lunch. I landed the drone after detaching the camera then went over to the boys, who had just gotten out of the car.

The spikes that are usually in Remington's hair had disappeared and it was pretty cute. "Eric said it's lunch time," I informed them and they nodded. I made my way to the picnic tables they had set up and got my small Ziploc bag full of canalope.

I mentally groaned as I watched Chrissa cling back to Remington's side. She was being all lovey dovey and it seemed like he wasn't having any of it, which was quite funny.

She seemed to give up on him and spotted me, a look of judgment and hatred on her face. She started making her way over to me and sat down in front of me. "You need to fucking stop," she practically growled in my face.

"Stop what," I asked, seriously confused.

"Don't play dumb, I see the way you try to flirt with him. You're trying to brainwash him into leaving me. He's already liked most of your Instagram pictures," she busted, confusing the hell out of me. "And when he first got here, he was heading straight for you, it pisses me off. So back the hell off of my boyfriend."

I couldn't help but laugh at how stupid she sounded. "I'm sorry that he is liking pictures that aren't selfies of you, and I'm sorry that it seems as if I'm flirting with him, I'm not," I started, still finding the hole situation amusing. "I will admit that he is freaking hot as fuck, but I'm not trying to take him from you."

"Whatever, you're just the bony camera girl. Gain some weight paper bag," she said, pissing me off.

"Okay bitch," I raised my voice, standing up. "I've tried so fucking hard to loose weight because I was called fat. I tried so hard that I stopped eating and it got so bad that I couldn't live alone, now I got your dumbass trying to tell me I'm underweight. I'm sorry that people like me intrude on the perfect weight people's lives. I'm just trying to live my fucking life," I said, gaining attention from everyone else.

"That sounds like a personal problem to me," Chrissa said, standing up as well.

"Then why the hell did you decide to barge in on my personal life if you didn't want to help me," I said, my voice deepening. "Do you want to give me your plastic surgeon's number," I asked, and her face went red with anger.

Next thing I knew, her hand went across my face, and that was all I needed. I through myself over the picnic table, tackling Chrissa to the ground. I strattled the model and started punching her plastic face until I was ripped off of her.

"Calm down Veronica, it wouldn't be a fair fight for her. You don't want to kill her," the somewhat soothing voice of my roommate said into my ear, but I just couldn't calm down.

Remington picked Chrissa up off the ground, and looked at the girls crying and bleeding face with a mix of concern and horror. He didn't say anything to make her stop crying though, he just stared at her.

"Thank you," Emerson whispered as he walked past me to do the thing Remington was supposed to be doing. He and Sebastian led Chrissa over to the directors tent and got some ice for her face, leaving Remington standing there.

Debrah finally let me go and I sat back down at the picnic table, Mason and Debrah joining me. I'm probably getting kicked off of this project.

Remington sat down in front of me with a complicated look on his face.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to tackle your girlfriend. She just hit a sore spot for me," I apologized.

"Don't apopologize. In fact, thank you. You helped show me her true colors. She's always just been super clingy, I've never seen her act like such a bitch," he thanked me, and I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"You're...welcome," I said, unsure of myself.

"Now I have more than one reason to break up with her," he said with a shrug.

Okay, I am extremely confused.

What a bitch, am I right or am I right? Anyway, enjoy another update, I've got loads of ideas for this book.