THE FEAR crushes me. I feel it on my chest, alive and burrowing its way inside of me. I gasp for air and spin around. Robbs lurks behind me, somewhere in the shadows. He calls my name. His throat is raw and hoarse. He calls my name again, and I scream, kicking off the ground with my heels. The world spins around me, and all I can think about is my child. I have to protect Maggie.
But Robbs comes out of the darkness. His hands are outstretched. I scream again, wildly, hoping someone will come for me. But his hands press against my back, and the world swirls in different shades of red as I connect with the stairs. I fall down them, and pain lances through me like a sharp blade.
Suddenly I stop falling. My vision goes in and out. Someone cackles over me – a sick grin twisting their face. More faces appear, laughing at me. They are clowns, I realize, as the pain makes my stomach ache brutally.
One more face appears. Robbs looms over me with a sick grin. He lets out another loud laugh and suddenly everything fades to black.
I awaken with a start, jolting upright in my bed. My fingers are wrapped up in my T-shirt, and I am panting. My entire body is covered in a cold sweat, my hair is stuck to my face. I let out a trembling breath, looking around the room in a panic, trying to remember where I am. A wild glance over at the night table shows me it is a little past three in the morning. I feel groggy and sick, as if I am going to vomit. My eyes land on chocolates on my dresser, and I remember Kathy gave them to me in an attempt to cheer me up.
Kathy. I am in Hollywood. I remember everything in quick flashing images. Moving to Hollywood to try my luck at acting. Meeting Jon and Rich and quickly becoming torn between the two of them. Jon and Kathy dating. Rich and I sleeping together. Losing out on a part in a soap opera only to find out that Kathy landed one. Jon calling me in to tell me he had received a sex tape from Robbs.
I shut my eyes tightly. I have been trying so hard to move on from my past. The terrible things that I have done to people, like Kiara and Paul. I remember how I used my pregnancy to get what I wanted out of them. I was a terrible person. Since Robbs pushed me down the stairs, I have been trying to be on the straight and narrow. Coming to terms with the fact I had suffered at the hands of an emotional and physical relationship is not easy. Yet it is even harder when that person returns to torment you.
I get out of bed, padding my way toward the bathroom. Kathy is fast asleep on the other side of our small apartment, which we’ve nicknamed “The Dollhouse”. Her first day of shooting on the soap set is in the morning. A part of me wishes it was me who was heading to the studio, but it would have meant having to sleep with Rich for the part.
I step inside the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, trying to forget the nightmare. It is the same thing every night – the same terrible dream, a strange mix of memory and twisted horror movie imagery – that has kept me exhausted and out of sorts the past week. I look at myself in the mirror. The moon casts a shadow along the bathroom, making my features look haggard.
A week ago, Robbs returned to my life. The asshole had sent Jon a sex tape. He hadn’t said anything to Jon, just sent the tape. But as soon as I looked over and saw a scene from it, briefly, in the privacy of my bedroom after Jon sent me the email, I threw up. The sight of Paul and I entangled together was too much to bear. The threat is clear – I have this tape. I can ruin you at any moment. You thought you escaped but you will always be under my thumb.
Robbs and I had been so pleased with the plan originally. It was the perfect way to set-up Paul and put Kiara in her place. I had detested her for so long. It clouded my judgement. But now that lapse in judgement was coming back to bite me in the ass, big time.
I splash more water on my face to keep a panic attack from blooming. I have been locked up in my room the past week. Finally, Kathy asked what was going on and I told her. She knows about Robbs and filling in the blanks is easier than telling Jon the entire story. How do I tell him that I slept with Paul in a scheme to get back at Kiara? Why don’t you just paint Terrible Person on my head and be done with it? My feelings for Jon are so strong that if he decides not to speak to me anymore or drop me as a client, I would be heartbroken.
I turn off the faucet and sit down on the bathroom floor. The tiles are icy cold, and I draw my knees to my chest, closing my eyes. My past will forever haunt me. I could move anywhere in the world, and Robbs would be there, looming over me, a horrifying specter of my past.
I feel frozen, unsure how to plan out my next move. Rich had even called me yesterday although I can’t fathom why. Last time we hung out, he told me I had to sleep with him again for a soap opera part, and I told him to fuck off. Part of me couldn’t face Jon. I was unsure what to say to him or how to act around him. As my agent, he would want to discuss the tape. As a possible love interest, he would want to know more about the tape. It was a lose-lose situation.
I make my way back to bed. I tell myself I will call Rich in the morning. At least I won’t have to explain anything to him. And if he is an asshole, then perhaps letting out my pent-up aggression on him might serve me well.