SHE REMEMBERS

“...Sub.” That one word sucked me in a vortex of fast playing memories, my jaw dropping open as I could not believe I had ruined my career, single handedly.

 Gregory had given me a look that asked what he did not voice out, are you insane? maybe I was, since I still had the alcohol induced confidence and was almost on top of him, he had leaned back all the way and my right hand that supported my weight shook, I almost collapse on him then, but he seizes my hand last minute, helping me back up, and therefore away from him.

 “Let us get you home, before you do something you regret tomorrow.” he says with a shake of his head, he hooks my arm around his neck when he was up, my legs wobble, I felt his warm hand sneak around my waist, holding me upright.

 The warmth of his hand around me causes my entire body to tingle, I press my lips together so a moan did not slip out. It has been too long since I felt a man touch me so intimately, and without a script, so I lean into him even more as he takes the back route, that was a first time for me, taking the back route I mean, I haven’t gotten shit faced drunk in a while.

 “Watch your head.” he warns, but still presses himself against me to make sure I don’t run into the wall, but to my alcohol induced mind, I feel like he was making a move.

I place my palm flat against the soft of his cotton button up, feeling his muscles underneath, they weren’t solid, but they were there, and when my fingers start to move around, explore, he catches my hand in his.

 When I look up at his expression, I wish I never did, his face twisted in disgust as he watched me, I snatch my hand back to myself, my heart slamming in place, what have I done? what did I do? why did I do that? I kept asking myself inside my head as he drove to my place in silence.

“I am your agent...” he starts, breaking the silence,

“The only agent who doubles as a manager since he isn’t scouting for other talents.” I cut him short, but I don’t look at him, the roads passing by us in a blur was interesting enough.

I hear him grit his teeth in annoyance, many people usually said this to him, this was the first time I pointed it out.

 “That is because I am willing to stake my all on you, I would rather have one that is perfect, than have a lot. So whatever it is you are thinking, I suggest you cut it by the knees.”

That was how he left me, feeling equal parts shame and anger, why did I listen to Fiefie? Why did he not want me? With those mix of emotions came bad decisions, so I pull out a bottle of whiskey I got a few years ago, there had never been a reason  to drink it, but there was no better reason than this.

 The next part is the part that ruined me, I have a secret, and a secret with that much alcohol, it was obviously going to ruin me. Everyone had a regular Tweeter account right? I did too, but everyone knows the flip side of Tweeter is the better side, for me anyway.

 My burner account was meant to be a secret, it has been that way for years, after I first discovered that you can like certain videos, retweet them, share your thoughts with an account that can never be linked back to you. I enjoyed the secrecy, I could post whatever I wanted without getting caught by anyone, with the name Your_slutx who would ever link it back to me?

 That was until, I made a grave mistake. And I did not realize that whilst the mistake was being made, the official announcement of the cast of Because she will was put up everywhere, so my tweets garnered even more attention, after all, I was supposed to be a feminist in the movie, and I had tweeted and I shamefully quote, Women were made to serve men, so which man am I supposed to be serving these titties?

 The internet was set ablaze, screenshots were taken, Gregory must have seen it after, with his access into my social media, he took down the posts, but the people who had seen it were reposting it for those who had not.

 I was blissfully unaware of this fact, the commotion I had caused by not switching accounts before I posted, I was passed out. When I woke up, the movie producers took down the cast lists, my head was banging, I had missed over twenty of Gregory’s calls, I had my head in my toilet seat for more than I would like to admit.

 I was not prepared for the slaughter I met online, people were talking, blogs had carried the screenshots, my other posts had double the number of comments they had earlier.

 “No, no, no. What the hell?” I whispered over and over, my heart beating rapidly inside of my chest, eyes wide as I understood the reality of my situation.

 Gregory was not picking up, neither was my glam team, the group texts were silent and I was the only one doing the talking for the first time in history. Fiefie would not respond to her direct messages, instead my own inbox was over flowing with hate comments and hate messages.

 When I thought it would not get worse, Gregory released a statement saying I got hacked, and it was the work of a hacker. This did even more damage, because somehow the public traced my IP address and found my burner account. And that was not going to be explained away, after all, all of my kinks, fetishes, thoughts I would never say out loud, were on there.

 I collapsed against my sofa as I watched them dig their metaphorical claws into the account, pulling up everything I ever posted.

 Gregory straight up was not responding to any of my calls, or messages, or even emails. And I sat there, for days, my fingers chewed to a nub as I watch all of my ads disappear, and even if my movies were trending, they were not doing so because I was good at it.

 On the third day, Gregory finally answered my call, but I did not know what to say, he had told me he bet his all on me, and I ruined it.

 “Miss Rachel Greene, you have been asked to take a compulsory time off, until all of this blows over.” he sounded exhausted, like he has been working non stop to compensate for my flaws.

“Are you firing me?” I ask hesitantly.

I can tell he suppressed a scoff,

 “I will contact you when we are ready to receive you with open arms, stay away from the public eye for the time being. And I didn’t think I had to tell you, but delete that damning account for fucksake.” he hissed before hanging up. I have never heard him swear before, but I could not blame him.

 Staying unemployed for me was punishment, since I did not know what to do with myself. That was not the problem, the issue was the paparazzi camping in front of my house, all of my deleted social media, I also deleted the burner, but somehow my old tweets were still floating around.

 I remain indoors for the next one week, trying to ignore social media but I end up creating other accounts, not under my name, and this time with a VPN, just to see for myself what was going on. It was horrible, I did not realize it then, but my tweets taken out of the space it was supposed to be for, made me look like an evil bitch.

 Being the topic of podcasts, and blogs for weeks was awful, but on your thirtieth birthday, it was hell, so I took the back door out of my house, dressed in a mini skirt, a crop top and heels, I go to a bar far from my house. Thinking, the worst had happened, I walked into the bar, downing shots, hoping to drown in them before I got to shot number thirty.

 That was when I saw him, he was staring at me too, but that was not the reason I stared back, it was because my stomach tumbled and I wanted him to touch me whilst keeping that smoldering hot, blue gaze on me.

 Because liquid courage helped me the first time, I find myself where he sat in a private booth.

“I like the way you are staring at me, I want you to look at me like that while you fuck me.”

Mr smoldering gaze quirks a brow at me, but he doesn’t look away from me, he never has, maybe he has seen my movies, or he was one of the trolls after me online.

 “Rachel Greene, don’t you know about stranger danger?”

The way his voice washed down my body, and my name rolled off his tongue made me want to straddle him. I haven’t felt this way forever.

 “It is my birthday, I want a birthday gift from you.”

He quirked a brow again, but doesn’t say anything, so I tell him what I want from him.

“Be my Dom for tonight.”

He smirked this time,

“How about, I be your Dom for the next Six months?”