When Regina returned home, she was furious. She was beyond angry at, him, that phony bastard that she couldn’t even bring herself to say his name. She stood leaning on the front door inside her apartment for several long minutes before she got herself together. She flung her bag at the couch and headed over to the CD player. She loaded it with several different albums and turned the volume up before sitting down on the couch. She lay her head back and closed her eyes thinking about how now she had no money, no future and nothing to look forward to. She was just another talented nothing with no chance of anything.

Although that wasn’t what hurt the most. She’d get along fine, get another crappy job, finish school and possibly work at a newspaper or something after graduating. What hurt the most was that he had accused her of sleeping with him just to get the deal. He hadn’t believed anything she told him, and she’d told him more than any one person in her life knew about her. She’d even told him about Maria, her daughter, a thought that was so painful that it physically hurt to think about.

For the first time since she was a kid did she feel anything towards another person. Plus she had never been able to just jump into bed with anyone. She’d thought about it enough, but the thought of just going to bed with anyone freaked her out. There had been something special about him, something she couldn’t put her finger on, but if she could, she knew she’d have to wash it.

Of course the first thing she had thought of was that it was just lust. Yes, he was good looking, a great body, nice eyes, he could kiss too, and the sex was nothing short of amazing. But deeper down she knew she’d been drawn to him for another reason, and not because he was a rapper or because he was Eminem. But it was now something she’d never know because she would never see him again. Now she could hate him. Now she didn’t care.

Marshall tramped back to her building and got into his car. He didn’t worry about his clothes, he had plenty of clothes and he’d send the clothes he’d borrowed, back to her as soon as he got back to the hotel. Stupid whore, just like the rest of them. Sleeping with him to see what they could get out of him, and she’d gotten the ultimate prize. Not for one second did he think that she wouldn’t show up tomorrow.

And who was she to call him phony? Who was she to tell him what he was like? She didn’t know him, fuck no! She didn’t know him at all! She never would either.

What the hell had he been thinking being with her? How the hell did he manage to get so fucking tangled in this whole mess? Why did he have to take it any farther? What had even possessed him to ask her on a date? A date, what a fucking joke! He’d given up on dating women a long time ago. He should have just stuck to the usual, a quick trip in the sack and then take off. That’s all women were good for.

The whole thing made him think of Kim. God he hated her. But he only hated her because he’d loved her so much. All the shit they had been through and then for her to fuck around, on him! Of course he had also screwed around on her, but that was before they were married. Those vows had meant something to him, not much, but something. Now there was no way in hell he would ever go that far again. No one was worth trusting, no one at all. The only lady he would have in his life was Hailie.

Thinking about Hailie made him miss her so much that when he got back to the hotel he called and talked to her for a while. At least it stopped him from thinking about Regina.

What was it about the girl that had made him go insane? Kuniva and Bizarre were right, he had gone crazy, going an buying her clothes, and sleeping with her four nights in a row, having sex three of those nights. But there had to be something about her. She didn’t take his shit, that was for sure. She was damn fine too, the best piece of ass he’d had, in, he couldn’t remember how long. She was funny, and knew what she wanted. She was humble and extremely awkward too. He could relate to that. He often felt awkward with his success and that awkwardness came out as being angry about it in his songs. She was right about that at least.

Ah fuck it, who was she to be right about anything, she wasn’t interested in him, only his money and getting a deal. Besides that he wasn’t interested in her, no fucking way in hell.

“What does it matter,” he thought to himself, “even if you were interested in her, she don’t care.”