“She hasn’t ruined anything yet. Did she make your day very unpleasant? Yes, okay. This sucks. But we’re not letting this bitch-ass bitch ruin anything. You have to talk to Sam.”

“I know. I—I don’t know how he’s going to react though. I mean, we talked about this. Specifically this. I practically begged him to keep this under wraps and then someone on my end of things blows it up to the whole universe. How am I going to explain this to him? How am I going to explain this to his family? Jesus. His grandmother!” The Pleasants were not a tabloid bunch.

“No. No. Your end nothing,” Helene cut in. “Dru didn’t have to do this. She could have been happy for you. Even if she were jealous, which she clearly fucking is, she should have taken a deep breath and let you live your life. Also if she was into Sam she would want him to be happy and if he’s happy with you—”

“Yeah, that’s not Dru. She is the misery who wants all the company. This is why I didn’t tell her you and I were friends. Can you imagine how she would have tried to use that to her advantage? You and Ignacio.”

“I can’t be bought or used,” Ignacio said with a playful scoff that made Amanda finally laugh.

“Okay. So fuck Dru,” Helene went on. “You don’t work for her anymore. She can eat all the dicks. Let’s talk full damage control. Does she have anything else she can use to hurt you? Does she have any of your things?”

“No. I purposely made myself as bland and boring in her presence as possible and you see how she reacted when things changed. Jesus,” Amanda sighed, the tears rushing back to her eyes. She took a sip of water and tried not to let the tears win. “I need to talk to Sam, like, soon, and I have to find another job. Like now.” She took her phone back and like a complete fool opened her Twitter. Even with her account locked, her mentions had exploded. She quickly scrolled and stopped when she actually saw a picture of Sam coupled with a Bossip headline.

“Oh my God. This is so bad.”

“Give me your phone.” Helene took the device and set it over on the kitchen island.

“Twitter is eating me alive. I wish I could be above all this, but I can’t.”