This really wasn’t the start she wanted to the day of her big premiere. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She felt a chill creep up her spine and flopped back down to her pillow trying to gather her thoughts. The blonde couldn’t quite identify what it was…but she had a feeling something big and bad was going to happen.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Giles was hovering over her like a crazed mother hen. Of course he wanted the premiere to go perfectly for her. He spent the day schooling her in the responses she should give to the press in every eventuality. She already knew all of it but humored him because it made her life a little less traumatic than if she tried to explain that she already knew.
As soon as she was ready to rumble, Giles bundled her into the limousine and climbed in behind her. He was attired in a smart suit himself and looked quite the part. She supposed in some ways he was her surrogate date for the night, like a proud father who dances with his teenage daughter at a wedding when none of the boys ask her to take a twirl with them.
And didn’t she just feel like an absolute reject with that analogy?
“Are you quite alright, my dear?” the older Brit asked her as she stared out of the darkened car window.
“Hmm?” She turned to face him vacantly before shaking herself out of her mind freeze. “Oh yeah, I’m totally making with the fine.”
“I’m going to interpret that as a ‘yes’,” Giles said with a slight upward quirk of his lips. “However, I’m also going to refrain from believing you.”
“Giles, please don’t start,” she begged tiredly. During the past few months her manager had been constantly fretting about her mental state. He seemed to believe she was on the verge of a complete meltdown or something. However, she was clearly fine in her own mind.
Why couldn’t he see that?
“I’m not starting, Buffy. I just don’t want to see anything bad happen to you and I’m concerned.” He pulled his glasses off his face and began polishing them frantically. “Do you think I haven’t noticed how you’re barely interested in anything anymore? It seems that you spend half your time as a dead woman walking.”
“That’s not your business,” she spit back coldly, pinning him with a glare.
Giles straightened up, startled at her hostile words. She rarely talked to him in that way. However, he wouldn’t be deterred. “You are my business Buffy. I think we need to look into getting you help.”
“Help?” Her eyes bugged out of their sockets. “Like a head shrink?”
“I know of a wonderful psychologist…”
Her brow knitted into a severe frown. “No way, Giles. N-O. Not gonna happen in this lifetime or any other.”
“I merely would ask you to consider it.”
“Gee, heard, considered, rejected.” She rolled her eyes. “And do you really think that this is the time to bring it up.”
Giles acquiesced to her point. “Well I suppose perhaps not…”
“Right. Exactly. It’s not.” She sat back in her seat and leaned her head back against the cool leather. “Let’s just do the not talking thing right now.”
As they sat in silence, Buffy felt the initial twinges of guilt creep up on her for the way she’d talked to Giles. In all honesty she hadn’t meant to be so harsh but the thought of seeing a psychiatrist was terrifying to her. When she was fourteen a near-breakdown had landed her in an institution for almost a month. That hellish month had been one of the worst of her life. It was all about sharing her feelings with a bunch of other rich kids.
When she was released from that place she vowed that she would never go back to anywhere like it again. Even if she was hanging on by a thread. She’d just have to ensure that was one damn thick thread.
When she finally arrived at the premiere she was a bag of nerves and she was sporting a major headache. Sure, she looked sexy as hell clad in a long silk off the shoulder red gown but she felt like a dog’s leftover dinner. Her feet were already aching from the impossibly high heels that they were shoved into. Her false eyelashes were making her eyes dry and itchy and the heavy diamond jewelry around her neck and wrists was weighing her down. All in all looking good seemed to come at a painful price.
But then again, every image that she projected came at a price in one way or another.
Nevertheless she climbed out of the limo with a Barbie Doll smile plastered on her face and play acted for the crowds. They ate up her act like Mr. Doo devoured Scooby snacks. The reporters were similarly impressed by the young actress, snapping her picture to post in every magazine and internet site around the world.
They all loved her so much.
Once again Buffy felt the pressure weighing down on her shoulders. She felt like a modern day Atlas, only female obviously, and she also considered herself way hotter. She shouldered the pressure of the people and the press to be their pin up girl. Inside she felt another fissure form in her composure, even though she kept it totally together on the outside.
The cold, hard truth was that standing on the red carpet outside the ArcLight, waiting to watch the premiere of her newest movie should have been euphoric for Buffy. And yet there was something flat about it, like week old cola left out in the sun. She was lonely and jaded about this life and sometimes she wondered why she even bothered with it anymore.
It was so…predictable.
Buffy glanced at some of the other stars lingering for the cameras too. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cordelia Chase posing for some foreign reporter. The busty brunette had lost out on a part on ‘Beating Heart, Bloodied Soul’, which had left the other woman a little pissed off. Buffy was actually surprised she showed up to the premiere. Apparently she wasn’t prepared to miss the chance at a little exposure while riding on someone else’s coattails.
Buffy also noticed Riley Finn as he disappeared inside. A shudder wracked through her at the thought of having to endure any kind of contact with him. She had a feeling she’d see him at the after party but maybe the Powers that Be would be kind to her and spare her that ordeal.
Although she was Buffy Summers…and that kind of luck never happened to go her way.
++++++++++
As it happened the premiere itself went exceptionally well. The people leaving the theater seemed to be raving about the movie from the overheard snippets that Buffy managed to catch. Giles, her biggest fan and biggest critic, also loved it. He’d been on set for most of the filming but he couldn’t get over how wonderfully she came across in the polished version.
“That could be an Oscar nomination for you, Buffy,” he said as they climbed into the limo together. He was hoping she’d gotten over her earlier snit and the smile she flashed him proved she was in a better mood now.
“An Oscar?” she asked delightedly. “You really think so?”
“I really do. You interpreted your character so well. You really outdid yourself with this performance.”
Buffy shut her eyes and let his kind words warm her soul.
However, as the limousine hummed along on the way to the after party, the warmth started to dissipate. And when she finally stepped inside the after party venue she realized just how much she’d been dreading this damn party. These days she wasn’t into the whole ‘celebrity scene.’ Not that she ever had been into it, but once she hit twenty one being able to drink lost a little of its shine.
Except in cases of extreme depression and look where that led to.
As she contemplated exactly where such a path had ended up in the past, Buffy briefly wondered if Spike would be there. However, she immediately dismissed the idea. Not only was he not a big enough star to be invited to an after party like this one but he also very likely never wanted to see her again.
Not that she wanted to see him. In fact seeing him was just about the last thing she wanted to do after having spent the past few weeks trying not to think about him.
Except that was all of a bunch of self-deceptive lies, and Spike had actually been on her mind a lot. The more she tried not to think about him, the more she fixated on the man. He was like a damn drug and he haunted her with periodic cravings for him. Sometimes she would even get the urge to verbally spar with him.
She was sick, insane and mentally addicted to someone who would always be bad for her.
Before she could think anymore about it, a large, looming figure stepped in front of her.
“Riley,” she said coldly as she stared up at the blank face of her sandy-haired ex boyfriend.
“Buffy,” he replied, heaping on the fake joviality like syrup on burnt pancakes. “I missed talking to you at the premiere.”
“Now isn’t that the kind of shame that’s not,” came her cutting retort. She wished he would just go away and leave her alone.
However apparently Mr. Finn wasn’t quite finished yet.
He took a casual sip of his drink and leaned against the wall next to her. “Here alone are you?”
“I’m trying to be,” she bit back.
“I suppose the men of the world took my advice,” he continued, unperturbed. “They’re staying away from you. They don’t want to waste their time on a cold fish.”
“I doubt that, Riley,” she said, forcing a laugh through her pursed lips. “No sane man would listen to the bitter ravings of a scorned ex. So you’re fresh outta luck.”
“You think I sold my story because I was bitter about our breakup?” he laughed derisively, making sure that the nearby partygoers were picking up every word of their overly public discussion.
“No, I think you sold it because you’re an asshole,” she muttered in reply, garnering several gasps from the spectators.
“If it’s a choice between being an asshole and a frigid bitch, I know which I’d choose.”
And at that moment the smugness was wiped right off of Riley’s face as he went sailing to the ground.
When Spike walked in to the after party, he was immediately underwhelmed. The place was full of cotton candy people living their vanilla lives. It made him want to heave. Strains of 50 cent echoed through the venue, making Spike’s ears itch. Whatever happened to good ole punk music? These people clearly had no taste at all.
None of it mattered of course because he was here for one reason and one reason only.
Buffy.
This was the part where he had to put his slightly tipsy plan into action. Unfortunately, his plan only consisted of donning a suit and showing up to this lame after party. Mostly because he’d ended up passing out drunk before he managed to get past that stage. Anyway, he was sure it would all be fine and he was planning to wing it from here on in.
That couldn’t be too hard, right?
Deciding to forego a drink, even though he was in staunch need of some Dutch courage, he figured it would be better to keep a clear head. Anyway, Buffy didn’t really like drinking under normal circumstances so it would surely chalk up another check in the plus column if he demonstrated his soberness.
He sauntered farther inside, searching for her in the dim lights. When he caught sight of her, his blood ran hot and cold at the same time.
He’d never thought such a feat was possible until now. Of course, around Buffy anything was possible. The heat that warmed his blood was from the mere sight of her. She looked radiant decked out in the most beautiful blood red dress he’d ever seen. Aside from the fact that red was one of his favorite colors, the material of the dress hugged her subtle curves like a second skin. He’d never desired her as much as he did in that moment.
Unfortunately his euphoria was dampened by the fact that she was talking to that obnoxious bastard, Riley Finn. Spike had never gotten to meet the man personally before but he could gauge that the bulky male was an idiot even from a distance. Add to that the fact that Spike had witnessed how his cruel words had shredded Buffy’s heart and all in all Finn had generated a lot of Spike-hate already.
“Not that you’re any better than him,” Spike muttered to himself.
Except that Spike was better because he was trying to make amends for his past misdeeds. And from the look on Buffy’s face, her ex boyfriend was interested in anything but amends. Her face was flushed red and her chest was heaving in anger.
Spike managed to wheedle his way closer to the argument. He wanted to hear just what was going on. He was hoping that Buffy was tearing the idiot a new one and he prayed that it was as painful as possible for the buffoon who cheated on her and then betrayed her. When he got close enough, Spike was able to hear the tail end of the former lovers’ conversation.
“You think I sold my story because I was bitter about our breakup?” Spike heard Riley say. The American man followed it up with a nasty mocking laugh that provoked Spike’s hackles to rise. Finn was glaring down superciliously at her. Apparently the idiot had a little nasty fight left in him.
“No, I think you sold it because you’re an asshole,” Buffy mumbled in reply. It was a loud enough comment to reach Spike’s ears though and he silently cheered her on.
“Go on, pet!” he hissed under his own breath.
“If it’s a choice between being an asshole and a frigid bitch, I know which I’d choose.” Riley’s expression was making Spike angrier by the moment.
God, Spike wanted to crush that farm boy’s smug mug like a bug.
And that was exactly what he was going to do!
“Sod the plan,” he muttered, marching forward. “Maturity and restraint are overrated anyway.”
Pushing Buffy out of the way, he grabbed a stunned Riley Finn by the collar of his shirt and smirked coldly. “You really should learn how to respect a woman, you raging ponce!” he yelled, slamming his clenched fist into Riley’s smug face.
Buffy cried out in shock and a whole hoard of stunned onlookers chorused their own gasps of surprise as they realized what had just happened.
The larger man stumbled backward and tumbled to the ground with a pained shriek. “Argh! My beautiful face!” He glared up at the smaller blond. “I’ll have your ass for this!” he vowed to Spike.
“What the hell are you doing, Spike?” Buffy said, seemingly regaining the use of her voice. She’d stood impotently by as she watched Spike storm in like an insane white knight and punch her former lover in the face.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Spike said, ignoring her question. He didn’t think he needed to dignify it with an answer.
“Welcome? Are you kidding?” Her lips were pulled back as she bared her teeth angrily at him. He didn’t see what the problem was. The boy had been disrespecting her and if there was one thing his mother had always instilled in him, it was that a good woman was supposed to be respected.
Spike turned away, unable to look at her furious expression, and cupped his injured hand, shaking it to try and purge the agony from his bones. At least Riley was looking even worse for wear, lying sprawled on the ground with a hand clasped to his face.
However, Buffy forced herself not to have any sympathy for Spike or his hand. She told herself that it made no difference that he’d just been defending her. Sure, he’d stood up in front of everyone and defended her honor, even as Riley tried to malign her but she didn’t want someone else to baby her. The deeply repressed part of her that did care for him felt bad but it wasn’t his place to step in for her.
The jagged crack in her mind deepened.
It didn’t even occur to her that the reason she was so mad at him was because she felt a glimmer of warmth develop for him inside of her chest. She couldn’t allow herself to soften toward him or all would be lost.
She would be lost.
Gathering her wits, she huffed out a breath. “Have you gone totally insane?!” she yelled at Spike, uncaring of the bystanders. “You can’t just go around punching people.”
Her eyes darted over to where Riley Finn was being helped away by some of his friends and his date for the night. His hands were still clutched to his broken nose giving Spike a little trill of satisfaction.
“Why not?” he asked her with a petulant pout firmly fixed on his face. “He was being a bloody arsehole to you, and it’s not as if you’ve never done it, love. You tried to bloody well lay me out a time or two.”
“That was different!” she seethed.
“Always soddin’ well is different when it’s you though. Golden girl like you never has to face up to the consequences of your actions.”
His words stung and she flinched at the implication. She knew that he was no longer just talking about punching Riley. The conversation had subtly shifted to recriminations against her for hurting him during the past few months.
“What consequences? And what actions? You don’t make any sense, Captain Peroxide,” she said defensively.
“You really want me to be specific?” he asked quietly, the twinkle in his eyes telling her that she definitely didn’t want him to be specific about in front of the straggling bystanders.
“No,” she retorted sadly, understanding what he was talking about. “But there are things I do when I’m drunk that are…mistakes. I can’t be responsible for those.”
“Do you even hear yourself, woman?” Spike was flushing a worrying shade of purple as he talked. “You can’t be responsible? You’re not a child, Buffy. And you’re not a Princess.”
Buffy pouted. “I know that.” She sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling as the tension of the evening threatened to come crashing down on her. “But that’s the way it is. I know what you want from me but I can’t make myself feel something that I don’t.”
She felt the forced mendacity prickle at her conscience but ignored it. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t gotten used to ignoring her feelings.
“You really don’t feel anything good for me?” Spike said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “Tell me if that’s the case, Buffy and I’ll leave you be.”
Buffy’s eyes flickered up to meet Spike’s and she was stunned by the coldness of his gaze. Until that moment, she’d never realized how intense and warm his eyes usually were when she looked into them. But now that warmth had been drained and it was physically painful to look at him.
At that second, facing this hostile version of Spike, she realized that her feelings for him had drastically changed since their paths had first re-crossed on the set of Murder Most Strange. Whereas she wouldn’t have even cared before, now it stabbed at her heart to think that his feelings for her could disappear.
But what did she actually feel for him?
She wished she could untangle those complex emotions. Every positive thing that she felt toward him was still balled up in her unresolved pain from six years ago.
Clearing her throat, Buffy opened her mouth to speak. “I can’t tell you that I don’t feel anything good toward you, Spike,” she said slowly. “That would just be a lie. Because I do…care for you. But…”
Her words were gobbled up by the mists of time as another voice interrupted her.
“Mr. Spike Pryce?” a uniformed police officer asked sternly, sidling up to the couple like a caricature of some 1980s police show bad-cop.
Spike nodded. “Who wants to know?”
“LAPD,” the tall, well build officer said with no more preamble. His square cut jaw was set harshly as he studied Spike. There was a flicker of distaste in his eyes as he looked at the couple. Buffy figured it was just the look on his face rather than a personal grudge though. “I’m afraid you’re under arrest for assault.”
“Bloody hell!” Spike swore, lifting his eyes heavenward. That little dickwad, Finn, had called the damn cops on him! Spike couldn’t help but think that the other man was a gutless ponce that couldn’t handle his business like a man. Instead he’d run to the authorities to handle it for him. Even worse he was pissed that the stupid cop had interrupted him and Buffy at one of the most crucial moments of their relationship.
“You’re going to have to come with us, Sir,” the officer said, his voice still as harsh as ever. He glanced over his shoulder to his shorter, chubbier partner who was looking incredibly bored already. “We have some questions to ask you.”
The cop gripped Spike’s arm tightly and started to drag him away, causing Spike to pull back. “Don’t touch me, you bloody git! I can walk on my own.”
Apparently this was one of those ‘no nonsense’ cops though, and he slapped the cuffs on Spike before the bleached blond even had time to protest. Buffy watched in shock as he was hauled away, yelling obscenities that turned the air blue.
She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Spike had crashed her after party and punched Riley. What the hell was he thinking? Sure, Riley had been acting like a major asshole but didn’t Spike realize that she was capable of defending herself? She wasn’t some damseling idiot who needed a man to jump to her defense.
The girly part of her that still dreamed of white knights did appreciate his wildly romantic gesture, but Buffy told that annoying, childish voice to shut up. She didn’t want to listen to it whether it was correct or not.
Stupid chivalrous man, stepping up to her defense and being all sweet and heroic. Things like that just didn’t happen to Buffy Summers so she couldn’t trust it anyway.
Not to mention the fact that if anyone should have been punching Riley it was her.
There was little hope that this wouldn’t be all over the news by the morning, no doubt exaggerated to mammoth proportions. Thoughts of what sensational story the media might concoct chilled her to the bone. She could see it now: “Buffy Summers carrying porn star’s love child in debauched threesome with ex.”
And that’s when it all became too much for her.
The years in the limelight, under constant scrutiny by the press, the instances of heartbreak from men and the thought that her life was spinning out of control all slammed into her simultaneously like a derailing train.
Buffy slumped to the ground, her head falling to her knees. The world was spinning around her, falling in on the young actress. The air suddenly seemed thinner, as if all the oxygen had been sucked right out of it. She was barely aware of someone calling her name but she couldn’t register it. It was as if she was hearing the voice from underwater. She felt the tears start to fall and wondered if the pained wail that she could hear was coming from her own mouth.
Her life was a mess. This world was too harsh, cold, and painful.
And she just wasn’t sure she could manage to live in it anymore.