VIVIAN
Marcus shows up at my apartment the day after my Instagram live.
I don't know how he got past security. Don't know how he has my new address. But he's standing at my door with coffee and that calculated smile.
"We need to talk," he says.
"I don't think—"
"About your career. About salvaging what's left of it." He holds up the coffee. "Peace offering?"
I let him in. Against my better judgment.
We sit on my couch. The same couch where I filmed the Instagram live that's now at 15 million views.
"That was quite a performance," Marcus says.
"It wasn't a performance. It was honesty."
"Honesty that's destroyed your reputation. Brands are dropping you. Studios are reconsidering offers. Your publicist quit."
"I know."
"And you don't care?"
"I care. But I'm not apologizing. Not lying to fix it."
Marcus sets down his coffee. Leans forward. "What if I told you we could spin this? Use the scandal to make you bigger. More famous. More valuable."
