Lancaster's Women

Scene I:  London, England - home of Lady Stephanie Erin Dynasty-Lancaster - Tuesday, November 4, 2003

I hate this.

I hate this so much.

What the hell is wrong with me.

Why am I feeling this way.

Why should I care.

What does it matter.

But I do care.

God...

And I can't sleep.

I just can't sleep.

I cannot erase that image from my mind.

Of him.  That bastard.  I loathe him so much.  That son of a bitch, that cheating, drunken fucker who could control his dick as much as he could his cheque book.

But not just him.

Of her.

Marissah Extremewhoreavich.  On my husband's - ex-husband's - arm.

I wonder if she's pregnant yet.

What does he think he's doing.  

He's neglecting Edward to be with her.

Yes.  That is it.  He's neglecting Edward.  I hate them for this reason.

I don't care about him.

He is the object of my scorn, and my hatred.  And my wrath.

And I will destroy him.  

If he thinks that plastering his face and name across the British tabloids and getting him in shit with the Royals was hell.

He's not prepared for...

I wish I could sleep...


Scene II:  Lower Manhattan, New York City, New York - Ulysses'  - Wednesday, November 12, 2003

"Marissah, over here."

There was Aryanna, one of my closet friends, and confidantes.  I agreed to stop in at Ulysses' quickly to have a drink with her before going out for dinner with Robert.  She seemed to be dressed head-to-foot in Holt-Renfrew.  Not bad, but definitely not up to par with the things Robert's been buying for me.

Anything I need, anything I want...and he forks out the cash.  He's such a sweetie.

I sheepisly grinned as I sat down, eyeing her outfit again.  She still had last years' Luis Vuitton bag.

"How are you babe, you look fabulous."

"Thanks...is that LV's new bag?  How'd you get it already," she queried.  "I thought it was only out in Europe."

I rolled my eyes as I showed it to her.  "My sweetie got it for me, had it brought over from Paris before it was even released."

She ooooh'ed.  "So the rumours are trueeeee.  I've heard people talking about some posh Englishman moving here to NYC. He's an aristocrat isn't he."

How could I not beam.

"Of course...you almost seem surprised that I'd be able to land someone of that caliber."

The waiter came over.  We ordered a glass of wine each and continued our girl talk.

"Well no...but I hope the poor bastard knows what he's getting into.  Doesn't he know about..."

I laughed.  "He'll find out soon enough.  For now I'm just going to enjoy it."

The wine came.  

Aryanna took a deep breath.  "Marissah...this could come all crashing down on you."

I took a long sip from my wine and crossed my legs.  I looked over my shoulder and saw a couple of good looking guys dressed impeccably eyeing our table.  I pursed my lips and smiled slyly at them before turning back to Aryanna.

"Bullshit...I know what I'm doing."

My phone rang.  It was Robert.  

"Oooh...it's him.  Hold on."

Aryanna rolled her eyes as I grinned.

"Heyyyyyyy sweetie.  Yes I'm almost there...I know you miss me...I miss you tooooo.  Kisses."

I hung up.  She just stared at me.

"Oh don't be a jealous bitch," I joked.  "Take care babe, I'll call you later."

I pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the table.  I stood up and kissed her on the cheek

As I walked out I glanced at the two guys sitting near by.  I smirked again.

"Fuck you..."

I heard them swear under their breaths, calling me "whore" and "skank."  Those dumb fuckers.  I had no pity for them.  

Although...

I thought of Robert as I exited the bar.

He's not prepared for...


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