"You're a joke, you know that?" Corbin exasperated, throwing his hand in the air. He turned his head slightly to look Mia in the eyes, who was returning his vicious glare with temperate eyes.
"What are you going to do, Corbin?" Mia said in an obnoxiously cushioned tone. She shrugged her shoulder meticulously and gave him a side glance. "Do you know what I could do to you, and fucking - what's her name? Beatrice - a terrible name, by the way. You can't even handle me in bed, much less when I'm angry."
Mia scoffed as she said that last sentence, mainly because it was true and the reason as to why she hadn't had pleasurable sex in many, many months. When they did, it was her lying limply while Corbin inserted himself for a short time, until he was finished. Then he would leave Mia as if she were nothing more than a sex toy, lying on the bed. She hated it when he did that, not because she felt used, but because she regretted allowing him the satisfaction. It was those small 'victories' that made Corbin feel dominant, sexy, perhaps even godly, while Mia was more than resentful of being so submissive towards him.
Corbin could've exploded when Mia called him out. He whipped around quicker than she could blink, and in a moment, his hand was across her polished face so forcefully that it made a noise so loud it echoed throughout the entire house.
A moment of silence passed between the two. Mia's chin was still turned to the left, her eyes at the ground and her hair hung limp over her face. Corbin realized what he'd just done, and took a few steps back slowly.
"I'm sorry, but you're crazy, you know that, Mia? You need help!" he accused. His back nearly hit the wall, so his backing came to a halt. "L-look at you, you're fucking drunk and barred out! Your god damn heart is going to stop one day. Now you're accusing me of cheating, too. You are so fucking -"
Without a single response to his blatant disrespect and fear, Mia forced him against the wall of the narrow hallway with her forearm. He merely grunted, and wanted to yell, but refrained from doing so for the sake of his own masculinity, even in the face of death. It would've been pathetic to Mia, had she been paying enough attention to him. At this point, she was so pent up with annoyance that she felt herself slip away and just wanted to see his brains splattered against the walls. She quickly and anxiously pulled a handgun out from the decorative desk that was besides the two and held it against his head. Her hand was shaking slightly, and her jaw was clenched tight.
Corbin could barely speak without his voice shaking. "Y-you wouldn't do it. You know I love you-"
"Shut the hell up, Corbin! For once!" Mia looked deep into his sea-colored eyes. Corbin didn't dare resist upon seeing her like this, so he simply eyed her quietly and prayed that she would find mercy in his poor, poor soul. He'd never seen her this angered.
"You-" Mia dropped her arm and let her gun hang low, but it was still tight in her grip. She circled for a moment while Corbin stood there, shocked and at a loss for words. Mia pointed the gun at his head for a split second.
"You ass! You fucking dickhead. She is so fucking dead, Corbin! You really fucked up this time!" she blurted out, not even thinking about the words that were being shouted from her lips. She headed towards the door, her dress swaying as she strided and her hair bouncing on her shoulders.
Corbin could only watch her grab her bag and slam the door behind her helplessly, throwing his hands on his head and cussing beneath his breath. He would've chased after her, had she not been armed and dangerous - not the had to have a gun to be dangerous, but Corbin didn't see it that way. He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Beatrice's number.
She picked up after one ring, which was expected. Corbin's voice was still shaking.
"Mia's crazy ass is headed towards your house, babe! I'm so sorry, I tried to stop her but she pulled a fucking gun on me," he put his hand against the wall. "I know! I told you, she's fucking crazy," he spoke in a near whisper and shot cautious glance around just to be sure Mia wasn't listening. "Look, you need to leave, though. Get the hell out of there before she finds your place. I don't know how she even know where you live, or if she does, but she has a god damn gun. Who knows what that bipolar bitch will do."
Corbin was ready to hang up after he did what he felt was 'his part'. He wanted nothing more than to pack his things and leave, not even considering that he had no money or job of his own. He'd done this many times - left just to come back a week later, forgetting that he had none of his own cash for the drugs he felt he needed. He would kiss up to Mia, who took him back every time out of respect for her contract.
"Will I - what? Will I come get you?" Corbin almost laughed as he repeated Beatrice's pleading words. "No, nope. Sorry, babe you're on your own. I got my own shit to take of. I warned you, sweet cheeks."
He then hung up the phone and proceeded to throw it down the hall, watching it hit the wall and shatter into pieces.
. . .
Mia sped through the curved and narrow roads of Vinewood Hills like a professional Nascar driver, swerving around garbage cans and parked cars as if her Martin One-77's black tires were made of butter. Her windows were rolled up and within the car was a thick cloud of skunk-smelling smoke that leaked from the cherry of the joint she was smoking. She would take a puff, then hold it for as long as she could. She could barely see through the thick smoke, but somehow managed to miraculously not crash into any stray objects. The KB bud she was smoking (which she got from her long-time friend, Eddie Towe), was so strong it would knock any teenage kid off their feet and send them into a panic attack. Mia had a high tolerance, though. She barely felt the heaviness of her lids or the redness of her eyes because she was so engulfed with rage as well - not that you tell by looking at her.
No, her gorgeous face that seemed to come straight from a 60's novel about romance and murder was rarely ever a representative of her emotions. Her heavy lashes hung low, but just enough to where you could look into her cognac-colored eyes and, if you looked hard enough, could see her true mental state. They were the seductive type, however, and many people found it hard to look passed that. Her winged eyeliner, thick hair and round, yet athletic, figure were enough to send average men over a cliff.
This didn't phase Beatrice, though, who was looking over her balcony cautiously when Mia's car came to a stop below her house. Beatrice showed no fear, and was ready to face Mia - or at least she thought she was.
"Oh, what a gorgeous house you have here," Mia assured her, just loud enough for Beatrice to hear. "Too bad it's going to be just about as fucked as you are when I'm done with it!" her tone changed mid-sentence to that of an angry swan, if one could speak.
Mia proceeded to pull a few, small explosives from the trunk of her car - they were hidden beneath a false bottom, of course - and gracefully stuck them onto the support beams that held up the beautiful house's balcony over the cliff. Beatrice looked on for only a few moments, before her instincts kicked in.
"Corbin was right about you!" she said, her voice cracking. "You're a psycho!" she yelled as she ran towards the padio door. Conveniently for Mia, Beatrice had locked herself out. The only way out at that point was to scale the mountain-side.
Mia simply looked on as she continued sticking the explosives on, her harmonious expression not at all matching her current state-of-mind. After she finished placing the last of the bombs, she held within her manicured hands a small device with a little latch on the side.
Mia was too busy sliding into the front seat of her car and slamming the door shut to notice Beatrice half falling, half stumbling down the hill and to safety. Mia's engine revved up, and once her car was down the hill a few moments later, she deactivated the bombs without a second thought.
There was a giant crashing noise that could've shaken the Earth itself, and the house came tumbling down the mountain-side. Huge slabs of concrete and glass nearly crushed the tiny, frantic Beatrice below. However, she survived the demolishing of her house, and was there at the end to walk upon the debris of what was once a $1.4 million dollar house. She was covered in minor scrapes and bruises, but would live.
Mia slid out of her car and walked up the road to where Beatrice was kneeling down upon the debris with her face buried in her palms, weeping.
"You're so lucky, and so blessed, that I didn't shoot you, Beatrice," Mia bellowed, looking like a fierce lioness. "You're too cute to be shot, though. Have a good day, darling!" she said this as she turned and headed back down the hill, where her $900,000 car awaited her. Mia fixed her hair and situated her breasts beneath her dress before slamming the car door shut and speeding off in the opposite direction.
