She didn't have a filter. That was the easiest explanation for her *interesting* comments and her frank talk about her relationships. She would be loud, then silent, then screaming, but every ounce of her was lovable. From her beautiful body to her dozens of quotes, she was the ends of the spectrum. You could only love her or hate her.
Louis hated her. Francis hated her. Piper hated her. But Vivian? Vivian Smith loved her with all of her heart, and Vivian knew that she loved her right back.
There was a 'but'.
There was always a 'but'.
She had a boyfriend. A committed relationship. An engagement ring. Vivian knew that she wasn't happy with her life. She just knew it. She needed something to spice up her life, and Vivian planned on being that something.
So Vivian did what any other sane person in her situation would do.
She called the cops to report a domestic disturbance.
Vivian knew that there were bruises all over her body. Of course, there were. What else would you expect from a girl that got in and out of street fights with her mouth and her fists?
Vivian knew that she would be crying herself to sleep. Of course, she was. What else would you expect from a person reading Romeo and Juliet?
Vivian knew that she wouldn't be sleeping anywhere near her boyfriend. Of course, she wasn't. What else would you expect from a couple saving themselves for marriage?
But the police wouldn't know what to expect. They wouldn't know her as Vivian did. They never knew anything. She was too smart and charming and confident and slick to get put in custody, even though she could get out. Even when she showed up bruised and sore and cranky.
And their willful ignorance would be oh-so-helpful to Vivian.
After all, she would need a shoulder to cry on after her "love" was thrown in a cold jail cell, wouldn't she?