Chapter 9: Pushed over the edge?

Filming was tough. I woke up early, got to bed late. I was beginning to feel tired, small things like yawning on set. Chris noticed, and for the next week, ordered me to go to bed early. I was grumpy about it, but it made a difference. I felt rejuvenated.

I didn't know where I stood with Darren.

He was amazing, funny, and sweet, a great friend, but I found myself on times wanting more.

I didn't get to see him as much, now spending extra time recording my voice. The first time, I was shaking. But I tried my best to hide it. As the song went on, I got more into it, and found myself even dancing along.

At the end, there was applause and I couldn't stop beaming like an idiot.

"Well, Anya! Who knew you had such a big voice?" Amber asked, as she came over to give me a hug. "Stop worrying, you were amazing."

After congratulations, I managed to sneak out of the recording booth, outside, where he was waiting. Damn him and looking perfect all the time. I knew I looked like a mess, my hair ruffled into various places, wearing nothing but a white vest and jogging bottoms.

"Hey."
He smiled. "I have something to show you." He offered his hand, and, surprised, I took it.

He led me outside, where the sun was setting, and the sky was tinged a fiery orange. It was beautiful.

"Look at this." Nervously, I took his phone.

People on Darren's Twitter account where re-tweeting his post and commenting.

I agree! No person should be treated like that!
She's beautiful.

Darren's right, you guys should stop this.

Friends or not, I honestly don't care if Anya is his girlfriend. Like any true Gleek; I'd be happy that Darren was happy.

At my name mentioned, my eyes flicked up to Darren's original post.

Addressed to those who have been sending hate to Anya,

You have no right to call her names, and send her stuff like this. Not that it's any of your business, but Anya is not my girlfriend. She's my friend. I don't think you realise how much your comments hurt her, and I don't want to see her in that state. She's beautiful, not ugly, or fat.

If any messes with Anya, they mess with me.

-Darren

His post was so sweet, I felt tears pricking my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, not wanting him to see me in a worse state than I already was.

"That's so sweet," was all I managed to say, before I hugged him. I felt safe in his arms, and my head buried deep into his shoulder.

He rested his chin on top of my head, which made me grip tighter onto him. I knew he saw us just as 'friends' but I didn't feel that way. And I didn't want to let go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris texted me quickly. Any updates? –Chris

Nosey. :P –Anya

I'm serious, I'm dying with nothing to do here. I need information! –Chris

Calm down, I'll tell you. Meet me outside of the recording studio in five. –Anya

My phone buzzed with one word. OK.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot by the time I got out. "I got held up!" I protested, feeling slightly guilty at his unimpressed look.

"Sure... You were going to tell me what happened?"

"Darren found me in the recording studio, said he had something to show me- he showed me the positive comments people had been tweeting. It actually improved my mood, a lot."

"And?" He gestured wildly.

"Nothing else! Well, we hugged, but-"

"-But you're still madly in love with him?" He supplied me.

"Not in love-" I began weakly.

"Oh, shush. I know what you're like."

"Whatever."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got to my room, glowing with happiness.

But my mood drastically changed when I took out my phone, and thumbed through.

There was a new tweet on my wall, by an 'anonymous user.'

You think you're so clever, don't you? Trying to steal Darren away from us. Well your stupid little trick won't work. Darren's smart, he'll work it out that you're nothing but a little boyfriend snatcher- Mia Swiers is far better than you. Her and Darren were meant to be together.

Meanwhile, you'll remain the sad, lonely person you are, and die alone.

Go drink bleach.

-anonymous user

You're nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

I rushed to the bathroom, and violently threw up in the toilet, retching until my throat burned and my stomach felt achingly empty.

I told you. Being skinny is the only way you'll be happy, the voice said. I nodded. It was right.

I had to be skinny, no matter what.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up, cramped up on my sofa. My bones ached. Every part of my body was complaining, but I had to get up. I checked the time on my alarm clock by my bed- 9:05.

Oh God.

I was late, I was late, I was late. Ryan would kill me. If I survived that long. I wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

I threw on some clothes, brushed my teeth and ran out.

Jogging to the studios was hard. And not fun. Today of all days had to be a chilly morning, with frost lain out over the landscape. It didn't make sense. It was July, for crying out loud.

I reached Paramount studios, breathing heavily. I wasn't a runner.

The receptionist at the desk narrowed her eyes. "Name?"

"Anya. Anya Grant."

"Right this way, Miss Grant," she said sweetly, signalling for me to follow her. I realised I looked awful. I even had my baggy, lifeless grey top on. The one I never wore, unless I was planning to live deep underground.

Jenna was waiting for me anxiously at the door of the Glee set. "Where have you been, Anya?!" She hissed at me. "It's been two hours!"

"I-I'm sorry, I woke up late, and-"

"No time." Jenna bundled me through the door. "Thanks," she nodded at the receptionist, who pursed her lips and gave me a death stare.

"Gee's waiting for you inside the trailer. She has been, for the past two hours."

I felt guilt twist in my stomach. "Sorry," I apologised weakly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Filming Perspective-

So they think they can stop me, Hummel and Anderson. I can't change Hummel, but I think I can just about manipulate Anderson. Bend him to my will. He's gay, (or at least he thinks he is) he's most likely never been with a woman before. Well I'll give him something to gawp at.

I loved attention. I love feeling people's eyes on me, as I strut down the hallway.

The tight, one piece suit exposing my cleavage I bought in Vegas. Las, Vegas, to be precise. My Daddy's money got me places. And he would do anything for his sweet, innocent daughter. The suit was an impulse. But I used it when I wanted to put on a show.

"Hey, Anderson!" I call. "Like what you see?" I smirk at him, and he looks helpless again, trapped as I corner him into the lockers.

"This is how it's going to go down. Either you and your little chipmunk boyfriend give up your childish 'plan' to get me expelled, or I'll be forced to do something."

He gains some composure, and says in a wobbly voice, "Y-You can't do anything. Kurt and I will get you expelled. No matter what."

I pout. "How sweet. You two are an adorable couple. Shame if someone split you up."

"What can you do," he seethes.

"This." I grab him and pull him forward forcefully. My lips crash onto his, before he can register what's going on. He struggles a bit, and relaxes eventually.

I pull away when I need breath. "See?" He looks flushed, red. "I'm the one who can make you lose breath. Hummel can't. How about this? Ditch the pale pansy, and come over to my side for a while." I wink. "It'll be fun."

"No thanks, Hayley," he spits at me. "I'd rather be with a person who has a heart, than a soulless, manipulative little bitch." His words hit me hard, and while I blink with confusion, he strides off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cut! Great work, everyone. Take five."

The camera man's voice brings me back to reality. I'm in LA, not Ohio. I'm a twenty six year old woman, not a seventeen year old cheerleader. Focus, Anya! I was getting too lost in the Glee World for my liking, too comfortable. I fell into character easily.

"Wow, Anya." Darren ran a hand through his hair. "I-I don't know what to say. To be honest, you're kind of terrifying and intimidating when you're playing Hayley."

"What can I say?" I grinned. "Hayley's like the dark side of me I've been begging to get out, and this is just an opportunity."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I like this side of you."

Wait, was he- no! He wasn't flirting with me, was he?

I leant in closer, so he could smell my perfume. "Let's just say she's the bad Anya."

His mouth twitched, like he was about to break into a smile, but he managed to keep a straight face. "I'd love to meet her, some time. Like a date."

"I'll have to think about it." I flirted right back.

Mark came up to us, about to open his mouth, when he saw the scene. The electricity was heavy. "Oh, I'll just-um, come back later." He stumbled on some props.

"What happened to you, Darren?"

"What'd you mean?" He cocked his head to the side, intruiged.

"When I first met you; you were shy and could barely construct a sentence."

"I think you're forgetting the part where it was after the party. We ended up in the same bed together."

I blushed, and dropped my head down. "Yeah, well- blame it on Ryan! He had to throw the party! I don't normally drink as much as I did that night."

He laughed. "It's fine. At least I didn't end up with Chord." When he saw my smile, he said solemnly, "No, it's true. It's happened before."

"Uh...Wow..." I stopped to think what to say next. It was tough to know what to say after that.

Darren was grinning his head off. "I'm joking."

"Oh, thank God!" It came out as an exhale.

"Gay in Glee, straight in real life."

"But thankfully available, right?" I said flirtatiously. It was his turn to look like a stuck mule. But an adorably dorky stuck mule. God, there I go again...

I was about to say I was joking, and apologise, when I suddenly felt dizzy. An unexpected jolt went through my body, and I slammed back, into the wall. The room started spinning, and my head was aching. I hadn't eaten since I threw up, yesterday. I didn't want to eat. Every time I glanced at food I felt sick. The voice kept reminding me of the consequences. So I pushed it away.

"Anya?" Darren's voice lost all jokiness, all teasing. "Anya!" His voice became a faint echo, with the ringing in my head. I fall down, plunging into the darkness.

The last thing I remember seeing was Darren and Chris's face staring down at me with anxiety.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up in a stuffy room. Instantly, my throat restricted and I couldn't breathe. I was silently panicking, flapping my arms when Darren rushed to my side.

"It's OK, It's OK. Breathe." He massaged the tight knots in my shoulders, and my breathing became easier.

"Where am I?" I asked, as soon as I calmed down.

"You're in the studio. One of the prop rooms." I peeled off the fleece blanket on top of me that was getting increasingly hot.

"I passed out, didn't I?"

"Yeah." His eyebrows furrowed and I could tell he wanted to ask me something, but he was holding back.
"The prop room was Chris's idea. He had a theory you didn't like hospitals?"

"Well, he's right." I stood up, brushing clinging dust off me. "I have to get back, they'll be waiting."

"Oh, no." Darren blocked my way to the door. "There's no way you're going back, after your fainting episode." He paused, and continued in a gentler tone. "We know what's happening, Anya. You're getting thinner." He touched my shoulder, and I flinched. "Please, don't do this to yourself."

"Do what?" I knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Starve yourself. Make yourself throw up; whatever you do. Don't."

"I'm sorry Darren," I apologised bleakly. "I have to. I'm naturally stunning like Naya, or skinny like Heather. It's the only way."

"You don't get it, do you?" He laughed weakly. "You're beautiful, just how you are."

Don't listen to him! The voice warned me. He lies!

"You don't need to starve yourself to be skinny, or put makeup to hide yourself away. You're perfect, the way you are. It's what I've always known, since day one, the day I met, Anya."

The voice was wailing in my head, but I blocked it out. I stared at a delusional Darren. But I wanted to believe it.

We both did what we had been waiting for, wanting.

He leant forward and captured my lips in a hot, searing kiss. Making his mark on my damaged body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was forced to stay away from filming, taking a couple of weeks to recover. I hated the word. It made me sound like I had a disease, surely not eating wasn't a disease?

There was nothing wrong with me. I wanted to be skinnier. Most people wanted to, right?
Darren insisted to 'keep watch' over me. We weren't exactly dating, but we were in close company, and it didn't prevent him from kissing me. We both agreed it would be so much easier if we didn't call it dating.

"We're just... enjoying each other's company, I guess," I grinned at him.

From then on, we used that excuse. Chris visited me; there was no hiding from him. He could see through everything. Our feeble attempt at pretending we didn't do all that 'gooey stuff.'

All he said was, "So. It's happened." And mysteriously disappeared.

"He's such a drama queen," I commented, out of earshot.

There were bad days, when I woke up, from dark dreams, gasping for air. There were days I'd look at food, and instantly feel sick. There were days when Darren had to force feed me.

And, then there was the voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hoped I wasn't insane. But the voice sometimes made me question my sanity. The things it said to me; made my flesh creep. It sent chills directly down my spine.

I was always dreading hearing it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'd spent a week from filming, anxious for the next week to go by quickly, so I could get back to work.

I was drifting off to sleep, on a Thursday night, when hearing Darren and Chris's voice alerted me. I lay there, concentrating on keeping my breathing quiet, eavesdropping on their conversation. Through a slit of light from my door, I could see the outline of one of them.

It was Darren who spoke first. "I'm worried about her, Chris. She's eating less and less. It's becoming more difficult to get her to eat. I don't know what to do."

"It's Anya." Chris's voice said, calm. "She knows how to look after herself."

"But what if she doesn't?!" I heard his voice, frustrated and I felt his pain. We were so close now, I could feel what he felt. "I've seen friends like this, in the same position she is. They didn't recover, they-" his voice broke.

"But she's different. She'll listen to you, Darren, she loves you."

"I-I love her too. But what if she's pushed over the edge?"

"C'mon. You need to get bed. I'll see you in the morning." I saw a glimpse of Chris's face, his eyes avoiding Darren's, ignoring his question.

There were mutterings goodbye, and my door creaked open.

"Darren?" I pretended to murmur sleepily.

"No, shush, go back to sleep!" He whispered loudly.

"You're such a bad actor."

I felt his hesitation, and realised why. "You can sleep in my bed, tonight, if you want."

He had set up camp on the hotel room's sofa, but I figured this was much more comfortable than a moist, sagging sofa with cold cushions.

"A-are you sure?"

"I'm fine." My voice came out muffled, from my face planted in my pillow. "As long as you don't attack me in my sleep, or you sleepwalk."

The bed sunk slightly under his weight. I tensed up a little when he lay down, near me, but I forced myself to relax. This was Darren a very good friend/almost boyfriend, not some creepy man that wandered into my bed by mistake.

I fell asleep easier, that night. But being with Darren didn't make the nightmares stop.

A/N: I apologise to anyone who was waiting for that chapter. Thanks to my new follower; DramaDork2490. I was hoping for a favourite, or a follow, maybe a review, so, great, thanks! You made my day. I left you on a cliffhanger, again! Is it again? I can't remember. Anyway, I'm evil, bla, bla.

It's getting a bit darker as it goes on, so just a warning there.

There may be mentions of self-harm and bulimia.