Hey, sorry this took a week. I'm busy as hell, busier than Tiffany actually!

Chapter Twelve: Biotch

Tiffany's POV

My popularity had spiked once I had sold Bella's story to the tabloids. It didn't matter if it was true, it killed Bella's rep, and that's all I cared about. Yeah, I'm a bitch, but I'm a hot bitch!

Her popularity had gone up for a week once I'd told some cameramen about how Bella was in rehab in a secret location. That was the time I'd needed to remold myself into an image that every girl would want to be: hot, sexy, rich, and popular. Did I mention I was popular?

Anyway, once the roar died down a bit, I hit them with the biggest shit to ever hit the papers, bigger than Paris' fake boobs. (Which was something else I leaked, by the way)

I threw the biggest, baddest, most heiress-filled party to ever hit New York City. Paris, Nikki, Nicole, Lindsey, Mischa, and Brittney all came, along with a few other less known party girls. My entire senior year at Maine's Private Academy attended, at least, all the cool ones. The paparazzi had a field day with it. I swear, for the entire week after the Bella story, the headlines all read "Party Girls Gone Wild." They were filled with pictures of me, Paris, and Nicole dancing in the club, along with some pictures of Lindsey breaking her rehab codes. Gawd, that girl is a train wreck.

I, on the other hand, was perfectly perfect in all the possible ways. I was the hottest girl in New York, the top story in the media, and as of now, the richest bitch on the Upper East Side. Yeah, I know, I'm fucking marvelous.

Without the little slut crowding my perfection, I was reigning queen at Maine's. Audrey had finally given over to the fact that I was better than her, so I deserved it more. She had never really believed that Bella was in rehab, though, so it was a little harder to convince her. But, eventually, I did it.

I am fucking fantastic!

At least, I had thought I was until I got a text, two months after the first text from Bella, reading, "I know what you did."

The number was blocked, but I knew it was "Breakdown" Collins who had sent me this little threat. "What are you gonna do about it bitch?" I typed back.

"I'm coming back. Just you wait Tiffany. You're the bitch."

The scared me shitless. She was coming back! And she wasn't in rehab! New York's little princess was coming back and she was gonna get me back. Oh gawd! Maybe I could pin this on Audrey… she always did seem suspicious…

"Who is this?" I responded, just wanting to make sure this wasn't some prank Bailey was playing on me.

"Does 'Playgirl Hits Bottom' ring a bell?" was the answer.

Shit! That was the headline for the story I'd sold two months ago. The media had sold it as Bella going to a secret rehab center, of which no details could be found. She had hit bottom hard was all they knew.

It was Bella, and I was so screwed!

BPOV

Flashback to two months ago…

I had texted Tiffany and she had responded right away. She asked where I was, and that was the first scent of betrayal I'd gotten from my supposed best friend. I needed to keep this secret, sure, the paparazzi were probably having a field day, but better that then let them know I had been exiled to Rainy Day City.

I hadn't replied, since I didn't want to accidentally let anything slip. Tiffany was blonde, but she was smart… and evil. If she wanted to destroy me, she could. Easily.

Two days later…

I had been picking up some stuff for dinner when I had seen the headline. Playgirl Hits Bottom it read, showing a really ugly picture of me in a black cocktail dress. She had ratted me out. I grabbed the newspaper and started reading, when the cashier said. "Yo, we're not a library. Either buy it, or leave it."

I looked up to see an ugly, acne-scarred teenage glaring at me. "I'll take it, and by the way, Proactive works great for zits."

He just glared at me again and rang up my purchases. "Whatever."

"No! Seriously, check it out. Either that or live with red scars for the rest of your life. Your choice Pimple Face!"

He threw my stuff into a plastic bag, handed it to me, and said, "Next!"

I huffed away, insulted. Obviously these people didn't know good advice when they got it.

Once I was back in my truck I opened the paper again and started reading where I had left off.

"Bella Collins, daughter of ex-supermodel Renee Collins and music producer Phil Collins, is rumored to be in a secret rehab center. No details of the location have been discovered, but after a week of no appearances, it is starting to seem a liable story. The rumored alcoholic is known for partying with starlets like Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie. Her family is unavailable for comment."

I had stopped reading at that point. Damn, I was so angry it wasn't even funny! Tiffany had dumped me like Brittney dumped husbands!

Ugh! So much for best friends! Of course, I didn't actually do anything about it until after the kiss with Edward…

End flashback…

After Edward had dropped me off at home, it was a very awkward ride; I had had the guts to confront the biotch. Of course, I would block my number and everything… I was rich, not stupid, and definitely not brave.

"I know what you did," was the first thing I said.

It was only a few seconds till she replied, thanks to the instant gratification of technology. "What are you gonna do about it bitch?"

That made me angry! She was the one who ruined me forever, yet she thought it was fine to call me a bitch and act all defiant! So not cool. "I'm coming back. Just you wait Tiffany. You're the bitch."

I was probably scaring her now, if the next text was any clue: "Who is this?" She knew who this was, but I didn't want to outright tell her, that would not be creepy at all. I'd always had this weird twisted dream to be the creepy person threatening to kill the rich, pretty girl. Now I had my chance.

"Does 'Playgirl Hits Bottom' ring a bell?"

I was going to leave it at that. Tiffany was a freak, but I didn't need to be a freak back. She was gonna get something coming to her, that I could make sure of.

I really needed to get a hold of Audrey, and soon.

Okay, no Bella/Edward interaction, sorry. I wanted to get the Tiff thing fixed up and now the plot thickens!

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