Chapter 8: LARP & the Real Man

Those of the male persuasion say women can be frustrating and manipulative, but some men are worse than any women can ever be. Take Mr. CFG for instance – he discarded all of my furniture and replaced it to 'make me more comfortable' without consideration, thought, or consequence. Some of my prized possessions are now gone forever – things I kept for sentimental reasons – just gone. Fucking Grey! He left me without any choice in accepting his updated décor. If I return it or donate it then I'm left sleeping on the floor. FUCK! This is getting screwed by Mr. CFG but not in a sensual way! Where the hell are my thoughts today – damned pain medication. Yes, Grey is all kinds of hot, but then again, so is Sawyer, but I can't be attracted to someone who is stable, normal, and kind as Sawyer appears to be. Hell no! My first attraction is all hot on the outside and control freak – or maybe just freak on the inside. Even after what he's done and everything that's happened since taking my first cautious step in getting to know him, I'm still attracted to him. I'm a fricken moth and he's the flame.

So here I sit before the new iMac provided by Mr. CFG having read his sincere letter of apology for his actions – hindsight is 20/20, but I'm sorry, how did he get to be a billionaire without understanding the consequences of his actions? I mean, really? Do I just thank him and bite the bullet or do I channel my inner Kate Kavanagh and give him a piece of my mind? And here I continue to sit undecided. In the hospital I watched more television than I have in the past four years, leaving me feeling like I have Castiel and Crowley from Supernatural each sitting on one of my shoulders, whispering their preferred courses of actions into my ears. God the guys on that show are hot. I can't help but sigh. Castiel is pure with a heart of gold, but Crowley is the King of Hell, yet seductive. I'm so screwed – Mr. CFG brings out my inner Crowley. Deep down I must have daddy issues because Misha Collins is just all kinds of hot.

TO: Christian Grey

FROM: Anastasia Steele, Queen of Hell

DATE: May 21, 2011 05:02

SUBJECT: LARP & the Real Man

Your letter of apology for your multiple transgressions toward me or my personal belongings was quite eloquent and to a certain extent appreciated. Appreciation however doesn't automatically breed forgiveness. Given the formality of your correspondence I considered responding in kind but alas, my head is aching and frankly Mr. Grey, in my present medicated state it's much simpler to reply with honesty and directly to your list. Call it embracing my inner Crowley. (If you don't understand this reference you can do one of two things; either read Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, or watch Supernatural on Netflix where Crowley is a main character. And we're off:

Sin #1 – Violation of Privacy – Background check on me? I'm sure it provided all of five minutes of amusement for you. This isn't normal! I'm certain you found out important items such as where I worked, perhaps my bank balance, and maybe even my grades. All things that are unimportant and to some extent material and impersonal. You learned nothing about me of significance, such as: some of my favorite things: color, band, television show, movie, books, or diversions. With generic facts you were unable to ascertain if I am even a good person or am I a closet serial killer. I guess there's still time to become the latter if I remain in contact with you for a prolonged period of time.

Sin #2 – Stalking – See Seattle Law statute RCW 9a.46.110 so you are better able to understand the current law as it is on the books today. Your father is a lawyer – he would be ashamed. Have you done this before? If not, let me give you a clue – normal people, heck, even slightly normal people are capable of obtaining a restraining order against you. For an intelligent, successful man, you were foolish to send me an email with so many of your 'sins' as you call them. Trust me when I say, I have the email downloaded onto multiple flash drives and stored in case I ever feel the need to file for a restraining order against you. Again – read the stalking statue.

Sin #3 – Photo shoots – The pictures will provide me hours of entertainment and use for the new package of multi-colored Sharpies that were in my fancy, overpriced, unwanted new desk. Kate and I will enjoy the art project immensely and who knows, maybe we will use our friend Jose Rodriguez's contacts within the art community to have our own exhibition. Perhaps we can invite my namesake the Ukrainian Tennis player?

Sin #4 – Rundown – I'm thrilled in hindsight that no kissing happened at that time. Clearly I need a significant amount of therapy because I found myself attracted to you. Frankly, you are no better than my mother's third husband.

Sin #5 – Staying Away - You'll have to work on this one because I want you to STAY AWAY! I don't know if I can make that any clearer. I understand you have issues and that you aren't a bad person, but please, if you had any type of sentiment with regard to my well-being just STAY AWAY! I have enough self-esteem issues without having someone add to them.

Sin #6 – Red Room & Relationships – GET HELP! Keep Dr. Flynn on retainer and speed dial. Until you figure yourself out don't put anyone else through the crap I've been put through. I'm not saying this to be mean, I'm just trying to protect my sisterhood. The Marines motto 'Semper Fi' can I apply to women kind as well.

Sin #7 – Sorted Life – Thank you for the amusement park ride known as Christian & Ana's Not So Excellent Adventure. Please don't make me call Ted 'Theodore' Logan Esquire to keep you away. I wish time travel were real because I'd call the Doctor to take me back a few weeks ago so I could tell Kate to get someone else to interview you. Hands down, agreeing to go was the biggest mistake of my life … well, other than that awful blonde hair when I was fourteen. There is nothing like receiving the gift from a predator (yes, I went there – self-admitted stalker) that keeps giving – physical and emotional trauma. STRAIGHTEN YOUR CRAP OUT GREY OR YOU'LL END UP ON TV AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY!

As to the steps you've taken to ensure my future, I appreciate the medical bills being paid off, as if I hadn't been dragged to Seattle without being forewarned my life would be simpler. As to the other three items –

Your cash deposit – Keep it Mr. Grey. I don't want or need your tainted money. I'm not a whore or one of your submissives and NEVER will be – EVER! You have absolutely no right to access my bank account in any way, shape, or form. Hell, I might even consider filing charges on this alone;

When I'm ready, I'll find my own job thank you very much. I do not under any circumstances want to be indebted to you. Thank you for taking a quarter of the publishing houses in Seattle off my potential employer list by contacting SIP on my behalf – yes this is bitter, angry, sarcasm on my part, but you are so frustrating and have a knack for pissing me off;

My finals are on Monday and Tuesday. After that time, I will no longer require your security detail as I will no longer be in Seattle. I will admit however, that your team has made me feel secure and for that I do thank you and more so them. They are very good people and you should be proud of them.

There are a few simple things I want from you:

My belongings back – ALL OF THEM! You had no right to order your staff to replace my personal possessions. My life – My belongings – My control, not yours. You don't realize the three most sentimental items I own were discarded like common trash due to your actions:

-the picture frame my late biological father purchased the day I was born along with the inscriptions;

-the hand carved twin bed frame my adoptive father Ray made for me when I graduated from a crib to a regular bed;

-the ancient dried flower arrangement that my late biological father brought to the hospital as fresh flowers when I was born.

I understand to the people that don't know me, these items appeared old and worthy of being discarded, but all are irreplaceable to me. I'm angry, bitter, crushed, and feel violated by your disregard for my possessions. I understand they are not up to your standards and that you are, at this point in time, incapable of feeling sentimental attachment to most items, but I wouldn't trade these three items for all the money in your precious bank account.

All I wanted was to get out of the hospital and head home to the comfort of my things. There's comfort in the feel of my old warn cotton sheets and the smell of the fabric softener sheets used in the dryer – not new out of the package gazillion thread count sheets that smell new rather than familiar. I'm sorry, but right now I need familiar and that's gone. Congratulations – you've made the over-medicated, overly-emotional, self-proclaimed queen of hell bawl her eyes out just sitting here thinking about it. Intellectually I understand you were trying to make me more comfortable, but I'm a medicated, emotional, wreck here and right now I hate you. I'm sorry if that's harsh, but I feel like I'm clinging to an ocean dingy during Hurricane Grey.

I'm sorry if I'm coming off bitter, but the myriad of emotions coursing through me since my accident are overwhelming, and frankly, I was overwhelmed before my accident just trying to get through school, work part-time, and wonder what a billionaire would want with the likes of me. I understand that now, it's one utterly screwed up soul finding another. I can't make this clear enough Mr. Grey, please leave me alone.

You also need to consider clearing the air with my father, as your action more than likely left him feeling financially inadequate and highly suspicious of your intent. You stomped all over his pride with your expensive shoes and your controlling ways, but I know he saw right through you. At the very least you owe him a sincere apology for your actions and their impact on him. Hopefully you are capable of figuring it out. If not, please feel free to do a web search on how to find a clue.

I've kept your choice of sexual lifestyle to myself and without signing your precious NDA. I didn't do it for you. I did it for myself because no one needs to know about the day I was disrespected and offered worse than a whore's life if I allowed you to beat and fuck me in exchange for living expenses and possessions. Clearly what's valuable to me means nothing to you, and vice versa.

With that said…

On Tuesday afternoon, I'm leaving Seattle until I am healed or once Kate returns from her vacation in Barbados, so I'll be gone for approximately three to four weeks. Before I return I want my belongings returned to me and the apartment cleared of every last item you purchased. There will be no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I'm twenty-one, fresh out of college and furnishing my own apartment with my roommate is a rite of passage in my mind, so please abide by my wishes.

Might I recommend that you vacate your ivory tower and experience LARPing. I strongly recommend some adventures of LARPing as a Real Man preferably in a normal life. I'm certain your brother would expand your horizons and assist you in embracing the common man or woman in all of us. If Elliot doesn't know what LARPing is, perhaps whatever geek runs your background checks can enlighten you.

You bring out the worst in me and make me uncomfortable with the person I am when I'm exposed to you. The self-loathing is inescapable and alarming. I've never had this happen in my life. I don't know whether to apologize for this email or just scream at you. In the end, I'm electing to send the email though I know it will cause you turmoil. I'm doing it because I'm probably irrational with the pain medication but also because of the person I've seen that you can become. Maybe if you understand what I'm feeling – all the different neurotic shades of my emotions, moving forward you won't repeat this mistake. You're better than this Grey. I saw it in your eyes when we were with Flynn. I feel like my subconscious is Yoda in Star Wars – 'anger, fear, aggression – the dark side of the force are they' we're both drowning in our own darkness and together we extinguish all light. It's terrifying.

You're like a Peanut M&M – hard candy shell, sweet chocolate inside, that surrounds a nut. Hell, I can relate. I'm no different in many ways. How you've made me feel when we were with Dr. Flynn is different than that day at Escala. My emotions are a swirling vortex of confusion when I'm near you, but what I saw in you at the hospital was actually quite simple – you're a frightened, confused, little boy who needs to be nurtured. Every so often I caught glimpses of him staring back at me, but it took seconds for that hard candy shell to set and harden, then I was met with the closed-off, angry eyes of the terror one feels when they are raw and vulnerable – it's both heartbreaking and chilling at the same time. Unfortunately, it's all too familiar as well. I see that look every time I venture a glance into a mirror, the difference is my mask is that of a quiet bookworm, while yours is a dominant.

No one can save you but yourself Mr. Grey. I know you are worth saving and I want to believe that I am as well, but it's easier to believe leprechauns can defecate rainbows at will. Pain medication provides interesting, intellectual imagery – leprechauns defecating rainbows. I dare you to taste that rainbow. Where was I… oh yeah, one glimpse into the eyes of the frightened little boy inside you, and it's clear you deserve so much more than the life you are living; well if you can call it living – existing might be a better word. I know because in those young eyes I see my own issues and traumas. We both have jobs to do – save ourselves. We're each worth our efforts. There's a saying: 'Don't let the bastards get you down'. I don't know what happened to you and it's none of my business, but for me it was Texas; and I won't allow one asshole in Texas to keep destroying my life, because if I do, he wins. If anything good came out of our brief acquaintance, then this is the lesson I learned. For that, I thank you.

I wish you only the best on any personal journey to which you aspire. Meditate on this Mr. Grey – Mr. Thomas Paine once said: 'It is the direction and not the magnitude which is to be taken into consideration.'

Anastasia Steele – survivor, one-handed typist, and embracing her inner nut who spent 90 plus minutes pecking away at the keyboard while channeling her inner Queen of Hell.

By seven, Dad woke up for the day. He set the coffee pot to brew, then headed toward the bathroom. I could sense his discomfort and displeasure at the entire CFG situation. It's either that or he was getting ready to pass a kidney stone. Thankfully it was time for another pain pill, so if I was lucky, he'd have mercy on my soul. I know taciturn Dad has been waiting for me to feel better before pushing for more answers. I took my pill, planted myself on the couch, and waited for him to return to the kitchen.

"So Annie, are you going to tell me what's really going on with Christian Grey?" Ray asked quietly.

I sighed. Heck, I've been doing that a lot lately. "Dad, as I told you, I met him when I filled in on an interview with him when Kate was sick. When I left the interview I thought he was a controlling ass – an incredibly good looking controlling ass, but an ass nonetheless. He's a major benefactor at the university and on a subsequent trip to the school, he agreed to do a photo shoot for Kate's article. Kate met his brother at that time and they began dating. After the shoot, he asked me out for coffee. I'd be lying to you if I told you I wasn't attracted to him." I pause and bite my lip. Mental note to self, if I keep biting my lip, I'll become nothing more than a novelists cliché. Note to self – read less, interact with humanity more.

"Go on."

"I don't know Dad. You remember when I returned from … well you know. It's like part of my life stopped. I didn't date or even look at boys until Jose broke down that barrier. He was shy, quiet and trustworthy. He was my first male friend – like a twin brother. The first man I was ever attracted to was Christian, but in some ways, he's even more screwed up than I am. On our second and final date, he flew me down to Seattle for dinner at his penthouse. It was fun, but he wanted more. He never tried to force himself on me, but given my –

"History in Texas," Ray added when I couldn't proceed.

"Yes, Texas… well, I over-reacted, broke his nose, kneed him in the stones, and kicked him in the sternum – just like you taught me. He went down like a 180-lb sack of potatoes and hit his head on some steampunk statue he had and was knocked out. I called an ambulance and I ran like all hell, but I let his head of security, Taylor know I was leaving and he cared for Mr. Grey. I rented a car to head back to school. I just completely panicked."

"For someone you technically assaulted, he's been watching over you," Ray commented. "It's clear he feels responsible. Is there any chance he or someone that works for him ran you off the road?"

"None. I got in the cab Taylor exited and left. They had no idea I rented a car or where I was headed for the night. I've spoken to Taylor in the past day or so and he believes I was possibly targeted because someone assumed I was involved with Mr. Grey and they wanted to harm him. It could have been a business associate or an ex."

"Do I need to have further words with Mr. Grey?" I could see the anger in Dad's eyes. He was in full-on protective mode.

"Damaged attracts damaged Dad," I reply. "I think he's been through enough in his life without anyone else damaging him more. He's working on his issues and he's a good man, although he's a bit screwed up right now. His interpersonal skills and his ability to empathize are limited, but his heart is in the right place. He emailed me over night to apologize for taking over my life and inadvertently discarding my belongings. I emailed him back stating he had three to four weeks to get this crap out of here and return my stuff."

"Nice to see some of the piss and vinegar you had in your veins when you were younger is coming back," Ray smirked. "I'm not a fan of Mr. Grey, but the big question is: Do you like him?"

"It doesn't matter Dad. I'm not going to throw myself into a relationship where it's codependence at its worst. He's a control freak and I'm just a mess who's been in denial since Texas. He brings out the worst in me and frankly, for someone so profoundly damaged as he is, my worst is the last thing he needs. My worst even frightens me lately. Yes I find myself drawn to him in a way I don't understand and it's alarming, but all that will happen, regardless of my attraction to him, is we'll just damaging each other more."

There was an awkward silence between us. I broke it. "Right now, I want to focus on getting better. After my last final on Tuesday, I want to get out of here and head home to Montesano. Once Kate moves down and finishes her family vacation, then I'll move back. Hopefully by then all of my belongings will be returned and I won't feel like I'm living in an apartment that should be roped off for a designer magazine. This place doesn't feel like home. The apartment in Portland did. All this expensive stuff just isn't important to me. I'm happy being a regular girl. Once I find a job, I want to find a therapist and work through my issues because right now they are sitting on my chest like a pallet of bricks and sometimes it's just hard to breathe."

Ray sighed – must be a family thing. "I'm glad you feel that way. You've always had a good head on your shoulders and you are making the right moves. I will tell you though, if I run into Mr. Grey, I will give him a piece of my mind. Are you still going to try to walk graduation even though he's the one handing out diplomas?"

I yawn and rest my head on the back of the couch. "I have no idea what to do about that. After the rude email I sent him this morning I'd be surprised if he won't have Taylor restrain me to protect himself. Rude is an understatement. Hateful might be a better term – cruel perhaps."

"Come on baby girl, back to bed," he orders, helping me from the couch and into my bed. I remember my head hitting the pillow before quickly falling asleep and in my dreams clinging to the dingy while hurricane Grey keeps me off balance.