A/n: I know this isn't the chapter you wanted, but the next one is. This has been written with burnt and cut fingers, love my job ;) HAPPY NEW YEARS PEPS

"I think we need to talk," She whispered into the phone. After the shock had slowly began to fade away, she realised she needed to act. She should have listened the first time. She had been warned, but being the ever stubborn woman she was, of course she hadn't listened. She decided the woman had been crying wolf, trying to intimidate her.

After all the shit she had already been dragged through, she couldn't help but wonder what the hell she had done in her life to be punished so cruelly and so often. In five short months she had lived a thousand different lives. For the first two months each day had been exhilarating, a new experience, and a rollercoaster of emotions. The first two months had been almost perfect, except for how they ended.

Then came the following two months; the crushing despair, the never ending pain. They had been desolate, lonely days. Those two months were spent licking wounds, trying to rebuild herself. She had spent two months trying to forget him, trying to be even a fraction of the woman she was when he was around. She had forced herself to eat at least one meal a day, forced herself to swallow every morsel she put into her mouth, and forced herself not to bring it back up. But yet she couldn't seem to stop her mind from repeating that evening over and over, and she couldn't stop her subconscious from sneering at her, telling her how worthless she was. She couldn't stop telling herself she was a plain, mousey brunette who hadn't deserved the attention she had had bestowed on her.

However, she still forced herself out of bed, and into to work where she did her best to fit in. To try and feign happiness, to go to lunch with co-workers, and even once she forced herself to the bar afterwards. She forced herself to put make up on her face, and to wear clothes that made her look professional. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force herself to forget about him. She couldn't force herself to not love him; because it just seemed so natural and right.

Then, three weeks and five days ago, Kate had intervened. She had forced her out, she had forced her to smile, and she felt it become more natural. The harsh words her best friend spoke to her almost did the trick. She was back to eating normal amounts, and was getting over four hours of sleep a night.

She was almost her old self, at least when she was in public. The moment she was alone, she always sank back into the never ending despair. She still cried herself to sleep every night, and she still shied away from mirrors as her reflection still sickened her, but she was getting there.

Then, five days ago she had a phone call. The number was unknown, but that day she had woken up feeling ready to embrace the new day, and to take any surprises in her stride. So she answered, and so she agreed to the meeting. Not that she had been given much choice.

So two days later she walked into that coffee shop.

And three days later she was a heap on the floor, feeling worse than she had three weeks and six days ago, before Kate intervened.

"I wondered when I would get your call, Ana," Elena sneered into the phone. "Ready to discuss some details now?"

She sniffed loudly, and nodded her head in defeat, tears falling thick and fast. How had she let this happen?

"I need an answer Ana," Elena growled into the phone.

"Yes," Her voice was small, and she wondered if Elena could even hear her.

"Good, because I would hate to imagine what would happen if I was to let them loose on Kate," Elena told her, enjoying what Ana had been reduced to. "What with her being the attractive, curvaceous thing she is."

Ana bit her tongue, holding back the malicious words threatening to be spat from her mouth. Fear and upset melted away, replaced with a burning rage. Who the hell did she think she was?

"I will be in touch dear," and with that she hung up the phone.

In a rage, and no longer wanting to be a victim she felt herself become blinded. Standing suddenly, she threw her phone, satisfied with the rush she felt after. That bitch would pay; two can play at this game. No one can fuck with her friends, and expect to get away with it.

Two can play this game.

Being the victim was just too draining. Besides, how could she get revenge if she was just a crying heap on the floor? José deserved more from her. And she deserved more than this.