"Honest to God, I will break your heart. Tear you to pieces and rip you apart." -30STM
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Daphne woke up the next morning alone and sore. It had been a while since she'd had sex and the experience last night was a bit more extreme than she expected. She sighed and stretched, feeling the stiffness in her sore muscles. She glanced around and saw no evidence of Jared. Anywhere. The bed next to her was cold and his bags were nowhere to be seen. She heard movement in the living room and wrapped herself in a sheet, hoping to find him in there. Instead, she was met only by Terry, who was sitting at his computer. He glanced up when she came out of the room.

"Where's Jared?" she asked quietly, well aware of what she must look like, standing there wearing nothing but a sheet. She glanced around the corner into the kitchen, but found no one. Her heart deflated a little.

"He said something about having business in Rio. He caught an early flight to Rio this morning," Terry replied without looking up. "There's coffee in the kitchen if you want some."

Daphne got the sudden feeling that she was a stranger. Like she was unwanted. She hardly knew Terry and Jared had left her there. Alone. She wasn't the co-dependent type by any means, but she only came because he had convinced her to join him. She fought back tears, biting her lip.

"Ohh! Hold it right there, it's perfect!" Terry said, running over toward her with his camera. He took a quick shot as Daphne glanced around in shock.

Jared had used her. He had fucked her and then left her. That was all he wanted with her. She didn't know which was worse: that he took months to lure her into a false sense of security or that she had actually believed that he was going to be different. A tear slipped down her cheek and Terry captured the moment. She shook her head quickly to clear it.

"Well, I guess I should be going," she said, turning to go back into the bedroom.

Terry nodded, putting his camera down and watching her walk into the room. Daphne pulled her clothes on from the night beforehand and walked into the bathroom to freshen up. She stared at herself in the mirror in frustration. She thought Jared was someone she could trust. She thought he felt something for her. She thought SHE felt something for him. Now all she was left with was a rather large bruise on her ass of his hand print and the walk of shame past Terry Richardson.

Why the hell had she agreed to come with him? She should have just declined and gone home. Then none of this would have happened. She stared at herself in the mirror, more tears falling. Stupid. Stupid Daphne. There was a knock at the door that startled her.

"Did you fall in?" Terry's voice met her ears.

"Oh-uh-no. Sorry. I'll be out in a minute!" she called, wiping the tears again and straightening her clothes.

She took a deep breath and opened the door. Terry was back at his computer, typing away and looking at different photos from the night beforehand.

"Come here and see what we got," he said, waving her over.

She walked over and took a seat next to him, trying to break the awkwardness in the air. The last thing she wanted to do was go running off and give him the impression that it was normal behavior for her to come in, shack up with a guy, and then go their separate ways. But, that's what appeared to have happened.

"Did Jared say anything about why he had to leave?" she asked.

Terry shook his head. "Nope. He was gone when I woke up. He just sent me a text saying he had some things to take care of down there."

She nodded. So in order to escape having to wake up next to her, he had fled to another hemisphere. Wonderful.

"But check these shots from yesterday out," he said, bringing up a file full of photos on the screen. "You two are so hot together."

Daphne looked at the photos of the two of them staring at each other. She remembered how his hands had felt on her bare skin and the chills she got when she stared into his eyes. Looking at the photos, she almost felt like a voyeur, watching another couple in the throes of passion. They looked so perfect together.

"They're so good," he said. "Which reminds me," he added. "I need you to sign this release form so I can use your photos."

He produced a sheet of paper with a legal contract on it, removing her rights to any and all photos taken of her while she was there, should he choose to use any in any show or on his website or sell them. She glanced it over and shook her head.

"I'll give you permission to use the close ups of my face, but not these," she said, nodding her head toward the screen where the racy images were still up. "And not the ones you just snapped earlier when I woke up."

He stared her down, but he was no match for Daphne, who had years of experience signing contracts with different companies. He fell within ten seconds.

"Fine," he said, altering the contract with his pen. She signed with a smile.

"But the ones from this morning are absolutely gorgeous," Terry said, bringing them up on the screen.

Daphne gasped quietly when she saw them. They WERE gorgeous. Her hair was lightly tousled and she had a bit of a glow about her-the kind you get after you've had sex. Her eyes were full of tears and only one had fallen down her face. That, combined with the sheet pulled around her body, almost gave her the look of a refugee. Her eyes were lost, confused, and afraid. But there was a strength behind them, defiance almost, that changed the mood of the picture. With the morning light coming in above her from the skylights, she looked almost angelic. And then she remembered what had caused her to look that way. It wasn't Terry's phenomenal photography skills. It was Jared's disappearance and deceit.

She shook her head. "No, please don't."

With that, she walked over to her bags and shoved the clothes from the shoot last night into one of the pockets.

"Oh, you'll want this back," Terry said as he held her bra out for her. "It looks better on you than me, anyways."

She blushed furiously and yanked it from his hand, tucking it into the pocket as well. She silently cursed Jared and hoped whatever the fuck he was doing in Rio was worth it. Because the next time she saw him, she was going to punch him in the face.

Daphne got a taxi and then went to the airport. She texted Kelly what had happened so she knew about the photos being used, but she left out the part about sleeping with Jared and the racy photographs. She sighed as the plane took off (she'd managed to sneak past any paparazzi as she entered the airport) and was glad to be headed home. In a matter of a few weeks, she'd be back in Las Vegas filming the second season of 'Burnout' and she'd be back to living with Jack. As the plan ascended to the heavens, Daphne watched New York City grow smaller and smaller, and she knew she'd left behind a special part of herself.