Original subtitles

It's 2015, and people still act like marriage

is some sort of crowning achievement for women.

That is a trap I did not fall into.

Some people prefer to really feel like they're holding a knife in their hands.

I dove in headfirst.

Most professional chefs, they prefer...

I don't normally quiver for cutlery,

but I'm getting married in six weeks, so here we are.

- Does that mean it's sharper? - Scary sharp.

And she ain't cheap, but she is the superior blade.

Well, baby, we can't start married life with inferior blades.

So you wanna choose a knife that feels comfortable in your hand.

What do you think of the Zwilling?

Snap out of it, psycho.

It's heavier.

She has the touch.

Oh... Well...

I think being a petite woman, you'll find the Miyabi easier to manage.

I've managed to not eat lunch for six years

just to have this joker call me petite.

Petite is what they call short fat girls.

I should know. I used to be one.

Text your mom.

- Let her know we're officially registered. - Okay.

Luke Harrison the Fourth played D1 lacrosse at Colgate,

kite surfs on Nantucket,

and skis in Vail because Aspen is lousy with the nouveau riche.

Mmm.

He calls me "babe" with the finest of intentions.

- Let's go, babe. - Yeah.

Heretofore, it is his birthright to marry a blond insect of Norwegian descent

with a gender-ambiguous name, like Landry or Devon,

who can spot my grift a mile away.

Hey, can we get pizza?

Who are you, and what have you done with my fiancée?

I'm not to the manor born,

but I have something no trust fund can buy...

the edge.

It doesn't take much in Luke's world.

Love your work, hate babies, even the cute ones,

have a few lurid secrets,

and be eternally grateful that Luke knows all of them and still loves me.

Um, my mom is asking if the invites went out.

Mm. Yeah, once I approve the font.

- Once you approve the font? - Yes.

Oh. Once Ani approves the font.

Thank you.

Oh, she's saying they should go out six weeks before.

- Jesus, are we at six weeks already? - Yeah.

Whoa, we are at six weeks.

All done here?

- Yeah, maybe just a box, please. - Sure.

- Loo. - Okay.

Someone once called me an animal.

One wrong move and Luke will see it too.

Hmm.

You can just take that. Thank you.

Jesus. What happened?

Waitress spilled soda all over the pizza and my dress.

Oh no.

It's gonna be okay, babe. Okay?

Come on, I'll help you.

Baby, I love you.

Oh! Oh my God.

- I'm so full. - You hardly ate anything.

Okay, so maybe I keep some secrets from him,

but no one has ever made me feel so safe.

I'm proud of you for eating carbs, babe.

I wanna see every one of you dripping in sweat.

Nothing is so bad that you can't do it for ten more seconds.

Ugh! Nineteen minutes?

Some people have jobs to get to.

I mean, not me, but some people.

But I can't be late today.

Oh my God. Are you meeting the documentary director today?

Yes.

Okay, well, you're not gonna be late on my watch.

Nell Rutherford has been fostering me since freshman year of college.

I know you never take the subway.

Oh God, no, no, no. I-I really... I really hate this.

Okay. By your side.

Nell is a natural blond with a trust fund.

I'm a try-hard former financial-aid kid.

We both hate where we came from.

Your mom's coming this weekend, right?

Oh, yes.

She's been to TJ Maxx three times

to try to find an outfit for my fitting at Saks Fifth Avenue on the 5th Avenue.

Wow, what is the opposite of a legend?

Okay, I think this one is the most you.

What? Only You Pro?

Oh.

Would you pick it?

I mean, I'm not getting married until we have a woman for president,

so I guess we'll know soon enough.

Uh...

I, uh... I'm still scared I'm making a mistake.

Getting married?

No. No, like is Only You Pro the font of a trash slut

who doesn't know how to pass the salt and pepper shakers together.

Oh my God, there is no such thing as a slutty font. It doesn't exist.

God, I can't breathe.

Oh my God.

It's okay.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

This is normal. Okay? This happens all the time.

We are experiencing a delay...

- It's no big deal. - ...due to train traffic ahead of us.

Thank you for your patience.

You okay?

There we go. See?

Next stop 34th Street-Herald Square.

- And we're moving. Okay. - Oh my God.

Ugh! Eleanor Whitman. Brought in from The Atlantic

to elevate the overly-sex fashion glossy where I work.

How was your weekend?

I feel like I ran a half-marathon through Williams-Sonoma.

- Williams-Sonoma? - Yeah.

You should register for a few pieces at Scully & Scully if you can.

I'm sure Luke's family would go in on them.

The fuck is Scully & Scully?

Obsessed with Scully & Scully.

My bedroom sconces are from there.

Mmm.

Eleanor gets to write about topics with gravitas,

like the wage gap and women in Afghanistan.

I'm on another equally important beat.

Your voice, Miss FaNelli...

is simply peerless.

My jaw hurts after reading that.

This is what sells our magazine.

Apparently men's pleasure is of global importance.

So a recent study in the American Journal of Public Health

found that last year, 30% of sexual assault survivors

had to pay $940 for their own rape kits.

That's a girl's whole paycheck.

Right. So I was thinking

"The Real Cost of Sexual Assault" as the cover line.

Oh! Lavender. Retch.

Hmm.

How about, "When Your Rape Costs More than Your Rent"?

Now that gets us on The Today Show.

Mm...

Miss FaNelli, give me something skanky to keep the lights on.

Okay.

Let's see, skanky...

Okay, a new study in the Journal of Kinesiology

found that nasal breathing is optimal for sports performance

and is used by some of the top athletes around the world.

So, "Five Weeks to an Olympian Blow Job:

Breathe Like a Top Athlete

to Last Longer and Go Deeper than His Ex."

When I count my blessings, I count you twice.

- Draft by the end of the week? - Yeah.

Thank you, everyone.

Come with me.

It's gonna be your name on the masthead of The New York Times Magazine.

Lower than mine, but it beats a Cuisinart for a wedding gift.

I am this close to becoming Ani Harrison,

senior editor at The New York Times Magazine,

to becoming someone people can respect.

Abstaining from lunch allows me to squat in Eleanor's office when I need it.

One day, I'll have a corner office with my own insufferable display

of prestigious and frankly phallic-looking awards.

Until then, I pretend I'm important.

The rock was Luke's grandmother's.

Oh. Pardon me, his Nana's.

He told me I could reset it in a diamond band,

what all the girls are doing now.

Exactly why I will never.

I intend to send a very clear message.

This is an heirloom.

We don't just have money. We come from money.

Take your best shot.

Hey, Ani. Good to see you again.

Sorry to make you come all the way to Midtown.

Katie, thank you so much.

Can you please remind Benjamin that I need the art

for the wage-gap story?

Um, the what story?

The smart story I just made up to sound more impressive.

Ask Penelope.

- Sit, please. - I appreciate you making the time.

- Mm-hmm. - Uh...

I know you said that the documentary was not the right choice at the moment,

but there's been a pretty sizable development since the last time we spoke.

Your former classmate, Dean Barton, has signed on to be interviewed.

Keep it the fuck together, FaNelli.

I guess it shouldn't be a surprise he has a new book to promote.

I'm sure you saw his speech before Congress this summer.

Only 200 times.

No.

Oh, it was a plea to tighten firearm background checks in Pennsylvania.

Your ring. Show him your ring.

I'm afraid I've been preoccupied this summer with planning the wedding

and the magazine's initiative with Hillary's campaign.

I can't imagine what it's like to have people grilling you about it

so many years later.

You're a survivor of the deadliest private-school shooting in history.

And the reason it continues to captivate public interest

is because there are still so many questions you never answered.

People wanna know were you a hero or an accomplice?

I had absolutely nothing to do with it.

- Then why does Dean say you did? - I don't know.

Don't you wanna tell your side of the story?

Miss FaNelli. Right at home, I see.

I need three to five cover line tries for the simultaneous orgasm story

by the time I get back from lunch.

LoLo Vincent, editor-in-chief of The Women's Bible.

Aaron Wickersham, independent filmmaker.

Oh, that's right. I saw your short at the Toronto Film Festival a few years back.

Are you our hot guy of the month for December?

Actually, I'm working on a documentary about gun violence in schools.

I'm hoping to talk to...

Don't say it.

...TifAni.

Oh.

I always forget that's your name.

Ani's pithier.

My team has spent the last year

researching the incident at your high school.

My intention is not to upset you by saying this,

but we've uncovered a very different side to the story.

I promise you, I'm only after the truth here.

I give you my word that our work together will not cause you further harm.

As long as you get your sensational story.

I'm sorry, but there's just no way that you can promise me something like that.

What if I said I believe you, Ani?

Thank you.

Oh, it looks like a castle, TifAni.

I always think they're gonna drive nicer cars in the Main Line.

It's such a hoity-toity area.

Mom.

Hmm.

One hundred percent of the students who received this writing scholarship...

- Ended up at a tier-one university. - ...ended up...

I know you think I'm a broken record, but college is where you meet the people

who are gonna be in your life for a very long time, TifAni,

and the caliber of men is just not there at a state school.

Okay, Mom.

This is it. This is the beginning.

Bye.

You're already the prettiest girl in school.

Mom! Shh!

I spent the first few weeks at the esteemed Brentley School

navigating the various cliques.

There were the popular kids...

- Hi. - Hi.

...the smart kids,

and everybody else.

Plus the very cool teacher who noticed my talent right away.

"Holden is what we call an unreliable narrator,

someone whose version of the truth can't be trusted."

That's a line from the exceptional essay by TifAni FaNelli.

Welcome to Brentley. Congratulations.

Stop.

Oh, thanks.

The one thing they all had that I didn't?

Pedigree.

Yo, Hilary.

- Yo, Dean. - Get me some Swedish Fish.

Oh.

Don't worry, I got you.

Uh... Don't use a tray.

- Thanks. - Yeah.

Okay.

Come on, come sit with us.

Liam! Over here.

Peyton, take that.

- Hey, girl. - Hey.

- What's up, TifAni? - Shit, homeboy's already called dibs.

I showed her where the language room was this morning, shitbrain.

- What do I owe you, Finny? - Finny?

Tif-Finny.

Don't worry about it.

Only Dean would let a financial-aid kid buy him lunch.

Oh.

It's a writing scholarship.

That only low-income students can apply for.

Liv...

Hmm. And yet, you're John D. Rockefeller's great-great-great-granddaughter,

and you still lost the Salinger Essay Award to, uh...

Okay.

Uh, Olivia had to change her last name from Rockefeller to Kaplan

due to a kidnapping threat.

- It's been a harrowing time for her. - Jesus. Finny, watch out for this freak.

Choke on your Swedish Fish, Dean. You're such a dick.

...gun control. And they equate it with an effort to take away their guns.

And I used to be one of them, Rachel,

until I realized that the bill we are proposing

wouldn't have threatened my constitutional rights.

But it would have ensured that the gun that severed my spinal cord

was registered, locked away in a safe place,

out of the hands of the dangerous, mentally-unstable individuals that...

Why are we watching this?

We... We so appreciate you...

That director reached out again.

Oh.

What does he want?

Dean's doing the documentary now.

Nice.

It's a last-ditch effort to get you to do it.

You're the story. You're the one who's never gone on record.

He needs you.

Hey.

You should do it if you feel you need to do it.

But remember, you don't have to defend yourself to me

or to anyone who really knows you.

Who cares what anyone else thinks?

So easy to say when everyone loves you, Luke.

- Can I give you some good news? - Yeah.

They wanna make the London offer attractive to both of us.

Luke's firm wants to pay him fuck-your-feelings-money

to move to London,

where I'll be barefoot and pregnant in a year.

John said this is ranked number six globally when it comes to MFA programs.

Come on, Luke.

You know MFA programs are just for white girls

who can't get paid to write.

I thought you'd be elated.

It's just, um... LoLo mentioned today that she's in the final stages

of reviewing her contract with The New York Times Magazine.

I'm sorry, Ani, but how many times have you heard this?

Until there's an offer on the table, none of it is real.

London is real.

This is a real opportunity for you.

Okay, I'll think about it.

- Think about it. Going for a run. - Okay.

Think of it as a fresh start, babe.

This is so fun.

- Go. You got it. - All right. All right.

Watch this.

Oh my God.

Liam is, like, doing a mating dance or something.

He is so yummy right now.

Move your legs!

Hey, yo, Peyton, watch this.

- Oh! Oh! Hey! Oh. - Okay.

- Ah! - What...

- What the fuck? - Relax.

You're fucking weird. Get the fuck away from me.

- Relax, man. - This fucking guy.

- Come on. - I'm gonna kill him.

Ah!

Hey.

He's so cute!

Arthur, I think I might be pregnant.

Oh, yeah. You guys' kids are gonna need a fucking tutor.

Why... Why do I feel like you just did something ill-advised?

Dude, you promised no horseshit tonight.

Well, promises are meant to be broken, mon chéri.

Oh!

He's got a flask. Let's go.

- Oh, Arthur. Arthur. Arthur. - Arthur.

Arthur, stop.

You need to come with me, now.

Come with me.

Hilary!

Come on.

Don't stop. Don't stop.

Girls. If you leave school property, I have to call your parents.

My mom knows I'm going to Dean's house.

I mean, she's best friends with Mrs. Barton.

- Yeah. - Tiff's sleeping over after.

- Call Hilary's mom if you want. - Yeah.

Yeah, call my mom.

Okay.

Yes, I'm here.

Go, go, go. Come on.

Hey!

Hi!

- Hi, Mr. Larson! - No, don't!

- Don't do that! - Thank you!

He's gonna call my mom.

I love this song!

Halter is a good style for her.

She can wear anything.

Even with the breast reduction, she's still broad in the shoulders.

Wow.

Marry me.

Mmm.

What about a belt?

You just need some embellishments or something 'cause it's so plain.

If you just would've waited five more seconds,

you wouldn't have had to insult my dress.

I did not insult her dress. Did you hear me insult her dress?

You just want her popping.

Nell gets it.

I was watching Say Yes to the Dress the other day,

and the girl on there

had, um, this tulle princess skirt you could tie on or tie off.

Kate Middleton didn't wear a tulle princess skirt to her wedding.

Neither should the expecting child brides of Ohio.

Thank you.

Yes, she was about six months along.

Mmm.

Still, I think I would do that over this, um... The bolerino thing.

Bolero.

Bolero.

Have another.

Ani.

Excuse me for trying to celebrate the most important day of your life.

I'm gonna go check out the sales upstairs.

I'm afraid you can't bring glass outside the bridal boutique, ma'am.

Okay, don't kill me, but I sort of agree with her.

I mean, you're sexier than this, right?

I'm getting married in the whale print capital of the world.

I don't wanna embarrass Luke in some sequined mermaid dress.

Embarrass Luke? Ugh! Fucking yikes, Ani.

Nell, I'm... I'm five weeks out.

Why would you tell me that my dress is wrong now?

No, it's not wrong. Okay? Nothing about you is wrong.

Jesus. Unclench, okay?

Yeah, well, that's impossible,

what with the real housewife of Pennsyltucky in town.

Be nice to your mother.

That cut looks nice on you.

More forgiving across the middle than some of your other stuff.

Whoa!

It's the director. It's Aaron.

Let it go to voicemail.

I thought you told him no. Why is he calling you?

I did,

but I just wanted to know if I change my mind,

when I would need to be available.

Holy shit.

- Ani. - Like, good "shit"?

Babe, you wanna expose Dean Barton for the sanctimonious prick that he is.

This is no-dairy-for-a-month shit.

Single-wipe shit.

No. Uh, I don't know. I, um... I'm not ready.

- Come on, what will it take? - Oh.

Let's see. Uh, Dean's making viral speeches at Congress,

and I have a story due Monday about how to pleasure an uncircumcised penis.

They're more sensitive than the ones without their turtlenecks,

according to the experts.

Nobody believed me back then,

because I was a Wet Seal wearing gutter rat.

If I'm gonna do this, I need to be bulletproof.

I need to be able to say that I work at The New York Times,

that I live in an elevator doorman building in Tribeca,

and that my name is Ani Harrison

because I married the lacrosse captain of Nantucket.

And how dare anyone believe I did what Dean said I did

while wiping away a single tear with this hand in particular.

Four out of five.

Not that you need any of it to make you credible.

You don't,

but I do.

I do.

My God, they have attitude in here.

It's like, you work retail.

- I'm gonna make a quick call. - Okay.

- You're fine. - Oh, thank you.

Sucker's a hall pass.

Hi, Ani. I'm so glad you called.

I didn't feel good about the way we ended things in your office.

The new headmaster's allowing us to film on campus the second week of September.

We're just finalizing the schedule. We'd love to know if you're in.

- Oh, cute, Spencer. - Call me back when you get a chance.

Oh, excuse me. You look exactly like my daughter.

Uh, people are always mistaking me for someone else.

While I have you...

- That one. - Hmm.

Nice eye.

Hi, Aaron?

I always stay at the Ritz Carlton when I come home.

Great.

Baby, here we go!

Oh!

Shots!

Come on!

- Cheers! - Cheers!

Oh, yeah!

I'll take that one too.

- All right, let's go. - Hilary.

Hilary, your mom's here.

- My mom's here. Fuck, my mom's here! - What?

We have to go.

What? I've got to go.

- Tif, are you coming? - You can't have her.

I'm sorry, you can't have her!

Tif!

He won't let me go.

Finny, drink! Let's go.

Come on! My house, my rules.

Ani?

Fucking corporate.

Okay, the latest edict is we can't say clit, but clitoris is fine.

Okay.

Oh, but you don't need to know that, because you no longer work here.

We're going to The New York Times.

Oh, fuck yes! Yeah!

Whoo!

Thank you.

Hi. Reservation for four for Harrison.

Should be eight o'clock.

- Hey. - Hey.

Hi.

- You're in a good mood. - Okay, so I have some good news.

- One member of your party is at the bar. - Oh.

Okay, I'll, um... I'll tell you after.

Here you go. Thank you so much.

That's her. That's... That's the wife.

Okay.

Whitney.

- Luke. Hi. - Good to see ya.

Mm. Andrew's running a few minutes late.

- This is Ani, my fiancée. - Hi, Whitney.

- Nice to meet you. - Nice to meet you.

Excuse me, but I have been stuck at home with a 16-month-old.

A 16-month-old?

You look amazing.

Luke calls me the wife-whisperer.

Do you have any photos?

Like it's so hard.

Literally, all you do is act like they invented motherhood.

Scroll to the right.

There's a special place in hell for women who can't show you

just one picture of their children.

Oh my God, come on. Look at this little munchkin.

- Baby, look at it. - Cute. Can I have a beer, please?

Is this your husband?

As far as I know.

Sorry. My God, 5th was a parking lot.

- There he is. - Luke.

- Good to see ya. - Great to see ya.

- Honey. - Hey.

This is Ani.

Nice to meet you. Andrew.

Mr. Larson, it's me.

TifAni.

TifAni?

Uh, "Mr. Larson?" Was he your teacher?

TifAni.

Uh... I didn't recognize you. You look...

Like none of it ever happened.

We can seat you now.

So... I'm sorry, wait a second. Did you change your name or...

No, this is, um, TifAni, from when I left Brentley.

Oh.

Oh God.

- God, I'm so sorry for... - Oh God.

- You know, everything. - It's okay.

- What happened to you, I just... - Oh, I understand.

Make it stop, Luke.

I'm so sorry. I...

Well, if it's any consolation,

thanks to you, my do-gooder husband got into credit derivatives.

You know, TifAni was the strongest writer in my class.

Well, now she's senior editor at The Women's Bible.

- The Women's Bible? - Yeah.

- That's fantastic. - Thank you.

I used to have to hide that from my mother growing up.

"The past is never dead. It's not even past."

To what Confucius said.

Huh, Faulkner.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

Cheers.

Mmm. So, Ani, you have to tell us,

what do you think of the director in the skinny jeans?

- You're doing the documentary? - They got to you too, huh?

Please tell me you are.

Yeah.

It's long overdue.

Thankfully, the timing worked out.

We might be moving to London after the wedding.

- London? - Yeah.

Luke has been asked to run BlackRock's European desk.

- Luke, congratulations. - Thank you.

- Exciting. - We're still figuring out the details.

Will you be able to write for the magazine from over there?

Actually, I... just got accepted

into the Goldsmith's MFA program

- at the University of London. - Ah!

To teach, I hope.

- Oh! - Oh!

Ugh! Enough, Mr. Larson.

Sometimes I feel like a wind-up doll.

Turn my key, and I'll tell you exactly what you wanna hear.

For someone who so easily could,

Mr. Larson has never once made me feel ashamed.

Hey.

Our spouses went to 7th to get a cab.

- Can I tell you something? - Sure.

I got a job offer from The New York Times Magazine today.

Brava.

I mean, I had nothing to do with it, but I couldn't be more proud.

Thanks.

What about London and the MFA?

I'll figure it out.

Tif, I know how these things usually go.

Don't acquiesce.

- I'm glad you're doing the doc. - It's a balancing act with him.

He doesn't trust the director in skinny jeans.

So you acquiesce?

Am I allowed to call you a bastard now?

You should be allowed to do anything you want.

Okay.

It was good to see you.

Hey, man, is the AC on?

Should be getting colder now.

Did you mean what you said back there about London?

You know, sometimes I feel like another box you have to check off

so you look like you've done okay.

I'm not some prick who doesn't respect your career

just because you don't make as much money as I do.

You know that, right?

I think you are so talented and so creative,

and I love that about you.

It's one of the reasons I want us to go to London.

I think you are limited where you are, and frankly, you're better than it.

All I have to show for the past nine years of my career

is 15,000 ways to touch a cock.

I never would've gotten the offer from The New York Times

if LoLo hadn't grandfathered me in.

You got the offer?

Yeah.

What is it? Where is it?

Is this right?

- Yeah. - It's not even a 10% raise.

It's The New York Times. I wouldn't be going there for the money.

Well, this makes me think they don't value you at all.

It's not personal. There's no money left in publishing anymore.

Well, exactly.

Listen, you go to London and get your MFA. You can write a book.

Something that's yours, that you have equity in.

Wouldn't you rather be known for something you've created

than this thing that happened to you so long ago?

No.

No, I... I wanna be remembered for what really happened to me.

I want vindication. It's all I think about.

I know you've thought long and hard about doing this documentary,

and I'm not saying you shouldn't do it,

but Dean has taken this very bad thing that happened to him

and done something good with it. People respect that and they respect him.

You know what I'm saying.

Yeah.

Yeah, it's the blow-job editor versus the gun-safety savior.

No, God, of course. Ugh!

Oh God, if there was just a way for me to write about more important issues

for a place of worldwide influence and acclaim,

then maybe, just maybe,

people can hold me in the same esteem as Dean.

Gosh, if there was just a way for me to work at this elusive place.

You're so angry. I can't talk to you when you're this angry.

Ugh! It's so hot in here.

I'm gonna walk the last few blocks.

Sir, can you please just keep driving?

Shit, Peyton.

Yo, holy fuck, you're still at it? What the...

Fuck off, Liam.

We'll hang out, okay?

What the fuck?

Oh my God, I can't watch.

Come on, someone do something.

No, that's you, buddy.

Aw. Holy fuck.

Shit.

Take care of your girl, Liam.

Hey.

Aw.

Hey. Come on, I got you.

Ow! Ow...

Ow!

Ow!

Hi. Um, Dean...

- I just really need some water. - You...

You should really get some sleep.

Yeah, I'm just really thirsty.

Uh... Dean!

Wait, stop!

Wait! Wait! Wait! Stop! Stop! Stop!

Stop! Stop! Stop! Wait. Wait.

- Dean, wait. Stop! Stop! - Stop! Please.

Stop! Stop! Wait! Wait, no!

Please! Please!

Please, stop! Stop!

Oh, fuck!

Motherfucker.

Finny!

Shit.

Finny.

Fuck! Fucking crazy ass bitch! Get out!

Hot in here! Fucking piece of shit! Agh!

What the fuck? Fucking ass bitch! Get out!

- Get her out! - Honey, get out!

Don't fucking touch me!

Fuck you!

Don't fucking touch me!

You're so fucking nuts.

Excuse me.

Do you know how to get to the Brentley School from here?

TifAni?

Hey. Hey.

Hey. What happened?

Hey, what happened?

TifAni, what happened?

You can come in.

They're a little big but they're clean.

Look, can I please,

please take you to the hospital now?

- I gotta call your mother. - No.

Look, you... you can't be here.

It... it's not...

Look, I can get into a lot of trouble.

Thanks.

Dean is hoping to meet with you.

No fucking way.

- Just hear me out. - No.

He's willing to take back his claim that you're involved in the shooting.

He's going to vindicate you, Ani.

He wants to sit down with you on camera and apologize.

Ugh. I hate your soft voice so much.

Sorry. Um...

What...

Why?

Maybe you have some sense?

For fuck's sake, will you just put this guy out of his misery?

My money's on the gang rape.

There. I said it. No going back now.

I've gathered enough to know that that event

was framed as something that you participated in. I'm...

I'm so sorry, Ani. It makes me sick.

Yeah, no participation trophy for me.

TifAni... Uh, I mean, Ani,

if you wanna do this,

it'd be easy enough to tack on an extra day to the schedule.

I'll make sure to keep you both separate until you give me permission.

You'll call the shots.

What's the point of being at your fighting weight if you're not gonna fight?

Okay.

And your safety and comfort is our highest priority.

We do not wanna see you re-traumatized.

We could look into getting you a victims' advocate.

Sorry. I should probably ask if you prefer "survivor" to "victim."

- I know that's a big thing these days. - Oh.

Survivor? Gross.

So victim then?

Yeah.

Victim.

Mmm.

Definitely this one.

It's less oaky. I hate oak.

Hmm. Gosh, Mom. I never once wondered if I was adopted.

Did you know it's broo-sket- ta, not broo-shet-ta?

TifAni taught me that. She and Nell lived in Rome for a time.

Keep it cute, FaNelli.

That must have been a wonderful experience for you girls.

Oh, I just love Italy.

And from London, it's just such a short flight.

Oh!

You didn't tell me. You made a decision about London?

Mom, no, we didn't make a decision yet, remember?

Oh, I apologize. I misunderstood.

Uh, um...

I'll be... I'll be just a minute.

Okay.

This is nice. Cheers.

And now here to comment is Dean Barton.

Every day that Congress fails to work together

to create universal background checks

is another day that a student risks their life

just trying to get an education.

TifAni?

It's outright negligence.

What are you doing?

- We owe these kids so much more. - I came to check on you.

Why?

My little bambina.

Really starting to freak out about seeing Dean.

Right.

What if when I see him in a wheelchair, I can't be angry anymore?

I don't wanna feel bad for him.

It's so much cleaner if I could just hate him.

Oh.

I say we go out there and get Drunken Ship-faced.

Hmm?

Come on. You're about to read Dean Barton for fucking filth.

Where's the registry for that?

Where's the blushing bride?

Jesus Christ, how am I gonna get through this?

Here comes the bride. Finally.

Hey, lady. Oh...

Hallsy's Luke's poorly preserved aunt

who ceased to be a lady 20 tennis-pro dicks ago.

Why is everyone so anti-oak these days?

Ooh! I have a buttery chard just for you.

About the only thing California's good for.

And do me one more solid, don't sit me with the Gilmartins.

- What'd you do this time? - I didn't do anything.

They're being snowflakes over the new park.

No offense, you two.

Well, it will be very loud for them.

They've agreed to put in soundproof buffers.

What kind of a park needs a soundproof buffer?

A shooting park, Dinah.

Can't blame gun owners for wanting to enjoy their hobby responsibly.

As a woman, I feel more empowered when I'm shooting a gun

than I do bitching about every little thing.

Okay, I'm gonna go inside. Would anybody like some water?

I'll take one. No ice.

Don't worry, I won't sit you with the Gilmartins.

You'll be at table 12

with the rest of the flabby cougars where you belong.

- TifAni. - Oh, boy.

Oh my God.

Oh fuck.

She's...

She's really tired.

It's been a long week, so...

Ani!

Stop!

Ani.

Ow! Goddamn it!

Ani!

Stop!

Damn it.

Do you like your life, TifAni?

Yes, Mom, I have built a very nice life for myself.

How much do you make in a year?

What?

How much do you make in a year, honey?

Uh... 80K.

Sometimes a little bit more if I guest-edit a brand extension, okay?

Okay, so let's be generous. Let's call it 90K.

How much did you pay for that watch?

You don't think I noticed you got the Cartier?

Don't you know it's gauche to ask how much something costs, Mom?

Oh, I know. I know you'd think I didn't do anything with my life.

But you know, when you're spending $1,500 a month to exercise,

and your mortgage is $12,000...

This 90k that I was able to squirrel away from alimony payments

so I could stay home with you and not have to pay for childcare?

I put that money towards your education,

and that put you in rooms where you met a guy like Luke.

And I am... I am doing my best here

to try to connect with the Harrisons. It's not easy.

And now with this documentary?

- What's that have to do with this? - Everything.

Everything, TifAni. Everything.

You think you're embarrassed of me now, don't try to say that you're not,

imagine what it's gonna be like when they find out about what happened.

They had boys.

They didn't have a girl who developed early

and was hell-bent on taking risks.

They can't imagine what that was like.

I did everything in my power to protect you.

I did. I did.

That's why I had all those rules in place that I did.

But you didn't wanna follow those.

That was your choice.

So fine, you know?

Just... just... just...

At least just leave my name out of it.

I did what any half-decent mother would have done.

I did.

You'll find out someday.

You'll find out how hard it is.

Okay.

Although if you keep pushing Luke away, maybe you won't.

At the very least, you won't have someone else's pile of money to stand on

while you call me gauche.

Excuse me.

TifAni.

Wait.

I'm sorry.

My mom asked me what a cougar is.

Ah!

Okay.

Ow!

- Babe? - Yeah?

Can we just do it the nice way?

Yeah.

Okay.

Okay.

I can't do this. Please get off me.

Please just get off of me. I'm sorry. I can't...

Oh my God.

I may not say everything right,

but when I try to be respectful, it's like you can't handle it.

Thanks for taking me.

You only have a 30% chance of getting pregnant,

but it's good to be on the safe side.

Oh.

Never heard that before.

Liam?

I just wanted you to know, I didn't mean to hook up with anybody else.

Dude, it's no big deal.

But I also feel like...

I think I was raped.

Are you insane?

Are you actually insane? Like...

Do you even know what rape is?

Why would you even say that to me?

I'm sorry. I... I don't think that about you.

- Finny! - There she is.

Finny, if I'm still hungover, you're definitely still hungover.

Hey, come on, come on, come on. Let's go.

Milady.

You are an animal, FaNelli.

Hey, you two... gotta step it up.

- You are such a loser. - Loser?

- I think that was your job last night. - Did you win any games at all?

- Yeah, I won two. Yeah. - I don't think so.

I mean, if I'd lost as much as you had, then I would have left long ago.

Oh, come on.

Luke?

"Oh, honey, why do you have a cut on your lip?"

"Hmm. It's 'cause I'm betrothed to a sexual deviant, Mother."

TifAni, I've told Headmaster Mayer

about the events with the three boys this weekend.

Are you talking about reporting this, TifAni?

How does that work? What happens?

The boys will be questioned by the police.

It will need to be disclosed on their college applications, potentially.

If you decide to go that route,

you need to be absolutely sure what you're saying,

and that can be difficult to determine with so much alcohol involved.

The situation has been obfuscated.

There was no obfuscation, Headmaster Mayer.

She said no.

Is that true? Did you say no?

I-I don't know.

I don't know.

I didn't want to.

I said, "Ow."

I just remember always saying, "Ow."

I remember screaming at Dean. Uh...

I tried to push Liam off of me,

but he thought I was, like, touching his face so he kissed me.

He was really drunk too.

- What... What are you doing? - I'm calling your mom.

Legally, I can't contact the police regarding a minor

unless the guardian is informed.

Stop.

Stop.

No.

No.

I changed my mind.

Mr. Larson got fired.

They said he shouldn't have let us leave the school dance.

He's the scapegoat. Dean's fucking untouchable.

Come in.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey!

Um, that... that belonged to his dad.

Yeah. Legacy to Columbia and a surefire way out of this hellscape

is the only thing he ever gave me.

- Want some? - No.

I can't breathe.

Should we tell her?

Tell me what?

Um...

- Ar-Arthur, can we... can we just not? - Come on, we're among friends.

Two summers ago, Dean and Peyton showed up

to Kelsey Quick's eighth grade graduation party.

They were all 16 and fucked up and, you know, like...

- I thought that they were being nice. - Oh, they were not being nice.

They said they wanted to smoke up with us.

You always leave that part out to make me look like I'm a fucking idiot for going.

Going where?

Well, into the woods, where Peyton pinned Ben to the ground,

and Dean took a shit on Ben's chest.

I heard that he ate a burrito that day in preparation.

Fuck you, Arthur! You're such a fucking prick, man.

Yeah, okay. Then he ran straight to Suburban Square,

went to the Rite Aid, bought a pack of razors,

and slit his wrists in the bathroom.

Is that really true?

Yeah.

What? He obviously didn't cut deep enough to do any real damage.

His parents sent him off to make macaroni art for the rest of the summer.

Why are you like that to him? You're acting like you're mad at him.

- I am fucking mad at him. - Why?

He didn't do anything about it.

I mean, it's gotta be a crime, biological warfare.

He just wanted it dropped.

And now here it is happening again,

and here you are,

keeping that runway free and clear for it to keep happening.

My mom can't know.

She would hate me.

Okay. Yeah, that's what everybody thinks.

My ass got suspended, my mommy still thinks the sun shines out of it.

No. You don't understand what she's like.

Yeah, I really don't.

What kind of mother doesn't strap those babies into a cable knit?

Baby, check this out.

Oh good, another cable knit.

- You like this for the first dance, right? - No.

- What? I thought we agreed? - No. No, we never agreed.

- We sure did. - Oh my God!

We talked about this. Oh my God!

- Oh my God. Okay, what's next? - And then...

Okay, well, this is the list.

- Wedding Playlist Party. - Okay.

No, do not play.

- No? - Do not play.

Definitely do not play.

- You don't like this song? - No, I...

I do like the song, but the guy's a pedophile.

- You can still like the song though. - Right, I do like the song.

What are you not getting?

You think what you just said makes any sense?

- Turn it off. - No.

Turn off the song...

Luke, turn off the fucking song!

Fine.

Happy?

Aw. It's my two favorite people.

You tell the headmaster how much you loved it?

That's so cute. That's adorable.

Damn, you really do have a wide load.

Oh, thanks, I've been doing squats.

Stop. Stop, let's go.

- Oh my God. - You're cute when you're mad.

Come on, hit me. No one's gonna stop you. No one ever stops you.

Oh, fuck him up!

It's all your fault!

Come on!

Shit.

Dean, go. Go! Get the fuck out of here.

Go.

Oh, fuck.

- Go. Get out. - What is going on?

Ow!

You didn't know it was Mrs. Hurst. Why can't you just apologize?

Oh, like you did? And everything is just peachy keen for you now?

Oh, come on, it's better than getting expelled.

Think you're gonna get into Columbia now?

Okay, kindly adjust your tone, young lady.

I was standing up for my friend.

I know.

Thank you.

I don't want you to thank me,

I want you to act like you have a smidge of dignity.

Just a tiny microscopic smidge.

I mean, you have to have that much at least, right?

You can't be mad at me. I didn't ask you to do any of this.

You should be mad at you.

You had a chance to take him down, and you didn't

'cause you're so fucking desperate to redeem yourself.

- You sound so fucking stupid right now. - Yeah, I'm the stupid one.

I'm not gonna take Dean down. It doesn't fucking work like that, Arthur.

You apologized to Liam, for fuck's sake.

You apologized to your own fucking rapist.

I mean, seriously, how can you live with yourself?

Fuck you.

TifAni, wait, no.

TifAni, wait. TifAni.

Here. You're such a fucking loser.

Hey, babe, I just wanna say good luck today.

I know you're nervous, but it's gonna be okay.

You deserve closure on this.

Love you. Bye.

Ani, you ready?

Just up here.

Uh, if you need anything, you can feel free to tell me.

Uh...

- Set? - Set.

Rolling.

Okay, uh, Ani, you ready?

Can you tell us your personal experience of that tragic day?

Whenever you're ready.

You know, I... I always thought

the most vulnerable you'll ever see a person is from behind.

Like, you can autopsy every pore, every hair,

like they're defenseless.

I always thought it was cute

that the back of Dean's neck had blonde hairs

when everywhere else was dark and coarse, when he jumped.

Tif! Tif! Tif!

Come on! Come on! Come on!

Olivia!

Come on!

Go, go, go!

He had a gun. I saw him.

- Okay, okay, okay. - Who has a phone?

Phone? Okay, okay, okay.

Ben!

No bars!

You're sad about that.

Look sad.

She didn't deserve that.

Witnesses claim that Ben said...

Hey, Tif.

As though the two of you had an understanding.

Is that true?

Yes.

What was that understanding?

I wanted revenge too.

That he was a victim too.

Hey, Peyton.

Do you wanna go to the woods, man? Hmm?

- Smoke some pot, man? - Ben.

Ben, I am so, so sorry...

Ben?

Ben!

What were you feeling when he walked away?

Was it just this total collective relief?

You know... we all came together at that moment,

'cause we... we knew that we had to help Peyton.

Oh my God.

- Hey. - No. No, no.

How is this happening?

How is this happening?

We need to get out of here.

What the fuck's that gonna do?

We need to get out of here.

- Up or down? - The old dorm rooms are up.

Would he have gone up?

I vote down.

- Go, go! Come on! Run! Run! - Go, go, go!

Come on!

Hurry, come on!

You didn't hold the door open for Liam Ross.

I wanna give you the chance to explain why.

Because I wasn't going to put my life on the line for one of my rapists.

I guess I wasn't brave enough.

Oh my God. Oh my God! Dean! Dean! Dean!

Dean.

Ladies.

There you are.

Arthur.

Beth. Get out of here. I like you.

You...

Girl with spaghetti for a spine.

You know you want to.

Is it so bad that I did?

Please.

Fuck!

You know, the look on his face, like... he was so confused,

like I was doing it to the wrong person.

You know, to this day, I can't hold a knife in my hand

without seeing his face.

My goodness, Ani.

Thank you.

It's going to be fine.

You did a brave thing, TifAni.

Please don't say that.

I can't believe she showed up. So disgusting.

Can you believe that?

I didn't realize I walked into the funeral with a target on my back.

Dean's version of events didn't exactly match mine.

And Dean's version of events was?

That he didn't wanna be my boyfriend

after I slept with him and his two best friends.

That I was jilted.

Due to TifAni having relationships with more than one of these boys...

That I got my revenge by helping Ben and Arthur plan a massacre.

Hell have no fury like a woman scorned and whatnot.

Let me escort you back to your car.

Beth?

And for the grand finale, we were all gonna shoot ourselves.

Although only Ben managed to do that.

You know, Dean was never gonna walk again,

so who would dare call him a liar?

Is it true?

I had no idea Arthur was gonna do something like that...

Not that part, the part about the boys!

I didn't want to, Mom.

- I was drunk. They're lying. - Oh my God, TifAni.

This is why I say no drinking!

Well, I'm gonna call a lawyer as soon as I get home.

Oh, what are people gonna say?

You're never charged as an accomplice. But...

What about your claims against the boys?

Why didn't you file charges back then?

I just thought they weren't worth pursuing.

Mom.

- Mom... - No, TifAni.

No, no.

You disgust me.

I'm sorry.

You are not the daughter that I raised.

You're lucky you have a mother who got you a lawyer and supported you.

Not everyone has that.

Hmm. Yes.

Very lucky.

Luckiest girl alive right here.

Do you wish your mother did more to help you?

I wish she hadn't looked at me like I was rode hard and put away wet.

Ani, do you wanna say more about that, or should I move on?

- Aaron, what the fuck? - Hi, Finny.

I swear, he's not supposed to be here until tomorrow.

- You need to get outta here. - Wait.

Finny, please. Just give me five minutes.

What are you doing here? This is not what we talked about.

Ani, stay. Ani, don't go. He should be the one to go. I'm getting him outta here.

- Finny. - No, no. Don't worry about it.

- Ani. - Please.

Ani, wait.

Ani, wait. Ani. Don't let Dean run you out of here.

Think about all the women you're gonna help by telling your story.

You're standing up for them too.

All the women will be fine.

My mother insisted I stick it out at Brentley.

It was a lonely two years.

My classmates and I had survived this life-changing event

that few people could understand.

They could lean on each other.

But I had no one.

My senior year, we took a field trip to New York City,

where I had this... experience.

I don't need to impress him.

So do you know when the samples are actually arriving?

- You okay? - Sorry.

No, the samples have to be there by Friday.

Yes, Friday. Did you not schedule it?

I'd never seen a woman like that before.

A woman who threatened people on the phone,

who could buy herself expensive things,

who cut a path through New York City simply because she looked like

she had more important places to be than anyone else.

I just had to get to that, I decided...

And no one could ever hurt me again.

Oh, come on.

- Who wants another one? - Yeah, grab me one.

One, two, three, four more?

- Yes, sir. Thank you. - Here we go, boys.

There it is. I told you.

- You're home. - Yeah!

Yeah.

I left.

I'm done.

It just, um...

It just didn't feel right.

You know, I'm thinking about actually writing something myself.

Get it out of my system that way.

I think that's really smart.

Uh...

You want a drink?

Martini, straight up, three olives, no vermouth.

- Vodka, olives coming right up. - Okay.

Exactly. I didn't say that.

Thank you for your service.

Please don't be mad, but I think I'm moving to London.

You think?

Well, guess what? I am mad, so deal with it.

What's that?

I've written something.

You think The Times would want it?

You know what I wish I knew 38 years ago?

It's a lot easier to be angry with the guy.

My high school boyfriend...

could be creative.

I'm sorry, LoLo.

It's all right. There's no need to make a scene.

Your guys, I mean, they rot in the ground or whatever,

but the people who love you,

who failed you so miserably,

stop trying to protect them with this vague half-assery,

and you might actually have something there.

But for now, let me be perfectly clear,

an approximation of honesty

doesn't make the cut at the paper of record.

So, you know, take another swing at it.

Write it like no one will ever read it.

Not Luke, not your musty in-laws, definitely not your parents.

That is how you write something worth reading.

I mean, no one's making you write about it.

I mean, go to London. Go live your life with Luke.

Just decide something.

Decide.

I'm... I'm trying.

Look, I'll make it very simple for you.

You just say what it is that you want,

not what everyone else wants,

and then you do that.

If you tell anyone what I just told you...

I won't.

No, about it being 38 years since I was a teenager,

I will hunt you down and make you eat a carb.

I had a choice to make on that day.

I could blame the world for what happened to me,

or I could find the opportunity.

Every challenge, every heartache,

every tragedy in life

offers an opportunity to do something different,

to do something kind.

I told you. So inspiring, right?

I haven't heard a word he's said.

- ...no one can ever take away that choice. - Shh.

Look, I could admit that I lied about your involvement in the shooting.

I was young a-and scared, confused.

People will understand that.

But... I don't know how the hell I'm gonna explain what happened with us.

I have a wife.

Three, two...

Daughters.

Mmm. Right at the buzzer.

And this would destroy them.

But me, I was fair game?

I was just trying to get out ahead of you.

I was scared that you'd tell the cops about that night at my house.

Plus, I was stuck in this, and you weren't.

So I was so angry at you.

Do you know the difference between me and someone like you, Dean?

Between me and an Arthur?

Because I was angry too, so fucking angry you wouldn't believe it.

But my anger is like carbon monoxide.

It's odorless, tasteless, colorless, and completely toxic

but only to me.

See, I don't take my anger out on anyone other than my fucking self.

Shh.

I didn't mean for it to happen like that.

I was... drunk, you know?

I didn't even understand that that is what I was doing.

Not when I was crying?

Not when I was begging you to wait. Wait.

Wait, like we were gonna... we were gonna talk about it, figure it out.

Do you know that every time I start to feel

just a little bit good about myself, I remember that I begged...

and there that goes.

If you talk about that night, I'll deny it...

and I'll double down on my claim that you planned it with Arthur and Ben.

And there's a lot of people that are gonna believe me.

Are you seriously trying to threaten me right now?

I'm trying to offer you a deal.

Okay?

You don't talk about what happened that night.

And I'll say you had nothing to do with the shooting.

There it is.

Look, I know I was an asshole back then,

but I have made it my mission to make up for that every day.

Does that... Does that not count for anything?

Thank you.

See, I was a victim too...

but no one ever treated me like one.

So let's just stop with your self-pitying bullshit.

Do you know how many times I've said the word "rape" in my life?

I know, I fucking hate that word too. Makes me wanna peel my skin off.

I wonder if you've ever used it,

even once.

Probably not.

Probably not.

So I'm gonna sit here and watch you squirm

while you make it a part of your vocabulary.

Fine.

Fine.

You win.

I, uh...

I raped you.

Okay?

It's really just an honor to meet you.

Um, thank you so much. You're such an inspiration.

So I'm gonna sit here and watch you squirm

while you make it a part of your vocabulary.

Fine. You win.

I, uh...

I raped you.

Need a lift?

Good riddance, TifAni FaNelli,

welcome, Ani Harrison.

You belong here.

You do.

I'm sorry. One second.

One moment.

Yeah. Of course.

Okay.

Yeah. Thank you.

Oh my God!

- Um, I'll... I'll catch up with you. - Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey.

Um...

Can we go talk?

This is running in The New York Times?

Yeah.

How could you not tell me about this?

I'm sorry.

I guess I... I just don't understand. I...

I always thought you had moved on from all this.

I admired you for that. I thought you were so tough.

So tough that I try to skip the part where I hurt about this?

No. Until I do that, I'm just a fraud.

Fine, but can't you work that out privately?

Do you have to get into the nitty-gritty details for the whole world?

Those guys... were going around making fun of the shape of my pubic hair.

They were making fun of the sounds I was making.

- So yes, the nitty-gritty matters to me. - They're dead.

And one of them is in a wheelchair. Haven't they paid for their mistakes?

- Their mistakes? - They fucked up. I'm agreeing with you.

No, no, no. A... A fuck-up is when you take your parent's car without permission

and... and scratch the paint.

A fuck-up doesn't even begin to encompass what they did to me.

Ani, it's our fucking rehearsal dinner.

How are we talking about this right now?

God! You used to be so different. You used to be so fun.

- Fun? - Yes, fun.

We used to have fun together. I miss that.

I don't know if I'm fun.

I don't know what's me

and what part I invented to make people like me.

God, I used to be so proud of that. I-I...

I thought it was this chameleon who was so much smarter than everyone.

So much smarter that I don't even know a thing about myself.

Hey, hey. I don't believe that.

We can get back there. Hey, stop.

We can get back there.

I love you. You love me. We can figure it out.

No.

Do you remember the time you said you felt like a box

that I just checked off?

I do love you...

But I've been using you.

I resent you.

It's not... It's not fair.

You're not the one who hurt me, but I... but I take it out on you.

- I've never felt like you resent me. - Because I'm like a wind-up doll.

Turn my key, and I'll tell you exactly what you wanna hear.

I have denied myself and denied myself.

I'm fine.

I'm not hurt.

And it has... it has built up this rage inside of me.

Look, I... I should've faced up to all of this sooner.

I... I just think that I need to do it now

without worrying about what you or anyone else thinks about it.

Is this really happening right now?

It's like LoLo said,

an approximation of honesty won't make the cut.

And that's what I had with Luke.

I hate that I hurt him,

but this is where I belong.

This is what I always wanted.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't suffering

from a mild case of phantom limb syndrome.

But maybe things are brighter without it.

"If you read one thing today,

it should be Ani FaNelli's essay in New York Times Magazine."

"I sent it to every woman I know, and so should you!"

Oh, Dean Barton is so fucked!

Oh my God!

- Ooh! Get up! - I'm up!

You're going viral!

- Oh my God. - Ugh! Wait, do you... do you have any OJ?

Yeah, I keep the Sunny D in the side door.

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

She's a funny writer girl.

Look it!

Look at this!

You look amazing.

Ah! I'm so proud of you.

I just finished reading your piece and am utterly haunted.

Thank you for speaking up.

From someone who has always felt like no one would listen to her anyway.

I cried reading your essay.

Thank you for putting it out into the world.

I was also assaulted by a guy I thought was a friend.

Hearing your story gives me hope that one day I can tell mine too.

I was raped while completely unconscious.

The lines about coming to

hit me so hard.

I never told anyone,

not even my husband.

When I sat down to write this essay, the goal was to avenge my reputation,

maybe stick it to the people who hurt me.

But it's become so much more than that.

- Ani. So nice to meet you. - So much more than me.

Of course. Thank you.

Now, I read your op-ed...

It's about the importance of all of us speaking freely,

even if people wanna silence us.

So that we can become the kind of women our younger selves would admire.

I'm hearing from women who have never shared their stories,

from women who have carried this horrible thing

with them alone for 38 years,

and I just hope that no one has to ever do that again.

I hope that people feel compelled to share their stories,

to talk about what happened to them,

and to know that you have nothing to be ashamed of.

Wow.

Ani, thank you so much for being here.

- Of course. - Truly inspiring story.

Thank you.

TifAni FaNelli, right?

Yeah.

Sarah Gardener. I cover public health for Bloomberg.

Okay.

Gun control is under my domain.

I've covered Dean Barton's career quite extensively.

He's helped a lot of people over the years.

Let's hope your 15 minutes of fame will too.

Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

Excuse me. I'm so sorry. I...

I would love to stay in touch, but I already forgot your name.

- It's Sarah Gard... - That's okay.

I'll just remember you as the woman I told to go fuck herself on 5th Avenue.

Gotta work on that delivery, FaNelli,

but fuck that felt good.