Trixie was everywhere.

Wherever Katya went, there she was.

Not just when they were on set or whenever they had a schedule together as a couple. No, Trixie was there even if they were miles apart.

Her photo was plastered outside every record store.

Her clothes were discussed in every magazine.

Her songs were played on every street corner.

But that wasn't all, her corner in Katya's mind was so well-established that the actress kept seeing Trixie in every blonde that entered the café by her apartment, her honey-brown eyes shining up from every cup of coffee.

It annoyed Katya to no end.

She wasn't like this. This wasn't like her. She hadn't ever been stuck on someone, always rushing from one hookup to the next. But this time everything felt different. Trixie haunted her every waking moment, and she couldn't even get closure because they were after all supposed to be madly in love both on screen and off.

That was the worst torture, Katya thought. The feeling of holding Trixie so close, of kissing her lips, of caring for her with every fibre in her being, and yet knowing that none of it was real.

Katya wondered if Trixie ever felt the same. Did the singer ever feel a pull on her heart whenever she was reminded that it was all just pretend? Did Trixie even give it a second thought?

Did she ever think about Katya at all?

And if she did, how many things did the singer think about before she got to her?

She felt pathetic there she sat, spending her evening on her couch debating ifs and maybes. The bar was calling her name, the sweet, numbing comfort of a drink seeming like her salvation. It wouldn't last, the thoughts would be back in the morning, but even temporary relief seemed too tempting to reject in that moment.

"Fuck it." Katya said as she grabbed her leather jacket and walked over towards the door. She slid on a pair of high heeled ankle boots and quickly headed out into the cold, dark night before she could change her mind.

She arrived at her favorite club fifteen minutes later. There was a long line of people, all desperate to get in, but Katya didn't pay them a second thought. She walked straight towards the entrance, knowing no one would ever deny her access.

You would think she had a spotlight on her as she walked through the crowd. People just couldn't help but stare at her as she moved under the warm glow of purple lights, you'd think she was an ethereal being by the way the onlookers reacted to her. Katya loved the power she held over people in situations like this, and it was exactly what she needed after all the unsettling feelings and all the thoughts of uncertainty she had been plagued lately.

"Can I buy you a drink?" A woman asked.

She was pretty enough with her long, straight honey-blonde hair and bright green eyes. There wasn't anything special about her though, she was just another desperate girl who'd sell the story of the night she'd share with Katya in a heartbeat.

Perhaps that was what made her seem so enticing.

Perhaps that was why Katya let her dance close against her.

Perhaps that was why she invited her into her bed.

Sleeping with the girl seemed simple and familiar. There was nothing new or surprising about the situation, and that felt safe. Katya knew the media-storm it would start, it was another Zamolodchikova Scandal which was bound to be front-page news in the morning. But that too felt familiar.

She was in control.

It was her show, not Trixie's.

But in the back of her mind she could still hear that voice inside her screaming no while her mouth was saying yes. In her head it was Trixie's name that was called out into the night, Trixie's lips that were kissing her skin, Trixie's body that moved against her own.

If only it had been.

Maybe then, guilt wouldn't be eating her up from the inside.

Maybe then, she wouldn't have woken up to yelling reporters.

Maybe then, her phone wouldn't have had a message from a heartbroken blonde.