"Just some background, because I know you don't know anything about my life...since I ensured that you didn't know anything about my life. And also, you're going to be hearing a lot of shit that you probably won't like, so just...try not to interrupt me too much, or we're going to be here until the sun comes up."

Rebecca nodded silently.

"My parents are divorced, which I guess is kind of common knowledge. My dad remarried that stupid model that you set up a photoshoot with, Lydia Abrams, but she goes by her maiden name when she models. When my dad married Lydia, we had a falling out. I hated him for screwing up his marriage to my mom and then for immediately deciding to marry someone closer to my age than his. It's disgusting, having your father being attracted to someone close to your own age. Makes you think he'd be attracted to you if you weren't his daughter. But, anyway, I met the woman once right before they tied the knot and then never saw her again, until you were kind enough to intervene."

Rebecca remembered the instruction to not interrupt, and kept her retort to herself.

"So, fast forward a few years. I'm at Clemson last September, beginning of my sophomore year, life is great. Lyla convinced me to go see some motivational speaker that was coming to campus, and I tagged along with her and Doug. The guy who was speaking was definitely attractive, but also older than me by a long shot. He talked about his wife in his set, but no kids. Cool speech, didn't think much of it, until I went to the bar across town that night. My friends had left because they were lightweights, and I was still chilling, trying to find someone to cover my tab and maybe stick up for me if the bartender figured out that my ID was fake. And then I saw him.

"It was the guy who gave the big speech, the married one...Hank Wilcox. He was sitting at the bar by himself, just making small talk with the bartender. So, I walked over and let him know that I was at his show and he was a pretty good speaker. We continued to talk, he bought me a few drinks, and eventually I agreed to go back to his hotel room. I honestly kind of forgot about the wife from the set, and we were both a little tipsy, and it just...happened. Like something out of a movie where you're absolutely screaming at the dude to not cheat on his wife with the college kid, but he does it anyway, and then you're pissed off and hate the guy for the remainder of the movie.

"We kept seeing each other for the next eight months. Honestly, it was longer than any relationship I had ever kept, and it was probably because of the secrecy of the whole thing. I loved it, and we both kind of fed off of it. I tried not to think about his wife when I went to bed at night, and it worked. We would meet halfway between Tampa and Clemson whenever he could get away from home with a decent excuse, and I told my friends I was sleeping with a guy from a different school. No one got suspicious. And then, everything went to shit when he told me he wanted to leave his wife for me."

Rebecca resisted every urge to roll her eyes. Of course a thirty-something year old man would leave his wife for twenty year old Kennedy after a few months of sleeping with her. Only Kennedy Abrams.

Why was Rebecca slightly jealous?

"That did it for me. The second he said that, it was like every single ounce of basic human decency that had left my body for the previous eight months came rushing back. I remembered my parents and how my dad left my mom for a much younger woman, and how it impacted me as a kid. Hank didn't have any kids, but still...I didn't want to do that to another family. So I ended it that night, drove back to Clemson, and tried to put the entire thing out of my mind.

"But, Hank wasn't too happy about my breaking it off. He started calling me relentlessly, and when I finally picked up, he told me that he would be pulling all of his donations from my father's plastic surgery business. I was absolutely mortified at the fact that he even knew my father to begin with, as that had never come up while we were together, and I told him I didn't care if he did that or not. Evidently, after I said that, he called my father—an apparent old neighborhood friend from when my father moved away from my mother—and informed him of the fact that I had stolen money from Hank after meeting him at a meet and greet, and that he would not be able to continue supplying my father's practice with donations. Obviously, my father didn't know that I had been sleeping with his old neighbor and assumed that Hank was telling the truth about my stealing from him.

"My father started calling me constantly, and employed my brother to call whenever he could as well. It was a disaster. I didn't know how to tell them that I hadn't stolen any money, but I had actually been sleeping with a married man for eight months, and he was angry that I wouldn't let him leave his wife for me.

"I moved halfway through this past summer, ensuring that Hank had absolutely no way to find me. I blocked his number and I blocked him on every social media platform imaginable, but he could still easily find me if he really wanted to—he was rich and could hire a team of people to find me if he so desired. I went to the police and tried to file a restraining order, but due to jurisdictional issues and the fact that no one actually believed my story about a well-known philanthropist stalking me, I couldn't get one. But Hank got angrier, and eventually he found me when I was walking into the gym at the beginning of August. He threatened me and tried to force me into his car to go back to Tampa with him, but I refused and ran into the gym and straight into the girl's locker room. I stayed there for two hours, until I was sure he had to have left. I stopped going to that gym and started using the one at Clemson instead.

"I was terrified about what he could do to me, and about what he was planning on doing. I was terrified that he was going to find out where I lived. He was obsessive, and awful, and he was so much more powerful and believable than I was. So, I started to formulate a plan. It was an in-depth plan and required the accuracy of so many moving parts, but I thought I could do it. But..." she trailed off for a second, looking over at Rebecca. "...this is where I become an even bigger asshole than I already was. So, I...I'm sorry in advance. But I want you to know everything, because I guess you deserve as much."

'I guess,' Rebecca echoed in her head.

"I wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to be blamed in the end. I know how things are in this world—I knew that if I actually went through with hurting this man, then I would be the first suspect if our affair got out, and that the 'other woman' is rarely seen as a sympathetic character. For some reason the 'mistress' is to blame when the cheater is the one who made the marital vows. So, I couldn't be caught up in it, but I had to stop living in constant fear.

"So, I scrolled through Clemson's Instagram page to find someone who I could essentially manipulate into going along with this plan, unknowingly. And you were, I'm sorry...the absolute perfect person for it. I found your Instagram through Clemson's followers list, you were already following me to begin with, and your page was so unbelievably sad—"

"There's no need to be that cruel about it,"

"Sorry." Kennedy nodded, "But I just thought you looked like someone who would jump at the chance to have a friend with influence. So I asked around about you, but nobody knew who you were. I eventually found your stupid roommate, the one who was obsessed with my parties...Kaylie. I overheard her saying she was annoyed with her new roommate, Rebecca, leaving her moving boxes around the apartment and going to the gym instead of unpacking them. So, I staked out the gym for a little while until I figured out your schedule. And then you happened to fall off of the treadmill right when I was walking past you, and I didn't even have to come up with some bogus reason to talk to you...you handed me the reason on a silver platter.

"You know the rest of that part. We became friends because I consistently invited you to things and you agreed to come along for the ride. And my original plan in all of this wasn't to kill Hank, Rebecca, I need you to know that. I was planning on hitting him with my car, and that sounds insane, I know. But I was planning on scaring him. I was planning on showing him that I could take matters into my own hands as well. And I was planning on having you take the fall for everything. I made sure we drove your car to Tampa. I made sure that I was driving it, but that you were in the car with me. I had everything so perfectly planned out. But then I started to actually like you. You weren't a terrible person, you were kind of funny and a genuinely nice person to be around.

"I started to feel guilty, but I couldn't do anything about it. I had my plan and I was going through with it. Then we made Drew Parley, and that came out of absolutely nowhere, and had nothing to do with my plan, but just made you more dependent on me, which worked in my favor. It meant you wouldn't leave if I was rude to you, that you were so enamored with my world and this newfound 'fame' that you would do anything to keep it. I lured you into this plan, but Drew Parley sure as hell locked you into it. I used the account to get onto your laptop and install software to watch your search engines, just to make sure you didn't catch on to me. Everything was perfect.

"So, we went to Tampa, took our pictures, and then I texted Hank. I unblocked his number for the night and texted him saying to meet me on the road we found him on. Then I drove your car, 'got lost,' and went down that road. But it was dark, and I couldn't see him, and I started getting nervous about him not showing up or you realizing that we weren't really lost. The more nervous I got, the more I sped up, until when I finally saw Hank coming out of the shadows at the sound of the car, I was going way too fast and I killed him.

"The rest is kind of what you already know. I fixed your car and I didn't report you to the police like I originally planned to. We left Tampa and I tried not to worry about it. When the news broke about Hank's death, my father called me incessantly, accusing me of being the one who killed him because of the timing with the money being stolen. I denied everything over and over again until I told him I wouldn't speak to him again. And then you set up that stupid shoot with Lydia, and I realized that I didn't need you anymore. The plan had gone totally wrong, I was now a murderer, and I didn't need to keep reminding myself of that fact by hanging around with you. And then...then you talked to the cops, and now everything is absolutely ruined."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows.

"Excuse me? That entire story showcasing just how deranged of a human being you are, and you end it by telling me that I'm the reason your life's ruined?" she laughed in disbelief, "You had an affair, you broke it off, the guy was a total creep and the authorities wouldn't listen to you—which I'm sorry for, and that part is awful for you—but then instead of finding an alternative solution, or just going and dealing with it yourself, you found someone and became friends with them for the sole purpose of sending them to jail, realized that they weren't an awful person so you just went through with half of that part of the grand plan, ended up killing a guy—who, despite being the world's biggest creep and possible pedophile, probably shouldn't have been murdered in cold blood—covered it up, cut ties with the person you originally intended on blaming, cut off that person's entire source of income, and are now blaming that person for the fact that you got arrested for killing a man, which you in fact did do." Rebecca shook her head, the wind almost knocked out of her from reciting such a long run-on sentence, "You're a complete and utter sociopath."

Kennedy's eyes were cold and unfeeling as she looked at Rebecca.

"It's your prerogative, whether or not to tell the prosecution and the police what I told you, and in essence, whether or not to save my life. I'm not perfect; never claimed to be. But remember this, Rebecca Eaves: I may be confined by the terms of my bail, but I still have every capability of making your sad little life as miserable as humanly possible."

A/N: Soooo what do you guys think about Kennedy's version of events? Let me know in the comments!

-Katherine