Who: Trish and Jessica What | Where: Trish blackmails Max Tatum, Will Simpson is there, Jess shows up | Brooklyn Rating:Yellow: mentions of sexual abuse, extreme violence, etc
It had taken Trish days upon days to gather the courage to take her mother's information and go meet Max Tatum at his current movie set. It wasn't easy to prepare for seeing a former abuser, let alone when your purpose was to get him to confess what he did to you in order to blackmail him. Trish had no idea how Jess had felt upon seeing Kilgrave again, but she sort-of understood where all the drinking came from, when framed this way. Trish, too, wanted to take a tumble off the wagon just to take the edge off. The problem was that it was never just that easy. Or at least that was what she had been told in rehab. Slippery slopes, addictive personalities, so on and so forth.
It was a holy day of rest when Trish finally decided to put on her best Jessica-inspired clothes, complete with the leather jacket where one of the buttons fit perfectly with a phone camera lens and the distressed leather disguised entry ways for sound waves to be captured. It helped that Trish had a top of the line phone, obviously. She ought to have brought someone, but in the end, aside from Jessica there was no one she wanted to open up to this much.
The entire time, Trish felt sick. She had even taken some ginger to stave off nausea, but talking to the man, especially as he pretended he'd done nothing wrong even as her mom had basically pimped her out aged fifteen and he'd happily taken the pimping as a grown man already in his forties, was almost more than she could handle. If she had Jessica's security that she wouldn't break her hand, Trish would have punched his lights out herself. And worse.
But that would have defeated the purpose of revealing that she had filmed everything and that he had forty-eight hours to make with the Metro General connections and get her the records she required. He'd denied and kicked her out, but Trish was still hopeful.
And then, the adrenaline had passed.
By nightfall Trish was still hiding between actor trailers crying, shaking and not answering her phone. And then, as she ound herself wishing she had the superpower to not feel things for a while, there was a noise. Something metal, clattering to the ground. Trish decided to follow it, and came face-to-face with a tall hooded figure. Trish took her gun and pointed it at the figure.
"Don't come any closer." She warned. He said her name. And Trish fired.