*smiles (or bares her teeth, anyway)* Hahahaha. The fuck you say. Right now you get to smile for the fucking cameras and give the nice news people some interviews and go to after parties and drink champagne and hopefully do something scandalous enough that people will forget you're wearing a fucking wedding ring and neglected to mention it to your publicist. *propels you down a corridor, presumably headed toward the nice news people and their cameras* *still not making the connection* And quit obsessing about pretty boy. If you run into him you're just going to have to play nice ohhh sweet. Here comes that cunt Ackerman. Let me do the good gloating, 'kay?