Disclaimer: I don't think Lisi would actually dedicate a whole oneshot to one of her readers. So you can probably guess that I'm not her.

AN: Merry Christmahanakwanzaa people aren't perfect!
Events/Random Items: 2 fat cats,
I'm not loving you, the way I wanted to//What I had to do, had to run from you//I'm in love with you, but the vibe is wrong//And that haunted me, all the way home…
Love Lockdown, Kanye West

Bold Faced Lies

Last Will and Testament:

This is the part where I say that my days were becoming numbered, or something along the lines of that. They weren't. Not by a longshot – I hadn't lived out half of my life expectancy. And, before daddy can even hire out the best private investigators money can buy, let me just say this now: there is no need to investigate anything.

I wasn't murdered by anyone. I died on my own hands. While it might not have seemed that way, I was completely miserable.--

"Miss Block," Meena Phillips poked her head into the office, looking slightly abashed. "Your credit card company called, there wasn't any fraud. It's just that…well… your husband's been checking into a lot of hotels lately. And he's bought a lot of twin jewelry."

Massie Block looked up from sketches of dresses, which pretty much went from claw-your-eyes-out-with-sporks to burn-in-a-hellfire bad. Stressed out by the lack of ideas for the fall line she was supposed to manage, a malfunctioning laptop, and a faulty car engine. Already, Meena averted her eyes to the floor, not wanting to awaken her boss's wrath.

"So you went through the files?" Massie asked, kneading her temples and not bothering to look up at Meena.

"No, the bank teller told me because you were unreachable," Meena stammered. It was a lie, of course. The folder had fallen open when she'd tripped on her way out of an elevator. "But I just thought that I should tell you that it sounds like something's going on. And maybe there's a chance that…" Meena caught Massie's glare. "That I should mind my own business?"

"Exactly," Massie waved her assistant away. "Now get out of my office."

Meena dropped the files and hurried out, tail between her legs. Massie got up and slid her Japanese folding doors shut, and closed her blinds before she sat down behind her desk and cried.

When I was alone, pretty often, a lot of the time, I wondered why I even bothered anymore. There didn't seem to be anyone who appreciated me. I was constantly fighting with my husband, and I was beginning to get the impression that my own daughter didn't like spending time with me.

"Claire!" Yvette Hotz squealed out loud, rushing towards the door. She practically tackled her blond godmother into a violent hug, giggling as she was swept up into Claire's arms.

"Hey Mass," Claire Lyons smiled warmly, carrying Yvette towards her mother. Yvette buried her face into Claire's shoulder, sucking her thumb and asking if she would take her out for ice cream. "Did J tell you I was taking Yvette out to that Italian Ice place today?"

Massie, arms folded, shook her head no. As Yvette went on, singing a song from a commercial about an ice cream parlor, and Claire joined in; Massie felt a pang in her heart. She dug her nails into her arms, feeling useless. It was pretty obvious who Yvette would've rather had for a mother.

And so, in this document, I will leave all of my belongings and prized possessions to the people I held nearest to my heart. The rest of my items can be given away to charity, so at least I know I'll have done someone some good.

So, on with it.

To my husband Josh Hotz, I leave three quarters of the money in all of my bank accounts. Attached are the codes, numbers, and signatures you'll need. It doesn't matter anymore; money is no good for me here. Maybe instead of paying out of pocket, you can use this money next time you want to buy your ho a necklace. Well, would you look at that! Now, instead of going to those cheap Motel 8s, you can actually afford to take her to the Four Seasons! And you and Nikki Dalton can actually look a bit classier than you are.

J: hurry up, been thinking about u all day
N: have some patience will u? & u wouldn't b so desperate if u went out w/ ur wife more often
J: …
J: rm 213 on the left side; checked in as ur husband

As her husband switched the shower faucet off, Massie carefully closed out all of the text messages.

"Honey, I'm going out, working late at the firm."

Massie just nodded weakly. Unable to find the will to say anything, she didn't move from her spot on the couch. "Have a nice time." A bitter lie.

To my closest and best friend, Claire Lyons, I leave care for Yvette. She always looked up to you like a mother, but can you blame her? You practically taught her everything she knows. When you go pick her up, don't forget to bring her Sasha and Jade Bratz dolls, and her Little Mermaid DVD. She watches it everyday, but you probably already know that. Hope she's happier with you.

"Cleh!" Yvette bounced up and down on the leather sofa, patting the spot besides her with enthusiasm Massie hadn't seen in a while. "Sit here, Cleh! Watch Ariel with me!"

"Where's mommy going to sit?" Claire asked as she sat down. She ruffled Yvette's curly hair, and the two-year-old erupted into giggles.

"Mommy doesn't like movies, because Mommy has a headache." She leaned closer to Claire's ears. "Mommy's sad so the doctor said for her to take this medicine, and it makes her cranky. I don't want her to watch it with me."

Massie didn't say anything. Instead, she popped the lid of the Xanax bottle open and fetched a bottle of water. "Go ahead, I don't care." A pathetic lie.

To Dylan Marvil and Alicia Rivera, I leave you half of the clothes in my wardrobe. Teamed up, the two of you have managed to steal from me more than Bonnie and Clyde. Maybe with my stuff, you'll get the attention you desire so badly. But it's okay. I'll forgive you, Dylan, for all those times you stole my pride. Even when you went and dug up all of those old headlines tearing me down just to boost your views on the show – that's over. Maybe you'll get to do my suicide sometime – I'm sure the viewers will love that. And Alicia, I'll forgive you for all the times you stole love from me. Although you seem to be slipping – Nikki Dalton beat you, she got my husband into an extramarital affair before you had the chance.

"How could you do this?" Massie demanded, her throat closing with every word. It was like someone had taken a wrench and twisted all of her internal organs into a giant pretzel knot, and was squeezing them tighter and tighter. That happened both times she'd had to demand that question.

"Mass," Dylan had rolled her now violet eyes. "It's just for views. I'm not personally trying to bash you or anything – that's your history. Those are some of the things you've done. And my agent said that you were fine with it." A horrid lie.

"Massie!" Alicia had said back. "Now you know the kind of guy he is! He wasn't even drunk like I was!" Most definitely a lie.

And finally, to Cameron Fisher, I leave nothing but the pink designer scarf. The one with the red stripes. He'll know what I mean. But anyway, contrary to what I said on that one day about wanting it back, you can keep it. Maybe you'll think of me.

"I don't need to hear it from you, okay?" Massie snapped, burning tears threatening to fall down her face. "Just get out of here and leave me alone!"

Cameron Fisher's mismatched eyes widened in shock. "A-are you crying?" He picked the scarf that she'd left on the kitchen table up and made a move to wipe her tears with it, but she swatted him away.

"That cost more than your hand-me-down car, don't get it all dirty."

It might not seem like much, but it's the only thing left I can give you. After all, you've already stolen my heart.

With Love for the Most Part,

Massie Block