“I don't think you appreciate the gift I'm trying to give you here,” the brunette woman said, doing what she could to keep from openly glaring at the girl sitting across from her. “I'm offering you my favor. I carry much more weight than your little director boy-toy, and if push comes to shove I will have him wiped off the map.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, though the gesture was mostly lost behind the dark sunglasses she wore for anonymity. “There's nothing sadder than watching your idols go senile,” she said with a smirk. “I'm not giving up the part, but if you'd like I can ask around about openings. Those lights do get awful hot, and it's not like we can be expected to fetch our own water.”

Lily Paige could feel her blood boiling in her veins. She could feel herself trembling with rage, but she kept a practiced neutral tone in her voice. No matter what the little cunt thought, she was a good actress. “You're hot shit right now, but that will fade. Your body will not make you a legend. The talent you possess will not make you a legend. Everybody will forget about Emily What's-Her-Name, With The Nice Rack. At that point, if you want to keep making a living, you will need to have not pissed off people like me.”

Emily burst into a fit of giggles, holding her napkin to her mouth. “You really believe that, don't you?” Reaching out, she put her hand over Lily's, smiling condescendingly. “Don't worry. By the time I fade, you'll be long dead. There's nothing you can do to stop me.” She smiled, looking down at her chest. “It really is a nice rack though, isn't it? I'm sure you remember what that's like.”

“Listen to me, you little cunt!” Lily's hand turned over, clasping Emily's, and gripped it so hard that her nails dug into Emily's wrist. “You have the chance to not fuck up your future here by being reasonable. If you keep disrespecting me, I will end you.”

Deep scratches were carved in Emily's flesh as she drew her arm away, clutching it protectively. “Don't touch me, you old harpy. If you had a fourth of the weight to throw around that you're pretending you do, you wouldn't still be here begging for the role. There's nothing more to discuss. Get out of my sight.” The women stared darkly into one another's eyes before Lily rose from the booth.

“You will regret this,” she warned, looking down her nose at Emily.

“Doubt it; fuck off.” The young blonde's tone was one of annoyed dismissal. Shaking with rage, Lily stormed out of the diner, slamming the door out of her way as she headed into the parking lot and towards her car.

“Lily! Lily Paige, over here!” a voice called, drawing her attention. The next thing she knew a white flash filled her vision, and she swore under her breath.

“Parasite,” she hissed.

“Lily Paige, who were you talking to in there? What were you talking about? Do you have anything you'd like to get off your chest?”

“You know, there actually is something I-” Lily started to whirl around to face the paparazzo, but her leg didn't land where she expected it to and she lost her balance, stumbling to her knees. She could hear the click of the shutter as she remained there on all fours, simmering with frustration and embarrassment.

“Are you okay?” the man asked, though he made no effort to actually come to her aid. She should have known trying to talk to him was pointless. A quick glance into the diner showed that the little cunt hadn't noticed her fall. Lily went to pick herself up when she noticed that the world was steadily growing away from her.

“No...” she whispered, her heart hammering. This can't be happening to me right now, not here, not with them around, she thought to herself, but try as she could to stop it, she was definitely shrinking. The photographer seemed to have noticed by now, and his shutter was clicking much faster than before.

“Lily Paige, before you shrink too small, can you tell us what you're thinking? What do you plan to do as an Infected actress? Will you still be making movies?”

“Shut up and help me!” Lily yelled at the top of her lungs, thrashing to the top of her oversized clothes. She held the top of her blouse up around her collarbone, face blushing red with embarrassment. “Please call somebody to help me!”

“Oh, shit, good idea.” The man lowered his phone and walked towards her. Lily was partially stunned; she hadn't expected him to actually come help her. Now that he was approaching, every step made him seem more and more colossal, especially since she continued to shrink away to nothing. She was only around a foot tall when he reached down, and Lily expected to feel his thick fingers wrap around her tiny, delicate frame, but the sensation never came. Instead, he rifled through her pockets, withdrawing her cell phone.

“Direct connection to all of your contacts. Thanks so much, Lily!” The man was gleeful as he turned the phone over before dropping it into his pocket. “So like I said, what are your plans for the big screen? Will you be joining any of the Infected support groups, like the Motivation? What does the future hold for Lily Paige?”

“I can answer that.” Before Lily had a chance to unleash her growing frustration at the giant who was back to taking pictures, another voice called out in the parking lot. The two turned to see Emily folding up her sunglasses, clipping them onto the front of her shirt.

“Emily Frost? You were talking with Emily Frost?” the paparazzo asked of Lily.

“Please, you have t-”

“She wasn't just talking with me,” Emily's voice easily drowned out Lily's, who had reached her final size of two inches. “She was threatening me.” The blonde girl slowly walked forward, smirking widely down at her shrunken enemy. “Telling me how she's so much bigger than me. How she'll crush me if I don't do what she wants.” The man with the camera backed away, still taking pictures, as Emily advanced.

“E-Emily, please, this is-”

“She thinks she can do whatever she wants to whoever she wants, and nobody will ever fight back because she's Lily... Fucking... Paige.” She planted her last three steps down dramatically at each word, standing just before the shrunken Lily, sneering down her nose at her.

“Please hel-”

“Just shut up.” Emily kicked out, sending Lily flying a foot away from her clothes, tumbling across the asphalt. She could hear the shutter clicks even as she bit her lip to keep from crying in humiliation and pain. “Hey, you. Cameraman.”

“Yes?” The man stopped taking pictures long enough to look up.

“If she died, would you run it?”

“Oh, of course! She's the first celebrity to shrink in public! This is huge!”

Emily grinned, walking towards Lily once more. The tiny woman scrambled to her feet, fleeing the giantess in a panic. “Please help me! Stop taking pictures and fucking help!” she shrieked up to the paparazzo, but it was no use. He clearly heard her, but he kept the end of the camera trained on her, taking picture after picture.

“I do hope you're going to go see The Trumpeter's March, coming out this fall,” Emily said softly as she approached the tiny woman. She knocked Lily to the ground with her big toe, then placed the tip of her shoe over her little body. “It's a great film that I think will really touch millions of people.”

“Please... please help me...” Lily begged from beneath the shoe as it slowly came down on her, bending and compressing her bones against the unforgiving ground. The man laid down on his front to get a better view of the execution.

Emily could not have been more thrilled. She savored every second of the experience, dragging out Lily's death for as long as possible, and loving the fact that the cameraman, with his inaction, was endorsing her murder. She knew that once she did this, she would be invincible. She would conquer Hollywood, and crush everybody who tried to stop her like she would with Lily now.

Small pops started to come from beneath her foot, signaling Lily's bones snapping under the tremendous pressure. The tiny woman let out a gut-wrenching scream of pain, and it was amid this scream that the front-page picture was taken: Lily reaching out from beneath the shoe with one arm, blood running down her once-fetishized body, and raw, pure emotion painted all across her face as she stared into the camera of the man who refused to save her life. It was a hell of a performance.

“Ew, I think I stepped in some gum,” Emily said, pressing her foot to the ground, silencing Lily Paige forever. She dragged her foot back a few times on the ground, scraping the viscera off her shoe and painting the former actress into several spots in the parking lot of a nameless diner. “Oh, no,” she said, turning her shoe to look at the sole. “Looks like it was just nothing.”