It had been almost a year since Emily Frost had even thought about Lily Paige. The court case had garnered some attention, but amidst the shrinking panic and backed-up legal system in general, it had been hard for the prosecution to make any progress. Emily's lawyers dragged the case out until that November, at which point what Emily had done was retroactively labeled animal cruelty and she was given a small fine. She sneezed away the money it took to make the matter disappear, and the entirety of Lily Paige was gone from her mind the second it was over.

Now she had another two-inch problem. The man inside of her, rising star Jeffery Green, was trying his hardest to work her to orgasm, but he was just too ill-equipped for the job. He struggled himself to climax, panting heavily, and fell against her once he was done.

“O... okay, big guy,” she said condescendingly, pushing him off of her. He was still breathing heavily, as though he'd just run a marathon. Emily rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

“That was incredible. You're so good.”

Emily smiled. “Yeah,” she said softly.

“I can't believe I fucked Emily Frost. That's... that's like fucking...” he stalled, trying to think of an equivalent.

“It's like fucking Emily Frost,” she said.

“Exactly! God, you're incredible.”

“Yeah, I know. But you have to get out now, my boyfriend could be home anytime.”

“Your... you have a boyfriend?”

“Of course I do. Didn't we just talk about this? I'm Emily Frost.”

“B-but I thought that I...”

She barked out a quick laugh. “That you what? Were going to be my boyfriend? Or that somehow you had found me in a two-hour window in which I was unspoken for and you thought that you were the one I was gonna spend my time with? Jeffy, baby, you're cute, but you've got to know you're not going anywhere, right? Not really, anyway.”

The actor looked as if he was going to cry. Emily rolled her eyes, getting out of bed and leading him up by his hands. “Come on, don't be a big baby. You're really going to cry if my boyfriend comes home and catches you here with me while I'm naked. You know Dylan Twist?”

“The director?”

“Yeah. He's on his way here right now.”

“Th-that guy's huge!”

“Unlike present company,” Emily muttered. “Anyway, yes he is. So come on. Get up, get dressed, get out.” Jeffery leaped to his feet, quickly getting his clothes on.

“So... can I call you?”

“Do you have my number?”

“No, I don't think I got it.”

“Guess you can't. Come on, go!” She shoved him out of her bedroom and closed the door behind him. His footsteps were loud against the marble floor as he descended the giant staircase towards the main floor. She let out a sigh, then looked at her dresser. The lights were off, but the moonlight provided enough illumination to reveal a tiny man standing on its surface, still facing her with his miniature camera.

Aaron had been licensed out by his firm to be Emily's private paparazzo, taking the pictures nobody else could get. Being Infected meant he could live on her dresser, she would provide for him, and in return he got whatever pictures he wanted. Emily had no problem with the arrangement, as she felt the more exposure she got in the public eye, the better. But now she had a problem.

“Give me the camera,” she demanded, extending her index finger towards the tiny man.

“Are you insane? These are gold!” He rushed towards his tiny computer – which was just barely capable of storing files and uploading them to his firm's database. Emily swiftly lashed out, knocking him aside with a backwards brush of her hand. His camera clattered to the desk, and in the next instant Emily lowered her fingertip onto it, crushing it beyond repair.

“What did you do that for!?” Aaron yelled.

“I can't have people knowing I fucked him. Sorry. I'm sure the agency will be willing to get you a new camera, right? I'll have someone swing by there tomorrow.”

“The public deserves to know everything!”

“The public can know what I show them. I'm not showing them that, and neither are you, little man.” She leaned in close for emphasis, but Aaron was accustomed to dealing with stubborn famous people.

“I still have my laptop! I can still tell people, and they'll believe me! Especially if it comes on the night of my camera being destroyed!” Emily paused for only a moment before reaching out and crushing his laptop just as easily as she had his camera.

“There. Now you don't have either. And I won't be getting you replacements.”

“Oh, yeah, good thinking on your part!” Aaron shouted sarcastically. “If I don't have a camera or a laptop, what are you even keeping me around for?”

Emily straightened up, looking down at the miniscule man on her desk, and raised an eyebrow in response to his question. Her new expression sent a chill down his spine and he stumbled backwards, raising his hands apologetically as he remembered the court case from a year ago. “N-now wait... I didn't mean like that!”

“No, you're right. What am I keeping you around for? You're not increasing my fame, and you don't have a great personality. And fuck, I bet you're even smaller than Jeffery's dick!” Emily giggled. “If you can believe that.”

“Please, Emily, I was just... I was just talking, you know? I didn't mean any of it! I swear, I won't tell a soul about any of this!”

“And why should I even take the chance that you will? Hmm? Do you really think your little life is so valuable as to convince me to take any risk to myself?” She leaned in close again, enjoying instilling fear in the little vermin. “You know I wouldn't throw a hundred dollars your way to save your life? That's what you mean to me, fuckface.”

“O-of course...” Aaron was finally at a loss for words. He had dealt with bitter, childish, asshole celebrities before, but never one with such an aura of chilling sadism like Emily Frost. Sometimes his clients may have wanted to kill him, but none before Emily had ever wanted to murder him.

“So prove your worth. Convince me why I shouldn't just end you right here and now?”

“B... because, I... I, um, I can...” he stammered, staring up at the beautiful, naked goddess of an actress that loomed above him. “E-Emily... please...”

“Begging? Really? That's what you think is going to convince me to keep you around? Honestly, are you even trying to save your life?”

“Y-yes...”

“Are you really? Because if you don't care about your life you just let me know right now and I'll squish you into paste.” Aaron paled. His mouth open and shut, but he wasn't able to produce any noise. “Ugh, pathetic. Look, just nod or shake your head in answer to this question: do you want me to smear you into the ground?” The tiny man shook his head. “Okay. So you want to live?” A nod. “Fine, I can arrange that. But you're still going to be doing work around here, you know that, right?” He nodded again. “Good boy. I like this new system, where I tell you what's happening and you accept it. In fact, I don't really see any need for you to speak ever again. From now on, you just nod or shake your head and that's it, got it?” He nodded, his mouth too dry to speak even if he wanted to.

“Perfect! Now, let's get you useful again, shall we?”

Days later, Emily was attending the premiere of her newest movie, walking the carpet and smiling broadly as the clicks and flashes of cameras went off all around her. She was happy to pose for pictures, drinking in the attention they lavished on her.

She found a microphone in her face and it took her a moment to determine to whom it belonged. “Miss Frost, could I ask you some questions?”

“Of course!” she responded happily.

“That's an interesting fashion piece you've got on tonight. Who are you wearing?”

“Oh, this old thing?” She looked down at her chest, and the man dangling just above her cleavage. Aaron was attached to a gold chain that looped around her neck and hooked through his shoulders, keeping him firmly secured. Colorful twine had been used to sew his arms to his sides, and his legs together, and his body was painted with interesting designs. “Just a little Mote I found. I captured him and then I realized, you know, people look down on them, but there's beauty inside them. I just thought I'd do what I could to bring this little guy's inner beauty out, really make him a centerpiece of attention and show the world that there's more to the Motes than just being clever vermin.”

Aaron shied away as the microphone was lowered to his level. “Do you have any comment on that?” He stared at the fuzzy black ball hovering inches away from him.

“Please, hel-” he began to shout before Emily flicked him in the side of the head, causing him to rock back and forth momentarily. He screamed in pain, thrashing as much as he was able, and the microphone lifted back to Emily.

“I'm so sorry about that, he knows he's not allowed to speak. He's very happy to be setting a good example for Motes everywhere.” She smiled, looking into a few more cameras as they took pictures.

“Well it seems like the two of you are getting along just great!” the interviewer said. “Can we expect to see more Mote-based fashion pieces from you in the future?”

“Oh, absolutely! I think there's so many uses for them, and I'm sure I'm going to have a blast exploring them all with my little helper here.” She gave a wink to the cameras before moving on, the tiny man around her neck still twisting and screaming for help to the uncaring crowd surrounding Emily Frost.