All language subtitles for 8B7C7CC3355451288A84C5659ECFCE73_eng (LUCKIEST GIRL ALIVE)

It's 2015, and people
still act like marriage

is some sort of crowning
achievement for women.

That is a trap I
did not fall into.

Some people prefer to really feel like
they're holding a knife in their hands.

I dove in headfirst.

Most professional
chefs, they prefer...

I don't normally
quiver for cutlery,

but I'm getting married in
six weeks, so here we are.

- Does that mean it's sharper?
- Scary sharp.

And she ain't cheap, but
she is the superior blade.

Well, baby, we can't start
married life with inferior blades.

So you wanna choose a knife
that feels comfortable in your hand.

What do you think
of the Zwilling?

Snap out of it, psycho.

It's heavier.

She has the touch.

Oh... Well...

I think being a petite woman, you'll
find the Miyabi easier to manage.

I've managed to not
eat lunch for six years

just to have this
joker call me petite.

Petite is what they
call short fat girls.

I should know. I used to be one.

Text your mom.

- Let her know we're officially registered.
- Okay.

Luke Harrison the Fourth
played D1 lacrosse at Colgate,

kite surfs on Nantucket,

and skis in Vail because Aspen
is lousy with the nouveau riche.

Mmm.

He calls me "babe" with
the finest of intentions.

- Let's go, babe.
- Yeah.

Heretofore, it is his birthright to marry
a blond insect of Norwegian descent

with a gender-ambiguous
name, like Landry or Devon,

who can spot my
grift a mile away.

Hey, can we get pizza?

Who are you, and what have
you done with my fiancée?

I'm not to the manor born,

but I have something
no trust fund can buy...

the edge.

It doesn't take
much in Luke's world.

Love your work, hate
babies, even the cute ones,

have a few lurid secrets,

and be eternally grateful that Luke
knows all of them and still loves me.

Um, my mom is asking
if the invites went out.

Mm. Yeah, once
I approve the font.

- Once you approve the font?
- Yes.

Oh. Once Ani approves the font.

Thank you.

Oh, she's saying they should
go out six weeks before.

- Jesus, are we at six weeks already?
- Yeah.

Whoa, we are at six weeks.

All done here?

- Yeah, maybe just a box, please.
- Sure.

- Loo.
- Okay.

Someone once
called me an animal.

One wrong move
and Luke will see it too.

Hmm.

You can just take
that. Thank you.

Jesus. What happened?

Waitress spilled soda all
over the pizza and my dress.

Oh no.

It's gonna be okay, babe. Okay?

Come on, I'll help you.

Baby, I love you.

Oh! Oh my God.

- I'm so full.
- You hardly ate anything.

Okay, so maybe I keep
some secrets from him,

but no one has ever
made me feel so safe.

I'm proud of you for
eating carbs, babe.

I wanna see every one
of you dripping in sweat.

Nothing is so bad that you
can't do it for ten more seconds.

Ugh! Nineteen minutes?

Some people have jobs to get to.

I mean, not me, but some people.

But I can't be late today.

Oh my God. Are you meeting
the documentary director today?

Yes.

Okay, well, you're not
gonna be late on my watch.

Nell Rutherford has been fostering
me since freshman year of college.

I know you never
take the subway.

Oh God, no, no, no. I-I
really... I really hate this.

Okay. By your side.

Nell is a natural
blond with a trust fund.

I'm a try-hard former
financial-aid kid.

We both hate where we came from.

Your mom's coming
this weekend, right?

Oh, yes.

She's been to TJ
Maxx three times

to try to find an outfit for my fitting at
Saks Fifth Avenue on the 5th Avenue.

Wow, what is the
opposite of a legend?

Okay, I think this
one is the most you.

What? Only You Pro?

Oh.

Would you pick it?

I mean, I'm not getting married
until we have a woman for president,

so I guess we'll
know soon enough.

Uh...

I, uh... I'm still scared
I'm making a mistake.

Getting married?

No. No, like is Only You
Pro the font of a trash slut

who doesn't know how to pass
the salt and pepper shakers together.

Oh my God, there is no such
thing as a slutty font. It doesn't exist.

God, I can't breathe.

Oh my God.

It's okay.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

This is normal. Okay?
This happens all the time.

We are experiencing a delay...

- It's no big deal.
- ...due to train traffic ahead of us.

Thank you for your patience.

You okay?

There we go. See?

Next stop 34th
Street-Herald Square.

- And we're moving. Okay.
- Oh my God.

Ugh! Eleanor Whitman.
Brought in from The Atlantic

to elevate the overly-sex
fashion glossy where I work.

How was your weekend?

I feel like I ran a half-marathon
through Williams-Sonoma.

- Williams-Sonoma?
- Yeah.

You should register for a few
pieces at Scully & Scully if you can.

I'm sure Luke's family
would go in on them.

The fuck is Scully & Scully?

Obsessed with Scully & Scully.

My bedroom sconces
are from there.

Mmm.

Eleanor gets to write
about topics with gravitas,

like the wage gap and
women in Afghanistan.

I'm on another
equally important beat.

Your voice, Miss FaNelli...

is simply peerless.

My jaw hurts after reading that.

This is what sells our magazine.

Apparently men's pleasure
is of global importance.

So a recent study in the
American Journal of Public Health

found that last year, 30%
of sexual assault survivors

had to pay $940 for
their own rape kits.

That's a girl's whole paycheck.

Right. So I was thinking

"The Real Cost of Sexual
Assault" as the cover line.

Oh! Lavender. Retch.

Hmm.

How about, "When Your Rape
Costs More than Your Rent"?

Now that gets us
on The Today Show.

Mm...

Miss FaNelli, give me something
skanky to keep the lights on.

Okay.

Let's see, skanky...

Okay, a new study in
the Journal of Kinesiology

found that nasal breathing is
optimal for sports performance

and is used by some of the
top athletes around the world.

So, "Five Weeks to
an Olympian Blow Job:

Breathe Like a Top Athlete

to Last Longer and
Go Deeper than His Ex."

When I count my
blessings, I count you twice.

- Draft by the end of the week?
- Yeah.

Thank you, everyone.

Come with me.

It's gonna be your name on the
masthead of The New York Times Magazine.

Lower than mine, but it beats
a Cuisinart for a wedding gift.

I am this close to
becoming Ani Harrison,

senior editor at The New
York Times Magazine,

to becoming someone
people can respect.

Abstaining from lunch allows me to
squat in Eleanor's office when I need it.

One day, I'll have a corner office
with my own insufferable display

of prestigious and frankly
phallic-looking awards.

Until then, I pretend
I'm important.

The rock was
Luke's grandmother's.

Oh. Pardon me, his Nana's.

He told me I could reset
it in a diamond band,

what all the girls
are doing now.

Exactly why I will never.

I intend to send a
very clear message.

This is an heirloom.

We don't just have money.
We come from money.

Take your best shot.

Hey, Ani. Good to see you again.

Sorry to make you come
all the way to Midtown.

Katie, thank you so much.

Can you please remind
Benjamin that I need the art

for the wage-gap story?

Um, the what story?

The smart story I just made
up to sound more impressive.

Ask Penelope.

- Sit, please.
- I appreciate you making the time.

- Mm-hmm.
- Uh...

I know you said that the documentary
was not the right choice at the moment,

but there's been a pretty sizable
development since the last time we spoke.

Your former classmate, Dean
Barton, has signed on to be interviewed.

Keep it the fuck
together, FaNelli.

I guess it shouldn't be a surprise
he has a new book to promote.

I'm sure you saw his speech
before Congress this summer.

Only 200 times.

No.

Oh, it was a plea to tighten firearm
background checks in Pennsylvania.

Your ring. Show him your ring.

I'm afraid I've been preoccupied
this summer with planning the wedding

and the magazine's initiative
with Hillary's campaign.

I can't imagine what it's like to
have people grilling you about it

so many years later.

You're a survivor of the deadliest
private-school shooting in history.

And the reason it continues
to captivate public interest

is because there are still so many
questions you never answered.

People wanna know were
you a hero or an accomplice?

I had absolutely
nothing to do with it.

- Then why does Dean say you did?
- I don't know.

Don't you wanna tell
your side of the story?

Miss FaNelli. Right
at home, I see.

I need three to five cover line tries
for the simultaneous orgasm story

by the time I get
back from lunch.

LoLo Vincent, editor-in-chief
of The Women's Bible.

Aaron Wickersham,
independent filmmaker.

Oh, that's right. I saw your short at the
Toronto Film Festival a few years back.

Are you our hot guy of
the month for December?

Actually, I'm working on a documentary
about gun violence in schools.

I'm hoping to talk to...

Don't say it.

...TifAni.

Oh.

I always forget
that's your name.

Ani's pithier.

My team has spent the last year

researching the incident
at your high school.

My intention is not to
upset you by saying this,

but we've uncovered a very
different side to the story.

I promise you, I'm
only after the truth here.

I give you my word that our work
together will not cause you further harm.

As long as you get
your sensational story.

I'm sorry, but there's just no way that
you can promise me something like that.

What if I said I
believe you, Ani?

Thank you.

Oh, it looks like
a castle, TifAni.

I always think they're gonna
drive nicer cars in the Main Line.

It's such a hoity-toity area.

Mom.

Hmm.

One hundred percent of the students
who received this writing scholarship...

- Ended up at a tier-one university.
- ...ended up...

I know you think I'm a broken record,
but college is where you meet the people

who are gonna be in your
life for a very long time, TifAni,

and the caliber of men is
just not there at a state school.

Okay, Mom.

This is it. This
is the beginning.

Bye.

You're already the
prettiest girl in school.

Mom! Shh!

I spent the first few weeks at
the esteemed Brentley School

navigating the various cliques.

There were the popular kids...

- Hi. - Hi.

...the smart kids,

and everybody else.

Plus the very cool teacher
who noticed my talent right away.

"Holden is what we call
an unreliable narrator,

someone whose version
of the truth can't be trusted."

That's a line from the
exceptional essay by TifAni FaNelli.

Welcome to Brentley.
Congratulations.

Stop.

Oh, thanks.

The one thing they
all had that I didn't?

Pedigree.

Yo, Hilary.

- Yo, Dean.
- Get me some Swedish Fish.

Oh.

Don't worry, I got you.

Uh... Don't use a tray.

- Thanks.
- Yeah.

Okay.

Come on, come sit with us.

Liam! Over here.

Peyton, take that.

- Hey, girl.
- Hey.

- What's up, TifAni?
- Shit, homeboy's already called dibs.

I showed her where the language
room was this morning, shitbrain.

- What do I owe you, Finny?
- Finny?

Tif-Finny.

Don't worry about it.

Only Dean would let a
financial-aid kid buy him lunch.

Oh.

It's a writing scholarship.

That only low-income
students can apply for.

Liv...

Hmm. And yet, you're John D. Rockefeller's
great-great-great-granddaughter,

and you still lost the
Salinger Essay Award to, uh...

Okay.

Uh, Olivia had to change her last
name from Rockefeller to Kaplan

due to a kidnapping threat.

- It's been a harrowing time for her.
- Jesus. Finny, watch out for this freak.

Choke on your Swedish
Fish, Dean. You're such a dick.

...gun control. And they equate it
with an effort to take away their guns.

And I used to be
one of them, Rachel,

until I realized that the
bill we are proposing

wouldn't have threatened
my constitutional rights.

But it would have ensured that
the gun that severed my spinal cord

was registered, locked
away in a safe place,

out of the hands of the dangerous,
mentally-unstable individuals that...

Why are we watching this?

We... We so appreciate you...

That director reached out again.

Oh.

What does he want?

Dean's doing the
documentary now.

Nice.

It's a last-ditch effort
to get you to do it.

You're the story. You're the
one who's never gone on record.

He needs you.

Hey.

You should do it if you
feel you need to do it.

But remember, you don't
have to defend yourself to me

or to anyone who
really knows you.

Who cares what
anyone else thinks?

So easy to say when
everyone loves you, Luke.

- Can I give you some good news?
- Yeah.

They wanna make the London
offer attractive to both of us.

Luke's firm wants to pay
him fuck-your-feelings-money

to move to London,

where I'll be barefoot
and pregnant in a year.

John said this is ranked number six
globally when it comes to MFA programs.

Come on, Luke.

You know MFA programs
are just for white girls

who can't get paid to write.

I thought you'd be elated.

It's just, um... LoLo mentioned
today that she's in the final stages

of reviewing her contract with
The New York Times Magazine.

I'm sorry, Ani, but how many
times have you heard this?

Until there's an offer on
the table, none of it is real.

London is real.

This is a real
opportunity for you.

Okay, I'll think about it.

- Think about it. Going for a run.
- Okay.

Think of it as a
fresh start, babe.

This is so fun.

- Go. You got it.
- All right. All right.

Watch this.

Oh my God.

Liam is, like, doing a
mating dance or something.

He is so yummy right now.

Move your legs!

Hey, yo, Peyton, watch this.

- Oh! Oh! Hey! Oh.
- Okay.

- Ah!
- What...

- What the fuck?
- Relax.

You're fucking weird.
Get the fuck away from me.

- Relax, man.
- This fucking guy.

- Come on.
- I'm gonna kill him.

Ah!

Hey.

He's so cute!

Arthur, I think I
might be pregnant.

Oh, yeah. You guys' kids
are gonna need a fucking tutor.

Why... Why do I feel like you
just did something ill-advised?

Dude, you promised
no horseshit tonight.

Well, promises are meant
to be broken, mon chéri.

Oh!

He's got a flask. Let's go.

- Oh, Arthur. Arthur. Arthur.
- Arthur.

Arthur, stop.

You need to come with me, now.

Come with me.

Hilary!

Come on.

Don't stop. Don't stop.

Girls. If you leave school
property, I have to call your parents.

My mom knows I'm
going to Dean's house.

I mean, she's best
friends with Mrs. Barton.

- Yeah.
- Tiff's sleeping over after.

- Call Hilary's mom if you want.
- Yeah.

Yeah, call my mom.

Okay.

Yes, I'm here.

Go, go, go. Come on.

Hey!

Hi!

- Hi, Mr. Larson!
- No, don't!

- Don't do that!
- Thank you!

He's gonna call my mom.

I love this song!

Halter is a good style for her.

She can wear anything.

Even with the breast reduction,
she's still broad in the shoulders.

Wow.

Marry me.

Mmm.

What about a belt?

You just need some embellishments
or something 'cause it's so plain.

If you just would've
waited five more seconds,

you wouldn't have
had to insult my dress.

I did not insult her dress. Did
you hear me insult her dress?

You just want her popping.

Nell gets it.

I was watching Say Yes
to the Dress the other day,

and the girl on there

had, um, this tulle princess
skirt you could tie on or tie off.

Kate Middleton didn't wear a
tulle princess skirt to her wedding.

Neither should the
expecting child brides of Ohio.

Thank you.

Yes, she was about
six months along.

Mmm.

Still, I think I would do that
over this, um... The bolerino thing.

Bolero.

Bolero.

Have another.

Ani.

Excuse me for trying to celebrate
the most important day of your life.

I'm gonna go check
out the sales upstairs.

I'm afraid you can't bring glass
outside the bridal boutique, ma'am.

Okay, don't kill me, but
I sort of agree with her.

I mean, you're
sexier than this, right?

I'm getting married in the
whale print capital of the world.

I don't wanna embarrass Luke
in some sequined mermaid dress.

Embarrass Luke?
Ugh! Fucking yikes, Ani.

Nell, I'm... I'm five weeks out.

Why would you tell me
that my dress is wrong now?

No, it's not wrong. Okay?
Nothing about you is wrong.

Jesus. Unclench, okay?

Yeah, well, that's impossible,

what with the real housewife
of Pennsyltucky in town.

Be nice to your mother.

That cut looks nice on you.

More forgiving across the middle
than some of your other stuff.

Whoa!

It's the director. It's Aaron.

Let it go to voicemail.

I thought you told him
no. Why is he calling you?

I did,

but I just wanted to
know if I change my mind,

when I would need
to be available.

Holy shit.

- Ani.
- Like, good "shit"?

Babe, you wanna expose Dean Barton
for the sanctimonious prick that he is.

This is
no-dairy-for-a-month shit.

Single-wipe shit.

No. Uh, I don't know.
I, um... I'm not ready.

- Come on, what will it take?
- Oh.

Let's see. Uh, Dean's making
viral speeches at Congress,

and I have a story due Monday about
how to pleasure an uncircumcised penis.

They're more sensitive than
the ones without their turtlenecks,

according to the experts.

Nobody believed me back then,

because I was a Wet
Seal wearing gutter rat.

If I'm gonna do this, I
need to be bulletproof.

I need to be able to say that I
work at The New York Times,

that I live in an elevator
doorman building in Tribeca,

and that my name is Ani Harrison

because I married the
lacrosse captain of Nantucket.

And how dare anyone believe
I did what Dean said I did

while wiping away a single
tear with this hand in particular.

Four out of five.

Not that you need any
of it to make you credible.

You don't,

but I do.

I do.

My God, they have
attitude in here.

It's like, you work retail.

- I'm gonna make a quick call.
- Okay.

- You're fine.
- Oh, thank you.

Sucker's a hall pass.

Hi, Ani. I'm so glad you called.

I didn't feel good about the way
we ended things in your office.

The new headmaster's allowing us to film
on campus the second week of September.

We're just finalizing the schedule.
We'd love to know if you're in.

- Oh, cute, Spencer.
- Call me back when you get a chance.

Oh, excuse me. You look
exactly like my daughter.

Uh, people are always
mistaking me for someone else.

While I have you...

- That one.
- Hmm.

Nice eye.

Hi, Aaron?

I always stay at the Ritz
Carlton when I come home.

Great.

Baby, here we go!

Oh!

Shots!

Come on!

- Cheers!
- Cheers!

Oh, yeah!

I'll take that one too.

- All right, let's go.
- Hilary.

Hilary, your mom's here.

- My mom's here. Fuck, my mom's here!
- What?

We have to go.

What? I've got to go.

- Tif, are you coming?
- You can't have her.

I'm sorry, you can't have her!

Tif!

He won't let me go.

Finny, drink! Let's go.

Come on! My house, my rules.

Ani?

Fucking corporate.

Okay, the latest edict is we
can't say clit, but clitoris is fine.

Okay.

Oh, but you don't need to know
that, because you no longer work here.

We're going to The
New York Times.

Oh, fuck yes! Yeah!

Whoo!

Thank you.

Hi. Reservation
for four for Harrison.

Should be eight o'clock.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Hi.

- You're in a good mood.
- Okay, so I have some good news.

- One member of your party is at the bar.
- Oh.

Okay, I'll, um...
I'll tell you after.

Here you go. Thank you so much.

That's her. That's...
That's the wife.

Okay.

Whitney.

- Luke. Hi.
- Good to see ya.

Mm. Andrew's running
a few minutes late.

- This is Ani, my fiancée.
- Hi, Whitney.

- Nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you.

Excuse me, but I have been
stuck at home with a 16-month-old.

A 16-month-old?

You look amazing.

Luke calls me
the wife-whisperer.

Do you have any photos?

Like it's so hard.

Literally, all you do is act
like they invented motherhood.

Scroll to the right.

There's a special place in hell
for women who can't show you

just one picture
of their children.

Oh my God, come on.
Look at this little munchkin.

- Baby, look at it.
- Cute. Can I have a beer, please?

Is this your husband?

As far as I know.

Sorry. My God, 5th
was a parking lot.

- There he is.
- Luke.

- Good to see ya.
- Great to see ya.

- Honey.
- Hey.

This is Ani.

Nice to meet you. Andrew.

Mr. Larson, it's me.

TifAni.

TifAni?

Uh, "Mr. Larson?"
Was he your teacher?

TifAni.

Uh... I didn't recognize
you. You look...

Like none of it ever happened.

We can seat you now.

So... I'm sorry, wait a second.
Did you change your name or...

No, this is, um, TifAni,
from when I left Brentley.

Oh.

Oh God.

- God, I'm so sorry for...
- Oh God.

- You know, everything.
- It's okay.

- What happened to you, I just...
- Oh, I understand.

Make it stop, Luke.

I'm so sorry. I...

Well, if it's any consolation,

thanks to you, my do-gooder
husband got into credit derivatives.

You know, TifAni was the
strongest writer in my class.

Well, now she's senior
editor at The Women's Bible.

- The Women's Bible?
- Yeah.

- That's fantastic.
- Thank you.

I used to have to hide that
from my mother growing up.

"The past is never
dead. It's not even past."

To what Confucius said.

Huh, Faulkner.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Cheers.

Mmm. So, Ani,
you have to tell us,

what do you think of the
director in the skinny jeans?

- You're doing the documentary?
- They got to you too, huh?

Please tell me you are.

Yeah.

It's long overdue.

Thankfully, the
timing worked out.

We might be moving to
London after the wedding.

- London?
- Yeah.

Luke has been asked to run
BlackRock's European desk.

- Luke, congratulations.
- Thank you.

- Exciting.
- We're still figuring out the details.

Will you be able to write for
the magazine from over there?

Actually, I... just got accepted

into the Goldsmith's MFA program

- at the University of London.
- Ah!

To teach, I hope.

- Oh!
- Oh!

Ugh! Enough, Mr. Larson.

Sometimes I feel
like a wind-up doll.

Turn my key, and I'll tell you
exactly what you wanna hear.

For someone who so easily could,

Mr. Larson has never once
made me feel ashamed.

Hey.

Our spouses went
to 7th to get a cab.

- Can I tell you something?
- Sure.

I got a job offer from The New
York Times Magazine today.

Brava.

I mean, I had nothing to do with
it, but I couldn't be more proud.

Thanks.

What about London and the MFA?

I'll figure it out.

Tif, I know how these
things usually go.

Don't acquiesce.

- I'm glad you're doing the doc.
- It's a balancing act with him.

He doesn't trust the
director in skinny jeans.

So you acquiesce?

Am I allowed to call
you a bastard now?

You should be allowed
to do anything you want.

Okay.

It was good to see you.

Hey, man, is the AC on?

Should be getting colder now.

Did you mean what you
said back there about London?

You know, sometimes I feel like
another box you have to check off

so you look like
you've done okay.

I'm not some prick who
doesn't respect your career

just because you don't
make as much money as I do.

You know that, right?

I think you are so
talented and so creative,

and I love that about you.

It's one of the reasons I
want us to go to London.

I think you are limited where you
are, and frankly, you're better than it.

All I have to show for the
past nine years of my career

is 15,000 ways to touch a cock.

I never would've gotten the
offer from The New York Times

if LoLo hadn't
grandfathered me in.

You got the offer?

Yeah.

What is it? Where is it?

Is this right?

- Yeah.
- It's not even a 10% raise.

It's The New York Times. I
wouldn't be going there for the money.

Well, this makes me think
they don't value you at all.

It's not personal. There's no
money left in publishing anymore.

Well, exactly.

Listen, you go to London and get
your MFA. You can write a book.

Something that's yours,
that you have equity in.

Wouldn't you rather be known
for something you've created

than this thing that
happened to you so long ago?

No.

No, I... I wanna be remembered
for what really happened to me.

I want vindication.
It's all I think about.

I know you've thought long and
hard about doing this documentary,

and I'm not saying
you shouldn't do it,

but Dean has taken this very
bad thing that happened to him

and done something good with it.
People respect that and they respect him.

You know what I'm saying.

Yeah.

Yeah, it's the blow-job editor
versus the gun-safety savior.

No, God, of course. Ugh!

Oh God, if there was just a way for
me to write about more important issues

for a place of worldwide
influence and acclaim,

then maybe, just maybe,

people can hold me in
the same esteem as Dean.

Gosh, if there was just a way for
me to work at this elusive place.

You're so angry. I can't talk
to you when you're this angry.

Ugh! It's so hot in here.

I'm gonna walk
the last few blocks.

Sir, can you please
just keep driving?

Shit, Peyton.

Yo, holy fuck, you're
still at it? What the...

Fuck off, Liam.

We'll hang out, okay?

What the fuck?

Oh my God, I can't watch.

Come on, someone do something.

No, that's you, buddy.

Aw. Holy fuck.

Shit.

Take care of your girl, Liam.

Hey.

Aw.

Hey. Come on, I got you.

Ow! Ow...

Ow!

Ow!

Hi. Um, Dean...

- I just really need some water.
- You...

You should really
get some sleep.

Yeah, I'm just really thirsty.

Uh... Dean!

Wait, stop!

Wait! Wait! Wait!
Stop! Stop! Stop!

Stop! Stop! Stop! Wait. Wait.

- Dean, wait. Stop! Stop!
- Stop! Please.

Stop! Stop! Wait! Wait, no!

Please! Please!

Please, stop! Stop!

Oh, fuck!

Motherfucker.

Finny!

Shit.

Finny.

Fuck! Fucking crazy
ass bitch! Get out!

Hot in here! Fucking
piece of shit! Agh!

What the fuck? Fucking
ass bitch! Get out!

- Get her out!
- Honey, get out!

Don't fucking touch me!

Fuck you!

Don't fucking touch me!

You're so fucking nuts.

Excuse me.

Do you know how to get to
the Brentley School from here?

TifAni?

Hey. Hey.

Hey. What happened?

Hey, what happened?

TifAni, what happened?

You can come in.

They're a little big
but they're clean.

Look, can I please,

please take you
to the hospital now?

- I gotta call your mother.
- No.

Look, you... you can't be here.

It... it's not...

Look, I can get
into a lot of trouble.

Thanks.

Dean is hoping to meet with you.

No fucking way.

- Just hear me out.
- No.

He's willing to take back his claim
that you're involved in the shooting.

He's going to
vindicate you, Ani.

He wants to sit down with
you on camera and apologize.

Ugh. I hate your
soft voice so much.

Sorry. Um...

What...

Why?

Maybe you have some sense?

For fuck's sake, will you just
put this guy out of his misery?

My money's on the gang rape.

There. I said it.
No going back now.

I've gathered enough
to know that that event

was framed as something
that you participated in. I'm...

I'm so sorry, Ani.
It makes me sick.

Yeah, no participation
trophy for me.

TifAni... Uh, I mean, Ani,

if you wanna do this,

it'd be easy enough to tack
on an extra day to the schedule.

I'll make sure to keep you both
separate until you give me permission.

You'll call the shots.

What's the point of being at your
fighting weight if you're not gonna fight?

Okay.

And your safety and
comfort is our highest priority.

We do not wanna
see you re-traumatized.

We could look into getting
you a victims' advocate.

Sorry. I should probably ask if
you prefer "survivor" to "victim."

- I know that's a big thing these days.
- Oh.

Survivor? Gross.

So victim then?

Yeah.

Victim.

Mmm.

Definitely this one.

It's less oaky. I hate oak.

Hmm. Gosh, Mom. I never
once wondered if I was adopted.

Did you know it's broo-sket-
ta, not broo-shet-ta?

TifAni taught me that. She
and Nell lived in Rome for a time.

Keep it cute, FaNelli.

That must have been a
wonderful experience for you girls.

Oh, I just love Italy.

And from London, it's
just such a short flight.

Oh!

You didn't tell me. You made
a decision about London?

Mom, no, we didn't make
a decision yet, remember?

Oh, I apologize.
I misunderstood.

Uh, um...

I'll be... I'll be
just a minute.

Okay.

This is nice. Cheers.

And now here to
comment is Dean Barton.

Every day that Congress
fails to work together

to create universal
background checks

is another day that a
student risks their life

just trying to get an education.

TifAni?

It's outright negligence.

What are you doing?

- We owe these kids so much more.
- I came to check on you.

Why?

My little bambina.

Really starting to freak
out about seeing Dean.

Right.

What if when I see him in a
wheelchair, I can't be angry anymore?

I don't wanna feel bad for him.

It's so much cleaner
if I could just hate him.

Oh.

I say we go out there and
get Drunken Ship-faced.

Hmm?

Come on. You're about to
read Dean Barton for fucking filth.

Where's the registry for that?

Where's the blushing bride?

Jesus Christ, how am I
gonna get through this?

Here comes the bride. Finally.

Hey, lady. Oh...

Hallsy's Luke's
poorly preserved aunt

who ceased to be a lady
20 tennis-pro dicks ago.

Why is everyone so
anti-oak these days?

Ooh! I have a buttery
chard just for you.

About the only thing
California's good for.

And do me one more solid,
don't sit me with the Gilmartins.

- What'd you do this time?
- I didn't do anything.

They're being snowflakes
over the new park.

No offense, you two.

Well, it will be
very loud for them.

They've agreed to put
in soundproof buffers.

What kind of a park
needs a soundproof buffer?

A shooting park, Dinah.

Can't blame gun owners for wanting
to enjoy their hobby responsibly.

As a woman, I feel more
empowered when I'm shooting a gun

than I do bitching
about every little thing.

Okay, I'm gonna go inside.
Would anybody like some water?

I'll take one. No ice.

Don't worry, I won't sit
you with the Gilmartins.

You'll be at table 12

with the rest of the flabby
cougars where you belong.

- TifAni.
- Oh, boy.

Oh my God.

Oh fuck.

She's...

She's really tired.

It's been a long week, so...

Ani!

Stop!

Ani.

Ow! Goddamn it!

Ani!

Stop!

Damn it.

Do you like your life, TifAni?

Yes, Mom, I have built
a very nice life for myself.

How much do you make in a year?

What?

How much do you
make in a year, honey?

Uh... 80K.

Sometimes a little bit more if I
guest-edit a brand extension, okay?

Okay, so let's be
generous. Let's call it 90K.

How much did you
pay for that watch?

You don't think I noticed
you got the Cartier?

Don't you know it's gauche to ask
how much something costs, Mom?

Oh, I know. I know you'd think
I didn't do anything with my life.

But you know, when you're
spending $1,500 a month to exercise,

and your mortgage is $12,000...

This 90k that I was able to
squirrel away from alimony payments

so I could stay home with you
and not have to pay for childcare?

I put that money
towards your education,

and that put you in rooms
where you met a guy like Luke.

And I am... I am
doing my best here

to try to connect with the
Harrisons. It's not easy.

And now with this documentary?

- What's that have to do with this?
- Everything.

Everything, TifAni. Everything.

You think you're embarrassed of
me now, don't try to say that you're not,

imagine what it's gonna be like when
they find out about what happened.

They had boys.

They didn't have a girl
who developed early

and was hell-bent
on taking risks.

They can't imagine
what that was like.

I did everything in my
power to protect you.

I did. I did.

That's why I had all those
rules in place that I did.

But you didn't
wanna follow those.

That was your choice.

So fine, you know?

Just... just... just...

At least just leave
my name out of it.

I did what any half-decent
mother would have done.

I did.

You'll find out someday.

You'll find out how hard it is.

Okay.

Although if you keep pushing
Luke away, maybe you won't.

At the very least, you won't have
someone else's pile of money to stand on

while you call me gauche.

Excuse me.

TifAni.

Wait.

I'm sorry.

My mom asked
me what a cougar is.

Ah!

Okay.

Ow!

- Babe?
- Yeah?

Can we just do it the nice way?

Yeah.

Okay.

Okay.

I can't do this.
Please get off me.

Please just get off of
me. I'm sorry. I can't...

Oh my God.

I may not say everything right,

but when I try to be respectful,
it's like you can't handle it.

Thanks for taking me.

You only have a 30%
chance of getting pregnant,

but it's good to be
on the safe side.

Oh.

Never heard that before.

Liam?

I just wanted you to know, I didn't
mean to hook up with anybody else.

Dude, it's no big deal.

But I also feel like...

I think I was raped.

Are you insane?

Are you actually insane? Like...

Do you even know what rape is?

Why would you
even say that to me?

I'm sorry. I... I don't
think that about you.

- Finny!
- There she is.

Finny, if I'm still hungover,
you're definitely still hungover.

Hey, come on, come
on, come on. Let's go.

Milady.

You are an animal, FaNelli.

Hey, you two...
gotta step it up.

- You are such a loser.
- Loser?

- I think that was your job last night.
- Did you win any games at all?

- Yeah, I won two. Yeah.
- I don't think so.

I mean, if I'd lost as much as you
had, then I would have left long ago.

Oh, come on.

Luke?

"Oh, honey, why do you
have a cut on your lip?"

"Hmm. It's 'cause I'm betrothed
to a sexual deviant, Mother."

TifAni, I've told
Headmaster Mayer

about the events with the
three boys this weekend.

Are you talking about
reporting this, TifAni?

How does that
work? What happens?

The boys will be
questioned by the police.

It will need to be disclosed on
their college applications, potentially.

If you decide to go that route,

you need to be absolutely
sure what you're saying,

and that can be difficult to determine
with so much alcohol involved.

The situation has
been obfuscated.

There was no obfuscation,
Headmaster Mayer.

She said no.

Is that true? Did you say no?

I-I don't know.

I don't know.

I didn't want to.

I said, "Ow."

I just remember
always saying, "Ow."

I remember screaming
at Dean. Uh...

I tried to push Liam off of me,

but he thought I was, like,
touching his face so he kissed me.

He was really drunk too.

- What... What are you doing?
- I'm calling your mom.

Legally, I can't contact
the police regarding a minor

unless the guardian is informed.

Stop.

Stop.

No.

No.

I changed my mind.

Mr. Larson got fired.

They said he shouldn't have
let us leave the school dance.

He's the scapegoat.
Dean's fucking untouchable.

Come in.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey!

Um, that... that
belonged to his dad.

Yeah. Legacy to Columbia and a
surefire way out of this hellscape

is the only thing
he ever gave me.

- Want some?
- No.

I can't breathe.

Should we tell her?

Tell me what?

Um...

- Ar-Arthur, can we... can we just not?
- Come on, we're among friends.

Two summers ago, Dean
and Peyton showed up

to Kelsey Quick's eighth
grade graduation party.

They were all 16 and fucked
up and, you know, like...

- I thought that they were being nice.
- Oh, they were not being nice.

They said they wanted
to smoke up with us.

You always leave that part out to make
me look like I'm a fucking idiot for going.

Going where?

Well, into the woods, where
Peyton pinned Ben to the ground,

and Dean took a
shit on Ben's chest.

I heard that he ate a burrito
that day in preparation.

Fuck you, Arthur! You're
such a fucking prick, man.

Yeah, okay. Then he ran
straight to Suburban Square,

went to the Rite Aid,
bought a pack of razors,

and slit his wrists
in the bathroom.

Is that really true?

Yeah.

What? He obviously didn't cut
deep enough to do any real damage.

His parents sent him off to make
macaroni art for the rest of the summer.

Why are you like that to him?
You're acting like you're mad at him.

- I am fucking mad at him.
- Why?

He didn't do anything about it.

I mean, it's gotta be a
crime, biological warfare.

He just wanted it dropped.

And now here it
is happening again,

and here you are,

keeping that runway free and
clear for it to keep happening.

My mom can't know.

She would hate me.

Okay. Yeah, that's
what everybody thinks.

My ass got suspended, my mommy
still thinks the sun shines out of it.

No. You don't
understand what she's like.

Yeah, I really don't.

What kind of mother doesn't
strap those babies into a cable knit?

Baby, check this out.

Oh good, another cable knit.

- You like this for the first dance, right?
- No.

- What? I thought we agreed?
- No. No, we never agreed.

- We sure did.
- Oh my God!

We talked about this. Oh my God!

- Oh my God. Okay, what's next?
- And then...

Okay, well, this is the list.

- Wedding Playlist Party.
- Okay.

No, do not play.

- No?
- Do not play.

Definitely do not play.

- You don't like this song?
- No, I...

I do like the song, but
the guy's a pedophile.

- You can still like the song though.
- Right, I do like the song.

What are you not getting?

You think what you just
said makes any sense?

- Turn it off.
- No.

Turn off the song...

Luke, turn off the fucking song!

Fine.

Happy?

Aw. It's my two favorite people.

You tell the headmaster
how much you loved it?

That's so cute. That's adorable.

Damn, you really
do have a wide load.

Oh, thanks, I've
been doing squats.

Stop. Stop, let's go.

- Oh my God.
- You're cute when you're mad.

Come on, hit me. No one's gonna
stop you. No one ever stops you.

Oh, fuck him up!

It's all your fault!

Come on!

Shit.

Dean, go. Go! Get
the fuck out of here.

Go.

Oh, fuck.

- Go. Get out.
- What is going on?

Ow!

You didn't know it was Mrs.
Hurst. Why can't you just apologize?

Oh, like you did? And everything
is just peachy keen for you now?

Oh, come on, it's better
than getting expelled.

Think you're gonna
get into Columbia now?

Okay, kindly adjust
your tone, young lady.

I was standing up for my friend.

I know.

Thank you.

I don't want you to thank me,

I want you to act like you
have a smidge of dignity.

Just a tiny microscopic smidge.

I mean, you have to have
that much at least, right?

You can't be mad at me. I
didn't ask you to do any of this.

You should be mad at you.

You had a chance to take
him down, and you didn't

'cause you're so fucking
desperate to redeem yourself.

- You sound so fucking stupid right now.
- Yeah, I'm the stupid one.

I'm not gonna take Dean down. It
doesn't fucking work like that, Arthur.

You apologized to
Liam, for fuck's sake.

You apologized to
your own fucking rapist.

I mean, seriously, how
can you live with yourself?

Fuck you.

TifAni, wait, no.

TifAni, wait. TifAni.

Here. You're such
a fucking loser.

Hey, babe, I just wanna
say good luck today.

I know you're nervous,
but it's gonna be okay.

You deserve closure on this.

Love you. Bye.

Ani, you ready?

Just up here.

Uh, if you need anything,
you can feel free to tell me.

Uh...

- Set?
- Set.

Rolling.

Okay, uh, Ani, you ready?

Can you tell us your personal
experience of that tragic day?

Whenever you're ready.

You know, I... I always thought

the most vulnerable you'll ever
see a person is from behind.

Like, you can autopsy
every pore, every hair,

like they're defenseless.

I always thought it was cute

that the back of Dean's
neck had blonde hairs

when everywhere else was
dark and coarse, when he jumped.

Tif! Tif! Tif!

Come on! Come on! Come on!

Olivia!

Come on!

Go, go, go!

He had a gun. I saw him.

- Okay, okay, okay.
- Who has a phone?

Phone? Okay, okay, okay.

Ben!

No bars!

You're sad about that.

Look sad.

She didn't deserve that.

Witnesses claim that Ben said...

Hey, Tif.

As though the two of
you had an understanding.

Is that true?

Yes.

What was that understanding?

I wanted revenge too.

That he was a victim too.

Hey, Peyton.

Do you wanna go to
the woods, man? Hmm?

- Smoke some pot, man?
- Ben.

Ben, I am so, so sorry...

Ben?

Ben!

What were you feeling
when he walked away?

Was it just this
total collective relief?

You know... we all came
together at that moment,

'cause we... we knew
that we had to help Peyton.

Oh my God.

- Hey.
- No. No, no.

How is this happening?

How is this happening?

We need to get out of here.

What the fuck's that gonna do?

We need to get out of here.

- Up or down?
- The old dorm rooms are up.

Would he have gone up?

I vote down.

- Go, go! Come on! Run! Run!
- Go, go, go!

Come on!

Hurry, come on!

You didn't hold the
door open for Liam Ross.

I wanna give you the
chance to explain why.

Because I wasn't going to put my
life on the line for one of my rapists.

I guess I wasn't brave enough.

Oh my God. Oh my
God! Dean! Dean! Dean!

Dean.

Ladies.

There you are.

Arthur.

Beth. Get out of
here. I like you.

You...

Girl with spaghetti for a spine.

You know you want to.

Is it so bad that I did?

Please.

Fuck!

You know, the look on his
face, like... he was so confused,

like I was doing it
to the wrong person.

You know, to this day, I
can't hold a knife in my hand

without seeing his face.

My goodness, Ani.

Thank you.

It's going to be fine.

You did a brave thing, TifAni.

Please don't say that.

I can't believe she
showed up. So disgusting.

Can you believe that?

I didn't realize I walked into the
funeral with a target on my back.

Dean's version of events
didn't exactly match mine.

And Dean's version
of events was?

That he didn't wanna
be my boyfriend

after I slept with him
and his two best friends.

That I was jilted.

Due to TifAni having relationships
with more than one of these boys...

That I got my revenge by helping
Ben and Arthur plan a massacre.

Hell have no fury like a
woman scorned and whatnot.

Let me escort you
back to your car.

Beth?

And for the grand finale, we
were all gonna shoot ourselves.

Although only Ben
managed to do that.

You know, Dean was
never gonna walk again,

so who would
dare call him a liar?

Is it true?

I had no idea Arthur was
gonna do something like that...

Not that part, the
part about the boys!

I didn't want to, Mom.

- I was drunk. They're lying.
- Oh my God, TifAni.

This is why I say no drinking!

Well, I'm gonna call a
lawyer as soon as I get home.

Oh, what are people gonna say?

You're never charged
as an accomplice. But...

What about your
claims against the boys?

Why didn't you file
charges back then?

I just thought they
weren't worth pursuing.

Mom.

- Mom...
- No, TifAni.

No, no.

You disgust me.

I'm sorry.

You are not the
daughter that I raised.

You're lucky you have a mother who
got you a lawyer and supported you.

Not everyone has that.

Hmm. Yes.

Very lucky.

Luckiest girl alive right here.

Do you wish your mother
did more to help you?

I wish she hadn't looked at me like
I was rode hard and put away wet.

Ani, do you wanna say more
about that, or should I move on?

- Aaron, what the fuck?
- Hi, Finny.

I swear, he's not supposed
to be here until tomorrow.

- You need to get outta here.
- Wait.

Finny, please. Just
give me five minutes.

What are you doing here?
This is not what we talked about.

Ani, stay. Ani, don't go. He should be
the one to go. I'm getting him outta here.

- Finny.
- No, no. Don't worry about it.

- Ani.
- Please.

Ani, wait.

Ani, wait. Ani. Don't let
Dean run you out of here.

Think about all the women you're
gonna help by telling your story.

You're standing up for them too.

All the women will be fine.

My mother insisted I
stick it out at Brentley.

It was a lonely two years.

My classmates and I had
survived this life-changing event

that few people
could understand.

They could lean on each other.

But I had no one.

My senior year, we took a
field trip to New York City,

where I had this... experience.

I don't need to impress him.

So do you know when the
samples are actually arriving?

- You okay?
- Sorry.

No, the samples have
to be there by Friday.

Yes, Friday. Did
you not schedule it?

I'd never seen a
woman like that before.

A woman who threatened
people on the phone,

who could buy herself
expensive things,

who cut a path through New York
City simply because she looked like

she had more important
places to be than anyone else.

I just had to get
to that, I decided...

And no one could
ever hurt me again.

Oh, come on.

- Who wants another one?
- Yeah, grab me one.

One, two, three, four more?

- Yes, sir. Thank you.
- Here we go, boys.

There it is. I told you.

- You're home.
- Yeah!

Yeah.

I left.

I'm done.

It just, um...

It just didn't feel right.

You know, I'm thinking about
actually writing something myself.

Get it out of my
system that way.

I think that's really smart.

Uh...

You want a drink?

Martini, straight up,
three olives, no vermouth.

- Vodka, olives coming right up.
- Okay.

Exactly. I didn't say that.

Thank you for your service.

Please don't be mad, but I
think I'm moving to London.

You think?

Well, guess what? I
am mad, so deal with it.

What's that?

I've written something.

You think The
Times would want it?

You know what I wish
I knew 38 years ago?

It's a lot easier to
be angry with the guy.

My high school boyfriend...

could be creative.

I'm sorry, LoLo.

It's all right. There's no
need to make a scene.

Your guys, I mean, they
rot in the ground or whatever,

but the people who love you,

who failed you so miserably,

stop trying to protect them
with this vague half-assery,

and you might actually
have something there.

But for now, let me
be perfectly clear,

an approximation of honesty

doesn't make the cut
at the paper of record.

So, you know, take
another swing at it.

Write it like no
one will ever read it.

Not Luke, not your musty
in-laws, definitely not your parents.

That is how you write
something worth reading.

I mean, no one's
making you write about it.

I mean, go to London.
Go live your life with Luke.

Just decide something.

Decide.

I'm... I'm trying.

Look, I'll make it
very simple for you.

You just say what
it is that you want,

not what everyone else wants,

and then you do that.

If you tell anyone
what I just told you...

I won't.

No, about it being 38
years since I was a teenager,

I will hunt you down
and make you eat a carb.

I had a choice to
make on that day.

I could blame the world
for what happened to me,

or I could find the opportunity.

Every challenge,
every heartache,

every tragedy in life

offers an opportunity to
do something different,

to do something kind.

I told you. So inspiring, right?

I haven't heard
a word he's said.

- ...no one can ever take away that choice.
- Shh.

Look, I could admit that I lied about
your involvement in the shooting.

I was young a-and
scared, confused.

People will understand that.

But... I don't know how the hell I'm
gonna explain what happened with us.

I have a wife.

Three, two...

Daughters.

Mmm. Right at the buzzer.

And this would destroy them.

But me, I was fair game?

I was just trying to
get out ahead of you.

I was scared that you'd tell the
cops about that night at my house.

Plus, I was stuck in
this, and you weren't.

So I was so angry at you.

Do you know the difference between
me and someone like you, Dean?

Between me and an Arthur?

Because I was angry too, so
fucking angry you wouldn't believe it.

But my anger is like
carbon monoxide.

It's odorless, tasteless,
colorless, and completely toxic

but only to me.

See, I don't take my anger out on
anyone other than my fucking self.

Shh.

I didn't mean for it
to happen like that.

I was... drunk, you know?

I didn't even understand
that that is what I was doing.

Not when I was crying?

Not when I was
begging you to wait. Wait.

Wait, like we were gonna... we
were gonna talk about it, figure it out.

Do you know that
every time I start to feel

just a little bit good about
myself, I remember that I begged...

and there that goes.

If you talk about
that night, I'll deny it...

and I'll double down on my claim
that you planned it with Arthur and Ben.

And there's a lot of people
that are gonna believe me.

Are you seriously trying
to threaten me right now?

I'm trying to offer you a deal.

Okay?

You don't talk about
what happened that night.

And I'll say you had nothing
to do with the shooting.

There it is.

Look, I know I was
an asshole back then,

but I have made it my mission
to make up for that every day.

Does that... Does that
not count for anything?

Thank you.

See, I was a victim too...

but no one ever
treated me like one.

So let's just stop with
your self-pitying bullshit.

Do you know how many times
I've said the word "rape" in my life?

I know, I fucking hate that word
too. Makes me wanna peel my skin off.

I wonder if you've ever used it,

even once.

Probably not.

Probably not.

So I'm gonna sit here
and watch you squirm

while you make it a
part of your vocabulary.

Fine.

Fine.

You win.

I, uh...

I raped you.

Okay?

It's really just an
honor to meet you.

Um, thank you so much.
You're such an inspiration.

So I'm gonna sit here
and watch you squirm

while you make it a
part of your vocabulary.

Fine. You win.

I, uh...

I raped you.

Need a lift?

Good riddance, TifAni FaNelli,

welcome, Ani Harrison.

You belong here.

You do.

I'm sorry. One second.

One moment.

Yeah. Of course.

Okay.

Yeah. Thank you.

Oh my God!

- Um, I'll... I'll catch up with you.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey.

Um...

Can we go talk?

This is running in
The New York Times?

Yeah.

How could you not
tell me about this?

I'm sorry.

I guess I... I just
don't understand. I...

I always thought you
had moved on from all this.

I admired you for that. I
thought you were so tough.

So tough that I try to skip the
part where I hurt about this?

No. Until I do that,
I'm just a fraud.

Fine, but can't you
work that out privately?

Do you have to get into the
nitty-gritty details for the whole world?

Those guys... were going around
making fun of the shape of my pubic hair.

They were making fun of
the sounds I was making.

- So yes, the nitty-gritty matters to me.
- They're dead.

And one of them is in a wheelchair.
Haven't they paid for their mistakes?

- Their mistakes?
- They fucked up. I'm agreeing with you.

No, no, no. A... A fuck-up is when you
take your parent's car without permission

and... and scratch the paint.

A fuck-up doesn't even begin to
encompass what they did to me.

Ani, it's our fucking
rehearsal dinner.

How are we talking
about this right now?

God! You used to be so
different. You used to be so fun.

- Fun?
- Yes, fun.

We used to have fun
together. I miss that.

I don't know if I'm fun.

I don't know what's me

and what part I invented
to make people like me.

God, I used to be
so proud of that. I-I...

I thought it was this chameleon who
was so much smarter than everyone.

So much smarter that I don't
even know a thing about myself.

Hey, hey. I don't believe that.

We can get back
there. Hey, stop.

We can get back there.

I love you. You love
me. We can figure it out.

No.

Do you remember the time
you said you felt like a box

that I just checked off?

I do love you...

But I've been using you.

I resent you.

It's not... It's not fair.

You're not the one who hurt
me, but I... but I take it out on you.

- I've never felt like you resent me.
- Because I'm like a wind-up doll.

Turn my key, and I'll tell you
exactly what you wanna hear.

I have denied myself
and denied myself.

I'm fine.

I'm not hurt.

And it has... it has built
up this rage inside of me.

Look, I... I should've faced
up to all of this sooner.

I... I just think that
I need to do it now

without worrying about what
you or anyone else thinks about it.

Is this really
happening right now?

It's like LoLo said,

an approximation of
honesty won't make the cut.

And that's what I had with Luke.

I hate that I hurt him,

but this is where I belong.

This is what I always wanted.

I'd be lying if I said
I wasn't suffering

from a mild case of
phantom limb syndrome.

But maybe things
are brighter without it.

"If you read one thing today,

it should be Ani FaNelli's essay
in New York Times Magazine."

"I sent it to every woman I
know, and so should you!"

Oh, Dean Barton is so fucked!

Oh my God!

- Ooh! Get up!
- I'm up!

You're going viral!

- Oh my God.
- Ugh! Wait, do you... do you have any OJ?

Yeah, I keep the
Sunny D in the side door.

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

She's a funny writer girl.

Look it!

Look at this!

You look amazing.

Ah! I'm so proud of you.

I just finished reading your
piece and am utterly haunted.

Thank you for speaking up.

From someone who has always felt
like no one would listen to her anyway.

I cried reading your essay.

Thank you for putting
it out into the world.

I was also assaulted by a
guy I thought was a friend.

Hearing your story gives me
hope that one day I can tell mine too.

I was raped while
completely unconscious.

The lines about coming to

hit me so hard.

I never told anyone,

not even my husband.

When I sat down to write this essay,
the goal was to avenge my reputation,

maybe stick it to the
people who hurt me.

But it's become so
much more than that.

- Ani. So nice to meet you.
- So much more than me.

Of course. Thank you.

Now, I read your op-ed...

It's about the importance
of all of us speaking freely,

even if people wanna silence us.

So that we can become the kind of
women our younger selves would admire.

I'm hearing from women who
have never shared their stories,

from women who have
carried this horrible thing

with them alone for 38 years,

and I just hope that no one
has to ever do that again.

I hope that people feel
compelled to share their stories,

to talk about what
happened to them,

and to know that you have
nothing to be ashamed of.

Wow.

Ani, thank you so
much for being here.

- Of course.
- Truly inspiring story.

Thank you.

TifAni FaNelli, right?

Yeah.

Sarah Gardener. I cover
public health for Bloomberg.

Okay.

Gun control is under my domain.

I've covered Dean Barton's
career quite extensively.

He's helped a lot of
people over the years.

Let's hope your 15
minutes of fame will too.

Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

Excuse me. I'm so sorry. I...

I would love to stay in touch,
but I already forgot your name.

- It's Sarah Gard...
- That's okay.

I'll just remember you as the woman I
told to go fuck herself on 5th Avenue.

Gotta work on that
delivery, FaNelli,

but fuck that felt good.