Following a short pause Bette’s voice was now the one pleading with the blonde to respond, “It’s been a week since anybody has talked to you, we would appreciate it if you were to give us a sign that you were still amongst the living.”

Alice reached down and grabbed a shoe that was next to the coach and flung it at the door, unfortunately she had never had the greatest aim, so instead of hitting its intended destination the shoe slammed into a lamp sitting a few feet away. The blonde shook her head as tiny shards of glass flew across the floor.

On cue, Bette’s voice returned, “That’s it, I’m going to get the super.”

Before Bette could leave, the door swung open to reveal a very disheveled Alice, but before Shane or Bette could say anything the door slammed shut.

“Now you know I’m alive, so please leave me alone.” The writer’s voice was shaky and rough from a week devoted to nothing but crying.

“We’re not going anywhere, Alice. So be a good girl and open the door long enough for us to actually enter your apartment.” Alice could hear the determination in Bette’s voice, and she knew that meant nothing she could say or do would change the art director’s mind, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to put up a fight.

“No”

“Open the door.”

“No”

“Yes”

“Go away.”

“Alice, if you don’t open this door I’ll be forced to tell Shane about the night we took a walk on the beach and you…”

Before Bette could finish her sentence the door flew open, “You always play dirty, Porter.”

Alice turned around and made her way back to the coach with Shane and Bette following close behind, “Let me guess, Dana told you guys she dumped me, and now you’re here to rally around my pathetic ass.”

Shane flipped on the light switch and squinted as her eyes readjusted, “First off we don’t think you’re pathetic. Second we love you, and we came because we were worried.” The hairstylist took a quick glance around the apartment, “and to add a third to that list, we are defiantly here to help you clean up.”