Today is a big day – she's interviewing local billionaire Christian Grey for the college paper.
She's called into his office the second she arrives.
"Is that... Is that a fucking panda?"
Anastasia trips into Mr Grey's office.
He rushes to help her up.
"Seriously?"
"You didn't come yet full stop. Christian Grey: dominant, billionaire, fuckboy, protagonist."
Ana sits, looking like she's never used a chair before, and begins the interview. Christian is being evasive.
"Miss Steele. Ana. There's no need for such formalities."
"But I literally just... Never mind."
"I'm 27. I'm the billionaire CEO of a company that does things. I have the face and body of a literal god. And you're asking me about Frozen?"
"But these aren't even my questions!"
"OK. Um..."
"..."
"I'm kidding! Jesus. Such a Tia."
"Ha. HA. If only you knew how much sex I had, Miss Steele. It's a lot. A LOT. I'm literally dripping in sex."
"I thought maybe it was constipation."
"Wait. You want to know about me? I bottle up my feelings, I wear muted colours because I'm afraid of expressing myself, and I have major body image issues."
"Well, you made that hard, didn't you, Mr Grey?"
"Anastasia –"
"Christian."
Outside it's begun to rain, and Ana embraces the inclement weather.
Since she's just a lowly English major making her way in the world, Ana works in a hardware store.
And because he's a billionaire CEO with a company to run, Christian has plenty of time to go hardware shopping in the middle of the day.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"You didn't come yet full stop."
"Touché."
"I don't think so. You're nice and all, but I'm going to say no. I mean all you think about is sex. You're obsessed."
"Sex. I mean, it's for sex. I mean, fucking. Dammit, it's for reasons, OK?"
"Sure. You're just 50 shades of misunderstood, right?"
To prove he's not entirely about sex, which he totally is, Christian sends her expensive first editions of what he assumes are her favourite books.
"You're still going to fuck him though, right?"
Ana gets drunk on like, one beer, and booty-calls Christian.
Christian is not impressed.
He tracks her down at the bar she's drinking in, scares off her amorous friend, and holds her hair while she vomits.
"Are you going to let me Bleak your House?"
"Ana –"
"Chill out, Grump of Grump Hall."
The next morning, Ana wakes up in Christian's bed.
"God, no. Neither. Noooo. I'm classier than that."
"I'm not into necrophilia. My tastes are very..."
"Enlighten me, then."
"Mmmm..."
"No."
"What?"
"It's complicated, OK?"
Ana leaves, confused and suddenly in the mood for chickpea-based dip.
He presses her into the wall, and utters one of the great romantic lines of our time.
"Fuck the paperwork? How about fuck me."
That night, Christian flies Ana to his penthouse in his helicopter, which he pilots himself. Not that he's a hyper-masculine fantasy construct or anything.
"Well, damn, dude, there goes my book deal."
"Two things: I don't make lo..."
"Yes."
"Oh."
"Jesus, dude. Drop the act. I mean, the helicopter, the penthouse, the bravado. It's like a 13-year-old girl just described her perfect man. Be yourself."
"Fine."
Christian takes Ana to a room down the hall and flips on the light.
"OK, not exactly what I had in mind, but whatever chokes your chicken, I guess."
"No. I'm the dom, remember?"
"Oh, Christian. Always so serious."
"I have rules. If you follow them, I'll reward you."
"Thanks for explaining how that works. I had no idea."
"Anastasia. It's never your turn."
"OK. We'll see about that."
"Oh, one more thing. Be gentle."
"Really?"
"Christian, I'm kidding."
"Oh shit, you so had me going! I was like, WHAAAAT."
Christian undresses Ana and lies her on the bed.
"Yes, I got that, thank you."
"Would you like me to get some lube?"
Afterwards, Christian plays his grand piano while Ana sleeps, because that is a thing that real people do.
In the morning, Christian drops Ana home.
"I will. And you think about what I said."
"I told you, that's not my speed. But fine."
"Wait... 'Laters, baby'? Seriously?"
"Yes. That was a joke. Haha me. Well played."
True to her word, Ana starts to let Christian experiment.
Tying hands and feet.
A little spanking.
Until it's time to graduate to the playroom.
Where it all goes leather cuffs and riding crops.
"Oh, Christian! Give me your Moby Dick!"
Things get a little rough.
"Oh, Christian!"
"Fuck, Ana, you're twisting my Oliver!"
"North... anger..."
Things are going well, until they aren't.
"Ana. It won't be your turn."
But Ana can't let it go.
"I need you."
"Is this about the contract? I can’t just give blanket consent to everything."
"Fuck the contract."
"I’m scared, OK? I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what I’m doing any more."
"I'm scared too. But I’m here. We’re in this together, Christian."
"Ana –"
"You know what I need."
"No. I don’t know. It’s all I know."
"Well, I like letting you have control. Because I trust you. I like the way you touch me."
"You know I do."
"Then prove you trust me."
"I..."
"What do you want to do to me, right now?"
"I want to bend you over."
"I’d like that."
Christian walks away, frustrated.
"You know what I want."
"OK."
In the playroom, Christian undresses Anastasia.
"One."
"Buckle my shoe?"
"Yes, sir."
"Give me some more."
"Ana, I can't."
Upset, Ana grabs her things.
"If you're such an Elsa, then let it go already. I'm the dom."
"Christian."
Ana heads home, heartbroken.
She remembers happier times with Christian, like dancing in the penthouse.
