Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

Shit, I thought. After hustling to get Jessica back up here and getting the fear of God instilled in
me for it, everything was being rescheduled.
“Why?” I asked.
“Something’s come up with Kendra that they want to shoot instead,” Hef managed, barely
making eye contact with me. At that point, we all knew Kendra had one foot out the mansion gate and
was in talks with E! for her own spin-off series. The producers were starting to put scenes into place
that would set up her eventual exit.
Recently, Kendra and I had been getting along really well, but as I had a full-time real job with
actual responsibilities, I wasn’t really thrilled about having to rearrange my work schedule for one of
her last-minute whims.
“We always have to move stuff for Kendra,” I said, half joking, half hoping he would change the
schedule back, while applying face lotion in the vanity mirror and mentally preparing to reorganize
my entire workweek.
Hef stopped in his tracks and looked right at me.
“Stop being such a fucking CUNT!” he screamed, his face bloated and red with his hands
clenched into fists.
My mouth fell open in disbelief. In seven years, I never once heard that word cross his lips. And
now he wasn’t just saying it, he was calling me it . . . his girlfriend, the supposed “love of his life.” I
sat there staring at him in total shock—unable to move a muscle or even cry.
After what felt like 30 long seconds of him glaring at me with his jaw clenched so hard, I thought
he might crack his teeth, he stomped his foot like a child and scuffled back into the bedroom.
Over the years, I’d dealt with a lot: the Mean Girls, the crazy rules, the irrational outbursts, and
the repugnant bedroom routine. Because Hef so convincingly wore his “Gentleman Hef” act at all
other times, I was able to make excuses for him. But this was it; after being screamed at for no good
reason twice in one day, I was freaked the hell out. There was no way I could fool myself into
thinking Hef was a nice guy anymore.
In that moment, I didn’t care if I couldn’t find someone to love me outside of the mansion,
because it was crystal clear no one on the inside loved me, either.
I needed to find someone to talk to, someone who could understand all the pressures I was under
but wasn’t trapped in the same bubble as I was. Maybe I could get some advice and a fresh
perspective. I eventually decided on one of Hef’s friends, since he knew Hef well and certainly
understood the degree to which I was bound to the show.
“I can’t take it anymore,” I confided to him two days later. I sat down with my chosen confidant
to discuss what had been going on in my private life. I was already in the midst of filming season five,
but I felt like I couldn’t keep up the charade another minute.
Bridget had come in earlier and placed a box of Sprinkles cupcakes on the table. I cut myself a
piece of one and passed the rest across the table.
“Just hang in there,” he said, unwrapping the rest of the cupcake. “He cares about you. He didn’t
mean it.”
He paused for another moment, sensing this wasn’t giving me any comfort. Twisting up his face