Ain’t nobody dope as me, I’m just so fresh so clean

Don’t you think I’m so sexy I’m just so fresh so clean(so fresh and so clean)

Ain’t nobody dope as me, I’m just so fresh so clean(so fresh and so clean)

I love when you stare at me, I’m just so fresh so clean

The music stops suddenly, and it forces me to look at him again. I frown. This is the third time he’s stopped in ten minutes. I wish he wouldn’t stop. I wish he would keep going, so this nightmare would finally end. He’s starting to take over me, my thoughts. I want to run and hide from him, but there isn’t anywhere to go.

“Can…can you just…” he sighs at me and snaps his fingers at his assistant. “Maureen! Maureen I need you!”

Maureen rushes over to him, a spare camera in one hand and a clipboard in the other. They start speaking in hurried whispers, as if this photo shoot is the most important thing they’ve ever done together. It’s really starting to piss me off. I’ve been here for three hours already, and he’s only gotten one roll finished. He keeps telling me I’m not focusing…that I need to work with him…

I don’t know what the fuck he wants me to do. I’m already sitting like he’s told me to, with my shirt hanging off of my shoulders, and my fly partially unzipped. He’s lucky he got me to do that. I’m so fucking uncomfortable, and his staff…they’re all standing in the background watching me…studying me with their eyes. I wonder…can they see it? Can they tell what I am? Do they know my secret?

“Here.”

I look up and take the bottle of water from him. I swear to god, if he wasn’t here today I don’t know what I’d do. Trace is the only one that can keep my head level right now. Without him, I’ll fall apart. But as much as I appreciate him being here, I don’t thank him. I just unscrew the bottle cap, and guzzle the water down eagerly.

“You can stop, ya know,” he tells me. “If you’re tired or whatever, we can always come back tomorrow Justin.”

I shake my head roughly. I don’t want to put this off. If I do, I’m going to end up spending more time here than I want to…half naked. It’s too hard for me, and I can’t do it. “No,” I grunt. “I’ll do this today and get it done.” I get up from the little stool and stretch out my cramped muscles. It feels good. I don’t take things like this for granted anymore. Being able to move freely…being able to run and dance and stretch, it’s not something to be taken for granted. I’ve come to learn that physical freedom is a privilege, and when you lose it…you feel small, weak…and hopeless.

I learned that the hard way.

“You wanna go to Chi today?,” Trace asks me, as he pops another mini disc into his camcorder. “Sally’s been asking when you’ll be by. She wants to show you the new equipment that came in.”

I shrug. I can’t think about any of that right now. I’m too tired…I’ve been through too much this morning. Having to expose my body to strangers used to be easy for me, once upon a time. Now though, it’s like pulling teeth. I hate how they all look at me. I hate how they point and whisper to each other. What the hell are they saying? Can they see something on me…inside of me? Can they see past this front I put on for everybody? Can they tell that…that I did that unspeakable thing? I don’t have an answer, and being uncertain is worse than knowing the truth. “I dunno,” I mumble. “Maybe.”

Trace sighs a little, and begins to toy with his camcorder. He doesn’t pester me about my emotional state. He knows I’m having a bad day, and that the best thing he can do right now is back off. He has no idea how much he helps me when he backs off for a little while.

A few days after I got home, the FBI turned up my missing ransom money. It was hidden in a closet on the upper level of that house. I wasn’t happy to get it back. Those bastards touched that money…Shane touched it. It was dirty money, and I knew I would never be able to spend it. I told my mom that too, but she said I was being ridiculous. She told me it was my hard earned money, and that I should put it right back into the bank where it belonged. But I didn’t. I put half of it into my charity, and the other half…I gave to the Tripton’s. Giving the Tripton’s that much money was probably too generous of me, and I got a big lecture from both my mother and my accountant about why I shouldn’t have done it. But their words didn’t affect me much. If the Tripton’s had turned us away from their doorstep that morning, I don’t want to think about what might have happened to Kerri and I. We could have been wandering around for days looking for help…if we didn’t tear each other apart before then.

I spoke to Craig a few days ago. Apparently he cashed the check the other day, but he told me he still didn’t feel right about profiting off of my misfortune. I told him that I didn’t want him to feel that way, that no amount of money could repay him for what he did…and that I wanted him and his family to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. I mean, it’s not like the guy can’t use the money. He’s got four kids, that he’s going to have to put through college eventually. And Shelly, she’s almost at that age now. I would never take the money back. I think he knew that, and I guess that’s why he tried to make plans with me to go fishing, instead of trying to pressure me further about the situation. I assured him that as soon as my schedule got a little less hectic Trace and I would take him up on his offer, and I managed to end the conversation on a light note.

The news about the kidnapping spread like wildfire. For those first two weeks, I couldn’t pick up a newspaper or turn on the television without seeing or hearing something about the case. Just as I thought, my phone, Trace’s phone, and my mother’s phone were all ringing off the hook. Everybody wanted and interview, and I had to oblige to the more prominent newspaper reporters and news broadcasters. But I told them I would only grant the interviews if they agreed to leave Kerri out of them. They agreed with me, but I wasn’t really surprised. The public would rather hear my side of the story anyway…everybody knows that.

In all, I probably did about six interviews…each one harder than the last. Each reporter seemed to get bolder as I went along. They wanted to know all of the gory details…how, why, when, and how. I had to describe it…how we were forced into the back of my car…how I got the crap kicked out of me. One guy even told me that Shane was an alleged rapist, which wasn’t news to me. The police told me a lot about Shane after I’d been checked out of the hospital, and most of it was information that I didn’t want to know. But I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Shane was clearly messed up, and he did what he did without a second thought for my well being. He didn’t care that I might live through it…that I might have to remember it all for the rest of my life.

I didn’t falter though. After all this time…nobody knows about what we did together in that room. I guess I’m a little proud of myself for being able to withstand this intense emotional burden. But at the same time, it hurts like hell holding it all in. Sometimes the pain gets so intense, I end up throwing up, or throwing wild tantrums. I’ve scared Cameron a few times. She’s tried to get me open up, and I haven’t wanted to. Once I threw a bottle of beer across the room, because I was so angry that she wouldn‘t leave me alone. I didn’t throw it at her of course, but it scared her all the same. It scared me too.

We worked through it though.

Once my ribs were mostly healed, my mom suggested that I spend some time with my father and the boys down in Florida, so I could get a change of scenery. I thought it was a great idea. I still felt guilty that I hadn’t gotten to spend the amount of time with my brothers that I wanted to, and I knew a trip out to see them would set things right again. What happened to Kerri and I was hard on Jonathan, and he let me know that when I called him to tell him I was coming. He’s old enough to comprehend what a kidnapping is, and after I returned home safe, my father and Lisa sat him down and explained everything to him. Part of me wishes they hadn’t, only because I know how scary the whole thing was for me. From a kids perspective, especially a sensitive kid like Jonathan‘s, what happened to me must seem a million times worse than it was…if that’s possible.

Steven is still a little young to understand everything that happened. I’m not sure what the conversation involved, but I do know that my father had a little talk with him before I came, and tried to explain that ‘Justin went through a scary time’. I think he might have understood a little bit. He asked me about it one day while we were watching his cartoons together. He wanted to know if the boogie man came out of the closet and took me away. It scared me a little bit, because in a childlike way…that’s exactly what happened to Kerri and I. I told Steven yes, and his eyes got really wide. ‘But you said the boogie man was fake’, was his response and I wanted to die. I knew my answer would put a million scary thoughts in his mind, that would cause him to have horrible nightmares in the middle of the night. I felt like an asshole, because Lisa and daddy had been working really hard to rid him of his fear of the dark. I tried to take back what I said to him of course, but it was too late. He was convinced there was really a boogieman, and that if it got to me, it would get to him. I had to sit down and tell daddy and Lisa what happened. They reassured me that it was okay, but in my heart, I knew they were upset about it. They’re the ones who have to deal with him if he wakes up at three am, screaming.

I’m always fucking somebody’s life up.

Cam, Trace, and Elisha came down to Florida with me too. But the time I spent with Trace was limited. He was out with Elisha a lot, getting some much needed quality time in. The first few weeks after the kidnapping, they didn’t get to spend any time together, because Trace was in Tennessee with me and Elisha was back in LA filming her show. I felt really, really bad about keeping them apart for so long. I know Elisha is the girl Trace has been waiting for his entire life. She’s the only one of his girlfriends who hasn’t used to him to get closer to me, and when I see them together, I know she’s as in love with him as he is with her. He’s going to put a ring on her finger soon, I’m sure of it. Man, I can’t wait. Trace deserves it. He deserves to be happy, and so does Elisha.

Trace’s absence gave Cameron and I the chance to reconnect. More and more I would find my self laying on the couch, or outside on the hammock with her. She would let me lay my head in her lap, and she would run her fingers through my hair. I would talk to her a little, and try to tell her the things that were on my mind. I tried to talk about Shane, but I found that my throat would close up every time I tried to get the words out. It was like, my mind wouldn’t allow me to talk about it. Like, I wasn’t allowed to or something. I managed to talk about the kidnapping a little, but it wasn’t anything major. Trace is the only one I’ve been able to really talk about the kidnapping with, but I guess that’s because Kerri told me I should…

I can’t think about Kerri right now.

I have to give it to Cameron though, she really tries. She really wants our relationship to survive through all of this. Out of everybody I‘ve talked to, she’s the only one that hasn’t pressured me with a million questions. She sits with me, holds my hand, and listens. She never mentions what happened to Kerri and I, unless I bring it up. Trace and momma and daddy, they always bring it up. I know they’re only trying to do what’s best for me. I know I need to open up more and talk about it…but I just can’t do it right now. I think Cameron has known that from the beginning, and she respects that too. I don’t think she knows how much that means to me. I’d tell her, but I’ve found that since everything happened, it’s been hard for me to express my feelings that way. I used to be a very emotional, spiritual person…but I know I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t pray as often, I don’t ask the Lord for his guidance anymore. I have no motivation for that anymore. I know we lived…I know we got the hell out of there, but the nightmare didn’t end there, and it still hasn’t…at least not for me anyway. I can’t pray to a God that let something so disgusting and horrible happen to me. So, I’ve turned my back on Him for now Instead, I rely on myself. Sometimes it works, and I’m able to calm myself down. But then there are those times….those times where I can’t get the pain to stop, and I have to resort to something else. Something so horrible, it makes me sick to my stomach to know that I do it to myself.

I was raised to believe that confiding in your family and friends is the best way to resolve your problems, and I used to trust in that belief with my whole heart . But then I was raped, and everything I‘d ever trusted and believed in didn‘t matter anymore. I live my life one day at a time now. I tremble, I cry, I look over my shoulder when I walk down the street…and I trust no one. Trace…Trace is the only one who knows the truth about me. He doesn’t know that I was raped, but he knows…he knows I’m not okay. I guess I can live with that. He’s not just my friend, he’s my brother, and he’s always there for me. He knows his place too. He doesn’t try to force things out of me, unless he’s really pissed off or really worried. But even then, I put him in his place, and he backs off. I think he knows he has to, or else…I must just push him away too.

Cutting myself isn’t something I’m proud of. Half the time, I don’t realize how badly I’ve injured myself until I wake up the next day and get a really good look at my cuts. I’m so afraid that one of these days I’m going to blank out and slice my wrists open or something. Shane will be there, egging me on…and I’ll just…I’ll just lose it. God, I don’t want to die. I really don’t. I know I need help. I know I should go talk to a psychologist, or at least tell momma what’s going on with me. But I can’t find the strength within myself to tell her. I’m afraid of what she’ll say to me, or what she’ll think of me. Self injury is an extremely difficult situation…I read about it online the other day. The article said that everyone reacts differently…family, friends, and girlfriends. Sometimes they can accept it, and get you the help you need. And other times, they’ll be too horrified to know what to do. I’m not risking that. The people in my life have been through enough. Besides, I’m not a stupid guy. I’m sure if I’m careful, and pay attention to what I’m doing, I won’t be able to injure myself that badly.

“Okay people!” The photographer claps his hands a few times, and the music starts up again. I glance over at Trace, and sigh heavily. He smiles a little, and opens his mouth to say something…but then his phone starts to ring, and he is distracted by the call.

“Justin,” the photographer says to me. “Just, go back on that block again. I need you to look…sexy. Wait! Not sexy…don’t think sexy. Sexy is too timid for you.” He covers his mouth with his hand, and ponders something for a moment. “Think…hungry. You’re hungry…thirsty for sex. Show me you want it.”

I cringe. Doesn’t he know? Wait…no, he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. I steal another glance at Trace, but his back is turned to me, and his phone is pressed to his ear. I’m sure he’s talking to Elisha. She’s the only one that can get him to tune me out completely. I bite down on my lip, and make my way back over to the little stool I was sitting on before. The make up lady rushes over to me and opens my shirt again, but I pull away from her and shoot her a dirty look. I don’t want her touching me. I don’t even…I don’t even let Cameron touch me that way, unless I’m having a really good day.

“Take your shirt off, Justin,” the photographer says to me, his smile sickly sweet.

I swallow hard. I don’t want to….

I cover my ears with my hands and close my eyes. I see Shane standing there, half naked, with that disgusting smile spread across his face. Go away…Go away Shane. And he does. I’m taken back home…back to Millington, and I’m on the porch swing. I see Kerri, and she’s so perfect, so beautiful. I want her to wrap her arms around me, and tell me that I’m okay. I want to tell her…I want to tell her so much. Kerri?

She smiles a little bit. Her cheeks are that pale shade of rose. They always used to turn that color after we would kiss, and then she would smile. Perfection wasn’t the word to describe her. I miss you. I hear her say.

I reach out for her, but she doesn’t come any closer to me, and I find that I can’t move any closer to her. My feet seem glued to the ground, and I’m forced to remain seated on the porch swing. I didn’t mean to push you away.

I open my mouth to tell her. I know I’ll feel better once this is all off my chest. I know she won’t tell. Kerri, I was…

Don’t tell her. Shane appears behind her, his gun pointed directly at her. Kerri doesn’t seem to notice that he’s there though, and I’m thankful. She doesn’t deserve to know. If you tell her, I’m going to have to kill her, and I really don’t want to have to do that to you right now…

Justin

Yeah, Ker. I say to her. I’m here.

“Justin!”

I snap back into reality. Trace is kneeling before me, his hands on my shoulders. He’s shaking me a little. “Justin, snap out of it.”

My eyes widen. What the hell just happened? “Trace?”

He seems relieved that I’ve answered him. “Come on,” he says. He pulls my shirt back on, and buttons it up. “You’re done for the day.” He helps me to my feet, the worried expression on his face not going unnoticed by me.

I can’t leave though. I mean, this is work. We’ve been putting this shoot off for weeks now, and I know its time to get it done. “Trace, no…just…we have to finish this.” I pull away from him, and sit back down on the stool.

“No,” he grunts. “Fuck the shoot Justin…you don’t need it. You have enough stuff going on right now.

You’re…you’re messed up, and I’m not going to let them do this to you anymore okay? No more half naked shoots.”

My brow furrows. What the hell does he mean by that? “What?”

“We’re done,” he tells the photographer. “You have enough pictures of him.”

“I can hardly say that one roll is enough,” the photographer snorts. “We have a cover to do here.”

“It’s only one picture.” Trace grips me by the arm and pulls me away from the stool. “You’ll find one.”

I’m so confused, that I start to let him lead me away. Then I realize how foolish I must look to everybody, being pulled away from this shoot like I’m some kind of retard that can’t think for himself. I’m not about to walk out of here, and let them all form the opinion that I’m a little pussy. I need them to think I’m strong, cool…confident. I roughly yank myself away from Trace. “Stop it,” I snap.

He sucks in a long breath. His eyes almost look glazed over, and I don’t know if it’s because his allergies are acting up, or if it’s because he’s upset. Trace doesn’t cry though, at least not in front of me… so I’m figuring it must be his allergies. “I’m not going to stand around and watch you get torn apart again,” he whispers. “You’ve been doing better, up until now.”

I really haven’t been okay though. I’m just really good at hiding my emotions from everybody. After I first returned home it was hard for me to keep my feelings locked away, but over time, I learned how to do it well. And now, it’s like a second nature to me. I can be hysterical one moment, and then click over to this fake happy go lucky guy a moment later. I guess it‘s another talent of mine…if you could even call it a talent. I pat Trace on the shoulder, and flash him a reassuring smile. “Trace, I’m fine.” I pull off my shirt, and somehow manage not to flinch, knowing that my body has now been exposed to the photographer and his staff.

Trace shakes his head. “You weren’t fine a minute ago,” he informs me. “You were blanking out again, Justin. Damn, I know you’re not okay. I know that…I know this kind of stuff makes you uncomfortable.”

I swallow hard, but don’t let my smile fade. I hate to admit it to myself, but I know he’s starting to get an idea of what Shane and I did. Trace is with me almost everyday, and he can tell what makes me uncomfortable. He knows this photo shoot has been making me uncomfortable from the start. No fake smile of mine is going to make him reconsider his thoughts. Maybe it’s time I tell him about Shane…about what we did. I think I might be able to trust him…

Maybe?

“You need help,” he tells me. “I’m about to call up your mom, and have her come out here. I think it’s time you sat down with us and told us the truth. I know something happened to you in that place. And I know you feel like you can’t tell us about it,” he nods. “But you need to, Justin. You need to tell us.”

This isn’t fair. Now he’s threatening me with my mother? He’s supposed to understand. He’s supposed to back off. He’s not supposed to stand here and expect me to admit that I had sex with Shane. I mean, what the fuck? I can’t just talk about it. I…I can’t. I can’t and I won’t. I reach into my pocket, and feel the tension leave me when my hand closes around the blade. I need to calm down…and there’s only one thing that’s going to calm me down right now. I glare at him, and his bold expression crumbles. “I need to use the bathroom.” I push past him and start for the door a few feet away.

“I don’t understand you,” I hear him say. “You used to be able to tell me everything.”

I stop in my tracks and turn back toward him. His expression is full of pain. It’s almost like he feels I’ve betrayed him. But he can’t understand, because he doesn’t know. And I can’t tell him. “Let it go,” I whisper.

He nods. “I guess that’s the only thing I can do.” He doesn’t say anything else to me. Instead, he walks over to the photographer and starts talking to him. The photographer doesn’t look happy, and I’m assuming Trace is either rescheduling the rest of the shoot, or he’s simply canceling it. But I don’t even care anymore. I reach the bathroom door, and push it open. The bathroom is a good size, and I’m glad because its’ really hard to do…what I do…in a small space.

I pull my blade out and begin to pull my pants down. I only cut myself on my thighs, because it’s the one place on my body that is almost always hidden from the cameras. I used to sleep in my boxers, but ever since I started this shit, I always wear sweatpants. Cameron always asks me why, because usually, she doesn’t sleep in anything but a little nightgown. I tell her that I get cold at night, but I don’t think she believes me. It’s hurting us too…because sometimes she’ll try to come onto me and take my pants off, but I won’t let her. She gets really confused when I won’t let her touch me. Hell, she’s really confused as to why I haven’t wanted to have sex with her at all since everything happened. I’m afraid. I’m afraid that she’s going to get tired of waiting around for me, and leave. I really don’t want her to leave. She makes me feel safe at night. When I have a bad dream, even if I won’t tell her what its’ about…she always seems to know exactly what to say and do to make it all okay. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

I’m sitting on the floor now, surveying the skin on my legs. A lot of my cuts have cleared up. It’s been nearly a week since I’ve done this. But that’s okay. It means that there is plenty of space…yes, plenty…

The blood feels so good against my skin. I close my eyes, and let the pain numb my fears away. Nothing can hurt me now…

Not even Shane.

It’s one thing to be thrown into a situation that you have little or no control over. It’s another to have that situation snatch your sanity away from you, leaving you hopeless, and afraid of the world and the people you love. For the first time in my life I’m unconfident in myself. I close my eyes at night and think bad, dark thoughts about myself. Often I don’t want to live…and I never want to talk about how I feel with anybody. I know Trace is fed up, and I know Cam doesn’t know what else to do to make me feel better. That’s why she decided ‘it would be a really awesome idea’, if we all hightailed it over to Hawaii for ten days. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t tell her that. I’m tired of making life hard for Cameron. All she wants to do is love me, and have fun with me. I owe it to her to give her a little slack. I mean, there was a point in time that she thought I wasn’t coming home…but she waited for me. She didn’t just say ‘oh well fuck him’. I can’t give up. I have to keep going. I have to make her happy…I want her to be proud that I’m her boyfriend….

But the lack of sex in our relationship isn’t helping the situation at all.

Sometimes she tries it…in the middle of the night, or during a hot afternoon. Cameron has this way about her. She’ll get really silly, and really riled up and she’ll just want to go at it out by the pool, or on my kitchen floor. Before everything happened to me, I used to love it when she would get that way. She took sex to places I’d never been to before. She made it so much fun…so enjoyable and relaxing. When I was with Britney, sometimes sex seemed like a burden. When we would reunite after one of us had been away on a long tour, it almost felt as if the sex was keeping us together. I mean, I did love her…but at times I wondered if I loved her for all the right reasons.

I won’t let Cameron do it to me anymore though. I’ll shift away from her, or turn over so my back is toward her. Then she’ll ask me if I’m okay, and then I’ll let out a fake yawn and tell her I’m tired. Yeah, that worked for the first few weeks…but now I know that she’s not buying it anymore. She knows there’s something seriously wrong with me, but she’s so afraid of upsetting me that she won’t talk to me about how she feels. It makes me feel bad, because Cam and I used to be able to talk about everything and anything…we didn’t’ have secrets. That was the best part of us. But now the secrets are surrounding us, burying us in their deception. We can’t escape them…not until I come out about what happened with Shane. And I know that’s not going to happen…

Ever.

“It’s so beautiful out there.”

I unpack a few more of my t-shirts, and put them into the drawer before turning to face her. She’s standing near the sliding glass door, gazing out at the beautiful Pacific. I bet the water is really warm right now. It’s the perfect time of day to go out for a swim, or a surf. Cam taught me how to surf a little bit before the second leg of the tour started. I remember we went out in the middle of the water, and she showed me the basics: how to balance, how to grip the board with your feet. Then we just sat there and talked, and made out. And I realized that I was starting to fall in love with her. I wish I could go back to that time. I wish there was some kind of time machine hidden on this little island. I would jump inside of it and rewind my life back to that day, and I would make sure not to go pick up the cake for momma when the time came. God, I wish like hell I could feel normal again.

I slowly make my way across the room and over to her. I lightly place my hands on her shoulders and rub them a little bit. My hands start to tremble as they make contact with her smooth ivory skin, but I quickly gain control of myself. “Why don’t you go out there baby,” I suggest.

She looks over her shoulder and smiles at me a little bit. “Because you’re in here.”

I bit my bottom lip and tear my gaze from hers. “Don’t worry about me babe. I’m just not in the mood for the sun right now.”

She shrugs. “You’re never in the mood, Justin. For anything.”

I frown and pull back from her. I’m here aren’t I? I could have just told her that I had ‘stuff’ to do…but I didn’t did I? I came, I’m here, and all she can do is complain. I feel like screaming all of this at her, but I don’t. It would only start an argument that I’m positive I don’t want to deal with right now. So I’ll just go sit over there and watch the TV, while she sulks by the window…

The door swings open suddenly. I gasp and nearly jump out of my seat. My hands grip the arms of the chair tightly, hanging on for dear life. Who’s there? I’m shaking now…

“What are you two doing inside?” Elisha steps into the room and shoots me a disapproving look. “It’s fucking beautiful outside, and Trace just fired up the grill. That guy at the service counter gave him a kick ass recipe for Mahi Mahi. I don’t want to be the only one to take on the adventure,” she whines.

Cameron laughs, and turns around. Her sad expression has been replaced with that playful, energetic one I used to love. “Trace is making fish?,” she giggles. “I have to see this.”

She holds out her hand to me, and her expression is telling me that I better get up and stop spoiling our time. But I won’t take it. I’m so fucking miserable. I just want to crawl inside myself and die. I don’t want to go in the sun. I don’t want to watch Trace and Elisha make out by the grill, as if everything is perfectly fine. I don’t want to see Cameron sit at one end of the deck, while I sit at the other. It will make me more uncomfortable. I’ll start to sweat…I hate sweating…

I’ll just stay in the air conditioning and watch Judge Judy.

“Justin.” Elisha is standing over me now. “Come on, we’re in Hawaii. You can’t tell me sitting in here is better than watching Trace attempt to cook us dinner.” She smiles at me and then sticks her hand out. “Please say you’ll come outside.”

I fold my arms across my chest, and shoot both of the girls a stubborn look. “Maybe in a little,” I say quietly. “You guys go outside, and I’ll see how I feel in a bit.”

Cameron says nothing to me. She only sends me another hateful look, and storms out. I hear the door slam shut after a moment, and it causes me to flinch a little. Man, I feel like a real asshole right now.

Elisha doesn’t move from her position. But I guess I should expect this from her. At times, she acts so much like Trace it scares me. She cares about me…like a sister would. I don’t get it. She hasn’t known me that long, and she doesn’t know how moody I can be. But I don’t think she cares. She’s a friend.

I guess I should be thankful that she isn’t giving up on me right now.

“What’s going on today?,” she asks me. “Trace says you’ve been quiet.”

I shrug. “I’m not in a talkative mood today,” I say to her. “Do I have to smile twenty four hours a day, ‘lish?”

“Nobody said that,” she tells me. “We’re just worried about you, Justin. You’re our best friend and we want you to be okay.”

“I’m as good as I’m going to get for now.“ I get up from the chair and open the door for her. As much as I know she wants to help right now, I don’t want her to. I want to be left alone…I need to be alone. “Don’t worry about me. Just go out there and enjoy yourselves, okay?”

She sighs. I know she wants to push me more, but she won’t. She knows my temper has been running short lately. Hell, when we were on the plane flying over here, I practically lost my mind because I couldn’t find my fucking walkman. I think I scared everybody, but I didn’t’ care. Music helps me tune out the world…it helps me hide from the reality of my life. Without it, I have to face everything. It’s a good thing Trace packed a spare CD walkman that day, or I might have punched him in the face.

“Well, how about I come back and get you when the food is ready?,” she offers.

I force a smile. “That’s good,” I say. “I’ll see you then.” I don’t even give her the chance to say goodbye. I practically push her out the door, and shut it in her face. I know that was a shallow thing to do, but I can’t deal with Elisha and her questions right now.

I’m happy to be alone.

I sit myself down on the couch and turn the TV on, hoping there is some mindless sitcom on that will pull me away from reality for the moment. I flip through the channels for awhile, trying as hard as I can not to land on a news station. I did that once…about a week ago. I turned the TV on, and the five o’clock news was on. They were talking about the kidnapping, and I nearly vomited all over my carpet. That would have sucked too, because I had just gotten it shampooed a few days before hand. Somehow, I managed to hold back though, but I couldn’t change the channel. I was frozen…my body had lost all of its feeling. All I could do was sit and stare. And then…then they showed his fucking face. ‘Shane Loman’, they called him. Loman. The name made my heart start to race and my head start to spin. It still does. Loman…Low man. A lowly man. That’s what he was…that’s what he fucking turned me into. Yeah me, and his little friend. The news people said they were brothers…the police told me that too. It explains why they looked alike.

Shane Loman had a huge record with the police and child protective services. He’d been in and out of jail since he was sixteen. And it was all in relation to domestic disturbance…and sexual abuse. They labeled him a ‘sex offender’. That’s not right term for him though. He was so much more than that. I can’t even think of a good term…because the words probably don’t exist in the English language. I guess reptile is a good way to describe the bastard. Or scum. A scummy reptile.

I cringe. His face is right there in front of me…floating in the middle of the room. I blink my eyes a few times, but it doesn’t help. He starts to take form. First the neck. Then the chest and arms. Then the lower torso and legs. Now he’s right in front of me. I’m numb, and I can’t tell how badly I’m shaking or anything like that. I can’t move…I hardly breathe.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

I feel a few warm tears make their way down my face, and I’m thankful for them. I’m thankful I can feel something. “Don’t,” I grunt at him. “Get out.”

He smiles, and makes his way across the room and over to me. He begins to caress my face with his hand, but somehow I find the strength to slap it away. “I said don’t,” I snap at him.

He doesn’t listen though. He pushes me down on the couch and gets on top of me. Then he starts kissing me, and…and touching me. I try to push him off of me, but he’s so heavy…like dead weight. I can’t move him. I’m weak again, and I start to cry. “Stop it!” I cry. “Get off!”

“Justin?”

It’s not Shane’s voice. It’s somebody else’s. I look up into Shane’s evil black eyes, and he smiles and disappears. I sit up quickly, and try to wipe the feeling off of me. I brush harshly at my shirt and jeans. I smell myself…I don’t want to smell like him. But there is no smell, and my clothes…they aren’t wrinkled or anything. What the hell happened?

“What’s the matter J?”

I look up and see Trace standing over me. How long has he been here? I straighten myself and quickly turn back to the TV. “I’m cool,” I say pathetically.

Trace doesn’t respond, but he does roll his eyes. Who am I trying to kid? Trace knows me…better than anybody. He knows that I’m not okay, and I’m sure it’s pissing him off that I’m trying to come off like everything is fine. But then, I always do this to him, so I guess he’s used to it.

“Here.” Trace hands me a beer, before taking a seat next to me on the couch. “Drink it. It’ll calm you down.”

I’m about to tell him that I’m calm enough, but then I don’t, because I know he wont’ want to hear it. Instead, I do what he tells me to do. I raise the bottle to my lips and guzzle down the cold beer. It feels good, and it makes me want to drink about ten more. But I know I can’t do that. I don’t want to become dependant on alcohol or drugs. I already do…what I do. If I went down that road…the chemical dependency road…my life would truly be over.

“You’re really pissing your girl off,” Trace says after a few minutes. “You should go out there and tell her that you’re okay or something.”

I finish my beer and put the empty bottle on the little table in front of me. “She’ll be okay.” I try to sound convincing but fail miserably. “I’ll go outside later on. It’s just too hot right now.”

“Too hot? Justin, it’s beautiful out there. Come on, take off your shirt, and put your trunks on. It’s perfect weather for it.” He stands up and takes his shirt off. He balls it up in his hands and flings it onto the couch. It lands next to me, and I can smell the faint scent of his cologne. I pick up the shirt and drop it onto the floor. The smell of men’s cologne makes me nauseous these days…any kind. I won‘t wear any, it reminds me of Shane. Man, I’m so lame.

“Maybe we’ll get tans this year,” he laughs.

I try to join him in his amusement, but I can’t. Trace knows damn well that every summer we say we’re going to get those surfer tans we’ve always wanted, we only end up getting bad sunburn in the end. I’m not getting it this year though. I’m really uncomfortable taking my shirt off in front of people as it is. If I get sunburn, I know Cam is gonna want to rub some aloe on my back and shit. Then she’ll have to touch me…like he touched me.

I’ll just stay in the air conditioning and watch Judge Judy.

“Come on man, what the hell are you waiting for?” He stands in front of the television and places his hands on his hips. “I cleared out your schedule for this shit, J. You need to enjoy yourself. In a month or two, everything is going to be back to normal again. We’re going to be rushing around…we have the club tour, and then Europe. If you don’t relax now, you’re going to regret it. And then all I’ll hear is ‘damn, Trace…I just want a break’.”

I can’t help but glare at him. I don’t want to , but he’s making it sound like I’m this big ungrateful bastard. I appreciate everything he’s doing for me…I really do. But it’s like he doesn’t know how grateful I am to him. It’s pissing me off. “I am relaxed,” I snap. “I’m sitting here in the air conditioning, enjoying an afternoon of pointless sitcoms. How is that not relaxing, Trace?”

“You’re shutting us out,” he nods. “I walked in here before, and you were like…freaking out again. Is that supposed to make me think that you’re relaxing?”

I grit my teeth and ball my fists tightly. He’s really pushing it right now, and I’m pretty sure he knows that too. But Trace…he’s too bold to give a damn. I don’t realize that I’ve stood up, until I find myself standing in front of Trace, my face pressed close to his. I start to shake a little. I’m afraid…I’m really close to him. What if I lose it and like…kiss him or something?

“What J?,” he scoffs, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to punch me in the face because I care?”

I feel like I should hug him, and break down and tell him everything. If I told him…I would feel so much better. I would be able to go outside and enjoy myself. I wouldn’t’ have to worry about people finding out. I could just go and talk to Trace about it all. I mean I’ve always done it in the past…he knows everything about me. What’s one more secret? What’s one more…

A freak. That’s right. I am a freak. I slap his hand away and back away from him. “Don’t touch me,” I snarl. “Just leave me alone.”

Trace’s nostrils flare, and his face turns a little red. He’s pissed…at me. I can’t remember the last time Trace was really pissed off at me. He has a really bad attitude when he’s pissed off. I tremble harder. I don’t know what he might do if he reaches the breaking point.

“You’re a fucking mental case.” He points his finger at me roughly as he says the words to me. “And I’ve put up with it this far, but I don’t know how much longer I can do it. I know something is going on with you. I see it on your face every day. It’s like you’re lost…and you can’t find your way back. And Justin, you won’t let me fucking help you!” he yells. “Don’t you know that it kills me more every time you shut me out of your life?” He runs his hands through his hair, and down the back of his neck. “I feel like I’m losing my best friend here. I mean…Justin…” his voice quivers a little and he sucks in a breath. “I don’t know who the hell I’m dealing with anymore.”

I try to say something to him, but I know anything I could say right now would just piss him off more. I’m not going to confess to anything. So, anything I tell him will be a lie. I look at the floor. Don’t give up, Trace, I beg silently. Not yet. “Please don’t be mad,” I manage to say, still keeping my gaze on the floor.

But then I hear the door open and shut. I look up quickly. He’s gone…and I’m all alone…

Fuck.

I sat in that room for a long time after Trace walked out on me. I sat on the couch, and just thought… I thought about a lot of things. The kidnapping, Shane…Nathan. I thought about how much it was affecting my life, and my family and friends. I tried to reason with myself. I tried to make myself believe that right thing to do…that the only thing to do, was to go and tell my three friends that I did indeed have a problem. A much bigger problem than any of them could imagine. I paced back and forth across the room frantically…biting my nails and talking to myself. At one point I was crying hysterically. I wanted to tell them…I wanted to do it so badly. But every time I started toward the door, Shane would be there blocking my path. He would remind me how much of a freak I was, and how I would look in the eyes of my friends and my girlfriend if I went out there and confessed. And I fucking agreed with him. I didn’t want to…but I knew it was the only way to make him go away.

Then I went into the bathroom and did…what I do. I guess I zoned out for a while, because one moment I was cutting like I always do, and the next moment I had this huge cut on my leg. The blood…I mean it was everywhere, and I started to panic, because I didn’t know if I could get the bleeding to stop on my own. I was afraid that I would have to go and get Trace or Cam, and show them what I was doing to myself. That was the last thing I wanted, and I was determined to handle the situation myself. I thought back to boy scouts. Our scout leaders always taught us that if you apply pressure to a cut, you can make the bleeding subside, no matter how deep the cut is. I put that knowledge to work, and tied a towel around my thigh. It took a little longer than I would have liked, but eventually, the bleeding stopped. I haven’t cut myself since that day, but the cut I gave myself is a constant reminder of the pain I’m in. It’s taking awhile to heal, and I’m constantly putting a clean bandage over it. I probably could have gone to the doctor and had them check it out, but of course I didn’t. Then somebody would know…and I can’t have that happen.

The water is really nice today. I’ve been trying hard to kick back and have a good time ever since Trace and I had our talk. It’s kinda working I guess. I mean yesterday I spent the whole day laying on the beach with Cam, under that little covered cabana thing. It was cool. It was very peaceful…and I actually let Cam get closer to me than I normally do. We were laying there, and her arms were wrapped around me. She didn’t try to come onto me or try to touch my stuff…because she knows better. I was thankful for that, and I found myself being able to relax for the first time since our little vacation started. It was still really hot though. The temperature reached almost ninety seven degrees, and I wouldn’t take my shirt off. I know it was stupid of me…I mean, nobody was around me but my best friends and my girl, but I still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of exposing my body. It’s going to take a long time for me to be comfortable with that sort of stuff again…probably too much time.

Yeah, the water is really nice today, but I’m not enjoying it as much as I did yesterday. But I’ve been in the water a lot more today than yesterday. The saltwater is starting to irritate the cuts on my legs, despite the expensive body suit I’m wearing. The leg with the really bad cut feels like its on fire, and it’s pissing me off because I know I can’t just roll up one of the legs on my suit and try to make the feeling go away. No way…not in front of them.

“Would you snap out of it,” Trace snickers and splashes some water my way. It glides up over my bad leg, and I wince in pain. It burns.

“Fuck,” I can’t help but unleash the obscenity from my mouth, and I clutch my bad thigh. I close my eyes and bite my lip. Dammit, it‘s really starting to fucking hurt..

“What’s the matter?”

I open my eyes again. Trace’s expression is full of concern. Stay calm, Justin. Tell him it’s a bug bite. “It’s nothing,” I manage. “I just got this nasty bug bite on my leg, and the water is getting to it.”

“Shit,” he sighs. “I hate those.”

I nod, but don’t meet his gaze. He bought it…right?

“Elisha has this stuff,” he suggests. “It’s this after bite cream…that’s waterproof. She put it on this bug bite I got the other day.” He holds up his arm and points to a small red mark on his arm. “It’s fuckin awesome stuff. Come on, we’ll get some.”

“I’m fine.” My eyes widen and I shake my head, probably more roughly that I should. “It’s too hot to get out of the water right now.”

He laughs at me. “Our rooms are air conditioned, Justin.”

I let out a pathetic, “So,” knowing that I really don’t have another excuse as to why I don’t want to go get the cream with him.

“You want to suffer all day?,” he smiles, and begins to wade toward the shore.

Of course I don’t, and I know I need to agree with him before he calls me crazy and leaves me by myself again. “I’m coming,” I tell him, and begin to follow him toward the shore. As we draw closer, I can spot Elisha and Cam lying in the sand…topless. I wish to god that this was the past. If this were the past, I would run up the beach, grab Cam and take her inside with me. Right now, my heart is telling me how badly I want to be with her…but my mind is screaming at me, telling me that I can’t let her get too close. I draw in a deep breath, and barely smile at Cam as Trace and I make our way past them. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Damn, J. We’re two lucky bastards to have those girls lyin on the beach like that,” he tells me. “I can’t wait ‘til tonight. I made reservations at that fancy place that Elisha pointed out on the car ride here. She’s so excited…like, I haven’t seen her so jumpy about dinner since we first started going out.”

I try to smile. I’m happy that he’s enjoying our time here. If we were all miserable, this whole vacation would be a waste. “That should be fun,” I say lightly. “You gonna go somewhere after?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I don’t really know what’s around here. I was gonna ask the guy at the service counter if he knows any good lookout points. Elisha was saying how she wants to go watch the stars or some shit,” he tells me Then he winks and says; “And you know what that means.”

I know what it means. I wish like hell I could be planning a night like he’s planning. With Trace and Elisha gone, it means Cam and I will have this whole place to ourselves…the beach…the condo…everything. It’s been such a nice day too…I’m sure the evening is going to be awesome. It will be warm…not chilly, and I’m sure all the stars will be out. I should have that chef guy come and cook us a romantic dinner…I bet Cam would like that…

I bet she would like to have sex with me after too.

We reach the condo, and Trace starts to dig through Elisha’s purse once we get inside. It’s one of those big mesh beach bags, and it looks like it has way too much stuff in it. I see him scowl and curse while he searches, complaining that Elisha has too much shit, and that he doesn’t know how he’s going to put up with it once they are married and settled into their house. I smile a bit. It’s weird to think of Trace as a married man. He won’t be the same. He’ll stop partying hard on the weekends. He’ll start spending more time at home, with her, and they’ll start having a lot more sex, if that’s even possible. In about a year, she’ll pop out their first kid…yeah, then he’ll never be around. I wonder if he’ll even have time to spend worrying about me.

It scares me that I might not rank so high on his priority list in a years time.

“Here it is.” Trace smiles triumphantly as he pulls a small tube out of Elisha’s ‘purse’. He drops the bag and its contents to the floor, not seeming to care when half its contents spill out onto the carpet. He swaggers over to me and unscrews the cap. “Let me see the bite,” he says.

I feel my body stiffen and I fold my arms protectively across my chest. “Nah, it’s nasty,” I manage to say in a laid back tone. “I’ll go in the bathroom and do it.”

Trace rolls his eyes. “Oh come on…stop being such a pussy. I showed you mine.”

He takes another step closer to me, and I take a step back. “No…just give me the cream. I’ll let you see it after, when it’s not all gross.”

He laughs, but gives in and hands me the tube. “Man, you’re so…weird. I mean, it’s just a bug bite. It’s not like I’m going to molest you.” He bats his eye lashes and makes a faggy swishing motion with his hand. “You’re not my type.”

I don’t laugh. I don’t smile. I don’t blink. I barely breathe. All I can do is stand here and stare at him and wonder: Does Trace know something? Can he see it on my face? On my body? Does he think I’m gay? I open my mouth and almost allow the questions to slip out, but then I catch myself. Stupid, pay attention. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell him quickly. I turn on my heel and walk briskly into the bathroom, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. I press my back against the door and let out a long sigh, before sliding myself down to the floor. I place the tube of cream beside me on the floor, and then roll up the legs of my body suit. I grimace when my cut is exposed. It’s all red, and irritated. There is sand inside the gash, and I’m sure it’s a big part of the reason my it hurts so bad right now. I make myself stand up, leaning hard on my good leg as I do so. I take a towel and wet it with some cold water, before applying it to the cut. I let out a soft yelp as the towel makes contact with my wound, but I don’t allow myself to become louder. I know Trace is still standing out there, waiting for me. I won’t let him find out…

I manage to get most of the sand out of my cut, before I apply the peroxide and the fresh bandage. I hate putting peroxide on it. It’s the worst part. I have to close my eyes and hold my breath to keep from crying out in pain. Then I put the bandage on, and I let out a relieved sigh. I think I’ll be okay now. I bend down and pick up the tube from the floor, making sure to squirt some cream out of it so Trace will think it’s been used when I give it back to him. I run the faucet and quickly splash some cold water on my face, hoping it will make me feel relaxed and renewed before I go out to face the world again…

“How much longer do you think you can lie to your friends?”

I gasp and lift my head out of the sink. I see Shane in the mirror, and I whimper a little. Damn, why now? This day was going fine…I didn’t think he was going to show up and spoil it. “Not now,” I whisper. “Please.”

“It’s inevitable you know,” he informs me. I see him stand behind me and then…his hands are on my shoulders, rubbing them gently. “Eventually, they’re going to find out what happened between us. Eventually…they’re all going to find out what you really are.” He bows his head and I see him start to kiss my neck. I can’t feel it though, and I realize that it must not be real.

I push him away from me angrily, and turn around to face him. He’s not there though. I’m alone. It was just an illusion…it had to have been. I shake my head roughly and rub my hands over my face. “Please stop,” I say softly. “You got what you wanted from me…now just…just let me handle it in my own way.”

I hear a tapping at the door, and I know it’s Trace. I look in the mirror quickly and realize that I’ve been crying. I take the towel and rub my face with it, trying to get the tear stains off of my face. It doesn’t help…it’s still obvious that I’m upset. What now? What do I do? I can’t stay locked in the bathroom…I need to go back out there.

“Justin…what are you doin? Are you takin a dump?” Trace cackles from outside the door.

I don’t respond. I simply roll the legs of my body suit down again, and push my way out the door and back into reality. Trace has a magazine in his hand. He says it’s Cosmopolitan and that he’s going to read the sex section because Elisha says it’s the only reason why Cosmo is worth buying. I smile and nod, even though I don’t care. My cut is still a little sore, and what just happened with Shane has worn me out a little. I really don’t feel like going back outside, but I know I have to. If I don’t, I’m only going to end up pissing everybody off…and I don’t feel like ruining the day. So I’ll just go and sit on the beach and talk to them and act like I’m perfectly fine. Hell, I might even lay down with Cam. I think I could use her reassurance right now, even though I won’t let her get too close.

**************

Cameron cooked. It was weird, because I didn’t even know she knew how. It turns out, she had taken the time to plan out the entire evening for us as soon as Elisha told her that she and Trace were leaving the resort for the night. I’m really impressed. I mean, the girl went all out. She had all this special gourmet food delivered, like Hawaiian fish, and vegetables and shit. It was all stuff I’d never heard of or tried before. She didn’t want me to help her either. I think she enjoyed making the night special in her own way, because lord knows…I’ve done a lot of special shit for her in the past. It was fun watching her cook. I could tell she was getting a lot of enjoyment out of it. It felt good to see her smile…to see that light in her eyes again. The food was amazing too. Like…I never knew she could cook like that. I told her once we get home I’m going to stop getting take out so she can cook for us more.

Then she laughed, and told me that she would cook for me for the rest of her life if it meant that I would be happy all the time. Then her smile sort of faded, and I didn’t say anything because…well, what could I say? I know I’m miserable all the time, and it can’t be helped…

I think she’s trying to get me to open up tonight. That’s something that I’m not prepared to deal with. I hope she doesn’t try to push me anymore. I don’t want to argue with her. I just want to have a nice relaxing evening, watching a movie or playing monopoly or something. Can’t it just be that simple?

“You know,” she speaks up, while turning the volume on the TV down a bit. “Elisha said she and Trace might check into one of those little bed and breakfasts we saw on the way up here.” She meets my gaze and smiles softly. “And if that happens, I wouldn’t think they would be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

I swallow back the panic that starts to rise in my throat. “Yeah,” I say. I reach over and take the remote from her. I start to channel surf quickly, hoping to find a good movie that will take Cameron’s mind off of…trying to seduce me. Sex…I feel chills start to run up and down my spine. I can’t do it with her…I can’t.

“Baby,” she coos, and I feel her hand running through my hair a moment later. “We’re all alone.”

I drop the remote, and I feel my body start to quiver. I look over at her, and see that look in her eyes. That sexy playful look I used to love…the look I used to miss like crazy when I was apart from her. She wants me so bad right now. She wants to kiss me and show me how much she loves me, and cares for me. I guess I should feel good about this. I mean, the fact that Cameron still wants me as much as she did before the kidnapping, is telling me that she is in this for the long run. She doesn’t want what we have to fall apart, and she misses being intimate with me. Hell, maybe I can do this. Maybe I can forget about Shane…just for tonight, and let Cameron have her fun. I should try…I should.

I feel myself smile, and force myself to kiss her on the mouth before my conscience can stop me. She wraps her arms around me and kisses me with equal passion. She’s hungry for this. She needs this, and I need to give it to her. I feel my shirt being pulled up over my body, and then over my head. I’ve been exposed, and I know I’m uncomfortable, but yet…I don’t stop her. I let her push me down on the sofa, and then she gets on top of me…

And then…that’s when I see him.

I don’t know where Cameron is now. She’s gone, she’s suddenly been replaced by him. His expression is heated, hungry…like an animal who has just gotten hold of it’s prey. I realize what’s happening to me all too soon, and I try to struggle and get away, but he pulls out his gun and presses it to the middle of my forehead. I try to scream, but no sound will come out.

“Behave,” Shane smiles. “Behave and everything will be okay.”

“No,” I whine. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip. I feel him turn me over onto my stomach. God no…not again.

“Stop it!” I scream. “Don’t’ do it!! Please don’t’ do it!” But I never feel my pants coming off, and I never feel that horrible sensation that I felt that day. Actually, I don’t feel anything at all right now. I don’t feel his body weight on top of me anymore, and I find that I’m able to turn back over. Cameron is on the floor, staring up at me like I’m some kind of freak. Her shirt is half unbuttoned and her hair is a frightful mess. I gasp. My cuts…

I look down and I am never more thankful when I see that the only thing that has been exposed is my chest and stomach. My pants are still on, concealing the horrible secret that lies below the surface. But my relief is short lived. Cameron…she’s crying. She doesn’t know what happened. Hell, I don’t’ even know what just happened. I think I blacked out or something. “Cam.”

She slowly staggers to her feet, and I do the same. I try to make my way over to her, but she backs away. “Cameron?”

“What the hell is the matter with you?” she sobs. “Why can’t you let me do things with you Justin? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I…I wish I knew.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say, and it’s a total line of crock. I know exactly what’s wrong…Shane and I had sex and I can’t get past it. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you some kind of freak?” she snaps at me. “I mean, god…it’s like you turned gay on me or something!”

Her words hit me hard, penetrating my already weakened surface, and burrow their way inside my shattered soul. She figured it out…she figured it out just like Shane said she would. I can’t even look at her now. I’m shaking, crying…I don’t know what to do. I think I hear myself cry out for her, but I can’t be sure. It doesn’t matter though. She’s not moving…she’s not making any attempt to comfort me. She’s enraged…that I would push her away like this.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she sobs. “I can’t just…stand by and watch you dwindle away like this. You don’t talk to me…you don’t let me in, Justin. I want to help you…I really do, but you’re not letting me…you’re not letting anyone. And…” She runs a hand through her hair, and sniffles loudly. “And I’m done okay? I’m done with you.”

I start to tremble. I think about what it will be like with Cameron out of my life. I’ll be in that big house all by myself. I’ll sleep alone. When I wake up crying from one of my nightmares, she won’t be there to lull me back to sleep. I’ll have to handle all of the pressure…all of the pain completely by myself. God, what if I start to drink a lot, or start to do drugs? “Baby,” I whimper, reaching out for her. “Baby…baby please don’t leave me alone. I can’t make it alone.”

She backs away from me even more, and shakes her head. “You’ve been handling this on your own since you came home, Justin. Me being in the bed with you has just been a bonus. I can’t just be a bonus anymore. I love you too much, J.”

She loves me. I feel the anger begin to boil inside of me. She loves me but she’s about to walk out on me. How is that fucking love? “You don’t’ love me,” I bark. “You never fucking loved me.”

She shakes her head sadly. “That’s not true, and you know it. It‘s just…you‘re not the same guy you were before. You‘re so insecure, and so closed. You never talk to me, Justin. We always used to be able to tell each other everything. I can‘t just…be in this relationship and be left to wonder…” her speech cuts off, and she stares at me for a moment, like she knows something but she doesn’t want to tell me what it is.

I clench my fists and suck in a breath. “To wonder what?” I whisper.

“She knows.”

My eyes widen, and I see Shane standing next to Cameron. He has that sick little smile on his face, like he knows everything, and I’m just a moron who is wandering along blindly in this huge ocean of fucked up memories.

“I told you she’d figure it out,” he laughs.

“No!” I yell at him, not even caring that Cameron is seeing all of this. Hell, she already thinks I’m crazy, what’s one more incident? “She doesn’t know shit!” I walk over to him, and grab him by the scruff of his shirt. I cringe when my hand makes contact with him. It’s so weird…this can’t be real.

“You tough now Justin?” he says menacingly.

Then I hit him, and it feels so real that I have to let him go and shove him to the floor. I hear a scream, but it sounds too feminine to have come from Shane. I rub my hands over my face, and prepare myself to face him again. But when I look…Shane isn’t there anymore. In fact, I don’t’ think he was ever there. The only one on the floor is Cam. She’s clutching her face, and sobbing uncontrollably. My mouth gapes, and I back up a little. Oh my god. What did I do?

“Cameron,” I say, hardly above a whisper. I crouch down, and try to do something…anything. I reach out and try to move her hand away from her face so I can see the damage I’ve done. But she won’t allow me to get near her.

“Don’t touch me!” she screams. She quickly gets up from the floor, and pushes me away from her. I let her. She can do whatever she wants to me now. I deserve it…I deserve everything. I just…I just fucking hit my girlfriend. “Get out Justin!”

I try to do what she’s asking, but I find that I can’t move from my position. I’m scared, I’m shaking, crying…I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve turned into this big ugly monster. One that needs to be ‘taken care of’. Dammit, I should have let Shane kill me when he had the chance. At least then Cameron wouldn’t have to go through something like this. “Cameron.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say and I don’t even know why. It’s not like she’s going to console me and tell me that it’s okay that I hit her. No way…she’s freaked out. She’s…she’s afraid of me.

“Get the hell out of here!” she screams.

This time I’m able to do it. I turn and I run out of the house. I can still hear her crying, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I run, I run for what seems like forever. Then I feel the water flowing over my feet, and I realize that there is nowhere else to run. I come to my senses a little. I’m on the beach now, standing in the sand bank. The water is warm, even though the sun has long since set. It’s nice, and I know if things were different…Cam and I would be out in the water, naked and shit…

But things aren’t different. Jesus Christ, I just…I hit her. I sit down, not caring that my jeans are getting soaked, and that the salt water is going to ruin them. I don’t care about anything right now. I wish like hell that a big wave would come and sweep me out to sea, and drown me. Then I wouldn’t have to live with what just happened…I wouldn’t’ have to be this fucking monster…

I stagger to my feet a moment later, and gaze out at the ocean. Curiosity strikes me, and I start to wonder just how long it would take me to drown if I walked out into the deep part of the water. Would I suffer long? Would it be a scary death? No…no the water would just go up over my head. I would close my eyes and wait until my lungs gave out. It would be easy, painless. I could do it…

I take a step, then another….

And then my phone starts to ring.

Should I answer? I mean, maybe it’s momma. If it’s momma, I could probably say goodbye. I think I at least owe her that, after all that she’s been through. I dig the phone out of my pocket, and answer. “Hello,” I whisper.

“Oh my god, so this is still your number?” I hear a drunken cackle at the other end of the line, and I grimace. I know who it is. Kerri’s timing has always been impeccable. I want to hang up, I’m…I’m dealing with something horrible right now. I should hang up. I start to bring the phone away from my ear, but stop when I hear her say my name.

“Justin…are you there?”

“Yeah,” I say. “What…what do you want?”

She’s silent for a moment. I hear a lot of noise in the background. There’s loud music, and laughter…she must be at a party. But if she’s at a party, why the hell is she calling me?

“Don’t’ you know what today is,” she asks me with a silly laugh.

I don’t’ feel like playing her stupid game. “No.”

“Well…today…” she slurs. “Is the day we had sex!”

My mouth gapes open. How is this possible? How is she gonna call me up like this, on today of all days, and bring this shit up? More so, how the hell did she keep track of this shit? God, fuckin psycho. “Don’t call me anymore.”

“Just cus you don’t want to ‘member,” she informs me. “It don’t mean I don’t ‘member. Dayum, you’re such a fucking PRICK. I luffed you Justin, and you made me feel so good then. I still luff you, like a lot. It makes me so sad all the time…” her speech is cut short and I think that she‘s started to cry. I hear somebody talking to her in the background. It sounds like it could be Siobhan but I can’t be positive, because I know she has a lot of friends over there. Whoever it is, sounds like they are trying to get her to calm down though…and I wonder just how wild Kerri has been tonight.

“I would ‘preciate it, if you would join me in this convo, Justin,” she continues, stupidly. You need to shay sumting. Don’t act like you don’t ‘member. I know you ‘member.”

I don’t want to hear this. I don’t…I don’t have the patience right now. I don’t even say goodbye, or anything like that. I snap my phone shut, and then…I stare at it for a few moments. It starts to ring again, and I see that it’s Kerri calling me back. God, doesn’t she know? Doesn’t she raelize how fucking unstable I am? Wait…no, she couldn’t, because I don’t call her…ever. But that’s because she didn’t want me to. She left me. She left me all alone, and the only thing I could do to make myself feel better was slice myself open. I still have that scar too. COME BACK. It’s on my inner thigh, and every time I look at it, it reminds me of her. I hate being reminded of her.

The phone won’t stop ringing, and I get so angry, that I throw it into the ocean. I see it glint in the moonlight before it crashes into the water. It’s gone…that’s how easy it is. I could do that to…be gone like that. But…but I just can’t do it. I’m too weak to walk, my knees start to shake, and then I collapse onto the sand. I’m shaking uncontrollably. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t even feel myself reach into my pocket, but then I see the blade in my hand, and I quickly pull down my jeans and boxers. I stare at my damaged skin. I see the scar…come back. And then I start…I start to make fresh cuts… I see the blood running down my legs and onto the sand. It’s weird, it makes the sand kind of clump together, like cat shit in a litter box. And I’m so busy thinking about cat shit, and Kerri, and hitting Cam that I don’t’ even realize that I’ve brought the blade up to my arm…until I feel the blood start to drip down onto my leg. I look…I did a lot of damage to my forearm. It’s cut wide open, and I start to freak out. I can’t hide this. There’s no way to do it.

“Justin! Where are you!”

Shit, it’s fucking Trace. What the hell? I thought he wasn’t coming back until tomorrow sometime. I realize that Cam must have called him. Of course she did. She’s freaked out, but she’s still worried, and so she called him and told him to get back here. I start to panic, and I try to make the bleeding on my arm and thighs stop, but there isn’t enough time. I hear Trace’s voice again, and it’s getting closer. He’s going to see. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the hell do I do?

“What the hell are you doing down there?”

I look over my shoulder, and I see Trace standing a little ways up the beach. He’s still too far away to be able to tell what I’ve done to myself, and I know I need to take a desperate measure to make this bleeding stop. I take a handful of sand, and rub it into the cut on my arm. It hurts like hell though, and I find that I can’t stand the pain. “Fuck!” I scream. I clutch my arm and roll over onto my side. Fuck. I can’t hide this. I know I can’t.

I see Trace running down the beach, and then…he’s standing over me. I look up at him, but I wish I hadn’t. His expression is so frightened. He doesn’t know what to think, and I know I don’t have the strength inside of me to make up some lame ass excuse as to why I’m bleeding right now. So…I just start to cry, like the little faggot bastard that I am. “I’m sorry,” I sob pathetically. “Trace I’m so fucking sorry.”

His mouth opens, and he seems to want to say something…but I guess he can’t find his voice. He slowly crouches down beside me, and then I see the tears in his eyes. “Justin,” his voice cracks a little, and he covers his mouth with his hand. He shakes his head slowly and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t hate me okay,” I whimper. I close my eyes, but then I open them again. I don’t want Shane to come. “Don’t let him hurt me anymore,” I hear myself say. “Please.”

“It‘s…you’re okay, J.” He helps me to sit up, and pulls me toward him. He brings my arm into the moonlight, and when he sees what I’ve done, his frightened expression falls into a saddened one. Then his gaze falls onto the rest of it. He sees the cuts on my legs, and I think he’s figured it out. He knows that this has been going on with me for a long time. He’s probably blaming himself right now. He’s trying to figure out how he could have missed it. But it’s not his fault. Not at all.

“Push him away.” I see Shane again. He’s standing off to the side, and his eyes are filled with rage. “Don’t you fucking tell him!” he shakes, pointing an accusing finger at me.

But this time, I can’t keep quiet. I grab onto Trace’s arm tightly, and start to panic. “Don’t let him touch me…please Trace, I hate it when he touches me. I swear, I only did it because I had to. I’m not gay…I swear to god, I’m not.”

“What?” He tilts his head to the side, and looks at me curiously.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve just…damn it, I’ve just told him. He knows. He knows what I did. Oh no. Oh…no… I look up to see Shane’s reaction, but he’s gone. Now it’s just me, and Trace. And Trace…my god, he’ll never look at me the same way. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I whimper. “Please don’t hate me, Trace.”

He shakes his head. “Justin, wait…what are you trying to tell me?”

I shudder, and I know that I’m going to vomit in a few minutes. “I…” I pause and can’t help but let out a few more sobs. This is so fucking hard. I…I shouldn’t tell him. I don’t want to lose him. I need him to stick around.

“Justin,” Trace whispers. “Justin…did he rape you?”

I try to lie to him. I try to shake my head and tell him no, but I can’t. I just…I can’t. “He had sex with me,” I manage, just above a whisper. Then I lose control and I find myself crying into Trace’s chest. I feel him pull me into a hug, and I know that we probably look like a fucking gay couple right now. But I don’t care. He’s the only one that can understand. He’s the only one that cares enough about me to want to understand. Well…that’s not entirely true. I mean I have momma and daddy…but they’re a lot different.

“You’re okay,” he whispers. “You’re gonna be okay.” He keeps saying it to me, but I don’t’ know what to think. I don’t see how I can be okay now, that my secret is out. I had sex with Shane, and now Trace knows the truth. How can I ever be okay now?

I don’t ask him any of this of course. I just continue to cry, until I can’t cry anymore. Then he helps me pull my pants back on, before he helps to my feet. He keeps a firm grip on me while we make our way back to the condo, so I won‘t fall over or whatever. I’m still bleeding, and I’m sure the blood is all over Trace’s clothes and shit . It‘s so weird, I‘ve never realized just how strong Trace is until now. I mean, I‘ve told him all of this, and he didn‘t try to run away or tell me I‘m a freak or a fag. He‘s supporting me…he‘s going to be here for me for as long as I need him to be. I wish I hadn‘t been so closed minded and naïve. I wish I would have told him about all of this from the beginning. If I had…I would probably be okay. I wouldn‘t have hit Cameron, and all of this…it wouldn’t‘ have happened. We would have came out here, and had a fucking awesome time. But I guess, I can‘t change the past. The only thing I can do, is try to get help and let the people in my life support me and help me get better.

“Elisha,” Trace calls once we get inside. He helps me to sit down on a chair in the kitchen. I’m dripping blood everywhere, and I really don’t’ want Elisha to see me like this…but there’s nothing I can do about it. “Elisha!”

She comes running in after a moment. “Damn what…” Her speech falls short when she sees us, and her eyes widen. She focuses on Trace, and whimpers a little. “Oh my god. Baby…you‘re covered in blood.”

“Go get the peroxide,” he tells her softly. “And some gauze and bandages.”

But she can’t seem to move. She just stares at me, with those gorgeous blue-hazel eyes of hers. “What happened,” she asks. “Why is he bleeding like that?”

“He’s having some problems,” Trace nods. “Please ‘lish…just go get the stuff okay? And tell Cam…she should probably just stay upstairs for now.”

She doesn’t say anything. She bites her bottom lip and sends me a worried look, before running out of the kitchen.

Trace grabs a dish cloth and runs it under the faucet before returning to my side. “Does it hurt a lot?” he asks. “I can bring you to the hospital if it does.”

I shake my head roughly. “No…no hospitals,” I whisper. “Please…don’t bring me to the hospital.”

He reassures me that he won’t if that’s what I want. He presses the cloth to the cut on my arm, and starts to clear some of the blood away. Thankfully, it’s not that deep, and I know I won’t need stitches. But damn, what if Trace hadn’t come? Who knows what I would have done to myself. That scares me…I could have died. I guess, I really don’t want to die as much as I thought I did. I guess if I died, I would be even closer to Shane…because he’s dead too. No, I can’t die. I need to stay here on earth, and face this.

“You should have told me what was going on,” Trace says after a few moments. “I would have helped you.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” I say softly. “I…couldn’t tell you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything else to me. He continues to clean the cut on my arm, and then he asks me if he can help me with the other ones. I shrug my shoulders. I feel like this big cut up freak. I don’t want to show him my thighs. I know in the light they are going to look really bad compared to what they looked like out there in the moonlight. But he’s only trying to help, and I’ve told him everything anyway…so I unbuckle my pants and pull them down, along with my boxers, wincing when everything is exposed. I mean, I’ve been naked in front of Trace before. Like, he always helps me pick out my shit when I have an important event to go to. But that was before…when I was confident in who I was and in my sexuality. I quickly cover myself, and don’t look at him.

“I got it.” I hear Elisha’s shaken voice and want to run and hide. I don’t want her to see me this way.

Trace pulls away from me for a moment and I hear him say “Thank you baby.” My eyes quickly dart up at them. He takes off his bloody clothes, and hands them to her. Now he’s in his boxers, and it’s making me even more uneasy. What if I get hard…seeing him half naked? God… I look down at myself, but nothing is happening. I don’t feel anything either. But still…I’m not sure about myself or my feelings right now. It could all hit me later…yeah.

“I’ll just…I’ll just go put these in the wash,” Elisha stutters, and hands Trace the clean shirt she brought for him . “Cameron is upstairs,” she says to me. “She…she um…she said she’s going to leave in the morning.”

I nod. I can’t even think about her right now. All I can think about is Trace, and what I told him out on the beach.

Trace yanks the white t-shirt over his head. I feel myself let out a breath, and realize I’ve been holding it since he stripped out of his other clothes. God, I‘m a fucking mess right now.

“Tell her that Justin cant’ think about all of that right now,” he says bitterly, even though I know that he’s not mad at Cam. I mean, I’m sure he knows that I hit her and shit. But I don’t think he wants to worry about her feelings right now. I’m a big enough burden on his shoulders. “He has enough problems.”

Elisha nods, and quietly leaves the room. I’m sure she’s going to cry, and I wish Trace could go comfort her…but I know he won’t. Not until I’m taken care of. I feel bad. Elisha doesn’t deserve this. She was having a great time here…with Trace, and now I’ve gone and ruined it all

I’m always fucking somebody’s life up.

Trace pours a little peroxide on the dish cloth and applies it to the fresh wound on my arm. I whimper a little, but I know the pain can’t be as bad as when I tried to put the sand in my cut. Trace lets the peroxide work it’s magic a little, and then applies the gauze and the bandage. “There. Just try not to move your arm a lot okay?” He crouches down and starts to concentrate on the cuts on my legs. He winces a little bit, when he gets a good look at the words scratched into my leg. He looks up at me, but I don’t say anything…and neither does he.

“This one is bad.” I point out the cut that was giving me grief on the beach today, and Trace seems thankful that I’ve decided to change the subject.

He puts some peroxide on it and bandages it up, before doing the same to a few other cuts of his choosing. “You know that…something has to be done,” he tells me. “I can’t just keep all of this a secret J.”

I pull my boxers back up, and nod at him. “I know that,” I say. I brush a few tears from my cheeks. “But I…I’m scared.”

“You don’t need to be scared anymore,” he says. “We’re going to call the right people, and get you some help okay?”

“Don’t tell…don’t tell them what I told you though,” I say, the fear in my voice apparent. “I don’t, I don’t want them to know.”

“That’s your choice,” he says quietly. “I’m not going to say anything to anybody about that. I promise okay? But the cutting thing…we have to get you help for it. Deal?”

I smile, just a little. It’s a genuine smile this time though…not one of those forced ones I always flash at him. “It’s a deal.”

The other day I went out to get some soda from the little store on the corner. Scott drank the last bottle all by himself, and I was craving my diet Pepsi. I yelled at him of course, but it’s not like it made any difference. Siobhan lets him do whatever he wants to do. She’s ‘in love’. I always tell her love is a bunch of bullshit and she shouldn’t be wasting her time. Then she rolls her eyes and says ‘you really need help, Kerri’. I guess it’s not my place to pry into her love life though. I mean, if she wants to be with Scott and get her heart broken one day …that’s her choice. But I’m sure as hell not going to let myself fall into the trap.

I went into the store, and picked up a few bottles. But when I went to pay, the girl behind the register didn’t start ringing my stuff up. She just…stared. At first, I didn’t know what her problem was. I was just trying to pay for my soda, and get back to the paper I was writing. I asked her if everything was okay, and then like…she shook her head and said: ‘Sorry…aren’t you that Kerri Donovan girl that’s been all over the news?’

It was the first time in a long time that I’d been recognized. The first week I was back in New York, the new stations were still running the story, and I used to get spotted all the time. It was weird. Like…people would ask me if I was doing okay…people that I’d never met before. I didn’t want to talk to them, because they didn’t know me and they had no business asking about what I was going through. A few of the bolder ones would stand acrosst the street and take pictures of me. It was hard to get a private moment in. I couldn’t really go out to eat with Siobhan then, because people would always stop and stare. It started to get so bad that I wouldn’t’ want to leave the dorms. But then…Siobhan wouldn’t allow me to act that way. She told me I had a life to live, and that if people wanted to stare at me I should let them. She said ‘they wish they could be as awesome as you are’.

But I didn’t’ believe her. I’m not awesome, I’m just me. Little Kerri Donovan from Millington, Tennessee. That’s who I’ve always been…even when I was gallivanting across the country with Justin. I never let any of the attention I received go to my head, and now with all of the media hype surrouding me, I still don’t feel any different about myself. I want to stay this way…I just want to be me…I want to be normal. I know the idea is outrageous, considering how big this whole thing has gotten. But, I’ve been through a nightmare. Don’t I deserve to be left alone and be myself?

Apparently not.

Last weekend, Siobhan threw this huge ‘Welcome back Grads’ party in the apartment. I think the entire senior class might have attended, but it’s not like the place isn’t big enough to hold that many bodies. It was crazy, and Siobhan’s father let her go all out. He gave her money for a DJ, a bartender…everything. I was even looking forward it, despite the fact that things like that make me nervous. I don’t really like being in a place where there are a lot of people. I feel smothered, and I’m always afraid that I’m going to freak out and like…suffocate in the corner or something. But I guess I decided to calm down and try to have fun for Siobhan’s sake…

The only thing I neglected to remember, was the date of the party…and the significance of that date.

I was off my rocker by my eighth vodka and tonic, and found myself seated on some guys lap. I think his name might have been Adam, but I can’t be sure. I know he was really drunk too, and I realized just how drunk he was when he started kissing my neck and telling me how bad he wanted me. It triggered something in my mind. I remembered Justin…I remembered…I remembered what day it was. It was exactly three years to the date that my friendship with Justin fell apart. I know it’s gay…that I keep track of this stuff, but I haven’t been able to help myself. I can’t just forget like that. Just like I can’t forget what happened to me…how I almost got shot to death…how I was locked in that shed for all those hours.

I don’t remember how I got into the bedroom without Adam attached to me, but I do remember calling Justin. Hearing his voice sent a million lost memories rushing back to me. Memories that started to make me angry, and sick to my stomach. I was so drunk, I can’t even remember half the stuff I said to him. But I do remember the tone of his voice. He sounded so down…so lost, and I wish I could have stopped acting like a drunken fool for five seconds and asked him if he was okay. But I didn’t, and then he hung up on me.

I hope I didn’t set him off, or cause him to do something horrible to himself or somebody else. I’d never forgive myself.

I’ve been in frequent contact with my parents. Lately it’s been my father more than my mother. I used to talk to mom a lot more. She used to call me at least three times a day, always wanting to what was going on, or what I was doing on a particular day. It got annoying, and I started to feel like I was constantly being watched. Once I told her that I was going to a party with Siobhan, and she completely freaked. She told me that under no circumstances was I to go to any sort of wild ‘fling’. She said: ‘don’t you know what can happen at those things?’. I almost agreed with her, but then I thought about it, and asked myself if I was living for myself or to please her. I realized giving into my mother was taking a step back, and if I continued to do it…I would lose what little independence I have left. So I told her that I was going to the party and there was nothing she could do about it.

She doesn’t call so much anymore.

Lynn calls me sometimes, and it’s sort of weird. After Justin and I had our falling out, she would only call me at Christmas or on my birthday. It’s like she feels obligated to call me now or something. I mean, I don’t mind that she calls of course. Lynn has always been like a second mother to me, but I don‘t know, it always seems like she’s looking for more than just a ‘hello’, when she calls me. I think she’s trying to get me to talk about the kidnapping with her and I can’t say I blame her. I’m sure Justin is a lot more closed off about the subject than I am…that’s how he is. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell her what I think happened to Justin and shit. Even though I’m still mad about what happened between us before I flew back to New York…it wouldn’t be right of me to expose that kind of stuff to his mother. That’s his buisiness, and I know if things were the other way around, he’d give me the same respect.

“This one?”

I put down the lotion dispenser I’ve been gazing at and look over at her. “What’s that one do?” I move closer to Siobhan and survey the shower head in her hand. “Does it have five massage settings?”

She quickly glances at the package and then looks back at me. “It says it has seven.”

This is the first chance that we’ve had to go accessory shopping for the apartment. We’ve been so caught up with school, and parties, and getting all the furniture we want into the apartment, that we haven’t had the chance to shop. But today we have nothing better to do, as strange as that is…so we’re at Bed Bath and Beyond, trying to find the right kind of massaging shower head to install in the master bathroom. I’m trying to find the same one that the Tripton’s had, but I can’t remember exactly what it looked like. God, I’m so anal…I hate it. Before the kidnapping I was never this nit picky but now, it drives me crazy if everything isn’t set up exactly the way I want it to be. Siobhan knows that too, that’s why she waited until we both had a free day to shop together.

“The other one had five settings,” I tell her. “That’s not the right one.”

She rolls her eyes. “K, seven settings is better than five.”

“But what if it doesn’t feel the same,” I protest. “I mean, the jets are probably set up totally different. We can’t have that Sio.”

She sighs and shoves the shower head back onto the shelf. “Well then you look. I’m not going to stand here all day and fight with you over a damn shower head.”

I know her patience and understanding of my condition grows shorter every time I act like this. I feel bad. I wish I could snap my fingers and turn back into the old Kerri again. The one that wasn’t so anal. The one that slept at night. The one who didn’t have to drink herself into oblivion to get to sleep at night…

It started about a week after I arrived in New York. I started to have that dream again…the Saturday morning one. It really upset me because when I was back home, and Trace and I had resolved our differences ,the dreams stopped. The dreams…they’re really bad when I have them. Shane and Nathan are always there, and there’s always so much blood. And then I’ll see Justin. He’s always on his knees, begging me to help him. But I can’t help him…I can’t do anything for him…

I can’t sleep after I have the dream. It’s really hard on me, because I’ll always have school in the morning, and I can’t just not sleep. Drinking helps. It makes me drunk, and sleepy…and when you’re drunk and you fall asleep you don’t wake up. It’s probably a stupid thing for me to be doing. I mean, alcohol is a drug…an addictive one. I’m concerned that I’ll be come addicted and ruin my life. If Trace knew about what I was doing, he would kill me…but it’s easy to hide something like this from him. He hasn’t seen me face to face since I flew back here. I just hope that by the time he does find time to come visit, I can cover my ass. I’m a smart girl though…everybody tells me that, so how hard could it be?

Siobhan has made her way into the section across from me, and is looking at the towel racks. I think she can make that decision on her own though…I mean its just a towel rack, not the actual towel. Towels, lord…now that’s another story. I want white…but it has to be a really bright white, and it has to wear well. I want my towels to be fluffy and thick after every washing…and they have to be washed after every single use, I won’t tolerate filth…

My thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my cellphone. Trace helped me pick this one out, after I told him what Nathan did to my other one. It’s really cool. It has a camera and a video camera, and it opens up into a little computer. I know I don’t need this big expensive phone, but Trace was so adamant that I get an advanced model, and I didn’t want to make him upset. He was so excited when I picked it out. He’s so weird…he’s all about camera’s and video equipment. I guess it’s cool though…I mean it shows he has a personality outside of his friendship with Justin. Justin hates all that technology stuff. It confuses him or something.

I pull my phone out of my purse, and glance at the ID. I smile when I see Trace’s name flashing on the screen. I haven’t heard from him in a few days, because he went to Hawaii with Justin, Elisha, and Cameron. I’m pretty sure he’s still there, and I really hope he’s having a good time. “Hello,” I answer cheerfully.

“Hey girl,” he chuckles lightly, but I know that something isn’t right. He sounds withdrawn, or tired…or something. “How you doing?”

“Fine,” I lie. “Sio and I are at Bed Bath and Beyond.”

“Oh cool…” his voice trails off, and I know that he hasn’t called to talk about what I’m buying right now.

“Trace,” I say, before he can speak again. “Are you okay? You sound, I dunno…tired or something.”

He sighs heavily into the phone. “I really need to talk to you, Kerri. It’s really important.”

I let out a nervous laugh. He’s starting to scare me now. What’s wrong with him? “I’m listening,” I whisper.

“No…I mean, I need to see you,” he informs me. “Like, soon. Tomorrow or the next day.”

He’s crazy. Doesn’t he know how much shit I have piled up right now? I have two papers due by Monday, and a shitload of homework to get done for my other classes. And on top of everything else, I have an interview with Z100 on Friday. Yeah, my good friend Jason, who I interned with last semester gave me a call last week. He graduated last year, and the station gave him a job right away. He’s doing the 10pm to 6am shift for now, but hell, it’s a job at Z100. He’s on the air. I told him how jealous of him I was. Then he laughed and told me I wouldn’t have to be jealous for long. He told me he put in a good word for me at the station with the right people, and now…I have the opportunity to get a full time radio spot. That is, if the interview goes well. God, that would be a dream come true. I’d be on the air…on the most popular station in New York City. I’d have a career. I’d have a fresh start…

But now Trace wants me to come see him?

No fucking way.

“This is a bad time,” I tell him. “I have a lot of shit going on right now.”

“Cancel your shit,” he orders. “This…this really can’t wait Kerri. You need to come out here.”

I’m so confused. God, why can’t he just tell me what his problem is? “What’s going on? Why do I have to come out there…and where the hell is there anyway?”

“Los Angeles,” he whispers. “It’s…it’s about Justin okay?”

The fact that he’s begging me to fly out to LA for Justin’s sake, makes me not want to go even more. As far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t deserve the time of day from me until he can get his fucking act together. Sure, I feel bad about calling him when I was messed up. But then…I wouldn’t have been messed up if it wasn’t for him. “I’m sure Justin can get through whatever it is without my guidance. I mean hell Trace, he’s made it this far without so much as a phone call from me. He doesn’t need me.”

“You don’t understand.” He sounds really upset right now. His voice is cracking, and I hate to admit it…but I know he’s in tears right now. And I know Trace…it takes a lot to make him break down like this. I start to feel nauseated, and lean against the shelf full of shower heads for support.

“Trace,” I say finally. “I need you to tell me exactly what the problem is.”

“Look,” he whimpers. “I’m…I’m really sorry to be calling you like this. It’s just…it’s been a really hard week for everybody. I just thought the right thing to do would be to call you up and tell you.” He pauses for a moment, and I hear him sniffle a little before continuing. “Justin is having a lot of issues right now. Ones that we can’t help him get past ourselves. Kerri…he checked into rehab yesterday.”

My mouth drops open. At first I’m speechless, my body stiffens with the shock of what he’s just told me. I…god, I didn’t know he was that fucked up. Wait okay…okay…maybe I did know. Maybe I knew it from the very beginning, after I had the ham sandwich that day. But if that’s the case, then it’s my fault that this is all happening. It’s all my fault. “Rehab?” It’s the only thing I can manage to say.

“Yeah.” He takes a moment to cry into the phone, and I don’t interrupt him. “He’s been…cutting himself.”

I feel my face begin to burn, and then I start to cry into the phone, forgetting where I am and that Sio is standing just a few feet away. “What do you mean,” I sob. “Trace…what do you mean!” I can’t believe I’m reacting this way. I knew…I was positive, that I didn’t give a damn about Justin anymore. Damn it, what the hell is wrong with me? Calm down! But I can’t. I feel horrible for him…for everybody involved. Justin needs me. And so does Trace. Everything else isn’t important enough to wait around for right now. The interview…the papers…the homework, it’s all going to have to wait.

“When should I come?” I ask him.

He clears his throat a little. “When can you come?,” he says raspily.

I think for a moment. Normally, I could pack a suticase and be to the airport in a little over an hour. But this situation is far from normal, and I’m scared. I mean, this is all so sudden, and I’m still in shock. I don’t think I could move that quickly. “I…I don’t know,” I whisper. “I mean christ…I’m so confused.”

“You’re confused?” he scoffs. “Jesus Christ Kerri, I’m the one that had to hear…I mean…god, just forget it. Just call me when you’re ready and I’ll get you a flight okay?”

He seems aggravated with me all of a sudden, like I shouldn’t be reacting this way…like I don’t know half the shit about Justin that he does. Where is his head? Damn it, I was fucking there. I feel a few tears glide down my cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. “Stop it,” I snap. “Don’t act like I’m an outsider.”

He’s silent for a moment. He knows he’s not thinking straight right now, but to me…that’s no excuse. “Sorry,” he half whispers. “I’m sorry. I need you Ker. Nobody else knows about…well…you know.”

I close my eyes. I know now…Jusitn told Trace about…all that stuff. The stuff that I refused to talk about with him, or anybody else. It almost makes me proud of Justin, to know that he found the strength inside of him to come out and tell Trace about it all. But then I think about how the subject could have came up in the first place, and I’m sure he never meant to tell Trace as much as he did. God I’m so confused…and scared…and nervous. How can I do this? How can I go face Justin…after all the crap we’ve been through?

“You still there Kerri?”

I snap out of my daze in time to answer him. “Yeah, I’m here. I don’t know how fast I can get to the airport. I’ll have to call you when I’m ready to leave.”

“Oh.“ He sounds disappointed in my answer. “Well, don’t wait too long okay?”

“I’ll try not to.” It’s the best response I can give him right now. I don’t want to promise him anything, because if something goes wrong or I chicken out…he’ll be pissed that I promised I would rush out to LA. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.” I almost hang up, but then I hear him say my name again, and I can’t bring myself to.

“Kerri…I wouldn’t be asking you to put your life on hold unless I knew you could help him. But…I know you can help him. You were there with him.”

I feel my throat tighten, and I can’t speak for a moment. The truth is creeping over me now, reminding me of what I did to Justin before I left for the city. He wanted to talk, and I didn’t…so I pushed him away. What did he do then? Did he cut himself? I’m sure of it. God…what if that started it? Oh god… After a few moments, I finally find my voice again and manage to say: “If it wasn’t for me he wouldn’t be in that place right now, and I’m sure he knows that.”

“Kerri,” he sighs. “That’s not true. Those bastards put him in that place okay? I know you probably think you abandoned him when you went back to school, but you didn’t. You were just doing what you had to do.”

“Yeah,” I say softly. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“You need to get out here,” he reminds me. “You’re a mess too.”

“Don’t tell me what I am,” I say gruffly. “I can handle myself just fine.”

I can hear him shake his head. “Alright look…I’m gonna let you go, and hope that you call me before hell freezes over. Go home Ker…go pack and get out here. We’ll talk okay? Me and you.”

I know it would do me some good to see Trace again. I know I can talk to him, even though I’m a little annoyed with him right now. He understands me. Damn, maybe I should stop bullshitting around and get out there. “I’ll call you,” I say, not hinting at my feelings. “Bye, Trace.”

“I’m gonna call you in three hours,” he tells me.

I roll my eyes. “And if I’m not ready?”

He’s silent for several moments. He wants me to know that he’s not happy about my attitude…but I don’t care right now. “Then I guess you don’t give a shit.”

I shake my head, and without so much as a goodbye, I snap my phone shut. I close my eyes and grit my teeth. God…god he knows that I care. How the hell is he going to tell me that I don’t? Damn it, I know why. He’s trying to run the guilt trip past me. I shouldn’t give in, just because of that. But…I can’t help it. I feel obligated to go now. I mean, I don’t want Trace to think that I don’t care… and even though I hate to admit it, I don’t’ want Justint to think that I’ve turned my back on him completely.

“Kerri?”

I hear Siobhans voice behind me, and I slowly turn to face her. I think she heard everything I said to Trace, but that doesn’t matter. I’m going to tell her everything anyway. “Sorry about that,” I whisper. “Trace just…Justin is having problems.”

She nods her head slowly and places a hand on my shoulder. “Trace wants you to go out there?”

I don’t say anything, because I’m trying to prevent myself from bawling in the middle of the store. I bite my lip and nod a yes at her.

“Well,” she says softly. “I think you should go, wherever you’re supposed to go.”

“But what about everything else,” I say in a shaky whisper. “What about school and Z100 and…”

She stops me. “What about being a good friend K? I mean, I know you and Justin have had your differences and stuff…but I know you still have a soft spot inside of you for him. You can’t just turn your back on him now. I’m sure he really needs you, if Trace called you up like that.”

I hate that Siobhan is always fucking right. Suddenly, everything that was ‘piled up’ in front of me doesn’t seem that important anymore. All I can think about right now is Justin, and what he’s dealing with at this very moment. What kind of a place did they put him in? Is he scared? Is he angry? I need to find out, and the only way I can find out is if I get my ass out to Los Angeles. I pull Siobhan into a hug, grateful for her words of wisdom.

“Come on,” she whispers in my ear. “Let’s go and get you packed. You have a flight to catch.”

**********

I was packed and ready to go two hours after I got off the phone with Trace. I was worried about missing my classes, but Siobhan reassured me that she would go and get my assignments for me. I don’t know how my teachers are going to react to my sudden disappearance, but I hope they can understand that this is something I have to do right now. After Siobhan helped me to zip up my over packed suitcases, that was when the reality of the situation started to hit me, and I didn’t want to leave the apartment. I was going to get on Justin’s private jet. I was going to fly out to LA and see him, for the first time since our encounter on my front porch. I kept running over what I was supposed to say to him in my mind. I couldn’t figure it out though. I mean, what does somebody say in a situation like this? ‘Hi, sorry that you’re cutting yourself?’ I became so distressed, I curled into a ball on my bed and started crying. Siobhan tried to comfort me, and get me out of the house, but I didn’t want to be comforted. I told her that I was too scared to face Justin again, and that I was a coward. I told her to call Trace for me and tell him that I couldn’t come. And then…then she got mad at me. She told me that I was being selfish. Needless to say, I stopped crying, and I focused on yelling at her instead. Thinking about it now, I have to laugh a little. She knew throwing a comment like that at me would make me stop crying…for that moment anyway.

“How can you tell me that I’m selfish right now!” I screamed at her.

“Because you’re only thinking of yourself,” she said, matter of factly. “Your friend needs you, and all you can do is sit here and feel sorry for yourself.”

“He’s not my friend,” I said stupidly.

Then she rolled her eyes at me, and made that face. The one she always makes at me when she knows I’m being ridiculous. “He’s not? Then why are you crying?”

I felt stupid, because she was right. If Justin really wasn’t my friend, then I wouldn’t have been such a mess about going to see him. I knew I was just trying to hide from my problems again, but I’ve been hiding from my problems since I hung up on Justin that night. So, I decided to tough it up, and tell Siobhan exactly what my problem was. I mean, I’m sure she’d already figured it out for herself. Sio isn’t a stupid girl…but I had to talk about it with somebody before I got on that plane.

Siobhan reassured me that I was acting like anybody else in my situation would. She said that yes, Justin had made a lot of mistakes with me in the past, but that since I’d known him my entire life, I owed it to him to be there for him in his hour of need. I agreed with her, because she was right…and I knew it. Then I called Trace, and I told him that I was ready. He seemed relieved, and happy at the same time. I don’t think he believed that I was going to come out…

But here I am.

LAX reminds me a lot of JFK. They’re both about the same size, and they are equally as busy. The only thing I like better about LAX, is that it’s a lot cleaner. That’s a good thing. My anxiety level is through the roof right now, and if the bathrooms were disgusting here, I would probably have to hold it. I hate holding it. Thank god for hard working janitors….

I push my way out of the womens room, and glance at my wrist watch. It’s 4:30, and my flight got in at 4:00. Trace said he was going to meet me at my gate, and I’m sure he’ll be here…but I don’t see him yet. Maybe he’s caught in traffic? Yeah…that has to be it. Nothing bad could have happened to him right? Like a car jacking…god, what if he stopped for gas somewhere and some guy with a gun…

“So you made it.”

I whirl around quickly, and nearly faint when I see Trace standing there. Damn, I didn’t realize how worried I was. I hate this. Everything is negative…people in my life can’t be late. If they’re late, it always means the worst…

I hope Shane and Nathan are burning in hell.

I don’t smile, and quickly make my way over to him. I take in a deep breath, and let it out again. “I made it,” I say softly, and give him the once over. He’s dressed well, but when isn’t he? He looks good though, a lot better than the last time I saw him. He looks rested, and laid back. I’m sure that has a lot to do with Elisha giving him piece of mind. If he didn’t’ have her, I’m sure he would be just as much of a wreck as Justin is.

He manages to smile a little. “Well don’t just stand there girl. Give me a hug.”

He holds his arms open, and I walk into them. He pulls me close to him, and it’s so awesome to be getting a hug from Trace again. I feel safe, and secure and I start to realize just how much I’ve missed him since I’ve been gone. I wrap my arms around him and hold him for a few moments, before pulling away. I see a little wetness on his shirt, and realize that I’ve started to cry again. “Sorry,” I say, with a shake of my head. I reach out and try to wipe the tears off of his shirt, but it doesn’t really help. “Damn, your shirt.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he chuckles. “How was your flight out?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I took a sleeping pill.”

He sighs. “It’s probably better that you did. I’m sure you need to rest and stuff.”

I just shrug. This is so awkward. I thought I would just be able to talk to him like before, but I don’t know, he seems so different now. I don’t know what it is. It’s like…part of him is gone or something. “It felt good to sleep,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. I don’t sleep much, and when I do, it’s only because I’m druink off my ass. The sleeping pill was good, but I don’t want to get into the pill habit. That can be more addictive than alcohol…and you can OD. “So what’s the plan?” I didn’t want to be the first one to ask, but I know that if I didn’t break the ice, Trace would just bullshit around until he could get me to do it for him.

He bites his bottom lip, before responding. “Well, Tiny is outside waiting for us. I figured we’d go home and get you settled in. Visting hours are over for the day…so we can’t go see him until tomorrow afternoon.”

When he says ‘home’, he means Justin’s new mansion in the Hollywood hills. I’ve never been there before, but from what Trace has told me, it’s really really awesome. It’s fourteeth century Mexican style or something…hell, I don’t even know what that means. All I know is: it’s really really big, and it cost him a ton of money to build. Well, a ton of money in my terms anyway. Money is no object to Justin…it never has been…

Not even when we had guns to our heads.

Trace walks me to baggage claim and tries to make small talk while we wait for my suitcases to come off the conveyor. He’s not really talking about anything important or interesting though. He’s mostly babbling about all the plans Elisha is starting to make for their wedding. He says hes starting to feel a little nervous, because they aren’t getting married until next fall and she’s already getting fitted for her dress. Normally, I would try to console him, but I don’t really feel like talking right now. I’m so nervous…in fact, when we get to the house, I’m sure I’m going to puke up breakfast.

“And like…there are copies of that bridal magazine, hell, I dunno what it’s called,” he continues. “It’s all over Justin’s house, and like…god Ker, I’m just so confused. She’s making this a big project, and I really just wanted to have a small wedding, ya know?”

I nod a little. “Well, marriage is a big thing,” I say quietly. I see my first suitcase come around the bend, and I quickly yank it off the conveyor. “She’s just excited. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He shoots me an annoyed glance. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

I thought we were past this. I thought that Trace realized when we talk, and I don’t react to his problems like I should, that I’m just not in the mood to console him. But no, here I am in Los Angeles to see my friend who just happens to be in a mental ward, and all he can do is complain about his damn wedding. Well Trace you know what… “I don’t care,” I actually say the words outloud, and I want to die. I meet his gaze. Great, now he’s pissed at me.

“Thanks Kerri.” He frowns, and then my other bag comes around the bend. It’s the heavier of the two, and he helps me lift it off the conveyor and onto the floor. “Next time I guess I’ll go talk to Justin about what’s on my mind, even though he’s half dead.”

I shake my head. “You sound just like him,” I mutter. “A selfish, spoiled baby.”

He picks up my heavy suitcase, and glares at me. “Where is this coming from?”

“I killed myself to get out here.” My voice starts to quiver and I suck in a long breath before I start sobbing in front of him. “And all you can expect me to do is help you with your problems. Damn it Trace…I’m just not in the fucking mood okay? I’m a mess.” I pick up my other suitcase and start to walk ahead of him. He’s right beside me a few seconds later, but he doesn’t say anything to me. This is bad. I haven’t been in LA an hour yet, and I’m already fighting with my best friend. This isn’t supposed to happen. We’re supposed to comfort each other, and go home and talk about whats going to happen with Justin. But…nothing like that is going to happen. We’ll get to Justin’s and I’ll probably shut myself up in whatever bedroom has been set up for me. I’m sure Elisha will be there, and I’m sure Trace will spend the rest of the day with her. I’ll be alone…

I’m always alone.

We walk the rest of the way to the terminal exit in silence. I can feel Trace staring at me from time to time, and I’m tempted to say something else to him…but I don’t. I don’t’ want to start anything else with him right now. I just want to get in the car, and close my eyes and try to calm myself down. But I doubt that will happen. There’s simply too much to think about, and I’m sure Trace isn’t going to ignore me the whole trip.

We step outside the terminal, and I spot Tiny standing in front of a sleek black limousine. He sees us and waves, but doesn’t smile. He looks very alert, like some kind of secret service agent. God help the person that would try to rob us right now. I’m sure they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. “Hi, Tiny.” I manage a small smile, and hand the limo driver my suitcase.

He nods and grunts a small hello to me. It’s strange…he’s always been overly friendly towards me, but right now I‘d never know it. I remember, when I would tour with the guys he would always give me the biggest bear hugs, and tell me stories about his kids and his wife. But now, he seems so different. I’m sure I couldn’t spark up any sort of conversation with him right now. Damn, why is everybody changing? It’s scaring me…a lot more than I thought it would. I mean, I knew everybody was going to act a little differently after the kidnapping…but this much? I’m so confused, and I wonder if coming out here was really worth all of this stress.

“Kerri, come on.”

Trace is standing by the open limousine door, with an impatient look on his face. I don’t say anything to him, I just get in and lean back into the leather interior. I’m pissed off, and immediately, I’m reminded of that day I came home from the airport with Justin. Damn, I was so angry with him then. What if I hadn’t’ been? What if I could have put the past behind me for once, and learned how to get along with him again. If I had would I even be here right now? Would the kidnapping have even happened? I guess it would have. Shane seemed to know what he was doing up until Justin got a hold of that gun. But I dunno…maybe things would have been different. Maybe Justin and I wouldn’t have been fighting down in that basement…and maybe we wouldn’t’ have been separated for all that time. And then Shane wouldn’t have done what he did.

Right?

When we were little kids, Trace’s aunt started showing signs of Alzheimer’s. The disease progressed to a point where she was unable to live on her own, and they had to put her in a home. I know it was really hard on Trace’s family, especially on his mother because it was her sister. But there was nothing else they could have done for her. Trace’s family didn’t have a lot of money in those days, and there was no way they could have paid for in home care.

I remember going with Trace and his parents to visit her a bunch of times. We couldn’t really comprehend the situation that well, because we were so young…I think we might have been seven, maybe younger. We used to race up and down the hallways, and sometimes the tenants would get mad at us…but most of them liked us. I think we brought some excitement to their dull day time television filled lives. I don’t really know why he wanted me there, but I guess it was just weird for him…seeing somebody he loved in that state of mind. I mean, she didn’t even know who he was, and everybody knew that Trace was her favorite nephew. It was hard on him, really hard, and I guess having me there helped to soothe his worried young mind.

That placed smelled a lot like it does here: like Lysol and cough medicine mixed together. I hate it. It’s all I smell all day, everyday. I think the scent may be permanently embedded into my skin by now…but I’m sure that everybody confined in here has the same problem. I wonder if they notice it as much as I do? From what I hear, most of them have been in and out of places like this their entire lives. I’m sure smells are irrelevant to them at this point. The people…they remind me of the cranky old people at the convalescent home. Sure, they might be younger than those people, but they sure don’t act younger. They’re always so tired looking, and they’re always fucking complaining about something. It’s either the food, or the crappy television stations we get, or the temperature in here… if there’s something worth bitching about, no matter how irrelevant it may seem, they’ll bitch about it.

Me, I’m not really like the rest of the whackos in here. I tend to keep to myself and I never voice my opinions on anything, unless I feel it’s important. But really, everything that bothers me about living in this place, is all stuff that I’d expected to come with the territory anyway. It’s not worth my time to bring it up. This isn’t a vacation, or a hotel. It’s a fucking rehab clinic for crazy people who hurt themselves. All I need to worry about is getting better, so I can get back to my life.

Madison, that’s my doctor, she keeps telling me that I should open up more in group. She says its not healthy for me to sit there quietly, while everybody else gets their aggressions out. Then I tell her that I can’t just talk about what happened to me with people I don’t know. Admitting what Shane and I did to her was hard enough, because Trace is the only one that knew the truth before I told her about it. That’s right, I still haven’t told my parents, or anybody else close to me. Madison says that should be my next step, but I know I can’t take it. She doesn’t understand…I’m not like everybody else in here, my life is different. If the people in my life knew about Shane…I would be ruined.

The morning after Trace caught me bleeding on the beach, was awkward. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, because I heard somebody moving around in the hallway. I nearly got up to see who it was, but then I heard her voice…so soft, so sad. Cam left around five in the morning, without so much as a goodbye. It hurt me, a lot. I really didn’t think she would just walk out on me like that…when she knew what was going on with me. I mean, granted I hit her and shit…but when you love somebody, you don’t just…leave. I haven’t called her since, and she hasn’t called me. What we had is over now, and it was great while it lasted. It’s all Shane’s fault she left me and I’ve come to terms with it I guess. I can’t change what I did with him, I can’t change the past. The only thing I can do is move forward with all of this, and hope to god that someday I can act like a normal human being, instead of this monster that I’ve turned into.

Trace called my mom that morning, and asked if she and Paul could fly out and meet us for dinner. Of course she said they would. My mom is always happy when I want to see her, and usually, I’m equally as excited. But that day, I wasn’t excited at all. I knew I had to break the news to them…about what I’d been doing to myself. It scared me, because I didn’t know how they were going to take the news. Cutting is a scary thing. Hell, it scared me, and I was the one doing it to myself.

We decided to eat at Chi, because it’s the one place I can go where nobody will bother me. I have my own little section upstairs, where nobody is allowed to eat but me. It’s my table. My mom really loves the fact that I’ve invested my money is such a classy place. She’s proud that I’m being smart with my money…and I guess I‘m proud of myself too. But really, the only reason I put my money into the place, was because Cameron told me that I should have something to fall back on. Damn, I did so much shit because she told me it was a good idea. I listened…I loved her, and how did she repay me? She fucking left me to fend for myself.

I didn’t really waste a lot of time avoiding the reason I’d called my mother and Paul out to LA. I realized it wasn’t worth it, because the longer I waited to admit the truth, the longer it would take for me to get the help I needed. But my mom, she wasn’t helping the situation. She was so happy, and perky that evening. All she could talk about were the plans for the club tour, and the big European tour I have coming up, and how she and Paul are putting that new addition on the house. I really didn’t want to spoil her mood, because it was the first time I’d seen her completely happy since the kidnaping. She was getting over it, and I…I was about to bring her down again.

"Lynn." Trace broke the ice after our pot stickers were brought to the table. "Justin has something he needs to tell you."

I wanted to smack the hell out of him for being so forward, but I knew he was only doing it with my best interest in mind. He knew I had to get what happened out just as much as I did, and delaying it any longer only meant disaster. So I cleared my throat, and slowly agreed with him. "Yeah, I do," I said.

Her smile faded immediately. She knew there was something wrong right away, and I wasn’t surprised. My mother knows me inside out, and really…she probably had a gut feeling that I needed to tell her something before she landed in Los Angeles. I guess she was trying to see things in a positive light, but I sure put a stop to that. "What’s the matter?" she asked. "Aren’t you feeling well Justin?"

I tried to stop the tears from seeping out of my eyes, but I couldn’t hold them back. They crawled down my face, and dripped onto the tablecloth. I felt like I was eight years old again, and had to tell my mother that I broke the window while Trace and I were playing baseball. I felt horrible breaking her spirit…letting her down. And I could hear Shane’s voice in the back of my mind the whole time, telling me how ‘he told me so’. "No mom," I said to her. "I’m not feeling well."

Then Trace said. "Show her your arm."

I remembering rolling up my sleeve, and exposing the bandaged cut on my forearm. And then…I heard her gasp. I couldn’t even look at her for a good ten minutes. I just stared at my arm, and wished like hell I could have stopped cutting myself before the blade reached my arm that night. Then I met her gaze again, and saw how frightened she was. I knew I didn’t have to explain myself, because the look on her face was telling me she knew what I’d done to myself. "I’m sorry," I whispered. It was all I could think of to say.

Trace proceeded to tell her what was happening, and that he didn’t think it was something I could stop doing without seeking professional help first. I heard Paul agree several times, but my mom…she didn’t say anything for a long time. I was convinced that her love for me was gone, and that she was ashamed to call me her son. Then, I remember looking up at her, expecting the worst…but instead of telling me how angry she was with me, she reached across the table and took my hand. I think I might have smiled, but I really don’t remember.

"You don’t need to worry anymore. We’re going to get you the help you need." She said it with such confidence, that I started to feel better. She seemed to believe in me, and her love for me was definitely there. For the first time since I started cutting, there seemed to be a way out, and I felt as if a huge burden had been lifted off of my shoulders. I started to think that it might be okay to tell her the other part…about what I did with Shane, but something stopped me. I still wasn’t sure about that. I mean, Trace was still freaked out about that part…I could tell. And if he was freaked out, I didn’t know how my mom or Paul would take it. So I kept quiet. I know it was a bad decision…but it was the only one I could make at the time.

Naturally, mom my called everybody that needed to be contacted about what was going on with me. She called Johnny, she called the guys. The guys…I’m really glad she was the one to break the news to them. I mean, I’ve only seen them once since I’ve been home. It was right after the kidnaping. They all came by to see how I was doing. I guess I could have been nicer to them, but at the time, I really wasn’t in the mood to be nice to anybody. I think they expected my mood though…I’d been through hell.

Johnny on the other hand, he didn’t want to discuss the situation over the phone. He flew out to LA the next day, and we all sat down together to discuss what was to be done. I could tell he was worried about me, and a lot of other things too. I’ve already been booked at dozens of arenas across Europe. Canceling now would mean the loss of millions of dollars, and I…I would feel like shit doing that to my fans. I really want to tour, and I told them that. I said that touring would probably take my mind off of a lot of things, and everybody agreed, but they also said that I needed to get help too. So Johnny called around, and found this place. I have to spend thirty days here going through their program, before I can get back to my life again. After that, I’ll have to continue to see a shrink until I start my tour, and then they’ll decide if I need to bring one out on the road with me. It’s not so bad…I know it’s a small price to pay to get some normalcy back into my life again.

The first twenty four hours I spent here were probably the hardest I’ve had to endure so far. When my mother and Trace walked me through those doors, I felt my composure begin to crumble. I was nervous. The building was like another world to me. I cringed at the bars on the windows, and the locks on the doors. I remember that Trace had to stop me halfway to the office, because I was gripping his arm so hard, it was starting to leave a bruise. He asked me what was wrong, and at first I couldn’t really answer him. I didn’t want him to think I was any more of a coward than he knew I was already.

But then…I saw this big guy yanking this girl down the hallway. She was really hysterical…crying and screaming. And then he put her in this room and locked her in. I didn’t want to know any more about this place after that, and I turned and tried to run away…but Trace caught me before I could. My mom tried to console me and told me that my doctors knew what I’d been through, and nobody was going to lock me in a room like that. I couldn’t believe her though. I was convinced that once they left me here, the doctors would turn on me, and torture me just like Shane did. I begged them both to take me home…but they wouldn’t. Trace practically dragged me the rest of the way to the office, and I had to put up with it. I was really upset, and really bitter. Trace knew it too, but I guess he probably expected me to behave that way. Looking back on the whole thing now, I realize how much I was overreacting. These doctors have been nothing but supportive of me, and never once have they tried to lock me inside one of those little rooms. They understand what happened to me…especially Madison. I really like her and I’m really glad that she’s the one who has to listen to me. These other doctors are nice and all, but I can tell that they’re all really uptight and by the book. Madison is young, four years older than me actually…so I guess we can relate a little, even though our lives are totally different.

I hear a tapping at the door, and I know its only Walter coming to get me out of bed. I’ve been lying awake since about four, but he doesn’t need to know that. I glance over to the bed across from mine. Doug is still asleep, and I almost feel compelled to wake him up this morning so Walter won’t have to put up with his shitty attitude. But I can’t make myself put my hand on his shoulder to coax him out of his sleep. I have a real problem making physical contact with the people in here. It’s like they’re all carrying this deadly disease that I’m afraid to catch.

The door opens, and Walter flicks the lights on. I squint a little, until my eyes are fully adjusted to the new light in the room.

"Morning." Walter smiles and tosses me a fresh pair of scrubs, before shaking Doug out of his slumber.

I sit up and yawn a little. "Hey," I whisper. I look down at the fresh scrubs in my hands, hoping that they’ll be significantly different from the algae green color we’re all forced to wear. Of course they’re not though, and I hear myself groan softly. Man, I would give anything to be able to wear a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but it’s not allowed. Like, I guess they think I could rip the zipper off of the jeans and cut myself or something. Hell, I don’t know…they have a lot of weird rules here. I mean, we’re not allowed to wear shoes that have laces, we’re not allowed to shave unless we have supervision. We’re not allowed to keep pens and notebooks in our rooms, for the fear that we might make weapons out of them.

That’s the part I hate the most too. Writing in my journal is the one thing Madison insists I do everyday, that I actually like to do. But it’s hard for me to express my true emotions out in the open, with the other patients and the orderlies surrounding me. Lately, I’ve been having a lot of problems getting my entries completed, because I’ve started to write about having sex with Shane…and it’s really hard to write about something so deep when so many people are able to look over my shoulder. I guess I should tell Madison about my problem, but I feel weird. I know she would work something out where I would be able to write in my room…or in her office, just because of who I am. But how would that be fair to the other patients? They would all still have to make time to write out in the open, and some of them are a lot more fucked up than I’ll ever be.

"Piss off." I hear Doug spit the words out, and I glance over at him. I can tell already, that this isn’t going to be an easy morning.

"Come on, Doug." Walter grabs him by the arm and forces him to sit up. "Don’t be difficult right before breakfast."

Doug roughly yanks his arm out of Walter’s grasp, and sends him an angry glare. "I want to sleep. So leave me the hell alone."

My breath catches in my throat and my heart pounds against my ribs, as the anger in Doug‘s voice grows. I tend to get really nervous when he gets angry. He’s explosive when he’s mad, like Shane was. I always think that he has a gun under his pillow, and that if Walter or I get him mad enough, he’ll pull it out and start firing it off. I slide myself onto the bed again, and back up against the wall, drawing my knees close to my chest. I just want to go pee…I don’t want to be around for this, but I can’t leave until Walter says it’s time.

"Justin it’s okay," Walter reassures me. "We’ll be out of here in a minute."

"That’s right," Doug grunts. "Protect our little celebrity. Give him what he wants so he keeps funding the crap out of this hellhole."

The fact that I am who I am, hasn’t really bothered anybody in here…besides Doug. All the other patients know who I am of course, but they’ve accepted me into their world. I think most of them have too many other things on their mind to worry about who am I and whether or not I’m getting special treatment. The truth is though, aside from that little tub of Ben and Jerry’s that Madison brought me two days ago…I get treated the same as everybody else. I have to make my bed in the morning, and go to group. I have to take my meds every day, I have to have a roommate, and I don’t get extended free time outside or in the social room. At first it kind of annoyed me, because I wasn’t really used to being treated this way…but now I understand why they’re doing it. Being treated like everybody else is probably the first step in getting me back to my old self again. I can relate to normal people…because I don’t feel different. These doctors are pretty smart.

"I’m not going to tell you again," Walter warns him. "Either you get out of bed, or I’m going to get my buddy out there to help me drag you into the bathroom."

Doug shoves Walter backward roughly, and I know that he’s in deep shit now. Physically assaulting the orderlies is strictly against the rules, and anybody that does it gets put in lock down for the day. I’ve never tried it of course, but I’m not really a violent person unless you get me when I’m most vulnerable. Like…like when I hit Cam…

"That’s it," Walter grunts. He pushes Doug face down on the bed, and pins him down. "Jerry get in here!"

Jerry is really big. Like, bigger than Tiny big. He’s the same guy I saw dragging that hysterical girl down the hallway the first day I was here. The first time I met him, I was terrified…but then I talked to him a little bit and realized that he’s a pretty nice guy. He reminds me of Tiny a lot, except Tiny is a lot more laid back than Jerry is. But I guess when you work in a place like this, it’s hard to be laid back. Maybe after I get out of here, I’ll ask him to come see one of my shows. I’m sure he’ll be a lot more laid back in a situation like that.

Jerry enters the room a moment later. "He giving you trouble?"

"Yeah," Walter nods. "He doesn’t need to be around everybody else today."

"What are you gonna do," Doug says. "Lock me up? Fine…they give you better food in there anyway."

Jerry shakes his head, and motions for Walter to move out of the way. Then he grabs Doug up, and of course he doesn‘t put up a struggle. He’d be a fool to try.

"Let‘s go," Jerry says, and pulls Doug out of the room before he can dish out another snide remark.

"You okay, Justin?"

I look up at Walter, and nod, even though I know I’m not okay. But I’m never okay…so I guess it doesn’t make a difference what I tell him. "I gotta pee."

He laughs. "Come on."

***********

Morning bathroom time has always been a sacred, private time for me. Before I came here, I used to stand in front of the mirror and take a good fifteen to twenty minutes getting my mind together before I even thought about getting in the shower. I guess it was the only time I could be totally alone, without cameras in my face and fans tugging and nagging at me. But now, I can’t even have that privacy. Walter has to stand in here while I do everything. I mean, he turns his back when I pee and stuff, but not before going through his daily check of my body. He makes me strip down to my boxers, and has to check for any cuts I might have made during the night. I know he’s just doing his job, and I know he wouldn‘t try to hurt me…but I’m still afraid. I only let Walter see me this way because I have no other choice.

The first couple of times he did it were really, really hard for me. One morning sticks out in my mind more than the rest. It was the second or third day I was here, and I was still getting used to my new surroundings. I’d been up all night because I kept having these crazy dreams about Shane and the kidnaping. I guess it took more of a toll on me than I realized, because when Walter went to do his morning check up, I freaked. It was another one of those times where I couldn’t see the person before me…I just saw Shane instead. I started screaming at Walter to get away from me, and I remember him trying to calm me down, but I didn‘t want to listen to him. My solution to the problem was crawling into a shower stall and cowering in the corner. Despite Walter’s words of encouragement, I wouldn’t move from my position. I was convinced Shane was out there, waiting to rape me again. They had to get Madison to come, and she had to talk to me for two and a half hours before I could even think about moving from the stall.

"You have a good night?"

He asks me that every morning now, just in case I’ve had another rough night. In that case, he would bring me right to Madison, so I wouldn’t end up having another ‘episode’. Luckily, I slept all right last night. I think it’s these new pills they have me on. They aren’t sleeping pills or anything, but they do give them to me a couple of hours before I go to bed, and they always end up making me tired. I really don’t like that. I don’t like any medicine that takes control of you that way. But what other choice do I have? I have to take whatever they give me, or else I’ll get my privileges taken away. And then I’d be more miserable than I am now. "I slept okay," I say finally.

He nods. "Good. Hey…I hear you got some visitors comin’ today."

I lift my top over my head, and throw it into the hamper next to the sink. "Who…my mom?" My mom comes here a lot. Actually, more than a lot. Last week she came every day, and it was what I expected of her I guess…but I got kinda tired having her around so much. I mean, all she wanted to do was hold my hand and tell me I was okay, and of course I didn’t blame her…but I also knew I needed my space. I told her that in my own way, last Friday. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to shut her out, but really…I wasn’t getting anything accomplished. I couldn’t sort my thoughts out and get them down in my journal with her looming over me. So, I told her that I had a lot of stuff to do, and I really needed to cut back on my visiting time. I think she bought it. Well, either she bought it, or she was just playing along to make me feel better.

"I remember Madison saying something about Trace and a friend of yours named Kerri coming down."

I have to brace myself against the sink, as what he’s just told me starts to make sense in my brain. Trace did this. The phrase repeats itself in my mind at least a dozen times, and I know it’s the truth. I sure as hell didn’t’ tell him to bring Kerri out here. I don’t want to see her…god, I really really don’t want to. "No," I shake my head roughly. "No, tell them not to come."

"Aw come on Justin," Walter smiles and pats my back reassuringly. "It’s good to have your friends around you right now."

"Kerri isn’t my friend," I grunt, and pull my pants off. "Just…just hurry up and check me. I need to make a phone call."

He sighs, but does what I’ve asked of him. He checks my legs, my thighs, and my chest, before telling me that he’s satisfied. I spend the next twenty minutes showering, and shaving…with Walter just a few feet away of course. I try to focus my mind on other things…what’s for breakfast, what I’m going to talk about with Madison today…but I none of that seems to matter right now. Kerri is here, hell, she’s probably in my house right now…and my emotions are this big tangle of frustration, anger, and fear. I don’t know who to be angrier at; Trace for telling her about all this, or Kerri for coming out here to invade my privacy. I mean, she didn’t want any part of what I was going through…that’s why she left right? So, if that’s why she left…what gives her the right to waltz back into my life? Does she feel sorry for me? Does she want everybody to look at her and think she’s this great person for coming out here? Man, what a selfish little bitch she is.

"I’m done," I say quickly, when I finish pulling my crap green scrubs on. "Can I make that call now?"

"I’m not sure about you using the phone when you’re this angry," Walter smiles. "You might end up saying a bunch of shit you don’t mean."

I shrug. "It’s not your life."

"Look," he huffs, as he escorts me out into the hallway. "I know I don’t know everything about what you’ve been through…but anybody that would want to come visit you in here, has to care about you a lot."

I hate that Walter thinks he knows everything about me. God, he reminds me of Trace. Trace thinks he knows everything, and that’s why Kerri is here right now. Damn it, I’m going to fucking kill him for pulling this shit. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," I mutter. "So just stay out of it Walter, and let me make my phone call. You can’t deny me…I haven’t broken the rules."

He laughs a little. "You don’t take no for an answer do you?"

I nod, but I don’t smile. "I never have."

"Fine," he tells me. "You can sit in Madison’s office and use her phone."

I glare at him. "It’s called privacy. I don’t want her listening to my call."

"Take it or leave it Justin," he tells me. "I’m not leaving you in this hallway by yourself. Not in the state of mind you‘re in right now."

I feel like punching him, but I know I won’t. It wouldn’t be worth it, and I know I would freak out if they locked me in one of those rooms. "Fine," I grunt. I miserably plod down the hallway, and I take in a deep breath when we reach Madison’s office. I know it’s early, and I’m sure that right now she’s planning her schedule for the day. I feel bad bothering her, but I really need to call Trace and tell him that he’s a fucking asshole.

"Hey." Walter swings open her office door and then knocks on it. "Can we bother you?"

Madison takes her feet down from the desk, and removes the donut from her mouth. "Oh…hey," she smiles. It always confuses me how anybody can be happy at this hour of the morning. I’ve never been able to be enthusiastic in the morning, even before I was all messed up, unless I had about ten cups of coffee first. "What’s up, Justin?"

Mmm…donuts. We can’t have junk food in here, that’s why I was so fucking excited when she brought me that ice cream the other day.. It has something to do with the meds mixing with the sugar or something dumb like that. Personally, I think they made that rule up to piss us off. But hey, I’m a psycho according to them, so what do I know? "I need to make a call," I grumble, and send Walter an angry look. "And he won’t let me make it unsupervised."

"Because…" Walter butts in. "He’s going to call up somebody and give them hell."

Madison laughs out loud. "Are you up to no good, Justin?"

I roll my eyes. Sometimes I don’t like her. Sometimes I think she views me as this five year old who can’t think for himself. But that’s only sometimes. Most of the time Madison is awesome…I can tell her anything, and she’ll keep it between us. Like, I told her that I had sex with Shane, and she was okay with it. She didn’t’ call me weird or anything like that. The only thing she really wanted me to do was talk about it, and I have been talking about it. I’ve been talking about it so much, that it’s starting not to seem as bad as I used to think it was. "I’m fine," I mutter. I push my way past Walter and into Madison’s office. I plop down into my usual chair by the window, and put my feet up on the sill.

"You want me to stay here Mad?" Walter asks. "Just in case."

"I’m not that whacked," I speak up, in annoyance. "Leave."

"It’s fine Walter. I’ll buzz you if he tries to get rough with me," she cackles.

Walter rolls his eyes. "Good luck, see you later."

The door closes, and I feel myself let out a long breath of relief. I look over at Madison, who is shoving yet another donut into her face. I’m tempted to ask her for one, because they are from Krispy Kreme. I love fucking Krispy Kreme. But I know that if I ask her for one, she’s going to make me talk about something I don’t want to talk about….like Kerri. She’s been bringing her up a lot this week. My eyes widen a little. What if…hey…damn, she’s behind this isn’t she?

"So what’s the matter this morning," she asks me finally. She takes a long sip out of her juice bottle, and then smiles at me again. "Did you sleep okay?"

I fold my arms across my chest stubbornly. "Everything was fine until Walter told me what’s going on this afternoon."

"Oh?" She raises an innocent eyebrow and takes another bite into her donut. "What’s going on?"

"Fuck, Madison," I grunt. "You know what’s going on." I shake my head and turn my focus toward the window. Madison’s office has a really awesome view of the garden. I like to sit here when we have our sessions, and gaze out at all the plant life. It’s so peaceful, and I really wish they allowed us to go into the garden during our free time…but they don’t. We have to be supervised. I guess they’re afraid one of the psycho’s will try to eat the plants or some stupid shit. But hell, that’s not me. Sometimes I really hate that the rules have to apply to everyone.

"Calm down and have a donut." She picks up a napkin and grabs a donut with it before holding it out to me. "They’re from Krispy Kreme," she coos. "I know you can’t resist, Justin."

I don’t want to give in to temptation, because if I do, she’ll expect me to talk about this. I shake my head. "I know what you‘re up to," I tell her. "So screw you."

"Hmm," she shrugs. "Well, I guess I’ll just eat the rest of the box by myself."

My mouth begins to water immediately. I know I can’t resist her offer, and she knows it too. Damn it. I snatch the donut from her desk and start to consume it immediately. Madison looks pleased with herself, and I want to tell her where to get off…but I don’t.

"Trace called me up a few days ago, and asked me what I thought about having Kerri come to visit," she informs me. "And at first I was a little weary, because of the conversations you and I have had about her in the past, but in the end we both agreed that the first step to getting you past this is to have you face your demons. I think you need to see Kerri, to talk to her. It will probably put your mind at ease about a lot of things."

"You both agreed? What about me? Where’s my fucking say?" I yell the words at her, and crumbs fly out of my mouth and across the room. "What the fuck are you doing Madison? This isn‘t just some random friend…this is Kerri. She’s different, and you know why. I can’t just see her like this okay? Not in this place…not in these clothes. Just…no."

She sighs in annoyance, and fold her arms across her chest. "So what? You want me to let you sit here and scream into the phone then?"

"Yes," I mutter.

"Tell me what that will solve, and the phone is all yours." She leans forward and starts to scribble something down in her daily planner. She’s waiting for me to answer, and I know she won’t say anything else until I do.

But I know I don’t really have a logical answer for her. I’m just angry, really angry, and I want to get my aggressions at whoever is responsible. And I know that Trace is partially responsible for this. "I just want him to know how I feel," I say finally. "What’s wrong with that?"

She smiles a little, then tears her gaze away from her planner and focuses on me. "You can let him know how you feel, Justin. There’s nothing wrong with that. But calling him up at this hour, and yelling at him isn’t going to get your point across very well."

I’m starting to calm down. I can tell, because I’m starting to realize that she’s right. Calling Trace up and screaming at him like a lunatic will only cause more drama on both sides of the fence. What I really should do is sit down with him and tell him that I don’t appreciate him going behind my back like this. But...when he comes, Kerri will be with him. And I don’t want to seem like too much of a jerk in front of the girl, even though I’m sure she already has that image of me in her mind. Fuck...I don’t know what to do. "I dunno Madison," I say softly. "All I know is that...I don’t think I can face Kerri right now. I’ve been a little better, you know? I...I’m starting to feel a little more like myself every day that I’m here. If I have to face her, I don’t know what I’ll do. I just...I’m not ready okay?" I look into her eyes, and I can tell that she understands where I’m coming from. I think Trace talked her into letting Kerri come, and I think she figured facing all of that would help me out in the long run. But she didn’t’ ask me about it, and right now...I think she knows she should have. There’s more to me and Kerri than just the kidnaping, a lot more.

She picks up the phone, and hands it to me. "Then call Trace and tell him," she nods. "It’s your life, and I’m not going to tell you what to do. Just know that he did this with your best interest in mind. Think about that before you make any final decisions okay?"

I nod, and then I start to dial. I really don’t know what to expect. I’m sure I’ll tell Trace not to come, and he’ll go on a fifteen minute ramble about why me seeing Kerri right now is a good thing. God I don’t want to deal with it...any of it...

"Hello?"

"Hel..." I’m in such a daze, I don’t realize that the voice on the other end of the line isn’t Trace’s. It’s a girls voice...but it’s not momma’s and it’s not Elisha’s. My mouth hangs open. Jesus... "Kerri?"

************

The caller ID said Dr. M. Powers, and I told Trace that, but he told me to answer anyway. He was too busy sitting on the couch groping Elisha, to realize that it might be Justin calling. I wish I was close enough to kick him right now. I would so do it. "Justin," I say quietly. "Um...Trace is just in the other room..."

"No, no," he interrupts me quietly. "Don’t put him on yet."

His voice is dark, sad...like he doesn’t know what to do. I wonder if he even knew I was coming. Probably not. He probably doesn’t want me to be here either, and  who could blame him after the way I treated him? But no...I’m not going to feel bad about it. He deserved it...all of it.

"When did you get there?" he asks me quickly.

I suck in a breath before replying. "Yesterday."

"You didn’t go in my room did you?"

I shake my head in annoyance. "What kind of a question is that, Justin? I put my life on hold to come out and see you..."

"Did I tell you to do that?," he interrupts me.  His tone is cold and angry, but I can't find my voice in time to talk his anger down. "I don’t recall saying anything about it," he continues. "In fact, I don’t recall calling you once since you went back to school. You listened to fucking Trace, and that’s why you’re here. So if you’re pissed off because you don’t want to be here, yell at Trace, get on the plane..and go back to fucking New York okay?"

I can’t believe he thinks I would come all the way out here, just because Trace told me to. I mean, how long has the Justin known me? I’m not the selfish one...he is. I’m not the one that decided our friendship wasn’t worth anything anymore, that was him too. I just...I don’t even know what to say to him. I’m dumbfounded that he can sit in his doctors office and talk to me this way. This is supposed to be a positive time for him, not a bitch fest. Tears flood my vision, and I feel them start to crawl down my face. Coming out here was a mistake, a big, gigantic mistake. I should hang up, because staying on the phone is going to get me nowhere. I pull the phone away from my ear, not caring if Justin has something else to bitch about, and almost press the off button...but then...

"Who’s on the phone?"

I turn slightly.  Trace is standing in the space separating the living room from the kitchen now. He hangs onto either side of the wall with his hands and leans his body forward, flashing me a playful smile as he does so. "Madison right? She said she wanted say hey to you, that’s why I let you answer."

"It's not Madison." I don’t hang up the phone, but I do put it down on the counter. Then I look Trace in the eye, and his smile immediately fades when he sees the tears in my eyes. "It’s Justin. And I think...he would much rather talk to you right now."

"What’s the matter," he whispers. He steps further into the kitchen and picks up the phone. "What did he say?"

I bite my bottom lip, and look down at the floor. "You didn’t tell him I was coming did you?"

He’s silent.

"Trace," I say, meeting his gaze again. "You didn’t did you?"

He sighs. "No," he admits. "I just...I didn’t think it would be such a bad thing. I mean, it’s been a while and..."

"You don’t know half as much as you think you do," I tell him sternly. "You weren’t there and you can’t possibly understand what Justin and I went throug. Y-you don’t know how hard it was on us okay? We need time apart Trace, a lot more time apart than this. I...I can’t believe you would go behind his back and do this. I mean, who the hell are you anyway? Why do you always think you know what’s best for us?"

He doesn’t answer me. He just shakes his head sadly, and puts the phone to his ear. "Justin...yeah...look I...alright just calm down..."

I don’t want to stick around for the gory details, so I head out of the kitchen and start to cut across Justin’s ridiculously oversized living room, before Elisha’s voice stops me.

"You’re being really ungrateful, Kerri. Trace is doing the best he can and he flew you out here because he thought it would help the situation," she defends. "He wants Justin out of that place, probably more than anybody does. Do you even know how hard it was for him, seeing his best friend bleeding all over the place, and then finding out that he’d been doing it to himself the whole time?"

I knew that Trace found out about Justin’s cutting, but I neglected to get into how the news broke. Up until now, I figured Justin broke down and told him about it...I never thought that Trace had walked in on it all. I don’t even want to imagine the look on his face. Trace isn’t one to show his emotions. Over the course of many years of friendship, I’ve found that Trace doesn’t like to cry or come off as a weak person in front of others. I think a lot of that has to do with Justin, and how Trace been following him around since he was sixteen. I know it’s probably been hard, trying to stand out in a crowd of Justin onlookers...and even harder getting a girl to notice him when Justin is standing right next to him. It’s something I’ve always wanted to discuss with him, but I’ve always feared it would make him angry or something. Trace likes to think that he has a life outside of Justin...that there are things about him that Justin knows nothing about. But the truth is, aside from Elisha, Justin is Trace’s life...he’s his work, and a big part of his family. And seeing him like that...in his lowest moment...must have nearly driven Trace out of his mind.

But despite the fact that I know all this, I still don’t think Elisha has the right to say what she said.  I understand that she loves Trace, and wants him to be happy...but she doesnt' know the half of it.  She doesn't know Justin like I know him, and she doesn't know me at all.  I'm not ungreatful...I'm just...damn it I'm just scared, is that a crime? "Do you know how hard it was...being held at gun point Elisha?," I shoot at her.

Her mouth hangs open a little, and she looks down at the couch cushion she’s seated on. "I...no. I just don’t want Trace to be upset," she says softly. "You can understand that."

"I guess." I shake my head a little, and then finish crossing the room before I retreat up the long wooden staircase. When I reach the balcony, I glance down and can see into the kitchen. I see Trace, but he’s not on the phone anymore. He’s sitting at the table, and his head is buried in his hands. I know he’s crying, and I’m sure he thinks he can’t be seen. But I won’t say anything about it. I’ll let him have his time alone. I’m sure he needs it after everything that’s gone on.

This house in entirely too big for just one person and his friend to be living in. It had ten bedrooms and eighteen bathrooms. Eighteen. Why does Justin need eighteen bathrooms? Even if I was a bajillionaire like Justin, I don’t think I would buy a house that has eighteen bathrooms. There would be no point. I mean, I would constantly have to put toilet paper down on the seats, because I’m sure when I would throw a party, a million different people would be using different bathrooms at different times. I would probably drive my maid crazy. I laugh a little...she’d probably quit her first day. Siobhan already wants to strangle me, and we only have three bathrooms in the apartment.

Aside from the bathroom dilemma though, I have to admit...Justin has a pretty kick ass house. Its designed like an old Mexican hacienda, only its about five times the size of a normal one. It has three floors, if I include the basement, and I can include it because its all redone like a normal level of the house. Trace showed me around down there yesterday, and I was pretty amazed when he said that he and Justin had designed the whole layout of the place themselves. He’s got a movie theater down there, and this huge room with all kinds of video games and a pool table. His office is down there too. He keeps all his awards and platinum records on this big wall behind the desk, along with a big shelf full of trophies and stuff. Not that seeing any of that stuff is new to me. I used to see it all the time when I would go to his other house in Florida. That place is gigantic too, but I didn’t really like it so much there because Britney treated the place like she owned it...even though she didn’t put a dime of her money into it. He still owns that house, but Trace told me Justin doesn’t really go there all that often, unless he’s in Florida visiting his dad or something. I guess it must remind him too much of Britney and their relationship together...

Which in my opinion, was a joke. It was a rebound fling...that lasted longer that it was supposed to.

God, why am I thinking about this now? I don’t want to, or need to. I need to lay down and relax. I need to clear my mind and prepare myself for my visit with Justin. I know that we’re still going to go, despite whatever stupid things Justin said to Trace. No, maybe not today because I’m sure Trace wants to give Justin time to cool down. But tomorrow I’m sure we’re going to go. Trace won’t be weak like that and sit at home...he’ll still get in the car with me and Elisha. We’ll still go to Psycho Country or whatever the place is called, and I’ll have to sit there and try not to let the dirty looks Justin will be shooting my way, bother me. No...I wont ever let him get to me again. I’ve had enough.

I push my way into the room I think is mine, but I quickly realize I’m in the wrong room when I notice the size of the place. It’s the master bedroom, and practically the size of the kitchen and the living room put together. I step further inside, even though I know I shouldn’t’ be prying, and then I smell it...him. I close my eyes, and relish the scent, as a million forgotten smiles and spouts of laughter rush through my mind and rip through my ear drums.

‘I look so sexy in this hat.’

I turn towards him, after slipping a pair of oversized green sunglasses on, and nearly spit my mouthful of soda all over him. ‘What’s with the feather?’ I manage, after swallowing the liquid in my mouth. I take the ridiculous glasses off and put them back on the rack. Then I try a more suitable pair, before focusing on Justin again.

I shake my head and will the memory away. But it’s really hard to rid myself of it completely, when I’m standing in his private sanctuary and when his scent in enveloping me like it is. I sit down on his bed, and rub my hands on my thighs. I shouldn’t be in here. He even warned me about being in here a few minutes ago. But if I know that, then why can’t I make myself leave? Maybe its because I’m tired...yeah. I’m tired and his bed is really comfortable.

It can’t possibly be because I never truly let him go.  I'm not that weak...am I?

Today we’re having the chef’s specialty...meatloaf and lime Jell-O. It doesn’t look like meatloaf though, it looks more like a piece of rubber with gravy on it. It smells like it too. Man, my mom would never make me eat this kind of crap. How is this helping me to get better? It’s not. It’ll probably make me puke, and then I’ll be sick for a week...and then I won’t be able to talk to Madison, and then Shane will come back.

So you want a confession huh? Well, not you...you’re just a book. I mean Madison wants a confession. She wants me try to write it all down in this book. I don’t really want to though. I mean, I told her what happened. I told her that I had sex with Shane, so what more is there to say? Does she want me to go into graphic detail? Does she want me to tell her how he pinned me down and put his dick in my ass–

I feel somebody’s eyes boring into the back of my head, and immediately the paranoia sets in. I quickly snap my journal closed and hug it to my chest. I glance over my shoulder cautiously, and see Doug standing a few feet behind me. He’s got a sick sort of smile on his face, like he’s amused by me. I shudder. He’s got those eyes...like Shane had.

"Hey there, Justin Timberlake." He shuffles over to me, and sits down in the seat adjacent to mine.

I slide myself back a little bit. Doug wreaks of cologne, and every time I’m near him I get nauseated. "What do you want?" I grumble. I clutch my journal even tighter to my chest, when I see his gaze land on it.

"I finished my Jell-O," he smiles. "So I’m going to take yours." He reaches out and grabs the Jell-O off of my tray before I can stop him.

I don’t move. I just stare at him, like some pathetic little kid. We only get Jell-O once a week, and even then, it’s the sugar free kind. But damn it, the shit is the closest thing we have to junk food in this place. Doug knows that too. I wish he would get off my case already. I don’t know what it is with him. I mean, I know he’s my roommate but I’m sure that’s not the reason why he always singles me out. I think it’s who I am...he jealous or something. I really don’t know why, I don’t get any special attention. "Give it to me, Doug" I say to him. "Come on." I allow one of my hands to leave my journal, and reach out to grab my dessert back from him.

He jumps out of his seat, and backs away from me. "What are you gonna do about it?," he snickers. He pulls a spoon out of his pocket, and digs in.

I feel like crying, and it’s stupid. It’s fucking Jell-O, what the hell is the big deal? Maybe it’s not the Jell-O that’s making me upset though. Maybe it’s just the fact that I’m being taken advantage of...like a nerd getting picked on by the bully in school. I could fight back, I know I could lash out and punch Doug in the face right now...but I won’t. I have a real problem touching people in here, especially guys. I never want to find out if I’m really gay, and getting that close to another man...it’s risky. I know I was close to Trace a lot before I came here, but I think Trace was a lot different. I know I could never be attracted to Trace even if I was gay, just because he and I have known each other for so long, and we’re more like brothers than friends. Well...at least we were up until yesterday.

Madison told me I totally overreacted on the phone with him, and after a couple of hours of hearing her explain why I shouldn’t have done what I did, part of me agreed with her. I think hearing Kerri’s voice was what initially set me off. Just knowing that she was in my house...touching my things, it made me sick to my stomach. She was there with me, she saw them, she...I know she knows something about what happened with Shane. Why the hell did she have come all the way out here and remind me of it all? She’s supposed to be smarter than that. She’s supposed to know that I don’t want to see her. She fucking...she left me, and that was the end of it. She was supposed to just forget about it all...the kidnaping, and about me.

By the time Trace got on the phone, I was so pissed, I just wanted to rip him apart...and I did. I screamed at him. I told him he was a fucking asshole, and that I didn’t know if I could consider him a friend anymore. Then Madison took the phone away, but I didn’t even care. I was so angry...so fucking angry. I’m still angry too, but I know I’ve calmed down enough to face Trace when he comes. As for Kerri...well, I have no clue what I’m going to do when she comes in here.

I look back at Doug, as he polishes off the last of my Jell-O. I’m still mad, but I’m not going to say anything to him, I’m not going to start a fight. I get up from my chair, and tuck my journal under my arm. I need to find a place where I can sit and write in peace, so I guess I’ll go to the social room...yeah. I can usually get some peace and quiet there. I’m almost to the door, but then Doug jumps in front of me, blocking my path. I gasp. I wasn’t expecting that.

"Where you goin?" he asks me, with an inquisitive smirk.

"Away," I mutter. I try to push past him, but he pushes me backward. I bite my lip. "Just leave me alone Doug," I moan.

"I hear you like to swing it both ways," he whispers in my ear. "Is that true?"

My eyes widen, and a deep rage begins to boil inside of me. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," I whisper. "Just let me through."

He grabs me by the scruff of my shirt, and pulls me close to him. "I’ve been watching you," he whispers. "I’ve been watching the way you walk, and...and they way you sit in the social room and look out the window for hours. And at night...I watch you while you sleep...you’re beautiful when you sleep you know."

"Stop it!" I scream the words at him, and break free of his grasp. "You...you leave me alone," I point my finger at him, and try to fight back the tears that are begging to make themselves known. "Just leave me alone."

"What’s going on?"

I hear Jerry’s voice, and I quickly whirl around.

"I asked you two a question." He storms toward us angrily, and I swallow back the fear rising in my throat. He’s so damn big. God, if he ever grabbed me, I would probably lose it. Please don’t’ touch me...

"What’s going on?" he repeats, once he gets close enough.

"Nothin," Doug smiles. "I was just giving Justin here a little insight."

Jerry shoots me a knowing glance, and then steps closer to Doug. "You got one strike left in my book, Doug. The next time I have to throw you in the hole, I’m going to leave you in there for a week."

Doug rolls his eyes. "You think I care about the hole Jer?"

He smiles a little. "Maybe not now, but you will once I’m through with you."

I back away a little bit. I realize that this isn’t my fight anymore, and if I want to, I can probably be on my way. I guess I’m just scared to make any sudden movements. I don’t want Doug to touch me...or even look at me, like he says he’s been looking at me. I start to sneak away, and I manage to make my way out into the hallway. I breathe a sigh of relief. Madison...I’ll talk to Madison later about the Doug thing. Maybe she can get them to change my room or something. I hope so, because after what just happened, I know I’m not going to be able to sleep a wink. I’ll think that he’s staring at me, studying me...wanting me. Oh god...this can’t happen to me again. It just can’t.

Just forget about it...

Right. I rush down the hallway, alarming several of the orderlies on my way. I should probably watch myself in front of them, because if they think something is wrong, they are more than likely to report it. But that’s not really a major concern of mine right now. All I want to do is go sit by the window and write down my thoughts. It will help. I can talk about Doug and stuff...and nobody will have to listen to me, and then I won’t have to worry about crying and shit. I enter the room, and scan it quickly for anybody that might be a threat to me. I don’t see anybody unusual though...just the normal crowd. I take my usual seat by the window, and with a last glance over my shoulder, I’m finally able to open up my journal again.

"Hey."

I don’t have to look to know who it is. I think I would know Trace’s voice anywhere, even though right now it sounds like he’s half dead. I sigh, and regretfully close my journal again. Then I look around the back of the big wicker chair I’ve been sitting in, and I see him. He’s just standing there, hands in his pockets...looking like his entire world is crashing down around him. I can’t help but feel bad. I know I’m the cause of it. "Hi," I say after a moment.

He motions to the chair next to mine. "Should I sit?" His voice cracks a little, and I rub a hand over my face. It’s so weird. Trace has never been this broken down in front of me. The day he came to the Tripton’s, he didn’t even act like anything was wrong. Man, I guess I must have said some fucked up things to him yesterday.

"Yeah, Trace," I nod, and focus my gaze back at the window.

I hear him sink down into the wicker chair, and for awhile neither of us say anything. That’s the kind of friends we are. We both know what’s going on, we both know how the other one feels, and so...words aren’t really necessary. Part of me is tempted to say something, just to get his mind going, but I chicken out of course.

"So..." Trace sits up in the chair, and looks at me. "So...I’m sorry okay? I just thought bringing Kerri out here might make you feel better. Hell Justin, I don’t know. You had to come here, and it was so weird, and I just didn’t think and..."

"Trace," I interrupt his frantic rambling before he drives us both crazy. "Look, I was just angry yesterday. Whatever I said to you, it doesn’t matter now okay? You’re my best friend, and now you’re here for a visit. Let’s just try to enjoy our time okay?" I tuck my journal underneath me, before sinking lower into the chair and closing my eyes. For the first time today, I’m finally at peace... and with Trace here too. Maybe things aren’t so bad....

"Um, Justin."

I don’t open my eyes. "Yeah?"

"Kerri is in Madison’s office."

Why me?

********

We arrived here a little over an hour ago. Originally, Elisha was supposed to come with us, but her agent called her up at the last minute and she had to go meet with him. Trace seemed a little pissed that she rushed out like she did. Normally, I’m sure he would have understood...but when it comes down to Justin, nothing seems to be more important in his book. Hell, that’s why I’m here...because he acted like my schooling came second to Justin’s problems, and I felt bad. Why did I feel bad? Justin told me off on the phone yesterday. I should have hightailed it back to New York. I wish I had. But the fact that I would have been walking out on Trace plagued my conscience so badly, that I felt I couldn’t leave. I know that sticking by your friends is what you’re supposed to do, but god, I know that Justin is going to give me hell when I see him. I don’t want to deal with it, I don’t think I can handle any more fights between us. But I guess...I’m doing it for Trace. I should...he was there for me when I needed him to be.

Oh and lucky me! For all that I’ve sacrificed, I get a bonus...

A fucking psychiatric evaluation.

According to Trace, Madison Powers is the best thing that’s happened to Justin since he was admitted to this place. When I first stepped into her office and set eyes on her, I was a little surprised. She wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I was expecting to see some middle aged, motherly type seated behind the desk. I guess I figured Justin wouldn’t have a problem talking to somebody who babied him, because his mother babies him all the time. But Madison isn’t anywhere near middle aged, and actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was still in her twenties. She’s really pretty and smart looking, like I wish I could be. She’s average height, a dirty blond with light blond highlights and chocolate brown eyes that are accented by a thin pair of reading glasses. She has a really nice figure too. Not as nice as Cameron Diaz’s or anything, but it’s still nicer than mine. But the one thing I’m really envious of, is that she can look so damn sophisticated when she comes to work, but then she could probably go change and start dancing in a club like a carefree party girl in a moments notice. I can’t just kick back like that. When my mind is set on school, it’s set on school until I go to bed that night. I can’t switch my attention to something else very easily, at least not anymore.

I used to be able to. I used to be able to go to school all day, and then go out to the clubs with Siobhan at night. But now, school just wears me out. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I don’t really sleep, and when I do, it’s only because I’m drunk. Hell, I’m surprised I’ve been managing to get through my classes like this. I guess I must be stronger than I thought, but then again I can’t promise that my body isn’t going to give out. That scares me. This is my senior year, and I can’t fuck up now. I need to get a job, and I need to make something out of my college experience. My parents...they’d never forgive me if I let it all go to waste.

"Justin talks about you a lot." Dr. Powers leans back in her chair, and props her feet up on the desk.

I’m literally disgusted by her action. Doesn’t she know how many germs can be transferred from her shoes onto her desk? I mean, she probably eats her lunch there. She could get Cholera and her stomach will shrivel up and she’ll die. "Do you always put your feet up there?" I ask her, completely ignoring her original comment.

She glances at her feet, and cracks a small smile. "Most of the time. Why Kerri, does it bother you?"

I shift a little in my chair. "No," I say quickly. "I was just asking."

She doesn’t believe me I guess, because a moment later she returns her feet to the floor. "I like the environment in my office to be laid back. It helps my patients to relax, and let their feelings out. I don’t care where they sit or what they put their feet on, so long as they’re talking about what they need to talk about."

She’s probably expecting me to ask her about Justin...about what he’s been talking about, but I’m not about to get into the subject. It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to face him in a few minutes. I realized early this morning that I wasn’t prepared...I wanted another day to collect my thoughts, but I knew I couldn’t tell Trace that. He wanted to come today, so he could sort out his own problems with Justin. It wasn’t my place to interfere. Just like it’s not Dr. Powers’ place to keep me in here, while Trace is out there talking to Justin. I should be out there with him too...at least then I would have Trace to back me up if Justin started saying stupid shit to me. "Are we done here," I hear myself say, a little too gruffly.

"I think Trace and Justin probably need a few minutes," Dr. Powers replies. "And I was hoping you would be willing to give me a few minutes of your time as well. Like I said, Justin talks about you a lot, and I think it would do him some good if I got to know you a little more."

What is this lady, Justin’s fucking informant? I don’t need to sit here and talk to her about my feelings, or about my history with Justin. It’s not her concern. Whatever went on between me and him is a private matter, and I’m not about to sit here and tell her shit that isn’t any of her business. "I’ve given you a few minutes," I mutter, and get up from the chair I’ve been sitting in. "And I’m not discussing anything with you." Still fuming with anger, I turn towards the door, and begin to make my way out of her office.

"Do you have a psychiatrist Kerri?"

I pause, and turn to face her again. "How is that your business Doctor Powers?"

"Please, call me Madison." She smiles again. I hate that. Justin...Justin always used to smile at me like that, even when he knew I was annoyed with him. Only...when he did it, I would always forgive him in the end.

"And I’m not trying to force you to talk to me Kerri," she continues. "It just seems to me that you’re trying to keep all of your pain and aggression locked inside of you," she informs me. "It’s not a good way to solve your problems. If you continue down that road, you’re only going to hurt yourself more. Look at Justin....he did it, and now he’s in here."

I shake my head. "You don’t know anything about Justin. You...you don’t’ know why he had to hide what happened to him from the world. He...he can’t just talk about things with people. He’s not like you or me. He’s different okay?"

"I don’t think he’s as different from the rest of the world, as you seem to think," she nods.

She’s making me angrier. She’s acting like she knows him better than I do. Well...she fucking doesn’t. Did she grow up with him? Is she the one that stood by while he rose to superstardom, and prayed to god that he didn’t leave her behind? Is she the one that was there for him at four in the morning, when he felt like the world was smothering him, and he had nobody else to call? Did she love him, like I loved him? Did she...did she sit with him in that dirty house, while he cried and cried and cried.... No. She’s just his shrink. She’s only known him for a little more than a week...

"Come sit," she says. "I know you need to talk to somebody, and I know Trace is a good friend to you, but I can imagine that his mind is in other places right now. Tell me if I’m wrong."

I shake my head, and try to tell her that she’s wrong. But damn it, I know she’s right. Is she always able to see through people like this? "I can’t talk about this stuff with you," I tell her. "You’re not my doctor, and I’m not going to be here much longer as it is. If I...if I told you, it would just get to me more. Like, you would know, but it wouldn’t be helping anything."

"Getting things off your chest always helps," she says. "Sometimes it doesn’t matter who you talk to, it only matters that you’re getting your aggressions out of your system."

I sigh, and turn towards the door again. She’s absolutely right. Getting things out of your system does help. But I just don’t have the energy to get into all right now. I have to face Justin, and I can’t be a mess for him, so I’m just going to go and get it over with. "Thanks, but I just can’t." I turn the knob and open the door. Part of me waits for her to tell me to reconsider, but she doesn’t say anything. It causes me to look over my shoulder, but she’s not even paying attention to me anymore. She’s writing something down on her agenda.

She doesn’t really care.

I walk out of her office and roughly yank the door closed behind me. The hallway is a world away from the comfort of Madison’s office. It’s walls are a dull gray color, and the same goes for the floors. There are patients milling around. Some are with orderlies and some are by themselves. They all have to wear these ugly green smock clothes. I’m sure Justin hates them. He’s always been a fashion mogul. I almost wish I would have brought some extra clothes for him, but even if I had, I doubt he’d be able to wear them. Why I care about what he has to wear in here, I have no idea. The point of this is to make him better, not to have him dress better than everybody else.

I stop halfway down the corridor when I realize I have no idea where I’m supposed to go. Trace didn’t say where he was meeting Justin, and I feel really uncomfortable looking for him by myself. What if some psycho comes out of their room and goes into a rage, and tries to kill me? Oh god... Thinking about this causes me to stop the first free orderly I see, so I can be escorted. Unfortunately for me, he’s the biggest guy I’ve seen all day. The kind of guy that can crush your bones with one first squeeze of his fist. I pray that I don’t’ piss him off. "Excuse me, do you know where um...Justin Timberlake is right now?"

Surprisingly enough, he smiles a little. "Oh Justin, yeah, I just saw him in the social room. Follow me, I’ll take you."

A small sense of relief washes over me, as I follow the orderly down the hallway. But my relief is short lived. We come upon the social room, and as I step inside the doorframe, I find that I have a perfectly clear view of Justin. He and Trace are sitting by the window in big oversized wicker sun chairs, conversing quietly My palms immediately start to sweat, and start to chew on my lip furiously.

"Go ahead," the orderly tells me. "He’s not gonna bite."

Easy for him to say. I don’t look back at him, and I step into the room. It’s really nice in here. A lot nicer than the hallway...or Madison’s office. I bet this is Justin’s favorite place, because he can keep to himself, and not be bombarded with a million questions. There’s no bars on these windows either, but there are extra orderlies stationed at every corner. This is a place to be free, I realize. A place to veg out and try to be normal. I’m glad it’s here. I’m sure most of the people in here are just looking for a place to be normal. It’s nice that they considered that when they built the place. I manage to step closer to Trace and Justin, and then Justin turns suddenly, like he’s known somebody was staring at him. I stop in my tracks, and I don’t say anything. Hell, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.

It’s hard for me to tell if Justin looks better from the last time I saw him. Because when I saw him last, he was still a little beat up, and his ribs were still all messed up. His expression was always a pained one, a confused one. Now though, I don’t really see it as much. He has bags under his eyes, like he’s only gotten enough sleep to keep him awake for his therapy and nothing more. His face has a little stubble, but I can tell that he’s been trying to shave as often as he can. Justin doesn’t really like facial hair. He always used to tell me that it made him look too old, and that he never wanted too look old...because he’d barely had a chance to be young. I smile a little. I remember that Justin. That Justin was so much different from this one. He had a heart...

I wish I could find him again.

"There you are." Trace breaks the awkward silence and rises out of his chair. "We were wondering when you’d get out of Madison’s office."

I’m sure Trace was the only one who was wondering where I was, but it’s okay. I’ll give him credit for trying to make this situation as calm as possible. I don’t look at Trace though. I simply continue to stare at Justin’s slightly pissed off expression until I find the courage to say: "Hi, Justin."

For a moment, he doesn’t seem to know what to do. He looks down at his hands and fumbles with the bottom of his shirt for a bit. I can only imagine what kind of thoughts are running through his head right now, and I’m hoping that he doesn’t decide to lash out at me.

"Hi," he says finally.

We’re actually making progress. Granted, it was just a hello...but it could have been worse. He could have started screaming at me or something. I decide to be a little bolder. "How are you?"

But then the calm expression on his face fades, and I know I should have kept our conversation at a ‘hello’ and nothing more. He shoots me a sarcastic smirk. "How do you think I am, Kerri?"

My mouth gapes open a little, and I quickly glance at Trace. He doesn’t look hopeful though, not at all. We both know this is about to turn ugly. "I..."

"Let me tell you," Justin continues. "I don’t know what I was thinking keeping my feelings bottled up for all that time. Being here is like a dream come true. I just love the bars on the windows, and the lukewarm rubber tasting food, and the attire. And oh...I especially love getting stripped searched in the mornings. That’s the best part." He rolls his eyes and gets up from his chair.

"Come on Justin," Trace speaks up, while I stand there in shock. "Just calm down."

"Don’t tell me to calm down," he seethes, and moves closer to the window. "You fuckin brought her here. So you have to deal with the consequences." He leans against the window sill, and gazes out the window. He looks so comfortable this way, and I know this must be one the many things he does to rid himself of the stress that builds up inside of him from day to day.

I wish I had a spot like that back at school. "I’ll just go wait in the car...," I begin to tell Trace, but he grabs my arm before I can even think about taking a step backward.

"Yeah I did bring her here, and it was for your sake," Trace says sternly. "You need her Justin." He shakes his head and looks at me for a long moment. "And she needs you."

This is too emotional for me to bear. I just want to run...run away and never turn back. I try to pull away from Trace, but his grip is too firm. Dammit, he can’t force me into staying! "Let go, Trace!" I tell him roughly.

And he does, but only because his phone starts to ring. I step backward, ready to run.., but then Trace looks at me as if to say he’s going to disown me if I bail out on the situation. I sigh heavily. I don’t know what to do. No matter what my decision though, I’m going to end up pissing somebody off. Damn, why am I always stuck in the middle? It’s just like that time in the woods, when Justin was about to give up. If I left him it would have been bad, if I stayed, it would have been worse for the both of us. I thought I’d moved past all this. I thought I was independent enough to make my own decisions...but I guess I’m still as weak as I was when I got home from the hospital. Everything starts to get blurry. I’m tired...I realize it for the first time in weeks. I’m so...I’m so damn tired. I take a seat in the first chair that comes into view, and I put my head in my hands. I wish Trace would get off the phone and take me back to Justin’s. I need to pack and get out of here. I need to get back to the city. I need a drink...

"Please don’t cry."

I look up, and when my vision clears, I see Justin. I’m confused. Was he the one who said that? "I’m not crying," I say stupidly, as I try to wipe the tears out of my eyes.

He takes a seat in the chair next to me. "This isn’t easy for me...seeing you," he admits.

He looks tired too. Not as tired as I look I’m sure, but tired all the same. I guess I need to understand why he blew up at me. We arrived home on bad terms, we went through a nightmare, and then we parted on bad terms. This isn’t a fairy tale, and people in Justin’s situation don’t take things like this well. I just wish that things didn’t have to be so complicated. I wish we could be the friends we were three years ago. Maybe if we were, he’d be more rational with me right now. "I know," I manage to say. "I can leave...and then you won’t have to worry about it okay? I just thought you would want me to come out here, don’t ask me why." I sigh and run my hands through my hair. "Maybe it was because I was there. I guess maybe I thought I could help or something."

His brow furrows and a serious expression takes the place of his annoyed one. He seems to be considering what I’ve said very carefully. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing...like, that it’s okay that I’m here, because that could result in some horrible consequences. Because if he doesn’t mean it...I’ll be even more crushed.

"Please know that I don’t hate you," he says finally. "I could never hate you Kerri."

I search his eyes for any sign of dishonesty, but there is none. He meant that. And it was the first positive thing that’s come out of his mouth since we were locked in that basement. Somehow, I manage to smile a little bit. "I could never hate you either," I whisper.

He raises his hand to my face, and for a moment I think he might touch me, but then he draws his hand back. "I should go. It’s almost time for group."

"Oh...yeah." My voice quivers slightly as I say the words, and we both rise from our chairs at the same time. "I’m...I’m sorry if I caused you any more stress," I tell him, pausing halfway to the door. "I just...I know you can pull through this Justin."

He nods a little, but doesn’t say anything else. "Tell Trace I’ll call him tomorrow."

"Okay."

Then he walks past me and out of the room. Just like that, he’s out of my life again, and I’m still standing here wondering what the hell just happened.

"He left?"

I hear Trace’s voice behind me, but I don’t turn to look at him. "He did," I say softly. I feel his hand on my shoulder a moment later, and I grab onto it for support.

"You talked a little then?"

I shrug, and lean into him. "If you consider a couple of words talking."

"It’ll get better," he reassures me. "I know it will."

I wish I had the kind of confidence that Trace does. I wish I could suck all the pain up, and stay positive. But I can’t be that way. Everything is hard, everything is sad...everything is a tragedy. I guess that’s what happens when you are pushed to your limit...locked up and threatened...beaten and tortured. You just...you lose hope. And in Justin’s case...

I don’t think he’ll ever get that hope back.

I’ve been really quiet these past couple of days. My private sessions with Madison have pretty much been a waste of time. I haven’t felt like getting into anything too deep, and I know it’s been pissing her off. Before Kerri came to visit, I was starting to open up about things I never thought I could. Not just about having sex with Shane, but the details that went along with it. Madison told me that I need to get into all of that stuff too, if I’m ever going to get past it what happened. It was starting to work, I was starting to open up. I...I told her about that first time in the bathroom. I told her about how he wanted to kiss me, how I let him, and how I knew I was gay after that. I never told anybody about that. Not even Trace, and he knows the bulk of it.

Talking about it wasn’t that scary for me, because I’ve learned to put my trust in Madison. She’s really different...she’s not so strict and serious like the other doctors here. She just wants to listen to me, and right now...I know that’s what I need. What I don’t need, is somebody breathing down my neck trying to get me to talk about everything. Madison...she doesn’t push me much, unless she knows I’m about to talk about something and I start to chicken out. She knows when I’m having a bad day, and if that’s the case she’ll change the subject. Last week we talked about music. Madison really likes music, and couldn’t help but admit that she’d been a fan of mine for a while. It made me a little embarrassed and kind of nervous. For as long as I can remember I’ve always felt the need to perform for my fans, both on and off the stage. When I meet them, I feel like I can’t be myself, because they wouldn’t like the real me. I’m so quiet, and reserved, I’m sure they would think I was a jerk. Yeah, I force smiles, and ramble on about stupid shit that I could care less about. It’s good for them though...they’re happy and I’m unharmed. There isn’t a better combination. I almost started doing the same thing with Madison, but then I remembered who she was, and I realized I needed to snap out of it.

I’ve been sitting in the social room for a few hours now. I wasn’t being cooperative in therapy today, and even less cooperative in group, so Madison kicked me out and sent me in here to write my thoughts down in my journal. At first I was pissed, but now I don’t even know why. I wasn’t making any attempt to work with her, so it’s only right that she dedicates her time to the people who want to be pestered. Eh, I’m a little glad she sent me in here. It’s a really nice day today, and the garden is beautiful. This room has an even better view of the garden than Madison’s office does, and there’s no bars on the windows in here. It’s calming, and it helps me to write. I look back down at the page, and after surveying what I’ve written so far, I continue on.

I stop writing for a moment, and rub my eyes with my free hand. I’m exhausted, and it’s probably part of the reason that I gave Madison such an attitude today. I haven’t slept for more than an hour since my encounter with Doug the day that Kerri came. To think that he really might be watching me when I sleep has me freaked out. But what scares me most of all is, I don’t have any idea what his intentions are. I’m afraid of what will happen if I allow myself to fall asleep at night with Doug in the bed across from me. I don’t know his history...I don’t know what he did to wind up in here. But...I’m pretty sure he’s gay. Don’t ask me how I know...I just do. Hell, it’s probably because I’m gay too, and I can spot things like that easily. I shake my head. I can’t think about this right now. I need to focus on my writing, or else Madison will give me that look of disappointment I hate so much.

The looks she gives me reminds me of the look my mother gives me when she’s displeased with me. It’s a look that like…tells you she knows exactly what you’ve done, or exactly what you’re thinking. I always called it the ‘who do you think you’re kidding look.’ She used that look on me when I tried to lie about why Kerri and I weren’t speaking. ‘You’re not fooling me, Justin,” she had said. Then she shot me that damn look. The look always killed me so yeah, then I told her. I told her about what I did to Kerri…and then I cried. I cried for a long time.

I should be writing this down.

“Is this seat taken?”

I quickly close my journal, and glance in the direction the voice came from. I recognize the girl, she sleeps in the room across the hallway. I see her in the morning sometimes, but she never says anything to me. She’s real pale, real skinny. I can’t remember her name, but I can tell that she’s been through a lot. Probably more than I want to know about. “No, it’s not taken,” I say, and keep my eye on her as she sits down in the chair next to me. I clutch my journal to my chest tightly, just to be safe.

“Dr. Matthews was right,” she leans back in the chair and gazes out the window. “It’s really nice today.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I wish I could just go out there you know…get out of here for a while.”

“Oh yeah, and throw on some normal clothes.” She shifts her body in the chair, and drapes her arm over the arm of the chair. She lets her fingers dangle just inches from the floor, and watches them for awhile before she looks up and smiles at me. “I‘d pick up my boyfriend and make him take me to the mall.” Her eyes grow hungry with excitement and longing. “We‘d sit on one of those benches by the arcade and get those really greasy pretzels. You know the kind I mean,” she nods, and searches my eyes for a response.

My mouth waters a little. I love those stupid pretzels….oh, and those hotdogs with the pretzel thing wrapped around them. Damn, it’s calorie hell but I would kill for it right now. “Yeah, I know those,” I manage to say.

“Where would you go?”

I should tell her I would go to my moms, or back to LA to chill with Trace and Marty and everybody. Or to Florida to spend time with Daddy and Lisa. Or hell, even to Josh’s house to catch up with him and shit. But in my heart, I know I don’t really want to be in any of those places. I mean sure, I love hanging out with my friends and family…but there’s something else…something I would probably put first before any of those things, and I have no fucking idea why. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “I guess…I would want to go apologize to a friend of mine.”

She smiles. “It’s weird what we take for granted on the outside. It takes a place like this to make us understand what we really need. Only then…it‘s too late.”

I stare at her for a long time, but she doesn’t seem to care. What she said…it’s getting to me. Three years…I didn’t talk to Kerri for three years. Why? Why did I just stop…caring? I know she didn’t call me, but I guess I shouldn’t’ have expected her to. I messed with her and I left her to fend for herself. I should have been the man. I should have tried to do something, or at least have listened to Trace all those times he begged me to give the girl a call. Christ, what did I do? Why did I throw her away like that? I shake my head roughly. I…never, I never stopped caring about her. The three year gap made us different…it changed us. And it made her lose all of her faith in me. We have a chance now though. I have a chance to get that awesome friendship I had with her back, and possibly even reconnect with who I used to be. Not just with the person I was before the kidnapping…but with who I was before Kerri and I stopped speaking. I was a lot different then. I was a lot more laid back and care free. I didn’t’ obsess over myself nearly as much, and I didn’t go on all of those crazy diet binges. Kerri was always around to keep me sane and grounded. She was my sanity…

And now she’s back again, still trying…still doing what she can to help out. She didn’t have to come out here. I mean, I know she has a lot of shit to do back in New York…all those exams and papers and whatever else college students have to do. But she put it all on hold for my fucked up ass. God…I’m such an asshole. I really am. “Thanks,” I tell her quickly, as I rise up from the chair. “Thanks a lot.”

“Sure,” she whispers.

I almost say something else to her, so she’ll know I really meant what I said, but then I see the look on her face and I know it’s better if I just back off. She’s gazing out the window now, and she looks so lost and so alone. I don’t know her, so I don’t know what she’s been through…and I’m too much of a self centered asshole to bother finding out what her problem is. Instead, I tuck my journal underneath my arm and make my way out into the hallway. I don’t know what I’m doing. I know I won’t call Kerri, because I’m afraid of what will happen. Maybe…Madison? Yeah. She’ll know what to do. I’ll tell her about my revelation…and she’ll give me awesome advice like always.

But then I realize that I’m moving entirely too fast. Kerri has been through a lot…too much, and I really don’t know if she can afford to play another round with me. If I fuck up again, I don’t want to think about what she’ll do. I skid to a stop…what am I doing? I can’t do this. I’m not that strong. I can’t just apologize. Apologize for what exactly? Screwing her over…dragging her into a nightmare? Pushing her out of my life? There are no words for that…

I must be dumber that I thought.

*************

These past couple of days haven’t been the best. Elisha wants me gone, and she practically told Trace that right in front of me. Granted, I was in the kitchen and I only heard them because I decided to eavesdrop on their little smooch fest….but still, she knew I was around. She’s still pissed about the other day when I yelled at Trace. I makes me want to tell her off, because she can’t understand any of this. I want to tell Trace that too but I’m sure he would strongly disagree with me. According to him ‘Elisha is as much a part of this any of us’, and I just don’t get it. How could she be, when she’s only been dating Trace for a year? She couldn’t possibly understand the complicated mind of Justin Timberlake. Damn, Trace and I have known him our entire lives and he still manages to leave us puzzled.

I guess it’s why I stayed. I don’t want somebody like Elisha driving me away. That’s like…that’s like when Britney tried to tell me not to hang out with Justin. I’m not some groveling little baby…I’ll stay where I want to stay.

“You’re bluffing.” Trace shoots me a cockeyed grin and throws another stack of chips into the ante pile.

“You forget I learned every trick in the book from you,” I chuckle. I add more chips to the pile, and gaze back at my hand. Three kings, two aces. He can’t possibly beat that. It would be a damn miracle.

“Damn girl, I’m glad this isn’t real money. You’d be going back to New York broke. You’d have to buy your sheets from Wal-Mart instead of Bed Bath and Beyond, and knowing Siobhan, that would be a tragedy.” He drops a few more chips into the pile, just to get a rise out of me, and leans back in his lounge chair with that famous ‘I know I’m the best’ smile on his face. Justin used to sport the same one, way back when, and I can’t help but smile. I wish I could see him smile like that again, just once…just so I could know that the Justin I’ve always known is still there, in some form.

“They don’t have Wal-Mart in Manhattan, dork.” I roll my eyes as I drop yet another handful of chips down on the pile. “Are you done yet?”

He holds his cards out in front of him, and strokes his chin in thought. “Now, if I raise again,” he chuckles. “Will it get you to fold?”

“You‘ll have to raise me and see,” I smile devilishly.

“I hate you.”

“You so don’t.”

He rolls his eyes and sits up. “Fine, this is pointless. I can‘t help it that you‘re better at this game than I am. Show me your cards.”

We throw our cards down at the same time, and I smile at his pathetic pair of twos. “And you told me I was bluffing.” I sweep the pile of chips over to my side of the table eagerly. “Dumb ass. You‘re still playing with the same stupid strategy you had when we were in fifth grade.”

He laughs. “You know damn well that Justin came up with it. So don’t bitch, Kerrigan. This isn’t real poker anyway…it’s just for fun. When the stakes are high, I don’t fuck around.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Like the time we went to Vegas and you lost half your bank account at the high roller table in Caesars?”

His eyes widen. “You remember that?”

“How could I forget?,” I giggle a little and lean back in my chair, not forgetting to take my Jack and Coke along with me. “You had a crush on me then, and you were trying to impress me with your bankroll.”

He crosses his tattooed arms across his chest and gives me a stubborn look. “I didn’t have a crush on you,” he pouts. “And even if I did, I never stood a chance anyway.”

I shoot him a playful smile. “How would you know? You never asked me out.”

“Come on Ker.” he laughs. “Everybody knows about those late night make out sessions you and Justin had on the bus.”

His comment reminds me of too many things I don’t want to think about, and I chug the rest of my drink., wincing a little as the whiskey burns my throat.. “That was then,” I shrug, as I pick up the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels that we’ve been sharing. Well, sharing is putting it mildly I guess. Trace is only on his third drink. I however, am on my sixth. Not that I‘m like, slobbering all over myself. It would take at least six or seven more to take me to that level My tolerance for the stuff has grown considerably since I started relying on it to get to sleep. But I‘m pretty sure that if I stand up, I‘ll be staggering around a little.

I begin to dwell on what Trace has just mentioned, even though I really don’t’ want to. I remember those days well. After a long day of radio stations, fans, and entertaining all Justin would want to do was lie in his bus with me next to him and get out all of his aggressions. We didn’t’ make out so much as we cuddled. I never said much, I just listened to him talk and toyed with what was then his oversized afro. We were never an official couple. Britney always popped back in at the wrong moments, and stole the spotlight away from me. It never offended me though. I guess I was just content being around him, being able to confide in him, being able to be his best friend that sometimes made out with him. It wasn’t until we slept together that I knew I wanted more out of him, and when he didn’t give it to me I was crushed. Sometimes I wondered why I expected him to drop everything for me though. I tended to forget that Justin was who he was, and even if he did stick around, our relationship probably wouldn’t’ have lasted. He was always traveling, and there was no way my parents would have let me drop school to travel around with him. I’m sure we could have done the long distance thing, but then we would have had to face the insecurity/temptation thing. It would have turned ugly, I know it now. I just wish I could have realized all of that before I gave up my virginity.

“How do you really feel?”

After pouring the rest of the whiskey into my cup, I put down the bottle, and look at him strangely. “About what?”

He leans his head against his hand, and sighs. “You know…about everything.”

I run my tongue over my bottom lip, and can taste the whiskey at the corners of my mouth. “I don’t know,” I sigh. “The same I guess.”

"You can't feel the same Kerri," he informs me. "Things have changed a lot since it all happened."

I take a swig. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Things have been hard, but I’m adjusting, or at least I’m trying to. I’m paranoid, school is hard, I’m driving Siobhan crazy with my less than desirable cleaning fetish, and my mother doesn‘t call me anymore. And then you called me and asked me to come out here, and I did. And because I did, Justin hates me even more and your girlfriend thinks I‘m a bitch. So yeah, Trace, I feel like shit. That’s how I really feel.” I roll my eyes, and continue to indulge myself with my drink.

“Justin doesn’t’ hate you,” he points out. “He’s dealing with a lot. Too much I think.”

I meet his gaze. “And I’m not?”

He sighs. “I didn’t say that.”

I laugh. “Yeah, sure.”

“Justin is dealing with a lot more stuff than you are, that’s all. He’s just…he had a really terrible thing happen to him.”

“We were both there Trace.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

Trace knows the truth…the entire truth about what happened to Justin. I guess I know too, but not because he told me. I feel like I’ve been left in the dark a little. I mean, I know Shane did something horrible. Something…god…sick, and demented. I’ve tried not to think about it a lot. I don’t want to assume the worst, and I know what the worst is. I watch the news, I read the papers. There are sick people in this world, and I’ve tried to convince myself that Shane wasn’t as sick as them…but deep inside I know I’m right when I say that Shane was a perverted son-of-a-bitch.

So I guess the question I should really be asking myself is, was Justin raped?

I choke back a sob, and rub my temples with my index fingers. I won’t believe it. Guys don’t get raped. Shane couldn’t have possibly…just, no. I shake my head vigorously. Everything is fine.

“Kerri?”

But I won’t look at him.

“We have to face facts at some point. I know you know what that guy did to him. And I know it makes you sick to your stomach all the time. It does the same thing to me…”

“I’m not talking about this,” I refuse. “It’s disgusting.”

He shrugs. “Of course it’s disgusting. How do you think Justin was handling it all, Kerri? He was keeping all of it inside, and it was killing him. He was slicing himself open, every day. And I mean, I knew something was up, when he started to get skittish about taking his shirt off in front of people but I never forced him to admit anything to me. I guess I just thought he would get past it…damn, but how the hell…how the hell could I expect him to get past something like that on his own?”

I hear the pain in his voice, and it forces me to look at him. I see tears in his eyes. Trace walked in on all of this, I can picture it in my mind. Justin sitting there…bleeding, shaking, crying. He begged Trace to help him, and when he did, Justin admitted everything to him. I don’t know how Trace dealt with it all. He’s a hell of a lot stronger than I’ll ever be though, that’s for sure. “Trace…”

“And you know, it’s me who’s responsible,” he continues, more to himself than to me. “I was stupid and I fucked up and this is what happened to him.” He rises from his chair and pushes it in roughly.

Now I’m really confused. “How is it your fault,” I say, shaking my head a little. “It’s nobodies fault Trace. Nobody could have known what was going to happen.”

But he doesn’t answer me. He only takes his drink, and after shooting me another sad look, walks back into the house.

********

The other morning during therapy and Krispy Kreme’s, Madison finally found out how exhausted I am. No, she didn’t guess…she found out because I kept dozing off. One minute she would be talking to me and I would be trying as hard as I could to pay attention, and the next minute I would be dozing off. I really didn’t’ want that to happen, but I couldn’t help it. It felt so good to let my eyes close, just for a few minutes…I guess my body was trying to tell me something. She asked me what was the matter, and then I made the mistake of telling her that I hadn’t been sleeping very well. Of course her next question was why, and I knew I should have told her about the whole Doug thing, but I was afraid if I did he would find out somehow, and try to kill me in my sleep or some crazy shit. Naturally, in an attempt to rid Madison of her concern, I resorted to the next best excuse…Kerri. I guess it wasn’t a total line of bullshit. Seeing her again was a big deal for me, and I still can’t get her off of my mind no matter how hard I try…

But I’m not losing sleep over her.

Since my reason for staying awake all hours seemed so fixable, Madison’s immediate solution was to jack up my horse pill intake in the evenings. I was pissed at her, because she knows how I feel about chemical dependency. She reassured me that the heavy doses would only last for a week or so, just so I could calm down a little bit. “It’s for your own good, Justin,” she pointed out. “If you don’t sleep you can’t concentrate on getting better, and if you don’t get better you can’t go on living. It’s that simple.” But nothing she can say will change my mind. Pills are just…bad. I know a lot of people who got addicted to that kind of stuff, and they ruined their lives. The horrible thing is, I can’t refuse my medicine. It’s going against the rules, and I’m deathly afraid of going against the rules. If know if I do, they’ll take my social room time away…or worse, they’ll lock me in that little room. I can’t risk that. I’d probably snort crack before I would allow myself to be subjected to that kind of torture.

So yeah, they put me on this new med routine at night. It’s the same stuff I’ve been taking, only in a higher dosage. Its’ horrible too. Instead of simply making me a little drowsy, it practically knocks the wind out of me within ten minutes of swallowing it. I’m confined to my bed, and I can’t move around or talk or anything. It makes me weak and vulnerable, like Shane made me. But despite the powerful medicine my body is being subjected to, somehow I’ve managed to fight back. These past couple of nights I’ve been lying here, completely numb from head to toe, but in a relaxed sort of way. If I wasn’t so terrified of Doug, I know I could sleep like a baby. But I’m still so fucked up from Shane and everything, I guess my brain has conjured up some sort of amazing defense mechanism. It won’t allow me to sleep…

Because Doug is right there in his bed. He looks like he’s sleeping but I’ve convinced myself otherwise. I know he’s just like Shane…always waiting until I’m most vulnerable. He’s a prowler, a psycho, an animal, a pervert…

And I will not allow myself to give in again.

I blink a few times. The ceiling, it’s starting to sort of…mutate? It’s twisting and turning, and changing colors. Now it’s this dark, dirty brown color, and immediately I feel so cold. Then I look and I realize I am no longer in the safe confinements of the psychiatric clinic. The bed wobbles when I move, like it might collapse at any moment, and then…then I smell the mattress and I know where I am. I think I’m gonna throw up. No way. How can this be happening to me?

The door creaks open loudly, and I hear him enter the room. I hear a low pathetic sounding cry coming from the hallway, and immediately I think of Kerri but then the door closes and the sound is gone. I look, and I see him standing there. He loves me…the expression on his face is telling me so. But I…I don’t’ want to love him. “Please, Shane,” I whisper. “Not tonight.”

“Shh,” he presses a finger to his lips and slowly begins to make his way across the room and over to me.

My teeth begin to chatter, and I wrap my arms around myself protectively. I feel them make contact with the warmth of my bare chest, and it’s only then that I realize I’m naked. Completely naked.

“Hey beautiful.” Shane smiles softly and curls up next to me on the bed. He caresses my face with his hand and kisses my cheek tenderly. “I’m sorry I’m late. I missed you.”

I’m silent, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that if I do it long enough, all of this will simply stop and I’ll be back in my room, safe and sound.

“Tell me you missed me, Justin.”

I hold my breath. I won’t…I won’t say it. But then, I feel the cold mouth of the gun pressing into my forehead and my brain forces me to open my eyes. He’s smiling again. He loves it when I’m scared.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“I missed you.” I choke back a sob and pray that he doesn’t shoot me.

“I know baby,” he nods affectionately, and puts his gun away. “But don’t worry.” He grabs his lips with mine and starts to fumble with his belt buckle. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

I allow him to kiss me, to shove his tongue into my mouth, and I know he won‘t let his lips leave mine until he‘s satisfied that I‘m kissing him back, so I do…I kiss him back. Then his lips leave mine and he runs a trail of kisses down my neck, my chest, my stomach…

“I need a taste baby,” he smiles casually, and starts to play with my stuff. “It won’t take but a minute or two.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want you to,” I tell him. “Don’t do it, Shane.”

But he doesn’t hear me. And then I feel him do it…I’m in his mouth, and I can’t stop him. I start to cry, and I beg him to leave me alone. Over and over I beg him, but he still won’t listen. He keeps sucking and jerking and touching and fondling and really, I wish I could grab his gun and shoot myself with it. Anything would be better than this…anything at all.

“I need you,” he groans. “I need to feel you .” He quickly strips off the rest of his clothes, and hovers over me. “Turn over,” he tells me gently, and brushes his lips across my chin. “Do it.”

But I won’t do it this time. I won’t give in. I won’t. I need to prove to him that I’m not gay, that I can live my life normally like I always have.

“You know what you are,” he says gruffly. “There’s no sense in denying it anymore…so just give in.”

"No," I whimper. I try to push him away, but he's so heavy, and so strong...and I'm so damn weak, that I just can't. I let him touch me more, I let him do what he wants to me. This is who I am...and I guess I have to come to terms with that...

My eyes open, and I’m crying. I don’t know how I got back here, all I know is that whatever Shane was doing to me hasn’t stopped. I moan a little, and then I snap out of my drowsy confused state just in time to see what’s going on. Doug…I see him, but why is he on top of me? Why…why are my pants pulled down, why is he touching me down there and why….

Oh my god.

“Get off!” I cry, and knock him to the floor. For a moment, he just sits there, seemingly puzzled by my sudden course of action. But then he smiles, as if he was expecting me to do this all along.

“I won’t tell,” he reassures me. “I promise. It’s our secret.”

Then I’m on top of him. I’m punching him…just punching him. I can’t stop punching him. He keeps switching…first he’s Doug then he’s Shane. I don’t know who I want to kill more. “I hate you Shane!” I scream as my fist makes contact with his jaw. “I hate you!” I’m sobbing uncontrollably, and there is blood all over the floor. I don’t even know if he’s still conscious, all I know is that I hate him…whoever it is, and I never want him to get the chance to hurt me again. “Just die already! Just fucking die!”

I feel a strong force pull me back suddenly, and I cry out in fear. “Don’t touch me!” I scream. It must be Nathan. He’s here to help his brother. He’s going to lock me in the basement again, and then he’s going to kill Kerri. Oh god, no…Kerri. I struggle against Nathan‘s grip, my mind only focused on getting Kerri out of here and back home where she’s safe. I have to. I owe it to her. It’s my responsibility because I took her to get the cake…

“Justin…focus. Look at me and focus.”

I hear the voice clearly, and it’s familiar but I can’t place it. It’s a woman, I know that. I can trust a woman. A woman isn’t going to try and do things with a fag like me. I suck in a breath and glance up. Then I see her… “Madison,” I croak.

She crouches down to my level. “Take a deep breath,” she instructs.

I do, and suddenly everything seems so much clearer. The lights are on. I’m not in the house, and Shane is nowhere to be found. Walter is the one who’s been gripping me by the shoulders and…Doug…Doug is being loaded onto a stretcher by two other orderlies. I can hear him moaning. He’s in a lot of pain, but I don’t care. He was…he tried to… “He was touching me,” I sob.

She nods. “I know, Justin.”

“But what about Kerri?” I ask. I can’t be too careful. I heard her screaming before. “Is Kerri okay?”

Madison smiles and pats my shoulder. “Kerri is just fine.”

I hug my knees to my chest and rock myself a little. “I don’t like it when people try to touch me,” I sob again. “I’m trying not to be gay anymore…and then Shane always comes and tries to make me do it again.” I look up into her warm brown eyes and grab onto her arm for support. “Can you make him stop, Madison? Just for one night? Please?”

And she reassures me that he’s never going to hurt me again, at least I think that’s what she’s saying, but I can barely hear her. Something bit me on my bicep, and now I’m tired again. I wish I wasn’t so tired. Shane likes to come around…when…I’m…

I’m sitting out in the hallway, because I really don’t feel like facing Justin’s shrink this morning. I know I must look like hell, because I only got about an hour of sleep last night, and I know if Madison saw me this way she would start asking me all kinds of questions. It’s not my fault I couldn’t sleep. I felt funny drinking myself to sleep in Justin’s house, with Trace right down the hall. It didn’t feel right…like, I would have felt disrespectful doing it. For the first time in a long time, I tried to get to sleep the old fashioned way. I kept all the lights on, and covered up and closed my eyes. But I should have known that my plan was doomed from the start. I had the damn Saturday morning dream again. It was really intense this time though. Shane was there, and I actually saw him doing stuff to Justin. And Justin, he was crying out, begging for Shane to stop…but Shane wouldn’t stop and I was too frightened to pull him off of Justin. Then I woke up, cold, sweaty, and gasping for air. The numbers on the clock were glowing a bright red 6:45...

And then the phone started to ring.

Trace wouldn’t’ tell me what happened. The whole car ride up here, his gaze was intensely set on the road, and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning his knuckles a sort of reddish-white color. I tried to get something out of him though. I didn’t like being totally clueless as to why we had to rush up here so damn early in the morning. When Trace took the exit leading into Orange Valley and stopped at a red light, that’s when he started to talk to me. He told me he didn’t want to tell me everything, because then he wouldn’t’ be able to drive the rest of the way. I told him I would drive, but he shook his head. He said if he didn’t’ drive, he would probably throw up. So I sat back and said it was okay. I told him to tell me whatever he could, even if it didn’t make sense. I think my comment put his mind as ease a little, because after that…he just started to ramble on and on about how fucked up it was that Justin has to go through all of this. He said something happened to Justin in the middle of the night, and that he didn’t know what kind of state we were going to find him in when we got there. Naturally, I got up the guts to ask what happened again, but Trace wouldn’t’ go there. I pretended to understand though, and the rest of the ride was mostly silent.

“Kerri.”

I pick my head up out of my hands, and glance at Madison’s doorway, which has been closed for a good hour now. She and Trace have been in there all this time, talking about whatever happened to Justin last night. I thought I could hear Trace raise his voice a few times, and once I almost got up to go inside and see what was wrong, but of course I chickened out.

Madison is standing in the now open door way, clip board in hand…fake look of sympathy spread across her face. I roll my eyes. She’s going to try and evaluate me now, just like she did the other day. I groan. I’m not here for that. I will not be evaluated at 9:30 in the morning. “What,” I mutter. “Are you here to antagonize me again?”

She shakes her head and sits down in the chair beside me. “I need to tell you a few things, before I can let you see Justin.”

“Who says I want to see him,” I grunt. “Trace dragged me up here, you know. He’s the one that wants to see him. Just leave me out of it.”

“I know all of this has been very hard for you,” she says, practically ignoring my comment. “And I know you and Justin are going through a very confusing time in your friendship. But please believe me when I say…you are probably the key to his rehabilitation. I need you to stop thinking about the past, and focus on what‘s going on right now. He needs you to be his friend right no.”

I shake my head in annoyance. “I don’t get this,” I snap. “I don’t even know what the hell is going on. Nobody tells me anything. They just drag me out here and expect me to get it, because I was there with him. Now granted, I know that a lot of sick shit happened to Justin, but that doesn’t mean I understand okay? I’m just as confused as Trace is…as his family is. And…then I have to deal with what I went through on top of it.” I rub my face with my hands, and feel my face begin to burn. I’m starting to cry, and I hate it, but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t sleep. I hardly eat. I don’t’ go out. I just…I’m dead okay? They didn’t need to shoot me to make me this way.”

I feel her hand rubbing my back in a circular motion, as I let my emotions out. Siobhan does this to me a lot, especially when I’m really drunk and sobbing like a fool. It feels good, but I don’t want to let her in. Letting her in is letting my guard down. I pull away from her. “Just stop,” I sob. “Stop it.”

I feel her hand leave my back. “Can I please talk to you now?” she asks.

I slowly pick my head up out of my hands. Why tell her no? She’ll only sit here and state the reasons why I should let her talk to me anyway. I shrug. “Talk,” I sniffle, and wipe my nose and eyes with the back of my sleeve.

“I‘m telling you this in confidence, Kerri. Trace is listed as one of Justin's Lifelines, meaning he has the right to speak for Justin when he can’t speak for himself, and he has given me his permission to share this with you. We both feel that you are key to Justin's recovery, and it‘s vital that you know all of the details.” She stares at me for a brief moment, but when I don’t say anything, she continues on. “I want you to understand though, that the patient/doctor privilege is a sacred thing. I would hope you wouldn’t be compelled to tell anybody what I’m about to tell you.”

I blink. “If it’s a secret maybe you should just keep your mouth shut,” I whisper. I feel my skin start to crawl, and I wrap my arms around myself protectively. Deep down, I know what she’s about to tell me. I don’t want her to tell me.

She doesn‘t hesitate. “Justin was raped.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t. If I open my mouth, I might end up vomiting all over this nice shiny floor. It’s true. I could deny it before, but I can’t anymore. It’s really true, and there’s nothing I can do to change that fact. “Why?,” I hear myself ask, stupidly. “It wasn’t enough that he beat the shit out of him? He had to take his dignity too?” I start to cry openly, loudly. She pulls me close to her, and normally I would push her away. But I’m too overcome with emotion to care right now. I’m numb. I feel responsible. We were fighting in the basement…and I screamed at him, and then Shane put me in that shed. That’s when it happened; Shane raped him while I was locked up. The intensity of it all overwhelms me, and I feel nauseated. I realize that Madison is still holding me, and I pull away from her. “Bathroom?,” I sob. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right there,” she murmurs, and points to a doorway across the hall.

I shoot out of my chair, and rush inside the bathroom. I pause at the first sink I come in contact with, and lean over it. I glance at myself in the mirror, and hate the person staring back at me. She’s a mixture of fatigue, fear, and sadness. She doesn’t know what to do for her friend. What can she do? How can she ever understand what it was like for him…being forced to have intercourse with the same sex? I look down into the sink and ask myself the same questions. What can I do? How can I understand? Hell, will he even allow me to understand? I think…I try to focus…I close my eyes.

I open my eyes. It all makes sense now. The way he cowered in the corner of the basement. How he told me not to touch him anymore. “Oh god,“ I whimper. A sharp pain shoots through my stomach, and I brace myself against the sink.

Then breakfast comes back to greet me.

*************

The color of the door is a dark rustic brown. The door to the basement was almost the same color, but the paint was chipping and there were dent marks where somebody had probably kicked it in. I remember it clearly. I remember the sound it made when it was being opened. That hollow creaking sound, like the hinges hadn’t been oiled in years. I remember the sharp clicking sound the lock made when it was being opened. I remember those stairs. Made of stone…dirty and grimy, like the rest of that little cellar. I remember the mattress, and the itchy wool blanket, provided for comfort. Comfort. There was no comfort in that place. Only when I was in the safety of Justin’s strong arms, could I even begin to feel protected.

I long to be in them again.

Justin is on the other side of that door. Trace and Madison walked me down here, but when I asked them to go inside with me Madison said no. I felt like I was being abandoned, but Madison’s explanation was that Justin wasn’t ready to deal with all three of us at the same time. She said that Trace would have his time later, but that right now I was the only person he needed. Then Trace sort of nodded, and said “Go ahead.” I was sure he was going to break down in front of me, so I turned my back.

And when I turned around again I was alone.

It’s been a good half hour since then, and I still can’t bring myself to go in there. Hell, I can’t even touch the door. I’m so scared. I don’t know what will happen if I go in there. I’m not prepared to face Justin, in his torn apart state of mind. Madison told me the reason he’s so messed up today. Apparently his roommate decided he wanted to try Justin out for himself, and he tried to rape him. He would have succeeded too if he hadn’t beaten the hell out of him. Fucking sick. This place is fucking sick. How could they put Justin in the same room with a molester, a pervert? God, he must be a wreck, so confused, so scared…like the day we got out of that fucking house. Nobody can really understand how he feels, because they weren’t there with him…

But I was there with him.

I lean my back against the wall, and stare up at the ceiling. My bottom lip quivers. I’m trying to make a good decision. I guess I need to go in there and try to help him, because I‘m the one that can relate to him the most right now. But will Justin even want me there? Hell, I don’t know. It could be bad…I could end up filling his head with all of those horrible memories, and that’s the last thing he needs. If that happens, he’ll start to yell at me and blame me for fucking with his head. Then I’ll break down, I know I will, and then Justin will go into a deeper depression. But I can’t go back to Madison’s office empty handed. Trace will be there, and he’d be so disappointed in me. I know he’s counting on me to do this…for the both of us. Suck it up, Kerri. I take a deep breath. In and out…out and in. I smooth my hair back, and make sure my blouse is neat and tidy. I want to look presentable right now, but I don’t know why. I guess I’m doing it for him. I want him to have confidence in me. I want him to trust me again.

I put my hand on the doorknob, and after a minute or ten, I manage to turn it and push the door open. My stomach is in knots, and I can practically feel the vomit making its way out of my stomach and up towards my throat. I know I could probably run out of here and puke all over again, but then I see him. Justin is curled in a ball on the bed, his arms drawn protectively to his chest. His eyes are open, but I don’t think he knows I‘m here. He looks very distant, very deep in thought. I begin to chew my bottom lip furiously. I don’t know what to do or what to say. Maybe there are no words. Maybe I should just stand here and stare like a fucking idiot…

“So, I guess you know.”

I nearly die of shock when I hear his voice. His tone is raspy, and hollow. It’s almost like he has no voice at all. It’s so strange to see him this way. Justin used to be the most confident person I knew. Nothing could bring him down, nothing and nobody. If he wanted something, he got it. If he wanted to do something, he did it. It didn’t matter what people thought, because he was confident in himself, and his sexuality. But now, that person is gone. This is Justin now…torn apart, confused…and dying inside. The tears begin to roll down my face. For the first time, in a long time, I would give anything in the world to be able to rid him of his pain. What happened between us doesn’t seem to matter right now. The only thing that matters is that Justin was taken advantage of…Shane raped him, and he needs somebody to tell him it’s not his fault.

Somebody like me.

“It’s not your fault,” I finally say. I feel bad admitting that I know about the rape. I’m sure Justin didn’t want me to find out this way, but I hope he understands why Madison told me. I mean, I’m sure he does, because he talks to her a lot more than I ever will. Still though, he must be humiliated. I can’t even begin to imagine what he must have felt like when Shane was doing all that to him. Was he conscious? I know he must have been. If he wasn’t, I’m sure it wouldn’t have effected him quite so badly. But then, how did Shane get him to cooperate? Did he tie Justin up? Did he point that gun in his face? Did he hold him down…twist his arm behind his back? Did he hit him?

I sit down on the edge of his bed. Thinking about what he was forced to do, makes me want to wrap my arms around him and hold him, but I won’t. Just like I wouldn’t comfort him that first night in the basement. I was scared of what kind of emotions would arise between us, and I feel the same way now. I’m still scared of him, even though I shouldn’t be. It’s ridiculous, crazy even, but I can’t make myself give him any sort of physical comfort right now.

He draws in a long, raspy breath, but he still won’t look at me. He curls himself into a smaller ball, and sucks his bottom lip in. “Kerri,” he says after a few moments, his voice barely audible. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

I shake my head. “No,” I say softly. “I don’t think that you’re a freak.”

He finally looks at me. His eyes are glossy, bloodshot, and there are dark circles underneath them. Those circles…I always get them, but I cover it up with make up. It’s obvious that doesn’t sleep well, if he even sleeps at all. I guess now I can say I have something in common with him again. Yeah, great. “God, Kerri…” he sits up quickly, and rubs his eyes, which were starting to tear up. “You shouldn’t see me this way, okay? I’m fine, so just go back to the house.” He backs up against the wall, and hugs his knees to his chest. Then he starts to rock himself.

I rock myself a lot, late at night when I can’t sleep and I’m all alone. It makes me feel better. I feel protected. Sometimes I pretend that Justin is the one holding me, instead of myself. But that’s crazy. I shouldn’t ever think of him that way. I doubt he’ll ever want to touch me, or anybody else again. “I’m not going to just leave you here alone,” I tell him. “I…I guess you need me. That’s what Madison seems to think.”

“I blacked out,” he mutters. “And I asked where you were. I just…I didn’t see the room here, all I could see was that fucking hell hole. I was fucked up, you know? I was trying to stay awake, but then I must have fallen asleep, and then Shane came…and when I woke up this guy they room me with was on top of me. I mean…his hands were just all over me…” he pauses, and looks down at his lap. Then he begins to cry. Softly at first, but then his cries grow louder. He presses his face into his knees, and he just…he just cries. He can’t seem to stop. His entire body is shaking, and he seems to small, so fragile. I’m convinced if somebody came and pushed him off the bed, he would shatter into a thousand pieces.

And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do for him.

“I didn’t want Shane to do what he did,” he chokes out, in between his sobbing. “Okay?”

“Shh.” I don’t know how I ended up beside him, all I know is I am now. Without another moment of hesitation, my hand goes to his face, and I gently wipe the hot tears off of his cheeks. I’m touching him, and I’m still afraid, but my gut instinct is telling me that everything is okay, and that I’m doing the right thing. “Justin, I know you didn’t. It wasn’t your fault or anything. Shane was evil.”

He calms down a little bit, and meets my gaze after a moment. His expression is full of confusion and fear. I don’t think he knows what to say to me. But that doesn’t matter. He’s talking to me, and that in itself is a major step for him. “I didn’t want to do it Kerri. But Shane told me he would kill you if I didn’t behave,” he sobs. “And I didn’t know what else to do. I…I couldn’t let you die, Kerri. Not like that.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, and the tears start to crawl down my face before I have the chance to stop them. What he’s just told me is sinking in quickly, and I’m surprised I haven’t hit the floor yet. Shane dangled me in front of Justin…like a little toy. Justin let Shane rape him, because of me. It’s entirely my fault. If I hadn’t been there, Justin would have fought back, I’m sure of it. If only I had refused to go with Justin to pick up the cake…maybe none of this would have ever happened. Justin would be fine, unstable of course, but he would still have his dignity. He certainly wouldn’t have started to cut himself, and he certainly wouldn’t have wound up in this place.

It’s. All. My. Fault

It’s all your fault. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve heard Nathan’s voice in the back of my mind, and I’m terrified. This has only happened twice before. Once after I‘d had a fight with my mother, and another time when I was really fucking trashed. I guess it could be the stress taking it’s toll on me, but right now it seems so real I don’t know what to think

“Stop,” I whimper. I close my eyes and I cover my ears. “Stop it, Nathan.” I can’t be sure if Justin’s heard me, but I pray that’s not the case. I really don’t’ want to freak him out anymore. But the voice…it’s just so real, and I need it to stop before I wind up in this place too.

A warmness surrounds me, and I feel safe for the first time in a long, long time. I grab onto the feeling with my hands, and lean into it. I accept it. I love it.

“I got you.”

I hear his voice and I open my eyes.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Kerri,” he says sternly. “I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

It’s his arms that are surrounding me. He’s embracing me. He’s keeping me safe from Shane, Nathan and the rest of my nightmares, and I find that I can’t pull away from him. “It’s my fault,” I croak. “I’m so sorry, Justin. I’m so sorry that I did this to you.”

He lips land lightly on my forehead, but I can feel his body shudder as they make contact with my skin. I wish he wouldn’t do that. We’re not ready to be this close, but it seems to be the only solution to our problems at the moment. We both need to feel safe. But at the same time we need to be around people that can understand us. But nobody can really understand us, or what happened…

And I realize the only people we have to rely on are each other.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, either,” I promise him. I lean back against his broad chest, and breath him in. He smells like…clean. Like clean and cheap aftershave, but I love it. It’s a safe smell, a kind smell, and all I want to do is lie here in his arms forever.

“Don’t go home,” he pleads. “Okay?”

I look up at him, suddenly realizing that I’m supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon. If I don’t leave tomorrow, I’ll miss my interview. But I don’t tell him this. I’m too enveloped in him to let him down right now. “I‘m…I can work something out,” I nod.

And he smiles genuinely.

“Stay,” he says softly, tightening his embrace around me. “I want you to.”

And I know I will.

The moment Justin wrapped his arms around me, I was taken back in time. Back to a time that I knew who I was, and where I was going with my life. Back to a time when I wasn’t in a constant state of panic…a time that I slept at night, and I time that Justin and I were inseparable. I wished like hell that it was all real, that everything was changing back to how it once was. But I’m not that stupid, and I knew it was only a matter of moments before my eyes would open and I would be back to square one.

I looked into his eyes that day, and rather than seeing the despondency that had recently taken them over, I saw something else, something I didn’t think he was capable of feeling anymore. I saw that guy I used to know, just for a moment. I saw--I saw heart, and I realized how badly I’d missed Justin. Then that look of fear and concern took over him again, and I was forced back into the reality of it all. I thought he was going to cry again, but he didn’t. He-- smiled at me, and then he said: “Stay, I want you to.”

I didn‘t waste time thinking about my decision. I said yes right away, and continued to let him hold me. Looking back on it now, I know that I made my decision a bit hastily. I know I should have at least discussed my options with Trace before making any final decisions. I don’t know, I guess I was just so hell bent on not letting Justin down, saying yes seemed like the best answer at the time. I didn’t think about the other things I had going on; school, parents, or my career opportunity. Justin took up my entire brain capacity…he was all I wanted, all I needed…and I was too enveloped in him to realize what would inevitably happen once the day was over and I had to face facts.

After we’d calmed down enough to have a civilized conversation, things really started to smooth out between us. We were able to relate to each other again, and for a while, it was almost as if we’d never been separated at all. We got off the subject of Shane’s and Nathan’s for a little while, and started to talk about other things. I got a little bit into school, and what had been going on with Siobhan and the new apartment. He seemed genuinely interested, and wanted to know if I’d gotten any job offers from any of the New York radio stations yet. I decided it was better not to get into the Z100 thing. I knew it wasn’t going to happen since I’d decided to stay, and I knew Justin would feel like he was preventing me from fulfilling my dreams if he knew the truth. So I fibbed a little, and told him I hadn’t heard back from any of the stations I applied to yet. Being ‘Mr. Connections’, he offered to help, and I politely refused; reasoning that the last thing on my mind was school and what I was going to do about a job once I‘d graduated.

Surprisingly, Justin started to talk about his own work. He’s going on tour again, and I was kind of shocked to hear that news. After everything that he’s been through, I didn’t think he would have the strength or desire to face another grueling tour schedule, especially since he’d just finished a winter European tour, and a major US co headliner. I told him he shouldn’t put himself through it, but then he just laughed that familiar laid back laugh of his and told me that if he didn’t do something to get his mind off of ‘having sex with Shane‘, he would probably end up back in the ‘loony bin’, as he put it. He said the tour was going to be good for him, and for Trace too. He said he wanted to reconnect with Trace business wise, because it was key to their friendship‘s survival. He said Trace was still weirded out by everything, even though he’d been trying not to let it show, and that touring, paperwork and hectic schedules were sure fire ways to get him back on track. I almost asked how he could try to get Trace’s life on track if he still hadn’t done that with his own; but I didn’t want to spoil the mood, so I let it go.

We parted ways on good terms. Justin told me that he would really love it if I came back to visit him as much as I could, so we could catch up on our three year gap. It made me smile, knowing that he wanted to discuss more than just what we’d been through. I realized there was a lot more to discuss. I mean, he didn’t’ know anything about my college experience, and I didn’t’ know anything about the details behind his solo project. I left Orange Valley Psychiatric that day in high hopes that we’d started on the road to a new beginning. I figured things were bound to turn around, that Justin and I would go on and live our lives as normally as our situations would allow us to, and have regained our friendship at the same time.

I told Trace about it, and he agreed that things were probably going to change for the better. But he was quick to warn me that it was going to take a long time for Justin to readjust to the outside world. Trace said there were steps everybody was going to have to take with Justin, to help him get back to his old self; and that those steps weren’t going to be easy to focus on with another major tour on the way. Trace seemed bitter about the tour too for some reason, almost like he wished it wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t’ really understand, but how could I? I wasn’t there for all the stuff that happened after the kidnapping. In fact, I hadn’t even seen any of the alleged cuts that Trace told me about. I didn’t dare ask Justin about them, or where they were located, for the fear of conjuring up memories that he wasn’t ready to deal with at the time. The whole ride home, I found that my mind was filling with more questions than I’d originally had about the situation. I thought I understood everything, and Madison seemed to think I did. But Trace was proving me wrong…over and over again…

And that’s when the realization that everything wasn’t all sunshine and smiles, impacted me.

My real wake up call came the following morning. I was sprawled out across the sectional leather sofa in Justin’s family room, still in my pajama’s, causally flicking through the television stations with the remote. Elisha had been out by the pool, perfecting her tan, and I was glad because we still weren’t getting along and I’d been trying to avoid her at all costs. Trace, who had been making an obvious attempt to be the leader and control everything since I’d arrived days before, was in the kitchen cooking up breakfast for the three of us. It was all so normal, and for the first time since I’d arrived in California my mind and body were at ease. So much at ease in fact, I think I might have been able to take a nap if it hadn’t been for the sudden ringing of the phone.

Loud noises have been freaking me out since that night I tried to run from Shane and Nathan. The gun went off, and then I got down on the ground, praying to god that they didn‘t shoot me right then and there. I’d never heard a real gun shot go off before that, but by the end of our endeavor, I’d heard it enough times for the sound to be permanently imbedded into my memory. The first few nights back in the city were harder for me because of this. Every sharp banging sound coming from the outside world, completely freaked me out. Siobhan had to sit up with me a lot that first week, while I begged her to protect me from Shane, Nathan, and their guns. There was one memory in particular that kept replaying itself in my mind. Shane was sitting against that pile of dirt from my would-be grave. He was smiling, and aiming his gun at Justin and I…ready to kill whoever he could before he passed on. Then the gunshot would go off, and I would be able to feel the blood splatter on me again. I’ve calmed down a lot since then, but I still get jumpy when a loud noise suddenly jumps out at me….like the ringing of a phone.

The ringing caused me to sit straight up on the couch. I was gripping the cushion beneath me and looking around like a crazy person. I felt stupid once I spotted Trace standing against the wall, talking and laughing into the mouthpiece. I wished like hell that I could get over myself and relax. I was at Justin’s house. I was safe, and I had every reason in the world to be calm, but I wasn’t. I was still edgy. I still didn’t sleep at night, and I was still drinking excessively when I knew I could get away with it.

Then the reality check came. Trace came plodding over to me, his hand over the mouthpiece. His expression was a concerned one, and I knew that whoever was on the phone wasn’t anybody I would want to deal with at that moment. Then he said, “It’s Siobhan…and I think she’s pretty pissed off.”

I wished I could have told him to take a message. Maybe if I’d ignored her that day, I wouldn’t have gone through all the emotional bullshit that followed. But I didn’t ignore her, because she was my best friend, and she’d sacrificed a lot of her time to comfort me. Part of me believed that she was only calling to check on me, but the other part of me…the smarter part, knew better. The conversation that followed was nothing more than a sneak preview of everything that was to come. I said hello to Siobhan, but she barely greeted me. She just started rambling on and on about how pissed off she was.

“Okay, so I could tolerate your mother calling me up a few times a day, and leaving stupid messages for you when I didn’t bother to answer the phone,” she’d grunted. “But she crossed the line when I was having sex with Scott and she started screaming into the answering machine. Jesus Christ Kerri! She was like…psychotically crying. She was asking if you were hurt, and she sounded nearly suicidal. So I had to pick up the phone, and tell her what was going on. I had to deal with your mental case of a mother for two hours! Needless to say, Scott was not in the mood to continue what we started, after I managed to get off the phone.”

I tried to apologize. Scott is a pre-med, and even though I have a hard time tolerating his eating habits, and the fact that he walks around our apartment in just his boxers, I have to admit that he’s a really dedicated student. If he has a paper to do, or an important exam to study for, he practically lives at the library. I know it’s a rare occasion when Scott and Siobhan have our place to themselves, and I guess with me being gone, it gave them a good opportunity to spend some time together. I felt really bad, and I assured her I would call my parents up and key them in on the situation. But that wasn’t good enough for Sio…

“What are you doing out there Kerri? Your Z100 interview is in three hours, and you’re still at Justin’s. I don’t’ know what the hell happened when you went to see him, but I’m pretty sure you let his manipulative ass con you into staying longer. Am I right?”

I couldn’t lie. Lying to her would have been pointless, because she’d already figured out the truth for herself. “He’s not manipulative. We just…reconnected.” I tried to be convincing but I knew that she wasn’t buying a word I was saying to her. “And I’m going to stay a little while longer, that’s all.”

“Do you realize what you’re doing!” she had yelled. “Do you even know how hard it was for Jason to get you an interview at the radio station? You’ll never get another opportunity like this Kerri. Look, let me call him, and explain the situation. I’m sure they can push your interview up til tomorrow, okay?”

I didn’t hesitate. The only person I was thinking about then, was Justin, and how hurt he would be if I flew back to New York, after I’d already said I would stay. “No, Siobhan,” I refused. “I’m just going to have to let it go.”

“Oh I get it,” she sneered with sarcasm. “You’ll just get psycho Timberlake to get you a job. Nothing like being a freeloader, Kerri. But I guess you learned that from Trace, right?”

It angers me when anybody calls Trace a freeloader, because they don’t realize how much work comes along with the title of “personal assistant”. But Siobhan had known Trace for few years, and I knew that he’d explained his job to her a few times. So when she said that, it angered me…a lot, and I guess I kinda lost it after that. The comments that followed were nothing but a bunch of jumbled curses and cries of ‘I hate you’s’ and ‘You can go to hell’s’. At some point, Trace sat down next to me and took the phone away, because I was too hysterical, and my comments weren‘t making any sense. At the time I was too angry to care, but now that I look back on it all I wish I could have been more rational. By the time Trace had calmed me down enough to get me back on the phone, Siobhan had had enough of my bullshit. I remember the last words she said to me, very clearly. I hear them often in my dreams…and each time I do, they leave me feeling even emptier inside.

“Come back and get all your shit. I want you out, and you better not think that you can come crying to me when he ruins your life again, Kerri.”

Then she hung up. At first I didn’t want to believe she had, because she was my best friend and she was supposed to understand. But the burring of the dial tone in my ear a few moments later, proved that she had. Trace was still sitting next to me, and I looked up at him. He sort of nodded at me, like he knew what happened, and then he pulled me into a hug. I’m glad he was there for me then…

I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.

Trace and I spent the rest of the afternoon assessing the situation. He told me that he didn’t want me to stop going to my classes, but that it was going to be really hard for me to get through the rest of the term with everything that was going on. At first I thought he was being ridiculous. I mean, I needed to graduate if I ever had a hope of getting a job in my field of choice; and I knew that my parents would have a coronary if I decided to drop out of school and stay in Los Angeles. But as always, Trace told me to hear him out.

“Remember how ballistic my parents went, when I dropped out of high school and moved to Florida?”

How could I forget? You could hear Trace’s father yelling from all the way down the block, telling him that he was going to ruin his life, and that if he walked out the door he wasn’t going to be his son anymore. But Trace didn’t care. He hated school, and other than myself, and Nick Grobian; Justin and Trace’s other partner in crime…he didn’t have any other friends. All of his other friends were down in Florida, with Justin. I don’t blame him for wanting to be with them; but I admit, at the time I thought he was making the biggest mistake of his life…

But of course, Justin and Trace proved everybody wrong. Trace moved down to Florida the very next week, leaving me to fend for myself. He called me a few days later, and told me he’d gotten a job at a local pizza place. I was still very much in doubt of his quest, and I told him so…but then he just laughed, and told me that I worried too much. In a years time, he’d saved enough money to go out on tour with Justin, and after another year and a half of living out of a suitcase…Justin had made his first million. Then he made Trace his personal assistant, and neither of them had to worry anymore.

As for me, I was back in Millington, still in high school, wondering if I would do well on my term papers, and if my mother would snap out of her psychotic state of mind long enough to focus on me.

“You just gotta follow your heart,” he’d continued. “If you want to go to school, and finish and shit, then you do that. I’ll tell Justin that you needed to do it. But, if you feel like you need to be with us,” he paused and narrowed his eyes at me. “And I know you do…your more than welcome to stay. Hell, you can probably even go on tour with us Ker. I’m sure Justin isn’t gonna mind, and it’s not like we don’t’ have the extra room.”

I didn’t give him a solid answer right then. I knew I had a lot to think about, and a lot of things to discuss with my parents, and the dean of students before I could move forward. I told Trace all of this, and of course being the awesome friend that he is, he understood and even offered to go back to New York with me and help me get my stuff together; when and if I made the decision to relocate to Los Angeles for good.

My mind was put at ease, but not entirely. I was still concerned about how Justin would feel about me having to go back to New York and sort things out. Trace and I discussed that to, and finally decided it would be best not to tell Justin about my falling out with Siobhan and the fact that I was going to have to try and explain everything to my parents. I was only to tell him the bare minimum, that I had to go back to New York and see about school, and that I might come back to stay for a few months if everything worked out. I felt bad about lying, but I also knew the truth would have been too much for him to handle.

I constantly had to remind myself that Justin was still very unstable, even though when I went to visit Justin at the clinic that evening, he was acting like everything was great…that he was over Shane and Nathan and being raped. It was a front, and I knew that. Justin wanted to seem okay…for me. He didn’t’ want me to worry, but I didn’t want him to act that way. I wanted him to fix himself, before he thought about me or Trace or anybody else. But Justin has always been that way, always putting the people he cared about before himself. It didn’t’ matter what Shane did…as long as I was doing okay, and I was comfortable. I hated that. I hated that I walked out on him when he needed me, but yet he still loved me anyway. I didn’t deserve that kind of treatment from him.

But then again, he walked out on me three years ago, so I guess we’re even now.

“You’ll come back right? You know, when you get a break from school.” Was his response after I informed him of my plans. He seemed so worried, but I reassured him that I was going to be back as soon as I could.

“You’re not telling me everything,” he’d informed me. “There’s more to this.”

I always knew Justin was too smart for his own good. I was sure that he probably did more assessing of Madison than she did of him, and that was a good thing…because it meant that he hadn’t totally gone bonkers on us. If Trace had been sitting next to me then, I probably would have lied to Justin some more and told him that I’d told him everything, and that he didn’t need to worry. But Trace wasn’t there. Ten minutes into our discussion, his phone started to ring. Naturally, it was Elisha wanting to know why he was out visiting Justin so late, and blah blah bullshit. Needless to say, we were alone for a prolonged period of time, and I just…I just couldn’t’ lie to him.

“I need to talk to my parents,” I’d said in a low whisper. “I think I might take a sabbatical from school.”

Justin was silent for a long time after that. I didn’t’ try to pry his thoughts out of him, because I knew how fragile his state of mind was. I let him take his time with his reaction, and just hoped that he wouldn’t feel that I was springing too much information on him at once.

“You can’t just quit school,” he finally said. “You have so much going for you, Kerri. You need to do that…you need to finish.”

His words of encouragement melted my heart, and I wanted nothing more than to do what he was asking. But I knew Trace was right. I knew if I tried to go on, and concentrate on school and pass tests and write term papers I would either end up exhausting myself beyond repair, drinking myself into the hospital, or simply flunking out. The decision to move to Los Angeles was the right one, and I think I’d known that from the very beginning. It was getting the details sorted out that was the major problem. “I’m not quitting,” I’d smiled and taken his hand in mine. “I’m taking control of my life for once, Justin. I just…I haven’t been the same since, well, everything; and right now school just isn’t going to work for me. If the dean cooperates with me, he might let me get my diploma anyway…”

“What if he doesn’t?,” Justin interrupted me, his eyes wide like a curious little boy. “What if you get fucked over, because of me and my stupid shit that I can’t handle?”

The memory of what Justin did to me three years ago, didn’t hesitate to make itself known in the back of my mind. I knew him. I knew that he could sometimes be a coward. I knew that when he was really passionate about something, he often got scared and wanted to quit when things got complicated. Hell, he quit on me after we had sex. He was scared, he couldn’t deal, and he just brushed me to the side like I didn‘t matter to him anymore. I knew it could happen again, but I also knew I didn’t want to be without him. He was helping me deal, and at that moment all I wanted to do was deal. I wanted to sleep too. Sleep without the aid of a bottle of Jack Daniels at my side. My solution was to be with Justin as much as I could, and I left him that night with the reassurance that I was going to be there for him, no matter what. Then I kissed him on the cheek, and although I could feel him cringe a little, he seemed moved by my small show of affection.

I spent most of the next day sitting on Justin’s back deck, trying to take advantage of the warm California sunshine; and debating about when I was going to call my parents, and what I was going to say to them when I did. Unfortunately, my thoughts were constantly being interrupted by the never ending shouting match that Elisha and Trace were having in the house. I tried to tune them out as much as I could, but to no avail. Trace was really really aggravated, and I couldn’t help but listen in on their battle.

I hated to hear him that way…so annoyed and fed up. I didn’t really understand the whole reason they were fighting to begin with. All I knew was that it had to do with ‘commitment‘, and ‘Trace you don’t pay enough attention to me’. I never really hung out with Elisha enough to get to know her, but after spending a little more than a week with her, I was positive that she was nothing more than a whiny, self centered little bitch. I mean, okay…I’m sure she has her good qualities too. Trace doesn’t fall in love very easily. There has to be something about the girl that interests him, and he has a really hard time trusting any girl if she’s befriended Justin beforehand. I know that’s stupid, but I guess its just part of Trace’s whole insecurity issue. He wants his girlfriend to see him for who he is, inside and outside; and not just like him because of who he’s friends with, or what kind of connections he has. Supposedly, Elisha was that girl, but that day I wouldn’t have known it.

Eventually, their yelling died down a little and they started talking in calmer, more rational tones. But they were still standing in the kitchen, which was just feet away from the deck. I could still hear them talking, and I don‘t think they even knew I was out there at that point.

“Baby, you know I love you, and you know, everything such is a fucking mess right now,” he’d said in a defeated tone. “I’m sorry okay? I just need you to bear with me a little while longer. I swear, as soon as J gets back on his feet, it’s just gonna be us. We’ll take a vacation, anywhere you wanna go okay?”

“Yeah, and then you’ll tour, and I’ll film, and we’ll see each other a few times in between. What then Trace? What the hell is the sense of being together if I can’t see you? Just the other day you told me that Justin will probably be touring for the next six or seven months, I can‘t just be in the background anymore baby.”

I wanted to smack her for being so difficult. Trace was trying…he was trying hard. In fact, only a few days ago Elisha had been the one to point out this very fact to me. I couldn’t understand why she was acting the way she was. Supposedly she was friends with Justin, and she was there when he was going through all of that stuff. Surely she could understand why Trace was so distant, and full of concern.

“He’s my best friend, Elisha. You always told me that you understood that, and that you didn’t care if I had to sacrifice some of my time for him once in a while..”

“That was before all of this happened. And you know, in the beginning I figured I could handle it, but now I just…I don’t think I can okay? I’m tired of fighting for your attention Trace. I’m your fiancé and I shouldn’t have to,” she’d explained.

“So what then? What are you saying Elisha, what the hell do you want?” I heard a crash, and I was pretty sure it was the sound of a bottle breaking. “Do you want to fucking leave me?” he’d hollered, and I was sure I could hear him sobbing. “Will that make you fucking happy?”

Then…silence. I didn’t know what happened, and I started to wonder who might have walked away from who; but when I glanced over my shoulder to see what was going on, my mouth hung open in surprise. They were holding each other, and kissing, and crying. They loved each other, and it became apparent to me that a lot of my assumptions about Elisha were wrong. She really wasn’t the heinous bitch I‘d made her out to be, she was simply trying to prevent her relationship from falling apart. I decided then, that the best thing for me to do would be to call my parents and fly to New York. Not only would it give me a jumpstart on getting my mind made up, but it would also allow Trace some much needed alone time with his girlfriend.

Trying to kill two birds with one stone, I called my parents on the way to the airport. I’d been leery about making phone calls while driving, since my near brush with death the day I originally left for New York. Somehow though, Trace had convinced me to take a limousine to the airport (even though I was normally very against the idea), so I figured I should used my free time wisely. When my father answered, I was a little relieved. I knew if it had been my mother, I wouldn’t have been able to get a word in, and that would have only caused more chaos. He seemed surprisingly calm for a man who’d just received his word that his daughter had abandoned school and flew across the country to see a friend. But I was still sure the conversation wasn’t going to go very smoothly.

“Kerrigan,” he’d said in that calm, rational tone he always uses with me. “You nearly gave your mother a heart attack, pulling that stunt. I can understand your concern for Justin, but really Kerri…just packing up and flying out to Los Angeles? I know you have more sense than that.”

“Justin needed me,” I explained. “So I didn’t think, Dad; I just did what I thought was right.”

“School is more important than anything else you have going on,” he said firmly. “It’s your senior year, and you need to sit down and consider your options. Now, you know I have no problem with you doing what you want to do with your degree. But you better do something with it, Kerrigan. Your mother and I didn’t work our whole lives to send you to that fancy college, just so you could drop everything for Justin. It’s time that you started worrying about yourself, and your own life.”

I was silent for a moment. “Justin is a part of my life, dad. And in case you‘ve so suddenly forgotten, he was in that place with me…”

But of course my father didn’t’ want to talk about that. He never does. It’s like he’s afraid to get into what I went through, like it’s going to hurt him to hear how much shit I had to deal with in that house. It makes me want to hate him sometimes, but I can’t hate him. He’s my father, my daddy…and I’ll always have a special place for him in my heart. But that day…that day I didn’t care what he had to say. My mind was made up, and it probably had been since the previous day. I guess I was just calling him to finalize it all. But he wasn’t’ happy with that, not at all.

“This nonsense with that rock star friend of yours has gone on long enough, Kerrigan,” he conveniently interrupted me. “There are more important things in life. Your mother is frantic, and I’m very disappointed that you would let us down like this, after all we’ve done for you. I want you to return to New York, and focus on your studies,” he ordered me. “End of discussion.”

Maybe if I was nineteen and naïve I would have listened to him. But I wasn’t nineteen, I was twenty three and perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I felt very strongly that I needed to be where Justin was, if I had any hope of living a normal life again. And there was no doubt in my mind that he needed me too. “I can’t focus when my mind is elsewhere,” I informed him. “I’m going back to New York to talk to the dean, and I’m going to try and get a sabbatical or something.”

“You do that and you can forget about coming home for awhile,” he warned me. “I won’t put your mother through that at the holidays. You know how she feels about upsetting Mary, and you know she’s always in a delicate state of mind…”

“Right,” I interrupted harshly. “Think about everybody else’s feelings before mine, like you always do. I can’t argue with you, because you just don’t get it. Dad, I had a gun held to my head okay? I’m not the same straight A student I was before that all happened. I’ve changed, and I think the only one who hasn’t gotten that through his head is you!”

Then he was silent again.

And I hung up.

Things couldn’t have gone worse between my father and I, but I didn’t want to worry about it too much. No matter what happened, I knew I had somewhere to go. I knew Justin and Trace cared about me, and would welcome me back with open arms. And so, for the duration of my trip back to the city, all I focused my mind on was how I would present my story to the dean when it came time to face him, and whether or not Siobhan had thrown all of my personal belongings out the window of the apartment.

Surprisingly enough, Siobhan didn’t start screaming at me when I walked in the door later that evening. She and Scott were sitting on the sofa, watching some movie that I can’t remember the name of right now. She said ‘hi’, and I sort of grunted, and went into my room, making sure to close and lock the door behind me. The first thing I did was try to call Trace, but he didn’t answer. It didn’t discourage me however. Before I left, he’d warned me that he might be ‘preoccupied’ if I tried to call when I got into the city, and if that was the case I should call the next day. Yeah, I guess he got that ‘quality time’ in with Elisha after all. So, after downing a mini bottle of Jack Daniels that I’d bought on the plane, I managed to get to sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for once, and I was thankful. I rose with the sun that morning, feeling refreshed and awake for the first time in months.

A lot of the students on campus say that Dean Walters is the biggest asshole in the world. I heard one story where he kicked a student out of school for simply using the wrong kind of number 2 pencil on their final exams, but I found that quite hard to believe. Still, the rumors stuck with me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous when I stopped by his office later that afternoon. Even his secretary seemed cold, and unforgiving.

“The dean is extraordinarily busy,” she informed me coldly. “You’ll have to make an appointment, and leave it in that pile there.” She didn’t look up from her paper work as she motioned to a overflowing bin of paper work at the far corner of her desk. I took one look at it and frowned. I knew that by the time she penciled me in, the semester would be over.

So I took the next step.

“Please, Miss…Baxter,” I read her name off of the gold sign that rested at the edge of her desk. “I wouldn’t’ be here if this wasn’t important.”

She laughed at me. “That’s what they all say.”

I sighed in defeat, and it was one of the only times I actually considered calling Madison to get me out of a predicament. I still didn’t trust her, but I was pretty sure that she could put her powers to work and get me in there. I remember reaching for my cell phone, but then the door to the dean’s office opened, and who should walk out but Dean Walters himself.

“I’m out to lunch, Grace,” he’d said, while nonchalantly strolling past me. He didn’t’ give me a second look either, and I knew that if I didn’t think fast and say something, I was going to end up leaving NYU without a diploma to my name.

“Dean Walters!” I called to him. Of course, being the dean of students, he was probably used to that sort of thing, and it didn’t surprise me when he pretended not to hear me. But I didn’t’ give up. I followed him out the door and down the hallway. “Dean…just wait one minute, please,” I pleaded.

He sighed, and turned to face me after a moment. “What is it? Is it an extension? Because I don’t’ give extensions, young lady. If you can’t handle the materials given to you, get a tutor.”

“No, it’s not that,” I laughed nervously and tried to smile, but when his stern expression didn’t’ change, it caused my laughter to cease. “I just…I was interested in talking to you about getting a sabbatical. Some things have kind of well, caught up with me, and I don’t think I can finish the semester.”

“Some things have caught up with you?” he chuckled. “Let me guess; you’ve been partying too hard with your sorority and you can’t find time to study, so you want to get out of your obligations the easy way?

I gave him a dumb look. “I’m not in a sorority, sir.”

“This isn’t high school,” he grunted, and pointed a finger at me. “This is the real world young lady, and in the real world you have to work for the things you want in life. I don’t give sabbaticals or pardons or anything of the sort, unless it comes down to a personal family situation. And I’m sure there is nothing like that going on with you.”

I hated making the dean feel stupid, but I didn’t feel I had a choice. He’d jumped to conclusions with me, when he’d never laid eyes on me before. So with Trace’s words of wisdom in the back of my mind, telling me to go with what my heart was telling me, I finally told him exactly what was on my mind. “Actually sir, you’re wrong,” I’d nodded. “That’s exactly what’s going on with me.”

He sent me a blank stare; like I had a hell of a nerve coming to his office, and telling him that he was wrong. “What’s your name?” he’d asked me, not hesitating to send me an annoyed glare at the same time.

His words penetrated me like daggers, but I tried to remain calm when I answered his question. “Kerri Donovan.”

He cupped his chin in his hand, and his brow had furrowed in thought. “Your name sounds familiar,” he’d said. “Didn’t I read about you in the papers?”

I shrugged. “You might have.” I could have told him who I was right then, but I felt weird just blurting it out. The kidnapping was, and still is a very delicate subject for me. It’s hard enough for me to talk about it with the people I love, let alone a stranger.

“I only get a limited amount of free time throughout the course of the day, and I hate to miss lunch,” he informed me.

My heart sank. It was apparent to me that his stomach was more important than my future. I was convinced the rumors I’d heard about the dean were true, and I was ready to tell him thanks for nothing and submit my appointment request in that ridiculous pile of papers. But then he said…

“Are you hungry, Ms. Donovan?”

I was, but the dean was a very intimidating man. I was sure if I did go to lunch with him, I wouldn’t have much of an appetite; and then he would have yelled at me for wasting food. “I don’t think I could stomach much right now,” I’d admitted.

“Well, so much for Leo Lindy’s,” he muttered. “Come, we’ll discuss this in my office. I can have something delivered.”

After allowing Dean Walters to order his lunch (a roast beef sandwich on rye, crusts cut off, extra lettuce, light mayo, no tomato), I started to explain myself. At the mention of Justin’s name, he realized who I was, and told me he wished I had come to him at the beginning of the semester and told him about my situation. I explained that I didn’t think I would need to leave school at the beginning of the semester, and that I’d only realized that I was needed out in California, recently. It didn’t’ matter though. The dean was more than willing to do whatever he could to help me out.

I realized that he wasn’t such a cold hearted man after all…he was just tired of students coming to him and trying to get out of school for stupid reasons. He told me he would do more than grant my sabbatical. He would wave the rest of my credits and give me a diploma in June--no questions asked. I was so thankful, I felt like crying. It was the first positive thing that had happened since I’d gotten off the phone with my father. With the dean’s pardon, I knew everything was going to be okay. I would be able to return to Los Angeles, nearly worry free. I’d be able to focus on Justin’s issues, as well as my own…and hopefully regain the bond we’d always shared.

As for Trace, I want to help him out as much as I can. I know making plans for a tour is a hectic process, and since Justin is flying solo, it means a lot more work for everybody involved. I’m kind of excited though. I’ve never seen Justin’s album at work, and I’ve been curious as to how he’s been handling being on stage without his four other band members along side him.

“Do you need this ceramic monkey?” Trace holds Gwen up in the air and shakes his head in amusement. “What the fuck is this Kerri?”

"Hey," I pout and snatch her away from him. "That’s not just an ordinary monkey. That's Gwen and she has feelings." I hold her close to me and pet her a little, before placing her in the cardboard box I’ve been putting random things into.

“It‘s no wonder that you and Justin click better together.” Trace laughs out loud, and starts to take more objects off of my bookshelf. “You’re both whacked.”

Trace flew out yesterday, to help me pack my things, and to help me get rid of the stuff that I don’t need. Our mission hasn’t been very successful. I’ve packed up more than half of my stuff; most of it being things I don’t necessarily need to live my life, just things that hold sentimental value, like Gwen. Gwen is the dorm monkey. Siobhan and I won her at a street festival in Soho two years ago, and even though we knew it was the cheesiest prize somebody could win for tossing five balls into a hole in the wall; we decided that it was a fun little trinket anyway. We named her Gwen because…well, I don’t really know why, we just thought it was a cute name I guess. When we lived in the dorm, Gwen stayed by the door, and wished us a hello every morning and a welcome back in the afternoon. When Scott first laid eyes on her, he laughed, and when we told her how we’d won her and what we’d named her, I thought he was going to pee his pants. Scott dubbed her the official dorm monkey, and for awhile she had a little sign taped to her that said Don’t feed the dorm monkey.

Siobhan and I had a lot of crazy times like that one during our time together. After Justin left me, Siobhan was the only one who I could trust to confide in about it, besides Trace. She’s brought out the best in me over the past three years, and now…it’s like none of that matters anymore. We’re still not on speaking terms. This morning before Trace came over to help me pack, she grunted something about getting breakfast and that she’d be back in time to see me on my way. “Leave your house key by the microwave if you end up leaving early,” she’d reminded me. Then she walked out, the door slammed, and I knew our friendship was basically non existent.

It’s so weird. I’m gaining a friend in Justin again, but at the same time I’m losing Siobhan. It’s like some kind of fucked up trade off, and I really hate that things have to be this way, but there’s nothing I can do. Siobhan doesn’t understand why I’m leaving like this, and nothing I can say is going to make her see that what I’m doing is right. I know the best thing to do is just move on and try not to think about everything I’m leaving behind for Justin…but it’s really hard. Three years of friendship with Siobhan isn’t going to fade away over night, and I know that.

“Girl, you have so much shit,” Trace crouches down and looks under my bed. “We aren’t taking this bedding, or this extra quilt thing under here. Justin has enough of that stuff at his house to last time for the next thirty years.”

“But that’s my favorite quilt!” I half whine, half laugh. I turn around, and open the top dresser drawer so I can start stuffing my suitcase with my clothes.

“Fine, fine, take the quilt; but the rest of it is going to Goodwill or something,” he huffs. I hear him grunt as he struggles to pull the quilt out from under the bed. “Damn, what the hell? It’s like caught or something.”

I sigh and turn around again. “There’s a lot of garbage under there,” I laugh. “You can leave it if you want to.”

“Hell no.” He stops pulling on it for a moment, and takes a deep breath before looking up at me. “I’m not going to listen you bitch on the plane about how you miss your blankie or whatever.” He rolls his eyes, and starts to yank on it again.

“My granny made it,” I pout.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I smile, and start to turn back to my clothes, but then I hear something roll across the floor…and it’s definitely not my quilt. I glance over my shoulder, and immediately the panic starts to set in. Two empty liquor bottles just rolled out from under my bed. Shit…I forgot all about them. There’s more too, I know there are. I didn’t want Siobhan to notice how much alcohol I was taking in, so I hid the bottles under my bed. How could I forget that? How could I let my guard down so damn easily? Make him stop, Kerri!, my mind screams at me when Trace pulls a few more bottles out from under my bed. “Damn, Scott must have been drinking with his buddies again,” I say pathetically. I race around to the other side of the bed where Trace is crouched, and begin to gather up the few bottles that have reemerged from under the bed.

“What is this?” Trace asks me finally.

I shrug quickly, and hug the three bottles in my arms close to my chest. “Just leftover junk from a few parties we’ve had here.”

He stares at me, and pulls the rest of the quilt out from under the bed. There are two more bottles on top of it, and I’m sure he knows that I’m full of shit. He glances at them, and looks back at me. “You guys have that many parties here?”

I nod stupidly.

He gets up from the ground, and takes a couple of bottles along with him. “You didn’t drink all of this by yourself did you?”

I manage to laugh at him, but I know it sounds forced. “Of course not,” I roll my eyes and walk out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I can hear Trace plodding along behind me, and I know he’s going to try and get the truth out of me. But I’m not ready to admit I have a problem. I mean, I don’t really have one. I just…I can’t sleep, and the liquor helps a lot. I can control it, I’m not some kind of chemical dependent reject or anything. I reach the garbage can and toss the bottles away, before turning to face him again. “I’m not stupid, Trace.”

“Why was all of this in your room…under your bed, if you didn’t drink it?” he questions, before throwing the bottles in his hands into the trash.

“I told you, they were leftover….”

“That’s total bullshit, and you know it,” he interrupts me. He places his hands on his hips, and shakes his head. “I knew it. I knew there was something wrong with you when you guzzled down all that whisky the day we hung out and played cards.”

I frown. “You know, this hasn’t been an easy week for me. I would appreciate it if you would stop giving me the third degree, Trace. I’ve never lied to you before, so what sense would it make for me to start now?”

“It’s hard to admit when you have a problem,” he informs me. “Believe me, I know. I had to catch Justin in the act to get him to admit there was something wrong with him.”

“Well I don’t have a fucking problem,” I snap. “We had a few parties, that‘s all. Everybody was drinking, and some of the stuff wound up in my bedroom. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

He chuckles in defeat and pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Fine,” he huffs. “You don’t have a problem. You’re perfectly fine. You went through all that shit, and none of it affected you at all…I don‘t know what I was thinking, and I sincerely apologize. Come on, lets get the rest of your shit and get out of here. I told Justin we‘d be back tonight, you know?” He turns on his heel and storms back into my bedroom. “Oh look! I found more bottles under the bed!” he calls out after a moment. “Hey, I bet Siobhan can make a few bucks off of this. Should we leave her a note?”

I feel the tears begin to well up behind my eye lids. “Your fucking sarcasm isn’t appreciated!” I yell.

Silence.

I kick the garbage can out of frustration, and I can hear my empty liquor bottles clinking together inside…mocking me. I prop my elbows up on the kitchen island, and cover my face with my hands. I’m so pissed at myself. How could I be so unprepared? Was Justin this unprepared when Trace found out about his cutting? Did he try to make up some lame ass excuse as to why he was bleeding all over the place? I’m sure he did, but obviously it didn’t work…because he told Trace everything, and then he ended up in that place…

I don’t want to go into any kind of ‘place’.

Okay, okay…so maybe I do have a problem. It’s just so embarrassing. I mean really, who drinks themselves to sleep? Jesus, I must be some sort of freak. My face is burning, and I feel myself start to give into my emotions. I sniffle, and then I start to sob quietly. I sink down to the floor, and lean my back against the kitchen island. I take deep, even breaths and try to make myself stop crying…but I can’t. I want to…I don’t want Trace to know about this. I want him to focus on Justin. Justin is the one who needs all the attention right now…not me…I’m a strong girl…I can handle everything on my own. I wasn’t the one who was raped, and I wasn’t the one who was cutting myself. My problems are irrelevant at this point…

They always have been.

“Are you ready to talk to me?”

I hear Trace’s voice, and I groan softly. I sniffle, and push the hair out of my face before I look up at him. “No,” I sob.

He sighs, and sits down beside me on the floor. “All right.”

I lean my head on his shoulder, and close my eyes. A moment later I feel him put his arm around me, and I feel a sense of comfort take over me. I feel loved. “I’m sorry.” I whisper. I don’t know why I’m apologizing. I guess for lying to him, even though I won’t admit that I lied about my drinking. I’m sure he knows that I did anyway. He’s just waiting for me to admit that I have a problem. But I won’t. I’m too stubborn I guess. Or just afraid of what might happen if I do.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says after a moment. “You just…do what you need to do right now. If you don’t want to talk about this I’m not going to force you to, Kerri. But please know, that I am worried about you. I don’t want to see something bad happen to you, okay? I mean, I know that Justin isn‘t the only one that‘s having a hard time dealing with everything. You don‘t have to battle all of this by yourself. ”

I open my eyes, and bite down on my bottom lip. “Justin has a lot more to deal with than I do,” I finally manage to croak out. “There’s no reason for me to drag all of my problems into this right now. It can wait.”

He reaches out and wipes the tears off of my face, and smoothes my hair back behind my ears. “You both went through it together,” he reminds me. “Granted, Justin got put through a lot of physical torture…but that doesn’t’ mean that your problems and your feelings come second to his. If you have a problem…you have a problem, Ker. And I want to help you through it okay?”

I look at the floor. “I’m not ready,” I say to him. “I just…I don’t think I’m ready to deal with what’s going on with me yet.”

“And that’s okay,” he reassures me.

“Yeah?”

He curls his finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. “Of course,” he nods and smiles a little. “Just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.”

I know I can’t really promise him anything. Sleeping is still going to be an issue for me no matter what I do or where I go. With the tour approaching, I know I’ll need my rest too. But still, I smile a little and fake a reassuring tone so Trace won‘t worry so much. “I will,” I say. “I promise.”

He pecks me on the forehead and tells me to come help him finish packing. I follow obediently, and in the span of an hour and a half, the rest of my essential belongings have been packed. It’s time to leave now. Time to move on, time to face everything again. But I’m still very unsure of myself. I’m going to be living under the same roof as Justin, Trace, and Elisha. What will it be like? Will Justin be freaked out all the time? Will he talk to me, or will he hide from me? Will Elisha continue to hate my guts, or will she finally understand that I belong at the house just as much as she does? And Trace…he’ll still be in the middle; the calm center of the storm. What can I do to make him feel appreciated? There’s so many questions, but very few answers. I’m still uncertain that this will all work out. But I guess that’s the chance I’ll have to take if I want to get my life back.

There’s no time to turn back now.

Sometimes I can feel it in my hand. Like, late at night when I’m alone; or when I can sleep, in my dreams. It’s always cold, and smooth, and I feel safe as long as I’m holding it. Guns give you power, they give you power, no matter how weak or tortured you are (I learned that quickly, once I’d had the pleasure of having one shoved into the side of my head). They protect you, and they ward off any evil that might be lingering near bye. The vision of what I did with Nathan’s gun constantly replays itself in my mind. A split second, that’s all it took for me to kill him. I killed him, and then I killed Shane…like it didn’t even matter. I took two lives. Were they innocent lives? No…but they were still lives. I stooped to their level. I became weaker than I’d ever been, and I let the gun take control of me. It told me how to get out, it told me how I could get us both out of that house alive.. It said ‘All you have to do is pull the trigger, Justin’, and I did. I can still hear the gunshots echoing in the back of my mind; like two loud claps of thunder in the night. I hear them in my dreams too, and I wake up cold and sweaty. Cam used to be there to help me get back to sleep but now, I’m alone…because of what I did to her. I want to hide from the visions and the sounds; I want to forget about them. I want to forget about the look of fear and shock on Nathan’s face before I shot him, and I want to forget about Shane’s sick fucking smile…

But I just can’t.

My mom was contacted about what Doug did to me, shortly after Kerri and Trace went back to my house for the evening. Needless to say, she was furious and to prove it she flew out to see me the very next day. I wasn’t’ present for the conversation she had with Madison, but I’m almost positive that it wasn’t a very heart warming one. Madison didn’t really go into what their conversation entailed though. She was more concerned about how I was holding up, and how things went between Kerri and I. I was still a mess from what happened with Doug, but as always, I didn’t admit that to her. I simply told her that I was holding up okay, and went on to tell her about how Kerri and I rekindled our friendship.

Madison seemed pleased to hear my news, and then she told me I was ready for the next step in my rehabilitation; I was going to be going home in a week. I was a little surprised, as it would have only been twenty days into my program when that time came. I pointed this out to her, but she said that I didn’t have to worry. Madison told me I would still be seeing her on a weekly basis, but felt I had come a long way since I checked into the clinic, and that there was really no point in confining me any longer. It made me feel good to know I would soon be back in the real world, with my friends and family. But then I looked into Madison’s eyes again, and something told me that she wasn’t being totally honest with me. It was like she knew I wasn’t’ ready to leave, but she didn’t’ have a choice in the matter. Now I’m smarter though. I know my mother’s conversation had a lot to do with Madison’s decision. It makes me upset, because it wasn’t Madison’s fault that Doug did what he did. Actually, it’s nobodies fault but my own. I knew what he was like, but I was too much of a coward to tell Madison about it, and then it was too late.

Sometimes I think that I might have wanted Doug to touch me. You know like, because I’m gay and stuff. I really don’t know though. This whole sexuality thing still confuses me. I try to look at girls, but then I stop myself because I don’t want to be looking at them if I’m a fag...I don’t want to insult anybody. Then sometimes…I’ll try to look at guys, but then I get really nauseated. They don’t turn me on. I’m even scared of looking at them most of the time. It could be that I’m scared of looking at guys because I’m scared of finding out the truth, but I don’t want to admit anything to myself yet. No…not just yet. I still have time to figure out what the hell I am, and what the hell I‘m going to do. Even though…I’m almost sure that I’m same sex oriented at this point. Like, first Shane, and then Doug? That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to straight guys. I’m a gay magnet, which means that I must be gay.

The Butt Sex Erection proves my point as well.

I don’t know, maybe leaving the clinic early was the best thing for me. I think I was starting to rely too much on Madison anyway, and in order to live my life the way I want and need to, I need to be as independent as I possibly can be. Still, even with these thoughts in mind, I still couldn’t help but be nervous as I waited for my last day at Orange Valley Psychiatric to arrive. I didn’t know how I would handle being on the outside again. It was like…I didn’t’ know it anymore. I was so used to routine; so used to schedules and sessions and therapy that going back to a normal lifestyle almost scared me. I felt selfish at times, because I knew what I was going back to. I was going back to my big ass house in the Hollywood Hills. Back to fame, back to stardom, back to screaming fans and girls wanting me. I’m sure any of my fellow patients would have gladly traded places with me. Hell, if the option was open, I might have even let them.

But it was my life, and I knew I had to face it. Madison did a great job preparing me for my return home. We had a lot of talks about how to battle anxiety; something we both knew I would have to deal with once I returned to the public eye. I guess it helped, but I don’t really know. I mean, I haven’t been out anywhere since I got home, even though everybody has been trying to get me to liven up a little and do something with myself. I can’t though. I mean, I hate to admit it, but ever since the kidnapping, I’ve been terrified of facing people I don’t know. I keep thinking that everybody is out to get me, and that I have to hide out because it’s the only way to protect myself from whatever terrible things are out there. I feel stupid, and I also feel like I wasted Madsion’s time. All that time she spent preparing me, and all I can do is sit in my house like a little coward?

“Damn.” I roughly slap the journal closed. I’ve just aggravated myself again, so I’ll stop writing and try to calm down. I sit back against the large oak tree, and gaze up into it’s branches. I love looking at them. They’re so big and strong…they shelter me, and when I sit here I often feel protected, like nothing can harm me. It’s funny, I didn’t even know this tree was here until I returned home, and I’ve been living here for a good eight months now. I guess I was just too involved with my career to take the time to notice it. It’s a great spot though. It helps me to think, and get my thoughts down in my journal. Madison’s List says it’s important that I make enough time to write in my journal every day, and if I can I should try to write an afternoon entry and an entry right before I go to sleep. But really, I don’t see the point in writing two entries a day. I mean, how much can happen between the afternoon and the evening? I think Madison is trying to keep me from burying everything inside of me again…but I really don’t’ want to think about Shane and fucking sex all day every day. It gets tiring, and it fucks with my head too much. I’d rather just watch tv, or go downstairs and shoot pool, or play basketball. Anything is better than thinking about that bastard.

Leaving the clinic was a very awkward experience for me. I remember Trace and I spent the morning packing my bags, while my mother conversed with Madison for awhile. Strangely, my mind was a lot clearer than it had been in awhile. Like, I started to see things a lot differently than I had before. In fact, the first thing I noticed was how drastically Trace’s attitude had changed. He was really nervous, fidgety; unlike anything I’d seen in the past. He was just talking and talking and talking…about nothing. It was like he felt he had to say something, because if he didn’t something bad would happen. Now, I don’t know if he’s been doing this all along, or if it’s just a recent thing. I don’t remember being able to focus on anything for a prolonged period of time, before I went to the clinic though…so I think Trace might have been acting like this all along. I asked him if he was nervous, and then he just let out a nervous laugh and said ‘No, of course not, why do you ask? I’m fine, just tired. You know, you need some food…and juice and shit…Oh and there's this new demo that Marty got from this guy...”

And he just rambled on, and on and on. So I gave up trying to figure him out, reasoning I had more important things to focus on that day anyway. I know Trace was just nervous because I was coming home, and he wanted everything to be as normal for me as it could be, I guess. That’s the kind of friend he is. Although, he’s been acting the very same way since I came home; always nervous, always jumpy, always afraid to do or say the wrong thing in front of me. I’m sort of confused about it…but I guess everything that happened is still having an impact on him. He has a job to do too…planning my tour and shit. I guess that would make anybody edgy. But he’s going to Barbados with Elisha next week, and I’m sure he’ll get to unwind then. At least I know his trip won’t be anything like Hawaii was, that’s for sure.

After my things were packed, and I’d finished getting showered and dressed, there was really nothing left for me to do but be on my way. I remember standing in front of the mirror for a few extra moments that day, taking myself in. I was wearing regular clothes and I felt almost normal, almost like myself. Definitely nothing like a person who had been sitting in a psychiatric clinic for three weeks. I realized it was the first small step in the long road to my recovery. But I knew that I still had a long way to go before I could even think about being the same independent person I’d once been.

Trace and my mother went to the car ahead of me, so that I could say goodbye to Madison privately, even though I know my mother would have rather stuck around to hear everything if things had gone her way. I figured being alone with Madison was probably a good thing though, and that I should probably get anything that was burdening me off of my chest before I left, as it would be an entire week before I would see her again. I spoke quickly, nervously. I was trying to get everything out at once, and I guess I was confusing Madison more than I thought, because once we reached the doors she gripped me by the shoulders and told me to calm down and take a deep breath.

“You’re nervous.” She’d nodded, and fixed one of the sleeves on my t-shirt. “And that’s understandable, but Justin…I’m only a phone call away okay? I gave Trace my home phone number and my cell number as well. You can call me anytime, day or night.”

This should have reassured me, but it didn’t. I guess I was just overwhelmed by everything that was going on that day; that I was going home, that I was going to be facing the people that didn’t know the truth about what happened to me. That I was going to be living with Kerri…yeah, that was a whole other situation in itself. One that I wouldn’t be able to focus on until much later on. I finally realized I wasn’t just nervous, I was terrified, and I think if I was bolder I would have tried to beat up an orderly so I would be forced to stay in that place. But I wasn’t bold. I was just a wimp who couldn’t get his act together and face what happened to him. And what did I do to handle all the stress building up inside of me?

That’s right. I cried, right there by the front doors. I cried, like the little faggot I am, and I couldn’t stop. Madison hugged me, and repeatedly reassured me that everything was going to be okay, using the same tone that coaxed me out of the shower stall the day Walter‘s strip search freaked me out. But that day, her tone couldn’t reassure me the way it had before. I didn’t know what was going to happen once I got home, and I was terrified of how much my home environment and the outside world had changed since I’d been gone. What did my friends think of me now? How was my mom handling things behind closed doors? How did Kerri feel being in my house without me? And Trace, how the hell was he keeping himself together under all the pressure? I didn’t have any answers, and I think that was a big part of the reason I was so scared to begin with.

But more so, I was really worried about how the world viewed me as a person since the kidnapping. I knew I still had my fans, I’ll always have my fans; but I didn’t want them to know what Shane had turned me into. I was still very insecure about that, and I still am. I mean, during the interviews I did regarding the kidnapping, I barely hinted at what I’d been through. I told the reporters the bare minimum; that we were kidnapped for ransom , that it was horrible, and how all I wanted to do was get back to my career, and focus on moving on with my life. I know my interviews were hardly enough for the press though. They want more…much more. They want details, they want a graphic depiction of everything that happened. They want Kerri. They want to bring her into to it…they want to harass her and question her. Not only about what happened, but about the friendship she’s shared with me since we were kids. I won’t let that happen though. I’ll never ever make her go through it. She doesn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve to be forced into my kidnapping either. I figure the best gift I can give her right now is privacy. Hell, one of us deserves it.

From what my mom has told me, Johnny’s phone still won’t stop ringing. Thankfully, the news about my rehab hasn’t leaked, but that doesn’t’ mean the press doesn’t want more statements and interviews from me. All the big talk shows are still interested in hearing about what happened. They want to book me so I can ‘discuss my feelings’ with them. Sixty Minutes and Oprah want me to do sit downs with them. But I don’t want to fucking talk about any of this with them. It’s none of their damn business. If it had happened to them, if they were kidnapped and had Butt Sex, I wouldn’t go bugging them to retell their story.

Why can’t I ever just be left alone?

“Don’t make me go,” I remember sobbing the words into Madison‘s shoulder, and clinging to her like a small child would have. I knew I looked like a fucking fool, but I didn’t care. I was so scared…so weak. I just wanted to hide from everything again, even though I knew that wasn’t going to help me get better. “I want to stay,” I’d blubbered. “Tell them something is wrong with me. Tell them I’m a psycho. I’ll do anything Mad, please.”

“Justin, come on now. You know I can’t do that,” Madison chuckled lightly. Then she gave me one last reassuring squeeze, and pulled away from me. For the first time ever I saw tears in her eyes. She wouldn’t admit it to me then, and she never will; but I know she was scared for me. But she was powerless when it came to keeping me in the clinic. I checked myself in voluntarily, and she’d already signed the statement saying that I was stable enough to go back home. There was no choice. I was going home, and I had to deal with it.

“I’ll see you in a week.” It was the last thing she said to me before she turned and retreated down the hallway. I was left standing at the door, and I watched her until she disappeared around a corner. Eventually, I was able to pull myself together, but I was still more confused than I’d been in awhile. Part of me wanted to follow her, but I knew I couldn’t’ do that. Trace and momma were waiting for me…they were fully expecting me to walk out of the clinic and back into the reality that was my life. So was Kerri, so were the guys…so was everybody else that was involved with me, my life, and my career. So I did. I did it for them. And right now, I wish like hell I hadn’t. The days that followed would prove to me how unstable I really am, and that I’m definitely not ready to go back to my hectic, overwhelming lifestyle.

The entire car ride back to my house, was an intense, nerve-racking experience for me. I wasn’t used to being in a car, as I hadn’t been outside the clinic since I was checked into it. Every sharp turn we made, caused my stomach to do flip flops, and every red light we paused at caused me to sink lower in my seat. I was terrified of being seen by somebody. I didn’t want anybody talking to me, or trying to touch me. I just wanted to be left alone. I could tell Trace and momma were worried about my state of mind too, because they seemed to be taking turns asking if I was okay. At first I responded to their questions with ‘I’m fine,’ but after forty five minutes of answering the same questions over and over I got fed up. I curled up next to the door and closed my eyes. I pretended to fall asleep, and they bought it, even though I never ended up falling asleep. It gave me some insight though. I could hear everything they were discussing. It was mostly stuff I already knew about. Like, Trace told my mom about Madison’s List and what he was going to have to do with me every day to help me get better.

I’d read over the List a little bit during my last session with Madison, and even though I didn’t agree with most of the stuff she‘d put on it, I knew it was for my own good. I don’t know, I guess a lot of it made me feel like I was a little kid who had to be under constant supervision. My house had to be ‘Justin proofed’, meaning all the locks had to be taken off the doors in case I went psycho and tried to lock myself in a room. All sharp objects that I could have used to injure myself with had be locked away where I couldn’t get to them. Trace did it, and he went to extremes too. All of my awards and trophies and shit were put into this big ass case. I can’t touch them without his supervision. That pissed me off most of all. I mean I’m not that psycho. I wouldn’t snap my moon man in half to cut myself. I told him that, but he just shook his head and said that “if it’s sharp it’s going away.” I didn’t blow up at him, because I knew he’d busted his ass to get my house fixed before I arrived home…but still, it just…it just made me feel like I had no freedom.

But that was only the beginning.

The List says I’m not allowed to drink soda out of the can. But it doesn’t matter, because we don’t even buy cans anymore, we just have bottles. Really, I shouldn’t be drinking soda anyway because it’s bad for my diet and I have to be in shape for the VMA’s…but Trace gives me a little slack. I can have diet…diet won’t hurt me that much, so long as I don‘t drink too much of it. The soda can thing doesn’t really annoy me that much though. It’s the other things that really get on my nerves. Like, I have to use plastic silver ware, paper cups, and paper plates. I can’t use scissors, paper cutters, box cutters, razor blades, or pencil sharpeners. Trace lets me have paper and pens, but that’s only after I promise him I’ll come to my senses and tell him if I feel like I want to give myself paper cuts or try to stab myself with my pen or some stupid shit.

I can’t even open a can of Spaghettio’s without telling Trace about it first. Actually, I can’t even cook for myself without somebody looming over me…so I don’t do it anymore. It’s not worth it, because I get nervous when people are up my ass like that, and I end up fucking things up. My mom‘s been cooking mostly, Trace too, and we get take out a lot. I microwave too; like Hot Pockets, and those kick ass pizza bites. I’m getting used to all of this I guess. I’ve learned how to live without a lot of things. What scares me is I know the time will come when Trace won’t really be able to watch me twenty four seven. Yeah, he’ll be my personal assistant, but with all the work he has to do I don’t see how he’ll have the time to worry about my mental state. We’ll be on tour, and everything that I’m prohibited from using right now, will be within my reach. I hope I’ll have calmed down more by then. I hope I don’t have bad dreams about Shane and become weak and vulnerable again. I hope I can be level headed, independent. But I don’t see how I can do a complete one eighty in such a short time.

Trace has taken Walter’s place as well. He wakes me up in the morning, and let’s me get myself together before he hands me my coffee. Madison suggested that I shouldn’t be allowed to have caffeine, but Trace knows better. I’m hellish in the morning if I don’t have my coffee. It was different in the clinic, because I knew I had to abide by the rules or else Walter would have forced me to. But now I’m home. I’m home and I’ll drink a gallon of coffee every day if I want to. I’m really glad Trace understands that…but he always has. Hell, he’s a coffee freak too. So, every morning we sit in my bedroom and watch Al Roker, and drink our coffees. This week my flavor of choice is Starbucks Mocha Bean. Kerri went and picked it out while I was at the clinic because she knows how much I love my coffee, and that I love to try new flavors.

After coffee, we go into the bathroom. It’s just as before. I have to strip down to my boxers, and Trace has to examine me. Initially, the idea that Trace would have to see me that way scared the crap out of me. But after I’d discussed my feelings with Madison, I realized I could trust Trace to do the job; because he was the one who had discovered I’d been cutting myself in the first place. Madison showed him the proper way to check my body before I came home too; and it makes me feel more secure that he knows what he’s doing. I know my cuts still pain him though. Every morning I see the same worried expression on his face that he had that night on the beach. But it‘s not like I can blame him. I mean, I know what he saw me doing to myself, and I know what I admitted to him. He has every right to still be freaked out about it all.

Sometimes I look at them…the scars left behind by my cutting, and they scare me. I don’t remember making half of them, and I don’t remember them causing me any pain. But some of the scratches are so deep, especially the words inscribed on my inner right thigh, that I’m amazed that I wasn’t crying out in pain while I was making them. I guess I was numb, yeah. But, thinking about Shane and what he did to me could make anybody numb I suppose.

Shaving and showering are easier. Trace and I have a lot of good conversations while I shave in the morning. It’s the only time we ever talk about the kidnapping in detail. I guess I feel more secure talking to him about it all in the bathroom, because nobody else is allowed to be in there while Trace is checking me out. I mean, I tell him some pretty graphic shit. Besides Madison, he’s the only one that knows the full extent of what happened to me. Kerri doesn’t even know a lot of the stuff I’ve told him. I mean she knows about what Shane and I did, but I didn’t go into detail about how everything went down that day. Like…Butt Sex. I call it Butt Sex now, because it sounds a lot more appealing than just ’sex with Shane’. It’s almost humorous. It almost…makes the whole thing seem okay. Trace doesn’t find amusement in my phrase though, even though I know if we were talking about somebody else we would both laugh our asses off. But it’s me. I’m the one who had Butt Sex…and it really isn’t anything to laugh about. He knows about the bathroom kiss too. It was hard for me to tell him about that, but Madison told me that I would need to tell Trace everything because he was my Lifeline and I needed put all of my trust in him.

“I made out with Shane,” I told him one morning. We weren’t talking about anything in particular at the time. Just about how Kerri rented a movie the night before and wanted us to watch it with her that evening. We’d been doing a lot of that since I’d gotten home. I didn’t want to go out …ever, so Trace and Kerri took it upon themselves to keep us entertained in the evenings. We played a lot of cards, and watched a lot of movies. More than anything though, Trace would whip out his video camera and the three of us would sit on my back deck and have a group discussion about our feelings. It was another thing on Madison’s List, and damn, did it ever help. I started to get to know Kerri all over again. Surprisingly, she was pretty open about her feelings. She talked a lot about fear, and how she felt while we were in there. I mean, of course I knew she was still keeping things from me, but I guess I expected that. Even though we’ve reconciled, I know she still doesn’t trust me completely…and I don’t trust her either. It’s going to take time, a long time, for me to be as close with her as I used to be. But we’re working on it…we’re working on it and that’s all that matters to me right now.

“What do you mean?” he’d asked, while handing me my razor.

“Just what I said.” I leaned forward and began to pull the razor across my shaving cream lathered face. “It was the first time…you know, the first time he touched me. It was the morning of the second day. Kerri and I managed to fall asleep somehow, and then the morning came before I knew it. Like, the door opened. It was always easy to tell when somebody was opening the door too. It was really rusty you know…and like, the lock made this fucking sick clicking sound.” I waited for him to say something, but as always, he simply took a seat on the toilet and waited for me to continue. I guess he figured listening was the best thing he could do, because if he said the wrong thing it would upset me.

“Shane came down and forced me to go upstairs with him,” I’d continued. “I was scared you know? But like…it was weird. He was talking in this sort of soft whisper. He kept telling me to behave and shit. I was so naïve then too…so fucking naïve, Trace.” I paused and ran the razor under the faucet for a moment. “First he called mom and I talked to her a little. He punched me too, because I tried to take the phone back when he took it away from me. I was a mess afterwards…crying and shit. I was so scared, and I wanted to talk to my mom again. Then he yanked me up off the floor told me I was going to use the bathroom. I wasn’t so scared then, because I had to pee really bad. Then like, he let me in there, but he didn’t stay outside…he came in with me. I didn’t show him how uncomfortable I was, because I figured he probably had to pee too. But you know…” I leaned against the sink and bowed my head. “He didn’t have to pee,” I’d admitted, with a shake of my head. “He just…he wanted me, you know?”

I looked over at Trace, and even though I knew he was disturbed by my story, he wasn’t letting his emotions show. It made me more confident that I could tell him what happened. Like…that Shane did a lot more than just kiss me that day. When it first happened, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that I let Shane, a man, do something like that to me. It was only one time, and I figured it would stop after that…but of course it didn’t stop. I tried my best to block it out…and I didn’t tell anybody about it until I went to the clinic and opened up to Madison about Shane. It’s strange, the Butt Sex was a lot easier to talk about. I could sort of believe that I didn’t want to do that with Shane. Madison explained to me that I was forced into it, and in a way, having Butt Sex was the only way to save Kerri’s life. It made sense; but I still feel like I could have stopped him. I still feel that I enjoyed what happened. I mean, even Shane said it: I saw the smile on your face…I felt your hard on.

Still, he did hold Kerri over my head before he had Butt Sex with me. If I didn’t give in, if I didn’t behave, I really don’t think Kerri would still be alive right now.

But he didn’t hold Kerri over my head when he pulled my pants down in that bathroom. And he didn’t hold Kerri over my head when he went down on me. I hate to admit it, but I let him do it. There was nothing stopping me from yelling at him to stop, there was nothing stopping me from hitting him or trying to take his gun away. Nathan wasn‘t there, it was just me and Shane in that tiny bathroom. I let him do that…and I found out who I really was that day. “He went down on me,” I’d blurted it out so fast, I barely heard myself say the words. I know I scared the hell out of Trace, just like I had the night I told him about Shane and the Butt Sex. He had the same look on his face.

“Okay,” he’d finally said. “You didn’t make out with him, Justin, and you didn’t let him go down on you. He just…he was sick okay? He was a sick person that did sick things. It wasn’t your fault. You had a gun to your head. What the hell were you supposed to do?” He’d shaken his head roughly. “If you tried to stop him, he probably would have killed you.”

But I only shrugged. I couldn’t see things his way. I was there. I saw it. I felt it. It was real, and I could have stopped it.

“You don’t’ believe me,” he’d informed me. “I know you don’t.”

It makes me feel so guilty when he says shit that. I mean, I know he’s been like a brother to me my whole life, and I know he wants to help me get through this. But I don’t think he deserves to be burdened with my tragedy all the time; because it didn’t happen to him, it happened to me. I know it’s taking it’s toll on his emotions, and I know it’s pushing his relationship with Elisha to the limit. That’s another thing…his relationship. I really like Elisha a lot. She’s the first decent girl that’s come into his life in a long time, and I know he loves her with his whole heart. If this thing pisses her off enough, and she leaves him, I’ll never forgive myself. His heart will be shattered, and I don’t know what he’ll do. You know, I really need to start focusing more on Kerri. She doesn’t have a relationship, at least not one that I’m aware of, and she was there with me too.

But, I guess I’ll have my chance to focus more of my attention on Kerri next week.

When Trace told me that Elisha wanted to go away with him, of course I didn’t protest. Elisha was probably bugging the hell out of him about it, and I’m sure it took him a long time to get the guts to bring the subject up to me. I can’t say that the thought of not having Trace by my side for a week didn’t make me nervous. It was quite the opposite. But I knew he needed some alone time with his girlfriend before I went on tour, and I made sure to point that out to him. Trace was really unsure about going though. He was afraid I wouldn’t be able to handle myself without him, and that I would turn into an emotional disaster all over again. It kind of hurt me that Trace didn’t have a lot of faith in me, but I didn’t tell him that. I could understand why he wouldn’t. I‘d hurt myself pretty bad, and I didn’t ask for help until I was forced to. I’d only gotten a second chance at my life, because Trace cared enough to pull me out of the dark and get me help. I was only just getting back on my feet too, and I think we both knew that any small mishap would send me right back to where I’d been three weeks ago.

The fact that Trace would be gone for a week wasn’t the biggest problem we were facing, however. It was finding somebody to fill in for him that was the hard part. The first option was my mother, and Trace seemed to think it was the best option available, but I didn’t agree. My mom still doesn’t know about the Butt Sex, because I’m still too ashamed to tell her about it. I guess telling Trace and Kerri about it was easier, because Trace has seen me do some shit that my mother still has no idea about. And Kerri well…Kerri was there with me. My mom though, I mean, she’s worried enough as it is without me springing something like that on her. I’m scared too; scared of what she would think about me if I told her. I think she would be ashamed that I let something like that happen. I’m supposed to be smarter than that, and I’m sure she would point that out. I love my mom. My mom is my rock…she’s the one who made my dreams come true. She sacrificed her life, her dreams, so I could live mine. How would telling her that I had Butt Sex make her feel? It would make her feel like a failure, like she had a freak for a son. I don’t think I can ever tell her what really happened, and that hurts me because I hate keeping stuff from my mom; but I know there isn’t any other way.

“If you’re not going to let your mom do it, then who’s gonna do it?,” Trace had grunted, before aiming his pool stick at the cue. We’d been in my basement, playing round after round of eight ball, while debating how to handle the situation. I was a little bitter, as I’d been losing nearly every game. Trace has always been better at pool than me, and I think I decided to get the pool table more for his sake than mine. I’m much better at video games, and bowling. Trace sucks at bowling though, and I think I might get a lane put in my basement just to spite him.

“I dunno,” I’d plopped down into my overstuffed leather chair, and looked on helplessly while Trace continued to sink more balls. “Maybe Madison will stay here.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get serious.”

In my heart I knew she wouldn’t stay with me. She has dozens of other patients to handle. I guess my spoiled ass was hoping she would give all that up for a week and stay with me because I was more important. But I wasn’t more important, and Trace pointed that out. I’m so thankful to have him around. He’s the only one that can keep me grounded. He’s the only one that can show me that I’m not that special. “Just put me in a home,” I’d grunted in annoyance. “That’s where I belong anyway.”

Trace didn’t say anything to me though. He never does when I choose to make derogatory comments about myself. He thinks its childish or something…that’s what he tells me anyway. He sank the rest of the pool balls, and then finally the eight ball. His brow was furrowed, not in concentration, but in thought. Then he stood up straight, and finally looked at me. “What about Kerri?,” he’d suggested softly. “She’s reliable.”

Naturally, the idea of being alone with Kerri for a week, wasn’t something I was comfortable with. Yeah, she’d been living with me, but it wasn’t like we were spending quality time alone together. Trace was always hanging out with us, and if he happened to go out someplace, I would usually hide away in my room, or go outside and try to write in my journal. I tried to make myself believe that I wasn’t avoiding her, but I know I was. It confused me. I was so open with her at the clinic. I told her about Shane and stuff, and she was okay about it. Hell, we even hugged, and I was the one who wanted her to stick around. She sacrificed a lot to come out and stay with me too, and I still feel horrible about that. I need to repay her somehow, even though I have no idea how I’m supposed to do that. I suppose talking to her more would help, but that’s going to be really hard for me. I guess she still makes me uneasy. I guess…I guess she still reminds me of everything that happened.

I thought about Trace’s suggestion for a few minutes, while he re-wracked the pool balls. I knew I would be uncomfortable being alone with Kerri but I didn’t know who else was going to take Trace’s place if I decided Kerri couldn’t be the one. The guys and my other friends don’t know I was in the clinic. Trace told them that I’d gone to Maui for a photo shoot, and that I was so comfortable there I’d decided to stay for a few more weeks. It was a big lie, but I’m glad he did it. I didn’t want my friends to know that I was having problems, because then they would have wanted to know details. Then they would have found out about the cutting, and then…they would have wanted to know why I was cutting…

They can’t know why.

Finally, I agreed with Trace. I figured Kerri was the only one who could truly understand me, and put up with all the shit I had to do to fix myself. Of course I knew it would be weird, and hard. But on the other hand, it would probably give us the chance to work on rebuilding our friendship; something I desperately wanted to get back. Trace was relieved that we’d resolved our problem, and I was happy that he would be able to go to Barbados with Elisha and have a nice, relaxing vacation.

He’ll still worry about me of course, but not as much as he normally does. He trusts Kerri. He trusts her more than I’ve been able to trust her in a long time.

When the three of us sat down to discuss what was going to happen when Trace went on vacation, Kerri didn’t seem that uncomfortable with the idea of being alone with me. Her attitude was a positive one. She even seemed a little excited; she said it would be a challenge for the both of us, and that she was sure that we needed a week alone together to reconnect anyway. I sort of agreed with her, but I was still scared….It hadn’t hit me that she would be the one to strip search me until that moment.

I have to remind myself every day that that she’s going to have to touch me, and I know it’s going to be hard. I haven’t allowed any woman to put her hands on me since Cameron and I were together. It doesn’t take much to set me off, and I’m afraid that she’ll do something to trigger a bad memory, and I’ll end up hitting her because of it. I still can’t get past the fact that I did that to Cam. Cam was so sweet, and nice…and she loved me, she really did. I slapped her, I hurt her, and I don’t think she’ll ever speak to me again. I have to prepare myself. I have to call Madison and talk to her about all of this…

If I hit Kerri, I’ll never forgive myself.

Kerri hasn’t seen my cuts yet either, and I don’t know how she’s going to react when she sees them for the first time. COME BACK is another issue. I know I can’t’ hide that from her, because it’s going to be her responsibility to check my whole body. But I don’t want to tell her why I scratched those words into my thigh. I don’t want to tell her it was because she left.

I don’t want to hurt her.

“Hey you.”

I hear somebody say the words, and it scares me to death, because nobody ever comes out here and bothers me while I’m writing in my journal. Naturally, I assume the worst has happened…Shane is back, everybody is dead and I’m about to be forced into Butt Sex again. I yell: “Who’s there!,” and I spring to my feet and whirl around. I clutch my journal tightly to my chest with one hand, and raise my pen in a defensive pose with the other; ready to attack whoever it is that’s come to get me. I’m no fool…I know what can happen if you aren’t prepared…

Nathan wasn’t prepared.

Kerri drops the bag in her hand to the ground, and jumps back. “I…” she begins to say, but her breath catches in her throat, cutting her speech short. She slowly backs away from me; her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

“Oh…” I let out a small whimper, and lower my attacking hand. I drop my journal and the pen on the grass, and stare back at Kerri. She looks shocked, and terrified of me. I feel so stupid and pathetic. I glance down at the bag she dropped. It’s from McDonalds. Right…Trace said we were gonna get McDonalds today, but that was hours ago. I just…I forgot. Damn it. “Uh I just…I…you just scared me.” I rub a trembling hand across the top of my head and down the back of my neck. “Sorry, Kerri.”

She slowly bends down and picks the bag up from the ground, before speaking again. “Don’t worry.” She forces a smile. “I probably would have done the same thing.”

I sigh. “No you wouldn’t have.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, and looks down at the grass for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “Are you okay?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, just fine.” I swallow hard and make an attempt to change the subject. “So…Trace sent you to get lunch?”

“Oh,” she smiles a little and glances at the bag in her hand. “Yeah. I got you two cheeseburgers and a French fry. Trace said to get you a burger, but not a Quarter Pounder because it has too much bread or something…I dunno. Anyway, here.” She hands me the bag, and I take it from her.

“Thanks.” I sit down under the Oak tree again, and pull one of the cheeseburgers out of the bag. I look at it, realize how many calories are in it, and then I put it back in. I’ll eat something later; like a bowl of Special K, yeah. My stomach is still in knots from when Kerri scared me anyway, and I don’t think I could stomach anything right now. I look up at her after a moment, and realize that she doesn’t have a bag of food for herself. “Did you eat?” I ask her, the concern apparent in my voice.

She comes closer and sits down in front of me. “Yeah, I had one of those fruit parfait things. I’m not really big on McDonalds. There‘s some leftover pizza in the fridge. I‘m going to have some of that in a little.”

“Oh.” I reach out and grab my journal and pen, just to be on the safe side. Then I sit back against the trunk of the tree and wait for Kerri to say something, but she doesn’t. She just stares at me, or the sky, or the grass. She doesn’t know what to say to say to me.

The awkward silence has arrived. This always seems to happen to Kerri and I if we ever end up by ourselves. I guess it’s because it doesn’t happen that often, or because we’re both so fucked up we don’t want to talk to each other, for the fear that Shane, Nathan, or Butt Sex might makes their way into our conversation. But really, it’s better if we start talking now instead of waiting until Trace leaves. We’ll be more comfortable around each other that way. But what the hell do I say to her? What should I talk to her about? I don’t want to talk about all that dramatic stuff right now. I just want to have a normal conversation with the girl for once. I want to talk to her like I used to talk her three years ago. Man, we had so much in common then. But now, I think the only thing we have in common is the fucking kidnapping. It’s my fault though. I walked out on her…I tossed her to the side like she was nothing. I deserve this.

I deserve everything that happened to me.

“I started a puzzle today.”

I look at her strangely. “What puzzle?”

She laughs softly and starts to pick at the grass below her left sneaker. “I was really bored this morning, so I snooped around your living room and I found this thousand piece puzzle under your couch. It was Mickey Mouse, you know…the one from Fantasia with the cool wizard hat.”

I have to think for a moment . Normally I wouldn‘t remember some so insignificant. I buy so much shit, on so many different occasions, that I can‘t remember half of it. But then, something clicks in my mind. Steven. I think Steven would have sold his soul to the devil for that damn puzzle. So, I bought it for him. Man, he was so happy. I think it was because it was one of those things we could do together. He always wants to do stuff with me, even if we only have a single day to spend together. That’s why I feel so guilty when I have to ditch him for work. If it were up to me, I would just take a year off and spend every single day with both of my brothers. “Oh yeah,” I laugh a little. “That’s been under there for awhile…I almost forgot about it. Steven made me buy it for him when he was here visiting. I was supposed to do it with him.” I pause and frown. “But of course, I never got around to it.”

“It’s Steve‘s?,” she gasps, and her eyes widen like she‘s performed some sort of unspeakable act. “Oh…should I have not put it together? I mean…because I can take it apart, Justin. I can…”

“Ker,” I interrupt her and laugh a little. “Calm down, it’s just a puzzle.”

“Yeah I know,” she murmurs, and looks back down at the grass again. “But I don’t want piss you off or anything.”

It’s obvious that she’s afraid of me, and I hate myself for it. But I should expect her to be afraid of me. After the way I treated her before she went back to New York, who could blame her? And the fact that I practically attacked her with my pen before isn’t helping the situation either. “I’m gonna try really hard to like…not be so moody,” I tell her. “I never meant to be a jerk back in Tennessee, Kerri. I didn’t mean those things I said, and I didn’t mean to push you like that. I was just really confused, and Shane well…I was still thinking about him and stuff…” I cut my speech short. I’m getting into what I don’t want to get into. Normal, Justin, I tell myself. Try to have a normal conversation with her for once. “Never mind,” I blurt out, and shake my head. “Just don’t be afraid of me, okay? Don’t be afraid to touch things and do things to keep yourself occupied. It’s your house too.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think I’m scared, really. It’s just weird for me. I mean, we haven’t been around each other this much since…damn, I don’t even know. We hated each other, you know after we had…”

I cut her off before she can say the word I fear the most. “I never hated you.”

And she stares at me.

“Well I didn’t,” I nod. “I was just confused.”

She takes a deep breath. “Lets not talk about this.”

“Okay,” I whisper. I suck in my bottom lip and fumble with the bottom of my t-shirt.

“Justin.”

I can’t look at her. This conversation has just gotten really weird, and I don’t think I can handle it much longer.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she says. “You shouldn’t’ be thinking about--what we did right now. Geez, what‘s wrong with me? You have enough to worry about.” She runs a hand through her long blond hair, and lets out a defeated sigh. “I must be stupid or something.”

She catches on quick. She didn’t try to say the word that time. “You’re not stupid Kerri,” I reassure her. “You…you’re like, one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. You know, you always seem to know what to do to make things work out.”

She laughs. “You don’t’ know me at all, Justin.”

My smile fades. “No?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, you know the old version of me…but not this one. But don’t’ feel bad,” she tells me. “I don’t know you either. That‘s why I stayed, so we could get to know each other all over again.” She fakes another smile, and it quickly vanishes.

I wish I could tell myself that she wasn‘t making any sense, but I‘d be lying. Kerri is making perfect sense right now. The person she is now, is a lot different from the person I knew three years ago. But I want to know the person she is now. I really do. I gotta talk to her more. Suddenly, I‘m not so worried about our week alone anymore. It‘s going to be the perfect opportunity for me to talk to her and find out who she is. I feel an overwhelming sense of eagerness take over me again. Like, I’m excited. Excited to know her, to spend time with her, to focus on somebody other than fucking Shane for once. “Did you finish the puzzle?,” I finally say. I know it’s a stupid question, but the subject of puzzles is a lot safer to talk about than our troubled past.

She cocks her head to the side. “Huh?”

I give her a stupid look. “The puzzle…Steve‘s puzzle.”

“Oh!” She smacks her forehead. “Yeah, almost. I was gonna finish it tomorrow or something. I wanted something to do when I was bored. It’s starting to look good though, I‘m about halfway through. The puzzle pieces have glitter on them and stuff too. It’s going to be pretty when it’s done.”

I thumb the edge of my journal nervously. “Wanna finish it with me?”

She seems surprised that I‘ve offered. “You…you want to do it with me?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “I haven’t done a puzzle in a long time. And you know, after we finish it we can get that glue stuff and save it. I bet we could send it to Steve or something.”

She smiles genuinely. “I bet he would like that.” She gets up from the ground, and holds her hand out to me. “You wanna go inside and work on it now?”

I smile, but I don’t take her hand as I get up from the ground. I’m not ready for that yet. “Yeah,” I say. I shove my pen in my pocket, and grip my journal and my bag off food tightly in my left hand.

“You have to eat your lunch too,” she tells me as we start toward the house. “Don’t get like you get.”

I shoot her a confused glance. “Like I get?”

“With your diet.”

“There’s nothing going on with my diet. I‘m on a strict diet program, and there‘s nothing wrong with that,” I scowl. “Know-it-all.”

She laughs. “I’m not a know it all. And no, there‘s nothing wrong with dieting, but Justin, you always take your dieting to the extreme.”

“I thought you didn’t’ know me anymore,” I mutter.

“Justin, I may not know you,” she tells me. “But I know your habits.” When we reach the house, she slides open the glass door, and I follow her inside. “But ugh, this fight is stupid Justin. Come on, lets go puzzle.”

I stop following her. This whole diet conversation has sort of annoyed me, but we’ve been getting along okay today, even…better than okay, and I don’t want my stupid emotions to fuck everything up. So I‘ll relax. I‘ll let it roll off of my shoulders…but just this once. I hope for her sake, she doesn‘t bring the subject up anytime soon. I would hate to blow up at her over something so silly. “I don’t know how I feel about puzzling with a know it all,” I say, trying to hide my smile. “You might try to cheat.”

She turns to face me. “You can’t cheat at a puzzle.”

“Yes you can,” I reply childishly. “You can like, hide the edges from me or something.”

“Kerri! Are you back!” Trace’s voice bellows from somewhere in the next room, interrupting our playful banter. “What’s with this puzzle on the coffee table? I wanted to put my feet up!”

“Oops,” she giggles.

“You stole his foot rest?” I laugh. “Uh-oh Ker, now you did it. Now hes’ gonna have to do some work and make the recliner go up.”

“I heard that Justin!”

I laugh out loud. It’s like…magic. I haven’t laughed like this in…I cant’ even remember.

“You’re laughing,” she tells me quietly.

I look at her. She’s beaming. And she’s…she’s something else too. Something I can’t admit to myself yet, because it scares me and confuses me. But still, it’s there. Like…in her eyes…it’s there. “Yeah,” I say, once I regain control of myself. “I guess I am.”

“Fuckin’ Mickey Mouse,” Trace continues. “What the hell is it doing here? I’m going to take it apart!”

“Trace!” Kerri whines. “Come on, it’s a work in progress! Look, you can help us finish it okay!”

“I hate puzzles, Kerrigan!”

She motions for me to follow her, and then she stalks off into the living room. “It’s my puzzle!”

“I paid for this coffee table, specifically so I could put my feet up on it…”

I chuckle a little, and then I tune them out. I’m so carefree right now. I feel like my problems don‘t exist. That somehow, history changed and the kidnapping never happened. But I’m not stupid. I know that nothing can change the past. My problems…they’re still there, waiting for me to come down from my care free high. But right now, I’m not going to worry about them. I’m going to go in there, and do that puzzle with Trace and Kerri. I’m going to laugh and joke like I used to before Shane came along. I’m going to be me for the afternoon. Not Justin the celebrity. Not Justin the victim. Not Justin the fag. Not Justin the psychotic mental case. Just me. Just Justin.

“Justin! Come help me whack Trace with the couch cushions!”

I smile. “I’ll be right there,” I call out.

And for the first time, Shane isn’t the one making my decision for me.

My eyes open and I’m surrounded by darkness. I don’t remember how I got here, or even where I was before I fell asleep. All I know is I can’t move my arms or legs, and my mouth is forced shut with a piece of tape. I whimper a little, and take a deep breath. I smell it: that musty dirty smell. Then my eyes go wide; I know where I am. Immediately the panic starts to set in, and I start to breath rapidly through my nose. Beads of sweat form at my brow and make their way down my face…I feel disgusting. The shed walls are starting to close in around me. They start slowly at first but then their pace quickens. I moan through my gag, begging someone or something to help me but there is nobody around to hear my cries. I’m going to be smothered…I’m going to die…

Then a brilliant light floods into my hellish world. I squint, and try to prevent the light from hurting my eyes, before I see a human figure appear before me. I don’t need to question who it is, I think I would know Shane anywhere. I cringe, and moan a little. Please don’t kill me.

“Hey sweetness.” He steps inside the shed and crouches down to my level. “Did you sleep well?” He pulls me into an upright position and shoves his gun into my temple when I ignore him. “I asked you a question, Kerri.”

Since I can’t speak, I nod quickly and hope it’s a good enough answer for him.

“You know, on the way up here I was mad at myself for not shooting you when I had the chance,” he informs me. “But you know, if I had…Justin would have never realized how much he loves me. He would have been too broken up about you. So, thanks for sticking this whole thing out.”

I start to shake uncontrollably. I know this is the end. He’s going to shoot me and dump my body here. I wonder…will anybody ever find me?

“It’s time to go,” he tells me. He stands up and grips me by the ankles, before sliding me out of the door by them. I start to whimper and moan. I try to be loud; I need somebody hear me before Shane shoots me. But there is nobody around to hear my pathetic muffled cries. I accept this, I have to. I have to accept that I’m about to die…

“NO!” My eyes open again, and I’m even more confused than I was before. It’s dark again, but this time I can move my legs and arms and there isn’t any tape over my mouth. The floor is still hard; but that dirty musty smell has been replaced by the scent of…vanilla? I force myself to sit up, and my eyes dart wildly around the room. I take a few deep breaths and try to remember…I try to remember anything. Yesterday, what was yesterday? Tuesday? No…Wednesday, right. What happened on Wednesday, Kerri? Suitcases…Trace. I helped Trace pack. I’m at Justin’s house. I got into bed at five after eleven with a book and some coffee. I promised myself I wasn’t going to fall asleep, because Trace threw out every bottle of liquor in the house and I knew that I would have some weird nightmare if I allowed myself to rest. But then, I guess I gave into my fatigue. Yeah, and look what happened.

I slowly rise up from the floor. I’m in Justin’s guest room. Somehow I fell off the bed and onto the floor. Shane isn’t here, I’m alive…I’m okay. “Oh God,” I moan pathetically before sprawling out across the bed. I look at the digital clock on the night stand. Damn, it’s nearly seven in the morning. I need to get up and make Justin his coffee. Trace told me I have to stick to his schedule, because if I don’t Justin will get all freaked out. I’m scared. I’m alone in this house with him and I have no idea how to act around him. It’s stupid. His personality couldn’t have changed that much in three years. I’m sure he’s still the same grumpy morning person he’s always been. His mood just might be a bit more intense, that’s all.

I can relate to that. I’m insecure and paranoid to the point where I think I might be going crazy. And the fact that Trace has caught onto my drinking problem isn’t helping me. When I got here, Justin’s bar was overloaded with bottles of alcohol, and I thought I was in heaven. But yesterday Trace made sure to dispose of them. “I know you don’t have a problem,” he lied as he poured another bottle of Jack down the sink. “But I don’t want to risk you getting drunk around Justin. He knows he’s not allowed to drink right now, and you know…temptation is a bad thing.”

I didn’t believe a word he said to me. I know he thinks I’m a drunk and hell, I‘m starting to believe it too. But it pissed me off. He doesn’t understand that I need the stuff to get to sleep at night. I don’t know what I’m going to do all week. I can’t just not sleep. Justin needs me to be alert for his sake. Maybe I can get him to run to the store with me so I can pick up some stuff…yeah. Then I’ll hide it, and indulge myself when he isn’t paying attention.

The alarm starts to buzz annoyingly in my ear, and I know I can’t wait around any longer. It’s time to start the day. I slide off the bed and make my way out of the bedroom and into the hall. I can hear the soft murmur of the television a few doors down and I know that Justin is already awake. I’m tempted to go say good morning to him, but I figure he’s probably grumpy and needs his cup of coffee more than he needs to see me. I quietly make my way down the large mahogany stair case, through the great room, and into the kitchen. Justin’s monstrosity of a coffee machine rests at one end of the counter, right next to the Italian Cappuccino maker. Trace showed me how to use them both before he left yesterday, and I think I have the coffee maker down; but the cappuccino machine is out of the question. There’s all these valves and shit…I know if I tried to use it I would break it, and I’m sure that machine is worth a few thousand dollars.

I open up the cabinet where the glasses are stored and notice a note taped inside the door. I pull it down and look at it. I recognize Trace’s handwriting immediately and I smile. He told me that he left little reminders all over the house, so I wouldn’t forget anything I’m supposed to do. I scan the page, and laugh a little when I realize that Trace took it upon himself to write out a ‘how to’ for the coffee maker and Cappuccino machine. Damn, when did he have time to do that? Elisha barely let him out of her site yesterday, except for the hour or so she was busy packing her own things. But even then, I was helping him pack his stuff. I shrug and sigh. I guess it doesn’t matter. I lay the page flat and pull a coffee mug out of the cabinet. I follow the instructions, and I’m surprised at how easy they process turns out to be. I smile again. I feel like I’ve accomplished something and it feels good. Most of the time I feel worthless, like I can’t do anything right.

Once the coffee is done, I pour some into Justin’s mug and get his morning medication ready before making my way upstairs again. Now I’m getting nervous. I’ve never done this before, and Trace told me to be prepared because Justin sometimes has mood swings in the morning. But it’s impossible for me to prepared for something like that. I hate to be screamed at…especially since the kidnapping. If I go in there and he yells at me, I’ll probably spill this coffee all over myself. God, gross…I’ll have to take like ten showers if that happens.

His door is open a crack and I slowly inch my way inside. I see him. He’s sitting up in bed, and Good Morning America is blaring on the television. Justin isn’t paying attention though. He’s writing in that book he’s always carrying around with him. Damn. I don’t want to startle him, but I don’t want his coffee to get cold either…

“You can leave it on my night stand.” He doesn’t look up from his writing as he says the words to me.

I gasp a little. I’m shocked that he heard me come in. With the television and all, I didn’t think he would.

“Leave it,” he grunts. His scribbling gets more rapid, and I know he doesn’t want me to bother him anymore.

I feel the tears well up behind my eye lids. I don’t know what to do. Trace said that he always watches TV with Justin in the morning. So, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do too? I step closer to him, and put his coffee mug on the nightstand like he told me to. “I wanted to say good morning,” I say finally, hoping that he’ll lighten up a little.

He drops the pen and closes his journal quickly, before looking up at me. “Morning,” he grunts. He takes his coffee and brings the cup to his lips, sipping it a little before putting it down again. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready to take a shower,” he nods.

“Don’t you want me to stay?” I ask him, even though I already know his answer.

He lets out an annoyed sigh. “Does it seem that way?”

I can’t even answer him. I know that if I do, I’ll end up losing my own temper; and that’s something that Justin doesn’t need to deal with this morning. So I keep my mouth shut, my expression calm, and I don’t say anything more to him. I simply plop his pills on his nighstand and walk out of the room.

“Kerri,” I hear him call to me when I’m almost halfway down the hall. I know I should ignore him and keep on going, but I can’t do it. So I pause, fully aware of the disappointment I’m about to bring upon myself, and wait for him to say something else to me. Part of me is hoping that he’s reconsidered and wants me to stay after all. Yeah, he realizes how foolish he’s acting and he knows he needs me.

I turn around and walk back to the door. “Yeah,” I manage.

I hear him shuffle to the doorway. He pulls it open all the way; revealing himself to me. I‘m able to study him for a few moments. He looks annoyed but well rested, and suddenly a feeling of extreme jealousy begins to overtake me. Justin sleeps at night. No, he‘s not okay. He‘s far from okay. But he doesn‘t have to force himself to stay awake at night to keep his demons away. He has help…pills, a doctor, and family and friends that love him. He can close his eyes at night and not be afraid. He doesn’t have to drink himself to sleep. He can just do it, like every other person in the world.

It‘s not fair.

“What are you staring at,” he grunts.

I gasp and straighten myself a little. “N-nothing,” I mumble. “Sorry.”

He shoots me a confused glare, and then sighs. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to get in the shower,” he nods. “Okay?”

I frown. “Oh. Okay.”

“You should eat something, you don’t look so good,” he informs me, before closing the door in my face.

I’m left standing alone in the large hallway, my mouth hanging open slightly. Damn it, he’s just made me angry. Who is he to tell me that I don’t look good? I’m much better off than him. I didn’t cut myself. I’m not the one on meds. I’m not the one that has to be babysat. God, this is insane. I should just go downstairs and find something to occupy myself with until Justin is ready, before I become more upset. So, I take my own advice. I slowly make my way downstairs again, and into the kitchen. It’s weird. This house seems so much bigger with Trace and Elisha gone. Big and empty…hollow. Hollow like I feel inside.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal. It’s Apple Jacks, and normally I won’t touch this crap with a ten foot pole, but I don’t have much of a choice. It’s the only cereal Justin has in the house, despite the fact that his pantry is the size of the closet in the guest room I’ve been inhabiting. It’s sick. He has boxes and boxes of it, like the stuff is going out of style or something. I mean, I know it’s his favorite cereal and all but really, are all those boxes necessary?

I sigh, and reluctantly pop a spoonful of the cereal into my mouth, before starting to read the back of the box. I’m almost halfway through the nutrition facts when I spot it. I can see it because it’s right in my eye level with the box, and I try to ignore it but my mind won‘t allow me to. There on the table…a little bit off the center, there is a ring. Somebody had a drink and didn’t bother to put a napkin under their cup. The ring, it’s sort of pink, and I think it might be Kool-Aid but I can’t be sure. All I know is it’s driving me absolutely insane right now. Germs…so many germs. Why don’t people think! Don’t they know how many germs can thrive in a little puddle of juice like that? My God, we could get E Coli and die.

I don’t hesitate a moment longer. I rise from the table, and take my cereal with me just to be on the safe side. I don’t want to give the germs a chance to attack my food. I carry it over to the counter and place it next to the coffee machine. Then I get a sponge and venture into the cabinet underneath the sink in search of cleaning supplies. I’m relieved when I find scouring powder and some disinfecting wipes. I carry the items over to the table and then I get to work. I use the wipes on the ring first, and after getting the initial stain off the table, I sprinkle the area with the powder. Then I scrub, so hard that no germ could possibly survive. But this isn’t enough. I know the germs could have easily spread all over the table by this time, because the ring probably formed last night when we were all eating dinner. Trace, I think he was sitting in that spot. I’ll have to have a talk with him about this when he comes back from Barbados. It’s bad enough that Justin has all of these mental issues. He doesn’t need to be getting sick on top of it too.

I wipe down the rest of the table with the wipes, and then sprinkle the scouring powder all over the table top. I give the entire table a good scrub down, and it takes me a good twenty minutes before I’m somewhat satisfied with my job. No, it’s still not completely disinfected; but I know if I want to get a proper cleansing in I’ll need at least three hours and I don’t have three hours to spend cleaning right now. Justin will be ready for his shower soon and I know I’m going to need all of my energy when it comes time to check his body.

I’m not ready for this. I haven’t been ready for this since Trace originally asked me to do this for him. But I couldn’t just tell him I wasn’t ready. I knew that he needed to get away, because he’d been through so much already and his relationship with Elisha was suffering because of it. So I guess I faked my true feelings. I went into this whole spiel about how it would be a challenge, and how I wanted to reconnect with Justin and being alone with him was the best way to do it. Bullshit…it was all bullshit. And now I have to face the consequences. I’m terrified. What if I fuck up? What if I touch him the wrong way and he freaks out? Hell, what if I see his scars and I start to freak out? Trace told me about them before he left. He told me to be prepared because seeing something like that for the first time is pretty heart wrenching. I’ve tried to prepare myself though, I really have…but I just…I don’t think it’s possible for me to prepare myself for this. Just knowing that Justin did that to himself…that he did it partly because of me, because I left…

The tears glide freely down my face, and I hate it. I hate that I can’t control myself right now. I hate that I can’t handle this. That I can’t handle any major challenge that I’m handed. I’m a failure, an obsessive freak.

How could Trace, or anybody for that matter, trust me to care for Justin? Jesus, I know I’m going to screw up. I just know it…

“Kerri, are you there?”

Justin’s voice booms through the intercom on the wall, and I jump slightly. I forgot he could do that. I toss the sponge into the sink, and wipe my wet hands on my sweatpants before pushing the button on the intercom to respond to him. “I’m here,” I say gently.

“Well I’m ready.” His voice quivers slightly as he says the words, and I know that he’s just as terrified of all of this as I am. “So just come up whenever okay?”

“Okay,” I say quickly, and release the button. I want to hide. I want somebody to come and rescue me from my responsibilities. For a moment I think…Trace, I’ll call him and he’ll come home and handle this for me. Sure, Elisha will be pissed but really, who cares? I snatch the portable phone off of it’s cradle and begin to dial Trace’s cell phone number frantically, not even thinking about the consequences. I don’t care about anybody but myself right now. Nothing and nobody…

Well, Justin. I care about Justin. Shit. I stop dialing and put the phone back. If Justin knew I was trying to get Trace to come home from his vacation he would never forgive me. Justin wanted Trace to take this vacation more than anything, despite the fact that being alone with me makes him uncomfortable. He’s putting himself through this for Trace, and I know I need to go along with the plan so Justin will be happy. That‘s why I‘m here, so Justin can be happy again.. “Snap out of it, Kerri,” I tell myself. “Right now.”

I take a few moments to collect my thoughts before I venture out of the kitchen and back upstairs. I almost go straight to the bathroom, but then I remember I’m going to need my key to unlock the medicine cabinet. Trace wasn’t kidding when he said he put locks on everything that could cause harm to Justin. There’s a lock on every drawer, on every cabinet door, on every medicine cabinet, and the set of keys that Trace gave me is so bulky, I can’t close my hand around it. The whole situation is weird. I’m starting to feel more and more that I’m a warden in some sort of minimum security prison and that Justin is enemy number one. It can’t be fair to him…not having freedom to do as he wishes in his own home. I wish I could change the rules and tell him that he can do whatever he wants, but at the same time I know that wouldn’t help him at all. He needs to be looked after. He’s still too weak and vulnerable to be alone with the things that can hurt him.

And today…right now, is just another step in his rehabilitation process. But if I keep standing around, dwelling on my fears and insecurities he’s never going to get anywhere. I enter my bedroom and quickly swipe the set of keys off of my nightstand. Then I make my way to the bathroom. I can hear the faucet running, but then it suddenly stops, and I know that just beyond the closed door Justin is waiting for me to come and do my duty. I close my eyes, I take a breath and then…I push the door open.

Justin is sitting edge of the tub, still fully clothed, his head buried in some book. I take a closer look at the cover. It says Going the Extra Mile: 1001 Ways to Improve Your Self Image. I smile a little. I’m sure Madison must have recommended it to him, and I’m happy for him. I’m happy that he has somebody so influential in his life right now. I won’t admit it to anybody, but I have a lot more respect for Madison now than I had in the beginning. She was really there for him the night that guy did those horrible things to him in the clinic. She made sure his friends were there, and that he felt safe. A tiny part of me almost wishes I could talk to her about what’s going on with me, but I would never do it. I can’t talk to people like that. I’m too private I guess, and she’s Justin’s doctor. I wouldn’t want to pull her attention away from him.

“Did you eat?”

I meet Justin’s gaze. His eyes are wide, intense, almost like he’s afraid of me. I know I feel the same way inside, and I’m trying as hard as I can not to let my feelings show. “Yeah,” I force out. “You know, all you have is Apple Jacks in there.”

He folds the corner of the page to mark his place and drops the book to the floor. “I know,” he nods. “I like ‘em. When I was at the place, they only gave us cornflakes in the morning. And you know, since I can’t really use the stove by myself right now…cereal is a good thing to have around.” He stands up and looks at me long and hard. “Well…” he says quietly.

I don’t even know where to start. How does Trace do this with him? I’m tempted to ask Justin, but I don’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is. What do I do? Do I tell him to strip? Do I wait for him to strip? “Uh, well…” I want to kick myself for letting such a stupid response come out of my mouth. Justin needs me to be the strong one right now. Trace even told me that. He told me that I should try not to let anything affect me. He told me that every situation should be treated like an every day occurrence, no matter how weird it might be. But this? This is entirely too awkward of a situation for me to treat it normally.

“Trace checks me first.” Justin’s voice snaps me out of my daze. “Then I shave, and then I shower.”

I stare at him like he’s speaking a foreign language. I didn’t expect him to be so forward, so…ready for this. Maybe he is getting better…a lot better, at a much faster pace than any of us have realized. “Oh…”

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable I understand,” he says quietly. “I mean, I’m uncomfortable too. And you know, I’m sorry I was kind of an asshole before.” He looks down at the floor, and shakes his head a little. “I guess I’m scared or whatever. Nobody else has done this besides the people at the clinic and Trace.” Then he meets my gaze again, and this time I can see how truly terrified he is.

“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I’ll be quick and then you know, you’ll just do your thing and shave and then it will be over.”

He nods and forces a smile, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. But he doesn‘t say anything else to me. He quickly lifts his t-shirt over his head; revealing the white tank top underneath. He tosses the shirt to the side, and lifts his tank top up. He’s trembling, but I don’t point this out. I take a few steps toward him and survey his chest and stomach. He doesn’t have a scratch on him, and I’m positive that he never cut himself on his upper body before. His body…it’s still as perfect as I remember it too. Justin has one of those killer washboard stomachs. The kind that most of the guys on campus wish they could have, and the kind that every girl wishes their boyfriend could have. I’m glad Justin is still in shape. He works his ass off trying to maintain his body, and if this whole thing made him stop caring…then he would really be in a bad position. It’s sad to admit, but Justin needs his body to look good, to maintain the level he’s at in his career. It’s what makes this business suck, and it’s also what makes Justin goes on all of those ridiculous diet binges. Yeah, the end result is awesome…but the crap it takes to get the results is horrible.

“Kerri?”

I stop gawking at his muscular perfection and meet his gaze again. “Yeah?”

He gives me an annoyed look. “I’m turning around now okay?”

“Oh.” I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, you’re fine go ahead.”

And he does. I take a look at his back, not hesitating to gaze at the tatoo just at the base of his neck. It’s new. Well probably not that new…but he didn’t have it before we stopped talking. “New tattoo?” I find myself asking him, even though I’m sure he wants to get this over with quickly.

“Oh…yeah,” he says. “It’s for my mom. It’s a guardian angel. I got it done a little bit after I put out Justified, you know, just because of everything she’s done for me. It’s kinda corny I guess…”

“No, it’s not,” I interrupt him.

He turns to face me. “You don’t think its gay?”

This situation has just gone from slightly uncomfortable, to nearly unbearable. I realize all too quickly that he’s not asking me about his tattoo. That look on his face…in his eyes, it’s asking me if I think that he‘s gay. I don’t know quite what to say, but I know I need to stay positive for his emotional well being. “Not at all,” I say quietly, hoping my words will be enough to rid him of his insecurities for the time being. “I think it’s really sweet.”

“Uh…sure.” He continues to stare at me, like he’s not sure he can believe what I’ve just told him. But then he seems to snap out of it, and quickly yanks his shirt down. “My scars are down here.” He points to his thighs.

Then it hits me. This is it. This is what I really need to be prepared for. I can’t cry when I see them. I can’t let him know how much it pains me to see what he did to himself. I…I can’t let him know that I blame myself for it. I have to hold it all inside of me, until I’m alone again. Then I can cry, then I can pound my pillow and ask God why this had to happen. But until then, I’m going to be calm, cool, and collected. Or at least I‘m going to try. “Okay,” I say softly. “Just…go ahead when you’re ready.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He pulls off his sweatpants, and makes sure to avoid meeting my gaze as he does so. At first I expect to see a horrendous amount of scarring up and down his legs, and I’m shocked when I see nothing but clear, healthy skin. Damn, Justin hid this really really well, and it’s horrible because I know he didn‘t have a choice. He does so many photo shoots and things that his secret would have been given away if he cut himself anywhere else besides his thighs. It’s horrible to think about him doing it to himself. Sitting alone somewhere, so scared, so hopeless, and bleeding out his pain.

Oh God…

“Are you sure you can do this?,” I hear him whimper.

I hear the fear and hopelessness in his voice, and I quickly force my tears back. I make myself look into his eyes, and somehow I manage to smile. “It’s fine, Justin,” I reassure him. “Go ahead.”

He nods slightly, and then rolls up the legs of his boxer shorts. I crouch down, and then I see it, and its…its just horrible. There are so many marks and scars covering his thighs, I can barely see the spots where there isn’t any damage. I start to choke up, and I try as hard as I can to force my tears back like before; but this time it doesn’t work. I feel them glide down my face, but I force myself not to sob or whimper. I reach out and touch one of his scars and I feel his entire body shudder. “You’re okay,” I tell him, before taking a closer look at his scarring. Trace told me that it’s important to check the big cuts, in case they start to become inflamed or whatever. If they are I have to make sure Justin puts cream on them…but thankfully they all seem fine…

What the hell is that?

My eyes widen when I see the words scratched into his inner right thigh, and I shake my head a little. What does that mean? I shouldn’t ask him, but then I hear the question escape out of my mouth faster than my brain can stop it. “What happened?”

He glances down at himself, and I hear him groan softly. “It’s nothing. I was just really messed up one night. I don’t even remember doing it to myself.”

He speaks too quickly though, and in my heart I’m sure that he knows exactly why he scratched that phrase into his leg. But he’s not going to tell me, not today at least, and I have to deal with it. It’s not my place to pressure him about it anyway. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “You’re okay.”

“I’m…I’m not okay,” he whispers. “Look at me Kerri. Look at what I did, just look!” he cries. “That’s not what a man does, Kerri. I’m supposed to be strong, and be able to deal with everything. Damn it…”

I wait for him to continue his speech, but when he doesn’t, I force myself to look away from his cuts and look back at him. He’s covered his face with one of his hands, in a pathetic attempt to hide his tears Every few seconds he hiccups a little and I know if he was alone he’d be hysterical. But what do I do? Do I sit here and wait until he stops, or do I get up and comfort him? Hell, does he even want to be comforted by me?

“Why’d he do it?” he manages to say, his hand still covering his eyes and forehead. “Why’d Shane make me this way?” He uncovers the rest of his face, and backs up into the wall. He stares at me for a few moments before sliding down to the floor. “I just wanted to go home for a weekend and spend time with my family…I wasn’t hurting anybody.”

“Justin…” I try to think of something meaningful to say, but I can’t think of anything at the moment. I’m so pained by what he’s going through that my thoughts are all jumbled together. I’m in a fog, and I wish I could get my damn act together. I’m the one Justin is relying on right now. I’m supposed to be helping him through this, not just sitting her gawking at him like he’s a freak or something. “Justin, let me help you,” I finally say. I move closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “Please let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” he sobs. “Nobody can. I’m just…I’m gross okay?”

I frown. “You aren’t gross.” My voice cracks a little, and I want to kick myself. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault, and you’ve come a hell of a long way since then. You’re getting better, Justin. You don‘t cut yourself anymore, and you‘re going to go back to work and everybody is going to love you okay?” I find myself rubbing my hand over one of his thighs soothingly, and somehow I manage to send him a genuine smile.

But he doesn’t seem comforted by my reassuring speech. His gaze lands on my hand, and his expression falls into a intense, frightened one. “No,” he grunts. “Get off of me!” He slaps my hand away from his leg and wraps his arms around himself.

He’s afraid of me.

I clutch my hand, and the tears flood my vision. I’m not in any pain, just intense shock. It’s like he thought I was about to hurt him or something…or maybe…molest him? “Justin,” I whisper, and meet his gaze again. He looks more frightened of me than he ever has and I just want to get away from him. Far, far away so I can’t cause him any more pain. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Right,” he cuts me off sternly. “You shouldn’t have. And it’s not going to happen again is it?”

I shake my head roughly.

He slowly rises from the floor, and takes in a deep breath before speaking again. “I need to get in there,” he points to the shower. “Go get my razor so I can shave all right?” He sniffles loudly, and turns away from me.

I bite down on my lip, and quickly do as he’s asked of me. I unlock the medicine cabinet with my key, and take out his razor and shaving cream. “Razor and cream, that’s all you need right?” I ask him, before locking the cabinet.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” I lock the cabinet, and Justin practically shoves me out of the way so he can have the sink to himself. I’m a little disgusted with him, but I can’t say I blame him. This is the first day, and I knew it was going to be hard…but I guess I was hoping that it wouldn’t have to be this hard.

Justin quickly lathers up and carefully begins to run the razor across his face. I keep my focus on him at all times, like Trace instructed me to do. But I don’t think it matters if I do or not. Justin has no desire to cut himself right now, at least I don’t think he does. I could probably leave the room right now, and go puke in the sink like I want to and I’m sure he would be fine. And I almost do it. I start to get up, ready to leave Justin to fend for himself, but then he starts to speak again.

“I don’t mean to come off as a jerk, okay? It’s just like…my thoughts are all jumbled together right now and I don’t know what the hell to think about all of this. I didn‘t want to cry in front you…but everything just hit me at once, you know?”

I try to think of something good to say, but I can’t think of anything. Not anything that would reassure him anyway. So, I just sit and watch him finish shaving. He doesn’t say anything else to me, and I figure I’ve probably annoyed him more by not trying to console him. It’s only when he finishes rinsing the excess cream off of his face that he turns to look at me.

“Kerri.”

I look down at the tile on the floor. “Yeah?”

“Are you sorry that you came here?”

His tone is soft and sad, and it causes me to look up at him. His expression is as sad as his voice sounds, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I don’t want him to break down and start crying again. I mean, of course I’m not sorry that I’m here. I’m happy to be here…happy to be helping out. Maybe the question is, am I sorry that I agreed to stay alone with Justin for the week? I think I might be a little regretful, but I won’t admit it to him. I can’t, because he needs me to be strong for him. “Of course not,” I finally say. “I just…I guess I just feel a little weird around you right now.” I cringe a little. I don’t think I wanted to let him know that much.

“Weird?” He cocks his head to the side, and hands me his razor back. “Why?”

I get up and put the razor back into the cabinet, before answering him. “I don’t know, Justin. It’s just hard I guess, seeing you this way.” Once I get the cabinet locked I turn to face him again. The sad expression on his face has been replaced with a slightly annoyed one and I know I’ve said the wrong thing. “You used to be so different.”

“Yeah, different.” He lets out a sad chuckle, and shakes his head. “I wasn’t a fag.”

Justin’s insecurity about his sexual preference has been nagging at me since I found out the truth about what Shane did to him. I know the fact that he was raped by a man has left him extremely confused. Does he even know what to do with himself? Can he even look at women the same way as he did before? I doubt it, but I wish I could convince him that he isn’t gay…that he’s just confused and terrified of what happened to him. And that brings my thoughts back to Cameron too. Justin and Trace don’t talk about her, and she never calls for him or anything. I mean, I know they’re ‘separated’ right now; but Trace told me that was Madison’s suggestion. I think that’s a lie though. I know Justin cared about her, from the way he talked about her in the basement. But if he cared about her and she cared about him then why isn’t she here?

That’s not a subject I should bring up.

I wish like hell that Shane was alive right now. I want to go to him, and kick him and hurt him and show him what he did to Justin. I want him to know what it’s like to live your life as a shell of the person you once were. I…I would give anything to be able to do that. “You aren’t gay.” I shake my head roughly. “You have to believe that Justin.”

But he only gets more annoyed by my comment. “Dammit Kerri!,” he yells, and punches the wall. “You don’t know what I am! Nobody knows…nobody knows what it‘s fucking like to be me!”

I gasp, and back up against the wall. I can’t take it when people get angry like this. It scares me, terrifies me. It reminds me of things that I’m constantly trying to forget. Like Shane, and his horrible temper…

I try to escape from this place, and get back to reality…back to the bathroom and Justin. But the harder I try, the more I realize that my memories are becoming reality. That the bathroom and the rest of Justin’s house are fading away and the basement is starting to take form. I can even smell that horrible musty smell, and then I see Shane and it’s so real that I feel like I’m going to vomit. He’s standing over Justin, just like he was that day he locked me in the shed. And he’s hitting Justin…punching him and kicking him so hard I don’t know how he‘s going to hold out. “Stop it!” I scream. I slide down the wall and wrap my arms around myself protectively. “Don’t hurt him Shane!”

“Please,” I sob. “Just let me see if he’s okay.”

“Please don’t do this,” I cry. “Just leave me here!”

“Kerri…Kerri look at me.”

I hear Justin’s voice, and I look up to see where it’s coming from. Then I see him. He’s looming over me, a sense of panic apparent on his face. He’s scared of Shane too. I’m not alone, and I almost feel relieved; but then the basement starts to fade away and the bathroom slowly comes back into view. Shane isn’t here. It’s only Justin and me, and Justin isn’t beat up and I’m not being dragged away to that god awful shed. And Justin, he’s not in a rage or going crazy or crying or anything like that. What I just saw was just an illusion, and I tremble a little, knowing that I may indeed be losing my mind. “We’re okay,” I tell him. “It’s okay now.”

He sighs and helps me to my feet. “What’s the matter with you?,” he asks me, as if he has no idea what could have triggered my sudden mental relapse.

I pull away from him and cross my arms over my chest. “Nothing,” I say, bluntly. “You just…you shouldn’t yell okay? I hate it when people yell.”

“Well if you would stop acting like you know everything, then maybe I won’t have to,” he states.

I stare at him. I stare at him long and hard because it seems like the only thing I can do to keep my anger inside of me right now. Christ, I just freaked out and he can’t even console me? He can’t just tell me that things are okay and he’s glad that I’m here? No…no he can’t because as always, Justin only cares about himself. And why should I be surprised? It’s not like this has never happened before.

“You know, I have enough going on without you getting all freaked out over nothing,” he continues. “Just relax okay?”

But I can’t relax now, because he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the fact that I was there too. That I suffered right along side him, and that I’m just as fucked up as he is. Trace is right. Damn it, just because I didn’t go through the same shit that he did, doesn’t give him the right to act like he deserves more sympathy or whatever it is. “You weren’t the only one there,” I say softly, even though I feel like screaming it at him. “I went through it too okay? Maybe…maybe Shane didn’t…do that to me but, I was there.”

Now, he stares at me.

“I…” he starts to say, but I shake my head roughly and he stops speaking.

“Just leave it,” I whisper. I yank open the door and storm out into the hallway.

“Wait a second.”

I know he‘s right behind me, but I force myself not to turn around and give into him. I just need to get away from him for a bit, and let this morning sink in a little more. “Leave me alone,” I tell him, before running down the hallway and into my room. He knocks on the door a few moments later, but I won’t let him in. There’s no way for me to lock the door of course, but I know Justin and I know he wouldn’t just barge in here like that. “Go away!” I yell.

“Kerri this is stupid,” he mutters. “We’re supposed to be a team.”

I don’t answer him. I back into the corner of the room, and sink down to the floor. I wrap my arms around my knees and rock my self back and forth, hoping that if I stay quiet long enough he’ll simply give up and go back to what he was doing.

“So you’re just going to leave me out here alone all day?,” he asks.

But I still don’t answer him.

He shouts a few obscenities at me through the door, and a moment later I hear him storm back down the hallway. A door slams, and I know he’s gone back into the bathroom. Good. Now we can stay out of each others way. I almost smile, but then I think of Trace, and how angry he would be if he knew I was locking myself away from Justin. He needs you, Kerri, he would say to me, with that famous look of disappointment on his face. But Trace isn’t here, so I shouldn’t’ be thinking about what he would do or say. Justin put this on himself. He needs to learn to control himself in front of me, and understand that I’m still very unstable.

I curl up on the bed and turn the TV on, hoping that it will take my mind off what just happened. But it doesn’t help. The news program I tuned into has gone to a commercial break, and as my luck would have it; the commercial is for Absolute Vodka. I see two young girls sitting at a bar, giggling about the cute bartender, before they are handed their drinks. “Cheers,” one of them laughs. Then the screen turns black and a logo for Absolute appears before my eyes. I think I’m drooling. I touch my hand to my lip…shit, I am. I haven’t had a drink in days. I sit up, clutch the pillow to my chest, and think. Drink…Whiskey, Beer, Wine…anything. I need a drink. A drink will solve it all. I can sleep, I can dream, I can escape from everything that’s happening. For a moment, I almost forget the fact that Trace took it upon himself to pour every drop of alcohol in the house down the sink. But then the realization hits me, and…and I’ve never hated Trace more in my life.

Damn him. Damn him for keeping it from me.

“No,” I shake my head in annoyance, and rub my hand over my face. “You don’t hate Trace,” I tell myself stupidly. “He’s trying to help.”

But I still need a drink.

Wait…

This house is huge. And Trace, he was rushing when he got rid of all the liquor that day. Right, Elisha was nagging at him to finish preparing the house, so they could go to dinner. I know it’s a long shot, especially because Trace is so fucking anal these days. But I mean, there might be a chance he missed a bottle or two. I know he likes to drink, and Justin used to before all of this happened. Maybe Justin has a stash that Trace doesn’t know about. Or maybe Trace has a few bottles of his own that he thinks nobody knows about. Hell, I’m desperate. Desperate and bored. And since I’m so desperate and so bored, I might as well go exploring. If anything, it will keep my mind off of Justin and off what happened in the bathroom. So, I’ll do it. And when I find my drink I’ll feel better and I’ll sleep and everything will be okay…

Just for a little while.

The Week From Hell

Entry 1

This morning couldn’t have gone any worse.

I called Madison, because I had no idea what to do with myself. I‘m still a mess about what happened in the bathroom earlier. I said a bunch of things I shouldn’t’ have, and I’m sure she’s probably gone back to hating me like she did before Shane. I don’t want her to hate me. God, I really don’t. But damn it, she touched me. She started running her hand up and down my leg like she wanted me. It reminded me of him…how he touched me, how he wanted me. And I couldn’t just…push it out of my head. I need her to understand that I couldn’t…that Shane was right there with me the whole time, and he was too amused with the situation to get out of my head. He kept saying ‘don’t let her too close…don’t let anybody too close, Justin. You know that only brings trouble.” Then he smiled and told me he loved me. Yeah, like he used to before it became too much for me to handle, and everything exploded in my face.

Kerri has no idea how hard it was for me to simply push her hand away from me instead of…well, turning into a monster. I’m not going to lie, I felt it inside of me. A rage that only somebody who’s been put through an hellish ordeal can feel. When she touched me like that, I just wanted to throw her into the wall, and I don’t have a fucking clue why. It scared me too. A lot. I don’t want what happened between Cam and I to happen with Kerri too. Kerri doesn’t know about all of that, not yet at least, and I’m thankful. I know I freak her out enough as it is; and if she finds out that I’m capable of hurting her well….I don’t think she’ll stick around much longer.

And I know I need her, even though I’ve been acting like I’d rather not have her around me. That’s just my defensive mode kicking in. Deep down…deep inside where I can really feel, I know I care about her, and I don’t want her to go anywhere. I need her to stay and protect me from everything; from the world…from the horrible memories of Shane and Butt Sex. Right now, right this minute…I’m terrified. I’m all alone in this big room on the upper level of my house, and I wish she was here next to me telling me everything is okay, and that I’m safe. Yeah, I know she’s just downstairs watching TV or whatever, but I still feel like I’m all alone. It’s probably because she wouldn’t speak to me after I yelled at her, and while I can’t really blame her…I wish she wouldn’t have taken it quite as hard as she did. Because…because if Shane comes back I’ll be all alone, and he’ll have total control. And there’s a good chance he might come back. I’m entirely too vulnerable right now, and Shane loves that. He loves it when I’m weak.

I wish I could have been calm in the bathroom with Kerri. I wish I could have let the body check roll off my shoulders, so we could have had a shot at a normal conversation. I would have asked her about school…yeah. School, her parents…oh, her sister. Yeah, Mary; I know she misses the hell out of Mary. Damn it, why is this all coming to me now? Why did it take four hours for me to clear my head and realize that she’s hurting and lonely too? Hello…powers that be…I need to put in another time travel request. Hey, maybe her parents can come out here for a couple of days before we leave for New York. I think she would really like that. It would definitely make up for this morning, and maybe…maybe she would be able to see that I’m not all that bad after all. But I think it should be one of those surprise kind of things. I think maybe I’ll call my mom up and tell her my idea. Yeah, and then my mom can talk to Kerri’s parents, and then they’ll come visit. And then maybe Kerri will actually smile a little.

I want to go talk to Kerri right now. I want to admit what I said and did was wrong. That she had every right to be uneasy and freaked out. And it wasn’t like I wasn’t worried about her when she started to freak out in the bathroom. I was. But it scared me, and my nerves were shot as it was. I guess I was in denial. Like, I guess this whole time I’ve been thinking that Kerri doesn’t have that many problems. But slowly, I’m starting to realize that she does have problems…a lot of problems.

Probably a lot more than I want to deal with right now.

On the other hand, keeping out of Kerri’s way could be for the best. I mean, even looking at her makes me start to think about a lot of shit that I shouldn’t have to deal with right now. Like, what we used to be, and I hate that. I hate thinking about how I fucked it all up, and how she wouldn‘t even be here right now if it wasn‘t for me and that stupid cake. It‘s sick to think that the only reason we‘re somewhat friends again is because of Shane and the fucked up shit he pulled. It‘s sick to think that…that he brought some life back into our friendship. Why did it have to happen that way? Why couldn‘t we have just thrown cake at each other and realize how silly we were being all these years?

The whole thing is fucked up. It will always be fucked up, and I will always be fucked up because of it. So I don’t’ know why I’m wasting my ink.

Do I still feel for her? Of course I do. I mean, this is Kerri…I’ll always have feelings for her. But I guess the question is, what kind of feelings are they? They can’t be sexual, because I just…I know I’m not into sex and shit right now. But in my heart I know that my feelings for Kerri go beyond friendship. I just wish I could get them sorted out, so I could sort myself out and talk to her before I lose her again.

Madison said that she wasn’t surprised that the morning went bad. She told me that she had repeatedly warned Trace about the consequences of leaving me with Kerri for a week, and that she’d even tried to talk him out of going. That made me angry. It wasn’t Trace’s fault, it was mine. I mean, I’m the one who told him to go on vacation in the first place. Hell, he’s my best friend and he fucking deserved to go and spend some time with his girl. He hasn’t had any real downtime with her since this whole thing started, and I owed it to him. If he didn’t go, I would have felt even worse.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish like hell he was back here.

I thought I would be able to handle Trace being gone, but the longer I sit and dwell on the fact that he’s gone, the more insecure I feel. He’s barely left my side since that day at the Triptons, and so I guess I’ve been a little spoiled by him. He makes me feel safe when he’s around, and since my return from the clinic, Shane hardly comes around when I’m with him. He talks to me, and he understands what I went through. Yeah, sometimes he can be a little pushy and overbearing when it comes to The List and the rules I have to follow, but I know he only acts that way because he has to. You know, he’s there when I need a hug. And when Trace hugs me, my whole world seems okay…it seems safe again. Yeah, maybe that’s gay. Maybe I do have feelings like that for him…gay feelings. But my sexuality has been fucked over for a long time now, and there’s nothing I can do about it so what the fuck does it matter anymore?

I need Trace. I need him a lot more than I need Kerri. I’d rather be alone with a man instead of a woman. Yes, that’s my sad, horrible reality. But it is what it is, and I’ll live with it until I can figure out what I wanna do.

On a lighter note…

Work. I’m looking forward to getting back to work. I think it’s really going to help me start to think straight, and resume my normal way of life. There’s just something about touring and being in the spotlight that makes your confidence soar. It’s like this kind of magic…the transforming kind. I mean, you can be the weakest person in the world, but when forty thousand people are cheering you on, and you’re dancing and singing your heart out…it almost makes you feel invincible. Like, you have this power that nobody else can take away from you. No, not even Shane could take it from me. He couldn’t take it then…he can’t take it now, and he won’t be able to take it when I go back to it all. I think now, for the first time in years, I’m truly grateful that my career has been this successful. I think I was taking it for granted for awhile, just because I could. But I was so young…hell, what am I saying? I’m still young. I guess I just feel older…

But of course I do.

It’s great though. I’m getting back to music. I’m getting to go back and do what I love, and I don’t think I could ask for anything better, besides that trip back in time. And the best thing is…nobody knows what I had to do to make it this far, besides the people I had to tell. They can’t harass me about it, or tell me how sorry they are that I had to go through therapy. Besides the minimal amount of press that knows me on a less than professional level, I’m still the same Justin in most people’s eyes. Of course they’ll see that I’ve changed, but it’s okay. I mean, they know I’ve been through something, so that makes up for it.

I can’t say I’m not overwhelmed by my upcoming schedule. As it is, I have an entire weeks worth of meetings and shit lined up for the week Trace gets back from Barbados. Jason’s flying out for the week too, and we’re going to go running in the mornings, and go work out in the afternoons so I can get in better shape for the tour. Part of me is glad that I’m going to be so busy, because I can start putting this all behind me that much faster. But the other part of me, the part of me that’s still terrified of the everything and anything, really doesn’t want anything to do with my career. But I’m not going to let that stop me. I can’t. I have too much to lose, and too many people would be let down if I simply just…quit. Security is going to be a big issue with me of course, but I know Tiny and Eric are more than prepared to deal with my paranoia. Actually, the first meeting we’re having is just going to cover security, and I’m looking forward to it. Trace is going to be there, and I know he’s going to have a lot to say, and a lot of good ideas. He always does, and that’s why I let him handle so many aspects of my career. He’s not just my assistant. He hires road crew…he handles my expenses, and he books all of my interviews and photo shoots.

I have faith in him.

Hitting the stage for the first time…it’s going to feel like a big breath of fresh air. All this time I’ve spent away from the business, I’ve felt like a huge part of me has been missing. I feel weird not having performed in all this time. I started touring back in December and I didn’t stop until August. I probably would have done a few more shows after the Donovan’s party too, if it hadn’t been for the kidnapping. The way I see it, if it hadn’t been for the Butt Sex, I think I probably could have pulled off going back to work after we got out of there. I mean, yeah I’d still be freaked out about it all but I could have worked through it. Performing would have helped of course, and I still would have been with Cameron too. I wouldn’t’ be so afraid of people touching me and looking at me, and I certainly wouldn’t’ have started to cut myself. If only I could have figured a way to get us out of there before the Butt Sex happened. If only…

Then everything would be fine.

I glance at my cell phone, and it takes all of my strength not to pick it up. I force myself to look back at my journal, and I grit my teeth in frustration. My hand moves toward the phone again, but I jerk it back and clench my fists tightly, turning my knuckles a brilliant shade of white. I can’t pick up that phone, because if I do, I know I’m going to end up bothering Trace with a bunch of shit he doesn’t need to deal with while he’s on vacation. With my luck, if I did call he would probably start to worry too much about Kerri and me and end up coming home tomorrow or something. I can’t have him do that, I refuse to let him do that. For one, Elisha is my friend too and I don’t want her to feel like I took Trace away from her again. But…I really need to talk to somebody. Yeah, somebody that gets me. I know I can call Madison back, she even told me I could; but there’s only so much she can do to console me. She’s trying to get me back to the person I used to be before the Butt Sex, but she doesn’t know what I was like then. She doesn’t know how carefree I was or how much I loved my friends and family. And she certainly doesn’t know that Kerri was the love of my life. She only knows the basics. That Kerri and I were best friends, until we slept together and ruined it. And until I reach that level of normalcy again, a part of me will always feel insecure talking about my Kerri problems with her. That’s why I wish Trace was here, because he already knows everything and he always has the solution to my problems.

But Trace can’t be here, and for the first time since he left I’m starting to realize that this little vacation of his is more of a test than anything else. He’s trying to see if I can do it. If I can be my own person, and if I can handle myself with Kerri so close by. If I can make it through this week without losing my mind, I think it will put him and everyone else involved at ease. Because if I can handle this, another major tour shouldn’t be a problem. And I have to tour, if I want to keep myself sane.

After I took my shower, I went back into my room because I didn’t want to run into Kerri again. But I’m paying the price now, because I’m starving. I hate to be hungry. When we were locked in that basement I was so hungry I thought I was going to die. So now, whenever I feel the slightest bit famished I make sure I eat. I never ever want to feel like I felt in that place again. But if I go downstairs…I know I’m going to have to face Kerri if I want to have some real lunch. I mean, I can’t open a can or anything; she’d have to do it. Christ, I feel like I’m five years old, and it’s embarrassing. With Trace it’s not so bad because he understands, but what about Kerri? Doesn’t this make her feel like a baby sitter or something? I’m a grown ass man…I shouldn’t have to ask people to do things for me. Maybe I’ll just put up with what I can make by myself for now, so I don‘t have to talk to Kerri. I could have cereal or oatmeal or something. Ooo or ice cream. I could go for some of that chocolate peanut butter stuff in the freezer. Yeah.

My craving forces me to pull myself out of bed, and I quickly flick the television off before I venture out into the hallway and down the stairs. I half expect to find Kerri sprawled out on the sofa when I go into the living room, but she’s not there. I pause, and listen for some kind of sign that she’s in the house, but I don’t hear her. I don’t hear anything…the whole house is eerily silent, and then my anxiety starts to kick in. I start to breath a little heavier, nervous that I’m suddenly more alone in the house than I thought. I really don’t like being alone anymore. Not ever since Shane separated Kerri and I. I’m afraid something bad is going to happen to me. What exactly, I don’t know, because there’s nothing here that can hurt me. This is my house, and it’s been secured as well as Fort Knox. I’m getting a new security system installed this week too. Trace knows about it, and he doesn’t want me to get it, because it’s one of those crazy high tech things that they use on big buildings and stuff. He says I’m being too extreme, but I beg to differ.

There’s nothing wrong with having a little extra security.

I make my way into the kitchen, hoping that Kerri is sitting at the table or something so I won’t feel so insecure anymore…but of course she’s not in here either. “Kerri,” I call out.

No answer.

I sigh. Ice cream. Ice cream will calm me down. I open up the freezer and pull out the carton. Then I open up the silver drawer to get a spoon. I sigh when I look down into it. It’s a big silver tray, and there’s nothing in it but a few metal spoons and some plastic forks and knives. All of my good stuff is locked away. I guess it depresses me, because it’s my stuff and I can‘t use it at my own free will. But then I suck in a breath, grab a spoon, and tell myself it’s for the best. I start to shut the drawer, my mouth watering for some sweet peanut buttery goodness…

But then I see it.

The point is shiny and sharp, and I feel myself growing weaker by the second. It’s a corkscrew. The curly kind with the sharp tip that you twist into the cork. It’s made of polished stainless steel, and it’s calling out to me. I can make it better. But I can‘t let it take over me…I can‘t. I slam the drawer shut, and turn my back to the counter. Why is it in there? Why? Trace wouldn’t have missed it. I know he spent a good two hours securing the kitchen, and the drawers were the first thing he took care off. That only leaves Kerri. And why would Kerri have needed a corkscrew? There’s no alcohol in the house, not anymore at least.

I’m so confused, and I’m tempted…I’m so tempted to open that drawer up again…

No.

What’s the first step Justin? I hear Madison’s voice in the back of my mind, and I swallow hard.

“The first step is to recognize that I need help,” I respond.

“Get my Lifeline involved.”

Right. Get help. Kerri. Kerri has the keys, and she can lock the corkscrew away…far away so I can’t hurt myself again. I need to find her. And I’m positive that she’s not in the house, so the only alternative is to look outside for her. I slide the glass door open and walk out onto the deck. I’m tense, sweating, and my breathing is rapid and heavy. It’s taking every ounce of strength I have inside of me to do this, and god…I hope I don’t turn back. I survey the backyard, hoping that she’s close by and not out at the basketball courts or anything. But then my gaze lands on the hammock and I see her lying there. She looks so calm, so relaxed, and I’m happy that she’s gotten over this morning so quickly.

I jog down the steps, and start to make my way across the yard and over to her. I fiddle with my hands, and the bottom of my t-shirt, running through what I need to say to her. I don’t’ want to cut myself Kerri. But then…squish. I feel my shoe and sock become soaked and I look down to see a reddish liquid trailing from my feet all the way up to where Kerri is. Blood is the first thought that comes to my mind. And the thought that it’s Kerri’s blood hits me all too soon. “Kerri!” I scream, and bound towards her. She doesn’t react and it only brings my state of panic to the next level. “Kerri!” I shake her as soon as I’m close enough to touch her, and the tears start to glide down my face in long, thick trails. “Kerri! Wake up!”

And then she laughs.

“Eee!! Stoppp it!!”

I fall backwards and land on my backside. I’m trembling. I’m still not sure what’s happened. I look up at her, and she’s still giggling. No, she’s not dead. “Thank god,” I gasp. I get up and lean over her.

“Kerri…Kerri are you okay?”

“Silly,” she laughs and pokes me a little. “I’m wonderful!”

Her breath smells sweet, like raspberries or something., That’s when I realize…the liquid in the grass isn’t blood at all. Kerri’s been drinking, and I have no idea how or when she got her hands on the stuff. Trace threw it all out. Hell, I saw him tossing the bottles. What the hell? It’s 1130 in the morning for God’s sake. How can she be drunk? I look down, and I can see a bottle lying in the grass beside the hammock. It has a bit of the red stuff left in it, and the ants have already started their feast on the sweet liquid. I almost bend down to pick it up and see what it is, but then I remember it’s glass…and I remember why I needed to find Kerri in the first place.

“Kerri, I need you to come in the house.”

“I got you a present,” she slurs, and holds the cork from the bottle in the air. “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah,” I whimper. “Come on.”

“Mmmm,” she groans. “I want to sleep.”

“You can’t sleep!” I yell. “I…there’s something in the house, Kerri.”

She sits up a little. “You’re a pain in my ass.” She tries to sound serious, but she only ends up smiling in the end. She sits up and moans a little. “Dizzy,” she giggles.

I help her to her feet, and we walk back to the house together. I have to keep my arm draped over her shoulder the whole way there, so she won’t fall over. Once we get inside she flops down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and puts her head in her hands without so much as a thank you to me. She can only complain that her head hurts and that she’s tired. I’m disgusted with her right now. How could she be so irresponsible? Trace trusted her, and so did I. Yeah, so maybe I could have been a little more rational in the bathroom, but she shouldn’t be taking my feelings so personally. She knows what happened to me, and she knows that I don’t like to be touched and looked at.

I think back to a few weeks ago, and I remember…I remember what Trace told me. It was a few days after I‘d come home from the clinic. My mom had been in town, and since they hadn’t really had the chance to talk since the kidnapping; she’d taken it upon her self to bring Kerri out to lunch. I guess that’s why Trace felt comfortable sharing something so personal about Kerri with me, even though I was, and still am, too stubborn to believe him.

“I think Kerri might be going through something,” he’d told me.

I practically laughed at him. “Of course she is. We were kidnapped, remember,” I’d reminded him.

“No,” he shook his head roughly. “That’s not it. I just…when we were in New York I found out some stuff and--”

“What stuff?”

But he just shrugged, and I knew that whatever it was, wasn’t something that Kerri wanted being spread around. “Just, all I’m saying is--I think we need to watch out for her. That’s all.”

The smarter part of me is telling me that Kerri has a drinking problem…a big one. But I just, I won’t believe it. Because if I do, it will mean that she’s not capable of looking out for me while Trace is gone. And that…that would just scare the crap out of me. No, there is no problem. What happened was…was that she was stressed out, and decided she was going to drink her problems away. Or maybe it’s one of those psychological things. Maybe she thinks that if I start to worry about her I won’t have time to think about everything else. Well, she needs to understand that she’s wrong. I’m not going to worry about her, because I don’t have time to. It’s me who has the real problems. I’m the one with the career to worry about, and I’m the one who had sex with a fucking man. Damn it, she has a hell of nerve trying to set me back with this stuff.

She’s so selfish.

“You left the corkscrew in the drawer,” I finally tell her.

“Boo hoo.” She sticks her tongue out at me, and tries to stagger to her feet but she only falls back down onto the chair. “Itssnot my fult,” she slurs.

I have to suck in a breath to keep from screaming at her. “Just get rid of it,” I grunt. “It’s not supposed to be here, and you know that.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m tired!” she wails. This time she manages to get to her feet. Then she stumbles out of the kitchen, seeming to have forgotten what the problem of the moment is. She…she doesn’t give a damn.

This is bullshit.

“Kerri!” I yell, and storm after her. But, when I get into the living room, she’s already passed out on the sofa. “Fuck,” I mutter. I want to shake her out of her sleep, and make her help me. She’s not going to get me to buy into her little act. She doesn’t have a problem…she doesn’t. It’s just a phase, that’s all. She’ll get over it in a couple of days. I sit down at the opposite end of the sofa. “Get up,” I grunt.

“Go ‘way,” she mumbles, and turns on her side so her back is toward me.

I sigh. I’m going to have to deal with this, until she recovers from her drunken state. I’m going to have to be strong for the next couple of hours. I can’t think about the corkscrew…I can’t think about the glass bottle lying in the yard. So what do I do? I’d turn the TV on, but I don’t want Kerri to be bothered, even though I‘m pissed at her. I’d write in my journal but…I just can’t do that with her being in the same room as me. Maybe I can read…yeah. I shuffle over to the bookcase, and grab a random book off of the shelf. The Great Gatsby. Oh. It’s one of those books that we bought for decoration. The binding is antique looking and it blends in with the paint on the wall. But hey…I’ll read it anyway. There’s nothing better than a classic right?

************

I think I managed to read the first three pages of The Great Gatsby, before the temptations started to grab hold of me again. I was stressed, panicked, and had nobody to confide in. It was so easy…the answer to my problems was lying in a drawer ten feet away. But I didn’t want to turn down that road again. I wanted to be the stronger person this time, so I forced myself to stay put. I gripped the arms of the chair so tightly, I think I might have left a permanent imprint in them. My fingernails…they’ve been chewed down to the skin. Every few minutes, the shakes will start and I’ll try to make them go away…but I can’t control them. I need help, I need to talk to somebody now, because I don’t know how much longer I can hold out against this horrible temptation. Hell, it’s been four hours since Kerri passed out on my sofa. And while it’s been really hard holding back, I’m almost proud of myself.

But in a few minutes I won’t be proud of myself anymore.

“Fuck it,” I mumble. I slowly get up from the overstuffed chair I’ve been sitting in, and look towards the kitchen. Then I look back at Kerri. She’s still sleeping ,and she still doesn’t’ care about me. I feel the tension pulling my emotions tighter and tighter. I think I might snap. I have to calm myself down, and…and there’s only one way to do that.

“It’s okay.” Shane appears in the doorframe separating the kitchen and the living room. “Just let it out, baby. I’ll be here when it’s over.”

I shake my head. “No…leave me alone,” I whisper, and place my hands at either side of my head. “You’re not real.”

“Oh no?” He saunters over to me, and puts one of his hands to my face, caressing it gently. “This feels pretty real to me.”

“Stop it!” I cry.

But he doesn’t listen. He pushes me to the floor, and stands over me. Then he starts to remove his belt, and flashes a sick, twisted smile at me. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, Justin.”

“Please,” I whimper. “Don’t do this.” I curl into a ball and shield my face with my hands. Then I start to cry, so hard that my whole body is shaking uncontrollably.

Then I feel his hands on me, and I scream…begging him not to do it to me again. “Please!” I cry. “Please don’t!”

“Justin…Justin it’s okay.”

But the voice isn’t Shane’s. It’s feminine, soft. I cautiously remove my hands from my face and look up at the figure standing over me. Kerri. I sit up a little bit, and look around for any sign of danger. “We have to get out of here,” I tell her. “They didn’t hurt you did they?”

She crouches down next to me. “Justin, what’s wrong?”

“Shh.” I pull her close to me, and slide myself in front of her so if Shane does come back, he’ll have to go through me before he can get to her. “I don’t know where he went…but he’s somewhere in this house.”

She cocks her head to the side. “Who?”

“Shane,” I whimper.

“Justin…” Her voice trails off and she shakes her head a little. “Shane can’t be here. He’s dead.”

“See that’s what he wants everybody to believe.” I jump to my feet and point a finger at her. “But he’s not. He’s still around and he still wants me, Kerri.”

She sighs, and starts to say something else to me; but then the phone starts to ring, breaking the moment. She picks up the portable phone on the end table. “Just hang on okay?” she tells me. “I have to answer.”

I cross my arms across my chest stubbornly. She doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m a mental case. “Sure,” I grunt. “If you’re not too drunk.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Hello? Oh!” Her enthusiasm is forced. “Trace, hey.”

His timing is horrible. I don’t want to talk to him right now, because I’m not in the mood to smile into the phone and pretend that everything is great. That this is truly turning out to be a bonding experience for Kerri and I, and that we’re going to live happily ever after. Because, that’s what I’m going to have to say to him. Stating the truth, would only bring disaster.

“Oh you know, we’re fine. It’s like old times,” she laughs into the phone, and I’m disgusted. I wonder if Trace can sense how fake she’s being right now. “So how is Barbados? Whale watching…really? Wow, I hope you took pictures.”

Since when did Kerri become interested in whale watching?

“Yeah he’s right here. I will, okay…yes Trace the pink pills in the morning I know I know. I’ll talk to you soon.” She covers the mouthpiece with her hand and looks at me finally. “He wants to talk to you.” And there is a look of doubt in her eyes. She thinks I’m going to ruin everything.

I’m not stupid. I can play the fake game too.

I take the phone from her, not hesitating to send her a cold glare first. “Trace?”

“Hey!,” he says enthusiastically. I can hear the roar of the ocean in the background, and I close my eyes, trying to imagine how nice it must be where he is. Not that Los Angeles isn’t nice. I mean, we have some killer beaches here. But it’s been so long since I’ve done anything like that, I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like. “What’s been going on?”

“Oh you know…the same old shit,” I force a laugh, and glance at Kerri quickly. She’s staring at me, and it’s making me uncomfortable so I decide to take my conversation into the other room. I use great caution as I move through the different rooms and hallways of my house. I’m still not convinced that Shane has retreated back to wherever he goes when he disappears. He could be lurking around a corner…hiding in a closet, just waiting…just waiting for his fucking chance. I finally find sanctuary in my downstairs guest room. I close the door and lean my back against it, so I can stop Shane if he tries to come in. I can still hear Kerri banging around in the kitchen and then I hear the sound of the kitchen door sliding open and then closing again. She’s gone outside, and part of me is worried that Shane might be out there. But I take a deep breath, and reassure myself that he‘s only out to get me and the only person I need to worry about, is myself.

“Justin, you there?”

Trace‘s worried tone snaps me out of my daze. “Oh yeah…sorry. How‘s Barbados?”

“Oh man, J. You should see it here, it’s incredible! Yesterday we went snorkeling, and I swear to you…the water is clearer here than it is in Hawaii. Elisha even petted a turtle,” he laughs.

“A turtle? Did you go to an aquarium?”

“No no. Like, when we were in the ocean a turtle swam by, and she caught it..” He informs me. “I got a great picture of it, with that underwater camera your mom got me for Christmas. I can’t wait to show you.”

“So things are good then,” I smile.

“Well…yeah,” he sighs. It’s almost a guilty sigh though. Like, he feels guilty that he’s on vacation having a great time while I‘m stuck at home. “I mean, it’s really beautiful and peaceful. It’s given Elisha and I a chance to talk and stuff…and it’s given me a chance to calm down a little.”

“That’s great Trace.”

“Justin…”

I rub my eyes with my hand. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for letting me do this.”

“I didn’t let you do anything,” I laugh softly. “It’s your life Trace. You shouldn’t have to be confined to the house because of me.”

“I haven’t been confined, Justin. Things happened, and I wanted to help. Things are turning around now though…at least I think they are. Right?”

I hate lying to him. “Yes,” I force out.

“And the whole Kerri thing isn’t making you uncomfortable?”

I swallow hard, but somehow I manage to respond with a small burst of laughter. “Maybe her cooking, and how she kicks my butt when we play poker. But like the other stuff…it’s fine.”

“Seriously?“

“Seriously,“ I reassure him.

He hesitates for a moment. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you?”

“Of course not. What do you take me for…I know the rules, Trace.” I say, a little too harshly.

“Sorry. I’m just saying…you know how things have been going and…”

“And what?” I snap. “I can’t handle being babysat by anybody else besides you?” I shouldn’t be acting this way. And I know I wouldn’t be, if Kerri had done the responsible thing and controlled her urges. It’s not Trace’s fault that Kerri is a psycho.

“Babysat?” He sounds hurt. “I didn’t know that was what I was doing, Justin. I thought I was helping you.”

“Look,” I huff. “I’m sorry okay? I’m just tired.”

Wrong answer.

“You’re tired?” His calm tone, has quickly jumped to a paranoid one, and I want to kick myself. “Why? Haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Yes I…”

“You’ve been taking your pills like your supposed to right?”

“Trace…”

“Because you know, I’ll get the next plane home if I have to. Damn it Justin, do you even know how much of a nervous wreck I’ve turned into out here? It’s taking everything in me just to put on a happy face for Elisha…shit, please don’t’ tell her that okay?”

I would tell him that he’s going to be a nervous wreck no matter where he is, but I won’t. I don’t want to upset him anymore than he already is. “Trace come on, you know you don’t want to come home. I’m sleeping fine, Kerri is fine, everything is fine okay? So just go get yourself a Pina Colada, and fall asleep under a palm tree.”

“A Pina Colada?” He starts to laugh, and I know my speech has reassured him a little. “You know I don’t drink that shit. It’s nasty.”

I almost let a genuine laugh escape me. But then I remember…drinks…Kerri, and why I was so stressed out to begin with. “You should get back,” I say quickly. “Elisha is probably wanting some Don Juan lovin’.”

“I’m not gonna go if you want to talk,” he tells me. “I’m here for you man.”

“Trace,” I groan.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs. “A guy can take a hint. But just…you know if there’s a problem and you need me I can come home…”

“Bye Trace,” I say, and hang up before he can talk himself into coming home. I put the phone down next to me, and hug my knees to my chest. I know I have to go back out there, but I really don’t want to. I don’t want to face her, and I don’t want to talk about why she was drunk. I don’t…I don’t want to yell at her anymore either, but I’m so angry. Kerri has never been the irresponsible one; that was always me. I was always the one who would do stupid things, and she was always the one who got me out of trouble. Even now, she’s here to keep me out of trouble.

I feel like I’m using her to be my live in maid for the week, and when Trace comes back I‘ll just go back to avoiding her all the time. I don’t trust anyone enough to hire them as a housekeeper. I’m afraid of people…that they might try to hurt me, or steal from me. So I just rely on my friends and family to take care of that kind of stuff. I guess I’m being a little selfish. Like, I know Trace says he doesn’t mind doing everything for me right now, but I still feel bad. He still has to plan the details of my tour, and set everything straight before I go back to work. And Kerri is supposed to be here to give him a hand, and I know that…but I won’t let her too close. It’s bad…really bad, because I know how much she sacrificed to do this. Why can’t I just be a man and face her? Why…I know why…

Because I’m not a man anymore.

Tap Tap. “Justin…please come out of there.”

The voice causes me to jump a little, before I realize that it’s just Kerri. But I don’t want to come out right now. I don’t want to face her, I don’t want to face what she did, and I don’t want to face Shane if he happens to come out of hiding. “I…I’m fine in here for now.”

“Justin, look,” she huffs. “I’m in charge, and you’re not supposed to be somewhere that I can’t see you. I’m sorry that I…that I got a little drunk before.”

A little drunk?

“But I’m fine now okay? I slept it off, and now it’s done.” Then she’s silent, and I know she’s waiting for me to either answer her or to come out and face her.

“Where did you get the wine?” I can’t help but be curious, because Trace was so adamant about getting the alcohol out of the house. Shit, what if it was…no, no she wouldn’t’ do that. Would she?

“I…I found it in Trace’s room.”

I think I’m going to hurl. I push myself up off the floor, and open the door. Kerri is looking down at the floor, and I think she might be about to cry but I have no remorse for her right now. “The wine on Trace’s dresser?” I grunt.

And she nods. “I…I’m sorry. Was it important?”

“Fuck yes!” I yell, and she cringes. “Do you even know…Kerri…it was special okay?” I shake my head roughly, and all the while my mind is screaming at me What are you going to do? You can’t get out of this one. “It was from this vineyard in Sicily. It was where he first told Elisha he loved her, okay? They only made like a hundred bottles of the stuff to begin with, and now the vineyard doesn‘t even exist anymore.”

And her mouth drops open. “Justin, I swear…I swear I didn’t know.”

“What the fuck were you thinking! You don’t just take people‘s things like that!”

But she doesn’t answer me. She turns on her heel and walks back down the hall. I’m so angry, that I follow her, and eventually we wind up back in the kitchen. The empty wine bottle is resting on the counter top, and Kerri immediately picks it up and reads the label. “It’s just wine,” she says pathetically. “We’ll get a different bottle, and he’ll never know the difference.”

“He’ll know,” I snap. “He’s not a fucking moron, Kerri. Christ, we’re in such deep shit right now, you have no idea.”

“He won’t know!” She screams the words at me, and walks over to the garbage can. She steps on the little lever to make the top open, and then she throws the bottle inside. I cringe when I hear the bottle crash against the bottom of the can, and shatter into a thousand pieces.

I know they‘re there. A thousand little pieces of glass just sitting there, calling out to me. I’m so stressed out right now, and once again…cutting myself seems like the best option. I hate this. I thought I was getting better, but I’m really not. If I had the chance, I probably would do it again and it’s just so fucking stupid that I want to hurt myself after everything Shane put me through. Haven’t I been through enough pain? “Get rid of it,” I whisper. “Please.”

After a few more moments, she stops looking down into the garbage can and then finally meets my gaze. “You’re so fucking selfish,” she mutters. “Something important to Trace is ruined, and all you can think about is ‘poor me, I might cut myself.’”

“It’s you fault it’s ruined!” I yell. “Now just…just get rid of the glass, Kerri! Get rid of it!”

“You know, if you’re too weak to stop hurting yourself it’s your own problem. Go ahead, bleed all over the place…nobody feels sorry for you anymore.” She lets the lid fall back into place, and storms away from me.

But I can’t follow her. My legs are weak, and I find myself sliding to the floor. “Kerri!” I scream. “Kerri don’t leave me alone! Please!” My eyes fly wildly to the garbage can, and back to her retreating form.

I cover my ears, and try to get Shane out of my head, but he just…he won’t leave. “Stop,” I whimper and curl into a ball. My eyes close. I can’t let him get the best of me…I just can’t. I have to be strong, I have to get through this on my own.

I hear something…jingling? Bells? What the hell? I slowly allow my eyes to open, and then I see Kerri again. She has a garbage bag in one hand, and she’s emptying the glass into it with a dust pan. “Kerri?,” I sob.

She looks up at me, but she doesn’t’ say anything. She looks angry, and I’m not sure why. Is she angry at me? Or angry at herself for bringing all of this about? She finishes emptying the glass into the bag, and she makes her way outside…leaving me to drown in my sorrows by myself. I whimper, then I sob a little…and now I’m crying again. I’m crying and I can’t stop. I think I hear her come back inside after awhile, but she doesn’t stop to comfort me. I know this is bad, I know if Trace knew about this he would be on the first flight back to Los Angeles. I could call him right now, and make him come back, but I won’t. I don’t want Kerri to think I’m weak like that. I want to be able to handle my problems on my own, and show her that I‘m not as weak as she thinks I am.

If I could just get myself to stop crying, maybe I could.

“I’ll just have a glass or two,” I’d told myself. “Nobody will ever know.”

Yesterday was a cooling off period for Justin and I. After what happened that previous day, I know we needed it. We didn’t’ talk or try to solve our problems. I got up, did his thing with him in the bathroom, made him some breakfast, and then we went our separate ways. He sulked in the backyard with that notebook of his all day, and I busied myself by watching a bunch of DVD’s, until it was time for dinner. We ordered a pizza around six, and ate it in silence. He didn’t try to spark up a conversation, and I think the most I said to him was: ‘do you want some more?’. I guess it got to me a bit, because I’d never sat down at a table with Justin before without cracking a joke or listening to one of his many stories. It’s probably why I cried like a baby when I laid down in bed that night. And it’s also a big part of the reason why I didn’t sleep at all. Well…not that I ever sleep anyway.

Justin is biting his fingernails, and it’s weird because he always used to be so against the idea. He would clip them, file them…do anything but bit them. His ‘feminine side’, he’d deemed it one summer, wouldn’t allow him to have ’nasty bit up nails’. I guess I always thought it was the unique side of him coming out. I mean, no other guy I knew gave a damn about their nails and hair and body as much as Justin did. It wasn’t just hygiene to him, it was an obsession and even though some aspects of his obsession worried me at times, I’ll admit…I had fun doing girlie things with him. No other guy I knew actually enjoyed being pampered at a professional salon, and I had fun with it.

When we had time, we would go out for a ’selfish day’, as we called them. Days where money was no object, and nobody else in the world mattered but us. We would get manicured, pedicure, massaged, facialed…the works. Then, after having an extremely expensive lunch, we would go drop a ton of money at the stores and boutiques near bye. I felt selfish most of the time. I mean, it’s not like I had the money to pay for a lot of that stuff. As it was, my parents didn’t support me going on my little ’Justin excursions’, and would only give me money to cover the necessities. Time and time I again I would inform him my parents had given me spending money for the trip, but he would never listen to me. “Put your money away Kerri. You couldn’t afford a sock in here.“ Then he would grab me by the hand and lead me into Prada or wherever the hell it was. I would always tell him that I couldn’t pay him back, but he never acted like it mattered. He seemed happy to entertain me when I had the chance to spend some time with him, because other than the summer months, and the few times NSYNC would make a stop in Tennessee, I was lucky if I saw him at all.

I guess seeing me was like a breath of fresh air for him. I’m sure spending most of his time with high profile celebrities, and other people in the entertainment business clouded his mind, and made him feel better than the rest of us. Trace would tell me stories sometimes, about how Justin could sometimes forget how to handle himself in public. That at times he could be a little too self absorbed, and talk down to people. But I never held it against him. He got so famous at such a young age, that for awhile I don’t think he knew how to act. I guess you can’t know though…not at that age. When I came around though, I brought him down, back to earth, back to the boy from Tennessee, and we just had fun. We were just kids again, just friends. Like, friends that had suddenly won the lottery and were having the time of their lives.

It was good for me too. I never told him when I saw him, but my home life wasn’t the best. My parents were too caught up in their own troubles to pay enough attention to me, and I had a hard time making friends in school because of it. I didn’t trust people, because everybody I’d ever known or cared about had left me behind. My parents had left me behind by focusing on their own problems, and Justin and Trace had left me behind to get rich and famous. I was afraid to let anybody else in, because I didn’t feel I could handle being screwed over by somebody else. So…I didn’t have any friends, and it hurt me, a lot. In fact, nobody knows just how much it hurt me.

But, I didn’t want to bring my problems with me when I saw him. I wanted to be happy, carefree…and just have fun like the other girls my age did. Justin helped me to be that way. He was the only one that seemed to care about me like, genuinely, and when we were together nobody could bring me down. I felt powerful, like I was somebody. And I guess it was because Justin was so…big. People stared at me, wanted to be like me, and I loved it. When I was back home, the other girls didn’t want anything to do with me, and the guys didn’t even notice me. I admit, all the attention went to my head a little, and Trace would always be the one to point it out. But I didn’t care. Being around Justin’s crowd was the only time I could let loose and have pride in myself.

The day I would arrive, we would spend hours talking. And…I would try not to get into what was going on at home, but at times he sort of forced it out of me. In the end I would end up breaking down and telling him about my parents, but I would never get into school and the fact that I didn’t’ have any friends. I knew Justin wouldn’t’ be able to understand, and if anything…he would have blamed himself for leaving me behind. I didn’t want that. I was proud that he’d been able to accomplish so much, and I wanted him to know that. Justin could relate to my problems with my parents too, as his parents marriage had ended when he was young, and it was well known amongst those closer to him that his parents had continued to fight for years afterward. Lynn recognized Justin’s potential, and instead of treating it as a hobby she decided to see what he could make of himself. Randy hated that idea. His outlook on life, was that a child should just be a child and make something of themselves when they were older and more prepared.

It was lucky for Lynn that Justin’s outlook on the situation was the same as hers.

“Take the next exit.”

Justin isn’t biting his nails anymore. Instead, he’s staring out his window, seemingly trying to ignore the fact that I’m the one who‘s driving. I know what he wants to do. He wants to get to Madison’s office so he can tell her what a horrible person I am. I mean, granted I made a mistake the other day. Alright, a big mistake. But really, he’s acting like I killed somebody. I wish he could understand that I just needed a drink. That the morning took a toll on my nerves, and I was so tired and I just…I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep without having another nightmare. But I guess he can’t understand, because I haven’t’ gone into my sleeping problem with him, and I won’t.

The bad thing is, Justin doesn’t trust me now. When I help him in the bathroom, he won’t allow me to touch him or anything. He shows me his body because he has to; but after that, he stands at one end of the room while I stand at the other and watch him shave. I’ve tried to make pointless small talk with him, like this morning. But I realized all too soon that I was wasting my time.

“Do you really think I’m in the mood to talk?” he asked me earlier. “Why don’t you go steal something else?”

I didn’t say anything to him after that.

I thought about calling Trace yesterday while Justin was outside in the yard, because he hadn‘t called the entire day, and I knew that wasn‘t like him. I know I shouldn’t have cared so much. He’s on vacation, trying to have a good time…but I just needed to hear his voice I guess. I needed to talked to somebody that didn’t hate me and I figured talking to him would put my mind at ease before I had to face again. So I gave in and called his cell phone. But when Elisha picked up the phone instead of him, I knew I’d made a mistake.

“Hey Elisha.” I’d forced a pleasant tone.

“Hi,” she’d grunted. “Is Justin okay?”

“Well yeah. I just wanted to talk to Trace real quick.”

“You’re sure he’s fine?” she’d repeated.

“Yeah, I just…”

“Trace is busy, Kerri,” she’d interrupted. “You need to understand that he’s on vacation, with me and he doesn’t have time to talk about your petty little problems, okay?”

I couldn’t believe how cold she was acting towards me. I mean, I know we haven’t talked or anything; but I figured Elisha was mature enough to put our bickering behind her and try to get along with me. But apparently I was wrong. “Sorry I bothered you,” I’d mumbled, before hanging up on her. Naturally, I became depressed and I started to cry…again. Then that passed, and of course I wanted another drink. This is getting out of hand. Back in New York, I could handle it. It was there when I needed it, and I never had to go without it. I never knew what it was like not to be able to have it within my reach, but now I do. And…it’s horrible. Everyday I get this ache, deep down inside of me. It’s my body’s way of telling me how badly it needs the alcohol, and it’s exactly how I felt when I went looking for some around the house.

I scared myself. For awhile, I think I was losing my mind. I was tearing through rooms and closets like I’d lost something precious to me. I was frantic at points. Sweating and crying…begging God to help me find something to cure my craving. It was no wonder that when I burst into Trace’s room and saw the wine, I didn’t’ bother to look at the bottle before I ran into the kitchen and yanked the cork out of the top. I didn’t care. It was there…finally. My drink was there, and I put the bottle to my lips and just drank…and drank…

And drank.

I don’t remember going outside, and I don’t remember falling asleep. All I remember is Justin shaking me and screaming at me to wake up, and when I did, I still didn’t realize where I was or what I’d done to myself. I feel like a fool now, a big one. Trace trusted me to be responsible, and watch out for Justin. He trusted me so much, that he got it into Justin’s head that he could trust me too. And…I just…I just fucking broke that trust like it didn’t’ even matter.

I don’t’ even know how the hell I’m going to be able to tell Trace about this. That is, if Justin hasn’t done it already. But I doubt he said anything, because if he had…Trace would be here right now, bitching my ass out for being so irresponsible. I guess I should be thankful to Justin, but I’m just too aggravated with him right now to feel anything positive towards him. I’m glad that he has an appointment with Madison today. It will give me some time away from him. Yeah, maybe it’s only an hour or so…but at least it’s something. It will give me a chance to clear my head, and think about what I need to say to him today. Maybe I can even find a liquor store around someplace…yeah, a drink would feel good right now.

Jesus. I…there is something wrong with me, isn’t there?

We ride in silence until we reach the clinic, and when I pull into the visitors parking lot I’m reminded of so much. Like, the first time I came to visit Justin in this place; and how cold he was toward me. Or, how nervous and edgy Trace was that day. I’m reminded of the day I was woken up before the sun rose, and how Trace raced up here with me. I was so confused that day, and then…Madison told me the truth about Justin, and I wished like hell that I could still be in the dark about everything. Then I remember the good things. Like how Justin confided in me, and how he held me. I felt so safe and protected then…in his arms.

I wish things could be that way again. Just for a moment. Just so I could try to ease my own pain. But maybe that’s selfish. Yeah, I’m sure it is.

Justin unbuckles himself, and starts to open the door, but I don’t say anything to him. I don’t know if he wants me to go in there with him and frankly, I don’t really care right now. The only thing I’m trying to do is prevent myself from crying in front of him. When he leaves…when he leaves I can cry for awhile.

“Ker.”

I look towards the open doorway. Justin is leaning down, looking back into the car. He looks a little tired, but not angry. Instead, he looks nervous and confused. I guess it’s probably hard for him…coming back to this place every week. Especially because of what his roommate tried to do to him. “Yeah?”

‘Would you uh…could you go in with me?” He doesn’t look at me as he asks me the question, and I really can’t blame him after how we‘ve been acting to each other.

“You want me to go with you?” I ask him stupidly.

He nods slightly, and then meets my gaze again. “They might…I mean, somebody…somebody might try to take me if they see me walking around by myself.”

“Oh…” I feel horrible for him. I might not be able to do a lot of things. Like sleep, and control my liquor cravings, but I can go out and do things by myself. In the beginning, when I first got back to New York I was scared to leave the apartment, but Siobhan got me out of that mode quick. Thanks to her, I have my independence, and at the moment…I’ve never been more thankful. “Yeah, of course I will.” I don’t smile, but I manage a positive nod before I get out of the car. We walk through the parking lot together, and I notice that Justin keeps look over his shoulder every few seconds. I want to tell him that everything is okay, but I know it won’t help him. He’s convinced everybody is out to get him, Trace even told me that. The only thing I can do for him right now, is stick by his side and get him into the building safely.

The clinic is just as I remember it. Gray walls, gray floors--funky smells. Justin is right next to me, clenching his fists, and looking around as if something or someone is about to jump out and attack him. I wonder…is he always like this when he comes to see Madison? Or is it just because of this week and because I’m here instead of Trace? Hell, I don’t know, and I’m sure Justin isn’t in the mood to be interrogated by me right now. So I just walk with him in silence, and I’m never more thankful when we reach the visitors center. I’m surprised to find Madison sitting in the waiting area, conversing with a young girl dressed in green smock clothes…a patient. It’s sort of weird. I didn’t think Madison ever sat around outside her office and talked to people. But, I guess it was the image I’d created of her, that made me think that way. After seeing how attached Justin is to her, I know she has to be really laid back. Justin hates serious people…he always has.

“Madison.” Justin speaks up immediately.

Madison glances at us quickly, and holds up a finger; signaling us to wait for a moment. She continues to speak with the girl seated beside her. I look closer, and I can see that the girl has been crying. Her face is tearstained, and her eyes are all swollen. I don’t even want to think about why she’s crying though…because she’s in this place. And if you’re in this place, and you’re crying well…I mean, I know what Justin went through. You cant get much worse than that.

It takes a few minutes, too long in my opinion…but eventually Madison gives the girl a reassuring pat on the hand and sends her on her way. The girl gets up cautiously, and looks at us like we’re going to kill her or something. I know that look. I see it in Justin’s eyes a lot, and I hate it. I cringe slightly as she skulks past me. It’s almost like I’m afraid that I’m going to catch whatever is plaguing her, but that’s crazy.

“Justin, good, you’re right on time,” Madison speaks cheerfully, and makes her way over to us. “How are you today?”

But Justin just shrugs and looks at the floor.

Then Madison looks at me. “Is everything okay, Kerri?” I know what she thinks. She thinks I did something wrong, and that I hurt Justin. Well you know what, it’s really none of her business. What I do is what I do and if Justin has any decency at all…

“It’s fine, Mad,” he replies sheepishly. “It’s been weird without Trace…for the both of us. That’s all.”

Oh.

“Well come on,” Madison tears her worried gaze from me, and gives Justin a reassuring rub on the shoulder. “Let’s go talk about it okay?”

He nods a little, and starts to follow Madison into her office. I think he’s forgotten all about me, and I start to feel stupid and unimportant. But then he stops and turns back to me. “Ker…you’ll be here when I’m done right?”

And he says it with such worry in his voice, that I find I can’t be annoyed with him…not even a little bit. “Yeah,” I reply finally. “I might run to the store for a snack, but I’ll be right here when you’re done.” Yeah, more like I’m going to run to the store for a forty…but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Okay.” He actually smiles a little bit, but I still don’t know what to think. There’s no way his anger towards me has subsided already. I guess he just feels so secure when Madison’s around, that he’s able to forget a lot of the crap that’s been bothering him. I know it won’t last though. I’m sure when we get back in the car later…everything I did yesterday will come rushing back to him, and he’ll start acting like he hates me again.

He disappears into Madison’s office, and the door closes behind him, shrouding them in privacy. I’m alone now. Free to roam the halls, or go outside and walk around…or even take a drive. But I find that I don’t want to do any of that. Now that I’m finally sitting down, without Justin around to remind me of what a failure I am…I start to realize how tired I am. I didn’t sleep last night, of course. But I didn’t think it would matter because I’d passed out in the middle of the day. I was wrong though. I’m still as tired as I normally am, maybe even more so. I think it’s the stress of fighting with Justin taking it’s toll on me. But I wish I wasn’t tired. I wish I was awake, lively, so I can hold my head high and focus on Justin’s problems. But as I sit back in the chair, I feel my eyes begin to droop, and all I can think about is how good it would feel to sleep for just and hour or so. Just so I could feel a little like myself again.

I gasp, and sit up straight in the chair. I’m awake, wide awake now. I won’t allow myself to doze off into the horrors of the past. I can’t. Not here. They’ll put me in a straightjacket or something. I lean forward, and pick through the pile of old magazines laid out on the coffee table. They all suck. Psychology Today? Better Homes and Gardens? Parent’s Magazine? What the hell is this? Do they think that everybody sitting in this waiting room is a middle aged adult? With a sigh I sit back in the chair again, and prop my head up with my fist. Come on time, I demand. Hurry up so I can get the hell out of here.

Another fifteen minutes of sheer bordem pass, and I’m never more thankful when I hear my phone start to play it’s little tune. I don’t even care who it is. Even if it’s my father or mother, I think I’d rather fight with them on the phone than sit here and risk thinking about Shane and Nathan, as crazy as that is. I flip open my phone. “Hello?”

“Hey girl,” I hear Trace say.

My heart skips a beat. Okay, maybe I’d rather to talk anybody else besides him right now. The wine…I stole his wine. I shake my head roughly. No, I can’t think about it right now…Trace can’t know about that. “Hey,” I say finally. “What’s up. You didn‘t call yesterday, what‘s going on?”

“Eh, nothing. Sorry Ker, I was just caught up,” he says quickly. “How are things?”

“Uh, no different than the other day,” I tell him. This time I’m not lying though. I’m just as miserable today as I‘ve been for the past two days. “Really though, you don’t need to be on the phone with me. Elisha will probably think you’re…”

“Elisha isn’t important right now,” he snaps.

And I know something is wrong.

“Trace?”

“I’m just…I feel better if I check in with y’all, that’s all,” he says in a calmer tone. “Where’s Justin?”

“He’s in with Madison right now,” I tell him.

“Oh.”

An uncomfortable silence follows. I don’t know what’s going on inside his head right now. Did he find out that Elisha wouldn’t let me talk to him this morning? Have they been fighting again? God, I hope not. This is their chance to reconnect as a couple, and if they spend the whole time fighting well…things aren’t going to work out very well when they come back. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask him finally. “You sound angry or something.”

He sighs heavily into the phone. “I’m just worried about you guys and stuff.”

But I know there’s more to this. “What about you and Elisha?”

He’s silent for another moment. “What about us?”

I roll my eyes. “Come on Trace.”

“I…I don’t know Kerri,” he says sadly. “I just don’t know what to do anymore. When we first got here it was really good. We did everything we planned on doing, but the minute I wanted to call and check in she got all pissed off. I don’t know what the hell her problem is, Ker. It’s like…she just wants me to cut the both of you off or something. And I can’t just…I can’t just do that. I mean, she cares about Justin. I know she does, but she doesn‘t understand how much he needs me right now. I guess, she‘s never understood our friendship though.”

I want to tell Trace to dump her ass and come home, but something inside of me is telling me to keep my mouth shut. For some strange reason, I feel like Elisha has a right to be acting this way. Now that I think about it, I guess I can say she’s scared. She loves Trace very much, but the kidnapping changed him…probably more than she wanted it to. She’s trying to get the old Trace back, but the thing she isn’t realizing, is that she can’t get him back. This whole thing has changed him forever, just like it changed Justin and I. She probably feels left out, like she can never understand, and while it’s not her fault…she still feels like it is. The end result? She clings to Trace like some kind of loyal dog, and tries not to let people like me take too much of his attention span up. “She doesn’t mean to be difficult,” I tell him, finally. “She loves you, and she’s afraid.”

“Afraid?” he chuckles. “She didn’t tell me you called before. I had to find out myself when I looked at my caller ID. Damn it, Kerri. Do you even know how much that kind of thing pisses me off? Something could have been wrong. Justin could have hurt himself and I wouldn’t have known a thing. That’s not fear, Kerri. That’s being selfish.”

“I told her everything was fine when she asked about it,” I tell him. “I’m sure if something happened, she would have put you on right away.”

But nothing I‘ve just told him seems to have an effect on his emotions. “It’s over Kerri.”

“Oh stop it.” I force a light laugh, hoping it will convince him that he’s being ridiculous. “You haven’t stopped talking about getting married since you proposed to her, Trace. You love her so…”

“But that’s the thing,” he interrupts me. “I don’t think I do anymore.”

“How can you be so sure?,” I grunt, and I have no idea why I’m defending the girl right now. I know she would never do it for me. “You’ve been with her for a long time, and sure I mean, this thing has changed us all. But you have to make it work Trace. I know you, and I know right now you’re just as confused about this as Justin and I are. But it doesn’t mean you don’t love your girlfriend, Trace. I know you love her.”

“Why can’t you just listen to me?” His voice cracks a little, and I quickly realize that Trace is more of an emotional wreck that I thought. I’m sure they’ve been fighting all day, and the whole not giving him the phone thing was probably the final straw. “I can’t even touch her anymore. We used to fall asleep in each others arms, Ker. Now…we’re lucky if we give each other a goodnight kiss. We don’t talk anymore, we don’t laugh together anymore. All we do is fight. Sure, yesterday was fun and for a little while it was like nothing was wrong. But then she started talking about the wedding and our future and shit. And the more she talked, the more I started to hate the whole idea. Kerri, I don’t want to marry her…hell, I don’t even want to be near her right now.”

This is horrible. Trace is in paradise, with who is supposed to be the love of his life, and he’s completely miserable. His relationship is falling apart as we speak, and when he comes home I doubt that Elisha will be with him. “What are you going to do,” I hear myself ask.

He lets out a sad laugh. “Nothing now. She’s already gone, Ker.”

My eyes widen, and I sit up a little. “What? But it’s only the third day into your…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I knew it would happen eventually. It was only a matter of time.”

“She left you?” My voice is full of shock.

“Well, it’s not official yet,” he tells me. “She’s still gotta give me the ring back. But yeah, she checked into another hotel and stuff, and she‘s getting a flight home the day after tomorrow. She says she wants some ‘space‘. But you know…I‘m done with her. I am.”

“Trace…” I shake my head in disbelief. “But things were going to work themselves out.”

“They were?” He sounds confused. “Have you heard us fighting every day, Kerri? Screaming at each other? I know Justin has, because he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it before we left.”

“I figured it was a phase,” I whisper.

“Screaming at the woman you’re about to marry isn’t a phase,” he informs me. “It’s a problem.”

I close my eyes, and squeeze the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. “Trace, I don’t even know what to say. I’m just…I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “So am I.”

“Are you coming home?” I ask, figuring that he wouldn’t want to be down there, dealing with this all by himself.

“No,” he says quickly. “I want to stay here for the week and just…think, you know? I want to find out where my life stands, and I need to get my head sorted out before I have to come back and help out Justin again.”

“Trace,” I sigh. “You’re all alone down there. At least come home so you can talk to us.”

“And what? Make Justin more depressed?,” he laughs. “You know how he is, Kerri. He’ll blame himself for this.”

As much as I want to convince him otherwise, I know he’s right. Justin would blame himself, because he blames himself for everything that’s been effected by our misfortune. Like it’s his fault that they kidnapped us or something. “I…I know,” I admit. “But still, I hate to think of you sitting alone in your hotel and being all depressed.”

“It’s fine, Kerri,” he reassures me. “I think being alone for a few days will be good for me. I’ll call you every night okay? And we can talk, just you and me…I promise.”

I don’t like his plan. Not at all. But I know no amount of persuading on my part is going to make him change his mind. “If that’s what you need to do,” I tell him. “But I’m not going to tell you I’m happy about it, because I’m not.”

“Are you having a hard time with Justin?” he suddenly asks me. “Because if that’s the case I’ll get a flight out tonight.”

If I say yes, I won’t be lying to him. But then I’d have to tell him the truth about everything…about the wine…and about how I scared the bejesus out of Justin. Then he’d hate me, and I couldn’t deal with that right now. “No. Justin and I are fine,” I lie. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Well don’t worry about me,” he orders. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll be home on Sunday. Oh, and Kerri, I really don’t think you should tell Justin about this. I don’t want him to flip out or anything while I’m gone.”

Too late. “Don’t you think he has a right to know, Trace? I mean, he tells you everything about him.”

“I know that,“ he huffs. “But I think I need to be the one to talk to him about it okay? It’s just…I’d feel better if I did it that way.”

I still don‘t feel right about this. “But Trace…”

“Promise me, okay?”

He says it with such urgency and demand, that I know I can’t let him down. I already messed things up enough behind his back anyway, and so, if I can do something else for him then it will sort of make up for the wine. Even though he doesn’t know about it yet. “Okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”

“Thanks Kerri,” he sounds relived. Part of me still doesn’t understand what the big secret is, but I figure it’s as he said. He doesn’t want to make Justin worried or upset more than he is. “Now tell me, how are you?”

I knew he was going to ask me that eventually, and I realize that I’m going to have to lie to him yet again. I hate this. Trace doesn’t deserved to be lied to, not after everything he’s done for me. But what can I do? Tell the truth? I wish I could…I really do. “I’m doing okay.”

“Are you sleeping?”

I make myself tell him the truth about this, just because it doesn’t matter. Not sleeping, doesn’t mean that I’m drinking. It just means that I’m afraid. “Not really,” I mumble. “I try to but…I’m scared of the dark, Trace.” Scared of the dark. I shake my head. I’m so damn pathetic.

He’s silent, and I’m really starting to regret that I told him that. I should have just told him that I’m fine. Now he’s going to worry. Stupid. You’re so stupid, Kerri.

“You’re not sleeping?,” he finally says. “Kerri…I hope you realize that this isn’t a good thing. You need to be ablet to function around Justin…” his voice trails off for a moment, as if he’s just realized something. “Kerri what’s going on? Are you sure that everything is okay? You haven’t been drinking have you?”

I let out a small, nervous laugh. Why is he so smart? Why can’t I ever get anything past him? “Drinking?” I say, as if I’ve never touched a drop of alcohol in my life. “What the hell Trace? You got rid of everything in the house. There’s nothing for me to drink.”

“Kerri, the liquor store isn’t that far from the house. You drive…you can take the car,” he informs me.

“Right, and leave Justin in the house by himself,” I snap. “That really sounds like something I’d do. I can’t believe you. You really must have no faith in me at all.” I feel horrible yelling at him. I’m covering up my lies and I feel like this little manipulative weasel. If Trace ever finds out the truth now, he’ll never speak to me again.

“Kerri it’s not that I don’t have faith in you,” he sighs. “I do. I have a ton of faith in you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have left Justin in your care, all right? But, I just know what I saw in New York, and I worry about it. You have a problem, Ker.”

“I don’t have a problem,” I mutter. “You just want to believe that I do.”

“I know what I saw,” he reminds me. “Why are you so angry? You told me you haven’t been drinking, so that’s a good thing. Maybe you’ve kicked this, and if that’s the case then I’m proud of you.”

I wish I could kick this. I wish I could simply close my eyes at night and sleep, and sleep…and sleep some more, without Shane and Nathan interrupting me. But I can’t, and it’s something I’ve come to accept on a daily basis. Alcohol is no longer just something I do to forget about my problems. It…it really is an addiction. It’s like some sort of elixer that keeps me alive, and without it I’m nothing but a failure. Just like I was yesterday. Just like I’ve been everyday without it. I cover my face with one of my hands, and sob a little, totally forgetting that the phone is still to my ear and Trace is on the other end of the line.

“Kerri,” he whispers. “Are you crying?”

“No.” But it comes out as a sob instead of a statement. I sit up quickly, and force my tears back. “I…I gotta go,” I say quickly. “Sorry.”

“Kerrigan you better not hang up that phone,” he warns me. “What the hell is wrong? You said everything is fine, and obviously that was a lie.”

“I’m…I’m not a liar,” I say, my voice cracking with each word. “I’m just so…I’m tired,” I tell him.

“That’s it,” he groans. “I’m coming home.”

I gasp. I know that if he comes home, Justin will never forgive me. He’ll blame me, degrade me to my face…and then he’ll tell Trace what I did. “Trace, no. Just stay down there like you want to okay? Justin…Justin will be upset if you come home.”

“I really don’t’ fucking care,” he yells. “You’re a mess, Kerri. You’re lying to me, you’re crying…and I’m not about to leave you around Justin when you’re like this. It’s dangerous.”

He has no idea how right he is. “No,” I beg him. “Trace, just give me a chance okay? I didn’t sleep that well last night, but other than that everything has been working out okay.”

“I’m sorry, Ker,” he sighs. “But I just don’t think I can trust you.”

My mouth hangs open. Failure. I hear Nathan whisper in my ear. Look at you. Look at how pathetic you are. You let your parents down. You let Siobhan down, you let Justin down, and now you’ve let Trace down; the one person who still gives a damn about you. I squeeze my eyes shut, and try to get him out of my head but I can’t. He’s still there…he’s still reminding me of everything I’ve done wrong, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him. “I’m sorry,” I say, more to Nathan than to Trace. “I really am.” Then I brake down. I start to cry into the phone, and I can’t stop. I feel ridiculous. Trace is thousands of miles away right now, and he doesn’t need this. I mean hell, his girlfriend just left him for Christ’s sake. My God, I’m so selfish. All I can do is think about myself and my problems. God why? Why can’t I pull myself together and realize that I don’t matter right now?

I hate myself.

“Kerri…Kerri shh,” I hear him say. “You gotta calm down, and stop crying. Don’t let Justin see you like that.”

“Justin,” I mutter. “Justin Justin…it’s always about fucking Justin,” I tell him. “And I’m trying, Trace. I’m trying as hard I can to put all my effort into him. But damn it, it’s really hard okay?”

“Where are you right now,” he asks me calmly. “You’re not driving around are you?”

“No.” I pause, and cry a little more. “I’m waiting for Justin,” I sniffle. “Outside of Madison’s office.”

“Kerri, I want you to go talk to Madison,” he tells me. “You need to, okay? You need help.”

And I almost let myself tell him I will. I’m almost able to tell myself that talking to her is a good idea. But then I hear Nathan again, so clear, so loud in my ear. You think talking to Madison will help you? Don’t listen to Trace, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Nobody can help you…nobody, because you’re a failure. A failure. If you go talk to Madison, she won’t have any time for Justin, and then he’ll get hurt again. You don’t want that do you?

NO, I tell myself. I don’t.

“No,” I say.

“No?” Trace gasps. “Kerri, listen to me…”

“You don’t understand,” I interrupt him. “I can’t just talk to her, like Justin does.”

“Justin was raped,” he reminds me. “And let me tell you, it took a lot for him to come out about that. Nothing…nothing like that happened to you okay? I’m not saying you don’t have a lot of problems too, because it’s obvious that you do. But it’s not like you have anything to be embarrassed or ashamed of.”

Nothing like that happened to you. His words echo in my mind, and I’m really angry at myself for letting my emotions out like this on the phone. He doesn’t get it, just like I knew he wouldn’t. He doesn’t understand that my life has turned into this living hell, where I can’t sleep, and I can’t think, and I’m numb all the time. “I don’t need Madison to solve my problems,” I tell him. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“Oh yeah,” he says sarcastically. “Like right now.”

“Well you know, I wasn’t raped,” I snap. “So what difference does it make…”

“Hey,” he cuts me off angrily. “That’s not what I was getting at and you know it.”

Then…silence. I have no more words for him, I’m too angry right now. Too angry and too tired. “Listen,” I whisper. “Justins going to be out soon, and I’m going to have to clear my head before then. So, I’ll just talk to you soon.”

“Maybe I said some stuff I shouldn’t have. And if I hurt you, I’m sorry Ker. It’s been really hard…all of this, and now Elisha’s gone too,” he whimpers. “There’s just so much happening to me at once, sometimes I can’t think straight.”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” I say quietly. “You should go relax, maybe take a nap or something. And when Justin and I get home I’ll take one too.” That part is a lie, but I’m hoping he’ll believe it and get off my back.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” he says. “Take a nap and stuff.”

“You’re not going to come home,” I sniffle. “Right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I don’t really want to,” he admits. “But I can’t let anything else happen to him Kerri. He’s been through enough.”

“I’m going to stop all of this.” And I mean it. From now until Sunday, no more drinking…no…no more. I cringe at the thought, and in my heart I know I’m not going to do well with this new promise. But I have to do it. Not just for me, but for Trace, and for Justin too. “I’m going to be fine okay? I’ll sleep and take care of everything. Just stay in Barbados and get everything sorted out with yourself, Trace.”

“I guess…I should have a little more faith in you,” he sighs heavily. “I mean you’ve always been responsible Kerri Donovan, and hell, I’m just paranoid I guess. “ He pauses for a moment, and I can hear him cough a little. “I’ll stay,” he tells me. “But…you’re not mad at me right?”

I’m relieved that he‘s decided to stay. “No, Trace,” I say. “Not at you.” Right. I’m not mad at Trace. Not at all. I’m mad with myself for being so damn pathetic. “So, I’ll talk to you later. Call me tonight, okay?”

He’s silent again, and just as I’m about to say goodbye and hang up, he speaks up again

“Kerri.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?,” he whispers, and his voice so empty and hollow, it sends chills through my body.

“Uh…of course,” I say.

“What if it was my fault?”

I can’t believe he’s starting this blaming thing again. He does it this every once in awhile. He‘ll get all depressed and worried, and he‘ll blame himself for the kidnapping. He never says exactly what he did, he just goes on and on about how it’s all his fault. I almost strangled him once for doing it. I mean, I know he’s distraught, but there isn’t any way Trace could have prevented what happened. He wasn’t with us when it happened, and he wasn’t the one that was bargaining with Shane. “We’ve been through this,” I tell him. “Come on Trace, it’s just because we’re depressed right now. Don’t start thinking like this.”

“But…what if something happened and you found out it really was my fault,” he continues. “Would you hate me, Kerri?”

I’m so confused, and my head is pounding now. I need some advil, chocolate, and a warm bed. “Trace, what are you getting at?” I say tiredly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“You didn’t answer the question, Kerri,” he persists. “Come on, would you or not?”

“Trace…” I hesistate. I don’t know how to answer his question, because it’s so totally ridiculous. “I could never hate you.”

“Not even if I could have stopped those assholes before hand, and I didn’t?”

“Trace,” I groan. “But you couldn’t have.”

“Maybe you‘re right,” he says quickly. “Listen, I am kinda tired after all. I’m gonna go lie down and shit. But I’ll call you later tonight all right?”

It‘s an excuse. I know he doesn‘t believe that. He‘s still blaming himself, tearing himself apart, and I wish I could make it better. Hell, I wish I could make everything better. Justin…Siobhan, my parents, Trace and Elisha. But I can‘t. I can‘t do anything. I can‘t even keep myself together. “None of this is your fault,” I remind him quickly. “You have to realize that, Trace.”

But he doesn’t seem to hear me. “I’ll call you later,” he whispers. “Bye Kerri.”

I almost say something else encouraging, but then I hear the soft click on the other end of the line, and I know he’s hung up on me. I throw my phone back into my purse, and put my head in my hands. What the hell is going on? The past two days have been horrible, and this morning wasn’t any better. But now, now Trace’s life is falling apart too, and I can’t do anything to stop it. I’m not strong enough, or smart enough. I feel myself begin to crumble again…and I can’t fucking stand it. I need a drink to calm my nerves, I know I do, and it makes me hate myself even more, because I just promised myself that I wasn’t going to think about drinking until after Trace comes back.

“Kerri.” I feel a hand fall lightly on my shoulder, and I gasp a little. When I look up, I see Madison, and I want to scream at her to get away from me. I don’t want her to know my problems, not at all. But just as before, she sits down besides me and lets me cry some. I think she knows I need to do this.

“Where’s Justin,” I manage to ask. “Your session isn’t over yet.” I sit up in the chair and wipe my eyes and nose with the back of my sleeve.

“He told me that he’s uncomfortable around you,” she nods. “So I thought it would be best if I came to talk to you for a few minutes.”

Great.

“What did he tell you,” I whisper, praying to God that she doesn’t know about the wine. “Because you know, I fucking tried,” I tell her angrily. “I did. And I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry that I can’t be strong all the damn time.” My bottom lip quivers as I say the words, and as soon as I stop speaking I let the sobs escape me. I don’t’ care anymore. I’m so…it just hurts so bad.

“He tells me he feels like he can’t confide in you, because your so closed off. And Kerri, I think he’s right. From the moment I met you, I could tell you had this giant barrier built around you to protect you from everything that you’re afraid of. I know Justin scares you Kerri. Not just because of the kidnapping either,” she nods. “You two have a deep past.”

There is no way I’m getting into my past with Justin right now. Especially with Madison. I know he probably told her all about me and him and the things we used to do, and how our friendship ended up falling apart. But that’s all on him. I’m not going to be angry about it, because Madison is his doctor and he’s supposed to get all of his anxiety out of his system when he talks to her. Am I a little embarrassed that she knows what we’ve done together? Maybe a little, but its nothing that I need to concern myself with right now. Right now, I’m really worried about Trace, and how Justin is going to take the news once Trace explains his situation. Oh yeah, and that ache in my gut is back too. “I’ve told you before that I don’t want to talk to you, Madison,” I say. “You’re Justin’s doctor, and that’s good enough.”

Her expression becomes stern. She think I‘m being impossible, and I really don‘t care. “And if you don’t talk about your problems, how long do you think you’re going to last before they catch up with you?,” she asks me.

“I’ll manage. It’s just a bunch of emotional bullshit anyway.”

“Right,” she shoots me a worried expression. “Like the wine was.”

My mouth drops open. He told her. He really did. I can’t…I can’t believe he would do that. Unless she pushed him to tell her what was really wrong, and now that I think about it, I’m sure she did. Great. Just fucking great. Now she’s going to tell Trace, and Trace…god, what if he kicks me out or something? “The wine?”

She nods.

“He told you?,” I whimper.

“Yes,” she tells me. “He didn’t’ want to. He was trying to protect you, but I made him tell me. It’s not good for Justin to keep things inside, no matter how small the problem may seem. It’s taken a long time for him to express his feelings freely again, Kerri. You need to respect that. Frankly, I’m very disappointed that you would expect him to keep something like this a secret. It was turning him into a nervous wreck.”

I add Madison to the list of people who hate me.

“Are you ready to talk to me now,” she asks me.

She thinks she so damn smart, but I know better. I know what happens when you tell people what you really feel. You wind up in a place like this, and you become more weak and vulnerable than you already are. Well…when you’re normal anyway. Justin handled it a little differently because of who he is. He had just a little more confidence because other people had so much faith in him from the beginning. But me…nobody has faith in me. “I told you that I’m not talking to you,” I repeat. I get up from the chair, and glance at my watch. “It looks like the hour is almost up,” I nod. “And I need to get Justin out of here.”

She sucks in a breath, and lets it out slowly. I think she’s pretty angry with me, but she’s not going to let me know just how much it’s affecting her. “You’re right,” she nods, but it‘s not reassuring. “I’ll go get him.”

And I’m shocked that she’s giving in so easily.

“But Kerri, if I hear about any more problems at the house while Trace is away, I swear to you, I’ll come pick him up myself and mandate him to the clinic until Trace returns. I mean it.” She turns on her heel, and without another word she goes back into her office.

She thinks shes so damn tough…

I sigh, and I can’t help but let everything she’s just said sink in. Shes’ right. I was wrong for expecting Justin to hide all of that inside of him. But I mean, what was I supposed to do? I don’t want Trace finding out, especially now. And…I don’t want Madison to think I have a drinking problem, but now she does. I need to get out of here. Away where I can be alone and think. Come on Justin…

I hear the door swing open several minutes later, and when I look up I see Justin again. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and he wont’ even look at me, just at the floor.. “You ready,” he finally says. His voice is hoarse, and I’m guessing he was crying before.

“Yeah,” I nod. “Are you?”

Then he looks at me. He seems scared of me, and really, I can’t blame him at all. “I…I really don’t want to go back to the house yet. Can we go for a drive, Ker? Maybe we can eat or something?”

I know all I want to do right now is go home, crawl into my bed and never come out again. But the look in his eyes is so desperate. It’s telling me that he needs this. That he needs to go out, to be free and that he…he needs me? “If you want to,” I say quietly.

“You were crying,” he nods.

I shrug. “Let’s just go okay?” And he holds out his hand to me. I’m a little weary of grabbing onto it, but something inside of me is telling me I should. So I do.

He laces his fingers through mine, and hangs on to my hand tightly, like he might lose me if he was to ever let go. “Okay, Kerri.”

I’ve tried to treat this day as any other. Like, I didn’t just get out of my session with Madison, and that Kerri and I haven’t been having so many problems lately. I try to think back to before, when we were actually friends. How did I act then? How much different was I from the person I am now? Shit, I can’t even remember because it’s been so long, and Shane has clouded my mind so much that I can’t think about much else.. It’s horrible, because if I can’t remember simple things about myself, how am I ever going to be normal again? The answer is I won’t be, no matter how much therapy I go through or how much quality time I spend with the people I love. I’m just...I’m screwed.

We grabbed a quick drive through lunch from McDonalds, and I ate mine while she shoved hers off to the side for ‘later’. I know she’s not going to eat it, but its not like I can blame her. Madison told me she was going to give her a talking to, and after I came out of the office I could tell that Kerri didn’t like what Madison had to say. It really makes me regret that I told Madison about what happened. But it’s not like I had a choice. The woman practically forced my problems out of me, threatening to call Trace and get him to come back home if I didn’t cooperate. I called it blackmail, and then she laughed at me. Yeah, it was a stupid comment, but I really didn’t want to have to tell Madison about Kerri’s drunken antics. I felt bad, like I was betraying what little trust she has for me. Maybe its stupid for me to feel bad, because she was irresponsible, she did get drunk, and I could have hurt myself really bad. If Trace knew the truth, I’m sure he would tell me it’s not my fault...

But I’m sure he would be even angrier at Kerri than I am.

I wasn’t kidding about the wine. It really meant something to Trace. Okay, maybe it’s gay that I know so many intimate details about my best friend’s relationship with his girlfriend but I mean, it can’t really be helped. He tells me everything about himself and his life, just like I tell him everything about me. Right before we pulled out for the Justified tour, Trace and Elisha went to Italy to celebrate their anniversary, and they bought that wine in a vineyard there. I know they were saving it for a special occasion too, and by the looks of it...that special occasion was probably going to be their wedding. Damn, I don’t even know who’s going to be hurt more: Trace or Elisha? Trace will be hurt because he trusted Kerri to be responsible, and I’m sure the last thing on his mind was her going into his room and stealing his shit. And Elisha well...she never liked Kerri to begin with so I’m sure the most she’ll do is yell at her and make her feel like garbage. It almost makes me want to call Trace up myself and warn him ahead of time so it won’t be so bad when he gets back. But I know if I do that, he’ll want to come home right away. I don’t’ want that. I want Kerri to have a chance to get her head together before then. And maybe...maybe I want us to have a second chance at this whole friendship thing too..

I’m not so angry with her anymore. The day it she got drunk and the day after were pretty bad. We hardly spoke, we barely looked each other in the eye. But those days have passed, and now life is moving forward once again. This morning I woke up a little stronger, a little wiser, and a little more carefree. But then I saw Kerri, and for a moment it was like we’d switched places. She looked so tired this morning. So withdrawn and lost, and there I was...refreshed and ready to face another day. Part of me felt guilty, but I guess I deserve to finally have some peace of mind. After everything I’ve been through....the cutting, and the lying to everybody, and the dreams...and the hallucinations; I’m finally almost out of it. I can finally see that light at the end of my long dark tunnel.

And deep down I know that I’m going to make it. I’m going to be okay.

But I realize that as I’m advancing, Kerri is slowly being left behind. I’m really worried about her now, more than I’ve been in a long time. I guess it’s been hard for me to think about her, or anybody else for that matter, because I’ve been so afraid that Shane is going to come back and hurt me again. But his visits have been come very infrequent. Now, he only pops up when I’m most vulnerable...like the other day when Kerri was drunk. Madison has played a big part in that, and these horse pills...despite the fact that I hate taking them, they help a lot too. They make my mind clear, like...I can focus. I can tell when Trace fakes his smiles, and when my mother tries to sound like she’s not worried about me. And I can tell that Kerri is turning down a dark path, and if she is allowed to wander down it far enough nobody will be able to help her.

And I don’t know what to do.

We stop at a red light, and I make myself look over at her. She’s staring straight ahead, her eyes focused intensely on the road ahead. Her hands grip the steering wheel tightly, turning her knuckles a brilliant shade of white. To anybody else, she would look like another girl in a rush to get back home; but I know better. She’s tense and exhausted. She can no longer hide the dark circles under her eyes with makeup, and she can’t hide how much pain she’s in anymore. The truth is blatantly obvious. Kerri isn’t sleeping...not at all, and God knows how the hell she’s managing to drive this car right now. I wonder how she even manages to get through her days without collapsing. And I start to feel selfish.

Compared to her, I’m a pampered little brat. Everybody worries about me, everybody makes sure that I’m well taken care of. But...who worries about Kerri? Who comforts her when she has nightmares? Who’s there for her? I never hear her talk about her parents, or Siobhan. And that can only mean that she misses them too much to bring them up, or they simply haven’t accepted what she’s done with her life by coming to live with me. Trace must know more than me, I’m sure. But he hasn’t told me. Yeah, because I’m the little faggot who’s too overly sensitive, and nobody wants to make him worry about anything else. But why should Kerri’s feelings just get tossed to the side because of that? Surely they realize that she was in the same predicament I was? Or maybe they’re so busy worrying about me, that they tend to forget that fact.

Maybe...maybe I should take this as a sign. Maybe I’m the one, the only one that can really get her to open up again. But I’m scared. Like, I don’t want to go back and remember everything. I’m halfway to moving past it all, especially Shane and the Butt Sex. Talking about everything with her...my feelings and fears, and hearing hers will bring that all back. But it’s not fair to her if I start thinking about myself. She’s dying inside...slowly. And I have to do something.

Kerri has always been notorious for hiding her feelings, and when her parents started to have all those problems, I think she retreated into herself even more. She started to distrust a lot of people, with the exception of Trace and I. For a while, I think I might have been the only person she could truly open up to, and I never took advantage of that. Well, not until that night in my hotel room anyway. She used to tell me a lot of things though. Like how she felt invisible around her parents, and how they hardly spoke to her unless she did something wrong.

I know it was really hard on her for a few years. Her mother was always a little shaky upstairs, but I guess when she had that second miscarriage it hit her hard. She broke down, felt like a failure and all that. It took all of her attention from Kerri, and as for Kerri’s dad well...he had to deal with her mother and didn’t have time to focus on Kerri. It angered me a lot, but it wasn’t like I could do anything about it. Kerri was still in high school, and there was no way her father would have let her drop out and come on the road with me. I blamed myself a lot, for not being able to be there for her like I should have been. And I guess it’s a big part of the reason why she’s so closed off to the rest of the world. Well that…and the fact that our friendship ended so suddenly. With the kidnapping as the icing on the cake, I’m sure she must not trust anybody anymore. She’s alone. And there’s nothing worse than being alone...and afraid.

"Kerri."

She slowly looks over at me, and I really see it this time. The pain is written on her face like a book, bearing all the emotional scars she received from our kidnapping right on down the line. "I think we should talk," I say.

She lets out an annoyed laugh. "Why," she mutters. "Because Madison thinks ‘it’s a good idea’?"

Part of me wants to lash out at her, but then I remember myself and how I was in the very beginning of my ordeal. Trace always wanted to talk, and I never let him in. I was in so much pain, and I was so afraid. I’m sure Kerri is feeling the same way right now. "No," I say softly. "Because I just...I think you need to talk to somebody."

She seems taken back by my response, but she doesn’t say anything to me. She looks back at the road, and starts to chew her lip in frustration. "Don’t tell me I have problems," she grunts. "You’re the one that’s in therapy, Justin."

"I’m in therapy because I admitted I had a problem," I counter. "In all honesty Kerri, we should both be in therapy. I mean, you’re messed up as much as I am, you just don’t want anybody to realize that."

She shakes her head. "No," she says sternly. "I’m fine. I didn’t cut. I didn’t...Shane didn’t rape me. Yeah, I was in there with you...but I was barely hurt at all. I’m getting on just fine without going to some stupid doctor."

Instead of letting the mention of Butt Sex make me angry, I think of a way to use it in a positive sense. Madison has instructed me to do that, whenever Shane comes around and tries to turn me against myself again. I guess it could work this way too, and if I do it right it might even benefit Kerri. "If I...if Shane didn’t have sex with me," I manage. "I would still have gone to see somebody. Actually, I probably would have been more willing to do it. You know like, I wouldn’t have been so ashamed to go talk to somebody."

She veers the car off to the side of the road angrily, and I hold my breath. I don’t think she’s in a great state of mind right now, and it would probably be safer if I drove the damn car, even though I’m not supposed to while I’m on this medication. "Slow down!" I exclaim. "Kerri..."

"Just relax. I know what I’m doing," she mutters.

After a moment, she slows to a stop in the emergency lane and I’ve never been more thankful. She turns off the car, and we sit in silence for what seems like years. She doesn’t look at me, and I try not to look at her but its hard. I want to know what she’s thinking...if anything I’ve just said has impacted her. "I hate it when...when you say things like that," she finally says, but she won’t look at me, only down at the dashboard. "Like it’s your fault or something."

She’s trying to turn this conversation into one about me and my problems. I almost smile, because she’s so much smarter than people take her for. Sure, she cares about me and she doesn’t’ want me to feel bad...but she also doesn’t want to go into what she’s going through right now. Before, I might have been tempted to defend myself and talk about Shane but not right now. I’m here, she’s here, and we’re alone. And damn it, I’m gonna get her to talk if it kills me. "Don’t make this about me," I tell her. "Kerri...look, I know that you’re not okay..."

"You don’t know anything about me," she replies quickly. "You’re too caught up in your own problems. So is Trace."

It’s not much, but it’s something. She feels alone, just like I thought she did. "So why don’t you say something? Why couldn’t you have said something the other day...instead of drinking that wine?"

"Because you were out of your mind!" she whines. "You freaked out because I touched you, and then...then you wouldn’t talk to me." She grabs the top of the steering wheel with both of her hands and leans her head against them. "I just... what was I supposed to do you know? I needed it...I just...god, just never mind."

"Kerri..." I put my hand on her shoulder, and try to think of something to say but then she starts to sob, and she won’t stop. It’s coming out now, but I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. "I didn’t mean to lose it that day," I say softly in her ear. "It was just weird having you that close to me."

She sniffles loudly, and after a moment, she picks her head up. "God, what am I doing?" she whispers. "I can’t cry in front of you like this." She shakes her head a little, and turns the key in the ignition. "Sorry...I’m sorry Justin."

I grab one of her hands before she can pull us back onto the road. "Look at me," I say sternly. "Don’t just run away."

She listens to me, but it seems to pain her to look at me. There is a guilty look in her eyes. Like she’s done something so wrong...so unforgivable, and I don’t want her to feel that way. I mean, yeah, the wine was special but it’s not the end of the world. And the other day I made her feel like it was.

"What do you want me to do?" she asks. "Tell you what’s happening to me?"

I nod slowly. "If it will help you."

"It’s just going to make things worse for you if I do, Justin. You have to understand that. I’m working through my problems on my own okay? And I have Trace to help me too..." her voice trails off as if she’s just remember something serious, and I’ve even more confused. "Just...don’t worry about it," she continues. "I’m not going to jump off a roof or anything."

I suck in a breath. "Unless you’re drunk." That might have been too bold, but I don’t really care right now. She’s got me worried sick, and if this is what it takes to get her to talk then so be it.

She rolls her eyes. "Just drop it." She yanks her hand away from me. "It’s not your problem."

"Yes it is," I snap. "It’s like you’ve said in the past...you were there too, and...you’re hurting too. I was just too fucked up before to realize it, Kerri."

"Too fucked up before?," she scoffs. "Justin it was only two days ago that you were freaking out. You couldn’t have changed that quickly."

“I’m trying,” I defend. “I want things to get better for us. I mean, don’t you?”

"Of course I do. But things can’t just change overnight like you want them too. We both have to sort out our own problems before we can worry about straightening our friendship out."

"The longer we wait, the more distant we’re going to become,” I point out. “We’re both here now, so I think we should start talking about how we feel about what happened."

She lets out a frustrated sigh. "We’ve done that with Trace."

I roll my eyes. "Oh please. That’s not the same and you know it. You’re so fake around him."

She glares at me angrily. "Excuse me?”

"Well you are. It’s like, you sit there when we’re doing our little group thing and you act like you’re so spiritual and that you’re perfectly fine. It’s a bunch of shit, and don’t think that he doesn’t see right through it either because he does. We both do."

She throws her hands up in frustration. "Well if I’m such a fake fucking bullshit artist, I’ll just go back to New York."

I‘m silent for a moment, and I look down at my lap. This isn‘t going like I want it to go. She‘s not cooperating, she‘s not talking to me. She‘s just getting more and more pissed off while I try to pry information out of her. "I didn’t say that," I finally say. I look up again, and meet her gaze. “You’re needed here. You know that.”

She crosses her arms and gives me a stubborn look. "You wouldn’t’ care if I did or didn’t,” she spits out. You’d just forget about me like you did three years ago."

I can’t tell her that I wasn’t wrong when I did what I did to her back then. But I’m not really thrilled that she’s throwing all of that in my face to prove her point right now. The issues she’s dealing with right now, and our issues from the past are two totally separate things. Once again, she’s trying to change the subject. "We’re not talking about when we had...sex," I say, painstakingly. "We’re talking about the kidnapping."

"Yeah. And I don’t feel like talking about it," she grunts. "I feel like going back to your house and falling asleep."

"But you wont fall asleep."

Her eyes widen. "Of course I will."

"Come on." I shoot her a sarcastic smirk. "Who are you kidding Kerri? I can see it on your face. I see the bags under your eyes and the dark circles there too. You don’t sleep, and you know I understand because I used to be the same way."

"No you weren’t!" she yells, and bangs her hand on the steering wheel. "You...you have no idea what it’s like for me! None! If I sleep...if I sleep they come and hurt me, Justin...every single time! It’s gotten so bad that I ...I just...oh god..."

Then she loses it. Completely and totally. She leans into her door, and covers her face with her hands, and just cries and cries, like everything that she’s been keeping locked inside of her is suddenly being allowed to be unleashed. And for once, I know what she needs. I reach out for her, and I pull her to me. She doesn’t push me away though. She wraps her arms around me and cries into my chest, mumbling a bunch of incomprehensible things that I’ll never begin to understand. But it doesn’t matter. This is a big step for her...for the both of us. "You’re gonna be okay," I say softly.

"Can’t cry," she manages to say clearly. But she can’t stop herself. "Fuck..."

"Just…” I pause for a moment, so I can maintain my composure. “Shhh.” I rub my hand up and down her back, and let her lean into me. “You’re allowed to do this Ker. You‘re allowed to be in pain too."

She lets herself cry on me for a good half hour, before she finally looks up at me again. She looks horrible. Snot runs out of her nostrils, and her face is red and tear stained. I reach into my glove box and hand her a napkin, which she accepts gratefully. She blows her nose a few times, and then she finally manages to say something. "I’m so stupid." Her voice is weak, and it cracks with each word. "Some supporter I am, huh? They should probably just toss me into the nut house."

I sigh. "Ker...believe me, you don’t wanna go in there."

She leans into me again. "You make me feel safe," she whispers. "And I know that’s probably too forward, but I don’t even know where my mind is right now. I just…don’t make me let go of you okay? It’s keeping me from jumping out into the middle of the road."

I manage a small laugh. I can’t deny that her touching me like this is making me uncomfortable because it really is. But I’m going to tough it out for her. Really, she has nobody else that can even begin to understand her problems. And after everything else, I think I owe it to her to do this for her. So I do. We sit in silence, and sometimes she sobs, and I tell her she’s okay, but that’s the extent of any conversation. It goes on for more than an hour, before we both decide that it’s time for us to get going. I offer to drive, even though Trace, my mom, and Madison would all kill me if they knew...but I know Kerri is in no condition to do it. It’s time for me to be the man. Right.

We switch places, and it feels good to be sitting behind the wheel of my car again. I feel powerful, like I’m somebody again. I smile, and look over at Kerri...hoping she’ll be able to share my joy. But...but she can’t.

She can’t because she’s fallen asleep.

************

I had peanut butter and jelly for dinner. Normally, I can’t stand the stuff and actually,the only reason I have it in the house is because Trace eats it like it’s going out of style. Freakin weirdo. I guess it wouldn’t’ have been that bad, but the plastic knife I’m forced to use doesn’t spread evenly for shit and it took me like tweny minutes to make two freakin sandwiches for myself. I know I could have woken Kerri up and had her help me out, but I felt bad. After we got home, it took me a good ten mintues to get Kerri to wake up, and another twenty to get her to get out of my car and into the house. She didn’t’ even go upstairs either. She just flopped down on my sofa, and passed right out. I guess I was happy that she was going to sleep so willingly, but it scared me too. I’d never seen her so tired or so out of energy before. I’m not in denial anymore now…

Kerri has big problems.

It’s late now, well past midnight. I took my pill a little over an hour ago even though I’m really supposed to take it at nine o’clock. Kerri is supposed to make sure of that. She’s also not supposed to let me get the pills myself either. But everything else about the The List is fucked anyway, so why not this too? I mean, I don’t want her to have to wake up now. She’s been asleep this long, so I say…let her sleep until she can’t sleep anymore. Hell, it’s not like anybody is gonna find out.

Kerri moans a little, and shifts in her position on the sofa. My eyes widen, and I get up from the chair quickly, thinking she’s having a bad dream. “Kerri.” I whisper.. But she doesn’t make anymore noise. She’s still, the only noise coming out of her is the occasional snore…and I relax again. I yawn, my medicine is really beginning to work now…but I don’t want to fall asleep. I want to be here for her if she wakes up, but I know how this stupid pill works…and I know its not going to be long before I’m out as cold as Kerri is. But I try my best to stay awake. I pace the room, I watch the tv, I even try to write in my journal a little, but I can’t focus on anything. I find that every time I settle in, my eyes start to droop and I nearly doze off. Damn it, I hate this. I hate being controlled. I wish for something…anything to happen. I’m tempted to call Trace, but I know all that will lead to is him asking me a million questions that I don’t’ want to answer. Then I’ll want to sleep.

I make my way over to where Kerri is sleeping, and move her legs a little so I can sit beside her. “Kerri,” I whisper, hoping she’ll finally wake up and start to entertain me. But she still doesn’t answer me. Sighing, I nearly give in and fall asleep. But then I hear the roar of a car engine outside, and my eyes widen. Nobody is supposed to be here. I tremble. I’m scared…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if it’s somebody that wants to hurt me. “Kerri.” I say, panicked. I shake her roughly, and after a couple of moments she groans, and turns over.

“Justin?” she grumbles, half asleep. “What are you doing?”

“Wake up,” I whine. “There’s somebody outside.”

She slowly sits up, and lets out a tired sigh. “There’s nobody outside,” she grumbles. “Just let me sleep.” She leans back into the couch cushion, and closes her eyes again.

And then the doorbell rings.

“Jesus.” I get up and race to the kitchen to geta frying pan. “Kerri…go hide someplace.”

“God, you are freaking ridiculous,” she groans, and gets up. “Put the frying pan down Justin.”

But I only clutch it tighter. I’m not stupid. I know what can happen if I’m not careful and let my guard down. “No,” I grunt.

The doorbell rings again, and Kerri staggers tiredly over to the door. “I’m sure it’s nobody dangerous,” she reassures me.

“Kerri no! Don’t open the door!”

But she doesn’t listen to me. She thinks I’m ridiculous, psychotic…and there isn’t any reason for me to try and stop her anymore, because she’s already decided that there isn’t anything to be afraid of. After another ring of the doorbell, Kerri finally yanks the door open. I look, I try to see past her so I can find out who it is. But damn, Kerri is blocking my freakin view. I don’t dare move closer though, for fear that it might be Shane…or something…

“Elisha?” I hear her say after a moment, and I gasp. For a moment, I think I’m hearing things. Elisha couldn’t’ be here, not now. She’s on vacation…or at least she’s supposed to be. Right…vacation with Trace. My eyes widen. Trace. Shit…he better not have come home for my sake.

“I just came to get my stuff.” Elisha pushes her way past Kerri, and into the house. She sees me, stares at me for a moment, and then shakes her head. “I won’t be long…you can put the frying pan away now.”

My mouth gapes open, and I slowly lower the frying pan I’ve been holding in the air. “You’re…you’re supposed to be in Barbados,” I tell her.

Elisha rolls her eyes at me. “Well I’m not.”

I’m still confused. “Well…where’s Trace?”

“He’s in Barbados,” she states simply, before walking toward the staircase.

I look at over at Kerri, but she doesn’t look as shocked as I feel. There’s an almost disappointed look on her face…a saddened one. And I try to figure out what‘s running through her head, but I can‘t. “But…wait…” I call out to Elisha. “What happened? Did y’all have a fight?”

She starts up the stairs, but pauses to look at me again. “Something like that,” she mutters, and starts away again.

“Elisha…come on you can’t just…expect me to understand.”

She sighs, and pauses again. “It’s not your problem, Justin. This about me and Trace, and nobody else,” she tells me. Without another word, she turns and runs up the rest of the stairs before I can stop her.

“But…he didn’t even call me!,” I call after her. I feel so excluded, like what’s happening in my best friend’s life isn’t any of my business. It makes me angry, and I start towards the staircase. “You’re not going to walk away from me without an explanation!” I bark. “There’s too much going on…” But before I can ascend the staircase, Kerri is there blocking my path.

“I’ll handle it, Justin,” she tells me. “Just stay down here.”

“No,” I say angrily. “It’s…it’s not your concern. Trace is…”

“I said I’d handle it Justin!” she yells. “If you go up there you’re just going to yell at her and make this worse than it already is! So just…just stop being an asshole and go sit down!” She points to the couch with a stern expression, and doesn’t move from her position.

I shoot her my angriest look, hoping it will break through her barrier and make her upset…but it doesn’t’ work.

“Go,” she mutters.

And I have no other choice. I sit down on the couch, and when I look up again Kerri is marching up the staircase; a stern expression on her face. I’m worried as hell. I know they don’t’ get along as it is. So if that’s the case I don’t see why Elisha would tell Kerri anything. I mean, it’s really my problem isn’t it? Trace and Elisha are having problems because of me…because of what I did with Shane. So then it’s my responsibility to fix things. But I don’t want Kerri to yell at me anymore, because I’m a little pussy who can’t take it. So I’ll just sit here and wonder and hope like hell that they won’t beat the living hell out of each other. And if they do…

I guess it’s just another thing I have to worry about.

*************

Even though I really hate to admit it, Elisha Cuthbert is one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. No hair on her head is ever out of place, and her figure and complexion are flawless. I’ve often wondered how Trace ever managed to get a girl like her to fall in love with him, since he’s such an ordinary looking guy. I know Justin hooked them up. They were friends first, and Justin decided that Elisha would be perfect for Trace; so he set them up on a date. I guess without Justin being there to blind her with his ego and charm, Elisha was able to see the real Trace shine through. That sweet caring guy, just looking for somebody to love him for him. I guess Elisha can’t be as stuck up as I’ve made herout to be, because Trace would never go for somebody like that…but still, I don’t know what he sees in the girl personality wise. She seems so cold and unforgiving. Or maybe its just because of the crazy shit going on in all of our lives. Who knows? I certainly don’t care. But I wish she could be a little nicer considering the circumstances as to why I’m here.

“I don’t know why you’re standing there,” Elisha grunts, and throws a drawer full of shirts into her suitcase. “Nothing you can say is going to fix this, Kerri. You’re not even a fucking part of this. Just…go downstairs and comfort Justin.” She straightens herself and laughs a little. “That’s your job isn’t it? To be his little babysitter?”

I glare at her. I don’t want to start something. I don’t’ want to tell her that Trace called me and poured his heart out to me about how he’s not in love with this woman anymore. It’s spiteful and a lousy way to act. I mean, I know I wouldn’t’ want anybody to throw my relationship with Justin in my face. But she’s just…god, a bitch. Who is she to tell me that I’m not a part of this? I’m totally a part of it. “You know, Trace called me today,” I spit out. “So you can stop talking me down and acting like I know nothing, Elisha.” I take a step toward her and smile a little, thankful that I got a nap in so I could be energized for this. “I know what happened.”

But her reaction isn’t at all what I expected. She doesn’t seem shocked, or phased, or…anything. She just keeps packing her clothes; almost like she’s known that I’ve known all along. “I knew he would,” she finally says. “Asshole can’t keep his mouth shut about anything.”

I glare at her. “You don’t’ need to talk about him that way. I understand that you fought and that you’re bitter. But…he’s my friend, and well…you haven’t really given me any reason to respect you so…”

“Respect!” she cuts me off, and takes a few steps towards me. “You want to know about respect Kerri? About…respecting your boyfriend even though he’s a fucking wreck who can barely fuction from day to day? About…trying to love him, even when he tells you that he doesn’t think he has room in his life for you anymore?” She presses her face close to mine, and I swallow back my anxiety. “I’ve put up with it,” she nods. “I’ve watched him cry, and puke, and dig himself into the ground every damn day since this whole thing started. And…” she pauses, and I can see the tears forming in her eyes, but she quickly sucks in a breath and they vanish. “I’m not doing it anymore.”

Part of me wants to feel sorry for her. I know she’s probably sacrificed a lot of her time, trying to hold her relationship together through this whole thing, without anybody else to support her. I guess I shouldn’t be acting like she has a nerve breaking up with Trace. He has too much on his mind to focus on her and I guess a girl like Elisha shouldn’t have to wait around like she has been. But then I think she’s being selfish. It’s not like they were simply dating. They were engaged to be married and that’s supposed to be a sacred thing. How could she just end it like that…and make Trace lose the what little happiness he had left in his life? “Can’t you think about this from Trace’s perspective?” I finally say. “He’s been working so hard trying to make everything okay again. Justin is his best friend…and I’m his best friend too. Like, god, I’m so fucking sorry that some psychos came and kidnapped us. And I’m fucking…sorry that Trace was stuck in the middle of it all. But what did you expect to happen after it was over Elisha? Did you think he was just going to forget about us and concentrate on you?”

She’s silent for awhile after that. She doesn’t move from her postion. She only stares at me, seemingly lost in thought. I almost wish I knew her better, so I could try to figure out what’s running through her mind right now. But I don’t know her…not at all.

“You don’t even know…what it’s been like.” She slowly sits down on the bed, and runs a perfectly manicured hand through her shiny blond mane. “He blames himself…every minute of every day. He wakes up screaming, and crying…and I’ve tried like fuckin hell to get him to talk about it with me. But he won’t talk to me, not at all.” She shakes her head, and then she chokes out a sob. “You can’t understand, he says. You don‘t know them like I do, he says. And then…he always tells me I don’t know what he did and that I can’t know…that nobody can know. What am I supposed to do when he’s acting that way all the time? I don’t even know him anymore,” she sobs. “And I can’t spend the rest of my life waiting for him to come around, Kerri. So don’t act like I’m the bad person!” she points to her chest, and then wipes the tears from her face with her hand. “Im just letting him off the hook,” she sniffles. “That’s what he needs right now. And…I love him, so I’m going to do it for him.”

She’s still in love with him, and the thought almost makes me happy but then…I know she’s never going to be with him again. Not because she doesn’t’ want to, but because Trace is so hurt by her walking out on him that he’ll never take her back. I feel a dull ache in the pit of my stomach, and I feel like I’m going to vomit. I…I feel like a home wrecker. Our tragedy tore Trace and Elisha apart, and even if they’re able to be friends again one day…they’ll never be as close as they once were. It’s nto fair. They’re the innocent ones. The ones that had to stand by and watch while their whole world crumbled down around them. I wish like hell I had some kind of superpower that could turn back time and make things right again. But this isn’t a televison show or a movie; this is reality and Elisha is moving on with her life. “Are you sure you can’t stick around for just a little while,” I ask her. “Maybe when he comes back home, he’ll have cleared his head a little.”

She sighs, and shakes her head. “It’s too late for that now.” She smiles sadly. “God knows…our last fight was the end all be all of fights for us. It’s just over, and that’s all. If I stay, we’ll only hurt each other more.”

For the first time in my life, I’m actually going to agree with her. She’s doing this to be fair…because she loves him, and it will be easier for Trace if he doesn’t have to worry about the burden of a relationship and a wedding in the back of his mind. It sucks for Elisha though, really bad. But if this experience has taught me anything, it’s how everybody is being made to suffer because of this thing. Not just the direct victims. I don’t know why…it’s fucking weird, but I actually hug her. I think she might pull away too, but then she embraces me too…like we’re old friends or something. I guess she can be mature. I guess…she’s not at all the person I’ve made her out to be. “I’m so sorry that…we caused…” I begin, once we let go of each other.

“No…no,” she shakes her head roughly. “Don’t ever blame yourself okay? It’s bad enough…what happened. I just want the three of you to be okay. I love Trace, and I love Justin. And well…I’ve really grown to respect you too Kerri, even though I had a fucked up way of showing it most of the time. I just…you’ve really been there for Justin, and Trace too. Promise me that you’ll take care of them okay?”

She’s putting all of her faith in me right now, and I want to tell her that I’m probably the least reliable person out of the three of us…but I don’t want to break her anymore than she is now. I need to wisen up, I realize. Stop drinking, stop hating myself, and just…focus. I need to focus. “I’ll try the best I can,” I nod. “But I want you to check in with me too…okay?”

She gives me another quick hug. “I will…but that’s just between us okay? I don’t want Trace thinking I’m still worrying about him. Don‘t tell him when I call…and don‘t tell Justin either. He‘ll just go tell Trace.”

I give her a confused look. “You don’t’ want him to know that you still care?”

She sighs. “I know it sounds weird…but no. I don’t want him thinking about me anymore. I just want him to get better. And if anybody can help him to get better…it’s you and Justin. Talk to him okay? Try to get him to tell you what the hell is going on with him.”

I shrug. “He’s just stressed, and he worries too much. Once the tour starts, I‘m sure…”

“No,“ she interrupts. “It’s something else Kerri. He’s…he’s tearing himself apart about something. I don’t know what he could have possibly done, but whatever it is…it’s bad.”

I know I could never pressure Trace into telling me something that’s troubling him. He always needs to feel like he’s in control of this situation. That he’s helping Justin…that he’s helping me, and that everything is running smoothly. I know that if I told him I knew something was going on with him too, he would just laugh it off and tell me that I should know why he’s stressed. I realize that Trace has been doing a really great job of hiding his feelings, only breaking down in emotional battles with Elisha…because she actually went there and pressured him until he broke down and screamed at her for being too pushy. “I’ll try,” I say, without much enthusiasm, and one look into Elisha’s eyes tells me that she doesn’t’ think I’m going to hold true to my promise.

“You better go back down there,” she nods. “Make sure Justin isn’t freaking out or anything.” She slowly stands up, and starts to pack her bags again; sobbing a little as she does so.

“Elisha…” I sigh.

“Take care of yourself, Kerri,” she says to me quietly.

And I know our conversation is finished.

Without another word, I leave her with her thoughts and I make my way downstairs again. Justin of course, is right where I left him on the sofa. But once he sets eyes on me, he immediately jumps up from his postion.

“Well?” he exclaims. “What happened? What’s she doing? What’d she say? Is she leaving…did she talk to Trace…did she…”

“Justin!” I yell, cutting off his rambling. “Just calm down okay? Sit down…take a breath, and calm down.”

He sits down, but he doesn’t calm down. He looks angry, confused, and scared all at the same time, and I can’t blame him. He really wanted this vacation to work out for Trace, and it kills me that I have to tell him that it didn’t work out at all…and that it’s not ever going to work out again. I don’t want to put him through more pain. He’s come so far, and today in the car…I felt so safe and protected with him beside me. Like, if anything or anybody tried to harm us he would have protected me to the best of his ability. I fell asleep…I never ever just fall asleep. He’s stronger than me now, I realize. A lot stronger. And I don’t want this thing with Trace to ruin that. Of course there’s a chance that it might not, but I know him…and I know how much he cares about Trace. For a moment I think…I just won’t tell him. But lying to him won’t do him any good. He’ll find out from Trace if he doesn’t find out from me, and then he’ll be mad that I didn’t’ tell him. So I do what I know I have to. I sit down next to him, take his hand, and look into his eyes. “I have to tell you something. But…I don’t want you to get all freaked out and worried okay?”

“They’re not together anymore.”

I stare at him in disbelief. I think he knew the truth from the moment Elisha walked in the door, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. “Justin…”

“Damn it.” He puts his head in his hands and sighs. “Why do I always fuck everybody’s life up, Kerri?”

“Justin.” I sigh and move closer to him. “This isn’t your fault. It’s just…all the tension has built up around them and they’ve just grown apart. It happens, and you can’t blame yourself and neither can I.”

He picks his head up and looks at me. “It wouldn’t have happened, if I didn’t have sex with Shane,” he whispers. “They’d still be together. I could have…stopped it.” He sobs a little. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to do it…”

I take both of my hands to his face and pull him towards me. “Listen to me,” I say seriously. “You need to stop blaming yourself for this…for Shane and what he did to you. He did it to you Justin. You did nothing wrong…you didn’t have sex with him.” I shake him a little to get my point across, all the while trying not to cry. “You were taken advantage of, and there’s nothing you could have done about it. Do you understand me, Justin? You did nothing wrong.” I shake my head a little, and manage a small smile. “Nothing.”

He pulls back from me after a while, but there is no evidence that my words have relieved him whatsoever. “They were supposed to get married,” he says, more to himself than to me. “And everything was fine. I was fine, Cam was fine…Trace and Elisha were fine. And you…you were fine too. Then one split fuckin second…that’s all it took and then…” he pauses and rubs his face with his hand. “God, I need to go talk to her,” he panics and rises from the sofa. “She’s making a mistake.”

He tries to walk away from me, but I grab his sleeve and stop him. “Justin, she knows what she’s doing. We just had a long talk and…”

“What do you know?” he snaps. “You weren’t even around when they started going out, Kerri. I’m the one that got them together, and…and I’m the only one that can fix this.”

“You can’t fix everything Justin!” I yell at him, even though I don’t want to. “This is out of your hands, okay? Elisha is doing the best thing she can for Trace, and you need to respect her decision. It’s her life.”

“Trace’ll never forgive me,” he whimpers. “He’s goin’ to come home and blame me for ruining his relationship.”

“He’s not going to blame you for anything.” I hate that Justin has to constantly be reassured about everything. He was always so sure of himself in the past. Nobody could tell him he was wrong, and if they did, he would find a way to make his opinion stand out above all else. He’s almost like a little child now. A little unconfident child that needs to be cared for and watched over. Almost like I was when I was little. Although I know my emotions are probably more out of whack than Justin’s this week, his mood right now is proving to me that he’s still extremely messed up, and he still needs me to do what I was brought out here to do for him. “You know Trace wouldn’t do that.”

He bites his lip, and clenches his fists nervously. ‘I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know, Ker.”

“Look.” I pull him into a hug, and I can feel him trembling all over. “We’ll call Trace tomorrow and talk to him about all of this okay? Tonight though, you need to relax. You know, the people from the alarm company are coming tomorrow and I know you want to be your best for them…right?”

He pulls back from me after a moment. He seems a little less worried, which is a good thing. I just hope it lasts. “You promise we’ll call tomorrow?,” he whispers.

I shoot him a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

He let’s me take him upstairs, and trys to con me into letting him into Trace’s room so he can ‘say goodbye’ to Elisha. But I’m not that naïve, and I tell him that he needs h is rest. Surprisingly he agrees, but I guess this day has been stressful enough with me crying on him like I did…that he figures he should get some sleep. So we go in his room, and I give him his toothbrush and the toothpaste so he can clean up. When he emerges from the room, he yawns loudly and smiles a little before he crawls into his bed.

“Night,” I smile before I turn out the light.

“Kerri.”

I groan a little. “God, what now?”

“If you have a nightmare…you can sleep with me, okay?”

I’m stunned that he would even offer. I know one of the biggest reason’s he’s so uncomfortable around me is because I’m a girl, and I guess he doesn’t know how he feels about girls at this stage. It’s a big step for him to even tell me that, and I’m proud of him. I know he’s making progress. “Thanks,” I whisper.

“Seriously,” he says. “I don’t want you freaking out and not sleeping like you’ve been. It’s not good Ker.”

He sounds like the Justin I used to be in love with, and that scares me. The tone of his voice…the way it sounds like he cares about me so much makes me want to believe it more than anything. But I don‘t want to, because I know it can’t be real. Justin isn’t that Justin anymore. Sure, he has his good moments…like right now, but I know in the morning he’ll be back to his usual crappy self again. “Goodnight, Justin.” It’s all I can manage to say.

He’s silent for a long time, and I almost think that he’s fallen asleep; but then I hear him speak up again.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you afraid of me,” he says quietly. “But I want to work it out with us all right? I want to help you with whatever it is that your going through…because hell, you’ve helped me more than I can even tell you. So just…give me another chance…please. Let’s just put the bad shit behind us, and try to be friends.”

I bite down on the corner of my lip. The medicine, yeah. His medicine is making him say stupid sentimental things to me that he wont even remember in the morning. And if he won’t remember, then I guess it can’t hurt to just agree with him so he’ll go to sleep already. “Okay, Justin,” I say finally.

“Okay.”

I can hear him smile, and I stand in the doorway a little longer until I’m sure he’s asleep. Then I silently tip toe out the door and close it behind me gently. Don’t forget about me, I think to myself, but then I snap out of it. I can’t think about it anymore…about anything. I just need to sleep on all of this. Right, and when I wake up I’m sure I’ll have all the answers like I’m supposed to. Well…that’s if I can even get to sleep. But it couldn’t be that hard. I mean, I slept for hours before without having a nightmare. All I have to do is clear my head…not think about anything, and I’ll be fine. I close my eyes for a moment, and test myself in the darkness.

My eyes fly open. God. No…anything but Nathan. Not tonight.

Who am I kidding? I’m not getting any sleep tonight.

“I hope they aren’t stealing my shit.”

“They aren’t stealing anything, Justin.”

“Because I have some pretty expensive stuff.”

“I know.”

“What if they poison my food?”

I barely notice that the light is red, because I’m too busy listening to Justin’s paranoid ramblings as to why we shouldn’t have left the alarm people alone in his house to install the system. I slam on my breaks, and the car squeals to a stop. “God.” I grunt in frustration. “Nobody is going to do anything to any of your things!” I yell. “Just sit the hell back and relax. We’re going…to have…an enjoyable afternoon!”

Silence.

I let out a long breath, and sit up a little straighter in my seat. The light changes again after a few moments, and I accelerate forward again. Thankfully, Justin doesn’t start complaining again. But I still glance at him every so often to see if he looks worried. He does. I’m not going to start in on him again though, not now. I want him nice and relaxed when we meet Tiny at the store. Because if Tiny thinks he’s tense, he’s going to make us go right back home. Hell, this is the first time Justin has agreed to go out and shop since he got out of the clinic. It shocked me that he agreed to leave the house today. But I guess all the noise was getting on his nerves as much as it was getting on mine. We decided to hit some of the stores on Rodeo, because it’s where Justin would be the most comfortable. People that shop around here aren’t as likely to stop and try to talk to him…they’re too rich and snobby to care.

Ten minutes later we pull up in front of Iceberg, and I spot Tiny standing outside the building speaking to another man…seemingly a member of the staff. I look over at Justin. “You ready?” I ask.

But he’s frozen in his seat.

“Justin?” I laugh nervously and shake him a little.

“Take me home,” he whispers. “I don’t’ know him…do you know him Kerri?’

I look over at the man speaking with Tiny. Of course I don’t know him, but maybe I can convince Justin that I do so he’ll get out of the car. I know he needs to do this for himself. He needs to get out and start facing the world again, if he ever hopes to get over his paranoia. “Yeah, I know him. I spoke to him on the phone earlier about you coming here.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You know, you’re lying is worse than Trace’s.” He crosses his arms stubbornly and looks straight ahead. “I don’t like this,” he says. “I know I said I did. I know I said it would be fun to go out together and stuff…but I just…I didn’t realize it would be so scary,” he whimpers. “I want to go back.”

I turn off the engine and lean back in my seat. “What will going home solve? You’ll just hide away in your room because you’re scared of the alarm installer people.” I roll my eyes. “How are you going to go on a big tour and perform for total strangers if you cant even face a couple of store clerks?”

“I’ll…I’ll be better then,” he informs me. “Trace will be here, and my mom will be around. And I’ll have at least a dozen security people with me…”

I cut him off. “A dozen?” I shake my head. “Justin…it’s just a little club tour. You don’t need a militia traveling with you,” I chuckle. “You need to calm down okay?”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he grumbles. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been a lot more psychotic than me this week.”

I laugh. “What about next week? Should we have a contest? Should I have Trace start taking bets on who’s going to lose their mind first?”

“I’m really glad you’ve turned this all into one big joke,” he snaps. “Christ, just tell Tiny we’re going home so we can get the hell out of here already.”

I’m not going to let him have his way. I shouldn’t. I mean, I think I deserve some sane shopping time too, even though Iceberg charges like…five hundred dollars for a pair of sunglasses. But hey, I have my debit card, and it has enough money on it to last an entire school semester. I think it’s time I spoiled myself a little…yeah. I smile. “We can leave when I finish spoiling myself,” I giggle, not caring about Justin’s insecurities anymore. Damn, Trace would be pissed. I know he would be. And when we call him later on today, I’m sure Justin will bitch and moan to him about what a horrible person I am. But for now…I’m not going to care. I open the car door, and Tiny immediately comes over to us.

“Hey.” He leans down and pokes his head inside the car. “You guys ready? They’re closing up shop for three hours. Nobody’s gonna bother you.”

I look back over at Justin, thinking that this information might have changed his attitude. But he still has the same stubborn look on his face.

“Tell her to take me home,” he whines.

Tiny gives me an odd look. “What’s wrong with him?,” he grunts. “He was raring to go this morning…got my ass out of bed all early and shit.”

I sigh. “He’s just…” And then I look at Tiny again. I can tell he knows exactly what’s wrong now, and I hope he’ll say something encouraging to change Justin’s attitude.

“Look man,” he sighs. “These people went out of their way to set up the day for you. The least you can do is go in and look around for a little while. I promise, I’m gonna be here the whole time. You don’t…” he pauses, and rubs his eyes a little. “You don’t have to be afraid, okay?”

It’s weird to see Tiny get sentimental, because he’s so big and usually very serious. But he’s also like family to Justin, and I know he has a lot of influence over him too. I look back to Justin, and this time the stubborn look on his face isn’t as intense. “Come on,” I persist. “It’ll be fun. We can try on all the sunglasses like we used to when…” But I cut my speech short. I know I cant’ start rambling about the past right now. It will bring on too many emotions. And then I’ll probably want to go home too.

“Fine,” he moans and takes off his seatbelt. “But just for an hour or so.”

I smile triumphantly, and we get out of the car together. Justin sticks to Tiny’s side like a child as we take the short walk from the car to the store’s entrance. The man Justin was terrified of smiles and welcomes us, before opening the door. Then we get inside, and it’s like a dream world. The store is perfect. Nothing is out of place or out of order. There are no other shoppers, only a smiling sales woman positioned by a rack of clothes. But Justin doesn’t notice anything. In fact, the only thing that he does notice…is that Tiny hasn’t followed us into the store.

“Where‘s Tiny?,” he asks. His eyes are wide, frightened, and I can hear him start to breath in and out rapidly. “Where is he?”

“Justin.” I take his trembling hand and look into his eyes. “He’s right outside, watching the door. We’re fine…” I stop and look at the saleswoman again. “Come on, let’s go see what she’s pulled out for you to try on.”

He sucks in a breath. “Why are you so calm?,” he whispers.

I shrug. “Because I have to be.”

He looks at the floor. “Sorry I’m such a pussy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him, using the most reassuring tone I can manage.. “Let’s just go over there and act like idiots.”

He looks up at me and smiles. “Like we used to?”

“Yeah,” I chuckle nervously. “Like we used to.” I try to lead him over to the rack of clothes, but he stops me before I can take more than a step.

“Kerri.”

“Yeah?”

Then he smiles again. It’s a genuine smile, a thankful one. “I’m glad that you’re here.” Then he hugs me…close and warm. And I don’t even know how to react. It’s so weird. His moods are so jumpy. It confuses me and I hate being confused…

“Justin…”

But he smiles and pulls me forward before I can tell him all of that. And by the time we reach the rack of clothes, the lady already has him talking up a storm and laughing at all of her pointless comments and jokes. Then we’re both handed piles of clothes to try on, most of which I know I’ll never be able to afford in my lifetime…but I’ll try them for Justin’s sake.

Just like everything else I do.

**************

I really love clothes. Actually, I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed shopping for clothes until today. I can’t believe I’ve been out of the scene for so long that I forgot what it was like to browse and try on and decide what I like and what I don’t. I love to be fussed over too. Like, this lady Bianca that’s helping us is great. I barely have to ask for anything…she just knows, and it’s so fucking cool. We’ve been shopping for a little over an hour now, and I’ve already piled up at least two piles of clothes that I’m going to be purchasing. I never realized spending my money could be such a great stress reliever. It’s amazing; I’ve barely been thinking about how nervous I am…or that somebody might break in here and get me. No, I’ve been too busy trying on all these jeans and shirts and jackets and sunglasses. I’ve been having fun. Damn, I can actually say that…for the first time in what seems like years.

I’ve been having fun watching Kerri too.

I love how she can try on all these clothes, love them, and put them back with no regrets. I feel bad that she’s not as rich as I am. I’ve always felt that way. Hell, if she would let me I would buy her everything she wanted today…but I know she won’t. Kerri has never been like that, and when we used to go shopping in the past, I used to have to sneak things that she liked in with the stuff that I was buying so she wouldn’t realize I’d bought them for her until later. Then it was too late. She always tried to act like she was mad at me, but I could always tell that she wasn’t. She was so grateful for everything that I ever gave her, and I think that’s why I loved being around her so much. She was my friend. One that would never use me for my money or my fame and I loved that about her. I could be Justin with her, and to this day I think Trace and her are still the only ones I feel I can be myself with…especially now, with the Butt Sex and all.

I study myself in the mirror. No shirt on, jeans with a cool little belt that Bianca picked for me before. I suck in. I need to lose more weight. I know I should be working out more, with a tour coming up. And I think once Trace gets back I will. I rub my hands on my stomach. Flab. Fat. I can hear Johnny’s voice in the back of my mind now… You can’t let the camera beat you. God. If it’s not one thing plaguing me, it’s another.

“Justin.”

I hear Kerri’s voice at the door, and I snap out of it. I throw the shirt on that matches the jeans I’m wearing and study myself again. “Yeah?”

“Justin you need to see this shirt on me!” she squeals. “God, I love it…but I’d kill myself if I bought it. It’s costs as much as a third world country.”

I laugh. “I doubt it’s that much Ker.”

“What are you trying on?”

“The faded wash with the polo and the black blazer.”

“Ooo,” she coos excitedly. “I wanna see it.”

I pull the black blazer on and give myself the once over. Do I look gay? Is it gay to have as big of a fashion sense as I do? That’s a sign of homosexuality isn’t it? Like you see that…in gay guys. I shake my head roughly. God stop it, show Kerri a good time. Focus on Kerri. I open the door, and step out of the dressing room.

“Whoa!” she exclaims. “Justin, you are so red carpet ready right now,” she giggles. “You need to get that outfit too.” She looks back at Bianca. “Add it to his pile.”

Bianca giggles. “Will do. Justin, I have more for you to try on in the back. I’ll be out with them in just a moment.” She hurries away to get the clothes, leaving Kerri and I to ourselves.

“So isn’t this top hot?” Kerri does a little twirl for me and I smile.

It’s a nice silk blouse. A little off the shoulders. It laces at the top and comes down to just above her navel. I feel my face turn red, and it confuses me so I quickly look away from her tanned stomach. “It’s nice, Ker. I like the little off the shoulder thing it’s got goin on.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and it’s only seven hundred dollars.”

“Well see…that’s not as much as a third world country.” I laugh. “More like, a little village with straw huts.”

“Straw huts?” She laughs and picks a pair of sunglasses off the rack and slides them on. “Am I Rodeo enough?” she says in a dramatic voice.

I shove my hands in my pockets. “You look nice,” I say nervously. This whole thing has me on edge right now. She’s acting like…everything is okay. And even though I told her that I’m glad she’s here and everything; which I am, it’s still weird to be laughing and joking with her. This is how it used to be with us. We were best friends that did everything together. I guess I’ve missed it a lot…missed her a lot. Like, the Kerri back at the house isn’t the same one that’s here with me now. This one is laid back, normal, and care free. It’s confusing me more than she’ll ever know, and I wish I could tell her…I really do. But I don’t’ feel like spoiling the afternoon with serious shit. “Let me buy it for you,” I say.

She takes off the sunglasses, and shakes her head. “No way are you spending seven hundred…no…” she pauses and looks at the tag on the glasses. “Make that twelve hundred dollars, on me.”

I smile a little and take the glasses from her. “Come on, you like them…and it’s not like I’m hurting for money,” I say. “Besides, I owe you. So just let me.”

“Owe me?” she laughs, and picks up a pair of jeans from one of the tables. “You don’t owe me anything.” She opens up the jeans and holds them in front of herself. “God look at that embroidered rose. That’s so pretty.”

For the longest time, I’ve been trying to come up with a way of paying Kerri back for putting her through the kidnapping with me. I’ve felt so guilty. Like, all that pain and torture she went through was never meant for her in the first place. It was meant for me, and only me. “Yeah…” I lick my lips and clear my throat. “I owe you.”

She stares at me, and the look on her face is telling me that she knows what I’m talking about. “Justin, please don’t’ start in with this now,” she whispers, and puts the jeans down. “We’re having fun.”

“Why is it so bad that I want to do something nice for you?” I say. I’m getting a little aggravated right now, because she’s not letting me have my way. I hate not being in control of little things like this, because I’ve lost control of so many other things in my life already. “I mean, I haven’t really given you anything in three years but a bunch of pain you didn’t need to deal with.”

“Justin…”

“Here we are!” Bianca’s voice silences us both, and I force a smile and look over at her.

“Oh thanks,” I nod. “Um, you think you can give us a little time alone?”

Kerri clears her throat. “Oh that’s stupid. Bianca…you can stay, really.”

Bianca seems torn, and I feel bad for throwing her in the middle of our situation. I know she knows who I am, and I’m sure she’s seen the news and knows about Kerri and what happened to us. But she’s too professional to say anything. “Actually I do have some paperwork I need to work with. How about I come back in forty five with some refreshments?” she offers.

“Sounds great,” I say quickly before Kerri can voice her objections.

Bianca nods and hurries away again, but Kerri doesn’t seem happy about it. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at me. “You know, we can’t even have a laid back afternoon without you bringing everything else into it, Justin. God you know, I want to forget about it…don’t you?”

Of course I want to forget, but my experience was a million times worse than Kerri’s was. I don’t’ think she really understands the magnitude of it all. That I had to deal with Shane on a much more extreme level than she had to. That I can’t just push it all out of my head as easily as she can. “You know I can’t,” I grumble.

She lets out an aggravated sigh. “We should just go,” she mutters, and puts the jeans back on the table. “Before we end up fighting and it ends up all over People magazine. I’m going to go change.” With a loud huff, she turns around and marches back toward her dressing room.

“Kerri, come on,” I groan.

“No,” she snaps. “I hate this. This whole week has been the same thing. Problem after problem. Why can’t we just not think about everything for one damn day?”

I could start to yell, and tell her that she started this whole thing when she got drunk. But I’m tired of referring back to that all the time. I’m tired of a lot of things. Remembering…trying not to remember…trying to be normal. I’m tired of pretending to be somebody I’m not when my mom and my other friends call. I want to come out, and tell them all who I really am. Suddenly only having two people and a shrink know who I truly am isn’t enough anymore. I have to be proud of who I am…gay, freak, straight…whatever I am. But that’s easier said then done. “You should talk,” I manage a mellow tone. “I mean, you’ve been a wreck this whole week. Hell, worse than me most of the time; and suddenly Elisha comes and automatically you’re miss maturity again? Come on Kerri. I can see right through your fucking act.” I cross my arms confidently across my chest, and stare at her. I’m waiting for her to break down and tell me that I’m right, and that our lives will never be normal. That when we go out like this, we’ll constantly be looking over our shoulders, and wondering if it could ever happen to us again.

But she doesn’t’ say anything like that.

“I’m buying this shirt,” she nods. “At least that way, one good thing will come out of the day.”

“You can’t afford it,” I scoff.

“Yes I can.” She glares at me. “I have an entire semesters worth of school supply money on my debit card. You know, it would be gone…but instead I’m out here with you.”

“Nobody is forcing you to stay,” I whisper. “I thought you wanted to be here.”

This time she doesn’t answer me. She simply marches into her dressing room, and comes out about five minutes later with the shirt draped over one of her arms. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m really here,” she finally says. “Because I feel guilty…or because I really care, Justin.”

I’m hurt, I can’t deny that. I mean, I thought she really cared, and I thought I was starting to care about her a lot more too. But I guess it was silly of me to think that way, because it’s obvious that she’s still just as confused about our friendship as I am. “I guess you’ll have to figure it out.” I scratch the top of my head, and try not to look at her. I don’t want to give any of my feelings away right now. “You wanna go?”

She nods.

Kerri gets Bianca’s attention, while I call Tiny to tell him we’re on our way out. I can hear some noise in the background while I’m talking to him, and he sounds a little nervous; but I know better than to ask any questions. If something is going on, I’m sure he’ll handle it before we come out of the store. I feel my hands start to tremble a little, at the thought that there might be a crowd outside…but I quickly push the thought out of my mind. I gotta calm down.

“Seven hundred sixteen dollars and fifty two cents.” Bianca smiles at Kerri as she bags the shirt. “Are you sure you don’t want me to find you a pair of slacks to go with that, dear?”

Kerri laughs nervously. “I think I’m all set.” She slides her card through the reader, wincing as she does so. I know she doesn’t really have that kind of money to spend on a shirt, but I guess she was trying to show me up…or something? I don’t know why. I told her I would have paid for it. Hell, she deserves it.

“Oh.” Bianca frowns and looks at her computer screen more closely. “I’m sorry ma’am, it will just be a moment. I just have to call this in.”

“Call it in?” Kerri cocks her head to the side, and glances at me quickly. “What’s the matter?”

“Just hold one moment.” Bianca picks up her phone, and dials the number on the back of the card.

“Kerri,” I say finally. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t’ have the money. If you really want the shirt, I’ll…”

“I told you I have the money,” she says harshly. “I don’t’ need your charity money, Justin.”

I frown, but I don’t say anything else. She’s annoyed. At the day…that her credit card isn’t going through, and anything else that I can say will only aggravate her more. “Fine,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Bianca says a moment later. “But your card seems to have been deactivated.”

“What?” Kerri laughs nervously and takes her card back from Bianca. “How can that be? There was at least two thousand dollars on it the last time I checked.”

“I don’t know, ma’am,” Bianca sighs. “That’s what the company just told me. Do you have another form of payment?”

“What…,” she shakes her head roughly and pinches the bridge of her nose. “No…no I don’t.”

Obviously, Kerri had no idea that something was going on with her account. I wish I knew what to tell her, but I really have no idea. I don’t see how she could have maxed it, because I know she hasn’t been shopping at all since she’s been out here. “Maybe it’s a mistake.” I try to sound encouraging.

She shoves her card back into her wallet and steps away from the counter. “It’s not a mistake.” Her voice quivers a little, and I know this goes a hell of a lot deeper than simply shopping too much.

“You’ll take these then Mr. Timberlake?” Bianca pulls my piles of clothes in front of her, and smiles as if nothing has happened.

“Oh…yeah,” I sigh and dig out my wallet. “We’ll take the shirt too.” I look over my shoulder, and wait for Kerri to protest, but she doesn’t. She’s sitting in a chair a few feet away, her head buried in her hands. I’m getting the feeling that her parents have something to do with this, and I feel so naïve and stupid. Up until now I thought everything was fine with Kerri and her parents. But how could everything be okay? She dropped out of school, to come out here and live with me. She has no guarantee of a job next year, her future is uncertain. I’m sure her parents are livid, and so…they’ve done this in an attempt to make her come home. It’s really unfair, because they don’t understand the whole picture. In fact, they’ve never seemed to understand anything when it’s come to Kerri and me.

It’s bullshit that she has to be pressured by her family when she’s already dealing with so much. I gotta talk to her later. I have to make her understand that she doesn’t have to worry, and that I’m going to be able to provide her with whatever she needs. I don’t’ care if we’re fighting, or if we‘re still uncomfortable around each other. She’s like…she’s like family, and I’m going to treat her accordingly. It’s not a decision, it’s a priority.

“Are you sure, sir?”

I manage to smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

************

There were photographers waiting for us outside of Iceberg, and I thought that Justin was about to have a heart attack. My mind was clouded with so much confusion and frustration though, that I couldn’t comfort him. Tiny had to do most of the work…leading the both of us through the crowd, and trying as hard as he could not to let the photographers get any shots of Justin. He did a pretty good job, but the whole experience was still horrible. Once we were safely inside the car, Justin started to freak out and cry, blubbering something about how they were trying to touch him…and I couldn’t do anything for him but sit there and watch. Normally, I would have forced myself to comfort him and calm him down. But I just couldn’t focus on him then. I couldn’t focus on anything. I was so mad, practically in a rage…hell, I’m still mad…

My father had no right to do what he did.

I called the credit card company as soon as we got back to the house, and tried to figure out what was going on; even though I already had a pretty good idea of what happened. They told me that the account had been deactivated two days ago by a Kyle Donovan, who happens to be my father. He did it to trap me…to put fear in me so I’ll come home. He figures if he cuts off my money supply, I’ll have no other choice. And I guess I don’t. I mean, I can’t just live off of Justin, that wouldn’t’ be right. I have to be able to provide for myself…

So I guess I should start making plans to leave for Tennessee as soon as Trace gets back.

I peek into the living room, to check on Justin quickly. He’s fine; sitting on the sofa, staring at the TV screen. He still looks uncomfortable of course, but I don’t blame him. He’s calm for the most part. “Hey…the chicken will be ready soon,” I tell him.

He looks over at me. “All right,” he says softly.

“Are you okay?”

He shrugs. “I’ll get there.” He manages a small smile for me, but it doesn’t put my mind at ease. “What about you?,” he asks. “Did you…get the thing sorted out with your credit card?”

I can’t tell him what’s going on, because if I do, it will make him more stressed and I can’t do that to him today. It’s going to have to wait, but then again…I always seem to toss my problems on the backburner when it comes to Justin. “Oh…yeah,” I laugh a little. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure? Because you know…you can tell me if you’re having problems, Kerri.”

I stare at him. He seems to genuinely care what’s going on with me. I feel like I can tell him, and he’ll have a good answer for me, just like he always used to. I tend to forget though, that Justin isn’t that same person he used to be. He’s changed, and right now he’s still mentally unstable. No, I don’t need to saddle him with my problems. I don’t. “I…”

“Now you’re gonna deny it.” He flashes me a knowing smile. A moment later he gets up from the sofa, and slowly makes his way across the room until he’s standing right in front of me. “And you’re gonna tell me not to worry and that everything is fine. Then you’re going to go in the kitchen and try to figure out how the hell you got into this mess in the first place.”

I shrug, but I know I cant’ lie to him. He’s intimidating when he’s standing right in front of me, so tall muscular and strong. Of course I feel protected, but at the same time I almost feel threatened. Like if I don’t tell him what’s going on, he’ll fly into a rage. Maybe that’s ridiculous. I mean, Justin definitely isn’t the abusive type. But I guess everything else has me so fucked up and afraid of the world, I can’t feel completely safe no matter where I am. “You’ve had a bad enough afternoon without me bringing my problems into it,” I whisper. “I can just…call Trace.” I wince a little. I’m sure it hurts him to know that I’d rather talk to Trace about all of this than him.

“Trace is going to be a mess,” he nods. “You wanna deal with his depressed ass then go ahead, but I don’t see why you’re going to go out of your way like that when I’m standing right here.”

He’s right. The most Trace will do is tell me not to worry about it…that he’ll fix in. And then he’ll go into a twenty minute ramble about how much of a bitch Elisha is and how everything is his fault. That will lead into a conversation that I’m not in the mood for at all. The alternative? Talk to Justin, or simply keep my feelings locked inside of me. I don’t want to do either, but I know I’ll go crazy if I don’t choose one or the other. I sigh heavily. It will make me feel a million times better if I tell him everything, I know that. But it makes me feel selfish…like my problems are bigger than Justin’s, which they’re not.

“Come on.” He tugs on my hand. “Please Ker, talk to me.”

I whimper a little, but I don’t stop him from pulling me over to the sofa. We sit down, and he flicks off the television. “I don’t’ want to tell you, because I don’t want you to be stressed out any more. I just want you to get better,” I whisper. “You deserve it.”

“Kerri look,” he pauses, and licks his lips. “I’ve…I’ve come a real long way since we got out of that place and came back home. Of course I’m still scared of a lot of things, and yeah…I flip out real easily. But Ker…I mean, I went out today. I shopped. I haven’t done that since before everything happened.” He looks into my eyes, and shoots me a warm smile. “And I couldn’t have done it without you there. Hell, I don’t think I could have gotten through half this shit without you, and…I’m so thankful that you’ve sacrificed so much for me, even when I acted like I didn’t want you around. So…let me do you a favor now okay? Let me talk to you, like you’ve talked to me. Let me help you with your problems.”

I feel a single tear crawl down my face, and I quickly wipe it away. “I don’t’ know…I don’t know what to do,” I say finally. My bottom lip quivers, and I bite down on it to make it stop. “Everything is such a mess, Justin,” I whisper.

“What happened to your money?”

There’s a knowing look in his eyes, and I’m pretty sure he’s guessed that my parents have something to do with this. So I decide not to hold back. There’s no point. “My parents don’t get why I’m here…especially my father. And we haven’t really been talking, because I told them I wasn’t going to come back home. So I guess my father got pissed, and decided to deactivate my card,” I tell him. “And now, I have no money. And if I don’t have any money, I can’t…I can’t provide for myself,” I sob. “I guess I’m going to have to go back home, Justin.” I rub my face with my hands, and shake my head. “But I don’t want to because I know you need me, and Trace is going to need me…”

“Shh,“ He silences me, and takes my hands in his. “Listen, the last thing you need to worry about is money, okay? I’m here, and I can help you and give you whatever you need.”

“No,” I groan. “I’m not going to be a freeloader Justin. I’m not going to have money thrown at me.” I tug my hands from his and sit back, crossing my arms across my chest.

“You’re family,” he says after a moment. “My family. And my family is the most precious thing in the world to me, you know that. I’m not going to stand by and make you go back to your parents house. I know they don’t get what happened, Kerri. And going back down there will kill you, I know it will. I…I made a mistake three years ago.” His voice cracks a little, and it causes me to look at him. “I know I did. But, I can make it up to you now, can’t I?”

I can’t answer him, because I seem to have lost the ability to speak right now. He’s acting so mature, so caring…like the guy I used to know. Justin, the guy who had it all together. The only one that could ever understand me. Is he back? And if he is, can I trust him to stick around? I don’t have an answer. I’m uncertain. I don’t want to get hurt again…not like that. “I want to trust you,” I finally manage to say.

“But you can’t,” he says for me.

I meet his gaze again. His eyes are fierce, intense, making the blue in them as deep as a stormy ocean.. “I’m afraid…that you’ll leave me behind.”

“No…” He pulls me close to him before I can stop him. “I would never…never do that to you again.” I feel his lips brush against my forehead, and my mind is screaming at me to get out while I can; but my heart won’t let me leave his side. “You gotta believe me, Kerri. Please believe me,” he pleads. “You’re too important to lose a second time.”

I believe him. For the first time in three years, I feel like I can. Like I can put all of my faith and hope and love into him like I used to, an that he’ll always be around to help me with whatever I need. I guess everybody should get a second chance, even Justin. Right now, it doesn’t seem to matter what he did…what I did, the things we said to each other. I just…I need him to be here. I need to sit like this with him for awhile, and I need him to tell me he’s always going to be here for me. I wrap my arms around his torso, and I lean into his chest. It feels so good. So good, that it’s hard to believe that it’s really happening. “I believe you,” I tell him a moment later, and I look up into his eyes.

He smiles, and touches my face with his hand. “Things are going to change,” he tells me. “We just have to keep our heads up, and try our best to not go insane,” he chuckles. “But…I think we can help each other, right?”

“We’ve come this far,” I half smile. “Why not try to go all the way?”

********************

This evening has been so normal, it’s almost nauseating. There haven’t been any problems, or temper tantrums, or dramatic moments. Actually, the only problem of the evening is that its been pouring down rain for the last hour. Kerri and I ended up on the couch in front of the television, eating the kick ass dinner she prepared. We watched Jeopardy and screamed out answers even if we didn’t know them, like we’ve been doing since we were able to understand what the game was all about. It was fun, laid back, normal…until the phone rang.

Of course it was Trace. Of course he was pretending that he was more stable than me. And of course he was asking me every damn question under the sun. I wanted to tell him to shut the hell up and tell me what happened with him and Elisha; but I didn’t’ want to just blurt that out I know it’s a sensitive subject, and I’m sure he doesn’t’ want me to know anything until he comes back on Sunday. So I didn’t bring it up, in hopes that he would wisen up and confide in me like he’s always done. But of course, Elisha’s name didn’t enter our conversation once. All he could talk about was me, and business…and that Johnny’s been calling him for the past couple of days. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to think about the business side of things when I didn’t have to…so I simply passed the phone off to Kerri. She seemed nervous when she took the call, and even went so far as to take it into the other room so I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I didn’t ‘let it get to me though. The only reason Kerri wouldn’t’ want me to hear their conversation, is because it would upset me. She’s looking out for me…

And I trust her.

I’ve been toying around with the remote that came with my new alarm system. It’s pretty cool, really state of the art, and I know Trace is gonna get a kick out of everything it can do once he comes home and sees it. It controls everything. I can set the code. I can turn my lights on and off. I can send a silent panic alert out to the company if somebody tries to break in. I can even control the new surveillance cameras I had installed with it. Damn, I’m gonna sleep with this thing under my pillow. It’s perfect. I’m totally protected now, and nobody is ever going to be able to get to me again. Maybe I can talk momma and daddy into getting this same thing put into their houses, so when I go down there I wont have to worry either. Yeah…

“Hey. You want some?”

I look over my shoulder, and I smile when I see Kerri standing there, a carton of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream in one hand, two spoons in another. “Oh yeah,” I nod. “Bring it on girl.”

She grins devilishly. “Let’s eat it out of the box!”

I laugh. “Remember that night…we ate a whole box of this shit on the bus ride to Toronto.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh my god.” She plops down beside me again, and laughs as she rips the top off the box. “We were stoned, Justin.”

“Stoned?” I chuckle. “Girl, we were more than stoned.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “And Trace got pissed because we snuck off and didn’t tell him what we were doing,” she giggles.

She hands me a spoon, and I smile. “A toast to…” I pause, and we both raise our spoons in the air. “Uh…”

“Getting back to fucking reality,” she smiles.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” We clink our spoons together and dig in. I take some on my spoon and shove it in my mouth. “Shit,” I groan with pleasure, savoring the chocolaty goodness. “This is a great idea.”

“This is calorie hell,” she points out, once she’s downed her third spoonful. “And I haven’t done a thing since I’ve been out here but sit on my ass.”

“We can go to the gym tomorrow,” I offer. “I haven’t’ been in awhile, and I really need to start getting my act together if we‘re gonna tour.”

Kerri leans back into the sofa, and licks her spoon. “Are you scared? You know…about getting back out there again?”

Not scared. Fucking terrified. But I don’t want to be. This is my career at stake, and I know I have to tour in order to keep my name out there. Besides, from what my mother has been telling me, the ticket sales have been going excellent. I mean, I know it’s only little clubs that I’ve sold out but still…for me to go through something like this and still have a dedicated fan base says a lot. And I’m not going to disappoint my public. “Maybe a little,” I sigh, and shove more ice cream in my mouth. “But I’m going to go through with it no matter what. You know, I have an obligation to everybody.”

She looks down at her lap. “Trace says I should go on tour with you.”

Of course Kerri will tour with me. I figured that was the original plan all along. Maybe she never got the whole picture though, because I never explained it to her. But I wasn’t really in the state of mind to talk about stuff like that with her before. “Well…yeah,” I say. “Of course you’re gonna come. and we’ll do the club thing. Then we’ll have Thanksgiving in Tennessee, do a few more shows, and have Christmas in Florida with my dad. And in January we’ll go over to the UK for a few shows…”

She gasps. “The UK?”

I smile a little. I know traveling overseas is something that Kerri has always wanted to do, and I’ve always wanted to give her the chance. Up until now, her parents always put their foot down when it came to Kerri leaving the country with me. But now she’s an adult, and she can make her own decisions. I would love to take here there with me…let her see the world, and allow her to explore places she’s never been before. Maybe…maybe that could be my little pay back. My little gift to her, for all the shit she’s been put through, and all the things she’s sacrificed for me. “Yeah. You wanna go right?”

“Justin…I…” She pauses, seemingly at a loss for words. “Of course I want to go. But I just…I can’t really afford to…”

“Kerri,” I cut her off. “What did I tell you before? Money isn’t an issue okay? I just…I want you with me, and that’s all. Just forget about everything else. Your parents, and their fucked up priorities. They need to understand that you’re not going to get better if you sit around and dwell on everything. You need to get out and see things and do things. I think that this is gonna be a great experience for you Ker. And you know, you‘ll get a lot of communications experience this way too. Besides, how many people our age can say they’ve worked with a major recording artist before they’ve graduated college?”

“Thank you Mr. Ego,” she laughs.

“Well…what? That’s what I am. And I‘m awesome too,” I wink.

Her expression grows serious, and for a moment, she stares at me in disbelief.

“Kerri?” I ask. “You okay?”

“Yeah.“ She flashes me a soft smile. “You just…this is the first time you’ve really talked about yourself in a positive way since…everything happened,” she points out.

I didn’t even realize. Weird. But I’m sort of proud of myself I guess. Yeah, I am. I’m proud to be me right now. I feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth, and before I know it, I’m grinning from ear to ear. Its something I haven’t done in a long, long ass time. I’m a little confused by it too, but I’m not going to let it drive me crazy. “I did didn’t I?”

She hugs me, and I allow myself to hold her tighter than I have in a long time. I don’t know how I’m not nervous about it, because she’s touching me and normally I have a hard time with that. But this is Kerri, and I guess things are different with her. I trust her. She’s not going to try to feel me up or make out with me, and she knows what’s going on with me. She knows that I might be gay; but she’s not bothered by it. I’m safe in her arms. I can just…be me.

BOOM

A loud clap of thunder rumbles loudly from outside, causing the room to shudder a little. I suck in a breath, and maintain my composure so I won’t freak out in front of Kerri…

But I don’t think she would notice if I started to right now.

“Make it stop! Please me make it stop!” she screams, and buries her head in my chest. I can feel her trembling. I know she’s terrified.

“It’s okay,” I try and reassure her. “It’s just the thunder. It can’t hurt you Ker.” I stroke her head gently, trying to soothe her anxiety.

“Put it down,” she whimpers, oblivious to my comforting words. “Put the gun away Justin. You don’t need it anymore.”

I can remember every detail of the moment she’s referring to. How I had to kill Shane, how my hands were trembling, and how I wouldn’t get rid of the gun because I was so afraid that he was going to come back and hurt us again. “There’s no gun,” I say, giving her a reassuring rub on the back. “I promise.”

Then, the worst possible thing that could happen right now, happens. Another loud burst of thunder sounds, Kerri screams, and clings to me tighter…

And then everything shuts down. The lights go out, the house in plunged into darkness. We’ve lost power…that’s reality and I know that. There’s no danger. I have to keep repeating it to myself. No, there’s no danger. It’s just the house. It’s just the dark, and it’s going to get fixed. I take deep, even breaths, as I’ve been instructed to do in a situation such as this. It calms me down a lot, and I know I’m going to be fine. But Kerri…Kerri isn’t okay.

“No!” Kerri wails. “Turn the lights on Justin, please! Please!”

“Kerri, shhh.” I pull her as close to myself as I can, and rock her a little in my arms. “You’re fine.”

“I don’t…I don’t’ like the dark,” she stutters. “They come back when its dark.”

The thunder sounds again, and again…and again. And Kerri freaks out more each time it does. She buries her face in the crook of my neck and clings to me like a child as she cries. I can’t really do anything but sit here and hold her, and try to convince her that everything is going to be okay. I hate it. We’re here, we’re alive…and I’m getting better every day that I wake up. But Kerri is still suffering…so much, and it’s not fair.

This all leads back to the shed, and I know that. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for her…being tied up in the dark for all those hours. She must have been so scared, so confused, and probably didn’t know if they were going to come back and shoot her or simply leave her in there to die on her own. Now that I have more of a level head…now that I can think like a normal human being, I realize that what Kerri went through was probably just as bad as the Butt Sex was for me. “I’m here,” I reassure her. “And I’m going to keep you safe from them.”

After a moment, she looks up at me. “Promise not leave me here alone,” she sobs. “Okay?”

“I’ll never leave you alone,” I nod, and wipe the tears off of her cheeks with my hand. “I care about you.” I keep one of my arms around her, while I lean over and open the drawer beside the sofa. I feel around clumsily for a few moments, before I find what I’m looking for. I breathe out a relieved sigh and pull out the flashlight, immediately flicking it on. “Here.” I hand it to her, and she seems to calm down a little. I used to do this with my brothers a lot when they were younger. Even now, Stephen still needs that kind of comfort during a thunderstorm; as I found out when I was down there the last time. So if it will work for a kid who’s afraid of the dark, I’m sure it will help Kerri too. “Just hang on to that for me okay?” I smile.

She nods gratefully. “I feel like a child,” she whimpers. “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “The dark just…really scares me.”

“There’s no reason to be apologizing for that,” I say. “You have every reason in the world to be scared Ker. I get it…and I don’t think you’re childish for letting your emotions show.”

She sighs heavily, and points the light upwards so the area around us will be somewhat illuminated. I can see her face now, and I‘m thankful because that means that she can see me too. I’ve never realized the woman that Kerri has grown into up until now. Now that I can focus…now that I’m not so crazy with embarrassment and guilt about what I did with Shane, I realize that she’s beautiful. Why did I ever walk out on somebody like her? Somebody so caring and gentle, and sweet? She’s the only one that ever knew me as me, and not a celebrity…not ‘part of the business.’ We didn’t just…have sex that night. We made love. We really did. And I was too selfish to accept it in that. She gave herself to me…her whole self. I feel my bottom lip quiver, and I reach out and cup her cheek in my palm. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

She blinks, and sucks in her lower lip. “For what?”

“I should have loved you back,” I choke out.

It thunders again, but this time Kerri isn’t as frightened. She’s still tense of course, and she still won’t pull away from me; but she’s so busy staring at me in disbelief I don’t think she can focus on being afraid right now. “Justin,” she whispers and draws my hand away from her face. She shakes her head a little, and more tears spill out of her eyes. “I…”

“Do you think…do you think that I could be gay?” I ask her intensely. I don’t want to start crying right now. She needs me to be strong. But there are so many emotions building up inside me about her…about myself, that I don’t know if I can hold out much longer.

“Justin, please. You have to stop thinking like this.” She grabs my face with both of her hands, and looks me directly in the eyes. “You‘re not gay.” She shakes her head, and gives me a sad look. “God. What did he do to you?”

I can only shrug. I don’t have an answer, and I’m almost regretting even getting into this with her. I’ve never really discussed it in detail before. I’ve only told her that the Butt Sex was my fault, and I could have stopped it. But I really feel…like, that deep inside, part of me wanted it. “I had to have wanted it,” I hear myself say. “He wouldn’t have been so…attracted to me otherwise.”

She pulls back from me a little bit. “Do I have to prove to you that you’re not gay?,” she whispers. “Because I will if I have to.”

I freeze. I can hardly breathe…my mouth goes dry. All I can think is that she‘s going to force me into something that I know I can‘t go through with. Just like Cam did. God, no…I can‘t hit Kerri. I won‘t let myself do it. I won‘t turn into a monster on her. “Kerri…no…”

She moves closer to me, and raises a quivering hand to my face. She caresses my cheek, my forehead, and finally smoothes one of her fingers over my bottom lip. I feel my protective barriers begin to crumble at her touch. Her hands, so slender, so warm…I love the way they feel against my skin. I realize that I’ve missed this…us, being together, being close…caring about each other. I want to pull back…run away. I’m scared as shit and I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do if she kisses me. I’m terrified, shaking…I need to pull back. But I can’t make myself do it. Something inside of me won’t allow it. It’s telling me I need her and I need to do this…not just for myself, but for her too. “Ker,” I barely whisper.

She bites her bottom lip. “Should I stop?”

I gaze into her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that used to fill me with so much happiness and love. Once upon a time. Only…she never knew just how much I cared. I have a chance now, I realize. But…Shane…

Fag. I hear him whisper in my ear, and I close my eyes. You faggot.

I choke out a sob. “I don’t fuckin know what to do.” I grab onto her hand, and let myself break down in front of her. I hate this. I hate myself. I’m supposed to be helping her, and instead this is turning into something about me. It always does. Always.

“Justin.”

I feel her lips on my cheek, and my eyes fly open. “Don’t. Please don’t,” I sob. “You don’t’ know what I’ll do.”

But she doesn’t hear me. The next thing I know, her lips are on mine…and she’s kissing me. Then I’m…then I’m kissing her. Wild, passionate, like I’ve wanted her all along. I feel myself come back to life. To the person that I used to be. The one that used to be in love with this awesome girl. And I don’t ever ever want to stop kissing her. My lips wander from hers; down to her neck, and I let them linger there, savoring the feeling of her warm flesh against my lips. I remember this. I remember how this used to make me feel late at night when we would lay in my bus together. I knew I loved her then. Damn it. Why couldn’t I have let her know? Why did I allow myself to get caught up with stupid shit…and eventually lose her? Eventually, I force myself to stop kissing her, and I pull her to me. I cry into her, because I’m so damn confused, and I don’t know what the hell just happened with us. The only thing I do know…is that Shane didn’t come back and take over. I didn’t’ hit Kerri. She’s still here. I’m not a monster.

And I’m not gay.

I take deep breath, and I think I might have even stopped breathing for a moment or two…because I’m practically gasping for air right now. “Kerri.” My voice quivers, and I‘m shaking a hell of a lot harder than I was before. “Kerri, is this right?”

She looks down at her lap for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I--I think it is,” she says, in a confused tone. “I mean, I hope it is. I just didn‘t know what else to do. I needed to make you understand, Justin.” She pauses, and sucks in a breath. “Did I help you at all?”

I try to think. I try to feel something…anything. A change, good or bad. But I just…all I can do is stare at her. I don’t know what I’m feeling, or what I’m supposed to do. I feel like I’ve just climbed a gigantic mountain, and now that I’m at the top…there’s nothing but emptiness. I can’t feel happy, I can’t feel angry or confused. All I can do is sit here, and stare…

And kiss her again.

I wake up on the floor, wrapped in Justin’s arms. The first thing that enters my mind, is that I’ve slept through the night. I’m amazed. For the first time in months, Shane and Nathan kept their distance. I didn’t wake up screaming from some horrible nightmare, and I wonder how the hell I managed to do it. I shift a little, and try to sit up; but he won’t let go of me. I hear him groan tiredly, before he tightens his embrace around me. I sigh a little, but then I think…how the hell did I wind up on the floor with Justin anyway?

I remember the storm, the loud thunder, and how the power went out. He was there for me. He didn’t leave, and I was okay. Then one thing led to another. Justin became distraught, he told me he was sorry for never loving me as much as I loved him and the next thing I knew he was calling himself gay again. I couldn’t take it anymore I guess. I hate to hear him say that about himself, because I know it’s not true. So I went there. I kissed him without a second thought, trying to convince him what I‘ve been telling him all along is true...he’s not gay. I figured if he kissed me once, and he felt something; like that it felt right…that everything would be okay. But when our lips parted, he only seemed more confused, and for a moment I thought I’d wrecked everything. But then…

He kissed me again, slow and deep. The kind of kiss I used to long to receive from him those summer nights on the tour bus. The one that used to make me fall in love with him over and over again. I realized how much I’d missed being close to him…feeling him next to me. Feeling his skin on my skin. I know this is all very sudden, and I know that Justin is still very confused about who he is and what‘s going on with his sexuality, but still…I’m so happy that I have part of him back. The part of him I can trust. I feel all lit up and warm inside. That kind of warmness somebody can only feel when they’re complete, and content. I turn my head, and stare at him. He’s sleeping…snuggled so close to me, that he might as well be an extended part of me.

But that’s a good thing.

I feel so safe right now. So…loved? God, no. Am I slipping already? Am I letting our three year separation, and the common pain we share get to me? Like, am I going to just fall for him all over again in the matter of a day? Damn, I know I’m capable. I’m so weak and vulnerable I’d probably be able to fall for just about anybody if they made me feel this good inside. But no…I can’t allow it. I can’t do this to myself, and I certainly can’t do it to Justin. He’s going to be more confused about this than I am when he wakes up, and if I start acting like a love struck teenager, it’s not going to be good for either of us. We had a good day yesterday, aside from the storm…and I want our relationship to stay at the steady pace we’ve managed to bring it to.

“Hey.” His eyes drift open slowly, and he flashes me a sleepy smile. He immediately presses his lips to my forehead, and yawns a little. “Mornin’,” he rasps.

“M-morning,” I stutter a little, and tear my eyes from his. I don’t want to keep gazing into them, because if I do, I’m just going to get lost…and then I know he’ll be able to take over me all over again just like he did last night.

“You slept all night,” he smiles. “We should do this more often.”

I pull away from him, and lean against the bottom of the sofa. “No…we shouldn’t.” I shake my head. “Justin…”

But he stops me before I can protest anymore. He sits up, and pulls me close to him. “I’m not going to make this into a bad, confusing thing. So you shouldn’t either Ker.”

I look at him. He seems so…happy, and I just don’t get it. Shouldn’t he be more of a confused mess about all of this than I am? After Shane and everything, it’s the only way I expect him to react. But he’s not reacting that way. He’s smiling, he might…care about me that way. I’m scared. I can’t just…be okay with this. Because if I do something else and screw up and freak him out all over again, I’ll have wrecked the bond we‘ve worked so hard to gain back. And I can’t sacrifice all of that for a few random make out sessions with him. Even though it feels wonderful. Even though deep inside, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I could love him with my whole heart if I had the chance to…I know it’s not how things can be with us right now…or ever again “So kissing me wasn’t weird?” I shrug. “Like…you’re so confident in who you are now and there‘s nothing wrong…”

“You’re scared,” he interrupts. “So automatically, it’s all about me and my feelings right? There’s two of us Kerri. You and me. And last night wasn’t just some random kiss okay? It was different. If I…If I’d really been that uncomfortable I would have made you stop.”

“I pushed you,” I counter. “I forced you into it.” My eyes widen. Oh my god…I did force him. Just like Shane forced him. I hug my knees to my chest and bite my lip. “Oh god…” I whimper.

“You didn’t force me,” Justin says sternly. “Kerri…I kissed you back, remember?”

But I don’t say anything. He’s just in denial. Sooner or later it will hit him…he’ll realize what I did, and then he’ll hate me. Just like everybody else. I can’t take it…so I’m just going to sit here and wait.

“Look at me!” he whimpers. “You’re making me feel like…like kissing you back was wrong. Jesus Christ, what do I have to do to get you to have some faith in me Kerri?”

I finally look over at him. There are tears in his eyes now, and I feel my heart sink. “I’m confused,” I whisper.

“I’m confused too,” he grunts, and crosses his arms over his chest. “But you don’t see me sitting here, trying to think up every excuse in the world as to why kissing you was wrong. And I’m not going to. We’re in too deep now.” He shifts himself in front of me, and yanks my arms from around my knees, taking my hands in his. “We can‘t forget about what happened last night. We just have to go with it…and try to make something positive come out of it.”

I force a small smile for him. “But what if I mess up?” I whisper. “What happens then? What happens if you get hurt again…”

“Kerri.” He looks me deep in the eyes. “You could never hurt me,” he smiles and draws in a breath. “You care so much…you’ve always cared. It was me who was stupid and selfish before. Come on,” he smiles. “I know you don’t regret what happened.”

I stare at him. I need to tell him that he’s wrong. That I do regret it, and that I can’t be this close to him anymore. I’ll tell him that it’s a good idea if I just go back to Tennessee. Right. I open my mouth to speak, but my conscience won’t allow me to lie to myself…or to Justin. “I don’t regret it,” I finally whisper. Damn it. I didn’t want to say that. Why did I say that?

I need a drink.

He cups my cheek in his palm, and caresses it gently. “I know you don’t,” he nods. Then he presses his lips to mine. It’s a simple, soft kiss…but really, it’s so much more than that. It’s telling me everything I’ve been waiting for him to tell me for three years. I could love him. You do love him, the little voice of reason in the back of my mind reminds me. But I shake my head. “No,” I whimper aloud.

Justin draws away quickly. “You okay? God…I’m…I’m sorry.”

My eyes widen, as I realize that I’ve probably just scared him. “No…Justin, it’s not you. I’m just…I don’t really know what to make of all this.”

“I’m making you uncomfortable,” he whispers. “I…I’m sorry Ker. I don’t know where my head is right now.” He leans back against the sofa, and lets out a groan. “I mean, this whole thing could be some weird phase I’m going through. Some kind of breaking barriers thing. Madison probably has some weird name for it…I’ll have to ask her.”

I gasp. Madison…he can’t tell Madison about this. Then she’ll really hate me, and she’ll probably convince Justin that I’m confusing him more than I’m helping him I know I’m not supposed to tell him to keep secrets from her or Trace but this is different. This is our personal private business, and I don’t feel that Madison has a right to know about it. “Can we please…just keep this between us.”

After a moment, he looks over at me again. “I’m not supposed to keep secrets from Madison.”

I shrug. “I know. I just…I don’t think she’ll understand.”

He rolls his eyes. “Like you’re not going to run and tell Trace the first chance you get.”

“What?”

“Well that’s what you do Kerri. That’s how it’s always been. You used to go and tell him about what we did on the bus together, and yeah…I didn’t say anything to you about it then, but it really pissed me off. That was you know…private. And now, you’re telling me not to tell my shrink about it, even though I‘m confused as hell. What is it Kerri? Are you embarrassed of me…is that it? You think I’m a big fag and so you don’t want anybody to---”

“Damn it Justin!” I get up from the floor, and stand over him. “What I’ve told Trace in the past is in the past! We were different then okay? We hadn’t been…tortured. Our lives hadn’t been turned upside down. Don’t act like you didn’t go and tell Trace about us either…because I know you did.” I turn away from him and rub my face with my hands. “Kissing you last night was a mistake,” I finally tell him. “I just wanted to break through to you, and obviously it didn’t work because you’re still talking yourself down. I’m sorry…I’m sorry if I messed things up even more.”

I feel him behind me a moment later. If I turn around, I know I’m going to lose my strength, fall into his arms, and start sobbing like a baby. So I don’t. I just stare around Justin’s gigantic living room, and pray that he gives up. But then…I feel his hands on my shoulders, and I sigh. “Justin…”

“Shh.”

I feel his lips on my neck, and it sends a million sensations rushing through my body, and a million thoughts running through my mind. A few tears make their way down my face, and I don’t bother to wipe them away. “Justin, don’t,” I whisper.

“I can’t help it,” I hear him say a moment later. “It just feels right.”

I let him turn me back around, and I stare into his bright blue eyes. He runs his hands through my hair, and smiles a little. “I can’t help that you’re beautiful and you make me feel good about myself. Kissing you…feels right Kerri. You know, you’re the first girl I’ve kissed since Cam and I split up. You’re…the only one that’s been able to break through my barriers. Until last night,” he says sternly. “I didn’t’ think I would be able to touch another woman again.”

It’s only now that I realize what I’ve done. I’ve showed Justin that he can go on living…that he can be himself again. That he doesn’t have to live in fear of being gay or anything like that. Deep down, he knows he’s as straight edge as he’s always been. And it’s because of me…because I went there and proved it to him. But what am I doing right now? I’m bringing him down again…I can’t bring him down again. I take his hands in mine and smile. “But you touched me,” I whisper. “And it scared me…and I’m still scared. But, if it helped you…if it’s helping you, then I guess we should just go with it.”

He doesn’t say anything to me. We just hug, for what seems like hours. It feels good. I feel like I’ve made a huge connection with him, and that’s a good thing. He’ll start to feel less and less insecure, and soon…he’ll basically be normal again. As for me? I’ll be okay. Yeah, I’ll struggle…but I’ll handle it like I’ve been handling it. Just as long as Justin is okay, and Trace is okay…then I’ll be okay.

At least that’s what I’m hoping for.
******************
Sunday

Tiny stayed with Justin so I could pick up Trace from the airport. Of course, Justin protested. He wanted to come along for the ride so he could greet Trace at the gate. I wouldn’t have objected, except for the fear of photographers and fans mobbing him in the middle of LAX. I know it’s hard enough for him to go to an airport under normal circumstances…always being stopped for an autograph or a picture with a fan. Always having paparazzi flashes going off in his face. I know he’s still entirely too vulnerable and weak right now, despite the fact that he’s been acting like he’s made a full recovery over the past few days. It’s an act, and Justin is a great actor. But I know the moment he gets cornered and a million flashes start going off in his face, he’ll crumble as fast as he did the day we came out of Iceberg. Besides…I think Trace needs to get his head together before he faces Justin again. I know there are some things he’s going to want to get off his chest right from the start. Like, the truth behind his breakup with Elisha. And I know it’s something that Justin can’t know about right now. That scares me…Trace isn’t one to keep secrets from Justin. But I don’t know what else to think. But, I figure I’ll have a better chance to find out what’s going on with him, without Justin here to bombard him with a thousand different things at once.

The door to the gate finally opens, and a flurry of people rush out. I stand up, and wait for Trace to walk through the door. I smile when I finally see him, but it quickly fades. He’s an absolute mess, and seems to be practically dragging himself through the door. His hair is messy and unkempt, and his face is so scruffy it’s obvious that he hasn’t shaved in about a week. His eyes are tired, and his expression is withdrawn. It’s making me reluctant to even approach him, but I’m being ridiculous. This is Trace. My best friend, Trace and I don’t have the right to avoid him. He’s never avoided me in the past…when I needed him. With a long sigh, I force myself to make my way over to him, a fake smile plastered on my face. “Hey!” I exclaim.

He looks up at me, and drops his carry on bag to the floor. “Kerri,” he smiles, and pulls me into a hug. “Hey girl.”

The first thing I notice is his stench. He smells like he took a bath in a bottle of whiskey, and it starts to worry me. Trace never lets himself get this bad. Sure, he‘s an avid drinker and he‘s had his share of wild drunken nights…but he‘s always kept himself in check. He hates to smell bad, or look bad. No, he’s not as obsessive about his looks as Justin is. But he still cares. “How are you?” I ask, as I pull away from him.

He shoves his hands into his jean pockets, and shrugs a little. “All right.”

I sigh. “Trace…”

“Look,” he interrupts me, before I can start asking questions. “I really need to talk to you about some stuff. But I really need to clear my head too. I promise, I‘ll talk to you. But I have to…I have to clear my head for Justin. Just let me do that first…okay?”

Every good thought running through my mind has been drowned out by Trace. Elisha was right. Something is wrong with him…really wrong. I don’t know if it’s simply the fact that his relationship fell apart, or if it’s something else. But after years of knowing the guy, I can usually tell what his problem is. And it scares me, but I’m positive that this runs a lot deeper than him losing his girlfriend. I know he’ll talk to me later, and while I wish he would sit down with me right now and tell me what’s going on, I know he’s not about to. He’s trying to focus on Justin, as always. It’s very commendable, anybody would say that. But Trace has been putting his life on hold for too long, entirely too long, for us. It’s like he owes us something, which again…I don’t understand. There’s too many questions. One’s I know I can’t answer, and I know I’ll drive myself insane all over again if I start wondering…so I’ll go with this. I’ll wait for him, like he’s waited for me so many times before. “Okay, Trace.” I whisper, but don’t quite meet his gaze.

“Where’s Justin?” Trace looks around quickly, and frowns when he doesn’t spot him. “Shit, you didn’t leave him alone did you?”

I frown. “Yeah, Trace. Because I’m really that stupid.”

“Sorry,” he sighs. “I know you wouldn’t. It’s just been a long flight and stuff. Who’s staying with him?”

“Tiny offered to stay at the house while I drove up here.” I pick up his carry on bag, and sling it over my shoulder. “I figured it would give you a chance to talk to me. But I guess that idea is shot to hell now.” I’m not angry, well…maybe a little, even though I shouldn’t be. I guess I just hate it when he’s so closed off. He’s supposed to be the sane one right? I guess now I know how he feels when I try to keep my feelings from him. Still, I walk ahead of him, just so he’ll know that I’m not happy with his attitude.

“Come on Kerri,” he says, as he catches up to me. “I’m sorry all right? You know it’s been a tough week for me.”

“I know,” I mutter as we step onto the escalator that leads down to baggage claim. “But we’ve been through a hell of a lot Trace…the three of us. And you’ve always told me that it’s not okay to hide my feelings from everybody. So if that’s the case, why is it okay for you to do it?”

He doesn’t answer and I know that I’ve struck a cord with him. I’m right, and the expression on his face is telling me he’s annoyed that I’m not as naïve as he thought. But it’s only when we stop at his baggage carousel that he starts to crack. “I don’t want to do this here,” he whimpers. “Okay?”

His face starts to turn red, and his bottom lip is quivering, despite his efforts to hold his feelings in. He rubs his face with his hand a couple of times, and sighs heavily. I want to say something else to him…just to let him know that I’m not really angry with him, just hurt that he won’t talk to me. But I’m afraid if I do, he’ll start freaking out, and that’s the last thing we need right now. “I’m worried about you.” It’s the only thing I can say that won’t make his emotions flare up any more than they have.

The baggage carousel starts to rotate, and a moment later the first bags pass through the little doorway. None of them are Trace’s, and we both sigh while the people beside us push and shove while trying to find their own bags. I wait for Trace to tell me that I shouldn’t be worried. That he’s just been tired, and stressed over Elisha and that’s all. But he doesn’t say anything like that. He doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares at the platform, and waits for his baggage to come around.

Fifteen minutes later, we finally get all of Trace’s baggage off the conveyor and make our way out to the car. He starts to ramble about little things…stupid things. The movie on the plane, the weather in Barbados. This neat little bar near the resort he stayed in. He’s avoiding the real issue, and while I should point this out…I don’t. I mean, at least he’s talking about something. It’s better than walking in silence…that’s for sure.

“Did Elisha come by the house?,” he asks, once we‘ve settled into the car. “She called me a couple of days ago and said she got her stuff already, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it,” he sighs, but then laughs a few moments later. “I didn’t think she would want to…get out of my life so quickly I guess.”

I’m reluctant to tell him, because I know the truth will hurt him even more. But I can’t lie to Trace. First of all, I’m a horrible liar. Second of all, I can tell he already knows the truth…he’s just trying to find a way to deny it a little while longer. “She came by,” I whisper. I put the car into drive, and quickly pull out of the parking lot.

“She take her stuff?,” he grunts.

I bite the corner of my lip. “She was packing…”

“Good.” He crosses his arms across his chest, and holds his head high. “Less shit I have to worry about.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter, as I turn out of LAX and onto the main drag. “I don’t think she wanted to leave you, Trace. I just…I don’t think she had a choice.” I glance at him quickly, and flinch a little when I see him staring at me.

“What the hell did she tell you?” he says darkly. “Because whatever she told you…it’s all a bunch of exaggerated bullshit, Kerri.”

Trace is angry…furious with the situation, and by the looks of it; with himself too. “She seemed sincere enough, Trace.” I force a reassuring tone. “She said you’ve been having a lot of emotional problems. I guess…you’ve been worrying yourself sick over something.” I stop at a red light, and look directly into his eyes. Now, I can see it. He’s battling with himself…holding some sort of horrible secret inside of him, and it’s taking every ounce of strength inside of him to do it. “She said you won’t tell her what’s wrong…that she can’t even talk to you anymore because you push her away when she tries to. I guess she just couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why she left.” The light changes again, and I accelerate forward.

“She just…doesn’t understand,” he supplies, with a reassuring tone. “You know, she hasn’t known Justin as long as we have. And she doesn’t know you at all. So really, she’s not a part of this whole thing, and I think that’s what pissed her off so much from the start. She can’t help out like you can, you know?”

One thing about Trace…he’s a really persuasive talker. He can sit down with somebody he’s never met before, and have them eating out of the palm of his hand in five or ten minutes. It’s one of the main reasons that Justin made him his business partner. But I know all of his little tricks, and I’m wise to him. He’s lying through his teeth right now. “Elisha isn’t a jealous person,” I tell him. “I could see that just by talking to her for twenty minutes. If anything, she left you because she knew it would be the best thing for you. She still…she still loves you. And once you start thinking straight again, I’m sure…”

“I am thinking straight,” he interrupts. “Jesus Kerri, what’s the matter with you? You’re acting like I’m not the same person I was before I left or something. I’m still me…I haven’t changed. She’s the one that’s twisted everything around. She‘s trying to make it look like I‘m the bad person.”

In the past, I would have believed that. But not right now. When Elisha and I talked, I could tell that everything she was saying was the absolute truth…and that she wasn’t the type of person that lied to get revenge. “Fine. So if she’s exaggerating, and everything is okay…then why can’t you tell me what’s on your mind? Why do you have to wait…and make me wonder? It‘s stupid, Trace. You‘ve always been able to talk to me.”

He doesn’t seem to have an answer for that one.

“Trace…”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Nothing’s on my mind. I just wanted to talk about Elisha, but we’re doing that now, so don’t worry about it anymore okay? Tell me about the week. How’s Justin? How was…”

“Stop avoiding me Trace!,” I yell. “I’m not…I swear to God I’m not going to speak to you until you tell me what’s going on!” I’m so angry, that I pull the car over to the side of the road. I know I shouldn’t. I know that I need to get us back to the house before Justin starts to worry, and starts bugging the crap out of Tiny. But…I can’t take Trace back home like he is. He’ll make Justin upset. And Justin…Justin has come entirely too far this week to be brought back down again. I want to tell Trace all about that part of things too. I want to be able to tell him about how we went shopping, and how we bonded and how…how we kissed. But right now Trace’s mind isn’t right, and he needs to talk to me about what’s going on with him. I turn off the engine and sit back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest stubbornly for added measure.

“We can’t just sit here,” he finally says. “You know how Justin worries.”

“This isn’t about Justin,” I mutter. “For once, it’s about you.”

He stares at me, his eyes wide, jaw clenched in frustration. I know what I’ve just said has knocked some sense into him. It’s never about Trace…it’s either about Justin or me…or the both of us. For once, he has the opportunity to talk about everything on his mind. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to take away from us. He never does, and it’s not right. He’s human. He has feelings, and they shouldn’t have to go unnoticed all the time.

“Kerri I…I don’t know.” His voice quivers, and he looks down at his lap. “This…this isn’t the kind of thing you go around telling people.”

I grab onto his hand. “Trace.”

And he looks at me.

“You can tell me,” I tell him, making sure to look him directly in the eye.

He tries, but he can’t seem to help but let a sob escape him. He covers his eyes with his free hand. “I can’t do this,” he whimpers, and shakes his head roughly. “You…you won’t understand. And Justin, Jesus…he’ll never speak to me again.”

I’m scared. I don’t know what he could have possibly done, that’s causing him to worry so much. “What’s this about,” I hear myself ask. “Trace…at least tell me that.”

I feel his hand start to tremble, and then he finally manages to get out: “Shane.”

My heart stops, and then starts again. I’m so shocked, that I let go of his hand. I can’t speak, I can hardly breathe…I think I might vomit. Shane. It’s the only thought running through my mind. What the hell is going on? I feel myself start to cry, and I can’t stop myself. Now that everything is starting to turn around. Now that Justin is starting to feel better, and I’m starting to let the barriers I’ve built around myself crumble…this all has to come back into play. Why? Why can’t we just be allowed to move on with our lives? It’s like some sick joke that fate has been playing on us. And it’s never going to go away. “I don’t…I don’t understand,” I sob. “Trace…what are you talking about?”

“I told you, that you wouldn’t get it,” he moans. “Jesus Kerri…I’m fucking sorry.”

A million horrific thoughts start to invade my mind. Did Trace…could he have had something to do with our kidnapping? I want to slap myself. No…no that’s impossible. Trace wouldn’t. He couldn’t. But then what? What could he possibly have to do with that bastard? “You have to tell me!” I yell at him, like a crazy woman. I grip him by the shoulders and shake him a little. “Right now Trace!”

He pushes me back roughly. “Stop!” he yells. “Just…calm down,” he sobs. “Calm down, and I can explain…I swear…I can explain!”

I’m reminded of that day in the car…Justin’s Mercedes. Being trapped in there with Nathan at the wheel. Is this is going to be like that? Is Trace one of them? Is he going to kill me? “Don’t hurt me,” I beg him, and wrap my arms around myself protectively. “Please Trace,” I whimper. “Please.”

His mouth hangs open like I‘ve just hit him with a ton of bricks. “Oh God, Kerri…”

He reaches out for me, and I don’t want to let him touch me…but this is Trace. Trace. And god, he couldn’t possibly hurt me. Right? I let him wrap his arms around me, just because I don’t know what else to do. I close my eyes, and wait for him to do something…like pull out a gun. But nothing happens. He just holds me, and cries a little bit. He’s not going to hurt me. He would never, ever hurt me. And I feel like such a psycho right now.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers. “Jesus…I’m not…I should have told you differently.”

After a moment, I push him away from me, and take a moment to make myself stop crying. When I finally do, I look up at him again, and now he’s the one who’s completely lost his composure. It’s weird to see Trace so far gone. Actually, before today…I don’t think I’ve ever seen Trace cry this hard in front of me. “You have to tell me what’s going on,” I manage. “Trace…look at me.”

He does, but it takes him awhile to look me directly in the eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he whimpers. “Kerri I swear…I swear I didn’t know okay?”

He’s confusing me more every time he opens his mouth. I feel completely lost again. As lost as I felt in the very beginning of this whole thing, when I was locked in that basement with Justin; not knowing whether or not I was going to make it out alive. I want to trust Trace. I want to believe that he couldn’t have done anything to provoke this kidnapping, but I just…I have no idea what’s going on right now. Trace needs to simply come out with the truth right now, instead of stumbling around with it. “Just tell me what happened.” I manage to say it calmly, but I have no idea how. I silently thank God that Tiny agreed to stay with Justin at the house. Because if he was here right now, I know this would get really ugly…really fast.

“Remember…” Trace pauses, and draws in a long breath. “Remember in the summer, when we were on tour; and I called you and told you the stage collapsed?”

This summer I didn’t go back home. Instead, I stayed in the city with Siobhan and took a summer communications workshop at NYU, promising my parents that I’d be home in time for their anniversary. It had been a weekend, I remember that well…because Siobhan’s father threw a party in the Hampton’s and his parties are always thrown on the weekends. We went up to help decorate the house for the get together. It was sometime in the middle of a streamer fight with Siobhan that my phone rang. I wasn’t surprised that it was Trace of course, because he usually called me two or three times a day during the Justified tour, so I could catch up on things…or just because he was bored.

This time though, our conversation was a far cry from the silly, carefree one we usually shared. Nobody really knew the reason, but the stage had fallen apart about two hours from show time. Naturally, my first concern was for Trace’s safety…and Justin’s too. My worst fear, was that he was going to tell me Justin had been hurt. It was the first time I’d really been worried about him in three years, and while it was very awkward for me to be thinking about him, I realized that he was still a big part of my life whether I wanted to admit it or not. Thankfully, nobody had been seriously injured, but the tour was brought to a standstill for about three weeks. Needless to say, it was a huge disaster and Trace of course, found himself overwhelmed with the task of finding extra road crew workers to help rebuild the set. I didn‘t think it should have been his problem; he was only Justin‘s assistant. But being the awesome person he is, I know he wanted to help Justin out any way he could.

“Of course I remember,” I say. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugs a little. “I was rushing,” he blurts out. “It was…Trace we need fifty more guys. Trace we’re going to need thirty more guys. And the road manager was supposed to be helping me out, but you know…he had enough to worry about, trying to find the new equipment for the set. So half the time, I was interviewing those guys myself…” His voice trails off, and he sighs heavily. “And I mean, yeah, maybe he didn’t seem all there…I guess. God, how the hell was I supposed to know, Kerri? I was trying to get shit done.”

My mouth gapes open a little. It’s all starting to come together now. How Shane and Nathan knew where Justin was going to be…why Nathan had never seen me with Justin before. And why Trace has been blaming himself for this whole thing all along. I wish he’d said something before, but then…I don’t know how I would have dealt with it before. Now, I can think with a clearer mind. But Justin…oh God. Justin has no idea. What’s he going to do? If he finds out, it will kill him, and send him right back to square one. But worst of all…his friendship with Trace will never be the same. “They worked on the tour didn’t they?” I whimper.

“Shane did,” Trace sobs. “I fucking…gave him a job the same day I interviewed him. I gave that mother fucker a job, Kerri.” He shakes his head roughly and puts his head in his hands. “And the whole time, he was probably just waiting…and watching him…and fuckin, god…fantasizing about him or some shit.”

The whole thing is just too unbelievable to be true. But it is true. It’s true and I have to accept that. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do or say, to comfort him. This goes way beyond comforting though. I can’t even imagine how he must feel. Now, I can understand why he was vomiting, and not sleeping, and shutting Elisha out. I’m not angry at Trace, not at all…at least I don’t think I am. But I do know that I’m confused. Shane kidnapped us…he raped Justin, and came pretty damn close to taking my life. How do I just…tell Trace it’s okay that he slipped up? How do I tell him it’s okay that we almost died because he was in a rush? I feel selfish, like I shouldn’t be thinking this way. Maybe I shouldn’t. After all, fate works in mysterious ways, and I guess part of me is still convinced that Justin and I were put through this for a reason. But right now, I just…I don’t know. “How long…how long have you known?” I whisper.

“I--I saw his picture on the TV a couple weeks after the kidnapping,” he sobs. “And I remembered him. I remembered him because I guess…I always knew that there was something up with that guy, Kerri. I mean, we’d be walking through the venue after sound check…and there he would be, just standing there, watching us. I tried to tell Tiny about it once, but…he thought I was being stupid. And you know…I would have tried to talk to Justin about it, but I didn’t want to scare him. I mean, he had to focus on going on stage every night and I wasn‘t going to jeopardize that. I didn‘t think anything was going to happen…I figured he was harmless.” He shakes his head. “But I figured wrong.”

“Have you told anybody else?,” I ask, figuring if somebody else knows about this…I won’t be totally alone in my dilemma.

“No,” he whispers. “I couldn’t even tell Elisha…that‘s why she‘s gone.” He looks up at me. “ I figured that you would be able to hear me out. You know, hear my side of the story before everybody finds out what I did. That’s why I’m telling you this.”

It should make me feel good that Trace decided to break down and tell me what’s going on with him. It means he has complete faith in me…and he doesn’t think I’m the failure that I’ve made myself out to be. But I don’t feel good about this. I mean, I’m one of the victims here…and to know that he was close enough to do away with Shane before he got the chance to…

No…This isn’t his fault. But I can’t make myself believe it. I’m numb right now. The only thing I know for sure is, if Trace simply hadn’t hired Shane…he would have had a much harder time getting to us like he did. Sure, he probably would have tried something…and who knows what would have happened. But it certainly wouldn’t have happened in our hometown, in fucking broad daylight.

“Johnny keeps calling me,” Trace continues. “He keeps asking me all these questions, like if I’m okay, or if I have anything I need to tell him. I think…he suspects something. He wants me to come down to his office tomorrow for a ’meeting’. Maybe it’s just him being concerned about the situation in general. But I mean, I know there’s paperwork Kerri. Shane had a file, and Johnny might have found it. I…I don’t know what I’m going to do if that‘s the case. Justin’s going to have to be informed…by somebody. I mean, it just wouldn’t be right to keep it all from him like that. Jesus,” he moans. “What the hell do I do?”

I still don’t have an answer for him. Hell, I’m so confused about this, I can barely look him in the eye right now. I’m almost…scared of him. I always thought Trace was so responsible, and I guess it’s why I felt safe leaving Justin with him when I went back to New York. But now, I don’t think I’ll feel safe leaving Trace alone with Justin for some time. I know its wrong…crazy even. Trace never meant for this to happen, and I’m sure if he’d taken control of his feelings during the tour, and looked at Shane a little more closely…this whole thing could have been prevented. I know Trace is thinking the same thing. I feel horrible not being able to tell him that he doesn’t’ have to worry, and that I don’t blame him…

But I guess…I do blame him.

“Kerri?”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“I…I never meant for this to happen,” he whimpers. “I wish like hell every day, that I could go back and set things right. But there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s just…it’s done. And I’m trying to make it up to y’all. I’m sorry I went on vacation…I shouldn’t have done that…”

“Trace,” I interrupt. “Rambling is going to make it worse.”

He frowns, and looks down at his lap. “You hate me don’t’ you?”

“No…I just…”

“You blame me.”

I look at him. I want to smile and tell him that’s not true. And I try to. I force a smile and try to sound believable when I say “No…I don’t.” But the look on his face is telling me that he’s not buying it. Why should he though? Trace isn’t an idiot, and he can always tell when I’m being fake or when I’m lying to him. Why am I wasting my energy? Why don’t I just tell him how I really feel? I know why. It’s because I don’t want to admit my true feelings to myself. If I do, I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself. “I’m so confused,” I say. At least that’s not a lie. “I don’t want to blame you…but I…I don’t’ know what to think right now.”

His bottom lip quivers, and a moment later, he’s sobbing all over again. I force myself to hold him, it’s the least I can do for him…my best friend, right now. “We’ll work it out,” I tell him, half confidently. “We will.”

“I don’t know,” he sobs, and leans his head on my shoulder. “I…I don’t think this is going to work out, Kerri. Not this time.”

I suck in a breath, and try to tell myself that he’s wrong. That any situation can work be worked out, if enough effort is put in. But this time…this time I think Trace might be right. This is too big, too deep to move past, and Justin is going to disown him once he finds out. I hate this…I hate everything right now. The other night…the kiss, they don’t even matter anymore because soon, that Justin is going to be nonexistent. It angers me. I want to be happy…happy with Justin. But now, I can’t be…

Because of Trace.

“He has to know,” Trace decides suddenly, and pulls away from me. “I can’t…I can’t hold it in anymore, Kerri. He’s gotta know before we go on tour, because…I don’t want him putting all of his trust in me, if I’m just going to fuck him over again.”

I look out my window, as a few tears crawl down my face. I try to think of something…anything we can use to tell Justin about this in a way that won’t hurt him. But…there’s no easy way around this. The only way that Justin is going to find out the truth, is if he’s told straight out. It’s going to ruin everything--everything he’s been working so hard to get back. It makes all the therapy, and all the things he went through in the clinic seem pointless. And I know that’s going to anger him most of all. He’ll want to give up, crawl back inside himself. Only…there’s no way I’m going to let that happen. I’ll do whatever I have to do. I’m not going to let him drown in his sorrows all over again.

“Do you think…” Trace speaks up after a few moments. “Do you think you can forgive me Kerri?”

I shake my head. I feel horrible for holding this against him. It’s ridiculous, stupid…childish. He couldn’t have known, and even if he did think there was something wrong with Shane after he hired him…nobody would have believed him if he made a big deal about it. There’s no reason to blame him for this. Not a one. But somehow…somehow I’m still managing to. “I’m a horrible person, Trace,” I whisper. “There’s no reason for me to blame you for this.”

“He tried to kill you,” he states bluntly. “And I could have prevented it. That‘s reason enough.”

I meet his gaze again, and give him a serious look. “Do you want me to tell you that I blame you?”

“You don’t need to,” he says. “I already know you do.”

I don’t say anything this time. There’s no point in telling him the truth, because he already knows it. He already knows that I blame him for this. And soon, Justin will be blaming him too. Then other people will find out, and God…some of them will blame him for this too. I don’t know what’s going to happen…I can’t see into the future, and I don’t know if Justin is strong enough to handle this without going insane again. Part of me wants to keep this a secret from him forever; but what good will that do? He needs to know…there’s no other way around it. But, he’s come a long way right? Surely, he’ll be able to look past this and view it all as a mistake, right? But how is Justin going to get over the fact that Trace, his best friend…his brother, was partially responsible for our kidnapping…and his rape?

Uncertainty is a horrible thing.

I don’t feel special. In fact, most of the time I feel inferior to the rest of the world. Like a failure, or a monster…even a killer. Nobody knows what it feels like to take a life unless they’ve actually done it. And while I know that I had to do it…I had to kill them in order for us to survive, a part of me still feels ashamed that I did it. That guy Nathan…he was just a kid. Probably younger than me. I mean, he could have gotten himself straightened out. He wasn’t’ as crazy as Shane was, and with the right help…he would have done his time and came out of jail a little wiser. But I never gave him that chance. And he even…he begged me to spare his life.

But I shot him anyway.

The guilt plagues me…late at night when Kerri isn’t around to comfort me. It snatches me up, terrifies me, and tells me that I’m horrible for what I did. Sometimes Shane is there…and he’s the one saying these things to me. He hates me because I took his brothers life. But I didn’t’ know what else to do…and he knows what Nate did so he should understand…but he never understands, despite everything I try to tell him. Hell, I’ve even gone as far to apologize to him…and, ask for his fucking forgiveness. How crazy is that? I want to be forgiven for something I had no control over. I mean, I’m sure we’d both be dead if I didn’t kill the both of them. It would have been Kerri first and…I don’t’ even want to think about what would have happened to me…

Kerri's lips were as soft and smooth as I remembered them. Kissing her felt like a letting out a breath that I'd been holding in for three years. It sent me back in time, reminded me of the person I used to be, and proved to me that my feelings for Kerri had never really gone away. Of course the whole thing confused me too, but why wouldn't it have? Cam was the last woman I was intimate with before Kerri came back into the picture, and even then...I was too ashamed of myself to do anything with her. Not that I’ve gotten over my whole gay phase. I’m still confused and terrified of myself, and what this could all do to Kerri if I find out that I really am gay. I mean, what if the kiss was just a cover up of my true feelings? Like, I want to be straight so bad that I forced myself to kiss her back that night…

Just like Shane forced me to kiss him, and made me believe that I’m gay.

It’s not fair. I have to figure this out…I have to know the truth. But how can I figure it out? Do I go and hire a male escort and give him head? God…I want to puke just thinking about it…

“What’s the crazy doctor making you write in there?” Tiny laughs. “You bringin’ out your inner child J?”

I glance up from the page, and shoot him a sarcastic smile. I know he means well…joking around with me. If it were anybody else I’d probably get really pissed off. But I can’t get mad at Tiny. He’s worked with me for years…and watched over me like a father would watch over his son, and no matter what I do to repay him, in my heart I don’t feel it will ever be enough. He’s trying to brighten my mood, so I won’t drown myself in my problems. But what he doesn’t understand is, my journal is my way out. I can write whatever I want in it, without the fear of somebody getting mad or uncomfortable. Not even Trace knows about some of things I’ve written in this book, and he never will. A lot of it’s too deep and gross to talk about…but maybe that’s a good thing. It’s good to have something that’s mine and only mine. At least, that’s what Madison has told me. “It’s just part of the therapy.” I manage to smile. I quickly close my journal, and tuck it underneath my arm…hoping he’ll forget about the subject all together.

“How’s that going?,” he continues.

I swallow hard. “It’s going,” I say. Naturally, Tiny is curious about my rehabilitation, because I haven’t really clued him into it. And my mother knows so little about it, that whatever she’s been telling him has been based on what Trace has told her. And Trace, god…he’s only been telling her the bare minimum as it is. But that’s the way I want it. I don’t want her knowing too much about Madison, or what I talk about with her…because I’d die if she found out about the Butt Sex. After all this time, I still don’t feel that she could understand or accept what happened to me. I’m her only child, and…for her to know that I let something like that happen to me would break her. I just know it would.

My mom not knowing…its probably one of the only things that Madison is still trying to get me to do something about. She tells me that I need to talk to her about this, before she finds out from somebody else. But really, I don’t know who would tell her. Trace would probably die before he would betray me that way. That only leaves Kerri, and I know that she wouldn’t do that to me. We’re close again, and she knows how hard this thing with Shane has been on me…I trust her. I have to trust her.

“This doctor of yours…she coming out on tour?,” Tiny continues.

I know for a fact that my mom and Johnny feel I should have a shrink out on the road with me. But I really don’t want one. Like, I think it would make everything more complicated. The tour…having people asking me who she is. I would be embarrassed I guess…having to tell people that I need a psychiatrist on the road with me. Of course I could lie. But that’s never really been my thing. It’s hard for me to lie to people. I guess because before all this happened, I never had to lie to people before…and I wasn’t raised that way either. I suck in a breath. “We’re deciding that next week.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Tiny says.

I cross my arms, and sigh a little. “I don’t know. I think I’m better off just going out on my own, you know? Kerri and Trace are gonna be there, and they both understand. I can talk to them just like I talk to Madison…so what’s the point of paying her to travel with us?”

Tiny laughs his infamous sarcastic laugh. “Trace and Kerri got PhD’s now?”

I scowl. I hate when he treats me like a kid . I know he doesn’t really know any other way, because he’s known me since I was fifteen…but still, I’m twenty two years old. I’m a man…I guess, and I want to be treated like one. “No.”

“Your shrink is coming,” he practically orders. “You’re gonna need her around with all those crazy people screaming in your face, J.”

“Fine. Then you’re carrying a gun,” I counter. “And so is Eric.”

He shoots me a dark look. “We’ve been through this.”

I brought the idea up a few weeks ago. I’d been on a conference call with Johnny, Rob my road manager, and Tiny. We were discussing different aspects of the tour. Where I’d be performing…how many shows there would be and such. Then the matter of security came up, and I was glad because it was one of the only things about the tour that I’d been worrying about anyway. I’d even made notes about what I wanted…in my journal. I know it’s crazy, but I want my security to carry guns with them. Especially Tiny and Eric because they are the ones who are always with me. I’ll feel more secure that way. Like, if anybody came after me I know a gun would scare them away. Guns are intimidating. They give you power, and when you hold one…everybody does exactly what you want them to do.

When I had one, it was the only time I had some kind of power over Shane.

“And I’m paying your salary,” I snap. “I‘m the only one who‘s supposed to be giving the orders around here.”

“Until you’re better…your momma is handling that kinda stuff,” he reminds me. So if you want, I can get on the phone with her right now and get her opinion on all of this. I’m sure she would love to know that you want an armed force traveling around with you this tour.”

I send him a cold glare. “Don’t treat me like a kid,” I grunt.

“Then stop acting like one.”

I feel the anger flare up inside of me. It’s weird, because I’ve never been mad at Tiny before. But now I am. Now…I want to strangle him, make him sorry for making me feel stupid and inferior. But Tiny is way too big for me to take on, and I know he’ll put me in a chokehold until Kerri and Trace get back if I try anything. “If you won’t do it,” I continue, angrily. “I can find somebody else who will.”

He laughs a little. “You tryin’ to get rid of me, Justin?”

I shrug. I hate that I can’t make him angry. The only thing he seems to be thinking right now, is that I’m being stupid and he has all the authority. “You work for me,” I remind him. “It’s not the other way around. I can fire you if I want to, and I will if you don‘t start respecting me.”

He leans forward, an intimidating look on his face. I swallow hard. I’ve only seen Tiny get really angry a few times…and it’s not pretty. “Boy, don’t you even run your spoiled ass little mouth like that to me. I’ve done so much shit for your ass…too much.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “Who do you think held shit together when that bastard took you?”

I look at him like he’s crazy. “Trace,” I say bluntly.

He laughs. “Right. When he wasn’t too busy freaking out any way.”

“Trace held shit together.” I won’t believe anything else. I just…I guess I have this mental picture of him in my mind, taking phone calls and making negotiations with Shane; because that’s what he does when he’s working with me. He handles my business calls, and makes sure everything runs smoothly. Why would the kidnapping have been different? “You’re not going to make me think differently.”

“I was at the house, Justin,” he grunts. “The kid practically had a nervous breakdown that first night. I don’t mean to talk bad about him, Justin. He’s your boy…and that’s cool. But I’m just stating facts. Your momma, the police, and I were the ones handling how sh'it went down.” He crosses his large arms across his broad chest, and stares at me. “Fuck man…I was there when she gave the money to that son of a bitch.”

I never knew that, but its probably because I’ve never bothered to ask. But of course I’ve never asked. Hell, I don’t want to relive that sh'it. I’m trying to move past it as quickly as I can, and asking questions only leads to being reminded of everything I went through. But still, just to think that Trace sat home and did nothing while…

Wait.

What the hell am I thinking about?

“I’m sorry for being so straight forward,” Tiny speaks up, when I don’t respond. “Man, I just want you to use your head. What the hell will people think if they see you walkin around with armed guards? You know it’s goin’ to lead to stupid ass reporters asking questions you don’t want to answer. I don’t need a gun to protect you J. I’ve been doing this a long time a’ight? So just let me do my job the way I’ve always done it.”

Tiny has more than proved his point to me. Now, instead of feeling angry and childish…I just feel like an asshole. Like, I’ve insulted him or something. I haven’t really given Tiny all the credit he deserves. I mean, I know he did a lot for Kerri and me when we were in that place, and maybe…if he hadn’t done everything in his power to get us back, we might be dead right now. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, and shake my head. “I’m such an asshole sometimes.” I put my head in my hands and let out a heavy sigh. “I just…you know, I’m still scared Tiny.”

“It’s fine,” I hear him say, and a moment later I feel his large hand fall onto my shoulder. “Just…don’t worry so much about this kinda stuff. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you or Kerri or anybody else, and neither is Eric. So just chill man…and enjoy life for once. Lord knows you deserve to.”

I pick my head up to tell him how thankful I am to have him around. But then I hear a key turn in the lock, and the door swings open. I see Kerri and Trace walk into the house and I smile. They’re just what I need right now.

“We’re back,” Kerri huffs and drops the duffle bag she‘s been carrying on the floor. “God, that airport traffic is horrible.” She shoots me a small smile, before walking past us and into the kitchen.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” Tiny laughs and gets up from the sofa. “Maybe I can go home and get some rest now?”

Trace chuckles slightly. “Yeah Tiny. Thanks for staying.”

“J, I guess tomorrow Johnny wants to have a lunch meeting,” Tiny informs me. “So I’ll come pick you guys up around eleven…that cool?”

I nod. “Yeah.” I shoot him a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you then.”

Tiny leaves, not before shooting off some sarcastic remark to Trace about ‘knocking some more sense into Justin’s ass before tomorrow.’ Once he’s completely gone I stand up, and look at Trace. He’s standing in the doorway….lingering basically, like he doesn’t’ know what to do with himself. He looks bad too…really bad. Weak. Almost sickly, and I can’t remember a time that Trace has looked so bad other than two summers ago when he got that really weird stomach bug. I feel really bad for him. I’m sure his breakup with Elisha was ugly, and he’s probably so damn confused.

But…I think I might be able to help him. I know what it’s like to be lost and confused, and not have any hope for the future. And I know it’s wrong, but in a way I kind of feel good that I’m the stronger person right now. It’s the first time since everything happened that I’ve been able to look Trace in the eye and know that he needs my help instead of it being the other way around. “Hey man,” I whisper and shove my hands in my pockets. “You have a good flight?”

He looks up at me after a moment, and forces a small smile. “It was all right.”

“You wanna maybe, go for a bite or somethin'? Maybe talk a little?”

He shrugs. “Eh, I’m kinda tired from the flight.” He finally sets foot into the house and closes the door behind him. “Maybe we can go to dinner later on though.”

Weird. Trace hasn’t seen me in a week, and normally he would be throwing questions at me left and right. I figured he would want to know about how things went down…how Kerri and I got along, and I really want to tell him. I want him to know that Kerri and I have rekindled our friendship (or whatever it is now), and that I’m really starting to recover from all of this. I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry so much anymore…that he needs to call up Elisha and try to work things out. I feel horrible about that. It’s my fault that she left, and I know that she was the love of Trace’s life. Hell, if he won’t try to get back with her, I might have to take it upon myself to go and talk to her. I know they need each other right now. “I’m sorry about Elisha,” I mumble. “I know it’s my fault, Trace.”

He laughs a little. “Elisha? J, you don’t’ need to worry about that okay?” He walks past me, and I follow him into the kitchen. Kerri is sitting at the table, drinking a coke and reading a magazine. She doesn’t look up at us though, and I start to feel uncomfortable.

“We grew apart, people do that sometimes,” he continues. “And, you know…I don’t think I loved her as much as I thought I did. It was one of those phases that I go through. You know,” he winks and opens the fridge. “That family man phase…like you went through with Britney.” He pulls out a bottle of coke, and unscrews the cap.

“You’re full of shit,” I mutter. He’s shutting me out right now, and I hate that. He’s not supposed to, because he’s my best friend, and according to Madison…he's the person I'm supposed to rely on for complete support while I'm dealing with what happened. Our friendship isn’t weak. The only time it was, was when I was cutting and couldn’t bring myself to tell him. But now that’s over and done…we made it through all that bullsh'it; but he still thinks he has to keep things from me so I won’t get hurt. It angers me a lot. I’m not a baby, and I can handle whatever it is that he's keeping from me. “You still love her. I know you do.”

“No,” he snaps. “I don’t. So let’s drop it okay?” He gulps down the rest of his soda and tosses the bottle into the garbage. “Tell me about your week. What happened while I was gone?” He eyes Kerri, and she finally looks up from her reading. “Anything I need to know?”

I glance at Kerri and see the expression on her face grow into a nervous one. I feel the same way inside. What do we do? Do we tell him about all the bad shit that happened…like the wine and the fights and the crying? Or do we lie, stick to the good stuff, and make up some other shit to go along with it? I know its going against The List, keeping things from Trace. But he’s going through something right now, and I figure telling him the truth will only like, give him an ulcer or something. “It was basically just you’re average, boring week at home,” I say, quickly.

Trace crosses his arms across his chest and stares at me. It’s obvious that he thinks I’m full of shit, just like I know he’s full of shit about his breakup. Fuck. I can’t lie for my life.

“There’s something you’re both keeping from me,” he nods, and gives Kerri an annoyed look. “What’s going on?”

Kerri stands up and glares at Trace before I can respond. “We can all keep secrets Trace,” she snaps, and storms out of the kitchen.

“Ker?” I call after her, but she doesn’t respond. I look at Trace again, feeling more confused than I’ve been in awhile. “What was that about?” I ask him. “She okay?”

He chuckles sadly. “Yeah. You know how she can be. All dramatic and shit.”

I‘m confused. “Dramatic and shit?” I cross my arms, and stare at him for a moment. “Did you two have an argument on the way back here?”

He chuckles a little. “No. What makes you think that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. She was fine this morning…and now she’s all pissed off, so you tell me.”

“Look, I’ve had a hell of a long week and I’m really tired Justin,” he sighs. “If she wants to be all bitchy and shit, it’s not my problem. I don’t have the time or the patience to think about it right now. So why don’t you stop bugging me, and let me go lie down for awhile so I can sort all of this out.”

Who the hell is this guy and what did he do with my best friend? He hasn’t asked me how my appointment with Madison went, or if I’ve been tempted to cut at all without him here. He doesn’t seem to care either way, and while I know I’m supposed to understand that he’s going through something…I just know that Trace isn’t the type to simply focus on himself and forget all about his best friends. Kerri…I know something must have happened between them. But what? Kerri didn’t speak to Trace any more than I did this week, if she did I’m sure she would have told me about it. Especially since the kiss and everything. “I’m sorry,” I barely hear myself say the words to him. Its like a natural reaction to this guilty feeling I have inside of me. And I feel guilty because in my heart, I know I’ve made Trace’s life miserable.

“Damn J…” he sighs and moves closer to me. “Don’t apologize. I’m…I shouldn’t’ be talking to you like this. I don’t know where my head is right now. You understand right?”

I don’t, but I smile a little and say “yeah”, just so he wont have to worry about anything else but himself right now.

He gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’ll go to dinner later okay? I want to hear about everything you did this week, good or bad.”

“Sure, man.” I force a smile for him. “That’ll be great.”

“Cool.” He smiles at me one last time, before walking out to the back deck and taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs. I know I could follow him, and he wouldn’t really protest. But I know he needs this time to be alone and think right now. He’s gotta think about…Elisha, and whatever is going on with him and Kerri. God, I’m confusing myself. I should go talk to Kerri about this, but I have a feeling that if I do I’m only going to come out of the conversation more hurt and confused that I normally am.

And that won’t be good for anybody involved.

I wake up in a cold sweat, and I wrap my arms around myself before taking a deep breath.  I’m trembling and I crunch myself into a ball to try and make it stop…but I can’t stop.  I’m so cold…so scared.  I don’t want to be alone.  Not now, not ever.  “Don’t leave me alone,” I whisper, my voice quivering with every word.

“Wha…Ker?”

Then the light is switched on, and I’m brought back to reality.  I can see the room…Justin’s room, and a wave of relief washes over me.  I’m safe…I’m here in the house, and I’m not alone.  After a moment, I stop trembling enough so that I’m able to sit up, and I finally realize that I fell asleep in Justin’s bed.  I don’t remember how or why…I just know that I’m here.  I finally look at him.  He’s sitting up like I am, staring at me like he doesn’t know what to do.  I’m sure I’ve scared him, and I feel bad.  Justin deserves to be able to rest without me waking him up, because I’ve had some crazy dream.  “Hey,” I whisper.  “Sorry…just go back to sleep okay?”

But he doesn’t listen to me.  He cups my cheek in his hand, a knowing look in his tired eyes.  “Bad dream.”  It’s not a question.

I don’t quite meet his gaze.  “I’ll be fine,” I reassure him, before reaching up and moving his hand away from my face.  “God, what time is it?”  I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand.  Damn…it’s already eight fifteen  But I guess that’s a good thing.  It means I slept through the night.  Sleep…surprisingly it’s starting to become part of my life again.  It’s weird to think that for all that time, the concept was so foreign to me.  I have to admit though, I’ve been feeling a lot better the past few days.  I’m haven’t been so stressed; I was starting to feel normal again. Almost like myself…

But what Trace told me yesterday, put an end to my happiness…and allowed me to lose what little strength and composure I managed to build up over the past few days.  It’s bullshit.  My life is one big load of bullshit.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be happy.  Hell, I haven’t been happy in over three years.  I feel like I’m dangling on a thin thread of emotions, that’s so weak from being pulled and yanked that it’s about to snap, sending me to my doom.  I don’t want to feel this way anymore.  I thought…I thought I was starting to get back on track.  I thought that Justin was going to be able to fix me and help me to forget everything.  And I guess he was doing that… for a couple of days.  But now I feel like I’m about to lose everything all over again.

I can’t deal with it, and I know what the next step is for me…

A bar and a bottle of the strongest liquor on the shelf.

“Too early,” Justin let’s out a tired laugh, and pulls me closer to him.  “We should get at least another hour in before the day starts.”

I shake my head.  As much as I know that I’m going to be okay…that I’m over the nightmare; I don’t want to close my eyes and chance having another one.  It’s too risky, and I don’t want to get Justin all freaked out before he has to go to that business lunch later this morning.  “I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”  I force a laugh and stretch my arms out a little.  “You sleep though, and I’ll wake you around nine so you can get your shower okay?”

He shrugs a little.  “I can’t sleep without you.”

I’ve been sleeping in Justin’s bed with him since the night after we kissed.  I never intended on doing so, but we ended up talking all night and by the time we realized what time it was; I was too tired to shuffle back to my bedroom.  Justin was the one that suggested I sleep in his bed, and it was probably irresponsible of me to take him up on his offer.  But it was irresponsible of me to kiss him too; so I figured sleeping in his bed with him couldn’t do much harm. So I did…and for the second time, I slept through the night.  I felt so safe in his warm bed, with his body next to mine.  I guess I felt protected, like nothing could get inside my head as long as he was there warding off the demons.  After that night, I couldn’t make myself sleep in my own bed.  And now that Trace is back…I know its time to start acting normal again.  But deep inside of me, I know that I’m not going to be able to.  Just like Justin isn’t going to have an easy time getting to sleep from now on, unless I’m right beside him.

Trace has no idea about what’s been going on with us.  But, how could he?  He has entirely too much on his mind to pay attention, and the selfish part of me is thankful for that.  But I know he’s going to find out soon, and then…I don’t know how he’ll react, or how uncomfortable he’ll make Justin feel about the whole thing.  I know he’s beyond stressed right now, because of what “he did”; an now that I know the truth about what’s going on with him, I wouldn’t blame him if he turned the whole thing around on us and made our kissing and cuddling into bad thing. 

Not that I want that to happen.  I like what I’ve been sharing with Justin these past few days.  It’s something I’ve missed.  Something that I lost a long time ago, that I’ve suddenly gotten back.  And now that I’ve gotten it back…I feel somewhat whole again.  I’m not so confused about it as I was in the beginning, just nervous.  Justin had a point when he said that it just feels right when we‘re close.  It does.  But on the other hand, it doesn’t mean that what we have is solid…or that it’s going to turn into anything serious either.  And I can’t try and hope that it will, because that’s risky. 

I’m not about to let him break my heart again.

Justin lays back down, and opens his arms to me, willing me to fall into them and lay my head on his chest.  I shouldn’t.  I’m confused and stressed out enough as it is.  But I can’t help myself.  It’s like some crazy temptation that I just can’t resist.  So I accept his offer.  I lay back, and he wraps his arms around me as my body makes contact with his.  I feel his lips touch the top of my head, and I let out a little sigh.  I feel so damn complete right now…

This can’t be good.

“You’re gonna come to the lunch meeting with us right?” he whispers.  “I know Johnny wants to see you.”

I’ve never been comfortable around Justin’s management or the other people that help run his career.  They’re all so serious, so professional, and I’ve never been able to fit in with them.  I’ve always been so laid back and carefree…just like Justin is when he doesn’t have pretend to be forty years old.  People like Johnny have always intimidated me, made me feel like less of a person.  And  now that everything has happened to me, I’m not going to be able to handle myself if he asks me the wrong question or looks at me the wrong way.  Hell, I’m so weak I’ll probably cry if I get too nervous, and then Justin won’t want anything to do with me.  “I don’t think I should,” I finally reply.  “I mean, I have some stuff to do and…”

“You don’t need to be afraid of Johnny,” he tells me with a knowing smile.  “He’s not like some of the other stupid fuck heads that run my career, you know that Kerri.  You‘ve been around him.”

“Still,” I protest.  “It’s a business lunch, and you and Trace need to focus.  I mean, Justin…we’re leaving for New York soon.”

“Oh come on.”  Now he’s annoyed.  “Like you’re not a part of business Ker? Like…like you’re not going to be helping out and shit?”

I give him an odd look.  Me? Help him with his career?  Justin has never propositioned me like this before, and I’m surprised that he would choose this point in our friendship to bring the idea up.  Is he serious? I mean, Jesus, he knows how unstable I am.  If the slightest little thing goes wrong, I know I’m liable to lose it.  “No,” I blurt out.  “You’re crazy if you think I can handle that kind of responsibility right now.”  I try to pull away from him, but he tightens his embrace, keeping me snug against his chest.  “God, would you stop!” I whine.

“You’re talking about responsibility?,” he counters.  “Kerri, you just got through one of the toughest weeks I’ve probably ever put you through.  I mean sure, you had your moments, but for the most part you were there for me, you know?  And…I’ve never been prouder to have you as my friend.  I mean that Kerri, and…I want you to help me out this tour.  I…I need you to be there for me.  You and Trace.”

I cringe slightly at the mention of Trace’s name.  I wish Justin already knew.  Damn it, I really wish he did.  Then I wouldn’t feel guilty, like I do right now.  I really hope Trace talks to him about Shane, like, today because Justin needs to know the truth.  It’s the right thing to do.  Really, Trace should have been a man and told the both of us exactly what he told me, instead of keeping it from Justin. But Trace…well, sometimes he can be a wimp when it comes to Justin being mad at him.  It’s kind of lame, but it’s the way he’s always been.  He’s terrified of losing Justin’s friendship.  Sometimes he acts like it’s all he has, and that really scares me.  I mean, he’s known me almost as long as he’s known Justin, but sometimes it seems that I don’t matter as much to him. But I guess it doesn’t matter now anyway…

Because I don’t even know if I can be his friend anymore.

“Say you’ll come today,” Justin pleads.  “Come on Kerri.”  He inches his face closer to mine, and tucks a stray strand of my hair back into place.  “It’s important to me.”

“Why is it so important?,” I whisper, my eyes locked on his as I say the words.  I try to make myself look away from him.  I’m slipping…again, and I know that.  But I can’t help it.  It’s like I’m addicted to him…like I need him to feel alive right now, because everything else is falling apart.

“Because…”  he pauses and sucks in a breath.  “Because you’re important to me.”

It’s not fair.

He inches his face closer to mine, and then he kisses me.  Soft and long, letting his lips linger lightly against them before he deepens the kiss.  I should pull away, but I don’t.  Instead, I play along.  He wills my mouth open with his tongue and I allow him access.  I’m falling into him…faster and deeper.  Stronger and more passionate with each passing second.  Our kissing grows hotter, heavier, and I hear him whisper “Kerri,” in my ear.  It’s all too familiar.  I could rip off my clothes right now and let myself become a part of him all over again…I know I could.  I shudder a little, my nerves and emotions starting to take their toll on my weak, vulnerable soul.

Then he brushes his hand across my cheek, and lowers his pajama clad body on top of mine. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his smile soft and warm, reassuring me that he’s not uncomfortable about this.

I think to my self…so are you.  But I don’t tell him this.  I can’t get anything out, because his lips are on my neck, sucking at it, toying with my skin…willing me to make a move of my own.  I quickly feel my hands grip his tee shirt, willing it away from his body.  Then it’s off.  It’s off and he stops kissing me.  For a moment, he doesn’t say anything.  I know he’s confused.  This is too much…God…no…what are you doing!, my mind screams, but I ignore it.  All I can see is him.  And all I want…is for him to fall in love with me like he was supposed to originally. 

That’s pretty selfish, I hear Nathan whisper.  Just look at what happened to him.  Fuckin' bitch.  All you think of is yourself.  What are you good for….

I shake my head.  Nothing, I think.  I swallow hard, and force myself to make him stop before something happens that I know he can’t deal with.  “We can’t do this,” I manage.  But he doesn’t seem to hear me.  He‘s close to me, his face pressed dangerously close to mine. He‘s staring me down, a wanting, desperate look in his eyes.  He’s searching me, I realize.  Trying to find something he lost…maybe something he lost three years ago.  And I want to give it to him…

Stop it.

I force myself back to the real world.  This is has gone on far enough for one day.  “Justin stop,” I tell him.  I push on his chest lightly.  “Stop.”

He stares back at me.  “Did I do something wrong?” he whispers, breathlessly.  “Am I…,” he pauses and catches his breath.  “This is awkward right?”

This is fucking insane.  I used to dream about this.  Laying in bed, Justin hovering over me, wanting me and only me.  It happened it once, and we both screwed it up.  I lost him.  But now, history is repeating itself.  I have another chance.  A chance to make this right…to get my way.  To show him that he can love a woman again…love me.  But I just…I know it’s not going to work right now.  He’s still not all there, and I have a hell of a nerve letting this come as far as it has.  “Yeah,” I whisper.  “I guess it is.” 

He bites his bottom lip, but he doesn’t move.  He doesn’t lift himself off of me and he doesn’t look away from me.  “Do you feel like it’s a bad thing?”

I‘m so mixed up and confused right now.  No, I don’t think it‘s a bad thing.  But yes, I feel awkward doing this with him.  And yes, he was raped.  And yes, he still doesn‘t know where his mind is.  And yes, deep inside of him, he’s still struggling with his sexuality.  But I can‘t say any of it to him.  I can‘t say anything except : “I don’t know what to say.  I mean…we just fell into this…”

He cuts me off with another light kiss on the neck.  “But, I like falling into it with you Ker,” he whispers.  “That’s gotta count for something.  Don’t you think?

He says it with such passion, such caring and love that I can’t find my voice.  I’m speechless, and when he kisses me again…hard, powerful…I’m literally breathless.  We fall back into what we were doing.  I feel him tugging at my own shirt this time, and I allow him to start lifting it up…exploring me, seemingly without an ounce of discomfort.  The little voice in the back of my mind is terrified…screaming at me No! Don’t! It’s dangerous!

But being around Justin has always been dangerous when it’s come to my emotional well being.

I hear some kind of tapping sound…coming from somewhere.  But Justin doesn’t seem to notice it, and then I feel…I feel his hands on my breasts.  A million crazy sensations nag at me, and I suddenly wonder…is this happening?  I forget about the sound.  “Justin,” I whisper.  “Justin…”

“You okay?” He looks up at me with concern.  “I’ll stop…” He shakes his head, seemingly battling with himself.  He’s frustrated.  Frustrated because of me.  “This is crazy.”

“I…” I start to say something.  Something stupid like ‘no keep going, because I’m a vulnerable moron who can‘t control herself around you.’  But I never get the chance to get the words out.  The door opens,  I turn my head quickly and have to do a double take.  Trace…

“Justin, Tiny called and…oh.”

Shit, shit, shit.

Justin slides off of me and throws the blanket over  my body.  It’s only now that I realize that my shirt wasn’t just lifted up…it was off, along with my sports bra.  Oh Jesus Christ.  Oh lord…What the hell did you just do, Kerri?

“Trace,” Justin laughs, fumbling for his tee shirt.  He finally discovers it, yanks it over his head, and slowly stands up; trying to play it cool.  Like what Trace just walked in on didn’t happen.  “What‘s up man?” 

It’s official.  I’m fucking mortified.  I stare back at Trace, and wait for him to say something…anything to break the awkwardness of the moment.  But he just stands there, looking at us like we’ve just performed some unspeakable act.  I want to scream at him, tell him that he has no business thinking what we were doing was wrong, and that he’s the only one that needs to be sorry.  That he’s the one that’s  been screwing Justin over, not me.  I’m just helping and…Justin wants to kiss me.  I know he does.  And I’m going to let him if it makes him feel better.

“Tiny said he’ll be here around ten thirty,” Trace mutters.  “Sorry to intrude.”

“Trace come on,” Justin sighs.  “Don’t start.”

But Trace doesn’t answer.  He only shoots me a cold look, telling me I should know better, before disappearing from the doorway.

“Shit,” I groan, and put a hand to my forehead.  I’m fully expecting Justin to lose his temper now.  He’s going to start shouting about how much of a selfish bastard Trace is, and I wont be able to disagree with him.  Then…then I’ll screw up and blurt out what Trace told me yesterday…

But Justin doesn’t start yelling.  In fact, after a few moments he starts to laugh and I look over at him in surprise.  “Justin?”

He smiles at me.  “Well I guess he had to find out some time,” he tells me.  “Come on Ker, it’s not the end of the world.  It’s just Trace.”  And then, as if nothing has happened, he climbs back on top of me.

“What are you doing?,” I gasp, and push him away from me a little.  “Enough Justin.”

He frowns.  “What’s the matter?  I thought you…liked this.”

“I…do,” I sigh.  It’s not a lie.  I really do like kissing him, but I just wish he would slow down a little.  He’s being so clingy right now…like he has to prove something to me.  But he doesn’t.  I’m content with the person he is now, and I’ll do anything to keep him from going back to the way he was in the beginning of all this.  But I don’t want all this kissing and…stuff, to lead into  things that he’s not ready for…that I’m not ready for.  Like sex and being completely naked and all that weird stuff.  But then I think about it, and deep down I know that it’s going to take a long time…probably years, before he’ll ever think about getting that physical with somebody again.

“Well then what’s the problem?” he whispers.  “Ker, you gotta think about this a little more seriously.  I mean, this you and me thing could go somewhere, you know?  I’m so comfortable with you now, and…I think if you’re ready we could probably try to pick up where we left off.  Kinda like, we can just forget all the bad stuff that happened and just be together.  For real this time.”

Is he asking me to be with him? I shudder a little.  No.  There is no way that Justin is ready for any kind of relationship with me, or with anybody else for that matter.  He’s just confused, and he’s trying to hide from his true feelings.  He’s trying to make the memories of the kidnapping and Shane fade away, by using me as a distraction.   I don’t’ want to admit it to myself, but deep down I know I’m letting him use me again.  But that’s nothing new to me.  When we had sex…I felt used then too.  And for three years that feeling stuck with me.  But if I’m feeling this way now, why don’t I push him off of me? Why don’t I pack my bag and tell him that this is too much for me?

Because I’m fucking slipping.

No…I can do this if I’m careful.  I can be close enough to him where I can enjoy him and be happy with him, but far enough away so I can focus and prevent myself from having him break my heart again.  Oh hell, who am I kidding?  He’s going to have his way with me eventually, because I’m too blindsided by the little things I’ve always loved about him, and missed like hell all this time we‘ve been apart.  I know I want to love him, so bad that I’m ready to do anything to stay by his side.  And I’d probably die if I lost him again.

“I know we’re moving too fast,” he admits.  “But being comfortable with myself is all new to me, and having you here…the only woman that can understand me, is really fucking tempting.  And we all know I have a really shitty grasp on reality,” he laughs.  “Trace can hold me to that.”

“I can’t be with you,” I force myself to say.  I quickly sit up, holding the blanket against my naked upper body as I do.  I fumble for my sports bra and shirt.  When I find them, I bury myself under the comforter, somehow managing to get them on without exposing my body to Justin again.  My face is burning what we‘ve just done impacts me again.  God, my boobs.  He touched your boobs?  Nathan is back.  You were just half naked in his bed!  Skank.  Good for nothing.  Go have a drink slut…go ahead.. I suck in a shaky breath and close my eyes, willing his voice out of my head again. 

Once I’m confident that Nathan is out of my head for the moment, I yank the comforter off of myself.  Justin is still sitting on the bed, staring at me.  His expression is telling me that he’s confused all over again, and I feel horrible, like I’m letting him down or something.  But in my heart I know I’ve done the right thing.  “I care about you,” I say, finally.  “But we’re not ready, and I know that deep down… you know that too.”

He lays grabs a pillow, and clutches it to his chest; sinking his chin into it.  He won’t look me in the eyes, and I hold my breath, thinking I’ve just screwed up his mentality all over again.  “Am I worth loving Kerri?,” he asks me after a moment.

My breath catches in my throat, and I feel my heart sink.  “Justin,” I whisper and reach out to touch his face, but he pushes my hand away.  “This isn’t’ about that.”

“Then what’s it about,” he grumbles.  “You see it don’t you?”

“See what?” I ask.

“You can see it on me.” He hugs the pillow tighter to himself.  “I am gay…”

He’s definitely not as mentally stable as I’ve made him out to be the past few days.  I’ve let myself forget exactly what he went through, and that most things, especially things as deep as this can do a lot of damage to him.  Damn it. This is all my fault.  I kissed him, like a fool, and I made him believe that I was going to just…fall in love with him.  And yeah, maybe I am in love with him.  But I wont allow myself to form some weird relationship with him right now.  In my heart, I know it wouldn‘t be fair to either of us.  But I know Justin doesn’t have room in his clouded mind to think that way.  He just knows that he cares about me, and the logical thing for him to do is try to be with me.  I knew this would happen.  I knew I would mess him up.  “Justin, no…that’s not it.”

“Yes,” he whispers.  “Yes it is…”

“Justin please stop,” I whimper.  “That’s not true.  I just…I can’t just be with you.  Look at everything that’s happened to us.  You can’t honestly tell me that you’re ready for another relationship right now.”

He stares down at the mattress.  “I’m ready,” he mutters.

I narrow my eyes at him.  “Justin.”

Then he allows himself to meet my gaze.  He looks a little lost, but not completely.  I know somewhere inside of him he knows he’s not ready.  I think he just wants the reassurance that he’s worth being with…it will make him feel better.  But I don’t know how I can prove it to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, before letting out a sob.  “Just don’t leave okay?”

I pry his arms from around the pillow, and a moment later he tugs at me, willing me to lay in his arms again.  I know it’s not the best thing to do, but I do it anyway, and we collapse onto the mattress again.  “I’m not leaving,” I reassure him.  “I wont leave you.”

He tucks his head in the crook of my neck.  “Everything is crazy,” he whispers, his breath warm in my ear.  “I don’t know what to do.  But I know that I care about you, and…you‘re the only one that I’ve let this close to me in a long time.  That’s gotta count for something Kerri.”

“It counts for a lot,” I tell him.

“I feel like myself when I kiss you,” he tells me.  “Like the pain…I always get this pain in my gut and I feel nauseous, you know; because I‘m always thinking about what I could have done differently to prevent what happened.  But when I’m with you and I kiss you I’m fine.  I don’t have to worry because I know you get it, and you understand.”  He sighs heavily.  “Lord, I sound like a psycho. Maybe I should just go back and live with the crazies.”

I shift a little, and he allows me to turn so I can face him.  “There’s nothing wrong with how you feel,” I say.  “You’re not crazy, and you’re not gay…and I nobody thinks that you are.”  I take a deep breath.  “All I’m saying is, we’re not ready to be together.”

The lost look in his eyes gets more intense.  “Then what do we do?” he whispers.  It’s a hollow whisper though.  He doesn’t know what to think.

I grab one of his hands and give it a squeeze.  “We just go on living Justin…and we see what happens.”

“We shouldn’t do like…stuff anymore?,” he asks.

I stare to chew on my bottom lip.  “What do you think?”

“It’s probably better if we don’t.  But it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to.  I still want to.” he tells me forcefully.  Like he has to, or I wont take him seriously anymore.

“I know you do,” I force a reassuring half smile for him.  “But come, on we can talk later.  Right now you have to get ready.”  He lets go of me, and I slide off the bed before helping him to his feet. 

“Kerri.”

I turn around, and he’s standing before me, like he’s never wanted anything more in his life but to be with me.  I should be thrilled.  I can have him if I want him, and I don’t even have to try.  I don’t have to prove myself, or wait for him to get away from his other girlfriend.  He’s here now, and he wants me now.  But I can’t be with him.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be with him, and love him like he wants me to right now. 

Why does life have to be so unfair?

“I can’t just…not have you…not touch you anymore,” he admits.

I sigh.  “We just spent twenty minutes discussing why we shouldn’t.”

He shrugs.  “You know how mental patients are,” he laughs softly.  “In one ear and out the other.”  He steps up to me, and puts his arms around my waist.

I frown.  “You’re not being fair,” I whimper.  “So stop trying to make me fall in love with you, Justin.”

His mouth hangs open a little.  “Whoa…wait a second.  Who said anything about love?”

I want to put my foot in my mouth.  I realize I’ve just given something away, something I’ve been holding inside of me for a long, long time.  Justin never knew how deep my feelings went for him.  I mean, when we had sex I think he got it through his head that I cared about him more than he thought.  That scared him though, and that’s why he took off.  God, and now I’m doing it again.  I’m slipping up more and more because the truth is…I’m not falling in love with him.  I am in love with him.  I’ve been in love with him my entire life, I was in love with him when he took off three years ago, I was in love with him when we were in that fucking basement…

And I’m in love with him now.

But I pull away from him.  I know that my feelings don’t matter right now, and he could never…love me like that.  At least I don’t think he could.  “I can’t do this,” I whisper.

He laughs nervously.  “Can’t do what? Kerri…you’re fuckin confusing me.  I never said I was trying to make you love me. I can’t…be in love with anybody right now.  I just thought we could try to be together…”

He can’t be in love with me.  My heart sinks and all I can think is that I’m a psycho.  I turn my back on him.  “I’m getting Trace,” I tell him.  “You need to get ready.”

“Don’t walk away,” he whispers.  “We’re not thinking straight right now, that’s all.  Maybe if we just don’t think about being together and just…”

I interrupt him with a sarcastic laugh.  “If we just what Justin? Fool around randomly because you feel like it?  That’s really selfish.”

“I don’t get it,” he shrugs.  “You started this whole thing the other night, and up until now you seemed to be fine with it. But the minute I want to move ahead and make it into something more, I’m the bad person.”

I cross my arms and sigh heavily.  “Jesus, it’s not like we were just fighting for three years and now we’re talking again.  Stop avoiding the issue Justin.  Stop avoiding…”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, knowing exactly what I‘m hinting at.  “Don‘t even bring Shane into this.”

Okay, I know I shouldn’t have put Shane into this conversation.  He doesn’t‘ really have a place in it, because this is about me and Justin, and our relationship.  I guess I‘m just so distraught and confused about what this is leading into, that I’ll do anything to make him stop pressuring me like he is.  “Then stop trying to cover it up by using me as a distraction,” I snap. 

“Distraction?” he chuckles.  “Kerri, what the hell are you talking about?”

I close my journal, and glance around cautiously before carefully placing it on the bench, and covering it with my tee shirt.  I rub my bare chest, and sigh.  It if feels so good to be outside, in the warm sunshine without my shirt on.  I realize this is the first time I’ve done this…exposed myself.  I’m proud.  So proud, that I don’t think about how paranoid I am that somebody might be able to see me…and think about me, like Shane thought about me.  Instead, I pick up the basketball and begin to do  laps up and down my court.  Bounce.  “Gotta lose weight.”  Bounce.  “Gotta get in shape.” Bounce.  “Everybody’s watchin.”  Bounce.  “Show ‘em there ain’t no stoppin.” Bounce.  “Justin’s gonna keep rockin.”  Bounce.  “So you betta keep watchin your girl.”  Bounce  “Cause if you don’t he’s gonna end up wit hurr.”

I stop.  Focus, shoot.  Swish.  Three points…

Cool.

Lunch with Johnny went better than expected.  Although, I really don’t know why I was so nervous about it to begin with.  I’ve known him for years, and he’s been there for me from the beginning of NSYNC right up until now.  I guess I was more nervous for Kerri than anything.  I mean, she hasn’t seen the guy in three years, and even when she was around him in the past she was never really comfortable.  For a girl like Kerri, somebody like Johnny is really intimidating because he has so much power and influence over people.  For me, it’s never really been an issue because I’ve been in this business too long to fear people like that.  It just comes with the territory, and Johnny is probably the most down to earth guy I’ve had the pleasure of working side by side with.  He cares about the well being of his clients, and that counts for a lot in this business.

So that’s probably why when the four of us sat down to lunch a few days ago, and Johnny started shooting off whatever questions he wanted, I didn’t feel so bombarded  I was actually comfortable.  But I was alone with my feelings.  Seeing the expressions on my two best friends faces told me that they weren’t too comfortable answering his questions at all.  The questions he was throwing at Trace were mostly business related ones.  Like, was he feeling all right?  Was he up to handling the majority of my hectic schedule this tour?  I could tell he was offended.  Trace takes great pride in what he does for me, and it’s one of the reasons I love and trust him so much.  But I mean, Johnny was only doing his job.  He’s looking out for me…for all of us.  And I know he only wants this tour to go as smoothly as it can.  He was asking the questions because he had to.

“Of course I’m up for it,” Trace had snapped at him, before crossing his arms and sitting back in his chair.  “When haven’t I been up for it?” 

Trace’s attitude surprised me, because he doesn’t usually talk to people that way.  Especially people that have so much to do with my career.  I hate to admit it, but I was kind of disappointed in him then.  Of course I didn’t say anything to him, and I won’t.  But I have no idea what his problem is.  I think it could have had something to do with the fact that he caught Kerri and I in the middle of…things the other day.  But still, why should it bother him so much?  It’s my life, and I want to move on with my life.  I’m tired of feeling gay, and stupid and ugly all the time.  Trace should understand that better than anybody else, because he’s been here for all the bad shit.  I don’t know.  Maybe I need to rethink things with him.  After all, he did just break up with his girl, and that does things to a guy.

I know that better than anybody.

I’ve really been meaning to sit down with Trace and have a straight out, man to man talk with him.  I know it’s something we both need to do before we hit the road, because we need to be on the same page if we’re going to work together and make this tour work to our advantage.  And I mean ,since he came home…I’ve tried to talk to him.  I really have.  But it’s hard.  He’s always ’in the middle’, or ’tired’.  I just don’t get it.  Before he was like this leech that was attached to my side twenty four hours a day.  It got really annoying, especially before he knew about the cutting.  But he never gave up, and then when the truth was thrust his in face…he was still loyal to our friendship.  He still cared.  That’s why I can’t understand why he wont talk to me now.   Like, he hasn’t even told me how he really feels about Elisha.  He hasn’t told me how much that loss is killing him inside.  And god, I know it is. 

Him avoiding me like this…it leaves me feeling empty inside.  Like a big part of me that was there, is gone now.  He’s supposed to be my ‘lifeline’.  He’s supposed to be the one I run to when I feel scared, alone, and insecure.  He knows that damn well too, and I don’t know how he can just sit there and pretend like it doesn’t’ matter anymore.  I know the best thing to do right now is call up Madison and tell her about this.  But I just…I can’t do that to him.  Too much has happened, and he’s done way to much for me as far as cutting and Butt Sex goes.  Telling Madison about it, would make him feel like an even bigger failure.  It just wouldn’t be right.

Naturally, my alternative has been confiding in Kerri.  It’s weird, confusing, but it makes me feel good at the same time.  God, she’s such a great girl; and she really wants to talk to me and hear what I have to say.  At this point, I feel like I can tell her anything and everything, and she’ll get it.  I love that.  I love having her back.  Even though, I probably have been pushing her emotions a little too hard lately with the kissing and everything.  After Trace caught us, and she yelled at me, I guess it was sort of a wake up call.  I was pushing her, and maybe…I am trying to hide from Shane and the Butt Sex and everything.  Hell, I don’t know.  All I know is that I really love kissing her…touching her.  No, I’m not in love with the girl.  I can’t be, because I don’t think I know what love is anymore.  But touching  her makes me feel something I haven’t felt in years.  It makes me feel safe, secure, and somewhat confident in the person I am now.  When we got back from lunch that day, I pulled her aside and apologized…told her I realized I was rushing her and that I never meant to.  I was terrified she was going to pull back and tell me she couldn’t handle things anymore and leave me again.  But instead…she smiled, and told me she understood.

I don’t know what I’d do without her.

We covered the psychiatrist issue at lunch too.  At first, Johnny was pretty adamant that he wanted one on the road with me; at least for the first month just to make sure that I didn’t go bonkers again. But I wasn’t just going to sit back and let him make my decision for me.  I feel that I’ve come a hell of along way since I entered rehab and went through all that shit.  I don’t cut anymore, hell…I’ve barely been tempted to (aside from that one time when Kerri got drunk).  And when I have been…I’ve done the right thing and gotten help from my friends.  A shrink would only make me nervous, and more aware of my stupid problems.  I’m going on tour to forget all about this.  I’m going on tour to be with my friends, party, and show my fans a good time.  I pointed this all out to Johnny, and he really seemed to take my opinion into consideration.  But I mean, he should.  I’m a grown ass man now.  Not little seventeen year old, southern boy toy Timberlake.  Johnny can’t really tell me what to do anymore, and my mom can’t really influence him as much as she used to be able to.  In the end, he told me he would leave the final decision up to me, and I was happy with that.  But of course, he didn’t hesitate to add that ’everybody else’ would feel more confident if I had somebody with me.

Screw that.

I pick the ball up and dribble it a few times, before focusing my gaze on the basket in front of me.  “Timberlake takes position.”  I step up to the line, and glance at the imaginary players to my right and left.  “If he makes this, the championship is all his.”  I take a breath, shoot the ball…

Swish.

I make crowd noises and jump up and down.  “Haaa.  He’s done it!” I yell.  “Justin Timberlake, the master has done it again!  Four years in a row! He’s unstoppable.  Haaaaa.”  Still cheering myself on, I do a backwards moonwalk, before I feel myself bump into something…somebody.

“What’re you doing?”

“Huh?”  I whirl around quickly, the voice nearly scaring the life out of me. But then I see Trace standing there, and I let out a little sigh.  “Man,” I chuckle a little and shake my head.  “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Oh.”  Immediately, a nervous expression takes the place of his calm one.  “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s cool,” I reassure him, before picking up the basketball and throwing it at him.  He catches it, and tucks it under his arm.  “What brings you out here?”

He shrugs.  “I don’t know.  Kerri’s on the phone with her dad…or something.  It was getting ugly, so I came to see what you‘re up to.”

I frown.  “She okay?”

“I guess.”  He walks past me, like he doesn’t even care, and starts to take shots at the basket.  He misses nine out of ten shots like always.  Normally I would laugh and call him a midget.  But not right now.  He’s got me worried, and I know that Kerri is going to be a wreck when I decide to go back to the house.  Damn, he shouldn’t have just left her to fend for herself.

“What’s the matter with you?”  I walk up to him, and put my hands on my hips.  “I mean, you just left her there?”

He shoots me a bewildered expression.  “Kerri’s family issues aren’t my problem,” he shoots at me, before attempting a pitiful jump shot and missing it.  “I don’t need to hear more yelling right now, that’s for damn sure.”

I glare at him.  This isn’t the Trace I‘ve known my entire life.  The Trace I know doesn’t’ just…turn his back on his best friends like this.  When Kerri or I are having problems, regardless of what they are, he sticks around.  I decide that he’s definitely changed, and for some reason, I’m almost positive it’s not just because of his breakup.  I’m sure that’s part of it of course…but it’s not the whole reason.  It scares me, terrifies me…but I know something is going on with him that he’s not telling us.  I wish like hell I could read his mind right now.  If I just knew what was going on, I know I could help him.  He…he doesn’t believe I can, because according to him I’m all fucked up.  But it’s not true.  I can see clearer now, think straighter.  But like, he doesn’t think so.  He doesn’t have any damn faith in me at all.  He thinks I’m not worth talking to, that I can’t understand anything but my own problems…

And that really hurts.

“Do you think I’m a fucking asshole?” I say, my tone growing angrier with every word.  “Like, you can’t talk to me about whatever it is that’s bugging you because I’ve gone through something horrible?”  I wait for him to respond, but when he doesn’t answer, and continues to dribble the basketball I feel the anger flare up inside of me.  I storm over to him, and steal the ball away from him easily, before throwing it across my oversized basketball court.

“What the hell?” he grunts.  “Justin, I don’t know what the hell your problem is.  You know what happened with Elisha…and that’s all that happened okay?  I…I can’t help Kerri right now.  You know how she is.  She wants to handle things herself okay?”  He turns on his heel and starts walking across the court to retrieve the ball.

I jog to catch up with him.  “You’ve been acting weird,” I tell him.  “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me, Trace.  You don’t talk to me much, hell, you can’t even look me in the face half the time.  It hurts me, man.  I mean, is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

He bends down and picks the ball up, before turning to face me again.  “Of course you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says quietly.  “I…I’m sorry okay? I never meant to make you feel like that.  My head…it’s just all messed up right now and I guess I just feel better keeping to myself.” He dribbles the ball a little.  “I know that I shouldn’t be.  You need me and hell, I know that better than anybody else.  Maybe I’m just selfish Justin.” 

Now he’s staring at me, and I know his ‘selfish’ comment wasn’t really a comment at all.  It was a question.  “Trace, you’re anything but selfish,” I say with a light laugh.  “I cant’ even tell you how much you’ve helped me through all this shit.  Kerri too…I know she’s totally grateful to you.  It’s just that you’ve been so distant lately.  I mean, you’re my boy,” I smile.  “And I feel like I can’t even talk to you about me or what’s going on with…stuff anymore.”

Then he smiles, for the first time in a while.  “Like you and Kerri?” 

He tosses the ball to me, and I catch it.  I try not to smile, but fail as I look down at the ground and start to dribble the ball.  “Yeah,” I mumble.  “Exactly.”  I look up at him again, and nod a little.

He walks over to me again, and tries to steal the ball from me, but I hold my arm in his face and get past him.  I shoot the ball.  It goes in, and I catch it before tossing it back to him. 

“What’s up with that?,” he says breathlessly, dribbling the ball between his legs.  “Y’all were like, getting nasty in the sack the other morning.”

I laugh heartily as he grunts and tries to make his move.  Of course I block him, and score another point.  “It was just…touching,” I say, passing him the ball again.  “I know it’s weird but…I don’t know, it just kinda happened.”

“How does…” he dribbles and fakes a right, throwing me off guard.  “Shit like that just happen?”

I block him before he can get to the basket, and he tries to hold the ball over my head.  But I’m taller than his short ass and I grab it easily.  “Just does,” I smile, and shoot.  It doesn’t go in though, and Trace gets his chance for the rebound.  He catches the ball, and shoots…but he flubs it.  I get control again, and I don’t miss this time.

“Damn,” he rasps breathlessly, bending over, grasping his thighs.  “I hate this fu'ckin game.”

Out of breath, we both make our way over to the bench and sit down on it.  I hand him one of the bottles of water I brought out with me, and he accepts it gratefully.  “You’re outta shape,” I chuckle, lifting up my tee shirt to make sure my journal is right where I left it, before getting my own bottle of water.  “We gotta start benching together again.”  I open my own water and take a long swing, before looking at him again.

He lifts his shirt up a little, and wipes the sweat off his forehead with it. “Shit I know,” he sighs.  “I’ve been tryin to jog in the mornings but I never have the time.”

I laugh out loud.  “Mother fucker…you never jogged a day in your life!”

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he starts to laugh too.  “You know me too well.  But…stop changing the subject.”

I give him a stupid look.  “What subject?”

He sighs.  “Come on J.  I mean, I don’t mean to bring this up…but I know what happened to you.  I didn’t think that you were ready for…” he pauses and looks away from me.  “Things with Kerri.”

“Damn,” I say, before taking another swig of my water.  “It’s not like I had sex with her, Trace.”

“You looked like you were about to,” he chuckles, and puts the water down beside the bench.

I frown.  Is he really that naïve? Does he actually believe after everything that happened I would just go and sleep with Kerri? More so, does he think she would actually let me take that step with her after what I did to her the last time?  “Well we didn’t.  And…I think we’re going to be cooling it for awhile,” I nod.  “We’re not ready.”

He laughs.  “Well no shit, Justin.”

“I thought you would at least look at this in a positive way,” I sigh.  “I mean, she’s a girl…and I’m a guy.  And that’s the way things are supposed to be right?  So…maybe the gay thing is over and done.”

He rolls his eyes.  “I thought we covered this already.  We agreed that you were just messed up, and that you’re not gay…you were never gay.”

I did agree with him on that.  But it was only to get him to shut up.  I was getting fed up with his lectures as to why I shouldn’t think that way about myself.  So I lied…so sue me.  “You agreed,” I tell him.  “I just went along with it.”

“Right.”  He shakes his head in annoyance.  “And you complain that I’m avoiding you?  Damn Justin, you shouldn’t be 'going along' with shit.  You’re supposed to tell me how you really feel, remember? Madison says…”

“Fuck what she says,” I snap, immediately regretting it.  I know I don’t mean that, but I’m so damn annoyed with him right now that I can‘t keep my emotions in check.  “None of that matters right now.  I mean, everything about the plan she had for me is getting screwed up right now anyway.  You’re not focusing, so why should I?”

“I’m trying to focus,” he sneers.  “I just…” But then he cuts himself short, and rubs his face with his hands.

“You just what?” I whisper.  Maybe this is it.  Maybe he’s going to finally break down and tell me what the hell is going on.  Damn it.  I hate being in the dark.

“I just have a lot to do,” he bullshits, and gets up from the bench.  “Come on, lets go inside.”

“God, you know…fuck you man.” I remain seated and glare at him.  “I don’t even know you anymore.”

His mouth hangs open for a moment.  “Whoa…hold up.  What did I say?”

I finally get up from the bench, and grab the basketball off the pavement again.  “It’s what you didn’t say, Trace,” I mutter, before beginning to dribble the ball again.

“So now you’re pissed,” he whimpers.  “Great.”

I stop dribbling the ball and look over at him.  His face has turned a light shade of pink and I think…I think he might cry?  Weird.  This is too weird.  Trace doesn’t cry.  He just doesn’t.  I can hardly even remember a time that he cried for more than a few minutes when we were growing up.  Trace has always been the sane one, the thinker.  The brain behind all the sh'it we did that got us grounded by our parents.  It‘s weird to think of him as weak right now…as weak as me.  “Trace,” I whisper.  “Look, it’s okay.  I’m not that mad.  I just want you to talk to me.”

He sucks in a long breath.  “You’re my best friend Justin,” he nods.  “And…nothing can change that right?”

I don’t get it.  “Of course not.”

He stares at me for a good long time, and then his mouth opens.  I think he’s going to spill it, right here in front of me.  Just like I spilled my feelings to him that night on the beach. 

“Justin,” he whispers.

I walk over to him.  “Yeah?” I whisper.  “What’s wrong?”

He seems to be struggling with himself.  Biting his lip, and taking deep breaths every few seconds.  But in the end, he just shakes his head. “Nothin.  Sorry, I‘m just bein retarded again.  You know me.”  Then he smiles, a stupid fake a'ss smile.  “Let’s go have a soda or something…make sure Kerri still has most of her sanity.”

A sinking feeling forms in the pit of my stomach.  I know he’s hiding from me again.  But I don’t want to start another argument with him.  I know what its like to not want to talk about your feelings.  This is the same sh'it I pulled on him.  And…it just takes time.  It takes time to be that brave.  I just hope that he can find it in his heart to tell me whatever it is…

Before it’s too late.

My mom flew in from Tennessee the day before yesterday. I was happy to see her. Really, that’s the truth. It felt good to hug and kiss her again and hear her call me baby babe, as dorky as that is. I guess I’ve always been a momma’s boy though, and now that my life’s spun out of control I’m probably worse than I’ve ever been. But as much as I love my mother, I couldn’t hold back the feeling of discomfort that came over me when we got into my car. Being alone with her has been something I’ve feared since my return home from the House Of Horrors…

I don’t want her to know about…it.

I can’t remember a time in my life before the kidnapping, that I was ever uncomfortable around my mom. Like, I know most kids go through that stage where they feel that their parents are too old, and hanging around them makes them look stupid and immature. But I guess I can’t compare myself to them, because I didn’t grow up along with the masses. I’ve been performing ever since I was old enough to grab a microphone and sing, and my mom has been the most supportive parent in the world. She moved to Florida when I landed the MMC job, and she stuck by me after it got cancelled, so I could continue to pursue my career in this business.

Money was tight in those days, and she had to work odd jobs, waiting tables at night so she could take me to auditions in the day time. I’ll admit, it was hard; and at times I felt like I was pushing my mother too hard for my own selfish desires. If it hadn’t worked out I know we would have ended up even more broke than we started out. But…it did work out. JC met Lou and Johnny, told me about them, and after my mother and I had a short lunch with them one afternoon, the rest was history.

Then things were good…almost too good, up until this year anyway. This year, my ass got kicked back into reality in the worst way. I didn’t see it before, but now I do…I was starting to forget that I’m only human. That I’m not that much better than the average Joe on the street, and things can still get hard. I can still get hurt… I did get hurt. And I’m supposed to be able to talk to my mom about it. She’s supposed to be somebody I can run to for support, along with Trace and Kerri. She’s my parent, my mother, and I love her…

But rape. Rape is something that’s so disgusting, so…evil; I can’t bring myself to admit to her that it happened to me. That I let it happened to me. And that, I might have even wanted it to happen. Sitting in my living room with her last night, I tried to look her in the eyes. I haven’t truly looked my mother in the eyes since the kidnapping, and it’s been one of those things…one of those goals that I’m supposed to work on accomplishing before the end of the year. It’s stupid that something so simple is this hard for me, but…it is. And no, I couldn’t look her in the eyes last night. I couldn’t look her in the eyes when we picked her up from the airport either. Hell, I couldn’t even look her in the eyes when she made my favorite breakfast for me this morning.

I sigh heavily and put my feet up on the windowsill. That cat is here today, the one that likes me, and I smile as it jumps from the top of the file cabinet and onto my lap. It purrs, and nudges its head against my chest, willing me to pet it. I do, and it sits with me contently. It trusts me, it doesn’t think I’m abnormal or queer or a fag. That almost makes me feel good. But then again, it’s only a cat.

“So, tell me what’s been going on.” Madison leans back in her leather desk chair and rests her hands on her stomach. “How was the rest of the time with Kerri?”

“Oh…it was good.” I try not to hesitate, because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I’m not lying. It was good. Awkward maybe. But it was good all the same. “You know, we talked things out that day. I think we’re on the same page now, and she’s going to go on the road with us so…I think it’s going to be a really positive thing for her...for the both of us.” I’ve been sitting here, debating whether or not telling Madison about things with Kerri is a good idea. Granted, I know I’m not supposed to hold back when I’m here talking to her. And kissing Kerri, hell, kissing any woman right now is a huge step in my coping process. But if I talk, if I tell Madison about this, I’m almost positive that she’ll want to talk to Kerri about it. And I know Kerri won’t go for that. She’ll blame me, yell at me…and right now, the last thing I want is to be on bad terms with that girl.

Maybe I’ll be a sneaky little bastard today.

“Trace seems to think something is going on with you two.”

Fuck. I’m going to kill him. I don’t let my emotions show through though. I can’t. I need to seem calm, much better than I’ve been…ready to face the world. Or else she’ll tell them all that I still need guidance, and then I’ll be forced to take a crazy doctor on the road with me. “There’s nothing going on,” I force a light chuckle. “Besides the fact that we’re friends, and she’s helping me out with stuff.”

But Madison can see right through my lie. I hate it. She’s so young, yet so wise. She reminds me of my mother in a lot of ways, and it’s weird. She’s young enough to date me for Christ’s sake. “I need you to be truthful with me, Justin,” she nods. “You know that, and you know it’s the only way to make your therapy work the way it’s supposed to.”

I scoot the cat off of my lap, and remove my feet from the window sill. “What did he tell you,” I mutter, not quite meeting her gaze.

“Enough,” she smiles slightly.

“Okay fine,” I groan. “So I was comfortable, so I…so I kissed her. You can’t blame me.” I point my finger at her. “I mean, she wanted to do it too.”

“Justin.” Madison laughs and shakes her head, while writing something down on her legal pad. “I don’t think that this is a bad thing, and I’m not mad or disappointed in you. In fact, I’m proud of you for taking that step…finding that part of yourself again for the first time. Kerri is a good girl, a good friend to you, and she always has been. I suppose, I’d rather you have kissed her than any body else.” But then her smile fades, and she sighs a little.

“But…” I say, knowing there’s more to her speech.

“But,” she sighs. “I don’t think that now is the time to be exploring your sexuality, Justin. We’re still working on getting you past that first layer of pain inside of you.”

I cross my arms. “Oh,” I grunt. “So then I should just sit around, wondering if I’m a homo then, until it’s time to find out the truth?”

“Do you still feel that you’re gay Justin?” she counters, folding her arms under her breasts. “Now that you’ve kissed Kerri?”

I’m silent, and I try to lie to her and tell her no. But…I can’t do it. I can’t lie to this woman. So I admit it to myself. I still…I still have no idea what I am, and I feel like such a fool for trying to be somebody that I‘m not. What am I doing? What…what am I thinking about, wanting to touch and kiss Kerri like I have been? I’m going to end up hurting her more, I realize. And that’s what Madison is leading into.

“Justin,” she says, breaking my thoughts. “Please answer my question.”

“Yes,” I say quickly. I look away from her, so she wont be able to see the tears dripping down my face. “But I feel like less of a faggot when I kiss her, Madison. Is that wrong? Am I selfish for wanting to feel that way?”

“You’re reaction is typical for a rape victim,” she reassures me. “You want to feel like yourself. You want to make sure that you’re not that person he tried to turn you into. And, you and Kerri shared something special once, and now…that you’ve been faced with all of this, it feels right to kiss her. She’s the only woman that can understand, and accept your feelings. But Justin, you need to take some time with this. I would hate to see you rush into…,” she pauses and sighs. “You and I both know that you aren’t ready to take on any kind of sexual activity.”

I nod. “I know,” I whisper. “I just…I didn’t think okay? We’ve been sleeping in the same bed, every night Mad. You know, because Kerri really has a hard time sleeping now if I’m not next to her. And I don’t want to see her go without sleep. She’s scary when she doesn’t sleep, and she does things…like the drinking. I guess I just figured I could help her too.” I look down at my lap and shrug my shoulders a little. “But, I can’t help anybody. I’m too fucked up to help anybody.”

“That’s not true.”

Her response shocks me, and I look up at her in surprise. “What?”

“You’ve helped that girl more than you realize,” she points out. “You just cant see it, because she’s too stubborn to let it show. But think about it Justin. If you weren‘t doing right by her…she would have probably gotten on that flight to New York the minute Trace came home.”

Kerri is sticking around for my sake, and it’s something I’ve learned to accept. I feel bad about it…pulling her out of school, away from her friends…her future. But I didn’t think that I was helping her. I mean, I want to help her…but everything I do just seems to backfire. Not that I’m surprised. I’m such a freak, a failure…everything I touch seems to explode in my face. “I doubt that,” I sigh. “She’s staying here because she feels like she has to.”

Madison laughs. “She’s definitely not the type to do anything she doesn’t want to do, Justin. I knew that the first time I met her.”

I smile, just slightly. “She’s stubborn, that girl.”

“What about your mother,” she raises an eyebrow. “She’s here right?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “She flew in a couple of days ago. She wants to be around before I have to go back to New York.” I pause and scratch the corner of my mouth. “Like, I guess shes’ trying to evaluate me or something. She’s still hell bent on convincing me to bring a doctor on tour.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Angry.” I hug my knees to my chest, and rest my chin on the tops of my knees. “It’s my life, but she seems to think I don’t have the right to run it on my own. Actually, most people seem to think that way…including fuckin Trace.” I pick my head up and look at her, but she doesn’t’ seemed surprised at my comment. “Like, god, I don’t know what he told you…but right now I think he’s a lot more messed up than I am. He shouldn‘t be trying to run my life and fix his own. It‘s too much, and I can tell that he‘s not as like…focused, as he was before.”

“He’s having a difficult time coping with his breakup, on top of everything else that’s been going on,” she says. “He knows that he hasn’t been there for you lately like he should be, and he feels bad about that.”

“Well he should,” I mutter. “He doesn’t even talk to me anymore. I had to ream his ass the other day to get some kind of explanation out of him. I think…” I pause and sigh. “I think something is wrong with him. Like something he’s not talking about. I don’t know what to do for him Madison. Every time I look at him he seems so lost…and I mean yeah, it reminds me of how I used to be. But I’m not smart and together like Trace is. I can’t just…be there for him like he was for me.” I shake my head, and run my hand up and down the back of my neck. “I feel like the biggest asshole. I just wish I could have the confidence that I had before…just for like a day, so I could figure this out.”

“Maybe it would be best if Trace didn’t’ attend this part of your tour,” she tells me, the hesitation in her voice more than obvious. “I think he might need some time to think, and adjust himself before you go overseas.”

My eyes widen and I look up at her like she’s gone crazy…just like me. “No way!” I exclaim. “No…no he’s gotta be there,” I demand. “I can’t do this without him there.”

“It was only a suggestion,” she reassures me with a smile. “But, I think it’s one that you should take a little more seriously. I don’t feel that Trace is in a good state of mind right now, and he might need some time. You two should sit down and talk it over.”

I’m really starting to get the feeling that Trace told her something that I don’t know about. A…secret? He’s keeping a secret from me, but he can go and tell Madison about it? I feel stupid, shunned…under appreciated. I’m his best friend, not Madison. He’s supposed to tell me all his personal shit before he goes and tells it to her. “What did he tell you?” I mutter, angrily. “I’m in the dark here, Madison. And hell, so is Kerri. He’s our friend you know, not yours. We have a right to know what’ s going on.”

Madison sighs, and purses her lips together. She seems to plunge deep into thought, leaving me more confused.

“Madison,” I persist. “I’m worried about him.”

“So am I,” she finally decides to respond. “But that’s all the more reason why it’s not my place to tell you what’s wrong with him. This is something very sensitive, Justin. Something that he has to tell you himself.”

My heartbeat becomes more rapid, as a million horrific thoughts fill my mind. What is it? What the hell is it? Is he sick? Is he hurting himself? Does he have an addiction of some kind hat he’s been battling? God, I don’t have a clue. I want to scream at her, grab her by the shoulders and shake her…force the truth out of her. But of course I wont. Jerry will put me in the rubber room. So instead, I just sigh heavily. “Well what am I supposed to do? Like, you’re my fuckin’ shrink Madison. Don’t you think that this is going to make me worse?”

“I hope not,” she nods. “He’s asked me to keep this private, and I wont betray that trust, Justin. Just like I wont betray your trust when it comes to the rape, and your mother.”

She has a point there, but it doesn’t give me anymore reassurance about the situation. I can’t believe him. That he would go, and confide in Madison first, instead of confiding in me…or hell, even Kerri. What’s wrong with him? When did I become so damn untrustworthy? What’s so bad that he has to hide from me, like some kind of damn criminal? I know Trace. I know him inside and out. Like a favorite book that you’ve read from cover to cover a million times. And if there’s anybody that can understand what he’s going through, it’s me. I know pain. I know how it can creep up on you at the most random moments and take you over…stab at you over and over until you can’t take it anymore. I realize I have no choice but to confront him.

But confronting him is going to be extremely difficult. Especially with my short temper, and his stubborn attitude.

“I gotta get going,” I tell her bluntly. I’m disappointed in her I guess. I figured she cared about my feelings. I figured she would tell me anything that Trace told her, because I needed to know. But I’m quickly starting to realize that she’s not getting paid to kiss my ass like the rest of the people that work for me. She’s getting paid to sit here and help me sort out my head…but that’s all. And if somebody else, like Trace, wants to pay her to do the same thing to him…she’s not going to turn him down. And she’s certainly not going to break her doctor/client privileges to suit my needs. Hell, up until now I didn’t even realize that Trace talked to Madison as much as he does. I guess he feels he can trust her…I guess he feels that way because of how much she’s changed and impacted my life.

“Don’t leave here angry,” she warns me. “Getting into a nasty confrontation with your best friend isn’t going to resolve the issue. If anything Justin, talk things out with him and come back here with him if you have to. I’ll council the both of you, okay? Promise me you’ll do that.”

I simply nod. I can’t give her a straight answer, because hell, I don’t even know what’s going on with Trace. That’s the first step. I gotta talk to him again. I have to tell him that Madison told me something is going on. Right. Then he can’t just walk away from me or hide. He’ll have to tell me the truth. And then I’ll be able to help him by myself. Or maybe…Kerri can help me too. We don’t need to come back here though, that’s for sure. “I promise,” I force out.

“And I want you to call me once a week,” she says.

I realize that, oh yeah…this is going to be our last session for some time. Maybe even…ever. The tour is going to be long, and grueling. I know that, and I know I’m going to be too busy and too caught up with Kerri, and Trace and business and shit to really keep in touch with Madison like I should. I take a minute to reflect. To remember the person I was when I was first brought to her doorstep. Silent and afraid of the world…it had taken her two session to even get me to talk about being…handcuffed, taped…put on a bed…

I have no words to describe how grateful I am to her. Without her, without that help and this new confidence she’s given me, I know I’d be dead right now. Cut to pieces with a damn razor blade. “I’ll call you,” I whisper, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Or at least I’ll try.”

She smiles, just slightly. “I know.” She gets up and walks around her desk so she can stand before me. Then we hug. We hug for a long time. It’s a safe embrace…a comforting one.

“You’ll be fine,” she whispers in my ear before pulling back from me.

I can see the tears forming in her eyes, and hell, she’s going to make me start to cry too. But I don’t want to. I want to show her how strong I can be. How far I’ve come since the first time I had to leave her. “I know I will,” I smile a little. “I can’t even tell you…I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“Oh heck,” she waves her hand. “Just send me a copy of your show so I can show my niece, deal?”

I laugh heartily. “Come on Mad. You know it’s really for you and the girls.”

Her face turns pink. “Well…I guess you do know me too well, Mr. Timberlake.”

I do know her too well, and I smile; realizing I still have that charm I’ve always had. That magic that’s filled people’s heart and made them dance and sing right along with me. I realize I can do this. I can go out into the world and be that entertainer again, with all the confidence in the world behind me. All it is, is acting after all. A fake smile, forced enthusiasm for my supporters. And they’ll eat it up, and I’ll be right on top in no time. “Bye, Mad.” I shake her hand one last time, before walking to the door.

“Justin.”

I open the door, and spot Tiny sitting there, waiting for me, before turning back to face her. “Yeah.”

“I…” she begins, but then stops herself. Instead, she just smiles. “Good luck.”

And I know she’s not just talking about the tour.

****************

“Lord. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Lynn smiles, and embraces me tightly, before we sit down at the table.

I try to be calm, and I smile at her before picking up the menu to see what I want to eat. But hell, I’m not even hungry. My stomach is twisting and turning, knotting and unknotting itself over and over again. I’m terrified of being alone with this woman. Terrified of the questions she might ask me, and terrified of slipping up and telling her something she’s not supposed to know. Justin pulled me aside early this morning, and begged me to stray away from the subject of the kidnapping when I went to lunch with his mother. I got a little bit annoyed. Like, he didn’t trust me enough to have a nice, calm lunch with her, without disclosing something dark about our experience. It’s like, I’m not smart enough to think before I open my mouth. I told him that too, and he got upset.

“That’s not it,” he’d whined, and tugged at my hand. “Kerri…she just…you know how she is. She doesn’t understand most of this and hell, I don’t want her to. I don’t want her to know about all that shit. How dark it was and how…,“ he’d paused and sighed. “Just please, talk about the tour or fluffy little animals or whatever the hell you want. Just don’t talk about Shane.”

Lynn doesn’t have any idea that Justin was raped, and in that moment I realized just how important it is to Justin that things stay that way. I understand why of course. He’s afraid of what his mother will think. That she wont have the same kind of respect and love for him that she’s always had. I know that’s not true of course, but I wasn’t going to try and convince Justin of that. He still needs time with that. He has to trust himself…be confident in what happened to him first, before he can admit what he went through to his family. It’s not my place to talk about it. But…deep in my heart I know that Lynn didn’t ask me to lunch to talk about the tour or fluffy animals or whatever else Justin suggested I talk about. I try to hold back my smile. Fluffy animals?

What a retard.

“So, how have you been handling things out here?,” she asks me, a motherly concern apparent in her voice. “I know it was hard for you to just pull out and relocate like you did.”

“Um…” I lower the menu away from my face, and meet her gaze. “Well I mean it’s taken some getting used to.” Some? What am I saying? I changed my whole damn life around. My parents…they hate me. I talked to my father the other day on the phone, because he called me. He wanted to know if my credit card was working. Ha. Bastard. I told him that no it wasn’t, but that it didn’t matter because I didn’t need his money to get by anymore. That I had real friends, who were basically all the family I needed, and that they were taking care of me.

He started yelling, like always, and I basically just sat there on the sofa and took it all in. Trace had been sitting there in the recliner, and I know he could hear my father yelling into the phone. God, anybody could have. But Trace didn’t try to help…he didn’t’ come over and rub my shoulder like he normally does. After a while, he even got up and left. It sort of hurt me, but then…I know what’s going on. He’s not in the mood to comfort me, because hell…I’ve barely been giving him the time of day lately. I’m so…freaked out by what he told me. I feel like I can’t trust him, not even for a second. Because he might do something…go talk to somebody or bring somebody into my life that’s going to hurt me. Jesus, maybe I’ve really gone over the deep end this time. I mean, how can I be thinking this way about my best friend? He’s not a psychic, so how the hell could he have known who Shane was or what he wanted to do? But then…he didn’t do a background check on the son of a bitch either.

And Trace has never been the type to overlook something like that.

I’m not saying that he did it deliberately, because that’s just far fetched and ridiculous. But its just the fact that he let somebody so dangerous walk right into our lives, and get the chance to hurt us like he did…do things to Justin like he did. How can I forgive him for that? For being so irresponsible and stupid?

I can’t.

“I wish I could put into words how grateful I am to you,” Lynn tells me. “I honestly don’t know where Justin would be right now if you hadn’t come out and helped him when he was at the clinic. He really needed you then Kerrigan, and you did the right thing by coming out to help.” She smiles and reaches across the table to give my hand a rub. “I’m so proud of how mature you are…and how you’ve put the past behind you to get through this with him.”

I guess I am pretty mature, even though I’ve told myself time and time again that I’m crazy and stupid and selfish. “I wanted to help,” I tell her with a forced smile. “And I guess he’s helped me too in a lot of ways. I think I really just wanted my friend back,” I bullshit. “Three years was a long time.”

“Too long,” she sighs and shakes her head. “I just hope that you kids don’t decide to rush into things again,” she chuckles. “I’d hate to see everything you’ve gotten back just…die again.”

Well Lynn, I think to myself. You’re a little late on the rushing into things part. But you certainly don’t have to worry about your son sleeping with me anytime soon. And it’s only now that I realize how truly in the dark the woman is. She has no idea how scary the concept of having sex is to her son. She doesn’t’ know that he feels that he’s gay, or how uncomfortable he feels about being touched. Sure, she knows that some sicko in the clinic tried to touch him…but that’s the extent of it. To her, it was just one of those horrible things that happens in a place like that. She doesn’t know the whole of it. That Justin was…beaten, tied down, and raped by Shane. Part of me wishes she did, just so she’ll be prepared if something happens on the tour and he gets all freaked out. But again, it’s not my place to say anything to her about it. Justin would kill me, he’d be mortified. And I don’t even want to picture the look on Lynn’s face.

Of course she’d still love him, despite what Justin probably thinks. He’s her son, and she loves him very much. I guess it was hard enough on him, having to tell Trace, then Madison, and then having me find out too though. I guess three people is enough for now. But maybe, maybe I’ll talk to him about it. Try to convince him that he has to start coming out about all of this to his family. They can help too, and I know they want to. He shouldn’t’ have to live with that fear inside of him anymore…that they’ll disown him or something. Because I know they would never do that.

The waiter comes and takes our lunch orders. Lynn and I order the same thing, Chicken Caesar salad, and laugh as we do. Sometimes it’s funny, we have so much in common that we could pass for mother and daughter. When I used to tour with Justin in the summers, I would get mistaken for her daughter a lot of times by people who didn’t know any better. It made me feel good…wanted, loved; because Lynn went right along with it. I guess she liked having me around, because Justin is her only son…and while she loves him, I think she would have really liked to have a daughter too. I melted into that I guess. I couldn’t really rely on my own mother to comfort me and love me like that…but Lynn seemed more than willing to. So I went with it…I loved her so much. And I think its one of the biggest things I missed when I stopped speaking to Justin.

“How about a toast,” Lynn smiles. “What do you drink?”

You shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. Oh god. She has no idea. Drinking isn’t a good idea, not at all. Because if I have one, I’ll want another…and another. And when I get home, then…I’ll want another. Shit. I promised myself I was going to be better. I was going to stop, focus, concentrate on Justin. But Lynn doesn’t know I have a drinking problem, and she can’t know. Because if she finds out, I seriously doubt she’s going to want me having anything to do with Justin and this tour. So, I smile at her. “Long Island Iced Tea,” I decide, my mouth watering at the very sound of the words.

“Make it two,” Lynn smiles.

She starts to ramble on about different things. Paul…things back home. I think she might have mentioned my parents and Mary once or twice. But I can’t even focus. All I can think about is that drink. About how good its’ going to feel going down, and how after I finish it…I’m going to have another. Then it finally comes, and I have to literally sit on my hands to stop myself from grabbing it and slurping it down like a dog.

“A toast,” Lynn raises her drink in the air and smiles. “To new endeavors.”

I release my hands from under my thighs. Picking up the glass, I smile and clink it against hers. “Cheers,” I say quickly, immediately bringing the glass to my lips. I take the first sip. It’s small…and god, god it feels like a million years have gone by since I’ve felt this good. It’s soothing, wonderful. The pain from Trace, and daddy and everything else immediately begins to melt away at the taste. I want another. I want ten more…

But wait.

I can’t get plastered at lunch with Justin’s mother.

“Kerri.” She takes a sip of her drink and dabs her mouth with her napkin, before placing it on her lap. “I really…I hate to sound desperate.” She leans in closer to me, and sighs. “But I thought that maybe, you and I could talk about…things today.”

Oh no. Think Kerri. Animals…talk about fluffy animals? Oh great Justin. You’re a lifesaver. I clear my throat a little. “Uh.” I look down at my half empty liquor glass and frown . Yeah, I definitely need more of that. “Lynn I, I don’t know if I’m the best person to talk to about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she laughs sadly and shakes her head. “Lord, where is my mind right now? You’re absolutely right. I have no business trying to get you to talk to me about this. It’s only that, Justin hardly talks to me about any of it at all. And Trace well, you know how those boys are…secrets to the grave. I just thought that maybe, you could give me a little insight.”

Lynn is desperate for answers, and I can’t blame her. She’s worried about her son, her child. Like my parents should be worried about me, instead of simply their own well beings. I wish like hell that Lynn was my mother. Well…okay, maybe I don’t. Because that would make Justin my brother. And God, that’s disgusting. But I just…I want to be worried about that way too. I want my parents to sit up at night and wonder what I went through…wonder what they can do to make my life a little brighter. I feel myself grow jealous. Justin has this wonderful caring mother, who only wants to do right by him and make him all better…and he won’t even talk to her. Damn. Talk about taking things for granted. “Well I mean,” I begin, hesitating a little. That little voice is there, telling me to shut the hell up. But I wont listen to it. “What do you want to know?”

She seems relieved. “Is he going to be okay? I mean, I have no idea what yall even went through in that place. All I know is that one minute…he was fine, with his girlfriend, and they went to Hawaii. And the next thing I knew, I was sitting with him at dinner and he tells me that he’s cutting himself,” she hisses. “I…I don’t have any idea why he would have done something like that.” Her voice cracks a little, and she clears her throat a little before continuing. “I always thought I’d done everything in my power to make his pain go away when he came home to me.” She rubs her temples with her index fingers, as if all of this has been plaguing her mind for weeks. “But I guess I was wrong.”

“Justin is…” I try to begin, but I have to stop and think before I’ll allow myself to give anything away. I know I have to give her some kind of reassurance here. Because if I don’t, I don’t know who will. “He’s not struggling as much as he was.” At least that’s not a lie. I find the strength to sit up a little straighter, and I take her hand in mine. “Lynn,” I say confidently. “He’s going to be fine. He’s just resolving his issues the best way he knows how. You know he’s always been like that…to himself.”

She nods, and then smiles at me, as if I’ve just proven something amazing to her. “I know,” she says, laughing lightly. “I guess I just feel that, I’m his mother and I’m supposed to be the one taking care of everything.”

I shake my head, and really, I have no idea how I’m managing to be so confident and positive for her right now. I can still taste the liquor in my mouth. It tastes amazing, something I’ve missed. And I realize that I never intended on abandoning my habit. I love it. It’s something I need. Something I need to make me feel whole, and that’s a terrible thing.

“You can only do so much, Lynn,” I smile. “I’m sure when the time is right, and Justin is more relaxed, he’ll sit down with you and talk to you about everything. Right now…it’s just hard. It’s hard for me too.” I sit back in my chair, content that I’ve calmed Lynn down enough where she’ll stop asking me all these questions. Good. Now maybe I can get that second drink…

“You would tell me…if something happened to him,” Lynn speaks up suddenly. “Wouldn’t you?”

My breath catches in my throat, and I stare at her. I know I have to lie, and say yes. But I feel horrible about that. This woman…she’s done so much for me in my lifetime, and she shouldn’t have to be lied to. Especially by me. But I guess, I’m too loyal to Justin to tell her the truth. Too thankful to have his love and confidence in me to give it up for Lynn’s well being. It’s really selfish, and it makes me feel like even more of a horrible person; but I don’t feel I have a choice. “I would,” I nod. “I…I doubt I could hold anything too deep inside of me for long,” I lie.

And she buys it. Well, at least she seems too. “I guess it’s just going to take some time then,” she sighs, and takes a long swallow of her Long Island. “I know my son,” she reassures me. “And I know he’ll talk to me about all of this one day.”

I open my mouth to say something else reassuring, so she’ll stop feeling like an outcast for the moment. But I become distracted easily, when the waiter approaches again and offers us refills on our drinks. I happily oblige, maybe a little too eagerly. I look at Lynn quickly, thinking she might suspect something; that I have a problem. But she doesn’t seem to mind that I’ve ordered another drink. Really, she’s too busy gazing off into space. Hell, I could have ordered ten more drinks and she probably would have been oblivious. Her mind is in other places, thinking about much more important things than me and my problems.

But I’m used to that sort of thing by now.

We finish our lunch on a light note, talking about the upcoming tour and such. Then she drives me back to the house, and I ask her if she‘s coming in, but she says no…that she‘ll be back later. She tells me she wants to go shopping…she wants a new outfit for New York City. But really…I know she just wants to be alone so she can think about everything.

We say our goodbyes, and it’s three thirty by the time I walk in the house. I expect Justin to literally attack me with a thousand questions about my lunch adventure. But the only person I find, is Trace. He’s sprawled out across the sectional leather sofa, a bottle of some sort of alcohol in his right hand, remote control in the other. He barely glances at me as I walk past him, in search of Justin. But I’m not surprised. He rarely ever notices me any more, and if he does, he only grunts at me and nothing more. I’m not in the mood for his attitude at the moment though. I have no time for it. I need to find Justin, talk to him. He needs to know that his mother is suffering right along with the rest of us, and that she certainly doesn’t deserve to.

I wander into the kitchen, down hallways, into the office, and upstairs, before I finally end up in the living room again. Justin is nowhere to be found, and I look over at Trace, wondering if he even knows that or if he even cares.

“He’s not here.” Trace raises the bottle to his lips and takes a long guzzle of his drink.

Thank you Captain Obvious. “So where is he?” I mutter. I walk across the room and flop down onto the comfortable leather recliner, kicking one of my feet off the ground so I can be rocked a little bit.

He doesn’t look at me, only at the television. There is a game on, so I’m not surprised. But I know he’s trying to avoid me as well. “Marty took him to the gym after he got back from Madison‘s,” he finally says. “They’ll be back probably before six.”

It makes me feel good to know that Justin is out in the world right now, with a friend that he hasn’t seen in awhile. It means he starting to get there. He’s starting to get back to his life, and the real world. I should be happier, a lot happier. But I’m not. If Justin is gone that means Trace and I are alone. And we haven’t been alone since he broke down and told me about Shane. I feel my nerves start to take over immediately, and I wrap my arms around myself, taking a deep breath as I do so. I need to calm down because hell, he wont try to comfort me if I start to lose it.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks me. He gives me a disgusted look as he places his bottle on the table in front of the sofa. “Justin’s the only one you can talk to now, Kerri?”

He really needs somebody to be on his side right now, and I guess I should know that better than anybody. But I’m too overwhelmed by everything to console him. I can’t just…tell him that he’s shouldn’t be scared or nervous about the secret, because he has every reason to be. It makes me feel like shit, because I know he’s been there for me in the past. In the past when I was impossible and didn’t want help…he stuck around because he cared. And now, I’m supposed to still care about him too. And, I do care. I just…I can’t accept what he’s done as a simple mistake.

He could have prevented it.

“Look,” I finally say, managing to look him in the eyes. “You know what’s going on. I can’t talk to you because you’re off in your own world. I mean, I don’t blame you Trace…but you’re not going to get anywhere if you keep holding it all inside of you. And, it’s a really bad thing that you’re keeping it from Justin too. He needs to know. I mean, what’s going to happen if you wait til the tour? You think he‘s going to be able to deal with that right in the middle of all that chaos? God, Trace. I mean, I don’t want to have to put it like this…but, if you don’t tell him, I‘m going to.”

He sits up straight, and glares at me. “You think I haven’t been trying?” he snaps. “Fuck Kerri, I try every damn day! And every day…I wimp out. Christ, do you even know…” He lets out a disgruntled sigh, and rubs his face with his hands. “He’ll never speak to me again. And after losing my girlfriend, and--everything; I, I just can‘t go through that.” He sucks in his bottom lip and a slight sob escapes him. “I won’t make it.”

Deep inside I know he’s right about that, but I don’t want to believe it. I want to believe that, Trace will confess what happened to Justin. That they’ll simply talk it over and somehow come to an understanding. I mean, they’ve been friends this long. Trace is practically a brother to Justin, and I can’t just see Justin totally disowning him like that…

But then again, Justin and I stopped speaking for all that time. So maybe anything is possible.

“You know what it’s like to live this way?,” he whispers. “Like you just want to crawl inside yourself and disappear twenty four hours a day? I mean, my God…I did what I did and I can’t go back and change it. I can’t help that Shane was a sick bastard, and I cant’ help that he…he did that to Justin. You don’t even know…,” he pauses and shakes his head. “I would give anything to switch places with Justin…so it could have happened to me. At least I would have deserved it.” He crosses his tattooed arms protectively across his chest, his face starts to turn red…he’s about to break.

I don’t know what to say. Switch places with Justin?…God, no. That’s horrible. I would never wish that kind of terror on anybody. It’s just, too gruesome to even imagine. “Don’t talk like that,” I mutter. “Do you even know what you’re saying? Like… you would have wanted to be raped like that?”

“I’d do it for him,” he whispers. “I would, Ker.”

My mouth hangs open slightly, and I realize Trace’s feelings run much deeper about this whole thing than any of us have realized. It takes a lot to admit what he just did. That he would have endured that horrible torture for Justin, to make up for his mistake. It’s nasty, horrible…but I know he’s not exaggerating. It’s the truth…

And I feel sick to my stomach.

“I’m going to tell him,” he suddenly informs me. His expression is sad, lost…full of pain. “I just have to find the right time and place,” he nods. “But…it’s going to be soon. I promise that it’s going to be soon okay? Please…,” he whimpers. “Please don’t hate me Kerri.”

I feel it, that dull ache, and this time I don’t think it’s’ from the alcohol. I can’t bare to see him in so much pain right now, and the part of me that has always been his friend suddenly starts to spring back to life. I want to go over there and comfort him, and I almost make myself do it. “Trace.” The cautious part of me tries to hold me back, but I fight it. I force myself to get out of the chair, and I go sit beside him. It takes him a minute, but he finally gives in to his emotions. First comes a small whimper, then a sob, and then he’s leaning into me…crying like a baby.

“Shh.” I raise a shaky hand to his upper arm and rub it a little. “You’re going to get through this,” I reassure him.

“Please don’t hate me.”

I think it’s the only phrase that he knows right now, and I’m not going to complain. He’s a mess. Maybe an even bigger mess than I am. I realize all he needs to be doing is crying, getting out his aggressions now, so he’ll be able to keep a straight face for Justin later. And I guess it’s safer for him to be crying with me here, instead of off somewhere alone…where he can do a lot of damage to himself or somebody else. But despite this…despite the fact that I’m trying to comfort him right now, I still can’t deny the horrible truth. It’s just like he’s told me…

I’ll never really be able to forgive him for what he did.

Four days until VMA hell

Getting to spend time with my friends, has probably been one of the better things I’ve gotten to do since I started my life over again. I’ve been hanging out with Jason and Marty a lot, working out and going over choreography for the tour and shit. It’s great, familiar, and every time I’m out with them I start to feel more like myself. Like that guy I left behind when the kidnapping took over. And they’re so cool about everything. Like, they know all about the kidnapping, but they don’t really treat me much differently because of it. Sure, they get cautious with what they say around me sometimes, but it’s not like I can blame them. They’re my friends, they care…and they want me to be happy. I couldn’t ask for anything more from either of them.

Rehearsals have been a bitch. I didn’t even realize how out of shape I was, until I started coming to Crunch and working out this choreography with Marty every day. Jason’s been giving me hell about it. He thought that I’ve been working out on my own all this time I’ve been on leave. But that’s hardly the case. Normally, I would have. Back before all this bullshit took over my life, I used to love getting up at five in the morning and running a few miles, before coming back home to do push ups and get some time in on my weight system. But I’ve been such a fucked up mess these days, I just haven’t had the drive to do any of that. It takes a lot of attention and dedication to get a good work out in, and I just can’t focus like that right now. Jason, of course, can’t understand. But why should he? I haven’t told him, or most of the other people involved with my career, any details about the kidnapping. Yeah, they know what went down in Tennessee with the ransom and crap, and that Kerri and I were scared shitless for three days. But they don’t know how far it really pushed me…us. They don’t know about how I was cutting, or that…I checked myself into rehab. And they certainly don’t know about Butt---rape.

And I don’t think I’ll ever be strong enough to break down and tell them all about that stuff. Of course, what happened between Shane and I is something I don’t think I’ll ever talk about with anybody else besides the few who already know. But the other things like, therapy, I mean, I should tell Marty and Jason where I was all that time. Hell, they think I was in Hawaii for a month with Cameron,. That’s what Trace fuckin told them, and I can’t believe they actually bought into that. Cam and I have been split up for awhile now, and it was hard for them to understand why I would spend a month away on vacation with her, come home, and then not be with her anymore. They haven’t really asked me too many questions about it though. I mean, they can tell I’ve been through a lot, and I think they’re going to wait awhile…at least until the tour is over, before they sit down and ask me what happened.

So that means, I have all the time in the world to make up a really good lie.

“Fuckin hell.” I stop dancing, and stretch a little, before turning off the little boom box in the corner. I plod over to Trace, and take a seat on the floor beside him. There is random paper work scattered around him and he’s scribbling something down in one of his many notebooks...most likely something to do with my schedule. “I gotta find lighter work man,” I huff and shoot him a tired smile, before taking a giant sip out of my water bottle.

“Yeah,” he chuckles lightly, looking up from his writing. “Well you shoulda known better than to slack off all this time,” he reminds me. “I heard Jason reamed your ass the other day.”

I shrug. “He wishes he reamed me,” I wink. “He couldn’t intimidate a fly.” I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall, thankful that I’m finally getting a few minutes to myself today. We’ve been at Crunch since about seven thirty this morning, because I’ve been hell bent on perfecting my VMA routine before rehearsing for it in New York. I know it’s crazy, obsessive; but doing this…it really saves time. When I’m in New York, I don’t want to spend half the day in rehearsals. I want to do things, visit people I normally never get to see. And I can’t do any of that unless I’m a hundred percent confident in my performance. It’s funny, after everything that’s happened, I’m still the obsessive perfectionist I’ve always been. I refuse to have any noticeable flaws, be it physically or personality wise. But I guess that’s a good thing…

It’s the only way I’m going to get back into the swing of things.

It’s gonna be hot though…the performance. We’re doing a Senorita/ Rock Your Body mix, and the choreography is crazy. I love it, and it feels good to know that despite everything, I still get pleasure out of what I do. I can only hope that people still have the same respect for me that they did in the summer...before all this shit started. I guess I’ll find out. After the awards, I’m actually doing a show over at the Hammerstein Ballroom. My mom says the turn out is probably going to be a big one, but I’m not so sure. I think people view me as a freak now, and nobody wants to watch a freak perform . I don’t know though. Maybe I’m just paranoid. I made so much money this summer…sold out so many arenas and shit, that I couldn’t have faded out that quickly.

“You want me to go pick up lunch?,” Trace offers, beginning to gather up his paperwork. “I’m starving.”

I consider not eating for a moment. I mean, I had a big bowl of Special K for breakfast. That should have been enough. I really don’t want to gain any unnecessary weight before a televised performance. But I know that if I tell Trace that, he’s only going to yell at me for not taking care of myself. “Sure,” I say, as he pushes himself up from the floor. He holds his hand out to me and helps me up as well. “But I’ll come with you,” I nod. “I need some air.”

“Cool,” he agrees, and leads the way as we make our way out of the rehearsal room..

He’s been a little bit better lately. Not so dismal, not so secretive. Although, he still hasn’t gone into anything deep. Like, what Madison was referring to at our last session. I’ve wanted to confront him about that too, but I’ve just so been bombarded with rehearsals and work out time that I haven’t been able to sit down with him and just have a serious conversation with him. He’s been busy too. This week, he had to plan my agenda for the entire tour. No not like, the venue/date list. That’s already set. But it’s the other stuff he’s had to plan. Like the radio promo and the various interviews I’m going to have at each stop on the circuit. It’s a very time consuming process. Really, I don’t know how he manages to pull off half the shit he does for me. But he always does, he never complains, and I never have to ask him to do anything a second time. Sometimes I really wonder where the hell I’d be without him.

We tell Marty that we’re going to grab some lunch, and he laughs and tells us that ‘since we’re going, we might as well pick some food for everybody.’ Trace rolls his eyes, but takes his orders anyway. Then we finally manage to make our way out to the parking lot, and into Trace’s navy blue Z3 Roadster.

“What time do you think we’ll get done?,” he asks after several minutes, glancing at me slightly.

I laugh heartily. “Whenever Marty says he’s had enough.”

He seems let down by my answer. “Oh, all right.”

I stare at him. His expression is blank, but then I revert my gaze to his hands. They’re gripping the steering wheel tightly…too tightly. He’s stiff, tense, and I’m starting to get a little nervous; the conversation I had with Madison suddenly overwhelming me again. We’re alone now. Alone, and we both know something is horribly wrong. But will he tell me today? Will we park, eat our lunch, and talk about this stupid crap that’s wrecking our lives? Or will we just overlook the whole thing again, like we’ve been doing? Damn it, I don’t want to go to New York this way. I don’t want to have to smile, put on my happy face for millions of people, and have this shit plaguing me night and day. Hell, I’m enough of an emotional mess as it is. And Trace knows that.

“You think we can be a little late coming back then?” he speaks up, before I can think of a good way to confront him.

My mouth gapes a little. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s actually willing to start talking to me about this. I find that I can’t hold back the slight smile that creeps across my face. “Sure,” I tell him, nodding a little. “Why, what’s up man?”

He focuses his gaze back on the road. “I need to talk to you,” he whispers.

***********

We get all the food, and run Marty’s half back to him. After, we drive…we drive for a good half hour before we find a scenic lookout point a few miles from Crunch. It’s one of those tourist spots. The kind that have the binoculars you put the quarters in, so you can see the big Hollywood lettering in the hills. I was afraid there were going to be people around, and I almost told Trace to turn around when I saw where it was that we were going. But once I realized that there wasn’t anybody around…I made myself relax. It’s empty here, peaceful, and I think that Trace knew it was going to be all along.

We unwrap our sandwiches in silence, and begin to chow down. It’s a little awkward, I figured he would want to get to the point. But that’s Trace…his stomach usually comes first.

“Got Lakers tickets,” he says in between chews. “For tomorrow night.”

My eyes widen, and I find that I can’t hide my smile. “Shit, for real?”

He smiles, only slightly. “Yeah,” he takes a sip of his soda, and clears his throat a little. “The guy that prints up reports for the ref panel hooked me up…courtside and all. You wanna go?”

Do I want to go? Hell, of course I want to. I can’t remember the last time I got the chance to go see my favorite team play, with my best friend. I think it’ll be good for us…give us a chance to have one last peaceful evening before the chaos of my career comes back to haunt us. “Yeah man,” I smile. “It’ll be the shit.”

“Great.” A new sense of hope fills his expression, and I think I’ve put him at ease a little. I know its weird, but I think he’s thought I’ve been angry with him recently. And I’m positive that it has something to do with what Madison won’t tell me.

“Trace.” I look down at my sandwich as I say his name. “I…I don’t want to ruin the mood but…”

“Yeah,” he interrupts me. “I need to talk to you still.” He takes a deep breath, and finally looks over at me. “I just…wanted to ask you about the game before I forgot.”

“Right,” I say, uncertain of what’s going to come next. I wait a moment or two and then, I decide to bring our lightened conversation to a crashing halt. “So man, tell me. What’s going on with you?”

He sits up a little, and gazes into the distance. A despondent expression has taken him over, and I know that any moment now, yes…any moment, it’s going to come. “I don’t…” he pauses, and lets out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know how to tell you,” he whispers, finally meeting my gaze.

Seeing as how I’ve been coping so well lately, I decide to be the stronger person right now. I need to be…for him. He has to know that no matter what it is…what he’s going through, I’m still going to be here for him. I’ll stand by him, support him…just like he’s supported me. “Man, look,” I begin. “We’ve been through hell and back right?”

He nods.

“And you know, you were there for…all that stuff,“ I remind him. “You’re the best friend I have in the world Trace, so just know that no matter what it is…I’m not going to hold it against you. You can tell me okay?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I…it’s going to fuck everything up.”

“Trace please,” I persist. “Just tell me what’s going on. I‘m fuckin worried sick about you, man.”

He bites his bottom lip, and seems to battle with himself. In his mind his conscience is arguing with him, telling him that he needs to get whatever it is off his chest before it’s too late. But his pride…I realize that whatever this is, has hurt his pride so much. He’s been falling, spiraling downward in a whirlwind of secrets and lies. And it’s all been to protect me. “You remember Atlantic City,” he says suddenly.

Of course I remember Atlantic City. That day was a disaster waiting to happen. We woke up, Cameron and I smacked heads getting out of bed, but laughed of course. Breakfast had been worse. I spilled coffee all over my lap, and a few fans that had been up all night waiting for me laughed right in my face. To make matters worse, a few hours before show time, a huge lighting fixture fell from the rigging and landed on a few pieces of vital sound equipment, setting the tour back for two weeks. Thankfully, nobody was seriously hurt; but it did put a damper on things for a while. Thank god for Trace. He worked his ass off to get my show up and running again, doing a lot of major jobs for the tour that normally, he wouldn’t have anything to do with. It made me feel better to know that he cared that much, and I guess that’s why sitting on my ass for two weeks didn’t bother me as much as it would have otherwise. “Yeah,” I laugh. “But seriously man,” I sigh. “Stop avoiding the subject.”

He hesitates for a moment. “This is the subject.”

I look at him curiously. I have no idea what he’s getting at. All I know is, that was definitely not what I was expecting him to say. “What?,” I laugh a little. “Trace, you’re the most confusing mother fucker I know.”

He shrugs. “I tried to do the best job I could for you, J,” he says softly. “I rushed around. I did things on the set…I helped out all the tour production people. I…I did some hiring….”

“I know that,” I interrupt, flashing him a grateful smile. “Man I know all that. And you know how grateful I am to you. Is that what this is about…that you wont be able to do the job this time? Because I mean…if that’s the case--”

“That’s not the case!” he yells, banging his fist against the steering wheel. “Man Justin, would you just shut up and listen to me for five seconds!”

His sudden outburst causes me to lose my breath for a moment or two. I’m so confused. I mean, Trace never gets annoyed with me this way…not since the kidnapping anyway. What the hell is his problem? Why is he so angry? “Why are you yelling at me?,” I whimper. “I’m…I’m trying to talk to you.”

He lets out a long, miserable groan. “I’m…I didn’t mean to,” he tells me. “Justin, look…it’s probably better if I just get to the point.” He reaches across my lap, and opens the glove box. Reaching inside, he pulls out a folded piece of paper, and slams the door shut again. Once settled back into his seat, he stares at the paper in his hands for a moment, almost like he’s trying to send it some kind of message. Then…he hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask him. I can’t open it. I won’t open it. If I do…if I take that step, there’s no going back. I know something is wrong…very wrong, and whatever is on this paper is going to reveal the truth to me. The horrible, awful truth that’s going to leave us both more lost and confused than we are right now. And with the tour, and promotion and everything just days away, I don’t see how we won’t crack under the pressure.

“Please just open it.” His bottom lip trembles slightly, and he runs his hands through his hair. “I need…I need closure,” he tells me. “And this is the only way I’m going to get it…even if it’s the worst way to get it.”

I lick my lips, and thumb the corner of the paper. “No.” I shake my head roughly, and drop the page on my lap. “I can’t. I can‘t…take any more.”

“I know it’s hard,“ he whispers. He leans in towards me, a desperate look in his eyes. “But you have to,” he half sobs, half cracks. “Justin, please. I can’t, I can’t live like this anymore. Hell, Elisha left me,” he whispers. “I couldn’t tell her. So please, just open it so I can say that I at least did right by you.”

He’s done so much for me…been through so much with me these past couple of months, I guess I owe it to him to do as he’s asking. Hell, I practically owe him my life. So I do…I unfold the page, wincing as I do so. After a moment, I force myself to look down at it. And there, staring back at me with his cold, evil, black eyes…

Is Shane himself.

“Fuck,” I whimper, and throw the page away from me. I look at Trace like he’s gone crazy. What the hell? Why does he have a picture of Shane in his car, and why is he showing it to me? Is this some kind of sick joke? Has Trace turned into a drug addicted loser, who gets off seeing me helpless and vulnerable? “What…what the hell are you doing?,” I manage to ask him. “Why the hell would you show me that!”

“No…” he shakes his head roughly, and snatches the paper off of my lap. “You have to read it.”

He thrusts it in my face, and I close my eyes. But, I shouldn’t close my eyes. No…Open your eyes…they’re your best feature. I shake my head roughly, but still force myself to open them again, and this time…I take a good long look at the paper in Trace‘s grasp. Team Justin Employee File: Andrew Tomlinson-Road Crew Mother fucker. Fake name and all…“God…” I whine, and cover my face with my hands. “Put it away!,” I yell. “Why are you doing this!”

“I don’t know what the hell else to do!” He’s sobbing now. “Justin, look okay…I was rushing…I was rushing every day, because the show had to get up and running again. And I guess…look, he worked on the tour okay? I signed this paper…I gave him a job, and god I mean….Jesus fuckin’ Christ Justin. I’m so s-sorr-ry.”

I can hardly register in my mind what he’s just told me. I’m crying too, almost as hard as he is. The only thing I can think about is Shane, staring back at me from that fucking paper, mocking me. So you thought you were tough, he laughs. You ain’t so fuckin tough…and you’ll never be rid of me…

“Justin.”

“What about a background check?,” I moan. “What the hell were you doing?”

“…I didn’t have time,” he says pathetically. “There was just…so much I had to get done. And he seemed fine…god, I couldn‘t tell one from the next. Everything was a fuckin‘ blur between the tour and worrying about your schedule…” His voice trails off for a moment. “But…it happened.”

I can’t look at him. I can’t believe this. I won’t believe this. No, there’s no way…Trace isn’t that stupid. He’s always totally together…organized and trustworthy. This is Trace, my best friend; my brother. He couldn’t do this to me. Please God…tell me he didn’t do this to me. “Liar,” I moan. “Don’t tell me that shit, please. Tell me anything. Tell me you’re doing drugs, that you’re drinking too much. But don’t…don’t you even tell me that shit is true, Trace.” I finally manage to look him in the eye. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He stares back at me, a dumbfounded expression on his face. The tears are dribbling down his face in heavy, thick trails and I know I’ve never seen him this upset before. Trace never cries, ever. And so I guess that means this is all true…that he did this. He did this to me. He…he let Shane turn me into this broken down shell of the person I used to be. And Kerri…Kerri too. He fucked Kerri over in the worst way. God. He let this fucking happen to us…

“I wish I could…tell you differently.” He hiccups and sniffles, hanging his head low. “But I can’t change anything,” he whimpers. “It’s my fault.”

“Fuckin hell, of course it’s your fault,” I snap. My vision is blurred by my tears, and I rub at my eyes so I can see him more clearly. Although, I don’t know why. I don’t want to see him right now, don’t want to look at him. I don’t’ want to let it all sink in; that my best friend…the guy I slept in my crib with when we were in diapers…let it happen. He let that sick bastard walk into my life, watch me…my every move, until I was alone and vulnerable. He let him scare us, torture us…

Rape me.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look at me, only down at the dash board. He’s still crying too, but I don’t care . Go on asshole…cry. Cry because you know it’s your fault he put his dick in my ass.

“Fuck, don’t tell me--” I shake my head roughly, and grit my teeth. “Don’t say you’re fuckin sorry because it’s not going to change shit!” I feel like punching him…I feel like pulling him out of this fucking car that I helped him…god…that I helped him to buy, so I can kick the crap out of him. Just like Shane kicked the crap out of me. I realize now, that somebody can still pay for this…Trace can pay for this, because Shane and Nathan aren’t alive to deal with it. I still have somebody that I can put the blame on. And its sick, psychotic, but it almost makes me feel better to know that.

“You’re looking at me like you want to kill me,” he whispers. “Justin…”

“I wish you were dead.” I hear the words come out of my mouth, and my eyes widen a little. But I wont take it back, because I realize that I meant it…every word of it.

He shrivels back in his seat, and starts to sob uncontrollably. God, why did I say that? I mean, I know I meant it but…I didn’t mean to just blurt it out. Jesus, I’m losing my mind. I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can barely breath. I just…I need to get away from him. Yes. That’s the best thing. But hell, he’s a fucking mess. He’s in no condition to take me anywhere, and I’m certainly not going to try to make him. I realize that I’ll have to drive, even though I’m still not supposed to.

“Forgive me,” he manages to get out through his sobs. “Please.”

But I can’t.
*************

I went for a run. I guess all this working out that Justin’s been doing has sort of inspired me to get up off my ass and do something with myself. Before…when I was more confident and less paranoid of the outside world, I used to go running all the time. Central Park was the best. Especially at five in the morning, running down the trail, seeing the sun rise up over the trees. I ran hard today, fast. It made me feel good, I managed to work out some of the aggressions that have been plaguing my mind for months, and I started to wonder why the hell I hadn’t tried doing this awhile ago. I think I’ll start doing it more, even though it’s going to be much harder now since I’ll be on the road. But hell, it’s not like I have an agenda. I’m sure I can go running in each city we visit. It’s not like I have to worry about screaming fans, or paparazzi like Justin does.

Man, sometimes it must suck being a pop star.

“Justin!” I say brightly, pushing my way into the house. I went out to Borders to pick up some books about stress relief, and coping and all that psychotic crap. I figured we could use some reading material on the tour. Since Justin isn’t having a shrink come out with us, I assumed he would need something to indulge himself with that would tell him he’s not completely nuts. Well…besides me anyway.

Once inside the house, I pause, and listen for him to tell me where he is. But I don’t hear anything. Funny, it’s way past four, and he said he’d be home around three. A small part of me starts to worry about him, but then I laugh it off. I know how much of a perfectionist Justin is, and chances are, he’s probably still at the dance studio with Marty. With a tired yawn, I make my way upstairs to change into non sweaty attire. I hear the shower running immediately, and I smile, knowing that Justin is probably in there. “I hear you!” I call out to him. “Hurry up so I can show you what I bought!”

But there is no response.

A wave of terror grabs hold of me almost immediately. It grips me by the shoulders, and shakes me…screams at me: something is very wrong. I don’t hesitate. Two seconds later, I thrust open the bathroom door, and when I glance over at the shower, I can make out a human figure through the tempered glass of the shower stall door. By the broad build and shaved head, I know it’s Justin. He’s sitting, his arms wrapped around his knees, and I don’t know what the hell happened. But then I think…Trace…Trace isn’t home.

Oh god.

“Justin.” I know he’s naked, and so I don’t open the door. I don’t know what he’d do, and I’m not going to risk hurting him any more than he already is. “Justin, it’s me.”

The door slides open, just a crack. I can’t really see his face, only his eyes. They are red, bloodshot. He’s probably been crying for a long time, and I wish like hell that I could make all of his pain go away. But I can’t. I can’t do anything. I lean in closer to the crack, expecting a warm burst of steam to hit me in the face, but I feel nothing. A few droplets of the water manage to escape and land on my face, and then…I feel it. The water, it’s freezing cold. So cold, that I know if I don’t get him out of there soon he’s going to get terribly sick. “Justin,” I whisper again. “Please…you have to come out of there.”

“It hurts.” It’s the first thing he says to me and all I can think is…god, he cut himself again?

“What happened?” I whisper. “Did you cut?”

“No,” he whimpers, like a small child. “I wanted to.”

I take a deep breath. “What happened to Trace?”

But he doesn’t seem to hear me. “It hurts, Kerri,” he whispers.

I’m really nervous about opening the door and seeing…everything. But I know I have to help him. He’s mental right now. He’s not thinking, and he needs my help. “I’m going to open the door,” I tell him. “Okay?”

“I don’t want you to see me,” he say quickly.

I bite my lip and sigh. “But Justin, you’re going to get sick. Look, it’ll only take a second. I’ll get you a towel…” I glance behind me, and see a large bath towel hanging over the bar on the wall. I yank it a little, and it falls to the ground. I hold it up to the crack so he can see it. “Here, look, I have a towel for you…I wont see anything.”, I reassure him.

A few heart wrenching minutes of silence pass, and then…the door slowly inches open. Little by little, the rest of him is revealed to me. He’s sitting directly under the downpour of water, arms wrapped around his knees, chin resting on his kneecaps. His skin is pink, shriveled. And I’m sure he’s been sitting here for a good couple of hours. “Come on,” I whisper, trying to keep my composure. I turn off the water, and I see him shiver a little. Then he looks up at me. His lips are blue…and his teeth are chattering. “God, look at you.” I hold the towel open to him. “Come on Justin,” I will him out of his position. “You can’t get sick right now.”

He sobs a little, but finally, he gives in. He untucks himself, and crawls out of the shower stall and into the towel. I do my best not to look at him…any part of him that might set him off, and I wrap the towel around him securely. Warm in my arms now, I guess he feels safe. He leans his head into the crook of my neck, and starts to cry. He starts to cry, like he cried the day he shot Shane and Nathan. He can’t stop. I force myself to look down at his hands…fearing the worst, and I see it. They’re shaking…so bad. I reach down and grab hold of one of them. “Shh.” I kiss the top of his head and rock him a little. I know exactly what happened, I don’t have to ask him questions…for once. “You’re okay.”

“It hurts so bad,” he cries into me, snorting and sniffling. “I told him…I told him I wished he was dead,” he says, hysterically.

I gasp a little. “God, Justin,” I whisper. “Tell me you didn’t.” I know how heart wrenching Trace’s secret must be to Justin. Knowing that…Trace interacted with the bastard one on one, must be doing a lot of damage to him. Enough damage to make him say crazy things. Like…what he just told me he said. God, I mean, I’m freaked out about all of this…I know I am. But I don’t think I could have told Trace something so…awful. He’s still my friend. A slightly estranged friend, yes. But still…a friend. I don’t know what to do, what to say…

“Did you know?” He looks up at me after a moment, a longing, desperate expression on his face. “Did you know what he did, Kerri?”

I suck in a long breath, and bite my lip. I should tell him. I need to tell him. But, if I do…if I tell him I’ve known all this time, what will it do to him…to our recently patched friendship? I know how he is, and because of the way things have been going between us lately, I know he’s been expecting me not to keep anything from him. Hell, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from him in the first place. I mean, he hasn’t been keeping anything from me. He’s been totally open, honest; and I feel like such a two timing ass for keeping something like this a secret. But I didn’t do it for me…

I did it for Trace.

But I guess that makes me just as guilty about the secret as Trace is. And because of this, I wish like hell that Justin wasn’t confiding in me right now. He has no idea…no idea that I’ve known, and what a horrible person that makes me for keeping it from him. After all, it’s Shane…and Shane is his business, because he got dealt the bulk of the pain that we received in that place. “I…” I try to tell him the truth. I really do. But…if I lose him…if I lose him I think I’ll die. I realize I love him. I’m in love with him as much as I used to be, even if we can’t be together right now. And call me selfish…call me anything, but I can’t just throw our relationship down the drain again. Not so soon after I’ve gotten him back. He makes me whole, he makes me stop caring about the liquor, about the dreams. I can be me when I’m with him…kissing or not kissing. And I just…I can’t let go of that. I can’t tell him the truth right now.

“Kerri,” he whispers, obviously upset that I’m not answering him. “Tell me.”

“No, I didn‘t know,” I force a believable tone. “What do you mean? I mean, what did he do?”

He forces himself to sit up a little, and pulls the towel tighter around his waist, so I wont be able to see past his navel. He sniffles, and coughs a little, but somehow…he manages to gain control of himself for me. He’s still cold, I can tell…but I know telling him to get dressed wont help him right now. He’s not in the mood to take orders, and I know that. “Kerri I…Jesus…” He rubs his face with his hands, and lets out a long sigh before continuing. “I don’t even know how to tell you this. I don’t want you to hate him. I…don’t even want to hate him. But my god, it’s just so fucked up…this whole thing.”

“Justin.” I take one of his hands and give it a reassuring squeeze. “You know you can tell me,” I whisper, trying not to break down in tears…trying not to give myself away.

He leans into me again, thankful that I’m here. Thankful that I want to listen. “You know…you know he…Shane, he worked for me.”

I start to think about Trace and where the hell he is right now. I’m worried as shit. Is he hurting himself? Is he drunk, and driving around like an idiot? I don’t have a solid answer, so it makes me worry, and in turn…I can force a fake sense of shock for Justin. Jesus. I’m such a conniving little bitch. “Oh my god,” I say, my eyes wide. “Wait…” I give my head a confused shake. “What?”

“He did,” Justin whimpers. “And today…Trace told me that he’s the one responsible for hiring him. I can’t fucking believe it Ker…” he pauses, and sobs a little more. “Trace caused this whole thing.”

I should defend my friend right now. It’s only right, because in reality…Trace never meant for anything bad to happen. Sure, I blame him…because I’m a fucked up mess that can’t handle anything. But I shouldn’t let Justin feel the same way. Justin needs Trace right now. He needs to be able to talk to him, confide in him about the rape and his career and everything. Hell, we’re leaving for New York in two days, and if Justin and Trace are having problems…Justin’s career is never going to get off on the right foot. “No.” I blurt out. “Justin…he couldn’t have known…it’s not his fault.”

“But if he didn’t’ hire Shane…”

“If Trace didn’t hire Shane, he would have gotten to you somehow,” I interrupt. “And I mean, who knows? Who knows how things would have turned out if they didn’t go down the way they did?”

He pulls away from me then, seemingly offended that I’m defending Trace right now. “I wouldn’t have been fucking…raped, Kerri. That’s how things would have turned out,” he seethes. “I would have…I would have been prepared. I would have fought back.”

“How!” I’m letting myself slip right now, and I know I shouldn’t be. If I say the wrong thing…if I let him find out I’ve known about this all along, he’ll hate me. I can’t let him hate me. “For all you know…if…if he didn’t get hired, he could have simply waited for you outside your hotel and taken you!” I start to sob, realizing how true my statement actually is. “And, what then Justin? What if he decided not to hold you for ransom? What if…you simply disappeared?”

He stands up, and looms over me; a cold, menacing look in his eyes. “What are you putting those thoughts in my head for?,” he grunts. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true,” I whisper, not understanding why I’m saying these things to him right now. If anything, I’m making him angry with me, when all I meant to do in the first place was cover my ass like a selfish little bitch. But I quickly realize that I’m not like that. I’m not all about myself, and deep inside of me…I know Justin is wrong to put the blame on Trace for this. Just like I’m wrong to blame him for it. I realize that I need to take it upon myself to apologize to Trace…for our friendships sake. And I will…I mean, if he’s okay…

Oh God.

“What the hell do you know!” he screams, pointing a finger at me. “You weren’t raped Kerri! You weren’t…beaten….your ribs weren’t broken okay? All he did was lock you in a shed! You act like…you act like it was something so fuckin horrible, and you know…I’m tired of worrying about it!” He points to his chest roughly. “Who cares if you were tied up! Who cares if it was dark! It doesn’t even compare okay?,” he sobs. “It doesn’t even fuckin compare to what happened to me.”

My mouth gapes, and I stare at him; truly shocked this time. In a million years, I never thought he would snap and turn back into the cold person he was before I left to go back to New York. Yes, I know he still has problems…and today I’m sure Trace pushed him to the brink of his sanity. But to stand here, scream at me…and tell me what I went through at that house isn‘t a big deal? Just…no. That’s just wrong. “How could say that,” I whisper, slowly rising off the cold bathroom floor. “You aren’t me,” I whimper. “You…you have no idea. I was locked in there for hours Justin! Fucking hours! I couldn’t breathe…I thought, I thought they were going to leave me in there to die on my own.” I back up against the wall and cover my face with my hands.

“I don’t care,” he tells me, sternly. “Try getting a dick shoved in your ass…and then tell me you wouldn’t rather be locked in a shed.”

I uncover my face, and stare at him. I realize I’m not going to get anywhere with him right now, because he’s too blinded by his rage to care. “Forget it,” I mutter, and try to shove past him…but he shoves me back into the bathroom. I gasp a little, but I don’t get another chance to get away from him. He shoves me against the wall, and I let out a frightened moan…but he doesn’t seem to care.

“So you’re siding with him,” he snaps, bringing his face close to mine. “After everything we’ve been through together…you’re going to side with that pathetic mother fucker?”

“He’s our best friend,” I manage, just above a whisper. I struggle against his grip, but then…he places both of his hands on my shoulders, pinning me against the wall. I’m terrified. I don’t know what he’s capable of. All I know is that I don’t trust the look in his eyes right now. It’s barbaric, cruel…and I don’t even know if he’s really seeing me at all right now. “Justin…please…you‘re being impossible. Trace couldn‘t have…”

“Just shut up!,” he barks at me. “Excuses! All you do is give me excuses! You‘re just fucking like him!”

Then he slaps me across the face, hard; and lets go of me. I let out a pained shriek, and I feel myself slide down the wall. I start to cry almost immediately, clutching the throbbing side of my face with my right hand, before I feel my butt hit the floor. I realize it’s the side that Nathan slapped that day in the car, and thinking about that…how scared I was then…it makes me cry even harder. “Oh my god….” I wail.

“Kerri.”

His voice is soft, weak, like he doesn’t know what he’s just done to me. Hell, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he was in a blind rage, but still, that’s not an excuse. I find that I can’t even look at him. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t…I don’t even know him anymore. Justin…the wonderful Justin that I thought came back to me recently, is gone.; lost in his confusion and depression all over again. But I won’t blame Trace this time. I realize it’s not his fault. None of this was ever his fault, and I was totally wrong for thinking he was to blame. It’s Shane that made Justin this way. It’s Shane that was psycho and planned it all out and kidnapped us. Damn him…damn him for getting to die and not having to be here to deal with our misery.

“Oh god…god I’m sorry…,” Justin whimpers. He crouches down in front of me quickly, and reaches out to pull me close to him. I want to shove him away…tell him to go to hell, but fuck…I still love him. I still love him, and I know…I know he couldn’t’ have possibly meant to hit me like he just did. Maybe I’m in shock. Maybe I’m crazy. Hell, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m wrapped up in his strong arms, my head is resting against his bare chest, and I can’t say anything, because I don’t think there are any words for my feelings right now. His embrace…it’s helping. And that’s the only thing I know for sure. I feel myself start to cry again…long, hard, uncontrollably. And he lets me. He’s patient. He’s my Justin again…just like that.

“God, god I’m sorry,” he repeats. “Jesus Christ…I’m sorry.” He rocks me in his arms and kisses the top of my head. “Please don’t leave me…please Kerrigan…please.”

“I wont,” I somehow manage to say through my crying and sobbing. “I wont.” And I know it’s the truth. Because as far as my sorry ass goes, I don’t have the strength to leave Justin behind. Not again. Not after everything that’s gone on between us…and not after everything he’s done to help me through this aftermath. He lost it, that’s all. He just…lost it. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t see…it just happened. And I know I can forgive him. I can forgive him, and…and I can forgive Trace too. We’ll all sit down, and talk. Then we’ll start over, and life will change for the better. There won’t be any more nightmares. Justin and I…we won’t be paranoid anymore. We’ll move on…be happy…

I pull away from him. He did. He really did. “Why did you do that,” I say to him, after I regain a little more control of myself. “Why?”

He shakes his head roughly, and rubs at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” he sobs. “You gotta believe me, please. ‘Cause…‘cause she didn’t believe me and she left, and God…you can’t leave me, Ker. I swear, I couldn‘t take it.”

The realization that this has happened to Justin before, slaps me across the face like his hand did just moments ago. I think…Cameron. Right. That’s why they broke up. It wasn’t because of ‘differences’ as Trace told me originally. Somehow, some way…he hit her too. Only, she was strong. She wasn’t going to put up with that. He hit her and she walked out. It was the right thing to do. It’s what I should do…

But I’m so pathetic that I wouldn’t dream of it.

“You have to promise me…” I say sadly, taking one of his hands in mine. “You have to promise me that this won’t happen again.”

“I would never lay another hand on you,” he whimpers, running his hand down the side of my face he slapped. “Never.” He shakes he head, and plants a soft, loving kiss on my reddened cheek. “Kerri…”

“Shh,” I hiss. “Just…don’t okay?”

And he nods.

“One of us needs to find out where Trace is,” I tell him, as calmly as I can. “Okay?”

He clears his throat a little. “I’ll try his phone,” he rasps, and starts to get up from the floor. I can tell he’s trying to be calm too, but then…he starts to sob; and a moment later he’s crying all over again. “God. Kerri, really…I’m so sorry. I’m a fuckin monster okay? I don’t deserve to be around women…any women.”

“Justin.” I get up from the ground, and manage to make my way over to him. “It was a mistake.”

“Hitting you isn’t a mistake,” he says, putting a hand on either side of my face. “I love you okay? And…hitting you, God, I don’t have any fuckin place doing that. You should just get away from me…I should just…be locked away…”

“Stop.” I start to sob again. I’m so confused, and tired, and nauseated. I don’t want to think about what just happened anymore. But I can’t block it out. For one, Justin isn’t about to let it go, and I mean, I’m still in shock. It’s all going to seriously affect me later on…when I’m alone. I realize how awesome a drink would be right now. Really awesome. “I need to be alone,” I tell him.

But then…he pulls me close to him, and plants his lips against mine. I don’t stop him, partially because I’m too tired, and I guess also because…I don’t really mind it. I mean, he said it…he said he loves me. But hell, what am I thinking about? It’s not that kind of love, stupid. Thinking this, I quickly break the kiss. “No!” I whimper. “You want to confuse me more?”

He backs away, and looks down at the ground. “No.”

“Call Trace,” I whisper. “Okay?” I leave him alone in the bathroom after that. I know I shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be alone right now. But I mean, the house is still under lock and key. He’s not going to cut himself with anything that’s lying around in the bathroom. I need to be alone…and think. What does all this mean? Fuck…what the hell just happened?

I throw open the door to my bedroom, and slam it shut behind me forcefully. I stagger over to the big vanity mirror, and it’s only then…that I see the damage. The welt is big, noticeable on my right cheek. It’s a little purple right now, and I know in about an hour or so, it’s going to be as black and blue as the welt Nathan gave me that day in the car. I can’t believe this. That he would do this…hurt me like this. For a moment, I even consider it…leaving. But I know I can’t. I’m in way too deep now, and I can’t just give up on him…even if what he did was so horrible it makes me sick to think about it. I have to be strong, get through today. We have to find Trace, get him home…and we all have to talk things out. But can I even wait that long to talk to somebody about what just happened? No…I think I’ll lose my mind. But I just…I can’t even look at Justin anymore today. I need my space from him.

For the first time ever, I glance at the phone, and think about calling Madison. It’s crazy, insane…and hell, I don’t know what she’ll do to Justin if I tell her what he did. Will she throw him back in the clinic? God, I can’t let that happen. It will ruin him. Completely ruin him. But what other choice to I have? I have to do something, calm myself down by talking things out. And Madison seems to be the only person that I can trust at the moment. Without another moment of hesitation, I pick up the phone on the nightstand, and dial the familiar number.

“Orange Valley Psychiatric…”

But I can‘t even get the words out. I’m terrified. Terrified of talking to this woman about anything, because if I do…I know I‘m going to end up telling her a lot more than I want to. So…I don‘t say anything.

“Hello?”

I hang up.

Too frustrated to continue writing about all this crazy bullshit, I silently close my tattered journal, and shove it under my thigh. I stare at Trace, as he empties yet another drawer full of his clothes into his suitcase, praying that he‘ll say something…anything to reassure me right now. But he says nothing to me. He won’t even look me in the eyes. He just packs. Quickly, rapidly; as if he can’t wait to get the hell away from me. It kills me to see him doing this, leaving. He’s leaving me…abandoning me. Just like Kerri did…just like Cameron did. After everything that’s gone on, he’s the last person I expected to give up on me. But…he is. But then again, I can’t say I really blame him either.

I want to call out to him. To beg him to reconsider, tell him I didn‘t mean what I said. But I know I can’t…because I’d simply be repeating myself. We’ve been over this and over this, more times than I’d like to remember over the past two days. And we agreed…well, he agreed…that he’s not comfortable being in the same house as me right now. He told met that I have Kerri, and that I’ll be fine. But that…

But that he’ll kill me if I ever lay a hand on her again.

Trace finally came home, the night following my infamous blowout with him. Kerri and I were worried sick about him. We didn’t have a clue where‘d he‘d gone to all that time, and he hadn’t answered or returned my phone calls, or Kerri’s phone calls either. We’d been fixing dinner together around seven, trying to talk things out…trying to decide what were going to do if Trace didn’t’ call within the next twenty four hours. We both knew that I had to go to New York regardless of what Trace was feeling about all of this, and yeah, it made me mad. But that’s how this business is. Most of the time, my personal life is forced to come second, and I really don’t know how I’ve managed to live my life this way for all these years. Though, I guess I was a lot different before all of this happened. Things…didn’t effect me so much. I could kick back, be carefree…not really care if that guy on the other side of the street was staring at me funny. I could laugh at him…at all of them…

I don’t really laugh much anymore.

So, anyway, when he walked through the door, trailing a nervous looking Elisha behind him by the hand, I practically fell to my knees in shock. I hadn’t told Kerri, but deep inside, I’d feared the worst had happened to my best friend. Like I’d pushed him too hard, and that he’d gotten hurt in the worst way possible. And god, I was so thankful that he wasn’t harmed. I realized then, that if something had happened to him; if he’d gotten hurt or God, killed…that would have been it for me. I would have gone straight to the bathroom and slit my wrists or something. But…he wasn’t harmed…he was right there, with his girl. And I figured it was okay to be happy about that. I’d even smiled at him, quickly forgetting how much I’d probably hurt him. The selfish part of me had taken over, again and all I really cared about at that moment was that he was alive, and that my ass was off the hook once again.

“Jesus, Trace,” Kerri had wandered over to him, and shaken her head. “You should have called or something. I mean, my god…”

But he cut her off quickly, as he tends to do when he wants to get to the point. An intense expression of concern spread across his face…and he ran his hand down her bruised cheek. “What the hell happened to your face?,” he’d whispered, glancing at me after a moment.

“It’s um…” But she couldn’t get the words out. The next thing Kerri did was look to me for an answer. But hell, I don’t know why she thought I’d be able to provide one.

I’d froze, not being able to believe that I forgot about cracking Kerri across the face. How the bruise had formed into a large purple welt on the right side of her face, nearly identical to the one that she’d received from our captors when we were taken. I guess I was just so overwhelmed with the site of Trace standing there though, that nothing else had mattered to me. But…I received a rude awakening when the next thing that I heard was:

“What the fuck did you do, Justin?”

I remember looking at him. I remember not saying anything. And then I remember…him slamming me up against the wall. I’d been afraid; the vision of Shane standing before me, his gun shoved to my head, quite visible in my mind. Trace sort of started to mutate…like Doug had in the clinic. Like Cameron had when I’d hit her that night. Like Nathan had right before…right before I shot him. But this time, I didn’t’ start swinging. I didn’t start threatening or yelling. I just stood there, and let him pull me back and throw me roughly against the wall again. I’d whimpered…and then Shane was there, but this time I was ready. I’d learned how to drive him away. Madison taught me…she’d taught me well…

And I didn’t make a damn sound after that.

“What did you do to her!” He’d shaken me roughly. “You did it again, didn’t you…didn’t you!”

“Trace, stop it!” Kerri had screamed, her small, slender hands grabbing at his arm. “Please!”

It was all too familiar of a situation for the both of us, and I knew that. I remembered the basement, how Kerri and I fought. How I threw those stupid, ignorant comments at her. And then…how Shane had come, and changed my life forever with his fuckin twisted mind. I‘d tried to hold back the words forming on my tongue. But I was so terrified. Terrified of Shane and his gun, and I was desperate to make him stop. “Don’t do it, Shane,” I’d whimpered, struggling to break free of his grasp. “Please.”

“Baby.” Elisha’s soft voice was the next thing I’d heard. And then, Shane changed again. I saw Trace once more, and finally…he let go of me and backed off.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he sneered, pulling Elisha into a hug. “I can’t believe you.”

“It’s fine,” Kerri had spoken up, trying to lighten the mood. “Trace, please…it was just a mistake.”

It was wrong, but something about the fact that she was defending me made me feel good inside. It meant she still trusted me. She still loved me. Almost like…I could do no wrong. The fact that I hit her…it simply didn’t matter. That was all a mistake, a misunderstanding. I wasn’t a freak. I wasn’t a fag or a monster anymore. I was still Justin in her eyes. And I knew I always would be.

“That wasn’t a fucking mistake,” Trace grunted, shooting me the coldest look I’d ever seen. “That’s what he’s really like Kerri. I…I didn’t want to tell you okay? But…this is how he is. Something goes wrong, and it’s like…”

“Shut up Trace!” Kerri screamed the words at him, so loud that I thought her vocal cords were going to snap. All three of us had frozen then, and simply stared at her. Elisha seemed the most freaked out about it, but then…I expected that from her. She hadn’t been around for a lot of the gory details of me…or Kerri, besides that one night on the beach. She didn’t really known our fears, our needs. And really, it’s still none of her damn business in my book.

“Ker--” Trace began again.

“No,” she’d sobbed and made her way over to me. I’d still been paralyzed with fear, leaning up against the wall for support. But then she put her arms around me, and helped me to stand up a little straighter. “He’s not any of those things,” she’d informed him. “Nobody understands us. Nobody okay? You weren’t there…you weren’t locked up and tortured. So don’t tell me what he is.” Then she’d buried her head in my chest, and started to cry; hard, heavy; taking long, raspy breaths in between her sobbing.

I’d tried to do the best I could to comfort her, but the way Trace and Elisha were standing before me, staring me down like the monster I truly was…wasn’t helping the situation. And I couldn’t say anything. There were no words. I’d known what I did…and I knew what a bad, horrible thing it was. But it wasn’t like I could go back and change anything. So I just stared…it was the best option.

And then he’d simply turned his back on me.

Being the best friends that we are, we’d somehow managed to talk a little bit the next morning. I’d been in my basement ,in front of the Pac Man game in the corner, trying to come up with a way to apologize to Trace. Surprisingly, he’d come down after a while and offered to play the two player version with me. Of course, I’d obliged…nervous, but at the same time I knew he wasn’t going to slam me into the wall again. I was sure he’d come down to talk to me. The fear of what he’d told me about Shane had been nagging me of course…telling me that I couldn’t trust him. But I didn’t want to listen. Sure, I knew he’d fucked up. But then again, I’d fucked up with him so many times in my life that I figured it was time to grow up and give him a little leeway. Granted, the subject of Shane is a sensitive one, and no…no I’m not over the fact that he hired the son of a bitch. But I wasn’t going to remind him about it…degrade him about it then, or ever again. I’m done with that.

We played a few rounds, Trace beating me almost every time; and then we decided we’d had enough fun and games. It was time to get serious. So we’d sat down in the overstuffed bean bag chairs in the corner and started a conversation that right now…I wish like hell hadn’t taken place.

“Level with me,” he’d said immediately, handing me a bottle of coke. “Okay?”

I’d nodded. “Trace, look…I’m so--”

“Justin,” he’d interrupted. “Just hear me out first, then I‘ll hear what you have to say.”

Of course, I wanted to voice my opinion. I wanted to reassure him that I didn’t hate him. That I’d been out of my mind when he’d told me about Shane, and I hadn’t been able to think straight. But I figured, the only way I was going to get to say anything rational to him, was if I sat and waited my turn. So I’d simply nodded. “Okay.”

“The other day,” he’d began with a sigh. “I…you know, I don’t think you understand how hard it was for me to tell you about Shane.“ He’d swept a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. “I’d been keeping it from you for a long time, man. I mean, even before I knew about your cutting problem, I’d known what I did. And it killed me…to know that I might have been the cause of what happened. But I knew I couldn’t tell you,” he’d explained. “Because you’d just gotten home and you were still upset. And Kerri was gone too. So I just…I kept it all inside, and you know, I shouldn’t have. I know that now.”

He was my best friend, and to know that he‘d basically been experiencing the same withdrawn feelings as I had for all that time, made me feel even more guilty about the horrible things I‘d said to him. I hated that he‘d gone through so much turmoil without my knowledge. Granted, I knew if he’d told me about Shane before that night on the beach, I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it at all. Not that I handled it all that well anyway, but I knew I’d handled it better than I might have in the past. “Trace…”

“Wait,” he’d persisted.

I’d sat back again.

“I know you’re still handling this in your own way,” he told me, looking me straight in the eye. “Even if you say you’re sorry…and even if you try and act like it doesn’t bother you, I know you Justin. I know that deep down, you blame me for Shane…for all of this. And I understand that, and I accept it. But, you know…I’ve talked it over with people. I went to Elisha’s and we talked things out, and then I talked to Madison some more about it over the phone.” He’d folded his hands together and pressed his index fingers to his lips. “And it’s not my fault Justin,” he’d nodded. “No matter what you and Kerri tell me, and no matter how cold you act towards me…in here--” He’d pointed to his chest. “I know that I couldn’t have stopped this from happening.”

Then he was silent. He sat back in the bean bag, and continued to stare at me. Really, giving me the space I needed to talk. But I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless. Speechless because he was so damn right, and I…I felt like this horrible person for trying to put the idea in his head that any of it was his fault. I felt low, like a psycho and I wanted to run and hide from him. But then I remembered that it was Trace sitting in front of me. And I knew I had to try…I had to make an effort to explain myself, and apologize. “Trace,” I’d managed to whisper. “…I mean, man…you know how sorry I am. You have to know. You’ve been through the bulk of this with me; and now that the truth is out and I’ve been able to think it through a little, I know we’re going to be fine.” I’d waited for him to respond, to tell me that I was right. To tell me that we were best friends and that was all we needed to get through this horrible time. But when he simply stared at me, and didn’t so much as smile--I’d known something wasn’t right. “Trace. You gotta tell me what to do,” I‘d pleaded with him. “I don’t know what to do to make things right again.”

He‘d sat up a little, and sighed. “I think--we need some time apart.”

“Apart?” I’d nearly had a heart attack at the thought of not having Trace around to protect me anymore. Before Kerri came out here, before I went to the clinic, I’d wake up screaming most nights. Cam wouldn’t be able to calm me down either, and then…Trace would wake up; groggy but worried. And he would sit downstairs on the couch with me, and just listen. No, I hadn’t been able to tell him about the horrors of the rape or anything. But I was able to express how afraid I was, and that was reason enough for him to stay up with me all those nights. I couldn’t imagine life without him…

And I still can’t.

“It’ll only be for a month or two,” he’d explained, calmly . “I’ll come out for the VMA’s with you and Kerri, and then I’m going to come back here while you start the tour.”

“What…” I’d gasped. “Wait…why…” I’d felt my composure begin to crumble, and I tried, but I couldn’t hold back the few tears that escaped from my eyes. It was a scary thing, knowing that he wasn’t going to be there every single day like he’d been all along. If I needed him…if I had nobody else to turn to…I wouldn’t have a clue what to do. I knew Kerri and I were close, but…some things…some things are just Trace things. And Trace things need to be discussed with Trace. I knew him not being there would mess up the sync of my normal routine, too. And as Madison has always told me, routine is the most important step on the road to recovery.

“I need to sort out some things in my life, Justin,” he’d said. “Elisha is willing to take me back, now that I’ve confessed everything to her…and hell, I definitely want to try things with her again. I love her, and she deserves all the time and attention in the world from me. I need you to be strong and understand that.”

“But…” My voice had cracked and I’d covered my mouth to hold back my pathetic sobbing. I felt even more like the faggot that I am…being so weak and clingy. Like I needed him…I needed a man to be whole. It made me sick to my stomach, and I’d felt the puke rising out of my stomach and making its way up my esophagus. “I can‘t do this without you. They‘re all going to…look at me…and they’ll want touch me, Trace,” I’d choked out. “You know that! You’re supposed to be there. You’re supposed to help me!”

“Shh.” He’d smiled reassuringly and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. Kerri is going to be with you the whole time, and I’m gonna call you…and you know, you can call me whenever…”

“No!” I’d said, finally breaking down. “You don’t…you don’t understand okay?” I’d wiped the snot off of my face with my sleeve. “I need you--”

“But I do understand,” he’d said, before I could get another word out. “I know you…depend on me for certain things Justin, and I don’t expect you to understand what I’ve been struggling with all this time…what I’ve been through. But I’ve been through shit, okay? And I’m fucked up…really fucked up because of it all. Madison referred me to a really good shrink, and I’ve agreed to start going to weekly sessions and stuff so I can clear my head. I’m gonna be fine, and…I don’t hate you or anything like that. I don’t want you to worry about it--I just want you go out on that tour, and perform, and be the confident, strong guy that you’ve always been. I know you can do it, Justin.”

I don’t really remember that many details of the conversation that followed. He’d just been rambling to me…his words a jumbled mess of high and low pitched sounds, that made no sense in my mind. All I could think was, I was being abandoned by my truest friend. All I could feel was terrified. And all I knew was…that I was going to go insane because of it all.

I was terrified then. And even though I haven’t told him…even though I’ve forced smiles for him and tried to be strong, the truth is, I’m fucking scared shitless now. He’s always been my lifeline, my confidant. The one person I could go to when everybody else seemed to resent me…even before the kidnapping. He’s listened to me…laughed with me, cried with me. He’s been there through it all; and now it’s like none of it even matters. He’s just moving on, he’s living his own life. And yeah, I know I’m selfish for being upset about that. Anybody would tell me that Trace deserves to do this for himself after everything I’ve put him through. But I’m still just…so fucking weak, despite what everybody thinks…

And I know in my heart that I’m going to be nothing without him.

“You packed your medication, Justin?” Trace zips his suitcase, and sighs.

I snap to attention, surprised that he’s decided to make any kind of conversation with me right now. “Kerri has it,” I whisper, clutching my journal and rising off of the sofa.

He nods. “And you’re sure you’re ready to go through with this…the awards and the concert?”

I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m ready for. After all of this shit…what happened between Trace and I, and how I hit Kerri…I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore. I’m going to need to be professional, composed, mature. Now, I know I can handle the mature part. This whole thing has knocked a few more years into me, and these days I’ve been feeling more and more like a middle aged adult, instead of the twenty three year old I truly am. I guess it’s the stress and fatigue…yeah. The stress from my personal life, and the fatigue from rehearsals, working out, and having conference calls with my management and record label. After the other day, I really don’t know how I‘m still standing. How I‘ve managed to pack my bags and get ready to go back and face the world. What happens if I snap? If somebody looks at me the wrong way or God…touches me, and I just lose it?

What the fuck happens then?

“I guess,” I manage to say. “But I’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable facing all of this, if I knew you were going to stick around, instead of going back--”

He cuts me off. “Don’t start this again.” He shakes his head. “Justin, we’ve had this conversation and you know what my final decision is. I need my life back just as much as you need yours back, you know?” He picks up his suit case and carries it over to the door, seemingly finished discussing the topic…and my feelings about it. “Justin.“ He looks back over his shoulder when I don‘t follow him, and throws me an impatient look. “Come on man, Tiny’s waitin’.”

Reluctantly, I pick up the suitcase that’s been resting beside me and force myself to follow Trace out of his bedroom and down the stairs. When we reach the bottom I spot Kerri and Elisha waiting by the front door. They’re talking, even laughing. I’m a little surprised. I mean, I thought they had some kind of grudge against each other. But I guess all of this has probably brought them a little closer…and I know Kerri needs somebody else to talk to besides Trace and I. She needs a girlfriend she can talk about things with. I know she used to have Siobhan, but from what Kerri has told me…they haven’t talked in awhile. It just one more thing that I’ve managed to fuck up in her life, and while I feel horrible about it…I know there’s nothing I can do to fix it. Nope, I can’t fix it…just like I can’t fix anything else I’ve done to her…or to Trace. I just have to live with it…all of it.

Until it the day I die.

“Hey.” Kerri finally notices us after a moment, and gives Trace a hug, before she embraces me tightly and pecks me on the cheek. I feel my face grown hot, embarrassed that she’s shown this much affection for me in front of Trace and Elisha. But then she smiles at me. It’s a warm, reassuring smile, and I forget about them…their impatient glances and gestures. The only person I see is her. My Kerri. My wonderful loving Kerri who will never leave me no matter what I say or what I do to fuck things up.

I love her.

“You ready to go?” She takes my free hand in hers, and laces her fingers through mine. “Or do you want to run away with me instead?,” she smiles.

I wish I could choose the second option, but judging by the impatient look on Trace’s face, I know that I’m obligated to walk out my front door right now. But, I really wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could drop my bag and drag Kerri upstairs. We would lay in my bed, cuddle…and I would just talk to her, and stare into her awesome blue eyes until I fell asleep. Then we would wake up…and we would make dinner…

“You kids comin?” Tiny sticks his head in the doorway and throws me an annoyed glance. “We ain’t got no time for puppy love you two.”

Elisha and Trace lock hands, and Trace leads her away…leaving Kerri and I standing in my house together. I stare at her, wanting to tell her about how scared I am…how I don’t want to go. How I don’t know how I’m going to face the media and my fans all over again. I want to crawl inside of her, let her embrace me…hide me from the world.

“You‘re okay,” she whispers as she hugs me again, so nobody can hear her but me. And I realize I don’t have to say a damn thing. She can read my mind, like she’s always been able to. She knows my doubts, my fears, my worries…and she cares. She really does.

“Let them all walk away from you Justin. Let Trace do what he has to do,” she says and strokes the back of my neck soothingly. “You’re stronger now…and I know you can do this.”

I wrap my arms tighter around her tiny body, and bury my face in her shoulder. “What if they touch me,” I can’t help but blurt out. “I don’t want them to touch me, Kerri.”

“I’m going to be right there with you,” she whispers. “I won’t let anybody do anything to you.”

I whimper a little. I feel stupid and pathetic for doing it too. But my emotions are so out of sync right now, I just can’t help myself. And the fact that Kerri is holding me like she is, comforting me…it makes me feel like it’s okay to break down. That it’s okay to cry a little bit. “I love you,” I whisper. It still scares the hell out of me…love. But strangely, it doesn’t scare me quite as much when it comes to Kerri. “I do.”

She pulls back from me, a sort of magic lighting up her amazing blue eyes. It’s been years since I’ve seen that look in her eyes, and I feel like I’ve just flipped a switch, sending us both back in time. “I love you,” she tells me, with a smile. “I love you too, Justin.”

We grab the rest of our luggage and walk out the door hand in hand. Once in awhile, I’ll look over at her, to make sure she’s still there. To make sure that this isn’t some crazy dream that I’m having. And she is still there, smiling back at me just as before. I’m not sure what this is the start of. I mean, I told her I loved her…but what kind of love is it? It’s not friendly love. It can’t be, because we’ve been through entirely too much in our lives, and we’re beyond that whether we want to be or not. But then if it’s not friendly love…it’s gotta be real love. True love. And…and I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel this way about her, or anybody else right now. Of course, Kerri and I have been through this…discussed this, and agreed that we’re not ready. But I mean, I know part of that agreement stems from us being terrified of each other. I’m so confused, and as time goes by and the tour starts I know things are only going to get more difficult for all of us.

As we get into the sleek limousine, Trace’s cell phone starts to ring, marking the beginning of our newest adventure of uncertainty. I grab Kerri’s hand and look at her, and she looks at me and smiles…

And despite everything, despite all the pain and fear and heartache; I know that somehow, someway…some day…we’ll make it through the darkness.

It was the first time in years that I’d had to deal with it…screaming, yelling, flashes in my face. I knew how he felt, truly…probably for the first time ever. Sure, I’d been with him to the award shows before; but those times couldn’t compare to the feelings and emotions that were swimming around me tonight. No, not at all…because back then we’d both been so carefree…so naïve to the dangers of the world. So oblivious to the fact that in the blink of an eye, your life could turn into a nightmare.

The red carpet wouldn’t have been so bad, if it hadn’t been for that one reporter at the end of the stretch that simply didn’t care about the rules. In fact, things had been running very smoothly before that. Actually, more than smooth…eerily smooth. The moment we pulled up to Radio City, it was like everything that had happened over the past few months was simply a distant memory. Tiny got out of the car, taking a few moments to survey our surroundings before he gave us the go ahead to follow him onto the red carpet. I had seen the fear and panic creep over Justin almost immediately. Seeing that crowd, all those people waiting for him to get out of that car, scared the crap out of him. His hand had latched onto my arm right away, clinging onto it for dear life.

“You ready?” I’d asked him, glancing over at Trace for the support I knew I needed just then. But of course Trace, stubborn and miserable since we’d gotten into the car, paid me no mind. He looked out the window, seeming not to care how nervous his best friend was…

And I couldn’t believe him.

“You won’t let them touch me,” Justin had whispered, his expression a confused, frightened one . “Right, Kerri?”

“No,” I’d reassured him, with a warm smile. I’d kissed him lightly, and ran my hand down his cheek. “Nobody gets to touch you but me,” I’d giggled.

But his playfulness hadn’t returned, and I guess I shouldn’t have expected it to. “There’s a lot of people,” he’d reminded me, peering out the open doorway. “A lot. What if I get lost in the crowd…or what if they…”

“Damn it,” Trace had spoken up, much to my surprise. He’d shifted a little, and repositioned his arm around Elisha. “Haven’t you been through enough therapy and sh'it to know that the world isn’t out to get you, Justin? Calm down okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

The mature, reserved part of me held back from screaming at Trace just then. Deep down, I knew his outburst was only caused due to the stress and anxiety he was feeling inside. He was terrified of what was going to happen to his friend once he had to face the public eye, and because of this…he was acting like an a'sshole. Of course, the argument we’d had just a few minutes before hand wasn’t helping him to calm down at all. He was too stressed out to be there, and really he shouldn’t have been forced to join us. But Justin wanted him there, and nobody, not even Trace…was going to deny him anything tonight. That didn’t’ mean I thought Trace had a right to act that way, of course. I started to think he was getting sick of helping Justin with his problems, that he was sick of dealing with it. And that wasn’t the Trace I’d known my whole life. I had to admit it…this whole thing had changed him more than I thought, and of course I felt party responsible…being involved. I guess it’s why I decided to pull Justin out of the car then. I knew if I didn’t, another argument would have been started, and there was no way Justin would have been able to focus on what he needed to.

The screams ripped through my eardrums before Justin was more than halfway out of the car. Flashes went off, hands shot out from the pit…longing for just a touch of his hand. I’d looked at him, and of course I knew he was nervous, but he played it off well. He’d smiled, waved a little bit, and taken my hand in his as we followed Tiny toward the paparazzi line. Holding his hand was a little weird. It showed people that we weren’t just friends, that we were dating…a couple, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. But I knew Justin didn’t’ care what people thought about us, and so…I didn‘t protest. If this experience has taught us anything, it’s that we should cherish everything we have in our lives; be it friendships, or relationships. And the relationship Justin and I have now, is something we’d never thought we’d be able to have. In that moment, I was thankful…thankful for everything we’d gained due to our tragedy. It allowed me to forget about Trace and his sh'itty attitude for the moment, and I was able to start enjoying myself.

We hadn’t been on the carpet for more than two minutes before the first reporter stopped us. Her name was Caroline and she was from E!. I didn’t really know if I could trust her, and the expression on Justin’s face was telling me he definitely didn’t. But, I figured the night had to start off somewhere, and I knew it was a lot safer to start off with one of the more prominent entertainment news stations, rather than a crappy tabloid magazine. So, I’d patted Justin’s shoulder and reassured him everything was going to be fine, before having Caroline sign the release that Justin and I had conjured up the previous day.

Thankfully, the questions she asked were normal, laid back, and problem free. She asked if he was glad to be back, who he was looking forward to seeing performance wise, and who he hoped was going to win big. The most important thing, was that she was courteous, and respectful of the release and Justin’s privacy. She made it fun, she made Justin remember what the award show experience was all about, and I think he got to melt back into his normal mode then. It was just what he needed to kick off the evening, and I’d never been more thankful. I figured that maybe, people did care, and they wanted him to get better just as badly as his friends and family did.

I didn’t think I had anything to worry about.

We made our way down the rest of the line, without any major catastrophes. A lot of the reporters knew who I was, but most were reluctant to bring me into the conversation. Maybe it was the fear of tampering with the release that made them ignore me, but in my opinion…I think they wanted to keep their stories and minds focused on Justin and only Justin. Bringing me into it would have deterred his mind from their questions, it would have opened up an entirely new subject, and I understood that. Not that I would have wanted to be interviewed anyway…I’m not used to that sort of thing, and I didn’t want the attention to be distracted from Justin on his special night. So, I basically loomed in the background, and supervised the interviews as Tiny and Lynn had instructed me to. Once or twice, Justin would take it upon himself to bring me into the conversation . When Mtv was interviewing him, Justin told them I was one of his biggest supporters. I was a little bashful, and I’d been reluctant to show my face on camera until Justin coaxed me forward. I did it for him, even though I really didn’t want to. I knew who was watching tonight…people I know from school, possibly my parents. I don’t know…I guess it was cool sitting next to Justin in front of the entire nation, but I’ve never really loved being the center of attention. Even now…after everything, I’d much rather shut myself away in a room before talking about how I feel with anybody.

I didn’t expect Justin to tell people that I was his girlfriend, and I’m glad that he didn’t. It’s too early for us to be viewed as a couple by the media and the fans. Personally, I don’t want anybody to know…because I’m afraid that they’ll try to tear us apart. People get jealous easily, and God, I hate it. Justin’s fans…some of them think that he has to live for them. He has to be single, available…so they can dream about getting married to him or some stupid sh'it. It’s not fair. Justin’s a normal guy--or at least he’s trying to be…and he has every right to have a girlfriend and be happy. A girlfriend like me. Somebody who knows him, really knows him…the person inside. And maybe it’s selfish for me to think this way, but really…I don’t think any other girl could be as good to Justin as I am. Nobody else is as deep with him…nobody else understands him…the person he was, the person he is now…and they’ll never be able to.

I’m the only one for him. That’s right, for once in my damn life it’s all about me.

Unfortunately, our care free evening came to a crashing halt just before we entered the music hall. There was a stray reporter positioned right by the doorway, from some hoopla publication that didn’t have a chance in hell of getting a big name to stop. I knew it was risky, and I tried to avoid him at all costs…but I was stopped suddenly and quickly by Justin. I guess he felt for the guy, he wanted to give him a chance or something. I protested of course, telling him that we really needed to get inside. But he only tugged at my hand and smiled at me

“Just one more,” he persisted. “Come on, Kerri. Talking to small papers is good for my media image, and…I need kiss ass tonight,” he’d laughed, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “Everything is fine, I’m sure he’s harmless.”

I was weary. I didn’t’ trust it…and I warned Justin about what could happen; but I hadn‘t been able to change his mind. He‘d been so sure, wanted to make his own decision, and it wouldn’t‘ have been right for me to deny him that. With a sigh, I gave in, and explained what the deal was to the reporter. Everything seemed fine…he signed the release, he seemed to agree with everything I was telling him.

But in the blink of an eye, everything took a turn for the worse.

“How are you coping with your abduction?”

I stood behind Justin, dumbfounded that the question had been asked. It was the first time that night that any sort of discomforting feeling had been brought about, and I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do. I couldn’t say anything, because I knew anything I could say would make things worse. Really, I wanted to punch the ba'stard for doing it…for crossing the line and catching Justin off guard when he was so vulnerable. I could almost see myself strangling him, wrapping my hands around his neck and squeezing until his face turned blue and his eyes rolled backwards, revealing the whites of them. But of course, none of that happened. I could only stand there like the weak idiot that I am, and let Justin take it all in.

“I um…” Justin had whimpered, and scratched at the side of his mouth nervously. “I’m not really in the mood for that discussion tonight.”

“It’s what the public needs to hear,” the reporter reminded him, a smug smile on his round little face. “And how can you ever begin to cope with what’s happened if you don’t start talking about it?”

And then I thought Justin was going to throw the piece of sh'it into the wall. “Don’t you dare tell me how to cope with my problems,” he’d sneered, stepping dangerously close to the man. “Don’t you dare.”

“Enough.” Eric had stepped in-between the reporter and Justin before things could get worse, and gently pushed him back over to me. “Enough, Justin.”

I’d grabbed onto my boyfriends hand eagerly, wanting to stop him from saying anything else. The last thing he needed was something negative being printed about him due to his paranoid feelings about the evening. “Don’t worry about him,” I’d whispered, pulling him through the doorway while Eric stayed behind; conversing quietly with the ba'stard reporter. “He’s just thirsty for gossip and…”

“He’ll be hearing from my attorney,” Justin had interrupted me angrily. “And you can fu'cking count on that.”

I didn’t take Justin seriously. I mean, he‘d been asked a lot of questions, bad questions, by a lot of reporters in his life time. I figured he was simply annoyed that things had gotten out of hand, because of a decision he‘d made. So, rather than making a big deal about it, I decided to change the subject. “Why don’t we go try to find where Trace ran off to,” I provided, even though I wanted to stay as far away from Trace as I could. But, I figured that Trace would be able to put Justin’s mind at ease about the situation. I couldn’t’ deny that despite everything, making Justin feel good about himself was still one of Trace’s strong points…when he was acting like himself anyway.

“Man little bro…better late than never huh?”

Hearing the voice seemed to break Justin out of his angry, confused state of mind; and even though I had no idea where the voice had come from, I was still thankful for it. When we finally turned around, I immediately recognized Pharrell Williams, that other Chinese dude from the Neptunes, and a few other faces from various rap videos. All seemed a little stoned, but really happy to see Justin nonetheless.

“Fashionably late.” Justin’s fake professionalism flew on at the sight of his friends, and it was bad…but it put me at ease a little bit. I knew if Justin was still able to act like he was okay in front of people that had no idea what he’d been through, it meant that he hadn’t totally lost his mind.

Justin had slapped hands with Pharrell and the rest of his posse, seeming to melt into the moment quite easily. I on the other hand, stood a little bit behind him and observed, just as before. I didn’t dare introduce myself, for the fear that I simply wouldn’t fit in. I guess part of me was expecting Justin to introduce me anyway, and I guess its why I was a little hurt when it took fifteen minutes for anybody to realize I was even standing there.

And Justin wasn’t even the one who realized it.

“Who’s this?” Pharrell smiled, and stepped a little bit past Justin. “Man, you don’t just leave your girl hangin’,” he laughed and took my hand. “I’d tell you to excuse Justin,” he’d chuckled. “But he’s still a youngin, and I’m sure you’re used to this sorta thing by now.”

I’d cleared my throat and chuckled nervously. I felt like yanking away from the gorgeous light skinned African man that stood before me, but I didn’t want him to think I was rude. Although I’d never really gotten into the whole hip hop craze, I knew that Pharrell had a lot of influence, and was also a big part of the reason that Justin’s solo venture had been such a success. I wanted to be the perfect little girlfriend who could do no wrong, even though I knew how far I was from that person. “It’s okay,” I’d managed, before lightly tugging away from him. “It’s a big night.”

Justin’s arms had immediately gone to my waist, and he’d pulled me close to him. Part of me was sure it was all for show, but I shrugged the feeling away, convincing myself that Justin loved me, and he didn’t care who knew. He’d started to pay attention to me again too, and that in itself made me melt into the moment.

“Rell, this is Kerri,” he’d finally informed his friend.

And then Pharell’s eyes had widened, as if some amazing realization had just dawned on him. “Oh sh'it,” he’d said quietly. “For real?”

I’d looked up at Justin, worried about what was going to happen next. Would Pharrell question me? Would he want to know…everything? I’d felt nauseated, I’d needed a bathroom to vomit in, but I was too weak, and too worried about what running away from the situation would do to Justin. After all, it was his night…

My feelings were definitely supposed to be on the backburner.

“She’s my blanket,” Justin chided, referring to one of the many stupid phrases he’d learned during his sessions with Madison. “You know, she keeps me warm and safe when I’m insecure,” he’d shrugged a little and smiled at me.

Justin was treating me like his girlfriend, in front of people I’d never met in person before, and I didn’t know how to react. If it had been JC or any of the other guys, it wouldn’t’ have mattered. But…I didn’t know Pharrell or his friends, and I didn’t know what opinions they were going to form about me. I was sure Pharrell knew me as ‘that girl who got kidnapped’, but that was probably the most he knew. He couldn’t have known about Justin and I…the bond we’d shared our entire lives. He couldn’t have known how much we’d meant to each other at one time, and how much pain we’d had to endure in order to restore some kind of friendship between us again.

Or so I thought.

“Couldn’t get this guy to shut up about you last summer,” Pharrell beamed, seemingly happy that Justin and I were cuddling before him. “You inspired a bunch of songs,” he’d laughed. “Though, we had to cut most of them to make room for the heavy hitters.”

Naturally, I’d been under the assumption that Justin pushed me out of his mind for good all those years ago. Though, Elisha’s story had told me that he’d still talked about me with Trace, it hadn’t been enough to make me think that he’d actually reminisced about me with other people. It made me start to see things in a whole new light. Perhaps Justin was always in love with me, yet we’d both been too immature and stubborn to try and turn things back around. Three years he carried that in his heart, and I guess I carried it in mine too. It took a nightmare to snap us out of it, and call me crazy but at that point I was almost thankful we’d been taken…

If only things could have been less emotional, less of a nightmare.

Justin didn’t said anything. I think the situation was too awkward for him, having his feelings dumped out in the open like that by his friends. Of course he didn’t have to say anything, I knew how he felt about me already; he’d told me enough times over the past few days. And so, I probably shouldn’t have felt as confused and annoyed as I did when he pulled away from me and changed the subject to Pharrell’s latest collaboration. I guess it was just the paranoid part of me kicking in. The part of me that constantly tugs at my soul, warning me, telling me that he doesn’t care as much as I think he does. I started to ask myself the normal questions: Didn’t he want his friends to know that he was glad to have me back? Or was it like I’d thought…was he acting like he cared to prove something to the world? It was a horrible way to be thinking, and I knew that; but I’m easily confused, especially nowadays. I needed to think, I realized. And while I stood in the background as Justin and his friends chatted about things I had no part in, I tried to sort out my thoughts and feelings…

But as I stood there, and watched with wide eyes as more and more people flooded into the room, I started to feel uneasy. There were so many faces…some famous, some not. It didn’t matter to me anyway. They were all doing the same thing; making the room stuffy, small, and closed in. Of course I felt smothered, like I had in that closet when I was younger, like I had…in that shed. I closed my eyes and tried to will the feeling away, but I couldn’t make it go away. I’ve never been able to make that feeling totally go away. And it didn’t help that every time I forced myself to open my eyes, the crowd seemed to get bigger, and bigger. The bigger it became, the more short of breath I became…the more nauseated I started to feel.

When I finally managed to look to my boyfriend for guidance, he seemed to be off in another world. As we’d been standing there, his circle of friends and supporters had doubled, maybe even tripled. Everybody was talking to him, everybody wanted a piece of him, and Justin well…he was eating it up; smiling and laughing as if nothing had ever happened to him. I should have been happy about that, I tried to be happy about that, really I did. But my throat was closing, I couldn’t breath…I was choking. It was the same as the darkness…being gagged and bound. The vision of myself lying in the darkness without an ounce of hope left, flashed before my eyes. I practically screamed, but bit my tongue in defense…

And I knew I had to get out.

Eric was standing behind us, so rather than interrupting Justin’s conversation with a man I’m almost certain was P. Diddy; I simply muttered ‘bathroom’ to Eric, before breaking through the large crowd of onlookers. I was certain he probably hadn’t heard me. Like everybody else, he was too focused on Justin’s well being to care what I was doing. But it hadn’t’ mattered then. What mattered was the bathroom. What mattered was being able to breath again. What mattered was not having a mental breakdown right before the Video Music Awards.

The bathroom was spacious, tranquil, quiet; a haven compared to the overcrowded foyer. I’d splashed some water on my face quickly, and took a long, slow breath in and out. When I finally managed to look at my reflection in the mirror, I cursed myself. I hadn’t realized I’d started crying, and because I had…my makeup was smeared and my mascara was running down my cheeks. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fix it the way Elisha had before we left the hotel, and I wanted to kick myself. It was hard enough trying to blend in with the glamorous women in the foyer, and as I stared back at myself I once again began to wonder why Justin was wasting his time with me. I thought that maybe, it was the reason he was so easily distracted from me. Why he seemed to forget I was there when his friends came up to him, until they pointed me out. Maybe it was an act…maybe he really didn’t care. I’d gotten choked up at my realization, and probably would have started to cry all over again if it hadn’t been for the sound of feminine laughter echoing into the bathroom. Fearing the worst…that they would know who I was, I quickly ran into a stall and locked myself in before the girls could notice me standing at the sink.

“He looks so good, Brit,” her friend had laughed. “Really, you should have invited him out.”

I’d wrapped my arms around my knees then, and cringed inside. I knew damn well who was standing out there, and as much as I wanted to tell her to stay the hell away from Justin, I knew there was no way I could do that. I would have made a fool out of myself, and I’m sure my encounter with his ex girlfriend would have gotten back to him in the worst way.

“I couldn’t,” I heard her sigh. “It’s been too long, and he’s gone through too much without me. God,” she’d chuckled. “I’m surprised he talked to me at all.”

“People are entitled to make mistakes,” her friend said. “You and Justin simply…had a falling out. But really, he seemed glad to see you. Did you see the way he smiled? And lord, he hugged you for a hell of a long time.”

Britney giggled. “I guess we’re still close. But I think it would be weird to hang out with him right now, Darla. I don’t know what he was put through, and I would feel weird asking him about it.”

“Who says you have to bring that stuff up? I mean, he’s probably got enough people breathing down his neck about it as it is. You know, you’d probably be the perfect person for him to hang around with…you could help him to relax about the whole thing,” her friend pointed out.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from screaming at them. They had no right to stand around and talk about Justin and what was right for him. None. Britney had hurt him in the worst way, and in my opinion she didn’t deserve the time of day from Justin. I could have kicked myself from walking away from him…what if Justin saw something in her that he couldn’t see in me? What if I went back out there and he acted differently toward me, or told me he was having second thoughts about his feelings for me? I knew I had to come out of hiding, huge crowd or not, and salvage my relationship before somebody snatched it out from under me.

“He came with Kerri,” I heard Darla say, with a bitter laugh. “I can’t believe that girl is still around.”

Then it was silent. I had no idea what Britney was going to say about me, and even though it was a little wrong for me to be eavesdropping on their entire conversation, part of me felt good about it. That I could sort of get back at Britney for being such a bi'tch to me all those years ago. “You know she was kidnapped too,” she’d said softly. “She saw what went on.”

“Yeah,” Darla cackled. “And now she follows him around like a little dog. You’re so much better than that little girl, Britney. Really, I think you should make some kind of effort here. It’s obvious he still feels something for you.”

“I think they’re together. And I know how he is…he needs her. I’m not going to be the one to deny them that. They’ve always shared something more, you know? Something I never seemed to understand,” was Britney’s response .

It shocked me that she was showing any kind of respect for me and my relationship with Justin. She’d always been so against us in the past, so jealous. But I guess, her own falling out with Justin must have changed her . It must have made her more mature, made her realize that you can’t screw people over and expect them to understand and forgive you. As strange as it was, I found myself not hating her as much as I had in the past. I think I might have even been able to talk to her then, if it hadn’t been for her friend. I didn’t want to deal with anybody I didn’t know…so I continued to sit in the stall until they decided to leave. Only then, certain I‘d been left alone, did I reemerged from my private sanctuary; doing the best I could to fix my face and hair before I headed out to face the world again.

The crowd had seemed to thin slightly, most of the people having gone to their designated seats inside the theater, and I was thankful. I wasn’t as panicked or smothered, I could breathe, and I was able to find Justin quickly. This time, I found him surrounded by several familiar faces: Trace, Elisha, Tiny and Eric. I’d let out a relieved sigh, realizing that I could melt into my normal personality for the moment, and I smiled a little as I made my way over to them.

“Hey.” I’d tapped Justin on the shoulder, and giggled a little.

“I told you she was fine,” Trace spoke up quickly, as I felt Justin jump at my touch. “Christ Justin.”

Justin whirled around quickly, a pale, frightened expression on his face. “God damn it,” he muttered, grabbing onto my arm forcefully. “Where the fu'ck did you go Kerri? What the hell were you thinking?”

I stood, frozen in my position, my fearful eyes locked on his angry ones. I wasn’t absolutely sure what I’d done, but I was pretty positive that he had no idea that I’d run off to the bathroom. “I had to pee,” I squeaked out.

“You didn’t bring Eric? You…you didn’t even tell me?” He’d shaken his head roughly and sucked in his bottom lip before whispering: “Something could have happened to you.”

I would have said something, like that I was sorry. Or, that I’d only run off because he’d been busy talking to his friends, but I hadn’t been able to get a single word out. He seemed so upset, so disappointed in me, and I felt like a big failure. It was supposed to be his night, and so far…I’d pissed Trace off and scared the sh'it out of Justin. I felt that I couldn’t do anything right, and in that moment, I almost wished that Britney had gotten her way. That Justin had simply been able to forget about me, Shane, the abduction…everything. He should have just been able to melt into the evening, back into the lifestyle he’d been living without me for three years. Suddenly, I felt how truly out of place I was there. I couldn’t relate, I didn’t know. He’d come so far since his little boy band…he had a solo thing going now, one that I didn’t know anything about. One that he’d worked so hard to make into the biggest thing of the year.

I was ruining the moment. I was ruining everything he’d worked so hard for. I should have ran off…but I was entirely too scared to leave his side. Going out there by myself, in New York City without him…I couldn’t have done it, even though I tried to make myself believe I could have. I think I’ve grown too dependant on Justin and Trace…I expect them to be around, to protect me, to make me feel safe. And no, I haven’t talked about this with Justin or anything…but I’m scared to death of what’s going to happen once Trace leaves and we get out on the road. I’m going to have to go places, do things on my own, in strange cities where I don’t know anybody. While I’m used to tour life, I haven’t been on the road with Justin in a long time. And well…back then I was a hell of a lot more stable.

“Justin, relax,” Trace’s calming tone had broke us both out of the awkward moment. “Kerri’s here, she’s safe…and everything is fine okay? Let’s just go sit down.”

“Don’t you ever go someplace without telling me,” Justin told me, not seeming to hear Trace’s words to him. He tightened his grasp on my wrist, not because he was angry, but because he was stressed and not paying attention . Needless to say, it started to hurt, but I tried as hard as I could not to let it show. “Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” I’d whispered. “I…didn’t think.”

“We’re gonna miss the opening,” Trace had intervened once again. “Come on, let‘s not miss anything. I heard Chris Rock‘s routine is supposed to be funny as hell.”

“Come on,” Tiny persisted, when Justin didn’t let go of my wrist. “Let’s go in.”

After a moment, Justin relaxed his grip on my wrist and I was able to pull away from him. I looked down at the ground, too upset about what I’d done to look him in they eye anymore . I felt like crying…for ruining the evening, and because I was still so nervous about being around so many people. I coughed a little, but bit my lip to keep any sort of whimper from escaping.

“I’m not mad at you,” I heard him say to me before gently lacing his fingers through mine.

But I still couldn’t look at him.

We’d settled into our seats without incident. I sat in-between Trace and Justin, Elisha on the other side of Trace. Eric had sat in the seat behind Justin, and Tiny sat on the aisle; creating a muscular wall of security around him. Just as the lights began to dim, I managed to look up at Justin again, and he smiled down at me. Part of me was relieved, but I still felt horrible about making him worry like I had. Before I could look down at my lap and continue to sulk though, he gave my hand a gentle rub and leaned down towards me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I’d whispered.

“I was worried,” he’d nodded. “But I wasn‘t angry, and it‘s over and done with now. Don’t worry, okay?”

I looked away from him. Although I knew he probably meant what he said, I still wasn’t convinced of anything . I was afraid the show would end, we would go to Hammerstein and he would scream at me…tell me he didn’t love me anymore. He would compare me to Britney, tell me how great she was and how he wished he realized how stupid and foolish I was from the beginning. “Okay,” was my response, but it didn’t sound very positive.

“You’re not even looking at me,” he’d whispered. “Kerri, you gotta understand that I’m not all there. If you disappear without telling me where you‘re going, I’m going to assume something’s wrong. Come on, how naïve are you?”

I’d looked at him, my eyes glossed over, my face red and burning with the struggle of holding back my tears. “I just…”

“Just forget it,” he grumbled. “I can’t do this with you right now.” He yanked his hand out of mine and crossed his arms stubbornly. “There’s about a million things on my mind.”

“Justin…”

“Just talk to me later,” he said, giving me a wave of his hand.

The show went on of course, and even though he usually annoys the hell out of me, I was thankful for Chris Rock’s little presentation. It made both Justin and Trace lighten up, laugh heartily, and comment back and forth to each other about the various jokes he made. They were getting to act like friends for once that night, and it put my mind at ease a little…but not totally. Justin hardly looked my way for the first half hour of the show. Not even when Britney and Madonna made out on stage. I’d looked at him of course, not having any idea how he was reacting to such a stupid performance. To my surprise, his expression was blank…he seemed bored with the whole thing really. But his mood was probably due to the fact that the camera man was stationed right by our row, ready to catch any sort of weird comment or face he might have made due to the whole thing. Stupid. It was the stupidest thing I’d ever seen.

“That was classic,” Trace had said to me during a commercial break. “She does this sh'it for attention.”

I’d looked at my best friend, half terrified that he was going to degrade me next. “I guess the night wasn’t awkward enough,” I’d whispered, cracking a half smile.

But he didn’t get angry, and he didn’t’ lash out at me like I thought he would. He’d only laughed and patted me on the shoulder a little. “VMA night is never awkward enough, Ker,” he smiled, before putting an arm around Elisha. They started to converse quietly, and I didn’t care enough about their conversation to try and eavesdrop. I was only thankful that he’d lightened up about our little argument outside of the hotel…even though I was sure that our troubles were far from over.

Justin performed, and I really wanted to be backstage with him before he went on, just to reassure him that he was going to be great…but I wasn’t allowed to go backstage with Trace and Elisha. Tiny told me I was to stay in my seat with Eric, and ‘not get into any trouble’. I couldn’t believe it…I wasn’t a child, but Justin didn’t protest. I thought that maybe it had something to do with him being mad at me, but then again…I knew it would take a lot more than an argument for Justin to leave me at my seat like that. I’d looked up to him for an answer before Tiny escorted him away too, but he’d only sighed and said: “It’ll be safer if you stay here with Eric.”

Safer.

I began to wonder what was going to happen once the tour started. How would I be safe then…running around, doing errands for him? It didn’t make sense. It was fu'cking ridiculous. “What are you talking about?,” I’d whispered. “Justin…”

“Kerri.” He’d shot me a worried gaze. “Please, okay?”

I hadn’t responded. I was officially fed up with the evening, even if it was supposed to be Justin’s evening. Even if everything was supposed to go his way. I was being treated like a little girl, like he had total control over me, and my emotions. Christ, could I even breathe without his permission?

Trace lingered behind, as Tiny escorted Justin away. I didn’t feel like dealing with anybody then….I was infuriated. But of course, Trace made me listen, like he always does. “Don’t sit here and brood,” he warned me, referring to the camera man that was doing laps up and down our aisle. “They know who you are, and if you’re all pissed off they’ll make everybody assume that Justin did something to you.”

“Let them,” I’d grunted, looking down at my lap. “I’m not in the mood to defend his ass right now, okay?”

“Look, I know,” he agreed. “I knew this night was going to be bad the minute you and I started fighting. And Ker…I never meant for things to get out of hand like they did. Come on, just calm down and once this is all over you and I will talk @#%$ out. Just…you know, hold your head up and be positive. I’ll talk to him about this…and he’ll realize. It’s just that you went to the bathroom and he didn’t know…”

“So now I need to check in with somebody every time I need to pee?” I’d crossed my arms stubbornly and glared at him. “Trace…god, I…I can’t do this!”

“Shh,” he’d warned, as my voice had been a bit too loud and the people in the aisle across from us were starting to notice. “We can’t do this here. Just know that I’m going to talk to him, and set it straight for you, okay?”

I didn’t understand Trace’s change of attitude toward me. He’d been so angry with me at the beginning of the night, and hell, I’d said a lot of bad sh'it to him. But in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. I guess it’s why he’s my best friend, I guess it’s why I know I can always depend on him if something goes wrong. As much as I say he‘s changed, that he‘s not the same guy I used to know…he‘s still my friend, and he‘ll always be. “You shouldn’t care. You should let me be miserable,” I’d muttered miserably.

He kissed my cheek. “But I do. And I don’t want you to be.”

I watched him go, feeling a little bit better about the way things were going to go between Trace and I, but still worried about what was going to happen when I saw Justin again. I knew all too well that with my stubbornness, and his short temper we could very well end up having a blow out. It was the last thing I wanted to happen of course, but I didn’t’ know how I would prevent it, unless Trace made Justin realize how stupid he was acting.

By the time the show was over, Justin had performed once and received two awards for his solo effort. I was proud of him, of course. During his first acceptance speech, he seemed slightly refreshed, as if winning awards was something he’d been missing. He thanked a lot of people, especially ‘the people that had been putting up with him lately’. I’d looked over at Trace then, and he’d winked and given me a little nudge. I knew that he’d been true to his words and talked to Justin, and I forced myself to believe that everything was going to be okay. That Justin wasn’t going to turn into an paranoid psycho, and try to control me. He’d just been nervous, and scared. I walked off, he didn’t know where I was, and it made his emotions get the best of him. Justin was going to calm down, and I was positive things would turn right back around again. We would be happy…in love, just like we’d been since the night we first made love.

“You have fifteen minutes, Justin,” she chuckles. “Use them well.”

“Thanks, Cindy.“ I hear the door close. “Kerri, there‘s a huge crowd,” he whimpers. “Right in front of the stage, you know? And like, it’s a club…so there‘s only a little gap between the stage and me. I mean, I‘m not saying I don’t want to go out there…but…I don‘t know if I can.”

I look up from the paperwork I‘ve been reviewing for Justin. He’s standing there, his back leaning against the door, his eyes closed, his face drained of color. He’s terrified of going out there…and of course I know why. “Justin, you just performed in front of forty million people,” I chuckle a little and look back to my reading. “I think you can do it for another two hundred. There’s about twenty security guys on staff tonight…nobody is going to rush the stage or anything.”

“You’re awfully calm,” he mutters.

I sigh, and push the papers away. “Well what do you want me to do? Panic? Cry? Tell you I don’t think you can go on? Justin, I’m supposed to be encouraging you….” I hesitate for a moment, but I have no idea why. “I want to encourage you.”

His eyes snap open, and he pushes himself away from the door. He crosses the room and leans over the table that I’m seated at. He drums his fingers on the tabletop for several moments, before allowing the horrible feeling he’s been keeping locked inside of him to spread across his face. I’ve seen that look many times before…that terrified look, and I don’t know what to do. It makes me cringe to see him this way. It reminds me of too much…and I hate that. “But what if something…”

“You‘ve been afraid something is going to go wrong since we got out of the limo since at Radio City,” I interrupt, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me right now. “God, I mean, I went to the bathroom and you nearly lost your mind. I thought you were getting better, Justin. I thought you were trying to move on.” Okay, so I’m probably one to talk about moving on, since I’ve barely even begun to make an attempt at it myself. But Justin, he’s been through all the motions. He went there, he talked about everything, and he got help. Madison certainly didn’t have a problem telling his people he was okay to go on the road…so I mean, what the hell? Why is he still so jumpy and nervous? I mean, okay that’s a stupid question. Of course I know he’ll never be totally ‘there’. But I know he’s a hell of a lot more sane than I am right now, and he’s not acting like it at all.

“I…” he starts, but pauses and sighs . He looks into my eyes, and I can see the frightened look on his face intensify. I should understand, and I do…but I guess I expected him to be a little stronger than this, that’s all. Suddenly I feel like a dope. Why should he be stronger? It’s not like its been all that long…just a couple of months. Why should he have to do a complete turn around in such a short amount of time? What makes him different than me? If anything, he was put through more sh'it than me…and he should still be a quivering, cowering mess. Maybe he still is, but since there is no other choice tonight but to be on top of his game…he has to keep all of his feelings inside. Well…except right now, when he’s alone with me. He’s venting, I realize. It’s the only time he has to vent tonight.

Then why the hell do I wish he would save it for tomorrow?

“Justin, look…it’s been a long night---”

“I didn’t mean to get all weird at the music hall,” he tells me quickly. He rises from his bent position, and begins to pace the room. It makes me nervous, but of course I don’t say anything to him about it; pacing calms Justin’s nerves, it always has, from the time we were small. “…it’s just that, one minute you were there at my side, and then I turned around and you were gone. I asked Eric where you were, and he didn’t have a fu'ckin' clue.” He chuckles sadly, and stops pacing so he can look me in the eye. “It scared the hell out of me Ker…I mean, for all I knew somebody could…”

“I know,” I interrupt him before he can fill my head with horrible visions and memories. “I know and I’m sorry,” I whisper, and get out of my chair so I can stand before him. “There were just a lot of people around and I started to get…you know, uncomfortable.” I shudder , the feeling of tight spaces and being short of breath coming back to me a little. “Like I couldn‘t breathe.”

An intense expression of concern spreads across his face, and his arms immediately go around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “Why didn’t’ you tell me?,” he whispers, running a few fingers lightly down my cheek. “I would have taken you somewhere so you could calm down.”

I shake my head roughly, and while I really don’t want to tell him the reason I did what I did…I can’t bring myself to lie to him, no matter how bad it will make him feel. “I didn’t’ want to take you away from your friends,” I whisper. “You were so happy, Justin . The happiest I’ve seen you…in a long time. Like, you were alive again…almost like before.” I bite my lip and tear my gaze from his. “I just figured I would be quick, and you wouldn’t even know I was gone.”

“But I did know.” His voice cracks with every word, and I can already see the tears forming in his eyes. “I knew, and god…I was scared okay?”

I hug him, because I don’t know what else to do. Saying I’m sorry will only make him dwell on what could have happened if something went wrong…if some kind of psycho was looming around. “You can’t just go on like this,” I whisper finally. “You can’t think that something is going to go wrong every day, every time you turn a corner or walk down a street. It’s not healthy Justin…it’s going to drive you out of your skull.” Saying this probably won’t put his mind at ease either, but I’m hoping it will knock some sense into him before he has to go on stage. He has to be focused, for his fans. The crowd at Radio City might have been prepared for a mental breakdown from Justin. They know how it is to be at your peak and come crashing down. But this crowd is packed with fans and random onlookers. They’re looking for Justin Timberlake the star, not Justin Timberlake the mess. And for him to mess up this performance, could cost him his comeback…as much as it kills me to admit that to myself.

“Kerri.” He pulls back from me slightly and shakes his head. “How can you expect me not to be scared,” he whispers. “You know how it is okay? You were there, and you saw what can happen if you’re not careful. God, I mean, if I’d just been more careful in the beginning…”

I force myself to kiss him then. I can’t stand to listen to him blame himself and sh'it. It’s ridiculous. We’ve started something here…we’ve started a relationship. We love each other, and right now…he’s not even thinking about that. He’s not thinking about how great it is to have somebody in his life that loves them with their whole heart, and refuses to judge him or think badly of him because of what happened. All he can think about is how scared he is…that something could happen to one of us at any given moment. And the only thing I can think to do is kiss him, because lately it’s seemed to make him feel better..

But when he jerks away from me a moment later, I know that my kisses aren’t going to cut it tonight.

“Stop,” he whines, “You think I’m in the mood for this now?”

I’m appalled. “I…”

“Do you even get it?” He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, shaking his head at me in disappointment.

I hold my arms out at my sides, completely fed up with the way things have been going. Completely fed up with how I fu'cked up, and how he‘s fu'cked up because of it. I just want everything to freeze frame, so I can step outside myself and reposition us…fix us. But that‘s unimaginable. “Get what!,” I yell. “Get what Justin? That you’re turning into a paranoid controlling ba'stard? Oh yeah, I get that really well.” I cross my arms, and turn around. I wont let him see me cry right now, and when I feel the tears start to dribble down my face I quickly wipe them away. [i]Strong Kerri[/i], I force myself to think. [i]Stay strong for him.[/i]

“Kerrigan.”

His hands are on my shoulders in a flash, rubbing them soothingly. I don’t turn around. I know I’m still crying and I know I can’t stop right now. “I’m fine.” I walk forward a little, but he doesn’t’ let go of me. A moment later I feel his hot breath in my ear, and his lips land lightly on my neck. I’m confused. He didn’t want me kissing him, but yet he’s kissing me now. I don’t dare ask questions. I’ll only end up confusing us more. “Look, Justin. I’m just…”

“I don’t want to lose you,“ he interrupts, his voice trembling. His hands slide from my shoulders down to my waist, and he tugs me close to his strong, muscular form, before gently turning me around to face him. “I lost you once.“ A few tears glide freely down his face, and he sniffles but doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “And tonight, when you disappeared like that, I thought I lost you again. I didn‘t know what to do you know? You were gone and there was nothing I could do, like when--” His voice trails off just then. I know what he’s hinting at and I’m glad that he can’t finish his sentence. He leans his head on my shoulder, and then that’s when the sobs come; long and hard. He can’t stop.

“I can’t lose you,” he manages to whimper. “I can’t lose you again.”

It’s okay that he’s crying. His fragile psyche can only take so much stress on a daily basis, and this is his way of relieving himself of that stress. I guess I knew that tonight was going to be overwhelming from the start, and that eventually it was going to take his toll on him. I was only hoping that it wouldn’t happen just before he had to go onstage. “Justin, I‘m not going anywhere,” I try and reassure him. It’s important that I’m supportive right now, and I know that. I wish I could go back in time…back to earlier in the evening. I’d make myself calm down, breathe…so I wouldn’t have to run off to the bathroom and scare the crap out of my boyfriend. God, if I hadn’t been stupid and done that, he’d probably be okay right now. I knew it. I knew I would ruin the night.

[i]Good job, Kerri[/i], Nathan grunts.

Yeah, great fu'cking job Kerri.

“I’m so sorry,” I hear myself say. Really, I need to stop, because I’m going to end up crying too. How is that being supportive? How is that going to help him through these precious minutes we have together before he has to go out there? It’s not…it’s really not. But I can’t help myself. I cry into him. “I love you,” I say pathetically. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Baby…shh.” His voice is soft, a little raspy, but I can tell he’s not crying anymore. He starts to rock me in his arms, and I feel him press his lips to my forehead a moment later. “It‘s okay,” he tells me. “We‘re okay. I love you too, Ker.”

And we hold each other. It’s the only thing that seems to be helping…just standing here, touching…kissing. I stop crying after awhile, and just lean into him. It feels good to be in his arms. I feel the stress and anxiety of the night leave me. I just want things to stay exactly the way they are right now. I want time to stop. I want…

There’s a knock at Justin’s door, and I hear it creak open slowly. “Hey.” Trace’s voice echo’s into the room, but I don’t want to look up at him. Looking up at him will bring me back to reality of what is. Justin will have to stop holding me…and I’ll have to remember everything all over again. So, I bury my face in his chest like a loser, and pray that everything just melts away. That when I open my eyes again, it will only be Justin and I.

“You okay?” I hear Trace’s voice again, and I know that nothing is going to change. The night has to go on, time has to pass. Justin has to face his life and I have to face mine.

“We’re okay,” Justin whispers, and pulls back from me slightly, not without planting a soft kiss on my lips first. “Is it time?”

Trace nods slowly. “Yeah, Tiny’s waiting to take you downstairs,” he whispers, shooting me a concerned look.

“All right.” He takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. “You’re gonna come watch right?” He asks me. “Right at the front…by the stage?”

I nod. “I’ll be there,” I promise him.

He smiles slightly, and kisses me again. “You think I’ll choke?”

I shake my head. In a million years, I don’t think Justin could mess up a performance if he tried. The perfectionist in him would never allow him to. And he loves his career too much to @#%$ it all up because of Shane. “You’re going to be great.” I manage to smile, and feel good when it seems to bring him out of his gloom.

“Sing along,” he whispers.

“I will.”

He pulls completely away from me, a look of regret on his face as he does so.  He reaches the door, and Trace hugs him quickly before he ventures out into the hall way.  I see him walk past the door a moment later, Tiny close behind him, and I take a long breath in and out.  He’ll be fine.  Nervous yes, but fine.

“It’s almost over,” Trace speaks up a moment later, and steps inside the room.  He closes the door behind him, and I’m thankful.  I don’t want anybody to see me like this right now…a wreck.  I know I am.  I can feel the tears on my face still, and I know it’s going to take me a few more minutes to snap out of it completely. 

“Tonight sucked,” I tell him, miserably plopping down on the small loveseat.  I tuck a leg underneath my thigh, and rub my face with my hands.  “I fu'cked up, and Justin…you know, I have no idea how he’s getting on stage right now.” I look up again, and this time Trace is sitting next to me.  He’s doesn’t look annoyed, or angry at me, like he’s been for the past week.  I guess I can talk to him right now, and I’m more relieved than he’ll ever know.  “I couldn’t calm him down, Trace.  If anything, I made him more of a nervous wreck.”

He shakes his head.  “No you didn’t,” he chuckles.  “Ker, why do you always think so negative? I mean, he’d be nothing without you.” He bites his lip and takes my hand in his.  “So you got nervous…so we fought…so you…so you should have told him where you were going,” he nods.  “It doesn’t make you the worst person in the world.  You can’t be fu'ckin’ perfect Kerri,” he sighs and pulls back from me.  “Nobody can be.”

I know he has a point, but I can’t make myself believe his words.  I’m so damn hard on myself.  I just want to be good for Justin, and I guess good for Trace too.  I want to be the one that lingers in the background, helps out when she can.  I want to be the one without problems or stress.  The silent partner…even though I’m more of a victim than Trace is.  I guess I just don’t feel I need to be worried about…that my problems aren’t that bad, even though deep down I know that they are.  It’s why I drink, it’s why I don’t sleep enough.  And it’s horrible, but I don’t know what to do.  I can’t just…be selfish and expect everybody to cater to me.  I can’t do it.  I feel guilty.  And feeling guilty is worse than any other feeling in the world.  “I just want to be good for him,” I whisper, not quite meeting his gaze.  “I don’t want to let him down, and---” I let out a long, shaky breath.  “And I don’t want you to hate me, Trace.  I messed up with you…so bad.   When you told me….”

“No,” he interrupts.  “Come on, you know it’s not like that.  I know you don’t blame me, okay?” He smiles at me a little bit, but I don’t smile back.  “I know it was hard and confusing for you at first, because you were figuring your whole thing with Justin out still.  And tonight…things were chaotic because he got sick--” His voice trails off and he stares at me.  “I didn’t mean to call you a sl'ut,” he continues.  “You love him, and I know that.  I just didn’t expect him to…move so fast.  It worries me Kerri.  I don’t want him to lose it and hurt you, like the last time.”

“I don’t think he could hurt me,” I tell him.  Really, I don’t think he could.  Not now.  Not after all of this…not when we’re so in love.  I know the fact that Justin and I did the ultimate is freaking Trace out, just because of the rape any everything.  But, even though Trace is his best friend…he can’t understand.  He still wasn’t there with us, he doesn’t know what happened after…how I had to sit in that dirty house with him and let him cry, and try not to cry myself…even though I ended up hysterical anyway.  I think Justin might have loved me then too, in some weird crazy way.  Hell, in some weird crazy way, we’ve always been in love.  I know that.  “I’m being careful,” I nod.  “But we’re ready, Trace.  I’m sorry it freaks you out and everything, and I know you didn’t’ mean to call me names, just like I didn’t mean to blame you.”

He sits back and sighs, before removing his baseball cap and running a hand through his dark brown mess of curls.  “Let’s just let it go, before we confuse the crap out of each other even more,” he chuckles.  “Deal?”

I bite my lip, unsure of the whole situation.  If I’m even going to be allowed to confide in him after tonight…after he goes back home to sort out his own life.  “Am I still allowed to talk to you,” I whisper.

He looks at me like he doesn’t know who I am.  “What the hell kind of question is that?” He shakes his head.  “Ker, you’re my best friend.  Of course you can.  I might be going home and sh'it but, I’m going to call, and I want to know how you’re doing.”  He sits up again, and touches my face, before running a hand through my hair.  “Despite what you may think, I do care,” he frowns.  “I need you as much as you need me.”

“What if I screw up while you’re gone,” I ask him.  “What if I let everybody down, Trace? What if I can’t do the work?”

He sighs.  “Then I’ll cut my little hiatus short, Kerri.”  He rolls his eyes and pulls me into a hug.  “But that’s not going to happen, because you’re going to be great,” he reassures me, rubbing my back gently. 

“I don’t know…”

“Stop being negative,” he says, pulling back from me after a moment.  “It’s not good.”  He looks down and toys with his wrist watch.  “I really wish you’d get some help already.  You really don’t realize how much better you’d feel.”

This conversation is going in a direction that I don’t want it to go.  While I feel good that my friendship with Trace is still as strong as it’s always been, I’m not about to get into the subject of psychiatrists and getting help and all that.  I’m not…I’m not ready to discuss all of it with some strange person.  I don’t want to be judged.  I don’t want them to tell me that I could have done something about this…that I could have done something to Shane before he tied me up, so Justin would have been okay.  I couldn’t take it.  It’s nobodies business…my problems. 

“We should get out there,” I tell him, forcing back my tears and looking directly into his eyes.  “Justin wants us to watch, and there’s an open bar.”  I get up from the loveseat, my mouth beginning to water at the though of a shot and a beer.  But I’m not surprised when I feel Trace tug on my hand after a moment.  “Trace?”

“Do me a favor and don’t drink tonight,”  he whispers.  “I know I’m bad for saying that . I had like, four drinks at the awards,” he laughs a little, but lets his serious expression take back over quickly.  “But I know my limits Ker.”

“I need it tonight,” I tell him, pulling my hand roughly from his.  “And God, I know my limits too okay?“  Oh yeah, I know my limits.  I have no limit.  Getting drunk to the point where I pass out…that’s my limit.  But I don’t say any of this to him.  I just want him to leave me alone about it, let me do my thing.  Tonight is about partying anyway…even if Justin can’t.  That’s probably selfish too…but I’m too confused and stressed to give a damn right now.  “Just let me do what I need to do, okay Trace?”

He frowns.  “I’m staying with you.”

“Fine.” I force a smile.  “We’ll drink from the bottle together.”

He rolls his eyes.  “How about we just…”

The door swings open.  I gasp, not having expected it, but I relax when I see Eric standing there.  “Hi,” I whisper.

“You two comin?,” he says impatiently.  “They’re about to announce him.”

I nod, and glance back at Trace quickly before making my way out the door.  He doesn’t smile at me, and I’m not surprised.  But really, it doesn’t’ matter.  All that matters is getting that first drink in me.  Then I’ll feel better…

Or at least I’ll start to.

Three days later

I’ve never been so happy to have a day to myself before.  Granted, this isn’t my house, this isn’t my bed, and I don’t have my kick ass alarm system here that’s armed and ready to alert me of any terrors lurking near bye.  But, Eric is sitting outside my door with a magazine, making sure nobody comes to my room that I haven’t invited up.  In an hour or so, he’ll switch off with Tiny, and Tiny will sit outside my door for five more hours before asking me if I want to go get dinner with him.  Maybe I will tonight.  I think I might like to have a normal sit down dinner with the guy for once.  We haven’t done it much since Shane happened, but I’d really like to.  I can talk to the guy, and he listens…and that’s all I need sometimes; somebody that simply listens and doesn’t speak unless I want them to.

But if Tiny is sitting there, listening to me ramble about how fu'cked up I am, how will he be ready to fight back if somebody tries to get me?

No…I’ll just tell him I’d rather eat in tonight.

I honestly don’t know how the hell I made it through the other night.  I was sick; puking and sh'it.  I heard Shane’s voice; his dark, evil, horrible laughter in my head…but I made it.  I made it through sound check, I made it through the interviews…even that really bad one right before we went inside.  I made it past my acquaintances and old friends with a smile, not giving anything away.  I found that I’m still able to do it…hide the truth about myself from people, despite the fact that my shrink did everything in her power to get me out of that habit. 

I called Madison this morning and told her all about it.  Naturally she was disappointed in me, and told me that really, its not healthy that I kept all that inside of me all night long.  She also told me I shouldn’t have walked the carpet either, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just ignore the media, and my fans.  They’d all think I was a coward, or a stuck up as'shole.  I can’t afford to have that kind of press right now…not with Justified’s success and all.  I told her all of that too, and she seemed to understand, but she still sounded worried.  I tried to convince her that I was okay, that the night had just been a big step for me and I guess I wasn’t as prepared as I thought…leaving out the part about me freaking out because Kerri had ran off to the bathroom, of course.

“Justin,” she’d sighed her infamous sigh.  “You realize even though we discussed and agreed that you could tour, you’re still not cured, don’t you? It’s not as if you simply left here, sat in your house for a week or two and got past everything.  I hope that’s not what the people around you are trying to make you think.  If that’s the case, I’ll come out there myself and set them straight.”

I knew she would.  It’s why I put so much faith in her in the first place.  She cares about me, how I’m coping. And I know she’d do anything for me…regardless of the time or place.  A  small part of me wanted to crack then; break down and tell her I needed her more than she knew, but I wouldn’t allow myself to do it.  I’ve said it before, to everybody…I don’t want a shrink out here with me.  I’m afraid of what it will do to my image if somebody finds out…like a fan or a DJ or something.  They’d start asking me too many questions that I know I can’t answer right now, and so…I’ll deal.  I’ll call Madison when I really have to…when nobody else is around to see me do it, just so they wont get the wrong idea.  I’ll be okay.  As long as Kerri is here to hold my hand and reassure me that I‘m not gay and I‘m not a freak, I‘m sure I‘ll be okay. 

“No really, I’ll be okay, Madison.  I don’t need you coming out here,” I’d said quickly.  “Just knowing that I can call you whenever, helps me.  When I come back out to LA, I’ll come see you…maybe we can talk.”

“You sound jumpy,” she’d pointed out, and I felt like a fool for trying to keep my feelings hidden from her.  If I’d learned anything from our sessions together, it was that she could see right through me, hear right through my pathetic attempts at a carefree tone.  “Really, Justin, if you’re not comfortable you need to tell somebody.  I know that a lot is at stake with you and your career, and you feel like you cant cancel the tour because you’ll be letting people down.  But you need to  realize that none of that matters right now.  The only thing that matters is you…putting your well being first, please understand that.  All the money in the world means nothing unless you’re healthy.”

Everything she said had a point, and by the end of the conversation she had my head spinning.  I was reminded of everything that had been running through my mind since VMA night.  Lately, thinking about touring and everything has made me feel tired…like I can’t do it.  Like I can’t handle it.  Sure, when I performed at the VMA’s and Hammerstein it felt good…I felt like I could accomplish anything, but it was really hard.  After it was all said and done, and I’d been lying in bed…Kerri wrapped in my arms, I really started to rethink things.  How awesome it would be to just go home and work sh'it out with my girlfriend and with Trace, have casual dinners with friends, and try to move on with my life slowly…not so hectically. 

I thought, what if I did call the whole damn thing off? Who would lose out more? Would I even have a career to come back to? None of it seemed to matter then.  I really felt that I wanted to go home, and in that moment, I didn’t care about anybody but myself.  I would wake up that morning, call the right people and cancel everything we’d planned out.  They would simply have to understand.  Yes, I could cancel the tour, forget it all and go home…hide in my house with Kerri and be fine.

But then the alarm went off, and the phone rang about a minute later.  Kerri answered, and hung up with a groan.  “Johnny said you have a conference call right after we see Trace off.”

And I knew the idea of canceling anything was ridiculous.

Seeing Trace get on that plane was hard.  I didn’t want him to go, and that morning, I’d sat in his room with him while he packed his bags.  I tried to be calm, and we’d been joking around about different things that had gone on at the shows the night before.  It was laid back for awhile, but then he’d finished packing his last suitcase and I knew he was about to tell me it was time to head out.  I felt like such an idiot, but I hadn’t been able to hold back the few sobs that escaped me.  I hated it…I’d fu'cked up with him so bad, and it was the only reason he was leaving.  If I’d simply listened when he told me what happened with Shane, if I’d simply tried to understand and talk to him about it, instead of turning into a psycho…I’m sure he would have stayed.  Of course I broke down.  Of course I’d cried, hard.  And of course Trace had stood there, staring, not knowing what to do.  He wasn’t going to stay, and he knew that as well as I did.  I needed to stop, I knew that too.  But I couldn’t stop.  I can never stop until it’s too late.

“I’m scared.” Was what I’d finally managed to say, once I regained some composure.

He hadn’t moved from his position by the window.  “I know,” he’d whispered.  “I’m scared too, man.”

And then I’d wiped my tears away, we’d gone and gotten Kerri and Elisha from my room, and then…we were off to wish our friends a regretful farewell.

He’s called me a bunch of times over the past three days.  He sounds really good, really relaxed.  He said that he and Elisha stayed up all night yesterday…just talking.  He told me that he thinks he knows her better now than he ever has, that he loves her more than anybody he’s ever known…and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her.  I’m happy for him, really.  He deserves to feel that way about a girl, and Elisha deserves to be happy with him too.  This is good for him, I guess I knew it was going to be good for him all along . It just…hurts me that he had to push me away to regain that part of his life again.  I feel like I’ve failed him somehow, because way back, when we were just kids, I told him I would always be there for him because he was my best friend.  How am I being there for him now? How was I being there for him when I told him I wished he were dead?

Why the hell does he even give a damn about my ass anymore?

My mom is still here, and I guess I knew she would stick around for awhile.  She’s been in and out, going to my label and to Johnny’s and stuff…having meetings.  I had dinner with her yesterday night, but only because Kerri went out with a couple of people she knows from school ,and she told me she would only go out if she knew I was having a good time too.  My first response was that I was tired, and staying in bed with a movie sounded like plenty of fun to me; but she told me if that’s what I was going to do she wasn’t about to leave me alone.  I felt bad.  Kerri has been putting up with me, and only me for too long now, and I wanted her to see her friends. 

She didn’t tell me exactly who she was going to hang out with, but the better part of me knew that it was probably her roommate, Siobhan.  She was around at the end of the Hammerstein show, talking to Kerri and Trace by the bar.  I hadn’t gone over there, I don’t like talking to people I barely know anymore, but I was happy for my girlfriend.  Trace told me that they hadn’t been on the best terms, and I want her to be on good terms with her friends.  I want her to spend time apart from my psycho ass…its good for her.  So that’s why I told her I would just go to dinner with momma while she spent the night away. 

She started to protest, but then I kissed her and then…well…

It happened again.

I shouldn’t be having this much sex.  Really, it’s not logical.  I know I’m not ready, and when I told Madison about what’s been going on she totally agreed that I wasn’t, but she also said she understood why it was happening.  I asked her if she thought I was really in love, or if I was just trying to hide from being gay.  Then she sort of laughed, and told me that my relationship with Kerri was so complicated, she didn’t think she could answer my question.  I’d tried to laugh along with her, but really, I couldn’t.  Hearing that from her left me feeling even more confused.  I want to be confident that I’m in love with the girl…that I’m not simply hiding behind her to cover my ass…to protect myself from the world finding out what I might truly be.  The more I think about, the more reassured I am that I do love Kerri with my whole heart.  But it doesn’t stop the negative thoughts from yanking at me …telling me that I’m wrong, that I’m going to end up hurting her in the end, and that she will eventually hate me for it.

“Aren’t you tired?,” Kerri giggles.

I draw her close to me, and plant a long, loving kiss on her lips.  “No.  I could probably go again.”

“Justin,” she scoffs.  “If we do that I’ll be late for dinner.”

She’s going out again tonight too.  While I don’t’ mind; while I’m glad that she’s spending some much needed alone time with friends she hasn’t seen in months, I can’t help but be a little bit disappointed.  We haven’t had a night totally to ourselves in a long time.  I’ve been wanting to take her out while we’re still in the city.  Maybe to dinner and a movie…if its safe enough.  But I didn’t bring up the idea soon enough.  By the time I got through with my conference calls and interviews today, Kerri had already made plans to go out with Siobhan and some other friends to a little club in midtown.  It’s good for her though.  She’ll be happy…and later on tonight, I’ll get to lay with her.  That’s fine by me.  I’m sure momma has some stuff to go over with me tonight anyway.  “All right,” I whisper, caressing her face with my hand.  “We don’t have to.”

She stares at me a moment, seemingly unsure of herself.  “You’re not upset are you?”

“What?” I scoff.  “Kerri, you’re kidding me right?”

“No I just…,” she pauses and sighs heavily.  “I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you, or running off with my friends and leaving you alone.  I know I’ve been doing it a lot this week.  I can call her and tell her I can’t make it, baby,” she says, giving me a soft kiss.  “We can spend the night together.”

While I would love to say yes, the better part of me won’t allow myself to do it.  I’d feel too guilty, keeping her from her friends.  Besides, the tour starts in a few days…and we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other then.  I’m not going to deny her a few days of carefree fun.  Who knows when she’ll get the opportunity to do it again?  “No no,” I shake my head.  “You go okay? I want you to…we’ll have plenty of time together later on.”

She cuddles up to me and rests her head against my bare chest.  “Well then what are you going to do? You’ve been cooped up in this room for the past two days, babe.  Granted, you were a little sick, but you’re better now,” she points out.   “Isn’t there someone you can call? What about the guys…or some of your other friends? Can’t you go to a club or something?”

My phone has been ringing non stop the past three days.  It seems that everybody I’ve ever met in my life is in the city this week, and they all want to hang out.  I would love to go too…I would really love to just kick back with some beers and some hash and have a kick ass time.  But right now, I’m not supposed to be drinking or smoking, because of my medication.  My friends don’t know about my meds, or anything like that, and I would feel really uncomfortable explaining to them why it is that I can’t join them in the festivities.  I’m also scared to fu'ckin death of venturing out to a night club right now, or really…any kind of crowded place.  I did the VMA’s and my show because I had to…but if I have the option, I’d rather just stay where I know I’m safe. 

I don’t think I’m ever going to be normal again.

“Eh, nobody’s really around,” I lie, stroking her bare back gently.  “I’ll probably just talk to mom or something, you know?”

She shrugs.  “You can come out with us,” she smiles up at me and traces a pattern on my chest with her finger.  “My other friends haven’t even met you yet, you know? And I think you’d have fun.”

I chuckle a little.  I’m glad she wants to bring me out with her friends, include me in that part of her life.  But of course I wont go.  I don’t know any of those people well enough to be around them for an entire evening.  What if they look at me the wrong way or bring up things that…I just don’t want to talk about?  What if there are guys among her group of friends? I can’t be around a bunch of strange men.  I don’t know how I’ll react.  What if I look at them and start to realize how badly I want to do things with them? I don’t want it to happen…I don’t want to admit what I am.  And I couldn’t hurt Kerri like that.  It’s why I’m so careful about what kind of men I bring around me.  Unless I know them really well…unless I’ve worked with them or spent more than a week with them, I tend to stay far far away from them.  It’s what’s been making my meetings and interviews so hard this week.  The people I’ve been dealing with have been predominantly male, and while it’s not their fault…while they have no idea how hard it is for me to work with them, it’s still been horrible.

I was alone with one particular journalist from Rolling Stone for over an hour today.  By the time he left, I was trembling.  I threw up.  I threw up and he didn’t even try to do anything to me. Actually, he was one of the nicest guys I’ve met in a long time, so it made me feel even worse when I got sick after he left. I didn’t tell anybody about it.   Not even Kerri, even though when we met back here later on I could tell she knew there was something wrong.  I felt bad, keeping it from her, but I didn’t want her to worry.  So I just stripped down, and got in bed with her. 

Sex.  It seems to be the solution to every problem I have lately, and I don’t have a fu'cking clue why.  Really, sex should be the last thing on my mind after what happened.  But having it seems to fulfill me.  Like, it makes me a better person…I can hide from myself with it.  In a way, it’s almost a bonus for me…for us.  I can hide from myself, I get to love Kerri, and she gets to be with me.  In a way we’re both getting things we’ve wanted for a long time, as fu'cked up as it is.  “No, I don’t think so,” I tell her finally.  “I know my mom has some things to go over with me, and you know, I’m not really up for a night club tonight.”

She bites her bottom lip, unsure of the situation now.  “I know that’s not the reason,” she whispers, knowingly.  “You’re scared.”

I’m not in the mood to be talked down, told what I’m really feeling.  Madison did that enough with me this morning, and that’s okay…that’s her job.  But Kerri is my girlfriend, my best friend, my everything.  She knows how messed up I am, and she’s just supposed to understand, not discuss it with me so much. But she does discuss it…far too much, far too often.  While I can’t be upset with her about that, I’ll admit…only to myself of course…that it’s starting to bug the crap out of me, talking about Shane and the kidnapping with her all the time. Why can’t it just be like it was between us before? Why can’t we just lay here, kiss and sh'it, and just…know what the other one is thinking? There shouldn’t be so many damn questions. 

I‘m tired of questions.

“Not now okay?” I grunt.  “I don’t need to answer any more questions, or talk about any more of my feelings with you.  I told you I talked to Madison this morning, and that’s good enough for now.”  I give her a reassuring kiss for added measure, just so she wont think I’m upset with her, before tugging away from her and putting an arm behind my head.  I stare up at the ceiling, hoping that she’ll simply give up and do the same.

“Justin…”

It’s not that easy of course, and I’m an idiot for trying to make it so.

“Look,” I say, not meeting her gaze.  “I’m not in the mood.”  I cross my arms over my chest and sigh heavily.  “Just go and have fun, okay? Stop worrying about all this sh'it.  I’ll be fine…I just need a few more days to get back into the swing of things.”

“It’s like you’d rather I have my head in the clouds than care about what you’re feeling,” she persists.  “Justin, I’m not fu'cking naïve okay? I’m not…in my own little world.  Mentally, I’m practically at the same place as you, and I know you’ve been freaked out about a lot of things over the past couple of days.  Why are you trying to play it off like it’s nothing?” She shifts herself closer to me again, and cups my cheek in her hand.  “I’m supposed to be the one you’re honest with.  I thought that’s why we started this relationship…because we understand each other.”

I’m in this relationship because I love her, and I know I love her.  But damn, sometimes I wonder who I’m really putting all this effort in for.  Is it for me? Am I simply trying to convince myself that I can have a normal sex life, a normal love life? Is it just that I love her, and I want to be with her…and the rape doesn’t have anything to do with my feelings? Or am I doing this solely for her benefit? I wonder, if things had gone differently and I told her I couldn’t love her…would she think I was really gay? I realize I don’t have any answers, and I’m not going to get any.  Why do I have to be the one that’s left clueless? Everybody else that’s been questioning me this week, has gotten their fu'cking answers.  Don’t I deserve that too? Don’t I deserve to be less confused…

Maybe not.

“So I’m fu'cking scared,” I grunt, looking away from her totally.  I reach over and grab my bottle of pills off of the nightstand.  “Is that it, Kerri?  Is that what you wanted to hear?” I stutter nervously with the words, and my hands are shaking as I try to grasp the bottle and get the child cap off of it. “Because that’s the truth.  I don’t even know why I should have to tell you that now.” I get the cap off after a moment, but my hands are shaking so bad now, that I end up dropping bottle.  The pills spill all over the bed, and I let out a miserable whimper. 

“Baby, please relax.”  She grabs my trembling hands, the tears apparent in her silver-blue eyes.  “You’re shaking.”

“I know,” I whisper, and tug away from her.  We gather up the pills together, and I put mine back into the bottle before holding it out to her so she can pour in the rest.  She keeps two out for me, and we exchange items so I can take my medicine.  I’m still shaking, and so, I use extreme caution when taking my bottle of water off the nightstand so I won’t spill that too. 

I take my pills and we sit in silence.  Of course I let her cling to me, and she sobs a little into my chest.  Sh'it, I’m making her worry again.  She doesn’t deserve it, but I don’t want to go into any kind of details with her right now.  I don’t want to tell her how I felt around that damn journalist.  How I kept looking at his crotch, trying to figure out if I had some kind of longing for it . God, what the hell was I doing? Did he notice? Is he going to put that in his story?  I rub my face with my hand, and shake my head.  “I thought I wanted him,” I mutter, my thoughts escaping my mouth before I can stop myself. 

She sits up a little.  “What, Justin?”

I look over at her.  Oh hell, I blew it…I really did.  Now I’m going to have to either tell her the truth, or lie.  I always lie…to everybody, and I hate myself for it.  It’s not fair to them, and its especially not fair to Kerri, the girl I supposedly love.  “Nothin.” I chicken out quickly.  I’m such a little pus'sy.  I can’t even tell my girlfriend what’s on my mind, because I’m too embarrassed.  “Just go out with your friends and have a good time okay? I’ll probably take a nap or something, anyway.  Really, Ker, I wouldn’t be fun tonight.  I’d just hold you back.”

She doesn’t seem to hear me.  “I’m not deaf you know,” she points out.  “I heard you.  You said you thought you wanted him.  Justin, why are you thinking that way again? I thought we were past this…I thought--”

“I’m fine!” God, I don’t want to yell at her.  I don’t want to at all, but she’s just…she’s pressing me.  She’s pressing me and she knows better.  “I’m fine Kerri! Just, leave me the hell alone okay?”

“Oh.”

Silence.

I sit up and hug my knees to my chest.  I rock myself a little, and I know I look as bad as I did when I was in the clinic, but I don’t care right now.  It’s calming me down, and that’s all that really  matters.  “I’m not in the mood,” I whisper.

“Apparently.”

A minute later, I feel her slide out of the bed.  I stop rocking myself, afraid that she’s going to leave and never come back because I’ve made her feel horrible.  “Kerri I’m sorry,” I tell her, watching her naked form move about the room.

She bends down and yanks her shirt off of the floor.  It landed there while we were kissing.  I tore it off of her, she laughed; then I pushed her down on the bed and crawled on top of her .  That was only an hour ago.  I was acting like myself an hour ago.  Why can’t I be now?  Why can’t I just stay in one frame of mind for more than a fu'cking day?

“I know you’re sorry,” she mutters, yanking the shirt over her head.  “Don’t worry about it.”

I force myself to get out of the bed.  I know if I don’t reassure her, something will go wrong.  She might leave me again, and god, I couldn’t handle that.  I just couldn’t.  “Please don’t be mad, okay?” I shuffle over to her, not even caring about getting some clothes on at this point.  I pull her half naked body close to mine, and brush the hair out of her face gently.  “It’s just been a long day and…I just wanted to lay with you and not have to deal with it.  I should talk to you, and I know that but…there’s just some moments when I don’t want to talk to anybody.”

She nods a little, but her eyes aren’t connecting with mine.  It’s like she’s afraid to look into them right now, because if she does she might see the truth hidden behind them.  And that’s probably a good thing.  I don’t want her to know the truth.  Hell, I don’t even want to know the truth.

“Ker…”

“I love you, okay?,” she whispers, seemingly forcing herself to put a hand to my cheek.  “And I worry about you a lot, Justin.  Now that Trace is gone, I’m the only one who knows…” She trails off and shakes her head.  “I guess I just figured you’d want to vent to me more…because there’s nobody else.  But I guess Madison solved your problems earlier or something.” 

She’s upset that she couldn’t be the one to hear what I had to say.  She wants to be the one…the only one that I can confide in.  And while it makes me feel good, knowing that I can confide in her like that, it worries me too.  Kerri has her own problems that she should be dealing with too; yet she pushes them all to the side to worry about me. 

I wish I could find some way around that…I wish I could find a way to make her stop putting me before herself.  But I know that’s impossible.  She cares too much, her heart is too big.  But really, I know the main problem is, she’s too scared to help herself.   She’s scared to think about what happened to her, and it’s a horrible way to be…but for as long as I’ve known the girl, she’s constantly pushed her problems under the rug . She’s not one to sit and dwell on things.  She likes to keep her mind occupied with her friends and family.  I don’t blame her for doing that of course…I commend her for wanting to be here for me and sh'it.  But then, I also know sooner or later all of it is going to catch up with her…

And then I don’t know what she’ll do.

“I’ll talk to you about it,” I say, reluctantly.  “I’ll tell you right now…”

She shakes her head.  “Don’t talk to me because you think it’s going to make me happy, Justin,” she whispers.  “Talk to me because you want to.  Look, I’m not angry or upset that you went to Madison before me.  I understand all of that…why you feel like you can talk to her and everything.  It’s fine.” She forces a smile and gives me a soft kiss.  “Just tell me you’re not going to sit here and be a wreck all night.”

“God, baby,” I sigh and hug her close to me.  “I’m going to be fine.  I’m gonna call my mom as soon as you leave.”

“Okay.” This time she doesn’t kiss me.  She only pulls away from me and finishes dressing herself. 

I sit on the bed and yank my boxers on, before laying back down again.  I cover myself with the comforter, and watch her as she starts to fix her hair and makeup in the mirror.  God, she’s so beautiful.  Everything about that girl is beautiful.  And I realize that I really do love her…it’s not some big confusing thing at all, and I’m an idiot for thinking that it is.  I do love her, and I need to focus on that.  I need to forget about Shane and being gay and being scared.  I want to get over my fears, right now.  “I love you.” The words are soft, barely audible coming out of my mouth, but I know she’s heard me.

“I know.”

She finishes preparing herself for her evening out, not saying anything else to me.  All I can do is lie here and stare, wishing that for once I could be normal…go out with her tonight and chill with her group of friends.  I even try to make myself believe that I can, but the better part of me knows I’d be miserable the whole evening…cowering in the corner of the nightclub.  So I’ll let her go on her own, just like I knew I would.  I’ll feel like sh'it all night, my mother will probably be upset with me because I’ll hardly look her in the eye, and I’ll fall asleep long before my girlfriend returns from her night on the town.  Knowing Kerri, she’ll probably have a few in her…and she won’t say a thing to me when she gets in.  She’ll just pass out, and have a horrible headache in the morning. 

This is officially the worst trip to New York City I’ve ever had.

Kerri and I sit in bed together and watch the first half of the five o’clock news, before her cell phone rings.  She’s on and off within five minutes, and I know it’s time for her to leave.  I give her a quick kiss, and tell her that I’m going to call ahead to Eric and make sure he escorts her out of the hotel.  Naturally, she rolls her eyes and tells me that Siobhan is only three blocks away, but I tell her I’ll feel better if Eric sees her off.  She doesn’t argue with me of course, she only kisses me and tells me to ‘get some rest’, before throwing her puffy down jacket on and walking out of the bedroom.  I hear the door close.  I’m alone.  And it’s now that I know I can let my true feelings show.

I cry for a little while…maybe an hour, maybe more.  Then I just lay there.  I’m in a daze, the medicine is finally starting to work . My eyes start to droop, and I fight to keep them open…but they only  get heavier and heavier.  Finally, I give in.  The dark is calming for awhile, and my mind starts to drift.  Then I feel myself start to float…then fall.  I’m falling through the darkness, too fast, and I can’t stop.  I scream, cry out for help…and then it stops.  I’m not falling anymore, I’m laying down.  I recognize the place…I recognize it all too well, and I want to run far far away.  But I can’t move.  I’m tied down to this bed, and I know within a matter of moments the horrors are going to come back to me all over again.  I see him before me now, smiling, undressing…he kisses me.  God…please…

Don’t worry baby.  I love you.

I cry out.  “God…no! NO!”  Then I’m back…I’m back here in my hotel room.  I sit straight up in bed, gasping for a breath, my eyes flying wildly around the room, searching for him.  Is he here? Is he going to come and hurt me?  “Where are you!” I whimper.

Silence. 

Soaked in sweat, and trembling, I try to make sense of this.  What happened? I was thinking...remembering and then… oh.  The medication.  I fell asleep.  I fell asleep and I was dreaming.  I look over at the clock on my nightstand.  It’s already eight o’clock.  My cell phone is flashing too, and when I pick it up it tells me that I have three missed calls.  I review them.  My mom, my mom, and oh…my mom.  I sigh.  She’s probably worried because I didn’t pick up.  I know should call her, but I’m still a mess.  Still a fu'cking mess and I can’t calm down.  I need Kerri.  I want her to come back.  I look at my phone again, and I almost call her, but I force myself not to.  I can’t pull her away from her friends.  I can’t spoil her evening just because I’m having another ‘episode.’

My phone starts to ring.

“Hi mom.” I clear my throat a little, and pray that she assumes I was sleeping.  “Sorry I missed you.”

“Lord, you had me worried.  Tiny told me he tried to knock on your door but you didn’t answer.  He was sure you were sleeping but…I don’t know, I guess I must worry too much Justin.”

That makes two of us.

“I’m okay.  I took my pills just before Kerri left, so I guess it made me tired.  I didn’t hear my phone,” I tell her.  At least it’s not a lie, and I feel good about it.  But I know what’s coming next.  She’s going to want to come up here and talk, because she knows that Kerri won’t be back until late.  Before I thought I’d be able to handle it, and talk to my mom.  I even thought it might relieve some stress.  But after that dream, all I want to do is hide under the covers with my little flashlight and write about everything in my journal.  Right.  I’ll write in my journal because it can’t judge me or tell me I’m overreacting. 

I pray momma won’t butt in. 

“What do you say I bring us something from Carmines?,” she offers, her voice more upbeat.  “You love their vegetable lasagna, Justin.”

The thought of eating anything right now, makes me feel sick.  But if I tell her that, she’ll worry.  And I make her worry enough about me as it is, without putting the notion that I’m not eating right into her head.  “Okay,” I manage to say, without an ounce of discomfort in my voice. 

“Great.  I’ll see you in about twenty minutes.”

She hangs up, and I sigh.  Great.  Now I have to be fake again, hold back, and I really don’t know if I have the energy to do that tonight.  It kills me that things have to be this way between me and my mother, because I never had to keep anything from her before this all happened.  It used to be great…she used to get me, and I could talk to her like I could talk to Trace and Kerri.  Now though, I’m afraid.  When she found out I was cutting, she changed a lot.  The first time she came to visit me in that clinic, she babied me more than anything else.  It freaked me out, because my mother has never been one to baby me or shelter me. 

Even when I was young, and doing all those talent shows and things…she treated me like I was older, like I was mature.  I loved her for that.  But things are changing more and more with her, whenever I spend time with her it seems.  It’s like somebody snatched up my mother, like they snatched me up, and replaced her with this pleasant little motherly mother who just wants to cook me food and tell me how much she loves me.  While I shouldn’t be so weird about it, while I should be comforted by the fact that she loves me more than ever…

I just want her to be my friend.  I just want her to be like she was before Shane came and fu'cked up my life. 

I miss her.

I get a quick shower in before she comes, thinking it will get me prepared to face her.  Surprisingly it does.  The warm water seeps into my skin, relieving the tension that’s most likely been with me since VMA night.  I let go…I don’t think about anything.  My mind is blank and I love that.  I can just…be.  I wish it could always be like this.  Even with Kerri, and Trace and everybody else that I love…I wish my mind could just be blank, free of memories of any kind.  I wish there was some kind of mind zapper that existed, so it could wipe away all my memories.  Then I could start over, have a whole new life…never worry again.

Slam

My heart skips a beat, and I whimper softly.  I know that somebody has entered my hotel room.  While I’m almost positive that it’s my mother, I can’t make myself completely believe it.  What if Tiny stepped away from my door for a bathroom break…what if somebody from this hotel is psychotic and got a key to my suite? What if they’re here now…what if they want me like…

“Justin! Are you in the shower?”

Momma.  I lean against the wet shower wall and slide down to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees.  I thank the powers that be for keeping the psychos away for today, and run my hands through my mess of hair.  “I just got out,” I manage to say a moment later.  “Just let me dry off and I’ll be right out, momma.”

“Well just throw any old thing on,” she chuckles, knowing how long it takes me to pick out my outfits.  “We’re not going anywhere.”

I force myself to get up from the shower floor, and I get out.  I dry off, throw some sweats and a t-shirt on before venturing out of the bedroom and into the living room.  I see my mom and I smile.  She’s dressed in pajama’s, and I’m assuming she’s done this so I’ll feel more laid back.  Deep down, I’m certain she wants me to be laid back so I’ll talk…and of course I don’t want to talk to her about any of it.  But perhaps, it’s time for me to stop this stupid charade.  Maybe it’s time to just sit with my mom, and tell her my true feelings…tell her how I feel about our bond, and about…everything I’m afraid of.  I know Kerri and Trace both feel that I should talk about the rape with her too.  I should…

But I don’t know if I can.

“Hey baby babe,” she smiles, and pats the empty space beside her on the sofa.  “I told them no peppers.”

“Thanks.”  I sit down beside her and kiss her on the cheek.  “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know,” she sighs tiredly as she pulls all the food out of the bag, and sets it on the coffee table.  “Long, strenuous, a million questions that I couldn’t or didn’t want to answer,” she chuckles.  “What about you?”

I shrug.  “Stupid.”

She nods.  “Where did Kerri run off to tonight?”

“Oh, she went to a club with some friends,” I tell her quietly.  Next she’s going to ask my why I didn’t go, and I can either tell her the real reason, or just fu'ck around and tell her I’m tired like I always do.  But damn it, I’m tired of making sh'it up.  I never, ever lied to my mother before the kidnapping.  She knew everything, and now she doesn’t know sh'it.  It’s not fair, and suddenly all the annoying conversations I’ve had with Kerri about talking to my mom are actually starting to make sense.  She doesn’t deserve to be in the dark anymore.

“You didn’t go,” she tells me with a sad tone.  “Justin, you’re not having problems are you?”

“No mom,” I sigh.  I can feel it.  I know I have to tell her, as much as I‘m afraid to do it.  If I don‘t, if I keep living like this…living a lie, I‘m never going to get past it.  Maybe if I do tell my mom about Shane and about my fears, it will all fade away.  Maybe I won‘t be afraid, maybe the dreams will go away.  Maybe…maybe I‘ll be able to be normal again.  “That’s not it at all.”

“Justin.”  She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.  “I’m so worried about you,” she whispers, the fear and sadness apparent in her eyes.  “I feel like I don’t know you anymore, honey.  And, I know that’s a horrible thing for me to be saying right now.  I know how important it is for me to stay positive and let you have your space, but it’s been really hard…getting used to this new version of you.  I feel like there’s nothing I can do or say to make your pain go away.”

She feels like such a failure, and I know it’s my fault.  If Kerri were here, I know I’d simply hold her hand, cry, and let all of my horrible feelings gush out of me like the blood from my cuts used to.  But Kerri isn’t here to encourage me.  This is all on me right now.  Right now, I have to find the strength inside of me to do this.  I have to be strong on my own, and my god, it’s so fu'cking hard. 

I think about everything Madison has told me about holding my head high, and looking people in the eye when I admit my feelings.  But what the hell am I supposed to do? Hold my head high, be proud that that sick ba'stard had sex with me?  My god, what the hell is momma even gonna think about this?  “Mom.” My voice cracks, but I don’t try to cover it up.  “I want you to help me.  I…I do need you around.  I’m just afraid.” I tear my gaze from hers and look down at my lap, sucking in my bottom lip as I do so.

“Justin, I know you’ve been through a lot,” she tells me softly.  “But I don’t understand why you feel you can’t talk to me about how afraid you were, or how afraid you still are.  Whatever it is, whatever happened…I want to know about it, so I can help you to get past it.”

I manage to look at her after several minutes of silence.  She’s not crying, and I’m thankful.  I don’t think I could take that right now.  “I’m afraid that…you wont love me anymore, mom.”

She bites her lip, confused about what I’ve just told her.  But of course she’s confused.  I’m her son, and she’s always loved me, and right now…she can’t think of a reason in the world why she’d ever stop.  She doesn’t get it.  She doesn’t understand what he did to me, because I haven’t told her.  “Justin, how could you think I would ever stop loving you?  You’re my son, and I’ll never stop loving you okay?”

“But you don’t know,” I whimper.  “Mom, you don’t know.”

She pulls me into her, and cradles me in her arms like I’m five years old again.  Like the time my pet turtle stopped coming out of its shell and I just didn’t understand why.  She held me then, told me that everybody has their time to meet God, and that one day…even I would.  She made me feel so much better about it, that Myrtle the Turtle would be happy in his turtle heaven.  And I went on, I got a new turtle the next week…and everything was okay.  But, this conversation isn’t about a turtle.  No, not at all.  It’s about rape…that it happened to me, and really, I have no idea how she’s going to react. 

“Tell me,” she whispers, kissing my temple lightly as she rocks me in her arms.  “Tell me anything, Justin.”

“When I was there…When I was there…he took Kerri away,” I confess, my voice trembling with every word.  “I thought he killed her.”  I look up to her for the guidance I know I need, and she nods at me reassuringly, telling me that she’s listening.  “But…but he didn’t kill her momma.”

“What happened, Justin,” she whispers.

“He got upset with me,” I moan.  “Because Kerri and I got into this stupid fight over stupid sh'it.  And…he hit me and kicked me until I passed out.  When I woke up, I was…on this bed, handcuffed…”

I hear her gasp, and I wonder if I should just stop…tell her nothing else happened.  It will be safer that way, she won’t have to deal with this horrible pain that I’ve been faced with.  But I think it’s too late to stop myself.  I’ve already dished out part of the horrible details. Stopping now would leave her wondering, and that’s just pointless.  “Mom.”

She looks me in the eyes.  “Yes baby,” she whimpers. 

I can see it in her eyes.  She’s getting the idea.  She knows how sick he was…and I’m sure she knows that he did something to me.  Do I even need to say it? Hell.  “He made me have sex with him.” The words sound hollow, empty, emotionless coming out of my mouth.  Immediately, I’m numb all over…I can’t feel the pain, and that’s a good thing.  I don’t want to.  I don’t want to feel anything right now.

The tears spill out of her eyes, and run down her face in steady, thick trails.  I want to do something to make her pain go away, but there’s nothing I can do.  The truth is out now.  She knows what her son has turned into, and she’ll never be able to look at me the same way again.  I feel like I’ve just lost a huge part of my life again, and of course, there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Why didn’t you say something,” she whispers, sniffling a little bit. 

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” I’m sobbing now, and I know it’s only going to complicate the situation more, but I can’t hold back.  I’m too overcome with emotion to try.

After staring at me in shock for several minutes, she finally snaps out of it and pulls me close to her again.  “I love you,” she reassures me, running a soothing hand through my hair and down my neck as I cry into her.  “Nothing will ever change that, Justin.”

“I’m a freak, mom,” I moan.

“Listen to me,” she says in my ear.  “I. Love. You.”

I manage to pull away and look at her.  “I’m so scared,” I confess.  “All the time, mom.  I know he‘s dead but…I‘m scared.”

And she nods.  She understands.  She’s not going anywhere either, and it’s fu'cking unbelievable.  I thought she’d hate me…run away and never want to lay eyes on me ever again.  But here she is letting me cry about it.  I feel so stupid for hiding this from her for so long.  Maybe if I’d just been honest, like I’d been honest with Trace, Madison, and Kerri, I’d feel better about myself . But I can’t dwell on the past.  I can only look to the future, and hope that this moment in time will put my life in a positive direction for the future.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” she tells me.  “I’m here, and I’ll always be.”

And we hug, and sob together.  Then I fall asleep again, in her warm embrace, and I feel safe.  Completely safe, for the first time in ages.

It feels good to be out with my friends.  Even if I’m worried about Justin, and how he’s doing back at the hotel by himself, I know I need to relax and have a good time tonight.  So far, it’s been fun.  Siobhan brought Scott, our good friend Shondel, and a few of our other acquaintances out with us tonight.  It’s been good seeing everybody again.  My mind has been so swamped with Justin’s problems, Trace’s problems, and my own…that I think I forgot what it’s like to just kick back with friends have and have a carefree, fun time. 

When I first ran into Siobhan at Hammerstein, I was coming back from the stage.  Justin had finished his show, which had gone awesome considering the circumstances.  I’d given him a little kiss, and he’d told me to find Trace so we could go back to the hotel and have a little celebration of our own.  I did as he’d asked of course, but before I could get halfway across the dance floor, who should I run into but Siobhan and Scott.  It was awkward, I’d been paralyzed with the fear of her screaming at me like she had on the phone when I’d been in Los Angeles.  I even went so far as to pretend not to see her.  But when she called my name, I figured the purpose of her attending the show in the first place was to see me.  I’d turned around, tried to smile, but failed miserably of course.  Then I’d gone over to her.  Scott had smiled at me, but I didn’t smile at him.  Then I’d said “Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

It was the first thing she’d asked me, and I was a little shocked.  I figured she would have yelled at me, told me I was an idiot to be hanging around Justin as much as I was.  But she didn’t even seem concerned that we’d been fighting, she wasn’t giving me an attitude, and she wasn’t angry.  If anything, she seemed worried.  I knew that despite how much she disagreed with the decisions I’d made in my life over the past few months; she still cared, and she still wanted me to be okay.  After all, she’d been the one there for me all those weeks before Trace had called with his urgent news. She’d sat up with me in the middle of the night, when I’d woken up screaming from some horrifying nightmare, and she refused to leave my side.  I remembered all of that…I remembered that she’d been my best friend for four years, and I’d felt a part of me that had been missing for so long, come back to me then.  I felt like crying.  I realized how much I did need her, how much I’d missed her.  But I had no idea what I could say to let her know that. 

“I’m okay.” It was a pathetic answer, but it was the best one I’d been able to conjure up at the time.  “I…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“My father has a friend,” she’d laughed a little.  “He got us in at the last second, and I knew you’d be here.   I wanted to see you, K.”

I’d managed to smile.  “Thanks for coming out.”

Then, as if nothing had happened between us at all, she linked her arm through mine and we walked over to where Trace was standing at the bar.  He seemed a little shocked that Siobhan was with me…but he didn’t point out the fact that we’d been having problems.  He accepted her as his friend, as he always has.  We talked, caught up on things that had been going on over the past few months.  It was a little awkward, just falling back into place with her like that.  But then again, that’s what best friends do.  They fight, stop speaking, and then…just like that, everything comes right back together again.  It was a little like my reunion with Justin, only not as complicated.  I knew that no matter what I did, how stupid I acted, she couldn’t stay mad at me forever.  Just like I couldn’t stay mad at her.  She would always be my friend, and I was thankful.  I know I need her…just to be able to talk to when I feel I have nobody else.  And I feel like that a lot.  Lately, more than ever.  I mean, I know I have Justin.  I’ll always have Justin.  But with the tour, and trying to keep our relationship afloat…its just hard ,and complicated. 

I can’t put all of my problems on him.

I feel horrible that Justin and I got into an argument before I left.  But I get really annoyed with him when he closes himself off from me.  I guess he does it because he’s concerned about my own feelings getting fu'cked up, but my feelings aren’t important.  I wish he would get that through his head.  It’s important that he talks to me, and tells me how he’s afraid or how he’s nervous.  It makes me feel like I have a real purpose when he opens up to me, that I’m not just some stupid girl from Tennessee that he happens to love.  If I help him, it also means that I’m not as messed up as I think.  I’m not a drunk, I’m not a mental case, and I’m not unbalanced.  It means I’m stable enough to care about somebody besides myself, and that’s all the reassurance I need to keep going…to do the job I’ve been given.  It gives me the strength to ignore how scared I am of the world and the people in it.

Right now, I even feel it.  This club is pretty small, and the walls…they seem to be slowly closing in on our group as the minutes pass.  I’ve been trying not to let it effect me.  I mean, it’s not effecting anybody else.  But that’s just because they can’t see it like I can.  They don’t realize how small it is in here, how confining.  Really, I wish we were outside walking through the city.  It’s so big out there, nothing can close in on us or crush us like these walls can.  I wish there was some way to tell them how much better off we’d all be if we went outside, but really, what the hell would I say? They’d think I was crazy…they’d realize how bad I’ve gotten due to this whole thing.  And of course, I can’t have that.

We’re on our fifth round of drinks, and all of my friends are having a great time reminiscing about things that are going on at school…at the parties on the weekends.  I remember I used to get a kick out of those stories, having been there to witness most of them.  I used to have a lot of fun at school.  Being here has sort of reminded me of that life…and while I’ll never admit it to Justin, spending time with my friends in the city this week has sort of turned back time for me.  It’s reminded me of who I was during that three year period when I wasn’t speaking to Justin.  I realize how different I was then.  How much more faith I had in myself…how much more confidence I had in myself then.  I was mad at Justin then, too stubborn to speak to him, and I was proud of myself for being that way. 

What the hell happened to me? Just a year ago, I was sitting in this very same club, with the very same people…laughing and joking right along with them.  Now, if I laugh I feel guilty.  The thought that something is wrong with Justin, that he’s upset about something is constantly nagging at me, telling me that I’m not allowed to have a good time unless he‘s having one too.  I have to stay focused for him, because if I don’t, he might not make it.  I’m the one…the only one that he completely trusts besides Trace and his mother.  And his mother, I mean…she doesn’t even know.  So really, that just leaves Trace and I, and well, Trace is gone.  So that just leaves me.  It just leaves me to do all the work, and I have to do it to the best of my ability and not feel bad about anything else.  Justin loves me, and that should be enough to keep me happy.  

Justin loves me, he was there with me…he gets it because he knows how sick they were.  If he was ever angry with me, I’d probably break down…lose my mind.  And it’s sad, pathetic…but I couldn’t survive without him either.  I think I’d die without him.  Is there something wrong with that? Do I love him too much? Is there such a thing as loving somebody too much? Yes.  It’s called being obsessed.  I’m obsessed with my boyfriend.  But really, that can’t be a crime.  Wanting to spend every waking moment with somebody, and obsessing about them when you’re apart just means your feelings are strong. 

I mean, right?

“Oh Shondel’s got the goods!” Siobhan cackles, and puts out her cigarette.  “Break it up girl…hurry.”

Shondel flaps the small packet back and forth in the air with a smile.  I take a closer look.  It contains a white powdery substance, and I’d have to be stupid if I didn’t know what it was.  It’s a well known fact that our little cluster loves to party with cocaine, even though I’ve never tried it.  Sio loves it of course.  She says it makes sex insane.  But she’s never pressured me into trying it, and I‘ve never really had the urge to.  I’m getting my kicks tonight with my beers and cocktails anyway.  Trace would be disappointed…but I don’t care what he thinks.  The alcohol is probably the only thing that’s keeping me from running out of this confining club and out onto the street.  It’s a never ending spigot of pleasure, and I have no idea when I’ll ever get a chance like this again.  When I’m on tour, I know I can’t go on a crazy drinking binge with Justin around.  He’s not allowed any alcohol and I don’t want to make him upset.  Of course, I know I’ll probably sneak a few beers in when he’s too preoccupied to notice what I’m doing, but I don’t know when that will happen. 

I sit back and Siobhan puts a hand on my shoulder.  We watch Shondel expertly pour the coke out onto her little compact mirror and start to form lines with it.  Then Siobhan giggles, and nudges me a little bit

“Have some with me,” Sio giggles in my ear.  “It’s a great stress reliever.”

Siobhan knows I drink a lot. While I was still living with her, she’d see me come home with a bottle of something or other almost every day, but she never confronted me about what I was doing.  She’s never been one to get worried about that kind of thing.  In fact, I doubt the thought that I might have a problem even crossed her mind…but that’s probably because she parties so much, gets high so often with our friends and her boyfriend.  Actually, she gets high a little too often, with drugs that nobody should mess around with.  She’s no addict of course.  Siobhan is very level headed when it comes to controlling her intake, but still…drugs are dangerous.  But since she parties so hardcore all the time, it doesn’t give her a place to tell me to slow down. 

The selfish part of me almost wishes I were still living back here with her so I could drink and do whatever I damn well please, without being harassed about it constantly.  But I’m sure that would send me down that long dark road that Trace is constantly reminding me about.  Yes, I’m sure it’s better that I have his ass around to nag the crap out of me about not drinking so much.  Without him, I’d probably be a drunken mess most of the time…

Kind of like I am right now.

“I don’t know,” I giggle, my last few drinks having completely dimmed my ability to think and focus properly. I finish off the last of my drink, and slide the glass away.  “I’ve had a bunch to drink, Sio.”

“Oh come on,” she rolls her eyes, and slides the mirror her way after Shondel and Scott do their lines.  “One time isn’t going to kill you.  Just see what all the fuss is about, girl.”  She hands me the small plastic tube that everybody has been sticking up their nose, and even though that’s a bit nasty considering all the crap that ends up in people’s noses, I smile and take it from her anyway.  Maybe it’s not so bad…it’s just once, and nobody has to know about it.  I lean down, and Siobhan rubs my back as I do so…

Boy if you want me, then you can have me, I want you to want me, and love me unconditionally…

My phone is ringing, and by the ring tone, I know it’s Justin . I know it’s pathetic, but I have a special song just for him so I can get all excited when he calls me.  I drop the tube, and Siobhan frowns as I pull my phone out of my purse.

“Who is it?” she groans.  “You should forward your calls tonight.  You‘re supposed to be having fun.”

I glance at her quickly.  “It’s Justin.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she does look upset with me.  I told her what’s been going on with Justin and I, that we’re a couple now, and no…she didn’t really like that.  Siobhan has no respect for Justin, but that’s because I talked so much sh'it about him to her in the past, told her what a selfish as'shole he was, that she couldn’t help but hate him.  I feel bad about it now, and I tried to explain that he’s really not as bad as I made him out to be; but she wouldn’t believe me.  As far as she’s concerned, any man that would take my virginity like Justin took mine doesn’t deserve the time of day from me right now, or ever again.  But things are different with us now…and she knows why.  With these thoughts in mind, of course I answer my phone as quickly as I can.  “Hey,“ I say softly, getting up and staggering away from the table so Siobhan can’t eavesdrop on my conversation.

“Hi babe.  How‘s your night out?”  Justin sounds refreshed, like he’s just awoken from a deep, peaceful sleep.  I feel the relief take over me right away.  He’s okay.  He wasn’t freaking out or scared, and he still loves me.  The argument we had doesn’t even matter anymore.

“It’s okay.” My vision is a little fuzzy, and it causes me to stumble a little bit when I walk forward.  I’ve had too much to drink, I realize.  Entirely too much.  It’s a good thing my phone rang.  With all of this alcohol in my system, I don’t know how well I would have done with a shot of cocaine.  Weird how he called just then.  It’s almost like fate stepped in to stop me from becoming more of an as'shole.  “I’m getting’ kinda tired though.”

“You should come back,” he tells me, a twinge of excitement in his voice.  “I need to tell you something.”

I lean up against a wall for support, and gasp a little bit.  He needs to tell me something? Tell me what? Is he okay? Did something happen? “Justin…”

“I’m okay,” he says, as if he can read my mind.  “I just…my mom came by a little while ago, and we talked.”

“Talked?”  He’s gotta be a little more specific right now, because the room is starting to spin and I can’t really concentrate that well.  Damn it.  I’m fu'cking drunk, and it’s not a good thing.  Not at all.

“I told her.”

Oh.  He finally talked to his mother about everything.  That’s good…really good.  I need to be like…excited I guess.  I need to show him that I’m proud of him, and I will…just, I can’t do it right now.  I’m too tired, and after a moment I feel myself slide down to the floor; my intoxicated body too worn out to support me anymore.  “Justin that’s really great,” I force a positive tone.  “I told you how much better it would make you feel to talk to her . I’m really…very proud of you.”  I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall. Tired.  I’m so tired and I’d love to sleep right now.  But I can’t sleep now . Not in the middle of this club. 

“Come back here so I can talk to you,” he pleads.  “I mean, I don’t want to pull you away from what you’re doing…but I just really need to talk to you about this.  It’s a big deal.”

I know this is a huge deal for him, and I want to be a good girlfriend and go to him and kiss him…tell him that he’s beautiful.  That he can finally start to move past all of this now that his mother knows the truth.  I want to do all that, but really, the only thing my drunk mind is allowing me to do right now is sit here on the floor, with my eyes closed.  I think if I tried to force myself to do anything else right now, I’d probably end up hurling all over the place. 

Sometimes I wish Justin were allowed to drink, just so he could know what it’s like to live like I’ve been living.  How everything I do is basically starting to revolve around a glass of Jack Daniels.  I always think, how can I sneak it on a daily basis? How much can I take in on a daily basis? If I don’t drink today, will I be able to get to sleep at night? If Justin finds out my true problems, will he still love me?  “I will be there,” I say, not being able to hold back a drunken little giggle.  “I will be there, and I will…love you.”

“Kerri?”

He knows I’m not right.  Hell, I know I’m not right, and I really hate myself right now.  Something major has just happened to him, and it’s like…I’m too busy being drunk to really care.  It’s not fair to him, and I know that…but I wasn’t counting on this tonight.  Our argument stressed me out, and the moment I sat at that table with my friends, I started to down as many drinks as I could get.  “Justin.”

“If you’re drunk I want you to come back here.”

“I’m not drunk,” I laugh again, knowing that I sound so far from believable right now.  “I’m fine babe.”

He’s silent for a long time after that.  I don’t know if he’s mad, no…no he’s not mad.  Justin doesn’t get mad at me really.  He’s probably upset, and really worried, and that doesn’t mix well with the stress of his own problems.  Trace would kill me if he knew what was going on right now.  He told me I’d do this…that I’d drink too much because there wouldn’t be anybody to stop me.  He’s always right.  Damn it…

I need another drink.

“Kerri,” he whimpers softly after a moment.  “Please come back here.”

“Okay…”

“Just stay there and I’ll send somebody,” he says.  “Okay?”

“No,” I say quickly.  “I can do it.”

“You can’t do it,” he chuckles.  “You sound like you’re a million miles from reality right now, Kerrigan.  Just stay there and I’ll tell Eric--”

“I can fu'cking do it!”  Now I’m yelling, but it’s only because he’s doubting me.  He’s treating me like a child, like I can’t do anything for myself because I’m so fu'cked up.  Well he’s wrong.  I can do it…I can do everything and I don’t need anybody’s help.  I mean, I’ve been handling my sh'it pretty damn well so far for somebody that’s been through what I’ve been through.  Somebody that was locked up, tied up in the dark…dragged out…slapped around, told she was going to die slowly…so slowly…

“I want to see the blood run from your neck,” he’d smiled, taking his knife and holding it under my neck.  “It’ll be beautiful, I think.”

I shudder.

“Fine, you can do it,” he mutters.  “I’m sorry.”

I run a hand through my hair.  The drinks are making me act stupid with my boyfriend, and it’s horrible.  We’ve had enough problems tonight as it is.  He was so happy a minute ago, so proud of himself.  His confidence was built up, and I’m sure he was starting to feel a little bit more like himself.  But then he called me, and of course since I’m a fu'ck up I ruined his mood.  Now he’ll worry.  Now everything that he accomplished tonight doesn’t even matter anymore. I feel like a big stupid moron.  But then again, I always feel this way.  “I didn’t mean to yell,” I tell him, trying as hard as I can to sound sober for him.  But all I end up doing is sobbing into the phone.  “I love you baby.”

“Stop crying,” he says softly, lovingly.  “Just get somebody to help you get a cab, and come back to me okay?  We need to talk about what’s going on with you.  I’m…I’m really starting to think Trace has a point about your drinking problem.”

Naturally, I’m not surprised that Trace went into detail about my little addiction with Justin.  They are best friends after all, and it’s only natural that Trace would vent to Justin about what’s going on with me, despite all the other problems the two of them have been having.  Justin isn’t insane…he’s not stupid, he’s capable of realizing that I have a problem, even if I tell myself that he’s not. 

I guess I just don’t want to believe that he’s stable enough to handle it, because then I really have to come to terms with what’s going on with me…face my problems.  And I don’t want to.  I just want to push it all out, forget about it.  Forget about Shane and Nathan and how fu'cking scared I was, how fu'cking scared I still am of the both of them.  I’ll never, ever forget about what happened to me.  And even though I know Justin will never forget what happened to him either, that the painful memories of his rape will stay with him until the day he dies, at least he knows what he has to do to move on and live his life.  At least he went there, at least he got help…at least he becomes a little more level headed as the days go by. 

I’ll never be able to do any of that, and I envy him for it all.

“Justin…I don’t know what to do anymore.” It’s the first time I’ve really admitted anything this deep to him since the kidnapping, but it’s only because I’m drunk and I have no control.  “I’m still scared.”

“I know,” he tells me, his voice full of understanding.  “I know okay? I’m scared for you. Just come back here. Come back and I’ll keep you safe.”

I try and force myself to get up, but I fall right back down again.  I start to cry harder, upset that I’ve let myself get this way tonight.  I didn’t even realize how much or how many I’d had.  Didn’t even realize how fuzzy my vision was becoming, or how muffled my friends voices were starting to sound.  It was all one big whirlwind.  One big blur.  And then the walls started to close in, kind of like they are right now…  “There’s no room in here,” I say to him.  “It’s small, Justin.”

“Put Siobhan on the phone,” he orders. 

“I can‘t get up,” I whine.

I hear him take a long breath in and out.  “Come on Ker, get yourself together and put her on the phone for me,” he says in a positive tone.  “I know you can do it.”

Maybe I can.  I try again, try to get up from the floor, but it’s no use.  I’m too weak…too tired, and I just want to stay here and wallow in my drunken state of mind for the rest of the night.  But Justin.  Justin, he needs me.  He needs me right now, and I’m just…letting him down.  I’m always letting somebody down.  Right.  And everybody hates me too.  My parents, Madison, Trace…

“Hey you all right?”

I hear a voice, but I know it’s not Justin.  No, it can’t be Justin, because Justin is rambling in my ear about how much he loves me and how much he needs me to sober up so I can get Siobhan on the phone.  Thinking the voice came from above me, I look up and realize that I’m right.  I smile because I’m right.  Maybe I’m sobering up a bit now…I have a sense of direction.

“Kerri are you even there?,” Justin’s voice comes back to me now, and I shake my head roughly.

“No?” The guy who asked me if I was okay is standing over me, smiling slightly.  He knows I’m drunk of course, probably thinks I’m a moron.  But everybody thinks that anyway, so I don’t care.  “Well let me help you up.” He holds out his hand to me, and I somehow manage to grab onto it.  Then he pulls me to my feet, and laughs as I almost fall flat on my face.  “Whoa! Careful!”

“I’m here,” I laugh into the phone.  “I’m here, Justin.”

“You’re scaring the sh'it out of me.” He sounds distraught right now, more distraught that I’ve heard him be in awhile.  I’m messing it all up…everything, and I need to get my act together and get back to the hotel before something really bad happens to him.

“I’m okay,” I try and reassure him, as the mystery man and I make our way across the club and back over to where my friends are sitting.  Funny…I don’t think I’ve ever met this guy before, but for some reason he knows exactly where I came from.  It’s almost scary.  What if he’s a stalker or something?

“Put Siobhan on the phone,” Justin repeats, nearly hysterical this time . “Do it Ker!”

Somehow, I find myself back in my seat, next to Siobhan.  She’s smiling at me, and rubbing my shoulder, giggling something incomprehensible to the guy that’s brought me back.  I don’t’ try to understand, I don’t even care right now.  I thrust the phone in her face.  “Talk,” I mutter, before resting my head against her chest.

I hear her on the phone a minute later, trying to calm Justin down.  She keeps telling him that I’m fine, that no…I’m not a wreck and that no, I don’t really  need to leave.  She says I’m having fun, and that he’s a jerk.  I need to stop her.  He’s going to be so angry with me.  I can’t take that, but I have no more energy right now…

“You need to get back to your hotel,” the warm masculine voice chuckles at me again.  “Don’t you?”

I look at him good and hard this time, and I was right when I said I didn’t know who he was.  I don’t.  All I know that he’s kind of cute, smart looking.  Short, neatly trimmed black hair with blue eyes; accented by a pair of thin reading glasses and a perfect smile that could make a girls heart melt in an instant.  Especially mine.  I giggle.  “My boyfriend is mad at me now,” I tell him stupidly, not lifting my head from Siobhan’s chest.  “I’m drunk.”

He laughs.  “You are pretty drunk.  What do you say I take you where you gotta go?”

“I don’t think I should do that,” I smile at him.  He is cute.  More than cute.  Hot.  Not as hot as my beautiful Justin of course, but hot all the same.  I reach out and touch his face, just to make sure he’s really there.  He is.  That makes me happy.  “You might be dangerous,” I whisper.

“Listen as'shole! You got her into this mess…”

Siobhan is yelling at Justin and that’s a really bad thing.  I reach up and try to take the phone away, but she moves slightly so I just miss it.  Damn it.  “Sio,” I whine.  “Please…”

“Is that your boyfriend?” The man speaks up.

I give him a pathetic nod.  “He’s going to be so mad at me.”

He sighs, and leans over me. “Sio come on, you’re fu'cking stoned…give me the phone.”

“No way! Get the hell out of here Cooper.”

Cooper is a nice name.

I hear a scuffle, and then Cooper is sitting back down again, my phone to his ear.  “She’s okay.  No I didn’t touch her.  Man, you’re a little off huh?” He laughs.  “No, I don’t know who I’m dealing with.  Should I co'ck sucker?”

Uh oh.

“Your boyfriend is a fu'cking prick,” Siobhan mutters in my ear.  “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, running off to save his ass from whatever terrible things were happening to him, K.  He has no respect for anybody.  You know what he said to me? He said I was a ….”

I tune her out because I can’t deal with her opinions right now.  She doesn’t know Justin like I know him, not at all.  Nobody does.  I’m the only one that understands why he’s freaking out right now.  He doesn’t want anything to happen to me.  I’m letting him down…I’m letting everybody down.  “I want to go,” I whimper.  “Sio…”

“I am not bringing you back to his psycho ass, K.  No way.”

“Ten minutes if I speed…” I hear Cooper say loudly.  “God, now you don’t want me to speed…fine.  Okay, just calm down.  I’ll get her back to you man.  Yes, I understand.  No…god, what are you talking about? Hello…hello?”  He pulls the phone away from his ear, stares at it, then starts to laugh.  “Wow.  Never thought I’d have a conversation like that in my lifetime.”

I feel my eyes begin to droop.  “Is he mad?,” I whimper.

“Who cares,” Siobhan says.  “Just stay with me the night.”

“He’s not mad,” Cooper the Hottie reassures me.  “He’s obviously crazy about you, and he just wants to make sure you get back okay.  I told him I’d take you back,” he pauses and chuckles a bit.  “And he didn’t really like that idea, but I know Siobhan won’t take you…so I will.”

Of course Justin wouldn’t want some strange fellow like Cooper the Hottie to take me back.  He’s a guy, and Justin doesn’t even trust guys around himself, let alone his girlfriend.  If I take a ride with him, who knows what could happen?  What if he’s Shane’s long lost brother who’s come back to take revenge on Justin and I? What if he’s an as'shole that rapes people? What if he’s some kind of serial killer? 

“K, do you want to go with Cooper?” I hear Siobhan say.

I don’t really know what the hell I want to do.  I know Justin needs me to go back to the hotel, but I’m not sure if I want to face him right now.  I’m sure he’s upset with me.  He’s a mess, and I’m a mess too.  I wont be able to talk to him like I should, and things will turn into an even bigger mess all too quickly.  What I should really do is take Sio’s advice; just stay with her for the night and go back to Justin in the morning.  But if I do that…I might not have my beautiful Justin to go back to.  And I can’t risk that.  “Yes.” I whisper.

She sighs.  “Are you sure that’s not the alcohol talking?”  She sniffs, and wipes at her nose a little bit. 

“Yes.”

“Come on.”  Cooper helps me up with a polite smile, and I hear him promise our group of friends that he’ll get me back safe, before guiding me to the club’s exit.  He doesn’t let go of me as we make our way to his sleek looking Jaguar, and after yanking opening the passenger door, he gently lowers me into the seat.

 I smile up at him like a fool as he buckles me in.  “You’re nice.”

He chuckles.  “Thanks.  Just don’t puke on the leather, all right?”

“I’ll try hard not to.”

I close my eyes.  A moment later I hear a slam, the car roars to life, and the radio begins to blare softly.  Thankfully I don’t feel sick, and I know I won’t puke all over Coopers expensive leather interior.  That’ s a good thing.  I don’t want him to remember me as ‘that girl who puked in my car’.  Not that it matters what he thinks of me anyway.  It’s not like I’m going to see him ever again.  After tonight, I doubt Justin would allow it. Oh god…he’s going to be such a overprotective ass after tonight, I know it.  He’s not going to want me to go anywhere without him.  He’s going to tell me I drink too much, that I’m messing sh'it up, and then Trace will call and tell me the same thing.  I guess shouldn‘t be complaining.  I mean, I brought this on myself, made Justin worry…and I should have to pay the price, even if it means being treated like a child.  I don’t care.  All that really matters is that Justin isn’t mad…that he still loves me.

“So your boyfriend, is he a big guy?” Cooper asks me, after several minutes of uninterrupted silence. 

I open my eyes and look over at him.  It’s strange, for some reason being around Cooper is making me feel safer than I’ve felt all night.  Like, just being in his car with him is reassuring.  Even though I don’t know him at all, I know he would never let anything happen to me.  He’d fight back if they came and tried to harm me again, I just know he would.  It almost makes me want to get to know him better, ask him where he’s from and how he knows my friends so well…but I know I can’t do that.  I have no place in my life for somebody like him.  Justin wouldn’t be able to tolerate some strange guy come around, trying to be my friend. He doesn’t trust anybody.  Not that I do either, but, I think I have a little more faith in people than he does.  Justin wouldn’t be able to talk to Cooper, because he’s a guy…while I have no problem taking a ride from him.  I guess it’s what makes us different.  I guess we both have our little things that we can and can’t do right now.  “Don’t worry,” I sigh.  “He probably won’t be outside when we pull up.”

“Good.  Because I’d hate to have a black eye before I go home to my folks,” he laughs.  “Fighting isn’t my forte.”

He continues to try and make small talk, probably because he’s nervous, but I don’t really pay attention.  I’m too concerned about getting back to Justin, what he’s going to do and say to me once I walk through that door.  I don’t want to be screamed at, but I’m almost certain that’s what’s going to happen.  Justin is impossible when he’s nervous and upset…I should know.  He’s done so much sh'it to me… it makes me wonder why I take it, why I love him so damn much.  But I know why.  It’s because I’ve always felt this way, worked so hard over the years to get him to love me back.  Now I finally have everything I’ve always wanted, and I’m terrified of losing that…losing him.  So I’ll just go with it, take whatever he wants to dish out, and hope that it all blows over in the end…that we’ll end up kissing and going to bed.  Then we’ll both feel better…I know it.

We pull up to the Ritz Carlton about ten minutes later, and I force myself to sit up so I can see who, if anybody, is waiting for me.  I groan when I see Tiny standing there, a disgruntled, angry expression resting on his face.  He’s angry because I’ve upset Justin.  I try not to care…but I can’t shrug the guilty feeling away.  I know it’s Tiny’s job to look out for Justin and keep him calm, especially now.  He doesn’t have to respect me, or like me or anything like that.  He has to tolerate me for Justin’s sake…but that’s all.  And I know that’s exactly what he does now that this has all happened.  He tolerates me, he doesn’t like me…he wishes I would go home so Justin wouldn’t dwell on the past. 

But I wont leave.  I’m not going anywhere, and I wish things could be like they were before . Tiny used to like me.  We used to talk about a lot of things when I would come around.  But once Justin and I stopped speaking, I lost touch with Tiny too.  I guess he felt that I didn’t care, and I’m sure it’s why I’ve been receiving such an attitude from him since the kidnapping happened.  But I wish things didn’t have to be this way.  I wish he could understand everything that’s happened between Justin and I, understand how much I’ve changed over the years.

But then again, I’m sure he has far more important things to worry about besides me.

“Thanks for the ride,” I tell Cooper, as I quickly unbuckle my seatbelt.  “I um…I know I was acting a little out of it back there.”

“Hey it’s not a problem,” he flashes me another polite smile, before opening his door.  “You just needed a hand.  I wouldn’t have let Siobhan’s stoned ass take you anywhere.”

I shrug.  “Just…thank you,” I tell him again.  I don’t really know what else to say.  This whole thing is awkward, being driven back to my hotel by a guy I don’t know at all.  God, what was I thinking about? If Justin sees him he’ll freak out.  “Bye, Cooper.” I say it quickly and get out of the car even quicker. 

I hear a door slam as I start heading toward the hotel, and whimper a little.  He‘s following me now.  This can‘t be good.

“Hey, at least let me walk you up,” he says, once he catches up with me.  “Wouldn’t want you to fall again,” he laughs.

I know I’m staggering a little bit, and my mind…it’s still a bit clouded from all the alcohol in my system.  But I’m getting there.  I don’t need his help.  I can’t take his help.  “I’m okay,” I tell him.  “Bye, Cooper.”

“I’m not letting you go by yourself,” he says, his expression stern, stubborn.  “You’re still drunk.  Who knows what could happen.”

I want to scream at him to get away from me, but I know that isn’t the best idea right now.  Tiny would think something was really wrong, end up punching Cooper or calling the police.  A bigger mess is something I don’t want or need right now.  And Cooper is innocent…just trying to help out.  It’s not like I don’t appreciate it either…but he just has no idea.  He doesn’t know who I am, who my boyfriend is…and he can’t know, because he just wont understand.  “Please,” I whisper.  “I need you to go, okay?”

His brow furrows slightly.  He’s confused, but that’s only natural.  He opens his mouth to say something…probably to question me about my life, about Justin, about things that I can’t talk about.  But then I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I jump a little bit and whirl around.  It’s Tiny, and for a moment I’m relieved…but the feeling is short lived.

“Who’s this?”  It’s the first thing he says to me.  He looks past me as he says the words, and sends Cooper and menacing glare.

“I was drinking,” I whisper, not meeting the burly mans gaze.  “He drove me.”

“Cooper,” I hear him say, and a moment later he’s beside me, sticking a hand out for Tiny to shake.  “And you are?”

But Tiny doesn’t shake his hand, or acknowledge his question. He only looks at me, obviously pissed off that I‘ve brought more trouble to the scene, and I know it’s not a good thing.  “You and I need to have a talk,” he tells me.

And I nod, because I guess I knew this was going to happen.  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He places a protective grip on my upper arm and starts to lead me away, like I’m some sort of child.  If I wasn’t a weak idiot, I would pull away and tell him where to get off.  But I’m too angry with myself to care what he does to me right now.  I just want to go back upstairs, try to salvage what’s left of my relationship, and hopefully pass out afterwards.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I hear Cooper call out, just as the doorman opens the door for Tiny and I.

“Girl you better get his ass out of your business,” Tiny warns me, releasing me from his grasp. “Justin’s gonna be pissed.”

Like I don’t know that.  I sigh, and turn back to face Cooper again.  “I’m okay,” I say, forcing a positive smile.  “Thanks again for the ride.”

“Are you…”

“Thanks again.”  I rush inside before he can get another word in, and release a long breath when the door closes behind me.  I’m safe again.  Well, as safe as I can be anyway.  But it doesn’t mean that the drama is over.  As it is, I still have to face Justin, and now my head is starting pound…hard.  I’m nauseous too, queasy.  I need a bed and a bucket to puke in.  The room starts to tilt slightly, first to the right then to the left…

“Whoa….whoa.” Tiny catches me moments before I can fall down to the floor and embarrass myself.  For the first time since I got back, I’m actually thankful he’s here.  He’s strong enough to support me as we make our way to the elevator, and I know if he wasn’t here I’d probably be puking all over the lobby carpet right now.

The elevator ride is long and silent.  While I know that Tiny is staring at me, displeased and angry, I can’t even look at him.  No, because if I move my head I’m likely to vomit all over his expensive Armani business suit.  So I force myself to stand flat against the back wall of the elevator, never more thankful for the ding and the opening of the doors when we reach our floor.  Tiny holds onto me again of course, as we make our way down the seemingly endless hallway, and back to the room Justin and I have been sharing.  I see Eric stationed in his usual spot by the door, but I barely notice if he looks at me funny as Tiny pulls out his spare key and slides it through the reader.  Then the door opens…I feel the cool burst of air conditioning hit me right in the face…and it feels absolutely wonderful…

“Sh'it, Tiny.”

I’m pretty sure it’s Justin’s voice, and because of this, my knees turn to jelly and I find that I can’t take another step on my own.  I hope that Tiny will drag me the rest of the way, but that doesn’t happen and before I know what’s happening, I’m falling.  I’m falling fast, hard, right to the floor.  I hold my breath as I wait for my body to collide forcefully with the hard wood but it never happens.  I feel somebody grab me just in time…I smell that rustic sweet smelling cologne of his.  “Justin,” I mumble and smile stupidly.  “I love you.”

“I know,” I hear him say.

Then I’m asleep.

And now Johnny is pissed. His face is red as he screams into his cell phone, and if he doesn’t calm down soon I’m afraid that he might have a stroke or a heart attack. I couldn’t take that. It would be all my fault, and my mom(who has been standing beside me watching Johnny’s tantrum for an hour now) will hate me. I wish I knew what to say to make things right again…or to calm him down at least. But I don’t know what to say. All he wants is for Kerri to get down here so she can tell him why it is that she decided not to show up for work the last week. Then he can scream at her. And I feel bad about that too. I don’t want anybody to scream at Kerri…

But really, it’s her own fault. Because I didn’t even do anything wrong.

From what I understand, she’s been with Trace all this time. Elisha brought my car back to me the same day Kerri took off in it, and told me what was going on. Really, I couldn’t blame her for running to Trace, and I wasn’t’ mad about it at all. I figured she needed at least a day to cool down, and that was okay because I knew I didn’t have a show until the day after that. It was only when the next day came and she didn’t call…then I started to get agitated. I figured she would have been a little bit concerned about me at least. Or…I figured Trace might have pulled his head out of his ass and realized that yes…there was still business that needed to be handled. I thought he would have been mature enough to push our problems to the side and give me a call. But neither of them called, and for the first time in a long long time…I felt so fucking alone. Yeah, alone and confused in my big ass house with nobody to calm me down. Of course I cried, of course I threw up…but this time I didn’t allow myself to shut the rest of the world away.

I knew Cameron was supposed to meet me the next day for brunch, but I decided I didn’t want to wait that long. I knew she was in town staying with her sister, so I called her up around nine, and she seemed anxious to see me. I didn’t really tell her what was going on with me, or how mad I was at my friends. I didn’t want to put her smack in the middle of all that drama. So, I just told her that Kerri had gone out for the night with a friend, and that I wanted to see her. It didn’t take her more than twenty minutes to get to my house, and it made me feel good to know that somebody still cared…that I wasn’t a bastard in her eyes. We sat on the couch and talked for a while…mostly about normal stuff at first. She told me about all the new projects she was about to take on, and I told her how I was going to take on Europe in a few months. She seemed concerned when I told her that, and of course I knew why. The idea of me going to Europe right now is crazy to her…she doesn’t think I can handle such a big trip after I’ve been through so much. And hell, part of me wants to agree with her…but I won’t. I guess I view going to Europe as an outs for me. I can hide from my past. I can get away, I can forget myself. I’ll shop, go clubbing, and have more fun than I’ve had in a long ass time. By that time I wont have to take such heavy doses of medication either, so that means I can start drinking again. Of course I know it’s not the best idea…to drink. Kerri is a prime example of this. But I think I can control myself…I’m a lot stronger than she is.

Kerri is a stupid bitch.

I told that to Cameron too, well…not putting it as bluntly of course, but I made sure I got my point across. After all, I had to cover my own ass…make sure she didn’t think I was the psychotic one who forced Kerri to leave. I told her we’d been having a lot of problems, that she was an emotional mess and I couldn’t take it anymore. She seemed to understand, but of course she would have. She doesn’t know Kerri, she’s never even met the girl, but she knows me and so…of course she’s going to go by what I say…what I tell her. I probably shouldn’t have talked Kerri down like I did, made her into the bad person…but I was scared. She wasn’t here and I didn’t know how else to explain it to Cameron. I mean, she’d just come back to see how I was doing, and I didn’t want her to think I was still a freak. I…I didn’t want her to be scared of me, like she was the last time. I never want her to think that I’m a bad, horrible person again. So I guess it’s why I lied. I know it was wrong, but I feel better knowing that she views me as the Justin she’s always known…

At least for the moment.

“You have a hell of a nerve,” I hear Johnny grunt. At first I think he’s talking to me, that he’s found out Kerri’s disappearing act is really all my fault. But when I look up to give him a stupid explanation, I realize that it’s not me he’s talking to at all. No, because Kerri is here now. She’s standing before us with a clipboard in her hand and a tired expression on her face. She wont look at me, and of course I know why. She’s scared…she’s scared of everything and everybody in this room. She’s scared of Johnny, she’s scared of Eric, and she’s especially scared of me and my mother. Part of me wants to comfort her, but I won’t. No I won’t…because it’s not my fault…all of this. I just need to let her be reprimanded. She needs to realize that this is a job, and with a job comes responsibility…

Wait. When did I become such an asshole?

“I’m sorry,” she tells him, making sure to shoot me a cold glance. “Things happened and I needed to get away…”

“That’s no excuse!” Johnny hollers. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through the last week? Justin‘s been late for appointments…disappointed the label! Are you trying to ruin his image?”

“I…” She looks to me for guidance now. To stick up for her. To tell Johnny we’ve been having issues and that she was upset. But I don’t say anything. I barely look her in the eye…because I can’t. I’m too angry, and I have too much pride to stick up for her right now. I mean, she’s the one that left. She’s the one who made me feel so alone after I threw her a party and tried to fix things. So it serves her right…she deserves this.

“We’re very disappointed, Kerrigan,” my mother speaks up after a few moments. “We’ve been relying on you to help Justin, and turning your back on him without a word to any of us was very irresponsible.”

“Oh okay,” Kerri whispers. “So it doesn’t matter that I felt like shit, right Lynn? It’s always about Justin…because you know, he was the only one who got hurt in that place.”

The silence that follows her little outburst is deafening, and I really wish I was alone with her right now so I could put her in her place. But we’re not alone, not at all…and all I can do is stare at her and try to let her know how ridiculous she’s acting right now.

“Nobody is saying you didn’t get hurt,” my mother says. “That’s not what this conversation is about, and you know that, Kerri. I’ve always told you that you can come to me with your problems, and I’ve expected you to do that. Running off wasn’t the solution and now… I really don’t know if I want you helping Justin anymore.”

“Oh that’s fine!” she yells. “Because I quit!” She throws down her clipboard and glares at me for a few moments, her bottom lip trembling…her eyes glazed over. She’s waiting for me to say something now, anything. I think it would reassure her. But of course, I keep my mouth shut. “That’s right,” she whimpers. “Just stand there and stare at me Justin…go ahead! Because none of this is your fault…you’re never the one to blame!”

She’s pissing me off and I feel like wringing her neck, but I know that’s definitely not the solution. But I am ready to say something to her, to tell her off…to make her feel like shit. And I almost do, but then Eric grabs her by the arms and tells her that it’s time to go. She starts freaking out of course, telling him to get his hands off of her. I don’t know what to do. I can tell she’s scared, her eyes are wide like she’s…back there.

“Let me go!” she wails. “Please!”

Of course Eric doesn’t listen, and a moment later she lets out a blood curdling scream that causes me to think back to that night…that night out by the Oldsmobile when Shane pushed her to the ground and would have shot her right there if I hadn’t decided to bargain with him. Suddenly I realize how wrong I’ve been…that Kerri isn’t the horrible person I’ve acted like she is these past couple of days. I set her off, I made her run away, and then…I acted like it was all her fault. I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking. I don’t know who the hell I think I am. I yell out for Eric to let her go…that I’ll handle it. But he doesn’t seem to hear me. He drags Kerri out the door, and in a flash…they’re both gone.

Damn it.

I don’t know what I’ve done. I don’t know anything right now, and I probably wont know anything ever again. What’s happened to me? What’s happened to my friendship with Kerri? Kerri the girl who I used to rely on for everything and anything. The girl I used to dream about, the girl who I used to miss like crazy when I was on the road and I had nobody else around me but superficial sluts? I…I loved her. Not like, in love where I needed her in a sexual way. I just loved her like a sister, because she was always there and she never judged me and she didn’t care what the press or the other people around me had to say about me. She wanted me around because I was Justin, her Justin. And then I ruined it because I was curious…

And now I’ve ruined it because I’m a paranoid, insecure asshole.

“Justin, are you listening to me?”

I realize I’m in a daze, and I snap out of it in time to see Johnny and my mother staring at me with concern. They want answers. They want to know why Kerri flipped out like she did. But really, it’s none of their damn business. It’s nobodies fucking business…what goes on with Kerri and I. And frankly, I’m getting sick and fucking tired of having to explain ourselves to every person that asks. “Cancel the show,” I hear myself blurt out.

Johnny laughs nervously. “Justin, come on now, you can’t do that.”

“I said cancel it.” I grunt, and storm over to the door.

“Justin!” My mother calls out to me. “You can’t cancel this close to show time.”

I don’t look back at her as I throw the door open. “I’m sorry, momma.” And I walk out, not caring about Johnny’s threatening tone or my mothers worried one. I can’t think about any of that right now…I just need to get out, get away…

“God, Justin…what’s the matter?”

I nearly run smack into Cameron, but I’ve never been more thankful. I quickly grab her hand and start to lead her down the hallway, before she can start asking me why I look like a train wreck. “Get me out of here.”

“What?”

She’s confused, and it’s understandable, but I have no time to explain myself to her. The longer I linger, the better the chance of Tiny or Eric forcing me back into my dressing room. And I can’t go onstage tonight. There’s no way in hell. “Just get me the fuck out of here before I do something regrettable, Cameron.”

“O-okay…” She shoots me another confused glance, but doesn’t ask me any other questions. She just grips my hand tighter as we race down the hallway and out to the back of the venue. Thankfully, nobody that matters sees us as we sneak out the back entrance and into my BMW. I jump into the drivers seat and Cameron quickly slides in next to me, and finally I’m able to speed away….to get away. For the first few minutes I’m relieved…I don’t have to answer questions or put on my usual fake personality for anybody. I can just be myself for the rest of the evening, because Cameron…she understands me. But then I remember exactly who it is that I’m really running away from. Kerri. I’m running away from her again, just like I did three years ago, just like I did…after everything happened.

Why am I afraid of her?

“Justin.”

Her voice is soft, soothing the stress enveloping my mind. I glance over at her quickly, and I can tell she’s beyond worried. I can see it in her eyes, she’s afraid for me. She knows how I can be when I’ve gone over the edge and she doesn’t know what to do for me. Damn, I thought seeing her again was supposed to be a positive experience, but instead it’s a repeat of everything we went through before she left me. Suddenly I wish I could have controlled myself, told her I wasn’t ready to see her yet. That I had to work things out with Kerri first. But I was selfish…I thought this would help things, but all it did was cause everything to blow up in my face. “Yeah.”

“What happened back there?”

I should tell her everything. The truth, that I’m a bastard, and that I’ve lost the trust of my two best friends. But I just can’t do that. I feel like shit as it is, and right now…I think Cameron is the only one who still believes that I’m a good person. I can’t ruin it…I just can’t. “I got nervous.”

She lets out a disgruntled sigh. “You never walk away from a show.”

“Well fuck, Cam. I’m not the same person,” I snap.

The silence that follows is horrible. She knows I’m still fucked up, she knows I still need help…lots of it, and there’s no way she’s going to be able to trust me now that I’ve shown her my…temper. God, I can’t keep anything straight anymore. Everybody hates me. My friends have all turned their backs on me. I’m a monster, a freak, a moron…and I should just be locked away where I can’t hurt anybody anymore.

“Look,” she finally says to me. “I know you’re not, okay? I…I only came out to see you because I needed some closure. The way we left each other was just…wrong. You were in pain and I was afraid, and I ran away. And Justin, running away doesn’t solve anything. I really thought you might have changed too, I guess. I mean, God, I don’t know what made me think you might have completely recovered from everything so fast. I guess…I’ve always known you to be strong, J. You always…you know, you were always able to let things roll off your shoulders. Now it’s just like…you’re just this shell of a person.”

The things she’s telling me aren’t news to me. I know how I am, how I act…and what I do. I don’t know why she has to sit here and rub it all in my face. Does it make her feel good? Better than me? Is she secretly laughing at me inside…because I’m a weak piece of shit? I feel my hands grip the steering wheel tighter as the tension and anger build up inside of me. She’s really fucking pissing me off right now, and I wish I could just make her disappear or something. I wish I could let her feel my pain, just for a moment or two. Just so she can know what it’s really like to live the way I do…every day.

But then again, she’s already been there. Already been hurt by me…so bad. Jesus Christ, how can I be thinking this way? Why would I want to cause Cameron more pain? I mean, she’s just trying to help…but I guess I have no patience for her right now. I can’t stand to hear her tell me the truth about myself. I can’t stand that…she still doesn’t know what really happened to me and so…she can’t fully understand why I act the way I do. I could tell her, I know I could; but right now, I’m too stressed out and upset to handle the consequences. “Cam, I…”

“What the hell did they do to you, Justin?,” she spits. “I mean, Christ…it’s been fucking three months. Do you still think you have to hide from me? I know something happened to you…”

With the frustration becoming too much to bear, I slam on the breaks. Cameron screams at me to ‘slow the fuck down, before we get killed!’, and thankfully, I manage to pull the car to the side of the road without flipping over the guard rail. I breath in and out, trying to catch my breath for several moments before I finally look over at her. She’s got her arms wrapped around her tiny body, and she’s whimpering just slightly. Cameron hates to let people see her weak side.

“Fuck, Justin!” she screams. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, and lean my head against the steering wheel. “You pissed me off.”

“I always piss you off,” she mutters. “That’s why I left in the first place.”

I don’t lift my head to look at her. “You left because I couldn’t’ handle what happened to me. I-I still can’t handle it Cameron…but, something inside of me forces me to get up everyday and face the world. Do you even know how hard that is?,” I pause and sigh, before shifting my head a little to look at her. She’s curled up in her seat now, her index finger covering the top of her lip. She’s thinking…trying to figure out something to say or do to make everything okay. That’s how she is, it’s what she’s always done…for me, even when I was being entirely too impossible to deal with.

“How can I know?,” she whispers. “I was the last person you came to with your problems Justin. Hell…” she pauses and let’s out a sad laugh. “I still am.”

“I was trying to protect you from…all of that,” I say, and bite down on the corner of my lip. “I loved you Cameron…I never stopped. But I hurt you and, I know you had to get away from me before I drove you out of your mind.” I slowly look up at her, and deep into her eyes. I can see that hurt…that pain that I made her feel that night in Hawaii. It’s still with her, and as she continues to look at me, I know it’s only getting worse. Maybe I should push her away, tell her to just…leave me alone…

But I really, really don’t want to be alone.

She doesn’t start yelling at me again though, instead…she takes one of my hands in hers and lets out a deep sigh, before pulling me into a long, caring embrace. To say I’m shocked is an understatement. I don’t deserve her…any part of her right now, or ever again. I don’t understand why she feels compelled to soothe me or feel sorry for me. I haven’t done anything to make her feel this way. I’ve just…been using her, like I’ve been using everybody in my life…for months now. Despite all I feel though, I won’t let go of her. It’s comforting me…calming me down, and I know I need to be calm right now. Because tonight…I’m sure I’m going to be all alone in my house. And I have no idea when that’s going to change, if Kerri will ever confront me about what happened tonight, or if she‘ll even speak to me again. Hell, I’m sure Trace wont have a problem talking her out of it. In fact, I’m sure he’s the one I’ll have to deal with if I try to confront Kerri about this whole thing. I know he still wants to keep some distance between us. When I shut him away at the party, I know it hurt him…and in a way, I think it was the last straw for him. He wants nothing to do with me, and while that hurts me more than he’ll ever know…I just can’t put it at the top of my priority list right now.

“It was horrible, Cam,” I whisper as she continues to hold me in her arms. “I couldn’t tell anybody about it, and…I cut myself because…”

“Shh,” she silences me, and finally draws back to look into my eyes again. She shakes her head a little bit, and I can see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. “I…I know you went through a nightmare,” she whispers. “And I guess a part of me has always known…what they did to you, Justin.” She nods and looks down at her lap. “But I couldn’t just ask you. I didn’t know what it would do to you.”

Just knowing that she always sort of understood about Shane, without me confessing anything to her, puts my mind at ease. I manage a slight smile, and I cup her cheek in my palm. It feels so good to touch her again. So good in fact, that I start to forget about the girl I got dumped by only a week ago. “Cameron…”

“I used to sit in bed at night and watch you while you slept,” she confesses softly, and touches the hand that’s resting on her cheek. “And I would try to figure out a way to get you to open up to me more. But…” she pauses and shakes her head. “I guess I always knew that you weren’t going to, and that really hurt me…”

“Cam,” I interrupt. “I never meant to…”

“But I don’t hold it against you. I never did, Justin,” she blurts out. “The only thing I wanted…was for you to get better, and I guess…everything that happened between us was the only way for you to do that.” She shrugs a little, and I know all of this is making her really uneasy. But I also know that Cameron is strong, she can handle herself, and she’s going to make it through this conversation without breaking down. That’s a good thing, because it will be able to keep me calm too. If things were different, if this was me and Kerri, hell…I probably would have done something really, really stupid by now.

Fuck, but Kerri isn’t here. Cam is here, and hell…its obvious she still cares about me. It’s obvious she didn’t come all this way to simply blow me off or tell me I’m horrible. So maybe I can just forget about fucking Kerri, and my asshole of a best friend, and my nosy manager…and my mess of a mother. Maybe I can just push them all to the back of my mind for now, and just focus on her…

Because I think…I think I could still care about her too.

“Let’s run away,” I whisper desperately, and bury my face in her shoulder. “Let’s just get away.”

“Justin,” she sighs after a moment. “What will that solve?”

“Everything.”

Then…silence. I manage to smile into her because I know she’s considering this. Hell, I’m sure she wants to be alone with me for as long as possible. I know she’s missed me, and now I’m starting to realize that I’ve missed her a hell of a lot more than I thought. This…this is me. Being with her…it’s who I was before this all happened. It’s who I was after I stopped speaking to Kerri. It’s who I was when I introduced Trace to Elisha, and we both had deep relationships and were just…chill. It’s who I always thought I was going to be for the rest of my life until Shane came and fucked everything all up. So if this is who I used to be…if this is who I’m trying to become, who says I shouldn’t just go somewhere with Cameron and try to change myself back again? Fuck, I want to do it…

But does she?

“People will be mad…,” she says, hesitantly.

I sit up and hold her face in my hands. “Who cares about them?” I shake my head roughly. “This is my life Cameron. Mine. And right now, I just want to share it with you…”

She pulls away roughly. “What about Kerri, Justin?”

I stare at her. She’s the last person I’d expect to care about Kerri right now. I mean, she doesn’t even know Kerri, she’s never met her, or had a conversation with her. So I don’t get it. I mean, I know she cares about me so I don’t see why she’d want me to consider my ex girlfriend’s feelings right now. Well okay, maybe I am leaving out the fact that I’ve known Kerri my whole life, and we…went through that together. But my mind is so clouded, I can’t dwell on any of that right now. Or maybe, I just don’t want to. “What about her?,” I whisper.

She narrows her eyes. “Are you running away from her?,” she asks me, her voice full of concern.

I turn away from her and look straight ahead. “I’m running away from a lot of things, Cameron.”

“I don’t think it’s going to solve your problems, Justin. You need to consider her feelings too.”

I look back at her, dumbfounded. I cant’ understand why she isn’t on my side right now, because she was just a minute ago. “Cam…look, this isn’t about fucking Kerri!,” I say, angrily. “She…she has her own way out of this whole thing. She has answers, she has people around to help her…”

“But so do you!,” she interrupts. “You have so many people that are willing to care about you and help you Justin. You always have, but you just…you shut everybody out. You haven’t changed at all, even though you try to make everybody think that you have. I…I can’t do this again Justin. I can’ t go through this with you again.”

She’s got that fed up expression on her face now. The one she used to get when she wanted to fool around and I would tell her I was tired. She’s disappointed in me, she’s thinks I’m a loser…just like everybody else does. It makes me want to cry, and as much as I don’t want to I just can’t help myself. I cover my face with my hands and start to bawl like the little pussy that I am. Part of me expects her to comfort me, but when she doesn’t I know she thinks I’m being ridiculous. I try to get myself together…but I’m such a mess, everything has fallen apart in the matter of a few hours and really, I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over it. I guess they should just throw me back in the insane asylum…because I think it’s where I really belong…

At least Madison would get it.

“Let me take you home.” I hear her whisper the words after a significant amount of time has passed, and then I hear a door slam. A moment later I feel somebody pull me out of the car and walk me around to the other side. I’m made to sit down, I’m buckled in like a baby…a door slams, then another. She’s driving now, driving me home like a little child. And all I can do is sit here and let the rest of my sanity fade away. It’s sometime during the ride that I realize I’ve let him win again. I don’t have control anymore…it’s just as before. He laughs at me…tells me he knew I’d let him win in the end.

And of course, I don’t tell him that he‘s wrong.

Because he‘s not.

*****************

Trace told me he’d get the rest of my stuff out of Justin’s house for me, but I don’t know, I guess I felt like if I had Trace do it I wouldn’t feel like I’d handled the situation on my own. I know Trace means well, and he’s really really upset with Justin for not sticking up for me at the venue, but I also know that I need to be independent. I need to get through this on my own, without the help of Trace or anybody else. It’s why I’m here in his house alone, packing my bags and trying not to cry. But I can’t say I’m having an easy time controlling myself. I’ve been a wreck since I was ‘escorted’ out of the venue by Eric earlier this evening. It embarrassed the hell out of me too, because he threw me out in front of the line of people waiting to get into the place. Since most of them know who I am, their shocked glances and hurried whispers didn’t come as a big surprise to me. But I know tomorrows tabloids are going to be filled with the story of Kerri the Psycho trying to turn Justin’s world upside down all over again. I don’t understand how Justin could have put me in this position, after all I’ve done for him up until now. Granted, we’re having a lot of problems, but I figured he was going to be professional when I showed up to do my job. When Johnny was yelling at me, I’d been waiting for Justin to say something in my defense…or to at least tell him that it wasn’t the time for arguments, that there was a show to do. But no, he just stood there…Lynn at his side, acting like I was the most irresponsible, uncaring person in the world.

I don’t think anybody should blame me for flipping out.

I probably should have waited until tomorrow or the next day to do this…to move on, Trace even told me that I should, but since when do I listen to him? Part of me even feels bad about rushing it, abandoning Justin without a second thought for his well being. I know all that attitude and ignorance he put on the venue was simply a big act to show off in front of Johnny and his people. Deep inside, I’m sure it killed him to treat me that way. Or maybe…I’m just hoping that’s how he felt. If that’s the case, it means he still needs me. That all of this…the relationship we have, it doesn’t’ have to end. But then my common sense kicks back in and tells me Trace is right, that Justin is fucked up, and he’s entirely too confused to still care about me or want to love me. I mean, that is…if he even loved me to begin with. But that’s the very question that made me want to end it with him in the first place, so I guess it’s stupid for me to think about it anymore. What’s done is done, and I know that I can’t go back and change any of it.

I slam my suitcase shut.

I go to the closet, and practically tear it apart. I throw everything I own on the floor and proceed to shove it into my duffle bag. I come across some clothes Justin bought for me…I want to burn them. I would too, but I have nothing to burn them with. So, I just throw them into the wastebasket next to my nightstand and forget about them. Right, just forget about them…forget about him. He’ll only bring me down, and I need to just…get that through my fucking head.

I jump at the sound, and quickly whirl around. I look at my luggage, hoping something might have fallen over, but it’s still perfectly in place. I freeze. Somebody is here, and Christ, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know who it was. Justin’s home. Justin’s home and I really don’t want to deal with him right now. The reason I rushed over here was so I could avoid him. I figured he’d be performing right now, but I guess I’m just naïve. It should have been obvious to me that he’d be too stressed out to go onstage tonight after things happened like they did. I could kick myself for not listening to Trace…for not waiting…for…

I let out a frightened whimper and back up against the wall. He’s angry, angry and…well, I don’t really know what else. All I know is that he’s bad right now, really bad…and when he sees me here, I have no doubt in my mind that things will get worse. But I can’t run out of here, I can’t move, I’m paralyzed with fear. I know what can happen when Justin is in a rage, and I really…I really don’t want to face that. So, I sink down to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees, forcing myself to be silent, to hardly breathe. And I pray that he doesn’t find me. In the silence, I can hear him downstairs. He’s stumbling around, and I can hear things crashing and falling over around from time to time. He yells jumbled obscenities every few minutes, and I know…he’s lost it. I don’t know if it’s solely because of me, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m still involved…and I know if I had decided not to come home for my parents anniversary a few months back I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now. I’d be in New York, in school…I’d be normal. Sure I’d still miss Justin, but I’d basically be over it.

But curiosity had gotten the best of me then. Sure, of course I wanted to go home and see my family, but I can’t say I didn’t know Justin would be there. It had been three years, and I can’t say I wasn’t’ curious to see what had become of him. The tabloids hadn’t told me anything about him or his life, because we all know that’s all fake anyway. Trace was the one who kept me informed, but it was hard seeing Justin through his perspective. I guess I couldn’t admit it to myself in the beginning. I didn’t hate him, I was fucking…anxious as hell to see him again, and it’s a big part of the reason I decided to come home. And I’ve considered this, thought about it…and I’m convinced that God allowed that horrible thing to happen to us because of I was selfish…because I couldn’t get over myself. I ruined everything, I did it…it’s my fault.

Everything is my fault.

I hear footsteps on the stairs, heavy, loud…outraged. I can’t move, all I can do is sit here…the door wide open, knowing he’s going to find me.

And he does.

“You.”

I look up slowly, cowering in my spot on the floor. “I’m leaving…” I whisper. I look him up and down. He’s got a bottle of something in his hand, and it scares the hell out of me. This isn’t Justin. Justin gave up drinking, he gave up everything to make himself better…to make me better. But this…this isn’t that guy. Something has taken him over, and as I look into his eyes, I can see that it’s something horrible, something evil. Something that wants to do away with me.

“You…” He staggers over to me. “You fucking bitch.”

I pull my knees closer to my chest, and look away from him. “Justin…please calm down.” I hear a crash a few feet away from me a moment later, and I know it’s the bottle he was holding. A loud shriek escapes me, I start to sob…but he has no remorse for me at the moment. The next thing I know, he’s grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt, and he’s shaking me…he’s shaking me so hard. I whimper and beg him to stop, but all he does is shout a bunch of incomprehensible obscenities in my face. I realize he’s drunk and he doesn’t care what happens to me…and I’m fucking terrified. I know I have to get away. I start to struggle…I scream for him to get off of me. But he doesn’t stop. Instead he screams in my face…he tells me he wishes I’d died that day by the ditch, that Shane should have gotten his way. And that hurts me so bad that I couldn’t care less about how fucked up he is or how much pain he’s in. I punch him in the face and he falls to the ground, crying out in pain. Then I take my chance and run away…I’m almost to the door, I’m almost out…but then…

“Don’t you fucking run away from me!”

I’m grabbed around the waist and thrown against the wall. My entire body is throbbing, and I go numb with fear…but I can still feel myself crying. I’m freaking out, I’m begging him to get away from me…but he’s enraged. I scream as he picks up a picture frame off the nightstand. I know what the picture is. It’s us…all three of us. Trace, Justin, and me. We were so young then…just sixteen, and having the time of our lives. We were close, nothing could come between us, and he throws it at me like none of it ever mattered to him. I scream and duck, before it can collide with my face. I hear it crash…the glass flies through the air, and I shield my head and face with my arms. My mind wants me to scream, but find that I can’t do it. The only thing I can do, is cower before him and start to cry when he towers over me again. He raises his hand to me, and I flinch…and then he slaps me. I stare up at him in shock, and when he slaps me again I cry out for him to stop. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going…keeps hitting me, keeps yelling at me…

“You’re so stupid! Look what you did Kerri! Look what you did to me!”

I think I tell him I’m sorry, but I don’t really know. I don’t know anything right now. I…he’s a monster…he’s going kill me…

“I let him do that to me…because of you! He held me down! He raped me! I did that for you Kerri! I did that for you, and what do I get?”

Slap.

“Nothing!”

Slap.

“You stupid bitch!”

Slap.

I can feel the blood running down my face, and I’m crying so hard that I can’t tell how much pain he‘s inflicted. I just want him to stop, but he fucking won’t stop. He tells me he hates me, then he hits me some more, starts to kick me…in the stomach, in the legs…everywhere. I try to fight back the best I can. I lash out and try to hit him, and I get a few good shots at his face but it doesn’t seem to phase him. He can’t feel any pain right now, he’s been numbed by his rage. I’ve curled myself into a ball now, but he quickly pries me out of it and pins me against the wall.

“Justin…pleas-se. Please Justin…please stop,” I sob pathetically. I feel like I’m back there for Christ’s sake. Back there and Shane is in front of me, telling me to behave and lay in the shed like a good girl. After awhile I even see it, see him…and I scream. I scream at him to let me go, to please not kill me. And then, something happens…something I didn’t think was going to happen until it was too late. Justin’s eyes widen, he takes his hands off of me and leans back. He stares at me, as if he’s seeing me for the first time. As if…he had no idea what he was doing. It reminds me of the last time, when he slapped me. Only then, he snapped out of his rage a hell of a lot quicker. Granted, I’m sure he’s drunk but…Jesus Christ…I can’t believe I’m analyzing this right now.

Fucking Christ. He just beat me up.

We sit in the middle of the room, staring at each other for what seems like forever. My head starts to pound, and when I look down and see the blood stains on my jeans and the carpet, I nearly vomit at the thought that Justin is the cause of it. Then I look at him again. He’s still in shock, and I can tell he’s about to lose it…

Then he does.

He curls into a ball on the floor and he cries…he cries like the time I was seven and he pushed me out of that tree in the front yard. I’d been rushed to the ER and I distinctly remember hearing a woman crying as they were hauling me into the X Ray room. She was crying so bad…like a some kind of raving lunatic. Later, after they’d put the cast on my arm, I remember asking my doctor why it was that the woman in the hall had been crying so bad. At fist he’d been hesitant, but then he’d sighed and told me the lady had lost her daughter that day. She’d been in a car accident and hadn’t had much of a chance. I always told myself that nothing horrible like that would ever happen to me…that I had it too good. That everything in my life would always been happy, fun and upbeat. But right now…I feel like I’m right back there…in that ICU, and Justin is the one who’s lost somebody.

And in a way he has.

I don’t realize that I’m standing over him, until I hear him ask for my help. I look down, and all I can think about is how weak he is, how selfish he is…how much pain he’s caused me, caused Trace…caused everybody. “You bastard,” I hear the words slip out of my mouth, but I have no regrets. “How could you do this to me?” My voice cracks with every word, and I know I’m still crying…but I can’t feel it. All I can do is look down upon him, without one ounce of sympathy for him. He doesn’t deserve to be felt sorry for. I don’t care if he was raped, I don’t care if Shane fucked with his head.

I was there too. I suffered too.

“Please…” He reaches out for me. “I didn’t know! K-Kerrigan!”

“I suffered too damn it!” I scream at him so loudly that my head starts to pound even harder, and I begin to feel the full effects of what he’s done to me. My entire face is throbbing, and when I lick my lips I can feel how swelled up they‘ve become. My left eye hurts, I know it’s going to turn black and blue, and my back and legs ache from him kicking me and throwing me around. “I suffered too!” I look around for something to throw, and then my eyes land on the glass frame he broke. I feel like cutting him…slicing him open like he used to do on his own. What would it matter? He deserves to be in pain…like I am. I reach out for it…I almost pick it up, but then I hear him cry again. That horrible sounding cry…

And I know I can’t hurt him like that. I need to just get out…get away. Trace…Trace will help me…

So I run. I run out the door, leaving my belongings behind. Justin starts to freak out. I hear him scream my name, that he’s sorry, that he didn’t know…he swears to God he didn’t know. I keep going, keep running, I can’t listen…I don’t want to. But then…I hear him getting sick. I know he’s vomiting all over the place. And I know I’m crazy, I know I’m going insane, but it makes me stop and think. I…I feel…I feel bad. I…he needs me. Despite the fact that he just beat the shit out of me, he needs me to help him. I should turn back…

I hold my hands over my ears. No, I wont let Nathan do this…I wont. Get out. Get out. You have to get out. I run further, down the stairs…through the living room. I swing the door open, and stand there, trying to catch my breath. I find that it’s impossible though. I’m hyperventilating. I can’t calm down. But I need to get away. I stagger out into the driveway, and manage to make it over to Trace’s SUV. I get in, and sit there. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I’m terrified of what Trace will do once he sees what Justin has done, and even more terrified of what Justin will do to Trace when they confront each other. My God…I’ve just made it all worse.

Why do I always make things worse?

The rain starts to fall, lightly at first but then it picks up. I hear it beating harshly on the roof of the car, and it reminds me of Justin’s rage. It’s trying to send me a message, I think. It’s telling me that I can’t escape the madness no matter what I do. I can sit here, drive home…none of it matters. All of this, it’s going to stay with me for the rest of my life…and I can’t do anything about it. Nothing at all. I’m helpless. I’m always going to be helpless little Kerri Donovan, no matter what I do.

I’m a failure.

I’m a failure but I start the car anyway. The destination? I don’t really know…but I do know that the blood from my face is dripping all over me. I need to go…need to go…need to escape. Save myself. Save yourself or die Kerri…

Sometime later I hit the parkway. The cars are so fast, nearly invisible in the heavy rainfall. Still, I don’t slow down. What’s the reason? Speed is good. Makes me feel free, like I’m on top of the world. And I’m never on top of the world. The windshield wipers aren’t helping much to clear the water from the windshield, and really…I should probably slow down or pull over or something. But I don’t want to stop. Stopping will make me think, and I don’t want to think. I don’t want to remember…

The blaring of the horn is loud, and I’m blinded by the glare of the headlights. I can’t see what’s going on, and I think I’m pulling the car in the right direction…but then, I’m spinning…around and around and around. There are horns and skidding sounds and…

I should have been there

I should have been there lots of times. Times when I knew in my heart Kerri was having problems, but I was too chicken, or too caught up in Justin’s shit to take the time to go and see her. It wasn’t just those three years that she wasn’t around either. It was before that. When I’d be away on tour with Justin and she’d be back home…alone, and I knew she didn’t have a fucking person in her life that could understand her. I should have been there. I should have been there because I knew I cared about her. I knew…I mean, I guess I knew I’d always loved her. It was just really hard for me to admit it to myself when I knew she was in love with Justin. Like, I know the guy is my best friend, but when it came to Kerri Donovan, that didn’t matter. I wanted to be the guy she talked about, the guy she cared about. But of course, I’d never been able to outshine Justin. It didn’t matter if I had the better personality, or if I knew I would never treat her like shit or go behind her back or promise her things and not follow through with them. It didn’t matter that I knew Justin was all wrong for her, that he had too much going on to give her the kind of relationship she wanted. None of it mattered, and I couldn’t express my feelings to the girl either…because she would have bitched me out.

But more importantly, I should have been there for her last night when she went back to Justin’s. I told her I wanted to go with her, but she insisted that she could do it herself. And I let her go by herself, because I figured it would make her happy, and of course that’s all I’ve ever wanted since the kidnapping went down anyway…for her to get out of this rut she’s been stuck in and be happy for awhile. I guess if I knew she was going to wind up like this, I would have made her take me with her. But hell, I’m not a psychic. I didn’t know she was going to….lose control, flip my car over the guard rail and wind up in intensive fucking care…

I should have fucking been there for her. It should have been me that got hurt. Not her, not now…not after everything else she’s put been put through.

I’ve been sitting in this same spot for a little over ten hours now, and I’m starting to feel it. My neck and back hurt from sitting in this stiff chair for so long, and my eyes are stinging from lack of sleep. I feel almost as bad as I did when Kerri and Justin were being held for ransom…almost as bad as that, except I haven’t been throwing up and I haven’t been sitting in the corner of the room bawling like a fucking baby. I think I’m stronger than that now. Or maybe I’ve just come to accept catastrophe and uncertainty as a part of my normal lifestyle. Because the drama didn’t just end for me after my friends were returned home safe. Oh hell no. Since then, everything else has seemed to blow up in my face. I held the Shane thing back for awhile because I figured I could. I tried to believe it wasn’t’ as big of a deal as I thought it was, and that I would get over it and nobody would have to know. But I realized I was wrong when I found that paper work…when I realized I’d signed it. When I realized that I could have prevented the whole fucking thing. It just hurt so bad, and I knew that Justin was still suffering, but I just…I needed to get it out. So I told him and after that, it was like we weren’t even friends anymore. I was distant from him and he was distant from me. And I would have been okay with that for awhile, really I would have…but then I started to realize how he was treating Kerri. I couldn’t deal with that, so I made sure he understood my feelings about him when he flipped out at the party a few nights ago. We haven’t been on speaking terms since.

But…Kerri doesn’t need to know that.

“Mr. Ayala.”

I don’t look up at him, partly because I’m too tired but mostly because I already know what he’s going to tell me. It’s the same thing that nurse told me an hour ago. She wasn’t supposed to, but I guess she felt bad for me because I’m here all by myself with nobody to lean on for support. I called Kerri’s folks of course, as soon she was wheeled into surgery and I was able to regain control of myself. I was terrified that her mother was going to answer, because I know how unstable she is, and right now…I know she can’t take much more tragedy in her life. Thankfully she didn’t, but I wasn’t too hopeful of how her father was going to react to the situation. Kerri’s relationship with him went downhill soon after she moved out to Los Angeles and well, I didn’t know if he’d had enough time to get over everything. But I had to say something…I wasn’t just going to let the hospital contact him. I felt that he needed to hear the truth from a friend or family memember, and even though I’ve never been extremely close with the Donovan’s, I figured I was the best person for the job at the time.

“Hi Mr. Donovan, it’s Trace.” I’d tried to sound professional. Like I was on some business call, trying to work out Justin’s itinerary. But when he’d remained silent, I couldn’t help but become nervous all over again. My palms had started to sweat, and my left leg started bobbing up and down uncontrollably. It really started to hit me then I guess…I had to break it him; tell him that his daughter might not make it through the night.

“Oh…hello…” His voice was a mixture of confusion and fear. Of course I’d wanted to hang up, I almost did…but I knew that it wouldn’t have solved the problem. The fact was, Kerri was hurt...really bad, and she needed her family to be there for her; even if they didn’t want to be. “Trace, is everything okay?”

I’d cleared my throught, and fought hard to keep the pain out of my voice. “No, sir,” I’d croaked. “Kerri’s been in an accident.”

“Accident?”

I don’t really remember what I said, or hell…how I managed to say it. All I know is that by the end of the conversation, he was the one telling me to calm down, that everything was going to be okay. He told me that he and his wife would be on the next flight out to Los Angeles, and that I should try and hold myself together until then. I was proud of the guy for sucking it up and being mature, but the more I thought about it…the more I realized that the guy wasn’t as bad as Kerri had made him out to be. He was worried about her when she ran off to live with Justin, he wanted her to think about her decisions. But of course Kerri was entirely too wrapped up in Justin to care. I mean, not that I can blame her….

I’m the one who guilt tripped her into coming out here in the first place.

But that was before. Before…I knew what Justin was going to end up doing to her. I thought he was going to be okay once he came home, and I thought if Kerri was there we would all be able to heal together. I guess it was stupid for me to think that way though. This ain’t no fuckin fairy tale. Sure there were villains and evil and heroic acts and all that shit, but that shouldn’t have allowed me to think that everything was just going to…fix it self. I should have thought about it, should have realized that night when Justin…did that to himself, that everything was going to be fucked up for a long ass time. I guess I just thought it would be simple. He’d get help, Kerri would come, and everything would just fall into place.

But everything didn’t fall into fucking place.

“Mr. Ayala.”

His hand is on my shoulder now, and so…just to reassure him that I haven’t lost my mind completely, I make myself look up at him. “Yes.”

He nods and gives me a sympathetic look. “She’s stable.” He sucks in a long breath. “And aside from the damage to her leg, it looks like she’s going to be just fine.”

The story they gave me was, she’d lost control of the car and flipped over the guard rail. The car flipped over twice, and landed upside down. She’d been wearing a seatbelt, they told me…but it was that seatbelt that nearly cost her her life The latch had gotten stuck, and she’d been pinned inside the car, unable to escape until help came. To make matters worse, the entire right side of the car had been smashed in such a way, that it had crushed her right leg almost beyond repair. This same doctor had come out part way through the surgery and told me that even if she made it…her leg would never be the same. Hell, they don’t know if she’ll be able to walk on it again, and God damn it…how am I supposed to tell Kerri that? Why the fuck should I have to tell her that? She doesn’t deserve this, she didn’t ask for this. She went home…she went home to see her folks and see me…and have a good time…

And instead, she just got a gun pointed to her head.

“Is she awake?,” I ask weakly.

“She is,” he says. “And I think she’s ready to see you now.”

I don’t hesitate. I quickly thank him as he escorts me to the doorway, and I make sure he’s disappeared from my site before I enter the room. I don’t know why…I know the doctor can’t hurt her, but I guess I just want privacy right now. It’s not often that I get to…sit with her, and tell her how much I care about her. Usually Justin is around, or somebody else…or she’s annoyed with me because I’m trying to tell her how to run her life. Really though, I’m not trying to do anything like that. I just care and I want her to be the best she can be. I hate to see her grovel at Justin’s feet and do whatever he wants her to. He’s fucking been keeping her cooped up with him like a prisoner, and she doesn’t deserve that. I can’t for the life of me understand why he would want to…I mean, doesn’t he understand that she’s better than that? Stronger? That she can see and do things for herself without him? Hell, I know she’s not that scared. She just pretends she is for Justin’s sake…

But that’s going to end right here and now.

“Ker.” I say it lightly as I gently push the door closed. At first I think she might be sleeping, when all I hear are the beeps and buzzes of the machines plugged into her. But then I hear her moan a little bit, and then I hear what sounds like my name…so soft, so sweet. It makes me want to wrap my arms around her and never let her go, but really…I know how stupid that is for me to want to do right now.

“Hey.” I force the best smile I can for her and pull up a chair beside the bed. She looks over at me slowly, wincing a little when she shifts some part of her body the wrong way. “Easy.” I take one of her hands in mine and give it a little rub. God…even now, in this hospital bed, wires and all…even now…

She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.

“I wrecked everything.” She squeezes my hand as hard as she can, and I know she’s trying not to cry. “I…I tried. I did…”

“Shh, Ker.” I kiss her forehead, not having the slightest idea how I’m managing to stay strong for her right now. Seeing her like this is killing me. She’s fucking helpless. Helpless like I’m sure she was in that place, with those horrible people. Helpless like she’s been all these months trapped in Justin’s fucked up lifestyle. “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” I draw away from her and look into her eyes, marveling at their beauty for a few moments before I let my eyes survey the rest of her face. It’s horrible. She’s banged up past recognition. Her bottom lip is cracked and swollen and one of her eyes is black and blue…nearly swollen shut. I wish it were me…I wish I’d crashed, I wish she was okay…I’d give anything for that right now. “Please don’t think that way.”

Then she starts to sob, and I do the best I can to hug her, to comfort her. But it’s hard with the wires and her leg being propped up in the sling and all. I try to whisper in her ear…comforting things that up until now, have always been able to cheer her up. But none of it seems to be working right now, and I guess I need to understand that. The most I can do I guess…is just sit here, be here for her…be her whole world if I have to be. Because God, Justin doesn’t seem to want to be bothered with this at all.

“Did…did he call?”

I know who she means, and it causes me to sigh into her. “Don’t worry…”

“Tell me!”

I stare at her, slightly shocked. I know I can’t get into an argument with her right now...but this shit is pissing me off. She just had ten hour fuckin surgery, she came dangerously close to dying , and all she can think about is Justin? Fuck, after he treated her? I don’t get it. “No,” I say quietly. “He didn’t call, and I don’t want you to worry about it. I did call your folks though…they’re on their way.”

“God,” she moans. “I don’t want to see them. I can‘t let them see me like this, Trace…they already think I’m a failure. This just shows them that I‘ll never amount to anything…that I cant‘ do anything on my own.”

“Listen to me.” I give her hand a firm squeeze and lean in close to her face, brushing some stray strands of hair off of her forehead. “You are not a failure, Kerrigan. You…you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. And your parents…they love you. They love you so much, and they want to be here and see you through this,” I nod. “Just…just like I do.”

The tears travel down her face in heavy thick trails, and I don’t know what she’s thinking. I don’t even know if I’m getting through to her, if what I’m saying really means anything. I guess it’s probably just a bunch of pathetic drabble to her. Yeah, more pathetic drabble from Trace who will never be good enough for Kerri, but will continue to love her because he’s a fucking idiot.

“Why are you always here for me?,” she whispers.

I stare back at her, and I can see it in her eyes. For the first time ever, she wants the truth from me. She wants to know how I really feel, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. For my entire life, I’ve waited for this. Waited for the day that she would forget about Justin for ten seconds and realize that I’ve always loved her. And fuck, it’s taken a kidnapping and a car accident for her to realize that I might…I might care about her for real, and that’s really retarded but it’s happening. It’s happening, and it might be the only chance I have to tell her how I feel. “Because I…”

Fuck.

“You could be doing other things,” she continues. “You had a chance to get married. To get away, Trace. Why didn’t you take it? Why did you hang around? Why are you always so concerned about where I am or what I’m doing?”

I slap my hands on my thighs and rub them nervously. This is it. I can’t just sit here, smile like an idiot, and try to pretend like it doesn’t’ matter. I love her. I…I do. And it’s not something I can hide from her anymore. It doesn’t matter if she tells me to fuck off or if she tells me that she cant’ think of me that way. It wont change my feelings for her, because I can’t help who I love. I can’t help that it’s her. I just can’t.

“I love you,” I say, just above a whisper. She stares back at me, silent…she doesn’t know what to do. It’s probably a bad time for this, and I know that. She has too much on her mind and I’ve just confused her more. But I mean, I fucked up her life when I hired Shane to work for Justin so…I don’t think telling her how I feel can really do that much more damage to her psyche. “And maybe it’s wrong, and maybe I have a hell of a nerve telling you this right now. I know you’re hurt and I know you’re vulnerable, and Ker…I’m not asking you to try to love me back. It’s just…you wanted to know okay? And I’m telling you.”

“You’ve always loved me.”

I can’t help but nod, because I know she’s right. How she’s always known, I can’t say, and I don’t really care to know. It almost makes me feel good to know she’s always had an idea of how I feel. But then again, she never said anything to me about it until the other day. I guess that means she’ll never feel the same way about me, but I’m not going to take it personally. She’s messed up, and hell, I know I’m still messed up too. What we need to do is get ourselves together again. Kerri needs to get better, I need to get my fucking confidence back, and we both need to just move past all of this. I’m not going to allow myself, or Kerri, to sit around and think about how horrible life has been to us. I’m not going to have stupid conversations about Justin, and what an asshole he’s decided to be. I’m done with that, I’m ready to move on, and I need to make Kerri see that it’s okay for her to move on too. “I guess I have,” I say to her.

And then she smiles at me. It’s a smile of understanding, of hope. She’s telling me it’s okay…that maybe, she understands. That no, she can’t say what her feelings are for me right now, but that she does care for me very much. And hell, that’s more than enough for me. “You’re the best person I have in my life,” she finally says. “You’d…” she pauses and tears her gaze from mine. “You’d never hurt me.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t.”

She reaches out to me as much as she can, and I hug her again…a little too hard for her condition, but I don’t care. She cries into me, begging me never to leave her and I promise her I won’t. I promise her with everything I have in me. “I’ll always be here,” I reassure her. “We’re gonna do this together, the right way…you and me, okay?”

She lets go of me after a few moments, and I help her sink back into her pillows. She looks up at me then, her expression full of questions, and I hope to god I can answer them all for her.

“What’s going to happen to him?”

I sigh and lick my lips. Really, I just want to tell her that Justin can go fuck himself, but I know that’s not what she wants to hear from me right now. So, I try to think up a logical explanation, and thankfully I come up with something believable. “Justin has to find his own way around this,” I tell her. “There’s nothing you or I can do to change what happened to him…and it’s wrong for him to expect us to.”

She’s silent again. She’s silent again, and I’m starting to think there’s something she’s keeping from me. I’m afraid to ask though. I mean, she’s made it clear to me many times that what’s gone on between her and Justin is private…but I don’t know. If he hurt her I think I have a right to know. If he hurt her…

If he hurt her like I think he hurt her I’ll kick his fucking ass.

“Kerri.”

“Yeah.”

I draw in a long breath. “What happened when you went to get your stuff?”

“It started to rain when I left,” she says, not looking me in the eye. “I guess I drove too fast…”

“No,” I interrupt. “I mean, before…” I shake my head a little. “Was Justin home when you were packing?”

“No,” she states simply. “Nobody was there.”

I try to stare her down, to get some kind of truth out of her, but she just looks back at me like she doesn’t have a clue as to what I’m getting at. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe nothing happened…maybe it’s like she’s said. She just got into an accident on the way back. Sure she was probably stressed, and it probably caused her to drive too fast or whatever, but I don’t know…I don’t think she’s stable enough to keep any kind of confrontation she had with Justin a secret from me. At this point, it just wouldn’t make sense. “Okay.” I smile a little. “Just asking.” I get up from the chair, and turn to leave…thinking she should get some rest before her parents come. But then…

“Please stay with me.”

And of course I do. I sit with her, hold her hand, and watch her as she drifts off to sleep. Soon, I feel myself dozing off too, and it feels nice. It feels nice to know that when I wake up she’s still going to be here, and…I’m going to be here. When I wake up I’ll have her right next to me, and she’ll care. And I know…I just know that somehow, we’re going to make it. We’re going to live, not be afraid, and enjoy life…finally enjoy it again…

Together.