Craig looks at me “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The press has now seen your face, we can’t have them knowing what you do for a living. I just talked to Justin’s manager and we have a deal to offer you. Justin needs to start coming of as a committed guy rather than a playboy,”

I hear Justin snort, “I don’t want any girl cramping my style.”

Craig gives him an ugly look before continuing “So we will offer you ten grand a week to be with Justin at all times while were on tour. Pretend you’re his girlfriend for six months, you know, act like your in love and such. You do what Justin wants at night, and we’ll both be happy.”

It’s been a week since the pig said what he said to me. I can barely stand to be in a room with him let alone pretend to be the love of his life. The good news is he hasn’t asked for sex. I’m not proud of what I have done or what I am doing, but I had no choice. I have to survive.

We arrived in New York and Justin is doing his last show here tonight. He’s somewhere out parting with some other A list celebrities and I’m here in the hotel, amusing myself with a game of solitaire. It gets addicting after the first thirty seven games you play. Justin and I haven’t spoken to each other, not that we ever have, but its nonexistent now. He doesn’t even look my way except when we leave the bus and he holds my hand. I haven’t spoken to anyone in over a week. I tried to consult with the goldfish in the room, but he isn’t the chatty type.

Sadly, the tour is taking a few days off for Thanksgiving which means I have no where to go or see. I have to stay in the hotel while everybody goes home to there families. I go to get some tea of the stove, but my hand lips and I burn my hand. I hear the door open and Justin comes in carrying a box of pizza. He puts it down and comes over to me, “It looks bad.”

No kidding Sherlock. “It’s fine, I can handle it.”

I say, sucking on the finger. Justin takes my finger and grabs a couple pieces of paper towels, wrapping ice in them and wraps it around my finger. “Do you think you need to have it looked at?”

I shake my head no, “I think it’ll be fine. It’s not that bad of a burn.”

 “I’m going to call room service for a bandage.” He says, still holding my finger which I wish he would let go off. Being this close to him makes me sick.

 “Don’t trouble yourself. I probably won’t be able to read the instruction on it anyway.”

He looks sheepish but goes for the phone anyway. Within two minutes the bandage arrives and I go for it, but he gets there first, opening it up and putting it on my finger.

 I sit on the couch and Justin put the pizza box in front of me before going to the mini fridge retrieving two bottles of water. I look at him but don’t say anything. He opens the box and folds the top underneath the bottom revealing half cheese and half pepperoni. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I assumed everyone eats cheese and pepperoni is the number one favorite topping of the average person.”

 I raise my eyebrows, “The guy at the pizza place apparently told my assistant that when she ordered it.” I just look at the pizza. The smell alone makes me want dig in, but then I would have to give Princy the satisfaction of knowing he did something right. “Look, what I said at the bookstore… I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I said that. I was raised better.”

He looks sincere and I know from the way the apology came out, it was really hard for him. “It’s fine. Trust me, I’ve been called worse.”

I say, taking a piece of cheese pizza and taking a bite of it, savoring the taste in my mouth. “Is cheese your favorite?” he asks, taking a piece of pepperoni for himself.

“Yeah. I love brick oven style pizza. Especially from New York.”

“So, you’ve been here before?” he looks at me, tilting his head to the side.

I swallow the food in my mouth and exhale before answering, “I was born here. I lived in Brooklyn with my mom until she died from uterine cancer when I was fifteen.”

Justin stops eating and puts the piece of pizza down on the plate, “I’m so sorry.”

I shrug, “She was a drug addict. She got married when she was eighteen and had me the next year. My dad was shot by a stray bullet coming through Harlem one night, so I didn’t know him. Mom went nuts without him, getting a high since I can remember. When she died from a mixture of substances and cancer, I went into foster care but I ran away, landing a bus ticket to LA. And here I am.”

Justin looks like he feels sympathy for me, something I didn’t know he was capable of, “So out of all the things you could have done in LA, why become a hooker?”

 I close my eyes, “No one would hire me. I’m technically a high school drop out. I couldn’t even get a job washing dishes. I have low blood sugar and my thyroid doesn’t work right, which in English means I have to eat three meals a day in order to keep my body going. It also means that I’m almost always cold, that’s why I went to California. When I couldn’t afford to eat, I’d black out. So, one day I was walking the streets, some guy offered me a hundred dollars for a couple of hours and I took it.”

 “Wow. I can’t imagine being left by myself at that age. Don’t you have family?”

I shake my head, “Not that I know of. My mom told me her parents were dead and my dad’s wanted nothing to do with her or me.”

Justin takes a sip of his water before placing it back on the coffee table. He looks like he’s measuring me up and runs his hands over his face.

He looks up at me and says, “Look, since you don’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving, Craig thought it would be a good idea if you came with me back to Memphis at my house there. The press will eat it up and you can have a home cooked meal.”

“When do we leave?” I say, putting my head against the back of chair I’m sitting in.

“We fly out tomorrow morning at six. Speaking of which, we should probably get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

 I go over to the couch and fluff the pillows, pulling my blanket out from underneath the piece of furniture. I lay my head back and flip off the light as Justin retires to his room. Five minutes later as I have just gotten comfortable, Justin shakes my shoulder. I so don’t feel like having sex, but I get up and start taking my shirt off.

"No, come to bed," he states.

Did someone hit him in his head? "Are you sure?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yeah, I don’t like the thought of anyone sleeping on the couch unless their crashing the house for a couple of days.”

Oh yeah, than what have I been doing the last two weeks? He picks up my stuff and goes into the bedroom. I follow him and he puts my stuff on the left side of the bed. He has always favored the right. I curl up under the covers and watch him in confusion. What the hell happened? Whatever it is, I’m sleeping on a mattress again and I’m thankful. He flips off the light and gets into bed. I drift off to sleep ten minutes later. ________________________________________________________________________

Both Justin and I got dressed and got on the private jet. It’s one of the nicest things I’ve ever traveled in. Make that THE nicest thing I’ve traveled. It seats eight people with comfort being the main ingredient. I have Lucky jeans on with a babydoll shirt on. I always did favor the more flowy, romantic side.

He looks at me and shrugs his shoulder, “I date around a lot.”

“You mean you sleep around a lot.” I say, a smile playing on my lips.

“Maybe I’m looking for something.”

 I look him strait in the eye, “I’ve have had sex a lot more than you have and trust me, you won’t find it unless your in love with the person. And it’s not the sex that’s the your looking for, it’s the person.”

"No, not yet, but maybe someday. I think it’s what makes sex worth while. What about you?”

He looks at me seriously, "I think you're right."

________________________________________________________________________

The plane lands and we arrive at Justin’s mansion. I walk through the threshold and am greeted by luxury. Staying here for three days was going to be nice. Justin walks in and Rob puts our bags on the floor. “Later man. See you Summer.”

 “Bye Rob, have a nice Thanksgiving.”

Rob closes the door and Justin and I are left alone. He looks over the house like he’s trying to remember if everything’s in place. It’s obvious he doesn’t spend much time in the house. The doorbell rings and I look to Justin. “It’s probably my mom. She’s got a whole feast ready for us and is brining it over.”

Justin opens the door and greets a woman who is definitely related to him. Besides the obvious blonde hair, the facial features are similar. She hugs Justin hard, “Hey honey, I haven’t seen you in so long.”

I shake her hand cautiously, “Really nice to meet you.”

“You too. Now let’s go get the food out of my car.” Lynn says, holding Justin next to her as she fawns over him the way mothers do when they haven’t seen their children in a while.

We all sit down to eat once the food is on the table and begin some small talk before Lynn clears her throat, "So how did the two of you meet?"

Fuck. “We met…”

Justin steps in to help, “Craig actually met her first in LA and introduced us. The rest is history.”

“Well you seem nice enough. I actually haven’t met many of Justin’s girlfriends, even if they aren’t really dating my son.”

 If she only knew how he treated women, she’d understand why he hasn’t found the one. But I guess all mothers want to think of their children as good people who treat others with respect. The two of them talk about her life and I drink the rest of my wine.

__________________________________________________________

After dinner we sit on the couch as I plays with the dogs. Summer's so tired and I can see her eyes slipping closed as the minutes tick away. Before I know it, she's passed out on the couch.

"She seems nice."

I turn to see my mother standing in the doorway.

"She is."

"You take care of her," my mother says, pointing a finger at me while holding her wine glass.

"Yes mom," I mock.

"Get to bed, I'll see you tommorow."

"Night mom," I whisper as I watch her head up the stairs before making the move upstairs myself.

_______________________________________________________

The next thing I know I’m in Justin’s bed with him sleeping next to me. He must have carried me up, because I certainly didn’t walk up the stairs. Maybe he’s a good guy after all, just rough around the edges. Really rough.

Alright, I apologized to her. I tried for over a week to stop myself, convince myself she wasn't worth it, but the old me made an appearance and I did it. At least now I have someone to talk to while on the road if I want. I'm still not convinced I want some girl around me twenty four seven, but it's only for a few months.

I took Summer home with me yesterday and she was so tired from what I assume is the constant traveling, that she passed out on the couch, probably because she was calling it home for two weeks. My mom came in and took one look at this tiny, pitiful girl and her story before falling in love. She was definitely hesitant over me "dating" a hooker, but after she saw us together, that was it. I got the speech on how I should treat her, which is why I kind of wanted to crawl into a hole and she didn't even know the whole story. She left after with a promise to return for Christmas.

I looked at Summer sleeping there and after all I said to her, I decided to carry her up to bed. I pick her up and she snuggles into my chest. I take her upstairs and pull down the covers before tucking her in. I stare at her for a minute then got into bed myself. Her parents must have been gorgeous because once she was cleaned up and shit, her features are stunning. I tried to sleep but after tossing and turning, I gave up.

I decide to make breakfast around eight with nothing else to do. I have the urge for pancakes and since I only have two days left until we go back on tour, I get out the frying pan and start cooking. I make the batter and pour it onto the griddle when Summer comes in and sits at the island on a stool quietly, "Morning. Sorry I passed out without saying goodbye to your mom. She seemed really nice."

"Don't worry. She liked you a lot."

Summer looks at her feet, "Despite, you know, everything?"

Her insecurities over her line of work make me wonder how she's even managed to keep it up for so long.

I flip a pancake over and turn around, "Because of everything. She admires the fact that you have made it on your own. She just doesn't like me sleeping with you.'

She perks up a little, but it's awkward. How can it not be? I slept with her more times than I can count and we can barely have a conversation.

"You hungry? I made some pancakes."

"Sure. I was using your master bath and it's huge,"

I laugh, shaking my head, "Women always notice the bathrooms."

Summer smiles, "Yeah I guess we do. How many bedrooms do you have in this place anyway?"

"About six. Five of them aren't done yet obviously."

"That must be nice. You can have a lot of kids later on and they could have their own rooms."

I give her a funny look, "I guess.... Is that what you want, a lot of kids?"

Summer blushes and looks away from my face, "Well yeah. I always wanted to get married as a little girl and have five or six kids. Do it right, y'know? Not that any of that matters now."

I can sense she feels like she revealed too much. I give her the pancakes and I pull up a stool as well and dig in. I watch her face as she eats her food and its distorted from her last comment. She's a lot quieter and picks at the food.

"Listen, I'm going into town to the recording studio with Trace. You can come or stay here."

"I'll come. It's your house, I don't want to make myself at home."

I jerk my head up to look at her, but she's putting her dish in the sink, "I'll go get dressed and be ready in five minutes."

"Can any girl be ready in five minutes?"

She's up the stairs and I hear, "You can time me!"

______________________________________________

Four minutes and forty eight seconds later, I drive through the familiar town and think about how much it hasn't changed. Summer sits with her back towards me, watching the kids play on the sidewalk. I park and we go inside the studio. One camera catches us on the way in, so I pull Summer towards me. She tenses up but leans against me anyway. She's definitely getting into the hang of this "couple" thing.

I greet the producers and Trace comes out of one of the rooms. Summer bounds right up to him and wraps her arms around his neck. Okay, she barely looks at me but manages to find it in her to worship Trace. Ugh.

Trace finally lets go of her and comes over to me, "You have a nice Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah man, mom came and we all had dinner." I answer, annoyed that Summer is now got her arm locked around Trace's.

"That's good. Listen, they're ready for you to start, so why don't you go on in. I'll keep Summer company out here."

Hell no.

I take Summer's other arm and pull her towards me, "No, she can come in. Summer, you can sit in the corner and watch, you just have to be quiet because they record what I sing."

Summer shrugs, "Fine, I guess."

Trace mouths "What's up?" to me, but I just shake my head to indicate nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong with the fact that my girlfriend is all over my best friend.

Well, my hired girlfriend.

Summer sits down in the corner and starts to read again as I begin to get a few tracks down. After an hour and a half, Kevin, the producer, tells me I'm done. Summer gets up as I put my head phones down and walks out of the room. It's hard to tell whether she enjoyed any of the music since there was no expression on her face during it, and believe me I checked.

"I'm just going to use the ladies room. I'll be right out."

I wait a second, then decide to go ahead with my instincts. I'm going to reclaim what's mine.

I follow her and wait outside until I hear the faucet going, then turn the doorknob.

"What are you doing in here?" Summer asks as I lock the door.

"I'll give you one guess."

She looks at me and sighs, letting me grab her and push her against the wall. I'm slightly put off by her off-putting tone, but I push that aside. I pick her up and put her on the counter. Summer spreads her legs and I reach up under her skirt, pulling off her underwear. I unzip my pants and put on a condom. I hold on to her hips and enter her, instantly surrounded by warmth. I pump in and out of her as she holds on to my shoulders. I put my hands underneath her sweater and undo her bra so I can touch her. I latch on to her neck and nip on it a little as my hand makes its way back under her skirt, rubbing her as her walls grab on to me and contract.

I decide that it might be fun to spice it up a little, so I pick Summer up and press her back against the wall, thrusting as fast as I can. I shudder as I get my release, breathing hard against her as I balance her on my hips. I finally pull myself out and put her back on the counter. I clean myself off and pull up my pants, zipping them up. I turn around and Summer is putting her clothes back in their original position.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" I ask, watching her button up her shirt that withholds a wonderful view.

"Don't bother. I think I can get dressed by myself."

I nod and retrieve my keys from my pocket, leaving the bathroom and walk right into Trace.

He pulls me to the side to the corner of the room, "What's the problem man? You're acting really weird."

I'm not really sure I know what the problem is.

"I... We are just supposed to be a couple and you act like she's your girlfriend." I huff, trying to piece everything together in my mind.

Trace starts to looked pissed, but it changes over to a grin, "You are starting to warm up to her!"

I shake my head vigorously and lower my voice, "That's not it. I just want to know what's going on between the two of you."

"Nothing. I just listen to her. The first night I met her on the tour during your concert we talked a lot. She told about her life and I told her about mine. You know, like friends? I know what it's like not to be able to afford to live, remember?"

I don't say anything, feeling like an idiot.

Trace continues, "Obviously she has had an affect on you, if you're so afraid she's going to fall for me that you bring her into the recording room. Try being NICE to her and she might open up to you too."

Summer comes out of the bathroom before I can deny the new set of allegations and we immediately go quiet.

"What's up? She enquires to Trace more than me.

"Nothing, I've got to get going, but you two enjoy your last two days here. I'll see ya."

Summer and I get into the car as she puts her book in her lap.

"You really like to read huh?"

"Well, only the books with really small words that a whore like me could sound out."

I throw my head back against the seat, "I apologized, how many times is that going to be thrown back in my face?"

She smirks, "Until I feel your penance is served."

I sigh, starting the car, but go in for second try, "Since you like to read, there's this old bookstore in town and I was wondering if you wanted to go?"

She actually looks at me, "Really?"

"Really." I say, already driving there.

Summer runs in as soon as I put the car in park and is browsing the shelves when I finally find her. "They have a great selection. They even have the fifth edition Grapes of Wrath."

 She picks up book after book and holds them as she searches for more. After a few minutes of watching her sort through the selections, she picked out about a dozen.

"Alright, we can go," She says, walking towards the cash register as she digs into her purse for her wallet.

"That's alright, I'll pay for them." I say, taking the load from her.

"No thanks, I don't need you to buy me anything. Besides, doesn't that violate rule number three?"

I swallow hard, "You remembered huh?"

"Of course, fuck, I can list them." She looks down at the books, trying to pry them from my arms.

I never thought that she took anything I said to heart. Or remembered the numerical order of them.

"I know you don't need me to, but I want to." I leave with the books to pay for them before she can argue with me. After I pay, I find her standing by the door and I hand her the bag of books.

"Thanks, you didn't have to do that." She says, looking at me.

"No problem."

It's six o'clock and the Italian food I ordered arrives. I unwrap it and put it on two plates, bringing Summer's and mine into the living room where she is.  We each take a fork and start eating.

"Want to play a game?" Summer asks, twirling a piece of pasta around her fork.

"What?' I say, trying to figure out where that came from.

"I've been reading for hours and there's nothing on TV. Do you want to play a game?"

"What kind of game?"

"A board game. You know, like when you're a kid and you played Life or Monopoly?"

I look at her with disbelief, "A board game?"

She shrugs, "We might as well do something. I might die from lack of boredom. I'll talk to a tree stump at this point."

I think for a minute, "The only board game I have is Scrabble. My younger brother John left it here last time he visited."

"Scrabble it is."

I go and retrieve the game and Summer sets it up as I pull a chair up to the coffee table. We each pick our letters and Summer starts off by putting "cows" on the board. I think for a minute before putting down "shirt."

"So, since you thought of the board game, I'll start the conversation. Do you like living on the bus?"

Summer puts "riches" down, "Yeah, I feel safe on it. I don't have to worry about it being broken into. How do you like singing?"

I smile, "I love it. I like touring and singing live. It just makes sense when I'm up there." I say, putting down "shower."

"So, have you ever had a boyfriend?"

She sucks on her bottom lip, "I plead the fifth."

I stop talking, thinking that perhaps we are not to the point that she's comfortable answering the question. We sit in silence for a few moments before she sighs, looking at her letters. "No I haven't. I mean, before I was on the street, I had a crush on this guy at school, but he turned out to like someone else. You don't have boyfriends in my line of business. How about you? What about that girl you said you were in love with?" She puts "wasp" down and looks up at my face.

"Thought I was in love with. Her name was Jenna, I met her on a promotion for an NSYNC album. I started dating her and she connected herself to my side, spending the money I made. I didn't say anything because I loved her, but one day I went to her hotel room and I found her in bed with some guy. She just wanted the fame and I wasted three years of my life. But you want to know the worst part? She now works for Artista Records." I put "pain" down on the board and sit back.

"I'm sorry for prying. I didn't mean to." Summer says, putting her hand on top of mine.

"It's fine. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Summer tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and puts "comfort" down.

I smile, "I think you won."

She shakes her head, "I think it's a draw."

And she's right.

Justin and I are back on the tour today. I have to say that the bus has becoming homey and I'm happy to be back on the road. Justin and I are... getting along, so it cuts down on the tension.

We now move about the bus instead of staying in our own private quarters. After hearing about his previous relationship, I understand why he did some of the things he did. It doesn't justify the things he did and said, but it makes more sense now. I don't know what it's like to have my heart broken, but I imagine if you really love the person, it's painful.

The concert tonight is going to be at the Fleet Center, but not before we do an interview with Vogue. The pictures from Memphis sent girls panting for him. He takes his girlfriend home to Memphis and they spend Thanksgiving together (insert teenybopper squeal.) They love what he does, they just wish it was them instead of me.

Justin's laying on the couch reading one of my books, which I suppose any reading will benefit him. He told me he never read Pride & Prejudice, so he's now in the middle of it. I watch the highway out the window and contemplate the spontaneity of life. Last year I was struggling to survive and this year, I'm making more than I've ever seen in my life.

We get to the interview and having been coached by Craig on what to say, I nervously walk into the building with Justin. A woman comes up to us with blonde hair and a business suit on, "I'm Erica. You must be Justin," she says, shaking his hands, "and Summer," she says, shaking mine.

"Right this way. We'll be doing your photo shoot first and then the interview."

What?

"Um, excuse me, photo shoot?"

Erica turns around, "Yes. The magazine decided because of the publicity surrounding you and the demand for pictures, we would do a photo shoot."

I look at Justin, and he looks unsure of what to do. Finally, he pulls me closer and whispers in my ear, "It'll be fine. The interview is the most important thing to nail."

"I hate pictures of me, I'm not photogenic."

"You look fine, don't worry."

Ugh.   

Erica grabs a tiny white tank top and some jeans that are pretty low waisted, "Here, change into this and we'll do your makeup after. We want some pictures of Justin with his guitar and you leaning against him and some full body shots of just the two of you."

I put on the clothes reminding myself the money I'm making and come out. Red lipstick is applied to my lips and eye liner goes on. I'm given small hoop earrings and a silver toe ring. At least I get to go barefoot. Justin comes out in jeans and a tee shirt with a guitar strapped on to his back.

The photographer comes over, "Alright Justin, sit down and strum on the guitar, Summer, you kneel behind him and wrap your arms around his neck. Put your chin on his shoulder, that's right, perfect."

I listen to him play and he's actual quite talented. This isn't horrible and it's almost over. Just keep breathing.

"Alright, now we need the full body shots. Let's go outside."

We follow the photographer and stand against the gorgeous view outside.

"Now Summer, get closer to Justin. I want your stomachs touching. Justin, pull her shirt up a little and put your hand on her bare waist."

Now it's awkward.

Justin looks at me and licks his lips before obeying the photographer, lifting my shirt up a little and putting his hand on me. We stare at each other as the photographer tells us how to move. Then comes the clincher, "Okay, lay in the grass.

Justin take off your shirt and Summer, lay on his chest. Justin takes off his shirt and lays down on the ground. I sink slowly to my knees and lay on Justin's chest. He wraps an arm around my back and pulls my shirt up a little more, running his hands along my lower back. The photographer pushes my hair up over his shoulder and his chin hits the top of my head.

The photographer finally gets what he needs, "That's a wrap. Were done."

I jump up and pull my shirt back down. Way too close for comfort. Justin follows me and we return to the building to do our interview.

We sit in the chairs provided and Erica comes back, "Okay, Justin. You're beginning a new tour with some great new music, but the talk of the town is your new love interest, Summer Mackenzie."

Justin laughs, "Yeah, it does seem to be the question of the moment."

"How did you two meet?"

"She was at an after party for the release of my album. Summer was working for one of my assistants when I saw her."

"Now Summer, both your parents are dead, your father from a gang and your mother from drugs and cancer, but then there's nothing. There is no record of you afterwards."

I clear my throat, "I was homeless and bounced from shelter to shelter, living on the streets. I was lucky enough to get picked to clean up after parties and just happened to be at the party Justin was throwing."

"Was it love at first sight for you?" Erica says, smiling at me.

"No, it was after we spent time talking to each other. You can be the most attractive person in the world, but if you can't connect with them, it won't work."

"Justin, when did you first fall in love with Summer?"

"I just looked at her one day and knew. She's so smart and funny, anyone would fall in love with her, I'm just lucky I got to her first."

"You two have been together a lot. Summer is actually on tour with you and you spent Thanksgiving together. Do you ever feel the need to have your own space?"

Justin looks at me, "No, we get along so well that were comfortable enough to be ourselves."

"Now I heard your mother was at Thanksgiving with you. Did she like Summer?"

Justin takes my hand, "I can honestly say she loved her. Mom likes to see me happy."

"Summer, how does it feel to be followed and on the news, etc."

"It's weird, but I love Justin and being with him is more important than people deciding what kind of person I am."

"Justin, is there something about Summer you love more than anything else?"

Justin adjusts himself in the chair, "The fact that she's always trying to learn something new. She spends her time reading different books or trying to read the maps as we drive from state to state. She's smart and no one pushes her to be, she wants to do it herself."

I suddenly feel really hot and I'm sure my checks are burning. I do not remember that being the rehearsed answer to the question.

Erica stops the tape, "That was great you guys. Good luck on your tour Justin."

She shook our hands again and we get back in the car to go to the venue. Justin took me up to his dressing room and we pick at the food provided. I grab a salad and Justin takes a sandwich, "You know, that was the best interview I've done in a long time."

"Really?" I ask taking another bite.

"Yeah. I was calm and I had you as a buffer. It wasn't a scolding of my life; it was a nice. There was no "I heard you were grinding on some girl in a club."

"Well that's good."

All of a sudden, my lips start to burn. I look around crazily for any chap stick to put on. Then it dawns on me what's going on. I look at my salad and in it is shrimp, buried under the lettuce. 

I shakily grab for Justin's arm, "Justin, I'm think I'm having an allergic reaction."

He looks at me, "What?"

"There was shrimp in the salad, my throat is closing up!" I say, struggling to talk.

"Just keep breathing!" He says, grabbing the phone and dialing an emergency number.

"Help's on the way Sum, just hang on." He grabs for me as throat swells and I gasp for air.  

Justin's holding me against his chest as a doctor bursts through the door. That's the last thing I remember before blacking out.

____________________________________________________________________--

I wake up in the hospital; my throat hurts as well as my thigh. They must have jabbed me with medicine when the doctor came in the room. I look to the side of me and Justin's sleeping in the chair. A nurse comes into the room and notices I'm awake, "Hi, how are you feeling?"

I sit up a little, "Tired and sore."

She smiles sympathetically, "That's common. You need to keep an epi pen with you at all times from now on."

I run my hands through my hair, "I know. I just didn't have medicalinsurnace until recently."

The nurse checks my vitals, "Your boyfriend told us. We couldn't keep him out of this room. He was pacing the hall until we let him in the room. He was very concerned about you."

I'm shocked. I never thought he'd be one to pace a hall just to see how I am.

The nurse hands me a pen, "He insisted that I give you one and to have one permanently in his rider for the remainder of the tour. The doctors had to sign a document in order to get one at every stop on your trip."

I nod, confused. Why does he care?

The nurse leaves and I look around the room. It's a grey room with no much in it. The sky outside is black and rain pours from the clouds. I look over at Justin again. What about his concert tonight? His show should have just ended five minutes ago. Shit. Now I'm responsible for a concert cancellation. I'm pretty sure a refund for those tickets cost more than there paying me. Justin stirs in the chair and opens his eyes, "You woke up. How are you?"

"Fine. Did you have to cancel the concert tonight?"

"What? Oh yeah, don't worry about it." He gets up and sits next to me on the bed.

"What are you going to do? You should have preformed, I would have been just fine. Now you disappointed fans and lost money."

"We scheduled the concert to be made up tomorrow. Everybody just won't have the day off." He brushes some hair out of my face, "Besides, who would be here to make sure your okay when you woke up."

I pull my head back from him a little, "When did they say I could leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. They just want to make sure you are fine."

I pull at the hospital bracelet on my wrist, "What time are you leaving?"

He pulls his head back, "I'm not. Visitors can spend the night, so I said I would."

My stomach turns a little and I feel guilty for keeping him here, "You don't have to stay. I'll be fine by myself."

Justin shakes his head, "No, I'm not leaving you here by yourself. I called Trace and told him you were okay before he had a heart attack when he turned on the TV."

He reaches down by the bedside, "I bought a word search while I was waiting to be let into your room. It's not a board game, but I figured there's nothing else to do."

I take the book from his hand, "Did I ever tell you how much I love word searches? I bet I can find more words than you can."  

He grins, "No way. I did these on the tour in Germany when I first started out. I'm a pro."

I manage to smile, "Bring it on Playboy."

_______________________________________

I was finally released from the hospital early this morning. Justin's team had to give the press a news conference to tell them I was all right. I can't imagine these people caring about whether I am alive or not, but dating Justin makes me news. I never thought about the fame that would come with this. When everything's all set and done, they'll never forget that I once "dated" him. It will follow me wherever I go from now on no matter what road I take. 

Justin's putting in a practice session and I watch him dance and sing. His talent is obvious to onlookers, as people get ready for the show, putting things in place. Craig approaches me as I sit in the audience seats, "You okay?"

"Just a scare."

"A scare that almost cost you your life." Craig reminds me.

"So I've been told." I add playfully to lighten the mood.

"Hospital's orders, you need to go rest." He says, patting me on the knee. I think it's the first time he's touched me. I think I'm growing on him.

"Oh, alright." I walk to the bus and get on to grab my book before I go to the hotel.

Immediately I'm greeted with the smell of roses. I walk all the way inside and the bus is transformed. The once black furniture is replaced with white oversized pieces. Red roses lay in a vase on a side table and where there used to be bare wall space, a tiny bookshelf sits.

I go into the bedroom and the comforter is also replaced from black to a peaceful yellow. Chick flicks are next to my side of the bed on a rack and a first edition of A Little Princess is resting on my pillow. I hold the book delicately and wonder how anyone got his or her hands on it. 

I look at the small table we eat on and there in thyroid medication prescribed for me. I suck in and look around at it all in wonder. Did Justin do all this?

I hear footsteps climb the bus and I get up from the bed and go out to the living space. Justin is looking for something in the cabinet and has yet to notice my presence,

"Hey."

He spins around, "Hi, I thought you'd be resting in the hotel room."

"I'm going. Did you do all of this?"

"Um... yeah, kinda. He says quietly.

"Why?"

"We both have to live on it for the next five months. It was a little dark anyway." He clears his throat, "Come on, let's get you checked into the hotel room."

I follow him in a trance, unaware of what a proper thank you is for this type of gift. The one thing I cannot seem to grasp his why he would do this. I glance back at the bus as I leave, thinking nothing has ever been as beautiful at this.