It didn’t take me long to get over Justin’s little temper tantrum. Things like that don’t affect me that deeply, simply because I have dealt with this sort of situation for a good portion of my life. I just wish I knew why Justin was so angry all the time…because I have no clue. Maybe, if he would just open up to me a little bit, I could help him. Sometimes I wonder if it’s drugs, but then again, if it were drugs he wouldn’t look as good as he does. At least that’s what I think.
Has he hit me yet? Surprisingly enough, the answer is no. Actually, he hasn’t raised a hand to me since that day. Not that I’ve done anything to provoke it. No…he hasn’t done it yet. But I’m sure it won’t be long until I do something to mess things up and make him angry again. It never fails.
It was the same way with Daddy.
It’s been two months, and things haven’t changed. I’m still the live-in housekeeper/sex toy, and he’s still the arrogant son-of-a-bitch that he’s always been. I‘ve been sneaking phone calls to Jade often, letting her know how I’m doing. She’s worried, and she misses me, but at least I know that I can send her money so she doesn’t have to slave at that supermarket anymore. She tells me that she doesn’t want my “sex money”, but I send it to her anyway. I have to. It’s the only thing that makes me feel a little less guilty about leaving her back home by herself. I hope Justin never catches me making a phone call. I’m sure he’ll see to it that I never get to do it again. But then again…maybe if I just ask him about it he won’t care. I mean, it’s only Jade…and I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in that contract that says I can’t talk to my girlfriends.
“Here.”
I look up from my magazine. He is standing over me, handing me his credit card. I’m slightly confused by this, but only slightly. He probably wants me to go to some store and buy him some stupid gift for one of his many stupid bimbos. Yeah, there’s nothing in the contract that says he can’t see other people either. I thought the party was bad…but that was nothing compared to the amount of women I have seen traipsing through this house over the past two months. I take the card from him. “What now?”
“My Mom’s coming over. I need you out of here for a little while,” he tells me. “Take one of the cars and go shopping or something. Get some new lingerie maybe…I’m tired of the ones you have.”
Sex. I think the subject takes up ninety nine percent of his brain capacity. “Why can’t I stay here?” I ask. “Your Mother’s seen me before…she doesn’t care.” Justin’s Mother is a sweet lady. Too sweet. The first time I met her, I was in shock…simply because her son is such a cold hearted bastard. I wondered how someone so cold and uncaring as Justin, could have spawned from such a sweet, loving Mother.
Maybe there’s more to Justin than even his Mother knows about.
He sucks in a breath. “Don’t ask questions. Just do what I tell you to do.”
“I want an explanation.” I say. No, I’m not going to drop like a fly and get ordered around like this. I’ve been here two months…I think I have a right to know what’s going on.
“Bitch.” He mutters. “It’s none of your damn business.” He yanks my arm and pulls me up off the couch. “Get out.”
I push him away. I tend to do that to him now. I’ve gotten a little bolder over time. “I’ll stay if I want to stay.”
“Dej!” he whines.
I’m shocked that he’s whining. He’s never done this before. The situation causes me to let out a small laugh.
“Dej, c’mon…please.”
His voice is soft…human. I have only heard his voice become this calm one other time…the first time we met back at Babes. It’s strange. Nice…he’s…yes…he’s being nice? I feel faint. I feel like I’m dreaming. “Nice.” I blurt out.
“Huh?”
I smile. “You just said please.” I stare at him, waiting for a response. For an instant, I can see a smile begin to appear, but it quickly fades away. He’s never come so close to having a personality before, not around me anyway. I wonder…what’s gotten into him?
“Go out,” he states. “Don’t come back for at least three hours.” He turns his back to me and begins to retreat into the next room.
“Justin…” I call out to him. He stops…turns around. This has never happened before either. Usually, he just keeps going, pretending I’m not there.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Are you…having trouble with something?” It’s the first time I’ve ever gotten up the courage to ask him about himself. About why he’s always so miserable…about why he’s so mean to me.
He looks at me like I have two heads…like I’m some sort of freak for asking him such a thing. “What are you talking about?”
“Why don’t you stop the whole “cold hearted bastard” act, and just tell me what’s really on your mind.” I say, without batting an eye. I don’t know why I’ve decided to be so bold today. Maybe it’s because I just don’t care anymore…maybe it’s because I don’t feel he has the right to keep himself a secret from me anymore. No…he doesn’t. Not if we’re sleeping together. “I mean, nobody is born like this…miserable.”
He stares at me a good long time, not saying anything. I think he’s a little shocked, but he’s trying to hide it. Of course he’s shocked. Up until now, I’ve been a good girl. I’ve lived here, and obeyed his every command…not showing him how upset he has made me on the days where he’s been absolutely impossible to deal with. “It’s not your concern,” he whispers. “Just worry about yourself.”
“I still have to live with you,” I reply. “It’s hard to live with somebody who’s so closed off all the time. Justin…we could be more than we are you know,” I nod. I wait for him to break down in front of me, and confess everything that’s been on his mind for the all this time.
He does the exact opposite.
“More than we are!” he starts to laugh. “More than we are!” He’s laughing harder now, laughing so hard that his face has turned a lovely shade of purple. “More than we are!” he says again.
I’m not laughing.
“Do you actually think that I would take you on as my girlfriend Deja?” He says, once he has gotten a little more control of himself. “You…the dirty little tramp that you are?”
“I didn’t mean girlfriend.” I tell him, trying to maintain what little dignity I have left. “I meant we could be friends…that’s all. I‘m tired of doing…what we do, and not being able to joke around or even talk with you.”
He begins to pace the room nervously. I’m even more confused.
“You think…that because I sleep with you…” he pauses and seems to ponder something for a moment. “That I would stoop down to your level…and…and try to form some kind of bond with you?”
I don’t know why I thought he had changed. Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much at that party he threw last night. “I’ll be at the store.” I brush past him. No, this wasn’t worth my time. He’s a bastard. He’ll always be a bastard.
And it’s not worth it to try and make him change.
************************
I can’t see the ground. All I know is that it’s blurry and I’m about two seconds away from saying fuck it all and falling to the floor. Maybe Deja will find me in the morning…
No, a bed will be much better.
Mom came by for a little while today…before I went to that party over at Marty’s. It was nice to see her…to talk to her. It was nice to talk to somebody. I don’t do much of that.
Deja wanted to talk. I laughed at her. I shouldn’t have. Sometimes I don’t understand myself. This girl…she isn’t the tramp I had thought she was in the beginning. She has a heart you know? Like…I can see it sometimes, in the middle of the night. I watch her while she sleeps. She looks so peaceful. I wish I felt like that…at peace with myself. Everything is so crazy though, that it’s impossible to be at peace with anything…let alone myself.
I’ll never tell her what I really think of her though. No…I can’t let her know that I’m not the badass I act like I am. She’s just another employee…she could never really care…she could never understand what I’ve been going through…what I am going through…
The lights are on, and that means that she‘s still up. I tug on the door and it opens without much of a struggle. I take a step…another…and then I see her towering over me. Did I fall? My knees…they hurt. Shit, I’m on my freakin’ knees in front of…Deja. Well…who would have thought that his would have ever happened? I try to get up…to get away… but I fall again.
How much of that shit did I take anyway?
“Justin? What happened to you?,” I hear her say. I put my hands out in front of me protectively. I don‘t want her to touch me…no…“Don’t help me,” I spit out, feeling her skin against mine. She isn’t listening. Before I know it, her hands grab my arms, pulling me to my feet. I need her to hold me. I can’t walk…please don’t let go… “Let go,” I mumble.
She’s still not listening because now, we’re climbing the stairs together. Why? Why is she doing this? I treat the girl like garbage. I push her around…I own her. I clumsily push her away from me. I don’t need her help. Justin Timberlake doesn’t need help from anyone.
“Quit pushing me Justin! I’m trying to help you,” her voice is soft. Its kind of sexy. I don’t want sex though. No…just a toilet.
I’m not going to make it.
It’s all over the floor
“Justin, pull yourself together! Your puckin’ all over the place.” She pulls me up again, and this time I’m able to walk. She leaves me in the bathroom and I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to see me. I lean my forehead against the cool ceramic of the toilet bowl. It feels wonderful against my burning skin.
“Justin…do you want to get in bed?”
I look up. She’s a blur. I feel her hands gliding over my face. They’re wet…but the water is cold…wonderfully cold. I’m on my feet again.
Now we’re in my room. The bed. It’s so soft. I snuggle down into it…the blanket somehow wraps itself around me.
“Cut the air down will ya?” I ask.
“Moron.” I hear her say. I’m too tired, and too sick to care though. My eyes close.
She’s leavin’.
And I’m sleepin’.
*************
Last night was wonderful. I spent the rest of the night wee cleaning up that bastard’s puke. Oh yes, it was quite entertaining. It was good to see him groveling for my help for once, though. It was a nice change of pace...his care was in my hands. I could of done something to him. Left him on the front lawn naked…kicked him in the nuts…dressed him up as a woman…but I didn’t. I took care of the little shit. A
And he better remember that too.
I deserve an award.
I had to take two showers this morning to get the smell of vomit out of my hair and off of my body. I would have taken a shower last night too…except I was so exhausted from scrubbing his stupid carpet, that I simply didn’t have the energy.
I knock on the door. I’m about to do another heroic deed for the bastard. I have some aspirins for him. Why am I bothering? He won’t appreciate it.
He doesn’t respond to my knocking, so I open the door. “Justin,” I say softly. I step further into the room. My heart sinks…it shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel bad…
He’s crying.
With a sigh, I make my way over to his bed, and set the medicine down on the nightstand. “Hey,” I whisper.
“Go away,” a raspy voice replies.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him.
He pushes me, probably with all the strength he has left. It’s not nearly enough to knock me off the bed though, so instead of becoming angry, I laugh at him instead.
“I said go away!” he yells. “I don’t need your sympathy.”
“Did somebody die?” I ask. “Is the world coming to a fucking end Justin?”
“No,” he mutters.
“Then stop feeling sorry for yourself and get out of bed!” I storm out of the room, angry at him. Angry because he has so much success, and a family…a loving family. He takes it all for granted. What could possibly be so terrible, that he has to drink himself into oblivion three times a week?
What a freak.
Story Tags: stripper celebrityj
