he rest of our time in New York is actually tolerable. The air around me is strangely lighter, like I’d been in a vacuum for the last few months and suddenly I’d been set free. For the first time since I was bought and paid for, I can breathe. Not that it’s perfect. No way. With Mr. “My Bathroom Breaks Don’t Stink“? He still tosses orders at me, throws Trace a leer and a wink when he spouts out some off-colored pearl of wisdom in my direction. Somehow those words aren’t as hurtful as they once were. Is it because I’ve toughened up or, perhaps, Justin doesn’t seem to be so cruel anymore? I keep this realization to myself. If he’s mellowing, so be it. I won’t tell if you don’t.

“What’s a four letter word for disguise?”

I look up from my magazine. Justin is staring at me intently, nibbling on the end of his pen cap. I can’t help but smile…he smiles back.

That’s never happened before.

“Costume,” Trace replies.

I roll my eyes. “That’s not four letters.”

Justin laughs out loud. “You dumb bass.”

He’s in a great mood today. I think it has something to do with the meeting he had the other day. Something must have happened…yes. He must have gotten his way.

Just like always.

Trace is glaring at me. Nice…for once I’m the one that’s laughing at him. “Try mask,” I tell Justin.

His eyes grow wide. “Oh yeah,” he smirks, while filling in the spaces on the paper. “Duh.”

I smile. Change. Change is good…especially when you’re in the kind of situation that I’m in. I hope things keep changing. I hope that by the end of the month, Justin will have become a whole new person.

A person I can joke with…a person I can laugh with. Hell, maybe even a person I can be friends with, as strange as that may seem.

As of right now…Jade is the only friend/family I have in the entire world. I look forward to going back to Tennessee…I look forward to seeing her again. I can’t wait to see her again in fact. You should see all the shit I bought for her since I’ve been here. She’s gonna be so surprised…

“Think your smart Deja?”

I look past Justin, and let my gaze fall on the voice’s owner. Trace is glaring at me. I wish he would butt out. Stupid ass. I didn’t do anything to him. “What’s your problem?” I huff.

“You’re trying to make me look stupid,” he mutters.

“I can‘t make you look stupid,” I blurt out. “You already are.”

Justin looks at me. He is silent, his gaze is emotionless. I’m not sure what to think. Is he mad? Is he amused? It’s so hard to tell with him.

“Fuckin Christ! Justin…teach this girl some manners.” Trace snaps. “Thinks she can say whatever to whoever…” he leans forward a little so he can get a better view of my face. “Do you even know who I am?”

I want to laugh. No…don’t laugh Deja…no… “Sorry,” I whisper. I’m sure my face is bright red…yes. It’s taking all of my strength to hold the laughter in. I cover my mouth with my hand. A short, almost silent giggle escapes me. Crap.

A queer sort of smile appears on Justin’s face. He cocks his head to the side. Amused? Yes…maybe he is. “What’s with you?” he half laughs half whispers.

“What’s with you?” I reply. It’s an honest question.

His eyes are full of playfulness.

Change is good.

“We should talk,” he begins, leaning in closer to me. “Later…at home.”

I nod. Weird…weird but good.

“Aren’t you goin’ to…” Trace begins.

“Don’t worry about it.” Justin tells him.

Trace doesn’t say anything to me after that. About twenty minutes later, I find myself on the plane, seated next to Justin. His headphones are hanging around his neck, blaring some sort of mellow rock music. He is asleep…but he looks so peaceful.

Yes…peaceful. Perhaps, he is at peace with himself, finally.

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

Five hours later we are back in Tennessee. The surroundings are the same…but the mood is much different. I didn‘t dread coming back here though. I felt…relaxed, and even a little happy to be back. I thought the feelings I had might have been due to Justin’s behavior on the plane. No, he hadn’t asked me to do a thing for him…or his skuzzy friend. Yes, the trip back home was different…much different than the trip had been when we had left home. Justin and I even talked a little bit…not about anything that significant though. He was rambling on and on about that meeting he went to. He says his solo project has been approved….that it’s going to be released later this year. I guess that’s good…and he seems to be excited about it.

Maybe now he’ll be able to keep his mind focused on something else besides making my life miserable.

We finally arrive at the house I have come to know so well, and get out of the car. Surprisingly, Justin carries a couple of his bags this time, leaving me the lighter ones. I smile at him, and he winks at me. Another change…

“Thanks for getting my bags Deja.”

I glance over my shoulder, just in time to catch Trace glaring at me. He throws his bags down on the ground and pushes past me. He’s pissed because I didn’t carry his stuff. You know, I’m starting to think that Trace is worse than Justin…he has a terrible attitude…and he’s nasty…

Good thing I don’t have to sleep with him.

Instead of getting angry at him, I decide to be a smart ass instead. After all, he’s not Justin. It’s because of this I feel I can say what I want to him, and not suffer any consequences. “Quit bitching…your fat ass needed to work out,” I smirk.

He doesn’t like what I say…his gaze turns colder…darker. “You’re the fucking hired help,” he snaps at me. “Don’t fucking act like you’re more just because you’re fuckin’ Justin every night…you’re nothi n but a glorified prositute,” he spits at my feet. “That’s all you’ll ever be.”

I don’t express any emotion. I can’t. I can’t let him win. I glance at Justin. He’s standing there…no…I don’t think he knows exactly what to do. I manage to spread another smirk across my face. “I know what I do,” I tell him. “But anything has to be better than mooching off of your friend instead of getting a real job.”

I hear Justin snort out a laugh. I look at him. He’s biting his bottom lip. I don’t think he was expecting me to be so bold with Trace…I don’t think I expected myself to be either.

He slaps me across my face, in the exact spot Justin had a few days ago. I let out a whimper…my back hit’s the wall. I clutch my cheek…and try to fight back the tears I know are trying to get through. I don’t speak…no…I’m too shocked to speak. Trace barrels toward me again, and stops inches from me. His face is close to mine…his breath is hot…and it smells. He was drinking on the plane…yeah. He raises his hand to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for what I know is coming…

“What the fuck?”

I open my eyes again. What I see makes me think I have been kicked in the head instead of just slapped in the face. Justin has pinned Trace up against the wall. His fist is in Trace’s face…

He’s read to punch him?

I blink…once…twice…

This is real.

“J…c’mon….” he whimpers.

I guess he’s not so tough when he’s up against another male.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Justin seethes. He lets go of him and pushes him away. “Don’t fuckin’ hit her again.”

Justin has just stood up for me. The phrase repeats itself in my mind over and over again. Justin has just stood up for me…

“Deja, upstairs now.”

I snap out of my daze, and after giving Trace a final look of disgust, I grab my bags and run upstairs. I’m shaking now. I laugh at myself. Shaking. Why? Not because Trace slapped me…no…I know that’s not why. Well…it could be part of the reason, but I think it has to do more with what Justin did. I hear the door slam downstairs…footsteps follow. The next thing I know, the door to the bedroom flies open, and Justin is there. I look at him. I don’t know what to say…hell, I don’t even know what to think.

“You really should watch your mouth Deja,” is all he has to say. Then he starts to pace the room…yea, I know he’s scared. I would be too if I were him. Like, if I had pushed Jade up against the wall…yeah…I would feel just like he does right now.

“I’m sorry Justin,” I whisper.

He doesn’t slow his pacing. “I never…I mean…I don’t treat women like this, like I treat you.”

Now I really think I’ve been kicked in the head. I stare at him, my eyes are wide…my mouth is gaping. I don’t think he notices. He keeps talking.

“I mean, I love being in relationships Deja…I love loving a girl…I love making her happy ya know?” he sighs and runs his hand across his head harshly. “It’s just that…no matter how hard I’ve loved a girl…no matter how much I’ve tried to please her…it’s just never seemed to work. It’s made me bitter Deja…bitter and cold. I mean…” he pauses and sits down on the bed beside me. “I look in the mirror right? And the guy that’s there isn’t me. I…don’t even know who the hell I am anymore.”

His eyes meet mine. They’re glazed over, and look like they’re about to let out a rush of tears at any moment. It’s now that I realize that he really is a person underneath it all. He’s a person…a human, no different than anybody else…and he has problems just like everybody else. I think he’s had a hard time with a lot of things…because he can’t talk to people about what he’s feeling and thinking like other people can. I’m sure he tried to find a person he could talk to…I’m sure he spent years dating tons of women trying to find that perfect one. And every time he thought he had found her…he just got screwed over…and it drove him to the brink. I’m sure he felt like he had no control over anything…and he felt useless as an individual. I realize now, that’s why he brought me into the picture…so he could have that control. No, I can’t say that he was right doing everything he did…but I can’t say I blame him either.

“Do you get it?” he asks me.

I nod.

He looks amazed. He looks like he has just found something that he lost a long time ago. He touches my face. “Yeah?”

“I get it,” I whisper. “And I would never leave you like that Justin…not all alone, like the rest of them did.” I can’t believe what I’m saying. This guys has hit me…degraded me…made me feel like nothing. But yet here I am…telling him I care. Maybe I’m just as fucked up as he is. I just don’t have the temper that he does.

He kisses me.

It almost takes my breath away. I snap out of it quick. I’m not doing this to myself. This is my job. I’m not about to fall for him now…not after everything else.

“I wish I could believe you,” he whispers, laying down on the bed.

I’m even more confused now.

“But I can’t.”

I curl up beside him. “Why?”

He looks at me again. “I told you why.”

“I’m not like them,” I tell him. “If you took the time to get to know me and what I’ve been through, you would know that.”

He closes his eyes. Stubborn bastard. I’m so mad at him right now. Here we were on the verge of a major personality breakthrough and he goes right back into his shell again. I just don’t get him. I don’t get him at all.

After a few moments, his eyes open again. He smiles.

I wonder if he ever heard of the term bipolar before?

“You know…we’ve never made out before,” he informs me.

Idiot. “We kiss all the time,” I grumble.

“Don’t be grumpy,” he frowns.

I roll my eyes at him.

“C’mon, you know what I mean girl,” he informs me.

“I do?”

“You know…” he says, nudging me in the ribs. “We’ve never just sat downstairs…on the sofa…no socks on…your lips on mine, without it turning into something. It’s been so long since I’ve sat somewhere and done that…”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” I smile.

“Deja,” he persists. “Make out with me. Come on.”

I can‘t help but smile. He‘s so cute when he whines like that. “You sound like some horny fifteen year old Justin,” I laugh at him. “One with big greasy zits all over his face.”

“That‘s not what you said last night,” he points out.

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? So just what did I say?”

He tips his head back and starts to laugh. “Well…if I remember correctly, it went something like ‘Oh Justin…Oh God, yes! Justin! Oh Justin! Oh Justin!’”

I laugh and shake my head. “And if I remember correctly…I think you were the one screaming your own name, Mr. Ego.“

He kisses my neck. “That‘s twisted,” he whispers.

“It‘s my job to be twisted,” I smile.

He is silent for a moment. “I won‘t let Trace do that again,” he tells me. “I’m sorry,” he strokes the injured side of my face. “Nobody should hit you…not ever.”

I simply smile at him. I know I can’t say anything right now…or I’ll end up bursting into tears. So, instead of ruining the moment, I simply close my eyes.

“Don’t ever leave,” I hear him say before I drift off to sleep.

This better last.

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

Two weeks later...

It's been two weeks since our little heart to heart. A few days ago we came to the decision that tomorrow would be a good day for Deja’s friend to come visit. I’ve never seen the girl so excited about anything. She’s been cleaning and preparing all day long. She’s nervous…but not in a bad way. She’s that excited kind of nervous. The kind of feeling I get right before a show.

“Get your feet off the damn table!” she shouts at me, pushing them to the floor. “I just cleaned it!”

I laugh at her. “Sorry…I don’t know what came over me Dej’.”

She rolls her eyes and hands me my lemonade. It has a little umbrella in it. I take it out and stick it behind my ear. “We be jammin'" I sing, in my best reggae type voice. I take a sip. I haven't felt this playful in months...

Things have changed a lot with me personality wise since I opened up to Deja like I did. I feel so…free now. I don’t feel like I need to hide my feelings from anybody anymore. I can look in the mirror now…and know who I am. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. I feel like I’ve been reborn or something…and I know that sounds really cheesy too…but it’s truly how I feel. I’m starting to get past my demons, and move on with my life. Working on the album is helping a lot too. Writing is a good escape. I can express my feelings in a way that doesn't hurt anybody...that doesn't hurt Deja. I don't know what took me so long to pull my head out of my ass...I can't believe I allowed myself to be such a pigheaded bastard for so long.

Things between Deja and I have taken a turn for the better as well. It's not about sex with her anymore...and actually...we don't really have sex that much anymore. Maybe once a week...sometimes twice. It's mostly just kissing with us now...kissing and touching. Sometimes...we'll just sit together and hold each other. I think she knows I need that right now. I need to be held...I need to feel secure with somebody. I never thought that Deja was the kind of woman she is. She's so....strong...and smart. I guess you'd have to be to put up with all the crap I put her through.

She's my friend now. My good friend. I love talking with her. I love getting to know what kind of person she is. The contract...it doesn't even matter to me anymore. The contract...the whole thing was asinine to begin with. Yeah, I still have it...but I have the feeling that I'm gonna end up ripping it up...or I’m just going get it terminated or whatever. I mean, I'll still give her the money and everything...but those stupid rules...those stupid obligations she agreed to...they're done. She's not a slave...she's a person. I can see that now.

Trace and I are cool. I mean, I'm still pissed about what he did to her...but I can't hate him. He's my best friend. Deja doesn't care...but she wouldn't anyway. She still doesn't realize that I want to hear her opinion...but that's my fault too. I haven't told her that I don't care about the contract anymore... I haven't told her that it’s different with us now. I guess I figured she would just catch on…but she hasn’t. But why would she? She’s no more used to the sudden change in me, than I am. I guess I’ll have to tell her myself.

I doubt I‘ll have the guts to do it. My emotional feelings toward her are changing…I know t hey are. I look at her now and I feel…something. I can’t say it’s love…because that’s gay and that’s now how things work with me. I like her…yeah…that’s it. I like her…I like her a lot. I can’t tell her…because she would never go for it. Sure, she’s happier here now…but that’s only because I’m treating her like a person now instead of a slave. After what I put her through…I’m sure she’s just praying I don’t go back to my old ways. She’s going to stay…until her time is up. She’s going to take the money…and she’s going to leave. There’s not going to be anything more between us. She’s not going to fall desperately in love with me and live happily ever after.

Yes, she‘s going to leave me and I‘ll be alone again. Thinking about that…thinking about how she’s going to eventually leave me like the rest…it almost makes me angry…but then I calm down. It’s not her fault that I’m going to be alone again…it’s mine for setting this whole thing up.

I guess I shouldn‘t be thinking so far ahead. I need to focus on what’s going on right now. I need to focus on making Deja happy while she’s here. I need to focus on making Trace respect her more. I need to focus on making my album the best it can be.

“Sad?”

I look up. Deja is looming over me, a broom in her hand. There’s a streak of dirt on her cheek…her hair is a mess.

But she’s beautiful.

“Nah,” I tell her, smiling now. I get up off the couch. “You want some help?” I ask her, wiping the dirt off her face with my hand.

“Why mas’sa,” she says with a small smirk. “I am greatly obliged.”

I smile and yank the broom out of her hand. “Stupid,” I giggle. She leads me away and we begin to tackle the mess that is my kitchen.

I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon