The transition from house hermit, to successful pop star hasn’t been the easiest thing in the world. I was so used to the comfort of my own home, knowing that I was safe and protected…I think it spoiled me a lot. Out here in the real world I don’t have that reassurance. I can’t hide in my bed, under the covers, away from the world, when something freaks me out. I’m either in some hotel room, some office building, or some radio station. Anything could happen to me…or to Kerri. Anybody could come along and decide to try what Shane and Nathan did. I mean, I know I have Tiny and Eric on my side and they do a great job of scaring the crap out of rabid teenage girls…but to a psycho…to a killer, how are they going to come off? Somebody could easily shoot them dead, take me…take Kerri, and nobody would ever see us again. It’s why I’ve been hell bent on getting Tiny and Eric to carry hand guns since the beginning of this whole thing. They just wont though…they think it’s wrong. My mom tells me that they have a point. Tiny and Eric are huge and that‘s good enough for her. She told me guns bring violence…and I guess I know that better than anybody. But still, I’d feel a lot more comfortable going out into the world if my guards were capable of shooting somebody dead; if and when somebody tried to bring harm to Kerri and me.
I guess I should have more faith in the people that work for me. Tiny and Eric have been working for me a long time, and I suppose I’m not being fair by telling them that I don’t feel completely safe when I’m with them. They’re trying really hard, I know they are. And I also know that Tiny blames himself for not coming down to Tennessee with me after the tour ended. Thinking back on it now, I remember that he offered to take the trip home with me and help me get settled in at my moms. Of course then…carefree and fu'cking naïve, I told him to just go home. Hell, I was going home to see my family and get some much needed R&R in. Home where it was supposed to be safe and comforting…away from media and fans and screaming. Sure, I knew Kerri was going to be around, and while I was dreading that whole thing…I took it in stride. I promised myself I wasn’t going to stress out about anything while I was home, because I’d been stressing so much on the tour. So, Tiny didn’t come…I went home unprotected and vulnerable…
And Shane got his chance.
We left New York about a week ago. The day we left, Kerri ran off to Siobhan’s for a couple of hours, and when she came back she was crying. At first I was scared. I thought something had happened to her and I started to get really upset. But then she told me it had just been really hard saying goodbye to Siobhan again. I understood. Until recently, that was her life…the city, her friends…her school. I keep feeling like I’ve taken something precious away from her. Something she’ll never be able to get back again. But what the hell do I do? Send her away…tell her its better for us if we’re apart? No way. I know right now….being together is the best thing for us, especially after the night she got trashed. And despite the fact that leaving her friends and her school has been hard on her, I know she feels the same way. She wants to be with me…she wants to help me, she wants me to help her…and I want to help her.
It’s just sad that in order for us to be happy, everything else has to be placed on the backburner.
I don’t know what we ever did to deserve this much drama in our lives. Really, it’s unrealistic. First abducted, then tortured, and now…battling with all this other shi't. Like my constant anxiety and panic attacks, and Kerri’s drinking problem. I thought the whole point of moving on with our lives, was to get away from all the dramatic sh'it. Aren’t we supposed to be having fun right now? Aren’t we just supposed to…be in this relationship, have fun, have sex…be together and not be miserable all the time? Apparently not. Apparently fate has something else in mind for the two of us. Apparently we’re not supposed to be happy, ever. We’re just supposed to be miserable, have all these weird feelings and stupid problems and try to stay sane throughout it all…
Thinking about it is making my headache worse, so I give up. I snap my journal closed and shove it underneath me for safe keeping, before closing my eyes. I need to relax before we get to our destination, because when we get there I’ll only have a few hours to myself before I have to go face the world again. Cincinnati is the next stop on our tour, and since nothing ever happens in Cincinnati, it means that I’m going to be carted around from one interview to the next…one radio station to the next, fake smile on my face, forced sense of enthusiasm and genuine interest in what I’m talking about. I’m not in the mood for it today. I don’t want to answer their questions…I don’t want to be stared at and tugged at. I don’t want some strange girl hugging me and telling me she loves me. I just want to hide, curl into myself and not be bothered again until tomorrow, or next week…or next month…
Really, I’d rather just catch the next flight back to Los Angeles. I know it would make me calm down a hell of a lot…being home. Maybe if we’d been home all along, maybe if I hadn’t been a pus'sy from the beginning and told Johnny that I couldn‘t handle going on tour after all…things would be easier. Maybe Kerri wouldn’t have gotten trashed that night, or if she had…maybe I wouldn’t have yelled at her, made her feel worthless. Maybe we’d be on better terms right now.
She’s not going to leave me or anything, but that doesn’t’ make me feel any better. I acted like an as'shole when she woke up the next day. I was mad at her. Mad at her for making me worry, mad at her for putting herself in such a vulnerable position. And I guess I might have been mad at her for…not being there for me like I wanted her to be. I mean, I told my mom about Shane, and Kerri was the only one I wanted to confide in about it. I was sure she could make me feel completely secure about all of that…tell me that my mother wasn’t going to start acting weird like I thought she would. But Kerri wasn’t around. She was partying, she was drunk, and I guess I felt like she was blowing me off. I knew I was being selfish and self centered, only thinking of myself and not the whole picture. But I just didn’t care. It was Justin’s moment. Christ, it’s always my fuc'kin' moment isn’t it?
This week has been so crazy, Kerri and I have barely had a chance to sit down to dinner together, let alone talk out the problems we’ve been having. If she’s not running some crazy errand for myself or my mother, she’s filing my paper work or trying to schedule an extra interview into my jam packed schedule. People gruel her if she messes up too. If something goes wrong, its automatically her fault and they let her know it. I know she’s overwhelmed, and I’m starting to feel that letting Trace talk Kerri into taking over for him was a big mistake. She’s already under enough stress. She needs to sit down and rethink her life, work out her problems…but she doesn’t have the time because she’s too busy working. That’s not fair. When she got drunk that night, it should have been a red flag that she wasn’t ready to handle all of this. But I was so worried about things…about how I was going to handle the tour and my problems, how my mother was going to treat me now that she knew about the rape; I didn’t want to be bothered with Kerri‘s issues, I didn’t want to let anything distract me. Now that I have the chance to sit here and think about it all, I know I’ve been a real as'shole. Kerri has serious issues, and I’m supposed to acknowledge that and help her…not look the other way.
“Justin.”
I look away from the television and focus on her. She’s sitting at the little desk by the window, a pile of papers stacked beside her laptop. I shift myself into an upright position and adjust the pillow behind my back so I’m more comfortable. “Yeah.”
“You’ve been double booked,“ she sighs, and rubs her forehead in annoyance. “There’s two slots here for three pm today, and there’s no way I can fit them both into your schedule if you’re going to have that conference call with Johnny at five.”
I realize I haven’t taken a good look at her in days. I guess I’ve just been really busy, or…I’ve just been really agitated and uncomfortable around her. I haven’t felt up to arguing with her, and I guess that’s why I’ve been avoiding her like this. I know even the smallest things can set us off, and a big tour like this leaves little room for personal stress. Now that I’m looking at her though, I wish I’d allowed myself to pay more attention. Her complexion is a pale, almost ghostly white, and her eyes are red, blood shot. Dark circles have formed around them, like the ones she used to get when she wasn’t sleeping. God, she must be doing it again…drinking, not sleeping. I should have been paying more attention to her. I should have been making more of an effort to talk to her…but I’ve been so busy. And of course, I’ve also been a little too stubborn to confront her about all of this too. I hate facing reality most of the time…I hate remembering, being taken back to that horrible place, that horrible time. So much that I’m willing to brush anything and everything to the side to forget about it. But I can’t do it anymore My girlfriend is falling apart right before my eyes, and I know that I’m the only one that can understand why. I’m the only one that can fix it.
“Kerri…”
“Tell me what to do,” she interrupts me with a grunt, focusing her gaze back on the computer screen. “You know this stuff better than me, Justin,” she whimpers. “Don’t let me fu'ck things up anymore than I have already.”
I’m not sure what she’s referring to more. The fact that she got drunk and we haven’t been speaking outside of work, or the fact that she screwed up my schedule a couple of days ago. I wasn’t mad about it or anything. She just mixed up a couple of radio station interviews. I think Tiny gave her sh'it about it though, so I’m sure it a big part of the reason why she’s so sick right now. Sick. It’s weird for me to think of her as sick. Drunk sick. Alcoholic. She’s an alcoholic. I look down at my hands as the realization dawns on me…I’ve never let myself think this way before. But the truth is…that’s what she’s become. The kidnapping, Shane, me…and now this job, it’s all too much on her, and drinking is her salvation. She tries too hard. It’s like she’s afraid she’ll lose me or something if she doesn‘t do things exactly right. And even though I know I’d never ever leave her behind, I can understand her insecurities. I screwed her over once, and its only natural for her to think I’d do it again. I need to fix this…I need to fix this today. She needs to open up, let me help her. She needs to express her own damn feelings for once.
“Can we please just…leave the work for later,” I ask her. I slide off the bed a moment later, and slowly make my way over to where she’s sitting. “We should talk.”
She won’t look up at me. “This work has to be done, Justin. Your career is too important to--”
“You haven’t spoken to me…really talked to me at all, in a week.”
Silence.
I rub one of my hands up and down her arm, hoping that she’ll give in and look at me. I hope she’ll break down, cry, tell me she can’t handle this and she needs help. But she barely flutters an eyelid at my touch. Instead, she places her hands on the keyboard, and starts to type again. She wants to ignore me right now…she doesn’t want to give in. But I mean, why should she? I had my chance to get her to talk a few days ago, but I was too concerned about myself to try. Realizing this, I sigh and draw my hand away from her.
“Whatever,” she mumbles. “Sorry okay?”
I turn my back to her in defeat, and stand there staring at the wall. Neither of us says anything after that, the only sound echoing off the wood paneled walls being the soft clicking of the keys on Kerri’s laptop. It’s driving me fu'cking crazy. When did this happen? We were getting better. We were talking all the time, we trusted each other. Kerri had faith in me. One night, one stupid fight, was all it took to send it all back down the gutter. And I don’t know what to do right now. Kerri is so difficult to read, especially now. I have no idea what her true feelings are about me, about our relationship. Maybe she doesn’t want to be with me…maybe she wants to go back to New York, or back home to Tennessee…leave my sorry ass behind just like I left hers behind that time. Really, I wouldn’t blame her. She‘s been through enough and she deserves to be happy. I thought I was doing that…I thought I was making her happy. I thought that by loving her, and telling her I love her was enough to make her problems go away. But…how the hell is that possible? She was there, she saw everything, she heard everything…they hurt her too. Her problems, like mine, aren’t just going to fade away. I just don’t know why it’s taken me so fu'ckin long to realize that.
“This isn’t going to work, is it?” she says after awhile.
I cross my arms across my chest, but I don’t turn to face her. It’s not going to work? Why is she thinking this way? We’ve been trying…hell, I’ve been trying as hard as I can. I’ve been having sex with her. Does she even realize how hard that is for me…to feel her? To feel her without the constant reminder that I might be gay nagging at me? “I love you.” It’s the best thing I can manage to say at this point. Anything else would make her angry, or make me angry…and I’m not in the mood for screaming and yelling. I just want her to calm down, talk to me on her own without me having to gruel her and pressure the truth out of her. I mean, I tell her everything…I don’t hold back from her anymore. So I don’t understand why she feels she still has to hold back from me.
“Last week,” she whispers. “I never meant to get so out of line, Justin. We were just having some fun. I just lost track of how much I was drinking….”
I turn back to face her. This time, she’s starting at me; her piercing blue eyes meeting my own. She looks so lost right now, like she’s lost complete sight of who she is, and all I want to do is help her find her way back again. But I’m not sure I know how to do that. “Come on.” I hold a hand out for her to take. “Lets go lay in the bunk and talk.”
She draws back in her seat a little and cringes. “It’s dark in there.”
“I know…” I lick my lips and tug at the bottom of my tee shirt. “But , there’s a little light in there and I’ll be with you.”
“Justin…”
But I don’t give her the chance to protest further. I forcefully pull her away from the desk and drag her down the narrow hallway that leads to the sleeping bunks. She whimpers and pouts the entire way, telling me how she’s afraid of the dark and that I’m being impossible and insensitive. But I couldn’t care less right now. I don’t know what else to do for her, because she wont talk to me or look at me or give me a chance. I slide the black curtain aside and push her to the opening. “Lay down.”
“Stop it!” She screams at me and tries to push me away. “Don’t put me in there, Justin…” Her bottom lip trembles and it only takes a half second more for her to completely lose it and burst into tears. “I hate the dark…”
I maintain a firm grip on her wrist, hating the fact that I’m stronger than her…that I can overpower her. She doesn’t need it…she’s been through it. I’ve been through it. But if I let her slip away, go back and sulk at the computer I’ll have lost her again, maybe even for good. “We’re gonna talk,” I say gruffly, giving her a forceful push that causes her to sit down inside the bunk. “So lay down.”
“O-okay,” she says, her voice raspy, full of fear. She sobs loudly, and wipes the trails of tears from her cheeks. “Just…don’t hit me. Don’t hit me, Justin.”
My mouth gapes slightly. I’m being way too hard on her right now, scaring the sh'it out of her…like that day I hit her in the bathroom. I know I’m a hell of a lot saner right now of course, that I couldn’t hit her again even if I wanted to…but Kerri doesn’t see things that way. Some part of her still views me as that freak, that monster that I was a few weeks ago. I can’t do anything about it, I know I can’t. I just have to be patient, be gentle…stop being so forceful. “I’m not going to. Kerri I…when I did that to you I was out of my mind…”
“It’s okay,” she sniffs a little and looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I know I shouldn’t be…you love me and I know that you just want to talk. But…every little thing…every little push and shove and loud voice gets to me, Justin. It still gets to me.”
I crouch down and curl my finger under her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze again. “All of those things still get to me too,” I tell her, giving her a light kiss on the lips. “You know that, Ker. But I guess, I just have an easier time talking about all of this. Maybe it’s because I went and saw Madison…”
“You know how I feel about doctors,” she interrupts me, with an annoyed tone.
“I’m not saying you need to go to a doctor.” It’s a lie. I know she needs to get professional help…she needs to get it very badly. But she’s so stubborn, she thinks she can handle things just fine on her own. I wont push her though. If I do, she’ll only get angry at me, yell at me…leave me. But am I being too selfish? Am I preventing her from facing what needs to be done simply because I don’t want to be alone? It’s not right, and I’m sure if Trace were here right now he’d tell me exactly what I need to be doing. “J, you gotta let her go, man” I almost laugh, hearing his voice in the back of my mind. I should let her go, let her do her thing. But I just…I can’t. I love her, and I need her. And somehow, despite the fact that we’ve been so miserable with each other lately, I know she loves me and needs me too.
“Then what are you saying?”
I frown. “I’m saying…its stupid that you never talk to me about what’s going on with you.”
She stares at me for a long time, seemingly contemplating what to say next. She’s confused. I don’t…I don’t think she knows if she can confide in me this much. I mean, I know we’re together and everything. I know we’ve been through hell and back and we get each other. But still, after all this time, she’s never really talked to me about why the hell it is that she can’t stop drinking . I know she has bad dreams, and the drinking has helped her to sleep in the past. But I thought we battled that problem. I thought the first night we kissed, might have cured her of her sleeping problems. She started to sleep beside me, my arms wrapped around her…and she was okay. She was starting to get better…look better, but then just like that…the cycle started over again. Now she’s back to the way she was before. She’s drained, she’s sick, she’s tired, and I know something has to be done about it.
“It takes away from you,” she blurts out a moment later. “I don’t like to…tell you about everything that I’m dealing with, Justin. You have too much to do…too much to think about.” She shakes her head and tries to look down at the floor again but I wont allow her to hide from me again. I gently push her inside the bunk, and she whimpers a little but that’s the extent of any protesting. A moment later, I crawl in beside her and slide the curtain closed. She starts to cry, she tells me it’s dark. I feel along the wall and find the little switch that controls the small overhead spotlight and flick it on. The light floods our small space, and I feel Kerri sigh against me, relieved.
“Kerri.” I run my hand through her hair, and pull her closer to me, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Listen okay?”
She nods.
The memories of the person I was before Trace found out about my cutting begin to haunt me. I remember him. He was sick and tired, and closed off too. He was so much different from who I am now. He was cold. He turned his back on his friends, retreated into himself. It’s what Kerri is doing right now, and I hate to see it…I hate knowing how much pain she’s in, and not being able to help her. I guess I know how Trace felt…I guess I know how my mom and Cameron felt. I hate that I treated the people I love so badly for so long. But at the same time, if I hadn’t gone through it, I definitely wouldn’t understand Kerri at all right now. And I do understand. I know deep inside, she wishes I would get away from her, let her retreat into herself where its safe…where they can’t get her. “Remember when…you went back to New York?,” I whisper.
“I shouldn’t have gone back,” she sobs into me. “You needed me and I…”
“This isn’t about me right now.”
“Justin...”
“When you went back to New York,” I begin again, and look deep into her eyes. She doesn’t interrupt me. I think she knows I’m trying to make a point right now, and I’m happy that she’s decided to go with it. “I was a big mess. I…you know, I hid from people. I made life a living hell for Trace and mom, and…my girlfriend. Everything hurt you know? I just wanted to be numb. I wanted to forget, and…I guess for a long time, the cutting helped me to get rid of the horrible feelings I felt inside.” I touch her face, and smooth my thumb against her cheek. “It was an escape, Ker. I guess I felt I had nobody else I could talk to…because nobody else knew what I‘d gone through, and you were gone and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I’m sorry…”
“No,” I say, my voice cracking a little. I take a moment to sob, to let my aggressions out. I know I can, I know she gets it and she doesn’t think I’m a weak piece of sh'it or anything. “I’m just trying to say…hiding from people, letting your emotions take over you like that, it’s not the way to do things. I…let it get the best of me, Kerrigan. I lost my girlfriend, I almost lost Trace…I…I almost lost you again.”
“But I’m here now,” she reassures me, tightening her embrace around me. “I’m here and I wont leave…”
“You’re already gone.”
Her eyes get a little wider. I know she’s realized my point. Sure, she’s here physically. Sure, she’ll do anything for me if it means that it will make me happy. But she’s not doing anything to better herself. At the end of the day, she’s just as miserable as she’s been all along. But she’s so good at bottling her feelings inside her, half the time I don’t even know anything is wrong.
“I’m not gone baby,” she whispers.
“Yes you are,” I nod. “You’ve been hiding from everybody. I know okay? I know because I went through it too.”
“We were just having some fun,” she mumbles. “I lost track of how much I was drinking….,” she trails off and looks away from me. “I don’t like getting trashed like that, Justin. I know I scared you…I didn’t want to. But I was just so stressed from arguing with you and…” She finally looks up at me again, and stares into my eyes, searching them for reassurance. “It makes me feel better,” she speaks up. “When I’m drunk it makes me feel better. I don’t have to remember what happened, you know? The pain…it goes away for a little while. I can sleep without having a bad dream.”
Kerri is battling the same thing I was. Cutting for me was an addiction, like a drug…it made me numb, high, happy. And Kerri…she’s addicted to a drug of her own. She can’t get away from it. She feels it’s the only thing that can make her feel totally safe…take all the pain away. And while I can’t blame her…while I know that things have been really, really hard on her, I still don’t want her doing this to herself.
I’m glad she seems to be coming around tonight…really, I’m pretty shocked. This is a big step for her. But I’m guessing she‘s finally getting tired of fighting, of not speaking to me. She’s starting to realize the most important aspect in our relationship is trust, and that she needs to start trusting me more. She knows I love her, and that I’m here for her…but the trust thing…I know it’s been hard for her. Of course I can’t blame her. She lost all the trust she had for me three years ago, and despite the emotional bond we‘ve regained, I know it‘s probably going to take years for her to completely trust me again. “I went through it, Ker,” I say after a while. “I…I know you have a hard time trusting me still, because of other things. But you know, I understand this kind of stuff. You know I do.”
She stares at me for a long time, seemingly debating whether or not admitting her problems is a good idea. I‘d say something, but I feel that this is a decision she has to make on her own. Just like telling people about the rape is my own decision. “I don‘t have a reason to be so freaked out all the time,” she tells me sadly. “Justin, nothing that terrible happened to me…”
“Yes it did,” I interrupt, forcefully. “He did things to you too, Kerri. I know he did…hell, they both did. I’ve been such a jerk,” I sigh. “It’s been so hard for me to cope with what that sick ba'stard did to me, I haven’t really been able to focus on you…and your problems. But things are changing, you know? I mean, I love you so much and we’re together…its not like it was before. And I want you to tell me what happened to you, Kerri.” I give her a soft kiss, and then pull away from her. I know that all I can do now, is wait. Wait and hope she decides to talk to me about things.
“It started because I was afraid of falling asleep,” she admits quietly. “Because when I fell asleep I would have these horrible nightmares, Justin. They were just…so horrible.” She looks down and laces her fingers through mine, keeping her gaze locked there. “Justin when,” she pauses and looks up at me, her eyes wide, glossy, full of pain. “When we were apart…and he locked me in that shed I was so scared.”
I draw her close to me and wrap my arms around her in a strong protective embrace. “I know,” I manage to tell her. “Kerri…”
“I’ve never told anybody about what happened,” she says. Her voice is distant, and she’s not really looking at me. I’ve seen that look before. She’s off in her own world right now. She just wants to get this out, and I know I need to be strong for her. I need to listen, not try so hard to make everything okay. I’ve learned that I can’t do that…I can’t fix everything, not even when it comes to Kerri. Sure, I want to but the girl has to learn to do some things on her own. All I can do is love her, and hope that she decides to talk to me…that she decides that she needs to get help for herself.
“You can tell me,” I whisper.
She looks me in the eye. Her expression is a surprised one, a frightened one. I don’t think she’s been able to comprehend that she can lay with me and talk to me like this; tell me her deepest fears, tell me what really happened to her when they separated us. But that doesn‘t surprise me. In the beginning of this whole thing, I was nearly impossible to talk to. I didn’t want to remember, but as time has gone on I’ve learned that remembering the bad things is the best way to cope with them. Slowly but surely, it’s helping me too. I’m a lot stronger now…I can talk about things now. Like, I told my mother. I’m still shocked that I did that too…but I did it, and I’m proud of myself. I think it’s the first time since the whole thing happened that I can look myself in the eye and be somewhat proud of who I am. I don’t feel as dirty and ashamed now, although I’m still uncomfortable about a lot of things. But still, it’s a big step up from the weak person I was a few months ago.
She rests her head on my chest, and I bring our laced hands to my mouth, planting a soft kiss on her smooth skin. “I want you to tell me, Kerrigan,” I say softly, cupping her face with my free hand. “You can tell me and I’ll listen.”
Her bottom lip trembles. “I don’t want to remember.”
“Sometimes…remembering is the only way to forget,” I whisper.
She stares at me, flashing me a small smile after a moment. “I love you so much,” she whimpers. “I do.”
I kiss her lightly, lovingly on the lips, on her forehead, before smiling at her softly. “I love you,” I tell her. “And I want to help you through this, Kerri. Please…let me.”
“I don’t know how long he kept me in there. But when he came back…I was sure he was back to kill me, Justin. And he put his gun to my head and asked me if I had a good sleep…” she shakes her head roughly, and starts to sob into me after a moment.
This is one of the hardest things she’ll ever have to cope with, and I realize how selfish I’ve been acting all this time. I took the rape hard, anybody would have…but it didn’t give me an excuse to push Kerri’s problems aside, and act like what happened to her wasn’t that serious. It was serious. She was shoved into a dark, dirty shed for hours, tied up…that bas'tard put a gun to her head. Why couldn’t I have been more sympathetic about that? Why couldn’t I have told her ‘hey…I want to know what happened to you. I care’ ? I was screwed up for a long time, and I guess that’s the reason why. I couldn’t focus…I was too confused. Everything was a blur, and Shane was the only thing my mind would allow me to dwell on. I couldn’t care about Kerri. I couldn’t care about anybody but myself. I don’t know how bad of person that makes me. Could I have tried harder? Could I have sucked it up? I just…I don’t know. All I know is…I’m getting my chance to make it up to her now, and I’m sure as hell not going to screw it up. “Keep going,” I reassure her as she cries. “You’re doing it, babe. Just…get it out, okay?”
“He took me outside, and made me lay in the grass. And he…put his knife to my throat. He told me that he wanted to watch the blood run from my neck. He told me he wanted to watch the life drain out of me…” Then she has to stop, because she’s crying so hard that any words that she could say to me right now would be incomprehensible.
But I understand. I get it now. He scared her. He scared her so bad, and if it hadn’t been for me taking that stand…killing Nathan and getting outside, she would have been killed that day. There’s not a doubt in my mind about that. I’ve never really let it hit me like this before…I saved her life. Me. I saved it. I saved it without a second thought for myself, or what could have happened if Shane got the best of me again. I just went there, I just shot them…because it’s what I had to do. “I’m sorry.” I’m crying too, as hard as she is. But I guess it’s okay. We can do this together, because we get it and we’re not going to go talk about it with Trace or my mom or Madison. We have our private moments, and that’s healthy. We need to have this…a special bond together, because we love each other. “I wish I could have done something. I wish I could have gotten out before he said all that to you, Ker.”
She shakes her head roughly, and reaches up to touch my face. “I’d be dead if you hadn’t…”
But she trails off and right now, it’s probably better that she does. We lay together after that, just holding each other, and it’s comforting. I know she feels more comfortable with herself now than she has in a long time. It’s a small step, but it’s better than nothing. “So that‘s why you started to drink,” I manage to say after awhile. “Because it forced you to sleep.”
She nods a little. “It’s the only way I could get to sleep, Justin. Now, I sleep a lot better because you’re here. But it’s just like…I can’t stop drinking. I want to drink, Justin. I want to drink all the time…when I’m stressed, or when I’m not stressed.” She lets out a defeated sigh. “I know I have a problem,” she whimpers. “But I’m not ready to get help from anybody that I don’t know. I know that’s bad but…I’m uncomfortable around strangers most of the time.”
I shake my head. “You can’t help that,” I tell her. It’s the truth. It’s not her fault that she’s lost most of her trust for the rest of humanity. Hell, I’m the same way. Even though I’ve been playing it off really well, I’m still terrified of being around people I barely know. I haven‘t done a meet and greet so far this tour, but tomorrow night a bunch of kids from this cancer foundation are coming, and well…I‘m sort of obligated to meet them all. I’m terrified, but I haven’t really allowed myself to dwell on it much. I know I have to be strong. I have to be Justin Timberlake for my fans, because my career is on the line. But I just…I don’t know how I’m going to handle being touched…especially if I have to be touched by another man. Kerri will be there though. I smile a little at the thought. Yes, Kerri will be there and I wont be so afraid. She’ll tell me that it’s going to be okay, and I know she wouldn’t let anybody touch me that she didn’t have a good feeling about. Really, that’s what my security is for. But my security doesn’t have the same sense about people as Kerri does. She knows what makes me nervous, what will freak me out…
And I’m so in love with her.
“I’m going to help you through this,” I promise her. I plant a firm, reassuring kiss on her lips. “We’ll get through it together okay?”
“Don’t you have enough to worry about?”
“Kerri.”
And she looks at me again.
“You’re all I want to worry about.”
*********************
Two weeks later…Atlanta, GA
It’s not as bad as it could be, I guess. It’s mostly the running around that gets to me. I’m not used to being on such a hectic schedule. Hell, its been years since I’ve done anything like this: been on a tour, rode around on a bus. My body isn’t used to it. I guess I’m out of shape, and it’s probably a good thing that I decided to go running while Justin went to that radio interview this afternoon. It’s really clearing up my head; and despite the fact that I’ve been absolutely exhausted, I find that the faster and further I run, the better I start to feel. I feel free when I run, strong. Like nothing can come and tear me apart or make me feel bad about myself. I can leave it all behind, all my fears and anxieties…
And my addictions too.
It’s been two weeks since I touched the bottle, and it’s been ridiculously hard controlling my urges. Justin gives me candy, mostly jolly ranchers, things that can last awhile. He thinks they’ll distract me. Like, if there’s something sweet in my mouth, I wont have the urge to drink myself into oblivion or something. I know he means well, and while it’s one of the sweetest things he could have come up with to cure me of my addiction, I know it’s not going to help much. I don’t think Justin really understands what it’s like. I mean, I know he understands addiction and not being able to control yourself; his cutting was kind of like that. But alcohol is a drug…just as dangerous as cocaine or heroin. I drank so much, my body became dependant on it. I’ve been having withdrawals. I get stomachaches, hot flashes, and the occasional mood swing. I try to make it all stop by running, or focusing on my paperwork. But most of the time, those things can’t help me. I know what I did to myself, and its my own fault, so I have nobody to blame for this whole thing but myself. I fooled around with a dangerous drug, even when my closest friends relayed their concern to me about it. I didn’t care. I was selfish. I wanted what I wanted, and well…now I’m paying for it
But at least Justin is here for me.
I never intended on telling my boyfriend as much as I did that day on the bus. But Justin was so forceful with me…demanding an answer, pushing me into the darkness. Although, I can’t really blame him for going a little whacko on me that day. I’d been avoiding him since the day after the party. We’d fought that morning. He wanted to know just why it was that I chose to get drunk the night before, instead of coming back to the hotel. He called me selfish, he said I was becoming a threat to myself and our relationship. Of course, hung over and grumpy, I told him he was totally overreacting. I told him he’d been overreacting about way too many things lately and I was getting tired of always having to come to his rescue. Needless to say, that pissed him off something awful. He screamed at me next, called me ungrateful and a bunch of other things that I hadn’t taken the time to pay attention to. I wanted to leave…I almost did. Getting out of the bed, I yanked my suitcase out and started throwing clothes into it…but I couldn’t make myself shut it and walk out the door. The moment the suitcase landed on the bed, he started to cry. I tried to remain un phased. I wanted Justin to see my point…that he was treating me like sh'it when I really needed him to listen to me and comfort me. Looking back on it now, I wish I could have been more rational. But at that point in time I was too tired, too emotionally drained to realize what I was doing to my boyfriend.
“P-please don’t leave me,” he’d managed through his sobbing. Clutching a pillow to his stomach, he’d rolled onto his side and curled up, hiding his face from me. “Don’t leave me, Kerri.”
What could I do? Leaving wouldn’t have helped the situation. I would have felt like sh'it leaving him there crying, and…I don’t know what the hell Justin would have done to himself. Like, I know he doesn’t cut anymore, but a small part of me is convinced he stopped because I came back to help him. I’m afraid that if I do ever leave him, he’ll fall back into it…and quite possibly end up hurting himself worse than he ever has. With a defeated sigh, I’d sat down on the bed and rubbed his back a little. “I’m right here, Justin.”
“I’m so sorry….” Finally turning to face me, he’d sat up and taken my hands in his. “I’m just scared for you.” He’d leaned into me then, and wrapped his arms around me. “I didn’t mean to say those things to you, okay? I just…I don’t know what the hell I would do if something else happened to you.”
I was so confused about so many things. Why I was drinking so much, why I couldn’t get over the damn kidnapping. How the hell I was going to balance Justin’s hectic schedule, and keep our relationship strong at the same time, all without losing my own mind. I didn’t feel like talking then, I didn’t feel like talking ever again really…even though the idea was ridiculous. So, I chose to opt out for once. I decided to distance myself from Justin and everything else for a few days. Looking back on it now, I wish I’d just snapped…lost it. Maybe if I had, it would have made Justin see things differently. Maybe we wouldn’t have ignored each other for a week, and saved ourselves from a lot of unwanted grief.
“I have to think,” I’d told him quickly. “Just calm down.”
“Kerri.”
But I hadn’t said anything more to him. I gave him his pills, and after reassuring him that I wasn’t about to walk out on him, I laid on the couch and watched reruns for the rest of the day. Justin came out of the bedroom around four, telling me that he was a little hungry and wanted to get dinner…but of course I didn’t want to go anywhere with him. Then Lynn came up, and I think she could sense the tension in the room, because she barely gave me the time of day when she persuaded Justin to go have something to eat with her. I didn’t really care. I mean, I love Lynn like a mother, but she can’t understand what I’m going through. It’s not her business. The only person she needs to worry about is her own son…that’s the way I want things. Now that she knows about the rape and everything, I’m sure she sees Justin and I in a whole new light. While I’d love to get her opinion on the situation, ask her why Justin has decided to even attempt having a girlfriend right now, I wont. I’m too scared…too afraid that she’ll blame me for what happened to him somehow. After all…I’m the one who made Shane come down there and take me away.
The week of silence that followed our little dispute was awkward. Being Justin’s personal assistant, I had no choice but to discuss business with him. Going over schedule conflicts, and holding security meetings with Tiny, Eric, Lynn and Justin couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. Justin didn’t seem to want anything to do with me, and I certainly didn’t want anything to do with him. We sat apart, didn’t look each other in the eye when we spoke to each other. It was childish, really…and Tiny made sure to point that out to me when we were alone. He really doesn’t like me at all, and while it makes me more insecure about myself than I’ll ever admit, I can’t blame him. I know he views me as nothing more than a distraction to Justin, and I guess maybe I am. He told me that he didn’t think I was handling the work well at all…that Justin was starting to fall behind, he wasn’t getting enough sleep. I didn’t protest. Fighting with Tiny is pointless, because no matter what happens…he’ll always think he’s right. So I just nodded, told him I’d try harder, even though I was positive he didn’t believe me.
I found myself slipping up more and more as the days went on. I lost important paperwork, I messed up Justin’s itinerary more than once. I felt like a failure, because he was depending on me to do things right and make him look good, and all I was doing was making him look like an unprofessional idiot. Lynn discussed her point of view on the situation with me too. She told me she understood that I’d never done anything like this before, and so, she wasn’t going to kick me to the curb just yet. But she did remind me that she knew I was going through something, and that if I felt I couldn’t keep up with the work I needed to tell her so she could make arrangements. Naturally, I told her I could handle the work. I didn’t want her looking down on me, she had enough going on in her life as it was. We agreed that I was to be given a second chance, but that if I continued to work the way I was, somebody else was going to have to step in and take over for me.
I tried hard to get my act together. I talked to Trace about what was going on, and he was quick to reassure me that I hadn’t done anything unforgivable. He reminded me that I was only human, and that I was entitled to make a few mistakes in the beginning. I should have been proud, he told me, that I had enough strength to go through with a job as hectic as his with so little experience behind me. It made me feel a little better, I guess. I mean, I know Trace…if I was doing a horrible job he would have told me so. Well, I’m pretty sure he would have. A small part of me thinks he was feeding me all of that reassurance, simply because he knows there’s nobody else that Justin trusts to do the work right now. But I’m not going to think that way…I need to believe that I’m the best person for this job. I need this job, to keep myself sane.
I’ll admit, I was terrified of talking to Justin that day on his tour bus. I didn’t want him, or anybody else to try and force my feelings out of me. I’ve never been the type to complain about the stuff going on in my life. I’ve always made an effort to keep my pain hidden from the rest of the world. Hidden deep inside of me where it wasn’t obvious. I hate when people worry about me. I guess I feel that everybody else should come first. It stems back to my late childhood, when my mother was having her mental breakdown. My father constantly put me on the backburner, telling me that he would talk to me ’a little later’. I was told to be quiet around my mother, especially when she was asleep. I’d been old enough to understand that she was having a lot of emotional issues; but I guess, as I was just entering my teen years, I needed a lot more attention than my parents realized. I was entering puberty. I started to menstruate, my chest started to expand, and boys weren’t just boys anymore. But instead of being able to talk about all that with my mother like the other girls, I was forced to figure it all out on my own. Nobody was there for me…and I guess I just learned to deal with it on my own.
I think Justin and Trace always knew that something was going on with me at home, but neither of them every tried to force it out of me. They’d never been that way. To relieve teenage aggression, we’d play video games, play outside, or watch movies. It was only when they were gone, that being left without any guidance at all really hit me hard. I crawled inside myself, I never let my guard down. For years, I was strong, indestructible. I learned how to make due on my own. When Mary came along, I prayed that she would never have to deal with the same emotional trauma that I was forced to. Things started to get a little better then. My mother was distracted from her depression, taking care of Mary. My father’s business had become more profitable…sales were up. Neither of them were miserable anymore, and I started to focus on being happy again. I was almost okay. Of course, my falling out with Justin nearly sent me crashing back down again…but Siobhan was there for me. I was okay…I made it. And then…well…we all know what happened to me next.
But Justin has more than compensated for his actions. He killed them, he suffered and endured horrific pain, simply so I could survive. Thinking about all of that made me feel horrible for keeping my true feelings from him. I realized he truly cared about me, he loved me, and there was no reason to hide from him anymore. So I talked to him, I cried to him about how scared I still am. But he didn’t tell me I was stupid for still dwelling on everything that went on. If anything, he understood exactly why I felt the way I did. He held me, he was there for me. And in that moment, I knew that no matter what happened…he would never leave my side.
I skid to a stop in front of the hotel steps, and let out a long breath. It finally hits me that I’m exhausted, and right now all I want to do is take a nice hot shower and have myself a little nap. Well, if I can get to sleep that is. Although, the dreams haven’t been as bad since I was forced to stop my drinking. The first couple of nights were bad. I had a really bad nightmare, woke up screaming and crying. It was so real, I truly feared for my life. But, Justin was right there and he held me. I couldn’t get back to sleep, but he didn’t seem to care, even though he had to be up at seven for a radio interview. He sat up with me the entire night, just holding me, kissing me, reassuring me. It made me wonder why I’ve been doubting him, why I let it bother me so much when he would try to get my feelings out in the open. Having him know, understand…and hold me like that, it was probably the only thing that got me through that night at all. I love him, and while I know it‘s crazy, I’m positive that I could spend the rest of my life with him without a second thought.
After stretching for a bit, I finally enter the hotel and quickly make my way over to the elevators. I don’t waste time doing things like that. I don’t linger anywhere I go, for the fear that somebody might be watching me. Justin has been pushing me more and more to keep Eric with me at all times. He thinks I’ll be safer with him around, and I guess I would be…but I don’t feel right about having my own bodyguard. I don’t feel that I need one. I’m not rich, I have nothing to offer. Besides, I’m always with Justin anyway and his security detail couldn’t keep the both of us safer. I know what happened to us, and I know how dangerous the world is, but I still have some independence. When I try really hard, and focus…I can go out into the world on my own. Justin still can’t, but he’s a lot different. People know who he is and they’ll always want something from him. He’s always had to be on his guard, and the moment he relaxed about it a little…Shane came along. I know he’s a million times more paranoid than I am, and I really wish there was something I could to do change his outlook on the rest of the world.
I want to have fun with my boyfriend. I really want to go out places with him; to clubs, to restaurants and shopping malls without having to worry about how insecure he is…how insecure I still am. I look at other couples, like Siobhan and Scott, and I envy them. They have no fears, no worries, no regrets. They can go out anywhere, anytime…and maintain a perfectly healthy relationship. It’s really not fair. What can I do to make things right? What can Justin do? How can I convince him to stop being so scared? I can’t…because I’m still scared too. I guess we’ll have to continue to hide out in our hotel room, inside his tour bus, away from the public. Well…until we get over our anxiety anyway.
But it’s not like that’s going to happen anytime soon.
“I got your note,” Justin says, as I walk through the door. “You have a good run?”
He’s sprawled out across the sofa, clad in boxers and an old tee shirt. He seems relaxed, and I’m thankful. It’s apparent that his interview went well, and that’s a good thing for everybody involved. Smiling, I cross the room and plop down beside him. “I did.” I give him a kiss on the lips and he pulls me close to him. “It cleared my head a little.”
He sighs and rests his chin on my shoulder, while giving my stomach a gentle rub. “I’m exhausted,” he mutters. “The interview ran longer than it was supposed to, and then…they just ushered me into this room and had me meet some fans…” He trails off and sucks in a long breath. “Like, I know we didn’t schedule anything like that for today. I tried to tell them that too, but they told me that they’d had a contest and these girls were expecting me to go in and meet them…”
I could kill somebody right now. I don’t know who’s responsible for this. It wasn’t me, because I always make sure to note in Justin’s itinerary that there are to be no meet and greets unless they’ve been agreed upon between both parties. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what gives these people the right to think that they can just usher Justin around and force him to do things like this. Granted yes, he has fans that he needs to cater to. But there’s a time and a place for things like that. Things that get planned ahead of time, things that he’s prepared for…those are fine. But Justin can’t just be thrust into situations like this anymore. He’s not mentally able to handle it, and god forbid if something goes wrong…if somebody touches him or tries to hurt him. I don’t want to think about what the consequences would be. “Baby…”
“I wish I was stronger,” he tells me quietly. “I wish things were just…like they were before, you know? I want to be able to walk into a room and be the life of the party. I used to be great at that, Kerri.” He shrugs his shoulders in defeat, and I know his confidence issues are starting to kick in full swing. “But now I’m just a fuc'kin' mental case.”
I give his thigh a reassuring squeeze, telling him that I understand…that I don’t think badly of him. “You’re stronger now though, Justin.”
“They don’t know how weak I was before.”
He’s right, but I don’t know what to say. I realize that he’s probably been through far more emotional stress today than he’s letting on. While I wish he would drop the act, I also know that he neither has the energy or the patience to sob like a baby right now. All he needs, I realize, is for me to understand and sit her with him until he feels better. I lean into him again, and let out a little sigh. It’s silent for awhile, the only sound breaking the intense silence of the room being the occasional sniffle from Justin. I’m pretty sure he’s crying in spurts, but I wont turn to face him. I know how much he hates to cry in front of people, especially me. So I’ll be the good girlfriend and let him try to hide his emotions from me.
“Do you have fun with me, Ker?”
I still don’t look at him. “Of course I do.”
“You don’t have to lie,” he mutters. “We never go anywhere, we never do anything. All I do is keep you cooped up inside that tour bus, or in some hotel.”
“But I like being around you.” I look back at him, and sigh. “I don’t care where we are or what we do, as long as it’s with you.” I reach up and brush a few stray tears from his cheeks, before shooting him a small smile. But my words don’t seem to ease him. He still looks distraught, annoyed. Once again, I don’t know what to do for him…and I feel helpless.
“I want to take you out someplace.” He kisses me softly on the lips and runs a finger up and down my cheek. “I want you to have a good time, Kerri. For me, you know, sitting here is perfect. But I still remember the things we used to do together before…” He pauses for a moment. “Before it happened.”
“Justin, you don’t have to…”
“Trace called me yesterday,” he interrupts. “He’s taken Elisha out every night this week. I never make an effort with you Kerri. And you know, I want to…it’s just hard…”
I don’t know why he’s making excuses for himself right now. Of course I know how hard it is for him to go out in public. He’s terrified of the outside world. Even doing something for work is a major hassle most of the time, and I actually feel a hell of a lot more relaxed when he’s here, safe in the hotel room. He can’t have a nervous breakdown in here, and even if he did get distraught, I’d be here for him. There’s so much more that can go on out in the real world. Somebody could look at him weird, or say something inappropriate. They could touch him, try to take him someplace. He can’t put his trust in anything right now, and I know that no matter how many years pass, he’ll never feel completely safe again. “You’re not Trace,” I point out. “Trace wasn’t…,” I sigh. “He didn’t have to deal with what you did. He has no reason to be afraid of going out.”
He looks away from me. “He told me I’m not being fair…keeping us cooped up all the time. He says it‘s not healthy.”
I roll my eyes. I love Trace, I do, but sometimes he tries to meddle in things that aren’t any of his business. I know he’s a big part of this, and yes, I’m grateful for all of his sacrifices. But again, he wasn’t there. He doesn’t understand how hard it is to lose all of your trust in the world, and then try to build that trust back up again. Every innocent looking corner and side street seems like a horrible, terrifying place to people like me and Justin. It’s comforting to be in a hotel room, the door locked to the outside world, knowing that Tiny is right outside the door. Nobody can get to us this way, we’re safe. I’d like to call Trace right now and tell him all of this, while giving him a piece of my mind at the same time. But I know it’s pointless. The one thing Trace doesn’t need right now, is me screaming at him…so I’ll just leave it alone for now.
“Trace doesn’t get it.” I kiss him and rest my head against his chest. He tightens his embrace around me, and a moment later I feel the soft touch of his lips to the top of my head. “He doesn’t understand what its like to be scared of every little thing. I know a lot of stuff happened before he left, and I know he’s messed up from it. But Justin, he didn’t experience…you know. He doesn’t have the right to tell you what you should be doing when it comes to you and me.” I look into his eyes. They, like the rest of his expression, are full of pain, fatigue, and worry. It starts to make me wonder just how long he’s been struggling with what Trace said to him, and it enrages me that Trace would allow himself to put any more stress on Justin’s shoulders.
“But I want to be good for you,” he whispers. “I want to be a good man to you.”
I bite my lip. I know what he’s thinking, and it makes me cringe. “Justin…”
“I can do it.” A new confidence seems to take over him as he says the words to me. “Let’s go out okay?”
I shake my head. While I’m proud of him for wanting to take that step and make an effort to go out for a night on the town, I also know the horrible things that could happen to him if he does go out. I don’t want him to risk it right now, not when he’s been doing so well. “I think we should just rent a pay per view and get some room service, baby. You’re probably tired, and you have a show tomorrow…you need your energy.”
He licks his lips and stares down at me, a pained expression on his face. “You don’t think I can do it.”
“I didn’t say that, Justin.”
“Well what then?” His bottom lip starts to tremble, and a moment later, his face begins to turn a light shade of red. “I’m trying Kerri.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “God Justin, I know you’re trying. But it’s me. You don’t have to bend over backwards to please me. I told you I just want to be with you. That’s good enough.”
Story Tags: justinandtrace
