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

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

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

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

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

I should be writing this down.

“Is this seat taken?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Where would you go?”

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” she whispers.

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

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

I must be dumber that I thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you.”

“You so don’t.”

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

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

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

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

His eyes widen. “You remember that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you really feel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I meet his gaze. “And I’m not?”

He sighs. “I didn’t say that.”

I laugh. “Yeah, sure.”

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

“We were both there Trace.”

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

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

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

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

“Kerri?”

But I won’t look at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

********

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

But I’m not losing sleep over her.

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

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

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

And I will not allow myself to give in again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me you missed me, Justin.”

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

“Tell me,” he commands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my god.

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

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

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

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

“Justin…focus. Look at me and focus.”

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

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

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

She nods. “I know, Justin.”

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

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

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

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