Bryant Park, 2:51 p.m.

It’s amazing how quiet it is. In the middle of Manhattan, only a fucking block from Times Square, just a small span of grass, a few trees and the world gets cut off. People sit in the grass or sit in the rickety wooden chairs and desks perched by dark green metal tables, reading, eating lunch, taking a nap, pausing in the middle of this hectic city for a moment of peace.

I wish I could find a moment of peace.
I’m ok, ya know? Like it’s not constantly on my mind. About once a day, when someone touches my shoulder, I’ll jump, my heart stops for a moment. I swear I’m getting better, it’s just hard.

I had a nightmare last night, the first one I’ve had since it happened. The first night I barely slept. We both laid in bed that night, quiet, watching movies. About four in the morning I looked over and he was breathing deeply, his hand resting on his chest moving slowly up and down with each breath he took. I watched him for an hour, maybe more. I couldn’t even think. I just watched him.

I couldn’t make myself think about anything, not about what had happened, not about my friends or family or silly stuff that I did when I was a kid. Nothing would make my mind float away into sleep. I couldn’t think, and yet I couldn’t turn my brain off enough to fall asleep.

I ended up getting up and taking another short shower and by 6 a.m. I was eating a bowl of cheerios and watching TV out in the main area. Teddy got up soon after and we sat there watching cartoons.

Since then I’ve been ok. It’s been easier to sleep with Justin there beside me and the dogs at the foot of the bed and Teddy and Tiny right outside our rooms. I’ve actually slept pretty hard most every night.

But last night I woke up from the hardest sleep I’ve had in a long time. I tried to scream, I tried to hit at everything. I was trying to wake up, but I couldn’t. I could see him on top of me again. And I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. He was going to get what he wanted this time.

Justin woke me up shaking me and before I even opened my eyes I hit him on his face. I didn’t mean to. As soon as my hand hit him my eyes opened and I looked at him terrified. It was just him, not…not that guy. I immediately started repeating how sorry I was, that I had a nightmare. He just stared at me and held his jaw and cheek in his hand.

He started crying.

His hand moved from his face to his eyes and he started crying, laying back against the pillow.

Then I started crying. It was a huge mess. I curled up to him and he didn’t even hold me. I could feel him shaking underneath me and it was horrible. Just this fucking huge ass mess.

Especially when Buckley came and stood right in between us, happy, tail smacking back and forth, trying to lick our faces.

It made us laugh, though. It made him laugh hard and he held me, wiped his face on the t-shirt I was wearing and laid half on top of me with his head on my chest. He fell back asleep quickly and we didn’t talk about it.

I really am ok. I just get jittery sometimes. Like right now I’m ok, even though I shouldn’t be. I’m alone out here in the corner of the park. Teddy is sitting at a table near mine, an opened newspaper in his hands, even though I know he’s not reading it.

I pull up my legs and cross them underneath me. I tug down on the bill of my hat, keeping my eyes lowered, looking down at the small bound black book in front of me. It’s a journal I rarely write in. Sometimes I’ll jot down notes or phrases I like or ideas for songs, but really I just have it here so if someone glances at me, they wont notice me looking around anxiously, waiting.
They won’t go, “Hey, there’s that Meredith girl lets go talk to her.” The last thing I need right now is someone approaching me, asking me about what happened, asking me why I look like hell, why I’m sitting out here alone.

I pull down on the sleeves of my hoodie even though it’s warm out. I’m sweating here with my stretch pants and sweatshirt, but I just didn’t want to look too flashy.

Teddy was nervous about me doing this, but I needed to come here. And sometimes he’s a pushover when it comes to me. Sometimes I think he cares too much.

Megan and I, we always came here, and nothing’s going to change that, no matter how famous I am. Bryant Park is our space. Hell, we sort of met here. Well, we got to know each other here. We met at orientation freshman year. She was at school for photography and I was there for dance. We met and she asked if I wanted to get Jamba Juice. I had never heard of it and asked her what it was. She grabbed my wrists and said, “Let a New Yorker school your southern ass into everything that is this city.” It made me laugh. We sat out here for four hours that day and just talked about everything.

I’ve never once felt weird or awkward around Megan, not even that first day. After that we would hang out in Bryant Park whenever we had the chance. We’d sometimes come here with Rex and whoever she was dating at the time and people watch and talk or study. But most of the time it was just us. It got to the point where we wouldn’t have to talk or do anything, just sit here and relax.

Unfortunately, this time I know I won’t relax and I won’t be silent. Megan knows the reason why I called her out of work was important and I hated doing it. But I just can’t stand it anymore.

I need a fucking friend. I need my fucking friend. I love Justin, but after my dream last night and after our fight this morning—yeah we fought, it was horrible—I just can’t keep putting everything on him. He worries too much as it is.

And Megan can come at this without that much emotion. She can help me figure out what I’m supposed to do with Courtney. I hope.

The fight this morning was about her. I think Justin had been holding it in, trying to be normal and level headed about everything. But this morning I had a call in spot for a New York radio station. I was supposed to be there in person, but after Philly we’ve kept promotion more impersonal. It’s not good for promo or for repertoire with stations, but most of them have been nice and understanding since everyone knows what happened to me, since it was fucking “breaking news” on Entertainment Tonight.

This morning Teddy and I couldn’t figure out how to get in touch with the station. We had the number wrong on our itinerary. Angie wasn’t answering her phone and we couldn’t find Courtney.

I haven’t seen her in a week, not even in the hotel. Trace says she’s been around, but I haven’t seen her. He said he stopped talking to her a couple days ago. It’s like she went missing in action. I know she’s still around. She rode on my bus here to New York, yesterday. I was with Justin and Trace jumped on his bus at the last minute and asked if he could ride with us because he didn’t want to be with her. I thought about going over there and spending the ride on the bus just me and her.

Maybe then I’d get some answers as to why she’s ignored me. She wouldn’t be able to run away from me then.

But as I sat there on the couch with Justin’s head in my lap, listening to him talk with Trace about something, laughing, them happy with each other—something I haven’t seen in a while—I realized I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I realized it was going to be a nice ride to New York, and I needed that. So I stayed put and kept running my fingers through Justin’s hair that’s starting to grow out a little.

I wanted to be with him. I wanted to come into the city with him, since this is where it all started. I was even a little upset when I found out we weren’t going to be at the Ritz this time. The Bryant Park Hotel is amazing and sleek and modern and awesome, but I wanted to be back there. I needed that. I needed to relive those happy moments with him when nothing in the world was wrong, when I found out he liked me back, when he…when he fucking kissed me on his bed and let me sleep there with him.

I needed that. Last night we had a good time at the hotel. Some of the dancers and the band were going out, but we decided to stay in. We just ordered some food and hung out in bed. He wanted to have sex, he wanted it so bad. I could tell by the small touches, by how every time he kissed me, he tried to deepen it immediately. He was looking at me in that way he always does when he wants me. He couldn’t stop biting or licking his lips.

But…

I just, I haven’t been able to. I haven’t had any desire or energy to do that, not with everything on my mind. I know it worries him. I know he thinks I’m now sexually fucked up because some guy came in my dressing room. I know he thinks I’m scared of sex now. And that’s not it. It’s everything, all the stress and the drama with Courtney being weird and Justin holding everything in. Maybe sex would make me more relaxed, but I don’t ever want to force myself to be that way with him. And that’s how I would feel if we did it, forced.

I want to forget all of it. But I can’t.

And I can’t keep ignoring it and she just can’t keep ignoring me.

Justin was right this morning when he yelled, “What the fuck does she think she’s doing?”

Trace finally got us the right number to call for the station, thank God. I didn’t need to be on bad terms with z100. They were nice and supportive on the phone. We gave out a few tickets to the show, and I took a couple fan questions and they were all really sweet. It made me feel better.

But when the interview was done I looked at Justin and he was fuming. He got everyone out of the room quickly. He looked at me and I knew it was on. He yelled and paced and clenched his fists. He told me that there was no going back now, that he had been waiting, hoping that Courtney would show up and be professional and fix this. He said he had wanted her to come back and prove him wrong. He said he had wanted to forgive her and ask for her forgiveness for my sake and for Trace’s. He said all he wanted was for all of this to be over with and fixed and for everyone to get along.

“I was willing to do that, Meredith! I was ready for it, to fucking fess up for the shit I’ve pulled. But not now…”
He said if she wanted to quit she should have came to me and told me, instead of going missing for days while I needed her around to help me. Then he told me I should call Angie and have her fired. Immediately.
I had been silent all during his tirade until then. And that’s when I got mad.

I yelled at him for, “trying to control me,” and, “make decisions for me,” and I didn’t mean to do that, ‘cause I know that’s not Justin. I know that’s not who he is. He’s trying to look out for me. Hell, if Trace just disappeared on Justin, I’d be mad, too. Of course, Trace would never do that.

If Trace disappeared we’d all be worried, concerned, calling the fucking police and putting out alerts. But we know Courtney is around. She’s just made herself vanish within the chaos of the crew and the tour and the hotels.

I defended Courtney.

Justin asked me why I’m always defending someone who never defends me. He yelled at me. He said he loved me, but that he couldn’t do this right now. And then he left.

I don’t know where he went. And I haven’t seen him for about 5 hours now.

I called up Megan panicking, crying, acting like an idiot and a fool.

All she said was, “You’re staying at the Bryant Park, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I can be at the park by 2:45 if you can.”

I start tearing up, sitting here, thinking about how awesome she is, how she gets me, how she’ll fucking drop everything to help me out. And she knows I’d do the same for her. I’ll stop a fucking show for her if I have to.

But she’d never ever ask me to.

I glance over at Teddy and suck in a breath. He nods a little at me and averts his eyes to behind me. I glance over my shoulders and see her with a scarf in her hair, a skirt, and cute little flats. She looks completely different from my frumped out state.

She rolls her eyes and approaches me, walking around the table and sliding in the chair across from me with two cups in her hands. She sets them down and lets her purse fall from her shoulder to the grass. She kicks it under her feet and keeps it there.

“So…” She starts, as if we had been in the middle of a conversation. “The fucker making my damn drink hands it to me and drops it. He dropped it! So not only did it hold up the colossal line of angry Jamba cravers, but I had to wait for him to make me a new one. Then, like, a brigade of slow ass granny tourist were walking arm in fucking arm while I was trying to cross the street and no one could get around them and I swear I almost hit one. Yes, today was the day that I almost became a granny hitter.”

She sighs, plops her hands down against the table and I pull my hands out of the sleeves of my hoodie and grab for my drink. Normally a story like that would make me laugh, but I just show her a tight smile and say,

“Thanks.”

I suck on the straw. The liquid is soothing and smooth and cold going down my throat, and I know it’ll probably make me a little hoarse for tonight, but I can drink some tea later.

I don’t look at her. I realize that I haven’t seen her since we were back in Atlanta. I haven’t seen her since everything happened. The last thing she needs right now is me breaking down on her. I know she wants her giggly, girly friend here to laugh at people and talk about old Saved By the Bell episodes. And I can’t give that to her.

“God Mere…” I move my eyes up to her and she’s staring at me, concern and worry all over her face. She looks like my mom or something, “You look pitiful.”
I let out a deep breath that I feel like I’ve been holding for the past week and I shake my head, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“All you’ve ever had to do, girl, is whatever makes you happy.” She bites on the end of her straw for a moment before sucking on it. This is our thing, Bryant Park, a small table, or sometimes the grass, and Jamba Juice in our hands.

Every time we do this I feel relaxed, happy, content with who I am and what I’m doing.

But right now I’m so fucking lost.

“It’s not that simple, you know it.”

She shakes her head at me and sets down her drink, “Yes, yes it is. Look, you’re gonna get in fights with Justin. That happens. But you guys have been through some shit in the few months you’ve been together. And I’m not blind and neither are you. You know this is worth it. You know it’s going to last. This is so different from any other relationship you’ve been in.”

“I know, I just…” I let myself be distracted by watching a guy talk on his cell phone in some language I couldn’t begin to tell you about. He’s walking barefoot in the grass. It kind of disgusts me and I’m not sure why. I used to walk in the grass back in Georgia all the time. I never wore shoes when I was a kid. But I guess here, on this trampled grass that everyone uses, that’s confined to this small area, it’s gross. It’s kind of how I feel, confined and trampled on, just laying there on the ground while every thing else happens around me.

I need to go home.

Hell, I just need to get away.

“I wanna give Courtney the benefit of the doubt, but I don’t know how to do that when she’s not even here.”
Maybe that’s what Courtney needed, maybe she just needed to get away, too.

“Have you seen her?”

“Dammit Megan.” I grab my head with both my hands and squeeze a little, elbows up on the table. I wish I could take this hat and hoodie off and run my hands through my hair. It’s a nervous habit, and I feel restrained now that I can’t do that.

“The last time she talked to me was when I told her I was going to stay on Justin’s bus, before the guy came in my dressing room. That’s the last time I looked at her face and she looked at mine and we actually spoke. I saw her a few times after that when we were being questioned and I saw her with Trace a few times. But I haven’t talked to her. Even Trace says he hasn’t talked to her since we’ve been in New York. It’s been two days and no one knows where she is.”

“Ya know…” Megan laughs and then sits back against her chair. She has sunglasses perched on her head, but the buildings have blocked most all of the sun and she pulls them off for a moment and places them on the table in between us.

“I always thought she was ok. She never personally said or did anything to me that made me hate her. But she’s a different type of girl, Mere. It’s like, she’s so concerned with everything other than what she needs to be concerned about. She’s the most high strung person I’ve ever met. And yet, at the same time, she’s not. It’s this weird mix of two people. It’s like she never knows who she’s supposed to be or how she’s supposed to act. When I first met her I thought she was this hard ass person who was probably nice, but wasn’t going to put up with any shit.”

That’s what I thought, too and I hated it. I thought it was going to be horrible. And then for like a week or two she was nice, still really strict and put together, but like, when we were in Miami she was so awesome and she was there for me and seemed to care about me. And then suddenly she stopped wanting to even be near me. I don’t know. I thought we might become friends somehow, and I know that Justin was an asshole to her, but she shouldn’t have taken that out on me.

‘Cause I talked and talked and talked to him about her, more than I wanted to. I fought with him over her. And now it’s like…maybe that was all a waste.

Maybe he was right.

“And now she freaks out over everything,” Megan continues. “And then when you thought you were pregnant she just acted so casual. I don’t know Mere…I just don’t know.”

“Justin told me this morning I needed to fire her. And I know he’s not thinking this or trying to make me feel this way, but I can’t help it. It’s like he’s saying either fire her or it’s gonna cause problems for us.” I feel my eyes welling up with tears and I can hear my voice falter.

“But I don’t want any man to rule my decisions that much and I don’t want to give up on Courtney. I mean, what if something major is going on with her?”

I don’t know why I’m so emotional over this. I don’t know if I’m just burnt out from touring or if Courtney leaving really has upset me or if maybe I need therapy for that guy coming in my dressing room. Maybe I am losing it.

“Then she should tell her boyfriend about it, Mere. Or tell you she has to take care of some shit. And Justin shouldn’t make you feel like you have to choose between them. But ya know, you shouldn’t even have to feel this way.”

I look at her and sniff. “What?”

“How long have you known her?”

“A few months.” I blot my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I’m not crying, but my eyes are watering and it’s making my contacts feel swimmy.

“Are you close? Are you friends? Do you have any close bonds or anything?”

“I mean, I try,” I look away and shrug ‘cause she knows the answers to all these questions she’s asking me. And I know what she’s doing, which is exactly what I need. She’s asking me the questions I’ve been asking myself. She’s just forcing me to spit out actual answers, instead of just pushing everything back. “But you know we’re not close.”

She leans forward and looks right at me, smiling, “Then why does it matter if she stays or goes? Why does it matter if she quits or is fired? You are done in a week. Three more shows and you fly back home. And you are off for what a month?”

“Six weeks.” I answer.

“Exactly.” She sits back and shrugs. “So what’s it matter? You can find another assistant. Hell, get Angie off her ass and make her travel with you. I could help out if you needed me to.”

“Megan…” I’d never ask her to drop her life to go around with me. Sure, my life would be fun as hell, perfect if she was there all the time. Sure, she’d be fantastic at it.

She’s a people person and organized and if she wants or needs something, she gets it. But I would never pull her away from what she loves, from this city and her internship. I’d never do that.

And she knows it.

“I’m serious.” She means it, too. “You know how awesome that would be for me to be able to travel around and take pictures of whatever I come across.” I smile at her and sip on my drink some more. “I get it, ya know? I understand that you care about her because she did come in and help you out when you started with Justin and your career was going nuts, but you don’t owe her anything Mere. You owe nothing to anyone. This is your life, your career, and your fucking talent that got you here. Nothing else. Not some pop star boyfriend, not an assistant, not Angie, not me…you did this, you’ve made it this far.”

Fuck, even though she’s wrong, even though I’d be no where if it weren’t for all the people around me, she’s going to make me cry.

I suck in a breath and laugh, trying to force myself from being girly about all this. “I guess I just hate that I feel like she hates me or something.”

“And why should you feel that way? You’ve done nothing to her, Mere. Nothing. And the fact that she makes you feel like you’re a horrible person, or that you are childish, fuck that. Yeah you’re silly and girly and we are dorks and like to have fun, but you are so fucking mature and you’ve been through a hell of a lot more than I bet she ever has. And you shouldn’t be sitting here crying over her.”

I look at her and her forehead is wrinkled, her mouth tight. She’s pissed off. She looks more like Justin than I ever thought possible. I thought she’d be more neutral about all of this, not as emotional. But I guess that’s not fair to assume she could come at this without a biased perspective. She is my best friend, and I know I’m not painting the best picture of everything right now.

“You’re getting riled up.”

“Well you’re my fucking best friend and I don’t like seeing you like this.” She chews on her bottom lip. Then for a moment, just a second, ‘cause Megan can always keep her emotions in check, I see a fleet glimpse of fear in her. “Some asshole attacked you, fucking attacked you…” She shakes her head and narrows her eyes. “And she just disappears?”

Justin said the exact same damn thing to me this morning. And I know he can be unfair about things and has been unfair with almost everything about her, but Megan has been pretty neutral when it comes to Courtney. And now, now that all this has happened, I kind of see that Megan’s right.

I do need Courtney now. I’ve needed her here. I’ve needed someone to keep this shit together, to make me feel like I’m not losing my mind. Yeah, Justin has done that. God, he’s kept me together this past week, but I needed Courtney, too. I needed her to take care of all the stupid, non-emotional shit.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should never have tried so hard to get her to like me and be my friend. But right now, in all of this, I honestly didn’t need a friend. I didn’t need one because I had so many around me; Shanda and Monique and Abbie and Trace and Marty and Justin and Megan on the phone every day, and Teddy even though he doesn’t talk much.

No, I needed an assistant. I needed her help.

And she wasn’t there.

Megan shakes her head and stares off in the distance, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ya know, that’s a bad time for her to have a pity party, because dammit Meredith, it’s not about her. It’s not. It never was. When you become an assistant to anyone, whether it’s you, Justin, Cher, the president, or even when you are a po-dunk secretary for a dinky law firm in bum fuck Alabama, it’s not about you as an assistant. When you take an assistant role, that’s what you are…assisting someone or something else. I’m not saying she can’t have a life or problems of her own, but if she can’t handle her own shit especially in this business, then she needs to be in another line of work.”

But Courtney’s never done this before. I honestly think she would have done a great job—hell, she did do a good job that first month—if everyone just chilled out a little bit around her. And not just Justin, Trace, too. Everyone has always been on edge around her and she put up with it and stuck it out with me. Until now.

“I feel like everyone is ganging up on her though, even Trace now. I feel like someone should be in her corner and give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“You’re too nice.” Megan laughs. “You’re way too nice. You know if this was any other fucking singer out there her ass would have been kicked to the curb long ago. I’m sure she’s a nice person. I’m sure she’s got shit going on. I’m sure that this is just one big fucking mess, but she’s gotta fess up to that. She’s gotta look at you and say, ‘hey, I’ve got shit going on and I know you do, too, but I need some time’. She’s gotta look at you and be honest with you about shit. I refuse to believe Justin’s bull shit that she’s selling stuff to the tabloids or talking to too many people about it or whatever his theory is this week. I don’t think she’s like that.”

I want to say, “yeah but we didn’t think Leah was like that either,” but I don’t.

“But she can’t just fucking disappear on you without an explanation. That’s grounds for being fired from any job. Any job. I don’t care if she was a fucking golden princess of personal assistants before she did this, she’d still be fired. It’s almost as if she wants to be fired.”

She has a point. You can’t just leave no matter who you are and what job you have. And Courtney’s a smart girl, she wouldn’t do this without a reason, I don’t think.

“She was never happy. She never seemed happy. Only when Trace was around. That kind of hurt, ya know? Realizing that I made her life miserable.”

“Oh stop it!” She rolls her eyes at me and I know she’s annoyed. She gets annoyed at me when I get down on myself. I guess it’s good to have that, to have her smack some sense back into me. “You did no such thing. She made her own life miserable. She did. You’ve done nothing to her Meredith. You have no guilt or blame in this situation.”

“Yeah…” I still feel so foggy about everything, though. And I still feel bad about everything and confused.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do. If you don’t want to fire her Meredith, then don’t. But you’ve gotta find her and talk to her about this. You can’t keep her employed if she’s not even there to work.”

I hold up my chin with my hand and uncross my legs that now are asleep and tingly. “And I can’t keep fighting with Justin. It’s like the point of contention for us. Every fight we have she’s somehow involved. And I hate that. It’s not about her.”

“No, it’s not.”

“But then I feel like a stupid, pathetic little girl by being like ‘oh my boyfriend doesn’t like her so I don’t either’ ya know? I don’t wanna be one of those girls that just hangs over her boyfriend and does everything he says.”

I stare at the table and run my fingers against where some of the paint is chipping.

“Meredith…”

“What?” I look up at her.

“Do you honestly feel that’s how you and Justin are? That guy? As much as I do think he’s an asshole sometimes, and he has fucked up a few times, and I’m still very cautious and protective over you around him, but he fucking loves you. He fights about this with you because he feels the same way I do. He doesn’t want you getting hurt any more than you already have. And he doesn’t want you doubting yourself or being depressed like you are right now. And when this shit happens, when that fucking guy got on top of you...that changed everything. It’s not just her annoying or ignoring you or making you feel bad. This is about her not being there when you need her the most. She wasn’t there for you, Meredith. She’s still not there for you. She wasn’t there to make sure everything was ok. She wasn’t there to get you whatever you needed. No, she got scared and she bolted. And that’s inexcusable.”

I suck in a breath and I can’t hold it. It doesn’t help. My chest feels heavy and my eyesight is blurring. God, I’m a fucking mess and my mind keeps running all these thoughts of everything that has happened and will happen and I hate it. I fucking hate it.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen with him and Trace. They’ve been better now, ya know? Now that she’s not around. I guess her and Trace broke up. But I can see it on Trace’s face. He’s fucked up over her. It’s just a huge mess and I hate it. I hate it so much, Megan. ‘Cause eventually him and Trace will probably fight over her again and I’m just so sick of it. I’m so sick of being in the middle of everything.”

“Shh, calm down.” She takes her chair and scoots over closer to me and rubs my shoulder for a second. I know she’d hug me, but I know she knows as well as I do the less attention we draw right now the better. The last thing I need right now is a tabloid picture with me crying in Bryant Park while my “gay lover friend” comforts me.

“You’re gonna be ok. Just worry about you, ok? Just worry about what makes you happy.”

“Having you here makes me happy.” She does a mocking “aww” noise and I force a smile in response. I sniff and keep looking down, trying so hard not to let these tears fall. “Justin makes me happy, Justin makes me sooo happy, Megan. And being on stage, but also being at home. Just being with my friends and being with my family and not worrying about stuff all the time. I just wish I could stop worrying all the time.”

“Then don’t worry all the time.”

“Yeah...” I don’t say anything and neither does she for a while. It’s so easy to say that, to say, “stop doing this” but it’s so hard to actually do it.

She pulls back a little and after a moment says, “Ya know…” I look up at her and see her turned in her chair looking behind me, smiling a little. “Courtney would never come after you. If you guys fought, or if something happened, she’d never seek you out to talk about it and fix it. She’d just run away like she has right now.”

“What?”

“Look.” She nods behind me and I look over my shoulder and scan the park for a moment until I spot him half way down the length of the park away. He’s staring right at us, even though his appearance is much like mine, sneakers, track pants, a zip up hoodie over his head. He’s wearing a hat, too. Tiny is right behind him and I can’t help myself.

I just stare back at him.

He looks perfect right now coming towards me. I know this is a risk. Neither of us should be out in the open right now in such a public place with all the drama that’s been happening.

But he doesn’t care. And that makes me smile.

‘Cause he’s coming towards me. He’s coming after me.

“He will Meredith. It’s not childish or girly to be concerned with him and his opinion about things because you guys have that type of relationship. You make decisions together. Everything you do affects him and everything he does affects you. And that’s not a bad thing. You know why?” I gulp and he’s closer now and I want him to be right here, holding me. But I know he probably won’t even touch me out in public. He might hold my hand, but that’s it. “Because he loves you more than anything in this world and that’s what happens when you’re in love.”

A few seconds later he’s standing right beside us. Tiny has pulled up a chair beside Teddy and they’re talking low.

“Hey…” He says, looking down at me as I look up at him.

“Hey…”

He doesn’t smile and looks over at Megan, “Hey Megan, how you doin’ girl?”

“I’m alright. Ya know, saving the world one pop star at a time.”

“Rough job.” He laughs low, a deep chuckle.

“Somebody’s gotta do it.”

He looks around to the left and pulls a single chair that was sitting alone in the grass and places it right beside me.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” He says, still talking with Megan, not looking at me. He sits down.

“I’m sitting on the side of the stage with Josh. I’m going to make him dance. It’ll be a fun time for all involved. Well maybe not for him, ‘cause he gets embarrassed easily.”

“That’s still going strong, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah, he hasn’t fucked up yet. So things are good.”

Justin laughs again and I still just stare at him. He hasn’t shaved and his eyes, shaded behind his hat, look tired and dark, but he’s still beautiful to me.

“You guys should come back with us tonight.” Justin says to Megan and then he looks at me. I just keep staring as he asks, “You think that’d be ok?”

“That’d be fun.” I nod.

He puts his hand on my back, just the tips of his fingers, spreading over the center of my spine in a circular motion. I exhale quietly and close my eyes for a moment. It’s a small touch, but it holds more affection in it than anything I’ve felt all day.

“Just promise we won’t get too crazy,” Megan says.

He keeps smiling at me, just this small half smile and he nods over to Megan, “I’m surprised Megan hasn’t beat me up yet.”

“What are you talking about?” She laughs.

He puts his hand on his chest and shakes his head, “You scare my guts, chick. And I know Mere probably just told you how much of a fucktard I am.”

“She actually defended your honor,” I say.

The serious look he had approaching us is gone. Now he looks playful, silly and smiles in the same manner, “Damn, you take this saving pop star thing seriously, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” She laughs and then looks at me and says, “But, uh…if you guys are ok…I’m gonna get back to work.” She can tell that right now I need to talk to him. She can tell that she’s helped me out and that I’m so fucking grateful for her.

But I still feel bad that she’s leaving, not because she has to get back to work, but because she knows I want to talk to Justin alone. I barely get to see her, I always get to see Justin. It shouldn’t be this way. It should be the other way around. I should be begging her not to leave. I should be telling Justin to give me some time and space with my best friend.

But I don’t. “I’m sorry.” I say to her as she stands up.

“Mere…” She shakes her head, annoyed at me again for getting down. “Don’t do that. I can probably get to the venue a little after 6, is that ok?”

“Yeah,” I nod and she puts her sunglasses back over her eyes and grabs her drink and purse. “Just call me so I can have your pass and stuff ready. I promise I’ll have my phone on me.”

“Ok. Sounds great! Bye guys…” She waves at Justin and comes over and gives me a small half hug. “Love you,” she says to me and I nod at her and say, “Thanks…”

I watch her walk away. It doesn’t take long for her to stop at a crosswalk and get consumed by a crowd of people. I turn back when I hear Justin sucking on the straw, the liquid couching in the cup that’s now almost empty.

“I’m sorry.” He says and I grab the cup from him and open the top to see if he drank it all. There’s a little left and I use the straw as a spoon. “I’m an asshole and I would have gotten you flowers if I didn’t think it would cause too much of a scene out here.”

I put the cup down and look at him, sucking the liquid off the straw. He’s staring at me with his pitiful, please forgive me stare.

It’s easy and it’s silly and maybe even a little stupid, but I fall in love with him all over again.

Megan’s right. No one else would come after me. No one else would seek me out to fix this.

I put the straw back in the cup and then look around for a second. I glance at Tiny and Teddy and they both have the place on lock down. I can tell by the look in their eyes and the quietness of their conversation.
So I go for it. I lean in. I kiss him right here, turning my head to the side so our hats don’t nudge each other. He kisses me back and I say, “I love you” against his lips.
I feel him sigh, and touch his jaw and stubble, liking the roughness under my fingers.

His hand is on my lower back now and he’s smiling. “We need to get to the venue soon,” he says.

I nod, pull back from him and look down at the table, “I’m sorry we fought.”

“Look at me.” He’s leaning in towards me again, his eyes are bright now, no longer tired or upset or dark. And he’s smiling at me, really smiling. “Can I tell you what I did after I stormed out on you?”

“Do I want to know?” I tease mildly.

“I called a few people, and ya know how I told you we should go on vacation?”

“Yes.”

He looks excited, mischievous, happy. And I haven’t seen this look on his face in a fucking week. It makes my world a little bit brighter and even though I guess that’s a pathetic thing to say, I don’t care. Megan is right, it’s not pathetic because it means that much to me. It doesn’t make me weak, it doesn’t make me dependant on him.

It makes us together. It makes us in love and that makes me stronger than anything I’ve ever known.

“Well, we get done next Tuesday night, right?”

“Yeah,” I drag out.

“That next Sunday, me…” He leans in closer, licks his lips in a sweet, yet seductive way and says in his quiet, soft voice, “…and you are gonna get on a plane and we’re going to this island, and it’s just gonna be me and you.”

I blink at him for a moment trying to register what he just said to me. I know he said he wanted to go on vacation. I had thought Hawaii or something, but he would have said Hawaii.

“This island?”

His hand links with mine that’s resting on my thigh and he runs his long fingers against my own, threading them together. “No security, no mangers, no assistants, no one…just us.”

“What…”

Like a private island? I don’t ask. I look at him and can tell that he’s done something special for us. He’s going to push all this bull shit aside and just be with me and let me be with him, be myself with him.

Part of me was afraid that after this tour, after spending every day together, he’d want a break, he’d need to go spend several weeks in some remote location without me.

But he still wants me with him.

His smile fades and he starts to pull away. “I mean, we don’t…”

I grab his hand so he can’t go anywhere and I smile at him. This is perfect. “Just me and you?”

His smile returns and he explains, “There’s apparently like a staff of 20 people, but it’s me, you, a beach house and tons of sand…” He leans in, his hand moves from mine and goes around my back rubbing me again. He kisses me quickly, “and no. one. else. No one else on the whole island, Meredith.”

“Will you teach me how to surf?” I ask. I don’t know why I care. I don’t know why I think of it in that moment. But I do and the look in his face when I ask it and when he answers, “Yes” lets me know that we’re going to be ok.
Suddenly I’m thrilled, excited, happy. We’re going away and I can clear my head and I can figure myself out, figure me and Justin out, even though I know we’ll be fine. I can figure out this Courtney thing.

I can just figure out what the hell I wanna do…with everything.

“For how long?” I ask.

His smile widens even more, “Until you can’t stand it anymore.”

I bite my lip and lean into him, staring at him, wishing we were back at the hotel, no hats in our way, just us. I’d give anything to lay on him right now, curl up against his body and just be with him. “Do you realize how romantic and perfect you are right now?”

“I’m trying to make up…” He pauses and cringes. “…for everything.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” I say.

“Neither have you.” It makes me feel good to hear him say it. I start to believe it, that this is all just a big horrible coincidence and nothing I’ve done or haven’t done has kept it from happening. And I’m going to be ok, we’re going to be ok.

“Come on…” He smiles and sits up from where he’s been leaning into me. “We need to get to the venue. Let’s go back and lay down for a bit and hang out, and then we can leave and do our sound checks and stuff, ok?”

“Ok.” I nod.

“You guys…” We both look over and Teddy is standing up and Tiny is looking around us. I follow his gaze and see a group of teenagers, 30 feet away at a table, their cameras pointed at us, taking pictures. “We need to get going.”

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Justin says, nodding shortly as he stands up. He touches my shoulder and then reaches his hand for mine.

We follow Teddy back to the hotel. Justin holds my hand and walks close to me. We don’t say anything. Tiny follows us and when we get to the hotel about five girls are standing outside of the hotel with pictures and cameras and sharpies. They squeal when they see us and I know Teddy’s about to tell them no autographs, but I tug his shirt and say, “its ok.”

I answer for Justin, but I know it’ll be easier now, to make these few girls happy, then go inside. There will be more of them when we leave for the venue in an hour, probably photographers, too and we probably won’t be able to talk or pause for anyone.

Justin’s quiet as he signs autographs and I take a picture with two of the girls. I give them their camera back and start to turn to follow Teddy into the hotel. One of the girls says, “I’m glad you’re ok Meredith!”

I know what she’s saying. It was in the papers and on Entertainment Tonight. The radio station this morning briefly mentioned it. Everyone knows what happened to me in Philly, even if it took a day or two for it to get out.
It’s something I didn’t think would ever happen to me and part of me still kind of thinks it’s some surreal thing that didn’t really happen. I don’t really feel changed by it. I feel like it was just the thing that pushed all these other buttons and made everything explode. It made everyone and everything just freak out for a day or two.

And now we’re working things out.

Now I’m trying to put everything back in place. And I wish, I fucking wish Courtney would let me know if she wants to be part of this, if she wants to be part of this puzzle I’m trying desperately to fix.

But Megan’s right, it shouldn’t matter because I’m not close to her, and we aren’t friends, and no matter how much I might want her to like me, my happiness is not dependant on it.

When I feel Justin’s hand link with mine, I smile at the girls. I never needed much to make me happy, and I don’t need a lot now.

I’m successful, my family’s great, my friends are great, and my boyfriend is so amazing, at least to me.

And when I smile at the girl and say, “Yeah, I’m ok,” I finally fucking believe it.