Madison Fox

Justin Timberlake

Lucas Dawson

Jc Chasez

Benny Harrison

Stella Bradshaw

Keri Butler

Trace Ayala

Chelsea Clark

Liam Dawson

April 2010        

"I'm telling you man... these guys are fantastic. Just trust me on this, alright?"    

I arch an eyebrow in Jc's direction and frown. "Last time I trusted you, I almost ended up signing a stripper who wanted to sing show tunes."    

"That was a misunderstanding... and she wasn't exactly a stripper..."    

"Right." I mutter and shake my head as I follow him into the club.     

"I've actually seen these guys before... trust me, they're perfect." He grins as we find a booth in the back, Trace joining us several minutes later, three beers in his hands.    

Times like this, I really regret hiring both of them.     

Granted, I'm not going for any specific sound or image with the label, but I do have ideas of what I want and some of the shit they've brought me so far, ain't it.     

I've spent the last few months agonizing over signing another act, especially since Keri didn't exactly get the warm reception we'd been hoping for. I mean, she's done really well, but she hasn't achieved the same monster success as a certain brunette who disappeared on me roughly a year ago.     

But, we're not going to talk about her. So... moving on...    

Up to this point, Jc and Trace have presented me with pure crap. I mean... some of what they've pitched has been decent, but none of it's had the potential I'm looking for. And after the Broadway bound stripper disaster a few weeks back, I'm really beginning to question Jace's sanity.      

But hey... on the bright side, this new band Jace has latched onto is opening for The Killers, so even if they suck... I still get to hear some decent music tonight.     

It doesn't take long before the building is filled to capacity and it's almost impossible to see the stage from my seat. We slide out of the booth and force our way into the middle of the crowd, doing our best to keep our hats pulled low.     

I can make out four figures milling about on the stage in the dark. Two girls. Two guys. Interesting.    

The shorter of the two women disappears behind the drum set while the other woman and two men take their places at the front of the stage.     

Before the stage lights come up, a drum line that's all too familiar echoes throughout the building and soon after, a gravelly male voice rings out.

Listen to the wind blow
Watch the sun rise
Run in the shadows
Damn your love
Damn your lies
    

As much as I try to fight it, my stomach tightens. I'd promised myself I'd never listen to that damn song again.     

Good thing I'm used to breaking promises.

And if
You don't love me now
You will never love me again

I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain    

A female voice follows and I can't stop the sudden pounding in my head or the buzzing in my ears.    

There's no fucking way.        

I'm hallucinating... I have to be.     

The lights finally come up and my eyes travel over each face, stopping on the one in the middle. A curtain of dark hair frames the womans face, her green eyes brighter than normal under the stage lights.     

As the crowd erupts in a roar of cheers, she smiles and I shut my eyes as tight as humanly possible. This can't be happening.    

I can still remember what she said to me the last time I saw her, clear as fucking day.    

"I'm sorry but I just... I can't do it anymore."    

Her appearance on that stage brings just one thought to mind.    

She lied.     

"The Chain"-Fleetwood Mac

March 2009  

"Alright... we've got a double bacon burger, fries and strawberry milkshake. And... chicken tenders and hash browns." I smile at the young couple and set their plates in front of them. "Anything else I can get you guys?"    

"Nah... I think we're good." The girl nods, eyeing me a little too closely.             

"Actually... yeah." The guy says suddenly, pulling a napkin from the dispenser. "Your autograph." He smirks and slides the napkin across the table.    

"Now why would you want that?" I chuckle and roll my eyes.     

"Because you're Madison Fox."    

"Fraid not." I sigh, keeping the bright smile intact. "Trust me... Madison Fox has much better things to do than work here. But thanks... I'm flattered."    

"C'mon... you have to be her!"    

"Wish I was." I shrug and point to my name tag. "But, last time I checked this name tag says Grace." I give them another smile and make my way back to the kitchen.     

Ya know... that lie seems to get easier every time I have to tell it.     

The first few times, I stuttered and stumbled like some sort of idiot, barely choking out the "I get that alot" line, but I managed somehow.     

Now however, it rolls off my tongue so easily, I'm almost starting to believe it myself.     

"Gracie... I just seated another table in your section." The hostess calls out as she pops her head in the kitchen, then disappears just as quickly.     

I nod and head for the table, groaning at the sight of three people looking around expectantly.    

Hey... I said the lying got easier, not more enjoyable.    

"Hi guys... how we doin today?" I smile and pull my notepad out of the front pocket of my apron.     

"Fabulous." The shorter of the two men smiles at me, his brown eyes boring into mine.     

"Good to hear. Wanna start off with drinks or are we ready to go?"    

"Ladies first." He smirks and gestures toward the redhead seated next to him.    

She rolls her eyes and snatches the menu from his hands. "Cherry Coke, please." She nods and looks up at me curiously.     

The two men place their drink orders and as soon as I'm out of ear shot, I see them put their heads together and begin whispering amongst themselves.     

I know this was my choice, but there's a part of me that absolutely hates the fact that it came to this.     

I had every single thing I wanted and I walked away from it. It was fucking stupid and sometimes I still regret it, but I know it was for the best.    

I just wish that fading into obscurity thing was a lot easier than it's actually been.    

For awhile, the media was constantly up my ass. I couldn't go anywhere or do anything without someone following me and that's when I realized it was time for a change of scenery.     

My parents and Chelsea weren't too pleased with my decision to leave Chicago, but I had to get out. If I had any hope of living a life anywhere near normal, I had to go somewhere that the press wouldn't think to look for me.    

Bayfield, Colorado ended up being the place for me.    

Alright fine, I closed my eyes and pointed to a map and Bayfield is where my finger just happened to land.    

But, it's turned out alright so far. It's an insanely small town where the most exciting thing to happen are the high school football games.     

It's quiet, mostly full of small families and not a single person seems to care about the latest celebrity gossip.     

Unfortunately, the fact that this is a big high school town has left me open to get recognized quite often so I decided to use my middle name rather than my first and use my mother's maiden name. Maybe it's a little extreme, but it makes the lie a little more believable.     

I grab the drinks and carry them to the table, fighting the urge to roll my eyes when the three of them stop whispering as soon as they see me coming.    

As crazy as it sounds, I'd almost prefer it if they just come out and ask rather than whisper and try to decide for themselves.     

"You guys ready to order?"        

After a chorus of 'yeah' they place their order and within an hour, they're gone. I grab a small plastic tub from the kitchen and begin the menial task of cleaning off the table.     

Before I remove a single item, a bright pink flyer catches my eye and my curiosity gets the better of me.     

"The Ledge: Fleetwood Mac Cover Band- currently holding auditions for lead vocalist. No experience required, but it does help. Call Lucas for details or to set up an audition"    

A phone number is printed at the bottom and I can't help but roll my eyes. Some people will try anything.    

I crumple the paper up and just as I'm about to toss it in the tub with the other garbage, I spot the smudged ink on the back and immediately un-crumple it.    

"We know who you are (not to sound creepy or anything.) Doubt it'll happen, but we'd love for you to audition or come to a show some time. Give us a call. P.S- Keri Butler sucks."    

I can't help but giggle and roll my eyes at the last line.    

Alright, I lied... what these kids just did is much, much cooler than flat out asking for my autograph.

**************    

Why am I here?    

Seriously... why the fuck am I here?    

I was the one who wanted out of this life. Well... even that's not entirely true, I guess.     

It was never about abandoning the music. I just... I couldn't do the high profile celebrity bullshit anymore. When you get right down to it, it damn near ruined my life. I lost everything... friends, my house, my boyfriend, my record deal.     

I lost every single fucking thing that mattered to me and I blame a lot of it on the media. Because of them, I was forced to stay in a marriage that was a complete sham. Because of them, being with the man I loved became next to impossible. Because of them, Keri Butler was put on a pedestal and I was pushed off to the side, like some pathetic has-been.     

Honestly, the only good thing that came from all the media attention was my relationship with Justin. Sure, we had an incredibly rocky start, but our relationship became the most important thing in my life and I loved that man with every fiber of my being.     

I learned a lot from being with him and I don't regret one second of the time we spent together, but one of us had to face the facts and realize that we didn't belong together, and it just happened to be me.     

And I'm sure Justin is still harboring some serious animosity toward me, but if I'm really, really lucky... he's atleast moved on or found someone else. I'm perfectly fine with him hating me... I just don't want him to miss me.    

And yes, I do miss him. More than I thought possible, but I know it'll pass. I've only been out of rehab for three months. I guess it's only natural that I still miss my old life.    

Which I suppose is part of the reason I showed up here tonight.     

Some of the friends I've made here in Bayfield have tried to drag me to concerts, but I'm just not ready to be around that yet.        

Atleast, I thought I wasn't.    

I know that being here tonight and seeing this band play is only going to drive me crazy and make me miss performing more than I already do.     

Why the hell am I here?    

Sometimes, I think they should have locked me in a padded cell rather than rehab.    

But, I digress.    

I guess I'm here out of sheer curiosity. These guys are a Fleetwood Mac cover band, after all. That's like the perfect bait to get my attention.    

I spent hours debating over coming here, even thought about asking someone to come with me, but that would have been way too risky.    

It's easy to blow off the questions and curious stares while I'm at work, but I'm not so sure I could do the same here. The part of me that's hopelessly addicted to this life would break through the lie I've created in a heartbeat.    

So, I devised a plan and came alone.    

I decided to stay in the back of the bar, far away from anyone who could possibly recognize me. I'll sit through a couple songs, then I'm gonna bolt. I have no intention of talking to anyone, so my little plan is bound to work.     

It doesn't take long for me to grab a drink from the bar and plant myself at a table in the back as the first band takes the stage. They aren't too bad... a little too punky for my liking, but it doesn't really matter... I'm not here to see them.    

I frown and do my best to cover my face with my hair when I spot the red head from the diner the other day. A flash of recognition crosses her features and she excuses herself from her conversation.    

Shit, shit, shit.    

If I panic and try to leave, I'll only draw attention to myself. It'd be much easier to repeat the usual lie for the millionth time, get her out of my hair and book it.    

I fucking knew this was a bad idea.     

She strolls up to the table and grins at me, like she was expecting this exact situation. She extends her hand to me, the smile never fading. "Stella."    

I shake her hand and shoot her the most convincing smile I can. "Grace."    

"Oh really?" She smirks, her eyes traveling over my face. "Funny... I could have sworn..."    

"Nope... sorry." I shrug. Please, for the love of all things holy, let her buy this.    

"Well, isn't that a kick." She laughs and shakes her head, and that's when I notice her accent. Irish or Scottish, I'm not sure which. "So... Grace... who did you come to see tonight?"    

"Oh...umm... these guys, actually." I gesture toward the stage and she smirks again.     

Suddenly... I know there's no way in hell she's buying this. I didn't notice before, but she appears to be a few years older than me, close to her mid-thirties, if I had to guess. There's an edge of superiority about her, but not in an obnoxious sort of way. It's just easy to see that she's older and much, much smarter than I am.     

"Please tell me you're joking... they can't play to save their lives and they've stumbled through their lyrics... nobody's here to see them." She laughs and shakes her head. "So, tell me Madison...what brought you to our show?"    

"Well, I-" I bite my tongue and frown.     

Damnit.     I really am a terrible liar.    

"Curiosity." I finally mutter and roll my eyes. "I'm a big Fleetwood Mac fan."    

"So I've heard. That tribute show a few months back was a fucking disaster, eh?" She smiles sympathetically and sighs. "Gotta admit though... I'd fuck up standing next to Stevie too."    

"Christ Stel... what are you....oh."    

One of the two men from the diner appears behind her and something about him makes me want to laugh. Maybe it's the bed head, or the crooked grin that doesn't seem to go away, no matter his expression, or it could be the black T-shirt, neon pink tie and baggy khaki pants. I don't know why... but just looking at the guy makes you want to giggle.    

Stella shuts her eyes tightly, her annoyance with the younger man clear as day. She takes a deep breath before turning to face him. "What now?"    

"Lucas was looking for you.... I didn't think you were gonna jump her already." He grins, then leans around her to look at me. "They were watching the door for you, ya know."    

"Oh nice one, you little shit. Make us sound like a bunch of loons why don't you." Stella mutters before turning to face me again. "Alright fine... we left the flyer on purpose, obviously. We knew who you were the second we saw you at the diner... we need another lead and well... you've got pipes girl."    

What the hell am I supposed to say to that?    

Clearly, this woman is about as blunt as they come and I have to give her credit for that, but still... this is just... really fucking weird.     

I shift awkwardly in my seat, looking everywhere but at the two of them. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm... I've kind of... retired."        

"Retirement before 30. Must be nice. Wow Stel... that must make you fucking ancient."     

"Piss off Benny." She barks at him and rolls her eyes. "I can appreciate that... but we aren't looking to do anything big... we're a local band. We've all got other shit going... this is just for fun." She smiles as she leans across the table and pulls a napkin out of the holder. "It's really nothing special, but our old lead fucked off to pop out a bunch of babies, so now we're screwed. Anyway... if you change your mind..." She trails off and hands me the napkin with her name and number scrawled across it.    

"Yeah... yeah, thanks." I smile and fold the napkin before shoving it in my bag.    

"Enjoy the show, Grace." She smirks as the two of them turn to leave.    

Just before they disappear into the crowd, Stella pulls a pair of drumsticks from her back pocket and quickly raps Benny over the head with them.    

Well, that was... interesting.

As soon as the woman lying beside me begins to snore softly, I slip out of bed and quickly and quietly as humanly possible. I navigate the hallway effortlessly, knowing exactly which floor boards to avoid and which stairs to skip on the way down.     

It's almost funny how well you get to know your house when you don't sleep at night.     

I finally flip on a light when I enter the basement studio and ease down onto the piano bench. I've been doing this almost nightly for the last three months and it has yet to get old.     

Coming down here is the only time I can sit and really think, try to organize the countless thoughts floating through my head.      

I pull the wrinkled piece of paper out of my pocket and smooth it out on top of the piano. This thing has been folded and unfolded a thousand times, crumpled up into a little ball, thrown across rooms, dug out of the dozens of trash cans I've thrown it in and still, the only damage to it are the creases.     

It's damn near indestructible.     

I've tried a thousand times to get rid of it, but I just can't bring myself to part with it permanently. It's the only piece of her I've got left... how could I even think of getting rid of it?     

I'm not even really sure when the idea to put music to the words came to me, but one night, I found myself sitting here doing everything I could to work something out, and now it's bordering on an obsession.     

Unfortunately, nothing I've come up with yet is good enough.     

It probably sounds completely fucking crazy, but I almost feel like this is the key to getting over her, like if I ever do find the right arrangement, that'll really be the end.      

"That's really pretty."      

I jump slightly and halt my playing before glancing at the clock. I had no clue I'd been down here for almost three hours. I turn to face the voice and force a smile.     

I guess I should have known she'd eventually realize that I was gone. "Thanks."    

"Gonna use it for anything?"    

"Nah. I'm just screwing around." I grab the letter quickly and shove it in my pocket. She's the last person who needs to see those words. "What're you doing up?"    

"I woke up and you were gone." She frowns and slides her arms around my neck from behind. "You know I hate when you do that."    

"Yeah... sorry." I mumble, shutting my eyes as a face other than hers flashes through my mind.     

I knew it was stupid to think Keri would be any kind of substitute. Deep down, I knew she'd never be able to fill the hole Madison left. I knew, but it hasn't kept me from trying.     

And it actually worked at first. That first month or so, being with Keri was just like being with Madison. She was funny... I loved being around her, we got along great. I honestly thought I'd get past all of the bullshit and could really be happy with Keri.     

Then her album came out and everything went to hell. She went into fucking diva mode, making all of these ridiculous demands and doing everything she could to keep herself in the public eye. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be doing her any favors because her album isn't selling anywhere near what we'd hoped for.     

And I think it's all because of her attitude.     

And that makes me fucking sick.      

I should have walked away before I let it get this far, but just when I was ready to take off, she'd smile at me or crack some stupid joke and it was like being around Madison all over again.     

It's insane, but those moments are the reason I've stuck around. I miss that girl so fucking much that I'm desperate to catch even a glimpse of her, even if it's hidden in another person.     

Maybe if I'd gotten some form of closure, it wouldn't be so bad, but she left me with absolutely nothing. She completely disappeared and the only trace of her I have is that stupid song.     

I guess that's her MO. Dump me and write some damn song as an explanation.     

This whole thing is so her too. Pack up, and fucking take off. I should have seen it coming.     

"Why don't you come back to bed?" Keri smiles hopefully and presses her lips to my temple.    

"Yeah... you go on up. I'll be there in a few." I mutter as she releases her hold on me and leaves.     

You know what the worst part is? Keri doesn't have a fucking clue. She has no idea that every time I look at her, I'm picturing Madison in her place. She doesn't realize that I'm using her to make up for what I lost.     

She thinks I genuinely care about her. And under normal circumstances, I'm sure I'd feel bad about misleading her, but this time... I just don't. I don't care if she gets hurt. I don't even care if she ever finds out that I see her as a poor man's Madison.     

All I care about are those moments where she reminds me of the girl I fell in love with.     

Those moments are the reason I get out of bed in the morning, they're the only things keeping me going. And yes, I know that's fucking pathetic, but I just don't care.     

I don't really care about anything anymore. 

*****************     

"There's just.... nothing." Trace mutters and shakes his head as we stare at the pile of tapes in front of us. "I've listened to every damn one of these and it all sucks ass."    

"Keep looking." I shrug.     

On paper, hiring Trace at the label seemed like a great idea. Number one, he's my best friend and I like surrounding myself with people I can trust. Secondly... after his time as my assistant, then... hers, he's made some connections that could come in handy and learned a lot about the industry.     

It seemed like the perfect situation.     

But now, I've got mixed feelings about it. He's been trying for weeks now to find my next artist and either he's just not putting out enough effort or everything he's come across really is shit.     

I'm not sure which is the truth, but it's a lot easier to assume he's not really trying, get mad and yell alot. Plus, yelling at Trace gives me a chance to vent all of my frustration, so really... I win either way.      

"Dude... fuck that. I can't do this shit by myself. I'm all about staying out all night, but I'm worn the fuck out. Just last night, I went to four shows, then spent all damn night listening to demos. I need some fucking help."     

Guess I should have seen that one coming.      

I don't know why, but he never wants anything resting on just his shoulders. He always wants some kind of help, I guess to keep the screw ups from falling back on just him.     

"Fine. I'll get some resumes together and you can find somebody."    

"Actually..." He grins and I know right away, that I'm about to get into some massive shit. "I've already got someone in mind."     

Does the fact that I own this label not matter to anyone? More and more everyday, my employees are taking control, and telling me what to do, and it's getting real fuckin old. I'm the boss. I give the orders damnit.     

"I swear to Christ... if you're gonna try talking me into hiring some skank you're banging... you can fucking forget it."        

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, prick." He chuckles and rolls his eyes. "I'm thinking Jace, man."    

"On second thought... bring on the floozy."     

He can't be fucking serious. I mean, me hire Jc? What planet is this guy living on?     

I'm not saying Jace is a bad guy or anything, it's just... I don't think there's any going back after some of the shit that's happened the last couple years. We were back on ok terms for Madison's sake, and with her out of the picture... there's really no point.     

Hell... I haven't even talked to him since before she went into rehab.      

"No."    

"Why the hell not?" He demands and folds his arms over his chest.     

I never would have thought it, but for a short little shit, he can be kind of intimidating when he wants to be.     

"Just... because."    

"Nice J." He mutters and rolls his eyes. "Look... stop being a fucking girl for two seconds and think about it. He knows his shit, and you know that. Plus, we already know he's great at the whole talent scouting thing. Or did you forget that he found Madi-"    

"Don't."     

I know it's kind of stupid, but I have forbidden my friends and family from talking about her. Most of the time, they have no problem going along with it, but every so often somebody slips up.     

I don't know why, but I just... I can't stand to talk about her.      

"Fine." He sighs and shakes his head. "The point is... we already know he's got an eye for this shit. You know I'm right."     

Maybe he is right. But still... it's Jc.     

But then again... even I can admit the guy knows his shit.      

"Set up an interview." I mumble before turning and heading out of the room, not missing the triumphant, shit eating grin he shoots my way.

"Honestly Maddie, what's it gonna hurt? I say go for it."    

"What happens when I start wanting it to go further? What if I decide a few local shows aren't enough?"    

"Whatever's supposed to happen, is gonna happen."    

Ok... when the hell did Chelsea become the Zen master?    

When I called to ask for her advice, I fully expected her to be totally against the whole thing. She probably knows better than anyone just how good real life has been for me.    

I can think clearly for a change, I'm relaxed, and most importantly... I'm happy, I guess.    

But, I'd be a damn liar if I said I didn't miss being on stage. Nothing in the world can even come close to the way it feels to be under those lights, having everyone's eyes on you. Being in some small time local band would be ideal for me. I could perform and still do the boring average Joe thing.    

But, I'm terrified that it won't be enough.    

I don't know how or why, but I've got this gut feeling that after awhile, I'll want more.    

I'll want to record... to tour... do videos... television. If I go through with this, it's just a matter of time before I'll want my old life back.    

But, would that really be such a bad thing?    

In a band... the pressure wouldn't rest squarely on my shoulders and maybe that's what I need.   

Ya know what? I'm getting way ahead of myself here.    

"Maddie... you're a musician. It's not just something you do... it's who you are and without it, you're just... not Madison. Just audition. There isn't even a guarantee they'll want you. But if they do... take it for what it is. Have fun with it, alright? I think it might actually be really good for you."    

Maybe she's right.    

I'm over-analyzing this to death. It's a small, local band. It's really nothing major.     So, in the morning, I'll call Stella and set up an audition.    

Whatever happens, happens, right?

****************    

I pull up in front of a small white house and take a deep breath. I never thought I'd say this... but I'm nervous as all hell.     

And I really shouldn't be. I've done things a thousand times more nerve wracking than this. Hell... this is fucking cake compared to 90 percent of the things I've done in my career.    

I finally slide out of the car before quickly pulling my guitar case out of the trunk and heading up the driveway. The garage door is standing wide open and I immediately spot equipment stacked up along the walls.    

Keyboards, guitars, drum kits, amps, PA's, mic stands, it's all there.     

I step into the garage and can't help but smile at the posters covering the walls. Fleetwood Mac, Hendrix, Joplin, The Stones, The Beatles, Heart, Journey, Benatar. The faces of nearly every one of my favorite artists are staring back at me and for some odd reason, it kind of puts me at ease.     

"Ah.. you made it." I look up as Benny enters the garage from the house, his crooked grin firmly in place.     

"Yeah, looks like it." I shrug, awkwardly clinging to my guitar case for dear life. "So..umm..."    

"Look, as far as me and Stel are concerned... you're already in. Lucas is the one who wants the audition."    

"Oh... ok..."    

"Honestly... it's kind of pointless. He's got your albums, so obviously he already knows what you're capable of." Benny shrugs and plops down on one of the amps. "He's kind of... uptight, about this whole thing. He started the band and really wants it to go somewhere. Me and Stel are a little more realistic... we know we're a cover band... we know we aren't leaving Bayfield. But Luke's... well... he's... fuck, sorry... I'm rambling." He chuckles and rolls his eyes.     

"No, it's ok." I laugh and ease down onto another amp. I don't know why, but something about Benny reminds me a lot of Trace. "I do it too, so no worries. So you all live here?"    

"Amazingly enough. I'm sure one of us will kill the other two someday though."    

"You're here." Stella grins as she enters the garage and tosses Benny a beer. "Knew you'd change your mind."    

I am having an incredibly hard time figuring these two out.     

I'm sure their attitudes toward me could be boiled down to the fact that they're just outgoing, but they talk to me almost like they really know me. They aren't afraid to say whatever's on their mind at that exact moment, they aren't asking millions of questions, and they aren't pestering me about what's happened in the last few months.     

Honestly, the strangest thing about them is that they don't seem to care about the things most people would be jumping all over.     

"Alright... let's get this shit over with." A raspy voice echoes throughout the garage and I don't miss the way Stella rolls her eyes and frowns.    

I look up and damn near stop breathing at the sight of the man leaning against the door frame. Everything about his stance screams bored out of his mind, but his navy blue eyes are locked on me and I can only assume he's waiting for me to get started.     

All the anxiety I was feeling before has just multiplied ten fold.    

He's fucking gorgeous and so completely unimpressed with me.     

I snatch my guitar out of it's case and tune it, doing my best to ignore the fact that my hands won't stop shaking. I clear my throat and keep my eyes glued to my fingers. I know the three of them are watching me intently, but this will be much easier if I don't look at them.    

You like a man with a future
You like a woman with a past
Well do you really believe that
She said to faces in the crowd

Yesterday I was fascinated by somebody else
Yesterday I was fascinated by somebody else

And even if you did miss me
You never let me know
You prefer to be just a little bit
In and out of love with me
And not to scream and shout
You prefer to be just a little bit
In and out of agony

"Paper Doll. Nice." Lucas mutters and gives me a short nod.     

"You know it?" I look up, slightly stunned.     

Even some of the biggest Fleetwood Mac fans I know, don't know Paper Doll. So I'm just a tad surprised he does.    

"Course. I'm more partial to the older stuff, but that used to be part of our set. Unfortunately, it doesn't work so well without the female lead. You know Save Me?"    

"You're gonna be hard pressed to find one I don't know." I grin as some of my old confidence seems to flood my system.    

"Alright then, play it."

Hey you
The one with the laughing eyes
You, the one with the haunting stare
Well you
You have the power to hypnotize
I shoulda known better
I should beware
'Cos I have followed you
Done everything for you
But you just won't look my way
So come on baby and
Save me
I'm running for cover
Save me
Is it one or the other babe
Save me
It's time for somebody else
Save me
    

I finish the song and look up at Lucas to find him staring back at me, mildly annoyed.    

"Alright... you're in." He nods, finally satisfied. "We practice Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday."

"See... told you the audition was pointless." Stella smirks as Lucas turns and heads back into the house without another word.

*****************    

I hear a faint pounding on the door and quickly roll over, pulling the blankets over my head to muffle the sound.     

I don't know what kind of lunatic would be knocking on my door at seven am, but they can go the fuck away. I am in no mood for visitors this damn early.    

The pounding becomes more frequent and the volume increases steadily. Whoever it is, clearly isn't getting the hint. I throw the covers off and stop to the door before yanking it open angrily.    

"Mornin sunshine." Stella grins as she holds up a cup of coffee and bag of doughnuts.     

"What the hell are you doing here?" I mutter and rub my face tiredly. Only me, I swear.     

"Well... the boys are at work... I'm a complete insomniac and harassing you all day sounded like fun." She smiles as she pushes past me into the apartment and plops down on the couch.    

It's been one week since I joined the band and already... Stella feels comfortable enough to just barge in on me at the crack of dawn.     

Part of me finds it just a tad creepy, but another side of me is kind of thankful for it. I've met some really great people in the few months I've been here, but nobody's made me feel at home.     

I constantly feel like I'm on the outside and maybe it's my own fault. I've tried to keep my distance from everyone and everything and for some reason, Stella and Benny refuse to let me do that. They're forcing their way into my life and I actually don't mind it too much.     

Lucas, however, is a completely different story.    

It's not like he's going out of his way to be a prick or anything, he's actually been fairly nice. But it's like he's just... completely unimpressed by me. He doesn't see anything I do as overly spectacular or note worthy.     

Which in this really strange way, is kind of refreshing. As arrogant as it sounds, I'm used to people raving over me like some spoiled child. It's kind of nice to see someone treating me like they'd treat anybody else.    

I don't know why, but he's kind of intimidating. He doesn't say much and there's no denying the talent, but something about him scares the hell out of me and I haven't got a clue what it is.             

And the fact that I might be slightly infatuated with him probably doesn't help. But, I refuse to let any crushes or romantic type feelings screw this up. This has the potential to be really great for me and I'm not about to ruin it. I've let my emotions destroy things before... it won't happen again.         

"Can I ask you something? Stella looks over at me, suddenly dead serious.    

"Ask away."    

"Why are you here Madison? I mean... I've seen all those bullshit tabloid stories, but that garbage can't possibly be the truth."    

"Depends on what you heard I guess." I chuckle bitterly and roll my eyes.    

In the three months I've been in Bayfield, Stella's the first person to ask me that. But then again, she's also the first person I didn't con into believing I was someone else.    

I wouldn't exactly say she has a right to know, but... those things are what I now consider part of my past. For some reason,  telling her doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.    

I may not know her very well, but I know she isn't going to judge me or look down on me because of the things I did. I trust her and I'm not even really sure why.    

"A lot of people think they knew what was going on, but sometimes I don't think I even knew what was happening." I shrug and smile sadly. "Me and Justin never had it easy... even when we were married, it was complete shitstorm, but we got through it ok. Then, he started the label and signed Keri. I knew she was a psycho whore from day one... Justin thought I was nuts. We stopped getting along, he was never around and I was miserable. Somebody gave me a way out, I took it and everything fell apart because of it."    

"So... you just ran away then?" She asks, but it's not derogatory or condescending. She's just curious.    

"I put a lot of thought into it... I didn't just up and decide to take off. I wasn't happy... the people around me weren't happy and I needed a change of scenery.... so I left."    

"You're not happy here either."    

"But I'm not unhappy."    

"Touche." She chuckles and nods slowly. "Well... if it's any consolation, Keri Butler's album is the biggest piece of shit I've ever heard and it tanked, rightly so."    

"Yeah, it helps a bit." I giggle and roll my eyes. "But, it doesn't really matter anymore. I'm over it. I can't change any of it and there's no point in moping about it."    

"Are you really sure you're over it? I mean... it can't exactly be easy knowing some crazy broad kind of took over your life."    

"Honestly... I'm just glad Justin had somebody there. I know him well enough to know he'd make himself miserable without some type of distraction. If he's happy with her, more power to him."    

"You're the weirdest girl I've ever fucking met, ya know that? I mean... I can respect wanting out of LA, but I'm not buying this 'if he's happy, I'm happy' horseshit. No reasonable person thinks that way. You hate the fact that he's with her... you can admit it, it's not a crime. And honestly, I wouldn't blame you for wanting to gouge her eyes out with a spoon. From what I've heard... bitch deserves a lot worse."    

"I broke her nose once." I smile smugly. Even now, I can clearly remember the loud crack that echoed through the house when my fist made contact with Keri's face.     

I almost forgot how much I enjoyed that.    

And ok fine... I may not be thrilled that she's who Justin chose to replace me with, but atleast he had somebody. The idea of him broody and miserable is ten times more disturbing than the thought of him with someone else. Even if that someone is the psycho demon whore from hell.    

"And I'm sure you'd love to do it again."    

"I guess I wouldn't mind it."    

Stella smirks at me and nods knowingly. "We ever run into her, I'll be glad to hold her down for ya."    

Something tells me my trust in Stella isn't completely unfounded and I've got a funny feeling she may end up being the best friend I've ever had.

"Paper Doll" & "Save Me"-Fleetwood Mac

"So, exactly what do you want from me?"    

"Trace needs help with this scouting thing, and obviously, you're good at it. I just... I figure... you need a job, we need the help. Everybody wins, right?" I do my best to smile convincingly, but based on the disbelieving look in his eyes, I've got a funny feeling I'm not pulling it off so well.    

"Honestly Justin... I don't have a good feeling about this. I mean... it doesn't take a fucking genius to see that you and I have some issues with each other."    

I nod slowly, a little surprised at his words. Of course I have issues with him. The guy wrote a fucking book and called me out in front of the entire world. Who wouldn't have an issue with that?    

But, I really don't see where he's got the right to have a problem with me. I didn't do a damn thing to him. And, even after he dicked me over, I'm still decent enough to offer him a job. He should be kissing my fucking feet right about now.    

"Look... maybe it's not right, but I blame you for most of what happened with Madison." I flinch at the sound of her name, but he doesn't seem to notice. "You let Keri over shadow her in every way possible, and that's why she isn't here anymore. You pushed her down so far, she ruined herself and everything I fucking killed myself for. I'm not saying she's totally innocent and you better believe there's a big fucking grudge there, but had she still been your priority... none of that ever would have happened."    

"You're not some damn saint either." I mutter, a little too defensively.     

Everything he just said hits entirely too close to home and I'm not quite ready to hear it yet.     

"You worked her too damn hard... she needed a break and you just wouldn't let up."

"You're right." He says simply and nods. "But I know that. I know I added fuel to the fire. That's the difference between us Justin. I accepted it and moved on. You can't even hear her name without tensing up."    

Guess he noticed after all.    

"This isn't about her." I spit out through gritted teeth. "Do you want the fucking job or not?"    

"Depends. Are you going to actually let me do this and trust my judgement, or question every move I make?"    

"You and Trace have complete freedom to present whatever you find. But the final decision is mine. This my label... I decide who we sign and who we pass on."    

He nods slowly, satisfied with my answer. "I can live with that. We cool now?" He stands up and extends his hand to me with a smile.    

"Yeah man... we're cool."    

I swear to Christ, if this blows up in my face, I'm gonna hang Trace from the fucking rafters of this building.

***************    

"Look at this!" Her screech seems to echo throughout the entire floor and I can't help but cringe.    

Fuck.    

Why didn't I realize until now just how irritating her voice is?    

I glance down at the object she's just thrown on my desk and roll my eyes. It's not like it's the first time we've seen something like this. I really don't know what the big damn deal is.    

"Rolling Stone, Justin. Rolling Stone called me mediocre!" She cries and collapses into a chair across from me.    

My eyes scan the page quickly, certain phrases here and there jumping out at me.    

Mediocre at best.    

Over produced.    

Weak vocals.    

No emotion.    

Poor lyrical content.    

Over all rating: one and a half stars.    

The good people at Rolling Stone have deemed Keri's album complete shit, and I'm not the least bit surprised. Granted, I don't agree with them on the material or production, but they've pretty much hit the nail on the head with everything else.    

"Everybody gets bad reviews Ker. Shit happens."    

"This wasn't supposed to happen. You promised me..." She trails off, tears forming in her eyes.     

"Promised you what, exactly?" I snap and roll my eyes. "I promised you that you'd record an album... I didn't promise that the whole fucking world would worship you... I didn't promise that you'd get good reviews. Your album is shit Keri! That's not my fault. You're not a songwriter. Suck it the fuck up and deal with it!"    

"It's not your fault?" She laughs bitterly and shakes her head. "Funny... I could have sworn you were just as much a part of this as I was."    

"Yeah, I was. But you don't see me whining about it, do you?"    

She really is overreacting and maybe I'm being a little harsh, but she'll have to get over it. Everybody gets a shitty review at some point. A big part of being in this business is accepting the fact that not everyone's going to like you, or the product you put out.    

And yeah, I know that as a newcomer, Keri won't have skin as thick as somebody like me, but come the fuck on. She's acting like the entire world should be raving over her album.    

Sorry, but it just doesn't work that way.    

And you know what's funny? I used to hate the fact that Madison never cared what people thought or said about her. She would have read a review like that and laughed it off.     

It used to drive me up the damn wall, but somewhere along the line, I grew to love it. She did what made her happy and if other people didn't like it, that was their problem.    

It's times like this that I realize the two of them are nothing alike and never will be.    

"You're right." She sighs, quickly wiping off her face. "You're right. I need to get used to this stuff."        

Alright... I really wasn't expecting that.    

"Yeah... well... it takes time. Don't worry about it." I mutter and shrug.     

And there's yet another difference staring me straight in the face.     

There's no fucking way Madison would have backed down that easy. She would have launched into some insane tirade that ended with both of us screaming till we were blue in the face and still wouldn't reach any type of solution.     

As crazy as it sounds, I even miss fighting with her.     

Whether we were fighting, just bickering or actually getting along, there was always something behind it.     

When I'm arguing with Keri, I just don't feel anything. Hell, even when I'm getting along with her, I don't feel anything.    

Maybe that's the biggest problem. I don't feel anything with her. Period.     

"Let's get out of here." She says suddenly and rises from her chair. "We haven't gone out in awhile."    

And there's a reason for that, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her, I guess.     

The idea of being seen anywhere in public with Keri scares the hell out of me. I know for a fact, there'll be some kind of mob following our every move and whatever pictures they get, will end up all over the damn place.    

I may not know where Madison is or what she's doing, but there's always a risk of her seeing something like that.     

Obviously, she doesn't give two shits what I do, otherwise she'd still be here, but I do care. I care enough to still hold out some hope that seeing me with Keri would bother her.    

And maybe it's further proof of my insanity, but to this day, I don't want to hurt her.    

All the shit that girl's done to me and I'll still go out of my way to keep from upsetting her. I really am fucked up.     

"Yeah... fine." I mutter and follow her out of my office.    

Within minutes, we're in my car, pulling out of the lot and I can't help but roll my eyes as she flips through radio stations, stopping just long enough to pick up a note or two of whatever's playing.     

She finally settles on a station and my shoulders tense immediately at the sound of the voice pouring out of the speakers.

I'm confusing as hell
I'm north and south
And I'll probably never have it all figured out
But what I know is I wasn't meant to walk this world without you    

"Well... we can turn that crap off." Keri scoffs and reaches for the dial again, but I quickly push her hand away.    

"Leave it."    

"Oh come on Justin. This song sucks."    

"I said leave it." I reply through gritted teeth.    

"Fine. Torture yourself." She mutters angrily and folds her arms across her chest.    

Of course she wouldn't want to listen to anything Madison's ever done. I'd imagine it's a pretty big slap in the face for her, but I really just don't care.     

And she couldn't even begin to understand what this song would mean to me. I don't think I even understood myself until just now.     

Madison played this song for me the night she told me she wanted a divorce. And at the time, I guess I was too damn mad to really hear the words, to hear what she was really trying to say.     

It doesn't matter where she is, if we're together or not, she still loves me.     

Maybe it's wishful thinking, but some part of me honestly believe that she'll be back someday.

"Maybe"-Kelly Clarkson

Four months.    

Four months of almost constant practices, bickering over set lists and arrangements. Four months with three of the best people I've ever known.     

The last four months have led me here, backstage at some dive bar, minutes away from taking the stage.    

And I'm nervous as all hell.    

Honestly, this should be a walk in the park compared to things I've done in the past, but that knowledge doesn't seem to keep my hands from shaking.    

I've played countless bars and clubs, just like this one, but I can't remember ever being this nervous. I don't think I ever really allowed my nerves to take over.    

I was always so determined to just go out there and blow people away. I was working toward something then, but now... now it's just something to do. There's no goal behind it.    

It's just for entertainment.    

"Ready?" Lucas shoots me a tight smile as he slides the strap of his guitar around his neck.         

"Course." I shrug, doing my best to match some of his confidence.    

"It'll be fine... this is our regular crowd. Not real sure how they'll feel about you though... they were a little partial to Leslie."    

"Oh nice one smartass." Stella mutters and rolls her eyes, her ever present drum sticks inching toward Lucas's head.     

I swear to god, it's damn near impossible to figure this guy out.     

I know none of my accomplishments matter to him, which is fine by me, but the way he doubts my ability sometimes, really pisses me off.    

He may not give a shit that I've won a handful of awards and sold millions of albums, but I can sing my ass off and he knows it, yet refuses to acknowledge it.    And I haven't got a clue why.    

Stella's told me a thousand times that he has every one of my albums and at one point, even had a rather large poster of me hanging in his room. But, he treats me like I'm barely good enough to play in his cover band.    

But the really weird thing is... we get along great most of the time.     

He's the biggest smartass I've ever known, insanely talented, smart as hell and drop dead gorgeous on top of that.    

And alright fine, his indifference toward my talent bugs the shit out of me because I have a huge crush. I can't even explain it, but I want to impress him. I want him to think I'm the most amazing thing to ever walk the face of the earth.    

Basically.... I want him to treat me the way Justin did when we first got together.    

I shake my head at that thought and try to focus on what's happening around me. Now is so not the time to start thinking about Justin.    

"People... can we chill for two seconds? We all know everyone is here to see me. The rest of you may as well not even walk out on stage." Benny grins as Stella pushes him roughly into the wall.    

A second later, we're given our cue and the four of us file out onto the stage. I swallow hard as I approach the mic stand in the center of the stage and try to clear my head.    

It really hasn't been that long since I performed. There's no reason to be this nervous. Plus, it's not like the pressure is solely on me. There's three other people here to take some of the focus and I am beyond grateful for that.    

But, I'm still terrified that I'm going to fall on my face, that these people won't think I'm good enough. And in that case, having three other people involved doesn't seem so great.    

It's almost kind of funny how you can know exactly what you're capable of, but still doubt yourself when you're actually in the moment.     

The stage lights come up and I'm blinded for a split second. Stella begins the drum intro for Tusk and I swallow the lump in my throat.     

I can't see them, but I know every set of eyes in the building are on me and my hands shake as I grip the microphone tightly. The room begins to spin around me and I quickly look down at my feet, fighting the urge to throw up.     

Lucas gives me a small nudge before retreating to his side of the stage and beginning the song. It's then that I look up to find him staring at me, grinning from ear to ear.    

I expected it to be one of those condescending, I knew you'd fail kind of smiles, but even I can see there's nothing but encouragement behind it.     

If I really want to impress him, now would be the time to step up and do it.

Why don't you ask him if he's going to stay?
Why don't you ask him if he's going away?
Why don't you tell me what's going on?
Why don't you tell me who's on the phone?
Why don't you ask him what's going on?        

My voice seems to echo Lucas's and within seconds, I can see various heads in the crowd bobbing along with the beat, mouthing the words in synch with the two of us.       

And just like that, I remember exactly what it's like to be on stage in front of thousands of people, hearing them sing along with me. It's a high like no other and it seems to have hit me full force within a matter of seconds.         

My nerves and anxiety have vanished completely.     

I'm back.

***********************    

"Seriously... that was fantastic. Best local show I've been to in forever."    

"Thanks." I smile and excuse myself from one of our newfound fans and crane my neck, searching the bar as quickly as I can.    

As soon as we stepped off the stage, we all piled our equipment into the van, then headed back into the bar to stay and watch the other bands.    

I expected us to hang out together, but apparently the routine of this sort of thing is completely lost on me.     

Stella ran into some of her friends from work, Benny was trying his hand at seducing some of the drunk groupie chicks and Lucas... who the fuck knows where he went, but I am bound and determined to find out.     

I'm sure any normal and reasonable person would have blown off the little exchange we had on stage as friendly encouragement, and maybe it's the crazy chick with a crush in me coming out, but I've got a funny feeling there was something else behind it.     

Even though we get along and seem to work fairly well together, I know Lucas fully expected me to choke up there. From day one, it's been pretty obvious to me that he didn't want me in this band.     

Maybe it was all about saving his own ass. Maybe he knew that if I choked, the whole band would look bad.     

I finally spot him at the bar and can't help but chuckle at the sight of some hammered floozy talking his ear off. She must be pretty out of it or is entirely too stupid to see the utterly bored look etched on his face and the way he rolls his eyes in annoyance every few seconds.    

I slide onto the bar stool next to him and he immediately turns to face me, a relieved smile planted on his face. It doesn't take long for Drunky McSlut to get the hint and she disappears into the crowd.    

 "Thanks. I was starting to think I'd have to buy a dude a drink to get her to back the fuck off."    

"Eh... it's nothing. So... the show went well."    

Not to sound cocky or anything, but once I was able to get over my nerves, we kicked some major ass up there and I defy anyone to tell me otherwise.     

The four of us had a blast and it was easy to see that the crowd was into it. All in all... things went about as well as humanly possible.     

"Yeah, definitely." He nods slowly, taking a long sip of his beer.     

"Hi... I'm Liz." A pretty redhead approaches us, a bright smile on her face as she stares at Lucas. "Can I..." Her eyes shift to me a second later and a slight frown crosses her features. "Umm... never mind. Good show." She shoots him another fleeting smile and takes off, much like the drunken blonde who was here a few minutes ago.     

"You seem to be quite the chick repellant. I'll have to remember that." He chuckles and shakes his head.     

"Call it a gift." I shrug. "So anyway... I umm... I wanted to thank you."    

"For?" As usual, he looks and sounds bored out of his mind, and maybe even a little confused.    

"Well... I was choking up there... obviously." I mutter and roll my eyes at my own stupidity. "And you kind of... pulled me out of it."    

"You were fine." He waves me off and turns to order another beer. "It was the first show... of course you were nervous. Happens to everybody."    

So much for thinking there was more to it, I guess.    

"Shit." He sighs and shakes his head. "You're one of those people who analyzes shit to death, aren't you?"    

"No." I mumble. This is one of those times where the fact that I'm a horrible liar is going to bite me in the ass, I just know it.     

"Yeah, you are." He laughs quietly to himself. "Alright look... yeah, you were choking, which seems to confirm your reputation. But the thing is... this is my band Madison. Everything I do is for this band. And ok fine... playing some shitty bar in some shitty little town may not mean much to you, but it does to me. I'm trying to build something here and I can't afford mistakes."    

"Excuse me?"    

Alright... I'm pissed. There's no other way to describe it.    

I let myself think we were getting along, that maybe somewhere along the line we'd be friends.    

Shows how much I fucking know.    

"I'm not trying to be a prick... I'm being honest." He says simply and shrugs. "Benny and Stella are about as motivated as fucking rocks, so it all falls back on me. If this is gonna go anywhere, I've got to work for it. And as good as you are... I see no point in you being here. You had the kind of shit I'm working toward, and you walked away from it."     

"Ever think maybe I had a reason for leaving?"    

"And I'm sure you do." He nods slowly. "But... that's not the point. Honestly Madison... if you want that life back... if you're ready to go back there... I have absolutely no problem with you. But...if this is just something for you to do, something to fuel your ego with... don't waste my time or theirs."    

"I do not fucking get you." I fume at him. "One minute we're all cool and the next you're tearing me down, like I'm not fucking good enough."    

He chuckles softly and shakes his head. "I'm not trying to tear you down... it's call honesty Madison. The problem is... you're too fucking good. I would sell my soul to keep you in this band... but I'm smart enough to know that you don't want the same things I do, and it pisses me off that you're hanging around, building this reputation with us, but when push comes to shove... you're not gonna stick it out."    

"What if I am?" I blurt the words out before I even have time to think about it.    

"Seriously?" He arches an eyebrow at me and I bite down on my lip.    

Shit.    

I hadn't put much thought into this.    

I mean, yeah... I'd considered the idea that possibly, this could lead to something more, but it never seemed realistic, especially when Stella and Benny both pointed out the fact that they didn't think it was going anywhere either.     

But, would it really be that awful?    

Obviously, my past experience with labels and the press would come in handy. We wouldn't be going into this blindly like so many bands do. I've got plenty of contacts to get us a head start.    

And, I can deny it as much as I want, but being on that stage tonight kind of put the fire back in me. It all came back to me the second I sang that first line. I didn't want it to end.     

And... agreeing to this would definitely improve things with Lucas.     

Not that he's the driving force or anything, but it'd definitely be one of the benefits. And call me crazy, but I'm not really seeing a downside to any of this yet.    

"Yeah. Seriously." I nod and he smiles brighter than I've seen in the time I've known him.    

"Alright then. Hope you don't have plans for the days between practices, cause you and I are going to start writing."    

"You write?"    

"A little bit." He shrugs. "We'll start tomorrow. Once we've got some decent shit, we'll start booking more shows. The radio station is holding a battle of the bands in a couple months for the opening slot at The Killers show."    

I nod slowly, letting his words sink in. I'm really doing this. I'm really starting this whole thing all over again.    

Fuck, I really should have been sent to the psych ward, not rehab.

"Tusk"-Fleetwood Mac        

"Well?" Trace shoots me a hopeful look as he stops the cd and turns around.    

"Oh come on man... that was fucking awful."    

He clenches his teeth immediately and glares at me. "No, it's not."    

"Yeah, it is. It sounds like that fucking Fall Out Boy, whiney, emo bullshit. There's nothing original about it. I'm not gonna put out more of the same shit that's already out there man. There's no point." I sigh and shake my head.        

I know he's trying, and I do feel pretty shitty for dumping on him, but we've been over this a thousand fucking times.     

I want something different, something that's going to catch people's attention. I already tried putting out an artist who wasn't completely original and that's blown up in my face, so I think it's time for a new approach.    

"You know what your problem is? You're too wrapped up in your own bullshit. She left dude... be a man and get the fuck over it. Write a song about it... shit, I don't know. Just stop being a pathetic douche. You're really starting to piss me off."    

"Gee Trace, tell me how you really feel." I mutter and roll my eyes.    

I know there's a lot of truth behind what he's saying, but I refuse to admit that to him. My attitude toward work has nothing to do with my personal life.    

And honestly, it's been atleast a month or so since I even thought about Madison. It wasn't even really a conscious effort to not think about her. It was a slow progression, really.     

I thought about her a little less each day until finally, I stopped completely.     

And it was going really well, until about five minutes ago.    

Thanks a fucking lot, Trace.     

"Don't even sit there and act like you're dealing with that shit, cause you're not. Nobody's allowed to fucking talk about her... you've turned into some kind of dick head zombie... nobody does anything right in your eyes. It's like somebody fucking died around here and I'm god damn tired of it." He finishes and lets out a breath, shaking his head quickly. "There I said it... and don't look at me like I just ran over your damn dog. You needed to hear that shit."        

He's right. I know he's right. But what the hell am I supposed to do about it?    

It's not like I can just pick up like nothing happened and go on with my life. I'm still bitter as hell and I don't see myself getting over it any time soon.     

And dicking around with Keri isn't helping anything. If I was smart, I'd cut her loose and take the time to really get over Madison and her bullshit, but the idea of being alone makes me sick to my stomach.    

Keri offers a distraction, granted it's not much, but it's something. If I give it up, it's going to give me entirely too much time to sit and process everything and I'm just not up for it.     

It's easier to just brush it off and ignore it. Hey... I never said I was smart.     

"And what do you suggest I do about that?"    

"Get trashed with me, of course." He grins. "We'll go grab Jace, then go out and stir up some shit."    

"And what about Keri?"    

"Fuck her." He shrugs. "Oh wait... I believe you already did that."    

"Cute." I roll my eyes as he smirks at me.     

"Seriously man... who gives a shit what she thinks? It's not like you're that into her."    

"Good point." I nod and slide out of my seat. "Let's go."     

"Sweet." Trace grins as we head out of my office.     

Maybe it's time I started living my life again, the way I want to live it. Like Trace said... it's not like I really give a shit what Keri thinks. I'm free to do whatever the hell I want, if she doesn't like it, she can kiss my ass.     

I'm done bending over backwards for these chicks.

******************    

I open my eyes and frown at my unfamiliar surroundings. Trace's plan of stirring up whatever shit we could seems to have gone swimmingly. I'm not sure yet if that's a good or bad thing.     

I turn my head to the left and roll my eyes at the brunette passed out next to me. It's not like this is a new situation for me, but it's been so damn long since I've been here, been this guy.     

But the weird thing is... I don't feel guilty like I thought I would. I'm not proud of it, but I don't have that sense of regret that I was so sure would hit me.     

When you get right down to it, I just cheated on my girlfriend, if that's what you want to call her, and I don't feel the least bit bad about it. How shitty is that?    

I know I'm being a prick about this. I'm using her to fill a gap that was left by someone else, and I know it's wrong, but I don't feel bad about it.    

And I should. I should feel like the world's biggest asshole. I should hate myself. I should be thinking of ways to tell her the truth, that I feel absolutely nothing for her.    

But, I'm not. I don't care about her enough to even be honest with her.     

And really, why should I?     

I could be wrong, but I can't help thinking that she sees me as some kind of consolation prize. It took me a long time to figure it out, but I know her main goal was to beat Madison in whatever way she could.    

Unfortunately, she's arrogant enough to think she's won. After all, Madison turned tail and ran while Keri's still here, with me no less. I'm sure she thinks she's on top of the fucking world, but she's dead ass wrong.    

If anything, she's losing more and more everyday.     

I slide out of bed, pulling on my clothes at the speed of light and hauling ass out of the apartment, praying that girl doesn't wake up before I'm a safe distance away. I reach my house in record time and can't help but groan at the sight of Keri's car in the driveway.   

She'd been doing some promo in New York the last few days. I guess she got home late last night, or maybe this morning.     

I trudge into the house and up the stairs, ignoring the dogs as they yap at my heels, following me the whole way to my room. I push the door open gently and am a little surprised to find Keri seated in the center of my bed, flipping channels.    

I'd figured, hoped really, that she'd be asleep and I could just crash without having to explain anything.    

"Where the hell have you been?" She turns to face me, eyes narrowed into small slits. "I called you a thousand times."    

I yank my phone out of my pocket and roll my eyes at the five missed calls message flashing across the screen. "You should check your math."    

"Don't get smart with me Justin... I am so not in the mood."    

"Alright... who shit in your wheaties this morning?" I chuckle as I slide into bed. I really am a dick for finding her irritation amusing, but... I've said it before, and I'll say it again... I don't give a fuck.    

"Well... let's start with the fact that I'm home two days early, then I come back to an empty house after the beyond shitty three days I've just had."    

"Oh yeah?"    

"Yes. Every single one of those interviews was a joke. Not once was I asked about the album... or when I'll be able to tour... all they wanted to know about was you and her." She rolls her eyes as she spits the words out. "Why is this happening? I swear, it's like the whole damn world is mourning her or something, it's ridiculous."        

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"    

"Apparently the loss of her talent is devastating." She snorts and rolls her eyes again. "And they seem to blame me for her disappearing act. I showed the world what a hack she was and I'm the bad guy."    

"Oh, the Fleetwood Mac thing?"    

"Yeah... one of the DJ's asked me why I stole her thunder." She shakes her head and sighs loudly. "No more interviews for awhile, alright? I don't deserve that crap. Anyway... where the hell have you been?"    

"Out with Jc and Trace."    

"Oh that's just fantastic." She mutters darkly. "First I spend three days hearing how I'm a Madison Fox clone, and a shitty one at that, then I come home to find out that you're spending even more time with her fan club. Great."    

"Keri... chill out and get some sleep. You're just tired."    

I'm not getting into this with her. No fucking way.     

I know the fact that I let her run her mouth as much as she wants is a big part of the problem, but I just don't have the energy to fight her on it. She can say whatever the hell she wants, but I know it's bullshit and that's all that matters.     

"Yeah... you're right." She sighs and curves her body to fit mine. "I'm sorry."    

"Don't worry about it." I mumble and shut my eyes.     

"I love you." She murmurs and presses her lips to my forehead. Within a matter of minutes, she's fast asleep and my eyes shoot back open.    

Now would be the perfect time for the guilt to kick in, but it's not coming.     

I've let this girl fall in love with me and I still don't give a shit about the things I'm doing to her, the way I'm using her. At first, I thought I didn't know why I was doing this, but the answer is suddenly clear as fucking day.    

She isn't Madison. And it's become impossible for me to care about anyone but Madison.       

"All I'm saying is, it seems like our best option, ya know? I hate to ask you to do it, but if we don't win this battle of the bands thing, we're fucked." Lucas sighs and shakes his head. "But, if you don't want to do it, it's cool. Maybe we'll get lucky and actually win, and I know there'll be a ton of label people at the Killer's show."    

"No, it's fine. I'll see what I can do. Just don't get your hopes up or anything. Things with him didn't end on such great terms."    

"Jesus Christ... is there anybody in LA you didn't piss off?" He chuckles and shoves me playfully.    

"Oh, bite me." I giggle. "Anyway... I think I can come up with a decent, ow! What the fuck?" I shriek and hop out of my seat, rubbing my shoulder gently.     

"You told me to bite you." He shrugs. "So, we've got what, 6 good songs here? We're set for awhile, I think."    

"Good. Am I free now?"    

"Sure."    

"Oh thank god."    

"Aw... c'mon... you say that like writing with me is some awful experience." He pouts at me and suddenly, my knees feel a little weak.    

I can't see anything with him being awful.    

Since I agreed to seriously pursue taking this band somewhere, things with Lucas have been steadily improving. Now, he actually listens to me, even encourages some of the ideas I have. That one conversation seems to have been our turning point.    

However, he still doesn't seem very impressed with my past, but I'm perfectly ok with that. We're good now and that's all that matters.     

"You need help, seriously." I giggle and roll my eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."    

"Later." He nods as I head for the door.    

It isn't until I climb into my car that the tension hits me.     

My goal in moving to Colorado had been to get as far away from my past as humanly possible, and now I've been asked to go meet it head on.     

I knew pursuing this band thing would mean going back to some of my old connections, I guess I just didn't expect to need this one in particular.    

But... we'll need a manager and I honestly can't think of anyone better suited for the job than Jc Chasez.     

The only problem is, I seriously doubt he wants anything to do with me.

****************    

I pull up in front of the modest white house and take a deep breath. I've got some damn nerve, that much is for sure.     

I tried to call, I swear I did. But every single time I'd dial the number, I'd lose my nerve before I got to the last digit. I thought maybe it was some kind of sign, that if I was really supposed to do this, I would have been able to dial his number with no problem.         

But, deep down, I know it's guilt.     

I screwed him over, probably more so than anyone else and I'm terrified of having to face him again.     

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I have any hope of him hearing me out, I have to do this in person. If I called, he'd hang up on me in a heartbeat and that'd be the end of it.     

"We gonna sit here all fuckin day or what?" Lucas grins at me and I shake my head.    

"Sorry... I was just..."    

"I can stay here if you want... I don't wanna get involved in whatever personal shit you guys have."    

"No, it's fine. Actually... he might go a little easier on me with you there. You've got the demo, right?"    

"Course. I come prepared." He smirks and holds up the CD case. "Ready?"    

"As I'll ever be." I mutter and climb out of the rental car, Lucas trailing behind me.    

I shuffle up the walkway, praying that he doesn't scream at me and slam the door in my face the whole time. I can't really blame him if he does, but I really, really hope it doesn't come to that.     

I know I shouldn't expect much from him. After all, I turned my back on him, swore that I was done and now I've come here to beg his forgiveness. I'm sure it looks like I lied about everything, but that really isn't the case.    

Even after I agreed to take this further, I really put some thought into it and I honestly believe this is the best thing for me. Obviously, I couldn't handle the pressure on my own, but I was miserable living a normal life. I have to perform, there's no other way around it.     

We finally reach the door and I raise my fist to knock, pausing for a split second.    

Do I really want to do this?    

I mean, what if... what if this sets everything else in motion? How long can I drag this out before I'd have to see him?    

But then again... just because we'd be in the same town doesn't necessarily mean we'd have to see each other, and the last time I checked, him and Jc weren't exactly on the best of terms.    

I finally rap my knuckles against the door, take a step back and wait.     

The door swings open a minute later and when his eyes finally come to rest on me, it's impossible to miss the hatred in them. His mouth sets into a thin line as he folds his arms across his chest and glares at me.     

"What do you want?" His tone comes out even, but I know he's doing everything he can to not scream at me.    

"I umm... I was... I was hoping we could talk." I swallow hard and force the best smile I can manage, but I'm sure it comes out as more of a grimace.    

"I haven't got anything to say to you. Thanks for stopping by." He mutters and turns to slam the door.     

Lucas moves quickly, placing his foot in the doorway and smiling widely at Jc. "We came all this way and you're just gonna blow us off?"    

Jc chuckles bitterly and shakes his head. "And who the hell are you?"    

"Lucas Dawson. I'm a friend of Madison's." He extends his hand and smiles politely. "I think you should hear her out."    

Jc eyes Lucas critically and steps out onto the porch. "Fine. Five minutes."    

"God... Jace... I'm so fucking sorry." I breathe, the tears quickly forming in my eyes. "I know I was wrong... and you have no idea how bad I feel about everything. But... I really needed the time away... I was... I was so miserable, and I know I brought it on myself, but I had to get out. I know you probably hate me, but I swear... I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."    

"You came here just to apologize?" He arches an eyebrow at me and shakes his head. "There's this nifty little device called a phone Madison."    

"You would have hung up on me and you know it." I smile. I think I may have just cracked him a little.    

"Probably." He nods. "So... what's this about?"    

"Well... Lucas and I have this band..."    

"No. No fucking way." He cuts me off, shaking his head angrily. "After the shit you put me through, you have the nerve to come crawling back here, asking for my fucking help? Are you insane?"    

"Well... yeah, but you already knew that." I joke, but it does nothing to erase the fury in his eyes. "Look... I knew I was taking a risk coming here, and I won't be the least bit surprised if you tell me to go straight to hell. That's better than what I'd deserve, actually. If you aren't interested... that's fine, but I'd atleast like to leave here knowing we're on good terms. Whether you believe it or not, I really do miss you Jace."    

"Look man... put your personal shit aside and just listen to our demo. We came to you because Madison thinks you're the best there is. You don't want to help us out, fine. But atleast give us a shot. You already know this chick could sing the fucking phone book and turn it into gold. Our number at the hotel's in there." Lucas nods and grabs me by the elbow, leading me away from the house.    

I look back to see Jc shoot us one last scowl before he steps into the house, slamming the door behind him.     

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" I screech as we climb into the car. "Damnit Lucas.... you can't do that shit! Do you have any idea what I put him through? I cost him his fucking job and coming back here was a big deal! I can't just be all 'here's my demo' and fucking leave!"    

"If he's as good as you say he is... he'll call us by midnight." Lucas nods confidently.     

"No, he won't. Trust me...I know him a hell of a lot better than you do. What you just did pissed him off even more. You fucking blew it."    

"Madison... someone who take this shit seriously is going to be objective. He's going to put all your personal bullshit aside, listen to that demo, realize it's fucking awesome and call us."    

"Ok Mr. Optimistic... we'll fucking see about that." I mutter and pull away from the curb.    

Some part of me knew that bringing Lucas was a horrible idea. He's far too outspoken and stubborn to have just stood there. I should have made his ass stay in the car.     

Sure, knowing that Jace is just going to toss our demo into the trash without a second thought sucks, but what really stings is knowing that there's absolute no way to repair our friendship. Especially after the bullshit Lucas just pulled.    

Getting this band off the ground is going to be a thousand times harder than I thought.

****************    

I glance at the clock and frown.     

11:50.    

Lucas swore to me that Jc would call before midnight and thanks to my own stupidity, I started to believe him. I refuse to say it out loud, but part of me was praying that phone would ring and Jc would be raving about the demo.     

But, I knew this would happen. Just as I suspected before, I guarantee he threw the damn thing out.    

Can you blame him, really? I probably would have done the same exact thing.    

"He call yet?" Lucas asks as he steps out of the bathroom, running a towel through his wet hair.     

"Of course not. I told you, he's not going to."    

"He'll call." He nods and stretches out on the other bed. "You really need to learn to be more positive. You're kind of a downer."    

"I'm realistic."    

"Yeah well... realism sucks."    

11:59.    

He's not calling. I know he's not.    

I was stupid to even hope for it.     

12:00.    

"Told you dipshit." I mutter and flip the light out.         

I know I can't be mad at Lucas for this, but he let me get my hopes up, therefore, it's his fault.     

"Alright fine... I was a little off on the timing, but he'll call."    

"Whatever. Our flight's at 10 tomorrow. Night."    

"Oh come on... you can't seriously be pissed at me cause that fucker didn't show."    

"I'm not mad Lucas. Just go to sleep. Jesus Christ."    

I may have a crush, but he drives me fucking crazy. He always has to have the last word and he's always, always a smart ass about it. He can't ever just leave well enough alone.     

"I'm not tired, you care if I watch TV?"    

"Do whatever you want." I mutter, knowing full well that if the TV's on, I won't be getting any damn sleep.     

Honestly, it's not even the band stuff I'm upset about.     

The whole flight here, my main goal was to patch things up with Jc and I've done a real bang up job of that. I guess I should have seen it coming. He tried to tell me there'd be no going back from what I did to him. I was just too damn stubborn to listen.     

12:15.    

Lucas continues to flip channels, muttering to himself and suddenly, it hits me just how bad I feel about this.    

This was our big chance. This was supposed to be our foot in the door to bigger and better things and I blew it, long before I even met him.     

Funny how your past can come back and bite you in the ass.     

12:45.    

I jump slightly at the sound of a soft knock on the door and look around. Lucas is passed out on his bed, the television still on, casting a weird glow around the room.     

I crawl out of bed and pad to the door. So help me god, if it's housekeeping, I may end up strangling someone.  I look out the peephole and my jaw damn near hits the floor.    

Holy fucking shit.     

I fumble with the locks a little and finally jerk the door open. I rub my eyes tiredly and stare at him, still surprised as hell that he's actually here.    

"Jace..."    

"Can we talk?"    

"Yeah... yeah, come on in." I smile as he steps into the room awkwardly.    

"What the shit... oh, hey man." Lucas grins sleepily, but I don't miss the triumphant look in his eyes.     

"Alright... I listened to it." Jc sighs and plants himself on the couch across from the beds. "And it's good... really fucking good, actually."    

"Thanks man, glad you think so." Lucas grins, shooting me the most cocky 'I told you so' look he can manage.     

"But... as much as I'd like to put my personal feelings to the side, I can't do that." He frowns and Lucas's smile begins to fade quickly. "Madison... I think you and I need to talk about some things." He gives me a pointed look before his eyes cut to Lucas, then back to me.    

"I can go in the other room or something..."    

"Why bother? you'll still be listening."    

"Good point." He smirks. "I'll keep my mouth shut though, promise."   

"Well..." Jc sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Like I said... that demo was damn good. If it was up to me and there were no issues, I'd sign you guys here and now. But Madison... you have to know why I've got mixed feelings about this. Number one... I'm still pretty damn mad about everything. You put me out of work after everything I did for you... you had no problem walking away from it, like it didn't fucking matter. And,my biggest concern is, how do I know you're not going to do the same again? What if I get you guys signed, you take off and suddenly you decide it's too much again? I put my neck on the line for you once already Madison... I can't afford to have it all thrown back in my face again."    

"Jace... I swear to you, it fucking killed me to leave. I almost stayed... just for your benefit. But I was already so miserable and it would have gotten a thousand times worse if I'd stayed. I am so, so sorry, you really have no idea how sorry. But I just couldn't do it anymore. I was fucking drowning."    

"I get it... I really do. But, it doesn't change what happened." He shrugs.   

"I know, but I swear Jace... I will make it up to you. I've got a really good feeling about this band. It's not just me up there this time... I know I can make this work."    

"We'll see." He shrugs again. "And I know this has all the potential in the world to come back and bite me in the ass, but I'm not stupid enough to pass something like this up. So, I'll come out to the next show and we'll go from there. It's a ten to one bet that I can get you guys signed. But, I'm not working on my own anymore. I'm at a new label and before this goes any further, you should probably know who..."    

"Oh my god Jace... it doesn't matter!" I squeal and lunge for him, wrapping my arms tight around his neck. "I'm gonna make this work... I swear I am."    

"I sincerely hope so... otherwise, I may have to kill you." He chuckles and shakes his head.    

I know getting him to trust me again is gonna take a lot of work, but atleast I'm on the right track. And, as a bonus I seem to have just started the process of getting this band off the ground.    

Lucas gives Jc the details of our next show, numbers are exchanged and Jace finally leaves, close to four am.    

"Holy shit." Lucas breathes as he closes the door softly behind Jc. "I owe you like you would not believe."    

"Eh... it was nothing."    

"Madison... that was fucking something. I don't know what happened with you all, but obviously some shit went down. It took a lot for you to do this, I know it did."    

"I've been through worse."    

"I don't care... just let me say thanks, will ya?" He chuckles and I look up to find his face inches away from mine.    

Oh shit.    

I swallow hard and try to look anywhere but at him. Unfortunately for me, it's not working out so well.    

"Oh... ok." I nod dumbly.    

"Thank you." He whispers, a broad grin breaking out across his face. "I've been busting my ass the last ten years, trying to get this to go somewhere. You have no idea what this means to me." He cocks his head to the side and stares at me intently.    

Does he have to be so god damn close? I mean come on... hasn't he ever heard of the personal bubble?    

"This is making you nervous, isn't it? Me being this close?"    

Damnit.    

Why the hell is he able to read me so well? It really isn't very fair.    

"N-no." I stutter, mentally cursing myself. "Why... why would it make me nervous?"    

"You tell me." He smirks and leans forward to rest his forehead against mine.    

Well shit.    

I could tell him exactly why this makes me so damn nervous and risk embarrassing the hell out of myself, or tell him to kiss my ass and go to sleep.    

Both options are going to leave me disappointed, so does it really matter which way I go?    

"It's late Lucas... I need to get some sleep."    

"Hang on a sec." He grins as his hands settle on my hips, holding me in place.    

He stares at me for what feels like hours before he suddenly moves again and his lips capture mine.    

Shit, shit, shit.    

If I learned anything from Fleetwood Mac, it's that you don't screw around with your band mates, no matter how badly you want to.    

But, instead of pushing him away, my arms slide around his neck and I pull myself closer to him.    

I knew this trip was a bad idea. I should have just used the damn phone.  

"You're going where?"    

"Colorado." Jc shrugs. "I found this band on the internet and they have a show tonight. Figured I'd go check it out."    

"Colorado?"    

"Yep."    

"They better be good then."    

"Funny... I could have sworn you agreed to trust my judgement on this stuff."    

"Trusting you and having to pay for your flights and hotel are two completely different things."    

"Right... cause money's so tight around here." He snorts and shakes his head. "My flight's in a couple hours so I'm heading out. I'll call you after the show."    

"Yeah... grab a demo or something."    

"Umm... yeah." He nods slowly. "I'll see what I can do."    

He quickly exits the office and all I can do is stare after him. Maybe it's just me, but he seems a little...weird, lately.    

But then again, it's Jace. He's always been a fuckin weirdo.     

I will say one thing though, him and Trace have worked this talent scouting thing out perfectly. Trace goes through the demo's that are sent to the label while Jc scours the internet and goes to shows.     

They've got an excellent system going. Pretty much fool-proof, really. The only problem is, we have yet to find anything worthwhile.     

Honestly, I just don't get it. We've been at this for months and keep coming up empty handed. It's not like all the talent in the world has suddenly dried up.     

Or, maybe the problem is that we're just trying too hard. Maybe we need to just sit back and wait for something to fall into our laps.    

Or, there's also the possibility that people just aren't interested in going to a label. They're all dead set on trying out for those fucking reality shows.    

Yeah... I'm putting way too much thought into this.     

I can't help wondering if it's just me. Maybe I'm the problem.     

I won't deny the fact that I've been picky about this. My first artist failed. I've accepted it and for the most part, moved on. I guess that's why I've been so weird about all of this.    

I failed once. It won't happen a second time.     

If I produce another artist who tanks, it's all over. I'll be a fucking joke. Nobody will want anything to do with my label and I'll probably go bankrupt or something.     

So yeah, I'm not going to sign somebody unless I'm absolutely sure they'll be successful.    

Makes sense, right?

********************    

"They were great man. They've been a cover band for awhile now and they just started working on their own stuff. They won this battle of the bands last night, so they're opening for The Killers next month. We've got to pick them up before somebody else does."    

"And you're sure they'll make it?"    

"No doubt in my mind." Jc nods seriously and even I'm starting to buy into what he's saying.    

He's been to Colorado three times within the last couple months and every single time he comes back raving about this band. I'm not doubting him or anything, but I'm still a little leery of the whole thing.     

He's never been able to get a hold of a demo and he's asking me to sign a band I've never met or even heard. Sorry, but I don't work that way.     

He knows the final decision is mine and if I'm going to even consider dealing with these guys, I have to hear them first.    

But, the fact that they just won a battle of the bands and will be opening for The Killers definitely swings things in their favor. But still, I'm not going into this blind. I'm not that damn dumb.    

"When's the Killer's show?"    

"The 10th."    

"And I take it you're planning on going?"    

"Probably."    

"Me and Trace will go with you then." I nod, a little confused by the way he tenses up.    

"Uh... ok. Wh-why though?"    

"You want me to sign them, right?"    

"Well, yeah. Of course."    

"Alright then. Don't I have a right to know what I'm getting myself into?"    

"Oh... um... yeah. Didn't really think about it like that." He forces what sounds like a nervous chuckle and I eye him carefully.     

He is acting really fucking odd and I'm not so sure I like it.    

"That alright with you?"    

"Hey... you're the boss." He shrugs.    

"Exactly. So, go ahead and book the flights and everything."

"Got it." He nods. "Are you bringing Keri?"    

Ugh. Keri.    

I really haven't got a clue what I'm doing there.    

Obviously, I don't care about the girl in any way, shape or form. Although... I do feel a little bad that she's decided she's in love with me.    

I mean, she kind of brought it on herself when you think about it. If she was as into this... this thing (I refuse to call it a relationship) as she wants to think, she would have realized a long time ago how one sided all of this is.    

Any normal, respectable girl would have dumped my ass months ago.     

I honestly don't know why she's hanging around and torturing herself. In the end, it's just gonna be her getting hurt.    

It's her funeral, I guess.     

"No."    

"Alright. I'll make the arrangements." He sighs before marching out of the room.     

With any luck, this band is going to be the ticket out of the hole I've dug for myself and my label.     

I pace the floor anxiously, my eyes flitting to the door every few seconds, while Stella sits on the couch, calm as ever. How the hell is she not the least bit nervous? I mean... this is it.    

Whatever happens tonight is the deciding factor for us. Not only is Jace bringing his boss, but there will be plenty of other industry folks here to check us out, as well as the other two opening bands.    

There's no doubt in my mind that we can do it. I know we can.    

I guess my issue is, this is the first thing we've done that's on the level I'd gotten so used to. If all goes well, tonight is going to land me right back in the middle of the life I walked away from and I'm scared shitless.    

I've sworn to myself and everyone around me that I'm in this for the long haul, but what if I'm wrong? What if I get up there and choke? What if I realize I really can't handle that life anymore? Either one of those is entirely possible.     

"Five minutes." Lucas grins as he and Benny step into the room, both nothing short of ecstatic.    

We file out of the room and head for the stage, Lucas discreetly lacing his fingers through mine as we make our way down the long, dimly lit hall.    

I'm still not entirely sure what to make of that situation. We haven't put any kind of a label on it and I'm not so sure I want to. But, it would be nice to know where the hell I stand.     

Unfortunately, with the stress of the battle of the bands and this show, I haven't really had the time to sit down and worry about that kind of crap.     

It's not like we've tried to hit it either. Benny and Stella are fully aware that something is going on. They actually seem pretty un phased by it, which works out in my favor too. I've had a relationship be the focus of everyone's attention before, and we all know how that turned out.    

We reach the stage and I take a deep breath. No matter how this turns out, everything will be fine. I have to believe that.    

"You'll be amazing. Stop freaking out." Lucas smiles and kisses my temple quickly.     

I nod in response and follow my band mates out on stage.     

We're going to be fine, right?

****************    

"You are the most amazing woman I've ever met. Seriously... I'm going to build an alter and worship you the rest of my life." Benny nods seriously before taking another long swig of his drink.     

"Don't get ahead of yourself. We don't have a deal.... yet." Lucas smiles knowingly. "Where's your boy at?"    

"Beats me." I shrug, my eyes searching the bar for Jc.    

We've been off stage for roughly twenty minutes and already, three label reps have approached us. We've exchanged numbers and business cards, promising to keep our options open.    

In reality, we're biding our time until Jace and his boss show up.     

I know it's stupid and selfish that I want Jc involved in all of this, but I know what he's capable of. I know we can trust him and I know he'll do everything in his power to take care of us. Signing with someone else would be too much of a risk.    

I finally spot him near the exits, a taller man standing in front of him with his back to me. With the music and crowd noise, it's impossible to hear what either of them are saying, but I've seen that look on Jc's face entirely too many times to not know what it means.    

He's fucking pissed, to put it mildly.     

The taller man storms off toward the bar and Jc frowns, looking around quickly. His eyes finally land on our table and I wave him over.     

Honestly, I was expecting a little more excitement from him, but he just looks... depressed, is the best word I can think of.     

"Hey." He nods when he reaches us, after pushing his way through the crowd.    

"So... what's the deal man?" Lucas leans forward in his seat.    

"You guys were fantastic... there's no question there."

"Right. The question is, where's your big boss man?" Benny slurs, a wide grin stretching across his face. "He's the one we had to impress, right?"    

"Well... yeah. He's... he dug the set." Jc forces a smile, refusing to meet my eyes. "There's just some... complications."    

What the hell?    

Jc swore this was a done deal. When he called me yesterday, he was convinced our deal was pretty much in the bag, it was just a matter of getting this guy to a show. So, what's the fucking hold up?    

"There's just... I've gotta go over some shit with him. It's nothing, trust me."    

"Where's he at? I'll talk to him." Lucas shrugs. "If he can say we were good... there shouldn't be any complication. Either he wants to sign us or he doesn't."    

"He's... thinking about it."    

"Thinking about what, exactly?" Stella mutters and rolls her eyes.     

"You know what? Fuck this. We've got three other labels ready to sign us in the morning. Thanks for coming out." Lucas rolls his eyes and slides out of the booth, pulling me along with him. "C'mon. Let's get a beer and get a good spot for The Killers."        

"I tried Madison... I swear I did. There's just... there's shit going on that you don't know about." Jc frowns. I can't remember ever seeing him this helpless. It's a little weird.    

"It's fine Jace. You tried when you didn't have to. I still appreciate that." I smile and give him a small wave before letting Lucas pull me through the crowd.    

I wasn't so sure before, but now it's plain to see that this was completely out of Jace's hands. I know him well enough to know that if he had any control over the situation, we'd be signing a contract at this very moment.     

Like Lucas said, we've still got three other labels who are interested. We're not going to fail just because one didn't want us.    

"What a bunch of bullshit." Lucas mumbles as we reach the bar. "You know... I bet you he's got no fucking pull with his label. This was probably his way of getting back at you for whatever you did."    

"He wouldn't do that."    

"Sure about that? Cause from where I'm standing, this was pretty fucked up. Hype everybody up like that and dick us at the last second. Fuck him."    

"Don't be an asshole." I mutter and pull my hand out of his grasp.    

I'm not saying he can't be upset or anything. I'm not exactly thrilled with the way this turned out either. But, atleast I know it's not Jace's fault. I'm not about to stand here and let Lucas blame him.    

He tried, what else was he supposed to have done? He went above and beyond what I deserved, so I'm not going to be mad or judge him.     

Besides, even though this didn't work out the way I was hoping, I did get to clear the air with him and that's more important to me than any record deal.     

"You're right. I'm sorry." His expression softens before he leans in and presses his lips to mine.     

As corny as it sounds, I honestly can't see myself ever getting tired of kissing him.    

I know it's beyond stupid to be jumping into something with him, but it's like it's impossible not to. Everything about him seems to pull me in and even when he's being a prick, I still want to be around him.     

Apparently I have a thing for arrogance.     

He pulls away to order our drinks and I turn to face the crowd. The Killers should be starting their set fairly soon, then we can get the hell out of here and crash. Thank the lord.     

To this day, watching a crowd of people at concert never ceases to amaze me. Excitement is clear as day on everyone's face and I've always loved seeing that many people sing along to the same songs, even when they aren't mine.     

I spot a vaguely familiar red baseball cap in the corner and my eyes travel down to the face underneath it.     

Holy fucking shit.    

I swallow hard and do everything I can to catch my breath. Why the fuck is he here? We haven't spoken in damn near a year. Hell... I can't even fathom how he'd have heard about us.    

Or... maybe he's just here to see The Killers. Trace has always been a music whore. And I can clearly remember him performing a rousing, drunken rendition of Mr. Brightside one night at some party.     

But it's just too much of a coincidence.    

I'm finally able to look away from Trace long enough to catch a glimpse of the man standing beside him, who is staring directly at me. Or maybe he's looking at Lucas's arms around my waist. I can't really be sure.     

His eyes finally lock with mine and I inhale sharply.     

Fuck.    

This just got so much worse.    

And suddenly... it all makes sense.     

Why Jc never told us the name of the label he was working for. Why his "boss" had to think about signing us.     

It's been him all along.     

"I'm at a new label and before this goes any further, you should probably know who..."         

Jace even tried to tell me. And I was so damn happy that he was talking to me again, I told him I didn't care.     

Justin is Jc's boss.    

Jace's new label is Tennman.         

Maybe it should have clicked sooner. Or maybe I was too caught up in being excited about something for the first time in god knows how long, that I just didn't think it through.     

Justin shoots me a disgusted look before roughly shoving his way through the crowd and toward the door.    

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Do I go after him? Do I let him go, pretend this never happened and sign with one of the labels that actually wants us?    

I can't even begin to imagine how this looks to him.     

I told him I needed to get away, not just from him, but from my entire life in general, yet here I am, less than a year later, ready to start the whole process all over again.     

This is probably the dumbest thing I'll ever do, but I have to go after him. He deserves atleast some form of an explanation.     

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick."    

"Yeah, cool. Hurry up though... The Killers are on in ten. I'll be up front." Lucas grabs our drinks from the bartender, kisses me quickly and disappears into the crowd.     

I push my way through the sea of bodies and reach the exit in record time. I step outside and look around quickly, not spotting Justin anywhere.     

I round the corner of the building and there he is, his back to me once again, his arms wrapped around his head, resting on the roof of what I can only assume is his rental car.     

I make my way through the lot, plotting out exactly what to say as I go. Unfortunately, nothing seems good enough.    

Go figure.    

He straightens up suddenly and turns to face me, his mouth set into a hard line. He folds his arms across his chest and glares at me.    

"Justin..." I sigh pathetically.     

I had all the hope in the world that I'd never be in this position. Guess I should have known this would all come back to bite me in the ass eventually.     

"So... this is your definition of getting away, huh?" Justin fumes. "Or did you just wanna get in one more lie for the fucking road? Your little song was a nice touch by the way. Almost made me believe you felt bad about it."    

Clearly, coming after him was not the way to go.  

I don't care what anybody says, she's a lying, no good, manipulative bitch. Her angle's always been playing the victim, I honestly don't know why I'm surprised.     

You know what really fucking pisses me off though? She could have just told me the truth. I mean seriously, how god damn hard would it have been to just say "Hey, sorry Justin, but I really don't give two shits about you, so have a nice life."    

No, that would have been way too fucking easy.     

"Look... just... just let me explain, alright?" She pleads.     

Let her explain. Right.     

I really don't want to hear it. I got all the explanation I needed when I saw her on that stage. Then, to make matters worse, she's got that fucking tool in there pawing all over her.     

Like it wasn't bad enough that she had to lie about not being able to perform anymore. Oh no... she has to pour salt in the wound by apparently screwing her guitar player.     

Kinda makes ya wonder if any fucking word that came out of her mouth was even remotely true.    

Probably not.     

I'll bet she was even screwing that fucking coke head Ryan behind my back.     

All tonight has done is prove that I never knew her at all and I hate her that much more for it. It almost feels weird to say that, to actually feel it. But, it's the god's honest truth. I hate Madison Fox. The way I felt about her when we were first thrown together doesn't even begin to touch the way I feel now.    

"Explain all you want, but it doesn't change a god damn thing."    

"Justin..." She sighs and shakes her head sadly. "This is so not what you think it is. You should know me well enough by now to-"

"Sweetheart... I don't fucking know you at all. Looks like I never did." I laugh bitterly and roll my eyes.     

She's got some damn nerve too. Cry and whine about how hard her life was, how much pressure she was under, just to turn around and go running right back to it, asking me, of all people, to help.    

I knew hiring Jc was a shitty idea. He's always been a sucker for her bullshit. Guess I'll have to fire him in the morning. Bummer for him.    

"I didn't mean for this to happen, alright?" She shouts and all I can do is roll my eyes.    

Bitch, please.    

"I spent months working in some shitty little diner. I was exactly where I wanted to be and it still didn't fit. This band just fell into my lap. And I just... I felt normal again. So, we decided to see what we could make of it and we went to Jc. I swear, I had no idea he was working for you. If I'd known, believe me, I wouldn't have bothered."    

She can't honestly expect me to buy this horseshit, can she?     

It's becoming fairly obvious that this girl's goal in life is to fuck with me any way she can. Maybe it's paranoid, but I wouldn't be surprised if her and Jace planned the whole god damn thing.    

"What would have been the fun in that? There wouldn't have been anybody for you to dick over. Or... is that asshole in there the next target? You get bored with me and decide it was time to pull your bullshit on someone else? Sorry for not giving you enough of a reaction."    

"It wasn't about you. It still isn't." She whispers harshly and shakes her head. "And how can you even think I was deliberately trying to hurt you? I was fucking in love with you, you idiot!"    

Ya know... for Madison... this is pretty damn calm and it's a little weird. I suppose it's more proof that I have absolutely no clue who the hell she is.    

"Sure as shit didn't stop you, now did it?"    

"Look... I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to find out like this and I'm sorry you think it was all just to fuck you over, but it wasn't. And... I am allowed to have a life. I don't-"    

"Not when it's one you already walked away from! Or was the goal just to get away from me? If it was, you really didn't have to go to all this trouble. You could have just written one of your shitty little songs and been on your way. But, I guess that woulda been to easy, wouldn't have gotten you enough attention, right?"    

"Fuck you Justin. Don't stand there and judge me for moving on with my life. Kinda funny how you can be all high and mighty about this shit when you're fucking Keri Butler. Picked up any diseases yet?"    

"Don't get pissy cause she's a better lay than you were."    

For a split second, hurt flashes in her eyes and I almost feel bad. Almost.    

"Yeah, well.. atleast my album didn't fucking tank."    

"Atleast she doesn't have a fat ass."    

"Really?" She chuckles darkly and rolls her eyes. "Thank you for reminding me that you have the mental and emotional capacity of a fucking ten year old. Have a nice life dickhead." She turns on her heel and stomps back into the club without another word.    

And, she does it again folks. Always running away when shit gets tough. She can't stand to be called out on her own bullshit.    

Looks like there's atleast one thing I still know about her.

*****************    

"Hey." Trace smiles as he enters my office and plops down in the seat across from my desk. I give him a short nod, keeping my eyes focused on the paperwork on front of me. "You calmed down now or what? It's been three fuckin days."    

"I don't know what you're talking about."    

"Guess that's a no." He mutters and rolls his eyes.    

He's been trying so damn hard to get me to talk about what happened in Colorado. Unfortunately for him, I have taken a very simple stance on the whole thing.    

I refuse to admit that anything happened. I see no point in dwelling on it or moping around about it. As far as I'm concerned, Jc pitched an act and I turned it down. End of story.    

But of course, my vertically challenged friend can't fucking let it go. Sometimes, he's such a friggen woman, always wanting to talk about feelings and whatever other girly bullshit he can pull out of his ass.    

"So, what're you gonna do about Jace man? He's like, afraid to even walk in the building and that's not cool."    

Oh yeah... guess I should mention the fact that I fired Jc two days ago. Trace, for some reason, thinks I was kidding. Which I wasn't.    

Jc knew what he was doing. He drug me out there knowing exactly what would happen when I saw her. Part of me can't help wondering if it was supposed to be some type of payback.     

He's convinced that I'm the reason Madison left, that it's my fault he ended up out of a job. What better way to get back at me, than confront me with the one thing I've been trying to forget?    

He so planned that shit. Probably had her in on it too.    

"Look man...just talk to him. You might actually be interested in what he's got to say."    

"Seriously doubt it. Nice try though."    

"Jesus fucking Christ." He sighs and leans forward in his seat. "I get that you're pissed. I don't blame you, alright? But as shitty as you're acting, we both know damn well you want her back. I know you've been waiting for her to come back, and ok fine... she didn't show up on your doorstep begging for forgiveness, but so the fuck what? The bottom line is, this is exactly what you've been waiting for. So, you've got two choices. Do something about it, or move the fuck on."    

"You done?"    

"Hell no, I'm not done!" He jumps out of his seat quickly and glares at me. "While you're at it, you can stop being a prick to me and everybody else. You keep this shit up, pretty soon, Keri'll be the only one willing to put up with your sorry ass. And I know how much you'd love that." He snorts before strolling out of the office, slamming the door behind him.     

It's almost funny how he thinks he's got me all figured out. But, he's so far off base it's unreal.     

Number one, I have absolutely no desire to see her ever again, much less want her back. Secondly, I'm not being a prick. I've adapted to the changes in my life and yeah... maybe it did change my personality a little, but that's kind of how change works. Plain and simple.    

He wants to give some speech and bitch somebody out, maybe he should call his buddy Jc. He's the one who's got the fucking problem.    

I love how I always get the blame for other people's bullshit. Like I'm supposed to sit back and smile while I get fucked over.    

Right. I'd love to see Trace do that.    

I open my desk drawer and roll my eyes at the sight of that wrinkled up piece of paper laying on top of everything else.    

Who the fuck am I kidding? Trace is 100 percent right. The fact that I still have that damn sheet of paper is proof of that.    

As mad as I am and as much as I think I hate her, deep down, I know I really don't. Maybe if I hadn't been so fucking surprised, I might have actually been happy to see her.    

And, really... I can't even fault her for dating that guy. I mean shit, look at me and what I'm doing. The circumstances may be a little different, but we're both doing the same thing.    

Trying to get back where we belong. Trying to be happy.     

Unfortunately, she seems to be pulling it off nicely while I'm failing miserably.     

So, the big question now is, what the hell do I do?    

I can deny it all I want, but her band was fucking awesome. The businessman in me knows they'd be huge. But, I'm not so sure I can forgive and forget enough to help them. Way too much shit has happened.    

But, maybe it's time I made some kind of sacrifice for her. Three years ago, she put her entire life on hold to cover my ass. Sure, the truth came out eventually, but we all knew that was bound to happen, one way or another.    

Maybe it's time to repay her for the shit she did for me.    

God knows I don't want to, but that's life, ain't it? Sometimes, you do shit you don't want to, to help the people you love.    

And that's what it comes down to. I still love her.    

Never stopped, really.

***********************    

I pull up in front of Jc's and roll my eyes at the condescending smirk Trace shoots my way.     

Little bastard. It's bad enough that he knows he was right. He doesn't have to gloat about it too.     

"So, what exactly is the plan here? I mean... you fired the dude. He's not gonna be cool with this little plan of yours."    

"You don't know that." I mutter and climb out of the car, Trace trailing behind me all the way to the door.    

"Well... I was right about everything else." He shrugs. "I'd say the odds are in my favor on this too."    

"Fuck off."    

"I'm not so sure that would be a good idea... see, I'm kind of the mediator here. Without me, this could very well turn into world war three, and if you two idiots kill each other, there's nobody around to sign my paycheck, and I am so not cool with that."

I can't help but laugh and roll my eyes. "Glad to know you've got your priorities in order."    

"Yeah man... you know me. Master prioritizer." He grins as the door swings open and Jc eyes me cautiously.    

"What's up?" He forces a smile and leans against the doorjamb.     

"Can we talk?"    

"Ya know... this is happening entirely too much." He chuckles softly and shakes his head. "Yeah man, c'mon in. So... what are we talking about this time?"    

"Oh just the usual... Justin's a douche... cost you your job again... wants to make up for his asshole tendencies. So yeah... nothing out of the ordinary." Trace smirks when I punch him in the shoulder.     

He really is a shit head when he knows he's right about something. I'll have to make sure it doesn't happen too often.     

"Figured as much." Jc laughs and rolls his eyes. "So..."    

"Alright look... I'm doing this all from a strictly business point of view, ok? Madison's band was good... and I think we'd be making a huge mistake to not sign them. I have no personal stake in any of this. We've got a flight to Colorado at six tonight. I've already got the contracts made up. And... if you're willing... I'd like you to sign on as their manager."    

"So, I'm not fired then?" He and Trace share a knowing smile and I'd love to knock them both the fuck out.    

I really don't like when everybody but me knows what's going on.     

"No. You're more or less being promoted. You already handled Madison's career... obviously, you're good at this. So... yeah."    

"Ok. But... the bullshit stops here, alright? I'm not going to do this with you breathing down my neck."    

"Fine by me. I want nothing to do with their account. It's all you and Trace. I'll deal with Keri."    

"Alright then. Let me get some shit together, then we'll head to the airport." He smiles as he hops out of his seat and heads up the stairs.    

Trace shoots me yet another shit eating grin and all I can do is roll my eyes.    

It's just business, why am I the only one who can see that?  

I could literally kill Jc. Like... actually buy a gun, hop a plane to LA and shoot him the second he opens the door.    

I mean seriously... on what plane of existence did he think this was a good idea? He had to know that throwing me and Justin at each other was the worst idea in the history of ideas.     

Granted, I wasn't holding any kind of grudge against Justin or anything, but still... I really, really did not want to see him. Arguing with him like that brought all that old shit back to the surface and I've had to spend the last several days trying to push it under again.     

In the back of my mind, I've missed him all along but after awhile, I became kind of numb to it. I convinced myself I was over him and I eventually started to believe it.  But now... now my head is one big cluster fuck and I can't make sense of anything.    

Was Jc honestly trying to help, or was this some form of revenge? Is this karma coming back to bite me in the ass for bailing on everyone the way I did?   

The only thing I know for sure is, Justin was just as surprised to see me and I still haven't decided if that's a good or bad thing.     

But, I guess it doesn't really matter. He and Jc both made it painfully obvious that it's just not going to work. So, Lucas and I have spent the morning shipping our demo's off to every label we could think of, trying to get a hold of some of the contacts we made at the Killer's show.    

So far, no luck. But... I'm sure somebody will bite eventually.     

"Alright... that's the last one." Lucas nods as he seals the final envelope and shoves it in the mailbox. "Unless you can think of anybody else."    

"No... I think we've got it covered." I follow him back to the car in silence.     

I've gotten pretty lucky with him, I think. Either he's completely oblivious to the fact that something happened the other night, or he's just not that worried about it.     

After talking, well... fighting, with Justin. I was a wreck. I booked it out of the club without any type of a goodbye, went home and let myself kind of lose it for awhile. I didn't really cry, but there was definitely some major freaking out going on.    

Then, I woke up the next day, fully committed to putting it behind me. It was just another stupid, senseless, dramatic argument with Justin. I've had enough of those to last me a lifetime, so there's no sense in getting all up in arms about it, right?    

"Who the fuck is that?" Lucas squints ahead as he turns down the street. I look up, slightly confused by the sight of a black range rover parked in front of the house.    

I rack my brain, trying my best to remember the car, but keep coming up empty handed. It isn't until Lucas pulls up directly behind it, that I notice the rental sticker on the bumper.    

Jc. It has to be.     

My best guess is that he's come to apologize, which can only mean, he was just trying to help. And I guess some part of me knew that.     

No matter how many times it happens, or how much evidence is stacked against him, I refuse to ever see Jace as the bad guy. He's always got the best intentions, and yeah... sometimes, it kind of blows up in his face, but it's the thought that counts, right?    

I climb out of the car quickly and head inside, not the least bit surprised to find Benny and Jc seated on the couch.     

"Hey Jace." I smile as politely as I can manage while tossing my bag onto the floor. "What's up?"    

"I was in the neighborhood.... figured I owed you guys an explanation."    

As much as I'd love to hear what he's got to say, he really doesn't owe any of us anything. He said he'd try and that's exactly what he did. It's not his fault it didn't work out.    

"No you don't. It's fine Jace. Honestly. No harm, no foul."    

"I don't know... it's an interesting little tale." Benny smirks and suddenly, my curiosity is getting the better of me.     

"I should have been up front and told you I was working for Justin, just like I should have told him we were coming out here to see you. But... I knew you guys really wanted to get signed and I'd been hoping that he'd see how good you all were and not care." He sighs and shakes his head. "Honestly... I knew he'd freak out a little, but I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He keeps saying how he's over everything and I started to think he really was. Obviously... I was wrong." He chuckles softly and rolls his eyes.    

"Don't worry about it. You did what you could Jace. We're trying some other labels... it'll work out eventually."    

"That's actually why I'm here." He grins. "Justin and I did some talking and he really needs a new artist on the label and we all think you guys would be perfect."

"So... he... he wants to sign us?"   

"Yep." His smile stretches across his face and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.    

This is too damn good to be true.     

"Trace and I will be handling your account. Justin won't have anything to do with it, and if it's alright with you guys, I'll be signing on as your manager."    

I nod slowly, letting everything he's just said sink in. Is this really happening?    

Things in my life never fall into place like this. There's got to be some sort of catch. Especially considering the fact that Justin's involved.     

I know I'm the only one who saw him really flip out a couple days ago, but I'm sure Jc got a similar reaction. There's no way Justin would turn around this quickly.   

"Why?" It comes out before I can even think about it and I cringe a little when Jc frowns at me.    

I know... I should be thrilled. We should all be celebrating right now. But this is just... too easy.     

"You guys were good. Justin wants a potentially successful act on the label."    

"But we weren't good enough four days ago?" Lucas suddenly speaks up.     

I'm glad atleast one of us is with it enough to question this. I just... I can't really believe it. Things just don't work like this for me.     

"It's not like that man." Jc sighs loudly and shakes his head. "I don't know how much you know... but Madison and Justin have... some history that could cause some problems. But, we've figured out a way around it. If you all still want to sign with us, we can meet for lunch tomorrow and go over the contract."    

"Tell ya what..." Lucas smiles sarcastically and rolls his eyes. "Tell Justin we've already got a couple offers on the table and... we'll think about it. We'd like to keep our options open."    

"Fair enough." Jc nods, slowly rising from his seat. "You guys talk about it, and give me a call tomorrow." He smiles as he brushes past me and leaves the house without another word.    

As much as I like Lucas... sometimes I wish he'd just keep his damn mouth shut.   

"And what, pray tell, are these other offers?" Benny arches an eyebrow suspiciously and smirks at Lucas.     

"I was bluffing." Lucas mutters. "That guy's an asshole, alright? He spent how long promising us a deal, then backs out, and he's back all of a sudden? Something's up. And until we figure it out... we're gonna make em sweat a little."    

"Umm... no, no we're not." Benny laughs and rolls his eyes. "They're offering us a fucking deal Luke... a couple label jerkoffs blew smoke up your ass at the Killer's show. You haven't heard from them since, and you're probably not going to. I say we meet up with them tomorrow and see what they're laying out. If it sucks, ok fine. But c'mon man...we've gotta atleast see what they're offering."    

"He's right." I mumble. "Jace wouldn't screw me like that, and the only reason it fell apart at the show was me."    

"So, in other words... we're all in for a bunch of shit because of you?"    

"Jace said Justin's going to stay out of it. I believe him."    

"Two against one. You've been out-voted." Benny grins and hops out of his chair. "I'll call Stel." He damn near skips out of the room and I can't help but laugh at him.    

No matter what's going on, the guy is always in a good mood. It's kind of refreshing.     

"Do I need to know what happened?" Lucas asks quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor. "I'm sorry Madison... but I don't want your personal shit hanging over my head and fucking this up. If I need to know... tell me now. And if this... if this is gonna lead to you getting back with him... just cut me fucking loose right now."    

I wince slightly and bite down on my lip.     

I fully believe Jc when he says Justin won't have any part of this. But, I also know Justin entirely too well. It'd be just a matter of time before he has to stick his big nose into our business.     

But then again, maybe he's changed. Maybe this is just business as far as he's concerned.     

And as far as me getting back with Justin... there's just no fucking way that's gonna happen. I'm over him. He's over me... I think.     

Maybe for once, something's going to just fall into place for me. Maybe it's exactly what it's been presented as.     

I cross the room and smile before sliding my arms around his neck.  "I won't let any of that happen. I promise."    

"You sure about that?"    

"Absolutely positive." I nod seriously. "It's all over and done with."    

He finally smiles and gives me a short nod. "Alright then. You know this means you're stuck with me, right?"    

"As much as you annoy me... I am perfectly ok with that." I giggle as his mouth meets mine.

*****************    

I follow my band mates into the small cafe and inhale sharply as the sight of Trace, Jc and Justin seated at a corner table. As thrilled as I am that we're going to make something of this band,  I can't ignore how strange all of this feels.    

Maybe if we were dealing with another label, or different people, it'd be easier to wrap my head around. I just... I feel like I'm cheating or something. Someone who's hurt as many people as I have doesn't deserve a second chance like this.    

And I still can't figure out why Justin suddenly changed his mind. He's just as stubborn as I am, so this is completely out of character for him.    

Don't get me wrong, I'm honestly beyond grateful, I just don't understand it. But, I guess we'll all be better off if I keep my mouth shut and don't ask questions.    

We take our seats and it's immediately clear that Benny is the least tense member of our group. He leans back in his seat, casually slouched to one side and plucks a menu off the table.    

I almost envy him. Never in my life have I been able to walk into a situation with that kind of nonchalance.     

Even Stella is sitting up straight, on the edge of her seat, her eyes darting around to each face. Although, something tells me it's not just anxiousness over this little meeting.    

Stella is the only one who knows all the gory details of my time with Justin and it's created a sisterly, protective kind of bond between us. In her eyes, Justin hurt me, therefore, he's earned a spot on her shit list.    

Then there's Lucas. On the surface, he looks just as bored with this as he does with anything else. But, with a closer look, it's easy to see his clenched jaw or the way his hand shakes in mine.    

"Hey guys. How's it going?" Jc smiles once we've settled in.     

He and Trace are all business, each of them with a stack of paperwork in front of them, while the space in front of Justin is empty.    

Justin's seat is several inches farther back from the table than anyone else's and it's clear as day that he's not paying the slightest bit of attention. Kind of makes you wonder why he's even here.    

Trace slides a sheet of paper in front of each of us as Jc begins to rattle off the details. I know I should be listening, but that dead look in Justin's eyes is the only thing I can focus on.    

Even after the bullshit we went through time and time again, he always managed to hold himself together. He had his moments, but he was usually the calm one. No matter what was happening, there was still some form of strength that practically rolled off of him.    

But it's gone now.    

The man sitting across from me has given up on everything. He's going through the motions to satisfy the people around him and I'd be a damn liar if I said it didn't break my heart a little. Especially knowing that I'm partly to blame, if not completely.    

If I had to guess, I'd say our fight the other night was probably the most emotion he's shown in months. He's just... lifeless. That's the only way to describe it.    

And I caused that.    

I ruined him.    

I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for it either.    

"The deal's just for one album now. Depending on how it sells, we'll be willing to renegotiate.  We'd like to have something out on the shelves within the next five or six months and if the first single does well, we can put together some promotion for the album and go from there. I know it's not exactly what you guys were looking for, but we want to be very careful with this."    

"Because Keri Butler tanked." Stella smirks as Justin winces.    

"That's... that's part of it, yes." Jc nods slowly. "But, it's not anything unusual these days. We'd like to test the waters before we push our luck. I'm sure you all can understand that."    

"What if the single bombs? Then what?" Lucas demands, his face flushing angrily. "You guys just gonna cut your losses or try again?"    

"We'll deal with that if and when the time comes." Jc shrugs. "But, based on your demos... that seems unlikely. Then throw Madison's writing ability in on top of that, plus a public interest in the fact that she disappeared for so long. I'm sure this will be seen as some sort of comeback and..."    

"Back up for just a second." Lucas chuckles darkly and shakes his head. "This is not her comeback... this isn't even her band, alright? I started this band, and the material we've got so far was written by all four of us. This is a band, not Madison Fox and her back up singers. She auditioned, just like the other two. If you're going to bill this as her comeback, you can fucking forget it."    

"Read your contract Lucas." Trace mutters and rolls his eyes. "It's plainly stated in there that all promotion will be for the band, and the band alone. You'll all be paid exactly the same, you'll all get the songwriting credit. You aren't going to find a more honest contract, you have my word on that."    

"It's legit man." Benny nods and digs a pen out of his pocket. "I just read the whole thing. I don't know about you guys... but I'm signing."    

Lucas turns to face me, a frown set firmly in place. "You're sure they're not going to fuck us?" He asks quietly.    

I glance at the three of them and take a deep breath. "Positive."    

"Alright." He nods and sits up straight again. "Anybody got a pen?"    

A minute or so passes before Stella hands me her pen and I stare down at the piece of paper in front of me.     

Signing this is going to change everything. I'm throwing myself back into the world I walked away from.     

I shake my head quickly, doing my best to shove every negative thought out of my head. I want this.    

I scribble my name across the bottom of the page and hand it back to Jc with a smile.

"Who's The Ledge?" I look up as Keri waves a magazine at me, a slightly confused look planted on her face.     

"A band." I shrug.    

If there is a god, he'll keep her from pushing this.     

We just finalized the contracts yesterday and by no means am I ready to tell Keri that my ex-girlfriend will be back in LA in a matter of days. That news will send her off the fucking deep end and I am so not in the mood to deal with that mess.    

"According to this, they're a band you just signed."    

So help me god, if there's any mention of Madison in that article, I will track down the writer and torture them in every disgusting way I can think of.    

Honestly, I don't even know how that's out already. I didn't do any kind of press release and it's not like Trace or Jc are talking to the media.    

Just goes to show that those assholes can get their hands on anything.     

"Yeah. We made it final yesterday."    

"Justin... that's great!" She smiles brightly and plops down across from me. "So... tell me about em. What's their sound? What're they like?"    

"They're... interesting." I shrug.    

How the hell am I supposed to answer those questions?    

We haven't recorded anything and outside of Madison, I don't know any of them. Plus... it hasn't even been 24 hours since we officially signed them. How would I know any of that crap?    

It's bad enough that she's controlling and manipulative, but does she have to be a fucking idiot to boot?    

I really know how to pick em, huh?    

I know I sound like an asshole and taking my stress out on Keri isn't exactly the best way to go, but it's so fucking easy. She may not be good for much else, but she does make an excellent punching bag.    

If I was smart, which I so obviously am not, I'd put a stop to this bullshit with her. Unfortunately, with Madison back in the picture, I need Keri more than ever.    

While Jc and Trace are off screwing around with Madison, I'm going to completely throw myself into working on Keri's next album.    

And maybe... maybe I should learn to accept the fact that Keri's probably the best I'm going to do now.     

I had exactly the kind of girl I wanted, but she didn't want me. Maybe I should just be happy that Keri actually does want me around. I mean, what's the point in moping about somebody who couldn't care less about me?    

And honestly, when she's not obsessing over work stuff, she's not so terrible. She can be kind of funny sometimes and she's not bad to look at. And, she's a fucking awesome cook.    

Maybe instead of worrying about Madison and all the bullshit that comes with her, I should focus on actually making something out of this thing with Keri.

****************    

I stroll into the office with Keri's hand wrapped firmly around mine and keep my eyes on the ground, hoping to avoid the curious stares being shot my way.    

Surprisingly, this whole thing isn't that terrible. Sure, the smug smile planted on her face is a tad off-putting, but it seems like my extra effort the last few days has put both of us in a permanent good mood.    

And really, I haven't even done that much yet.     

So far, I'm sticking to the basics, asking how her day was and genuinely caring about the answer, making sure not to snap at her over every little thing. And, there's definitely been more physical contact.    

It's taken some work, but every day it gets a little easier and less forced. So, all in all, I guess the effort is paying off.     

Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, I don't think I'll ever be able to honestly say I love her. But, I'm gonna give it the best shot I can.    

Keri comes to an abrupt halt behind me and I tug on her hand, encouraging her to keep moving. When she doesn't budge, I turn to face her and there's no mistaking the shock and anger quickly taking over her features.    

"Ker? C'mon... we're gonna be late. We've only got the studio for a couple hours." She doesn't say a word but keeps her eyes glued to the same spot across the lobby.    

I follow her line of vision and feel my stomach tighten when my gaze lands on the four figures seated side by side.    

Benny is on the left, his chin resting on his palms as he stares at the plaques lining the walls. Stella is on the right, leaning back against the wall and staring at the ceiling, looking utterly bored. Madison and Lucas are in the middle, resting against each other, appearing just as disinterested in their surroundings as their companions.    

I know I should try to calm the furious woman beside me, give her some type of explanation, but the only thought running through my head is that the image before me would make a perfect album cover.    

"Justin...what is she doing here?" Keri hisses and I'm suddenly snapped back to reality.    

Whether I lie or tell the truth, a fight is inevitable. The fact that Madison's even in this building is going to send Keri into hysterics and right here is the last place I want that to happen.    

Madison and her buddies don't need to see it and I don't want the embarrassment.    

"Keri, we're late. I'll explain upstairs."    

"Like hell you will." She growls and rips her hand from my grasp. Before I can reach out to stop her, she marches off toward the band. Madison looks up, her features just as cold and angry as Keri's.     

Jesus Christ... I think my life is flashing before my eyes. They're going to rip each other to shreds. But, based on the way their last physical fight played out, my money's on Madison. Keri stops in front of them and I take a deep breath.    

Lord, if they kill each other, please just make it quick and clean. I don't think the blood would come out of that Persian rug.     

"What are you doing here?" Keri demands, seething.    

"Waiting." Madison shrugs, a small smirk playing at her lips.    

I know that look. She's going to push every single button she can find and chances are good, I'll be the one suffering the consequences.    

"How about you? Obviously, you're not recording anything decent."        

Keri's hands ball into fists and I swallow hard. Not gonna lie, if she decks Madison right now, it's completely deserved.    

But, the thing that's got me a little confused is Madison's reacting like this. Sure, I know they don't like each other, but Madison's the one who pretty much pushed me toward Keri.    

Or, maybe I'm letting my arrogance show by thinking this is about me.     

Two girls who genuinely dislike each other are face to face for the first time in almost a year, of course some shit's gonna get started. This really shouldn't be a surprise.    

"Shows what you know." Keri scoffs and rolls her eyes. "But hey, better to be fighting the sophomore slump, than be some desperate has-been, looking for a comeback."    

"Well... to be a has-been, you had to be somebody in the first place. It's a shame you'll never fit in either category." Stella grins wickedly as Keri's eyes widen. "Run along now. Your master over there's waiting."    

The four of them erupt in a fit of laughter as Keri turns on her heel and heads in my direction. She doesn't say a word as she marches straight past me and down the hallway.    

It's a ten to one bet that I'm about to get my ass chewed out as soon as I get back there, so I have every intention of taking my sweet ass time.    

I glance at Madison and her band and can't help but frown. They're just so... fucking happy.    

Why can't I have that? Why do I have to work so god damn hard to cover up the fact that I'm miserable? Why am I trying to make Keri happy when I don't even like being around her?     

And, why am I letting Trace and Jc work with the band, when I so desperately want to?    

I think it's high time I stopped whining and moping, and take matters into my own hands. And, I really don't care who I piss off.    

For starters, as soon as the proper opportunity arises, I'm kicking Keri to the curb. And then, I'm putting myself in charge of the band's account. From here on out, I'm calling the shots.     

It's time to start making myself happy for a change.  

"So, Killing Time is out, right?" Jc sighs as he looks up from the sheet of paper in front of him.    

"Yeah, but All I Wanted is in." Lucas nods slowly.    

I swear, we've been locked in this studio for ten years.     

Ok fine, it's only been three hours, but it feels like a hell of a lot longer.    

Between the four of us, we have six notebooks full of lyrics and sheet music. I thought going through them and picking out the right songs to record would be a fairly quick and painless process, but apparently I was wrong.    

We can't agree on anything and this is taking ten times longer than it should. In three hours, we've selected two songs, which is pretty damn pathetic. God only knows what kind of hell will break loose when we decide on the songs that'll actually go on the album.    

The door to the studio opens and shuts quietly, but I don't look up until I feel Stella grab my wrist and inhale sharply.    

"Fucking hell... would you look at that?" She mumbles and I can't help but giggle. "That is one pretty, pretty boy." She sighs, never taking her eyes off the figure leaning against the door.    

I nod in agreement, doing my best to discreetly look him over. Heavy black boots, ripped jeans, form fitting gray T-shirt, perfectly shaped lips and insanely blue eyes. And if I'm not mistaken, a slight resemblance to Lucas, only younger and an inch or two taller.    

Definitely not bad to look at.    

But, I have no idea who he is, or why he's in our studio for that matter, and causing a massive distraction.    

Lucas is going to flip when he finally notices the fact that Stella's tongue is damn near on the floor, or that I can't seem to look away either.     

Suddenly, the room goes dead silent and all eyes are on our visitor. He shoves his hands into his pockets and shifts his weight awkwardly, a nervous smile in place.   

"Liam? What the hell are you doing here man?" Lucas laughs and hops out of his chair, crossing the room in a few quick strides to hug the younger man.     

"Heard you were in town... figured I'd drop by." He shrugs.    

Well that was... unexpected.     

Stella clears her throat loudly and I have to cough to hide my giggle. Subtlety definitely isn't one of her finer traits, to say the least.     

"Guys..." Lucas turns to face us, slinging an arm around Liam's neck. "This is my little brother Liam. Liam... this is... everybody."    

"Wouldn't exactly call him little." Stella mutters as she rises from the floor to introduce herself.     

"Mother of god... what kind of fucking genes are running in that family?" Benny mumbles to no one in particular.    

"Yeah... dude's aren't supposed to be that pretty. Compared to those two, the rest of us look like fucking gorillas." Trace shakes his head sadly.     

"Back off shitheads. The young one's mine and dear ol' Maddie has already laid her claim to the older, moody one." Stella grins as she plops back down on the floor.    

"Least we got each other." Benny shrugs.    

"Hear, hear." Trace nods as the two of them clink their beer bottles together before they each take a long swig.     

As stupid as it sounds, the only thing Liam's appearance has done is remind me that I don't know very much about Lucas.     

We spend our time writing, talking and music and pawing all over each other. Not exactly healthy, but it seems to be working for us. I like him, probably way more than I should, but I don't want to turn this into some serious, dramatic thing. I actually kind of like the simplicity of it.    

But, I feel like I should have known that he has a brother, or what his family's like, why he's so desperate to get into the music industry. Hell... I don't even know where the ego or the bitterness comes from.     

But, maybe that's why this is working. Because, if I'm being honest, he doesn't know a whole hell of a lot about me either.

******************    

I enter the house quietly and toss my bag onto the floor before taking a quick look around. The place is a fucking disaster, to put it mildly. It's taken us two weeks in a rented house to completely destroy it.    

Empty beer bottles and cans are littered across every surface. Sheets of paper are crumpled up and strewn about the floor, most likely from Lucas getting frustrated and trashing whatever he was working on. The half empty pizza box laying on the couch however, is the one thing that finally causes me to cringe.    

I shouldn't be too surprised to find the house in this shape. After all, the only time anyone's here is to sleep. Other than that, we're at the studio or the label, working out the details for the album. It's only been a week and a half, but thanks to the non-stop obsession we all seem to have, I think we're finally making some headway. Especially since Benny and Lucas have taken to sleeping at the studio several nights a week.    

And that's why I'm here at the crack of dawn. The boys spent the night in the studio working on sheet music, which left me in charge of picking up Stella and breakfast.    

Yeah, lucky me. Not.     

I take the stairs two at a time and knock loudly when I reach Stella's door. Nothing. I turn the doorknob and frown. Stella never locks her door. Even in Colorado, I could barge into her room whenever I damn well pleased. I knock again and finally hear footsteps. The door swings open and I inhale sharply before taking a step back.    

"Hey Madison." Liam smiles as he casually leans against the door frame, a towel wrapped around his waist.     

Well.... this is... different.    

"Umm... hi. Where's Stella?"    

"Shower."    

"O...ok... I'm...I'll just... I'm...gonna wait downstairs." I manage to sputter out before hauling ass back down the stairs.      

I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Has to be. I mean ok fine, yes... Stella was pretty much drooling over Liam yesterday, but she wouldn't.... no, she definitely wouldn't.     

She probably just offered him her room. Yeah... that's it. She slept on the couch and let Liam stay in her room because it's the cleanest in the house. The boys have a tendency to leave clothes and god only knows what else thrown all over the damn place in their own rooms.     

But, why is Liam staying here, when Lucas is at the studio?     

"Mornin' sunshine." Stella grins as she enters the living room. "We ready?"    

"What's he doing here?"    

"Caught that, eh?" She chuckles and shakes her head. "You're a smart girl Mads... do the math."    

"Christ Stella... he's Lucas's brother!"    

"I'm aware of that." She shrugs as we head out of the house. "Your point?"    

"He's going to shit. You have to know that."    

"And that is precisely why he won't find out." She sighs. "Look... it's nothing, alright? He's pretty... we had our fun. End of story, ok?"    

"It's bad band etiquette!"    

"Yeah well... so is sleeping with the lead guitarist, but nobody's jumping your shit, are they?"    

"That's... that's different." I mumble stupidly.    

She's got me there. But still... this is just... not right. I mean... if Lucas wasn't so... weird about certain things, it wouldn't be an issue. But, there's never any way to tell how he'll react to something. Unfortunately, I have a funny feeling he won't exactly be jumping for joy over this.    

"How so? Cause the way I see it... you two screwing around could very well mess up this good thing we seem to have landed ourselves in."

"Because.... because... Lucas isn't half my age!"     

"Shit Madison... I'm 33... not 46." She snorts.     

"He's 23?"    

"Yes ma'am." Stella grins. "I'd be more than happy to provide a full analysis of our evening if you'd like to hear it."    

"Spill." I giggle as she launches into the various dirty details.     

What Lucas doesn't know won't hurt him, right?    

**************** 

I make it to the studio in almost record time and quickly follow Stella inside.    

As we walk the hallways, I can't help thinking how new all of this feels to me. It's kind of strange, actually. Everything we're doing now, I've already done a hundred times over, but it's not repetitive or boring. It's like I'm experiencing it all for the first time and I'm definitely not complaining, I just can't figure it out.    

Maybe it's because I'm not on my own this time or maybe it's because I'm just in the right frame of mind. Either way, I'm glad it all seems to be working out.     

We finally reach our studio and as soon as Stella opens the door, we're met with the angry shouting of two familiar voices.    

"Look... it's my label asshole. If I want to get involved, I fucking will."    

"That wasn't part of the deal! We were promised that you'd stay out of this."

"Well... I guess that's just too damn bad, ain't it?" Justin smirks as Lucas finally shuts his mouth. "Now... you can either work with me, or find a new label. I don't care about any of your personal bullshit. We're here to record an album. Outside these walls, you can hate me and talk as much shit as you want, but in here... I expect some fucking respect and cooperation. We clear?"    

"Crystal." Lucas mutters and throws himself into a chair.    

Well... it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see what's going on here. Justin's come to baby sit.     

Can't say I blame him, really. If it was my label and my first act tanked as badly as Keri did, I'd be ten times more involved with the second.    

But, part of me can't help wondering if he's doing this out of spite. It wasn't hard to see that he had no desire to sign us. Jc and Trace so obviously talked him into it. What if he's here to make everyone miserable as payback?    

As much as I'm gonna hate doing it, I think Justin and I need to have a little chat.   

I cross the room to the sound board where he's standing with Jc and lightly tap him on the shoulder. He turns to face me and his smile immediately falls.    

"What?"        

"Can we talk?"    

"Honestly Madison... I'm really not interested in anything you have to say." He rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. "Unless this is about the album... keep it to yourself."    

"All work related... scout's honor." I nod seriously and head for the door. It takes him a moment or two, but he follows reluctantly.     

"So... do we have a problem?" He asks quietly as he steps out into the hallway and shuts the door behind him.    

"Depends." I shrug. "Why are you suddenly so hell bent on working with us?"    

"As the owner of the label, I believe it's my right."    

Ok, he's got a point.    

But, I know him. Well, I used to... and the Justin I knew was far too self centered to be that logical.    

He constantly preached at me about keeping my personal shit separate from business, but obviously that line is a little blurry for him too. Or, he's just the world's biggest hypocrite.    

"Look... if you're trying to spite me or something... don't do it like this. They worked damn hard to get here and shouldn't have to pay for what I did."    

"Aw Madison..." He chuckles darkly and shakes his head. "Sweetheart, when are you going to learn that the whole fucking world doesn't revolve around you? If I was here to spite you, that would imply that I still give a shit, which I don't. I'm funding this album, and I want to make sure Jc and Trace don't fuck it up. You may still have delusions that there's something between us, but I don't. It's just business."    

"If it's just business, why'd you turn us down at first?"    

"I wasn't impressed with what I saw." He says simply and shrugs. "Your voice is rusty. Lucas's talent doesn't back up his arrogance. Benny spends too much time fucking around and trying to be funny. Stella loses the beat sometimes. You all need some work and I saw that."    

"Then why'd you change your mind?"     

"Because raw talent gives me something to work with. You all could be huge with some fine tuning. That's why I'm here. I can't afford another crash and burn."    

"So this isn't about me?"    

"Not at all." He shakes his head slowly. "If you feel too guilty to be around me or some shit... sorry, but you're gonna have to suck it up and deal with it. You were in the wrong Madison... not me. And I'm done putting my life on hold because of you." He shrugs again before turning and walking back into the studio.    

When the hell did he get so mean?    

And why do I find it slightly attractive?    

I shake my head quickly and head back inside. Me and Justin are done. Have been for quite some time. He's got Keri and I've... well, I guess I've got Lucas.    

But, I'd be a damn liar if I said I didn't get knots in my stomach whenever Justin's around. But... that has to just be guilt or something. I got over him a long time ago.    

But then again... nothing with Lucas makes me feel the way something as stupid as arguing with Justin feels.

***************    

I follow Lucas up the walkway and frown as he heads straight for the door. He hasn't said a single word about what happened at the studio and I'm beginning to wonder if he ever will.    

Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I think he may have overreacted to Justin showing up, just a tad. I mean sure... we were promised that Justin wouldn't have anything to do with the recording of our album. But, if you look at it from a strictly business point of view... it does make sense to have him around.    

Even an idiot can admit that Justin's insanely talented, whether it be in the realm of producing, writing or performing. He knows his shit and I can almost guarantee his experience would come in handy.     

You'd think Lucas would be thrilled to have someone like that involved. He wants us to put out the best material we can, so it would only make sense to have someone like Justin helping us along the way.    

Instead, he completely freaked out and I think a lot of it's because of me. Lucas knows there's some major history with Justin. I'm not sure why, but it's almost like he's.... intimidated, I guess is the right word, by it.     

But really, what gives him the right? There's no label on whatever the hell it is we're doing. He doesn't have a claim over me, no right to be jealous or paranoid.    

Unfortunately, deep down, I know his paranoia, if that's even what it actually is, is completely warranted.     

I spent the entire day with my eyes damn near glued to Justin, or trying to find some way to get closer to him. If he moved to sit across the room, I followed. If he went to the board to replay something, I had to be right there observing. As stupid as it sounds, it was like he became a magnet or something.     

It became almost impossible for me to be more than a few feet away from him. And that's when it hit me.     

I miss him.     

I have all along.

"Maybe if we loop that bass line...."    

"It won't work." I mutter and roll my eyes, ignoring the pout Keri shoots my way.    

We walked into this studio today with some really great ideas, but when we started actually working on the shit... well... it sucked. And that's being nice.     

I'm really not sure what the hell is happening here. It's like no matter what I do, nothing with her works. Recording, writing... even our half ass relationship doesn't work. And her fucking nagging isn't helping either.    

I know she's trying to make herself useful and be more involved this time, but the only thing she's succeeding at is getting on my last damn nerve. I'm starting to feel like I'm suffocating or something.    

Granted, I know a big part of the problem is me too. I would so much rather be down the hall with Madison and I guess it's got me a little agitated. I was really trying to convince myself this was all just business, but... that doesn't seem to be the case anymore.     

I really need to get the hell out of here before I totally lose my damn mind.    

"You know what... it's getting late, let's just call it a day, alright?"    

"Something wrong?"    

"No... I'm just tired and I think we need a break from this. Nothing's working out right." I sigh and rub my face tiredly for emphasis.    

"Oh....alright." She nods slowly, a slightly dejected look spreading across her face. "If you think it'll help."    

"Definitely." I force a smile as we both exit the studio. "I've got a couple errands to run, so I'll see you back at the house later." She frowns, but nods before heading down the hallway.    

Once she's out of ear shot, I dig my phone out of my pocket and dial Trace's number as quickly as my fingers will allow.    

"What's up?" I know he's practically screaming into the phone, but I have to strain to hear him over the background noise.    

"Where the hell are you?"    

"A club with the band and Jc....well... most of the band. Madison ditched us at the studio this morning."    

Well... that's odd. I was under the impression that Madison and her band were up each others asses constantly.         

"Her and Luke got into some big ass fight and she took off. Haven't heard from her since." He says before I have the chance to ask.    

"About what?"    

I really, really don't need this shit already. If those two are fighting and Madison decides to disappear for good, we're all fucked. And not in the fun way.    

"Well, first they were arguing over some songs she just wrote, then he started accusing her of.... some stuff. That's all I know man."    

Some things never change, I guess. After all this time, she still runs away when shit gets tough. Typical Madison.     

"Anybody know where the hell she is? She can't do this shit Trace, and it's your responsibility to keep them in fucking line!"    

"Chill, kemosabe." He laughs loudly and I can just see him rolling his eyes. "Stella said she's been hanging out at some artsy fartsy coffee shop on Third. They have an open mic night three nights a week and she's been testing material down there."        

Somehow, that doesn't seem all that shocking.     

Even now, I think recording doesn't really matter to her. At the end of the day, she wants to sit in front of an audience, play her guitar and sing her songs. It's always been about performance for her. Probably always will be.    

"Alright. Get them home early. They've got studio time in the morning."    

"You got it boss man. Later." The line goes dead and I snap my phone shut before stuffing into my pocket and heading for my car.     

I'm sure by the end of the night, I'll want to add this to the endless list of stupid shit I've done, but I want to see her. And I really want to know what the hell Mr. perfect did to piss her off.     

Granted, I don't know exactly what she's got going with this guy, but I don't like it. And it has absolutely nothing to do with our history.     

Something about him just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe it's the condescending way he talks to everybody, or it could just be the simple fact that both of our egos are entirely too large to mesh very well.     

It takes me roughly 45 minutes to get across town and find the coffee shop Trace was talking about. As I approach the front door, I can easily spot half a dozen people in their mid-20's, dressed in all black, eyes glued to their laptops, large coffee cups littered across the tables.     

Some of the most out there, abstract pieces of art I've ever seen line the walls, along with various band and movie posters. As I step inside, the scent of coffee and clove cigarettes hits me and I can't help but wrinkle my nose as my eyes water.     

No one seems the least bit interested in my presence, so I find a table as far away from the make shift stage as I can manage.     

The place is pretty much what I expected. Dim lighting, full of stoners and intellectual types. I haven't got the slightest fucking clue why Madison would choose this place to hang out in. This is so far away from her usual scene, it's almost comical.     

Several minutes pass before the house lights are shut off completely and a stool is placed on the small stage as a single spotlight comes on.     

Madison steps onto the stage, guitar in hand and takes her seat, a nervous smile firmly in place. She adjusts the mic stand and clears her throat.    

"Uhh... hey guys." She chuckles and rolls her eyes.     

Something tells me even she has no idea why she's trying. It's so obvious that not a single person here is paying any attention to her. Save for me, but she doesn't need to know that right now.     

"I just recently wrote this... so it may be a little sloppy in places." She shrugs, finally giving up on her speech. She diverts her eyes to her hands and a soft melody fills the silent building.

I miss those blue eyes
How you kissed me at night
I miss the way we sleep

Like there's no sunrise
Like the taste of your smile
I miss the way we breathe

But I never told you
What I should have said
No I never told you
I just held it in
And now I miss everything
About you
Can't believe that I still want you
After all the things we've
Been through
I miss everything about you
Without you

I see your blue eyes
Every time I close mine
You make it hard to see
Where I belong to when I'm not
Around you
Its like I'm not with me

But I never told you
What I should have said
No I never told you
I just held it in
And now I miss everything
About you
Still you're gone
Can't believe that I still want
You
After all the things we've
Been through
I miss everything about you
Without you     

The crowd claps politely, and all I can do is sit here with my fucking mouth hanging open.        

I know a lot of Madison's stuff is open to interpretation. You could swear up and down it's about one thing, when in reality, it's the complete opposite of what you thought. But that... that was so blatantly fucking obvious it's unreal.     

And now what the hell am I supposed to do? Sneak out of here, like I never heard that? Yeah, that oughta make work nice and awkward for me.     

But, if I approach her and try to talk about this, she's going to flip. I can just hear her telling anyone who'll listen that her crazy ex-boyfriend is stalking her.     

Which, really... is it actually stalking when said ex-boyfriend has a shit ton of money invested in you and wants to make sure the whole thing doesn't blow up in his face?    

And unfortunately, I've got a funny feeling that I think I know what she and Lucas were fighting about now.     

I stay seated as she steps off the stage and quickly shoves her guitar in the case before hauling ass out of the cafe.         

Go after her, or stay?    

Aw, fuck it. No matter what I do, things are going to be weird. Besides, Trace probably suspected I'd be coming here, and Lord knows he can't keep his big ass mouth shut.    I quickly rise from my seat and exit the building, spotting her right away as she heads for her car.     

"Madison!" I call out and can't help but chuckle when she jumps and spins around to face me.    

"Oh...hey." She swallows hard, eyes wide. "What the hell are you doing here?"        

Well... I was trying to convince myself that I was here solely to protect my investment, when in all honesty... I just wanted to see you.    

Yeah, that'll go over real well. Not.    

"Heard some shit went down this morning. I wanted to make sure you weren't taking off again."    

"So sorry to disappoint you, but no... I'm staying put." She mutters, slamming the trunk of her car shut. "So there... you checked up on me. Happy now?"    

I really shouldn't be all that surprised she's going on the defensive, and after the way I've been treating her lately, I really don't blame her.     

But, after seeing her in there, all vulnerable and spilling her guts... I guess it's softened me up and a lot of old shit is starting to resurface, and I'm not really sure how I feel about that yet.     

Because, I don't give a shit what she or anybody else says... I know that song was about me.     

"Look... I just... I wanted to make sure everything was alright. Trace said-"

"Trace says a lot of shit and most of the time, he's talking out of his ass." She sighs and rolls her eyes. "What do you want Justin?"    

"I just fucking told you. I wanted to make sure you were ok."    

"Right." She laughs darkly and shakes her head. "What happened to all the 'it's just business' bullshit? Honestly Justin... I can't keep up with this bi-polar shit tonight... I'm not in the mood."    

"I was in the coffee shop." I say quickly and wince as an angry scowl takes over her features.    

Damn... she's still kinda fucking scary when she's mad.    

"So what... now you're following me around? I knew this was a shitty idea! I knew we should have gone with another label, but I was trying so hard to be open minded and of course, it's blowing up in my face. Look... yes, you may be in charge of my career now... but what I do in my free time is my own god damn business and it's none of your concern!"    

"Will you shut up and listen to me for two damn seconds? Jesus woman!"    

I am really trying to stay calm here and knowing that she's probably just upset about whatever happened with Lucas is the only thing keeping me from going right back at her.   

"I just want to know if that was about me."    

She frowns and rolls her eyes again. "Great. Here we go again... Justin... everything I do is not centered around you, alright? I had a shitty day and wrote a song. Story of my life."    

She's lying. And even Stevie Wonder could see through that shit.    

"He thinks you're still in love with me."    

"Yeah... he does. So what?"    

"So, are you?"    

She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can utter a single word, my body seems to react on it's own and in a split second, my lips are on hers.    

"I Never Told You"- Colbie Caillat 

I use every ounce of force in my body and roughly shove Justin away from me, shooting him the most disgusted glare I can manage.    

"What. The. Fuck." I spit out, my hands balling into fists at my sides.     

Has he completely lost his damn mind? I mean seriously, what the hell was the point of that? And what's the deal with this 'do you love me' crap? After the beyond shitty day I've just had, the last thing I need is Justin's nonsense.    

All I wanted to do was come down here, play a song or two, then go home and stuff my face with ice cream or something. Is that too much to ask?    

Must be, because now I've got not one, but two completely fucking insane men giving me a bunch of shit.    

I honestly don't know what Lucas' problem was this morning. When we got to the studio, he seemed perfectly fine. But, as soon as he started going through my notebook, he did a complete 180. He started snapping at everything I said. According to him, none of what I've written lately was any good, maybe I'm past my prime, maybe I don't belong in the band.    

I spent the entire morning tuning him out, because I just didn't feel like arguing with him. Then, as if he wasn't being a big enough dick already, he just had to go a bring up Justin.     

If I'd had any clue that being around Justin again would cause this much drama, I'd have avoided it at all costs. But then again... my life is like one giant circus of insanity, so I really shouldn't be all that surprised.    

"Come on Madison... I heard that song. You miss me. Admit it so we can talk about this."    

As cocky as ever, ain't he?    

I mean, ok fine... he may be right, but that doesn't mean he's gotta gloat about it like an asshole. And I am so not about to stand here and tell him that he's right. His ego doesn't need that kind of ammunition.     

I don't even understand why he's doing this. He couldn't possibly want me back... could he?    

Wait a second....    

"Justin... I could have sworn that you have a girlfriend."    

He rolls his eyes and frowns, but it passes quickly. In a split second, he's on the defensive and I know I'm in for an earful. "You know what... you're right. I do have a girlfriend."    

"Oh... I guess it slipped your fucking mind?" I mutter angrily.    

I don't think anyone on the planet could piss me off the way he does.    

"No. I just thought... I thought maybe there was still a little bit of the old Madison in there somewhere, but you've changed completely and... you know what...... forget it. Have a nice night." He rolls his eyes again and moves to turn around.    

What the hell? Is he fucking bi-polar or something?    

"So, that's it then?" I call after him and he turns back around to face me. "You came all the way down here just to stir up a bunch of shit, then you take off?"

"Just taking a page out of your book, sweetheart." He smirks wickedly and I have to fight the urge to slap the shit out of him.     

I swear to Christ, I really can't handle this shit anymore.  Lucas and his mood swings, Stella screwing around with Liam, the stress of recording, Jc obsessing over our time limit, and of course Justin... well, being Justin.     

It's all getting to be a little too much and it's driving me fucking crazy.    

I'm starting to think the only sane people around here are Benny and Trace, and that's just fucking scary.        

"You know what... fine by me. Outside of the studio... I don't want to see your stupid face or hear your nasally ass voice. Stay away from me Justin." I give him one final glare and turn to climb into my car.    

"Oh trust me, with the way you run from everything, that won't be hard to do." He shakes his head and chuckles softly before heading in the other direction.    

One day, I'm going to end up in prison for killing his ass, I just know it.

*****************   

Can't make my own decisions
Or make any with precision
Well maybe you should tie me up
So I don't go where you don't want me

You say that I been changing
That I'm not just simply aging
Yeah how could that be logical?
Just keep on cramming ideas down my throat

You don't have to believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror    

I stand behind the sound board with the rest of the band and listen to the playback, bobbing my head in time to the beat. I don't know what anybody else thinks, but it sounds pretty damn good to me.    

Then again, I may be a little biased seeing as how I wrote it.     

I keep my eyes focused on the board, not daring to look at a single face in the room, one in particular.    

After the big blow up, kissing incident the other night, I went straight home and as usual, wrote it all down. I will say one thing for Justin, his bullshit and drama seems to do good things for my creativity.

If God's the game that you're playing
Well we must get more acquainted
Because it has to be so lonely
To be the only one who's holy

It's just my humble opinion
But it's one that I believe in
You don't deserve a point of view
If the only thing you see is you

I know you don't believe me
But the way I, way I see it
Next time you point a finger
I might have to bend it back
Or break it, break it off
Next time you point a finger
I'll point you to the mirror    

"I'm impressed." Jc nods as he turns around to face us. "One take and it's almost perfect."    

"I don't know man." Justin shrugs and I'm hoping I'm not the only one who can hear the sarcasm in his tone. "Sounds a little whiney to me."    

"Kinda funny coming from the king of singing through your nose." I mutter and roll my eyes before plopping down on the couch.     

His smug, shitty little comments are a sure sign that he got the hint. Because oh yes, that one is completely about him.     

After what happened at the coffee shop, it all just kind of clicked.     

Justin is a massively self centered hypocrite.     

He's so damn quick to judge and blame me, but he's never taken a good, long, hard look at himself. I'm not saying I'm innocent in any way, shape or form, but he's just as guilty as I am. He ran away just as much as I did. He blew things off too.     

And, he doesn't seem the least bit concerned that he cheated on his girlfriend. Granted, I'd be the first in line to watch Keri suffer, but there's some shit you just don't do. And the fact that he expected me to be ok with it is mind blowing.    

I know I've changed. I think it's been for the better, but there's still a lot of shit that's the same as it's always been. And my stance on cheating and trust hasn't budged an inch.    

I just wish there was some way to slap some sense into him, make him see the things it took me so long to figure out. But, Justin's going to do whatever the hell Justin wants. Which apparently includes being a broody, bitter, miserable, vindictive little brat.     

But, that's fine. There's no point in trying to get through to somebody like that and I'm done wasting my time. He wants to be shitty and mean, I'll be just as bad.    

"Umm... I don't know what you were listening to, but it sounded just fine to me." Trace shrugs. "We could always play it again."    

"Nah, it's cool. I honestly don't think my ears could take it." Justin sighs mockingly and shakes his head. "If you guys like it, then by all means, use it. It's your album."        

"Dude... what is your fucking problem?" Lucas shoves him and a knot immediately forms in my stomach. "I get that it may not be your thing, and I'm so sorry we aren't writing some jungle chant bullshit that only makes sense to 13 year old girls, but seriously... who signs a band and shits all over them like this?"    

"Number one... you might wanna step the fuck back. Number two...I'm here to give an opinion. In case you didn't see em... there's a shit ton of platinum records and awards in the lobby, proving that I know my shit. I call em like I see em and I'm not gonna blow smoke up your ass. If it sucks, I'm going to tell you it sucks. It's called doing my job." Justin's face is turning a scary shade of red and the room is full of tension and dead silence.     

This shit only happens to me, I swear.     

"Alright then... if you two are finished with your pissing contest, we can get back to work." Stella clears her throat before marching toward the booth.     

"Oh trust me Stel... there's no contest." Lucas smirks as he grabs his guitar and follows her.     

"Hey J... those platinum records and shit are all yours, right?" Trace asks suddenly, a wicked grin planted on his face.    

"Yeah. Your point?"    

"Well... wouldn't that prove that your producers knew their shit? It's not like Keri's got any awards or platinum records up there... which would mean-"    

"Fuck off Trace." Justin mutters before retreating to the back of the room and throwing himself into a chair.     

Something tells me this may be the least fun album to record in the history of music.

********************    

"Hey... you up?" My bedroom door opens and Lucas peers in curiously.    

"Yeah." I nod slowly and toss my notebook onto the nightstand. "What's up?"    

"I was thinking we could talk... about some of the shit that's been happening the last few days."    

Great. Here we go again.     

Maybe I'm crazy, but I'm beginning to see a major pattern with him. He says something shitty, acts like an asshole for a few days, then wants to apologize. To be honest, I'm getting a little bored with it.     

Part of me understands though. If our situations were reversed, and he'd been the one in the high profile relationship with some monster star, I'd probably be acting the same way.     

Justin as a whole, isn't intimidating, but the package and notoriety he comes with, is.     

Someone who doesn't know him very well is going to see what's presented to the media and the public. An insanely talented, charming man with more money than ten people could spend in a lifetime, he's respected by 90 percent of the industry and the entire world adores him. Throw the looks, attitude and sometimes decent personality on top of that, and yeah... it's easy to see why a guy like Lucas would feel a little inferior.     

And believe me, I'm not saying Justin is better than Lucas or anything, they're just... different.    

Justin's an out going, attention whore. Lucas is much more reserved and guarded. Justin's had the world handed to him on a silver platter, practically since birth. Lucas has been busting his ass for years and is just now getting somewhere.     

I don't like it, but I understand it. So, maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him the benefit of the doubt.     

"Talk away."    

"I've been a total dick lately and I owe you a huge, huge apology." He sighs as he sits down across from me. "I know we haven't really gotten into exactly what's happening here and I know that's my fault. And really... because there's no commitment here, it's not my place to get all shitty about Justin. I just... Stella told me a lot of what went down, and sometimes you look at him like... fuck, I don't know. I just... I'm in this a lot deeper than I thought I'd be and believe it or not Madison... you've got me really fucked up. Like... I don't know what I'm doing half the time and I act like an asshole and... I'm rambling." He chuckles nervously and rolls his eyes.     

Ok, honestly... how could you not find him adorable after that?    

I know most of the time he comes across as an arrogant asshole, but then... then there's a moment like this and I can clearly see that the whole bad ass thing is just a front. It's how he protects himself and I get it. I really do. But, I don't know how much more of the hot and cold bullshit I can take.     

Because, he's sitting here saying all of this now, but what's gonna happen in a couple days when he sees or hears something he doesn't like?    

And if I'm being completely honest with myself, I'm not sure how genuine my feelings for him really are. I like him, that much I'm sure of.     

But, there's still Justin.     

Justin, who makes me want to put my fist through a wall. Justin, who, no matter how much he denies it, knows me better than anyone else on the face of the earth. I've been through hell and back with him, and I guess that's something I'm probably never going to forget.     

I want to hate him. Believe me... I would love to. But, no matter how hard I try, I just can't.     

I've spent all this time fighting it, but it's been staring me straight in the face all along.     

I love him. And I desperately want him back.     

But, I'm faced with the same exact problem I had three years ago.... he doesn't want me.     

"I can't do this." I mumble stupidly. "Lucas... I'm sorry... but I just... can't. He's... Justin's... he's it."    

His face falls and I'm quickly feeling like the biggest bitch on the planet. For once in my life, I'm confronting something head on and being honest... and I feel like absolute shit for it.     

"Why do you do this to yourself?" He laughs bitterly and rolls his eyes. "Madison... he doesn't want you. I know you don't want to hear it, but it's the fucking truth. He treats you like shit, and you're convinced you're still in love with somebody like that? I know there's a history, and I know it'll take you a long damn time to get over it, but I honestly think it's time to give it up, and I'm not just saying that for my benefit. I'm here... and I lo-care... I care about you... and maybe you're confused... but I know that somewhere in there, you feel the same exact way."    

Fuck.    

Deep down, I know he's right. He just said everything I need to hear and maybe... maybe it'll actually do me some good.     

"Just... just give me some time, alright?"    

"Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere." He grins before planting a kiss on my forehead and sauntering out of the room.     

Justin was a mistake from day one. I've known that all along. Maybe I need to start finally using my head.    

Maybe it's time to finally give it up and do what's best for me, rather than what I want.

"Playing God"-Paramore

"Try it again. Less vibrato." Jc sighs, releasing the mic button on the board in front of him. He leans back in his chair and rubs his face tiredly before looking over at me. "It's three am man and we're almost done here. Just go home."    

"Nah, I'm cool." I shrug, flipping through the magazine in my lap.    

Any second now, he's going to start up a round of twenty questions and I'm not so sure I've got the energy to answer him.    

Since the incident at the coffee shop, I haven't been sleeping much. Which is exactly why I'm still here. May as well make my insomnia useful, right?    

I'll admit, now that I've had time to think about it, I know I kissed her out of sheer arrogance. I thought I had her backed into a corner.    

I've spent all this time missing her, and I thought I was finally seeing that she felt the same. It was a twisted way to get even, I guess. I honestly thought she'd cave and admit that she wanted me back, then I could leave her high and dry the way she did me.    

But, it didn't quite work out the way I planned.    

It's been almost three weeks and all I can do is think about how good it felt to be that close to her again. How, as hard as I've been trying, I don't hate her. Not in the least. But, it's so much easier to pretend I do.    

Luckily, she has no desire to even speak to me, so it's pretty much been a piece of cake to hide everything and push it off to the side. But, it really fucking sucks.     

Jc yawns loudly and I can't help but feel bad. Dude is starting to look like total shit. Dark circles and bags under his eyes, he can't focus, the whole nine yards. I'm kind of starting to feel like it's my fault.    

I gave him a pretty short time limit for this album, so he's been busting his ass day and night. Which is why we're here, recording vocals at three in the fucking morning.    

"Jace, man... take off. I can finish this up."    

"I'm cool." He shrugs. "Besides... I'm not so sure leaving you two alone is such a great idea."    

"I am the epitome of professional." I laugh and rise from my seat. "Seriously man, get out of here and get some sleep. You look like a fucking corpse."    

"You sure?" I nod in response and he immediately hits his mic button again. "Madison... I'm heading out, but Justin's gonna finish up with you."        

She rolls her eyes and nods, shuffling through the papers on the stand in front of her.    

"Good luck." He chuckles before grabbing his things and heading for the door.     

Well... this isn't awkward or anything.     

"What do you want me to do?" Her voice seems to echo throughout the room and suddenly, I'm thinking that letting Jc leave, wasn't one of my better ideas.    

I mean... the last time I was alone with her kind of ended in disaster. Plus, I can't even remember the last time we had an actual conversation. It's been... fuck... two years?    

The last several months of our relationship was like, one long ass, continuous fight. I have no fucking idea how to talk to this woman anymore.    

"What were you and Jace doing?"    

She rolls her eyes again and marches out of the booth. "The whole band was here earlier. We laid down the track for this, but I can't seem to nail the vocals." She shrugs and shoves a sheet of paper into my hands.    

"It's the wrong key for your voice." I nod slowly, my eyes scanning over the page. "Probably because Lucas wrote it. Personally, I think you'd be better off if he took lead on it. Show some versatility."    

She's gonna blow up on me, I guaran-fucking-tee it. She's always been freakishly overprotective of her music and I'm sure this will be no different. That paired with the fact that I'm the one suggesting the change is a recipe for disaster.    

I probably should have just kept my damn mouth shut.    

"Ya know..." She sighs and plops down in the chair next to me. "I think you're right. This is so like... an angry boy song." She giggles and rolls her eyes. "So, now what?"    

"I guess we take off." I shrug. "Unless you've got something else..."    

"Nah, not really."    

The room goes silent, and that's when it hits me. There's one thing I've been dying to hear her sing. I don't even really know why. Closure, maybe? To see just how sincere the words really are? Because I'm some kind of fucked up masochist?    

She's gonna think I'm completely off my rocker if I bring this up. But... she already loathes me. Does it really matter if she thinks I'm fuckin nuts too?    

I pull the tattered, folded up sheet of paper out of my pocket and hand it to her. "You could always try this." She unfolds it delicately, and when she reads over the first few words, her eyes widen.    

"Holy shit... you kept this?"    

"Yeah." I laugh nervously and shrug. "Thought it might come in handy some day."    

"Huh. I kinda figured you woulda thrown it away or something. I know I wasn't exactly your favorite person in the world when I sent it to you."    

This is just... really fucking weird.    

But, it's a good weird. We haven't been this civil for a long ass time and it feels good. Granted, this could be a one time deal, but it's like I ran into an old friend I haven't seen in years or something.    

"Yeah you were Madison. I just... a lot of shit was happening and I couldn't find a way to balance it all out."    

I wish someone could explain to me why it's so easy to get along with her, when all I really want to do is hate her. If we didn't have all this crazy shit going on and were able to be perfectly fine, I guarantee you, we'd be at each other's throats right now.    

I don't know why, but it's like, it can't ever be simple with us. It always has to be all tense and fucking dramatic. Like, we bring out the worst in each other.    

But, it worked.    

It was fucked up and stupid and melodramatic, but it was us, and it worked.    

"Well hey, least you're happy now." She forces a smile and slaps my knee. "Lord knows Keri worked really hard for that."    

Keri. Ugh.    

I don't even want to talk about that mess.    

Her second album is pretty much finished and it's like... I'm just not interested. I don't care about promoting it or getting her on the road. Because, deep down... I know it's just another failure. The girl's talented, that much is for sure. But, the public can see through the "I'm so sweet and innocent" act she's got going and they're just not connecting with her, at all.    

So... I'm gonna have to cut her loose in every way, shape and form. And I know it needs to be soon. I just need to get up the nerve to actually do it.    

I guess I'm dragging my feet cause I know it's gonna fucking kill her and I really don't want to be responsible for that. But... it's a dirty job, and somebody's gotta do it.    

Unfortunately, that somebody is me.    

"You know that doesn't mean anything, right?" I mutter, keeping my eyes focused on the floor.    

She can't honestly think this whole Keri thing is for real. She has to know me well enough to see that I'm just not into it.    

"Never really thought about it." She shrugs. "She wanted you. You were borderline obsessed with her. It made sense. I hated it... but it made sense."    

Holy shit... that's it.     

That's why she left. She got it stuck in her head that I wanted Keri, and her stubborn ass had no intention of changing her mind.     

And my actually being with Keri, has done nothing to prove her wrong.     

Way to go, dipshit. Jesus... I really know how fuck something up, don't I?    

I know I should have realized all of this a long time ago. I was just... entirely too stubborn to listen. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought she was just jealous. Clearly, I thought wrong.    

"It wasn't like that. I was-"

"You were what, Justin? Stupid? Selfish? Arrogant? I told you exactly what she was and what she was doing, and you refused to listen. Look... I know I had a big hand in running everything into the ground, but I'm done harping on it. It's over. We've both got what we wanted, which is probably a hell of a lot more than we deserve. Trust me... we're better off to just leave it." She gives me a short nod, putting an end to the conversation. "So... you sure you wanna work on this one?"    

"Yep."    

"Alright then. I had some ideas when I wrote it, so we can play around with it a little." She shrugs, then grabs her guitar before heading into the booth.    

Just like that, we're back to square one.    

But, there's cracks in the front she's putting on, and that's all I need.    

The Madison I know, doesn't budge when she's being honest. So, she can tell me she's over it, that she's moved on. But, it's bullshit, and the conversation we just had proves it.    

Nothing's changed. We're still the same people we were when we met three years ago. Once she finally realizes that, figuring everything else out will be a piece of cake.

It’s no secret that Madison Fox’s life is full of dramatic event after dramatic event.

The singer reached superstardom virtually overnight. Her A-list status made her a prime tabloid target and she gave them plenty of ammunition. Hard partying. Quickie nuptials to a childhood friend, followed by an even fast annulment.

A year later, Fox found herself in the middle of another surprising marriage, this time to pop star, Justin Timberlake.

By all accounts, the couple was happy. Timberlake appeared in one of Fox’s music videos, the two were spotted at countless events together and even welcomed Rolling Stone into the home they shared, for an in-depth interview. However, the couple was still plagued by rumors of infidelity and divorce.

Fox seemed to slowly spiral out of control as the media intrusion on her life intensified. In January of 2008, she was arrested for public intoxication and indecent exposure. The singer pled guilty to both charges and paid a few small fines.

Several months after her arrest, Fox’s camp announced that she and Timberlake would be divorcing, citing irreconcilable differences. Although, rumors swirled that the two were still involved. Shortly after the couple’s divorce, Fox fired manager Jc Chasez, who later wrote a tell-all book exposing the Fox-Timberlake union as a sham, created by Timberlake’s management.

Once their divorce was finalized, the pair struck up an actual relationship and stayed together for nearly two years. The down fall of their relationship is credited to Timberlake retiring from performing to start his own record label, and a drug problem that landed Fox in a rehabilitation clinic for sixty days.

After her stint in rehab, Fox decided to step out of the spotlight. She cut ties with former record label, RCA and many speculated that she’d retired completely. That speculation ended four months ago when Fox was spotted entering Timberlake’s Tennman studios.

In June, Timberlake announced that he’d signed a new act to his label, in hopes of rectifying the failure of his first artist, Keri Butler.

The Ledge started out as a Fleetwood Mac cover band in Bayfield, Colorado. Fox joined the line-up after the original lead singer left to raise her children. The band quickly took off, thanks to Fox’s guidance and powerhouse vocals. They signed with Tennman Records in May, and even managed to reign in Fox’s former manager, JC Chasez, to help helm their career.

The band is now quickly approaching the release date for their debut album. The first single from the self titled disc will hit radio later this week and the band will embark on massive promotional tour, slated to begin in Fox’s hometown of Chicago.

Madison Fox has hit rock bottom quite a few times, but has managed to pick herself up each time, and come back better than ever. She’s been called many things during her time in the spotlight, but this much is for sure, she’s resilient.

The public fell in love with her instantly, thanks in large part to her down to earth charm and an uncanny ability to grow with her core audience.

The world wants to see this young woman succeed, and if the early reviews of The Ledge’s first single are any indication, she’ll do just that.

Well, this is it.The last few months have led to this moment, and the only thing any of us can do is wait to see what happens.The single was released yesterday morning and today, the promotion cycle begins. Interviews, photo shoots, appearances, and my least favorite thing on the planet… morning radio.

I know I should be beyond grateful that I’m getting another shot at all of this, but I never was a fan of the hyped up bullshit. If it was up to me, and me alone, I’d release albums and tour. End of story.

Unfortunately, none of it works that way.

Romeo take me somewhere, we can be alone.
I'll be waiting; all there's left to do is run.
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess,
It's a love story, baby, just say yes.

"What is this crap?" I frown and reach for the dial, only to have my hand slapped away.

"Taylor Swift. Touch it and die." Stella glares at me and returns to belting out the words.

"Stel... she's... she's fucking awful." I wince at the sound pouring from the speakers and roll my eyes. "This is actually causing me physical pain."

"I will cause you physical pain if you don't shut the hell up. It's cute and it's catchy... so fuck off."

"I think screwing around with a youngin' has given you brain damage."

"He is awfully young, isn't he?" She sighs as she pulls into an empty parking spot. "You know... I really planned on it being a one time deal kind of thing, but... I actually like him. He's like Lucas... minus the brooding and mood swings. Speaking of which..."

"We're gonna be late." I mutter and climb out of the car before this conversation can go any further.

Right now, I just want to get on that plane. I don’t want to talk about boys or feelings, or anything, really. I mean, things with Lucas aren’t going badly or anything. In fact, they’ve actually started looking up a bit. Now that the tension and stress of recording is behind us, he’s mellowed out, and believe it or not… I can actually see us going somewhere.

The problem is… well… me.

I tried god knows how many times to convince myself that Justin was wrong for me. That if we ever got back together, we’d both be completely miserable. I’ve always figured that somewhere along the line, we’d have some massive blow out, and end up exactly where we are right now.

Apart.

But, since we started working on the album with him, a lot of old feelings started to surface, and well… I’m beginning to really question all the decisions I made last year.I mean, maybe… maybe once I got out of rehab, I should have gone back and tried to patch things up. Maybe we just needed some time away from each other, and then we could work on everything.

Or, maybe my crazy gene has kicked in once again and all these feelings are resurfacing because Justin’s… different.

Or maybe I’m different…. Hell, I don’t know.

Isn’t that great? I can’t even make sense of my own damn thoughts.

Stella and I quickly grab our bags from the trunk and make our way through the crowded airport toward our gate.

The only thing I’m sure of at the moment, is that I can’t wait to get to Chicago. I haven’t seen my parents or Chelsea in months, and I think some time with people outside of my current drama is much needed.

“Mornin’ bitches!” Benny calls out the second he sees us approaching. I can’t help but roll my eyes as countless people turn to stare, several of them covering their children’s ears.

Yeah… a nice, quiet few days with my family is exactly what I need right now.

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

“Chelsea… I really, really don’t think that’s a good idea.” I sigh into the phone and roll my eyes. “I kind of just want to hang out with my parents and get some sleep.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you. I’m pulling into the driveway now. See you in a few.” She laughs before the line goes dead.

God damnit.

Why doesn’t anyone ever fucking listen to me?

Chelsea has been trying to convince me to go out for the last two hours. I thought I was shooting her down successfully, but apparently not.

For reasons beyond me, she came up with this twisted plan of getting our whole group to head to the bar, have a few drinks and keeping in our usual tradition, do some karaoke.

Now, when I say she wants the whole group to go, I mean the WHOLE group. Me, her, Lucas, Stella, Benny, Liam, Jc, Trace and last, but certainly not least… Justin.

And to make matters worse, apparently I’m the only one holding out. I take that to mean I’m the only one with an ounce of common sense. Because hello… how can anyone not see the potential disaster in that combination of people?

I learned a long time ago that my friends and alcohol do not mix. We may be older now, but I seriously doubt that one detail has changed.

“C’mon Maddie… you know you want to go.” Chelsea grins as she enters my old room and plops down on the bed. “So, make yourself presentable and let’s go. We’re meeting everybody at the bar around nine.”

“Lovely.” I mutter as I rummage through my closet.

If there was even half a brain in my head, I’d put my foot down and refuse to go. But, that very small optimistic part of me is thinking maybe it won’t be too terrible. I mean, maybe we’ll all be able to go out and actually have fun together. Fat chance, I know, but I guess it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, how much shit can we stir up in public?

On second thought….

“Chels, I really don’t want to do this.” I whine pathetically, hoping she’ll have the tiniest bit of sympathy and let me weasel my way out of this.

“Why the hell not? You love that bar!”

Alright, I do love the bar. She’s got me there. But, it isn’t the bar that’s the problem.

“I just…. Don’t.”

“Alright, what’s going on?” She demands. “And don’t even try to tell me nothing’s up. It’s all over your face.”

“I’m just tired. Ok? We’re gonna be so damn busy the next few weeks. I just want to get some rest while I still can.”

“Right.” She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “Sounds to me like somebody’s a tad nervous about being around her boyfriend and her ex…. Whatever the hell he was. Husband? Boyfriend? Who can keep that shit straight?”

“Very funny. And no, that’s not it.”

“Maddie… just get your ass dressed and let’s go. I won’t let anything get weird. Everybody just wants to have a good time.”

“Fine.” I mutter and grab a pair of jeans and clean shirt before stomping to the bathroom.

I’m gonna regret this. I just know it.

Honestly… I don’t even know what the hell I’m so worried about. It’s not like Justin has any reason to try and start a bunch of shit with Lucas. After all, they’ve been fine through 90 percent of the recording process, and… Justin has so obviously moved on. He has a… whatever Keri’s supposed to be. I’d be willing to bet I’m the least of his worries.

So, fine. I’ll go. But so help me god, if anything happens… I’m kicking Chelsea’s ass.

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

Now I've had the time of my life
No I never felt like this before
Yes I swear it's the truth
And I owe it all to you

“I’m telling you dude… those two are gonna move to Vermont and get married or some shit.” Lucas laughs and shakes his head before taking another sip of his drink.

“I think it’s cute.” Stella giggles.

I, however, find the whole thing to be pretty damn creepy. Benny and Trace are hammered out of their minds, and for reasons I will never understand, felt the need to sing the dirty dancing theme to each other.

I’d say it’s a safe bet that most of our table has had entirely too much to drink, myself included. But, I think Benny, Trace and Justin are probably the three best candidates for massive hangovers in the morning.

Justin’s been… well… really fucking weird tonight.One minute, he’s fine. Laughing and talking with everyone else. Then the next, he looks like he’s about two seconds away from choking the first person to even look at him. The ridiculous amount of alcohol he’s consumed hasn’t gone unnoticed either.

Before we even had a table, he had two beers in his hands. Not long after that, he switched to the harder stuff and he’s been a bit of a mess ever since.

But, he’s playing nice, so I’ll keep my mouth shut. As long as we’re all getting along, everything’s peachy as far as I’m concerned.

“Next up folks, we have Justin…”

Oh good lord. He’s honestly going to get up and do karaoke in this state? Wonderful.

He slides out of the booth and stumbles when his feet hit the floor, causing half the bar to laugh. He grins stupidly and saunters toward the stage, dodging tables, chairs and people the whole way. It takes several minutes, but he finally reaches the stage and hugs the man who hands him the microphone.

If we were still dating, I’d be fucking mortified right now. But, we’re not. So, really… I’m only mildly embarrassed that I know him.

“I don’t wanna get all sappy or anything…” He grins, a definite slur to each of his words. “But, this song is for a very, very special girl who’s gracing us with her presence tonight. Maddie, baby… this one’s just for you.” He points at me and I sink down in my seat, attempting to avoid the curious stares from my friends and other patrons.

I don’t know what the hell he’s about to do, but he’s fucking dead when he’s done.

Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from another you been messin' around

They say you got a boy friend
You're out late every weekend
They're talkin' about you and it's bringin' me down
But I know the neighborhood
And talk is cheap when the story is good
And the tales grow taller on down the line

But I'm telling you, babe
That I don't think it's true, babe
And even if it is keep this in mind

That fucking prick. He cannot be serious with this shit, can he? I mean seriously…. There’s just… there’s no way.

You take it on the run baby
If that's the way you want it baby
Then I don't want you around
I don't believe it
Not for a minute
You're under the gun so you take it on the run

You're thinking up your white lies
You're putting on your bedroom eyes
You say you're coming home but you won't say when
But I can feel it coming
If you leave tonight keep running
And you need never look back again
 

You take it on the run baby
If that's the way you want it baby
Then I don't want you around
I don't believe it
Not for a minute
You're under the gun so you take it on the run

Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from a friend who
Heard it from another you been messin' around

This is it. Out of the millions of times that I thought I was honestly going to murder Justin Timberlake, this is the time it’s actually going to happen.

He waltzes off the stage, his usual shit eating grin firmly in place, and it takes all the willpower I have to not slap the smirk right off his face.

“Madison…. What the hell’s going on?” Lucas glares at me.

Oh sure… blame me instead of the drunken idiot.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what the hell he’s doing!”

Lucas slides out of his seat and I swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in my throat. This is exactly the kind of thing I was worried about. Those two have egos entirely too large to ever get along.

“Hey man… what the fuck’s your problem? What was that shit about?” Lucas shoves Justin, who falls back into a table before quickly straightening himself up.

“I ain’t got a problem. It’s all good dude. Chill.” Justin laughs loudly and shakes his head. “You ain’t gotta be all paranoid and shit. I was just messin around. She knows that.”

“Yeah? Well guess what asshole, she’s not the one you gotta answer to. I am, and I didn’t think that shit was funny.”

“Luke… man, c’mon. He’s wasted. Leave it alone.” Liam calls out to his brother and I can’t help but nod in agreement.

Am I pissed? Beyond belief. It would have been one thing if Justin was trying to be funny, but I know damn well that whole thing was a dig at me. Why? Beats the shit out of me, but that’s what he’s doing.

However, that doesn’t mean I want to sit back and watch Lucas kick the shit out of him. Whatever that was, is between Justin and I.

“No… I’ve had it with this mother fucker. He tries to act all cool with everybody, then turns around and talks a bunch of shit. Especially about her, and I’m done letting it go.” Lucas shakes his head before turning back to Justin. “So, what is it? Can’t stand to see her with somebody else, can you?”

“I’m not doing this with you man.” Justin laughs and takes a step back, only to have Lucas grab him by the arm and pull him back.

“Admit it… you’re fucking pissed off that she’s with me and not you. You hate the fact that she isn’t all about you anymore.”

“Lucas… man…. Just get your fuckin hands off me. I’m not gonna fight with you.”

“Luke… come on.” Benny and Liam appear on either side of him, working to pry him away from Justin.

As soon as Lucas lets him go, Justin rears back and a second later, his fist connects with Lucas’s jaw.

Suddenly, everyone’s screaming at each other, and all I can do is sit here, completely numb to all of it.

“Great plan Chels. Now we’re all going to fucking jail.” Stella mutters, setting off an argument between her and my best friend.

Jc and Trace try to pull Justin away from Lucas, but no matter how many times he gets hit, the drunk idiot just won’t give up. Justin shoves Trace back, knocking Liam over a chair, and suddenly, the two of them are ready to rip each other apart.

Lucas continues to struggle against Benny and before either of them realize it, someone’s elbow connects with Jc’s mouth.

It’s a fucking mess all around, and it’s one hundred percent my fault.

It doesn’t take long for the bar bouncers to appear and quickly break up the fight. The two hulking men grab Justin and Lucas before hauling them out the door and dumping them into the street.

The rest of us are told to be on our way, and the next thing I know, I’m standing on the curb watching my friends fight like hell.

As stupid as it sounds, I just want to sit down and cry.

This right here, is exactly why I left last year. I saw how miserable I was making the people around me, and I’d had enough of it. I thought it was all behind me, that we could all start over and be adults about everything, but now, it’s plain to see that nothing’s fucking changed.

What a way to kick off promo week.

"Love Story"-Taylor Swift

"Time Of My Life"- Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes

"Take It On The Run"- REO Speedwagon

An incessant knocking on the door to my room startles me awake and I quickly pull the pillow over my head in hopes of drowning out the noise.

Hello…. Hungover, sleeping man here. If I didn’t answer the first time you knocked, common sense would tell you that I’m probably not going to, no matter how many times you knock.

The longer I ignore the knocking, the louder and more frequent it seems to get. With my luck, it’s probably Jc coming to bitch me out about the bands schedule, or god only knows what.

I finally crawl out of bed and that’s when it hits me. Every single inch of my body hurts like hell. I take a step forward and wince as pain surges through each of my limbs.

I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that today’s gonna be an extra shitty day. I slowly but surely make it to the door and as soon as I open it, my suspicion is confirmed.

“Well… you look about as shitty as I expected.” She mutters as she breezes past me into the room.

“Hey… that’s no way to treat the hungover guy. And what the hell are you doing here? You have interviews and shit.”

“Had. It’s almost three.” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I came by this morning to check on you, but apparently you were still in some sort of coma.”

Check on me?

Why does she suddenly care if I have too much to drink? Hell, I could be on my god damn death bed and she probably wouldn’t give two shits.

“Umm… alright. You checked. I’m still alive. We cool?”

“You haven’t looked in a mirror yet, have you?”

“That’d be a no. I was sleeping till some lunatic started banging on the door.” I crack, but it doesn’t get so much as a smile.

“Well then, ya might wanna take a look. You’re a fucking mess.”

I groan and shuffle into the bathroom, mentally preparing myself for the worst. All the tell-tale hangover signs are there. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles, the little bit of hair I do have is sticking up in a thousand different directions.

Unfortunately, it’s all hidden under a black eye, a lot of dirt and dried blood. I look down and immediately recognize my clothes from yesterday still on my body, also caked in blood.

Fuckin awesome wake up call, huh?

I vaguely remember fighting with Lucas. I just didn’t realize it got that out of hand. And, I’m not entirely sure what it was about.

Although, I’ve got a funny feeling the reason is sitting on the couch.

She steps into the bathroom a few minutes later, armed with a first aid kit. She grabs a towel and runs it under the faucet before wiping the dirt and blood off of my face.

“So….. What happened?”

“Well…” She begins, a frown firmly in place. “Everything was fine for awhile. Benny and Trace put on a nice little straight guy love fest for each other. Then you got up to sing, and the shit kinda hit the fan after that.”

“Oh… Lucas alright?”

“Yeah. His knuckles are a little bruised and swollen. So, he’ll survive. You, on the other hand, look like you joined fight club.”

“Great.” I mutter and roll my eyes as she cleans and bandages the cuts and scrapes on my face. “So, like… what the fuck started it?”

“You sang some shitty little song and dedicated it to me. Lucas did the knight in shining armor thing and defended my honor or whatever.” She smirks. “You boys, I swear.”

“What song?”

“Does it really matter Justin? It really wasn’t one of your finer moments and I don’t feel like reliving it. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. And, I should probably warn you.”

“Warn me? Fuck… is Lucas ready for round two or something? Cause I really don’t think my face can take it.”

“I’d steer clear of him for a couple days. But, you’re kind of on everybody else’s shit list too.”

Great.

That’s exactly what I fuckin need. I’m the one who’s in charge around here and now there’s a pretty good chance that nobody’s gonna listen to me. Fucking awesome.

“If it makes you feel any better, they’re all pissed at each other too. It’s like… the Hatfield’s and McCoy’s or something. It’s your side, and Lucas’s side, and…”

“You’re stuck in the middle.” I finish for her and shake my head. “Shit Madison… I’m sorry.”

“No point in apologizing, really. I knew some dumb shit would happen with all of us together. Besides, in a couple days it’ll blow over and nobody’s even gonna care anymore.” She shrugs and turns to put everything back in the first aid kit, looking everywhere but at me.

I grab her hands to get her attention, but she still keeps her vision focused on the floor.

“That’s not the point. If I wasn’t being a prick, none of that would have happened. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine Justin.”

Ok. I am really starting to get frustrated here.

I’m trying to do the right thing and it’s like she refuses to let it happen.

“God damnit… why do you always do that?”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Yeah, you are. Any time I fuck up big, you blow it off. But when it’s some dumb little shit, you won’t let it go. I said I was sorry and I fucking mean it, so can you at least accept my apology?”

“And everybody says I’m the drama queen.” She mutters and rolls her eyes. “You’re forgiven, ok? I was really pissed last night, but you were trashed, so… whatever.”

Is it just me, or is hell freezing over? Cause this girl is being entirely too nice to me and it doesn’t make any damn sense. Especially after what I did last night. I’m not complaining or anything, but I mean… she should be ready to claw my fuckin eyes out. Instead, she’s making sure I’m ok, cleaning me up and even forgiving me.

I’ve gotta be dreaming or some shit, cause this just ain’t normal.

“Alright, well… if you’re ok… I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah… yeah… thanks.” I nod as she gathers her things and heads for the door. “Hey Madison…” I call out just as she reaches for the doorknob.

“Yeah? You need something?”

“I was just… I wanted… why did you do this?”

“I felt bad.” She shrugs. “Believe it or not Justin, I’m not a heartless wench. I figured you’d be feeling pretty shitty and I knew there was no way anybody else would check up on you. So, here I am.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She nods and shoots me an awkward smile before stepping out into the hallway.

Shit.

I am in a world of fucking trouble.

It never fails man. That girl always gets to me, and usually in the simplest way possible.

Unfortunately for me, there’s quite a few obstacles standing in my way and unless I figure out how to eliminate em, I’m never gonna get her back.

But on the bright side… at least I finally know what I want, and it’s her. It’s always been her and I’ve got a feeling it always will be.

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

“So Madison, this is your big comeback, right?”

“Well…umm… no. Not really.” She smiles politely as the DJ shoots her a skeptical look. “I don’t really feel like I ever retired or anything. To me, this is just a different route, you know? I was on my own for so long, and I kind of always wanted to be in a band. So yeah… definitely not a comeback. Just another project.”

“Does that mean you’ll go back to your solo material?”

“We’ll see.” She shrugs, and the guy finally lets up on her to harass Lucas.

I probably should have figured any interview they’d give would turn out like this. The one’s in Chicago were the absolute worst. Which, I kind of expected since it’s her hometown. But, I thought when we got to New York, it’d be different.

Guess that’s what I get for thinking.

I mean, I guess it’s only natural that people are reacting this way. It’s not everyday that some huge star just drops off of the face of the earth, then shows up a few months later in a band.

So, yeah.. It sucks. But on the other hand, it’s getting them a lot of attention and the single’s already in heavy rotation. So, all in all… this seems to be starting out fairly well.

“What are you doing you fuckin creeper?” Trace slaps my arm as he comes to stand beside me.

“Just watching.” I shrug. “Why? What’s up?”

“Your girlfriend called. About a hundred god damn times. I stopped answering. Here’s your phone.” He tosses me the small device and I groan when I see at least a dozen missed calls, all from Keri.

I don’t even what to think about what life ending crisis she has going on right now.

“Why don’t you just fuckin end it, ya puss.” Trace shakes his head. “Like, seriously man. Everybody hates that broad, and you are so obviously still hung up on Madison. Put the poor girl out of her misery already.”

“Number one… I am not ‘hung up’ on Madison. Secondly… if I dump Keri, I gotta do it in person, and I also have to drop her from the label. So yeah…”

“Lucky for you, you have this kick ass assistant who has already drawn up a release contract.” He grins and hands me a folder. “Honestly dude… sometimes, I don’t even know how you wipe your ass without me.”

I open the folder and quickly browse through it, a little surprised at the detail. I mean, yeah… Trace usually does some pretty damn good work, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this huge from him.

He’s got this thing outlined perfectly. Statistics from her album sales, airplay, performances. It’s all here, along with a detailed explanation as to why we’re dropping her.

Color me impressed.

“So… I was thinking, once we’re back in LA, bring her in, and do the deed.” He shrugs. “You can thank me later.”

“No… this is great. Thanks.” I nod slowly. “I’m just… not entirely sure why you did it.”

“You were dragging your feet, and it needed to be done.”

Ok, he’s totally got me there.

I’ve been dragging my feet on this Keri shit in a big way, and I’m not entirely sure why. I mean, I know a big part of it was the fact that I honestly thought I’d never have Madison back in my life, in any way, shape, or form. So, keeping Keri around kinda helped keep my mind off of Madison.

But, with her back, I guess there’s really no point in letting this Keri shit keep going. Which I probably should have realized a long ass time ago, but I never said I was a genius.

“Guess I’ll go call her.” I shrug.

“Bout time you grew some balls. Granted, over the phone is a little cold, but bitch kinda has it coming.”

“Right.” I roll my eyes and head down the hallway in search of an empty room.

I scroll through my contacts and take a deep breath before hitting the call button. Before I can so much as say hello, she starts in on me.

“Where the hell are you? I’ve called god knows how many times! And just so you know, I don’t appreciate Trace treating me like shit. Just because he doesn’t like me doesn’t give him the right to-”

“Keri… can you shut up for two fucking seconds? Jesus Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a long sigh. “Look… we need to talk.”

She’s dead silent, and I’m not so sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but I continue anyway.

“Look… umm… this… thing, just isn’t working.”

“Of course it’s not! You’re on the other side of the country following your ex-girlfriend around like some lost puppy!”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Madison. So just stop right fucking there. This isn’t working because I just flat out don’t fucking care. I’m not so sure I ever did. And yeah… I know it wasn’t right. But give me a fucking break… you had to know I didn’t give a shit.” The words seem to just fall out of my mouth and even though I probably should, I don’t regret them in the least.

“Justin… what… what are you trying to say?”

“We’re done. I’m sorry I let it go on this long, but you’re just as guilty as I am. You thought I was some kind of fucking trophy. So really, why keep dragging it out? It’s not gonna go anywhere.”

“Justin… I love you.” She mutters and if I’m not mistaken, it sounds like she’s crying.

“No you don’t.” I frown. Ok, maybe I was a little too harsh. “And I don’t love you. I’m not happy, you’re not happy. This is fucking pointless.”

“It’s her, isn’t it? You’re still in love with her.”

“Honestly? Yeah, I am. But that isn’t the point. She’s with somebody else, and how I feel about her doesn’t matter. Look… let’s just… end it here, and go on with our lives, alright?”

“Well, riddle me this..” She sniffles and for a split second, I feel like absolute shit. “How are we supposed to work together after this?”

“Well… Keri…” I say as gently as humanly possible. “We both know your album was pretty much a failure. And, the band looks like they’re going to do really well. So…” I exhale and shut my eyes. “I’ve got your release statement already drawn up. We’ll go over it when I’m back in town. You’ll be free to sign with whoever you want.”

“Great.” She mutters, now on the verge of sobbing. “Thanks Justin. Thank you for making me feel like what the whole damn world thinks I am… a temporary replacement for Madison Fox, and a shitty one at that. I honestly thought you believed in me, and now I know the truth. So fine… you want her… go get her.”

“Keri… this isn’t about her! Can’t you fucking listen?”

The only response I get is the sound of a dial tone and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

Ok, yeah… I could have handled that a thousand times better, but… I actually got it all off my chest. I finally told her the things I’ve been dying to say for over a year now, and it felt really fucking good.

I shove my phone in my pocket before turning to head out of the room. I skid to a halt when I spot the figure leaning against the door frame.

Fuck.

“Umm… Hi Madison.” I muster up the most enthusiastic greeting I can and smile. “So.. Uhh… how much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” She nods slowly before crossing the room to stand in front of me. “But, I think the big question here is, how much of it did you actually mean?”

“Every. Single. Word.”

Before I have time to even think about what I’m doing, my mouth is on hers, and rather than pull away like I expect her to, she slides her arms around my neck and leans into me.

Well… guess that’s one obstacle out of the way.

You know how there’s those people who have no filter between their brain and their mouth? Like, no matter how hard they try, they can’t ever get the two to cooperate.

I’m thinking I’m one of those people.

My mouth says a lot of shit my brain tells it not to, and at the moment, my mouth is doing something that my brain knows damn well it shouldn’t.

And no, I’m not trying to be a perv, so get your mind out of the gutter.

I finally muster up the strength to pull away from him, but don’t get very far. His hands stay firmly locked around my waist, his face mere inches from mine. If I’m being totally honest, I don’t really mind being this close to him again.

“Justin… what the hell are we doing?”

“Not sure. But I kinda miss it.” He grins and my knees go a little weak.

“I’m with Lucas.” I remind him, hoping at least one of us will have the moral capacity to walk away.

“You can change that, ya know.” He mutters as he nudges my nose with his.

Yeah. I gotta get the fuck out of here, cause this has bad idea written all over it.

“I gotta go.” I mumble, doing everything I can to scramble away from him.

“Madison… don’t do this shit to me.” He closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “Do not run away from me, please. Just stay, and we’ll talk about this.”

“I…I… can’t. I gotta go Justin.” I finally manage to break free and haul ass out of the room.

As soon as the door slams shut behind me, I exhale and lean against the wall for support.

I know… you don’t have to say it.

I am well aware of the fact that I’m nothing but a fucking coward, that I never face my problems head on. I can’t even really explain it. It’s like… my brain can’t handle the pressure or something.

Or maybe, I’m just afraid of getting hurt.

I mean, that’s normal, right? Nobody jumps into a situation, like, ‘oh, I’d like to see just how much pain I can inflict on myself when I do this’, do they?

And ya know… I think I’ve finally figured out where that fear comes from.

In this business, you’re taught one very simple rule: Be thankful for what you have today, because it could very well be gone tomorrow.

I’ve tried to live by the rule, and I guess somewhere along the line, I started taking it too seriously. Suddenly, it just seemed so much easier to run, or push everything away, rather than have it taken from me.

I had to pull the rug out from under myself before someone else could.

I’m not saying it’s right, or that it’s smart. It just… is what it is.

“Hey… you alright?” I jump at the sound of his voice and look up, forcing the best smile I can.

“I’m fine. I was just…. Umm… looking for the bathroom. But yeah, totally ok.”

“You sure? You look kinda… pale.” The concerned smile on his face quickly turns into a confused frown when Justin steps into the hallway.

The boy’s got fucking impeccable timing, doesn’t he?

“Uhh… hey, Lucas. Interview went really well, eh?” He smiles, and for a second, even I’m buying his forced politeness.

But, this is Justin we’re talking about. He doesn’t do polite. Especially for someone he views as the enemy.

“Yeah, thanks man.” Lucas nods slowly. “We’ve got another one in a couple hours, so we probably need to get going.”

“Right. Right.” Justin shakes his head. “I’m just… I’ll get everybody to the van. You guys… just meet us there when you’re ready.”

“What’s his deal?” Lucas watches Justin with an amused smirk on his face.

“Couldn’t tell ya.” I shrug as he throws an arm around my shoulder and we head for the van.

Something tells me I’m going to get myself in all sorts of trouble in the very near future.

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

“You alright?” Jc elbows me discreetly, concern marring his features.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“You’re all… twitchy.” He smirks, shooting a quick look between Justin and Lucas.

“I’m fine.” I roll my eyes, making sure to keep my gaze focused on the two of them. “And I’m not twitchy.”

Ok fine, maybe I am. But do I need Jc calling me out? That would be a big fat no.

Really, I shouldn’t be too worried. They’re just going over the set list for the showcase tomorrow night. It’s not like they can start some massive argument over that, can they?

You know what… don’t answer that.

“I love that you always seem to forget the fact that I know you better than anyone else.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Really Madison, you’d think after almost seven years…”

“Alright fine… I’m… nervous about the showcase. Happy?”

“Nah, not really. I actually don’t think you’re worried about the showcase at all. You’ve been rehearsing this shit for weeks, and let’s face it… you’re more than used to this sort of thing. Whatever’s making you all weird… has to do with those two. Which, sorry, but I find fucking hilarious.”

“And exactly why is that?”

“Well… look at them.” He laughs and rolls his eyes.

For the first time, I actually begin to compare the two of them.

Justin, is Mr. clean cut. Designer jeans, pristine polo shirt, blindingly white sneakers. There’s a distinct air of arrogance in the way he carries himself, which isn’t exactly a new discovery, but whatever. Anytime someone passes him, he interrupts his conversation with Lucas to greet them.

Lucas, on the other hand, looks like he just rolled out of bed. His jeans are torn in several different places, his t-shirt is stained with god only knows what. Really, the only similarity is that same arrogant stance.

Apparently I have a thing for narcissists. Go figure.

“They’re complete opposites, is that your point? Cause really, I’m not getting it.”

“That is my point. Put em together Madison, and there is the perfect man for you. How I realized that before you, I’ll never know.”

“Are you checking out my ex and current boyfriends? Jace…” I giggle and shove him playfully, hoping to take some of the heat of myself.

“Oh you’re hilarious.” He mutters. “Look… just… get whatever’s going through your head figured out, ok? Cause I can tell you, those are the last two guys you wanna start playing games with.”

I frown as I look at the two of them again, and a wave of guilt washes over me. He’s right. I’m well aware of that fact.

If I started sneaking around with Justin, behind Lucas’s back, things would blow up right in my fuckin face and god only knows where we’d all end up.

But, staying with Lucas isn’t exactly helping the situation any either. The longer I’m with Lucas, the more pissy Justin seems to get. Not that he appears to care that I’m spoken for, seeing as how he can’t keep his hands or his mouth to himself.

No matter what I do, it’s gonna piss somebody off. So, ya know… nothing out of the ordinary for me.

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

“Since when does the band practice without its lead singer?”

“They’re working on the arrangement for a new cover. You need something?”

“Yeah, can we talk?”

Oh joy. More talking about the retarded shit that goes on in this dysfunctional circle of people. Just what I wanted to start my day with.

I can’t honestly be the only one who’s sick to death of rehashing all the dumb shit we do. But, it’s Justin, and it’s virtually impossible to say no to him.

And that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I feel like a twelve year old any time he so much as looks at me. It’s simply because he refuses to hear the word no. He either annoys the shit out of you, or makes life miserable until he gets what he wants. So, usually it’s easier to just pacify him.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Well…the other day… we… I mean… you… you took off and we didn’t get to talk about it.”

Gee, maybe there was a reason for that? Something tells me this is going to go from bad to worse in approximately five seconds.

“Justin, I told you… I’m-”

“And I told you… you can change that. It’s pretty simple, actually.”

“Says the man who dated a chick he could barely stand, for a fucking year and a half.” I laugh bitterly and roll my eyes.

“That was different.”

“Oh really? How so?”

“You wouldn’t get it Madison. Let it go. It doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“What if it matters to me?”

Alright, I’ll admit it…from day one, I’ve been dying to know just what he saw in that lunatic. I mean, not to sound cocky or anything, but I’ve never been able to figure out how he went from me to… that.

Of all the chicks on the planet, for some reason, he had to pick her. Call me crazy, but that makes zero fucking sense.

“You wouldn’t understand, ok? It’s done and over with. You and I need to get some shit straight and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Keri.”

“Actually, I think it does.” I smirk as he rolls his eyes in annoyance. “You broke up with her three days ago Justin. And it took you all of two seconds to jump me. I never really believed it, but Trace always said you were miserable the whole time you were with her. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull with me, but yeah… I do think an explanation is in order.”

“Fine.” He replies through gritted teeth and folds his arms over his chest. “I stayed with her because every once in awhile, she reminded me of you.”

Is he for fucking real?

I don’t know if I should laugh or be offended.

“When you left…fuck… do you have any clue what that did to me? I had myself so convinced you were gonna come back… that you’d change your mind, and when you didn’t… I had to find something to make me feel better, and for awhile… it was her.”

Well, that’s… interesting.

“But, ya know… I knew the whole time I was being an idiot. I didn’t give a shit about her, and she wanted me just so she could one up you. I should have put a stop to it before you even came back in the picture. But… you being back is what finally kind of got my ass in gear. So, I was kind of thinking that maybe… maybe we could try to straighten ourselves out.”

How is it he always picks the absolute worst moments to do this ‘let’s get our shit together’ crap?

I mean really, it’s almost convenient that he decides to be the bigger person when my hands are already tied. Sometimes, I kind of wonder if he does it on purpose, just to see how much control he really has.

“No.”

“No? What the hell… what do you mean no?”

“Exactly what I said… no.” I shake my head before turning and hauling ass in the other direction.

Ya know… something in my gut told me this wouldn’t work. I fucking knew having Justin back in my life would cause nothing but trouble. Lo and behold, I was right.

Something in this arrangement’s got to change. Having him around constantly is sending me on a major head trip, and I’m fairly certain that I’m slowly but surely losing my fucking mind.

Or, there’s a very strong possibility that I want to do everything he’s asking me to, and I know just what kind of shit that would start, so I’m trying to avoid it completely.

Unfortunately, I’m inclined to believe the latter situation is what’s really going on.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

I look up from the sheet of paper in front of me and frown when no one else seems the least bit disturbed by the line of questioning.

Teeny bopper magazines ask the dumbest fucking questions.

I mean, why not ask me the hard hitting shit. For example, Why can’t you face a problem? If an ex-boyfriend tells you he’s still in love with you, what’s the proper way to react?

You know.. Just, a question that actually means something. But then again, if those really were the questions, I’d probably leave the answer space blank.

I guess I need to get used to this crap again. At the moment, the band and I have the number one album in the country, and we’re roughly a week away from beginning our headlining tour.

30 cities in 65 days.

And for some reason, the thought of touring again makes me more nervous than any of the rest of this has. Granted, it’s what I want to do, I’m just… scared. The tour is like, the final sign that all of this is real. That it’s actually working out. Provided I don’t manage to screw it up somewhere along the line.

Which, the way things are going, is probably inevitable.

I don’t know how, but I’ve managed to completely avoid Justin for close to three weeks now, and I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty proud of myself for that. Call me crazy, but it seems like life is so much simpler when he’s not around.

The only problem is, I kind of miss seeing his stupid face everyday.

I jump slightly when I feel a swift kick to my shin, and look up to find Lucas smirking at me.

“What the hell was that for?”

“I’ve been saying your name for the last five minutes and you weren’t answering.” He shrugs. “And there’s no possible way that you’re that engrossed in this nonsense.” He rolls his eyes as he waves his paper in my face.

“What color crayon I’d be happens to be very thought provoking.”

“Right. So is describing my ideal date.” He snorts. “Actually, speaking of which… you got anything going on tonight?”

“I don’t know… do I?”

“I figured we could go out.” He shrugs, shredding the edges of his paper.

“What… like a… like a date?”

“Well… yeah.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “As the boyfriend, isn’t it kind of my job to actually quote-un-quote, date you?”

Huh.

Now that’s interesting.

Not once in the months since we started this… thing, has Lucas made any attempt to put a label on whatever the hell it is that we’re doing here. Until now. And why he’s suddenly all gung-ho about trying to be a real boyfriend, is beyond me.

But, gotta admit… I kinda like it.

“Umm… alright then. What’d you have in mind?”

“I don’t know… dinner, I guess? Isn’t that what a normal date would entail?”

“Right.” I laugh and roll my eyes. “Fine, we’ll grab dinner.”

“C’mon now… at least show some enthusiasm. I’ve got an ego to protect, ya know.”

“You’re a jackass.” I giggle when he smirks at me before returning his attention back to the sheet of questions in front of him.

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

I am on a date. With Lucas. My boyfriend.

Somehow, those words just sound strange together. And, believe it or not, I can’t even remember the last time someone took me on an actual date.

Justin never took me on a date. Well… we never called the times we went out, dates. So who knows.

And really…. Who sets the standard for what a date actually is? I mean… wouldn’t it be two people just going out together?

Why does it even have to have a label on it? I don’t understand how calling something a date suddenly puts all this pressure on it and makes it such a big fucking deal.

And ok yes, I’m babbling and I’m nervous as shit.

“Soo….” He drawls out and clears his throat. “Me and Benny finally worked out the final set list for the tour.”

“Oh? Good.” I nod awkwardly. “Glad that’s out of the way.”

“Yeah. Should be a pretty decent show.”

“Definitely.”

This shouldn’t be this fucking weird.

I don’t know why, but suddenly, it’s like I have no idea how to talk to him. I feel like it’s the first time we met, and we were just thrown together with absolutely nothing to talk about.

I can only imagine that this is probably how most blind dates go.

“So… got a question for you.”

“Shoot.” I mutter, browsing through my menu.

“What was going on a couple weeks ago… at the radio station?”

Radio station….radio station…

What the hell is he talking about?

“Huh?”

“The one in Chicago. You took off, and when I found you, you were with Justin.”

Oh.

The way I see it, I’ve got two options here.

I can tell him the god’s honest truth. That, while I do care about him, I still have… something, for Justin, that Justin’s always going to be in the back of my mind, no matter who I’m with. That I’m not entirely sure how this thing with us is going to work out.

Or, I can lie my ass off.

“I really don’t remember.” I shrug, not missing the look of complete and utter doubt in his eyes.

“Justin seemed kinda… weird, when I found you guys.”

“Yeah, well… Justin’s weird. That goes without saying.”

“Madison…” He sighs and shakes his head. “Ya know… it’s one thing to lie to me… but you’re fucking lying to yourself too. I’m not sure which one’s worse.”

“What? Lucas, I’m… I’m not…”

He digs an object out of the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt and tosses it down on the table, a deep frown set on his face.

Shit.

I am in so much fucking trouble right now, it’s not even funny. I honestly don’t know how the hell he found it, but he did, and now I’m fucked three ways from Sunday.

“Let’s see what we have here, shall we?” He glares at me and I swallow hard.

This is not going to be pretty.

He rips the cover of the notebook open and flips through several pages before stopping.

“All I ever wanted, was a simple way to get over you. All I ever wanted was an in between, to escape this desperate scene, where every lie reveals the truth, baby cause all I ever wanted was you.” He recites the words, my words, my thoughts, and all I can do is sit here. “Wanna tell me who that one’s about?”

I shrug and divert my eyes to the floor. I really, really don’t want to do this with him. Not here, not now, not ever.

“Gotta admit… I really loved this one.” He laughs bitterly and rolls his eyes. “What happened to the man who used to take me straight into misery, I want you back and now I must admit, it shames me. Cause once I ran away. I’ve loved you since the day I broke your heart.”

“They’re just songs Lucas.” I mutter pathetically, not fully believing the words myself.

“No Madison… they’re the fucking truth. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone through your shit… but I needed some kind of proof. I’m not an idiot ya know. You’re fucking obsessed with him… and either you can’t admit it, or don’t realize it. It’s all right here, in your god damned notebook.”

“You don’t even know when I wrote them.”

Yeah, I’m grasping at straws here. What the hell else am I supposed to do?

“Yeah I do.” He sighs. “I bought you this notebook. A month ago.”

And there it is.

I’m completely and totally busted. And I don’t have a damn thing to say for myself.

“Madison… I can’t… I can’t do this with you anymore. I tried, ya know… I really fucking tried to ignore it. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t real. I can’t keep playing the fucking idiot here.”

“I didn’t cheat on you.”

“Maybe not physically.” He shrugs. “And really… I’m not sure you can call it cheating. I never had you to begin with.”

I let those words sink in and take a deep breath.

He’s right.

He’s been in this alone from day one.

No matter how much I tried to convince myself, I never gave up on Justin. I didn’t even do a good job of hiding it. It’s been clear as fucking day from the get go, and somehow, everybody but me knew it.

“So.. What… what now?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs again. “But this… this is done. I’m tired of playing the fucking game Madison. I just… I let myself get way too fuckin deep with you, and I gotta get out.”

“So.. You’re just… you’re gonna… you’re quitting the band?”

“I think it’s for the best, don’t you? I mean shit… you’re free now, ya know? You can go back to Justin. I can go on with my life. Everybody wins, right?” He shoots me a fake smile and right there, my heart breaks.

I do care about him. I swear I do. It’s just… he’s not Justin. And Justin… Justin’s fucking everything.

“Lucas… that’s not fair. What about Benny and Stella… the fucking tour? Don’t do this because of me.”

“I’ll finish the tour. Don’t worry about that. Just… once the tour’s over, I’m out. I’m sure you’ll be able to find somebody else, cause let’s face it, my voice ain’t exactly up to par, and decent guitar players are a dime a dozen.”

“You have a contract. Justin won’t let you do this.”

“Eh, I think he will.” He shrugs. “And, can you just… not tell anybody? I’ll tell them… when I’m ready. Everybody’s stressing with the tour, and I just… don’t want to cause any shit.”

“Great. So I’ll just act like everything’s perfectly fucking fine. Awesome plan Lucas.” I mutter and roll my eyes. “But, if that’s what you want, just… whatever.” I shove my chair back from the table and exit the restaurant quickly, not bothering to look back.

“Where you at? Let’s go grab a beer.”

“I’m… busy.” I mutter, hoping he won’t hear the papers rattling on my end.

“Doing what exactly? I haven’t seen you in like, a week and I work for your ass man. Where have you been?”

I’m not about to admit it to him, but I’ve purposely made myself MIA.

After the incident with Madison, and her usual MO of blowing me off and hauling ass away from me, I figured it was better to lay low and keep to myself, than try to hash it all out.

I mean, ok fine… yeah, I did try to talk to her about it. And look what she did.

Right then and there, I made up my mind.

Fuck. Her.

I’m done. I’ve spent way too much time chasing her around, and I’ve had my fill. I’m not gonna spend the rest of my life doing this shit with her.

She wants Lucas, she can have him. Atleast until he gets too serious for her, and she bails. Chances are good, that’s exactly how she’s going to live the rest of her life.

“I’ve been working. Believe it or not, there’s shit to do around here that doesn’t involve following a band across the country, and fucking around.”

“No shit man? I had no idea.” He laughs. “Seriously… what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m just-”

“Oh… here you are.” He smirks as he enters the room and snaps his phone shut.

“How’d you figure out I was down here?”

“Well… it was kind of like a really intense game of Marco Polo. I just kept walking til I heard you. So, here I am. In accounting.” He scrunches his nose up and looks around quickly. “What the fuck are you doing in accounting?”

“Invoices… and ya know… accounting… things.” I shrug.

“Invoices? The guy who can’t count any higher than 10 and has to use his fingers and toes for simple math is doing invoices? What the fuck is the world coming to?”

“Funny. You should look into stand up comedy. Ass.”

“Seriously… accounting? Don’t you pay some old ass lady to do this?”

This little shit just doesn’t quit, does he? I feel like I’m being fucking interrogated or something.

I mean, I guess he’s just trying to show concern, but shit. If I wanted to talk about it, I’d talk. Why can’t he just take it at face value? If I say I’m working, maybe that’s all it is.

“I’m just… I needed some space.” I sigh loudly and I’ve got to admit, it feels pretty damn good to finally admit it to someone other than myself.

I just… I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to hear her voice, smell her perfume. I don’t even want to breathe the same fucking air she does.

I can’t be around her, in any way, shape, or form. So, I’m burying myself in bullshit paper work, that I don’t really have to do.

“What’d she do?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You might be able to fool everybody else, but I know that every single thing you do or say is somehow centered around Madison. So, I reiterate, what’d she do?”

“Same shit, different day man.” I mumble and roll my eyes. “I swear to Christ… she just… fuck. She never sticks shit out, you know? Just once, I’d love to see her face something head on, actually resolve something.”

“So, make her.” He shrugs. “Sit her down and be like, ‘look woman, this is how shit is. Deal with it.’ It’ll work. Mark my words sir.”

“You do realize this is Madison we’re talking about, correct?”

“Then the way I see it, you’ve got one other option. Be done with it, and move the fuck on once and for all.”

As usual, the midget is right. And I’m well aware of it.

So, fine… in the words of my best friend, I’m gonna move the fuck on.

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

“Oh… umm… nothing. Just playing around.” She shrugs and quickly shuts her notebook shut before placing her guitar in its case. “Why are you here?”

“Just locking up. I was taking care of some paperwork.”

“Oh, ok. Well… just uhh… just give me a minute to get my stuff together and I’ll get out of your way.” She finally looks up at me and I gotta admit, I’m more than a little surprised to see tear streaks covering her face, her eyes red and puffy.

Shit.

Why is it virtually impossible for me to find her in a good mood? I mean, isn’t our… situation, awkward enough as it is?

“You know what… umm… take your time. It’s cool.” I shrug and turn to head out of the studio.

I don’t know what the issue is, and part of me really, really doesn’t want to. Getting sucked into whatever drama she has going on, never seems to end well.

We’ll both be better off if I just stay the fuck out of it and go on my way.

“Lucas dumped me.” She laughs bitterly and I stop dead in my tracks.

Definitely wasn’t expecting that.

Honestly, I figured the Lucas debacle would end much like my relationship with Madison did.

She’d freak out, take off and ditch him. Him breaking up with her never really crossed my mind.

“You ok?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.” She nods and for some strange reason, I actually believe her. “It was kind of inevitable, ya know? I mean… he’s the kind of guy I should be with, but it just… I don’t know. I knew it was gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Ok… what the hell am I supposed to say here? Seriously, what guy wants to console his ex-girlfriend through a break up? Sure as shit not me.

“It’s fine.” She sighs and nods again. “Anyway, I’ll get my stuff and get out of here so you can go home.”

I turn to head for the door and once again, her voice stops me.

“You know what’s fucked up…” She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “I’ve always idolized Stevie Nicks for being this bad ass, take no prisoners rocker chick, right? But… somehow, I ended up doing the shit she did, that I swore I wouldn’t. The drug problem… getting involved with a guy in my band. I promised myself I’d never do that shit. I became my idol, in the worst possible ways.”

I want to disagree with her. Tell her that she didn’t fuck up, but she did. She’s finally taking a good, hard look at herself, and I can’t lie… it’s been a long fucking time coming.

“And the really weird thing… I thought Lucas was my Lindsey, you know? But see… the problem wasn’t Lindsey not wanting Stevie. Stevie didn’t want Lindsey… she didn’t want to get married, she didn’t want to be tied down, and he did. So, she left him.” Tears well up in her eyes and she bites down on her bottom lip. “You… you’re my Lindsey.”

And that ladies and gentlemen, is how you slap somebody in the fucking face with absolutely no physical contact.

And the shitty thing is… what she just said, makes me completely rethink every decision I’ve made within the last six hours.

Lucas is out of the picture.

She’s finally seeing the things myself and everyone else has been trying to tell her for two years.

She’s starting to make sense again.

And all of that combined, gives me just an ounce of hope. Maybe I’m not ready to give up on her just yet.

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

You know how sometimes you just know you’re walking into a really fucking awkward situation?

That’s exactly how I feel right now.

We’re loading the busses and in roughly 20 minutes, the band is heading out on the road for the tour.

Madison and Lucas haven’t spoken in two days. Lucas’s brother is lurking about, trying to hide the fact that he’s been screwing around with Stella. Then you’ve got Benny, who seems completely oblivious to the outside world.

Somehow, throwing me, Jc and Trace into this mix just screams bad idea.

But, duty calls, or however the fuck you wanna rationalize it. Bottom line is, it’s fucked up.

Now, don’t go thinking that just because I’ve decided to not move on, that I’m going to following Madison around like some lost puppy. As a matter of fact, I’m going to do the opposite.

Let’s face facts here, she just broke up with a guy in her band. I’m smart enough to know that’s not something I need to get in the middle of. Especially since I seem to be the only other person who knows about it.

I’m gonna give her some time to get her shit straight, and if she gets back to normal in that time, then… we’ll see.

“And what the hell do you want me to do about it?” Madison shouts suddenly, and I look over to find her huddled in a corner with Lucas.

He’s whispering, but she doesn’t seem to care if she draws the attention of every person in this lot.

“Fuck you. He’s in charge, he wants to come, he’s more than welcome to.” She stomps away from him and marches onto the bus, slamming the door behind her.

It takes all of two seconds before Lucas is headed in my direction, his usual scowl firmly in place.

Great. Things just keep improving, don’t they?

“I want out.”

“Out of what, exactly?”

“The band. I want out. I’m not gonna spend two months on the road fighting with her, and having you watching over my shoulder all the god damn time. You’ve got two weeks to find a new guitarist.”

“You’re under contract.”

“Like you give a fuck about my contract?” He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head. “Admit it, you want me out of here so you can go after her. Fine, you got what you wanted. Just release me from my contract. Or sue… I don’t give a shit. I just want out.”

“I’ll have Trace draw it up.” I shrug. “I don’t see why you’re doing this, but whatever man.”

He gives me a short nod before turning and heading toward the crew bus, his bags in hand.

It’s just an endless cycle of bullshit around here, ain’t it?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned throughout my career, it’s that meetings are never a good thing. Especially when every single person you work with is involved.

Two days into the tour and already, we’re all in trouble.

Honestly, I don’t know what we’ve done this time. I haven’t said a word to anyone about the break up, or Lucas wanting to leave the band.

Ok fine, I told Justin about the break up, but he caught me at the wrong time. I had to vent, and Justin just happened to be there.

“So, what’re we in for?” Stella elbows me gently as we head for the conference room.

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Jc called first thing this morning, demanded everyone be ready and on their way to the airport within the hour. Justin decided the fly our entire group back to LA, so naturally, everyone’s a tad on edge.

“Don’t know.” I shrug. “Probably not anything good.”

“Have anything to do with Lucas staying on the crew bus?” She eyes me curiously. “Or, how he refused to sit with us on the plane?”

“I don’t know Stel.” I sigh and turn the corner. “I haven’t talked to him.”

“You guys broke up.” She nods, and I know immediately, it’s a statement, not a question.

“That’s not what this is about.” I mutter as we enter the room and quickly take our seats next to Jc and Trace. Benny and Lucas are on the other side of the table, Lucas clearly wrapped up in his own little world.

Believe it or not, I’m actually not taking this thing with him so well. I’m sure people think he was just a means to an end, or a replacement for Justin, but that really wasn’t the case.

I do care about him. Just… not as much as I should.

And we all know who’s to blame for that.

We all sit in silence for several minutes before the door to the conference room opens and Justin steps inside. Surprisingly, he isn’t alone.

I can honestly say I’ve never seen this woman before. I know every single person who works in this building, right down to the elderly man who cleans the windows. So, who the hell is she?

She’s obviously a few years older than the rest of us, probably closer to Jace’s age actually. Her brown hair is pulled away from her face and her light blue eyes travel over every face in the room slowly, lingering on mine a little longer than anyone else’s.

“Alright, so…” Justin clears his throat and shoves his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Umm… thank you guys for getting here so soon. I wouldn’t have been able to do this on the road, so… yeah. Anyway, we’ve got some news.”

Oh great. Here we go.

He smiles awkwardly before glancing at Lucas. “Lucas has decided to leave the band.”

Stella and Benny immediately turn to glare at Lucas and I slide down in my seat slightly. Somehow, I know this whole thing is going to be turned around on me. I just fucking know it.

“We’re holding auditions for a new guitarist right now, so if you guys know somebody, I’d suggest you send them our way. Secondly… this information has already made its way to the press. And of course, people are freaking the fuck out.”

“I can draw up a statement when we’re finished here.” Jc nods, scribbling furiously on the sheet of paper in front of him. “I can have it ready to print in a couple hours, then we can-”

“I’m not finished.” Justin clears his throat and smiles politely. “This is turning into a bigger deal than I thought it would. So, I had no choice but to bring in some help.” He gestures to the woman beside him and she grins. “This is Frankie Byers. She was an assistant PR director at Jive, and is looking to go out on her own. So, I’ve hired her to handle all PR for the band.”

“So… she’s… a publicist?” Benny looks around the room quickly, nothing but confusion marring his features. “And Luke’s leaving the band? Ok… somebody wanna explain what the fuck’s going on around here?”

See? I knew it. I fucking knew this would get turned around on me.

“I don’t want to do this.” Lucas speaks up before anyone else has the chance. “I think I’d be better off going out on my own. I hope this works out for you guys, but it’s just… it’s not right for me.”

“Thanks a fucking lot.” Benny mutters and rolls his eyes. “You spent how many years riding my ass about being professional, about taking this band somewhere… you get what you fucking want, and you’re gonna bail? Real professional man.”

“Everybody just calm down.” Justin raises his voice and shoots a warning glare around the room. “This isn’t the end of the world, alright? We’ll clean up the mess, find another guitarist and keep going. The main thing here is for everyone to just cooperate.”

Yeah, that’ll happen.

“Justin’s right.” Jc nods seriously. “You guys just keep working, we can handle the rest of it. So…” He drawls out as he turns back to Justin. “Anything in particular you want in the statement?”

“Actually, Frankie’s going to handle damage control. I want you out on the road with the band.”

Ok… am I the only one seeing the way Jc’s starting to tense up and grit his teeth? He looks like he’s about to fucking snap and I’m sure it won’t be pretty.

“I can do it. I’ve been taking care of this stuff on my own since the beginning. Really, it’s no problem.”

“Jace… I hired Frankie for this type of stuff, specifically. Nobody should be doing all this shit alone. It’s insane man.”

“Fine.” He mutters and moves to stand up. “If we’re done here, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

Jc quickly exit’s the room, the rest of slowly trailing behind him.

“Madison… can you stay for a couple minutes?” Justin calls out and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

See… I knew I’d end up getting shit for this.

“What’s up?”

“Have a seat.” Frankie gestures across the table and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes at her.

I don’t know her, and I swear, I’m going to be nice. I will not jump to conclusions about why she’s here, or what it has to do with me.

“Look… I don’t know what you all think I did, but I swear to god… I tried to talk him out of leaving… when he was still actually speaking to me.”

“I just need to know what really happened.” Frankie smiles politely and I nod dumbly.

How can I explain this to her, without telling the whole long, drawn out story? Cause let’s face it… things that happen around here are usually some type of reaction.

“We broke up.” I shrug. “He probably won’t admit it… but he’s putting the blame mostly on me, which I guess I kind of deserve. But I swear to christ… I didn’t force him to leave.”

“Why is he blaming you?”

“We really don’t need to get into that.” Justin shakes his head quickly. “We’ll just spin it as, Lucas wants to get into a solo career, we wish him the best, blah, blah, blah.”

Ok… I am totally on board with that idea. If that’s what we present to the world, I won’t get pegged as the bad guy again.

“Honestly Justin, I can’t see that going over too well. They’ve been on tour for two days. Most people wait awhile before they go solo, I thought you of all people would know that.” She sighs and returns her attention back to me. “I think the truth is the best way to go here. The two of you broke up, and there are some creative differences within the band. Everybody comes out unscathed.”

Is it wrong that I’m beginning to really dislike her? Cause, hello… if she tells the entire world that Lucas is leaving the band because he broke up with me, I’ll get pegged as some kind of man abusing, devil woman.

And I am so not cool with that.

“I don’t want to be a brat here, but I am begging you not to do that.” I plead with her. “That’s my personal business and I’d prefer to keep it that way. There’s more to it than just Lucas and I breaking up, and I’m really not prepared to answer those questions.”

She nods slowly, appearing to mull it over. “I know a lot of things have happened in this circle, and I’m sympathetic Madison… I really am. But, sometimes… you’ve got to put on your big girl panties and suck it up. I will print the story you’re asking me to, but only because I don’t know you guys very well. For now, I have to trust that what’s happened here is much bigger than a break up. Just… please don’t take advantage of this.”

“I won’t.” I nod quickly. “Can I go now?”

I practically jump out of my seat as soon as Justin nods and as soon as I’m in the hallway, the tears form in my eyes.

When did I become such a complete and total fuck up? It’s like no matter how hard I try, I manage to screw up everything around me.

And how the hell is someone who met me all of five minutes ago, able to call me on my bullshit?

Maybe she’s right. Maybe it is time to just suck it up.

Before I can make it to the elevator, I hear footsteps behind me and groan quietly.

I am so beyond tired of having to hash this shit out all the time. For once, I’d love to be able to just walk away from something and be left the hell alone.

“Hey… you alright?”

Justin. Of course.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You just… took off kinda quick.” He shrugs. “Look… I know you guys probably don’t like the idea of someone other than me and Jace handling things, but we really need the help and she comes highly recommended. I wouldn’t have brought her on if I thought it wouldn’t work.”

“And why are you trying to justify this to me? You’re in charge. It’s not my place to question your decision.” I shrug, keeping my eyes glued to the changing floor numbers.

“You’re really fucked up about this, aren’t you?” He frowns and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like… you legitimately cared about the guy, didn’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter. He dumped me.” And it was your fault, I add mentally, biting my tongue to keep the words from actually coming out.

“Well…. Uhh… I’m sorry Madison.” He sighs and scratches the back of his neck nervously. “If you umm… need to talk or anything… I’ll be meeting up with you guys again in a few days.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” It comes out a little angrier than I intended, but I just can’t help it.

He’s really confusing the hell out of me.

One minute, he’s jumping down my throat about the smallest, most insignificant shit, and the next, he’s trying to be all sweet and sympathetic. I don’t get it.

And trying to keep up with the mood swings is making my head hurt.

“I’m trying to help… but if you don’t want it, fine. Forget I said anything.” He mutters before turning around and stalking back down the hallway.

See? There is absolutely no way to keep up with this nonsense.

But then again, the fact that he’s trying has to mean something, right? Justin’s always been the one trying to put the pieces back together, while I ran away and hid.

Maybe it’s high time I tried to repair some of the damage that's been done around here.

“Look…. Just tell them no. If they do Leno, we’d have to push back dates and the shows that week are already sold out. See if they’ll book em the week of the fifth. That’s their week off, alright? I gotta go.” I snap my phone shut and stuff it in my pocket as I step into the airport.

I immediately scan the crowd for Trace and frown. Little bastard’s late. Don’t know why I’m surprised.

I move to find a seat to wait for him, but stop when I catch a glimpse of a sign with my name on it.

What the fuck?

The woman holding the sign has her hair pulled back, dark glasses covering her eyes and a ball cap pulled low over her face. But, even with the disguise, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it is.

“Hi.” She smiles as I approach her and quickly grab the sign from her hands before tearing it in half. “Hey! It took me like ten minutes to make that!”

“Really not in the mood for that kind of attention today. Where the hell is Trace?”

“He’s… indisposed.” She smirks. “I sent him on a couple errands. Thought it might be good for us to catch up.”

Catch up?

Is she high?

Does she need money?

Seriously… what the fuck did I do to deserve this?

I mean, I thought it was pretty clear that we have absolutely nothing to say to each other. I can tolerate her for the sake of work, but I really don’t know where this buddy-buddy shit is coming from.

“Catch up on what?”

“Just… stuff.” She shrugs as we head for the car. “It’s been a long time since we just talked, Justin. I kinda miss it.”

“Fine. Talk.” I shoot her a bored look and roll my eyes.

Luckily, the hotel is only about half an hour away from the airport. So, I should be able to get through this without wanting to knock her out.

But then again, this is Madison we’re talking about. She has the power to annoy like no other.

“Well… how’ve you been? I mean… how’s everything outside of work?”

“Alright I guess.”

“Well, good.” She nods slowly and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. “How’s your mom?”

“Good. Just bought a new house, actually. I’ll prolly have to fly out in a couple weeks to help her move. Your parent’s alright?”

“Oh… yeah. They don’t change much.” She chuckles and shakes her head.

It doesn’t take long for the car to become totally silent, and I gotta admit… it’s really fucking awkward.

I guess because in a lot of ways, I feel like I don’t know her anymore. But then again, deep down… I know she’s still the same person.

I guess I just… after everything that’s happened, I can’t see her the same way anymore.

“So… found us a guitarist yet?”

“Nah. But I’m working on it. We’ll find somebody.”

“Right… no, I know.” She smiles awkwardly. “I just… what if Lucas wants to leave before we find somebody?”

“He won’t.”

That is one thing I’m sure about. Lucas Dawson isn’t going anywhere until I can find his replacement.

He can talk all the shit he wants, but he’s well aware that I’d sue him for everything he’s worth. And really… I’m being pretty damn nice by letting him out of his contract to begin with.

Granted… I had some selfish reasons for doing it, but it’s not like I forced him out. I simply agreed to let him go.

Besides… any reason I had for wanting to get rid of Lucas, is gone. I’m done chasing Madison. She’s free to date whoever the hell she wants.

I’ve finally stopped caring.

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

“We’ve got a problem.” Jc clears his throat as he enters my room, a frown firmly in place.

“Yeah?”

He throws the latest copy of Rolling Stone down on the table in front of me and shoots me a pointed look.

Alright… yes, I’m the boss man around here. But… sometimes shit slips past me. I get so much fucking paperwork shoved in front of my face, once in awhile… I sign things without reading them all the way through. It’s completely unintentional… it’s just… a hazard of the business, I guess you could say.

However… I didn’t sign off on this. I make damn sure to read over anything if I ever see the word interview.

But this… this is completely unauthorized.

“How bad?”

“Well… that’s the weird thing… it isn’t even an interview. It’s just a story on Lucas leaving. The problem… is that they know a little too much about what really happened.”

Great.

If I didn’t talk… Jc and Trace didn’t talk… the band sure as hell didn’t talk. That leaves one person.

Frankie.

‘’And… if I recall correctly… someone wanted to release this same exact story, but was shot down. And now, it’s suddenly out there. I’m just curious Justin… who’s in fucking charge around here? Cause I thought it was us… but this… this… woman… is coming here and taking over.”

“She’s not taking over, alright? I’ll take care of this.” I mutter and flip through the pages quickly. “Has Madison seen this yet?”

“Nope.” He chuckles darkly. “I figured I’d leave that to you. Have a good afternoon.”

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Why am I always the one who has to give Madison bad news?

I grab the magazine and quickly head down the hallway, straight for Madison’s dressing room. She’s seated on the couch, guitar in her lap, notebook laying open on the table in front of her.

“Hey.”

“Oh… hi. You need something?”

“Yeah… umm… Jace just brought me this.” I pass her the magazine and bite my lip, just waiting for her to explode.

She thumbs through, stopping on the article, and surprisingly… doesn’t show any form of emotion. It takes her several minutes to read it, then she closes it and tosses it down on the table.

Ok… definitely not how I expected this to go.

“So… umm….”

“Did you approve that?”

“No.”

“Ok. Well… thanks.” She shrugs. “I kind of figured it’d get out somehow. I mean… Lucas was gonna talk eventually. Apparently he’s pretty bitter about all of this, and fucking loathes me. It was just a matter of time.”

“He didn’t talk though. I… I don’t know for sure… but I think Frankie put this out.”

“You said she’s supposed to be some amazing publicist, right?” I nod in response and she shrugs again. “Then it’s probably for the best.”

Ok… who the fuck is this person? Because there is no way in hell this is my Madison.

Not that she’s mine, but… yeah.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m just… trying to keep things calm for a change.” She nods and lays her guitar in its case. “Oh… while you’re here… I’ve got something you should listen to. I think I found a guitarist.”

She places a cd in her laptop and cranks the volume, then sits back to watch me intently.

Even I’ve gotta admit… it’s fucking good. Like… a thousand times better than anything I’ve found. Definitely worth setting up a meeting.

“Who is it?”

“Ryan.” She says simply.

“Ryan… as in… used to play for you… got you hooked on drugs, Ryan?”

“Yeah. He’s… he’s clean, and you know as well as I do, he’s amazing. You should atleast talk to him.”

She’s giving me the puppy dog eyes, and if I didn’t have my shit together… I’d probably say yes right here.

But… she knows exactly when to turn on the charm, and that fact isn’t lost on me.

“I’ll think about it.” I nod slowly as a smile spreads across her face. “But, umm… I gotta go. Good luck tonight.”

I damn near fly out of the room and let out a sigh of relief.

I swear to christ… I don’t know how she does it… but that girl always gets me all turned around and shit. I can’t think straight… I get nervous. But at the same time, I can barely stand to even look at her.

We are the definition of a love/hate relationship.

And as much as I try to hate her, it just doesn’t seem to work.

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

They had a good show. There’s no denying that. Unfortunately, a small part of me can’t see Ryan here.

Maybe he’s been able to convince Madison he’s cleaned up, but I’m not so quick to believe him. And whether or not I want to admit it, Lucas fits here.

You’d think Madison, of all people, would have known better than to get involved with a guy in her band. Some part of her had to know this wouldn’t end well.

But, Lucas made his decision. And I’m not about to try changing his mind. Cause honestly, I just don’t like the dude.

When Madison finally appears in front of me, I grab her by the elbow and pull her off to the side.

I’ve spent most of the day trying to figure out where this laid back approach to everything came from. The Madison I know would have been freaking the fuck out about this whole thing with the Rolling Stone article, and she sure as shit wouldn’t have come to pick me up at the airport the other day.

I don’t understand it. And I really don’t like the way it’s confusing the hell out of me.

“Justin… I gotta get a shower.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Seriously… I stink, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Look… I’ve been thinking… and I really don’t like what’s going on around here.”

“Umm… ok then… what exactly is the problem?” She looks slightly bewildered and I guess I’m not getting my point across.

“You. You’re… you just… you’re too fucking calm!”

Her eyes widen and she starts to giggle. “I’m sorry… I didn’t realize that would be an issue.”

“Yeah… well… I don’t like it.”

Ok… I sound like a fucking moron. I have no idea what I’m doing here.

“Just… why? Why are you being nice to me… why aren’t you freaking out all the god damn time? What the hell is going on?”

“Well…” She smirks and folds her arms over her chest. “It was pretty easy to see you didn’t exactly like the way I was acting before, so I thought it’d be a good idea to change it.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Justin… I’m going to be totally honest with you, ok?” I nod and she grins before taking a step toward me. “I’m… well… I thought… oh, fuck it.” She mumbles before quickly sliding her arms around my neck and placing her lips against mine.

No, no, no.

I was doing such a good job of distancing myself from her, and she just went and fucked that all up.

She finally leans back, her body still pressed against mine, and stares at me.

“That’s why.” She takes a step back, smiles at me, then strolls down the hallway like nothing happened.

I’m living in the fucking Twilight Zone. That’s the only reasonable explanation for any of this.

 

 

I know exactly what you’re thinking, but I’m gonna go ahead and stop you. Because you’re wrong.

Yes, I am taking a much more laid back, grown up approach to life. However, no… it’s not for Justin’s benefit. It’s simply because it needs to happen. And, if I’m able to win Justin back in the process, then yay for me. But, that’s not the only reason for it.

As stupid as it probably sounds, this Lucas thing kind of opened my eyes. Sure, I could have gone ballistic and completely lost my shit when he broke up with me, then decided to quit the band, but honestly… what good would that have done?

Not to mention, that’s the kind of shit that pushed Justin away… surely, it would have done the same to Lucas, even if he was going to stay.

I’m not saying I’ve done some huge turnaround over night, but I’m trying.

Really, what else can I do? Trying is a pretty big step in the right direction, if ya ask me.

I’m sure you’re also probably wondering what the hell possessed me to even consider bringing Ryan back into the picture. And there’s a very simple explanation for it.

I got a second chance… Why shouldn’t he?

He put himself through rehab. So did I. He worked his ass off to get himself straightened out, just like I did. Why shouldn’t something good happen to him, the same way it did for me?

I guess I’m just trying to do what was done for me. I cleaned up my act and got another shot. Why can’t he?

And I’m not saying Justin has to hire him or anything. I just think he at least deserves the opportunity to prove himself.

 Doesn’t everybody?

 

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

 

 

Why do people insist on calling me before dawn?

I’m fairly certain everyone I know has made it their life mission to screw me out of sleep. Which is kind of retarded on their part, seeing as how I’m right up there with Satan when I haven’t had a decent night's sleep.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and flip it open, not even bothering to mumble out a greeting.

“My hotel room. Now.”

Justin.

Of fucking course.

If there is anyone in the world who lives to torture me, it’s him. And it’s not like-

Wait one damn minute… his hotel room? Now?

If this asshole thinks he can call me out of nowhere and demand sex, he’s… well… ok fine, yeah he can do that.

I bolt out of bed, change, and manage to apply make up in under ten minutes. Granted, I’ve definitely looked better, but do you really have to look your best for spur of the moment sex?

I stroll down the hallway casually, doing everything I can to not skip like a twelve year old girl. This has to be a good thing, right?

I mean… this… this could actually end with us getting back together. Granted, this isn’t exactly how I wanted it to happen, but I guess you take what you can get sometimes.

I reach his door and take a deep breath. I fluff out my hair, smooth the wrinkles in my shirt and knock. It takes a minute or two, but the door finally swings open. Justin doesn’t say a word. He simply turns around and heads back inside.

Ok… I may have been all excited ten seconds ago, but he is not going to get away with acting like a douche. We do this the right way, or we don’t do it at all.

I step inside and immediately feel like the world's biggest fucking idiot.

A small wooden table is pulled into the center of the room, three chairs surrounding it, two of them already occupied.

Justin is seated on one side, Ryan on the other, leaving the third for me.

Of all the awkward situations I’ve been in in my life, this just might be the ultimate. I mean, yeah… I was hoping Justin would at least interview Ryan. I just didn’t exactly plan on being part of that process.

“Have a seat Madison.” Justin smirks and I would love to slap the shit out of him. But, I’ll play nice.

I ease down into my chair and try to hide my surprise when I see a stack of what looks like contracts laying on the table. As much as I hoped for this, I really didn’t expect Justin to take it this seriously. The guy never listens to me, so I think that reaction was only natural.

“What’s going on?”

“You referred an applicant. I figured you should be here for the interview.” Justin nods, while Ryan smiles nervously.

“Really? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Yeah well… I’m the boss. I can do whatever I want.” He laughs and rolls his eyes. “So, Ryan… what have you been doing the past… almost two years?”

“Well… I spent about four months in a rehab clinic in LA. I’ve been going to NA meetings since I got out. I’ve been renting an apartment in the city for about six months now… not the greatest place to live, but it works. I got a job playing in a house band in this shitty little dive bar…. And… that’s about it, I guess.” He shrugs. “Nothing too exciting.”

“And you’ve been clean the whole time?” Justin eyes him carefully and I’ve got a funny feeling this whole deal is resting on the answer to that question.

Which I completely understand, but… they didn’t do this to me.

 In all honesty, no one ever showed any concern about whether or not I’d relapse. It was like… everyone forgot the whole thing ever happened. I wasn’t held accountable for what I did. But Ryan is, and love him or hate him… that’s not fucking fair.

“Well… I think I’d been out of rehab three months, and I kind of screwed up one night. But that was it.” He frowns, knowing he probably just blew any chance he had. “Those meetings are just… so fucked up. It’s like… nobody there really even wants to get clean. They’re there because they have to be. And it was really fuckin hard to be the only one there who actually wanted to get their shit together.”

“So, if I asked you to take a piss test right now, it’d come back negative?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright then. I’ll hire you… but you’re on fuckin probation. I’ve got a clause in this contract stating that I can drug test you whenever I damn well please. Once I’m satisfied with the way things are going… we’ll draw up a permanent contract.”

“Seriously? I mean… you’re not fucking with me or anything?”

“Nope. Sign here.” Justin nods and shoves the paper across the table to Ryan.

I don’t know how or why, but things are finally starting to head in a decent direction.

It’s about fuckin time.

 

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

 

I jump at the sound of a loud knock and look up to find Lucas leaning against the door frame, looking everywhere but at me.

Well… this is a surprise and a fuckin half. In the two weeks since he dumped me, he hasn’t so much as uttered a single word to me. He’s been staying on the second bus, with the roadies and crew members, and honestly… the only time anyone actually sees him is while we’re on stage.

Other than that, he’s turned himself in a total hermit.

Deep down, I know this is how it’s supposed to be. I, of all people, should have known better than to get involved with someone in my band. It never fails to fuck things up.

The sad part is… it’s not like Lucas is a bad guy. Our relationship didn’t end because he was horrible to me or anything. I know it’s probably the ultimate cliché, but he’s just… misunderstood.

People look at him and see a temper, arrogance, or a bad attitude. But really… it’s determination, belief and drive. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to stop until he got it. If it wasn’t for Lucas, this band would still be in Colorado, playing Fleetwood Mac covers at shitty bars every night.

Actually, I kind of admire him for what he’s accomplished in such a short time.

“You got a minute?”

“Oh.. Umm… yeah. Yeah, sure.” I scramble to move the papers laid out in front of me and quickly shove them in my guitar case.

“If not, I can come back later or something. It’s really not-”

“No, you’re fine.” I shoot him what I hope is an encouraging smile and nod. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“Alright, well…” He clears his throat and shuffles into the room awkwardly. “I.. uhh… I talked to Justin a little while ago. He said he’s got my replacement and since we’ve… well, you guys have next week off, tonight’s gonna be my last show.”

I can do one of two things here. Tell him that I’m well aware of that fact, or, see if that’s really all he came to say.

We all know I’m a nosy ass, so guess which option I’m picking.

“Oh… umm… ok. Guess you’re pretty happy about that, right?”

“Yes. And no.” He chuckles and finally seems to relax. “You know… at first, I wanted to leave because of you. I was so fucking mad at you that I just.. I had to get out, and I really didn’t give a shit what it cost me. But, the more I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t about you at all. Somewhere along the line, I figured out that this isn’t how I wanted to do this. I mean shit… we all know I’m way too controlling to be in a band. It just took me longer than anybody else to figure it out.”

“Good thing we never accused you of being the smart one, huh?”

Ok… probably not the best time to start cracking jokes, but I’m not quite sure what else to do.

Lucas has never been this open about anything, with anyone. I mean, we didn’t even know he had a brother, for Christ sake. So this… this is a big fucking deal. Especially since I’ve gotten nothing but the silent treatment for two weeks.

“It just finally hit me that I want to go out on my own. I always did.” He nods slowly, eyes glued to the floor. “I want to prove that I can do it, just me. Ya know? And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys that. I spent so much time blaming you, cause it was the easy way out, and I was so fucking scared. But I just… I wanted to apologize. Prolly should have a long fuckin time ago.”

“Lucas… that’s… well… ok.” I mutter stupidly.

I’m completely friggen clueless here.

I haven’t got the slightest idea how to respond to that. It’s not like I have to apologize to him. I don’t have to explain anything. I don’t think I’ve ever been on the receiving end of a one sided apology. It’s always been me apologizing, or both people.

This is way too fuckin weird for me.

“Well, I hope it works out for you. I really do.”

Ugh. Could I sound more like a freaking hallmark card?

“You and me both.” He grins. “Cause if it doesn’t, I’m kinda fucked. But thank you.”

Call me crazy, but I wish he could have been like this from the beginning. If he had, we probably would have worked out. And I’m not just talking about the band.

Whether anyone believes it or not, I did care about him. Just not as much as I probably should have.

“Can I ask you a favor? I mean… you can say no. But Benny and Stella already said it was ok… but if you don’t want to, it’s totally fine.”

“Umm… yeah, I guess.”

“I’ve been working on some songs, and I was… I was kind of hoping I could play one tonight. Just… for some closure, I guess.” He laughs and rolls his eyes. “It’s pretty simple… but, if you don’t want to… it’s fine.”

“I’ll do it.” I nod.

And I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t enjoy the way his eyes light up, or the huge smile that stretches across his face.

 

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

 

This is it.

The crowd hasn’t got a clue, but this is really it. I didn’t expect it to be this hard. I mean, we’ve all known for weeks now. But now that the time has actually come… I’m a little heartbroken, honestly.

The four of us worked so damn hard for this. And even though I know Ryan’s going to be great, this isn’t going to be the same without Lucas.

And… if, god forbid, his solo stuff doesn’t work out… he’ll be finished. And that would be a damn shame. Music could use a hell of a lot more guys like Lucas.

“Alright… if everybody will shut the hell up for five minutes, I got some shit to say.” He grins as the house lights come up and the crowd roars. “As I’m sure everyone’s heard by now… I am leaving the band. Thanks Rolling Stone.” He rolls his eyes and laughs. “Tonight is my last show, so I want to take a minute to thank every single person who came to a show, bought the album… supported us, believed in us, told their friends about us… whatever. You all made this happen. And I thank you for it. So, uhh… it’s been fun people.”

The lights go down once again and Lucas’s voice seems to echo throughout the arena.

And as stupid as it sounds, I can’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes.

 

Loneliness pacing up and down these hallways
Second-guessing every thought
Mystified, just spinning 'round in circles
Drowning in the silent screaming with nothing left to say

Every time I reach for you, there's no one there to hold on to
Nothing left for me to miss, I'm letting go, letting go of this
Lost my mind thinking it through, the light inside has left me too
Now I know what empty is, I've had enough, I've had enough of this.

I believe that love should be a reason
To give and get back in return
I wanna breathe in a new beginning
With someone who will wrap her arms around what's left of me

Every time I reach for you, there's no one there to hold onto
Nothing left for me to miss, I'm letting go, letting go of this
Lost my mind thinking it through, the light inside has left me too
Now I know what empty is, I've had enough, I've had enough of this.

Inside I'm barely holding on
There's something that's already gone
I'm tired of being the one who's in this all alone

Every time I reach for you, there's no one there to hold on to
Nothing left for me to miss, I'm letting go of this
Lost my mind thinking it through, the light inside has left me too
Now I know what empty is, I've had enough, I've had enough of this.
Every time I reach for you, there's no one there to hold on to
Nothing left for me to miss, I'm letting go, letting go of this
Lost my mind thinking it through, the light inside has left me too
Now I know what empty is, I've had enough, had enough of this

 

Something tells me, Lucas Dawson is gonna be just fine on his own.

 

 

"Had Enough"- Lifehouse

 

 

 

So, I guess I should be jumping up and down right about now or something, but I’m not.

Am I glad Lucas is gone? Sure.

Granted, I didn’t know him all that well and I guess he wasn’t a bad dude, but I didn’t exactly enjoy being around the guy who was screwing my ex-girlfriend/wife.

However, having Lucas out of the picture just made room for Ryan and I’m not really sure which one’s worse.

I mean yeah, I didn’t have to hire the guy, but if Madison was willing to vouch for him after the shit he put her through, I figured there may be some truth to his story. So, we’ll wait and see what happens.

But, if he thinks I was bluffing with the random drug testing stuff, he’s dead ass wrong. I fully intend on seeing that through. Hell, I may even start testing Madison, just for the hell of it.

There’s a loud knock on my door and I can’t help but roll my eyes. I can only assume the band is just getting back from their show and Jc is coming to bitch about the venue or the promoters and god knows what else. I reluctantly slide off of the couch and head for the door.

It’s fucking midnight. Can’t these people just go to their rooms and sleep like normal human beings? I mean shit… I’m getting too damn old for this up all night garbage.

I jerk the door open and I gotta admit, I’m a little surprised to find Madison standing there.

“Yes?”

“I have a bone to pick with you.” She mutters and barges into the room without any form of an invitation.

“Ok, well… feel free to submit that to the complaint department in the morning. For now, I’d like to sleep.”

“What was that shit this morning?”

Clearly, I’m the only one concerned with how much sleep I do or do not get. Big surprise there, eh?

“Umm… what shit?”

“Oh don’t play stupid.” She rolls her eyes and begins to pace. “That ‘my hotel room now’ shit. What were you trying to pull?”

Ok… am I the only one who’s a little lost here? Cause I haven’t got the slightest fuckin clue what this crazy woman’s talking about.

Not that that’s anything out of the ordinary, but sometimes it’s nice to know why you’re getting yelled at.

“Well… I’d think it was self explanatory. I needed you in my room. Now.” I shrug and for a split second, I’m a little afraid that she’s gonna hit me.

“And you couldn’t have taken two seconds to tell me what was so important? Do you have any idea what I was…. Ok, it really doesn’t matter what I was thinking. That was just.. A really shitty thing to do!”

“What the hell did you think I wanted?”

I swear to god… you cannot fucking win with her. One day, she doesn’t give a shit what you do. The next, she’s pissed off because… who the fuck knows.

See man… I knew it was bullshit. All of that ‘oh I’m growing up, blah, blah, blah’ nonsense was pure fucking bullshit.

There isn’t a damn thing about her that’s any different.

“Are you even hearing yourself right now? You sound like a god damn idiot.”

“Don’t you dare call me an idiot!” She screeches. “How about I call you at the ass crack of dawn and demand you come to my room. Let’s see how you’d react, you prick.”

“I’d check the caller ID, see it was you and not answer, because you’d probably be calling to yell at me for some dumb shit I didn’t understand.”

“And you wonder why I left your sorry ass. This was a complete fucking waste of time.” She frowns and moves to head for the door.

In the back of my mind, I know I should just keep my mouth shut.

But…. No such luck.

“I knew it was all bullshit.” I laugh humorlessly and shake my head. “You haven’t changed a fucking bit Madison.”

She stops dead in her tracks and turns to face me. Oddly enough, she looks totally calm. Not at all what I was expecting.

“Actually, that’s the problem.” She sighs sadly. “I have. You haven’t. I can only do so much on my own. At some point Justin… you’ve got to stop being a jackass and take some god damn responsibility for your side.”

“Hey… I more than took responsibility for my shit. You’re the problem woman, not me.”

“You’re a fucking moron.” She mutters as she steps out into the hallway and slams the door behind her.

I swear to Christ… one day, we’re gonna kill each other, and I’m sure there isn’t a single person who’d be the least bit surprised.

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

The ringing of the phone causes my eyes to snap open and I look around, not completely adjusted to the dark just yet. I reach for the phone on the nightstand, muttering to myself when I knock several things over.

I’m finally able to get a hold of the phone and frown. Somebody better be fuckin dead. That’s the only reasonable explanation for my room phone ringing at four in the god damn morning.

“Yeah?”

“Umm… Mr. Timberlake? This is Allen at the front desk. I apologize for waking you at this hour, but we’ve received quite a few complaints regarding the noise in 1342. I’ve called the room several times and haven’t been able to get answer.”

“Umm… ok.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh.

How is it that we rent out an entire floor of this damn place, and still manage to piss people off? Only us, I swear.

“Mr. Timberlake, if any more complaints are lodged, I’ll have to ask all of you to leave the premises.”

“Ok… ok. I’ll handle it. I’m sorry.” I place the phone back in its cradle and rub my face tiredly.

If I really wanted to be an asshole, I could wake Jc up and make him deal with it. But even I’m not that much of a dick.

I grab the extra room key and quickly make my way down the hall, the music coming from 1342 getting louder with each step.

Can't break free from the things that you do.
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for lovin you.

Doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s in there, does it?

I open the door and I’m not sure if I should laugh, or have her committed.

The empty bottles scattered all over the floor are a pretty good sign that she raided the liquor cabinet. And chances are good that’s what led to everything I’m seeing now.

Daylight spent the night without you
But I've been dreamin' 'bout the lovin' you do
I won't be as angry 'bout the hell you put me through

Hey man bet you can treat me right
You just don't know what you was missin' last night
I wanna see your face and say forget it just for spite

Madison is wearing what looks like one of my old t-shirts and nothing else, jumping on the bed while playing air guitar and singing wildly out of key.

Can't break free from the things that you do.
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for lovin you.

"So, what happens now?"

"Umm... I guess we just hang out till it's time to go to the venue, and that's not till around four... so..."

"I meant with Justin." Stella snorts and shakes her head slowly. "Good lord girl... are you really this damn dense?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Ok... I didn't say a word to anyone about what happened the other night. I swear... sometimes I think Stella's psychic and that's just scary.

"You slept with him." She smiles knowingly. "It's written all over your face. So... what's the plan?"

"I didn't sleep with him." I mutter and roll my eyes. "And there's no plan."

"Ahh... lying to me now too, eh?" She chuckles and for a split second, I kind of want to slap her. "That's all good and well... but you're playing with fucking fire Mads."

"Right." I nod and quickly slide out of the booth.

"I'm trying to help, ya know. You've got to be careful. This back and forth mess you have with him is just going to bite you in the ass. You need to clear it up, or end it."

I shoot her the best smile I can manage and damn near haul ass out of the hotel restaurant.

Gotta admit... I'm not exactly thrilled that what I do in my spare time is so easy to figure out. Especially when it's something I'd like to keep private.

Granted, I know Stella's a hundred percent right. But... why do I have to have a plan? I mean... can't I just wing it? Maybe for once, I don't want to over-think the whole thing.

Besides... Justin so obviously isn't sitting around freaking out, so why the hell should I? I don't regret it or anything, but it would be nice to have it atleast be acknowledged.

To put it simply... he's avoiding me. And not just, won't answer his phone avoiding me. If I see him in the hallway, he's conveniently going the other direction. If we're in thez88;same room, he suddenly has to leave for some super important meetingz88;or phone call.

It's blatantly obvious, but it's fine. I guess in some weird way, I don't really blame him. Neither of us knows what the hell is happening here, or how we're supposed to act, and it's really fucking weird.

But, as I've had to learn the hard way, many, may times... ignoring it doesn't solve the problem. Then again... maybe that's exactly how we should be handling this.

Maybe if I show him that I'm not gonna go totally psycho on him, he'll loosen up.

Damnit... I promised myself I wouldn't do this. My over analyzing never helps anything. Hell... that's a big part of why we've ended up where we are now.

I make my way through the lobby and can't help but roll my eyes when I spot Justin waiting for the elevator.

I should probably take the stairs... but where's the fun in that?

I head straight for him, praying like hell that he won't see me before I actually make it. For the first time in days, he's by himself and doesn't have a fucking phone glued to his ear. I'd say this qualifies as one of those now or never type situations.

I'm just feet away from him when the elevator arrives, and I pick up my pace, smiling stupidly to myself. This is almost too freaking perfect.

I catch the elevator just in time, not missing the way he rolls his eyes when I hit the button for my floor. If I wanted to be a real brat, I could hit every single button for every floor and trap him here, but even I know that borders on the not fun side of crazy.

However, I don't have a whole lot of time here, so I better make the most of it.

"Morning." I murmur, keeping my eyes on the changing numbers.

"Mornin."

"So... Ryan seems to be fitting in pretty well."

"Oh... umm.... yeah. Definitely." He nods, not so much as even glancing in my direction.

Alright... this is just fucking uncomfortable. And I haven't got the slightest idea how to fix it.

"Umm... we're all gonna grab dinner after the show tonight."

Yeah... probably should have thought ahead on this. I mean... it shouldn't be too hard to convince everybody to go out... they always do anyway.

"Oh, really? That's cool." He nods.

"You should come." He finally looks over at me, and if I'm not mistaken... he looks kind of... confused. "We haven't all gone out together in awhile. I thought it'd be fun."

"Yeah... yeah. Sounds cool." He forces a smile and nods again. "I'll catch you guys after the show, alright? Anyway... this is me. Later." The doors are barely even open before he's darting off the elevator and down the hallway.

Ok... the awkwardness isn't lost on me, but it's a start, right?

;Unfortunately, I'm beginning to see just how dead on Stella is. Cause as much as this sucks on a personal level, it could make business even worse.

And there's no fuckin way I can let that happen.

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

“Good show.” Jc grins as the four of us file off the stage.

I nod in response and take a long swig of my water. “You get the reservation?”

“Yeah. We’ll head out once everybody’s cleaned up.”

Yes, I really have stooped this low.

I convinced everyone to go to dinner under the guise of a big, happy band get together. When really, all I’m trying to do is force Justin into spending time with me.

I’m well aware of the fact that it’s pathetic as hell. But really… what other choice do I have? The guy damn near trips over himself trying to get away from me.

So, I’ve got a good feeling about this little plan. He needs to see that I’m trying to be somewhat grown up about the mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. And I honestly think this could be the way to do it.

“Where’s Justin?”

“Haven’t seen him.” Jc shrugs. “Just get a shower. I’ll call him.”

Ok… nothing to freak out about, right? I mean… it’s actually pretty normal for Justin to not be at our shows. Jc will call him, he’ll meet us at the restaurant and everything will be fine.

I shower and change quickly, making sure to put no extra effort into my appearance. What? I don’t want the idiot thinking I’m trying too hard.

Yeah… I’m definitely putting way too much thought into this. Sometimes, I’m convinced that I really am out of my damn mind.

It doesn’t take long before I’m seated at a table, surrounded by almost everyone I know. They’re all chatting easily, browsing the menu and doing exactly what they think this gathering was intended for.

Sadly… all I can do is stare at the single empty seat, and pout like a two year old.

It’s ok… he’s probably just running late. It’s not like he’s so desperate to avoid me that he’d actually bail on everyone, right?

“What’s up your ass?” Trace elbows me and grins before taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh… umm… nothing. Tired.” I shrug and pick up my menu, attempting to blend in.

“Right.” He mutters and rolls his eyes. “Ya know… this would be really cool if Justin would’ve pulled the stick out of his ass and shown up. You’d have the whole crew here then.”

“He’ll be here.” I mutter. Sometimes, I kind of wish Trace would just disappear.

“No he won’t. He stayed at the hotel to work on some shit.”

Oh he has got to be fucking kidding.

“So… he’s not coming at all?”

“Uhh.. No.” Trace shrugs. “Who cares. He’d just be all pissy anyway. Hey… you alright? Your nostrils are flaring and it’s really fucking scary.”

“I’m fine.” I jerk my bag off of the floor and storm out of the restaurant without another word.

If I find that no good, god damn coward, I may actually kill him. Then I’ll figure out a way to bring him back to life, and kill him again.

I know what’s happening isn’t ideal, and yeah… it fucking sucks. But I’m trying to fix it damnit! And for some reason, he seems hellbent on making it worse.

He’s always given me so much shit for running away from things, but when I do actually try to face something and straighten it out, he refuses to cooperate.

Honestly, I don’t know why I’m bothering.

I make the two block trek back to the hotel, my mind running over the dozens of things I want and need to say. Whether or not I’ll actually get them out is the big question, but at least I have a plan, right?

I take the elevator to our floor and march straight to Justin’s room, knocking on the door as loudly as humanly possible.

Nothing.

I pound my fist into the door again and roll my eyes. “Justin… open the damn door!”

Silence.

Ok… I guess it is possible that he’s not actually in his room. And of course, like the lunatic I am… I have every intention of hunting his ass down.

I knock on almost every single door, and get no response at any of them. Clearly, he is not hiding in a room.

And yes… at this point, I’m pretty much convinced that he’s hiding.

I make my way back down to the lobby, checking the weight room, the pool, the bar.

In the span of 20 minutes, I’ve scoured this entire fucking hotel and he is nowhere to be found.

I spot a man behind the front desk, and figure this is as good a place as any to ask. Surely this guy would have seen him if he left the building.

“Hi… Mark.” I smile as I approach him, my eyes flitting to his name tag, then back to his face. “I was wondering if you’d seen Justin Timberlake anywhere?”

No… that doesn’t make me sound like a psycho at all. Then again… I’m not exactly concerned about front desk guy thinking I may or may not be crazy.

There are more pressing matters at hand. Like the fact that I am going to painfully murder the king of pop.

“No Miss Fox… I haven’t seen him all evening.”

“Are you sure? Because he isn’t on our floor. And I was supposed to meet him somewhere and-”

“Haven’t seen him.” He shoots me a nervous smile and that’s when it clicks.

He’s lying.

I’d like to think that over the last couple years, I’ve learned to read people. In most cases, it’s pretty easy to spot a liar from a mile away. They won’t look you in the eyes, they interrupt you to get their point across. They pretend they’re entirely too busy to be bothered with whatever you’re asking them.

Yep… he’s definitely lying.

“You know where he is.”

“I assure you Miss Fox… I do not.”

“Ok… this really isn’t the time to fuck with me.” I smile sweetly and front desk guy swallows hard. “I am having a pretty shitty day, and I need to find Justin Timberlake. Now. So… I’d suggest you cough up whatever you know, or you and I are going to have a serious god damn problem.”

“He… he came down about an hour ago… he… he left through the back, by the kitchens.”

He’s on the bus.

He’s a sneaky fucker, I’ll give him that much.

“Thank you. You’ve been ever so helpful.” I roll my eyes and stalk toward the kitchens.

If he isn’t on this bus… well… bad things will happen. We’ll leave it at that.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see lights on. Definitely a good sign. I climb onto the bus quietly and smile when I hear the faint sound of a keyboard and Justin’s voice softly singing along with a melody that I’ve never heard.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I heard him play. I actually kind of miss it.

I enter the backroom of the bus and find him seated on the floor, keyboard laid out in front of him, sheet music scattered all around. I can just barely make out his small, untidy scrawl marked all over the pages.

“So…” I clear my throat and he jumps a little. “You missed dinner to write?”

“Uhh… yeah. Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

“Sure about that? Cause you’ve been avoiding me for about three days now, and I don’t think it’s just some coincidence that you missed dinner.”

“I said I was sorry. God damn… lay the fuck off, will you?” He mutters and shakes his head. “Shouldn’t you be at dinner anyway?”

“I left.” I shrug and plop down on the couch. “See… I, unlike you apparently, think we need to do some serious talking.”

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

“Oh… ok. So, the other night meant absolutely nothing, and was just another example of me being the party girl slut you seem to think I am, right? That’s great Justin. I’m so fucking glad that you have no problem ignoring the shit you do to me.”

“The shit I do to you?” He laughs bitterly and rolls his eyes. “Don’t sit there and act like some poor pitiful victim. Anything I’ve done to you… you already did twice as much to me. If you think this clusterfuck isn’t a two way street… you can leave right now.”

“Right. Because that’s exactly what you expect, isn‘t it? For me to just ignore it and run away again. Guess what? Not gonna happen. You’ve been on my ass for years to stand up and face shit. We aren’t leaving this bus until we get some shit straight.”

“Guess we’re gonna be here for a long fuckin time then.”

Clearly, I was an idiot to think he’d agree to actually talking this shit out.

He’s always been so quick to judge me for blowing the tough stuff off, but he does it too. He’s run from everything just as much as I have.

He’s one hundred percent right on this being a two way street. And that’s exactly why we’re both going to sit here and figure it all out.

Come hell or highwater, there’s going to be some type of resolution tonight.

“I don’t even know what you want me to say.” He sighs, pushing the keyboard away and turning to face me. “It meant something… I fuckin told you that. Everything with you means something. I just haven’t got a fucking clue what, and I drive myself crazy trying to figure it out. And then you start acting like a god damn lunatic… and I hate you so fucking much when you do that. And then… just when I’m ready to wash my hands of you… you… you have this moment where you’re the girl I met four years ago, and just when I think we can go back… some other bullshit comes up… and I fucking hate you again.”

I knew it.

I’ve always known that somewhere in the back of his mind, he hated me. Hell… I knew when we first met that he pretty much loathed me, and I guess maybe that hatred never completely went away.

In some weird way… I get it. And if I’m being honest… there’s a small part of me that’s always hated him.

But I managed to get past it. Apparently, he didn’t.

“Yeah… you don’t have anything to say, do you?” I mumble, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. If I look at him now, I’ll totally lose my shit, and I’m not about to let him see me cry again.

“You’re taking this shit the wrong way. Damnit Madison… I… I don’t even know how to talk to you anymore. You’re different… and I’m different… and it’s just… it’s not bad different.” He frowns and shakes his head. “Look, I know all you’re hearing is how much I hate you. But you know damn well, as much as I hate you sometimes… I… fuck… as lame as it sounds, I love you ten times more than that. And you’re so wrapped up in hating me, that you don’t even realize it.”

“Could you just fucking once… manage to not put me down? Seriously Justin… I am so damn tired of your backwards ass way of thinking. No matter what you’re trying to say… you still find a way to call me fucking crazy, or stupid. If that’s what you really think… then you’re right… there isn’t anything to fucking say here.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. You oughta know that shit by now. As for the crazy part…” He smirks and I can’t stop myself from kicking him in the side. “Ow! God damnit woman… you came here just to abuse me, didn’t you?”

“Like you don’t deserve it.” I mutter, ignoring the pout that takes over his face. “I just… I love you. And yeah… I fucked up a lot, I know that. But I want to make it right. And I want you to make your shit right. And if we can get even half way back to what we were… then all the bullshit we’ve put ourselves through is gonna be worth it. But I can’t do this on my own Justin. You have to help me, or this isn’t gonna go anywhere.”

“Madison…” He sighs, a frown quickly settling on his face.

Oh god… I am fucking stupid.

I just assumed that there was some hope of salvaging what we had, and didn’t even think about whether or not that’s what he wanted.

See… this is a prime example of why running is the best way to go. Had I ignored all of this, I wouldn’t have just made a complete jackass of myself.

“You know what… forget I said anything. That’s not what you want… and that’s fine.” I force a smile for his benefit and nod. “Sorry I interrupted you.” I slide off of the couch and head for the door, only to have him jump up from his spot on the floor and grab me by the arm, spinning me around to face him.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, alright?” He says quietly, looking me dead in the eyes. “I want that… more than you do, probably. I just don’t want to get my hopes up and have it not work out. But… if you’re gonna put in the effort, then you bet your ass I will too.”

He smiles at me, and for the first time in god knows how long… it’s genuine. He hasn’t smiled at me like that in almost two years. And it feels really fucking good.

And it actually makes me believe that somewhere down the road… we just might be ok.

I have come to a realization this morning.

No woman on the fucking planet has sharper elbows than Madison Fox. If you think I’m kidding, I’ll be more than happy to show you the bruises that are surely popping up all along my stomach and ribcage.

Sometimes I think she takes all of her aggression out on me in bed, and no… not in a fun way.

She kicks, flails her arms around and slaps me in the god damn face, scratches me, and she denies it to this day… but I know she bit me one time. I had her fucking teeth marks in my arm for two days.

And she has absolutely no idea that she does this. She falls asleep, and it’s like she slips into a fucking coma. I’m pretty sure someone could walk in here, torture me for hours on end, and she’d sleep right through it.

But, despite the fact that she abuses me in her sleep, I like waking up next to her. Believe it or not, I missed it a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I would.

Ya know… I’m actually glad she tracked my ass down and made me talk to her last week. A lot of that shit needed to be said, and let’s face it… she needed to step up and deal with something rather than ignore it, and hide from it.

Which is exactly what I was doing by avoiding her, and yeah… not one of my finer moments, but it did the trick, now didn’t it?

I’m not gonna sit here and pretend it was some quick fix to everything, but it was a start that we both really fucking needed. I don’t know what’s going to happen three months from now, but if the last seven days are any indication, I honestly think it’s going to be ok.

I feel a sharp kick in my side and look over to find Madison still out cold, mouth hanging wide open, hair tangled and sticking up in a thousand different directions. Don’t get me wrong… she’s a pretty girl no matter what, but fuck…that’s scary.

And quite frankly… I’m tired of being treated like her god damn punching bag.

I elbow her in the shoulder a little rougher than I originally intended and she yelps in pain, her eyes flying open.

“What the fuck, you dick! I was asleep!” She screeches, sitting up and taking a swing at me, just barely missing my jaw.

“You’ve been beating the hell out of me for the last six hours.” I smirk as she rolls her eyes and lays back down with a huff.

“You are so full of shit. I have always stayed on my side of the bed.” She mutters angrily. “I think the problem is you tried to molest me while I was asleep, and got rejected.”

“Right… because that makes sense.” I laugh as she glares at me. “I molest you… you reject me… and I end up with broken ribs. Yeah… I see the logic in that.”

“It’s entirely too early to bicker with you. I’m going back to sleep.” She settles back into the mattress and closes her eyes, but I know damn well she isn’t going back to sleep.

I slide my arms around her waist and pull her against me. She keeps her eyes closed, but I can clearly see her cheek twitch. She’s doing her absolute best to not smile, but there’s a good chance it isn’t going to last long.

“I guess if you’re gonna sleep… I’ll have to watch the Grammy announcement by myself.”

“No point in watching. We won’t be nominated… and you sure as shit won’t. You haven’t put anything out in what… ten friggen years?”

“Five, thank you.” I roll my eyes and push her hair out of her face. “And if I recall correctly… I stopped recording for some chick. I thought she would have been at least slightly appreciative of it.”

“I do appreciate it.” She nods slowly. “I really, really appreciate not having to decipher your nonsense lyrics. FutureSex/LoveSounds. Really? Do you even know what the fuck that means?”

“Look woman… we were really fuckin high… and it sounded badass.” Alright, not the best defense, but whatever.

“You are so pathetic.” She giggles and kisses my temple. “Adorable, but pathetic.”

You know… if we’d been able to do this more often, we may not have ended up where we were.

Somewhere along the line, we just stopped talking. Granted, we never really nailed the communication thing to begin with, but it got to a point where we could barely stand to look at each other, much less talk. If you ask me, that’s where all the bullshit started.

I look down at her laying next to me and can’t help but grin. Her eyes are still shut, but there’s a small smile forming on her lips. For the first time in god knows how long, I think we’re both feeling pretty optimistic about all of this. We both know it’s gonna take a lot of work, and we’re both more than willing to do it.

That’s exactly how it should be.

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

“I don’t know why you’re putting us through this.” Madison mutters and stretches her legs out in front of her. “We’re all just gonna get bummed out when we aren’t nominated.”

“So… you turn it into a drinking game.” Benny grins, not taking his eyes off of the TV. “Every time there’s a category we should be nominated for, but a bunch of shitty people are instead… you take a shot. By the time this is over, we’ll all be good and hammered, and we won’t give a shit.”

“Good plan.” Stella nods as she and Benny begin to raid the mini fridge.

I don’t know why, but I can’t help but notice the way Ryan is doing everything he can to avoid getting caught up in what’s happening right in front of him.

Honestly, I gotta give the guy some credit. Everyday he seems to do a damn good job of proving me wrong. I haven’t seen him so much as even look at alcohol or any of that other shit since he joined the band. And believe me… I’ve been watching. Especially this past week.

Call me crazy, but having him around Madison again makes me nervous as hell. Then throw in the fact that she’s really trying to get her shit together… the last thing she needs is to get caught up in a bunch of old shit.

“Nominations in the best new artist category are…”

Everyone but Madison leans forward in their seats, eyes glued to the screen.

I have to admit… this is the kind of shit I’ve been waiting for. Granted, I figured I’d be experiencing it with Keri, but that didn’t work out so great, did it?

But ya know… this is what it’s all about. Seeing all your hard work pay off. Knowing that it’s not just the fans who appreciate what you do. Because no matter what anybody says, if the critics don’t like you… you’re screwed.

And I know Madison has her mind made up that they won’t even be nominated, but I just… I can feel it. Maybe it won’t be one of the big ones, and yeah… maybe they won’t win… but they’ll at least get a nomination. Then I can spend all night telling her I was right and she was wrong. Which is honestly one of my favorite things to do.

“Wunderkind. The Hairy Pigeons. Dillion Street. The Ledge. And, The Pencils.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

The room is dead silent and I immediately look over at Madison. She’s staring at the screen, her eyes damn near bugging out of her head, her jaw almost on the floor. Can’t say I blame her, cause I sure as shit wasn’t expecting this.

“Damnit. I had my shot poured and everything.” Benny mutters, a wide grin spread across his face. “Oh well… fuck it. Now we just take a celebration shot, right?”

“Nominations for song of the year are… John Mayer for Half Of My Heart. Lady Gaga, for Bad Romance. Carrie Underwood for Undo It. The Ledge for Don’t Let Me Stop You. One Republic for Secrets.”

“Ok… who paid this guy to do this? Seriously…” Stella turns to face me and frowns. “There’s no fucking way this is real. I mean… one, ok fine. But two of the biggest goddamn Grammy’s on the planet? I’m not buying it.”

You know… I expected some cheers, some celebrating. Just… something happy. Instead, they’re all sitting around here, like they’re waiting for someone to pop on the screen and say ‘oh, just kidding!’

They roll through several other categories, and just when I think those are the only two nominations we’ll get, album of the year is announced.

And suddenly… the room is going fucking crazy. Benny’s jumping on the bed, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Stella is on the phone, calling every single person she’s ever met. Ryan is glued to his laptop. And then there’s Madison.

She’s still seated in the same spot on the couch, staring at the blank television screen. I plop down next to her and slap her leg playfully. She shoots me a sort of dazed smile and shakes her head.

“Ya alright?”

“I have a Grammy nominated album.” She says slowly. “I am fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“I’m just… surprised, I guess.” She shrugs and starts to pick at her nails. “I mean… when I couldn’t do it on my own, I kind of just… figured it wouldn’t ever happen. I spent so much time working for it and wanting it, and it didn’t happen, no matter what I did. And now… I’m just… wow. But you know… the one that’s got me just… blown away, is song of the year. I wrote what could possibly be the best song of the year and I just can’t fucking believe it.”

“You are aware that I told you this would happen… right?” I grin as she rolls her eyes. “Just say it… ‘Justin, you were right. As usual.’ You’ll feel so much better afterward, I promise.”

“Fine. This is the first and last time I will say it.” She sighs loudly and smiles at me. “Justin… you were right. For once.”

“Not what I wanted to hear. But I’ll take it.” I nod. “You know this means we’re all going out tonight.”

“Figured. I’ll go get changed.”

She strolls out of the room and I can’t help but smile as Benny, Stella and Ryan continue to celebrate.

I think it’s safe to say that this has been the best fucking week ever.

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

Sometimes, I think Madison should just buy her own damn karaoke bar.

I don’t know why, but she’s practically obsessed with this shit. And seems to thoroughly enjoy putting everyone she knows through this torture. If I wanted to listen to people with no talent butcher classics, I’d spend 24 hours a day in a car with Trace.

I love the dude… but holy shit, he can’t sing to save his life.

“You gonna sing or sit there like a bitch all night?” Stella smirks at me and takes a long sip of her beer.

“He never sings.” Madison rolls her eyes and elbows me in the side. “He’s entirely too cool to get up there and make a jackass out of himself. Which is odd really, since he does that on a daily basis.”

“Fine. You want me to sing, I’ll sing.” I mutter, snatching the book away from her.

I browse the list of songs for a few minutes, and once catches my eye almost right away. I can clearly remember hearing this on Madison’s Ipod awhile back, and it just… hit me weird, I guess. I mean… I’m not like Madison. I don’t find some type of personal meaning in every single song I hear, but this one, I did.

I slide out of our booth and head for the DJ, my name and song choice scribbled on a small sheet of paper. On the way back to my seat, I can’t help but cringe when Trace’s name is called and he damn near sprints up to the small stage.

This cannot end well.

He’s had more to drink than any of the rest of us, and with Trace….well… bad things happen when he’s that drunk.

A vaguely familiar song starts and he kind of mumbles the lyrics, paying no attention to the boo’s being shouted at him. But once the chorus starts, it’s a whole other person on that stage. He’s dancing around, gyrating and honestly… I am fucking terrified.

Sex bomb Sex bomb you're a Sex bomb
You can give it to me, when I need to come along
Sex bomb sex bomb you're my sex bomb
And baby you can turn me on.

Once again she steals away
Then she reaches out to kiss me
And how she takes my breath away
Pretending that she don't miss me

Ooh, I would bleed to love her
Ooh, bleed to love her
Ooh, I would bleed to love her

And once again she calls to me
Then she vanishes in thin air
And how she takes my breath away
Pretending that she's not there

Ooh, I would bleed to love her
Ooh, bleed to love her
Ooh, I would bleed to love her

Somebody's got to see this through
All the world is laughing at you
And somebody's got to sacrifice
If this whole thing's gonna turn out right

Ooh, I would bleed to love her
Ooh, bleed to love her
Ooh, I would bleed to love her
Bleed to love her
Bleed to love her

“I just got an interesting phone call.” Jc smiles as he enters the back of the bus and plops down next to me.

He’s smiling, so I’m taking that to mean interesting in a good way. Or he’s just major fucking with me and I am in some serious, serious trouble.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They’d like you all to perform at the Grammy’s. I went ahead and told them yes.”

“And we’re talking about this because…”

“I do like to keep you informed, ya know.” He smirks and rolls his eyes. “That… woman, is releasing a statement in the morning. Figured you should know ahead of time.”

“Right.”

I don’t know why, but Jace is none too pleased with Frankie and the work she’s doing. Personally, I don’t see the issue. She works out of the offices in L.A and Jace is here with us. Anything she does has to go through Justin first, and after the first initial incident with Lucas, she’s done everything we’ve asked.

Honestly, I think he’s just jealous. He feels like some of his responsibility’s been taken away and I guess I can’t really blame him. But still… she does all the grunt work while he gets to have fun with us all the time. I may be biased, but I think he’s definitely got the better end of the job.

“I think they’d prefer you to do one of the singles, but it’s up to you guys.”

“Actually… I’ve got something new I’ve been working on.” I grab my notebook from the floor, flip to the correct page and pass it to him. “It’s not done, but I’ve been playing around with it the last couple weeks.”

He nods slowly, his eyes scanning the page. “Looks good. You write the music yet?”

“No. I’m gonna have Ryan work on it with me.”

“Well… get on it. You’ve only got a few months.”

I nod and close the notebook quickly as Justin enters the room and throws himself into my lap.

Yeah… he definitely doesn’t need to see that song yet.

“Ok fatass… you cannot sit here. You’re gonna suffocate me.” I push on his back, but he doesn’t budge.

“You sit on me and I don’t complain.”

“I’m smaller than you!”

“And your point? You sit on me… I get to sit on you. It’s only fair.”

“Jace… help… please?” I pout and he rolls his eyes.

“I, unlike the rest of you, have actual work to do. You two have fun.” He chuckles and heads for the front of the bus.

You know what I haven’t quite been able to figure out… nobody’s asked us what’s going on. It’s like we’ve been together all along and no one seems even remotely phased by it.

Not that I want to answer the same fifty questions over and over again, but these are my friends we’re talking about here. They’re all nosey as shit, and if something’s going on… you better believe they’re going to ask about it.

But not this time. None of them has so much as even batted an eye at what’s been going on the last few weeks.

“So…I’m allowed to jump you now, right?” He smirks down at me, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

“Fraid not. There is a very strict no bus sex rule.” I nod as he rolls his eyes. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re crushing every single one of my internal organs right now, and well… you just can’t have sex like that.”

“Fine.” He sighs and slides onto the couch. “You are seriously no fun sometimes.”

“Oh I am lots of fun.” I smirk at him and he frowns. “Anyway… I think you can restrain yourself until we get to the hotel. If not… you should probably seek professional help with that.”

Sometimes, I’m amazed at my own stupidity. The last three weeks with him have been so incredibly easy. I know I can’t expect things to be like this all the time, but I think this is good for us.

And after the shit we’ve had to deal with, I think we deserve to have it easy for awhile.

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

“Wake. Up.” I demand and slap his face gently. He grunts and rolls away from me.

And he bitches about what a heavy sleeper I am.

“Justin… I’m bored.” I whine and shake him roughly. It’s almost noon. He doesn’t need to be sleeping now anyway damnit.

“Leave me alone.” He mumbles and pushes me away.

“If you don’t wake up now, I’m gonna…” I begin, quickly trying to think up something that will get his attention. “Do something really bad.”

Ok, I suck at this game. I’m aware of that.

“Madison… just sleep. Please. It’s your day off.”

“My point exactly. It’s my day off and I’m bored and you need to entertain me.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Now….get with the entertaining.”

“Yeah… lemme just hop right out of bed and do a fucking jig for you.” He mutters and finally turns to face me. “I’m tired. Go annoy Trace.”

“You really want me to ask Trace to take me on a date?”

“What?” He rubs his eyes and frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re gonna take me on a date.” I nod seriously. “Because in almost four years, you never have, and I happen to think I deserve it.”

“If you recall correctly… we haven’t been together for four years. It’s more like… two.”

“Yeah well… get dressed. We’re going out. And I better be impressed.” I slide out of bed and make my way into the bathroom.

See, sometimes being a demanding little brat gets you exactly what you want.

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

When I told Justin to take me out, I expected the full treatment. Dinner, maybe a movie… you know… normal date-ish things.

What I did not see happening was sitting in a rental car for almost two hours, being forced to eat snack crackers. He’s got money… he could have at least sprung for dinner.

“You plan on feeding me, right? Cause I’m fucking starving. And I get really mean when I don’t get food.”

“I will feed you. Eventually.” He grins, keeping his eyes on the road. “Just trust me, ok? You’re gonna dig this.”

“For your sake, I certainly hope so.”

Despite the fact that I’m stuck in a car and bored shitless, it’s kind of nice to just hang out with him. We don’t get a whole lot of time to ourselves, and we sure as hell don’t get to go anywhere. So this is a very welcome change of pace.

I’d just prefer to know where the hell I am and what he plans on doing.

After another fifteen minutes or so, Justin pulls into a large parking lot. It isn’t until he passes a sign that reads Menlo-Atherton High School, that I have any idea where we are. Granted… I have no clue why the fuck we’re here, but it’s at least nice to know a location.

He brings the car to a stop and kills the engine, quickly climbing out without a word. I follow suit and watch as he pops the trunk, pulling out a bottle of wine.

“Umm… ok… what the fuck is this?”

He slams the trunk shut and hops up on the back of the car, patting the space beside him. “This… is your date.” He grins, and uncorks the bottle.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I stare at him dumbly.

This has to be some kind of sick ass joke. There is absolutely no way he would think sitting in some random ass parking lot and getting drunk is even remotely acceptable.

I’m a simple girl. And I don’t ask for much when it comes to this kind of thing, but I do expect to be treated a certain way, and this sure as fuck ain’t it.

“You don’t know where we are.” He laughs and takes a drink straight from the bottle before passing it to me. “Name doesn’t ring a bell or anything?”

I glance back at the sign and frown. I quit school when I was sixteen, then got my GED. And I most definitely didn’t go to school in California.

I’ve never been here and there isn’t a single time in my life I can remember ever even hearing the name of this school.

“No. So… explain.” I mutter and hop up on the car beside him. He throws an arm around my shoulders and stares up at the building in front of us.

“Never thought I’d see the day where I knew something about them that you didn’t.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But… since someone clearly doesn’t know her Fleetwood Mac trivia…. This, is where Lindsey and Stevie met.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“Am not.” He laughs, taking another long swig from the bottle. “She was at this Young Life dance or something, and he was playing. She just hopped her ass up on stage and started singing with him. He called her a couple years later to join some band he was in, and the rest is history.”

Ok. He wins. Because this is so much better than dinner and movie ever would have been. I mean seriously… how many guys would actually do the research on this sort of thing?

This is exactly why I never completely gave up on him. This is why we’re still trying to straighten this out, even after we ran it into the fucking ground.

And yeah, it’s really cheesy and maybe a little odd, but the point is… he did this for me. He made sure to go above and beyond generic date guidelines and took me somewhere that actually means something.

“Thank you.” I lean over and kiss him, a wide smile breaking out across my face. “This is awesome.”

“Yeah well… I’m pretty awesome.” He shrugs and passes me the bottle.

“So… what are we gonna do now?”

“We’re gonna sit here and drink, and probably make out.” He nods. “And you’re gonna tell me you love me, and how I plan the best dates ever.”

“You are such an idiot.” I giggle and roll my eyes.

“I’ll take it.” He beams at me before pressing his lips firmly against mine.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.

I fucking hate New Years Eve.

However, the only plus side now is that I’m beyond happy to see this shit year come to an end. And thank god it’s actually ending on a positive note. Cause the way shit was going, I may have considered putting a fuckin gun to my head.

Which, if I’m being honest… doesn’t sound like such a bad idea at the moment.

When I found out we’d be in L.A for the holidays, I figured I’d get to escape all the retarded partying and bar hopping. But of course, shit never goes the way I think it will, and I am currently stuck in some shitty club, waiting for the clock to strike midnight so we can all get the fuck out of here.

“You gonna sit around and pout all fuckin night or what?” Trace mutters as he eases into the booth.

“I just want to get out of here man. I’m bored and Madison’s… I don’t even know where the hell she went.”

“Last time I saw her, she was running around with Stella.” He shrugs, taking a long sip of his beer. “I think the Grammy shit’s starting to get to em or something. They’re both hanging out entirely too close to the bar.”

Believe it or not, I’m so damn tired of hearing about the Grammy’s. It’s still more than a month away, but it’s all anybody wants to talk about.

Which I guess, I can kind of understand. But shit… give it a fuckin rest already.

I’m probably more proud of them than anyone else, and yeah… I know it’s exciting, and I know that this is like, the ultimate for Madison, but they’re worrying about it way too much. They need to take it for what it is, and just be excited.

Madison’s actually been the calmest about it, believe it or not. She’s convinced they aren’t going to win, so she’s doing her best to not buy into all the hype. And that alone speaks volumes. Two years ago, she’d have been going batshit crazy with all of this.

I had my doubts, but she’s spent the last three months proving to me that she really has grown up. She’s finally got her shit together and I know it’s all going to work out this time.

And you have know idea how fucking good it feels to finally be that sure of something. Since the day I met her, nothing’s been set in stone. Just when I thought shit was on track, something else came out of nowhere and threw everything into this huge clusterfuck.

And that’s finally over.

“There you are.” Madison grins as she and Stella stumble up to the table.

Yeah… tonights gonna be a real barrel of fuckin monkeys.

“Been here all night.”

“My point exactly. It’s almost midnight… you’re supposed to be having fun.” She pouts at me, while Stella grabs Trace’s beer and downs the rest of it in one gulp, completely ignoring his protests.

I know I’m probably being all bitter and moody for no reason, but I would much rather be at home, or even a hotel, just hanging out. But, Madison insisted everyone go out, so here we are.

“I think you’re having enough fun for the both of us.”

“Don’t be mean.” She slaps my arm and slides into the booth next to me.

As she reaches for my glass, movement on the other side of the room catches my attention. A rail thin brunette slips out of her seat and immediately lands in a heap on the floor, her friends giggling the whole time rather than help her up.

See, yet another reason to hate this holiday. Every idiot on the planet is out getting fucked up, not caring how much they humiliate themselves.

“Can we please go home?” I muster up the most pathetic look I can manage and turn to face Madison.

She nods disinterestedly, her eyes glued to the group across the room. The five of them are now huddled around the table, looking around suspiciously every few minutes. Yeah… real subtle, assholes.

“Maddie… baby… please?”

“After midnight.” She mumbles, her gaze still on the group of morons on the other side of the room.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Trace barks, snapping his fingers in her face.

“They’re doing coke over there.” She frowns and rolls her eyes. “And… I think that’s…”

Before she can even finish her sentence, the brunette glances behind her, doing a double take when her eyes sweep over our table.

There’s no fuckin way.

I mean… no. There’s just absolutely no way in hell.

“Mads… you better keep your ass in that chair.” Stella says quietly, her attention focused solely on keeping Madison calm.

“Why would I get up?” She laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t have anything to say to her.

Whether or not it’s on purpose, I can’t be sure, but she slides closer to me and I throw an arm around her shoulders, mostly in an attempt to keep her seated. Sure, she’s grown up a hell of a lot these last couple months, but I’m not a total fucking idiot. She could very well lose her shit right now, and I’m determined to keep that from happening. The last damn thing we need is some big ass scene here in the middle of a packed club.

Keri stumbles toward us, and my grip on Madison tightens. This is going to be so fucking bad.

“Well… what do we have here?” She smirks and leans on the table for support.

And that’s when I realize just how fucking awful she looks. She’s thinner than possibly healthy, her eyes are dark and sunken into the back of her head. The girl looks like absolute hell. And I know I should probably feel bad, but I don’t. Not in the least.

“Can we help you with something?” Stella barks, glaring at her.

“Hardly. I just figured I’d come say hi. You all look… well.”

“Right.” Stella snorts and shakes her fucking head.

“So Madison… heard you were nominated for a few Grammy’s.”

Great. Here we fuckin go.

It’s just a matter of time before Keri says something to totally set Madison off, and I’ll be stuck bailing her ass out of jail for the third god damn time. Great way to start off the year, huh?

“You heard right.” Madison nods slowly.

“You know… it’s funny that you were never nominated for your solo shit.”

“Oh yeah… completely hilarious.” Madison rolls her eyes, a sarcastic smile planted on her face. “But hey… I’m nominated now, so… looks like it worked out ok.”

“Right.” She snorts and shakes her head. “You aren’t going to win. Everybody knows you’ll find a way to completely tank this little band you’ve got going and you’ll be right back at square one.”

“Well… if that happens… maybe you and I can start a band, since you’re doing that pathetic, has-been train wreck thing so well.” Madison grins and I do my best to cover my laughter with a cough.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.” Keri fumes, while Madison nods, a mock serious look on her face. “Even after all this time, you still want to act like some high and mighty princess. What gives you the right, huh? You’ve always acted like you’re so much better than everyone else, and guess what Madison? You’re not. You’re still a washed up coke head.”

“You sure we’re still talking about me here?” Madison chuckles and shakes her head. “Keri… clearly, you’re fucked out of your mind… I’d suggest you go back to your friends before something bad happens.”

“Why? You gonna hit me again? Go ahead and fuckin try it.”

“You know what… we’re leaving. Go shove some more shit up your nose.” Madison damn near growls as she slides out of the booth, pulling me along with her.

She doesn’t say a word as she drags me through the club, shoving people out of her way as she goes. It isn’t until we’re outside that she lets go of my hand and starts pacing and mumbling to herself.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say. For all I know, she’s having some type of psychotic break, and saying the wrong thing will cause her to completely snap. Then I’ll end up dead and there’s just no fun in that.

“Madison…” I begin slowly. “Baby… you alright?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” She stops dead in her tracks and stares at me. “Did you see that shit in there?”

“Look… she’s a bitch… and she was high. Fuck her. We all know none of that shits true.”

“I don’t care about what she said.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I… I.. I fucking ignored her! I just walked away from what could have been a really bad ass fight, and I’m drunk… and now, that means I’m a real live grown up… and that’s fucking scary. I’m gonna have to ignore bad shit all the time from now on, and I… well, that just sucks. I don’t want to be a grown up. I want to get mad and hit bitchy girls who steal my boyfriends!”

“So… you’re upset…because… you didn’t get in a fight, and finally learned how to act like an adult?”

“Exactly!” She cries, a pout quickly forming on her face.

“You know what…” I laugh and slide an arm around her shoulders. “I think we need to get some food in you, and put you to bed.”

“Grown ups don’t get put to bed.” She mumbles as I guide her down the street.

“Seeing as how you’re just learning this grown up thing… I think it’ll be alright.”

I should be excited. Or at the very least, nervous.

I should be at one of the dozens of parties going on in various parts of the city.

Instead, I’m holed up in a hotel room, while Justin watches TV in his underwear. And believe me, that’s not nearly as attractive as it sounds.

I guess it sounds stupid, but I’m having a really hard time feeling anything about all of this. I know we aren’t going to win, so really… what’s the freakin point? Why spend all that time worrying, or getting my hopes up when I know damn well my ass is going to be in a chair for almost four hours?

And I swear, I’m not trying to be a brat. It’s just kind of happening on it’s own.

People always say what an honor it is to just be nominated. But guess what… those people are full of shit. I mean, don’t get me wrong… being nominated is great, but when you realize nothing’s going to come of it… being nominated doesn’t feel like such a great honor.

“What are you doing?” Justin mumbles before scooping a large spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Thinking.”

“About?”

“Ways to get out of going tomorrow night.” I roll my eyes as he frowns at me. “Can you like… call in sick to the Grammy’s? I mean… as long as you all go… nobody will give a shit that I’m not there, right?”

“You’re performing. You’re contractually obligated to be there. And I need a date…so… no. You can’t call in sick.”

“What if I come down with some life threatening illness within the next 24 hours?”

That’s entirely possible, you know. People get sick overnight all the time.

“What’s this about?” He sets his bowl down on the table and turns to look at me. “How many fucking years have you whined about not even being nominated? You finally get what you want, and you wanna bail? It’s just nerves… get some sleep and relax, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not nervous. I just… we aren’t going to win. So why bother?” I mumble as he rolls his eyes at me. “And don’t give me that ‘it’s good to just be nominated’ shit either. Cause it’s not. Being nominated makes you think there’s a possibility when there really isn’t, and that’s just fucking mean. I just… I don’t want to worry about it. I want it all to just go away.”

“So basically…” He smirks, and I know he’s going to be an asshole and make fun of me. “You’re worrying about not worrying.”

“When you put it like that I just sound like an idiot.”

“At least you’re a very cute, Grammy nominated idiot.” He grins and I’d love nothing more than to slap him.

“You’re an ass. And my mind’s made up… I’m not going.”

“Alright, listen…” He sighs loudly and smiles. “We’ll completely ignore the whole award thing, ok? You’re gonna get dressed up, and look all hot and shit, and we’ll make fun of everybody there, then we’ll come back here, watch movies and eat really shitty food. Deal?”

“Will ice cream be on this shitty food menu?”

“Whatever you want.” He nods and kisses me quickly. “Play your cards right and I may even let you take advantage of me. “

“Can’t take advantage of the willing, but nice try. Anyway… I’m going to bed.” I slide off of the couch and head straight for the bedroom.

I know he’s trying to make me feel better, but he’s doing a pretty shitty job, to be honest. Not once did he say he thought we’d win. Granted, I know we won’t, but it’d be nice for at least one of us to be a little positive.

Then again, if he said he thought we’d win, I would have just bitched him out for trying to get my hopes up. So I think it’s safe to say I’m going to be a pain in the ass about this, no matter what anyone says or does.

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

Red carpets are fucking stupid.

To this day, I haven’t figured out why they actually air this crap on television. It’s like ‘oh look… they’re getting out of a car! Oh my god… they can walk! Now they’re entering a building!’

It’s a freaking joke, especially when you throw the interviews in on top of it. 90 percent of the time, a reporter is going to ask you a question you aren’t allowed to answer, then they make you out to be an asshole because you wouldn’t talk to them.

Funny how they forget the fact that they’re asking really stupid/inappropriate questions.

And I’ve had about a thousand of those thrown at me since we got out of the car.

In the back of my mind, I knew being seen with Justin was a bad idea. We haven’t exactly made it public knowledge that we’re back together. And really… I don’t even know if you’d even call it being back together.

So of course, everyone wants to know what our being seen together means.

Were neither of us able to find a date? Are we back together? Are we just here as friends? Are we the reason Lucas left the band?

Blah, blah, fuckin blah.

I just want to get inside, plant my ass in a seat, and stay there until we’re set to perform. Is that really too much to ask?

“You could at least smile, ya know.” Justin mutters once we finish our final interview and head inside.

“Or… I could act like a total brat until you agree to let me go home.” He shakes his head in response and we head for our seats in silence.

I know I’m going about this the wrong way, but I can’t help it. I just don’t see the point in faking happiness when I’d much rather be in a hotel room in my pajamas.

People are milling about the theater, smiling and shaking hands, making plans for business meetings. The same crap you see at these kind of things all the time. And the sad part is, tomorrow… none of what they’ve promised to each other will actually happen.

Stella, Benny, Ryan, Jc and Trace finally arrive and plop down in their seats, chattering excitedly to one another. I’m glad they’re all this excited, but I’m really starting to feel like a huge dick for being such a Debbie Downer about the whole thing.

So, I’m going to do my absolute best to do what Justin told me.

I’m going to ignore all of the bullshit, and try to just have fun.

It doesn’t take long before the show begins, and some of the biggest names in the music and film industry are planted in their seats, watching intently.

Everything turns into a blur, and the next thing I know, I’m being ushered backstage and told to change. Once I exit the dressing room, my guitar is shoved into my hands and I’m guided toward the stage, Stella, Benny and Ryan behind me the whole way.

Remember when I said I wasn’t nervous?

Well, I must have forgotten about this part. My hands are shaking and sweaty, and I have a very strong urge to throw up in the nearest garbage can. Justin appears beside me a minute later, and rather than calm me down like I’m sure he thinks he’s doing, I just feel worse.

And I shouldn’t feel like this. I’ve done this dozens of times, but for reasons I will never understand, this time… it’s different.

“You’re gonna be fine. And I’ll be right here when you’re done.” He smiles and kisses my forehead just as we’re told to take our places.

People are smiling and clapping along, and I can’t help but relax a little.

Sometimes I don’t know why I let my mind wander so damn much. It does nothing but cause trouble and I spend entirely too much time freaking out.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see a wide grin break out across Benny’s face, and that’s when it hits me.

Even though we aren’t going to win shit here tonight, we’re proving that we deserve it.

And that’s what really matters.

It’s been rough the whole way for us, but we made it here. We pushed ourselves, despite everything that happened, and showed the whole fuckin world what we’re capable of.

The last note echoes throughout the theater, and suddenly, people are on their feet.

A motherfucking standing ovation.

We file offstage, and as promised, Justin is standing right there. I can’t honestly remember the last time I saw him smile like that. And I’m sure I have the same exact look on my face.

“That was fucking amazing!” He shouts excitedly as I wrap my arms around his neck.

I can’t even think straight right now. All I know is, I just did one of the most amazing, exciting and perfect things I’ve ever done, and absolutely nothing is going to top it, ever.

Knowing that we just went out there and impressed the hell out of almost the entire music community tops everything.

“I know we’re gonna lose, and I’m totally fine with that… I just want to go back to the hotel and do lots of dirty things to you right now.” I giggle when he tenses up. “That was… oh my fucking god… I can’t believe it went so well!”

“Madison… st-stop.” He mumbles, pushing me away from him.

“Umm… excuse me?”

“You gotta… you have to go back out there… they… you just… holy fucking shit!” He’s practically bouncing in place and I’m starting to get really, really confused.

Stella grabs me by the arm and pulls me away from him, and before I realize what’s even happened, I’m standing in front of a podium, staring at hundreds of curious faces while a very heavy, gold gramophone is placed in my hands.

Oh. My. God.

“Holy shit…” I breathe and stare at the statue in my hand. “Oh my god.. I just… I just said shit on live national television. And I just did it again…. They’ll never let me come back here.” I laugh stupidly at myself and shake my head.

I have to calm down for at least the next minute, and somehow manage to get through this.

“I can’t… this is amazing.” I smile, not once taking my eyes off of my Grammy. “I’ve wanted one of these since I was two years old, and I swear to god… I never thought it’d happen. But… I am so, so, so happy I did this with the three people standing behind me. And Lucas… can’t forget Lucas. I just umm… we’ve been working so damn hard this past year, and I can’t thank you all enough for letting us know it paid off. And there’s a million people I’m supposed to thank… and that would take entirely too long, and I’m pretty sure they’re gonna have to drag me off of here anyway, but.. Oh my god… Justin… Jc… Trace, Chelsea, our families and friends… every single person who bought our album or came to a show. And I just… thank you.”

“Since the ‘get the hell off the stage’ music isn’t playing yet, I just want to say one thing real quick.” Benny grins as I step away from the podium. “I also need to thank Trace. He’s our resident sexbomb and my duet partner. But seriously.. Thanks man.”

We’re ushered offstage once again, and I take a deep breath.

This shit is unbelievable.

"Cuckoo"- Lissie

Alright, I’m going to be perfectly honest and hope this somehow doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

I’ll admit it… I was a little skeptical about this Grammy stuff. And no, that doesn’t mean I doubt Madison or the bands talent. I just know how this shit usually goes down. Chalk it up to life experience.

I knew damn well they had Best New Artist in the fuckin bag, but for some reason, I was still surprised as all hell to actually hear their name called. I also knew that they had a pretty decent shot at Record Of The Year, mostly because Don’t Let Me Stop You has been in very heavy rotation since we shipped it out to almost every station in the country.

So yeah… after the best new artist win, I figured they’d prolly get it. But, I wasn’t at all surprised when Lady Gaga got up and accepted the award.

Honestly, I think I was more shocked by her outfit and incoherent acceptance speech. Crazy bitch was using a hubcap for a hat or some shit. I don’t get it man.

Anyway… back to the matter at hand.

The one that seemed the least likely was album of the year. They were up against some pretty big shit, and everybody knows that award rarely ever goes to the right person. Did they deserve it? Hell yes. Did I think they’d win it? Of course not. I fully expected to watch them accept this loss as gracefully as they had the first.

When their name was called, there was a lot of jumping around, screaming and I’m pretty sure there was some crying involved too.

Even now, watching them each step up to the podium and express their thanks, I still can’t fucking believe it. So much work went into making all of this happen and it just… it doesn’t even seem real.

I’ve seen Madison go through so much these last few years, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of her. Hell… what just happened makes even the shit I had to go through worth it.

And yeah, I’ll admit that I have no idea where we’ll be in a year… for all I know, we could fall right back into our same old shit. But, I think this a pretty fuckin good start.

When you really think about it, we were doomed for failure from the very beginning. We never had a choice in any of what was happening to us, of course it all feel apart. But now… we did this on our own. We picked the pieces up and put this shit back together. And maybe that’s why I feel so good about it.

The four of them finally file off stage and head in my direction, clutching their Grammy’s and grinning from ear to ear. Stella, Ryan and Benny walk straight past me without so much as a glance, but Madison stops in front of me, her eyes glued to the award in her hands.

“Two outta three ain’t bad, huh?” I crack, but don’t get even a smile.

“You know…” She begins slowly. “I’m never going to be just Madison Fox again. I’m Grammy Winner Madison Fox now, and that’s… that’s a lot of fucking pressure.”

Why am I not surprised?

Only Madison could over think this instead of celebrate. Next, she’ll go into a rant about how the band will never top the first album, people will forget about them, then they’ll fade into obscurity.

“So you finally win your Grammy’s and you’re still not happy? Woman… there’s just no pleasing you, is there?”

A small smile appears on her face and she rolls her eyes. “Are you kidding? I’m thrilled… I just….don’t know. I don’t know how we’ll top this, and people are going to expect things now, and we’re-”

“Ok… here’s what’s going to happen… you’re gonna stop talking and go do your press. Then we’re gonna go to the after party and have fun. Then we’ll go back to the hotel and sleep. A lot.”

“You promised me shitty food, ice cream and sex.” She pouts and all I can do is shake my head.

“That was before you won. Now… press.” I grab her hand, but she doesn’t budge.

“Hey Jus…” I turn to face her and she smiles. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For kicking me in the ass when I needed it, for putting up with me… just… thank you.”

“You forgot to mention getting rid of Lucas, being the best boyfriend-slash-boss ever, and pissing you off enough to write kick ass songs about it.”

“Nice to see the ego’s still in check.” She mutters as we head for the press room.

She’s pulled away from me in a matter of seconds and I can’t help but smile. Questions are being shouted at them from every direction, but Jace and Frankie seem to do a damn good job of avoiding the inappropriate ones.

“So, how long you gonna do this stupidly happy thing, cause I gotta tell you man… it makes ya look like a fuckin girl.” Trace grins and gives me a slight shove when he appears at my side.

“As long as I fuckin can.”

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

I know this is going to sound really fuckin lame, but I’ve gotta say it… everything that’s happened tonight is ten times better than when I got to do this shit on my own. I honestly don’t remember ever seeing Madison this happy, and knowing I had a hand in it, feels amazing.

And maybe it sounds a little selfish, but damnit… we deserve this. We’ve been through a lot of shit these last few years, and it’s about god damn time we had something to celebrate.

“You gonna sit in the corner all night, or party with me?” Madison grins as she slides into the booth and places a beer in front of me, then takes a sip of her own.

“Shouldn’t you be schmoozing or something?”

She scrunches up her nose and shakes her head quickly. “I’m kind of over the mutual admiration thing for the night, I think. Besides… P. Diddy just told me he thinks I’m a badass, so my Grammy experience is officially complete.”

“Clearly Diddy doesn’t know you very well, because badass, you are not.” I laugh as she pouts at me and rolls her eyes.

You know, it kind of amazes me how easy it’s been to fall back into the way we used to be. There were times where I was so damn sure it’d never be like this again. I spent so much time being angry, and now… I almost can’t remember why.

I know we aren’t perfect, and I know we won’t ever be, but I feel like that’s why it works. We’re both a little insane and fucked up, and maybe that’s why we fit so well.

For those days we felt like a mistake
Those times when loves what you hate
Somehow
We keep marching on

“Can I ask you something?” She looks around, before settling her gaze on me.

“No Madison… you cannot bring any of your Grammy’s to bed. I refuse to sleep with one of those god damn statues in my bed.”

“Oh hardy fuckin har har.” She giggles and slaps my arm. “No, I’m serious… I need to ask you something. And I need you to tell me the truth.”

Ok, I’m smart enough to know that this is a loaded question.

If I agree to be honest, I’m setting myself up for some major shit. But, if I don’t agree… well… I’m sure you can guess what’ll happen then.

Women are fuckin sneaky like that.

“Depends on your question.”

“You love me, right?” She asks quietly, suddenly very interested in the napkin on the table in front of her. “I mean… I’m it, right? And we’re gonna keep going the way we are now… and everything’s gonna be good from now on?”

“Madison…” I sigh, and she looks scared shitless. “Baby…”

“If you don’t… just say it. It’s fine. I just… I need to know the truth. Because the past couple months have been amazing and I love you, and I don’t-”

For those nights when I couldn’t be there
I’ve made it harder to know that you know
That somehow
We’ll keep moving on

My mouth is on hers before she can finish her sentence and I immediately feel her relax against me.

I honestly don’t even know why she feels like she needs to ask. I mean… I’d like to think the answer is pretty damn obvious.

She pulls away from me, and looks around again. Her left hand is in a fist, and for a split second I have visions of her decking me. Instead, she unclenches her fist and holds her palm out in front of me.

In the dim lighting of the club, I can just barely make out the words scribbled across her palm, in her unmistakable large, loopy handwriting.

I look up at her wide eyed, and she bites down on her lip.

Holy shit.

For those doubts that swirl all around us
For those lives that tear at the seams
We know
We’re not what we’ve seen

For this dance we’ll move with each other
There ain’t no other step than one foot
Right in front of the other

I look down at her hand again, and there’s no denying it. The longer I stare at it, the clearer the words “Marry Me?” become.

“What… I… now?”

She laughs loudly and nods. “Vegas is only about a four hour drive. I figure we can get there by… seven a.m?”

She’s fucking crazy. That’s about the only way to sum this up. Madison Fox is off her god damn rocker. But damnit if I don’t love her for it.

“You’re serious? Cause if I recall correctly… you’re the one who wanted a dress, and a cake, and guests and all that other happy horse shit.”

“I don’t need all of that.” She says simply and shrugs. “And this just… fits, you know? It’s like… coming full circle, or some shit. So….”

We’ll have the days we break
And we’ll have the scars to prove it
We’ll have the bonds that we save
But we’ll have the heart not to lose it

For all of the times we’ve stopped
For all of the things I’m not

We put one foot in front of the other
We move like we ain’t got no other

She looks so damn nervous, and I can’t help but laugh. She knows damn well I’m gonna say yes. I don’t know what she’s so freaked out about.

“You know… proposals typically involve someone getting down on one knee… a ring…” Her eyes narrow and I shrug. “Just sayin…:

“So help me god… if you make me get down on my knees…”

“We gonna sit here and argue, or get on the road woman?” I laugh as she finally slides out of her seat, and laces her fingers through mine.

She’s right.

This just… fits.

There’s so many wars we fought
There’s so many things we’re not
But with what we have
I promise you that
We’re marching on

"Marching On"- OneRepublic

“What the shit is this?”

“Some countdown show VH1 did. It’s called no-hit wonders. It’s about people who were all hyped up to be big shit, then fell on their faces. Keri was number four, by the way.” I can’t help but smirk when he rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Speaking of which… you will never believe this dream I had last night. So… I’m out walking around the city, right… and I run into her. Not like, literally… but, you know. Anyway… she starts her same old song and dance. ‘Justin’s too good for you, I’m more talented than, blah blah blah.’ Then, she goes to leave and steps off the curb, and… BAM, this bus just plows right into her. And this crazy British woman gets off the bus and goes, ‘oh well, devil whore had it coming’ and walks away. Then I woke up.” I shrug as he stares at me, completely dumbfounded.

“Ok… one… I don’t care about this stupid show. Two… I’m pretty sure you belong in a mental institution and I won’t be at all surprised when you try to murder me in my sleep. Three, and this is why I asked in the first fucking place… why are you moving my shit?”

I look at the shelf in front of me and shrug. “Don’t be such a baby. There’s plenty of room for them. Besides, you have like… a hundred. I only have two, therefore my Grammy’s are more special than yours. Remember that… fewer equals better.”

“I’m having you committed. I’m not even remotely kidding.”

“No you won’t. For two reasons… one, there won’t be anybody to sleep with you.” I giggle as he shakes his head. “Two… you kinda love me and stuff.”

“Yeah… guess I do.” He grins and shakes his head.

So, I’m guessing you want to hear all about mine and Justin’s second trip to Vegas, right?

Well, sorry to disappoint you, but it really wasn’t too exciting. Once we left the party on Grammy night, we got Justin’s rental car, and headed straight for Vegas.

As soon as we got into town, we found the first wedding chapel we could, and did the deed.

To this day, I only have a few vague memories of the first go round, but I’m able to remember every detail of this time. Including the awful Elvis impersonator who presided over the wedding.

I know most girls spend their entire lives dreaming of their wedding, and how perfect they plan for it to be. Call me crazy, but… even after dreaming about what my wedding could have been, I was surprisingly content with it being in a crappy chapel in Vegas, surrounded by gaudy, pink decorations.

Unfortunately, as with most things in my life, the media managed to track us down. Which is why the current cover of People Magazine is a photo of Justin and I leave the chapel, hand in hand, looking about as giddy as humanly possible. I know it’s beyond corny, but I bought a copy, had it framed and it now hangs in the living room.

After all, it’s the only wedding picture I’m gonna have, may as well make the most of it.

Once we got back to L.A, got our marriage license, filed the proper paper work and exchanged decent rings (Justin, being the completely nerdy romantic he refuses to admit he is, had both of our rings inscribed with one simple phrase, “the chain will keep us together“, and yes, I was a total puddle of mush after I saw it.), I moved back in with Justin and we had a big ass reception for our friends and family.

I was under the delusion that they’d all be happy as hell that we finally had our shit together enough to make this decision, but no such luck.

Turns out one secret wedding, while not totally appreciated, is forgivable. But a second, to the same man, no less? That would be a big fat fucking no.

My parents were livid when I called them. Justin’s mother demanded we organize a proper wedding in a church, and then there were our friends. All of whom refused to speak to us for several days.

Maybe it was a little selfish on our parts to take off the way we did, but it just… felt right. So much of our lives are shared with the people closest to us, as well as the rest of the world, and it was fucking amazing to have just this one thing to ourselves. I feel like it made it that much more special. And yes, I’m aware of just how cheesy that sounds.

It’s only been a couple of weeks and we’re still adjusting, but I feel really good about all of this, like we somehow managed to finally get it right. It took both of us so damn long to realize we aren’t perfect and never will be, but I feel like that’s what we needed to see.

We both had all these ideas of how we thought this should work and when we didn’t live up to those ideas, we freaked out.

I’ll be the first to admit how stupid and selfish we both were, and I’m sure there’s a thousand other derogatory terms you could stack on top of those, but maybe all the time we spent running this thing into the ground is going to help us in the long run. Now we know exactly what not to do.

“You done moving my shit around yet? I was kind of hoping I’d get to attack you at some point today.” Justin sighs as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder.

“I’m not sure… I kind of wanted to re-organize the kitchen. I can’t find any damn thing in there. I swear… I don’t know how the hell you live in this mess.”

Ok yes… I’ve been doing the typical girl thing the last week or so, and rearranging everything in the house to my liking. Granted, Justin isn’t too pleased about some of the changes, but he’s stuck with me now, and he’s just gonna have to deal.

“The kitchen is fine.” He mumbles. I can’t see him, but I’m fairly certain he’s pouting. “I, however, am not. This being married stuff means you’re supposed to pay extra attention to me.”

“And if this was the first time we were married, maybe I would.” I giggle and roll my eyes. “I don’t think the normal newlywed rules apply to us baby.”

“Woman… the word ‘normal’ doesn’t even apply to us.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But… I kinda like us.”

“I kinda like us too.” I grin as he laces his fingers through mine and pulls me up the stairs.

I know we’re always going to be kind of a mess. And I’m perfectly happy with that. Every single thing we had to go through to get here, was more than worth it, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time.

Clean and easy isn’t what makes life interesting, now is it?