I knock on her door anxiously waiting for her to open it and get this thing started. After what feels like a lifetime, she opens the door and leans against it, smirking, “Come on in.”

I step in the house but manage to brush up against her and become fully aware that she is not wearing a bra. She shuts the door and I push her against it, devouring her mouth. She was never content to not be in control of the situation so she pushes me back, putting her knee in my crouch, “Couch, floor or bed?”

I pant and try to regulate my breathing in order to answer her. All three suggestions sound good but after having my ass kicked by Marty, who demanded I get the routine down pat before I was allowed to leave for my little booty call, I could use something soft, “Bed.”

She doesn’t even wait for me as she removes her knee and starts walking up the stairs in those leather boots I love so much. Reminds me of the first time we ever hooked up. She was drinking a martini at this elite bar when I walked up to her and asked if I could buy her another one. She turned around, pressed her body up against me in that tight, v neck red dress with those boots and whispered in my ear, “You could do a lot more than that.”

Her bedroom wreaks of simplicity, though she is far from it. Black comforter, white walls and black and white photographs of the city nailed into place. Her oil paintings on easels are set up by the window awaiting inspiration. She has the most beautiful view of New York I’ve ever seen. But then again, it is the penthouse. I would expect nothing less from her.

I pull my shirt off and throw it to the side, picking her up and tossing her onto the bed as she emits a small groan, wriggling out of her skirt. I pull each boot off and connect my lips to her leg, going up until I reach her panties and pull them off with my teeth. She loves the rough stuff. Nothing pretty, nothing soft, nothing romantic and most of all, nothing emotional.

She pulls of her shirt and I rid myself of the last constricting piece of clothing, lying on top of her and I position myself and invade her. The friction between our bodies is what I love the most when we have sex. Her skin becomes hot and the more she rubs against me the harder I get. Her silk nails dig into my back and I’m sure after this my back will look like I got into a fight with a cat. No, I went to bed with a tiger.

I thrust harder as she moans for more, “Fuck me.”

My hips move faster and I thank Marty for the ability to do things in bed I couldn’t two years ago. I owe that guy a raise. Suddenly she pushes me back and I slam onto the bed in shock. She groans and hops on me, riding me so fiercely it makes me wonder how much experience she’s had. Not that I ever thought she wasn’t… practicing her craft but this is like something out of a movie that you watch and end up dreaming about. Halle Berry has nothing over her.

A few more thrusts into her and I collapse, going limp underneath her as she collapses on top of me, rolling right off. Never one to relish in the moment, she opens the bedside table and retrieves a pack of cigarettes. She snaps the lighter until fire comes out and puts it to the cigarette, puffing away.

“Those things will kill you,” I say.

“You haven’t even opened your eyes. How the hell can you smell the smoke already?”

I open my eyes, “Because I know you. We have never had sex and not had you light up afterwards.”

She lets a corner of her mouth turn up, “Habit. The first guy I was ever with used to smoke a cigarette right after we had sex. I guess I just picked it up somewhere along the way. Besides, who are you to question me when someone was doing pot last time I caught you at my daddy’s house.”

She has a point though I would never admit it out loud. That girl has won one too many battles for me to admit I’m wrong. I watch her close her eyes and blow the deadly smoke out her nose. I take the cigarette from her hand and put it out in the ash tray beside her, “You don’t want lung disease.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever you say.”

My hand goes between her legs and sits on her thigh for a few minutes before she pushes it off. Her number one rule is apparently still intact. No affection. There is no touching her for any reason except for sex. She sits up and slips out of bed, letting the sheets puddle at her feet. One thing I will give her is she was never self conscious about her body. Not that she has a reason to, it’s been kept up. Her daddy would have stood for nothing less from his only daughter. He raised a JonBenet.

Faster than I can blink, her clothes are returned to her body as she brushes her long blonde hair to make it shine. She looks back at me through the mirror and that’s my cue to get dressed and be on my way. I reluctantly find my clothes and put them on, watching her reapply her lipstick that came off during our tryst. She can’t even put on lipstick without giving off the image of sex kitten.

“What?” she asks having apparently noticed I was staring at her.

“Nothing,” I lie.

She walks out of the bathroom and pulls on her boots, looking like the last half hour didn’t happen. I stand up and look her over, “You got plans?”

She sighs, “You mean do I have plans and yes, I have to go meet Tim.”

“You’re still seeing him?”

She quickly makes the bed and every sign that I was there is erased as fast as one changes the channel on the TV, “As much as I’m still seeing you.”

I nod, “Well I guess that’s it then,” I respond, turning around to put my shirt on. The second I turn my back I feel her fingertips on her back, “Did I do that?”

I don’t move as she runs her fingers down the scratches, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I turn around slowly, “It’s okay.” These are the moments I live for. They are so infrequent that I know not to expect it but hope to God that it might me that blue moon. It’s part of the reason that I stick around like a whipped pussy.

She immediately pulls away and shuts down as she brushes her moment of sincerity away like a wisp of fog, “I have to go.”

I walk down the stairs with her and follow her out the door. I feel like a fucking dog following after her like this. She clicks the remote on her car that unlocks it, “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Yeah,” I call after her.

She opens the door and slides in. I watch her and right before she closes the door I call out to her, “Meg?”

She lifts her head up and raises her eyebrows, “What?”

I stutter for a minute, “If you need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call.”

She laughs cynically, “Yeah, if I ever get lonely I’ll call.”

I take a swig of my third bottle of champagne. I’m about as drunk as it gets, though I’m sure I could do far more before I was to black out. That has never been my style though. I drink just enough to make everything a little fuzzy and a lot happier. Cigarettes are my comfort, drinking my companion. Someone who I don’t know interrupts my conversation with myself, “Megan your father is here.”

I nod at the woman and gather my things up. I struggle to find my balance between the alcohol and four inch heels that I’m balancing on. Beauty is pain. I take a deep breath, straiten my barely there dress and walk out of my old bedroom and down the marble stairs to the party. I can see daddy standing there among the rich and famous, getting his ass kissed for no other reason than he owns them. All of them.

My father, the Caltech Humanities and Science major ironically used his degree to get his foot in the door to a huge law firm, Hanson & Currie. Tom Hanson, the socialite whore of the business and then there is my father, Daniel Currie. Not only does daddy have his business, but he also owns the record company named after him, Currie records. I’m really not sure as to which circumstance there might be a celebration but I learned to stop asking a long time ago.

I smile as I enter the room filled with people. My father looks over and holds his hand out to me and I place mine in his as he pulls me over to him, “And you remember my daughter Megan.”

I look the man over and have absolutely no idea who this guy is. Not that it surprises me, they all look the same to me. Armani suit, Rolex watch, gray hair and a wandering eye.

The man turns to me, “Yes how are you Megan?”

“Fine,” I lie. Telling anyone the truth has become a distant memory. I don’t even bother to hesitate. For fucking sake I lie about things I don’t even give a damn about. Things that don’t even matter.

“I heard that you are running your own art gallery.”

I nod, “Yeah, it’s going well.”

“And I heard your brother is helping you run it?”

I smirk, “He does all the numbers for me. He went to Caltech for mathematics so I out him to use. Though he is in California right now so I’m on my own for the next few weeks.”

The man looks to my father, “Impressive. Your son has followed in your footsteps.”

Dad laughs, “Yes he did. I wanted Megan to go there as well but she was insistent that NYU was her calling. She likes to dabble in art and painting. It’s her little hobbie.”

Yeah, that’s it. A little hobby. Because all that time I spent killing myself at that school to improve on my work was only a little hobby.

“Nothing wrong with that,” the man says.

“No there’s not,” dad remarks, obviously seeing he’s not going to win this battle, “Megan sweetheart why don’t you go greet some of the other guests.”

“Nice seeing you again,” I say, making my way to the people that are actual in my age range. The music pounds and I put my hand on Adam’s shoulder, “Hey.”

Adam turns around, “Hey, we were just talking about you.”

I push my shoulders back, making sure I’m showing everything off, “I hope it’s all good.”

One of the guys standing around leans in and kisses me, “Only good things.”

I giggle slightly and lick my lips, “That’s good to know.”

I’m instantly surrounded by a group of guys who have done far little than to have been born into privilege. Some, I’ll give then have been a success without their parents and some are legitimate artists who are in the midst of recording. But they all want one thing from me. Two very different sets of men with the same goal. The first group want to see if all those rumors are true and the second are those who already know and want more. Sex is the bottom line.

Adam pushes me through the people to outside the house and up against the shingles. It’s not the most comfortable place to be grinded against but I’ve had worse. He spreads my legs open and places his hand up my dress and rests it on my thigh, rubbing it. I just roll with it until a voice causes both Adam and I to jump, “She’s not yours tonight.”

I remain emotionless as Adam pulls away from me and turns around, “Do you fucking mind?”

Justin doesn’t even make eye contact with him rather choosing to stare at me, “Yeah I do so why don’t you just get out of here.”

I give Adam a push, “Call me later. We’ll set something up and make it work around my schedule.”

He sighs and removes his hand, “Fine, I’ll see you later,” he responds, sulking off into the shadows and back into the house. Justin walks over to me and kisses me roughly, picking me up off my feet before wrapping them around his waist, “Did you forget about me?”

I lean back against the house instead of hanging on him the way most women do. I refuse to be needy around him. He just takes it as a compliment, “No.”

He licks his lips, “Than what was with him?”

I shrug, “I was keeping myself occupied.”

“I thought that was what I was for. Isn’t tonight when you scheduled me in?” he mocks, setting me back on the ground.

“If you don’t like it leave. I’m positive I could find some else to take your spot for tonight,” I reply, leaning over to whisper in his ear although I know no one else is around to hear, “I keep a waiting list you know.”

“Am I at the top?”

“Maybe,” I reply coolly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from my garter. I found it’s better than having a purse because I occasionally have a nicotine craving but when I get them, they’re bad. I find I need them more when he’s around than other guys I’ve been with in the past.

I watch him make a disgusted face at the incessant tapping of the pack until one little piece of sanity falls out and I light up, blowing smoke in his face, “Get over it.”

His lip turns up a little and I assume that means he’s rethinking tonight. I go through the guys here in my head as to who would be the second best fuck here tonight, Adam or Spencer, the new bad boy to enter our little bubble. I’m amazed but try not to convey it though my face as Justin grabs my hand and drags me to his car, practically throwing me into the passenger side.

I lean back as my head hits the back of the seat. I breathe in the scent of leather and look around to see if it’s a new car on never used. The must have over a dozen vehicles because as long as we have been “entertaining” each other I have never ridden in one of his cars twice. It makes it a real pain in the ass to know whether he’s at the same club or party as I am because of it. I like to know what I’m walking into before I step through the doorway.

Justin flips the air conditioner on and the breeze blows my blonde hair back. We sit in silence until he pulls into his driveway and we go inside his house. I look around at inside as it still has that barely lived in feel to it. Justin turns to me, “You want a drink first?”

I slip my heels off, tossing them to the side, “I’m a sure thing, you don’t need to do the whole seduction bit.”

He sighs, going into his liquor cabinet and producing a bottle of vodka, “Suit yourself.”

I watch him ignore me as he stares out the French doors to a lot of nothing. No neighbors or a trace of humanity for about a mile. That’s the way he likes it, secluded. I hate it when he’s got me standing there and he spaces off. It doesn’t work like that in my world.

I unzip the side of my dress and step out of it, kicking it to the side. I watch him watch me in the reflection of the window mesmerized. I smirk and walk over to him, aggressively tugging the jeans from his hips along with his boxers. He looks back to me in appreciation and puts the bottle down, unclasping my bra. I rip the buttons off his shirt as the go flying in every direction and slide my hands down his bear chest, “Did you miss me?”

“You know I did. Why do you bother to ask?”

I hook my fingers along the sides of my panties and push them off my body, “Let’s do this.”

He grabs the back of my head and pulls it to his, covering my mouth with his. I pull away and back up to his dining room table, devilishly hoping up on it, spreading my legs. It’s my signature move that has become my calling card, “What are you waiting for?”

________________________________________________________________________

I wake up on his bedroom floor and rub my eyes, scanning the room for some sort clock that will tell me how late I am getting up. I find the clock and realize I should have been out the door an hour ago but money talks and I know my ride will still be there when I get out. I go downstairs leaving Justin in his bedroom to sleep off last night and find my clothes, putting them on.

I search for my garter and find it flung onto the floor and slip it on. A voice interrupts the silence, “Have fun?”

I turn around to see Trace in the doorway grinning at me like the Cheshire Cat. I smile as I pull down my dress, “Yeah I did.”

“Live it up baby, it won’t last forever.”

I ruffle my hair a little as I fix it in the mirror, “That’s my motto.”

“Justin upstairs?” he questions, drinking the orange juice in his hand.

“He’s sleeping. Tell him I said goodbye.”

“Will do.”

I pull on my heels and lean over, kissing Trace on the mouth, “Call me for a good time.”

“Jenny, what number should I use? 867-5309?”

I turn around and smile, “Ask Justin.”

With that, I walk out the door and to my awaiting taxi.

________________________________________________________________________

I wake up to find her missing body next to me. I sigh and roll over onto my back in frustration. Not that I had any expectations that she would still be here but just the disappointment that she’s not can set off my whole day. I get up and pull on some clothes, heading downstairs to find Trace sitting at the kitchen table, “Morning.”

“Hey, heard you had fun last night.”

I turn to him, “What makes you say that?”

He lets a smile creep on to his face, “I saw the sex kitten as she was leaving this morning.”

I look at him, “You saw Meg?”

Trace nods, “Yeah, she’s a firecracker that one.”

“Did she say anything about me?”

Trace thinks about it for a minute, “Just to tell you goodbye.”

I nod slowly and sit down across from him. He hands me the sports section of the paper, “Here read this. I don’t know what you expect from Megan Currie. She screws like a guy.”

I shrug and take the paper, “I don’t know. I just thought maybe she would have stuck around this morning.”

Trace chuckles, “Again, it’s Megan Currie. She does her thing and moves on. That’s why guys like her. No commitment on either end.”

“There is a human being under there somewhere. She has her moments.”

Trace rolls his eyes, “Well you are the only one who sees it because the rest of us are just waiting for our number to be called to get her on her back.”

I toss the paper to the side, “She’d have you on your back and done with you before you realized what was going on.”

He laughs, “You think so huh?”

“I know so.”

The couch that I have spent the last few months lying on seems to get more uncomfortable every time I lay on it. The cushioning seems to be diminishing and at the price that I pay, I would expect more. But then again, it could just be that I’m growing tired of this whole charade and I’m looking for any excuse to complain. After all, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?

My therapist looks at me lustfully as she comes in and shuts the door, pulling her hair from her bun and whishing it around like a second rate playboy model, “I scheduled you for an hour today.”

She sits on my crotch and swings her legs in either side of me sides, rubbing herself against me roughly, “Did you miss me?”

I take it as a rhetorical question as she undoes my shirt and I close my eyes, lying back against the couch. That phrase has only been attractive when coming from another mouth. It’s the only person worth answering. I don’t know if I’m capable of missing anyone since I’ve never had a longing for anyone before, but I do know that if dreaming of one girl constantly constitutes missing, I have a severe case of it. I’m not sure if it’s the chase that makes me want her so badly or the fact that I just have become so absorbed in her that when she’s not with me, I don’t know what to do with myself. The good news for me is that I have a very active imagination and have the ability to imagine a completely different person than the one going down on me.

I was convinced to go to therapy by my mother who thought it would be good for me to talk everything out and get it out in the open. Someone suggested Dr. Philips and mom set up the appointment. I certainly wasn’t happy about the whole thing so during the second session when she hiked up her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse, I didn’t see a reason to complain. After all, it was a lot better than having to explain why I do what I do and have someone translate it to a deeper meaning.

There is no deeper meaning for the thing I do, I’m just fucked up. Though in comparison to Meg, maybe I’m normal. What the hell is normal anyway? Some fucking billboard you see while driving for no other reason than there is nothing else to look at but that, showing a mother, father and their two point five kids? I don’t think so. Maybe that’s why Megan is so fucked up. Because that billboard is her life. A big lie to cover up the shit that her family goes to extremes to hide. Her mother is a debutant who got married way too young, popped out a couple of kids and pawned them off on their nanny. Daddy isn’t so great either. He probably couldn’t tell me what collar her eyes are. Green. Deep see green.

I wonder as Dr. Philips attaches herself to my mouth if she’s sleeping with anyone else of her clientele or if I’m just special. I’m pretty sure though that she’s crossing some sort of moral line but she’s still in business and certainly not the worst lay I’ve ever had.

She groans and goes limp, landing against me as she tries to regain her breathe, “That was great.”

All I know is that if she doesn’t get off me in a minute I’m going to toss her off. It makes my skin crawl to have her on top of me, “So… I’ll see you next week.”

Finally she hops off me and dresses herself, “We have ten minutes left so just to summarize, how are you feeling?”

Oh no, I’m not playing that game, “Just fine.”

“Anything you want to get off your chest?”

I roll my eyes at her stupidity. Yes I just had sex and now I’m going to tell her how my mother never hugged me enough or some shit like that and we can play doctor, “No. Should I?”

She ignores me which I think is against the rules in this business, “Any relationship problems?” she pries.

“Nothing you can help me with,” I say sarcastically.

“Girl problems?” she says a little too sweetly.

I stand up and button up my shirt, “What do you do when the girl you want want’s nothing more than a roll in the sack?”

She tenses up and suddenly I realize she doesn’t like hearing about other women. The thought makes me chuckle lightly. Like were in some kind of fucking relationship or something. I wish Meg would get jealous like that. Every time I mention another woman she just nods. It’s not like she ever really listens to me anyway. Which reminds me that Dr. Philips is dishing out advice and I’ve tuned her out so I snap back to attention, “You forget her and move on to someone who’s willing to fulfill your needs.”

I start to feel nauseous and put my hand on the door, “Thanks for the advice, I’ll see you.”

“If you need me, call baby.”

Suddenly I realize how ridiculous I must have sounded to Meg that morning. I practically run out of the building and prepare myself for a very big night, my release party for Jordan.

________________________________________________________________________

I slither into a skin tight dress and zip up the material until the point I can’t breathe. Alexandra looks me over from head to toe, “You look good.”

“Thanks,” I say, spraying some perfume onto my wrist and rubbing them together. Alex comes up behind me and hooks the diamond securely around my neck.

“So what exactly is this party you’re dragging yourself to for?”

I bite my lip and search through my planner. I look up the date and read it off, “Tonight is the release party for a new artist, Jordan, who Justin Timberlake is premiering on dad’s label.”

She hops onto my bed and lays down, playing with the fringe on one of the decorative pillows, “This bed is clean right?”

I turn around and roll my eyes at her. Alex takes some wine out of the bottle that I keep next to the bed in case of a much needed pick me up and pours herself some, “I was just checking. So do you know who the new artist is?”

“Not at the moment, dad hasn't said anything, but I suspect by the time the party is over I will.”

Alex bites the inside of her cheek, “And you’re going to go home with this guy in front of Justin?”

“He’s cool with it. It’s not like we have ever been closer than a few quick fucks. Besides, he’s sleeping around with other people as well.”

Alex shrugs, “He just seems to care for you that’s all.”

I start to laugh, “Justin Timberlake? He’s gets screwed every day, believe me he’s not looking for anyone long term. I’m sure he’ll have some girl attached to him by the time tonight is over.”

“If you say so.”

“Now I have to go get some more oils to finish my painting and then the party but tomorrow I don’t have anything going on if you want to hang out, go to the beach or something.”

Alex hands me some wine as well, “Why don’t you see where you wake up tomorrow and we’ll play it by year.”

I turn to her, “Be my best friend and drop it Alex.”

“You can’t use sex to block out everything Meg. Sooner or later everyone has to deal with there own shit.”

“I’ll see you later,” I say, walking out of the room.

________________________________________________________________________

I watch her smooze over all the other people in the room. I mean for fucking sake it’s my release party for my new artist. Her smile bounces from person to person and I watch her in a fit of jealousy hang out with every breathing male in the place except for me. Finally on what can only be described as a lifetime she makes her way over to me, kissing me on the cheek, “Hey you.”

I go stiff as she kisses me and cocks her head to the side, “You okay?”

I nod, realizing she just asked me how I was feeling and that it causes my stomach to turn in anticipation of what I could have. She looks around, “So where is Jordan? I’m anxious to meet your new protégée.”

A smile crosses my face as I realize what she was planning on tonight and it isn’t going to happen, making me even more excited. Apparently daddy has informed his daughter in on the new artist yet, “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

I take her hand in mine and lead her over the Jordan. I touch her shoulder and she turns around, “Jordan, this is Megan Currie.”

Meg looks surprised, “Oh, hi.”

Jordan enthusiastically shakes her hand, “It’s such an honor to meet you.”

“Me?” she asks curiously.

“Yes, my father is a co-owner in your art gallery. I love your work.”

She smiles this genuine smile, “Thank you so much.”

“Your use of colors amazes me. Where do you get your inspiration?”

I can see Meg lowering her guard. That one she keeps up with any male that approaches her, “Generally I just walk around the city for a while and when I see something that inspires me, I take a Polaroid and use it as a base. Since most of my pictures are abstract it serves more towards the colors or movement I chose to use.”

“Did you ever consider trying portraits?”

Her eyes light up, “I have thought about it but I have yet to dabble in it. I’m afraid that once I start and can’t get it to look the way I want I’ll hit a rut.”

Jordan puts her hand on Meg’s, “I know exactly what you mean. When I try to lay tracks down and it doesn’t come out the way I want it to it can be the most frustrating thing in the whole world.”

Someone calls Jordan’s name and she turns around quickly to see the person before turning back, “I have to go but it was so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Meg adds.

I watch Jordan leave and lean over to Meg, “Did you think you were getting laid tonight?”

She turns to me, her game face back on, “I know so.”

“Jordan isn’t a guy Meg.”

“I can see that,” she retorts, clearly annoyed by the fact that her lay is not someone carrying the kind of “endowment” she needs to get off.

“I guess your release depends on me,” I respond, a smirk appearing on my face.

She runs a finger down my shirt, “I depend on no one. Don’t you remember the golden rule? I always have a back up. My partner tonight is standing right over there,” she says. I turn around to see a guy who looks like he belongs in the NFL with the size of his arms.

She closes her eyes and leans up, sucking on my Adam’s apple before releasing me, “I’ll be seeing you Justin.”

Trace stands and looks at me, “Now repeat everything I say. I Justin.”

“I Justin.”

“Will not be a pussy.”

“Will not be a pussy,” I reply, eyeing him as he enjoys my pain a little too much.

“And desperately go after Megan Currie.”

“And desperately go after Megan Currie.”

Trace puts his hand on my shoulder, “No matter what she’s wearing or how hard you get.”

I grimace at the thought of having to go home without her but I realize my whole life cannot be spent chasing a girl who doesn’t want something more. I’m not saying that I know exactly what I want, but I do know it’s so not cool that she’s sleeping around with other guys while doing me, “No matter what she’s wearing or how hard I get.”

Trace pats me on the back, “Good man. Now you have a meeting with Jordan and she will be there. You are going to hold your own with the help of Cassy.”

“Right, that girl I met at that party once.”

Trace nods, “Yes, and you will leave with her, take her to dinner, forget about Meg and with any luck get laid.”

I take a deep breath, “Okay. I’m ready to go.”

The doorbell rings and Trace outs his hands up so I’ll sit, going over to the door and opening it, “Cassy, so nice to see you baby.”

The blonde steps into the room and smiles as she sees me, “Justin Timberlake. My, my my, will wonders never cease. I thought you didn’t know how to use a phone after I gave you my number a few weeks ago.”

I smirk and brush the comment off, “I was really busy. You know how busy my life gets.”

She nods, “I thought it was because you were holding out for Megan Currie.”

Trace makes a face at me and I catch it out of the corner of my eye, “No, not anymore. We were hanging out but it’s over now.”

Cassy smiles, “Alright then. Let’s not be late to see Jordan lay down her vocals.”

I take her arm and lead her out the door as Trace throws me a thumbs up as I leave. I can do this, I can do this.

________________________________________________________________________

I push my hair back as I lean against the glass, watching Jordan sing. I have never met a nicer person in my life. She’s sweet and kind, two very rare qualities for an emerging artist. Normally they are full of it because they have something to prove, but Jordan let’s her voice speak for itself.

Of course when my dad looks at her, all he sees is dollar signs. Money to be harvested he says. I’d like to punch him in his face every time he does. It’s what he used to say before taking over someone’s company.

I watch out the window as a car pulling in catches my attention. I see Justin and whoever is with him park his car, another new one and walk inside together, fucking hanging on each other as they giggle their way into the building. I think I just threw up in my mouth. Ugh.

“I was so plastered I couldn’t remember a thing.”

Oh please tell me this is the part where she bursts into oblivion. Just the kind of girl you want to take home to mom. Justin barely looks at me with a quick, “Hi,” 

Her eyes scan me over like a cat does to a mouse. That’s right honey, you just show your fangs but I’m the one with the bite. Justin looks back to the “doctor” and turns to me, “Cassy, this is Meg. Meg, this is my date Cassy.”

“Pleasure,” she says, squeezing my hand a little too tightly to get her point across. And what would that be? Stay the fuck away from my man.

She’s only been here two minutes but she has already managed to rid me off my patience and make her way up under my skin to fully piss me off, “Nice to meet you too.”

Jordan comes out from the recording area, “Hey Justin, what did you think?”

He nods, “It’s really, really good. I would put that on the album.”

She squeals a little, “Great. That means it’s a wrap.”

Jordan turns to me, “Thank you so much for taking me out to lunch. I had a wonderful time talking about your pieces.”

I smile, “It was so nice to talk to someone who understands.”

Dad calls Justin over and he puts his hand on Cassy’s back, leading her over. As she passes by me she utters, “Whore,” under her breath.

That is about all I can take so I turn to end my conversation with Jordan, “Call me sometime and we can get together. I’ll show you some of the things I’ve been working on.”

Justin starts talking to Jordan about a few details as she walks out the door and I look at my watch, sighing loudly, “Damn it.”

Like clockwork, Justin turns to me, “What’s the matter?”

“I was supposed to be up town in fifteen and with traffic the way it is I won’t get there so I was going to take a different route, but I left my map in my other car.”

“Well let’s go out to mine and see if there’s one in there.”

I follow Justin outside before Cassy can protest and watch as Justin looks in the car door, “No I don’t think I have one, sorry.”

He turns back around but before he can say anything else, I kiss him on the mouth. He backs up and looks at me panting, “What are you doing?”

“What I’m good at. Don’t question it. Meet me at my apartment in ten minutes, I’ll be waiting.”

“What about Cassy?”

I turn back around and give him a crazy look like it should be incredibly obvious. Men, “Lose her.”

He nods and jogs quickly inside as I head out to my apartment.

________________________________________________________________________

I look around the room as Cassy talks to Daniel and I try to think of an excuse as to why I need to leave her here. She spots me before I can think of a reasonable lie, “Hey I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner.”

I smile and laugh a little to kill the discomfort I’m feeling. Daniel gathers up his briefcase and turns to us, “I’ll see you guys later. Nice job on her album Justin.”

I don’t just hate that guy, I despise him for the way he treats her. Like she’s not even in the fucking room. The only time Meg is acknowledged is when he’s showing her off like they do at dog shows. Cassy tugs on my arm and I suddenly remember that she’s not going anywhere unless I do something quickly, “Dinner sounds wonderful but I just got a call outside from one of my friends who needs me to help them out.”

Cassy’s smile quickly fades as she looks at me, “Where’s Megan?”

I decided to play innocent since it’s the last card I’m left holding, “She left remember? The whole map thing….”

I barely finish speaking before she slaps me in my face hard, “You are going to go hook up with her aren’t you?”

I don’t say anything in favor of rubbing my face where she hit me and subtly glancing at my watch at the same time. If I leave in the next minute, I can just make it there on time. Meg waits for no one. I look up at Cassy and say nothing, letting the truth of it set in as she gears up for a fight that I refuse to engage in, “I thought you said it was over. I thought you were moving on.”

“Cassy I really don’t feel like getting into it with you right now alright?” I sigh, hoping that she’ll just drop it.

“You know what Timberlake? Fuck you,” she spats, storming out of the building.

I don’t even stop to think about her as I run to my car, hop in and drive like a madman over to Megan’s. I’m pretty sure I could get killed by the way I’m driving but the more I think about her, the more I want her. Forget about stop lights and speed limits. Obviously the person who invented them never had a girl naked waiting for them at the other end of town. I put the car in park and I pull in her driveway.  I don’t bother to knock as I take the steps two at a time up to her bedroom and open the door in triumph.

I see her completely naked hold a wrist watch in her hand lazily, licking her lips, “Right on time.”

________________________________________________________________________

I get up tiredly as Justin’s cell is ringing and it’s driving me crazy, having woke me up from a deep sleep, “Hello?” I say groggily.

“Cassy?” a voice asks over the phone.

I smile as I gently drag my nails down Justin’s sleeping figure, causing him to groan a little in response, “No it’s not.”

The person sighs over the phone and I know exactly who it is, “Meg?”

I chuckle, “Morning Trace. Sleep well?”

“What happened to Cassy?”

I roll my eyes and get out of bed, put on my robe and look out the window, “She just wasn’t doing it for him.”

Trace groans, “You know it’s not health for him to be with you. Your fucking with him.”

“Of course I am. He’s damn good at it to I might add.”

“You know what I mean Meg. There are plenty of guys out there willing to take care of your needs. Why the fuck do you have to fuck with his head every time? Why can’t you just let him go?”

The truth of the matter is I don’t know. I normally don’t hang on to the guys I do, makes them feel like they are number one which I don’t ever want them thinking. But for some reason, I keep letting him in, “You know what Trace? I don’t have time for twenty questions. Justin will have to call you back, he’s busy at the moment.”  

I slam the phone closed which causes Justin to wake up, opening his eyes, “Morning.”

“Morning,” I respond, handing him some strawberries from my mini fridge.

He takes the fruit, “Thanks.”

I nod and wait for him to get the message it’s time to go, “Trace called, he wants you to call him back.”

“You talked to him?” he asks nervously.

I nod, “Why? You concerned I’m soliciting others?”

He rolls his eyes, getting out of bed and pulling on his boxers, “I’ve got a question for you.”

I look over at him, “Oh yeah?”

“I was thinking I have to do a few shows in Germany and was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

I freeze since he’s breaking rule number three, no couple outings, “Justin come on.”

“It’s not like were dating each other or anything, think about it as a mini vacation. We would only be gone like a week and a half. It might be fun,” he pleads.

In spite of myself, I’m beginning to melt as I look at his face. I mentally tell myself to get a grip and that I’m losing my touch but the other half of me takes over, “Fine, but just as friends.”

“With benefits,” he grins.

I ignore his last comment and he wipes that stupid smirk off his face, “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about this. I’m not going to be following your ass around anytime soon or anything like this. It’s purely platonic and if you can’t handle that-”

“I get it,” Justin responds, pulling on his clothes.

“Why don’t you take a shower,” I offer.

He looks up at me, “You sure? I mean normally you just kick me out.”

I turn to him with a annoyed expression, “I could change my mind.”

He shakes his head no and heads towards the bathroom. I turn back around as I watch the city begin to wake up. Suddenly I feel his lips on my shoulder, “Thanks Meg.”

I don’t bother to turn around as chills go up my arm, “No problem.”  

I hurry to get ready throwing things into my suitcase as Trace sits on my bed surveying my packing skills with disgust, “Why the fuck would you invite Megan Currie with you? She doesn’t require you to do things for her to put out. She’s the perfect relationship for a male whore.”

I stop putting my clothes into my bag and look up, “Would you stop referring to her as Megan Currie like it was her porn name or something.”

Trace rolls his eyes, “For fucking sake, she could be a porn star. She’s as frigid as a snow bitch and you are treating her like she is your steady girlfriend or something in high school, Come on and wake up. Don’t do this man you know you’re falling for her and it’s never going to happen. Why would you want to ruin what you have anyway? DO you know how many guys would kill to be in your position?”

I throw a foam ball at his head, “Stop alright? You are just upset that she’s coming and you’re not.”

“Uh hello? Of course I’m fucking mad about that. I could be going to Germany and picking up strippers that speak in a foreign language which eliminates the bitching and you invite Megan-”

I point a finger at him and he stops short of saying her last name. I zip up my suitcase and pull it off the bed and onto the floor, “Stop bitching. I’ll be home in a week and then we can do all that stuff.”

“Yeah and the only reason I know that is because you are Meg’s bitch and when she’s done screwing you your ass will come trotting back to me.”

I grin, “That cause you’re my bitch.”

He sighs, “Go on. Get laid, come back happier and then we can do some shit.”

I pat him on the back, “I’ll see you when I get back.”

The doorbell rings and I jog to the door opening it to see Meg with her sunglasses on her head, “Are we going?”

“Yeah. You look good,” I remark.

“Thanks,” she says without any emotion.

I take the suitcase from her hand and take both of ours out to the car, putting them in. She leans back in her seat and turns on the radio. She searches the station until she hits a familiar song, “You don’t mind Matchbox Twenty do you?”

I shake my head no, reaching for the dial and turning it up. I see a smile creep onto her lips as she softly sings along. Sure she’s no Christina, but she can keep a tune and right now it sounds like the best rendition of the song I have ever heard.

she says it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat
she's always worried about things like that
she says it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault
and she only sleeps when its raining
and she screams and her voice is straining 

and she says baby
it's 3am I must be lonely
when she says baby
well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
she says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it 

“I got this really nice hotel for us. It has a whole separate dinning room, kitchen, dinning room and bedroom,” I boast trying to show her what life in my shoes is like. 

“I don’t give a damn about hotels. I have stayed in enough of them.” Okay so she shot that down fairly quickly. She was never one to be impressed but I thought I would at least give it a try.

She turns her head to me, “I’ve never been out of the country.” 

My head spins in her direction, “What?” 

“I’ve never been out of the country,” she repeats. 

“But your parents travel all over the world.” 

She laughs, “Yes my parents travel all over the world and each and every time they left us home with the nanny.”

she's got a little bit of something, God it's better than nothing
and in her color portrait world she believes that she's got it all
she swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to
and she only sleeps when its raining
and she screams, and her voice is straining 

she believes that life is made up of all that you're used to
and the clock on the wall has been stuck at 3 for days, and days
she thinks that happiness is the mat that sits on her doorway
but outside its stopped raining

“Wow,” I say for a lack of something to say.

I touch her hand and to my surprise she doesn’t pull away, “Well I’m glad you’re coming with me. I’ll show you around the city. You will absolutely love it.”

Her fingers play with mine and I pretend that I don’t notice. It’s the game we play to keep the ball rolling, “If you say so.”

________________________________________________________________________

I can’t believe this is happening to me. I was planning on the best week ever with the one girl no one can land and I have to go and get the flu. We were riding on the plane over here when I started to feel my throat become scratchy and my nose filled up. Before I knew it I could barely move though I did my best to fake it. I took my temperature as Meg went into the bedroom to unpack a few things. One hundred and three.

I hear footsteps and a voice calls out, “Justin.”

I follow the voice into the bedroom to see Meg clad in only her underwear, “You want to have some real fun.”

This isn’t going to be any worse or painful. I open my mouth to talk and I can barely swallow, “I can’t.”

She gets this look on her face like she might kill me, “And why the fuck not?”

I reach for the bed and sit down, holding my head, “Because I don’t feel well. I have a really bad sore throat and fever.”

I sound like a fucking pussy.

“Oh,” is all she says. I watch her put on her robe and leave the bedroom closing the doors behind her. I stare at the wood until I see double. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If I can’t perform she’s going to find someone who can. I sink down onto the bed as I carefully get changed and put on some sweats sinking underneath the covers and turning down the lights.

Suddenly the door reopens with Meg carrying a tray. I sit up in surprise a little too quickly and a surge of pain hits me head. Her hand is placed on my forehead as she sets the tray in my lap, “There is chicken soup with some celery and carrots, throat lozenges, ginger ale and tissues,” she says, fluffing my pillow.

I look at her like she’s got two heads and go into shock as she puts her head on my chest, lying down next to me. I don’t know where to place my hands in case it might wake her from her trance but finally decide to put one arm on her back. I gently lower it until it touches her skin and keep it still to see if she moves. Nothing.

“Where did you learn to do all this?”

She tucks a piece of blonde hair behind her ear, “My nanny taught me how.”

“Your nanny taught you how to take care of sick people?”

She laughs so lightly it’s like a nymph, not that bitter one that normally accompanies her laugh, “No, whenever my brother or I were sick she used to take care of us, which was nice because we got her undivided attention. My parents didn’t bother her because there was a chance she could get it which meant they could get it. Therefore we had her all to ourselves.”

“You must have really liked her.”

Meg smiles, “Yeah she was great. She taught me everything I know. The soup isn’t as good as mine, but it’s good,” she says, putting the spoon in the soup.

I take a sip and it slides down easily. Meg opens the ginger ale bottle and pours it into a glass with ice, “There you go.”

I take a sip and lie back, “I’m sorry I’m not feeling well. I promise as soon as I can move I’ll show you around.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I have ever heard you talk about your home life.”

Her body tightens and it makes me wonder why the hell I open my mouth, “I guess it’s because there is nothing to tell.”

“What about your brother?”

“What about my brother?”

I shift underneath her, “Are you guys close?”

She takes her hair and pulls it up to reveal her pure white skin, “Sure. I mean we never fight much or anything. He is normally pretty busy with the gallery to hang out much.”

I look into her green eyes and wonder why it’s the only time I have yet to see them clouded over, “When did you know you were meant to paint?”

“Mmmm, oh I’m not sure. I’ve been doing it since I can remember. I just picked up a paint brush and went to town.”

I blow the few strands of hair that have come lose out of her eyes, “You still thinking of doing portraits?”

 She licks her lips, “Yeah but I need a motivation. When I see something and I can’t help but want to put the image on paper,” she giggles, “You could pose nude for me and we could see where that goes when you’re better.”

Her mind is a thing of beauty, “Or you could get naked and I could show you how else we could make art.”

She smiles and touches my arm, “How about you Mr. Grammy winner? When did you know you wanted to sing?”

I chuckle and instantly wish I didn’t because of the pain in my throat intensifies as I do, “When I went to my first New Kids On The Block concert.”

She starts to crack up and puts her head next to my hand, “That’s too funny.”

“Trace went to. I think I even have a picture of him in a tee shirt standing next to their poster.”

“That is something I need a copy of.”

I smirk finishing the soup, “I’ll make you one when we get back to the states.”

“Blackmail for life,” she muses, finally resting her head between my neck and shoulder. I’m not sure what brought on this wonderful change but I hope it never changes.

________________________________________________________________________

I play with the phone as I wait for Alex to call. Apparently from her message I was supposed to phone her after we arrived and I neglected to do so. It’s a nice view from the hotel thanks to a balcony providing a glimpse of the area. The phone starts to ring and I flip it open, “Hey Alex?”

“Hey miss MIA.”

“Sorry about that.”

I can hear her making dinner, “It’s alright. I assumed you were busy entertaining a certain pop star.”

I peak inside to see him sound asleep in bed causing me to smile a little, “He’s sick, I was making sure he was going to make it,” I joke.

“You were always secretly the nurturer,” she remarks.

“I don’t know. Something about him when he said he wasn’t feeling well got to me.”

“Be careful, you might actually be developing human emotions for another human being.”

I go back inside feeling the chill get the best of me, “Funny Alex, very funny.”

“Adam called for you. He wanted me to tell you he wants you to call him back.”

I curl back into the bed, “Kay, thanks.”

“Are you going to?” she asks.

There is a good question to which a month ago I could have answered, but now I’m beginning to feel confused by life, “I don’t know. I’m really tired so I’m going to call it a night.”

“Alright Meg. I’ll talk to you later doll.”

“Bye Alex.”

I close the phone and turn it off. I pull out my camera and put in some black and white film, taking a few of him sleeping. The flash from the camera makes him stir as the shutter makes a clicking noise. Not wanting to wake him, I put the camera next to the bed and watch him for a minute. His body’s breathing rhythm is soothing to me and I drift off to sleep listening to him.

The noise of Justin unpacking causes me to stir from my peaceful sleep. I groan, stretching my arms up over my head, “You have to do that right now?”

He looks up from the suitcase, “Good morning to you too princess.”

I fall back on the pillow and sigh as he climbs on top of me, “You know you slept through the garbage trucks and road work this morning.”

“I’m a heavy sleeper,” I reply, throwing my hand over my eyes as I realize we are back in New York. Back to the hustle and bustle of the city.

“No shit,” he replies as he kisses my chest lightly.

His eyes look me over as I sit up yawning, pushing him away so I can get up. My head feels like someone took a bat to it as the throbbing sets in. A little too much drinking on the plane that led to more sex which ended with a severe hangover has been fun while it lasted but it’s time to hang up the towel. I grope for the glass of water next to the bed and whine slightly, “Do you have any aspirin?”

He opens the door to the side table and produces a small bottle, “This will take care of that hangover,” he says, placing several pills in the palm of my hand.

“How come you don’t have one?” I ask as I pop the pills in my mouth.

“I was busy drinking you,” he replies saucily.

Justin’s hand trails down my body but I’m really too sick to have sex and pull away, which should tell him my headache has got to be splitting. I lick my lips and suck on his finger gently, “I have to go.”

His head hits mine and I groan from the searing pain, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I mumble.

“Do you have to go? I mean we could just hang out here today.”

I unzip my suitcase and pull out some jeans and a tank top, “I have to let my family know I’m alive.”

“You didn’t tell them when you were getting back?”

I laugh to myself, “I didn’t tell them I was going at all.”

“Why?” he asks, sitting up in the bed as though the idea is beyond his comprehension.

“Because I didn’t want to. In case you didn’t notice they haven’t called.”

“Really?”

“We’re not that close,” I respond.

I succeed in finding my shoes and slip them on my feet, “I’ll see you later. Say hi to Trace for me.”

“I’ll call you,” he shouts thought I’m not even at the door knob.

I turn around and look at him, “I’ll be waiting.”

________________________________________________________________________

“How could you?”

I sigh in frustration at the line of questioning. It’s not real helpful and my body misses her, “Haven’t we been over this before? Besides, you just don’t understand.”

Trace laughs bitterly, “No I understand perfectly. You’re in love with her. You fucking need your head examined.”

“I’m not in love with her,” I insist, rolling my eyes.

“Dude you need to look in the fucking mirror. You can’t even talk about her without getting a hard on.”

“You just don’t know her like I do.”

Trace starts to crack up and holds his stomach as tears build up in his eyes, “You don’t fucking know her mind, you know what makes her hot. No one knows how she thinks. Not even her.”

My nostrils flare, “Trace if you don’t have anything fucking positive to say don’t open your fucking mouth.”

He rolls his eyes, “Pussy.”

“What did I just say?”

“Please I’m begging you dude, let’s go find some real girls who just want to please us sexually and hang on our arms.”

“Give it up Trace.”

He slams the fridge closed and opens a bottle of beer, “Fine, do what you want with her but next week when she’s sucking someone else’s dick, don’t come crying to me.”

I put my tongue in my cheek and Trace gets the message, relenting and going for a slice of pizza, “You going to call her?”

I nod, “Tomorrow, I figure that gives her enough time to relax.”

“Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

________________________________________________________________________

After checking my messages I got ready and made my way over to my parents. I retrieve the keys from my pocketbook and go inside, looking at the familiar features. The banister I slid down, the rug I tripped on and caused me to hit my head on the table. The scuff mark on the floor from rollerblading on the hard wood and the panel that lead to the closet I used to hide in when Aiden and I used to play hide and seek.

“Hey gorgeous.”

I spin around in shock as to the figure in the doorway, “How’s my long lost brother?”

Aiden smiles, “Hey I called you three times last week and you weren’t home.”

“And before that you called me how many times?” I ask sarcastically.

He grins, “The phone works both ways. I guess we are both guilty.”

I go over to him and wrap my arms around his neck, “I really missed you. I thought you weren’t going to be home for another month.”

He takes a step back, “I have some important news for everyone.”

I cock my head to the side, “News? Does it have to do with grad school?”

Aiden just purses his lips, “You’ll know soon enough.”

I groan, “Come on, I’m your only sister. Aren’t I supposed to know things about your life before anyone else?”

“I always tell you things before everyone else but this is something I want to tell the whole family at once.”

“Fine.”

He pulls me closer, “Haven’t we always told each other everything?”

“Yes,” I lie.

“Then trust me and wait.”

I let the subject go as I realize a new twist to the situation, “Does that mean we have to have dinner with mom and dad?” I ask, dreading the answer.

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll give you one guess.”

I slump my shoulders in annoyance, “Great.”

“Come on, they are not that bad.”

I laugh, “Yes, yes they are.”

“You have to behave tonight alright? It’s really important to me.”

I hug him from the side, “Whatever you want.”

“Good. Feel like telling me where you were the last week?”

I flip my hair over my shoulder, “I was in Germany.”

He frowns, “You left the country? For real? I thought you didn’t know that other countries existed.”

I rub the back of my neck gently, “I know. Never would have thought I would have in a million years.”

“Did you go for some art thing?” he asks, putting his arm around my shoulder and walking me into the kitchen.

I pull up a chair and sit down playing with a cloth napkin on the table as he makes himself a sandwich, “No, it wasn’t an art thing.”

Aiden gestures with his arm for me to go on, “Any details you feel like adding would be helpful. I’m not a mind reader in case you didn’t know.”

Ugh, “I was in Germany…. with Justin Timberlake,” I add quickly to make it seem like a distant memory.

Aiden starts to laugh, “Justin Timberlake? You have got to be kidding. You are certainly moving up with the guys you sleep with,” he says smirking.

“It’s nothing serious. You know you’re my number one guy. No one has ever put me first the way you have.”

He stops making his sandwich and puts the knife down, “I hope you know that you’ll always be my number one no matter what.”

“I know, we have always promised that to one another.”

He goes back to making the sandwich, “I just wanted to make sure.”

________________________________________________________________________

I sit stiffly next to Aiden as my parents sit across from us talking about Aiden’s career. I drag my fork through my mashed potatoes and finally put it to the side, taking a sip of my wine. Aiden wipes his mouth, “So there is a reason why I’m here.”

Mom folds her hands in her lap, “Well I assume you were here for a reason.”

Aiden nods, “It’s pretty big.”

Dad puts his silverware down, “What is it Aiden?”

Aiden squeezes my hand, “Well as you all know I’ve been in California and while I was there I kind of met someone….”

I stop staring at my parents and turn to Aiden as he continues, “And I’ve decided to get married.”

I feel my anger rising as my mother starts to cry, “Oh Aiden.”

“What’s her name?” dad asks, lighting a cigarette and puffing on it.

“Tiffany Bradley.”

“That’s a good family. Her father’s an investor isn’t he?”

Does anyone understand how this is going to affect everything? What world am I living in? I throw my napkin down and stand up abruptly, “You’re getting married?”

Aiden winces at my voice and stands up as well, “Megan please calm down.”

“You’re fucking getting married!” I scream as though this might be a dream and I’m just waiting to wake up.

“Watch you language young lady,” my dad snaps but doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m upset or even standing.

I just turn around and grab my jacket storming out of the house. What the fuck? I can’t even think strait. I hear the door open behind my as I jog to my car as little faster to get away from the person who lied to me, “Meg wait.”

I spin around as Aiden runs after me, “What the fuck do you want Aiden?”

“Meg come on, please talk to me.”

I just shake my head, “How could you! You promised since we were kids that it would always be you and me.”

“It is you and me Meg, but I fell in love and you cannot stop yourself from doing..”

I snort, “Love. Love is the biggest bunch of bullshit I have ever heard. I thought you were the one who understood better than anyone else.”

“Look Meg, I will always love you but when I met Tiffany, I just knew I wanted to marry her. When you fall in love you’ll feel the same way.”

I struggle to get my keys out of my purse, “We weren’t ever supposed to care about anyone else except each other. You lied to me and I’ll never believe anything you say ever again,” I cry.

He grabs my shoulders and holds me strait, “You were the one who made that rule and I went along with you because you needed me to at the time but you can’t live like that forever. Do you really like sleeping with random guys who only want one thing from you? Do you really want a guy who just wants you for your body? Because that’s not what I want for you Meg.”

“Just let me go,” I say, pushing his arms off me. I put the key in the car door and get in but Aiden holds the door open.

“Meg whatever you have to deal with maybe it’s time we brought in a therapist you could talk to,” he suggests gently, trying to take my keys from the ignition.

I feel very out of control right now and I never allow myself to get into this position, “Do me a favor and don’t talk to me Aiden,” I reply, getting the door from his grasp and putting in into reverse, driving away.

I feel tears seep down my cheeks and I urgently dial my cell phone and light a cigarette as I desperately try to light it as he answers, “Hello?”

I let out a shaky breath of smoke, “Adam you busy?”

“No, come on over baby,” he replies as I hear him stop moving.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I say, closing the phone and tossing it to the passenger seat. I flip the radio on and turn it up so I cannot hear myself think.

I lay over Adam’s bed and stare up at the ceiling. It’s a popcorn finish on it, al la the eighties, which is surprising because the apartment he rents is in upper Manhattan and was built only a year ago. I remember Adam telling me when he moved in that everything in the apartment reeked of modern sophisticate and once I stayed overnight with him I would never want to leave. Bullshit.

I refocus my eyes as Adam comes back into the bedroom and sits down at the edge of the bed, sipping some coffee he must have poured himself. I roll my neck to the side to get the kinks out of it and turn to look at him, “Coffee?”

He kicks my clothes to the side with his foot and nods, “Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you poured me any.”

He shakes his head, “You know where the kitchen is. That’s normally where the coffee resides in the morning.”

I give him my annoyed look but he either is ignoring it or is too ignorant to know what a look like the one I’m giving him means. I grasp the coffee cup in his hand and pull it away from him, “Thanks for the coffee.”

“No problem,” he replies sarcastically.

I take a sip and let it run down my throat slowly, enjoying the taste of the liquid. Adam throws me a towel and points to the bathroom, “I have a job to get to, you know what to do when you leave.”

I wrap myself in the towel and stand up, running my fingers through my tangled hair as I walk off to the bathroom.

“Meg?”

I turn around, “What?”

“Why aren’t you at Justin’s?”

My expression doesn’t change. I’ve learned how to keep my expressions pretty much to a minimal unless you really shock the shit out of me. Something inside of me however doesn’t appreciate the questioning. I’ve never had to answer to anyone ever. I turn back around to go into the bathroom but he persists, “I mean out of all the guys you were with, he’s the one who you normally run to. I’m the one you call when you want a quick fuck and are in the mood to get your ass kicked to the curb in the morning.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

________________________________________________________________________

I walk up to Meg’s apartment and wrap on the door steadily. To my surprise, a guy answers the door and it’s one I’ve never even seen before. He stands there waiting for me to say something and I try and calm my anger, “Is Meg here?”

The guy shakes his head sadly, “No, she must have stayed overnight with someone.”

I don’t move and after considering my options, one of which was to slug this guy in the stomach, I open my mouth, “So when did you start hooking up with Meg?”

The guy immediately starts to laugh really hard as I fail to see the humor. He puts his hand on my shoulder to brace himself, “I’m Meg’s brother Aiden.”

My expression changes and I loosen up a little, “Oh.”

He stands up strait and shakes his head, “Sorry I didn’t say something sooner, I just knew you by sight and assumed for some stupid reason you would know who I was.”

He resembles Meg in some of his features. Sandy blonde hair, blues eyes and the same laugh. But he isn’t as guarded as Meg is and there is this kind of comforting easygoing attitude that he has that tells you it’s okay to put your guard down around him. I clear my throat a little, “You said Meg stayed somewhere else?”

His face falls a little, “Yeah, I kind of assumed she was with you until you showed up this morning,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“Why did she not spend the night here?” I ask, somewhat puzzled.

Aiden puts his hands in his pockets, “We got into it a little bit last night and she took off. I came over this morning to talk to her but obviously she isn’t here and her bed hasn’t been slept in.”

“Is she alright?” I ask concerned.

He nods, “I’m sure she’s just out with one of her guys she’s seeing.”

Like that thought was supposed to comfort me. I lick my lips slightly unsure of what to do as I stick out my hand, “It was nice meeting you.”

“Look man, I’m sure that’s not what you want to here right now. Why don’t you come inside for a minute and we’ll talk.”

I don’t really have an choices as he holds the door open so I step into the familiar apartment. Aiden was right I notice as I peer into the bedroom and see the bed sheets untouched. Aiden pulls out a chair for me at the kitchen table and pours himself some coffee, holding one out to me, “Want some?”

I shake my head no and take the chair offered to me. Aiden pulls up a seat and sits down. He takes a long sip of his coffee and focuses on me, “How old are you man?”

“Twenty six.”

“Okay,” he says, putting his coffee on the table, “Coming from someone who is older and who has known Meg since she was born, she is a train wreck.”

“Excuse me?”

Aiden sighs, “I love my sister more than anyone else on this planet but it doesn’t mean I’m going to lie to you. She is so screwed up that I can’t even begin to tell you. I just think it’s only fair you know before you get in further over your head.”

I sit back in shock at his words as I let them sink in, “What is her problem?”

He shrugs, “I’ll be damned if I know. I wish I did. On several occasions I’ve told her that maybe she should see a physiatrist and talk everything out but she doesn’t listen to me anymore.”

“I really care about her.”

Aiden raises his eyebrows, “No you don’t.”

His mocking tone rubs me the wrong way, “Yes I do. How would you know anyway?”

He smiles, “You are in love with her.”

I sit there silently as the truth hangs in the air. Aiden just swishes the coffee in his mug, “I’m not saying you don’t love her, I’m saying she isn’t in love with you and I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt in her wake.”

“What makes you think that she doesn’t love me?”

“Was she in your bed last night?”

I wrap my knuckles on the table in frustration. Aiden stands up and puts his cup in the sink, “I don’t like to think of her like that, but I can’t pretend nothing’s wrong with her either. I love her too much to do that.”

“Aiden!”

We both spin around to see Meg in the doorway.

________________________________________________________________________

I can barely bring myself to look at him right now. My jaw tightens as I see Justin sitting at the table and do my best to keep from losing it, “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to talk to you Meg.”

“Just get out.”

“Meg.”

“Get out,” I respond, raising my voice.

Aiden sighs and gets his coat off the back of the chair, heading out the door. I wait until I hear the door slam shut to look at Justin, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Imagine my surprise to hear you weren’t here.”

 No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am

Dont think that I can take another empty moment
Dont think that I can fake another hollow smile
Its not enough just to be sorry
Dont think that I could take another talk about it 

I ignore the questioning infidelity underlying in that sentence and move right on, “What did Aiden say to you?”

Justin stands up and leans against the table, “He was just giving me advice.”

“About what?”

“You.”

I play with my hair and gesture my hand to go on when he doesn’t, “And?”

“And nothing. He was just being a nice guy.”

“By telling you I’m fucked right?”

Justin flinches, “That’s not the terminology he used.”

I laugh harshly, “It never is.”

Just like me you got needs
And they’re only a whisper away
And we softly surrender
To these lives that we’ve tendered away

No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And there’ll be no rest for these tired eyes
I’m marking it down to learning
I am

Don’t wanna be the one who turns the whole thing over
Don’t wanna be somewhere where I just don’t belong
Where its not enough just be sorry

Don’t you know I feel the darkness closing in
Tried to be more than me
And I gave till it all went away
And we’ve only surrendered
To the worst part of these winters we’ve made

“Look Meg, were you with another guy last night?”

I roll my eyes, “Justin just stop alright? Nothing you or I do during our off time from each other is ever brought up. You know the rules.”

“Well maybe I’m tired of the rules. I never had any say in the making of the rules anyway.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Maybe it should,” he says, raising his voice to my level.

I slip my jacket off with my high heels and throw them in the opposite direction to which I’m going, “It doesn’t. It’s about me, not you.”

“Then I think we should end this thing.”

I turn to look at him and chuckle for no reason whatsoever, “Fine.”

“Fine? That’s all I get after all this time?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t give a damn who you are or what you do for a living. All I care is how things affect me,” I yell, “I have to look out for myself. So get out.”

“So that’s it then?” he says in surprise, “No we can work this out, let’s try harder?”

“What the fuck did you think we were doing here Justin? This isn’t a relationship. I’m fucking other guys and you’re fucking other girls. No questions asked.”

No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And there’ll be no rest for these tired eyes
I’m marking it down to learning
I am

I am all that Ill ever be
When you - lay your hands
Over me but don’t go weak on me now
I know that its weak
But God help me I need this

Justin stands there for a minute until I throw his coat at him, “You can get out.”

“Great. Have a nice life.”

I don’t respond, rather flipping him off as he exits the apartment. I go through my cabinets one by one until I find a bottle of whisky and undo the top, pouring some into a glass and downing it.

I will not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And there’ll be no rest for these tired eyes
I’m marking it down to learning
I’m marking it down to learning
cause I am

I fucking hate men. If it were up to me I’d rid them from the earth. I pour myself another drink and draw myself a bath, sinking into it with a cigarette in my mouth and a bottle in my hand. Welcome to my life.

(Two Months Later)

“Uhhh,” she moans underneath me, gripping me hard.

I swear this wouldn’t happen. I swore I was done. I swore up and down on my mother. And yet here I am. You might be asking yourself what happened that would cause me to take back everything I said to her and be here at this very moment on top of her. I can sum up the answer in two words. Absolutely nothing.

I lasted a whole three days before crawling back to her apartment and… reconciling like only she can. But she’s Meg. What am I supposed to do?

Her moans become louder as she thrusts her hips up at me widely like an animal in heat. Normally when I’m having sex, I can balance the actual doing of the action with my thoughts like what performances I have scheduled, what interviews I have to do, when my next fuck is. Not with Meg. All I can concentrate on is her body underneath me, and on some occasions on top of me.

I can barely hold on long enough to give her an orgasm before collapsing myself on top of her. I swear the girl has some of the greatest stamina for sex I have ever met. But that’s all she has. After sex, it’s another story. I know you’re thinking nothing has changed. But you would be wrong and right. Everything has changed and nothing at the exact same time. Not complicated at all.

Finally Meg collapses underneath me, allowing my release to take over. She barely gives me a moment before pushing me off her. Her famous cigarette makes its way to her mouth and she takes a drag. She’s out of bed in a flash and tosses my clothes at me. Before I can udder a word, she’s locked herself in the bathroom.

No longer are the long conversations after sex, even if they were curt. I can barely spend more than two minutes with her besides getting laid. Which every guy should be jumping at. Every guy wants to be in my shoes. Except for me. Because I’m in love with her.

Every time I close my eyes I see her. Every damn time. And I hate and love her for it at the same time. I get up and knock on the bathroom door, “You want to come out of there?”

“Don’t you think if I wanted to come out I would be out there?” her voice echoing through the bathroom door.

“Have you talked to Aiden yet? You know he called my apartment the other day looking for you. I guess he must have gotten my number from your address book or something.”

Still no response.

“Do you know when he’s getting married? Because when I talked to him you hadn’t responded to his wedding invitation. He thought maybe you forgot or your invitation got lost in the mail.”

Sure I thought it was weird that I was getting calls from a guy that I had only met once, but his concern for Meg appealed to my compassionate side and let’s face it, I have always had a soft spot for her.

The door swings open suddenly as Meg appears and brushes by me quickly, putting her clothes on. I watch her put on her shoes and I reach out to touch her but she pulls away, “Don’t,” she warns.

“You want to talk?” I offer.

She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, “No thanks Dr. Phil.”

“I don’t know why I bother coming to see you anymore,” I throw out, hoping for some piece of emotion from her.

“Like I care.”

She swipes her keys off the dresser and heads out the door, leaving me sitting there naked on her bed.

_______________________________________________________________________

I slab paint onto a canvas and turn up Nirvana, allowing it to blare out the stereo. It is nice to have money in these instances, having your own private studio to paint and vent is always a nice thing. Daddy’s version on his love bestowed on me.

I have yet to speak to Aiden. In some ways I feel like I’m being unfair to him. He can’t possibly imagine what it’s like to stand in my shoes and watch him get married. In that regard, it’s not his fault. On the other hand, I feel so betrayed after he promised I would come first in his life. And we all know when you get married, the wife comes first.

My paintings are abstract, though it’s gotten me in trouble before. When I was in high school, the local art teacher took a look at my art and suggested therapy. I remember holding the note in my hand as tightly as I could until I got home and set it on fire in my tree house in the backyard.

The principle eventually called my mother but she just laughed it off, saying it was a ridiculous idea and I was fine. I should have guessed I had nothing to worry about, mom would never let a physiatrist within a foot of me. Not when I was poised to go to an IV league school. All she ever told me was I was going to go to a good college. And I did.

“Getting everything out?”

“I’m fine Alex.”

She pulls up a vacant stool and sits down next to me, “Were you with Adam today?” she pries.

“Adam this morning, Justin this afternoon.”

“You sure get around,” she responds sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, “Whatever Alex. Like you aren’t doing the same thing.”

“In case you have been missing these last few weeks, you haven’t exactly been miss Mary sunshine. Something is going on. Maybe something with a guy… or a certain brother of yours. You know he called me to see how you were doing.”

“I’m just tired Alex. That’s all.”

She sighs, “That’s what you say every day.”

“Well I’m going to keep saying it,” I reply frustrated, throwing my paintbrush down.

“Bad day?”

“Not funny. Is there a reason why mom sent you down here?”

Alex hands me a sandwich, “She sent you some lunch and to tell you that your dad’s friend is staying over at their house and they wanted you to stop by and have dinner.”

“I don’t think so,” I respond, wiping my hands off from the paint.

Alex laughs, “That’s what I told her you would say. But she insisted you would want to be there because the guy was someone you liked.”

“Oh yeah?” I reply sarcastically.

“Yeah, some guy named Myles.”

“Myles Callahan?” I ask, turning around.

“I don’t know, she just said his first name. Didn’t your dad used to work with him when we were kids?”

I scrub the paint of the brushes furiously, “If it’s the same Myles. He was a partner in dad’s firm. He left when I was sixteen to work at another firm in Texas.”

“So are you going to have dinner with them?” she asks, examining my paintings that line the walls.

I shake my head no, “I’m busy tonight.”

“Doing what?”

“Anything else,” I reply with a forced smirk.

“Anti social huh?”

I take my smock off and throw it to the side, “I’ve earned it Alex.”

________________________________________________________________________

“I just don’t understand why she doesn’t want me,” I say, zipping up my pants. Maybe this isn’t exactly the right person to ask but if anyone can shed light on the situation I am more than happy to get another perspective as to hoe Meg’s mind works.

Dr. Philips rolls her eyes way too dramatically to be considered unbiased to the situation, “I think it’s time you saw other people. It would be healthier for you.”

Okay, never mind. Anyone else’s opinion, “I see other people. I just fucked you didn’t I?”

She smiles and comes over to me, buttoning my shirt, “Yes you did. This girl you are seeing is not good for you. Maybe you should stop seeing her altogether,” she hints.

It’s my turn to laugh, “I tried that, it doesn’t work.”

“Maybe you just need to try harder. If you need anything you know I could be there for you,” she says seductively.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” I choke out, reaching for my coat and pushing her off me to her obvious anger.

Dr. Philips folds her arms over her chest, “Then I guess I’ll see you next week.”

“Great,” I say, pulling my keys from my pocket and heading out to my car. I hop in and drive home, pressing the code to the gate and parking the car. I head up the steps to the door to see Meg sitting in front of it. My jaw drops to the ground as I stare at her.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Typical. Can I say anything without her smart mouth kicking my ass?

“What are you doing here?” I ask her, have concerned, half trying to see up her incredibly short skirt until I notice her tear stained face. It’s one I’m not normally accustomed to and as usually she’s trying to cover it up.

“Can you just let me in?” she says with attitude.

I hesitantly put the keys in the door and open it, “Go ahead.”

I drop my stuff in the hallway, “How did you get past the gate anyway?”

“I memorized the code last time you punched it in.”

She walks in and immediately goes up the stairs. I follow her and watch as she curls up on the bed into the fetal position and doesn’t move. I stare at her for a moment, “Are you alright?”

She shakes her head no.

“What happened?”

She just shakes her head no again.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ve never been okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Because I’m here for you if you want to talk about anything. Anything.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure. I would rather you just not talk,” she bites back.

I take off my shoes and throw my coat to the side, gently sliding onto the bed carefully, “Do you want to spend the night?”

This time she nods, closing her eyes. I cover her with a blanket, “Everything will be okay.”

“You know nothing about life,” she remarks, pulling the blanket around her.

I chuckle, “I know more than you think. My life is just as fucking complicated as yours if not more. I have a lot of shit to deal with.”

“No you don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“I know,” she says, quietly brushing away a tear subtly.

I lean over to her, “Did a guy do something to you?”

She remains still and just bites her nail, which might as well be a confession, “You just tell me who hurt you and I swear I’ll kill him.”

Meg sniffs, “Just stop alright? You are not my boyfriend. I don’t need you to be my knight in shinning amour.”

“Whatever,” I argue, getting more frustrated by the minute.

Meg shifts to get more comfortable and I hand her a pillow for her head, “Have you talked to Aiden yet?”

She turns over, “I can find another place to crash,” she warns.

“Then why didn’t you?” I question, awaiting the answer eagerly to see what excuse she comes up with.

She pauses for a moment, “Night.”

“Night,” I respond, flicking off the light and watching her relax.

I just lay there, wondering what the hell she’s been through to have her on my doorstep when her voice breaks the silence, “Thanks for letting me crash here. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“No problem Meg.”

I wake up only to roll over and find her gone. What a shock. The side of the bed is still warm which means she didn’t take off too long ago. I sigh and get up out of bed yawning. Her stuff is gone which means she’s not coming back. Sometimes I wish I could snap myself out of the trance I get into when she’s around. I know she isn’t right for me and I know she’s so screwed up that nothing at this point could probably bring her back down to reality but something about Meg keeps me coming back.

Trace comes in the apartment and takes one look at me before sighing, “Met up with the temptress huh?”

I run my hands over my newly shaved head, “We were just fooling around.”

“You’re always fooling around, that’s the problem. You can’t go a week without hooking up with that girl. What happened last time when you got involved with her brother? You said that was it and the next week you’re banging her again.”

“I’ve tried to stay away from her, it just doesn’t work.”

“She’s not a fucking drug man. I can’t send you to a detox place to cure you of her, you have to do it yourself.”

I roll my eyes, “No kidding. Thanks for the news update.”

“I’m just saying maybe you should start dating again.”

“I tried that, it didn’t work.”

Trace hands me a cup of coffee, “Here, try and get some of your sanity back.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking the cup from him, “I guess you can just tell by my face when I’ve been with Meg huh?”

“No, she was just sitting on the stoop outside on the street.”

I look up at him to see if he’s kidding and when I see his face, start to pull on my clothes as fast as I can.

________________________________________________________________________

My hands shake as I smoke my cigarette. It used to be enough, this little piece of nicotine. That’s why I started in the first place. Oh sure I had seen after school specials that told you by smoking you cut your life short and it wasn’t cool. They were full of shit. They also used to tell us if you masturbated your hands would become saunas and you would grow up to become a pervert. Well, most at least.

I was fifteen and jaded. I had about all I could handle and picked up one of these things to feel like I could control something. Anything. I felt so out of control that holding something in my hand and deciding when to blow smoke out of my mouth or inhale the addicting substance, it sounded like something for me. However, over the years it has become less soothing and more like it was taking me over than vice versa.

Don’t get me wrong, cigarettes and I share a relationship that cannot be broken, I just find myself needing something stronger, something that can keep reality at an arms length. A man comes strolling up to me and smiles, “You Mega?”

I nod, “That’s me.”

“Your friend said you would be here.”

“That’s why I called him,” I respond sarcastically, standing up and dusting myself off.

“It’s kind of early to be doing this,” he comments, reaching into his pocket.

“I need a fix.”

He laughs, “I understand. Once a junkie always a junkie.”

“I’m not a junkie.”

“Sure you’re not doll, and I’m Eric Clapton.”

“I’m not, I just need something to take my mind off my life.”

“Honey, it’s nine in the morning.”

I sigh, “It’s my first time doing this alright? I just need enough so I don’t slit my wrists tonight alright?”

He looks up startled, “Maybe you need to get help instead of standing here with me.”

“Don’t try and save me alright? No one can do that.”

“Do you need someone to talk to?” he asks, turning his head to the side, sizing me up.

“I can’t talk to anyone.”

“That’s too bad,” he murmurs.

“Look, are you going to give me the shit or what?” I snap.

“Do you have the cash?”

I pull out a wad of bills, “I assume cash is acceptable?”

“Always.”

I extract some bills and shove it into his palm, “Can I have my stuff now?”

The man holds up a couple of needles, “This work for you?”

I nod, “That’ll work.”

“You might want to be careful, for a first timer it’s pretty strong shit.”

“I’m fine,” I say grabbing the bag and turning to walk down the street. Suddenly I feel the man grab my arm and I scream, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Megan Curry, you are under arrest for the purchasing of illegal narcotics with the intent to use such narcotics. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will used against you in a court of law.”

I feel a tear slip down my cheek as a cop car comes around the corner and pulls up to the sidewalk. Handcuffs are put on my wrists and the cold metal clinks together. I look up sullenly to see Justin staring at me as he stands in the doorway shocked. He takes a step out and calls out, “What are you doing to her?”

The cop looks up, “You know her?”

He nods dumbly, “Yeah.”

“She’s going to be brought down to the precinct. They’ll decide what her bail will be.”

“Just call my parents,” I hiss at him as the officer in the driver’s seat get out and opens the door for me as the other officer puts his hand on top of my head as they help me get into the back of the car.

I lay my head back against the back of the seat and hope to God this is all just a bad dream.

________________________________________________________________________

One month later….

I sit in the courtroom watching Meg sit there with her parents. I haven’t really spoken to her since that fateful day of her arrest. Unfortunately, she’s the Paris Hilton of New York. For a first time offense they have her jumping through hoops. She sits there stiffly like everything around her is annoying her. On her right her mother sits with her, pearls proudly displayed over her cleavage. On her left her father sits uncomfortably, looking ashamed that he even has to be here. Apparently a friend of the family, Myles Callaghan defends her.

Now we just have to wait here for the judge to deliver her verdict. Trace didn’t want me to come today, saying I should just make a clean break from her but you know how I listen. Meg looks around and her eyes meet mine for a moment. She pauses and I smile weakly at her as she turns back around. The girl looks so lost it’s not even funny.

A guard comes out from a room by the side of the room, “Please stand.”

We all come to our feet as the judge comes in and sits down in her seat. She’s younger that I would have thought but she certainly doesn’t look like a push over. I watch as Megan rings her hands together and I wish I was standing next to her.

“So Megan Curry, after looking over your file I have decided that jail time will not come into play this time young lady.”

I can see Meg’s shoulders relax a little. The judge looks down at her, “But that doesn’t mean you are getting off completely. I have decided that you will have to have four months of probation and after looking over the comments you made to the officer, I have decided you should see a physiatrist for six months.”

Megan’s mother shifts her glance subtly to her daughter. It’s so cold she could probably freeze hell over. The judge puts her glasses on, “Is there anything you wish to say Megan?”

“Thank you judge,” her weak voice echoes through the court room.

“I hope never to see you here again Megan. Take care of yourself,” she says, hitting the gavel as the bang rings through the room and she exits. Myles smiles at her and hugs her. Meg squirms a little as her father and Myles shake hands.

A guard opens the gate and they walk down the center isle. Meg looks back at me and I wink at her, walking behind her as we all exit the courtroom. Her parents talk to someone and I grab her arm, pulling her to the side, “Hey.”

There are dark circles under her eyes, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

She shrugs, “I’m alright.”

“So that wasn’t so bad.”

Meg tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, “I don’t want to go to see a psychiatrist.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad Meg. Do you know who you have to see?”

She sighs and reaches into her purse, pulling out a piece of paper, “A Dr. Philips.”

My blood runs cold, “What?”

She hands me the paper and I shiver as I read the name over and over. She looks at my face, “You know her?”

“She’s who I go to,” I say, my voice coming out raspy.

“Well don’t worry, I won’t reveal the extent to which we fuck.”

I try to laugh but inside I’m dying, “She’s like a half hour out of the way. Wouldn’t you rather go to someone closer?”

Meg takes the piece of paper back from me, “That’s who the judge recommended for me so that’s who I’m going to go to. I just have to get through the next few months and it’s all over.”

“So how are you doing really?” I ask, trying to take my mind off of the thoughts swirling in my head.

“I’ll be alright.”

“Well if you need someone else to talk to other than Dr. Philips, give me a call.”

She nods, “Okay.”

“Or anything else you need,” I add.

I see a familiar grin spread across her face, “That much I knew.”

“See you Meg.”

________________________________________________________________________

My parents grab me and pull me out the door and into the limo as quickly as possible, “Well that went well I think,” Myles says, buttoning his jacket.

“Yeah, wonderful,” my mother moans, leaning her head against the window.

“It could have been worse,” my father comments, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

“I’m right here,” I yell.

“We know Meg,” Myles says, putting his hand on my knee as I pull it away sharply.

“Megan, Myles is just trying to make you feel better!” my mother shrieks.

“You embarrassed this whole family young lady,” dad says, puffing away.

I reach for the silver handle and as the car comes to a stop at the red light, I pull the lever and jump out of the car, running down the street without looking back as people screaming my name gets fainter the harder I run.

I stop after a few blocks and cut across some people’s back yard until I get to the gallery. I run inside and collapse near my paintings, heaving from lack of air. Heels hitting the floor cause me to spin around and see a woman standing before me, “You must be Megan.”

“Who are you?” I ask, standing up.

“Dr. Philips.”

“Who let you in here?”

“The judge said I needed to survey your life before our session on Monday. I was told this was open to the public.”

I ignore her, “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

She smiles softly, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” she says, moving over to my paintings, “There are some very interesting depictions here.”

“I still don’t want to talk to you.”

Dr. Philips nods, a little too much like an adult pretending that the child throwing a fit will stop if you ignore them, “I’ll see you Monday Megan.”

I watch her walk out and feel my control slipping away from me. I reach for my cigarettes and light up, taking a puff. I can’t take this anymore.