-

I shouldn't be here. Technically, anyways. All my friends are here, and I actually get treated better than most, even though thats just for the sake of my father's stupid pride. But, it's so ridiculously loud in this room that I don't think anyone can hear themselves think, and that's exactly what they want.

I know thats what I want.

I love that even though I shouldn't be here, everyone ignores it. Like this is a fucking normality or something. I'm not twenty one. But, actually, all my friends are older than that. I guess thats what happens when you're never allowed to go to a real school, never allowed to choose your own friends. My mother had some issue about me being corrupted as a child so she kept me from the public school system. Which I guess in a way sounds pretty legit, right? Wrong. Not when said mother thinks socialization should occur in the biggest, ritziest, and most popular nightclub in Manhattan.

No one ever accused my mother of being in her right mind, though.

I have to admit though, I've grown fond of this little place. You've never experienced true entertainment until you've seen the most popular of celebrities get completely and totally obliterated and make complete fools out of themselves. Yes, Page Six is very kind to the little spot my parents have created here in downtown New York. We get weekly, if not daily mentions in the New York Post and in turn, one of their little spies is always on the guest list for that evening. You would think that the celebrities would have maybe caught on to this by now, but like I said, they get completely shitfaced and wasted out of their skulls. A lot of them are here multiple times a week and they probably couldn't recall what the interior of the nightclub looks like if you asked them to describe it.

But, the most important part of this deal that my father made was to make sure that his daughter is never mentioned at all. Funny, that part of the deal actually extends to most aspects of my relationship with my parents.


Wait in line
'Til your time
Ticking clock
Everyone stop

Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me

Do you believe
What you see
There doesn't seem to be
Anyone else who agrees with me

* * *

Every time I come here, I see her. Always in the same spot, surrounded by the same people. I swear she just watches people, with this little look in her eyes like she knows something the rest of us don't. Maybe she's the only sober person in the room, I don't know? She never gets up either. Just sits there, with her little glass of whatever she's always drinking and she barely talks to anyone. Occasionally she'll turn her head to whisper in the dark Latina girl who is always by her side's ear. Then that chick will bust out in the most hysterical laughter. And then the girl will smile, just a little, and then it fades and it's like the whole scene never even happened.

I don't have a fucking clue who she is, but Holy shit she's distracting. She's got a nice smile, even though it doesn't ever reach her eyes and she's pretty. Not the most beautiful girl in the entire world, but honestly, it doesn't matter. I don't think its even about that. Its about the fact that no matter how many times I tell myself when I walk through the door to this damn club that I will not spend the evening staring at her, I can't help it.

I should be a fucking man and go talk to her, but I'm afraid I'll upset the cycle. No one ever goes over there, and none of them ever move from their spot. She's got this aqua blue dress on tonight that matches her eye color and...

Holy shit she just saw me. I just got caught.

She gives me the tiniest of smiles, smaller than the one she gives her laughing friend and turns her head away from me. I think I may have even saw her blush a little, but I could be wrong. I bet it's just the lighting. She doesn't strike me as one who blushes.

Do you believe
What you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see


* * *

Well. That was quite interesting. When I was twelve I would have had a minor stroke at the idea of Justin Timberlake checking me out. However, after seeing him in the disgusting state of drunkenness that I have, it's not so appealing. Especially when the past her prime and notoriously possessive movie star girlfriend is right next to him. Some guy. No wonder the chick's got a iron grip hold on her man.

Still, though, I can't help but be a little flattered. Most of those sort of people don't ever notice me, and if they do, it's just a 'who the fuck is that chick' look. I've turned myself away from Mr. Pop Star's wandering eyes and now I can't see the room. The reason I picked this spot was so that I could have a prime viewing experience of the disasters that go down every night here. Staring at Robert and Jen make out though, is definitely less interesting and surprisingly more nauseating.

I think I may actually go to the bar. I stand up carefully, allowing myself to adjust to my heels again and feel everyone around me sort of pause.

"Co, where are you going?" Sasha asks me from her seated position. Who knew getting up would constitute a look like I've got three heads?

"To the bar," I answer, as nonchalantly as possible even though I'm a little nervous myself. I don't like to break routine. I was safe in my spot. And I do in fact notice the pair of eyes set on me from across the room.

Nine to five
Living lies
Everyday
Stealing time

Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

Do you believe
What you feel
It doesn't seem to be
Anybody else who agrees with me


* * *

Everybody says I have the hugest ego on the planet and I'm starting to believe it because for a second there, I thought she was leaving because of me. But she just went to the bar, and before I even know what the fuck I'm doing I'm leaning Cameron's stoned ass up against the other wall while I get up to follow this girl. I've just decided that I will not leave tonight without getting at least her name, if not more than that.

I make my way up behind her as she leans quietly over the end of the bar. I noticed the way the staff clamors to get her her drink and I wonder if she's royalty or something. Maybe thats why she's always up in the corner. And maybe she doesn't speak English and maybe...

"Excuse me," she says quietly, only glancing up at me for a second before her eyes focus on something over my shoulder and she tries to slip her way through the people. I feel her hip brush mine and without thinking I'm grabbing for her wrist.

"Wait a second," I yell over the loud blaring beat of whatever song is playing, and I pretend not to notice her stunned expression. She definitely wasn't expecting me to do that. "What's your name?"

Her eyes narrow a bit. "Why do you wanna know?"

I like her voice, and it distracts me as I try to think of something not too fucking cheesy to say. Nothing comes to mind and talking to her for 1.5 seconds has told me that she doesn't like bullshit so I guess I'm going for honesty here. "I was just curious, you're always here, up in that corner booth and I've always wondered who you are."

She looks like she might laugh but instead just pulls her wrist away before reaching her other hand out to mine. "I'm Cosette. And I'm always up in that corner booth because my father owns this place."

"Justin," I answer, shaking her hand.

Now she does laugh. "I know that."

"Just being polite," I respond, easily putting on the charm for her. She's cute.

Cosette nods a little, "Well, it was nice to meet you Justin, but I should be going."

"Oh, gotta get back to the corner then huh?" I say, trying to joke with her.

"Uh, yeah," she answers flatly, and for a moment I'm worried I've offended her. "Or, I see your delightful girlfriend heading this way and she doesn't look pleased, so I'm gonna go."

I turn to see Cameron stomping towards us, looking flaming mad. Great.

"Good luck," Cosette laughs, patting my arm lightly.

Within seconds I go from the strange girl's charming laugh to my girlfriend's screeching in my ear.

Do you believe
What you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see


* * *

I didn't expect him to come back here tonight. Not with the scene Ms. Diaz put him through the previous evening. I would have openly laughed if I hadn't felt so damn bad for the guy. She only let up to tell him to gather the group they came with and to drag him out of there. What's amazing though, is that was something he almost looked used to. Who would want that sort of thing to become a common occurrence?

You know how men always say they'll never understand women? I can't really say that I blame them.

Honestly, I'm finding it difficult not to stare at him because this time he clearly left the girlfriend at home or wherever. He seems to be pretty much by himself, which is completely unnatural for celebrities. Once you have a hit album or movie its like against the law to go out by yourself or something. And anyways, who comes to a nightclub like this by them self? I've got the sinking feeling that this has got something to do with me, because he's got his eyes locked on where I should be, where I normally am, and looks perplexed to find that I'm in fact not there.

I felt like being alone tonight, too.

Apparently, thats not to be when his gaze finally settles on me and I'm spotted. We've both turned our heads away quickly so as not to be caught staring at the other, and I can feel my face getting red. I guess I am still twelve years old, and being looked at by Justin Timberlake affects me. I can't turn to see if he's headed this way but I'm sure he is. Maybe I'm paranoid but its like I can feel him getting closer.

I'll shout and I'll scream
But I'd rather not have seen
And I'll hide away
For another day


* * *

"A change of scenery?"

Her honey colored hair falls to the side as she turns to face me. "I guess."

She's turned back around again and I take this as my cue to sit by her. Her back is to the club's main floor and instead she's focusing her eyes out the window, looking out at the Manhattan landscape.

"What are you doing here? And by yourself?"

I don't know how to answer her, because the truth is not an option so I ignore her question and give her a look instead. The kind of look that says 'what do you mean what am I doing here?'

"It's just weird. Normally people like you aren't out by themselves," she answers my look, and I'm a little struck by the judgment. Not that she's entirely wrong, but I wonder where the sweet girl I met last night went. I still don't think this was a mistake, though. Even if I am going to hear it later.

"People like me?" I ask, willing her to elaborate. She seems to be in a bit of a mood. It's interesting.

She ignores my question this time, and throws me a look. She's saying, 'you know what the fuck I'm talking about.'

I'm not gonna give up that easy, though. "Cosette?"

"Yes, Justin?"

Here goes nothing. "You wanna get out of here?"

Do you believe
What you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see



* * *

Is this boy fucking serious right now? I'm resisting the urge to slap him across the face only because theres no way in hell the Page Six mole watching our conversation with great interest is going to ignore that. My father has paid them off well enough for them to know if a celebrity talks to me its not to be mentioned. One time Lindsay Lohan tried to start a fight with me 'cause she wanted my table but thats completely beside the point. Justin Timberlake is exactly as arrogant as everyone makes him out to be. And just when I was starting to think he might be cool.

"You're joking right?" I ask, my tone not the kindest. What the hell do I look like? I'm certainly not a fucking groupie.

His mouth turns up in a smile at my disgusted look and he chuckles at bit. "I didn't mean anything like that. Just thought we could go somewhere not so fucking loud."

Now that I've completely embarrassed myself, I'm reminded of why I don't associate with these people at all. My friends, if you could call them that, know not to make me feel awkward. I don't like it. My face gets all red like I'm positive it is right now and I stumble over my words. Which is why I'm not answering.

"Oh."

"Yeah," he's laughing again, and even though I'm thoroughly humiliated right now for even assuming that someone like him would want me, I can't help but note that I like his laugh. It's real, and I don't find a lot of that anymore.

"You thought I was just tryin' to take you home with me?" he asks, his laughter quieting and a light twang affects his speech. Funny, I always assumed he was from LA or something like that. I don't keep up with those sort of facts too much though, I guess.

Now that I think of it, that was very stupid of me and before I know it, I'm laughing at myself. This guy's got a girlfriend and everything and here I am assuming he wants to sleep with me. Little old me. Pop stars don't want me.

I can only nod my agreement and he stands from his place next to me. "Well are you coming or not?"

Oh what the hell. Its not like I have anything better to do.

-
Today should be a special day. For most adolescents, this birthday in particular is important, signifying the end of childhood. You become legal, you can buy cigarettes and porn, or you can risk your life in the armed services if you so choose. A girl's 18th birthday is something that should be looked forward to and celebrated. Mine is not.

I've been dreading July 21st, 2006 since July 21st, 2005.

Danielle is leaving me today.

Because my mother could never be bothered to look after me or raise me to be a proper lady by herself, she hired Danielle when I was five to be my nanny and tutor. That was around the same time she decided to ruin my life by cutting me off from all civilization, but I digress.

In actuality, Danielle became my only real friend and maternal figure which is even more depressing when I remember that she was on the payroll. Its a small comfort to know that she did in fact genuinely like me, and doesn't want to move across the country, either. But now, since I've become of age, suddenly I don't need her anymore. I'll never understand how yesterday I did, but today the legal system deems that I don't, and I can't help but feel I'm losing the only real family I've ever had.

I don't want to get out of bed today.

I think that maybe if I just shut my eyes long enough, I'll sleep the entire day away and completely miss it, and it will be like it never happened. She won't really have to go. That plan is ruined though when I heard her familiar tap on my bedroom door. I don't respond.

"Cosette," Danielle shouts through the thick wooden door. "It's 12:30 in the afternoon, and I know you're awake in there."

I sigh loudly when she enters the room. So much for pretending to be asleep.

When I turn to face her, her brown eyes mirror the sadness in my own. She doesn't want to go, I continue to tell myself, but my mother hasn't given her much of a choice. She can't afford to stay in New York City without pay, and after being with me so long and not having much recent experience with small children, she's having a hard time finding work.

Some celebrity who can't control their teenage son hired her last week and she'll be leaving for Los Angeles today. On my birthday.

"Come on, you're gonna be late," she tells me before exiting the room quietly.

She knows not to wish me a happy birthday.

I think I'll go home and mull this over
Before I cram it down my throat
At long last it's crashed, it's colossal mass
Has broken up into bits in my moat.

Lift the mattress off the floor
Walk the cramps off
Go meander in the cold
Hail to your dark skin
Hiding the fact you're dead again
Underneath the power lines seeking shade
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason


* * *

I can't believe I'm here again. This is the third time this week, but after seeing her Thursday and Friday night it's like I've got to get my Saturday fix.

Cosette Marciano is probably one of the strangest people I've ever met, but I guess that's why I like her. After we left the club last night she took me up to the rooftop of one of the many buildings her father owns and we just talked. It was weird 'cause I can't remember the last time I've ever done anything like that, ya know? Just, hanging out with someone. Someone who's not paid to be around me or related to me, or been with me since I was fucking fourteen. And, we didn't even talk about anything in particular, just, I don't know. Stuff.

She didn't ask about my music, or anything pertaining directly to me, and I guess I should have gotten the fucking hint. But I was so curious about her. The only things we clearly couldn't talk about were any topics related to her.

I'd ask where she went to school, and she'd just fucking ignore me and shoot off some random ass fact. And she'd say, "There are much more important things to know about than me."

I've never known anyone who knows all this random shit but she's clearly smart which I guess kind of surprised me. A girl who is rich, and pretty, and spends all her damn time in a nightclub automatically brings to mind someone like Paris Hilton, but Cosette is just fucking weird.

I like her though, I do.

I learned the capitol city of Uganda, and the population of Saudi Arabia (I've already forgotten both). That having a widow's peak or brown eyes is a dominant trait, and so is some fucked up disease called Progeria even though it's rare. I guess it makes kids age into old people, and personally, that sounds like some science fiction shit to me but she promised me it was real. She even told me I could look it up if I wanted, but I didn't feel the need. I guess in a small way, I sort of trust her. We have alot more in common than she thinks.

Normally I like a girl to be confident but theres something slightly endearing about her total lack of self-esteem. Maybe I'm so used to girls like Cameron that anything different is kind of like a shock to the system. Cosette's not one of those 'Oh, I'm so ugly, I'm so fat' girls, and she's not overly obvious about the fact that she doesn't think highly of herself. She doesn't walk with her head down or her shoulders slumped, it's just kind of there. Like its always been there and always will be. I wonder if anyone else notices this, or its just me.

I'm not sure how long we spent out on that rooftop last night, just that I had one of the best conversations I've had with anyone in a long time. And I made her laugh, that has to count for something right?

Entering the dimly lit VIP area of the club, I notice Cosette's group of friends in their usual place up in the corner, but she's not there. Its early, so I decide to wait, even though Tiny is getting annoyed with me. My security was none too pleased when I skipped out on them without any warning last night, not too mention the earful I heard from my girlfriend when I returned early in the morning. Cameron's got this voice on her, when she gets mad it's like a jet taking off next to your ear. Of course, she accused me of cheating, and brought up the fact that once in a while she "expects" it, but not when she's actually in town.

My relationship gets more fucked up everytime I think about it, so I don't. I just think about Cosette and how her voice is soft and quiet. I bet it wouldn't even bother me to hear her yelling, if just to get some kind of emotion out of her. No one has any idea why I come here if not to get plastered, but I'd rather no one know about Cosette. On top of the fact that I'm saving myself from a huge headache, I have so little to myself anymore that it'd be nice to have a friend who is just my own.

It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should fold
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped
And the whole mess of roads we're now on.


* * *

This isn't totally predictable or anything. You would think that on my birthday we would decide to do something different. But, my dear friends, thought that there was no better way to celebrate little old me becoming legal than partying. At my father's club. Even if I'm here at least four nights a week, and I've spent my 15th, 16th, and 17th birthdays here as well. A little tradition, I guess, if you ignore the fact that there'll be no celebrating for me, nothing different than any other night. I really don't think my opinion matters much to anyone, but whatever. It's better than being by myself.

Then I'd have to remember that the only person who even remotely cared at all left this afternoon. Danielle bought me a cupcake from my favorite bakery and I ate in the car on the way to the airport. My driver Steven took us, and I think he'll miss Danielle a little, too. My parents couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye to the woman they've employed for over 13 years. It didn't bother Danielle, I know she didn't like them much, but they could be a little more polite, as they are always asking me to be.

Steven waited for me until Danielle's flight took off and didn't say anything when I cried the whole way back to our penthouse. He did warn me though, when we were a couple of blocks away so I could fix my makeup.

By the time I got home at four, my mother, Cecile was already completely drunk. No better excuse to drink than a birthday, I guess.

I look to the clock in my ornately decorated bedroom to see that its nearly 11:00 and I'm completely positive she's passed out.

"Shit," I hiss under my breath. I'm already late.

Rolling my shoulders to get rid of the tension, I decide it doesn't matter. Sasha and the others won't notice I'm not there unless they're actually getting charged for drinks in my absence. I quickly flip open my cell, it's 11:02. No texts or missed calls. Drinks are definitely on me tonight.

I allow myself one small sigh to relieve the disappointed feeling in my chest. No matter how many times I try to tell myself how lucky I am, it never seems to sink it. Maybe I am thick-headed like my mother. Thats what my dad always says, anyway.

I wish I had told Justin about my birthday. I wonder if he would have cared.


Hold your glass up, hold it in
Never betray the way you've always known it is.
One day I'll be wondering how
I got so old just wondering how
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow.

This is way beyond my remote concern
Of being condescending

-



I feel like I've been waiting here forever when I finally see her enter through the back door. Its to the point where I'm so antsy I don't even care how desperate it looks for me to be approaching her the second she walks in. Tiny's like a big ass shadow, right behind me and I almost want to tell him to back off, but I don't. He's worried I'm just gonna take off again and I guess I really don't blame him. Plus, its way easier to get myself through this crowd of people with him next to me. Unfortunately for her, Cosette doesn't have the same luck with the crowd and I'm able to catch her just before she's about to climb the stairs to her little corner.

I quickly grab her arm, and I definitely just scared her half to death. "Hey."

"Hi," she looks me over before her eyes fall on my hand where I've got her forearm in a death grip. "I've stopped moving. You can let go now."

I apologize but don't let go and pull her away from the stairs without asking. "Come hang out with me, I promise I'm more fun than them."

Her eyes follow my line of vision to those people that are supposed to be waiting for her up in that booth. They look like a bunch of assholes to me. She contemplates my offer for a second, staring off. No one even looks up and she seems a little sad when she nods in agreement. "Okay."

We make it to the table I've had set aside all night and I try not to ask her where the fuck she's been. Its really none of my business, and its not like she said she would meet me here but I guess I'm just curious. I wonder what she does, what shes like when shes not here. I look at her closely and I wonder what she looks like without all that makeup on and shit. Its not that shes got an obscene amount of it on her face, but I've always preferred when women are more natural looking. Cosette is delicate, even her name, like I could break her or something.

She scoots over towards me and taps my arm like she doesn't already have my full attention. "Justin, who's that?"

She's motioning towards Tiny who seems to wanna ask me the same question about her. "Thats my bodyguard Tiny," I tell her, and wave him over.

"Tiny, this is Cosette Marciano."

He nods and extends his hand, which she takes with a smile. "Nice to meet you, I'm Cosette."

She's very polite, it almost surprises me and I know my mother would like this girl. Once Tiny's convinced she's not some groupie I've picked up he excuses himself to go hang in the background. He knows me too damn well.

I look over at Cosette and she's smiling. It just barely hits her eyes. "Is his name really Tiny?"

"Nah, it's Mike," I laugh, she does too and pretty soon we're both hunched over and I'm not exactly sure why. It wasn't that funny. When we both calm down a little one of the waitresses stops by to ask us if we need anything. Cosette politely declines while I order myself another Jack and Coke.

The waitress- Leslie, her name tag says, pauses and smiles at Cosette. "Oh and happy birthday, Miss Marciano."

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

I can't take my eyes off of you...

* * *

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I know she was just trying to be nice but fuck! Why did she have to say that?

"It's your birthday?" He's so pretty its annoying. His face is a little red from all the alcohol he's had and that doesn't even bother me 'cause his eyes are so blue.

"Yeah," I nod, not wanting him to think it's like a big fucking deal or anything. My family, and my friends, all of whom have ignored me today have proven that its not a big deal at all. God, please don't ask me how old I am.

"Let me guess," he says, making a show of being in thought for about three seconds. "You're twenty-three."

"Um, nope." Shit. And here I am hoping that somehow he knows I'm just eighteen and he just doesn't care. Oh my God, please don't make me lie to him.

"Am I close?" He's got this mischievous grin like he's enjoying this game. God doesn't like me today so I'll stop asking him for favors. I can't tell him the truth, even though I know I should.

Here goes nothing. "Very close, I'm twenty-two."

It was almost too easy. That actually sounded believable and he bought it because he's calling the waitress back to get me a drink. I can tell he's sort of excited, I don't know why really, but I don't want to tell him I hate alcohol and never touch the stuff. I highly doubt he'd be offering if he didn't think I was at least 21, and it'd be way too difficult to explain how much I detest drinking and everything that goes along with it. I can't believe I'm actually going to have to drink that shit. Alcohol ruins lives and I've always promised myself I'd never indulge in it. He wouldn't understand that, though.

Even though Leslie the waitress and secret revealer gives me a strange look when she takes my order for a Cosmo (Sasha gets those a lot and they seem okay) she knows better than to argue with the owner's daughter. When Justin throws his arm around my shoulder I almost feel like this whole thing might be worth it. He wouldn't be doing that if he knew I was seven years younger than him. I don't want him to think I'm just a kid.

"I can't believe its your birthday and you didn't say anything," he whispers against my ear and he seems a little drunk.

I cringe. If only he knew.

The worst part about all of this is that I've known Justin three days and I like him. He's a cool guy. It does help that he's very nice to look at, but I know he would never want me so that not even an option. We could have been friends though, he seems like he would be a really great friend to have.

It's just too bad that I've only known him three days and have already ruined any chance of us being friends.

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial

I can't take my eyes off of you...

* * *

I've had way more to drink tonight that I had originally planned and I don't like it because I know she's more than sober. She's barely taken two sips of that fruity drink she got and I'm finding it hard to keep my eyes all the way open and focused in the general direction of her face. Her legs look soft and she has this freckle right above her knee and it's distracting me from our conversation. I don't know how the hell I got myself so fucked up, it just happened, I swear.

I just wanted her to have a good time and have fun, I don't think she has a lot of that. She doesn't seem too amused at my sloppiness though, so I order myself a cappuccino that I hope will help somewhat and I'm gonna try to be normal. I promise.

"So tell me about you." That didn't really make a whole lot of sense but its been on my mind since I met her, it only seemed natural to ask. Maybe I would have known not to do that if I had been sober but what can you do?

Cosette eyes me wearily before taking another tiny sip from her drink. "Um, what do you want to know?"

She grimaces a little when she swallows. "Is there something wrong with your drink? We can get you a new one--"

"Oh no," she interrupts me, taking a bigger gulp of the pinkish fluid. "This is fine."

I'm gonna ignore the odd look she had on her face when she said that. Or maybe not. "You make a lot of faces, you know."

And there she goes, another face. "What are you talking about?"

"See, you did it again," I laugh, "Another one I haven't seen before."

Shes just looking at me. I lean in and before I can kiss her she turns her head so I end up kissing the place where her jaw meets her neck instead. She frowns and slides the last of my Jack Daniels away from me. "I think thats enough for you."

I couldn't tell you the last time I got turned down but it fucking sucks. I really thought for a second there she would let me kiss her, but obviously I misread that whole situation. To be honest, its not very often that I have to actually figure out if a girl wants me to kiss her, its just kind of obvious. Maybe I suck at that, reading signals or whatever, but I'm pretty sure she wanted me to kiss her.

Her eyes are locked on mine, and now she looks like she's expecting some kind of apology but she's definitely not going to get one. I'm a gentlemen but I don't apologize when I'm not sorry. "Can I have your number?"

"No," she snaps, "You have a girlfriend."

Then it makes sense. She did want me to kiss her, but she remembered the whole girlfriend thing. That's admirable, I guess. "We'll just be friends, then, I mean."

I hope she buys that. I do notice the way she seems to smile a little when I tell her we'll be friends. This girl is fucking confusing, but I like it. With some women, everything is so cut and dry, and they're boring. Cameron is boring. In the back of my mind, I know I'm getting into something that may be a lot more complicated that what I can deal with but right now I don't give a fuck. I want her.

Funny thing though, in the back of my head, I know she's not really that interested in me and I don't know why.

"Are you gay?" I didn't think those moments in movies existed where you're like, 'oh shit, did I just say that out loud?' But I'm pretty sure that just happened so I guess thats real.

"What?" The look on her face is priceless, and if I had a camera I would take a picture of it. She's adorable.

"Uh, what I meant was, you don't really seem to be too interested in guys."

I think she's about to laugh at me. "You're right. I'm not."

I can't take my eyes off her.

"I'm not a lesbian," she tells me firmly.

I nod. "I know that."

We sit in silence after that awkwardness until she grabs my phone which I've been playing with under the table. She shocks the hell out of me when she enters her number in my address book and not because my phone is complicated. I didn't expect something like that from her.

"There, you have my number," she says as quietly as the loud music will allow.

"You want mine?"

She shakes her head. "No. I gotta go home now."

Her lips brush my cheek and she's halfway across the room before I even notice she's no longer beside me.

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you...

-

Bat your eyes girl
Be otherworldly
Count your blessings
Seduce a stranger
What's so wrong with
Being happy?
Kudos to those who
See through sickness
Yeah

Whenever my father sets foot in the perimeter of space that has been deemed 'mine' you know that it's something big. He didn't knock, not that I would expect him to, but when my door flew open to reveal Edward marching into my bedroom I was a little shocked.

After about two minutes of him not saying anything I'm afraid someone may have died. You see, my father likes to spend as little time with me as necessary, he doesn't just hang around like this. Any situation involving me, well, my dad just wants nothing to do with so this is highly unusual. Maybe my mother finally drank herself to death. After all, if given the choice she would always be the bearer of bad news. She just loves that sort of shit. Anyway, this is really fucking awkward and I wish he would hurry up and tell me what the hell is going on so he'll leave and I can go back to sleep. I was up late last night on the phone.

He's pacing back and fourth a bit like Danielle used to when she was pissed off at me, except she never wore Armani suits just for the hell of it. I think my father may sleep in a suit. I can't be sure though, he never comes home at night.

When he finally turns to look at me, I'm sure he's finally gonna talk but he just looks at me with disgust. Like I'm some vile creature wasting air and space or something. So what if it's three in the afternoon and I'm still in bed? It was my birthday last night.

Oh right, he doesn't acknowledge that.

I just want to go back to sleep so I break the silence. "What?"

For an alright-looking old man he sure can make an ugly face. "I don't ask a lot of you, Cosette."

I hate that tone. It's like that fake voice he uses when he tries to act like a semi-parent, and I know I've done something wrong. And he won't be able to act even remotely like a father for more than that sentence, I'm sure that took some serious effort. I just know the raging is coming. In 5...4...3...2...

"You better not be sleeping with that tabloid trash!"

My mind goes blank and I'm instantly confused. That was not at all what I was expecting and I'm positive it shows on my face. Neither of my parents have ever taken an interest in what I do as far as dating or anything goes. Secretly I've wondered if my dad would pimp me out to his friends if he could get away with it. Old men check me out a lot, it's gross.

I haven't responded yet and obviously to Edward that is just unacceptable so he thrusts what looks to be today's paper in my face, a big picture of Justin leaving our club on the page he's turned to. After wiggling it in front of my face as if I'm some kind of idiot who didn't see it in my face the first time, he pulls it back and begins to read from what is no doubt the gossip section. "Justin Timberlake was spotted sans girlfriend Cameron Diaz at Club Marc in New York City on both Saturday and Sunday night in the company of a mystery girl. The two were seen looking quite cozy on Sunday evening sharing drinks into the wee hours of the morning."

He just stares at me and I don't say anything. I already know what happened.

"Do you have any idea how much it cost me to keep your name out of that article?" His face is flaming red and I'm a little afraid. He gets like this with my mother and it never turns out good.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, knowing it won't be anything to him. The sentiment doesn't mean much to me anymore either, it just might keep me from getting hit.

"Let's just get one thing straight," he snarls, pointing his finger in my face. "You're eighteen now, and finished with school. I don't owe you anything.”

He pauses for a moment, maybe to contemplate on how to make me feel even more like shit. If at all possible, his voice is even colder when he continues. “You do as I say, or I'll throw you out so fast you won't know what hit you."

Tears are rolling down my cheeks, not because his words hurt but because I can't believe this is my life.


"You will not embarrass me by fucking around with those kinds of people! Haven't you done enough to me?"

The torrent of "I hate you"'s and "You ruined everything"'s that usually follow don't come and he storms out slamming my door so hard a nearby frame falls slanted on the wall. It's a picture of my parents and I when I was a baby, when they pretended they were happy. Lydie is in the background. She was before my mother, and she was the one who really ruined everything, but you could never tell my father that.

Even with my father's terrifying rant I can't help but be grateful that he prevented my name from being printed. What if they had said my age, as they so often do in those stupid articles--and what if Justin had somehow seen?

I know it's sort of ridiculous for me to be as attached to Justin as I already am. You would think that the certain circumstances in my situation would cause me to be sort of distant or whatever, but I'm not. At least, I don't think I am. I just want friends, really.

I guess I can call Justin a friend. About ten minutes into my ride home last night he called the number I gave him to "make sure it was correct." I still can't believe I actually gave him my phone number, I don't usually ever do that and plus it was like inviting trouble but I can't take it back now.

We talked about random shit for awhile, but then he started asking me personal questions again. I wish he wouldn't do that. I haven't known him long, but its so easy to talk to him when he's not trying to make me tell him things I don't want to. It's so annoying too because he doesn't want to know the truth, even though he thinks he does, if that makes any sense at all?

Since I wouldn't budge, he decided to give me his life story in its entirety, no Cliff's Note's version here. I'm not sure why he felt compelled to do this, but I suspect that he thought that maybe I would give up some info in return. He was also fairly smashed, which was funny to listen to. I usually hate drunk people, but I guess he's one of the few who make it seem fun. Maybe it's people like him that make people like my mother want to drink, always looking for that good time. It turns out though, by the time he was done with his long winded speech he had to go to bed to catch a flight early this morning. It was nice to just listen to him though, I didn't have to think about anything bad.

I kind of wish I was him. Is that wrong?

I wish that things didn't have to be so fucking complicated, that I could just tell the truth every once in a while or something. I wish I hadn't lied to him. I just know he wouldn't give me the time of day if he had known I was just a teenager. He wouldn't give me the time of day if he had any idea of the mess that is my existence. He'd say, "Wow, you're pretty fucked up-- see ya." And that'd be that. He'd be just like everyone else.

So what am I supposed to do? The truth doesn't work, so you lie. That's all.

I think I'll call Danielle.

She woke in the morning
She knew that her life
Had passed her by
She called out a warning
Don't ever let life pass you by


* * *

I love planes. The slightly muffled sound it gives to just about everything is amazing when being confined in a small space with a pissed off female. Cameron and I aren't doing so well, in case you didn't know. I always promised myself I wouldn't do this, hold on to the last threads of a long damaged relationship, but I really don't like hurting people. The world may think I'm an arrogant ass, but I do care about people besides myself.

Really, I don't even understand the issue here. We're not in love anymore. I don't think Cameron even likes me as a human being anymore, not that I blame her. I'm not liking myself too much right now either. I think it's that territorial “He's mine, Bitch,” thing that women have in their DNA.

I tried to kiss Cosette last night. I didn't succeed, she wouldn't let me, but I got some neck action kind of by accident. Being drunk is no excuse though, I wouldn't let others use it as one so I'm not that big of a prick to say the rules don't apply to me. The whole idea of cheating is what I hate, you know, thinking of ways to be with someone else when you shouldn't be. That was me last night. Thinking of ways I could get someone who's not my girlfriend to kiss me.

As if that whole deal wasn't bad enough I had to go and call her last night. I think I bored the shit out of her but whatever. I can't wait to see her again.

Next time I might not even feel guilty.

I suggest we
Learn to love ourselves
Before it's made illegal
When will we learn
When will we change
Just in time to see it
All come down

Those left standing
Will make millions
Writing books on ways
It should have been

* * *

That went well.

It's been like fucking two minutes and Danielle is already fucking in love with her life over there. The weather is beautiful, the people are nice, everything is just fucking peachy! I was hoping she would say she hated it and she was over there miserable just like me. I don't even think she misses me.

Since I hung up the phone about five minutes ago I've been sobbing like a two year old. I know no one's in hearing range so I don't really care that I'm being obnoxiously loud and I probably look like hell. No one will see me.

After the huge Daddy meltdown I wanted to do what I've always done, run to my best friend. She always understands. But today I couldn't, and not 'cause shes on the other side of the country. Danielle was just so happy, and I couldn't ruin it. From the minute she picked up the phone I could hear the cheer in her voice that she had been missing working with me. It must be hard to be happy when the only person you're around is so miserable all the time. Maybe that's why no one likes me, I'm just a downer.

The more I think about it the more I cry so I try to block it out. I know I should be happy for her, and the idea does make my sobs soften a bit. I really shouldn't be so selfish, my life's not terrible. Danielle always used to remind me that it could be worse, and I guess it could. I could be in a field somewhere sobbing and alone and that would be worse. Taking a deep breath I wipe my eyes and try to calm myself down. Looking at myself in the mirror I can't help but laugh at my reflection. I get really blotchy and stuff when I cry and my eyes look all swollen, with makeup running down my cheeks. Not to mention my roots are horrendous. I make a mental note to make an appointment with Rita at the Salon and begin to wipe the mascara from my face.

Then my phone rings.



She woke in the morning
She knew that her life
Had passed her by
She called out a warning
Don't ever let life pass you by

Hey, are you lonely?
Has summer gone so slowly?
We found the ground
And that damage was done
It's cold as you fade into the sun
Where'd you go? To me?

I know it's stupid that I'm calling her again already but I don't really care. I feel like calling someone, and I feel like talking to her. I'm not hurting anyone by having a phone conversation with a friend, right? So whats the problem? Its strange for me to be like this, questioning every little fucking thing I do. This isn't me at all, but I've been acting weird lately, I know I have. I don't want to be completely fucking gay and say that it's because of Cosette but I know she's at least part of it. There's just something about her...

"Hello?"

I pause for a second, not sure I dialed the right number. It doesn't sound like her very much at all. "Cosette?"

She's sniffling. "Yeah?"

"Are you alright?" The concern in my voice scares the shit out of me. Of course its natural to be a little freaked out when theres a female crying but I just sounded like I actually cared. Hmm.

"What?" She coughs a little, clearing her throat, "Oh yeah, I'm fine."

Her voice is raspy and worn and any human being could hear that she's not fine but I don't bother pressing the issue because well, I know she's not going to tell me. Practically begging for information from a girl is not something I'm used to and it's not good for the ego. Normally, women beg me to listen to their problems, like I can solve them or something. I kind of figure it comes with the territory of the sort of music I'm doing. You can't write songs like Take It From Here and Let's Take A Ride without some women thinking it's anything more than catchy lyrics and melodies. They truly believe if I was their man I would just be the most perfect man in the whole world, their dream guy. But thats all it is, a dream. Cosette doesn't treat me like a dream.

"Um, Justin? You there?"

Her voice breaks through my little train of thought and I chuckle to myself wondering how long we sat in silence on the phone for. "Yeah, I'm here. I was just calling because..."

This is the part I probably should have thought of before I picked up the phone. See, like I was saying, Cosette doesn't seem to think of me as any kind of demi-God or whatever so I actually have to not make a complete fool of myself around her. Getting women has always been simple for me, I don't even have to say a word most of the time so that's what I'm used to. Anyone that requires me to put a bit of effort in is difficult simply because I'm not used to it.

"Because...?" she trails off, mocking me. I smile a little to myself because I know I just made her laugh. And she sounded like she needed it.

"'Cause I knew you were upset or whatever," I tell her, "I felt it was my duty to cheer you up."

She laughs loudly and I like the sound. She has a sweet, genuine laugh. Thats kind of how I would describe her, genuine.

So what if you catch me,
Where would we land?
In somebody's life
For taking his hands
Sing to me hope as she's
Thrown on the sand
All of your work
Is rated again
Where to go?


* * * * *

"How can you possibly like the Red Sox? It only took them, what? Eighty-five million years to actually win?"

I've lived in New York my whole life. It's sacreligious to not love the Yankees. To be honest, I prefer football, but I have to admit this mindless banter over which team is better has gotten my mind off of a lot of things. I've been on the phone with Justin for maybe 45 minutes and already I feel a hundred times better. He really needs to call anytime my dad decides to fly off the handle.

"Way to exaggerate Miss Marciano, and to think I thought you were a relatively honest person," he chuckles deep in his throat and I don't breathe for a moment. I know he's just joking but the truth, ironically enough, hits home and I feel guilty all over again.

I don't say anything in return and its obvious he notices. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No--," I say quickly, but I can't finish before theres a knock on my door. My mother.

"You sure? I didn't mean to upset you," he tells me sincerely and I smile.

"No, it's ok. I just have to go."

"Oh," I can hear the disappointment in his voice. "Alright then, I guess I'll talk to you later?"

Cecile is already in the doorway, looking very annoyed and tapping her foot. Jesus, the woman knows I have no friends, and I never talk on the phone but God forbid she have to wait more than two seconds to tell me whatever pointless gossip she wants to share with me. "Yeah, yeah, bye Jus--"

"I'm gonna call you later and you're gonna tell me what had you so upset earlier, okay?"

No way in hell is that gonna happen but I have to get off the phone. "Okay, I will. Bye."

I hit end on the phone and turn to face my mom. If Cecile was not the mess I know she is I might think she was pretty, beautiful even. I inherited her lean frame and coloring but I think she has more of a regal look than I do. She can look kind of scary though, like right now.

"Who was that?" Her voice is cold, not like a parent speaking to a child but like she was talking to a stranger.

Playing dumb gives me time to think up a good answer. Besides, she thinks I'm an idiot anyway, what's there to prove? "Who was who?"

She's not amused. "On the phone, Cosette. Who were you talking to?"

"Danielle...," I didn't mean for it to sound like such a question. Funnily enough, I guess I'm not a very good liar.

My mother nods at me in the most condescending and dismissive way. Like I'm worthless. "Do you normally blush when you talk to Danielle?"

My face gets hot and I'm sure my cheeks are even redder. She laughs and turns to leave before I can think of a suitable answer so I exhale wearily and wait for her to shut the door, but she doesn't. "Theres a letter here for you on the table," Cecile tells me, no trace of emotion in her voice. "Doesn't say who it's from."

With that she closes the door behind her without elaborating any further. We both know who that letter's from, though.

Lydie.

When I was sure you'd follow through
My world was turned to blue so thin
When you'd hide your songs would die
So I'd hide yours with mine
And all my words were bound to fail
I know you won't fail
See, I can tell