"Down to you
You're pushing and pulling me down to you
But I don't know what I want
Now when I caught myself
I had to stop myself
From saying something
That I should've never thought of you"   

"Again...not as angry." I mutter through the speaker and Madison rolls her eyes, but does as I ask.    

There's still a slight edge to her voice, but it'll work. Unfortunately, I know I'm the reason she can't get her head in the right place. She's fucking up her work and it's my fault.     

I honestly don't know what the hell got into me last night. I just...I couldn't fight it anymore. I wanted her and I was determined to get her.     

I probably shouldn't have bailed after she fell asleep, but I had to get out of there. I didn't want the awkwardness or the questions or any of the drama that would surely come from our actions.    

Basically, I fucked up and in a big way.     

Last night never should have happened. Plain and simple. I've finally realized how Jc feels about her and I swore to myself that I'd let him have her. That's the way it should be. I didn't want her from the beginning...why should I get her now, when he's been sticking it out with her for the last four and a half years?     

I don't deserve her, in more ways than one.    

I thought maybe I could push her away, chalk last night up to nothing more than meaningless sex and it worked....for about 30 seconds. When I saw that hurt look in her eyes, the guilt kicked in and suddenly...I felt like the biggest prick on the planet.    

I swear, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I know I was an asshole and I know I need to make it right. I just don't know how.     

I had a nice long flight home to think and the only conclusion that I've come to, is that I do care about her. She isn't just a girl I picked up somewhere, she isn't some groupie who's up for whatever type of debauchery I have planned and she sure as hell isn't just a friend I can screw around with.    

I don't know exactly what I feel for her, but it runs far deeper than I originally thought and I can't even begin to put a label on it.    

All I know is, it's got to stop. All these thoughts and feelings have to stop now, before they get worse. Too many people stand to get hurt, and I think it's better if I spare them and take the bullet myself.     

I'm going to do whatever I have to, to get Madison and Jc together.    

I know, that may not exactly be fair, especially since I haven't got a clue how Madison feels about me, much less Jc. But one thing is for sure, if I didn't matter to her, the things I said this morning would have rolled right off her back. Instead, I've been getting the silent treatment since we left Chicago.     

I should have just gone to that damn concert. I could have avoided all of this if I'd just gone like I was supposed to. Granted, my meetings did run a little later than I'd planned, but I could have made it there before the show started.    

I just...I saw that as the perfect opportunity to push her and Jace a little closer together. I knew she was practically over the moon about the damn thing, I figured it didn't really matter who was there with her. I thought Jc would use the alone time to his advantage, but oh no...he has to be the perfect fucking gentlemen and make me look like an even bigger dick.     

A small part of me can't help wondering...if he's as crazy about her as he seems, why hasn't he made a move yet? He's had almost five years to act on his feelings, so why hasn't he?    

Sure the whole manager/client thing would be a little odd, but Jace is a complete professional. He'd figure out a way around that.     

The more I think about it, the more I wonder...should I really fight the way I feel because of a guy who's too chicken shit to make a move?     

I don't know, but I need to get this shit off my mind, clear my head for a bit. I just keep harping on it and I'm ending up with more questions rather than answers.     

"This doesn't sound too bad." Trace bobs his head with the beat as we listen to the playback.     

"Yeah...wouldn't be a single though."     

"I don't think we've got a single yet." Jc sighs and runs his hands through his hair.     

"How the hell would we? We've been recording for two weeks." I mumble and roll my eyes.    

Is it bad that I'm kind of starting to hate a guy who's been like my big brother, 90 percent of my life?    

"We're on a time limit man...that's why RCA doesn't want her playing on this album. This has to get out quick."    

"So you'd rather she put out shitty work and end up with another album that doesn't sell?"    

"That's not what I'm saying." He rolls his eyes and I can hear the aggression rising in his voice. "I have complete faith in her. I've seen what she writes and I know it's good...you all just need to pick up the pace a bit."    

"Tell ya what Jace...why don't you produce this fucking album and I'll work on my own shit?"    

"Don't be an ass." He mutters and rolls his eyes again.     

"So...I think we could all use some lunch." Trace says suddenly, stopping the argument before it starts.    

Thank God Madison is still in that damn booth, flipping through her notebook. I don't even want to think about what kind of hell she'd raise if she heard any of that little exchange. I mean, I'm already on her shit list, if I get into it with Jace, it'll just piss her off even more.    

I don't know why, but I'm feeling a little hostile toward him. In a way, I blame him for what happened last night. I know, I know, I know...how the hell can I blame him, when clearly the whole thing is my fault.    

I just...if he hadn't taken that damn ticket, I would have had to go. And I guess, I'm a little irritated that he's kept his feelings hidden for so long. If he would have told her years ago that he had feelings for her, they could have gotten together and then...Madison and I never would have gotten married to begin with.    

That's it...everything is Jc's fault.     

I'm sure I sound like a God damned idiot, but blaming him makes me feel a little less shitty.     

When did I become such an obnoxious jackass? 

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

I hear yet another loud thump come from upstairs, followed by Madison cursing angrily. I haven't got a clue what she's doing up there, but she's been at it for several hours.    

The smart thing would probably be to go up and see, but after she damn near socked me in the face at the studio because I told her she sounded a little flat, I've decided it's best to just give her some space.     

Another loud crash echoes through the house, glass shattering a second later and finally...silence.     

For all I know, she's up there destroying everything I own, but I'm not moving. I completely deserve whatever she decides to dish out and I'm not going to stop her.     

All I can do is hope that once she's finished obliterating the second floor of my house, that she'll have calmed down, give me some time to grovel and maybe if I'm lucky, we can work our way back to atleast being friends.     

Another hour passes before she finally stomps down the steps, dragging two large suitcases behind her.     

Looks like she wasn't tearing up my shit after all.    

She stops in the hallway, grabbing her purse and keys off of the glass table, then heads for the door. She's...she's not leaving, is she?    

"What the hell are you doing?"        

She whips around to face me and I swallow hard. She looks like absolute hell. Her dark eye make-up is smeared, gray tear tracks staining her cheeks. Her over sized T-shirt and sweat pants practically swallow her thin frame and she just looks...broken.    

"I'm going back to my apartment. I can't do this anymore." Her voice cracks and that's when it hits me.    

I'm seeing a side of her that I don't think anyone has ever seen before. This is Madison Fox, with a broken heart.    

Maybe it's because of last night and the things I said this morning, or maybe...she's finally had enough of living a lie.    

Whatever the case, I can't let her leave. Not like this.    

"Come on Madison...you don't have to go. We'll talk about this and straighten it out, ok?"    

"No." She shakes her head sadly, her eyes focusing on the marble floor. "My life has gone to complete shit since the day I met you, and I'm so tired of it. Everything is just so, so wrong and I can't keep going like this."    

I nod slowly, letting her words really sink in. Even though I don't want to admit it....our marriage has driven her life into the ground, and I blame myself for a lot of that.    

She lost her assistant, she was betrayed by someone she trusted. Her album failed miserably and she damn near lost her record deal. The media is hounding her constantly, about me, about her career...they just won't let up.    

She's had it pretty rough these last six months, while I was reaping all the benefits of our publicity. I guess I was just too focused on myself to notice that her life was falling apart at the seams.     

The media is practically having a love affair with me. They seem to think married life suits me quite well and they love to report on my now squeaky clean image. My album sales are up, I'm doing twice as much promo work as I was before. Everybody wants a piece of me, and it's done nothing but boost my career.    

Just like Johnny wanted.    

"Jc went to talk to Johnny...hopefully we're moving the divorce debacle up about a year and a half." She shrugs and rolls her eyes.    

If we move the divorce up, then...then she's gone and I'm not ready for that yet.     

"Madison...let's just talk, alright? I'm sorry about last night and this morning.. I just..."    

"This isn't about you." She cuts me off, a biting tone in her voice. "Last night and this morning don't matter...I'm over it."

"Then what the hell is wrong?"

"I'm just...tired of putting on a show." She says so softly, I have to strain to hear her.   

"Fine...I get that, but...but you don't have to leave."    

It's taking all I have not to get down on my hands and knees, and beg her to stay. I just..I was supposed to have more time. I was supposed to get the chance to make everything right and hopefully, someday muster up the courage to say screw Jc, and tell her how I feel.     

"Bye Justin." She mutters as she opens the door and steps outside, suitcases clattering behind her. She throws them into the trunk and in a matter of seconds, she climbs into the drivers seat, then peels out of the driveway, disappearing from sight.     

She's gone. She's actually gone.    

After all those months of wishing she'd just go away, she finally has and now...I don't know what the fuck to do.     

She can't be serious about this, can she? No. There's no way.    

She's just blowing off some steam. She'll be back in a few hours, probably laughing at herself for being so dramatic. As soon as she comes home, we'll talk and we'll straighten this whole mess out. Everything's going to be fine.    

So, until that time comes...I'm going to sit on these front steps and wait for her.    

She'll come back. She has to.    

Right?

********************************    

Four hours.    

Like a fucking idiot...I sat out on those steps for four damn hours.     

I haven't seen or heard from Madison at all in that time. I've called and left God knows how many messages, and she has yet to return any of my calls. I should have expected this. She's really gone.    

It's almost comical. I've spent so much time trying to get rid of her, threatening to kick her out, locking her out of the house. I wanted her as far away from me as humanly possible. Now, I've finally got exactly what I wanted and I'm fucking miserable, probably because deep down, I know she was serious when she said she was leaving.     

She finally reached her breaking point.     

I'm sure it's been building up for quite some time and I guess the explosion was inevitable. If I hadn't been so wrapped up in my own bullshit, I might have seen it coming. We were supposed to be friends, I should have been there for her. I should have tried to help her. Instead, I just pushed her even closer to the edge.     

Honestly, I can't believe something like this didn't happen sooner. It was just a matter of time before this whole thing blew up in our faces in some way.     

As stupid as it sounds, it's taken me until now to realize that she was just trying to help me. I was the one who would have been damaged by a drunken wedding and annulment. I was the one whose image couldn't be tarnished. She stuck around to cover my ass, and this is how I repay her.    

I spent months insulting and criticizing her, blaming her for the things that happened that night. I was just as guilty as she was, if not more so. I knew she was drunker than I was, but I did nothing to stop what happened.     

I've been so fucking stupid about all of this. I've wasted so much time being an asshole when I should have been getting to know her.    

Maybe then, I would have developed all of these feelings much sooner and I could have told her how I felt.     

I won't say I'm falling in love...yet. But, my feelings are definitely headed in that direction. It's crazy really, I still don't know very much about her, but I can clearly see myself falling for her.     

She could be the woman to bring me to my knees, the one I promise forever to, for real.    

I may not know much about her, but I do know that she makes me want to be a better person. She's made me realize just how jaded the industry has made me and I desperately want to get away from that.    

I know that when she smiles, suddenly all of my problems don't seem so bad. I know that her laugh is probably the most beautiful sound in the world. I know that her scent is so ingrained in my memory, I'll remember it as long as I live, but most importantly... I know that she makes me feel things, no one else ever has.    

I don't need to know when she got her first kiss, or what presents she got for her 10th birthday. All I need to know, is how I feel about her.     

I can deny it all I want, but I've got it bad for the girl.

*********************    

"You gonna answer that shit or what?"     

I groan and roll off of the couch quickly. It's damn near four in the morning, who the hell would be calling here now?    

Trace showed up around 10, trying to convince me to stop moping and go out, but I just couldn't do it. I mean, what if Madison came back and I wasn't here?    

I wasn't about to miss an opportunity to straighten things out with her and maybe...tell her how I feel.    

I could always go to her apartment, but why go out of my way to make a fool of myself? I've accepted the fact that she's gone, now all I can do is hope that she comes back. If she doesn't, I'll have to live with the fact that I screwed up.     

Needless to say, I was finally able to convince Trace that going out was the last thing I needed and we've been lounging around ever since. We haven't talked about Madison or the fact that she left, since he got here.     

See, that's the cool thing about our friendship. We don't have to talk or analyze stuff to death, but we're there for each other. He knows I just need to hang out and find some type of distraction.     

I haven't told him about last night or how I feel about Madison, but I'd be willing to bet he already knows. Trace has been my best friend since we were in diapers. He knows me better than my own mother does and unfortunately, that also means he's probably picked up on my sudden dislike for Jc.     

I know I still need to figure that mess out, but it can wait. Right now, my main focus is getting Madison back into this house. I can deal with all the other shit later, I just need her back here. I just don't know how to make that happen.    

I finally grab the phone, without checking the caller ID. Probably not a good idea, but it's a little late to worry about that now.    

"Hello?"
    

"Mr. Timberlake?"    

"Yeah?" I haven't got a clue who it is. The voice isn't even vaguely familiar and now I'm a little worried.    

I've had to change both my home and cell phone numbers dozens of times over the years, but somehow, there's always those crazies out there who manage to get a hold of them. It doesn't make any sense.    

"Mr. Timberlake, this is John Scott from TMZ. We were calling to ask for a statement regarding your wife's arrest?"    

What the fuck is this guy talking about?    

"Excuse me?"    

"Would you care to comment on your wife's arrest for public intoxication?"    

I slam the phone down on the receiver and stare at it. Number one, how the fuck did TMZ get my home phone number and secondly...Madison got arrested? What the hell?    

"You alright man?" Trace calls from his spot on the couch.     

"I...I don't know." I stutter and shake my head. "Call Chelsea. I think Madison's in jail."    

"Oh shit...for real?" He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.    

"Just call Chelsea."     

I gotta admit, if I wasn't so damn worried about her, I'd probably find this a little amusing too. But, I saw her when she flew out of here this afternoon, I know she isn't exactly in the right frame of mind. The last damn thing she needed was to go out drinking.     

I take the stairs two at a time and head for my bedroom. I grab my wallet and every single one of my credit cards. I don't care if she doesn't want to see me, I have to go get her.     

I just don't understand how the fucking media found out about this, before I did. Surely Jc or Chelsea has to know already. And Johnny...oh fuck.    

Johnny is absolutely going to lose his mind over this. I couldn't care less what the media or the fans think of me or my wife and her arrest, but Johnny just might kill us both.     I jog back down the steps and find Trace waiting for me at the door.    

"Alright...Chelsea didn't know anything. Apparently, Madison went shopping earlier and never came back. Chelsea thought she came back here, so she wasn't too worried about it." He says quickly as we rush outside to my truck. "She's calling Jc now and we'll meet them at the jail."    

Jail.    

My wife is in jail.     

Maybe she was telling the truth earlier. Maybe her leaving had nothing to do with me. Maybe she really had just had enough of pretending and this is how she's coping, by going back to her old ways.     

Granted, I don't know what's really going on, but I've got a pretty good feeling.    

It's the same thing I did a few months ago when I kissed that girl. I was just so fed up and tired of dealing with the pressure, so I went out and acted like I normally would, completely ignoring the act I was supposed to be putting on.     

I just wanted my real life back and by the looks of it, that's exactly what Madison's doing. She just wanted her life back.     

It's a short drive to the jail and as soon as we pull in, I take a deep breath. There's a mob of paparazzi hanging around the door, just waiting to catch a glimpse of her, or get their money shot. What a bunch of bastards.     

Ya know, they're really the ones to blame for all of this. If it wasn't for them and their bullshit, Madison and I probably never would have even met.     

I pull into the first empty spot I see, then Trace and I climb out of the truck quickly, before heading for the door.     

Immediately, questions are being shouted at us from all directions, blinding flashes going off every few seconds. I keep my eyes focused on the ground and ignore them, while Trace alternates between shouts of "fuck off", and "no comment."    

I'm sure Johnny will love hearing about that too.     

We approach the front desk and a middle aged, female officer smiles up at us. "Can I help you boys?"    

"Yeah. I think my wife is here."

"Name?"     

"Madison Fox."    

"Oh yeah...little miss superstar." She rolls her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. "Follow me."    

She stands from her chair and leads us down a long, dimly lit hallway. We stop in front of a heavy metal door where she punches in a code and the door swings open. We enter another room with several small cells lining the walls, a large wooden desk in the center of the room. An older male officer is seated there, flipping through a newspaper.     

"They're here for the diva." The female officer chuckles as the man rolls his eyes.    

That's when I hear her. Her words are slurred, but there's no ignoring Madison's distinctive voice. She giggles loudly before squealing with excitement, sticking her face between the bars of the cell.    

"Justin! Baby...are you gonna bail me out?"

"I Caught Myself"-Paramore