I've decided that I really don't like Johnny Wright.    

I know, I know...I barely know the man, but I think I'm perfectly justified in my dislike for him.     

If it wasn't for Mr. Wright, I'd still be living a fairly normal, single life. He's the reason my face is  on the cover of every magazine known to man. And...thanks to him, I've lost my two weeks off.    

I mean, on one hand, getting to perform at the Grammy's is pretty damn cool, especially since it's something I've never done before. However, because I agreed to perform, RCA decided they wanted me to go ahead and record the song right away.     

Why it couldn't wait is beyond me, but whatever.     

Naturally, I couldn't go in and do just one song. Justin and I recorded three other songs bringing us to a grand total of nine, so far.     

Unfortunately for me, Justin seems to think we're on a roll and wants to keep going. Really, I just want to go home. Everything has been go, go, go the last couple weeks and it's given me absolutely no time to think, which is something I desperately need to do.    

I still haven't been able to wrap my head around Justin and his "I love you" nonsense.     

Number one, he was drunk out of his mind when he said it, and then...he actually had the balls to say he wasn't even sure he meant it.     

Who the hell does that?    

I mean, how do you look at someone, tell them you love them, then turn around and say you don't know if you meant it or not?    

Maybe I'm just naive about this stuff because I can't honestly say I've ever been in love. Sure, there's been a few serious boyfriends and some pretty intense feelings, but I wouldn't call any of it love.     

I never felt like I'd die without them. I never wanted to spend every waking moment with them. I never wanted to do whatever I could to make them smile. I never saw myself walking down the aisle with any of them.    

But then again... since I've never been in love, how do I even really know what love is? I've created my own definition of it, but what if I'm wrong?    

To me, love is finding that one person you can be yourself around, the person who can make you smile, no matter how shitty everything around you is. You get butterflies every time you see them and just the sound of their name can make you smile for days. You can trust them completely, and they make you feel safe. They just...make you feel good.     

That's my idea of love. But, what if it's just my own twisted little version? What if it means something completely different to other people?    

See, this is my problem. I start thinking and I just end up even more confused than I already was.     

All I know is, Justin makes me feel almost every single one of those things. But...I don't trust him. Honestly, how could I?    

How could I possibly trust someone who's treated me the way he has? How can I trust someone who can't even tell me how he feels?    

Granted, I'm not exactly spilling my guts either, but I'm perfectly content keeping my feelings to myself, rather than say those words and not be sure if I mean them.     

I just don't know what to do. So, I've done the only thing I can think of...I've been ignoring it.  Which, might actually be better for me in the long run.     

I think I need to straighten myself out before I can even think about delving into this Justin mess. I just...I feel like the entire world is coming down on my head. It's one shitty thing after another and I honestly don't know how much more of it I can take.    

Every night, I come home from the studio and all I want to do is curl up in a little ball and cry like a two year old. No matter what I do, nothing seems to go right and I don't understand why.     

I've always considered myself to be fairly strong, but lately... I'm this weak, pathetic creature and I can't stand it.     

Maybe I'm just not the person I thought I was. Or maybe, this whole thing with Justin has gotten to me so much, that every little thing seems ten times worse than it actually is.     

I don't know what the hell my problem is, but I need to turn myself around. I need to go back to not taking any shit and being myself.     

I need to....I just don't know how.    

"Damn...this is amazing!" Justin shouts excitedly from his spot on the couch.     

He's been flipping through another one of my notebooks for the past hour and God only knows what he's found now.     

"We're doing this." He grins and passes me the book. I look down at my own writing and swallow hard.    

Shit.     

Of all the songs in these notebooks, why does he have to pick the one about him?    

I mean, since we've been married, I've done a lot of writing and he's inspired a good bit of it, but this one... this one is special. It puts all of my feelings for him on display and I swore to myself, this song would never see the light of day.     

As shitty as my luck's been lately...I should have seen this coming.     

Seriously...what did I do to piss off the guy upstairs so much? I mean, couldn't he just send me to hell, wouldn't that be easier?    

"Justin, no. This one's...it's private."    

"Come on, Madison. That song is fantastic and you know it."    

"It really isn't all that great." I mumble and shrug lamely. "There's a ton of others. Just pick something else."    

"Nope."

"Justin, please." I'm flat out begging him now, and I don't even care how stupid I look or sound.     

I can't sing this in front of him. He'll see right through me and I can't let that happen.    

"We aren't leaving until you record this. I'm calling the band now." He smirks before pulling his phone out.    

He can be such a bastard when he wants to be. But, I'm not backing down. The fact that he read the lyrics is bad enough.    

Ya know, that's one of many things I can't stand about him. He refuses to hear the word no. No matter how many times you say it, or how much you protest... he just doesn't fucking listen.     

Unfortunately, all he has to do is smile, and I know I'll cave.     

I really, really hate him for that.     

"They'll be here in 20." He grins before moving to set up his equipment. "Seriously Madison...I get that it's personal or whatever, but you gotta just let that go. Most songs are private to whoever wrote them, but you can't let that stop you. I'm telling you...this is going to be incredible." He smiles sweetly at me, and all I can do is nod.    

See? Works every damn time!    

I hope he's happy, because after this, there'll be no hiding the way I feel about him and God only knows what that will lead to.

**********************
    

"Screw it... just wear your pajamas." Chelsea shrugs as she continues to rummage through my closet, and I can't help but laugh at her.     

"Yeah, that'd go over real well."    

Chelsea is the epitome of casual. Honestly, the only time I remember ever seeing her get dressed up is for Halloween, and even then she avoids dresses or skirts as much as possible. She lives in jeans and T-shirts. I mean, I usually do too, but I know when I have to look nice and I try my best to do so.     

Chels just doesn't get the whole formal event thing, and really...she can't be blamed. Sure, she's been my best friend forever and she's seen me deal with it, but this lifestyle is all new to her, and it definitely takes some getting used to. She'll be alright though. Chelsea can handle just about anything you throw at her.    

"Well, it's stupid. Why can't you perform in what you wear?"    

"You just can't." I giggle and roll my eyes. "Come on.. we're going shopping. My clothes suck."    

"Oh yeah Maddie... they're all hideous. That's why a million little girls do everything they can to look like you." I smile stupidly as Chelsea keeps rambling.        

I know it's corny, but I love hearing stuff like that. Granted, I didn't set out to be a role model or anything, but it's pretty cool. Knowing that all these little girls look up to you is an awesome feeling, and hearing that they dress like me is hilarious.    

I mean, I'm not some fashion icon or anything. My wardrobe consists of mostly faded, ripped jeans that I've had for God knows how long, and my various collection of old band T-shirts and hoodies. It really isn't anything special, or all that out of the ordinary. I just wear what I like and what makes me comfortable.     

It's cool that other people feel the same way, but at the same time, it's kind of strange to see a bunch of little girls running around in ripped jeans, trying to imitate me.    

I guess it just comes with the territory.     

Chelsea continues to babble about the absurdity of award shows as we head out of my room and down the steps, but stops suddenly when we hear voices coming from the living room.    

"So, I played it off like yeah, I'm a happily married man, blah, blah, blah, but I was thinking like damn...the shit I could do this girl, ya know?"    

"What the fuck?" Chelsea whispers angrily. "You haven't even been married a year and he already wants to cheat?"    

I roll my eyes and head for the door, but freeze when Trace's voice seems to echo throughout the house.    

"Yeah, but it's not like you're really married, so fuck it. I say, do what you want man. You know Johnny can spin shit into gold. You're covered for whatever as far as I'm concerned."    

Chelsea lets out a loud gasp and suddenly, I feel like somebody just slapped me in the face.     

I swear...as soon as I figured out what to say, I was going to tell her the truth. I was going to tell her everything that happened in Vegas, and how the last six months have been a complete sham. I was even going to tell her about Beth.     

Chelsea's my best friend and I hate lying to her. I know she'd never tell a soul about this and I know she'd be supportive.     

But, it wasn't supposed to happen like this. She wasn't supposed to overhear some stupid conversation between Justin and Trace. I was supposed to sit her down and tell her everything.     

Now, I won't get that chance, thanks to big mouth and his shrimpy ass friend.     

"Madison... what the hell are they talking about?" Chelsea is still standing in the middle of the large marble staircase when I turn around to face her, and I can't ignore the fire in her eyes.    

She's downright livid, and she has every right to be. If our roles were reversed, I'd be ready to rip every damn hair out of her head.     

"It's not what you think Chels...I swear."

"You sure about that? Because it sounds like there's some twisted shit going on around here, and I'm the only one who doesn't know the fucking truth!"    

She's practically screaming at me and of course, she's got dumb and dumber's full attention now. The two of them are standing in the doorway, looking back and forth between the two of us, like they're watching a tennis match.     

"Look...I..."    

"Don't give me some lame ass excuse Madison... I want the truth." She demands.    

"Something wrong?" Justin feigns innocence as he looks up at her and moves to stand beside me, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulder.     

"Are you two married or not?" Chelsea asks, her intense stare focused on me, like Justin and Trace aren't even here.    

"We're married....but we aren't together." I mutter and shrug Justin's arm off quickly.     

"Care to elaborate?"
    

"Chels...I wanted to tell you, I really did. I just.... I didn't know how." I swallow the lump that's formed in my throat and try my best to look her in the eyes. "We were...we'd been drinking in Vegas when I finished the album and... and we got married. Johnny didn't want to ruin Justin's reputation, so he... he decided we should stay married."    

"And you couldn't tell me this because?"    

"Because we're under a contract." I mumble pathetically.    

"Who else knows?"    

"Trace... Jc... Beth...."    

"Beth?" She laughs bitterly and rolls her eyes. "You've got to be fucking joking. You told that bitch before you told your best friend? What the hell is wrong with you Madison? She's the one who sold you out. I told you a thousand times not to trust her, but you never listened."    

"I didn't tell her Chelsea...she was there. She talked us into it."    

"You know what? It doesn't matter. You need to do some serious self-evaluating Madison, because this fame shit is really getting to your head. " She shrugs before stomping down the stairs and straight out the front door, slamming it behind her.     

She left. She actually left.     

In over 15 years of friendship, Chelsea and I have never walked away from a fight still mad at each other...until now. And, it's all Justin's fault.    

Granted, he had no idea we were in the hallway, but he knew Chelsea was here...he should have known better than to go shooting his mouth off about some skank he wants to sleep with.     

He is slowly but surely ruining every damn thing in my life.     

Not to mention the fact that, this proves he was lying through his fucking teeth when he said he loved me. If he's so in love with me... why is he thinking about other women?    

I may have feelings for him, but I really, really hate him.     

"Happy now?" I ask through clenched teeth as I turn to look at Justin.     

"What? You think this is my fault?" He chuckles and rolls his eyes. "Hey... I'm not the one who lied to their best friend. This is all on you sweetheart."    

"Oh don't even! If it wasn't for you, none of this ever would have happened! I'm so tired of everything in my life getting fucked up because of you!"    

"Madison... come on, this isn't my fault." Justin sighs helplessly and turns to Trace. "Tell her this isn't my fault."    

"I uhh...I gotta...I gotta do...something." Trace mutters before darting down the hallway and disappearing into the house.     

"See? It is your fault! If you weren't running your mouth about some bimbo, my best friend wouldn't hate me!"    

I can feel the tears building up and it's taking all I have to keep them at bay. Having my best friend mad at me is bad enough, but I can't stop Justin's words from running through my mind.    

When he went out with Trace last night, I knew there'd be women throwing themselves at him, and yeah...I got a little jealous. But, I had this idea that he loved me and wouldn't do anything about it. And technically, he didn't... but he wanted to, and that's just as bad.    

I don't understand how he could say those things to me, but he's still chasing after other women.    

See...this is exactly why I can't get involved with him. I'd never be enough, and who knows how long he'd keep me around.  There will always be those girls in clubs and bars, dying to get a piece of him, and apparently... he'd be more than happy to give it to them.     

I can't be with someone like that.    

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know you could hear us."    

"Ya know what... you have to apologize way too much, and I don't think you even mean it. They're just words to you. It doesn't mean a God damn thing, and I'm sick of hearing it."    

"Don't tell me what I mean or don't mean, and don't treat me like I'm a fucking moron!" He's yelling almost as loud as I am now, and I've got a bad feeling this is going to get pretty ugly before we resolve anything.    

"Ok...you tell me how to treat you then. Because only a moron would tell someone they love them, then act like this."    

"I knew it! I so fucking knew it!" He laughs quietly and shakes his head. "I knew you were all hung up on that shit. Madison... you're the one who blew it off. You're the one who acted like it never happened."    

"What was I supposed to do? You were drunk!"    

"So? That doesn't mean anything. I'll tell you exactly what our problem is. You feel the same way, and you can't handle it."
    

"Oh please." I can't help but roll my eyes and laugh at him.    

He is so full of himself, it's almost comical. I mean seriously, who the hell does he think he is?    

"Just admit it, Madison. You'll feel better." That cocky smirk I'm so used to seeing appears on his face, and I'd love nothing more than to slap him into next week.    

How is it possible that one man can be so incredibly infuriating?    

"Someone really should deflate your ego. I mean seriously, Justin... your head might not fit through the door anymore."    

"Come on Maddie..." He trails off, grinning like a damned idiot.     

"No." I head up the steps to my room, and Justin is on my heels, demanding to hear those three little words.     

Unfortunately for him, he's fighting a losing battle.     

I don't love him.    

I can't.    

I don't think I'd even know how.    

"Please, Madison? Just say it."    

When we reach the top of the stairs, I whirl around to face him and roll my eyes. Why can't he just take the hint and leave me the hell alone?    

"Justin... I do not love you, because it's impossible to love someone who makes you want to vomit." I walk into my room, slamming the door behind me and leaving him on the stairs, his mouth hanging wide open.    

I don't love him. I swear, I don't. I can't, and I won't let myself.