Somehow between myself and Eric we reeled this girl back in. When she first walked out of the room I had serious doubts of if I even wanted to try, but I hadn't worked that hard to get her here for nothing. Clearly this girl had a past, and something triggered it. Why did I find myself wondering what that past was? I spoke no more the then 10 words to this girl and suddenly I felt the need to know everything about her. I poked my head out the door of my dressing room and I saw Eric down the end of the hall pulling a chair up to talk to her. The tears that I saw forming were now officially flowing, she was practically sobbing into a tissue. I knew that I couldn't have made her cry like that, but I kept going back to everything I had said to her just to make sure I hadn't said anything out of line. I walked about half way down the hall and looked at Eric for some answers, next thing I knew he was walking up to me.

"Go talk to her," he whispered in my ear.

"Is this girl crazy man? What am I getting myself into?"

"She's not crazy, I don't know exactly what she is but crazy isn't it. Just go over there and let her do the talking, obviously something got to her but it wasn't you. She asked me if she fucked it up, just show her that she didn't."

"Thanks for all your help today man," I said while patting him on the back. I walked over to her, kneeled down in front of her and grabbed her hands. I did what Eric told me and let her do the talking. Somehow we ended up back in my dressing room where we stayed for almost two hours.

She was sitting on the couch with her legs under her sipping on a bottle of water while we talked. I started with the basics and worked my way up.

"So, do you live around here?" I asked.

"Yeah, I go to school right in Boston and I live across from the Common. My house is actually like a 5 minute drive but it's totally worth the extra money to live on campus so that I can be out of my house."

"Independence, I have a love hate relationship with it. It's great to be on your own, but at the same time when I'm away for too long I start to miss my family and home life."

"I wish I could say the same," she started with a sigh, "my family and home life was never really a good one. My parents basically hate each other, I can't even remember the last time my mother didn't go to sleep on the couch, and I guess it just wore off on me and my sister. We didn't grow up in a very loving home. My sister moved out to go to college and never came back, but we've just recently started actually liking each other which is nice."

"Do you think you'll move back after you graduate?"

"I don't really plan on it, but if I can't afford it, I might have to. Once I graduate my parents will get divorced, the only reason they're staying together now is because we get more help from the government for my schooling. Once that happens I really don't have any reason to see my Dad or his side of the family, and I'm sure my Mom will get a place on her own, so I might not even have a place to go."

I could tell she was starting to get comfortable with me. We had moved on from the general how old are you, where do you live kind of questions and onto the tougher ones. She told me about her home life. About how her parents never told her that they loved her. About how her Mom and Dad fought constantly and her Dad was verbally abusive to not only her mother but herself and her sister too. She even told me that when she was 13 her parents put her on medication and told her that she was the problem and the reason why there family was being torn apart. As hard as it was for her to tell me and to experience, I could tell that she was proud of the fact that she came out of the situation and is now a better person for it. From the day she could start working she did. She got a job at 13 and has supported herself ever since. She goes to school full time as well as works a full time job to pay for tuition and other life expenses. She was in the middle of telling me about what she wanted to do after college and how her dream was to move to the West Coast when her cell phone rang. I laughed a little and put my head down when I realized her ring was one of my songs, and when I looked at her she immediately started blushing, and rummaged quickly through her purse. She looked at the Caller ID and when she saw who it was from she nearly screamed "Shit," and in the same breath apologized for swearing.

"Sorry, I've got to take this."

"No problem," I said as I got up to grab a drink and to give her some privacy. As much as I knew I shouldn't have listened to her conversation, I couldn't help it.

"Jen, oh my God I'm so sorry I totally forgot you were waiting for me, I got so caught up...no I'm fine.... I'm still here...I don't really know if I can tell you...No seriously I'm fine, I can grab a cab home it's not that far...Fine, I'll call you and you can come pick me up?" I heard her sigh and turned to see her roll her eyes at what must have been her friend grilling her about where she was. I wanted to tell her it was okay for her to say what she was doing, but I didn't want her to know I was listening, and I still wasn't sure if I could trust her enough to not let this get out to the media, so I kept my mouth shut while I put a tea bag in my hot water. "Jen I promise I'm fine and I'll fill you in when I can okay? I'll call a cab I swear, and I'll call you when I get home. I'm so sorry I forgot to call you...I will...Love you too...bye." I heard her putting her phone back in her purse, I turned around with my tea in one hand and another bottle of water for her in another and I saw her putting chap stick on. She looked up at me and smirked,

"Sorry about that," she said as she smacked her lips together and threw the chap stick back in her bag. She took the water from me and drank about half the bottle before I even sat down.

"About the phone call or the ringtone?" I asked chuckling.

"Oh, you caught that huh? Yeah...that's not awkward or anything."

"I wouldn't call it awkward...embarrassing maybe but awkward not so much," I said with a wink.

"Thanks for pointing that out, nothing gets past you I see."

"I'm just kidding with you, it's quite flattering to know that I have at least one fan."

"At least one? Who are you kidding, you just did a show in front of thousands of screaming people, who paid quite a bit of money I might add for a ticket, and you're flattered to have 'one fan'?"

"You're different."

"Oh really? Because you know so much about me to know that I'm different."

"You are. I walk out on stage every single night and have people scream for me for two and a half hours. They scream at the fact that they're in the same room as me, they scream because I'm "So hot", they scream because I dry hump a dancer, or because I come this close to kissing them. They are screaming for me, not for my music or the performance. They're not taking in the meaning of the songs, or the work and dedication I put in towards the show and my voice. They would still be screaming if I sounded like shit. Then I see you, standing there with your eyes closed taking it all in. Appreciating it, understanding it. Not caring about what I'm doing or how I look, but about the music and it's meaning. I've never once in all my years doing what I do, seen someone actually get it. You get it. That to me is so much more important then having 30,000 people screaming. That is a fan."

"Wow," was all she could really say, and after that rant I just went off on, I didn't really know what to say either. "It's kind of weird how you can figure all that out just by looking at me for a few minutes," she began after a minute or two. "I mean you're right, I am a fan for the music and the meaning behind it, the looks are just an added bonus. If we're being honest here...we are being honest here right?"

"Is that a serious question?"

"Okay so we're being honest," she said while adjusting how she was sitting. She put her back on the arm of the couch and spread her legs out over mine. She was officially comfortable, and no longer nervous or shocked at who she was talking to, and I was officially beyond happy about bringing her here. I hadn't had a conversation like this is way too long. "Honestly, music has gotten me through some of the toughest times of my life. If I'm upset I go to my room and blare music and go to another world. Sometimes I'll find a song that I connect with and play it over and over again. I use to trust people with my feeling and my problems but I found out the hard way that I shouldn't give my trust so easily. So I put my trust in the music I listen to, I count on music to get me through, to keep me sane. And I will admit that some of your music has helped in that area over the years. But please don't let that make your head explode and realize that I said SOME because certain songs are definitely not on my list to keep me sane."

"Well, I don't know if I should say I'm flattered or if I should go get my ass back in the studio and make non-shitty music."

"You should be flattered, and make non-shitty music kill two birds with one stone."

"I'm definitely flattered, and I appreciate the criticism. I agree with you some of my music isn't the top of my game, but it's always nice to hear that your music has an affect on people. I kind of use music in place of people too. It's hard in this business to know who you can trust and who you can't. Obviously I can talk to my family, but sometimes they just don't get it. Maybe that's why when I saw you I kind of felt a connection to you because I do the same thing at concerts, just kind of take it all in. So what's your story about not being able to trust people?"

She looked down at her hand and started to twirl her thumbs again. I struck a cord and I really didn't mean to. I tilted her chin up so that she'd look at me and I noticed tears forming again. I kept my eyes on her and tried to will the tears away.

"Sorry," she said softly, "it's just a really hard subject for me to talk about right now, and I think I've done enough crying for one day."

"No worries," I said, "I'll get it out of you someday when you're ready."

"Well, I should probably go, it was really nice to meet you," she said quickly while getting up off of the couch and reaching for her sweatshirt.

"Oh, sure if you want to...I mean I was going to see if you wanted to grab a bite to eat but if you want to go you can."

"You want to get dinner with me?"

"Well, yeah. It's been really nice being able to sit here and just talk to you. Holding a conversation with someone about things other then my schedule and my life are few and far between. It just felt, I don't know...right."

"I have to say I never thought I'd be able to just open up like I did with you, it felt really comfortable and reassuring but I also know that you're a celebrity and you're leaving tomorrow, and dinner will probably lead to you asking me back to your place and since we're being honest here, I'm not one to just have sex with someone for shits and giggles, celebrity or not."

"Well aren't you one to jump to conclusions. I'm not a one night stand kind of guy myself, I just wanted to take you out, talk somewhere other then my dressing room, try and pick your brain and figure you out some more. If you don't want to it's okay too, totally up to you."

"We have been here for over two hours and you haven't tried anything yet, so maybe dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. I know this cute little place right down the street. It's kind of secluded and private so you probably wouldn't get recognized."

"Sounds like a plan. If you just give me a couple of minutes to change I'll have my driver take us there."

"Sure, I'm just going to call my friend and tell her I'm home so she doesn't worry anymore," she said while trying to find her phone in her bag.

"You can tell her the truth...if you trust her."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think I know you well enough to be able to trust your judgment."