“I can’t believe you were able to get off work to spend time on the set,” Justin exalts as his make-up artist tries her best to complete his look. The stupid guy won’t sit still since he’s trying to turn around to look at me and not my reflection in the mirror. The girl trying to apply his foundation is at her wit’s end and I’m starting to feel bad for the poor thing.

I’ve been on set with Justin since five o’clock this morning and part of me is relishing in the busy work and the fact that I don’t have to run around like the rest of these crazy people. But the other bit is screaming to join the onslaught of assistants and ADs that are stressing like mad. I keep reminding myself that this isn’t my scene anymore. And I should be grateful because if I wasn’t dating Justin, I would more than likely be running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Either that or I’d still be somewhat miserable in London.

“Well I took time off and I’m here, and now you need to sit still so Julia can get you on set on time,” he nods dutifully and looks towards the make up artist who gratefully attacks him with her brush. I feel like a mother telling her son to sit still. God as if being a girlfriend wasn’t hard enough…

Our fight from a few days ago simmered when Theo and I returned from dropping Elliot and his new roommate Bruno off at his apartment. We both realized how ridiculous we were being and with time together so short, it wasn’t and still isn’t the smartest idea to fight.

That doesn’t mean I’m not suspicious of Maura or Elliot and Theodore’s premonitions from the other day. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I would much rather be one hundred percent sure before I make my feelings known. Thankfully, I haven’t seen Maura since we got here four hours ago. Justin sent her on errands the moment the cars parked. Good news for me, more time with my man.

Julia finishes her job and Justin leaps from the chair and makes a beeline for me. His arms instantly snake around my waist and I automatically assume the position of wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “Can we just lock ourselves up in my trailer and not film this video?” he whines. I find that he does this more when he wants to spend time with me, but can’t.

“You know you need to get this done,” I mutter, “And the sooner you do all this stuff right, the sooner we can go home and spend more time together.” He squeezes me tighter and I hold on before I hear the door open behind me. Letting go of Justin, I turn around and see Maura holding the door to the make up trailer open, looking a bit embarrassed that she interrupted our little moment.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her eyes looking at me and then landing on Justin, “Your call time is up,” she explains. “Gotta get a move on.” And before I can say anything, Justin kisses me quickly and starts ordering Maura around to do stuff. I listen in on a few tasks and I quickly whip out my phone.

I know I said I was going to stop, but Justin is giving a long winded list of things he wants accomplished before his first break and there is no way in hell Maura is capable of pulling any of that off without pissing Justin off. I yank out my phone and call a few people that Justin mentioned as I watch the pair walk towards the sound stage. I smile inwardly as Maura reaches for her phone and no doubt tries to call the assistant director I’m currently speaking to. Her brows furrow and she looks over her shoulder at me. I smile and wave before I disappear into the makeup trailer. I know for a fact if I watch Justin film his video he’ll only be distracted.

A few hours pass before I get exceedingly bored and decide to head onto the set. I can hear the song on playback as I walk into the enormous soundstage. There are extras waiting in their designated area and dressed to kill in black outfits that are looking pretty damn awesome if I do say so myself. The actress Justin is using in this video is being whisked away by her handlers and Justin is standing off to the left of the room with Marty, Maura, and the director, the three of them watching the recent take.

“That’s good. Can we keep that close up in there?” Justin questions as he points to the image on screen before he crosses his arms and looks at the take with a seasoned eye. I smile knowing that when it comes to things like this, he can get serious and stop the immaturity. I walk up next to him and he immediately picks up my hand and holds onto it tightly as we continue to watch the extended take

“Looks good,” I offer once the screen goes black and the director begins to pull Justin back on set for another take. He throws the guy a nasty look for pulling us apart at such an inopportune time, but I quickly let go of his hand. I don’t want to keep him from his work. I won’t be that girlfriend.

“Lauren, can I talk to you for a second?” Maura asks suddenly. I turn around and stare at her. The corners of her mouth are pulled down and it looks like she isn’t happy in the slightest. If I didn’t know any better I would say she’s almost pissed off, but that isn’t the case at all. If anything she’s between mad and disappointed.

“What’s up?” we begin to walk away from the set and I can hear Justin yelling at me. I turn around and I can see him up on the stage, waving like a complete lunatic. I wave back, blow a kiss, and turn around just as I see him catch it and press it against his groin with a twinkle in his eye.

Men.

We walk out into the crisp December morning and I immediately wrap the sweatshirt Justin let me borrow around me tighter. Whoever said California had mild winters was an idiot. This place can be just as cold, if not colder than Worden.

People are running around in between two massive sound stages and yelling out commands and requests at one another. It’s enough to make one’s head spin and yet I’m reveling in this moment. I feel like I belong here, like I almost…

“Lauren.” Maura calls me back to reality and I look over at the blonde who’s leaning against the sound stage and raising an eyebrow at me. “You all there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m still not used to the whole Hollywood back lot thing,” I apologize as I follow her lead and lean next to her, “What did you needed to talk about?”

“I don’t know how to put this lightly so I’m just going to come out and say it…” her voice fades away and I’m almost certain she’s going to tell me that she’s guilty of dirty thoughts that include her and my boyfriend. Or she’s already gotten in the pants of my boyfriend and feels the need to tell me now. If the latter is the case I don’t care if he’s shooting the most important video of his life, he’ll die.

“What?”

“You need to stop doing my job,” she blurts out and quickly looks away as if she’s spoken the nastiest word in the English language. “It really has gotten out of hand.”

What does she mean, ‘gotten out of hand?’

“At first I was enthralled you were giving me some inside help. The first couple of weeks were complete hell, trying to know Justin and figure out what made him tick. Getting the little things out of the way really helped me out and I’m extremely grateful for that. But running errands for me, not saying anything, and then having me show up and make an idiot out of myself when I realize someone else has already done it is quite enough. Stealing my calls, doing everything anonymously…it’s gone a bit too far.

“I mean, what are you going to do once he goes on tour? You can’t follow him and you can’t do what I do anchored in Los Angeles. If you miss it that much you can go back. I’ll gladly give up my position in lieu for another job on the tour. Honestly, Lauren I won’t be offended…”

The last thing I want to do is work for Justin again.

“I’m sorry Maura,” I say, “Working for Justin made up the better part of my life and being around him and not running around like my ass is on fire is really weird. I’m a creature of habit, and this is something I need to break. I’ll stay out of your hair, I promise.” She smiles brightly and I return it before she claps me on the shoulder and I hug her awkwardly around the shoulder.

Glad this crisis could be avoided.

Doesn’t mean I won’t pick up a phone call here or there….

*~*~*~*

I want to make this night perfect.

Granted that would be so much easier for me if I could find my old boom box to transport out onto the back terrace. I know, I know, ‘but Justin, you’re worth millions if not billions of dollars, why don’t you just use the bomb ass stereo system we know you have in your tricked out house?’

Because it doesn’t work dammit, and for my last night in town, it’s really pissing me off. But now that I think about it, using a boom box could be slightly more romantic and that’s the mood I’m going for at the moment.

It’s my last night in town before I have to sell my soul to the tour and I don’t want to go. I feel like Lauren and I have had days to be together and not almost two months. She’s been busy, I’ve been busy, hell the whole world has been busy and I haven’t been able to stop the world in order to spend time with the woman I love.

Doesn’t that just suck a left nut?

I dig deep into my closet; trying to find the boom box I know is tucked away under some old gym shorts I don’t wear anymore. The smell is disgusting but I muscle on through. You could say I’ve been driven by love, I say I’m driven by the fact that if things go according to plan I’ll more than likely get laid tonight.

Last night I was too tired and I refuse to leave Los Angeles without a proper send off.

Of course this isn’t the only reason why I’m doing this – my last night in town and I want to spend it with Lauren, the only person who matters at the moment. Yeah I’m pretty positive that we’ll end up fucking each other senseless by the time the night is over, but I also want to just spend time with her, and talk to her, and just be with her.

And it would be really fucking helpful if I could find this damn boom box.

“Trace!” I holler. I hope to God that Lauren doesn’t answer my best friend’s call. I want to surprise her and having her help me set up my little send off party for two just wouldn’t be romantic. “Trace get your ass up here!"

“You shrieked, crazy ass?” his voice sounds from the door to my closet. I’m currently on my hands and knees, fishing through dirty clothes that haven’t been washed in Christ knows how long. Trace takes a deep breath and he immediately makes a face of displeasure, “Fuck man, what the hell died in here?”

“Have you seen my boom box?”

“What the fuck is this, 1994? No I have not seen your boom box. Get with the twenty-first century man!”

“You know I’m a techno-phobe, and I’ve been telling you for weeks to get the in-house stereo system working, but have you done it yet? No,” I state curtly. I don’t care if I piss him off…I want things to go perfectly and his fucktard attitude is not helping at all.

“Well I don’t know where it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go out and secure a bone…” his voice wanders away as I resume my search for the MIA boom box. This is really pissing me off.

After ten more minutes of searching in vain, I call off the rescue squad and walk out of my room, shrieking for Lauren

“What?” she bellows. It sounds like she’s in the living room. I head in that direction and walk in on her watching some random reality show on VH1. I don’t know why she gives a damn about that shit…but I must admit that the times I’ve watched it I’ve found myself strangely addicted.

“Would you come with me?” I ask, “I have something to show you.” She gives me a quizzical look and gets to her feet taking the hand I’ve offered her. I walk her out onto the back terrace and close the sliding door behind me.

“Wow,” she states simply. I turn to join her and my eyes are met with a stunning view of Hollywood and the Los Angeles skyline. The lights are blinking in the darkness and I walk over to the edge of the large terrace, sitting down on the blanket I’ve set up. “It’s a picnic,” she says simply with a huge smile plastered on her face. She sits down next to me, kissing my cheek. Soon we’re eating a simple dinner of cheese, meat, bread, and wine (so European, I know) and talking about random shit that only Lauren and I could get.  

“I still can’t believe you brought that dog home,” I explain with a huge laugh as I take a deep sip of wine. I can tell that Lauren isn’t too pleased that I’m bringing the dog up again, but like I care. “Where’s he staying?”

“Elliot’s,” she explains her eyes a glow with some kind of light I can’t place. “And just so you know the second you leave the house, I will be bringing Bruno back so I’m not left with an empty house.”

“Lo, please, you have Trace…” I add and she rolls her eyes before she looks out at the view. We fade into a comfortable yet somewhat tense silence as we drink in the wine and the company. Before I can stop myself, I clear my throat and turn to look at Lauren.

“What?” she asks me and I can tell she’s suddenly put off by my obvious change of attitude.

“Your Christmas present to me still stands right?” I ask quickly. I hate the fact that I’m about to say the things I’m going to say; it only makes me look more pussy whipped than I actually am. I silently thank the fact that Trace is keeping to himself tonight.

“Of course it does,” Lauren says as if me asking the previous question was a ridiculous notion, “Why wouldn’t it?”

“Well I have a feeling I might be invoking your present tomorrow night and I was wondering if, maybe, I could get another one?” I question. After the thought is out of my head and out into the open I immediately regret it. I absolutely fucking hate how much I need her and how much my life blows without her. The thought of going a few months without her is actually making my hands clammy and I want nothing more than to throw her over my shoulder and take her up to my room and do…well, do unspeakable things to her that would probably make even Trace blush.

I wait for her answer with a quickening heart rate and I can feel it almost stop when she shakes her head and looks over at me with a sympathetic smile, “Can’t do that Justin, you really have to need me and you’ve been away from me longer than a day. Be a big boy, I know you can do it.”

“But I don’t want to do it!” I whine and I have to stop myself rather quickly from stamping my foot on the ground, “I don’t understand why you can’t just come with me!”

She sighs heavily and I know this is a topic that we’ve been over time and time again, but I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, if I’m persistent enough and don’t ease up on her, she’ll throw up her hands and go upstairs to pack.

“Look, Justin…” but her explanation is thwarted by a strangled yell of frustration coming from the house. We both turn over our shoulders to see Trace come marching out onto the patio, looking like someone had managed to shave a couple of inches off of his already dwindling height. The shrimp comes barging towards us and he doesn’t look happy at all.

“Trace…” I begin, but he holds up a hand before he dives at the lounge chairs and begins to pull up the cushions, as if looking for something he can’t find, “…what the fuck are you doing?”

“Can’t…find…iPod…” his voice is muffled between his heavy breathing and once he’s finished leaving the patio in an advance state of upheaval he turns towards us and offers an exasperated sigh, “I can’t find my new iPod…”

“Trace, you have like fifty iPods,” Lauren points out, “Are you sure it isn’t in the box of all the ones you’ve broken?”

“No,” he says thoroughly frustrated, “I already checked there and I need it!”

“Why?” I ask him. I’m not really excited that he’s managed to practically ruin my last night with Lauren. If anything the skeeze can just run down to the Apple store and buy a new one, lord knows he has the money and it isn’t that late, he could just run in, buy it, and go off to do whatever it is he needs to do tonight.

“Because I’m trying to secure a bone tonight and I’ve got to supply the tunes!”

“Well that shows a lot of tact,” Lauren says sarcastically, “‘Securing a bone,’ what are you, a freaking retriever?”

“Don’t start Lauren,” Trace warns and I can tell that they’re about to get into one of their world famous arguments. Granted they don’t get as heated as the one’s Lauren and I get into, but still I never wanted this the last night in town…

“Why shouldn’t I start? I’m trying to enjoy my night and you’re coming out here bitching about a stupid iPod and how you can’t, as you so charmingly put it, ‘secure a bone.’ I swear…” her voice fades away and she throws up her hands in exasperation. She’s getting antsy and I can either step in and take a side, or just keep quiet.

“Well excuse me for asking and for ruining your precious evening. You don’t have to be such a bitch about it…”

“That’s it,” Lauren says suddenly in a quiet almost dangerous voice. I can tell she’s trying to control her short temper for once and it seems that I’m not the only one taken aback. Trace has a look on his face as if Lauren just smacked him across the face, “I’m tired.” Getting to her feet she turns towards me and gives me a small kiss on the forehead. “I’m going to bed.”

What the fuck? Just like that she’s going to rush off to the room and go to sleep, on my last night in fucking town? I watch with my mouth agape as Lauren walks briskly into the house. I give Trace the nastiest look I can muster.

“What?” he asks as if he didn’t do anything wrong. There are times when I want to throw Trace off the patio and watch him bounce like some oddly shaped bouncy ball down the fucking mountain.

“Really smooth Trace,” I say shaking my head as I get to my feet so I can clean up mine and Lauren’s now abandoned picnic, “Now neither of us is going to ‘secure a bone.’”