I hurry to get ready throwing things into my suitcase as Trace sits on my bed surveying my packing skills with disgust, “Why the fuck would you invite Megan Currie with you? She doesn’t require you to do things for her to put out. She’s the perfect relationship for a male whore.”

I stop putting my clothes into my bag and look up, “Would you stop referring to her as Megan Currie like it was her porn name or something.”

Trace rolls his eyes, “For fucking sake, she could be a porn star. She’s as frigid as a snow bitch and you are treating her like she is your steady girlfriend or something in high school, Come on and wake up. Don’t do this man you know you’re falling for her and it’s never going to happen. Why would you want to ruin what you have anyway? DO you know how many guys would kill to be in your position?”

I throw a foam ball at his head, “Stop alright? You are just upset that she’s coming and you’re not.”

“Uh hello? Of course I’m fucking mad about that. I could be going to Germany and picking up strippers that speak in a foreign language which eliminates the bitching and you invite Megan-”

I point a finger at him and he stops short of saying her last name. I zip up my suitcase and pull it off the bed and onto the floor, “Stop bitching. I’ll be home in a week and then we can do all that stuff.”

“Yeah and the only reason I know that is because you are Meg’s bitch and when she’s done screwing you your ass will come trotting back to me.”

I grin, “That cause you’re my bitch.”

He sighs, “Go on. Get laid, come back happier and then we can do some shit.”

I pat him on the back, “I’ll see you when I get back.”

The doorbell rings and I jog to the door opening it to see Meg with her sunglasses on her head, “Are we going?”

“Yeah. You look good,” I remark.

“Thanks,” she says without any emotion.

I take the suitcase from her hand and take both of ours out to the car, putting them in. She leans back in her seat and turns on the radio. She searches the station until she hits a familiar song, “You don’t mind Matchbox Twenty do you?”

I shake my head no, reaching for the dial and turning it up. I see a smile creep onto her lips as she softly sings along. Sure she’s no Christina, but she can keep a tune and right now it sounds like the best rendition of the song I have ever heard.

she says it's cold outside and she hands me my raincoat
she's always worried about things like that
she says it's all gonna end and it might as well be my fault
and she only sleeps when its raining
and she screams and her voice is straining 

and she says baby
it's 3am I must be lonely
when she says baby
well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
she says the rain's gonna wash away I believe it 

“I got this really nice hotel for us. It has a whole separate dinning room, kitchen, dinning room and bedroom,” I boast trying to show her what life in my shoes is like. 

“I don’t give a damn about hotels. I have stayed in enough of them.” Okay so she shot that down fairly quickly. She was never one to be impressed but I thought I would at least give it a try.

She turns her head to me, “I’ve never been out of the country.” 

My head spins in her direction, “What?” 

“I’ve never been out of the country,” she repeats. 

“But your parents travel all over the world.” 

She laughs, “Yes my parents travel all over the world and each and every time they left us home with the nanny.”

she's got a little bit of something, God it's better than nothing
and in her color portrait world she believes that she's got it all
she swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to
and she only sleeps when its raining
and she screams, and her voice is straining 

she believes that life is made up of all that you're used to
and the clock on the wall has been stuck at 3 for days, and days
she thinks that happiness is the mat that sits on her doorway
but outside its stopped raining

“Wow,” I say for a lack of something to say.

I touch her hand and to my surprise she doesn’t pull away, “Well I’m glad you’re coming with me. I’ll show you around the city. You will absolutely love it.”

Her fingers play with mine and I pretend that I don’t notice. It’s the game we play to keep the ball rolling, “If you say so.”

________________________________________________________________________

I can’t believe this is happening to me. I was planning on the best week ever with the one girl no one can land and I have to go and get the flu. We were riding on the plane over here when I started to feel my throat become scratchy and my nose filled up. Before I knew it I could barely move though I did my best to fake it. I took my temperature as Meg went into the bedroom to unpack a few things. One hundred and three.

I hear footsteps and a voice calls out, “Justin.”

I follow the voice into the bedroom to see Meg clad in only her underwear, “You want to have some real fun.”

This isn’t going to be any worse or painful. I open my mouth to talk and I can barely swallow, “I can’t.”

She gets this look on her face like she might kill me, “And why the fuck not?”

I reach for the bed and sit down, holding my head, “Because I don’t feel well. I have a really bad sore throat and fever.”

I sound like a fucking pussy.

“Oh,” is all she says. I watch her put on her robe and leave the bedroom closing the doors behind her. I stare at the wood until I see double. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If I can’t perform she’s going to find someone who can. I sink down onto the bed as I carefully get changed and put on some sweats sinking underneath the covers and turning down the lights.

Suddenly the door reopens with Meg carrying a tray. I sit up in surprise a little too quickly and a surge of pain hits me head. Her hand is placed on my forehead as she sets the tray in my lap, “There is chicken soup with some celery and carrots, throat lozenges, ginger ale and tissues,” she says, fluffing my pillow.

I look at her like she’s got two heads and go into shock as she puts her head on my chest, lying down next to me. I don’t know where to place my hands in case it might wake her from her trance but finally decide to put one arm on her back. I gently lower it until it touches her skin and keep it still to see if she moves. Nothing.

“Where did you learn to do all this?”

She tucks a piece of blonde hair behind her ear, “My nanny taught me how.”

“Your nanny taught you how to take care of sick people?”

She laughs so lightly it’s like a nymph, not that bitter one that normally accompanies her laugh, “No, whenever my brother or I were sick she used to take care of us, which was nice because we got her undivided attention. My parents didn’t bother her because there was a chance she could get it which meant they could get it. Therefore we had her all to ourselves.”

“You must have really liked her.”

Meg smiles, “Yeah she was great. She taught me everything I know. The soup isn’t as good as mine, but it’s good,” she says, putting the spoon in the soup.

I take a sip and it slides down easily. Meg opens the ginger ale bottle and pours it into a glass with ice, “There you go.”

I take a sip and lie back, “I’m sorry I’m not feeling well. I promise as soon as I can move I’ll show you around.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I have ever heard you talk about your home life.”

Her body tightens and it makes me wonder why the hell I open my mouth, “I guess it’s because there is nothing to tell.”

“What about your brother?”

“What about my brother?”

I shift underneath her, “Are you guys close?”

She takes her hair and pulls it up to reveal her pure white skin, “Sure. I mean we never fight much or anything. He is normally pretty busy with the gallery to hang out much.”

I look into her green eyes and wonder why it’s the only time I have yet to see them clouded over, “When did you know you were meant to paint?”

“Mmmm, oh I’m not sure. I’ve been doing it since I can remember. I just picked up a paint brush and went to town.”

I blow the few strands of hair that have come lose out of her eyes, “You still thinking of doing portraits?”

 She licks her lips, “Yeah but I need a motivation. When I see something and I can’t help but want to put the image on paper,” she giggles, “You could pose nude for me and we could see where that goes when you’re better.”

Her mind is a thing of beauty, “Or you could get naked and I could show you how else we could make art.”

She smiles and touches my arm, “How about you Mr. Grammy winner? When did you know you wanted to sing?”

I chuckle and instantly wish I didn’t because of the pain in my throat intensifies as I do, “When I went to my first New Kids On The Block concert.”

She starts to crack up and puts her head next to my hand, “That’s too funny.”

“Trace went to. I think I even have a picture of him in a tee shirt standing next to their poster.”

“That is something I need a copy of.”

I smirk finishing the soup, “I’ll make you one when we get back to the states.”

“Blackmail for life,” she muses, finally resting her head between my neck and shoulder. I’m not sure what brought on this wonderful change but I hope it never changes.

________________________________________________________________________

I play with the phone as I wait for Alex to call. Apparently from her message I was supposed to phone her after we arrived and I neglected to do so. It’s a nice view from the hotel thanks to a balcony providing a glimpse of the area. The phone starts to ring and I flip it open, “Hey Alex?”

“Hey miss MIA.”

“Sorry about that.”

I can hear her making dinner, “It’s alright. I assumed you were busy entertaining a certain pop star.”

I peak inside to see him sound asleep in bed causing me to smile a little, “He’s sick, I was making sure he was going to make it,” I joke.

“You were always secretly the nurturer,” she remarks.

“I don’t know. Something about him when he said he wasn’t feeling well got to me.”

“Be careful, you might actually be developing human emotions for another human being.”

I go back inside feeling the chill get the best of me, “Funny Alex, very funny.”

“Adam called for you. He wanted me to tell you he wants you to call him back.”

I curl back into the bed, “Kay, thanks.”

“Are you going to?” she asks.

There is a good question to which a month ago I could have answered, but now I’m beginning to feel confused by life, “I don’t know. I’m really tired so I’m going to call it a night.”

“Alright Meg. I’ll talk to you later doll.”

“Bye Alex.”

I close the phone and turn it off. I pull out my camera and put in some black and white film, taking a few of him sleeping. The flash from the camera makes him stir as the shutter makes a clicking noise. Not wanting to wake him, I put the camera next to the bed and watch him for a minute. His body’s breathing rhythm is soothing to me and I drift off to sleep listening to him.