When I made it back to the dorm I was relieved to see that Kim wasn’t there. I knew that, with one look at me, she would know something was seriously wrong and demand I tell her everything. At that point, I just wasn’t up for explaining it all to her. As I laid across my bed and stared out of my window onto campus I was vaguely aware that I had Biology in an hour, but I couldn’t move my bones. All I wanted to do was sleep. Just sleep.

My eyes flew open and I sucked in a deep, heavy breath that felt like I’d been holding forever. For a moment, I couldn’t move.

Then, just like that, I was up, and running.

My professor, who’s name I’d completely forgotten, was in the middle of a lecture when I came bursting into my Biology classroom. Every eye that landed on me eventually shrunk with the smiles and laughter that were inevitable when it came to my rumpled appearance.

There was only one person in the class who didn’t burst into laughter the moment they saw me. Just one.

I took a deep breath, then asked that person, as calmly as I could muster, “How the fuck do you know my mother?”

Chet was out of his chair, grabbing me around the arm and dragging me out of the classroom and into the sunny courtyard outside.

I snatched my arm from his grasp, “How the fuck do you know my mother?”

“Trevion--”

“Who are you?”

“Listen--”

“How do you know her?!”

“I--”

“Who are you?!” With every passing second I was becoming more and more frantic.

“I was sent here.” He took a heavy, trembling breath. He was clearly very startled, but I couldn’t have cared less.

“Sent here?” I asked him, cringed, “Sent her for fucking what?”

He took a moment, caught my gaze and held it, “I was sent here to protect you.”

I asked him the only thing on my mind. The only thing I cared about. “Is Justin really going to die?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you know my mother?”

“She came to me…” He rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky for a long moment, then lowered them to me, “She came to me after she saved your life.”

“How could she have come to you after she saved my life? You’re the same age as me. I was six years old at the time.” My eye searched his suspiciously. The look on his face was answer enough. “Oh…” I took a hard breath, “Oh, you weren’t six years old when I was six years old.”

He looked away.

My chest constricted, “What are you?”

“I‘m not a what. I‘m a who.” Offense clouded his eyes, “Just like you.”

“You gave her the cure.” I gasped. It wasn’t even a question.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. “Trevion. You need to stay away from Justin Timberlake.”

“Why?” I cried.

“Because you already know too much and so does he.”

“What do you know?”

“I can’t do this. Not now.”

My lips tightened, “Oh we’re doing this. Right now.”

I turned to look behind me, just to make sure that no one was around when I unloaded on this fool, and when I turned back, he was gone.

Just gone.

I ran back to the dorm and told Kim everything.

--

By the time Justin’s show at the House of Blue’s rolled around, I was nothing short of panicked. First talking to Burns, then to Chet, my mind was in so much of a jumble that I was sure I wasn’t thinking straight when I walked into the House of Blues. Justin’s set was already over so I headed from there to the entrance of The Mandalay Bay where Rum Jungle was located.

The club was already popping and as I broke my neck to take it all in. I’d never been to a club in Vegas. I always assumed that most of them were dives that looked nothing short of old roach coaches that they threw a few speakers into an called a hangout. The Rum Jungle was far from a dump, however.

The monstrous entrance very closely resembled a rainforest. A rainforest with a beautiful waterfall and a Ludacris track playing so loudly in the background that it made the forest floors tremble. I turned to the entryway, saw my car parked in the lot and contemplated driving home. Maybe this was all bullshit. Maybe Burns had no idea what he was talking about.

Then Chet’s voice popped into my head. “Trevion. You need to stay away from Justin Timberlake.”

I didn’t know why, but for some reason his words sent a chill down my spine. For some reason, I just knew that he meant what he’d said. Every word. He hadn’t said that Justin needs to stay away from me. He hadn’t said that we need to stay away from each other. He said that I needed to stay away from him. And I knew why. I was a danger to him. To his family. To anything and everything that he loved. All because I’d kept him alive.

I was scared for Justin. Very much.

So I made my way up to the line that seemed never ending and was packed to the hilt with sluts, hoes, tramps and all of their boyfriends. It closely resembled a line at an amusement park, and I found myself looking around for the sign that would tell me exactly how long I could expect to wait. My head was quickly beginning to pound in tune with the music. I took my place at the end of the line.

One look at me and one of the guards at the front made his way over. He stopped directly in front of me, and I smiled nervously.  "How have I already managed to do something wrong?"

To my absolute surprise, he led me straight to the front of the amusement park line, opened the velvety rope and motioned me in. I realized that I probably wasn’t dressed appropriately in my blue jean skirt, chucks and Mickey Mouse t-shirt, especially since the people in line went out of their way to show their disapproval for the “slob” being let in before them, but I didn’t care. I had to break things off with Justin tonight, so my clothes hadn’t exactly been priority number one. Still, I was a little offended, and I threw them all a nasty look as I stepped past the rope and into Rum Jungle.

I took hesitant steps. The club was dark and loud, but that didn’t make the people dancing and drinking any less aware of me. I was immediately conscious to the fact that the general crowd was gawking at me, but all I could think about was Justin.

I took a seat at the bar and ordered the strongest drink in the place. I almost jumped out of my skin when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist.

I jumped out of my skin, then a chin rested on my shoulder and his smell wafted into my nostrils. As my drink was set down in front of me I willed myself to be strong about this.

“Be strong.” I took a long sip of my raspberry mojito and kept my eyes straight ahead.

Justin’s voice was deep in my ear, “I was looking for you at the show.”

I licked my lips, “I wasn’t there.”

“I noticed.”

I turned to him, caught his eyes and gaped. He wasn’t wearing black. He was wearing white. I’d never seen anything like it. He looked amazing. I gaped some more. Now. Do it now. I couldn’t speak.

“I have a table. Come on.” He tried to pull me.

I snatched my hand away, “I’m fine here.”

He squeezed in between me and the guy next to me and leaned against the bar. His face was mere inches from mine. As I looked at him, I realized that being this close to him was something that I would never grow used to. “Are you still mad?” He seemed concerned.

I made myself roll my eyes and look away.

“What do you need me to say, Trevion? Do you need me to apologize?  Because I will.” He waited, “… what’s wrong? You were fine earlier today.”

“Yeah, well, that was earlier.” I looked at him and forced myself, “Listen, Justin, I don’t think--”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t even mind saying it!” He laughed out loud, “It's getting easier and easier. I figure it's because I've never fucked up with a woman as much as I have with you.”

I sat, stone faced. Thankfully his speech had no affect on me, so I didn‘t have to fake that. I was used to his speeches. He was so good at throwing together a big jumble of words to get me all soft and forgiving, but it wasn't going to go down like that this time. There was too much at stake.

"Do you know that two minutes after I drove away from the airport I turned around? I turned around and when I couldn't find you I..." He paused. "I can't even describe the feeling I felt. I thought about something happening to you, how I would never forgive myself.  I called the room later on that day and Kim told me you were sound asleep. The relief I felt... It was like I was drowning and could suddenly breathe, again."

"Oh, Christ." I spat. At the look of confusion on his face, I almost punched him. I took another drink.

"Trev..." He tried to reach out to me, but I snapped away. He held his hand out in mid air, now looking annoyed, “What the hell--”

"You can't just come over here, recite some calculated speech that you probably planned the whole day, bat your eyelashes and put your hands all over me. You can't expect that to be it, Justin. It's doesn't work that way, anymore. It doesn't just make it better." I grabbed my drink, caught the bartender’s eyes, realized he was staring and stared back until he moved on.

"I know." Justin said. “Can we not fight? I know I fucked up.”

At this point I was seriously grasping at straws. He‘d said he was sorry, what? Five times now? I wasn‘t even mad. I just needed a reason to argue. I needed a way to infuriate him. I needed him to infuriate me--anything, but he wasn‘t giving me any material. There was only so long I could drag this out before I looked like an absolute head case.

"No, you don't know!" I screamed. "Why? Why did you have to be like that? No." I pushed his outstretched hands away. "Why, Justin? Why?"

"I don't know why. I feel like I don't know... anything, anymore. I just..." He frowned, deeply. "I love you. That's the only thing I'm ever sure of lately."

"No, Justin. When you love someone, you talk to them. You don't throw them out into the fucking street in the middle of the night in a city they don’t know just because your pride was broken."

"I didn't throw you out, you wanted to get out!"

"I didn't want to get out. I didn't, and you know that. You knew that, but you let me get out, anyway."

"So, I'm just supposed to read your mind, or what? I'm supposed to strap you down to the seat?"

Okay now he was pissing me off.

"You're supposed to care enough to do everything you can to keep me in that car. It was like you didn't even care. Like I was some girl you barely knew who you were giving a quick ride to the fucking corner store, or something. You throw the word love around like it's going out of style, but when it comes to showing it, you've got nothing."

"You actually have the nerve to talk to me about expressing my feelings? That's all I've been doing for the past two months. Expressing my feelings for you and waiting, hoping-- for anything, a look, a glance, a subtle remark to let me know if you felt the same way back. You are a closed book, you always have been, and it took me a long time to figure you out. And even longer to weasel my way into your good graces. Any other guy would have given up on your ass, but I didn't, because I care about you, so much. I had one night. One fucking night where I just didn't want to deal with it and now I'm insensitive and emotionless? That’s bullshit and you fucking know it, Trevion.” He was downright seething, and barked at the bartender, “Scotch on the rocks.” I guess I wasn’t the only one pissed off.

“Maybe you should have been like all the other guys, Justin. Maybe you should have just given up.” I skipped a beat, “Oh wait..." Swallowing hard, I laughed a bitter laugh. "You did that when you threw me out of your car.”

I looked away from him, unable to stand the sight of him so upset, and climbed out of my chair. Tears were coming to my eyes when I realized that he wasn’t going to make this easy. He was not going to make this easy, at all.

“Where are you going?” He asked when I climbed out of my chair.

“I’m leaving.” My eyes narrowed. Everyone was looking at us.

He threw his body in front of mine, “You’re leaving?!”

“People are looking.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

I watched him. He really didn’t.  I snatched my drink off of the bar and finished it off.  I figured this would all be much easier if I was tipsy.

“Look.” He blocked my path, “I’ve got one more day in Las Vegas. Then I’m on tour. I don’t want to argue with you.”

I looked him dead in the eye and slammed my glass down, “Fuck you.”

I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my arm, “What is wrong with you?”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I screamed it as loud as I could, and that was loud. So much so that it managed to stretch over the music and snatch the attention of every soul in our general area. I even scared myself a little bit, too. I stared up at him with as much hate as I could fake, “I hate you.” I spat.

The look on his face. It hurt me so much that I had to turn away because I couldn’t stand the sight.

I ran towards the door and out past the waterfall. The amusement park line was as long as it had been when I’d come in. The same people were still in line. I took a moment to notice that, then I was headed towards the door. As long as I could get to my car, as long as I could drive away I would be okay.

Justin had to go on tour which meant he wouldn’t be around to make me change my mind on this. He wouldn’t be around to undue something that had to be done. I thought about staying at Burns’ that night, just in case Justin decided to show up at my door.

I hated that he cared. It would only make all of this that much harder.

The parking lot was full or cars and devoid of people but my shoes squeaked. Every step I took was loud and inviting. I only prayed that there wasn’t a rapist or murderer hiding behind one of the cars. As soon as I was halfway in, though, I saw a group of guys. There were a lot of them, I’m talking twelve deep, and they were all suspiciously quiet. Of course, they’d chosen my car, of all the fucking cars in the lot, to have their little get together.

I cursed and turned away from them. I sighed, deeply, and made my way towards a hole in the wall at the side of the parking lot. It reminded me of the dangerous alleys I saw in movies, but still felt safer then going near those guys leaning on my car. There was a bench there that was relatively hidden and I would just hang out until they decided to leave. Or until Justin left. Then I could go back into the club and call Kim so she could drive down and walk me to my car.

My heart hurt with every step I took towards that bench. Everything inside of me wanted to run back into that bar and tell Justin that I didn’t care if he was a premature ejaculator. That we could work on that. That I loved him enough to work on that. Every inch of me wanted to pretend that Burns didn’t know what he’d been talking about. That I wasn’t a curse on Justin that would make his life miserable and eventually kill him.

The stinging fact of the matter was that Burns has never been wrong about anything. Ever. It was one of his worst qualities. I knew he wasn’t wrong about this.

The side of the building was very secluded and dimly lit, thankfully, and I hadn’t even realized how much my feet were hurting until the prospect of plopping my ass down on that bench gradually became my reality.

The second I turned my back to plop down, though, Justin’s eyes nearly ate me alive.

Too bad they scared the living fuck out of me first. I jumped back and grabbed my heart.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words powerfully, passionately, and there was no doubt in my mind that he meant them with every inch of everything inside of him.

My eyes hardened, “You fucking scared me.” I tried to look up into those eyes and not immediately love him down to his guts, but couldn’t, so I looked away, and went to sit.

He grabbed my arms, tight, fast, and pulled my body back up to his with such force that it stole my breath.

“Can’t you see that I can’t live without you?” He shook me, “I can’t breath without you?” He seemed to realize how tightly he was holding me, because his grip loosened. He spoke, very carefully, “From the first moment I laid eyes on you… after I landed back on the roof… I didn’t know if there was anything in the world I could buy you, or give you or do for you to properly communicate what you’ve done for me. Every time I look at you I love you more than I did the last time. Every second that you’re in my life is another second that I can never repay you enough. That’s why I bought you cars, and jewelry and a slew of other shit. I did all of those things because it was all I could do. Then… then you and I…” He smiled softly, “Evolved, so to speak. Things started to get more serious, and I thought, maybe, just maybe, this is how I can pay her back. Maybe if I can make her shake, and moan, and cum… maybe then she’ll have even an iota of an idea of how good she’s been making me feel since the moment I laid eyes on her.” His eyes hardened. “The one thing…” He took a quick, shaky breath, “The one thing I can do for you… I can’t even fucking do. The one thing I can really do for you… I fuck it up.”

My eyes searched his frantically. I refused to believe the sight they delivered. The tears in his eyes, the tremble in his chin, the hunger, the desperation. “Don’t…” My body physically shook, that’s how much it hated saying the words, “Touch me.” I finished, then snatched my arms from his.

Justin was fucking horrified. I’d never seen him so horrified.

I tried to walk away. He followed.

I moved to the left. So did he. To the right. He did that to. I tried to push past him, but that was just stupid. Just another excuse for him to grab me. Just a perfect way to make it harder to walk away, because it meant he was touching me.

“I’m trying to walk away from you if you don’t fucking mind.”

“You’re walking away… but you don’t really want to.”

I smiled for the first time that night and immediately regretted it. The way his eyes drank in the sight, like it was water to a dry throat, made it all the more clear what a mistake it was. “That’s the defense summoned by rapists. It is a crime of power, after all,” My eyes took in his hands, which were clasping my wrists to numbing levels, “I suppose you fit the bill.”

He slammed me back against the wall. I was tempted to look out into the parking lot to see if those guys could see us. I could certainly hear them, but since I couldn’t manage to split my gaze from Justin, there was no way to know for sure.

His eyes were somewhat crazed. I’d never seen him this way. I kind of liked it.

As I stared at him, took in his scent, enjoyed his commanding hold and how powerless I was below it, I knew that I needed him.

Just once. One last time.

Tears came to my own eyes at the thought.

He drug my arms up against the wall until they were above my head, then laid against me. His weight bared down and pressed me against the wall until every available inch of my body was touching it and him.

I pushed back against him. Responding. Just feeling him, aroused, drove me absolutely insane. Just the fact that he was holding my wrists, touching me, had me turned on to perverse levels. I was already completely ready for him. From the moment he’d first laid those hands on me in the bar I’d been ready for him. I knew what he could do with those hands, those fingers-- my body knew, and it responded accordingly. Every piece of us that could be touching was. My breasts crashed into his chest, stomach to stomach, hip to hip. Every breath he took I took with him. Every beat of his heart fought against mine. Two losing battles.

His breath danced against my mouth. I wanted to kiss him and I didn’t. “What? Are you going to force me?” I gasped. His breath came harder, but I still couldn’t feel his lips. Normally bright blue eyes had gone almost grey, and when I lifted my leg and wrapped it around his slim hips, I was sure they’d gone black. “Do it.” I whispered. I dropped my leg, frantically pulled my thong off and wrapped it back around him. With my calf I pulled him tight against me and raised my skirt up around my naked hips. He was hesitant, but that didn’t last long. His large hand cupped my ass, he squeezed, then yanked my hips to his, hard. Instinctively, I grinded against the bulge in his pants. My hands grew a mind of their own. The button of his pants popped. The zipper came down. A foot that I wasn’t sure was my own pushed them off his hips, my toes finished the job. “Do it.” I whispered. There was no way for him to know that this was the first and last time we could ever do this. I would never tell him. We would do it and I would end it, but I needed it right then, just that once. I needed something to hold onto.

“I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. When you asked me to… and I couldn’t. I just…” He took in a deep breath when his underwear joined his pants on the concrete. I wrapped an arm around his neck and tried to pull his lips to mine. He pulled back, looked deep into my eyes and whispered, “I just lost it, baby.”

I took a deep breath.

“I just lost it, please forgive me.”

He was the last person that needed to be forgiven. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Not one thing. It was all me. I wanted to close my eyes against the vision of pain in his own, but it was like a deadly drug. I knew I should quit it, right at that second and not a second later, but he was too captivating. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him lift me.

“I wont fuck it up, again.” My hips were tight in his hands, legs around his waist, and I threw my head back as I sank down onto him, slowly, inch by delicious inch. We both cried out. The sensation was too much.

With a heavy, withering moan of submission, he thrust into me without another thought, another word or another moment of uncertainty.

I cried out as he filled me and buried my head in his neck. It took my body a moment to accommodate him, but only a moment. Then I was a woman lost. He rocked, slowly, so tenderly that it shook me to my toes. A need so strong engulfed me and invaded my every sense. I pushed, and swirled and bounced and grinded to my hearts content, clawing at the wall, his back, anything I could get to. Every little sound that left those wet, parted lip of his only drove me crazier. When I covered them with my own, and he slid his tongue past my lips, never missing a beat, I knew I never wanted this to end.

It wasn’t long before my back was hitting the wall. Our skin collided and made it’s own special music that grew louder and louder with each torturous thrust. Oh, this was nothing like the night before. Nothing at all. My hands slithered under his shirt and I brought it with me as I clawed up his chest, biting his lips, his shoulders, his neck, anything to keep my cries as quiet as I could.

My fingers clawed at his hair, I grabbed it and pulled as I groaned and withered on top of him.

He closed his cloudy eyes, threw his head back and plunged deep. I absorbed every inch of him, wrapping my legs around him as tight as they would go. Pounding down against his every thrust. Stroke for stroke, I met him and came first, moaning deeply. I could feel my inner muscles contracting around him, milking him. His fingers dug into the small of my back and his voice trembled as he opened his fiery eyes, gasping, “Fuck, Trev… I can’t--”

“Come on.” I watched him while he came, the way he threw his head all the way back, the strength of his jaw, tightly closed eyes and parted lips that filled the area with the echo of his desire as he slowly came down from the dying waves. He pounded into me, inhibitions gone, shuddered deeply and moaned my name. I stroked him and caressed him until every last breath was stolen from his lips and his fingers eased up from where they’d been clawing at my skin. He collapsed against me, pressing me even harder against the wall. I would have a few impressive bruises come morning, but I didn‘t care.

I dropped one leg from around his waist. It landed on the ground with a dull thud. Then the other. He slid slowly out of me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I held him back, burying my head in his neck.

“I don’t ever want to live without you.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said that to me, but it was the first time that I believed him.

That was what made it so hard to pull away, which I did. We both dressed, quietly. I was vaguely aware of his eyes on me. The smile on his face. I pulled myself together and stared at the ground for a long while. Then I looked back up at him. His face was bright, again. As if he didn’t have a care in the world.

He took my hand and pulled me away from the wall. I took one step, and anther, before pulling back. “What?” He asked. Watching him under the dim lights, licking his lips, I hated myself. More so, I hated the monster I had growing inside of me. Anything that would keep me from seeing that face, feeling those hands, experiencing every inch of the man in front of me was something that I would hate to my very bones until the day I died. “Your eyes.” He softly spoke, reaching up and running his finger under and around each of my eyes slowly. “They’re different.”

My eyes narrowed, “The magic of make-up.”

“No.” He shook his head, “They’re…” He sighed, “They’re different.”

I couldn’t respond. The pain was hiding my words, stealing them.

“I love you.” He whispered.

This had to end. Right now. I couldn’t take another second.

“Walk me to my car.” I demanded.

And he did. The group of guys that had been surrounding my car were gone now.

Justin wrapped his arms around me from behind and whispered in my ear, “You want to come back inside? Timbaland really wants to meet you… Nelly, too.”

My head snapped to him, eyes wide. Timbaland? Nelly? Oh my fucking god.

Then my brain started working, again.

I pushed his hands away, “Actually… I’ve got a lots of stuff to… take care of… tonight.” I took my hand through my hair and looked away. Christ, looking at him wouldn’t work. It was agony.

Justin took a moment. “Okay.” He was clearly desperate to avoid confrontation of any kind. “I’ll take you to breakfast. I leave tomorrow afternoon. To Phoenix.”

This wasn’t going to be easy. The look in his eyes leveled me. It was nothing compared to the way he looked at me when I shook my head and said, very carefully, “No.” I should have never let it go this far. I felt like if I was with him for another minute, I would cave. Having breakfast couldn’t happen. We couldn’t even be friends. Not ever. “No.” I said, again, more solidly.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and his jaw tightened. For a long moment he just stood there, considering me. “Why?” He asked in a voice that tried to be collected, but was anything but.

I licked my lips. With every acting skill I could muster, which was none, I tried to pull off hesitancy, then told him, “I have a date.”

I could not read his face. Not at all. “You have a date?”

“With Chet.” I added, just for affect. It worked. But I couldn’t say another word. Even if I could think of one, which I couldn’t, I knew nothing else would come out of my mouth. If I spoke another full sentence I knew I would collapse into tears at his feet. Every moment that I wanted to give in, and that was every moment that existed and every breath I took, I tried to imagine all the bad things that could happen. I imagined him being in some sort of accident. I imagined his house burning down while he was on tour. I imagined his life being completely miserable through no fault of his own. Then, surprisingly, I imagined Steven-- something happening to Steven. It sickened me to my very bones. So much so that I looked right into Justin’s stricken eyes scowled, and spat, “We jumped into all of this way to fast and honestly--” I motioned to the wall, “I need to feel chemistry with the man I’m going to be with and I don’t feel that with you. Let’s be honest. This thing has run it’s course. For me, anyway.” Lies, lies, lies! “You should go on tour. Have fun.”

I could see his hands shaking where they were shoved in his pockets. He cut his eyes at me, “This isn’t just about the other night.” He knew me very well.

I didn’t deny it.

“What is this about, Trevion?” He gave me a moment, “Look at me.”

The demanding tone in his voice was strong and I was raising my eyes to his before I knew what I was doing.

“Why are you doing this?” He gave me two seconds to respond, “Don’t do this…”

“I have to go…” I motioned to my car.

“Don’t do this to me.”

I doubled. There it was. “Don’t do this to you? Jesus Christ, Justin you are so pathetic! What kind of a man are you? I just gave you some ass, I’m trying to walk away and you’re standing there damn near tears?” I licked my lips and avoided his eyes, “You know, I was trying to be nice about it, but… I guess with you I’m just going to have to spell it out.” I looked him dead in the eyes, “I don’t want to be with you. Okay?”

“You’re calling me pathetic?” He motioned to himself as his nostrils flared. “A girl who is so damn intent on being alone for the rest of her life that she dumps the only good thing she has going on has the nerve to call me pathetic? Fuck you, Trevion!”

Whoa! I wasn’t expecting that. I actually jumped. “You honestly believe that you’re the only good thing I’ve got going on in my life? Hello Captain Conceit.”

“Let’s think about it, shall we?” He began counting off on his fingers, “You drove your mother away, you drove your father away, you drove Burns away. Any person, man or woman, white or black, who is stupid enough to want some part in your miserable life… you drive them away. And now you’re driving me away. Who does that leave? Kim? A red-headed freak of nature who listens to Slipknot and only associates with you because you’re the only person in existence that’s even angrier than she is? Why are you so desperate to be alone? What are you so fucking afraid of, Trevion, that you have to treat me this way?”

“Since the moment I saved you life that night you have been nipping at my heels ever since! I go out to eat. You’re there. I go back to the dorm. You’re there. I go take a shit. You’re there. On the rare occasions that you’re not following me like a sick fucking puppy, you’re calling me up like a sick fucking puppy. I’m tried of it, Justin! I’m tired of you buying me shit! I’m tried of the googly eyes you throw at me! I’m tired of you insisting I go EVERYWHRE with you because you’re too weak to handle you life on your own! I’m tried of you! I'm hated by half of the people on my campus. I can't go to class, to the grocery store or even to the fucking bathroom without somebody saying something to me. I've been in two fights and I've got one more before the dean of students expulses me. My life is a nightmare and you do nothing to help matters! You only make them worse! I’m supposed to be the woman in this relationship. I’m supposed to be the one who needs help getting up when she falls but it has never been that way. For the love of god be a man, Justin.” I took a deep breath, shocked that this was happening. I’d never meant for it all to go this far. I was trembling. “Just be a fucking man.”

“It’s hard to be a man when the woman you love has a bigger dick than you do.”

My nostrils flared.

He held his hands out, “If you hated having me around so badly then maybe you should have let me fucking jump.”

“Maybe I should have.”

Justin’s entire body went still. Even his eyes. “You’re the smallest person I’ve ever known.” He said the words with contempt, “You always have been. And, you’re right, I did follow you around everywhere. I did need you with me… but, I’m better now. I’m seeing you, Trevion. I’m seeing you perfectly fucking clearly and I honestly can’t understand how I could have wasted three months of my life on a woman like you.”

“So why don’t you just go back to Britney, then?”

“Maybe I will.”

I looked away.

“Congratulations, Trevion. You want to get rid of me that, badly? You want me out of your life right here, right now--congratulations.” When he began backing away, I had to fight not to reach for him, “You got it.” He turned his back to me, jammed his hands in his pockets, and walked briskly back to the club.

When he stepped inside, everyone cheered.

--

“You fucked him?! You fucked him, Trevion? YOU FUCKED HIM?”

I sat in the middle of my twin bed, pretending to pay attention to the channels I was flipping through. Only when the remote was ripped from my hand and thrown clear across the room did I blink. When it hit the wall and shattered, I looked up at Kim and gave her the first real response that I had all night.

She looked downright manic, eyes big, teeth bared, hands in claws, “Why?!” She cried, screamed, begged. “Why?!”

I blinked.

“Are you that heartless?”

Ironically, my heart skipped, “You don’t know the situation.” My voice shook.

“I know enough!” She was officially screaming at the top of her lungs.

I was growing angry, “Since when are you the President of the Justin Brigade, huh? If memory serves you were one of the first people telling me that you were sick of seeing his face around here so much.”

“That was before…”

I waited for her to finish. When she didn’t, my nostrils flared, “Before what, Kim? Since you’ve got so god damn much to say. Before what?”

She shook her head at me, looked away and seemed to seriously entertain the action of walking the fuck out and never coming back. Just as I was sure she was about to honor that possibility, her head shot back to mine, “That was before I saw how much he loved you.”

“You don’t think this is hard for me, Kim?” I held my heart, waited, then my voice rose, “Huh?”

Slim, pale arms crossed tight over her chest, “I do think it’s hard for you. I think that you love him just as much as he loves you, if not more.” Her lips tightened, “But that doesn’t make it right. Just because you have to be in so much pain doesn’t mean you have to drag him down with you. You have to leave him, you have to break it off, I understand that. Your choices aren’t exactly expansive. If you don’t leave him he could die, so… I understand.” She paused, “What I don’t understand is why you would go to a bar in the sluttest outfit you could find with no real goal outside of making him eat his heart out even though you know that you’re going to leave him. What I don’t understand is that you’d let a man inside of you knowing that you’re going to have to leave him. What I don’t understand, Trevion, is that you would soberly allow that man to fall even deeper into a hole that he’s already been immersed in from day one knowing that you’re going to leave him. That, Trevion Spencer, is fucking selfish!”

“Okay, Kim. Less talking, more breathing.”

“Do you even know if it’s okay to have sex with him? If all it takes is your mere presence to make his life a disaster how could fucking him be any better? What if you wake up and he’s dead tomorrow? Is that what it’s going to take? Is that what it’s going to take to make you open your fucking eyes and realize that it’s not just you going through this, but him?”

“He is the reason that I’m in this agony. He is the reason that this is all happening. If I didn’t love Justin I wouldn’t be leaving him. Everything I do is for him. Everything. And that goes double for the last few days.”

“So that’s why you fucked him when you could have just walked away. Right?”

“You have no idea how hard this is.” My voice was but a rasp. “You have no idea.”

“You better not say even another fucking word to me, I will kick your fucking ass if you say another word to me.” Kim was really mad, and I knew this only because she’d never behaved more like a deranged white girl than she was in that very moment. It was as if she could see my thoughts, because her nostrils flared, her face went bright red, “I can’t even look at you--you make me sick.” She snatched up her jacket, opened the door and slammed it shut.

The walls quivered.

Kind of the way every bone in my body had been for the last few days. A very consistent, very steady quiver. I held both of my hands up, fingers outstretched. Quiver, they did.

What did I do after that? What did I do after a day of finding out the only man I’d ever loved was doomed as long as he was with me, having sex with said man and being emblazed in a flame of guilt by a roommate that had never been more right?

What would any woman do?

I turned off the TV, turned off the lights, laid in my bed…

And fucking cried.

Someone knocked on the door. For the first time, I knew it wasn’t Justin. And for the first time… I really didn’t like that.

I dragged ass to the door and threw it open, still blubbering and doing little or nothing to hide it.

“Um…” Chet seemed to come to a compete stand-still, physically, mentally and emotionally the second he laid eyes on me. He narrowed those honey browns of his, and seemed completely intent on running in the other direction, but he relented, and held his hands out. “I have some information… but I should probably warn you that crying women make me extremily uncomfortable.”

I wiped my nose, then my eyes (probably shouldn’t have done it in that order), then ran my had through my hair. It needed to be permed like, last month. Yes, I was a hot mess. Why and how Justin Timberlake could ever have sex with me would forever be a mystery. “I’m sorry… I’m just a little upset. The past few days have been a lot,” I took a deep, shaky breath, “A lot to take in.”

Chet gave me a moment, then smiled, “I understand.”

It was a pair of words that were often said to me in my life, but for the first time, I genuinely believed them. For the first time, they brought me a true comfort. “You do?”

He nodded, “I do. Time heals all wounds. It’s annoying an cliché, but god damn if it isn’t true. And can I just say, thank you for not wrapping your hands around my neck the moment you saw me.”

“I don’t have it in me.” I really didn’t.

“I promise I’ll explain… everything. The truth takes time, Trevion.”

I threw him a look, “I guess I’m not the only Alias fan in the room.”

He sighed. “You freaked me the hell out when you burst into Bio class like that. I didn’t see that coming.”

“Well, neither did I.”

“How did you figure me out?”

“I had a dream.”

He guffawed.

I ran my hand down my face, “My mother… my mother had a picture of you hanging from the mirror of her car.”

“Dreams can be dead on when they want to be.”

I studied him, “Apparently.”

“I have this book.” He held up a rather large and thick book in his hands, “It’s an old prophecy. About a woman with powers. Her sister tried to jump off the side of a bridge. And she saved her in mid-fall.” He fiddled with it, tossing it back and forth in his big hands, “Sound familiar?”

“Vaguely.” I said, dryly.

“It’s all in French, which poses a bit of a problem. Do you speak French?”

With every passing second I was becoming more and more aware that the man in front of me had been lying to me for the last three months. “Who are you?”

“I’m the man who’s here to help you.”

“Are you really a college student? A football player? Basketball player? Is your name really Chet Rodriguez?”

“Yes to all of the above.”

“How old are you?”

“I don’t age.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Don’t look so impressed. It’s not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Why didn’t you tell me from the start?”

“Because sometimes the truth can be dangerous. Sometimes it’s better left unsaid.”

“Sometimes people deserve to know the fucking truth. Especially if it involves them and the people they…” I bit my lip and looked away.

“I know what it’s like when you can’t get someone’s face out of your head. I know what it’s like to lose that person. I know what it’s like to be different. I know what you’re going through, Trevion.” The book dropped to his side, “You just have to trust me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay…” His head fell and he laughed, “I suppose that’s a start.”

“I think you should leave.”

“Really?”

“Yes, if you want to keep both of your arms, yes.”

“But don’t you want answers? Don’t you have questions?”

I forced myself to focus, “You say that book has information. You also say it’s in French. Have you already managed to translate the entire text?” I looked at my watch, “In four and a half minutes? That’s rather impressive.”

“No, not the entire thing. Just the important parts.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, I was wrong earlier about you cutting things off with Justin, cold turky. Don’t do that.”

My face went cold.

So did his, “You’ve already done that.”

“You do see my face right now, right?” I pointed to my face, which still felt puffier than a marshmallow.

“You broke up with him?” Chet asked me this as if he couldn’t believe his ears. If I wasn’t crazy I’d say I detected a bit of glee in his tone, but I wasn’t conscious enough of anything outside of Justin Timberlake to really tell.

“You and Burns both tell me that a curse has been put on Justin and myself-- that I’m a danger not only to his life but to all the people around him? That you’re not sure how or when he’s going to die but that our being together for another second is pretty much a guarantee of his inevitable demise? Yeah,” I nodded frantically, “Yeah, I kind of broke up with him. A girl tends to do crazy things like that when she hears she‘s more dangerous to her boyfriend than an entire gallon of rat poison.” The shock on my face was quickly boiling over to fury.

Chet, clearly aware that I was about one sentence away from wrapping my arms around his neck, held his hands out, “I‘m sorry.” He said quickly.

After the emotional rollercoaster I’d just been on, I couldn’t believe the words he was saying to me. “I need to sit down.” I said.

“Can you make it to the gym?”

“I think so.”

“Let’s walk there. I’ve got fifteen minutes before practice.”

Ten minutes later we were sitting on the bench, a place that felt right at home to me and immediately brought back all kinds of awful middle school PE memories. A few dozen frighteningly tall men with bafflingly good aim had already started practice without their teammate.

“Trevion? Pay attention.”

I blinked, then looked at Chet, “I’m sorry, I spaced.”

“I have five minutes.” He waited until he had my full attention, then pointed to an except in the book he had opened on his lap. I leaned closer to him to get a better look. He followed the words with his pointer finger as he read it in French. When he finished, he looked at me, “It says here that the curse doesn’t always result in death. Sometimes it’s just a string of a few unfortunate incidents. A little bad luck.”

“So if I stay with Justin he’ll just have bad luck for the rest of his life? This is why you’re telling me to stay with him? No, Chet. If I’m a detriment to Justin in any way then I don’t want to be near him, at all. Do you know that he’s being sued? He has a lot… a lot of shit to deal with. The last thing he needs is me around with my stupid powers and my stupid bad luck to bring him down.”

“I understand. But we need to know what kind of curse has been put on you, Trevion. We need to know so that we can treat it. You can’t try to--”

“Change it or bargain with it. I know. Burns and I have been through all of this. He thinks it’s Death doing all of this. Like the guy with the cape and pointy stick, Death.”

Chet guffawed, and I was secretly relieved that he found this insane enough to laugh at. “I’m not even going to get into how wrong that is, but… your therapist or whatever the hell he is, Burns, he’s on the right track when he tells you that all of these things are happening because you saved Justin’s life. For all we know, you’re not cursed, at all. Maybe you saved Justin and, for some reason, you were spared. Maybe this curse isn’t as intense as the one’s in the prophesies. Maybe no one is meant to die, at all. For all we know, completely breaking ties with him cold turkey could be the one thing that kills him for good. It’s too uncertain to make any rash decisions like that. The ice is way too thin.”

“That’s a whole lot of maybes and not enough facts for me to be even remotely comfortable with this.”

“You have to listen to me. This is important. I don’t know this curse. Very few people do. I’m not going to sit here and pretend I understand it. What I do understand is this… your powers are complicated-- Whatever placed this curse on you, let it be god, death or even the living thing inside of you… it’s not so dim. The only way we can even begin to stop it is if we know what we’re dealing with.”

I shook my head at him.

“I know you want to scream why me? Believe me, I know. But I… we…” He caught my eyes, “We can fix this, Trevion. We can reverse it. Even if it means…”

My eyes widened, “Even if it means what?”

He stared at me, “Do you trust me?”

I stared back, “Do I have a choice?”

“Find Justin. Fix what you’ve broken. We’ll monitor it. If a month goes by and nothing happens. Good. If two months go by, okay. Three months. Great. I know that his step-father died a while ago--”

“How do you know that?”

“Don’t freak out--”

“I’m freaking out. Who are you?”

“Trevion?” He watched me for a moment, “There’s a little picture and there’s a big picture. Let’s focus on them both, but one at a time.” He held his hands out, “Big picture, please. I know that his step-father died. That could very well be it. That could very well be all that’s needed to even the score.”

“Don’t say that so nonchalantly. That was Justin’s father. Justin loved that man very much. Besides, killing Paul is one hell of a shitty way to punish me.”

“Is it? Someone you love was hurting. Really hurting. Didn’t that hurt you, too, in the long run?”

“I suppose.”

“We can stop it.” Chet said, with so much passion that I actually believed him. But the only way we can stop it is to know what we’re dealing with.”

“You keep saying that you can stop it-- You can’t even tell me what it is. You can’t even tell me what exactly makes you so sure that you can stop it. The only thing you’ve ever been clear with me on is that you gave my mother the cure and, honestly, I’m still not completely clear on that either.” I touched my head, “All I’m really clear on is that I hate myself, I hate what I have inside of me and I hate, I hate, I hate…” I sighed when Chet’s coach demanded he be on the court in thirty seconds, or else. “I hate that Justin is apart of it. I hate that I found him on the roof that night. If I’d never found him he would have never had to go through all of this.” Tears came to my eyes.

“Trevion. Look at me.” Chet waited for my eyes to meet his, “If you’d never found him… he would be dead.”

--

Later on I knocked on the door of Justin’s condo. Of course, Trace answered.

“Thank god!” I beamed. “I thought Justin emptied this place.”

“He did. But he had it all put back in today.”

“Oh.” I considered him, them smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His voice was short. He wanted me gone.

I pointed to the door and tried to smile, “Can I come in?”

“On one condition.” I’d never seen Trace respond so quickly. I didn’t even know his little brain worked that fast.

I held my arms out, “What the condition, then?”

“I’m having a little bit of a movie night.” He stepped away from the door and held it open, “Why don’t you join me?”

I hesitated, stepped into the condo, looked into his eyes, hesitated again, then made my way past him. He slammed the door. Hard.

I walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. He fell onto in next to me.

As I removed my jacket I realized that there was a video playing on the screen. It was a home movie and it didn’t take me long to realize that Justin was on one side of the camera and Trace was on the other.

I looked at him, “What is this?”

He leaned against he arm of the couch with his hand covering half of his mouth, “Just watch.”

I fought not to laugh. As much as I hated to admit it, Trace did have a point. I tore my eyes away from the screen to shoot him a quick look. He was all the way on the other end of the couch. Like a typical guy, his entire body was practically molded into the cushions and his legs sat wide open. What stood out the most, though, was the look in his eyes as he watched this film. It was clear to both of us that the Justin on that tape was not the same Justin that we knew today. In a way, I wanted to cry for Trace as he gazed sadly at the television, lights dancing against his skin in the dark. The person on the screen was a complete stranger to me. But to Trace, it was the Justin he'd always known.

The Justin he missed.

His brown eyes hung heavy with sadness and I finally realized what a selfish bitch I'd been to him this entire time. How could I blame him for being the way he'd been for the past month? He was struggling to save his friend and I was taking him away. We were both fighting for the same man, but two different people.

He laughed, suddenly, and pointed to the screen, my eyes meeting his. "For real, though, what the fuck would you do if Justin got you a wedding ring with dolphins? You would shit a brick, right?"

I looked towards the screen, taking in the sight. Justin was frowning at the camera, though a smile still dressed his lips.

I gagged, inwardly pleased when Trace laughed.

"The Pussy Patrol was always ready for duty when Justin was around." He beamed.

"Did I mention you were a pig?"

"Once or twice." He glanced at me. The urge to cringe at him, just to ensure that my deep hatred was being properly communicated, was nowhere near as strong as it was before. As the two of us gazed at one another, we had a silent understanding.

"I showed you this for a reason." He said, stopping the movie and grabbing the disk from the DVD player. He cleaned it off of his shirt and began putting it back into the case. "Justin loved Britney. He loved her a whole lot."

I nodded.

Trace set the case on the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest. "He bought that ring seven hours before he caught Britney with JC. She thought he was in Canada doing some show for Much Music. He was right up the street. Fifteen minutes away."

My eyes widened and I found it difficult to breath past my heart, which had damn near stopped.

"Justin's not the same person he was before all of that happened. He's changed in so many ways, and I blame her for that. I also blame you for that."

I frowned up at him. I wanted to say something to him that would hurt him as much as those words hurt me but I could think of nothing.

"I blame you for keeping him here. I blame you for changing him. I blame you for being a complete bitch to him, messing with his mind when it's fucking obvious to all of us that you care about him just as much as he cares about you. If not more." He paused, shaking his head. "I don't know what Justin sees in you. I don't pretend to understand the bond that you two have. I just know... I know him. He cared about that girl, and she hurt him so fucking bad. I wont let that happen, again."

I scoffed. "What are you gonna do? Drag me to the village square and have me stoned in front of the town's people?"

"You have the power to hurt him the way she hurt him."

"I highly doubt that."

"Can't you see how much he needs you?"

After he said the words, I stared up at him for so long that I lost track. I could hardly believe that the words had come out of the man's mouth. Especially since I'd branded him an inconsiderate prick from the moment I'd met him. I wanted to answer his question, since I actually didn't know how much Justin needed me. What I did know was how much I needed him.

A little too much for comfort.

Trace gazed at me for a while longer, then shook his head, “He’s in his room, Sunshine.”

--

Justin’s room was dark, but I knew my way around it. He was lying on his bed flipping through the channels. He saw me come in, but he didn’t greet me or even move.

I climbed onto the bed, then paused. He didn’t try to stop me. Slowly, I crawled up to him, then threw a leg over his body so I was straddling his waist. I held myself in a sit-up position above him, nose to nose, then stretched my entire body out of top of his. Laying on his stomach, I felt his strength and devoured it.

He took a deep breath and cringed, but didn’t push me away.

I set each of my elbows on his shoulders and ran my fingers through his hair, gently. My body rose and fell with each breath he took and I noticed as every taunt feature on his face gradually relaxed. I never wanted to forget this feeling. After a few long moments of silence, I felt the remote in his hand touch the small of my back. It moved up, all the way up my back to the base of my neck, then back down again.

I twisted a brown curl around my finger, realizing how long his hair was getting, and mentally traced the blue and grey designs in his eyes. To know that I could be responsible for those eyes closing and never opening again was enough to bring tears to my own. “I’m sorry.” My lips curled down and I shook my head. I wanted to tell him that I hadn’t meant the words I‘d said. That I’d never mean them. That I’d only said them to protect him. Then I remembered what Chet had said earlier. The more Justin knew the more in danger he was in. So I just said, “I’m sorry.” Over and over until the tears in my eyes turned to sobs.

Even after he told me it was okay, that he’d said things too, and wrapped his arms all around me, the tears wouldn’t stop coming. The tighter he held me, the more powerfully my body shook.

I’ve never cried the way I cried that day.