There goes the light bulb. It’s currently laying on the ground in teeny pieces. Now you might want to know how it got there, and I’m getting to that in just a second.

“I DID NOT FUCKING COME ALL THE WAY OUT HERE TO BE TURNED THE FUCK AROUND!” I’m silently in my head counting to ten to at least try to get this situation under control. It’s too bad it’s not working.

“Why are you yelling at me? I haven’t done a damn thing to you. Don’t make me start to yell back Madi. You know I’ve got vocals.” My intense stare that I mentioned earlier has lost its magic on Trace Ayala. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. Otherwise he would restate what he just came into my hotel room to tell me. This is a different hotel room mind you. I moved over for the night into Justin’s hotel in order for it to be more convenient for him.

I get a knock on my door at 11:00 at night. I’m just coming out of the shower dressed in my cute penguin pajamas. I get dressed in them late usually so that nobody will have the privilege of seeing them on me. Well, it looks like its that bastard Trace’s lucky night. He comes in and stands there all macho looking and quietly and politely informs me that my services are no longer needed on the tour. When I ask why, he just says he thinks his little visits to Justin will have to suffice. Well if your little visits did the trick, why the fuck did I just go out of my way to be here?

“WHY AM I YELLING AT YOU? WHAT KIND OF IDIOT ARE YOU?” I’m trying to count to ten again. So far I’ve gotten to one and sounding out the t of two. I’m not upset. I’m officially pissed the fuck off.

“MADI! I came in here to do this nicely, but if you want to have it your way, FINE!” And here comes the explanation as to why there is a light bulb shattered on the ground. Me throwing it at the wall behind Trace certainly did the trick. I think that was the first object I threw at him that actually ever broke. I’ve never seen his eyes so big. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so mad either.

“Don’t ask me to apologize for that because you FUCKING DESERVED IT!” I wonder what the record is for how many cuss words you can use in a fight because I have a feeling I’m fixing to put it to the test.

“Madi. I’ve booked your flight. You leave tomorrow at 8 in the morning. End of discussion.” End of discussion my ass. Trace should know me better than this. If he thinks I’m going to let him just traipse all over me just because he’s the boss and he owns a big percentage of the company, he can go stick it up his ass.

“Don’t fucking call me Madi! Why the hell are you calling me Madi? My name is MADISON. Would you like me to spell it?” If it’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being called Madi all the time. Only the ones dearest to my heart are allowed to call me that disastrous nickname and one of those people is not Trace at the moment. I thought when somebody was mad at you they showed it by heavily pronouncing your full name not chopping it to bits and spitting it back out.

“You are crossing the line. I’m not going to stand here and take this. I’m leaving. Just make sure your ass is on that plane tomorrow.” I have to bite my tongue to keep from picking up a book I was reading earlier and chunking it at his head. Maybe it would make him a little dizzy.

“Trace, did Justin tell you to send me home? I know it’s not like you to send anybody packing for no reason at all. Just let me know if Justin did this, and I will calm down and forget you ever said anything to me.” I say this statement in a nice voice to see what exactly he will say next.

“No…I mean yes he did, but,” And that was all he had to say because I’m out of the door in a heartbeat. I’ve got my penguin pajamas on, I’m barefoot, and I’m storming down the hallway faster than anybody can say the stupid ass name Madi.

“You said you would forget I said anything!” Trace is practically running to catch up with me. I’m just walking very fast. What a midget. I knew he would fall for that lame ass trick.

“Yeah, I would forget YOU said anything. You are forgiven,” And by that time I have reached Justin’s door and begin to bang loudly. I could bang all night long with how mad I am right now. So for the people actually sleeping in this hotel, they better hope he answers. And he answers with a beer in his hand. Great. It’s obvious he just got here from his oh so mighty club appearance at the club. His shirt is disheveled and his pants are undone, his belt hanging lopsided. I watch as he looks from my head down to my bare feet. Well manicured feet at that. I push him into his own room and follow after him. Trace tries to come in, but I slam the door on him and lock it so fast it bumps his forehead a little.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Did I mention I was very blunt and sometimes overly dramatic? I get pissed off quite easily and this is one of those moments. At the exact time he says this, I think I hear a feminine growl like sound. And it did everything but turn me on. I am furious. Whoever his little girl toy for the night is, is in for a rude awakening. I push past Justin and into the bedroom where I see some little downtown whore like I thought. Pretty, but clueless.

“Honey, you can stick around if you want. But I suggest you get dressed because I’m going to be awhile.” I’m polite to her. I can’t believe how nice I am. But after all, the girl did not do anything to me, just her dick for the night did.

“What the FUCK?” I turn around to face an evil Justin who is pulling his cell phone out no doubt to call one of his dumb ass security men into the room to pull me out. I take his phone and turn it off. The girl on the bed is glued to the sheets obviously because she hasn’t moved.

“Mr. Timberlake, I am a woman of pride. I do not take shit off of anybody. If you want me off this tour tell me your damn self. Don’t send Trace to do it for you. Have you got any balls? I am excellent at my job. I flew completely across country for you. It was not just to be sent home. I’ve worked long and hard hours to prepare for this trip, and don’t tell me I did it for nothing. Just because you have a stick up your ass, doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me. Now I’m TELLING you politely that I’m not leaving. I will not bother you unless I need to tell you something. I have no use for you, but I believe you have a use for me. I’m very thankful for everything I have been given, but I will not stand here and take anybody’s shit.” I have balls. Yes I do. Even I didn’t know I had ones that large though. I feel like grabbing my crotch and parading around like pigheaded men do. I mean it’s kind of like I just smoked a big fat juicy joint and having the high of my life. That is until I look at Justin’s face. His eyes are doing that bulge thing that one of those women on Ripley’s Believe It of Not was very good at. Looking at him now, I think he could even give her a run for her money. He’s just standing there quiet. It’s eerie. Kind of like the calm before the storm.

“Get dressed and go.” So, he’s not even talking to me? That’s a good sign I guess. The girl from behind me is gathering her clothes and putting them on as fast as she can. I would too with that look Justin is giving her. But I have this feeling that he’s really meaning that look for me. She scampers out of the room. Dammit! I forgot I locked Trace out. He comes running in like a bat out of hell.

“Listen here. I am the boss of this tour. I run this shit. If I want you out, I want you out. No questions asked.” Is that all he’s going to say to me? Really? After my big performance that’s all he says?

“Give me a reason.” It’s like arguing with a fence post. I always do it to everybody. I have to have the last word. I will have the last word by the end of the night and be on the winning side.

“Because I don’t befriend whores.” My mouth drops completely open. It’s like a broken hinge that won’t shut. Even though it came out of Justin’s mouth, I can tell he is taken aback with himself. Did he just say what I think he said? Is that bastard really that crazy? Does he know who he’s dealing with?

“Justin.” It’s Trace’s voice. It’s oh so much lovelier to hear than Justin’s right now, but I hold my finger up to him to tell him to be quiet. There are a ton of things I would like to say to him right now. But I’m silent, because I’m too upset to even think. I spent two nights without hardly any sleep for this bastard? This egotistical hoe bag just called ME a whore? I wasted my Virgin Mary for this creep?

“Thank you for your time.” And I’m out of there like lightning. I can’t think of anything to say. I’m not the type to get emotional. But when I do get emotional, it is not going to be in front of the somebody who made me that way. I practically run back to my room. I slam the door and lock every lock I can think of. And that’s when the tears flow when I realize that I just wasted all that time, 24 years and 242 days to be exact. I never thought I would get sentimental about sex. Sex is sex. I’ve always thought in my head that it was just because I didn’t want to get addicted to it and become a whore. But this is really hurting right now. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I was just called a whore, or if it’s because I lost my virginity to some fucker who fucks a different girl every night.

The room is so silent that if I even let out a tiny fart, it would seem like an earthquake. My buzz is officially gone, and my fun for the night has left the building. I’m thinking about just throwing this beer in my hand all over the room. Who does she think she is? Maybe she thought she could come in here throw a tantrum and she could win me back. But she is so wrong.

“Justin,” I almost forgot Trace was in the room. Why the hell didn’t he storm after her and start yelling? Why isn’t he helping her pack her bags. After all, he is the one that brought her here, not me, “What is wrong with you?”

“What? Are you crazy? Trace, I want her out of here. I have half a mind to call the cops and have her arrested.” Trace defies my friendship and rolls his eyes at me. I am not in the mood to play those kind of games.

“I think you should apologize.” He’s standing here staring at me with his arms crossed. Oh for heaven’s sake. Is he kidding? Is this a practical joke? If not, I’m about to blow my top.

“For what?” I need to sit down. I feel like any moment all of the food I’ve ever eaten is going to come tumbling out of me. I plop on the bed, still mad as ever.

“Justin, what has gotten into you? She is just a person. She’s not one of your admirers. She works for you. You are treating her like dirt. That comment was totally uncalled for.” Is this the same person I’ve known since I was a baby? Trace always gets a kick out of this stuff. Hell, he’s usually the one that starts it.

“Trace, am I missing something?” My head is starting to pound, and I wish he would just get on with it and get out. I really just need to go to bed and forget tonight happened. And when I wake up tomorrow, Madison free I will smile and go back to my cheery self.

“You’re missing the fact that she is my FRIEND.” I’m looking at him like he’s crazy right now if you are wondering.

“Are you sure you just don’t have a thing for her or something?” I’m yawning hoping he will get the point and get out of my room, but he just stands there rolling his eyes. Is that all he does tonight?

“I do not have a thing.” He turns to go, thank God. Maybe I’ll just give him a piece of my mind before he leaves. Maybe I’ll make him hate her as much as he hates me right now.

“Well just so you know, she’s pretty good in the sack. She does this thing..” And I don’t finish because Trace has slammed the door on me. Typical. I bet he’s going to go check up on his beloved right now. Maybe they will have a knock down drag out. Maybe he will hate her too before tomorrow and that will ensure her being on the first flight out of here.