"There you go," I grunt as I hoist my niece from the ornately carved horse and deposit her back on the ground. Man these kids of Lisa's are getting too big. Abby may have to become my favourite on grounds of still being a toddler and thus easy to pick up.

"Bye Lily Rose," Becca says seriously as she pats the horse. I don't have the heart to tell her that her story book isn't real and Lily Rose will not be coming alive tonight.

I take my niece's hand and together we stroll along the pier, away from the carousel she's just ridden. I point out a few stalls, hook a duck and the like, but she's not interested in paying out to win cheap plastic prizes. She's a smart kid, this one. She's also pretty quiet, which is why Lisa asks me to take her out every so often. She has this theory that the twins kind of overshadow her and that's why she's so quiet, and that being taken out solo will open her up. I have a theory that her theory is crap and Lisa's just got herself a daughter who takes after her sister rather than herself. Becca reminds me a lot of me, and I turned out okay.

Still, I like these solo visits because I love my niece and she is a great excuse for me to do kids' stuff. Who else am I going to take to a Disney movie, Trace?

For a moment we linger by the railings. Becca peers intently down at the waves beneath us, and when I ask her what she's doing she says she's looking for mermaids. She's a little girl with a big imagination. It wouldn't surprise me if she winds up writing books one day, she reads just as much as I used to (and still do) but she's also very creative. I was more of a practical person, even at that age. I'm working behind the scenes of movies, helping to make them happen, but Becca would be the one coming up with the big idea and finding the words to put it into a script - you know, if she was full grown and not eight years old. I may be getting a little ahead of her here.

I stand behind her for a while, arms locked around her shoulders, just watching with her. I'm a little less convinced than she is that we'll see one of Ariel's pals, but I guess that's the difference between innocence and age. With one thing and another I've been feeling a lot of disappointment lately… well, more than just lately if I'm honest. For a very long time now. A lot of it is my fault, I have to admit that, but still it weighs heavy on you after a while. In a lot of ways I envy my young niece - reality hasn't forced her to give up looking for mermaids yet. Here's hoping it never does.

Eventually I figure that's enough staring down at the water and I tug her away, leading her back along the boardwalk. "So what do you want to do next baby?" I ask as I hold her hand and she trots willingly alongside me.

"Can we go somewhere else?" She looks up at me with impossibly big blue eyes as she asks. "I've been on all the kids' rides already and the rest are too big and scary."

This is another way in which my niece reminds me of me - even at this age, she has this set thought pattern of weighing risk and deciding what she should and shouldn't do. Obviously it's a lot more immature and less full of emotional issues than mine, but it kind of makes me sad in a way. It's times like this I understand Lisa's worry - this kid needs to be a little more carefree while she still can. She's eight, not eighty. That said, I have to agree on her assessment of this pier - she's been on every ride here except the ones she's too small for height wise, and even I'm starting to get sick of cotton candy (also known as sugar in its purest form).

"Sure. So where does Miss Becca want to go?" I ask her as I swing our joined hands.

"Ice cream?" She looks hopeful but I cannot believe she wants to consume more sugar. Is she trying to make me ill? Even I'm feeling kind of sick right now from all the crap we ate on our way around, and I got a pretty darn sweet tooth.

"Hmm, maybe…" I'm distracted by the ringing of my phone, and I have to fumble in my pocket left handed in order to grab it. "Hello?"

"Hey, chica."

"Hey Soph, what's up?" I ask. I see Becca's eyes go wide - she adores Sophie because of this kids' fairytale thing she did called The Last Unicorn. It's cheesy as hell and really old, but she loves it and me working for Sophie is the best thing ever in her eyes. That's why I'm the cool aunt.

"Not much, I was just wondering if you were free to hang this afternoon."

"Sorry, I've got a date with my niece. We were just at the pier and we're trying to work out where to go now."

"Hmmm… do you think she could be convinced to go to the movies? I really want to see the new Pixar but I have no kids to take and so no excuse. I usually have to wait until it comes out on DVD and order from Amazon, save my reputation."

I can't help it, I bust out laughing. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly." Even as she says it, I can tell she's smothering giggles too. "I am officially inviting you two to the movies."

"Hey Becca," I ask my niece, "Sophie wants to know if we want to go see a movie with her."

The dark haired child looks up at me as though I just announced that Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are all going to be coming once every week from now on. Her eyes are like saucers and her little pink lips have fallen open in surprise. Her free hand is fisting itself nervously in her sweater, which I have learnt means 'I want to but I'm scared to ask' in Becca Body Language. She nods tentatively, like she thinks I'm going to laugh in her face and tell her it was all a tease - which funnily enough sounds like something her brothers would do.

"I think that's a yes from her Sophie so where are we meeting you?"

***

"She's so cute," Sophie mouths at me as we stand outside the bathroom stalls, waiting for Becca to be done.

"I know," I whisper back with a smile. My niece might be shy, but in the process she's the most charming little thing ever - not so much like me, there. She's so quiet and polite and unassuming that everybody always adores her. The twins, her brothers, are so big and loud that they can be seriously annoying (but then they are boys and every girl knows that boys are just trouble).

"So what are we doing now?" She asks in a more normal tone.

"I have to drop Becca home and then I said I'd go drop those papers into the office."

Sophie's production company, which has now been officially named Light Source (Lumos, light, get it?), has a small set of brand spanking new offices, not far from the Paramount lot. It's all very much a fledgling operation and the vast majority of what we're doing right now is the paperwork to get everything up and running and staff hired. Still, I've got involved because by total luck Sophie's manager came across a script that hasn't been optioned yet, a chick lit book adaptation named The Chocolate Lovers' Club. It's a sure concept for the next big girl movie and by all accounts the script is really funny, but Sophie's probably going to have trouble getting the rights because there are some far bigger players in the industry after it too. None of us are getting our hopes up, but we're going to try.

As a result of all this my new job hasn't involved me doing a heck of a lot just yet. Until we're up and running and have some projects in the works, I don't have much to do. The resulting free time has been both wonderful and yet kind of dull. I'm not used to having so much time off, and I'm finding it hard to relax. I keep feeling like I should be up and doing something. It's weird, I spent all that time as a PA wishing I had more free time and now I have it I can't cope with it. Typical, huh?

To be fair I'd probably have more to do if I wasn't avoiding Trace and Rachael, but I'm never stepping foot in that house again. Not after that whole elevator thing. I'm not ignoring them, we still talk on the phone; I'm just weaselling out of all suggested get together scenarios.

There's a flush of the toilet and a click of the lock, and Becca shuffles out.

"All done sweetie?" I ask. She nods and moves obediently over to the sink where I help her soap and wash her hands - they're a little tall for her. I also grab the hand towels which are out of her reach and dry her hands off.

"Motherhood suits you," Sophie teasingly whispers in my ear only to get a mock glare from me. If only she'd seen me the last time I had Abby and she got sick while under my care, she wouldn't be saying that. I was a mess, panicking it was meningitis or something and watching obsessively for a rash when actually she just had a cold and a little fever.

"So what now?" Sophie wisely changes the subject.

"It's about time I got this one home," I answer.

"Aww…" Becca complains, tugging at my sweater, and I feel a brief moment of smugness. Okay, I'm sure a lot of this has to do with the wonderful Sophie Lumos (or Giselle of Shornwood as Becca first knew her), but I'm taking all the credit. It's nice to know I'm popular with somebody.

"Sorry sweetie, we'll go out again soon." I lean down and kiss the top of her head as we stroll out into the foyer.

"Oh mierda…" Sophie breathes out in a low moan as she sees the wall of paparazzi crowding the glass entrance. At least they weren't allowed in - and at least Sophie had the sense to swear in Spanish and not English. I think Becca probably understands English swear words.

"Where did they come from?" I ask in horror. It's like this solid wall of them, and I don't understand how they knew we were here. We come to this Cineplex all the time, and we never have any trouble - they're smart here, they know that if they don't tip the goons off we'll keep coming back. Not every shop owner or manager or whoever we've come across is that smart.

"I swear to God there wasn't a single person on me when we got here!" She's clutching at her hair and biting her lip. She knows as well as I do that when there are that many waiting, you're going to get swarmed. This isn't even just a handful, it's a horde.

"They're not here for you," a voice says wearily behind us. Sophie and I both turn on our heels, me gripping my niece a little too tight.

"They followed you?" Sophie asks Trace.

"Yep. I don't think they even realised you were here, they just got a serious bonus," he says grimly. Justin is nowhere to be seen but you can bet your ass that the vultures outside aren't here for Trace.

"God. How am I going to get her out of here without getting trampled?" I hiss as quietly as I can, I don't want Becca worrying.

"This your niece?" Trace asks. I nod and he crouches down and offers his hand solemnly for her to shake. "Hey, I'm Trace; I'm a friend of your Aunt's."

"I'm Becca," she shakes his hand timidly.

"That's a pretty name," he says, ruffling her hair before standing back up and looking at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I tell him. His very presence here makes me feel guilty that it's been so long since I've seen him, but he's been staying at Justin's rather than at his own place and… oh.

You think of the devil and he appears before you. He's wearing a very pissed off expression - this one has never been somebody who deals well with the paparazzi. The problem is it's written all over his face how uncomfortable he is and they use it - they know to pick on the ones who show that weakness and let the chilled demeanour drop. Sophie can front better than he can. The pissed off expression becomes a mightily awkward one when he spots me and Sophie, but then softens on seeing Becca. I breathe a sigh of relief and thank the Lord that I had her here as a buffer - I couldn't take another one of his sarcastic attempts at small talk, I'm still sore from the last one.

I cried all the way down the stairs, to my car and then on the drive home. In hindsight I think it was the realisation of how futile all my messages and trying to reach out to him had been. Once again I find myself loving a man with little regard for me, though it's more my fault this time than with Will who was just an ass in disguise.

"Hey," he gives us both the nod.

"Hey," Sophie says wryly. "You brought some friends, huh?"

I see Justin eyeballing Becca, and I think she's the only thing holding his tongue and the cussing. "You could say that. We thought if we left before the showing finished we'd catch them while they'd all gone for coffee or something."

"Movie was lame anyway," Trace jokes. The joke was lame too. "So what did the manager say?"

"It's a no go," Justin shakes his head. "They're at the fire exits too. They got the whole building covered the…umm, morons."

I glance nervously out at the horde, trying not to turn my face towards them too much. I can see them all gathering at the doors now. At this point I'm struggling not to cuss myself. This is going to frighten the life out of Becca. Hell, it still frightens the life out of me.

"Well, I guess there's nothing to do but run for it," Trace says grimly before turning to Sophie. "You want to follow me, Soph, I can maybe block you a little?"

"Thanks," she says gratefully. "But what about Chels and Becca?"

"Trace can go first, you gals go in the middle and I'll bring up the rear, hopefully we can make a break for it."

Great, I get Justin breathing down my neck. That's going to be comfortable. I'm not sure precisely when this turned into a 'we're all in this together' scenario, but I'm not personally sure it's the wisest idea. These guys already must think they hit the jackpot, what's it going to look like if we all leave together? I'm also worried that the double shot will make them close in all the closer - I have an eight year old in tow. Lisa is going to murder me when she finds out about this.

But apparently the choice has been made, and so I just brace myself and clench my niece's hand as hard as possible. I hear her say 'oww' and relax my grip, but not very much.

As Trace pushes the door open and the yelling starts, I flinch. My muscles go taut and I brace myself for the worst. I put Becca behind me, using my body as a battering ram to clear her way through. She's now grabbed the back loop of my belt as well as my hand, and even in her less than powerful grip I can sense the fear coming from her touch. I can't believe I was stupid enough to subject her to this, I should have known that hooking up with Sophie risked this (even if technically it was Justin who brought these guys here). The paparazzi aren't as restrained as Justin or Trace, and I hear lots of swearing and lewd comments. They're asking if Justin's slept with Sophie, if he's slept with me or if there's been a threesome going on. They're being absolutely disgusting, and in front of an eight year old. There's pushing and jostling coming from all sides, and I really wish we had guards. Trace has barely managed to move us five feet forward.

Suddenly there's this weird break, and Trace manages to barge through with his hand in Sophie's. It's like the parting of the Red Sea, only Moses already brought his staff back down because they've closed ranks again before I can make use of the path they cleared. I'm not as strong as Trace and I'm not getting us anywhere. I can hear little sobs coming from behind me, and I want to cry myself because I can tell without seeing how terrified she is. Justin's become a little less mindful of her too, yelling at them to get out the fuck out of the way.

It's when I suddenly don't feel hands on my jeans or in mine that my blood really runs cold, and the little cry I hear from behind me. I turn around but I can't even see Justin or Becca, some assholes have pushed their way in between.

"Becca?" I cry frantically. "Becca? Get out of my WAY!" I yell and try to push them aside, but I can't get to her.

Then the asshole who just leered at me and ignored me stumbles back into me, clearly caught off balance. I just about save myself from falling on my ass, he doesn't manage the same. Barging through with his shoulders like a football player, Justin becomes visible and with the biggest sense of relief I ever felt in my life I see he has Becca in his arms. She's sobbing hysterically, but she's not on the floor being trampled which is all I care about right now.

Grabbing my arm with his free hand, Justin yanks me away and continues to shove his way through like an angry bull. "Which way is your car?" He asks me.

"Left," I tell him.

Finally, wonderfully, miraculously we manage to get through the worst of it. We finally have the room to move faster. I'm struggling to keep up with Justin's long legs, but we're managing to put a little distance between us. The paparazzi have split into two smaller mobs, all torn between whether to go after Sophie or Justin (Sophie arrived separately to me so she's at the other end of the lot - I have no idea where Justin's car is).

In a daze I fish my keys from my pocket and point my remote at the car, unlocking it. At high speed Justin wrenches open the passenger door and sits Becca in her seat - she seems scared to let go, and I don't blame her. Quickly he belts her in with a 'there you go' and a ruffle of her hair. I hear a very whiny and high pitched thank you come out through her tears - that's my girl. Scared shitless and still remembers her manners. This is so unfair, she did not deserve this. I bet she's not coming out with me again any time soon, even if Lisa doesn't have me hung from the rafters for this.

"Get gone as fast as you can, they won't follow you."

For a moment I feel a broad hand on my back and I catch his gaze, the sad but brief smile he gives me before he starts jogging away, drawing the photographer's attention with him. He's right; the second he started walking away all the cameras started pointing the other way.

Briefly dazed, I shake my head and then practically run for the driver's side door, barely remembering to put my seatbelt on before peeling out of there as fast as I can. I only wish I could run down a few paparazzi while I'm at it.

"Are you okay baby?" I finally remember to ask Becca as we hit the intersection and stop at the light. I turn to wipe some tears from her cheeks with my thumb.

"Who were those men?" She asks with a hiccup. "Why did they want to hurt us?"

"They didn't want to hurt you, baby, they just wanted pictures of Justin and Sophie and they're very rude when they try to get them. Did you hurt yourself? What happened?"

"A man p-p-pushed me," she sniffles a little harder in the telling of it, "and I fell over but your friend picked me up. It hurt my hand."

She holds it out for my inspection. It's hard trying to pull away and look properly, but I manage it. There's no cuts and she's not screaming as I flex her hand, so I'm guessing it was only a light swipe on the ground, not even enough to draw blood.

"We'll go get that ice cream you wanted," I sigh, "will that help?"

She nods tearfully and then goes quiet. Yet again I curse myself for this. I'm cursing myself for letting my niece get into this mess, for not thinking that this might happen BEFORE it did, for not holding onto her tighter… and for the way my heart was banging double time against my rib cage when he touched me. My niece was in hysterics and I was thinking about a guy? I'm a waste of skin.

This whole thing was one big nightmare, start to finish. The last few months have been one big nightmare, start to finish. How did my life end up being this?