“Breathe like that again. I dare you.” said Trace irritably, glaring at the pouting celebrity through the rearview. Justin had yelled the whole way to LAX, vented for four hours on the plane, and was now lpouting in the back seat as Will drove the three through Little Haiti on the north side of  Miami.

            Justin met Trace’s eyes in the mirror and gave another petulant huff. Trace’s eye twitched. Justin was in the wrong and he knew it, yet he continued to behave like some spoiled brat. Twisting around in the front seat, Trace punched Justin in the leg initiating a fist fight between the two. Will rolled his eyes and ignored the two, following the GPS directions until they reached their destination three streets down.

            Pulling over and putting the Navigator in park, Will sighed, climbed out and went around to open the passenger side door, yanking Trace back into his seat.

            ‘CHILDREN! That’s enough. We’re here.’

            Trace and Justin paused to look over at Will then each other. Though Trace was sporting a new split lip to match the bruise on his jaw, Justin didn’t have a scratch on him.

            Trace broke the silence first.

            ‘Justin, I have been your best friend my whole life. I’ve had your back through everything, but so help me, if you say one word out of line in there …’

            Trace let his sentence trail off, shaking his head.

            Justin scoffed, ‘Why do you always make me out to be the bad guy?!?! Okay, last time, I got a bit angry, okay? I admit it. But she deserved it. Why does no one remember what happened? She was homeless, Trace. Sleeping in Central fuckin Park, playing her little violin for a living and I took her in. I gave her everything and what’s more, I let her in into my life. Do you know how hard that is for me?  If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly like everyone else, Trace. I’m a world famous musician. Everyone wants a piece of me, nobody wants Justin for Justin. So for me to trust her was big, fuckin HUGE. But what does she do? Stab me in the back and throw my kindness back in my face. Leave with no warning whatsoever, like a…like a thief. Who the hell does that? Then she has the nerve to send me my stupid money back, like I was just a loan shark to her. She was in the wrong, not me. So do I feel bad? No, not at all. All I want is a simple explanation, then she can go her way and I mine. That’s all, so stop acting like I’m the bad guy in all this.’

            Trace gave an exasperated sigh.

            ‘Justin, how many times do I have to tell you that if you knew what was going on back then, you’d know that she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She just had to go live her life.’

            Justin felt an old, familiar wave of jealousy pass over him.

‘Well, since you and her were always sooo fuckin close. Why don’t you tell me?! And don’t gimme that ‘it’s her right to tell you’ bullshit, I’ve heard it for years now. Be a man and tell me.’

Trace closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes, he hated Justin. He hated his arrogance and his bitchiness and most of all his ‘Woe is me, I’m the victim’ attitude. Most of the time, he knew Justin better than he knew himself, but when it came to Grace, he couldn’t fathom how one man could be so stupid.

‘Oh trust me, I’m being the bigger man right now. Look, in less than five minutes, we’re going to ask an enormous favor of someone who would love nothing more than to see you fall flat on your face. I’m not going to argue about who’s right and who’s wrong, but I need you to understand that she has every right to say no. If she does, we’re going to thank her for her time and never bother her again, but if she says yes, and I don’t think she will, YOU are going to suck it up, be a professional, then, after to tour is finished, say goodbye. Do I make myself crystal clear?’

Justin looked incredibly pissed, but just nodded.

‘Great, now lets go. Will, keep the car running just in case.’

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

            Trace, his fist hovering in front of the door, turned to give Justin one last meaningful glare that read ‘Don’t mess this up!’ Justin huffed and nodded. Trace rapped three times on the flimsy wooden door on the third floor of the old complex before stepping back.

            From inside the apartment, they heard, “Solo un momento. Olvido sus llaves otra vez, Sra - ’ before the door swung open revealing a smiling Grace in a plain gray uniform holding a set of keys. Shock settled over her features, followed quickly by anger as she tried to close the door in their faces.

            Trace shoved his foot in between the door and the wall.

 ‘Wait! Please – AAAAAHHH!’

‘Trace, move your foot from the door.’

‘No, please just listen to –‘

            He paused mid-sentence as Grace threw the door open and, with her entire body shaking with fury and eyes ablaze, barreled past him up to a surprised Justin. Trace then heard a CRACK reverberated up and down the hallway and looked up to see Justin frozen with his head twisted to the right at an awkward angle as a red handprint slowly began to emerge on his cheekbone. Grace stood rigidly in front of his, her breath coming out in infuriated pants.

            ‘How.. DARE you come here after what you said to me, you piece of shit! I don’t know what possessed you to think it was okay to ever come NEAR me again, but let me make myself clear. I never want to see your face again. Got it? Good.’

            And with that Grace turned around and slammed the door in both their faces, then slid the bolt shut for emphasis.

            Trace turned to Justin who had yet to move. After a long stretch of silence with Trace wondering if he should call Will, Justin hurled his phone again her door with a scream of frustration and abruptly turned to run back down the stairs and out of the building.

            Once he reached the car, Justin slung the driver side door open and said a low voice.

            ‘Get the fuck out of the car.’

            Will looked at him like he was possessed and then began to laugh at the hand print stamped across his face.

            ‘You must’ve really fucked up, dude. She smacked the shit out of you!’

            ‘Unless you want your wife to know what happened with that stripper in Atlanta, I suggest you get the FUCK OUT OF MY CAR!!!’

            Will immediately stopped laughing, ‘That’s cold, man.’ he said as he squeezed out of the drivers sear.

            Justin threw himself in the SUV, slammed the door closed, then sped off into the night, leaving Trace and Will in his wake.