The flight out here wasn’t so bad. Sure, my stomach was in knots for the length of the flight. But that feeling has become so familiar to me, that it hardly affected me at all this time around. Justin had sat next to me, his head resting on my shoulder. Sometimes he would talk to me, ramble on about what was going to happen once we reached our destination. But he would tire of that after awhile…then his eyes would close, and he would drift off to sleep. So would I. But then something would jolt me awake; either a sudden jerk of the plane or…a bad memory would invade my dreams. It was a private jet, entirely too small to have some privacy while I slept, so I tried as hard as I could to stay calm when I was suddenly awoken by Shane, Nathan, and their guns. Trace and Elisha had been sitting directly across from us too, and I didn’t want them to get any weird ideas. Like, that I was unstable…that I wasn’t prepared to handle Justin on my own…

I understand why Trace has to leave us after the Hammerstein show…I do. He has a lot of issues that he’s been dealing with for entirely too long, and it’s time that he gets the help he needs. But that doesn’t mean Justin is okay about it, and that worries me. I know he’s scared, I could see it in his eyes before we left for the city. He thinks his best friend is abandoning him when he needs him the most. And I guess he’s partially right. But I know that if Trace were to come out on tour, it would turn into a big mess in no time. Trace needs time to adjust, to work things out with Elisha and his life. He has to deal with the subject of Shane and…how he blames himself for what happened to us. He’s got to learn to cope with it all; or else he’ll wind up like Justin did…stressed out and in a clinic.

That leaves me to handle Justin by myself. Well, not totally by myself. Lynn has agreed to come out on the tour now that Trace isn’t going to be around. But it’s not like Lynn is in tune with everything that’s going on. She doesn’t know Justin’s deepest secrets, and hell, I don’t know if she ever will. So that means that I’m the only one that Justin can talk to about his problems. I don’t know how I feel about that. I mean yeah, of course I want to be there for him and support him. And I will be there for him. But tour life is chaotic, and now…Trace has asked me to take over his role as Justin’s personal assistant while he’s away. I told him he was crazy, initially. But once he talked the job up, and made me feel more confident about it…I couldn’t really say no. He told me that it would be good for me, that it would give me the experience I need to get into business for myself one day. And I guess he’s right. I guess he’s trying to be a good friend right now. Or maybe…he’s still convinced that I blame him for Shane, and he’s trying to do whatever he can to make it up to me.

I don’t feel the same way about it as I did in the beginning--the Shane thing. In the beginning, I was scared of Trace, terrified of what he did. I kept thinking that he’d been irresponsible…that really, he could have prevented the whole damn thing. And as horrible as I felt about it, I couldn’t make myself believe he wouldn’t let the same thing happen again. But after Justin’s slap in the face, I was sort of knocked back into reality a little bit.

I did a lot of thinking that day, sitting up in my bedroom. I remembered everything that Trace had done for me in the past, even before the kidnapping . How he’d always been there for me…been my friend, even when Justin and I weren‘t speaking. I know he could have turned his back on me just as easily, and I’m sure Justin tried to convince him to do it. But, Trace has never been the type to take orders from people when it comes to his life, and his friends. Not even if it’s Justin that’s doing the ordering. He makes his own decisions…does his own thing. And all that time Justin and I were apart, Trace still cared about me, he still worried about me. Even when…Justin and I were put in that horrible place, he still didn’t stop caring. Sure, he was @#%$ up when we came home, let Justin get to his head a little too much, and it pissed me off. But he made up for it. He was there for me at three in the morning when I was crying my eyes out. Nobody else would have put up with that. Not even my own parents, and I knew that blaming Trace, being afraid of him was simply wrong. So I got my act together…put the whole blaming issue out of my mind. When he came home I managed to sit down with him (after he’d scared the @#%$ out of Justin of course) and was able to talk to him like a friend instead of a scared little girl.

Trace and I went out to lunch that day, even though I was sure he felt guilty leaving Elisha alone with Justin. I even went as far to ask Elisha if she was okay with the situation before we left; but she simply smiled at me and told me to go, reassuring me that she would be fine. She said that she needed to have a talk with Justin anyway, one on one. And I was almost positive that she and Trace had discussed the situation, long before he’d even asked me to go to Tony Roma’s with him that day.

“Get whatever you want,” he’d smiled at me once we’d been seated. “I’m treating today.”

Although I’m sure it wasn’t his intention, the words ‘get whatever you want’ caused me to revert my gaze over to the cocktail list that rested by the window. He saw me looking too, because a moment later I heard him sigh, before he tugged at my hand a little, giving it a firm squeeze when I finally looked at him.

“Are you still drinking?”

His eyes had been filled with questions. Questions that I didn’t want to answer. Anyway, I hadn’t been drinking all that much. Sure, that day I’d had lunch with Lynn I’d downed about four drinks in her presence. But since then, I’d only been having a couple of drinks a day…Trace’s newly formed liquor collection being the thing to blame. “No,” I’d said softly, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I know what you did with that bottle of wine,” he’d whispered. “The one in my room.”

I’d gasped, and my eyes went wide at his confession. Up until that point, I didn’t think he’d caught on. I figured that he was under too much mental stress to care about that bottle of wine. But then, I figured that his newly patched relationship with Elisha might have had something to do with him noticing it‘s absence. He’d probably gone looking for it…to celebrate. And I felt like such an idiot for thinking I could get away with what I did. “I knocked it off your dresser,” I’d tried to lie. “I was…looking for something, and I--”

“I’m not mad about it anymore,” he’d interrupted me, a knowing look in his eyes. “I mean, yeah, at first I was really pissed off about it. But Elisha didn’t get that bent out of shape when I told her. It’s really just about us now…like, I think we’re just happy that we’re working things out.” I’d waited for him to smile, but he never did. “So, please don’t sit here and try to lie to me, Kerri,” he’d frowned. “You know, it’s hard enough…everything that’s gone on. The last thing anybody needs right now is another secret. Look, you know you can trust me okay? I mean…” He’d sighed and looked down at the table for a few moments, before meeting my gaze again. “I mean, can’t you?”

Naturally, I was still nervous around him, as it had only been a short while since he’d told me about Shane. I didn’t want to be. I mean, he was Trace and I was Kerri and we were supposed to be closer than that…best friends. But I guess, Shane can make me think things…do things, that normally I wouldn’t dream of doing. It was like I was still so afraid that somehow, Shane would come back and hurt me again…hurt us again. And I guess a part of me was still convinced that Trace had the power to make it happen. But then I realized I was being ridiculous. I needed to learn to put my faith and trust in Trace again . If anything, it would help him too…and he deserved it. He deserved to be better…happy, after all of his sacrifices. “Of course,” I’d whispered. “I’m…I’m sorry okay? It’s just…” I’d trailed off and glanced at the cocktail menu again, my mouth beginning to water slightly at the idea of a Strawberry Margarita, or a Blue Mambo. “Trace…” I knew it then. I really did have a problem. One that I couldn’t help, couldn’t rid myself of. In fact, it wasn’t just a problem anymore. In that moment I realized how addicted I’d become to the alcohol; how desperately I longed for it.

And for the first time, I was terrified of what I was doing to myself.

“Look, Kerri…we both know you have a problem,” he informed me. “And I mean, maybe you should just do like I’m doing, you know? Go to New York, and then come back out here with me and Elish’ for a while. You could go to that shrink everybody’s been telling you to go to, and you can…”

The thought of leaving Justin, immediately changed my mindset. I had no intentions of abandoning him, leaving him to handle all of his stress and anxiety on his own. As far as I was concerned, he still wasn’t stable enough to do it; the slap I’d received from him two days prior having proved this to me. He needed somebody to be there, to comfort him…to tell him that he wasn’t a freak or a f'ag or a monster like he constantly told me he was.

And maybe I was crazy for being so hell bent on protecting him. I mean, he had no problem turning his back on me when I needed him…after we’d slept together and I was so confused . But I guess when it’s come down to Justin, I’ve always been this way. I’ve never been able to really hurt him, to truly hate him despite everything that happened between us. Three years and not a word from him, and for three years I felt like a huge portion of my soul had been ripped out of me. Seeing him again on the plane made me want to pull him into a hug and never let him go, but the bitter part of me had still resented him then. I’d wanted to protect myself…push him away, far away… in case he decided to abandon me again. And I probably would have succeeded too…

But Nathan and Shane changed my plans.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I’d interrupted Trace, sternly. “What the hell would make you think I’d leave him right now?”

He’d narrowed his eyes at me, a worried expression taking the place of his calm one. “He hit you,” he’d reminded me.

I yanked my hand from his. “And it was a mistake,” I’d whispered.

I’m sure he would have said more, but then the waitress came to take our orders. We’d rambled them off quickly, and made certain she was entirely out of earshot before continuing our conversation. I didn’t want to say anything else to him about the subject of course, but Trace…being the persistent person that he is, wouldn’t let it go.

“What happens if you’re out there, on the road…without me, and it happens again?,” he’d asked me, stirring his Coke around with the straw. “What are you gonna do then Kerri? Go to sound checks and meetings with a big bruise on your face? I mean…,” he chuckled sadly and shook his head. “Nobody is gonna believe that it was an accident, okay?”

“Why?,” I’d shrugged. “It’s not like they know what he‘s like, what he‘s going through. They don‘t know…about Cameron, or about…” I’d trailed off, and reached up to touch the faded bruise on my face.

“It’s like you don’t care if it happens again!” he’d exclaimed lightly, leaning in closer to me. “Jesus, Kerri…you think I want to see that happen to you again? You think that it’s okay if he hits you like that?”

“It was a mistake,” I persisted, barely above a whisper. Secretly, I’d been trying to make myself believe my own words. Deep inside of me, where the truth always seemed to lie buried…I knew that Justin was capable of hitting me again; despite how he cried that day in the bathroom…despite his promises to me that he would never do it again. The fact was, he’d done it to Cameron, and now he’d done it to me too. I knew that it was only a matter of time before he lost his composure, and took his aggressions out on me again.

But I didn’t want Trace to know my true feelings. I still wanted to protect Justin, and keep the fact that he was turning into an abuser out of Trace’s mind. I wanted the world to believe Justin could be stronger, better…that he was still the guy they all knew and loved. In my heart, I knew it was wrong to cover for him like I was. But I was so vulnerable and weak…I still am, and Justin was, and still is, the only person that will ever truly be able to understand me, and what happened to me. And I guess, I feel obligated to do right by him because of that. “Everybody deserves another chance,” I’d continued. “You know that…”

He laughed sadly. “Just like I deserve another chance,” he’d whispered. “Right Ker?”

It made me feel like sh'it, hearing that come out of his mouth. I hated that he still blamed himself. And I hated myself for making the idea that it was all his fault stick in his mind. For the first time, I realized that Trace was just as mentally unstable as Justin was. No, he wasn’t hurting himself. He hadn’t been pushed that far yet. But his thoughts were entirely out of sync. He wasn’t thinking right, he hated himself, and it hurt me to know that he’d gone through such a change. He wasn’t that same, confident Trace I’d always known. He was scared, unconfident…unsure of the world and the people around him. I started to think that maybe, if I hadn’t reacted to his news quite so badly in the first place, he wouldn’t be such a mess. It was all my fault…It’s still all my fault.

Just like everything else.

The remainder of our lunch was quiet, composed. Trace started talking about business, and I guess it was the only thing that could have cured him of his insecurities at the time. He told me that somebody was going to have to take over for him once he went back to California, and that he knew Justin wasn’t going to trust just anybody to take on the role of his personal assistant. I suggested that Lynn take over, but he only laughed at me.

“Lynn has enough on her plate, managing his career, without having to worry about his agenda and coffee.” He’d smiled, surprisingly. “Look, it’s easy.” He’d pulled out he manila folder that he’d brought with him, and pulled some papers out of it. It was as if asking me to take over his job for him had been the purpose for our lunch outing. It almost made me angry. I felt like he was using me, taking advantage of me, because he knew how vulnerable I was. But I figured I let Justin have his way with me all the time, so maybe…it was okay to let Trace have a turn. “Everyday you’ll get an email with interview line ups, photo shoots…things like that,” he informed me, sliding a piece of paper across the table. “And all you have to do, is go through it with him, and confirm the ones you know he can make. I know you can do it. I mean, you went to school for communications, and you’re a smart girl Ker.”

He seemed to have so much faith in me, even if he was using me, and it gave me a little more confidence in myself. He was right, I had gone to school for communications. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t have a clue what to do if I accepted his offer, and I figured that taking the job would finally put my three and a half years of schooling to use. Hope had filled my worried mind; the thought that if I did this, and did a good job, perhaps it would make my parents satisfied with me finally. I could help Justin, help Trace…and make things right with my parents. It was a long shot, and I’d known that. But I figured I didn’t have much else to lose…well, besides my sanity. “That’s all I have to do?” I’d said, trying not to sound too eager.

“That’s the basic aspect of it,” he told me. “You might have to do some errands for Justin once in a while. And you might have to organize some things too…help out backstage and sh'it, but I’m sure you expected that anyway,” he chuckled.

I’d nodded.

“I usually do a lot more. But it’s only because I’ve been doing this for so long, that I’ve learned how to do a lot of stuff. But I mean, I’m sure they won’t try and make you do half the sh'it that they make me do,” he smiled. “Lynn would probably kick Johnny up the a'ss if he tried.”

I’d shrugged. I still wasn’t sure about it all, but I was definitely leaning towards giving in. Justin would be happy with my decision, I knew that…and I wanted Justin to be happy. So I’d sort of nodded, and managed to smile for Trace. “Well if…if it’s not that complicated,” I’d sighed. “I mean, I guess I could do it until you come back.”

“Really?” His tone was full of excitement as he grabbed my hand. “You’ll really do this, Ker?”

I’d looked into his soft brown eyes, knowing that if I agreed, I wouldn’t only be putting Justin’s mind at ease…I’d also be putting his mind, Elisha’s mind, and probably Lynn’s mind at ease as well. It was my responsibility, I figured, to try and make everything come together. It was fate…I was fated to do this, to help. That had to be the truth. If anything, the job would bring Justin and I even closer than we already were. And I wanted that. I wanted him to look at me, and love me…and have complete and total faith in me and what I was doing for him. “Of course I’ll do it,” I reassured him with a warm smile.

But really, I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.

“Interview rules.” I clear my throat a little and take a breath. “One. Mister Timberlake will not discuss any aspect of the…,” I hesitate, and cringe a little. “Kidnapping…in any interview…”

“No, wait.” He shakes his head. “I hate that.”

I lower the legal pad, and begin to chew on the end of the pen cap. This is retarded, really. Sitting in a hotel room with Justin for hours upon hours, thinking up interview rules, is not my idea of spending quality time with him in New York City. I figured he’d want to get out of the confines of the hotel room…maybe go shopping or sightseeing like we used to do. But really, the only thing we’ve been doing since we arrived here yesterday, has been sitting in this room, making plans for the VMA preshow. It’s boring, but then again, I know this is what Trace does when he’s “working”, too. And I’ll do it. I’ll do it for Justin, for Trace, for everybody who’s relying on me right now. “What’s wrong?,” I yawn. “I thought it sounded fine.”

“Well I mean,” he sits down on the edge of the bed and rubs his hands together. “Maybe we shouldn’t put the word ‘kidnapping’ in there.”

I look at him like he’s gone crazy. Oh wait, he sort of has I guess. “Well what word should I use?”

His brow furrows, and he presses his index finger to his top lip for a moment, before snapping his fingers in realization. “Wait, wait…,” he smiles. “I got it.”

I lift pen and paper again.

“Mr. Timberlake will not discuss any aspect of his abduction, in any interview.”

He smiles, and that’s crazy to me. We’re talking about…that, and he’s smiling? This is just…he’s acting entirely too weird right now. I think it’s the stress. He knows he has to walk down that red carpet tomorrow night whether he’s comfortable doing it or not. There will be a million flashes, a million screams of his name, and a million microphones and camera’s thrust in his face. I really…I’m so fu'cking worried about how he’s going to handle things. If a reporter gets bold, if they decide to disregard the rules, I don’t know what he’ll do. I mean, what if they say like; ‘so what did they do to you?’. I mean, my god…he’ll flip. He’ll flip, Tiny will have to step in, and we’ll be the laughing stock of the Video Music Awards. I don’t want that to happen. Justin is nominated for five awards and it should be a good night for him, a special night. If he wins, he shouldn’t have to go up and make his speech in front of all those people, knowing that he flipped out on some reporter. “Justin,” I sigh, scratching out the original statement and writing down the one he just concocted. “Is there any way you can skip the red carpet?”

He looks at me oddly. “Why?”

I chuckle a little at his confidence. “Because I mean…”

“You don’t think I can handle it,” he whispers. “Do you?”

I sigh. I don’t want to tell him what I really think. That no, I don’t think he’s going to do well under the pressure…that he’ll crack if somebody gets too personal with him. That if it happens, it will bring his confidence all the way down again, despite all of the anti depressants and emotional stabilizers he’s on. “I think you can handle it, I just…,” I pause, and rise from the chair, leaving the pen and paper behind. I sit down on the bed with him, and take one of his hands in mine. “I’m just worried about you, Justin.”

He half smiles, and kisses my cheek gently. “You know I’ve prepared myself,” he whispers, gazing into my eyes. “It’s one night…one red carpet, and I’ll be fine,” he reassures me with a little nod. “Just as long as people realize they need to keep their distance, nothing should go wrong.”

I tear my gaze from his, but don’t let go of his hand. “But what if they don’t?,” I whisper. “What if they get too pushy and upset you…then…”

“Ker,“ he interrupts, and cups my chin in his hand, lifting my head to meet his gaze again. “You’re more terrified of this than I am,” he laughs softly. “And really, it‘s sweet. I’m glad you’re so concerned, girl. But…you know, I’m ready for this,” he states, confidently. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, and even if one of those as'sholes does get out of line…I’ll just walk away. I mean I can do that, they can’t stop me.”

I shrug. “I’m making it worse,” I whisper, feeling guilty for being so worried when he’s trying to be so confident and carefree about all of this.

“No,” he shakes his head, and pulls me closer to him. “Kerri, you could never make anything worse, all right?” He strokes the top of my head gently, before running his hand down the length of my hair, finally making contact with my spaghetti strapped shoulder. “You’re here with me,” he smiles. “You’re here with me and that in itself is keeping me sane,” he whispers. “I love you for doing this. Nobody else…nobody else would have just, dropped everything and agreed to do half the sh'it you’ve done for me. That’s selfless, Kerri. And I mean yeah, it took me a long time to realize that. It took me a long time to realize how much you’ve done for me all this time, but I realize it now. And you know, when I told you…I loved you…” he trails off, and stares at me. “I…”

It’s taking a lot for him to get this out, and hell, of course I know why. It’s scaring him, like it’s scaring me. When he told me he loved me before we left for the airport that day, I was so overwhelmed with the situation, that I told him I loved him back. I wanted him to be okay, happy…not upset and nervous like he was. I’ve thought about it a lot since then…my actions, what I said and did. And I cant think of any reason why I was wrong to tell him I loved him back. Hell, I do, and I mean…it’s time for everybody involved in this horrible situation to start being honest. I do love Justin. I love him with my whole heart, and…there’s nothing that I can tell myself, or that anybody else can tell me, that’s going to change that. “You meant it,” I finish his sentence for him.

He looks up at me, his eyes a little wider, but he’s not shocked. If anything, he’s surprised that I’ve agreed with him. That I know what he really feels. But I guess, I’m the only one that can really see inside of him like this. See past all the pain, all the sadness and all the misery that lurks inside of his soul. I can break through to the real Justin, the true Justin, despite it all. “I did,” he whispers. “But…I just--I mean, are we in love Kerri?”

It’s weird. I’ve always been terrified of falling in love, and when Justin left me behind after I poured my heart and soul into him, it left me even more terrified of it. But I know it’s true. He loves me and I love him, and it’s not just a friendly, causal thing anymore. So that means we’re in love. There’s no getting around it, and even though it’s weird and rushed and sh'it--I know it’s the truth. “I think so,” I nod. “But I mean…does that mean we’re…”

“Ready?,” he smiles again. “Probably not. But hell, what’s the sense of going around and around in this stupid circle all the time? It just pisses us off, we end up messing around, and then we get confused. I’m tired of being confused, Ker.” He pauses, and caresses my cheek with his palm. “I think,” he continues. “I think the only way to really tell what the hell this is all about, is if, you know…we try.” He looks into my eyes, searching them for reassurance, my true feelings about what he’s just said.

I feel my cheeks turn pink. “You want to be with me,” I say, like it’s some kind of damn miracle that this man could ever want to be with somebody as stupid and psychotic as me.

He brings his hand to my face again, and wipes away the tears on my cheeks. One’s that I hadn’t even realized were there until now. “I want to be with you,” he tells me softly, giving me a tender, sweet kiss on the lips. “Because I’m in love with you.”

“You want to be with me,” I repeat, this time sobbing out the words. I’m shocked that it’s coming together. Shocked that after all of these years, after all of the heartache and pain and separation and tragedy…we’re finally getting our chance. It’s so unbelievable to me in fact, that I can’t help but be a little weary. “Justin, I can’t…”

He laughs lightly, lovingly, and wraps me up in his strong arms. “Kerri, it’s okay.”

“But what if…”

But his lips on mine silence my discouraging speech. We kiss wildly, furiously, our tongues dueling senselessly. Our breathing heavy, rapid. I hear myself say his name, over and over…and then he says mine. And it’s so fu'cking beautiful that I start to cry all over again. But it doesn’t seem to make him nervous, and it doesn’t’ make him stop kissing me. If anything, it makes our passion that much more intense. He cradles me in his arms as I cry, taking care to kiss the tears off of my cheeks, all the while whispering my name in my ear.

“Shh.” He smiles at me softly, as he gently pushes my body down into the comforts of the mattress and pillows. He settles himself on top of me, and kisses my neck, just once…soft, loving, and slow. “Kerri,” he whispers after a moment. “There’s nobody like you.” He kisses me once more, full and long on the lips, before turning out the light. And for the first time in forever…I’m not scared of the dark. A little stream of light seeps in from the window, just enough so I can make out his face---his beautiful face.

I’m in love.

And the rest of it…is all a blur.
****************
10 AM

“You’re acting…weird.” Trace throws me a couple of pairs of jeans, and a few shirts, before turning back to the rack of clothes. “It’s like, man, you’re not even nervous about tonight and sh'it.”

Normally I would be, but I have entirely too many other things on my mind right now to care about the reporters and what kinds of questions they’re going to ask me. I have Kerri on the brain, and that in itself is an amazing fu'cking accomplishment. Yeah, I have Kerri on the brain. I have her on the brain because I’m in love with her, because she’s such a great, awesome girl, and I finally have the chance to treat her accordingly.

And oh yeah, I guess I have her on the brain because…we had sex last night.

“I’m good man,” I reassure him with a half smile, before cracking open my journal. “I mean, I don’t really want to think about how nervous this is making me. I just need to relax for now, you know?” I laugh a little as I take the pen to the paper, and start to write. I’m thankful I decided to bring the journal along to dress rehearsal. It makes the time pass while we wait for my name to be called, and I know that writing in here is the only thing I can do to rid myself of the fears and worries that constantly plague my mind. Sure, I know I can talk to Trace…but I don’t know. I’m terrified of telling him about what happened last night. I don’t know how he’ll react if I tell him. He might flip out, yell at me, and tell me that I’m not being responsible…

He might throw me into a wall again.

I must be out of my mind. I know what happened to me. I know all too damn well, but yet…as our clothes came off, as our bodies came in contact with one another. And as…as it went inside of her, I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t’ have any fear in side of me. Something was telling me that it was okay to be with her…love her. But only her and nobody else…ever. And it’s a fu'cking miracle…but Shane, he didn’t try to stop us. He didn’t show up…I didn’t even hear his voice. Not once. And it sort of convinced me I guess…it convinced me that I’m getting over this . Slowly but surely, every day he’s becoming less and less of a burden. I’m not sure if it’s a temporary thing or not, and yeah, I guess that scares me. I know that given the right moment, the right situation…he could very well decide to come back. I’d lose it all over again, especially if I was in the middle of things with Kerri. But…

But that’s the chance I’m going to have to take if I want to prove to myself that I’m not gay. That I’m not a freak, and that I’m not obsessed with Shane. Sometimes I find myself thinking about him still, when I’m all alone. I think what it would have been like if we’d ended up together like he told me. Would it really have been that bad of a thing? I mean…he was in love with me right? So like, he wouldn’t have hurt me anymore. I mean, he would have treated me with love…and care… The sex would have been…uncomfortable. But I mean, at least he would have loved me. I wouldn’t have been alone…

I shudder, and stop writing. I think I’m going to puke. I close my journal, and hunch over, tucking my journal underneath me as I do so. I groan a little…my stomach hurts now, and I think I probably need a bathroom. I know I’m going to be sick…I’m positive now. “Mmmm,” I whimper. “Sh'it.”

Trace gasps, and drops the clothes in his hands as he whirls around. A look of intense shock spreads across his face once he sets eyes on me, and he immediately rushes over and crouches down beside me. “Justin.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Jesus Christ man, you‘re shaking.”

I didn’t even realize, but that’s probably because I’m numb from head to toe. It’s effecting me, the sex. I didn’t even think about it…what having sex with Kerri, or anybody else could do to me right now. I mean, God, maybe I wasn’t fu'cking ready. But I sure as hell thought I was. And Kerri, Christ, she was just there, and she loved me…and she was so damn beautiful. I needed her, I needed to show her that it was okay. That I loved her, and that she could love me too, without feeling bad or uncomfortable about it.

Once upon a time, things would have worked out great too; if none of this had ever happened, if I was still normal, comfortable with myself. If that was reality, I would have woken up this morning with her wrapped in my arms and simply smiled. I mean, I did smile at her this morning, but I don’t know…I felt weird. I think I hid my feelings well though. Kerri had no idea how nervous I really was. She just smiled, told me she loved me. She had this look in her eyes too, like she’d just been reborn Like I’d saved her from something so horrible, so terrible…like I’d saved her life again. And I wasn’t about to ruin the moment. Not again…not like I did the first time we had sex. So I…I played along, somehow. And she bought it…

But now I’m paying the fu'cking price.

“Come on. Come on Justin, get up.” Trace helps me to my feet, and maintains a firm grip on my upper arm as we make our way into the bathroom. “Sit down,” he whispers, nodding at the toilet.

But I can’t, because now…I’m vomiting into it.

“Man…” It’s the only word he says that I can clearly understand. I’m vomiting harshly, violently into the toilet bowl. I can’t stop. I think everything I’ve eaten in the past week is coming up and out of me right now. It’s gross, and it’s scaring the crap out of me too. Last night, I didn’t think anything like this would end up happening. I had sex with Kerri. I made love to Kerri, and I was confident in that love. So if I’m in love with her, and I was comfortable touching her, having sex with her, then what the fu'ck is wrong with me? Why am I getting sick?

“Because you’re a f'ag.” I see Shane’s face in the toilet bowl, and it causes me to puke all over it. He vanishes from sight soon after that…but I can still hear the ba'stard laughing. Fu'ck…he’s laughing at me. He’s laughing at me because he knows what I really am. He knows I can’t hide it anymore…

“Oh God, Justin,” Trace whimpers, once my vomiting ceases. He helps me to stand up straight, and he turns me around. “Damn, what’s the matter? What did you eat?”

I take the wad of toilet paper he hands me, wiping the vomit off of my mouth and face. I look down at myself. Damn it. There’s puke on my favorite t-shirt. I should have known better I guess, dressing in my best clothes on an emotional day like today. “I dunno,” I say after a moment. “I’m fine.”

“Bullsh'it,” he grunts, and fills a little paper cup with water for me. “You need to tell me what you ate yesterday, so I can figure this sh'it out. You can’t go on stage if you have food poisoning.”

It’s like I was drinking a lot last night, and now I have a really bad hangover. I’m kicking myself, because I shouldn’t have been so damn irresponsible the night before an important performance. But I mean, the truth is…I wasn’t drunk. I was with Kerri…we were making plans for the show tonight, and then…one thing led to another… “I shouldn’t have…” I hear myself say the words out loud, and I look at Trace. He’s confused, obviously, and I don’t now how the hell I’m going to work my way around this one.

But lying, I realize, is pointless now. Too much has happened…he’s told me too much…revealed all of secrets to me. And it’s taught me something. Taught me that secrets are evil, and only end up hurting the ones you love in the end. I realize I’m going to have to tell him…what happened, even though Kerri probably wouldn't want me to. But I mean, this is Trace, and Trace is different. He has a right to know I guess--because he's a part of this too.

“Shouldn’t have what?”

I swallow the water in two gulps, and hand the cup back to him. He refills it quickly, and hands it back to me. I’m silent as I drink it down. And I’m silent when I throw the cup into the wastebasket too. I really…God, he’s going to kill me. He’s going to throw me into the wall and shake the life out of me. He’ll scream at me, tell him how much of an as'shole I am. He’ll tell me I used Kerri, even though I’m pretty sure I didn’t…

“Shouldn’t have what, Justin?,” he persists. “Come on man, spill it.”

I sniffle and cough a little bit, before meeting his gaze again. “I shouldn’t have slept with Kerri last night.” There, I said it. It’s done and over with, and I feel slightly better, but only slightly.

“Huh?” He seems bewildered, and I’m sure that’s the last thing he expected to come out of my mouth right now. “Justin, what the hell are you talking about?” He crosses his arms across his chest, and sends me an annoyed glare. “Don’t fu'ck around, okay?”

He doesn’t think I’m capable of making love to a woman right now. And I mean, I know he has every reason to think that way. Hell, up until last night…I didn’t think I was capable of doing it either. But I mean, I did it. And for awhile, like right after, and first thing this morning…I felt something that I haven’t’ felt in a really long time. I felt…I felt like myself. But the feeling left me once Kerri and I managed to get out of bed.

I guess it all started when I looked at myself in the mirror. I thought I was going to see a totally fresh, renewed version of myself. But all I really saw, was the broken down shell of the guy I’ve been for a while now. It discouraged me I guess. Made me feel like even though I was in love, and had done something so special, so intimate with Kerri…it didn’t even matter. Shane had done permanent damage to me, and I was never going to change.

Then I had to go out there…out into the world, and I knew it was going to be hard; but I never imagined it was going to be as hard as it actually was. I hadn’t been outside of the hotel room since I’d checked into it the previous day, partially because I wanted to get some work out of the way, but mostly because I was terrified. I didn’t’ tell Kerri that of course, and I managed to keep us busy going over my schedule for the coming days…until we got tired of that and…did things.

Tiny and Eric met us outside my hotel room door, and took Kerri and I downstairs. It was fine. It was early, seven o’clock, so there weren’t many people milling around the lobby. Eric and Tiny had sandwiched us in between them, and led us out of the hotel to my waiting van. And it was only then that I remembered why I’d been so terrified of going out on the street in the first place.

“Oh my god!” The girl had screamed in my face, and I’d nearly picked up the back of Tiny’s jacket and hid underneath it. But then…Kerri had grabbed my hand and I’d been able to calm down and focus on the site before me. I saw girls…maybe a dozen of them, standing around the stairs leading up to my hotel. Really, I should have expected it. Fans follow me wherever I go, and they always seem to know where to find me no matter where I go or where I stay.

“Justin!” Another one had screamed.

One snapped a picture in my face.

I wanted to run away and hide and never come out again. I kept thinking they could see it…see it on me. How dirty and disgusting the rape had made me. I was convinced their smiles were fake. That they were putting on a front, waiting for me to crack so they could get me when I was most vulnerable; just like Shane had done to me.

“Justin’s got a schedule to keep, girls,” Eric had spoken up, as he gripped me by my upper arm and guided me forward.

I’d glanced at the girls again, immediately noticing the expressions of disappointment on their faces. And I realized that, in their eyes, I was coming off like a real as'shole. I never mean to ignore my fans. In the past, I’ve always made and effort to stop and say hello, as long as the crowd hasn’t been too crazy. And…it wasn’t too crazy then. I knew they’d probably been waiting for me for hours, in the cold…just to get a glimpse. I started to feel horrible, as my security rushed us toward the van.

“Justin,” Kerri had whispered. “You’re okay right?”

Then I’d stopped, and turned to face her, despite the fact that Eric was getting impatient with me. “They’re going to hate me,” I’d whimpered, as the door to the van had slid open.

Kerri had glanced at the girls quickly. “They’ll understand.”

So I hadn’t stopped. I’d let Eric pull me away. I got into van and yeah, I felt like complete sh'it for doing it. But I just, I don’t think I could have stopped and talked and let them touch me just then. I wasn’t used to it, I’d been through enough and I figured…they would have to understand. They would have to understand what I’d gone through, what…what happened when people touched me. I mean yeah, Kerri can touch me all she wants to. But Kerri is a lot different than some random fan…I know she’s not going to pull a gun out, or try to…do things to me that I don’t want her to do…

“Answer me!” Trace snaps me out of my thoughts and I look up at him, terrified that I’ve set him off. “Justin…” He takes a few steps toward me and I swallow hard. “What do you mean, you slept with Kerri last night?”

But I don’t answer him.

“I know you guys fall asleep in the same bed all the time. And yeah, I guess I know y’all kiss sometimes too,” he chuckles nervously. “That’s not a surprise to me. I mean, that’s all that happened right? You didn’t…do…” he shakes his head roughly. “This is crazy. You could have possibly put yourself through that.”

I blink. “I wanted to have sex with Kerri,” I inform him, as I walk out of the bathroom and back into the dressing room. He follows of course, but he doesn’t say anything; so I continue my speech. “I did, Trace. It’s not like before with Shane, when I didn’t want to do it.” And I have to laugh at myself. I mean really, after all this time…I’m not even sure that I didn’t want to do it. I’m lying again. I’m a fu'cking liar. “I mean I think…”

He sends me a disgusted look and throws a clean shirt at me. “Justin! What the hell were you thinking?”

I knew this was coming.

“You’re moving too fast, and you know damn well that Madison told you you’re not supposed to do that.” He crosses his arms across his chest, and frowns. “You’re still dealing with a lot of sh'it Justin. Why’d you do it? She tell you she wanted it? Or were you trying to prove something to her?”

I look at the floor. He has a right to be annoyed with me, because he knows how badly the rape effected me. He wasn’t expecting me to go and make a crazy sexual decision like I did. I’m supposed to be smarter than this, I realize. But I mean, I love Kerri. I know I do. It’s just…now I wonder if Trace is right. Have I decided to be with her because I really want to make this work? Or am I simply doing it to cover something up…like being gay? I mean, if I have a girlfriend nobody will suspect anything. It’ll be like ‘oh there’s Justin the trouser snake at it again’. And even though I’m nothing like what they’ve made me out to be…it’ll still feel good to know that they don’t think I’ve turned into a big gay freak. It worries me though. I mean, I’m in love with her, but if things are like I think they are…if I really am gay, what am I supposed to do when the truth comes out? It’ll kill her if I have to break things off with her…because she’s in this deeper than I’ll probably ever be able to comprehend. Maybe Trace is right. Maybe I am moving too fast…

But it’s too late for me to go and change my mind now.

“Justin.”

I quickly change my tee shirt, and sigh when I toss the puke stained one into the garbage. Then I look at him. “I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say, and I know I probably sound like a weak piece of sh'it to him; but God, I don’t know what the hell else to say. What is there to say? Fu'ck, why am I even sorry? I shouldn’t’ be sorry. Loving Kerri, being in love with anybody is a good thing for me, a positive thing for me right now. Why can’t Trace just butt out and be satisfied that I’m not a raging psychopath anymore? I mean, he’s leaving anyway… “You know, I’m not sorry,” I speak up. “I’m really not, Trace. I love her.”

But he only laughs at me and shakes his head. “You don’t have a clue what love is, Justin.”

I almost tell him off, but then Tara, the event coordinator sticks her head in the doorway. “We’re ready for you, Justin,” she says in a rush, before disappearing from my view.

And I realize there’s no more time for this. No more time to fight with him, to wonder where the hell my heart lies. This is reality now; my career and the people that support me and work hard to maintain it. I have to make the fake version of myself come alive right now, to please them…to please everybody. My life, and my problems will have to come second. But really, that's nothing new.

“Damn, can you even sing?” Trace asks me, tossing me my sneakers. “Because I can tell them you’re sick.”

I shrug as I bend down to slip the Nike’s on. “I’ll be okay.”

“You realize I’m talking to Kerri about all of this as soon as she gets back from the store, right?"

I snap to attention at his words. “What?,” I scoff. “Wait…Trace, you can’t just tell her that I…I told you. I don’t know if---”

“I don’t really care what you don’t know,” he snaps. “This is fu'cking with your mental health Justin. I mean, Jesus, you just puked all over the place. And Kerri should have known better, okay?”

“Trace…”

But he doesn’t want to hear it. “Come on, do a quick run through of this sh'it…no vocals, and then we’ll take you back to the hotel…call a doctor to make sure you can go onstage tonight.”

And I follow like the coward that I am, like a faithful little dog; because really, I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. Trace has all the answers at the moment, and I know he’s going to take care of me. Take care of me…somebody always has to take care of me. God damn, I can’t even be in love with a girl without somebody lecturing me, shaking their head, and wanting to baby sit me. Sometimes I feel like I should put on a diaper, suck my thumb, and stop caring…let my life be lived for me through everybody else, because that’s easy. I won’t have to think, just sit back and let everything go.

But if I let that happen, Shane will have won, despite the fact that he’s dead and buried. And I can’t have that. It’ll push me to the brink, drive me crazy again. So I have to try, keep pressing on. If loving Kerri is the solution to ridding myself of my homosexual desires, then I’ll do it. I’ll do anything I have to. And it’s not like the whole thing will work against Kerri either. She’ll get to be with me, she’ll get to love me, like she’s always wanted to. And I’ll love her, we’ll be happy…we’ll forget about everything. Yes, we can forget about Shane and Nathan and their demands and the beatings. It’s easy. It’s all going to be so easy. I’m laughing…I’m laughing because its so easy.

But as I make my way out to the main floor, I realize that I’m not really laughing at all. I’m crying. Quietly, softly, all the way up to the stage. Trace doesn’t’ see it, because he’s on his phone, and Tiny is too busy looking at our surrounding area for any predatory reptiles that might want to hurt me. You’re losing it, I hear a voice in the back of my mind whisper. Suck it up, or they’ll think you’re crazy. And I take a breath. My smile and charm flies on as I do so, and I know I can get on that stage now.

I see Marty jog on to the stage, and he waves. “Sup man! You ready?"

I smile enthusiastically. “You know me, man. Another day another dollar.”

“Bullsh'it artist,” I hear Trace grumble, but I pay him no mind. I can’t right now. I can’t let anything bring me down…

Grin, jog, get on the stage, Grin, nod, shake Marty‘s hand.. Routine. I can do this.

The music begins to blast through the music hall, and I quickly fall into the choreography without a twinge of hesitation. It’s like clockwork, I could do this sh'it in my sleep, and it builds me up a little, comforts me, gives me confidence. You can do this, Justin. I smile.

F'ag.

I swallow hard and force him out of my mind. No, I wont let him do this to me right now.

Never, ever forget baby. It’s you and me…you and me baby.

God…no, I wont listen. Maybe I can still do this, if I try really hard. If I focus completely and totally…

You like to suck di'ck don‘t you?…It tastes good…

I nearly miss a step in the choreography, but I manage to catch myself in time. Who the hell am I kidding? I can’t do this. I can’t just…forget this--what happened to me. I’ll never be able to. And this makes me totally unworthy of Kerri’s love; but yet I’m too ashamed to tell her my true feelings. I need to keep her close to me, let her love me…because if I don’t…I won’t be able to think about anything else but him. And then he’ll have that power over me again. That power to control me, to push me over the edge until I no longer have the power to fight back and defend myself against him.

And I know there’s only one solution to that problem…

A solution that I really, really don’t want to have to start resorting to again.

A Change Of Pace