Katie's POV

I feel so dirty and used. I thought I was a person, not some sort of toy, certainly not a sex toy… Maybe I was wrong, I was crazy, stupid even to think that anything would change. I was used and despised at home, why would it be any different here? I guess the only upside is that I was found attractive enough to have sex with, even though I didn't want it. Or did I?

James POV

What the fuck is wrong with me! How could I do something so disgusting and revolting, to my best friend even? Who am I kidding, no way she is my best friend now, I ruined everything. I'm such a fucking freak. I don't deserve to live, people like me make me sick.

It was mere hours since the crime and James had just woken up with a hangover of a lifetime. He was sick to his stomach and the room wouldn't stop spinning; the lights seemed to be brighter and hotter than the sun too. He never felt like this before and once he gathered that he was in the hospital he thought he was dying. He definitely felt like it. There was no one around and when he tried to lift his arms, he saw he was tied down or something, he couldn't really tell, he couldn't see straight or open his eyes for that matter.

He was left alone for what felt like days but instead was a few hours, he had been treated for severe alcohol poisoning and was going to be fine. James wanted something to dull the pain but there is no cure for hangovers, instead he had to ride it out. He spent 5 long hours in silence as he suffered through the pain, he tried to stay as still as possible and eventually his hangover lessened. Now that he was more alert he was able to gather that something was a miss. He was handcuffed to the bed for one, why? He didn't know, he wasn't sure why he was in the hospital in the first place. His memory was still rather fuzzy and he couldn't remember much of anything. A nurse and doctor came in to check on him again, he didn't remember them coming in before but he was in so much pain and so dazed he couldn't focus on anything. They were followed by a police officer which made James more confused. The looks on everyone's faces weren't looks of concern; more like just business. The medical staff checked readings and responses and ignored James' questions before leaving.

"Hey!" James yelled after them. He wanted answers and he wasn't getting any. He fought against the handcuffs that kept him tethered to the bed until a clear mark was visible. He sat back in bed, frustrated before trying to locate his phone. It was no where to be seen, none of his stuff was. He was in only his boxers and a hospital gown.

He spent at least a day in the hospital, alone. Only medical staff and police officers were in his room and no one would give him the time of day. He just wanted to know what was going on, what the hell happened? Two officers came into his room full force, catching him off guard before unlocking the handcuffs. Orderlies were right behind them as they helped James out of bed and into a wheelchair. James was scared now and he just stayed quiet.

"James Diamond, you are under arrest for the sexual battery of Katie Pryszwice" one of the officers began, placing James' hands behind his back.

"WHAT!" he yelled, eyes wide in disbelief that he was being accused of such a crime,

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you. Do you under stand theses rights as I have read them too you?" the officer continued placing the cuffs on.

"No I don't, what is going on? I didn't rape anybody, especially not my best friend! What is this, some kind of joke? Let me go!"

"Don't struggle or I will have to use force."

"Where's Katie? This has got to be a misunderstanding! I haven't- I wouldn't rape her! Katie!" he yelled fighting against the officers. They held their ground and forced him down. James was in full panic mode and was difficult to control, the officers had no choice but to taze him. He let out a yelp and began to convulse as he fell out of the chair and to the floor. He was unhurt but temporarily paralyzed, the officers made quick work bringing him to their car and left to the police station.

He was put in a room and left unattended for about an hour, he paced the room in a sweat trying to put together what was happening. Last thing he remembered was coming back from a run and now he's being accused of raping his best friend and co-star! What the hell was going on? He was so deep in thought, when the door opened he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Someone's a little high strung. That's a guilty sign right there." the interrogator said nonchalantly

"You would be high strung too if you woke up in a hospital feeling like shit and confused as fuck and then taken to the police station after being told you raped your best friend! No one wants to give me any answers! Don't I deserve knowing what the hell is going on?" James argued, slamming the table in front of the calm interrogator. He sat in silence, looking into James eyes, not batting an eyelid before James got frustrated and grunted, leaving the table. He stared out the window for a little bit before coming back.

"Please. Please tell me." he pleaded. The interrogator was a specially trained staff member and he could tell James was utterly clueless, the amount of alcohol in his system had succeeded in wiping much of his memory from the past 2 days. He couldn't remember anything at all. The interrogator got up and opened the door, grabbing a file off the shelf just outside; he tossed it on the table and it slid to James' end. James stared at the folder, occasionally glancing at the interrogator but he said nothing. He made his way back to the table and looked at the folder; the tab had his name on it followed by some letters, probably a code for something.

He hesitantly opened it up and saw his picture and a file sheet with all his information that had just been filled out. The folder was pretty empty, it only had 3 sheets of paper. James didn't have a record of any kind so he didn't expect much but he was still confused. Before he could ask any questions the door opened and an officer handed another folder to the interrogator. He again tossed it to James' end silently.

This folder was blank but it seemed to have a bit of paper in it. He opened it up to see several sheets of paper with all kinds of scientific names and numbers. He couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"What is this?"

"It's also part of your file, everything in there is about you and should answer many of your questions."

"But I don't understand these terms…"

"All those sheets are results from different tests our forensic lab performed in regards to this case. The one you are holding is a toxicology report. It lists all the chemicals found in your body 2 days ago. It seems as though you had quite a bit of fun, you drank a little too much."

"Me? I only ever drink beer and never more than 2!"

"Not according to that list. You were taken to the hospital after you were found with irregular breathing. Come to find out, you had alcohol poisoning, you could have died, if you weren't found when you were."

"Who found me?"

"Hmm, let's see…" he said taking out a small notebook from his pocket "Kendall Knight and Logan Mitchell. You were found in Katie Pryszwice's bed room."

"That doesn't mean I raped her!" James said defending himself.

"Flip to the back of the folder." he instructed. James raised an eyebrow and did what he was told. A bundle of pictures were banded together upside down. He picked them up, unbinding them, before flipping them over to reveal pictures of him laying unconscious on a floor. He had a red mark on his face that in later pictures began to turn light shades of purple. He raised a hand to his face and felt the heat radiating from the area. He never looked himself in a mirror and had no idea, he felt no pain. Pictures showed him in only his boxers, 2 of which clearly showed his man hood. He had woken up before, exposed, it happened with boxers sometimes. He did see that the room he was in was Katie's room and as the pictures surveyed the room, he could see his scattered clothes, bloodied sheets, his cut up belt and an overall mess.

He was beginning to get impatient with these photos, he wasn't seeing anything that accused him of anything more than getting drunk and naked then sleeping it off. He was still confused about that, how could his beer get him that drunk? He tossed the pictures down o the table before going through all of them.

"None of this is making any sense to me at all. It doesn't add up. I don't remember anything."

"There is no hiding the fact that you are a rapist! I'm done playing the nice guy and I will put you behind bars faster than you can say that you confess."

"I didn't rape her!" James argued back. The officer grabbed the bundle of pictures and fanned them out in his hand real quick before finding the ones he wanted. "Then tell me what happened in this photo!" He said slamming it down.

James looked a the picture for only 2 seconds before he nearly fell out of his chair in shock. There was no denying what he saw. Katie, his best friend, lying in a hospital bed, bruised, battered, bloody and worse for wear. Her eyes speaking volumes. He began to cry at the sight of the picture and the officer kept showing him more, each one more severe as they showed each cut, mark and bruise. He couldn't believe it and he didn't want to believe it. He refused to believe it as he cried and yelled, pounding the table.

"No!"

"Yes! It was you, you raped her!" the officer said"No! I couldn't-" He defended

"You did and you didn't stop. You felt overwhelmed at overpowering her and just took control." the officer continued.

"It can't be…" James trailed off

"It is and I have the papers to prove it." he said as he flipped the folder back over and grabbed another sheet. "This is the result of the rape kit, ran on Katie. It found fresh vaginal damage from you're force, you're DNA matched the seminal fluid and pubic hairs found inside her. You did rape her, you did abuse her, and now you're going to rot in jail like the other sickos." He said loudly at first, then dying down to nearly a whisper in his ear.

"No…" James chocked through tears. "No!" He yelled as he hit the table with his fists. He got up while yelling no louder and louder he circled the room before entering into a panic and then a breakdown. He slouched into a corner and began to repeatedly smack his head back against the concrete wall. In an effort to stop him, several officers assisted in dragging him out of the room and getting him emergency treatment for his profusely bleeding cranium. He fought the officers every step of the way before receiving a dose of muscle relaxant and within seconds he was dead weight. He was tied down to the hospital bed where he woke a few hours later dazed and confused, but quickly started yelling and screaming again as the memories he had hoped weren't real, came rushing back. He hoped it was all a dream but it felt to real. He screamed for Katie but she never came, he watched the door, screaming as he was put into an induced sleep.

James was a danger to himself and would need psychological therapy before being able to be returned to the police for processing, he was no longer fit to stand trial.

Katie was in no better condition. Her superficial wounds were healing nicely despite needing 10 stitches and a large dose of pain medication, but her emotional and mental wounds would take time. She barely spoke since arriving to the hospital, staff would not allow male visitors to see rape victims. Katie was all alone in LA, she had no family or friends outside of work. Her cast mates Jo and Camille were only acquaintances and the Jennifers hated everyone. The guys were practically all she had.

She was alone and afraid, mostly female nurses attended to the rape victims as well as female doctors. Occasionally, male personnel had to check in, she would be tense as they worked but she wouldn't struggle. She was afraid but didn't want to be beaten again. Her eyes were dull and almost lifeless and were a cold stone blue instead of the bright, shiny, and happy blue they always were. She slept a lot in the hospital and after a couple days she was transferred to a psychiatric ward in hopes she would open up.

She refused to talk to anyone or even look at them. She felt alone and disgusted with herself. Anytime someone touched her she flinched and stiffened before closing her eyes. Her reactions were typical of rape victims and with any luck she might be cured of it. After a few days in the hospital she was released to a mental health and abuse victim facility. There she was under strict watch but left alone and given time to adjust. She spent much of her time in the shower or in her room.

She felt dirty and no matter how hard she scrubbed or how hot the water was, she just couldn't get clean. She didn't want to leave her room because she didn't want people to see how 'dirty' she was. Her skin had begun to blister in places because of the hot water and in other places it was red and raw, often times bleeding. After a few weeks she eventually gave up and just cowered in a corner of her room as she cried. She would never be the same, she wanted to be loved but not violated. She felt so alone, no one visited her and no one called, she didn't know that the guys weren't allowed to contact her or see her. At the time when she needed someone the most, she didn't have anyone, not even Carlos, and she was devastated by the fact.

She figured that no one ever really cared about her in the first place, but she wasn't overly surprised by her assumption; she was never the first choice on anyone's list. She never had a boyfriend and she was almost 22 years old. She had decided a long time ago to save herself for marriage or at least the right guy but that dream was now long gone. She didn't trust too many people after being bullied for so many years and her decision was based on fear; she didn't want to get close to someone, only to be tricked into giving herself up.

But one thing kept making its way to the front of her mind. She never had a boyfriend, mostly because no one found her attractive. She was an average girl, dark blonde, blue eyes, fair skin, somewhat tom-boyish but still had a girly 'air' about her. She wasn't stick thin but she was still able to run, jump and climb like anyone else. She lived in a superficial place and if you didn't have certain fashion trends or worse, weren't part of a certain group, you were an outcast. Needless to say she was an outcast, she did have some friends but she was still the social outcast. The thing is, James may have raped her, but in order to do that, he would have had to of found her attractive in order to continue his rampage. As sad and disgusting as that was, it gave her some hope. Maybe she was desirable after all. Or at least she was, no one would want the broken and battered self she was now.