Bruised

by Daphne Block

Seth Cohen reunites with a long lost family friend who is in deep trouble. As he helps her find her way out, he learns her story of love.

Bruised

"Married? How the hell can you say that you're getting married to him?" Seth screeched.

Stella tried averting her blue eyes from Seth's dark broody brown ones. "Well, I realized last night that I'm ready to make that step in my life. I mean, we've been dating for three years now. It would all seem like a waste we didn't get married."

Seth shook his head, and paused from his frantic pacing around the apartment. His eyes held all of his emotions, and right now, his eyes were as dark as they can be, and they squinted as if trying to search for the meaning of why there is suffering in the world. He turned to her from the sliding glass doors that led to the small balcony that gave way to a spectacular view of California's one and only Laguna beach.

She sat on the couch, patiently, waiting for his response. She fidgeted with the third button on her green polo shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning. Then she stared back to her faded denim jeans. She felt as if she was breathing for two. Maybe it's because she is possibly be breathing for two. She drew in another sharp breath at the thought.

Seth finally took in a deep breath as well and joined her on the couch. There was such a comparison between the two because of their attire. She in her bright vibrant colors and he in his black woolen coat, brown sweater layered over a white collared shirt and brown slacks.

"Look at me, please." He whispered. When she didn't comply, he took her chin and pulled her face towards his so he can look into her empty brown eyes.

She shuddered when he touched her, but then she felt that his touch was warm, not cold from the condensation of a beer bottle, and his breath was like mint, not alcohol. Her body, which was for a second tense, now relaxed.

He continued when he saw he had her attention. "There are other reasons for marrying someone. Believe me I should know, I had a two hour marriage because we were both being stupid." He took another breath. "I just don't understand why you would marry him when he does this to you."

She tried to be oblivious, but knew perfectly well what he was talking about. And he knew just what he was talking about.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She tried, but her voice gave way and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Obviously upset, he took the back of her shirt and pulled it up without removing it completely so that only her back was exposed. He saw large blue and purple bruises and even a few cuts.

She went hysterical, shrieking and then pulled her shirt down. "Stop!" She jumped off the couch and ran to the opposing wall and nearly smashed a vase in the process. After ten seconds, she was still pressed against the wall and Seth was still sitting on the couch, looking at her sympathetically.

"What do you want from me?" She sobbed. Her eyes were now red and she couldn't control her sniffling. "How did you know?"

He got up and walked cautiously over to her. "I saw him. You guys were in the corner at a club and he was just reprimanding you. I didn't tell anyone, because I didn't want to do something you should yourself." He offered a tissue to her and she accepted.

After watching her blow her nose and letting her settle down he inquired, "Why don't we just tell someone?"

Her head snapped to look at him and her face was horrorstruck. "We can't!" She stuttered and started crying even more. "He told me… He said…"

Seth was afraid of what she was going to say. He saw this in all of the movies and shows where someone was being abused by a boyfriend or husband. However, he kept quiet and waited for her to finish. Although, he knew exactly what she was going to say.

Ten seconds later, she finally spit everything out. "He said he'd kill me if I told anyone. So you can't tell anyone, and you can't confront him! He'll only get upset…"

He just stared her down, one of his best techniques and she was used to it. Ever since they were seventeen, he used his stare to try to get things out of her, her secrets, lies, and the truth.

"Shit. What time is it?" Stella answered her own question by looking down at her watch. She quickly pushed Seth aside and grabbed her handbag from the couch.

He stopped at the door, grabbed her arm, and turned her to face him. "What? What is your rush? You just got here fifteen minutes ago! I thought you wanted to talk."

Stella just shook her head and replied, "I have to get home, Clutch is expecting me to make dinner."

Seth's eyebrows furrowed and she tensed when he didn't let go.

"Please Seth, I need to go." She pleaded.

He let out a sigh and released her from his grip. As he watched her leave and hurry down the well-lighted hallway of the luxury apartments, he murmured, "Be careful."

The California sun was setting over the crystal blue ocean, reflecting against the sandy beaches and turning it into gold. The sun not only reflected against the beach, but also the million dollar mansions that rest on top of hills. The mansions radiated that exclusive Hollywood look, when in reality revered doctors and lawyers who also happen to accumulate a large amount of salary live there. Ordinary people, not celebrities, just ordinary people inhabit the fabulous mansions. People who have their own problems, but decide to live in ignorance of them, for fear that their problems will act as a catalyst to the downfall of their lives. However this ignorance can not be maneuvered around and avoided, and not only cause the downfall of their lives, but the destruction of themselves.

Stella James walked through her front door with two armfuls of groceries and managed to close the door with her foot and lock it with her knee. She hurried to the capacious kitchen and settled the bags down on the island kitchen countertop and was quickly unloading them of their contents and hastily putting them in their proper places.

She took out a fairly large pot, filled a quarter of it with water from the tap, set it on the stove, and started boiling it. From her peripheral vision, she saw the red light flashing from the black cordless phone, which was hanging on the wall, and she pressed play to hear the messages.

While she heard the monotone voice from the machine she was dropping the dry pasta into the boiling water. "You have one new message." Beep.

"Hey babe, just calling to let you know I'll be home a little later today. Like, let's say at around tonight at nine? Just calling to let you know so you won't have to hold up dinner for me." "End of first message."

Stella frowned and looked from the phone to the boiling pot of water with the newly added spaghetti straws. She continued cooking anyway.

It wasn't until midnight when Clutch came stumbling noisily through the door. He looked around the foyer, into the living room and kitchen, which were all visible from where he was standing. And as far as he can see, the house was spotless and smelled of fresh potpourri.

His denim jeans were faded from being washed over thirty times and his ACDC shirt was soaked with Carrona. His chestnut brown bangs were hastily pushed to the side to reveal his weary brown eyes. He slipped out of his grungy old converses and started climbing up the clean white carpeted staircase.

The master bedroom consisted of a king sized bed with a blue comforter, a neat walk-in closet, a cherry oak dresser, a door that led to the spacious clean bathroom, and another set of French white doors which led to the balcony. It was here in the room, where he found Stella sound asleep on the bed. As he approached the bed, he noted that she was under the covers and probably fell asleep while reading a book. He leaned over and saw that she was reading, Behind a Mask.

In her sleep, Stella dreamt of Seth. She saw him cross the street with his spirited dog, Penny. Stella, of course, was watching from afar. Probably from one of those outdoor cafés which were sprinkled around Los Angeles. The dog spotted her and started barking uncontrollably. Adam spotted her, smiled, and waved. Then suddenly, she felt a strong force jerk her back from her abdomen. She screamed, but no one heard her. When she felt her body free, she started running. She didn't know where, everything was so different around her. The buildings were crumbling, the sky was falling, the ocean was threatening to conquer the land, and worst of all, the sun was burning out. The world was ending, and she had the worst feeling in the pit of her stomach. Nevertheless she kept running. Suddenly, she stopped when she saw Adam. His warm, comforting smile greeted her as he held out his hand for her to take. She smiled, but as soon as she took his hand in hers, his hand turned frigid and clammy, not the usual warm. She looked up again and didn't see Adam, instead, she saw Clutch. He had an evil grin on his face as he pulled her closer.

"Stella!"

Clutch, in reality, was shouting at her now. She woke up with a start, and sat up. When she saw Clutch glaring at her, she wanted to just crawl back into the dream and pray that Seth was still waiting for her.

Instead, she was lethargic and walked over to the dresser to fetch a black hair tie to pull back her straight brown hair. "What happened? What time is it?"

Clutch took off his fifty-dollar sunglasses and violently threw them at the wall towards the door. His cold blue eyes gave her fearful brown ones an icy glare. "Where the hell is my dinner? I come home after a hard days work and I don't even see dinner at the table!"

Stella backed into a corner, letting her eyes scrutinize the floor. "You said you were coming home late. I had the dinner out, but by ten o'clock, it was getting cold so I just left it in the microwave. I'm sorry, Clutch, it will never happen again, I promise."

He advanced towards her, and he shouted, "Well I won't let this happen again."

Seth sat in his brown lounge chair in his living room and sighed heavily. He sat there for ten seconds just listening to the refrigerator hum in the kitchen and the traffic from the window, which was a quarter way opened. The soft padding noise Penny, his brown Labrador, made with her paws only meant that she was up from her nap.

Seth switched on the plasma screen TV, but became instantly bored when he saw Laguna Beach was on. So he turned that off.

"What do you say Pen? Wanna just stay in here for the night? Play a few video games, sing a few tunes… Whatever you want girl." Seth said to Lab, who was peeking her head around his lounge chair so Seth could scratch her head. Penny looked up at him with her big dark eyes, filled with boredom, yawned and laid down on the floor for another nap.

Seth grinned, "That's a good idea too." So he too, laid back and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

Stella groaned as she attempted to get off the cold kitchen floor. She sat up and managed to grab the phone from the island counter while leaning on it.

Her back felt like it was broken in five places, and she was barely able to reach her arms above her head. She took in the panoramic view of her kitchen. She saw a plate smashed into pieces, spaghetti was splattered on the floor everywhere, and even on the walls, and worst of all, there was a dab of blood on the living room carpet that was visible from the kitchen. But anyone could mistake it for the tomato sauce that matched the walls.

"Seth? It's Stella, can you come over and help me clean something up?"

Noting the desperation in her voice he answered quickly, "Of course, I'll be there in five."

"He might as well have been here in four," Stella thought, only moments after she pulled herself up from the floor. She soon found her feet dragging themselves to the door to answer the doorbell.

Before she answered the door, her hand instinctively went to her stomach. Her heartbeat quickened when she felt nothing, no life, and no hope. A lone tear made its way down to her chin and remained there until she opened the door.

Seth wanted to cry at the sight of her. But all he could bluntly say was, "Your forehead is bleeding."

Stella nodded with her face full of pain and anxiety. "She's falling apart," Seth noted, and looked at the scene behind her, the kitchen, and the living room, "And she doesn't deserve this."

He offered his hand to her and said aloud, "You need to come with me, you're not safe here. You need to go to the hospital, that cut looks really bad."

Stella stared at the hand outstretched to her, if he had been any closer, it would seem like he was reaching towards her stomach. Did he know? Then she would see the pure confusion in his eyes, signifying no knowledge or understanding of anything. So she nodded slowly, since she had a splitting headache.

The rest was a blur to Stella, and the next thing she knew she was lying on a hospital bed. She inhaled the sterilized atmosphere of the hospital room and the same old memories she replayed in her mind at least twice daily ran its course in her mind.

She sobbed quietly whispering, "I wish Andrew was here."

"Don't worry about me kiddo, you'll do just fine without me." Andrew spoke with courage that did not match his raspy faint voice.

Stella had sat beside him on his hospital bed for the past four hours, trying to figure out how she was going to live without him. He was like a brother to her, always there protecting her and giving her playful shoves. But for the past month, he has spent all of his time at the hospital, "rejuvenating" his strength that had failed to reappear.

Damn, the chemotherapy, damn all of those doctors and nurses, damn myself for not making him soup when he really needed his liquids. Stella tried to find a reason why he was stuck here, fighting for his life, while Clutch was at a bar drinking his way through his best friend's slow and painful death. And she was only going to pay for it later.

"Andrew, I'm so scared, I've been almost parasitic to you for the past two months… I've depended on you for everything, who am I going to turn to? What should I do?" Stella was bawling now, as if she was the one who was terminally ill. Luckily, he didn't find her egotistical, just concerned about her wellbeing, which is what he wanted from her.

Despite the melancholy mood of his friend, he still held a strong smile, "Don't worry my shining star, you'll shine your way out of anything. Hell, tomorrow, when I'm gone, you'll meet someone new, someone to take my place—"

At this she interrupted him, "NO! Don't say that, not tomorrow, you'll live! For me you will, and no one is ever going to take your place. You have the biggest shoes in the world to fill."

Andrew just shook his head, like an old wise grandfather, telling his grandchild how foolish she had been, "Never mind that, but you will find someone." While Stella shed tears, hanging on to every word he said, he paused, caught his breath and continued, "Now this is an order Stella, get a job."

Stella's eyes grew wide, "But Clutch just made me quit my job. He said he doesn't want me to work. I can't do it."

Andrew's eyebrows furrowed at the name of his so-called-friend. "GOD STELLA! Don't you dare let that guy tell you what to do and not do, no matter how hard it is! You are going to take photographs again! You went to UCLA for a reason you know."

Then all of a sudden, she heard the heart monitor making slower beeping sounds. Her eyes widened, but when her eyes met Andrew' s he looked even more alive, and he managed to say his last words, "Don't worry kiddo, everything will work out, just don't give up on life. Just live the life you're given with the storms outside."

She gasped when she heard the familiar line from his song that he wrote. She just had no clue it was written for her.

Then it all happened so fast. The heart monitor stopped beating and began screeching, his eyes were blank and peaceful, and tranquility settled around that hospital room for just that one moment.

This time, Stella was alone, in her hospital room, crying. "Where the hell is Adam?" She thought. He wouldn't leave me would he? Left to fend for myself. No, he wouldn't. I trust him.

"That is one hell of a fall down the stairs. Her condition is extremely critical, both physically and mentally. She is just not altogether stable." The doctor explained to Seth in his office.

Seth sat in the chair looking at the golden nameplate on the desk that read, "Dr. Cohen". He stared at it and then asked, "What do you mean mentally? She's not crazy or anything, I've known her for about over a year. She showed no signs of mental instability."

The doctor pursed his lips, "So she didn't tell you?"

Seth gave him a look that said, "Do I need to even answer that question? NO."

The doctor got up from his chair behind the desk, "She was two months pregnant, and from the fall, she lost her baby."

Seth screeched, "WHAT?"

The doctor had a stern look on his face, "Son…"

Seth glared at him, "Look dad, I don't need to hear anything from you, because I'm not the father, okay? She already has a boyfriend, well, now fiancé."

Dr. Cohen nodded in understanding, "Seth, I think you need to watch out for her. She seems like she's in a lot of trouble."

Seth looked at his father again and replied bitterly, "I know that dad, I'm not a complete moron."

Dr. Cohen just chuckled to himself, "Look at you Seth, you're acting just like when you were a teenager again, always butting heads with me."

Seth was about to get up and leave when all of a sudden his father said, "It doesn't have to be like this you know. I'm not even asking for you to be nice to me, just a civilized conversation."

Seth instantly felt guilty and stayed in his seat.

His father smiled inside, happy to have his son not snap at him for once. So he continued, "You know, we are family, and if you know that that girl is in trouble, you just tell me, I'm only a call away. You're always welcome to take advantage of my services."

Seth smiled and replied, "Thanks dad. Sorry about before, it's just… Really hard right now."

His father nodded and went back to his paperwork while his son made his way out of the room.

Back in her room Stella stopped crying, convincing herself that shedding unwanted tears was not a plausible solution for her problem. Instead, she sat up straight and began listening to a conversation right outside her closed door between what sounded like a doctor and a family member of someone in the hospital.

"She'll definitely make it, but she'll need to stay here for at least another day or two. But I want you to be on the lookout for her, the news may cause some emotional setbacks." The doctor was saying.

The family member responded with a sigh, "Okay, but, Dad? Can you make sure that paparazzi stays away from her? Because that is the last thing she needs right now."

At the statement, Stella grew very confused, Paparazzi? Is Britney Spears in the next room?

Her question was answered when Seth walked briskly into room carrying a "Get Well" Teddy Bear, with a broad smile on his face, "You're up!"

Stella pretended not to be excited at the sight of the bear and replied in a monotone voice, "Well if it isn't Captain Obvious."

"And you are a horrible liar." He laughed, "I know you're just dying to grab this bear that is oh so cute that it's almost nauseating."

Now, it was her turn to let out a laugh, "Yeah, give it to me!" She took the bear out of his hand and almost squeezed it to death by her hug.

All of a sudden, he noticed that her face was a little splotchy, like she had just been crying. He asked, "Are you alright? Were you crying?"

She shook her head, "No, the hospital just isn't good for my complexion. That's all." She forced a smile. "Thanks anyway, Andrew."

Lapsus linguae, a slip of the tongue, and that was all it took to send her on the verge of tears again.

Seth, realizing her mistake and how much it hurt her, he sat next to her on the side of her bed. "Stella? Look at me, look at me." He pulled her chin towards his face. At this angle, he could see just how bad her bruise was on her left cheek. He continued, "It's okay. But, if you don't mind me asking, who's Andrew?"

Stella bit her lip and stared at the bear. "Yeah, I don't mind telling you. I haven't talked about him in a while, and… It only makes me miss him more…"

" She says I'm much too thin

She asks me if I'm sick

What's a girl to do with friends like me?"

-Jack's Mannequin "Holiday From Real"

At the studio, at twenty-two years old, Stella was preparing her camera for a photo shoot. She was happy, contented, and thrilled with her first assignment. Alternative Press employed her as a photographer for the cover of the magazine. She looked stunning on the job, her wavy brown hair was cascading past her shoulders and the fact that she wore no make up made the term "naturally beautiful" define her.

John, the make up artist, rushed by her desk, almost colliding into an intern who looked flustered with paperwork, and pretty much screamed, "Something Corporate is here! They've been waiting for five minutes!"

Stella, blushing, power walked into the studio and was met by four smiling faces.

"Hi, I'm Stella and I'll be your photographer today!" She said.

One of the band members with unruly blonde hair and glasses extended his hand for her to shake and said, "Hey, I'm Andrew." His already brilliant smile was starting to fade as he said, "And I'm sorry if this is a trouble to you, but Clutch here," he pointed to a guy with sunglasses who was frowning, "Says that I'm always in the front and I'm hogging up the spotlight."

Stella just laughed, "It's no problem at all. These kind of things always come up."

After taking a long look at each of the five band members, she smiled, "Okay, we can start!"

It's been several days since the photo shoot with the band and Stella was scrutinizing the two hundred pictures she took at her desk. There was a whole lot of commotion around her, but that's how it always was at the studios.

After looking through half of the photos her eyes began to feel weary and she just shut them to let them rest. However, that rest wasn't very long because the phone on her desk rang. She answered on the second ring.

"Hello, Stella James for Alternative Press speaking." She smiled at the formality in her voice.

"Hello, I would like to know if you were interested in a lower phone bill by switching to the Mary Kate and Ashley telephone service." The familiar voice said.

Stella scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. Since when did Mary Kate and Ashley come out with a phone service? She thought. "No thanks." she said aloud and hung up the phone before the man could ask her any more questions.

The phone rung once again and she picked it up, "Hello, Stella James for Alternative Press."

She was greeted with a playful chuckle, "Sorry I couldn't resist myself, you just seemed really gullible, you know?"

Stella did know, everyone she met said she was naïve and can't let that small town charm dominate her. She replied to him, "Well, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" She tried to sound rude, but again, her small town charm evaded.

The voice on the other line stopped laughing and said, "I'm so sorry, my name is Andrew. I'm from that band Something Corporate. You shot photos of us a few days ago."

Stella smiled, "Yes, I remember."

Oh yes, she remembered Andrew quite well. During the shoot, while the rest of the band was sulking around, giving her the attitude that they didn't want to be there, Andrew tried to liven things up by cracking jokes, some of them corny, but his attempt was what made them all the funnier. By the end of the shoot, his charisma had Stella and the rest of the band (excluding Clutch) smiling and laughing. How could you forget a character like Andrew?

"Great! So, I was wondering if we could grab some lunch or something. There's this café close to your job, maybe we can meet there and like, discuss the photos for the cover." Andrew sounded calm and relaxed, yet anxious and hopeful.

Stella smiled, "I would really like that." She looked over at the two hundred photos piled on her desk. "But we sure have our work cut out for us."

Andrew was right, the café was only a couple of blocks from the studio that she could easily walk there. The café was situated near the beach right on the boardwalk. Inside, it was comfortably warm and the walls were painted a pale blue, with posters that were promoting shows for bands playing in a nearby lounge. Andrew was sitting at a small table writing something down on a napkin.

Once they greeted each other with a handshake, they both sat down and ordered sandwiches and had pleasant conversations about their work and background. After eating, Stella got down to business.

"Jeez!" Andrew exclaimed once Stella took out all two hundred photos and placed them on the table.

"Yep, and I've been looking through all of them all morning. I've cut it down to fifty…" She separated the fifty and put the rest back in her green messenger bag.

Andrew studied one picture for about ten minutes until saying, "You got Clutch to smile in this one. That's freaking amazing. What'd you do?"

Stella blushed, "Nothing, I just looked at him, you know, singled him out. He seemed to like the attention and he just smiled for a while. That hog."

Andrew laughed, "Yeah, he's always been like that though. You know, looking for attention? And if you're not paying attention to him, forget it, he can get abusive."

At the last remark, Stella's eyes widened, but when Andrew saw this, he just laughed. "I didn't mean literally! But yeah, Clutch can get temperamental at times."

Stella looked at her watch and saw that it was already one thirty. "Oh my God! I have to go back to work. My boss hates it when I take long lunch breaks."

She got up to leave and as she put on her jean jacket, Andrew got up from the table and said, "I think we should do this some other time. You know, get together, maybe on Saturday?" When Stella just looked at him, he continued quickly, "And if you're not busy we could maybe hang out the whole day. I'll pick you up from your place and we'll just… I don't know, get drunk or something fun like that."

Stella smiled and laughed, "Sure, call me at work anytime, and I'll give you my address."

Andrew beamed, "Great!" His voice cracked and Stella laughed.

Back at her office, Stella reviewed the fifty pictures that she selected. She examined the one with Clutch smiling. It wasn't exactly a beaming smile, it was a small cracked smile. She decided to use that picture and submit it to her boss.

Suddenly her phone rang, "Hello, Stella James, Alternative Press." She said.

"You really need to brush up on your greetings."

"Hey Andrew…" Stella smiled.

"Andrew? Stella this is your father! Who's Andrew?" Her father questioned on the phone.

Stella's face blushed when all at one she realized that Andrew's voice and her father's were almost identical, she apologized, "Sorry dad…"

Her father inquired again, "Now's what this all about with this Andrew business? You've been gone for five years and now I hear you talking about some kid named Andrew? Who is he?"

She braced herself, "Well, I know him because I took pictures of him and his band for the cover here at the magazine. Then he asked me out to lunch today."

Her father had a mix of concern and happiness, "Well isn't that nice. I remember when I first asked your mom out to lunch, I was so nervous…. But wait, you said he's in some sort of band? Be careful with him now."

"Dad!" Stella interrupted, "I'm not dating him or anything!"

Her father laughed, "I know I know, I'm just looking out for you kid. But he seems like a really great guy, if you like him, then I like him. Okay?"

Stella smiled, "Okay."

On Saturday morning, Andrew picked up Stella from her apartment and they took a REALLY long walk on the boardwalk that was within walking distance of both of their apartments. In the morning they played arcade games and those carnival games at the sides of the boardwalk. By lunchtime, Andrew had won a whole beach bag full of small prizes. They played Frisbee on the beach before lunch, and then rode on all of the rides in the amusement park part of the boardwalk (where they got rid of their lunches quickly).

After getting off of the Tornado, Andrew and Stella couldn't stop laughing. The day had been an overwhelming day of fun… Fun that would fall under the category teenagers would consider fun. Just fooling around and messing with one another's hair.

"So, how do you think this day went?" Andrew asked, as they walked towards the beach.

The sun was beginning to set and the breeze was picking up. The view of the beach was beautiful and the air became suddenly calm.

"I think it went just as you planned it to be. I mean, come on, don't tell me you didn't have those claw machines rigged Mr. McMahon." Stella said laughing, and pointing to his large bag of stuffed animals.

Andrew smiled, "All the more animals for you my dear. And Ms. James, I would love it if you would accompany me to dinner."

"Why I would love to, Mr. McMahon."

"Do you mind if we have it at my place?"

At this, Stella's eyes went a little wide thinking about running back home to get her pepper spray. And Andrew saw this, "Don't worry, I won't try anything on you, at least not yet."

Stella took his word and decided to trust him.

At his apartment, which was not bad at all. It was an average sized apartment, and was simply furnished.

"Sorry if it's kind of a mess, I'm hardly ever home. The studio has been my home away from home." Andrew said as he picked up his keyboard off of the comfortable brown leather couch and placing it on the coffee table.

"No, my place is worse, trust me. You could like, die from the dust that has accumulated in my place." She smiled, because it was partly true. She has always been a lazy duster.

Andrew laughed, "Do you want something to drink? Water? Soda? Beer?"

Stella grinned, "Soda's fine for me."

After about ten minutes of just talking, Andrew spoke up, "Dinner's ready!"

Stella raised her eyebrows, "Really? Who are you? Emeril Speedy Gonzales, jeez."

Andrew laughed, "No, I just had to heat up some pasta. It didn't take long."

As Stella sat down at his small cluttered kitchen table, she started to shift some papers together, but most of them were doodles of people. She picked one up that caught her eye. It was a young man with thick dark hair, looking down at a sheet of music sitting in front of a keyboard. The man resembled Andrew in many ways, the eyes, nose, and hair.

"Are you a part time artist?" Stella held up the picture.

"No, that's just some artwork for my album. I thought it would be fun to put in some of my own drawings." He smiled. "Do you like them?"

She smiled too, "Yes, I think they're pretty good."

He breathed a sigh of relief as he placed a bowl of spaghetti in front of her on the table and sat down across from her. "Glad you think that, because you're the first to see them."

After looking at the pot of pasta that was on his stove, she turned to him, "Andrew, did you plan this whole thing? I mean, inviting me over and having dinner?"

Now, it was Andrew's turn to blush, "Well, you know, you have to be prepared for company. And I figured that by the end of the day we would both be starving." After she laughed, he continued, "And that movie I have in the DVD player wasn't planned either. You know, just a good way to end the evening."

After dinner, Andrew attempted to impress her by taking the initiative to wash the dishes that have piled up in his sink. But was defeated by her curiosity that led her to his living room.

Stella walked into the living room and looked over at the keyboard that was now placed on the cheap coffee table. On the sheet rack, she saw a sheet of music that was half the page, obviously not finished. She called to Andrew in the kitchen, "Hey, are you writing new material?"

From the sink, he froze and thought, Shit. He said aloud, "Um, yeah. But it's pretty bad, you know, I've just had it in my head for a little while. I started writing it but… I just kind of dropped it for a while."

Stella walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to him like a child, "Could you play it for me? Even if it's not finished, I don't care."

He finished the dishes and he looked at her, he couldn't refuse her, "Of course." When in truth, he thought the song was rather morbid, since he was writing from the heart. He didn't want to admit that most of his songs were pretty much autobiographical.

He sat down Indian style in front of the keyboard on the floor. His hands shaking as he played with the keys of the keyboard first, then he just indulged himself into the song.

It's been a bad day

Another bad day

And all I want to do is look at you and know I'm okay

From where I'm sitting these shoes ain't fitting and I'm walking backwards, looking down, don't see the sky I see the ground.

Above below you look and so you wonder where the time has gone of looking up,

Tomorrows on the way, above below you look and so you say

When I wake up in the morning is it gonna be another ugly day?

Stella nodded her head when he finished.

Andrew grew nervous but managed to smile, "You're the toughest audience I've ever had, you know that?"

Stella smiled, "No, I thought it was very… Emotional… As you can tell, I'm not a very good critic for music. All I can say is whether I like it or not." She paused and then said, "And I like it, a lot."

Andrew smiled, "When I finish it, you'll be the first to hear it." When he saw her smile again, he said, "Okay, so let's watch this movie."

"Which movie?" Stella asked, getting excited.

Andrew held up the DVD case, "Pirates of the Caribbean".

"Orlando Bloom is a hottie." Stella said as they were walking down the street.

"Well, Keira Knightly is a goddess." Andrew defended.

After watching the movie, Stella was in the mood for some ice cream so the both walked over to Cold Stone that was five blocks away from Andrew's apartment.

After about five minutes of silence and listening to the cars speeding by, Stella spoke up, "The ice cream is really good."

"Good, I paid enough for it." He laughed.

She didn't laugh though, because her mind couldn't help but wander. She thought, "He's in a successful band, and I'm sure his income is more than plenty… But why is he living such a frugal life? What could he possibly be paying for that costs him so much money?"

He looked at her concerned, "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, everything's great."

A couple of months later, Stella was lying across Andrew's couch with a laptop in her lap, typing up something for her work. Andrew was sitting on the floor in front of his keyboard, but writing music down on sheet paper furiously before he lost his train of thought. This was how they spent their weekends, with each other. Sometimes working, sometimes watching movies, but for the most part, eating. They didn't complain when one another didn't say anything, they liked it that way. It was peaceful.

However, on this particular Saturday the peace was broken.

"DUUUUUUDE!" said a booming voice from the door.

Alarmed, Stella jerked her head towards the door and looked at Andrew for an explanation for the lunatic, wearing sunglasses faded jeans, The Ramones shirt and converses, who had just barged into his apartment.

After a few seconds, Stella recognized the man as Clutch. The bass guitarist for Something Corporate, the only guy that would never smile at their photo shoot, the guy that was desperate for attention. How could she not recognize those infamous sunglasses?

"Where have you been for the past five million months?" Clutch directed his attention towards Andrew who got up from the floor to match Clutch's intimidating six foot five stature. "You've been missing out on the bar, I mean, lately, these new chicks from Texas are regulars now and—"

Andrew cut him off, trying to prevent from being further embarrassed, by clearing his throat loudly. He said, indicating to Stella who was still dumbfounded on the couch, "We have a lady in the room, Clutch. Clutch, this is Stella, Stella this is Clutch."

Clutch gave Stella an acknowledging nod with a flirtatious smile, "Hey… Andrew what have you been holding out on me?"

Andrew rolled his eyes and clenched his fists. "What the hell Clutch? It's like you see a girl and you automatically assume your role as the pervert! Oh wait, but you're always like that aren't you?" This was the first time Stella had seen Andrew this upset.

Clutch took off his sun glasses and revealed cold brown eyes, "Hey, Andrew, just get me a beer will you?"

Andrew glared at his "friend" and sauntered off into the kitchen to get a beer and possibly douse it with morphine.

Stella had shut down her laptop and was starting to pack up her things when Clutch sat down right next to her, immediately making her feel uncomfortable.

Clutch watched her put the laptop in her messenger bag when he asked, "You're that photographer for the magazine aren't you?"

She nodded her head and said, "Yeah, but I have to go now, sorry I can't stay." She tried her best not to meet his eyes. There was something about this guy that she didn't like.

Then, in one swift motion, Clutch managed to put his arm around her and say in a whisper, "We should hang out sometime. Whenever you get bored with Andrew, I'm your guy."

As fast as he had put his arm around her, she got up from where she was sitting and made a quick walk to the door. "Whatever." She called back to him, and muttered to herself, "Creep."

Andrew walked back in the room holding a beer, thinking to himself, "Morphine should be an over the counter drug…. Where's Stella?"

He immediately advanced on Clutch who was lounging on the couch in a supine position. Andrew told him bitterly, "I swear, if you made a move on her…"

Clutch shrugged and took the beer from his hand, popped it open, and took a long swig at it. He said, "Don't worry man, I didn't do anything that was out of the ordinary. Just having some fun… Speaking of fun, why have you been holding out on me?"

Andrew shook his head as he resumed his position in front of the keyboard. "I've been busy… This new album is keeping me occupied."

Clutch shook his head as he balanced the bottle on his stomach, nearly letting it slip and spill all over the floor, "No, I mean with that girl. It's so obvious that you dig her."

Andrew snapped his head to him and retorted, "Okay one, you do not dig somebody, you dig dirt. Second, this may sound corny but… She's been keeping me away from the bar, and it's been a really positive thing to me right now…"

At this Clutch's face dropped, "She's taking you away from me, that's what it is."

Andrew glared in frustration, "Since when have you even been there for me?" Clutch fell silent and staring at his beer and Andrew continued, "For all I know, you're probably going to use me, like you did with Julie!"

Clutch thought for a minute, "So that was her name? Julie? Wow, and all this time I thought it was Veronica."

Andrew screamed, "Exactly! You don't give a shit about anybody but yourself!"

Clutch rolled his eyes, this wasn't the first time Andrew has scolded him, "Listen, back to what I was saying. So, are you telling me that you don't like this girl romantically?"

Andrew was hesitant for two seconds before answering, "No, we're just friends. And I really love what we have…"

Clutch cut him off by clapping his hands with excitement, "This is great! So, could you put in a good word for me before I ask her out for next Friday?" He knew perfectly well that Andrew liked her, but he'd rather prefer his spoken words than his silent thoughts, since they accommodated with his own wants.

Shaking his head, Andrew stalled, "I don't know… You're not really her type. And I don't think that she's really your type either."

Clutch shrugged, "Yeah… But my parents have been up my ass lately. They say I'm getting too old… Ha! Since when is twenty-seven old? They want me to start bringing a girl home, and you know… that girl…. Help me out here, what's her name again?"

"Stella." Andrew said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah right, Stella, whatever."

Andrew was fuming with anger, "What the hell man? I'm not going to put in a good word for you! You can't even remember her name!"

Clutch waved his hand, "It's no big deal, after a week it should stick."

Andrew just shook his head and screamed, "LEAVE. I have more work to do."

Clutch nodded, "Yeah, I'll let you do that. I've got to go anyway. See you later."

After hearing the door rudely slam shut Andrew closed his eyes, but he could still see Stella's worried face, the same expression she held when she saw Clutch walk through the door.

The two best friends sat in a small booth in at Friendly's. The day was bright and sunny outside, and the air condition in the ice cream parlor felt refreshing from the eighty five degree weather.

"I think he's a slime ball." Stella said bluntly in a childish manner.

Andrew breathed a sigh of relieve in his mind and said, "Thank God, I was afraid that you would actually like him."

She raised an eyebrow at this and retorted, "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

"A girl who watches rock concerts on the television and then plans her wedding for the lead bassist."

Stella smiled, "Shut up, that was only once, and I was seventeen." Why do I have to tell him the tiniest details of my life?

"Do you need help finishing that?" He asked from across the small table.

Stella looked down at her hot fudge sundae and before she can say no, Andrew already had his spoon out. She was about to protest but he already had a whole scoop of vanilla ice cream and a cherry in his mouth.

"You're grotesque." She laughed.

"Why thank you." He smiled.

"Andrew?" Stella called.

She walked into Andrew's apartment with a feeling of excitement. Just a few days ago, they had given each other duplicates of their apartment keys since they spend so much time at each other's places, and it was easier to get together in this way too.

"Andrew?" She called again. As far as Stella can see, the place was messier than usual; the coffee table was littered with a couple of beer cans.

Suddenly, the last person Stella expected, or wanted, to be there appeared at the doorway to the kitchen.

"He's not here right now, he's at the studio." Clutch smiled warmly.

Stella shrugged her shoulders, "Oh, well, I guess I'll come by later then. Thanks."

As she was about to leave he caught up with her and said, "Wait, Andrew wanted the three of us to go out to dinner. We can go ahead and meet him at Friday's, that's where he wanted to meet up. Are you in?"

Stella looked at him skeptically, "Andrew didn't say anything about dinner with you. He would've mentioned it."

Clutch rolled his eyes, "Well I guess he slipped this time. Now just come on."

He gave her a little shove out the door and he made sure the door was locked behind him.

"Just answer my question."

"Are you sure Andrew said to meet us here?"

"Yeah, I'm one hundred and fifty percent sure, now please answer my question."

Clutch was starting to sound more and more agitated, but Stella just remained calm and collected. She was worried about Andrew.

"No, Andrew and I are not dating." She said quickly, and took a sip of her non alcoholic strawberry daiquiri. She regretted ordering the icy drink since the restaurant itself had its air conditioning on full blast and made the place feel like a sub degree temperature. And it didn't help that Stella was wearing a sleeveless shirt. She watched Clutch sit there comfortably in his jean jacket.

Clutch's smile widened for a moment but then contorted in a smirk, "So what exactly do you and Andrew do together? From what I hear you guys just hang out."

Stella didn't know how to answer this, so she avoided the question by taking another long sip from her drink and immediately regretting it. Brain freezes suck.

He didn't pay any attention and seemed to have forgotten what he just said five seconds ago. He continued, "I don't see how a male and female could be just friends without having any sexual tension."

The way Clutch said it irked the hell out of Stella, so she retorted, "You watch too many movies. Besides, sex doesn't prove anything, if anything it would damage it."

Clutch looked peeved and he said, "I think that it allows the relationship to grow…"

He didn't need to continue because Stella cut him off, "And this is coming from you? I find it hard to believe."

From the look in his eyes, it made her want to back away from him, and he raised his voice, "Well you know what, from my previous experiences sex only opens a door, a door to a person's secrets. I thought that you ought to know that."

Stella glared, "What are you suggesting? Andrew is keeping something from me?"

This was not Clutch's ideal conversation at dinner and he snapped, "Well maybe there is something you have to know about Andrew. And I'm not talking about a secret like how his sister made him cry over a game of Monopoly two Christmases ago."

Andrew entered his apartment at eight o'clock. All the lights were off and the sound of the rain pelting against the windows was evident in the quiet living room. The room was cleaner than before, the beer cans were thrown away and instead of loose papers, the coffee table had neat stacks of papers. But they weren't just any music sheets or regular lined sheets. Andrew took a step closer and realized that they were his medical bills and records.

"When were you going to tell me?"

The voice was so soft that he almost didn't comprehend it. Andrew turned around to see Stella hugging her knees pulled up to her chin sitting on the couch in the dark. He turned the light on the nearest lamp stand. Her face was blotched with tears and her cheeks were flushed. After she sniffle her nose Andrew tried to embrace her in a hug but she backed away.

"When were you going to tell me?" She repeated, only she shouted it this time.

Andrew wrangled his hands together and said, "I couldn't find the right time…"

"Bull." Stella shouted.

Andrew took a deep breath and his brows furrowed in frustration. "Do you know how hard it is? To tell someone that you… care deeply about? I didn't want you treat me any different—."

Stella began the waterworks again. She hated being so overdramatic, but she couldn't help it. Not now. "I wouldn't have… I would've treated you the same way…"

Andrew shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have. When I told my friends, they all avoided me for months. They acted as if I was contagious, but these things just happen."

Stella was silent for a long time and Andrew took this as an opportunity to make things better. So he sat down next to her. When she didn't inch away he took this as a good sign and began to speak.

"Stella, I've been meaning to tell you this for months." He paused, "I have acute lymphoblastic leukemia." Damn, this is like a movie. "That's when there is an overproduction of malignant white blood cells in the bone marrow."

Stella nodded, she had researched all of this already and this wasn't news.

He continued, "It all started when I had a bad case of laryngitis. I finally went to the doctor about it and he told me the news." He paused again, "I was lucky though, my sister flew right in and she donated stem cells for me and I had a transplant." But it could come back.

When Andrew finally looked up, Stella was still crying.

Finally she spoke up in a soft voice, "You have no idea how much it hurt hearing that from Clutch. I would have rather heard it from you."

He suppressed his rage, "Well you have no idea how much it hurt to even think about telling you and only imagining what your reaction would be."

After listening to the rain beat against the window, Stella got up from the couch. She slowly picked up her bag from the coffee table and put on one of Andrew's sweatshirts that she borrowed from him weeks ago.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go." she said as she made her way to the door.

Andrew sat motionless, alone on the couch for a moment. Right before he buried his face in his hands.

Three weeks later Stella arrived home from work to see her mail already placed on her blue kitchen counter. On the top of the small collection of envelops was a green postcard that stuck out as a sore thumb. She read it:

You are invited to see Jack's Mannequin's performance in the basement of Maverick Records Towers in Los Angeles at 7pm this Friday. Don't miss out on this exclusive event! ---Free food.

Sincerely Yours,

Members of Jack's Mannequin

& Maverick Records

In a Sharpie marker in familiar handwriting, someone scribbled on the front, "Please come, I really need to talk to you. Love, Andrew."

Stella showed her postcard to the buff bodyguard who was shielding the descending stairs to the brightly lit basement of Maverick Records. She thanked him politely and made her way down not knowing at all what to expect.

"I can't thank you enough Brian. You really saved my ass tonight." Andrew thanked his good friend graciously.

"Eh, what are friends for? I'm getting paid though right?" Brian laughed. He ran his hand through his light brown curly hair nervously. He had just gotten the music today and he hoped that he had it all ready to perform. "I would never do that to you Ross; I've known you since high school."

Andrew smiled. No one has called him Ross since he was teenager.

"All right, I think we're ready to go." One of the stage crews announced.

"Knock them off their feet, Andrew," Brian smiled and gave him a thumps up as he took his seat in front of the drum set.

"She's says I'm much too thin she asks me if I'm sick, what's a girl to do with friends like me."

As Andrew opened up with Holiday From Real Stella realized that this was all new material that he had been experimenting with. She smiled when she realized that she fell in love with the song. She looked around to see any familiar faces. The basement was actually pretty small, it looked like it could only contain about fifty people and it was well lit. The stage was only about two feet above the ground and could barely fit all of the instruments needed. Stella now loves private shows.

After the song was finished, Andrew got up from his piano and spoke into the microphone while his eyes perused the small crowd. "I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight and celebrating the one hundred day anniversary of my stem cell transplant."

Stella's mouth went dry while everyone else was cheering and clapping. She decided to look for a drink.

"Now, I just wrote this song, it brand new, and you guys are going to be the first to hear it. It's called Miss. Delaney." Andrew pinpointed Stella with his eyes, she had her back turned. But from where he standing he could see that she froze.

"All My Children is overrated." Andrew complained.

"But I like Kim Delaney! She's, my mom's hero." Stella protested, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

He only rolled his eyes, "Well then, I think I might just call you Miss. Delaney, Miss. Delaney."

She smiled at him, "I actually don't mind that, Delaney is a cool last name."

"And now you can call me Greg…Just because I want to be Greg."

Oh, Miss Delaney
What's the matter?
You waited by the window
(You waited by the window)
I waited by the door
Oh, Miss Delaney
Where's your boyfriend?
He isn't up in heaven, so
Why treat him like he's dead

It's not that everyday
Everyday is coming up
With the green grass
But the times pass, when
I think of you
Whenever I'm at dinner

Stella had a hard time swallowing her water. He wrote a song. A song about us, and song for me. Andrew McMahon wrote a song for me. She was almost tearing, but she blinked the tears away.

"We're going to take a short break so… stand tight." Andrew spoke into the microphone.

Brian got up from where he was sitting and have Andrew a high-five. "That was amazing." Brian smiled.

"Yeah, that was. Hey, do you want to meet somebody?" Andrew asked, when Brian nodded his head, Andrew led him over to Stella, who was standing by the wall looking at him expectantly.

"Hey Stella, this is my friend, Brian. He plays the drums in Something Corporate, I don't know if you remember—." Andrew started but Stella cut him off by a brilliant smile and outstretched her hand towards Brian.

"I remember you, I photographed you." Stella smiled warmly. At least now I know not all of Andrew's friends are imbeciles.

Brian smiled too, except it was an uncomfortable smile which was promptly explained for, "I have to pee. Sorry, I'll be back." Brian smiled quickly then walked quickly to the nearest bathroom.

There was a few seconds of silence between the two friends.

"I'm glad you came." Andrew smiled warmly.

"Me too." Stella smiled.

"There's a party afterwards at my place. You can come if you want. There's only going to be a few friends over. Nothing major, we can get a chance to catch up."

His words stung her, she felt horrible for avoiding him. He didn't even do anything.

"I don't know, I have a lot of work to catch up on at home." Stella lied. She hated this. "But I love watching you perform. It's such a change of scenery compared to your living room."

Andrew hid his acute disappointment with a smile, "Yeah, I know right? So much peer pressure, gosh."

Two hours later, Stella stood in front of Andrew's doorstep, afraid to ring the doorbell. It was pouring rain and she was sure she looked like a mess. But she didn't care. So instead of knocking on the door, she stood outside, watching Andrew standing among his friends, talking and having a good time.

She turned her head away and thoughts seared through her head, "What the hell am I doing here? Why am I watching him like some stupid teenager? Why did I get up and leave that day?"

Suddenly, her thoughts were broken when she heard the door open.

Shit she thought, her eyes darting around for a place to hide, but it was too late.

"Stella, are you fucking insane?"

Andrew said it in a harsh whisper. And now he was getting soaked even before he shut the door behind him.

Stella was glad it was raining so that her tears would be inconspicuous, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left so suddenly that night, I just didn't know what to think…"

Andrew shushed her and shook his head, "Well I'm sorry I didn't tell you soon enough. This is all my fault." His voice softened and he looked at her dolefully.

Stella shook her head too and instead of saying anything, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He wrapped his own arms around her waist and whispered, "You have no idea how much I love you."

"And neither do you." Stella smiled.

With their friendship back together, Andrew and Stella spent more time with each other more than ever. However, one afternoon, Stella was lounging around at her apartment reading a book, when she heard that fateful knock.

Andrew was standing at her doorstep with dozens of moving boxes surrounding him. His face was beat red and sweat was evident on his forehead. He looked embarrassed as he glanced down at his shoes.

"It's a long story." He whispered.

Stella looked at her best friend sympathetically and said, "Try me."

"So, I didn't realize how behind I was in bills. I mean, damn, once those doctors find your income and credit history, they just keep charging you more and more. I hate big fancy hospitals." Andrew laughed. "And now my landlord kicked me out because I'm two months behind, and he's even charging me interest."

Stella shook her head in sadness, "It perfectly fine if you want to live here for a while. You can stay as long as you want to… But what about your family? Why don't they help you out?"

Andrew sighed, "I don't want them to think I'm incapable. It was enough for my sister to save my life by donating tissue, but I don't want to bug them about something like money. I think it's indecent." He paused for a second and added, "Not that I'm asking you for any money, I just need a place to stay other than in a box on the beach."

Stella nodded and went back to her book while Andrew moved all of his stuff in.

"NO! YOU ARE NOT KEEPING THAT UGLY GNOME!"

"WHY NOT? I BOUGHT IT FOR TWO BUCKS AT A YARD SALE!"

"Ha, I wonder why."

Stella glared at the wooden dwarf that now occupied the corner in her room since her living room was already cluttered with all of Andrew's things.

"This is fun," Stella smiled.

"Tell me about it, "Andrew laughed.

A couple of days later, Stella answered a peculiar phone call.

"Stella? Is Andrew there?" the voice asked.

"Who is this?"

"It's Clutch."

"… Oh. You're still around?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, well. I need to ask you for a favor. Listen, Andrew didn't tell you yet but he wanted it to be a surprise. The three of us, that means you, are going to have dinner with my parents tonight. It's pretty formal so you should wear a dress, preferably black."

After taking this all in Stella said, "Andrew doesn't like surprises."

"Well apparently you don't know him as well as you think you do." Clutch snapped. "I'll pick you up in an hour."

Clutch's parents' house is a freaking mansion. Stella thought as she and Clutch drove up in his beat up red Chevy. The mansion resembled the White House, and was settled on twenty acres of well manicured land.

"You look great." Clutch said with a smile as he opened the door for her to get out.

Stella didn't know whether to be pleased or revolted. Her simple black cocktail dress was overdressed compared to Clutch's shirt, tie, jeans, and converses. So she just rolled her eyes.

"When's Andrew getting here?" She asked, looking at the dirt road that led to the house for any sign of headlights.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? He can't come, something came up." He replied briskly.

Stella stopped in her tracks and glared at the back of Clutch's neck. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

"You must be Stella! I'm sorry my husband isn't here, but he's out on a business trip. But it's so nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you from Kevin." Clutch's mom smiled warmly, very unlike Clutch.

"Oh, yes, Kevin has been such a doll." Stella smirked as she threw glares at "Clutch".

"I'm so glad Kevin found a nice girl! How long have you two been dating?" Mrs. Page asked.

Stella's eyebrows furrowed and as she opened her mouth to protest, Clutch beat her to it.

"We've been going out for seven months now mom." With this having been said, he grabbed Stella's hand and forced their fingers to intertwine.

"You fucking LIED to me! Why did you tell your mom that we were going out? That is far from the truth, let me tell you." Stella was fuming, her face blotched red from embarrassment.

"If you're bothered so much about it, why didn't you say anything. You just stood there like a freaking zombie who just woke up from the dead." Clutch screamed.

Stella grew more nervous instead of angry. They were in the car now, and his temper was evident in his driving. It was raining hard and he had to wear those dumb sunglasses everywhere, even in the car, which also affected his vision on the road.

"Calling me a zombie. Well you sure know how to treat a lady don't you?" She muttered under her breath.

"What the hell did you say?" Clutch said angrily, his voice teeming with impatience.

And before she could answer, Stella felt a hand smack her hard against her cheek and she screamed in pain. But her scream wasn't the only sound heard, an oncoming car's horn was being blasted and the sound of metal colliding against metal filled the atmosphere.

"She's in a critical condition, but we should be able to release her in about a week."

"How about the driver, is he in critical condition too? And I hope that is a yes because…"

"I'm sorry sir, but the driver of the vehicle just signed a release form with only a few bruises."

"What? How is that possible?"

"The young lady's body shielded him from contracting any fatal injuries. He was a lucky one."

"… How bad is she?"

"Her left arm is broken, and she has some serious bruises and cuts. Even though she's not lucky, she's blessed."

"Miss, you have to tell me what happened." The doctor said. His voice was sympathetic and filled with pity. Except, she didn't want any of his pity.

"About what? I got in a car accident, it says right there in the file you're holding." Stella spoke calmly, but her eyes kept looking at the closed door. It didn't help her anxiety knowing that Andrew was standing right outside.

"Yes, but there is a visible handprint on your left cheek, I don't believe that that is the result of a car accident." He spoke slowly and seriously. And when she didn't answer, he continued, "You know, I take unhealthy relationships seriously. On a personal note, I find that it's part of my practice to take care of patients. I just don't want to see such a young girl like you end up here again for unnecessary reasons."

Stella avoided eye contact with the man as she said, "Mr. Cohen, you know me very well. You've known me since I was a child and you are good friends with my parents. I would never get into that kind of relationship."

He shortly added, "And if you were, then you should seek help immediately. Contact me, here's my card, but I'll write Seth's phone number on the back if you're not able to reach me in case of an emergency."

Stella smiled, "How is Seth? I haven't seen that chap for years!"

Mr. Cohen smirked at the mention of his son, "Oh, he's gotten himself married. Splendid girl, but now they're having troubles. And you know the young kids nowadays, they just want to give up easily and start over from scratch."

Stella nodded, "I couldn't have said it better myself."

"Why did you even go with him? I told you that guy is dangerous. And once I tell you that then you go and run off with him not knowing where you're going and why. Do you lack that much common sense?"

Andrew was yelling in the car on the way back to Stella's apartment from the hospital. The handprint was gone, and similarly, Stella wanted the memory to fade away. The day was chilly, damp and gray. It demonstrated Stella's mood precisely.

"You are not to go off with him again you understand?"

Stella was jerked out of her own thoughts from the harshness of Andrew's voice.

"Yes, I promise." And she thought that promise was going to be easy to keep.

"I promised Andrew we'd go out tonight." Stella said slowly. It was hard to calm her nerves under the glare Clutch was emitting.

"I don't care, there's a benefit at the country club and if I show up without you, my parents will ask questions. Just go and get dressed." His voice was malignant and his stance threatening. Never had anyone made Stella feel so small.

After a whole minute of stillness, she thought that he was going to scream again, but instead she saw him make another step towards her. She inched away farther from him and she accidentally bumped into an end table. She looked down at the table and saw a photo frame, and inside there was a picture of Andrew and her. It was taken a few weeks ago at his sister's house where they barbequed and splashed around in her pool. The two people in the picture were so ethereal and content from the hamburgers and each other's company.

"We already missed the first fifteen minutes of it. Come on."

The brashness of his voice jerked her out of her thoughts and what she did next surprised her. Her sarcastic attitude crept into her skin, "Well I never accepted the invitation." But then she became a little more doleful, "This is hurting Andrew. I promised him…"

"Promised him what? You said it yourself; you guys aren't going out or anything." Clutch was furious at the thought of being lied to. He decided to insinuate with her, "But you know what would really hurt Andrew?" Her eyes widened at this statement, afraid for him to continue. "What if I were to switch Andrew's meds? You know, nothing drastic, like morphine. Just switch the antibiotics with sleeping pills or something. But either way, he wouldn't get better and his condition will only get worse."

Stella glared at him, "How can you think of such a thing? You're… diabolical. You could kill him!" Her shout incited something within him.

"Diabolical? You're telling me that I'm diabolical?" His bitterness increased towards her.

"You took the words right out of my mouth." She rolled her eyes as the sarcasm nearly destroyed her.

For a moment there was tension, until the palm of his hand met her cheek with a quick swift motion, causing her to lose her balance and stagger to the wall for support. With her elbows against the wall, she nearly regained composure but pushing herself upright.

"Remember what I said, it's either Andrew, or no Andrew." After he said this, Clutch new he touched a nerve in her. He was sure that she would cry at any moment for bringing Andrew into the picture.

"Okay fine, I'll go. Just promise not to do anything to Andrew." And without looking at him, she made her way to her bedroom, locked the door behind her, and walked to her mirror. She frowned at her reflection. A new bruise was developing in the area where Clutch had struck her, the second time.

However, at the moment, it only meant that she had to put on more makeup than usual.

"Stella, what's wrong with you? You didn't talk at all tonight."

"Andrew, all we did was watch movies."

"Well that's not a good excuse." After a pause Andrew spoke up again, "See, you're doing it again!"

It was then and there, on Stella's couch, during an intense swordfight between Jack Sparrow and Will Turner on the screen, where Andrew held a "stare down" against her. When he realized that it was futile he took drastic measures. Soon, he had his fingers brushing furiously against her stomach and sent her over the edge laughing. He didn't stop or cease his attack on her- to make her laugh.

"Ha! Okay stop!" She smiled genuinely at her friend. Andrew smiled down at her too and he couldn't resist, he poked her in the ribs, but her reaction wasn't what he expected at all.

"Ow! Why did you have to do that?" She whined, and covered her ribs protectively with her arms.

His eye brows arched and he looked at her superciliously, "I didn't know you were that fragile. Is there something wrong? Do you have a battle wound or something there?"

"No, I just have cramps." She said coolly.

Andrew furrowed his eyebrows, "No way are you going to pull that on me. That time was two weeks ago. Believe me I know, I've been living with you too long."

"Fine, I just jabbed myself into a railing, hard, that's all." She hated how it came so natural, lying.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not convinced. "I know you're clumsy, but you're not that much of a klutz."

She didn't have to say anything though, he already knew. From the moment he came home that one day and found her reclined on the couch passed out. When he had woken her up, she said she was napping. Napping my ass. He thought to himself. She was out stone cold, and she had the smell of liquor on her clothes, the smell of Clutch.

"Why don't we just take an early holiday? You know, to get away from all the messed up stuff here. We can go to your parents house and then scoot over to mine, it'll be fun. You know, sleeping in our old bedrooms and stuffing our faces. We'll be like teenagers again, mooching off of our parents for two weeks. It'll be fun." Andrew smiled encouragingly and carefully nudged her shoulder playfully.

With a warm smile, she agreed. He could see the prodigious relief in her face, and he made a promise to her in silence, "I'll protect you."

In the hospital, Adam was on the phone with a nearby airport, pacing outside of Stella's room. Meanwhile, she dreamt peacefully.

"Andrew…?"

"Stella, we don't have a lot of time, so I have to make this quick."

Andrew's words stung Stella. It wasn't exactly the most desired greeting a best friend can give after a whole year gone by without seeing each other.

"Go with Adam, and don't question anything he says, just do it. Trust me, he means well."

"Andrew… What are you talking about?"

"Just listen, go with Adam. Then don't be scared when he has to leave, because someone else will come and take care of you." He spoke hurriedly and with urgency.

"I can take care of myself." Stella said bitterly.

Andrew's face softened, "I know that you can take care of yourself. You just have to let people assist you." Andrew tried to be careful with his words, afraid of making his best friend cry.

"I think about you all the time. I think about all the times you would come with me to church. I think about that weekend we spent at my parents' house. I think about that day when you went to the hospital…" Stella said all the while trying not to cry.

"Don't worry," Andrew said in a hushed voice, "I'll send you someone who will love you, almost as much as I love you."

"Andrew?" Stella spoke up. When she held his gaze, she said, "I love you, too."

Seth's face lit up when he saw her eyes open. It was eight in the morning and he had been waiting for nearly an hour, "Good! You're awake. Come on, I'm going to get you out of here. I have the release form for you to sign and Katie packed you a couple of bags. We don't have a lot time."

Stella, remembering Andrew's words, only nodded.

"You're really scaring me. You've been quiet the whole entire car ride to the airport and you wouldn't say a world while we were getting on the plane. Are you okay?"

Stella looked up at Seth, who had a worried expression on his face.

"No, I'm fine." Stella said, "I love first class seats." She smiled and stretched her legs in front of her. But when Seth shot her another look, she shook her head. "I was just thinking about Andrew, again. How we used to go to church."

Kill the messenger
I swear it's not me
It's just someone I used to know
And get to church cause you're a good girl
And he never told you that
And all I need from you
Could be the thing that
Leaves us both up here forever
I'm gonna send a little rain your way

"Where are you going all dressed up?"

Andrew looked up from his piano, to see Stella, a vision in yellow. Her bangs were pulled back away from her face. And she actually wore lipstick.

She smoothed out her skirt saying, "Church, I'm going to the five thirty mass."

He was taken aback, "Since when do you go to church?"

She laughed and smiled, "Since I was born. Do you want to come?"

Andrew thought about it for a second, "I would love to go! Hold on, I have to put on something decent."

Andrew got up and walked quickly into her room to change. "Okay…" Stella said, going through her purse, making sure she had her keys.

A minute later, Andrew walked past Stella. "How do I look?"

Stella took a glance at what he was wearing: The same khaki pants, the same while collared shirt, but a new tie around his neck.

"Yeah, you look like Casablanca. Now let's go."

"And we have the courage to say…"

Stella took Andrew's hand and recited the familiar words that rolled off her tongue, "Our Father…"

Andrew looked over at Stella, who had her eyes closed, and then smiled, his grip on her hand tightened slightly.

"You may now give each other the sign of peace."

Andrew smiled as Stella gave him the hippie peace sign. She smiled too, until Andrew kissed her lips. It was deep, but brief, and left her in shock.

"Peace be with you, love." He whispered.

Seth stared at her, almost in a strange gawking fashion.

"So… you and Andrew… were pretty tight?" Seth sounded as if he had a revelation, when in truth, he was only excited. This is the most he has ever gotten to know Stella.

Stella nodded.

"Is there anything else I should know about you?" Seth was joking of course but he didn't expect what was coming, at all.

"I'm married." Stella stared at her golden band on her finger wistfully.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've hardly touched your plate at dinner."

Stella and Andrew were now at her parents' house in Massachusetts. They had just arrived that day early in the morning and had been received warmly by her parents. Her father looked a little worried when he caught a sight of Andrew "the rocker" as he called him, but her mother only smothered him with hugs telling him that he's the son she never had and he should gain more weight.

"Yeah I'm fine." Andrew's voice came out as a cracked whisper. Clearing his throat did him no good.

"Do you need to see a doctor? The hospital is fifteen minutes away." She was concerned now. After a whole minute of silence, Stella furrowed her eyebrows and sat on the full sized bed. "Why are you always hiding things from me?" She asked.

Andrew shook his head, and sat down next to her. "I'm not hiding things from you. I'm protecting you."

This upset her, "What are you talking about? Protecting me from what? Please, whatever you want to say, say it now."

He turned his face towards her and with a powerful expression, he said, "Will you marry me?"

"And we got married in a small church a week later. It wasn't an elaborate wedding, our wedding parties were small. I had Katie be my maid of honor and he had Brian as his best man. We invited the immediate family only, the reception was held at my parents' house and his parents gave us their summer house by the shore in Massachusetts as a wedding gift. The summer house was pretty big, but not intimidating. It had four bedrooms, and everything was furnished. We were set to live there for the rest of our lives." Tears left wet streaks on her cheeks but her voice remained steady and calm. "That was the best year of my life. But then one night something went wrong. On his way to bed, he collapsed. At the hospital, the doctors found that his leukemia spread and it was too late to do anything about it. He passed away peacefully two weeks later."

Seth cleared his throat and said, "We're here."

Confused Stella looked out of the cab's soiled window. She heard the familiar sound of small flock's of sea gulls in the background and the waves rolling into shore. And then she saw it, the quaint white house with green shutters. It had a fresh coat of paint and new windows were installed. We always did have those terrible drafts. Stella couldn't help but reminisce. She walked up the brick pathway leading to the main door. She smiled as memories flooded back to her. It was almost as if she was reliving something that happened five years ago.

"It's beautiful, I love it!" Stella squealed.

Andrew smothered her cheeks in kisses in response. He was still in his tux and she was in her wedding dress. He closed the door with his foot since his arms were occupied by carrying Stella bridal style.

And before she could use the brass door knocker, the white door opened.

"Brian!" Stella's smile widened as she pulled him in for a tight hug.

Brian returned the hug and Stella pulled away to get a look at him. His hair grew longer but was still fairly short and he wore jeans and a sweatshirt. He hasn't changed at all. She thought.

Seth loomed behind her awkwardly carrying her suitcase.

"Well, I thought the house was vacant when I called your parents… But apparently you two know each other…" Seth spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry Seth, this is Brian. Brian this is Seth. Seth brought me here and helped me out in California. Brian is a close friend of the family and he's been taking care of a lot of things for me here." Stella spoke hurriedly. She tried to peer over Brian's shoulder and into the house.

Seth stood in his spot puzzled. "What kind of things has he been taking care of?"

And as if on cue a little boy with brown wavy hair came running from behind Brian. Stella laughed and picked the boy up and hugged him tight.

"I've missed you kid," She cried, "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, as long as you're staying for good." The little boy beamed at Stella with the familiar dark blue eyes that she would dream about.

Seth was mystified, Who is this kid?

"Seth, I want you to meet Andrew, my son." Stella couldn't stop smiling. She added, "Named after his father of course." As if it would help wipe off the confused expression on Seth's face. Now I can settle down and raise this family. I've wanted this for so long… for five years.

"Why did you stay with that jackass? You had so much support here. Brian could have taken care of you, and you could have been with your son…" Seth was flustered, sitting on the comfortable brown leather couch.

For the past few hours, Stella had been unpacking and playing with Andrew at the beach. Now, the day was coming to a close and Seth didn't want any of his questions to go unanswered. Andrew was tucked in and slept peacefully upstairs in his room, and Brian was on his laptop in his own room. Downstairs, only the kitchen light and a lamp next to Seth were on. Outside the wind blew nonchalantly and the waves came in calmly and monotonously.

Stella sat on the sturdy wooden coffee table opposite of Seth who drank tedious sips of tea in a mug. He had asked for coffee, but there was no way she was going to give his blood caffeine.

"The timing wasn't right. I had to wait until he met other girls, or else he would have come after me. And I knew it was okay to leave if he was never at his home anymore. He wouldn't miss me. It was almost like he wanted me to leave. That last time I called you, I knew he was telling me to leave."

Seth sat still and buried his head in his hands. Now it was Stella's turn to ask, "What's wrong?"

He lifted his head, "Today I am officially divorced. This is bad. I'm only twenty seven. I'm not supposed to be divorced. I'm supposed to be young and in love. Not divorced." His voice cracked and he squeezed his eyes to prevent the tears from pouring. "It's just another celebrity relationship gone bad."

Without hesitation she spoke up, "Call her and talk to her. Reconcile. She misses you, and she regrets the divorce."

He couldn't ignore the confidence in her voice, "How do you know that?"

She shrugged, "I called her. We had some girl talk, you know, where we spill out guts out. We were good at it too. She talked about the divorce and I talked about Andrew and Clutch, it was easy."

Seth did call his ex-wife, and it must have gone well since he booked the first flight out back to California in order to see her.

It was 2am and Stella was exhausted. She stealthily walked towards the bedroom she had once shared with Andrew. She frowned as she opened the door. Everything had remained the same. The same blue comforter, the sheer white curtains, the cherry oak dresser, pale green walls, dark brown hard wood floor, the worn blue rug, and the mirror that hung on the wall opposite of the door that led into the room. Every speck of the room was clean and in an even condition when she had left it all.

However, no matter how hard she tried, Stella couldn't take another step into the room. Involuntarily, a tear slid down her cheek when she saw a pair of worn blue flip flops in the closet. She looked to mirror and for an instant saw her late husband standing right next to her smiling in the reflection. She jumped back a step out of the room.

She closed the door behind her as she faced the dark hallway. The only light that was emitted by the stars shone through the skylight that stretched throughout the entire hallway. Her bare feet padded softly against the warm rug that elongated on the hard wood floor. She paused in front of the doorway to Andrew's room. She saw his light brown wavy hair on the pillow but the rest of his face and body was covered by the airplane printed blankets. She smiled and moved on to the next door which was closed. She knocked lightly on it and when she heard a grumble from inside she pushed the door open.

"Hey," Stella saw Brian sit up quickly and regretted waking him up, "I'm so sorry, I'll just…"

Brian shook his head, "What are you sorry about? You don't have to be saying sorry, I'm nothing like Kev, come in."

She smiled gratefully but the name still made her uneasy. "Thanks." She walked to the side of his bed but still remained standing. "You know, I had one of those Harry Potter moments."

Brian faked a gasp, "That tree didn't start attacking you again did it?"

Stella smiled, "No…" For the moment she forgot about the reflections in the mirror. "You did such a great job with Andrew. Especially if he's been on the road with you, with all of those bad influences of rock stars…"

"I highly doubt William Tell could be accounted for as a rock star." Brian interrupted her with a tired laugh. "It was fun."

After a couple of minutes listening to Andrew snore in the next room, Brian spoke up, "What happened? Why are you up?"

Stella frowned, "I can't go in that room. I haven't been in there since he passed away." She started to cry again.

Brian frowned and pulled her into a hug, "You can sleep here tonight." He couldn't believe at her age she is a widow with son.

"Thanks Bri," She smiled appreciatively and slowly started to slide under the covers next to him.

While Brian lied there next to her, he wasn't sure what to do. Here was one of his best friends, and she had just been through hell. She had lost her spouse, love her life, and best friend. She gave birth to a son and had to leave him behind while she traveled to the other end of the country in order to protect him. Now she's there, with a few more bruises than she started out with. With caution, Brian slipped an arm protectively around her. This action did not insinuate any intimacy, just comfort

"I'll protect you." He whispered nearly inaudibly.

And for a split second, his voice seemed to have morphed into one that once belonged to the late Andrew. And Stella could not ask for more.