Every year, thousands of people are admitted into the Witness Security Program, a program intended to protect and preserve the lives of American citizens who have witnessed horrendous crimes which threaten their own livelihood.
Some would say the price is the loss of a life.
James Diamond would say that the price is to sell your soul to the devil, regretfully kissing a life goodbye without any parting words. Clinging onto fame with a few fingers before dropping off the face of the earth. Disappearing without a trace from family and friends.
But with any end, there is a beginning.
This is the end of James Diamond and the beginning of Tom Johnson.
The club was far too dark and the music, far too loud. James turned his head slightly to look at Logan who had relaxed at the bar beside him. "What're you doing here?" Logan asked in a loud voice, trying to overpower the music.
"Drinking," James held up his short glass and rolled his eyes.
"Jesus, James," Logan muttered with a smile. "How many is that?"
He shrugged, "I don't count. That just ruins the fun."
"Why aren't you dancing? Or with a girl?" Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers on the bar.
"Don't feel like it."
In truth, James needed a cigarette. He craved it. He had convinced himself that if he was going to live through this night, he would need to smoke a cigarette. However, he was out of cigarettes, much to his chagrin. And until he got that cigarette he would not get up off of that bar stool. Sure, he could get up and charm a girl until he was able to snatch a cigarette off her, but that would take energy. James Diamond did not waste energy on charming girls.
"The one day I can come up from school and spend some time out with you, you are acting all depressed," Logan smirked.
James murmured quietly, "Do you have a cigarette?"
Logan's smile fell, "You know I don't smoke, James. And you shouldn't either."
"I know," he growled. "I thought I'd ask."
Awkwardly looking away, Logan mumbled, "Why don't you have your cigarettes?"
"Because I just don't," James ran his hand over his face. He felt slight stubble across his cheeks bristle his hands. "It feels like withdrawal."
"Because it is," Logan groaned. "Come on. Get off of your ass and get onto the dance floor." He started to pull back on his arm.
James gave into Logan's pulling, stumbling out onto the dance floor. "Look, I really don't feel up to it."
"You're talking like you're old. Join the party," Logan started to hop to the music.
It was one of those nights. Normally, James could hold his alcohol and could stay up all night. He'd never be alone. Girl after girl, night after night. That was the pattern that continued for awhile.
But one of those nights consisted of him having a few drinks and then feeling like the floor was falling out from beneath him and that his heart was going to explode out of his chest. One of those nights.
In an instant, Logan disappeared. James reached out for his hand to try and compel himself to move a little bit further into the mess of alcohol and glitter, but it was too late. Girls had already started piling themselves around him, making a tight barricade that he could not get out of without stepping on a few nicely manicured toenails. James didn't have the energy. One girl already started to run her hands up his sides and breathe provocative words into his ear.
Her tenacious manner was the kind that James craved. Not tonight. He tried to push her away, but her hands were tightly grasping the sleeves of his black blazer. James took one of her hands and pulled it off of his arm. Looking at her didn't help much. He couldn't actually make out any of her facial features. All that registered was the bleached blonde hair that glowed purple in the black light. The fury behind his gaze turned into seduction. "Hey, you gotta cigarette?" he asked.
She smiled boldly, "Yeah…You want one?"
"Yeah," James jumped at the chance. Adrenaline started pumping through his veins. He was going to get a cigarette. He grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her through the wall of girls.
The girl followed in submission, laughing. She didn't even notice that her hand was practically being crushed in James' grip. "Slow down," she giggled. "My shoes are not meant for running."
When James finally stopped to give the girl a break, they were already at the back exit of the club. James pushed through and let out a deep sigh. The fresh air took away that feeling of suffocation.
She was out of breath and she reached out to him, "You're really eager."
"Cigarette."
"Now, slow down a little," the girl smiled. "You don't even know my name."
James blinked once, "That's a prerequisite?"
The girl laughed again, running her hand up James' chest, "I'm Paula."
"Hi," James flashed her his ladykiller smile and then slowly let it contort back into a grimace. "The cigarette-"
"And you're James. James Diamond," Paula tossed her hair.
"Yep," he said, now with his teeth grit.
She contorted her face into a silly looking grin, "I used to listen to you all the time when I was a teenager."
Used to. That stung a bit. "Great," James looked away from her, his outstretched hand impatient for the cigarette.
"What're the lyrics? Uh…If you want it all, lay it on the line. It's the only life you got so you gotta live it big time!" Paula sang with a cutesy intonation that was infuriating. "You know, I'm an actress."
Great, another actress. Women were always trying to get their careers started through James. He didn't know how many times he had heard that one.
He clenched his hand into a fist, frustration flowing through his veins. Irrational, as usual, James pushed Paula up against the wall and forced his lips onto hers in an aggressive kiss. He ran his hands down her sides and felt the cigarette box in the front pocket of her shorts, fished it out and broke away from Paula who reached out with longing in her gaze.
James took out one cigarette and handed it back to Paula who took it almost dejectedly, but let another smile cross her face. He took a blue disposable lighter out of his back pocket, put the cigarette in his mouth, and lit it in one swift motion. Inhaling the toxic fumes made James go rigid in a sensual way.
He breathed out the smoke like fire and he looked down the alley for a moment before Paula caught his attention. "So, what has Big Time Rush been up to lately?"
Well, let's see. Kendall is back in Minnesota, playing professional hockey, Logan is trying pre-med on for size. Carlos decided to become a stunt double. And me, well, I'm partying and fucking girls' brains out. The last part was incomplete. James had been doing guest staring roles in soap operas and even had a recurring role on a primetime drama. And there were always the endorsement deals and odd modeling jobs. None of that really satisfied him though.
"We're getting older and moving on," James said simply.
"You say that like you're going through a midlife crisis or something," Paula laughed lightly.
Anyone could've said that about James and they would've been practically correct. You couldn't call it a midlife crisis as James was only twenty-five. James wouldn't call it that though. He would defend his actions and laugh off the sympathy and attempted help.
"Anyway," James took another drag on the cigarette and pinned Paula against the wall a second time, "Where were we?"
Even if she was annoyingly peppy, that didn't prevent James from a little fun. He didn't have to listen to her talk. Paula twirled James' brown locks in her fingers and nibbled on his lower lip delicately. He ripped himself away again and sucked on the cancer stick again. "You're good," he murmured.
"I know," she said, slipping her forefingers into his belt loops. Their bodies were flesh on flesh. James could smell a fruity drink on her breath. They were just about to kiss again as James ran his hand down the small of her back and onto her backside, but suddenly there were shouts echoing from down the alley.
James looked up first to see two men yelling at one another. Just another random fight, he thought.
Oh, but how wrong he was.
Paula stood up straighter and turned back to the door to rush back in. Unfortunately, it was locked. She turned back to James with a panicked expression. He responded with a smirk, "Don't worry about it. They're probably drunk and fighting about drugs or something."
Punches were being thrown. He could faintly make out the words. Some things about cash and lies and women. Stuff James dealt with on a day to day basis. Paula pulled on his sleeve, "Come on, let's go."
"Shhh…" James silenced her and listened more closely.
"I know you killed her," the first man said, a shorter man in all black. "You think that you and Gary can just get away with that shit?"
The second man pushed the other against the wall and growled, "What are you gonna do about it?"
"That's not your only crime," he spat back. "You've got robberies, drugs, those rapes…"
"Oh my god," Paula murmured.
"You're not threatening me, are you?"
"I am," he gritted his teeth in response. "I'm gonna go to the police, you're not getting away with that too, Chris."
The reply was gruesome. The second man, Chris, reached into his coat and pressed the barrel of a pistol to the other man's head. "Please, don't kill me, Chris. Chris, you can't."
"You should've thought about that before you started talking like you owned the goddamned world." With that, Chris pulled the trigger.
While James wanted to look away, it was one of those things where you just had to watch and see what happened. The power and the thrust of the bullet. He swore he felt blood spatter his forehead. He regretted it immediately and turned away feeling his gut churning. He'd always had a weak stomach.
James vomited once past his shoes and groaned, "Fuck." Paula held him by the shoulders, still scared stiff.
"Who's there?"
They both looked up.
"Who the hell is there?" they heard Chris start to approach, his boots colliding with the pavement.
Paula yanked on James' sleeve, "Come on!"
He shushed her quickly before ducking into the doorway, "We can't. We gotta wait." Paula ignored him though and bolted down the alley, revealing herself to the gunman.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Chris shouted after her and began to run, with his gun posed in front of his body. It wasn't long before Paula lost her concentration and balance in her tall stilettos and was forced to slow down. She was made an easy target. Tears were streaming down her face, ruining her makeup. Her desperate pleas to God were in vain.
Chris shot at her three times. Two hit her between her shoulder blades. She fell backward, frozen in time. James gasped, "Shit."
All he had wanted was a cigarette. This was way more than he expected.
The gunman stopped and scanned to see if anyone else was around. James clung to the door, hoping Chris would pass over him. The footsteps got closer and his breath became shallower. Chris walked past, leaving James to sigh in relief.
But he quickly returned, "I can hear you breathing." Chris started to reload the gun.
Watching with wide eyes, James sucked in his lower lip. He was desperate for a miracle. It seemed that Chris had gone out of sight again, but James knew better.
"Gotcha."
The man appeared from behind the wall. James screamed. The gun was in his face. So close to death, so much adrenaline. He reached out and pushed back, making the gun misfire. James threw a punch into the man's face and disoriented him for a few seconds, buying James time to run. He didn't get far before Chris grabbed onto James' mussed hair and pulled him back.
"I knew you looked familiar," he snarled and threw him on the ground. Chris stood over him and positioned his gun toward his head, "Maybe you'll get a lot of little girls standing outside with candles when they find out you're dead."
James was running out of time. The seconds passed by like years as he tried to figure out a way to get out of it. Unlike in the movies, his life didn't flash before his eyes. There wasn't time to think about that. He was focusing on keeping that life together. So he threw his leg up and kneed Chris in the groin.
They threw punches and kicks, felt bruises. The gun was left unprotected in his hand. James was able to hit the gun out of his opponents hand and escape.
Sprinting down the alley, James passed Paula's body and got a glimpse into her lifeless, brown eyes. He didn't have time to care, muttering, "Shit."
Chris gained his senses, spat some blood from his mouth, and aimed again.
The first shot missed, but the second lodged itself in James's right shoulder. He howled in pain, but didn't stop running until he heard the clicks of an empty gun and the criminal cursing.
"Don't think you're getting away this easy," Chris shouted after him, spit flying from his mouth. "I will find you. It'll be easy. And then I will kill you!"
He didn't know where to run, where to turn. There was no time to breathe or even move except for away. Just run away. A primordial instinct shook him, so he just ran. He thought it would be that easy, to run from him. But James Diamond had no idea how much longer he'd be running—and how his life had just changed forever.