10 Bert.

I closed my eyes.

Everything disappeared and was replaced by complete darkness. Outside and inside of me. I focused very hard and pictured a chair. In the middle of the darkness, lit up by some kind of spotlight.

I placed one foot on top of the chair and pulled myself up. I turned to face the front of the chair and adjusted my feet to make sure I held my balance. Once I was firmly standing on the chair, I reached in front of me for the rope. It was right there. I passed it around my neck. There was so fear, no hesitation—that was the whole point. I bent my knees and jumped as high and far in front of me as I could.

I opened my eyes. Immediately, the yelling of the crowd came back to me, so did the loud music and the bright spotlights. I stopped day-dreaming and flipped over at the last moment to be caught face-up by twenty sweaty hands. I smiled.

No, I had not hung myself, not just yet. For now, I was on the right track again, so suicide was once again off my to-do list. But day-dreaming about it had actually given me the courage to jump headfirst into the crowd—because killing myself seemed much easier to me than performing a common stage stunt. Yeah, I was weird enough for anything.

I supposed I had surprised everyone—including myself—and especially Branden who had bet that I wouldn't have the guts to do it. Of course, he underestimated the power of my imagination. Ha.

The crowd sure seemed to like it. And I couldn't lie, even if it was pretty painful and only lasted a few seconds, being carried around by dozens of people at once was really fun. Yet another reason to live…

I waited for the crowd to put me back on the ground—or more like drop me to the ground—before getting up and running back to the stage for one last ovation. I had managed to sing through ten songs, and honestly I had had enough. I think my painful throat agreed. I just wasn't experienced enough for that much shouting… But still, I had actually sung all the songs I'd learned by now, and judging by Quinn's expression, it was already pretty good.

As soon as I'd gotten back on the stage—luckily, all the people blocking it moved to let me through, hallelujah—he came up to me and gave me a joyful tap on the shoulder. "Dude, you rock!" he praised happily. More than happily… he seemed almost euphoric. Huh, he was probably high.

And to think of all the shit I had to go through just so he and his band wouldn't kick me out. First, when we were still in the laundry room, Quinn had decided that it was better for him and everyone else that I left—the town, the country and the planet. Fucking selfish. But whatever, he was probably right.

Except that afterwards, when he told Branden and Ashton, they both freaked and accused him of taking decisions by himself without talking to them and blah, blah—all of that with me standing right there staring at them. And as if that wasn't enough, Rachel had then called Quinn and when he'd told her what he had decided—because of course, she wouldn't leave him alone until he did—she had added up to it by yelling at him stuff I didn't even wanna know. So, in the end, Quinn had no choice but to live with it—with me. Poor guy.

But hey, he didn't look so bummed right now.

Quinn.

Holy mother of God. And once again, I had been wrong. Or… maybe not wrong, because my arguments still stood—Bert was still an irresponsible junkie who could run off again at any moment and leave us stranded—but he could sure sing.

No, more than that, he could connect to the crowd and entertain them! It was a strange phenomenon, actually, the way he transformed when he was on stage. He ceased to be that cynical asshole and became a really friendly and fun guy who could talk to people and get his message across. He became Mr. Hyde, like an alter ego or something, but in a good way.

I had witnessed that three times already, because this was his third show. It was also the longest show he'd done—and, to be quite honest, one of the longest we'd done too. Not that we hadn't had the resources, but with Jepha, it just wasn't the same. He couldn't do that so well, that connection thing, and people usually forgot we were there and moved on, or else we were attacked by groupies, or drunks, or drunk groupies, and that usually ended it.

Don't get me wrong, Jepha was an awesome guy, outside of the stage, but he just wasn't good with talking to crowds. Too shy or something. And Bert was a pro. Like he'd done it for a lifetime.

But of course, I knew that, after all, it was only his third show.

And despite my happiness in front of our success with him, I was getting more and more worried. Because Jeph would come back soon—hopefully—and then what? We would have to choose between success and our best friend.

And I was so scared I would make the wrong decision again.

Bert.

"We. Are. Dumb Luck!" I yelled into the microphone with whatever voice I had left. Immediately, everyone responded with their screaming and clapping.

It was incredible. I felt so… important. And loved. I had never felt like that before, even when I was still living with my family, I had never felt so appreciated. So looked up to. And hell, I hadn't won the Nobel Peace Prize; all I'd done was sing a bunch of songs in a bar.

"Thank you guys! You guys are awesome!" No, it didn't take an inspiring speech to get everyone worked up over me again. It was just so easy… It was so beautiful that I felt almost as if I was in a different dimension. One where doing something you loved was good for you and actually got people to like you, not look down on you and call you a stupid junkie—with good reason. One where I was in the middle of everything, and not in the corner of an alley. One where I didn't have to feel ashamed, or scared. I didn't understand how normal people could be afraid of stages or speaking in public… I wanted to stay there forever.

"C'mon, Bert! Let's go!"

Aw… already? I looked towards where the voice had come from. Branden was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the stage, looking up at me expectantly. Behind him, Quinn was watching patiently with a sort of fondness in his eyes and an understanding smile. He knew I couldn't get enough of the glory. But Branden was right, it was over now, I had to move on. Oh well, there was always next time.

I glanced one last time at the thinning crowd and waved goodbye before following my new bandmates. Pretty soon, everyone had gone back to their occupations—or had left—and it was as if nothing had happened.

"Guys, that was fucking awesome!" Ashton shouted, giving the three of us a friendly hug.

"Hey Quinn, you didn't mess up the solo this time!" Branden laughed.

"It was about time," Quinn replied happily. "You did good too, Branden… most of the time. Though at some point I was pretty sure you spotted a size ten and slowed down a bit." All three of them burst out laughing. "Oh, and by the way," Quinn continued, "I think you owe me ten bucks…" He smiled at me, presenting Branden his open hand.

Branden groaned and muttered that he didn't have any money on him. "Seriously Quinn, I hate you."

"Aw, don't worry Quinn," Ashton said, "I still love you…"

"Shit," Quinn said, sending everyone laughing again. Except me.

I just smiled and watched them in silence. They seemed so… connected, like they all thought the same way and laughed at the same jokes and loved the same things. Which was the case, actually, they really were connected. Like brothers. I would never have that.

I had to face the truth, all this would be over soon. Whether I liked it or not, Jeph would be back very soon and I would have to give him back his spot. But I guess it was OK, it was the right order of things… Then again…

And then, right then, in the middle of that thought, I saw her. That same shiny straight blond hair, those same big gray eyes surrounded by violet circles—resulting from drugs and lack of sleep—and too much makeup. That same lost gaze… My brain shut down for a moment as I stared at her with my mouth hanging open.

But no. She isn't real, I realised. She was just another illusion, just another hallucination. I shut my eyes and shook my head as if to shake her away. I couldn't let her drive me crazy again. If I started thinking about her, I would surely lose it.

But most of all, I knew that if I started seeing her, I would also start to see him. He would come back for me again, he would rip me away from my new life, from my new happiness, just like he had the first time. And I didn't want him to do that. Please, not again.

"Bert? You alright?"

I opened my eyes quickly. The three guys stared at me with concerned expressions.

"Uh, yeah… I'm fine," I muttered. They didn't seem very convinced. "I just… thought I saw someone… nevermind."

"Someone?" Quinn insisted.

"Just forget it!" I had said that just a little too loud. But I didn't have time to think about it. Right there, behind them, just a few yards away, she was still there…

So real. Hallucinations were never that authentic. Unless I had developed a supernatural imagination—even better than the one I had—she really was real. But… that couldn't be.

No, it was impossible. She was dead, he had killed her, I was sure that—

But wait a minute. I wasn't sure about anything. Somehow, through all my lunacy and my pessimism, I had managed to convince myself that she really was dead, but in fact that was only a possibility—the worst case scenario. And if I believed my eyes in that moment, I knew that it hadn't happened.

Suddenly, I felt the terrible urge to run to her. To touch her again, to hear her beautiful voice… My legs responded immediately and I ran past Quinn, Branden and Ashton—and a few other people too—until I was close enough that I could almost touch her.

But then a giant brute appeared in front of me out of nowhere. I barely managed to stop myself before running into him. The guy must've been at least seven feet tall, and was covered in tattoos all the way to his ugly bald head. I could almost see him on a Harley Davidson with a leather jacket and a bag of cocaine—yeah, I'd seen a bunch like him before.

But when he turned and I could see his face, I was struck by the fact that he wasn't just any old drug dealer. He was… no. It couldn't be. I felt my heartbeat accelerate at a dangerous speed, sweat covering my palms. I took a shaky step back, praying that he wouldn't notice me. All I could think was, No. Not this.

It was him. I knew it. I could almost feel his horrible presence. Was he real? Sure seemed like it. And he was approaching her. My beautiful angel… I couldn't let him hurt her. But I couldn't move. I was paralysed by the fear and the shock, and still confused. There was still a part of me that wasn't certain he was real, and if he wasn't, then she couldn't be either.

As I watched, petrified, he put his huge disgusting arm around her small shoulders casually, like she was his girlfriend of something. But by the way she reacted—flinching away and trying vainly to hide her disgust—it was clear that she had no pleasure being with him. I was suddenly scared that she had gone back to the way she was before I'd met her. Some fucker's sex slave, only for his money, because he kept her alive…

"That's some sexy ass you got there," he told her then, lowering his arm. "Any chance I could see it without those shorts on there?"

And that's when I realised that it was different from what I'd thought. She didn't know him. But she didn't try to get away…

Of course. He was her potential client. I should've known.

But didn't she recognize him? Didn't she realize that it was him, the brute who had torn us apart? How could she let him even approach her? She was so helpless. I had to do something…

"Hey, leave her the fuck alone," someone suddenly ordered. It took me a second to realise that it had been me.

He slowly turned to face me. "You got a problem?"

I didn't know what to say. I stared up at him with my mouth hanging open stupidly, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now. He would kill me, for sure. He would kill us both. I noticed that several people around us had interrupted their conversations to watch the show, and their interest annoyed me all of a sudden.

"Leave him alone, fuckhead," the most beautiful voice in the world ordered then. She immerged from behind the biker like an angel, almost glowing.

"Aw c'mon, sweetheart…" the brute tried. She ignored him and took my hand. Then she smiled the sweetest smile and pulled me away from him, away from the bar, away from the world. Time stood still as she flew through the room, hauling me behind her.

Suddenly, she stopped to face me. An expression of great happiness mixed with deep sadness covered her face. It was as if she wasn't sure if she should laugh or cry. Judging by the way I felt in that moment, I suppose I looked the same.

Just as suddenly, she threw her arms around me and squeezed me until I couldn't breathe anymore. But I wanted her to squeeze harder.

Instead she loosened her arms a little to whisper "Nice show," in my ear as casually as she could, probably to break the silence. "But you made me lose my precious client…" she added with the most obvious sarcasm. I was too overwhelmed to answer. I just stood there with my arms wrapped around her, wondering if I was dreaming.

"Kate…" I finally whispered.

Out of nowhere, like she'd snapped out of some sort of trance, she pulled back and slapped me right across the face. "That's for disappearing!"

I took a second to understand what had just happened to me. Then I smiled again. "That was the best slap I ever got."

She chuckled. So perfectly. Gosh, she was so beautiful. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know it's my fault really, because instead of looking for you after our fight, I went straight back to Orem without giving you a clue as to where I could be… It was stupid of me not to tell you."

I went straight back to Orem.

Oh my. Why hadn't I thought of that? "Of course! That's why you were nowhere in Salt Lake… You were in Orem." I chuckled at the simplicity of the situation, and at myself for not having figured it out. "It's kind of funny 'cause I looked everywhere for you, except in the place where you most likely were."

She pressed her white lips together. "It's not your fault…" Then, she smiled again and took both my hands in hers. "I missed you so much, Bert."

I nodded. "Me too…" But I had done more than just miss her. "I'm so glad to know you're OK… I mean…" I looked down. "I thought I'd lost you."

Her smile faded. "Lost me? What do you mean?" Suddenly, comprehension replaced the confusion in her expression. "Oh, no… Were you scared I had overdosed…?" Her question was only a whisper, full of shame.

But I only frowned in confusion. "What? No! I didn't… I wasn't scared you'd overdosed, I mean, I know you would be careful enough…" I snickered unsurely. I hadn't even thought of that. "No, I meant, I was scared that… he had gotten you." I glanced back towards the place we'd abandoned him, but he was gone.

This time, in was her turn to frown in confusion. "Who?"

I had to admit, "he" wasn't a very specific term. "Well, you know, the guy we just ditched, thankfully in one piece… who kicked us out of the apartment in Salt Lake…" She still seemed confused so I continued, "who was also the brother of the old dealer who used to… have you. Before I killed him."

Her eyes widened in shock. "You killed someone!"

"Well, yeah, I mean… you were there! When I stabbed the old guy! Don't you remember?" I was starting to feel a little annoyed.

She just shook her head slowly. "I remember when you stabbed the old motherfucker… in the leg! He didn't die! Though I wish he had."

I stared at her. He didn't… die? But… that was impossible! "But I… I killed him," I repeated helplessly, confused. "Because if I didn't kill him, why does his brother want revenge? Why does he want with me?"

"What brother? That guy doesn't have a brother, to my knowledge."

"Yes, he does! I told you, it's the guy we just saw! The same guy who came after us later, who kicked us out of the apartment we'd rented, remember? The same guy I stole some crack from later, which was incredibly stupid of me… but you weren't there by then so you wouldn't remember."

For a second she hesitated, as if she didn't know what to say or how to say it. She looked like she pitied me for some reason—but everyone pitied me these days. "Bert…" she started, "that guy at the bar… I've never seen him before. We were kicked out of our apartment because we had run out of money… by the landlord. Or should I say the landlady! Yeah, it was a woman, remember? We even joked about her afterwards, 'cause she had some pounds to lose there… you know, before our fight. Don't you remember?"

I shook my head. She wasn't making any sense. "That's impossible…"

"And Bert," she continued, "you didn't kill anyone! That guy you think you killed, Orem's famous old drug-dealer, he's fine. Actually he's better than ever; drugs are practically more popular than pets these days… And he doesn't have a fucking brother! And if he does, he sure as hell didn't come for us in Salt Lake City." She sighed. "I guess… I guess you must've imagined it all."