My hair was damp sticking to my face. I let out a final moan as this man slid off me. I had done this sober, it was the first time I've ever gone home with a stranger. I had gone to a bar, pretended to be slightly drunk and gone home with the first and best offer. The guy next to me wanted to cuddle, wanted to sleep with me next to him. I couldn't do that, I wouldn't do that. I told him I had to go home, got dressed and did just that. When I had closed the door to my room I did the strangest thing. I rolled up my sleeve and bit my arm. It hurt, but it wasn't enough to make me bleed. I just needed the pain, so it wasn't a problem.

I would keep up this pattern. Sleeping with strangers, hurt myself, call Deidara begging him to take me back. I was dulling the pain with sex. It work somehow for a while, then I started showing. Nobody wanted to get involved with a pregnant woman. Sakura went with me to the hospital. I had rented a place close to them. They had been great; I had gotten close with Sakura. We had picked up where we had left our friendship so many years ago. She was like a mother to me in some way too. Not in a weird twisted mentally disturbed way. No, she just took care of me. She actually cared about me, not expecting anything in return. I gave her what I had been so afraid of giving to anyone since I got hurt, I gave her my trust.

I had been constantly sick since I had gotten pregnant. It was nothing like last time. I was throwing up several times, I was sensitive to smell, and I was constantly hungry. I ate often, scared senseless that I was going to become fat. Last time I had bounced back in a matter of months. Now I was bigger than I ever had been, I was expecting twins. The media had picked up. Posting anything they could find on me. Me walking home in the middle of the night or even morning often seemed like a good thing to write. Writing that I had no idea who the father was because I had been sleeping with every guy in Paris sold even more. I knew that it was Deidra's children. It was no doubt in my mind. Alexei and Anastasia. Call me a sucker for Russian history. On the list of people who called me to congratulate two names were missing, Jules and Deidara.

My solo album was released on the same day I gave birth. It was simply named Future. I have had it for ages; I just hadn't done anything with it. Jules had gotten a copy. He was the only one who had. He had also released his album. Unlike me he was really trying to make it. Advertising, performances on TV, commercials, a big ass tour. I had nothing, people didn't know I was releasing it; I had a music video for each of the twelve songs, made in a better time. It was what I had wanted. I had used all my money I had left after buying the house. Well, most of my money. The rest was Deidara's money. I called the bank and made them transfer it. I would have to make it, or break it. I could live off what I had for top six months.

I wish Deidara would contact me. It wasn't acutely a secret that I had been pregnant. I had been huge as a house and the press seemed to feed on my misery and failed life. I just wanted him to call; I wanted to know that he cared; he knew that he most likely had become a father again. It might be why he wasn't calling. Because I hadn't told him it was his children. Maybe he thought it was Jules who was the father. I wrote him a letter telling him. Saying I missed him, I missed Fabriola. How hard it was without them, I never sent that part. It would be too much; he hated me and didn't want me back. We were over, I had lost my daughter, and all I had for company was the twins for now.

The record sales went through the roof. I think people responded to the "I'm not going to force you to buy this CD, because I don't really care," attitude I was giving. I had money again. I was satisfied. I hired a nanny, a male one. I was somehow thinking it would make up for them not having a father. Pieré was his name, just as French as he sounds, dark hair and big nose. He wasn't ugly, but I wasn't interested in him. He was a fulltime living with me. I wondered what would make a man want to do this with his life. I didn't ask, we were friends but very formal. I didn't mind, he seemed to like it that way. He was so sweet when he wanted. He gave me what I wanted, the nights off.

I had been telling myself I wouldn't do this. That I would be strong, that I was done. I couldn't help it. I couldn't resist. Jules was in town, promoting his second solo album. I beat him to it by two weeks. He was playing in a small bar the first night. I was dressed for a masked ball. That's where I had been. I had started drinking. I had control; I just got drunk at nights. Every night. The sound of my shoes bounced off the wall as I ran. Heels high enough to stab through a human body. The feathers on my white and royal blue mask blew in the wind as I ran holding up my ankle long satin also royal blue dress. Outside I bought a drunk girls ticket for 150 euro. It was overpriced, but I was desperate.

I stood in the back. Bought a beer, I'd never grown to like it. I just drank it. I was watching him onstage. He was closing his eyes as he sang, he had dyed his hair. It was almost black now, he had gotten somewhat a tan, not the gray-yellow drugie color. He was smiling, he was enjoying himself. Hips moving ever so slowly to the music. He didn't move much on stage, he only walked. I checked if my hair was okay, I had to put some of it up. I was hoping the curls hadn't fallen out. I had put it up for the night; still it reached to the end of my shoulder blades. I dropped my hand when we locked eyes. It seemed like he was going to stop singing. He didn't, he missed a line. That was all. He must have convinced himself that it wasn't me, regained his cool, I was still wearing my mask and people started looking.

I walked over to the bartender. Pulled off my dress, I hadn't planned on being at the ball all night anyway. Underneath the dress I was wearing skinny black jeans, a black blonde sweater and a loose fitting black top with killer cleavage. The diamonds underneath my breasts were sparkling in the poorly lit up room. I asked the female bartender if she minded watching my dress, she could keep it if I didn't come pick it up. She figured it was worth it. It was a designer dress; I had no idea who had made it. I had gotten it mailed to me. I liked it and wore it. I had forgotten about my mask, it still in front of my eyes. I think people were too drunk to wonder why I had it. They just liked it. I hadn't noticed how drunk everybody was. It must have been late.

It was confirmed, he did two more songs, thanked everyone for showing up. Threw something in the crowd, I couldn't make out what, and walked off stage. I knew he was backstage. Made my way through the crowd that was heading for the exit. A few girls were pestering the doorman protecting the door leading backstage. Hoping Jules would walk out and fall in love with just them. I walked up to the doorman, told him who I was and needed to go backstage. He laughed; it wasn't the first time he had heard that this night. I pulled down my mask and I showed him my ID. He still wasn't sure. He called up someone on his walkie-talkie. He got an answer, nodded and let me in. I entered a hallway. It was empty, I walked a few steps. Found a room with his name on, knocked on it. Empty. Empty like the beer bottles in front of his mirror, so much for sober. We were the same, pretending to be something we're not.

I decided to follow the sound instead. Knocked on a door, opened it. I found him, sitting on a ruby red couch drinking something clear. He was with his band and a few others; the only familiar face was Shikamaru. He must be Jules manager now that the band was on a break, or maybe he was just there. "Who ordered the striper?" what seemed to be the drummer yelled out. I pulled down my mask again, not sure why I had put it back on. I was drunk I didn't need a reason, like I didn't have a single good reason for being there right now. "Shut up and leave, everybody." Jules voice was low and mellow. The drummer muttered something about it not being fun that Jules got all of the action. Shikamaru smiled and said hello as he walked past me. Some of the others didn't even want to look at me; the rest eyed me up judging. I was told to close the door behind me. Jules seemed to be in a foul mood.

I was put back; I was so sure he was going to be happy to see me. That he had expected me and welcomed me with open arms. It was far from the case. This wasn't the plan. I looked around the room, the walls were red matching the couch, but one of them a creamy yellow. A plant was in the corner and on the walls faces of celebrities to have come by hung. Jules would soon be up there with them. I walked in front of him and sat down on the low coffee table. "What do you want?" he spat. A tear rolled down my face. His hard, drunk eyes warmed up. The tension was enough to kill; I held my hand over my heart. Crying loudly, he grabbed it. Tried to look me in the eyes. "I should have known you would come, this is your domain." I had to laugh. Sounded like Paris was mine and he had trespassed. "I needed to see a face I knew." He let go of my hand and leaned back. "How's life been treating you?" I snorted. "Like a baby bird. Everything good in my life has been chewed up and spat at me." He nodded. "How has it…? How have you… How's New York?" I rambled. He laughed. I was cracking. He had the upper hand. I felt left out and rejected. Like I wasn't good enough for him anymore. That's what the look he was giving told me.

It felt like my stomach was traveling up my throat being stopped by the desperate need to cry. I felt horrible, I just want to run, but then I look into his eyes. Then I'm pulled in and madly in love. I move, place my legs on each side of him. Grab his leather jacket. Pull him close, kiss him. He had been onstage, he was sweaty and dirty. I didn't mind, it made me think of the old days. I took off my black opera gloves and giggled. "I couldn't keep away, I had to see you." He smiles, our lips meet again. Never have I felt as lonely as I did in his lap right there and then. I wondered what I meant to him, what I meant to the world, would I be missed, no. I could just wander out in eternity without anybody noticing. I kiss his neck, trying to hide my face. I was shaking; he took it for something else. His hands slid under my sweater. Off my body it went.

I decided to give him what he wanted, as a desperate attempt to recreate the happier, but still shitty past. I pushed my hips against his groin, making friction. His hands going up and down my back pulled me closer now. He was ready, he knew what he wanted, knew what I was offering him. My bra fell off, the air was cold. Wet, sloppy drunken kisses everywhere, anywhere made it worse. I let out a moan, he grunted. I was still moving my hips. I pulled off his jacket, then shirt, skin against skin. I rested my forehead against his and looked him into his eyes. Desire, need, burning with lust is what I'd like to describe what I saw this time. I kissed him, he kissed back with force. He tried to open my pants, we were too close. I had to move back. My hair fell down my naked upper body, my lip-gloss all over him. He didn't pay attention; he wanted what was in my pants.

The drummer opened the door without warning. I was topless and facing the door. I screamed and tried to cover up. Jules didn't care; he just pushed me down on the couch. Wanted to get my pants off. "Shika wants to know if you're going to be long." Jules rolled his eyes. "It's not going to be too long, just need to be done here first." He was used to this. I wasn't the first girl to throw myself at him. I was just the first and best thing that came along. I didn't mean anything to him. What we were doing was just sex to him, our past didn't matter. I kicked him off and put on my top. That wasn't happening. "Ino, he's leaving. See? Get back here." Jules gave him a look of poison. He was out the door. "No! Because I don't mean anything to you! I'm just something you can shove your cock in!" Bad move, I touch the bulge in his pants. Why did I do that? "Which is overrated by the way, sex with you has never been good. It's just out and in!" He pulls me close. "Yes, I do sleep with a lot of girls. I can't even name two of their names. Only you, only you baby."

With those words he's granted permission to kiss me, nibble on my bottom lip, make me short of breath just by kissing. "Fuck you," I muttered. I wanted to walk out. I wanted to leave him. Most of all I wanted more to drink, wanted him. I picked up his glass, water. I smiled and put it down. Went over to the mini fridge. "Would you mind?" I pulled out a bottle of vodka. He didn't. He didn't say anything about me drinking. What if he hadn't been drinking? What if he wasn't the one who had finished off all those beer bottles?

I walked over and looked at him. His eyes were tired, gray and baggy. He looked sick. "Let's go home to my place," I grabbed his hand. He led us to the backdoor. There was a car waiting for him there. We got in, I gave directions. Jules leaned on my shoulder. No longer the cold insensitive man, but a scared kitten clinging to me. He didn't tell anyone where he was going, maybe he should have. I sent Shikamaru a text, hoped he hadn't changed his number. Said I was taking Jules to my place. He seemed pretty fucked up, if I needed to be worried and when he needed to be back. The response was simple; drugs, have him back at the hotel before six. Nothing about if I needed to worry. I pulled up his sleeves. Needle marks, red stars on the white sky.

I didn't feel comfortable doing this anymore. He didn't say anything, didn't care what I had seen. He just kissed me, his way of telling me it would all be fine. I didn't need to worry, but I did. We arrived. I thanked the driver and gave him whatever cash I had in my pocket, could have been a lot, and could have been close to nothing. I had to pull Jules with me. He didn't want to go out in the cold autumn air. He had to. I unlocked the door. The car drove away. Jules looked like he was about to die. I told him to be quiet. Didn't want the twins waking up. He begged me to see them. I didn't know if it was a good idea. I still led him to their room. Jules smiled brightly. "They're like just the same." He laughed and kissed me. Anastasia woke up. She didn't cry, she just lay there and kicked around. She reached out her arm, Jules poked it, she grabbed his finger. The smile on his face was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. "Wish we had a child together."