Consequences

by NotAContrivance

Rocks are turning to sand, hearts are changing hands... Jude's all caught up in a reality show, everyone else's business, and this thing with her and Tom, whatever that is... And then there's Travis to muck it all up. Can you handle the consequences?

37. I've Done It Wrong Again

Okay, I'm the first to admit this chapter's strange. It should sound strange, because the majority of it is Jude actually telling someone (other than you, the reader) the story. So most of it is literally Jude dictating. As the person she's telling it to is rather a stranger, Jude tends to lie to her about such vital things as her feelings for Tommy, so there's some of that awkwardness. Actually, this chapter also gets a little crossover-y, but just barely. If you squint and get the reference, then you'll understand. If you don't, then you won't. If people like it, I'll finish Jude's story in the next chapter.

Oh, and the single Jude mentions towards the end is called "Don't Tell Me What to Do", and it's sung by Kate Todd.

Oh, and I totally didn't mean to make Ruby so evil at first, but really, the other characters are waaay worse. Especially Tommy. You guys are gonna hate him more than Travis by the time this chapter's over. That's a promise. But don't worry. Next chapter's gonna be pretty dramatic too, but oh well. And maybe then you'll like him a little bit more?

Honestly, I myself am really tired and this chapter's so long, so I'll keep it brief...

One last thing...

This chapter is dedicated to a beautiful friendship and the hope that it still might be repaired.

Any and all reviews are appreciated.

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"You wouldn't believe it... or maybe you would... I had the craziest day today," I began excitedly. It was refreshing to tell all my secrets... or at least what I couldn't tell the important people... to a complete stranger. A stranger who would soon become a friend. Knowing enough about a person does that. I felt so much lighter telling somebody.

"Oh, sure, you raise an eyebrow and don't believe me, but you'll see.

Anyways, it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas. It, as you well know, is the first week of December, so the bombardment has commenced. Christmas images everywhere, which translates to publicity stunts and charity work as well as autograph signings for us famous people. It's nowhere near as glamorous as it sounds, waiting for hours in some mall for so long that your ass gets sore only to have a group of old women come to protest against your presence. Seriously, they did that to me! They had fliers and signs, even a catchy chant... and fresh recruits. Damn near had pitchforks and tar too. Like I said, you don't go somewhere to do charity work expecting to have a coven of cackling biddies denouncing you as a whore. And, of course, I couldn't even kick anyone's ass. Not even just a little.

No wonder I have aggression issues. Blame all the pent-up rage. However, since it's Christmas, my "tough girl" image needed to be toned down... apparently a lot. Tough is bad at Christmas time, and apparently Nice Girls sell hit records. Whores do too, of course, but they don't want to market me as a whore when I'm really not one. I mean, we live in a world where Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan can move units, but decent indie bands can't. What is the world coming to?

Seriously, though, E.J., my P.R. spin-doctor, did polls on my rep. The populace is torn between thinking I'm the biggest slut in the province, maybe the country- Hey, Canada's not that big, you know! Less than 40 million live here. Tokyo and its immediate suburbs contain approximately the same amount of people if not more. And the rest think I'm a tough cookie to crack and don't want to mess with me. On the bright side, though, everyone thinks I could kick Avril Lavigne's ass with one hand tied behind my back. If only they knew how vulnerable I really am. This whole tough thing's really just one giant front to get everyone off my back.

And softening up my "hard" exterior means lots of community service, charity balls, autograph signing, taking pictures with fans, kissing babies, and even... apologies. I don't mind helping the community. It's fun going to elementary schools and teaching music lessons. It's fun cleaning up parks, and I'll even go down to a not-so-nice neighborhood on my own. Although this is Canada, not the States. We leave our front door unlocked half the time, and I'm never afraid anyone's going to shoot me. And, okay, so Tommy went down with me to the impoverished area 'cause he likes to think he's street. But I don't need a male protector, hence the "tough" rep. Just because I'm not always hanging on some guy, they think I'm hard-boiled. Idiots. That being said, I have been taking self-defense classes in my spare time. I'm not going to let any man have power over me. Not like Tommy... and I won't let what almost happened with Travis actually... happen.

I'm just giving you more questions than answers, aren't I? Of course you don't know about all the intimacies of my private life, and you don't need to know in this synopsis, but I'll probably tell you someday. Maybe not about that Travis thing though... or who Travis is, although that's just about to come into play and... yeah.

Back to my original point, as I seem to be digressing far too frequently... The autograph signing and pictures are tedious, but it's nice to have fans and do right by them. You have no idea how nice it is to have people in your corner when everyone thinks you're a nasty slut. The charity balls are... unpleasant. They're expensive, always require a new dress, and, frankly, rather pointless. But they help me in the "girly" category, yet another one of those categories where I am sorely lacking. I'm a tomboy, and you get that, don't you? Girly girls aren't rockers. So, naturally, I detest those charity balls. I feel like some lame debutante with the painted-on fake smile, which reminds me of my awful sixteenth birthday. Plus the food always sucks, and I never get to dance. I'm way too klutzy to dance, though. Seriously, do you have any idea how many of those I've gone to in the past week? At least one a night, with three each on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Wear uncomfortable clothing, stay a couple hours, mingle, play ball, cough up dough, smile for the cameras, dance with some random old guy out of pity, trying to pretend he didn't just try to grab my ass. To make matters worse, Darius (who is sponsoring at least half of these parties) has me practically glued to Tommy's arm at every one of these benefits.

That, my friend, is painful. I can't even have a decent conversation with him. There's so much tension you could cut it with a butter knife, but the cameras are none-the-wiser.

It's worse, though, when they get creative. For instance, a while ago I socked my music teacher. A week ago or maybe more. To eliminate that black mark from my record- despite the fact that it was a merited punch, and he was a perverted pedophile who had attempted to rape me- they made me go back and apologize. Stupid move. Oh, right. Well, there, now I guess you know about that. Sorry, I just have this tendency to blurt things out. My music teacher... His name's Travis, by the way. That's what I was talking about a little while ago. So The Man made me go back to school (I was suspended, but an apology would get me off leave and back into the classroom) and apologize to him today. That completely sucked of course, but I'll get to that vortex of suckage later.

After all, my day did not start with that. It started with me waking up to the infernal sound of my boyfriend's ringtone. Yeah. Taylor's kind of my boyfriend. Loosely. It's this really annoying song by one of those lame emo-esque bands that have punk pretensions. Drives me up the wall, but I can't say that since my musical taste is more similar to his brother's. My taste in music is also good, unlike that of my darling Taylor, who enjoys both emo and gangsta rap. Honestly, I can't believe I ever dated a rapper! Whenever I mention how some demeaning rap song, if indeed you can call it that, objectifies women, Taylor always brings up Shay. And then I start humming "Pick Up the Pieces" because I know it pisses him off (fingers plugging my ears, belting it loudly enough to drown out even his shouts). And it annoys him even more that I know all the words. Hell, though, it annoys me that I know the words. Damn obsessive sister of mine.

So, naturally, I jumped up and snapped the phone open because I didn't want to listen to that crap. Maybe I could just go to sleep afterward, I thought like an idiot. I was horribly wrong. Unfortunately, things had gotten more serious with Taylor. It wasn't as much of a lie as it was when I'd told his brother that. Oh, yeah. Tommy and Taylor are brothers. Now, Taylor usually called me at least once a day. Unfortunately, that time was usually in the mornings, just before filming. We've been going out a lot lately... pretty much whenever he has free time, and my free time coincides with his. Taylor, however, doesn't know me well enough to realize how much I detest mornings. So he calls like a fool with a death wish. "Hey, Jude," Taylor chimed cheerfully.

I wanted to slug him, really, I did. He made me open my eyes and grope for the phone to shut off the lame-o emo crap for that lame greeting? Tommy says it never gets old, but with Taylor... It gets old fast. I bit my tongue and avoided telling Taylor to get bent. I mean, I really do like him and all... kinda. He's growing on me, a little like athlete's foot or another type of fungus. "Taylor, what have I said about waking me up before the crack of..." Here I paused to squint at my clock. It was 7:30. What the Hell? Seven-thirty? Did he want me to murder him? At that point, I was pissed enough that I very well could've driven all the way to Montreal, interrupted his filming, and done it. "7:30!"

Taylor sighed impatiently. Sometimes... okay, a lot of the times... I felt like he didn't really listen to me. Ever. Taylor's kind of inconsiderate, actually. And a lot of the times he doesn't believe me when I tell him things. It's not entirely a healthy relationship, but what is nowadays? "It's important, Jude," He stated brusquely, impatiently. Typical American. "Besides," He continued insistently, being a bit too whiny for my liking, "You know that filming starts at eight. This is the only time we have to talk." I wanted to point out that that was actually a lie. We both had lunch breaks, after all. And dinner. And there was always voice-mail, email, instant message, letters. Taylor's just not that original. Plus, what does he do at night? He doesn't really expect me to believe that he just goes home and sleeps afterwards, or that they keep him up all night, does he? But I've learned that with Taylor, it is necessary to pick and choose one's battles.

And, unlike Taylor, I wasn't going to get mad over some trivial little thing like him waking me up at the crack of dawn or me going to charity balls with his brother. It's not like I even want to be there. Taylor thinks virtually any contact with his brother will send me running into his arms, or that it means that I'm secretly screwing Tommy behind his back. And, despite the fact that everyone in Canada thinks that's true; I've never actually had sex with Tommy. I can tell Taylor doesn't believe that, though. He doesn't trust me, definitely not around Tommy. So I merely took a deep breath and asked, "What is it, Tay-Tay?" The diminutive came off my lips mockingly, but I didn't sound at all short with him.

Taylor hates to be called that. It's the embarrassing family nickname for him, and he resents that I know it because his older brother told me. He resents that I know his family so well through his brother. Although he shouldn't. Tommy's the reason we met and are going out. If anything, he should thank his brother. I wish he'd understand that we all have embarrassing nicknames. Shay, for instance, called me Shorty and Ju-Ju. Tommy calls me girl. My cousin calls me Judy. My grandparents call me Judith, even though that is not my name. It's just Jude. Sadie called me Judd, which I stopped really minding after I saw The Breakfast Club. That and Judas. And Jude-ass. Jamie called me J.J. See? I heard him lick his lips over the phone, clearing his throat.

That means that he's nervous, which means he's going to ask me something. Taylor is inexperienced with girls. Incredibly so. He can't even ask a girl out without choking and stuttering the words. Really, you'd think an actor would stutter much less. I even asked Tommy if he had a disorder, but Tommy said no, Taylor's just nervous. He thinks I'm intimidating! Ha! I figured that Taylor was just going to ask me out, which irked me because he could've waited or left a message. I was rather wrong. "Um... Well... C-christmas is coming up..." Taylor began promisingly. I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. Christmas party, maybe?

"Yeah..." I said patiently, waiting for him to say more.

Taylor coughed. He sounded more anxious than he had ever sounded before. That's saying quite a bit. I no longer found his awkwardness that cute, let me tell you. "And I was t-thinking that... that maybe you w-w-would li-ike to, uh..." He trailed off once more. Inept lover, that's what he is. In every sense of the word. Bad kisser, bad romancer, super-jealous. Which is why I'm kind of also sorta hanging out with my guitarist, Speed, a lot. Speed's sweet, and he knows what I like. We have the same taste in music, and we get along really well. Plus he really likes me, and he totally rescued me from this total creep. We have fun together. And, okay, he's a pretty good kisser, for a high school boy, anyways. I don't normally date them, you see. On paper, Speed would be my type... especially if we were living in a world where my Svengali-like producer didn't exist. He would be just about perfect except for his inability to take much of anything seriously and some vaguely brother-like vibes I get from him. You know, if we weren't friends, I'd feel like such a player, kinda dating two guys at once. Sad thing is that Speed's the more serious one. And I like him better. Oy.

Taylor attempted, of course, to continue. He failed miserably, and I couldn't even understand a word of his rambling. Since I'm a pretty blunt, frank person who likes to get down to the nitty-gritty details, I decided to interrupt this strange invitation with a quick interjection. Back to basics and all. "Get to the point, Taylor!" I snapped irritably, longing to get back to my rest. Taylor sighed frustratedly, but I just rolled my eyes.

He took a deep breath. "Well, every year my family spends Christmas vacation at our family home in Montreal. And it's usually so boring because Mom and Tommy are either at each others' throats or my, uh, other brother's there, and then no one really notices me. There's always a bunch of people there I don't know, and last year my oldest brother canceled, so Tommy was there... And he was no fun to be around. He completely brought the holiday down for me. All he did was mope, brood, avoid us, and hog the confessional... I thought it would be really cool if you would come stay with us for the holidays," Taylor explained excitedly. I felt half like I'd been punched in the gut. From shock, of course. There was a long silence. "So, what do you think?" Taylor asked anxiously.

"Um..."

For starters, I was trying to wrap my brain around the fact that he'd mentioned, albeit briefly, the older brother Tommy had forbidden people to speak of- twice. And then, suddenly, I remembered with a start the events of last year around this time. It occurred to me that Tommy might've been so depressed because of what didn't happen... never happened, really... between us, but that was unbelievable to me. That I was the reason. Yeah right. I was also more than a little surprised that a guy I'd known for maybe two weeks had invited me to his house for Christmas.

But more than all that, I wasn't thinking about whether or not I wanted to go. Because I did. Obviously Tommy was going to be there, but it was a safe environment because his mother would be there too and all. Even though he was off-limits, I was still thinking of it. Can't help it.

"I'm speechless, Taylor." Really, I was. Still am. I'd known him for, what, two weeks?

Actually, I was thinking that I'd kind of already R.S.V.P.'d. With Tommy first because he'd asked first.

Tommy had asked me like two weeks ago, right after his birthday party. Okay, so I hadn't R.S.V.P.'d exactly, but I'd promised to come (several times), and that was just as good as confirmation. So I was trying to figure out how exactly I could get out of that. He couldn't know Tommy had asked first, after all. I bit my lip hard, wracking my brain to think of something to say. "I think... I think... I'll have to ask my parents first!" I exclaimed. Yes, that was good. And a lie.

I'd already asked my parents. The day after Tommy's birthday. I asked them if I could please spend the holidays with Tommy's family in Montreal, and they actually said yes. I barely had to convince them or anything. Besides, they wanted to go on a romantic retreat to get their relationship back on track anyways, so they were only too happy to be rid of me. All I had to do was tell them that Tommy's mom would be there. She is the anti-aphrodisiac, so of course she'd keep her sons from getting laid, especially Tommy. She's just malicious like that. They assumed that meant the invitation was extended to Sadie too, but it wasn't. She didn't even know unless Tommy had asked her separately, and from what I gathered, he hadn't.

There was a rather awkward silence, so I felt compelled to fill it with an explanation. "My dad's super-protective, and they've been really worried about me lately. Especially since I fainted at that concert," I elucidated anxiously. I paused for a moment to catch my breath. I'd been talking really fast there. Maybe that was a little obvious?

"You fainted at a concert? When did this happen? I didn't know you had a concert!" Taylor interjected brightly, confused as all get out. Uh, oops. How did he miss that? I could've sworn it was in the tabloids, and they're like Taylor's Bible. Plus I couldn't exactly say that it was the day his big brother and my big sister got engaged. It was sort of forgotten in my mind except for that glaring detail.

"Oh, last week... It was nothing," I muttered distractedly, trying to write it off. "Besides, I'm kind of dating you. And... and... You're Tommy's brother," I continued nervously, lamely. Yeah, shouldn't have said that. That was THE wrong thing to say. It's that little jealousy problem he has. I tried to backtrack immediately, but that only made things worse. "It's just... They don't exactly trust him, and you only share like half his chromosomes or something... And maybe they'll think you two are a little too alike and..." See how my rambling just dug me into a deeper hole?

Taylor was stonily silent for a while, a very long while. "And why is that, Jude?" He questioned icily. I knew exactly what he was going to say. He was gonna give me another guilt trip about Tommy, but I could do nothing to stop it. "Maybe it's because you jumped into bed with him and then filmed it," He growled. See? Ouch! I kind of gulped after that 'cause, well, he had me there. I couldn't argue with that.

So I did one better. Hey, I was pissed off! The man had insulted my chastity. He was always doing that; honestly, he made me feel like more of a slut than Tommy, Sadie, and both of our mothers put together. Except maybe that first one. "Wow. So that's your way of trying to convince me to stay with you. Wow. You know, you could learn a thing or two from those brothers of yours, as much as you'd hate to admit it. After all, Tommy got me in his bed.You barely even got first base," I pointed out irately. I could've given him my rating of his kissing technique (negative 20), but that would've been overkill. And then I just hung up so he couldn't insult me anymore.

Technically, so you don't go thinking I'm really the slut everyone thinks I am, because I cannot stress this enough, I haven't... you know. I've just slept in Tommy's bed, and maybe he's been with me in the bed, but nothing happened. Trust me, if something happened, I would be unable to shut up about it. Anyways, so after that I pretty much collapsed back into my bed. I didn't really want to dwell on the crappy conversation. Some boyfriend he was. I was hoping to go back to sleep, but as is so often the case, my brilliant plans were thwarted. The phone rang again. It was scarcely eight. What's wrong with these people?

Grumbling to myself, I got up, cursing myself for not just turning the damn thing off. The ring tone was one of my own songs, so I figured it was the label. What could they have to talk to me about so early in the morning, and why now? They knew me well enough to know that I never got up at that time, even when I did go to the studio. "What the crap do you want?" I snarled a bit too venomously for a convo with record execs. I'm not the type to pull a diva-fit, but I'd already dealt with my overprotective emotional boy-toy. I didn't want to think of any more T-names. There are far too many in my love life. How unfortunate and unlucky, considering what happened later.

It was E.J. I generally don't like to cross E.J. because she's kind of evil and has a second-degree black-belt or something. "Jude, cut the diva act. Christmas is coming up, and frankly, you're looking like a public relations nightmare right now. We need to restore your good girl rep, Jude," E.J. stated concisely. I realized sadly that this was a conference, thus meaning that I would get no sleep whatsoever. Muttering swear words under my breath while E.J. commented snidely that that wasn't a ladylike habit, I walked downstairs to make myself some coffee.

"So, what do you want me to do, Edith Jie? How are "we" going to fix it?" I inquired bluntly, if not a bit rudely. Not that I cared. Remember, I'm not a "nice girl". I knew "we" really meant me. I was the one who had to fix things. I could've sworn E.J. winced over the line. She hates being called by her first name. The only reason I know it is because I overheard her talking with her mom one time. No, Georgia said it, never mind.

E.J. cleared her throat primly. "You're suspended, Jude. A juvenile delinquent does not sell records. And before you start talking about the punk rock movement... I would like to point out how long it took for The Clash to get a single that even charted. We're going for the mainstream, Jude. We want kids' parents to like you. We want the 'tweens at your concerts, and with your antics lately, we're losing one of our biggest demographics. Plus all the high school and college girls are hating on you because they all think you're dating Tom Quincy. The elderly are protesting because of what they think you are," E.J. declared in a rush. She's so chatty, that one. I resented her saying that mainstream thing. I'd rather have a bunch of hardcore, serious fans than be adored by those little teenyboppers.

She only paused a moment to catch her breath before continuing. There was no room for me to speak. "Now, we obviously can't get rid of Tommy. He's too important for your music to be expendable. But no one believes there's nothing going on there, regardless of the fact that you're both dating each other's siblings. So we've tried to legitimize you two a little with all the balls, make you a bit more friendly because of humanitarian work, like Angelina. That's not exactly working, so we've got to resort to other ways of fixing this... problem of yours." E.J. was basically saying this: "We can't do anything about the fact that you're a whore, but we can fix that delinquency thing."

I was still flummoxed from her even considering "getting rid of" Tommy. I could never do that, and he wasn't even remotely expendable. She drew a breath and then went on fearlessly. "But back to the suspension. I called the school, and they said you got suspended for punching an authority figure. To make matters worse, he's apparently your music teacher. Do you realize how bad that makes you look? It makes you look like you don't respect authority and like you're an arrogant bitch who thinks she's too good for a little advice. And that is not good. Plus, Jude, we can't have you flunking out of school, especially since your parents insist that you graduate... Especially that wretched mother of yours. And you're supposed to be a role model, Jude. Now, you're not Lindsay Lohan yet, but as far as the tabs are concerned, you're a trainwreck-in-the-making heading in that direction," E.J. drawled in her all-too-matter-of-fact tone. Sometimes the truth hurts. I heard that somewhere.

She didn't leave me time to argue with her, but all I needed to know was what to do. Funny. I'd never noticed how much E.J. disliked my mom. And that Lindsay Lohan thing really pissed me off, so I had to clean up my act a helluva lot. I waited impatiently for E.J. to tell me what I needed to do. I was not disappointed. "Now, I've made some calls, and your principal was perfectly obliging. All you need to do in order to get your suspension lifted is apologize to your teacher. Now, I've done some research as to when you could do this, but I'd say the sooner the better. He has class right now, as you well know, but he has a free period at the end of the day, or you could always visit him on his lunch break. He has the first period," E.J. replied merrily. Luckily I'd been doing my make-up work and having my best friend turn it in for me.

I didn't want to see him, let alone apologize. In fact, I wanted nothing less in the world. Why would I want to do that? If anything, he should apologize to me! So I put up a fight. "No way! No. No. NO! I'm not doing it!" I protested loudly, vocally.

E.J. was still more insistent. Her voice became immediately sharp. She refused to take no for an answer. "Yes, you are, Jude, if you know what's good for you. You are going to suck up your pride and kiss this teacher's ass until your nose is brown. Now, you better get your ass down there around lunchtime... or else. I want this teacher to love you, Jude. I want you down on your knees, begging for his forgiveness," E.J. retorted, her tone absolutely steely, completely inflexible. Well that was just too damn bad. Instead of scaring me like it was supposed to, she just made me even more angry. It was her choice of words. Suck up my pride? The pride wasn't the problem. Kiss his ass? Brown nose? Down on my knees, begging? I think not. Plus, just think of all the absolutely disgusting sexual innuendos in that speech.

"And I wanted him suspended! I wanted him to go to prison for what he did to me. But I didn't get what I wanted either, E.J., so I think you can deal!" I shouted back at her. She probably didn't know. The douche bag principal hadn't told her about the charges I'd brought up against him. My screams were met with a confused silence. "Oh, the Principal didn't tell you about that, did he? He didn't tell you how my music teacher kissed me, how he attacked me, how he touched me! He didn't tell you that I reported him, and nothing fricking happened! How he did nothing, how he laughed at my words, how no one took me seriously! And of course he didn't tell you about the tears or the nightmares night after night because how would he know, right?" I screamed, feeling all the blood rush to my face. I was breathless, and my voice was scratchy. And I was absolutely murderous. "As far as I'm concerned, E.J., that bastard had it coming. So don't freaking expect me to talk to him. Don't expect me to apologize to him when he... not after what he did," I hissed with a furious vehemence.

E.J. was stunned into silence by that... for perhaps one of the only times in her life. Um, okay. It was pretty intense, I'm not gonna lie. "Jude, that does not matter. You need to do..." E.J. gave up mid-rant, sensing my defiance. She pulled back from the phone and sighed a little. "Fine. Tommy, maybe you can talk her into it." Then she huffed and, I assume, handed over the phone to Tommy Dearest. Tommy couldn't even talk me into it, not that he'd want to. If he knew what Travis, whom he hates already, did, he'd go postal on his ass. And then he'd get himself in jail for second-degree murder. Or maybe manslaughter if he was lucky, and the lawyer could convince the jury it was a crime of passion.

Sure enough, Tommy came on the phone less than a moment later. "Jude..." He sighed my name, and I hated how my insides turned to mush just from hearing my name roll off his lips. I don't like being one of those girls. My legs wobbled, so I took a deep breath to steady myself. He sounded anxious or worried, but he knew why I'd gotten suspended. Just not that Travis had molested me. And now he was going to convince me to apologize like he couldn't... wouldn't? Hypocrite. "Look, I know you don't want to do this," Tommy said almost patronizingly. So far he wasn't exactly helping his case. I rolled my eyes. And yet he's going to try to talk me into it. He started to say something else, but he didn't get to finish.

"You don't want me to apologize to Travis, Tommy. You think he deserved what he got, and, hell, you never bothered to apologize to him in the first place either," I countered bluntly, interrupting him. I was so sure I'd rendered him speechless. Tommy had applauded me, kissed my knuckles, said he loved me when he heard what I'd done (not in that way, though, really). He was proud, as well he should be; I broke Travis' nose, and Tommy was the one who taught me how to punch. He hated Travis almost as much as I did, maybe even more. But we each hated Travis for different reasons, on Tom's part, reasons I could barely comprehend, if indeed I could understand that.

Tommy spoke seriously in a tone I hadn't heard for a very long time. "You know what you need to do, Jude. He's your teacher, and you ought to show him respect," Tommy replied evenly. He talked in a strange voice; I couldn't place his tone, cool yet firm. I scoffed at him nonetheless. Tommy was talking to me about respect? I didn't owe Travis any respect; he was barely an authority figure, and a lousy one at that. Plus, since when have I respected authority? And, finally, why must I show a man respect who doesn't even respect me? He didn't respect me enough to stay away, to not put his hands all over me, so why did I owe him an apology, much less one ounce of courtesy?

And having Tommy, of all people, telling me what I ought to do? Well, what did he know? He ought to not have banged Kate, Travis' fiancée. He ought to stop cheating on Sadie. He ought to never have let Ruby in his house. He ought never to have kissed me. He ought to stay away and get his stupid aristocratic nose out of my business. "He doesn't merit it, Tommy. I know you don't believe that crap. Now stop lying to me and give me one good reason why I should go down there and demean myself by begging for his forgiveness," I stated sternly. I wasn't going to mess around.

All of a sudden I realized what that odd tone of his had been. Respect. Beneath that growl, beneath the lies, he still respected Travis. And I remembered what Taylor had told me about how close Tommy and Travis had been, and how much he said Tommy had admired Travis- how he had wanted to be Travis. But Travis had changed, and Tommy couldn't see that as clearly as I could; then again, I'd never known the old Travis. Tommy knew that there were many differences existing between the man he knew and the one he'd seen from a distance, but he had no idea how truly depraved his former friend was. And I did. "Fine. You want a reason? Okay. Here it is. We shall make a little wager, you and I... If you apologize to Travis like a good girl, I'll give you a reward," Tommy replied finally, attempting to challenge me.

I wasn't quite sure if he was flirting with me or not, but I didn't want to accept anyways. Don't get me wrong; I love a good reward, especially the kind I'm sure he had in mind, but that whole little speech of his had entirely too much flirting in it for my taste. There was something awfully calculating about the way he'd said all that. It felt like he was treating me like a little kid. "No, Tommy. I'm not just gonna play ball like that. I don't want your reward. I want a reason, and it better be a damn good one," I protested irritably. Though I couldn't see him, I knew him well enough to know he had stiffened.

He refrained from citing my image and record sales, the reasons E.J. had brought up. "Do it so no one can call you stupid... Do it so you can go right back to school and piss him off. You don't have to mean it; you just have to pretend like you do," Tommy exclaimed passionately in an intent sort of whisper. I have to say that he had a good point for once. But that wasn't enough for me, not yet. I wanted one good reason, something to spur me into action. Finally, Tommy seemed to realize that none of that was enough, so he sighed heavily. "Do it for me, Jude," Tommy begged. My heart skipped a beat. He wanted a personal favor? After what he's done? "If you do this one thing... I'll do what you want. I won't bother you anymore," Tommy capitulated. He sounded weak and resigned. His voice was hoarse, but I knew better than to assume that I was the cause of so much anguish.

You see, I had a cold a couple weeks ago. It was this dreadful thing, lasted about a month. Tommy, it seems, had finally caught my cold. He was completely miserable, sneezing all the time, coughing again and again. Funny how my sister didn't seem to recollect that I'd had the same communicable disease. By that I mean contagious through close physical contact NOT in reference to an STD, although I'm sure Tommy's had his share of problems with that too. Saying that he'd stop bothering me did it for me. Tommy had been damn near smothering me with his all-too (un)wanted presence ever since I'd fainted on stage. He took me out for meals, watched over me when I slept, stepped in to resolve potential conflicts, etcetera... a lot like an overprotective stalker-father, except he managed to outmaneuver my real father.

"I'll think about it." Or so I said. I really meant that I would go down and do that. I just had to maintain the semblance of cool. I couldn't show him how much he continues to affect me. Then I exchanged pleasant goodbyes with Tommy and hung up. Grumbling, I downed my now lukewarm coffee and went upstairs to shower and dress. If I was going to see Travis, I was going to go there dressed impeccably. And in such a way that he couldn't try to rape me again. That meant combat boots, skintight black pants, about twelve belts in assorted materials and colors, spike bracelets and chains, and a long-sleeved layered t-shirt with a black sweater over it, then a pink windbreaker, and then my leather jacket topped off with a winter coat.

Actually, that's a lie. In reality, I dressed like I was going to a funeral. Or on a steak-out/spy mission. Tight yet stretchy black pants, boot-cut, Doc Marten combat boots (which hinted at a potential ass-kicking, not kissing, or rather kicking the crap out of a certain someone), layered black shirts, dark sunglasses, a toque, and a long black trench coat. It was, after all, winter. I had to dress the part. But I did wear two bras. Just to confuse him in case he somehow managed to get past the buttons and the layers. Before leaving, I dropped a switch-blade in my pocket. A gift from Patsy. Gotta love that girl. They're illegal, and so what? You never know when something's going to happen to you, so it's best to be prepared. I'm not going in there unarmed. I don't want to be a victim. Think of it as a fifth line of defense, in case all those buttons and layers and snaps and boots don't deter him.

But before that, I had to get myself a nice, biiig breakfast. Now, technically Mommy and Daddy had both just left for work, which gave me free reign for a bit. I had to be down at the school by his lunch period. Great. Conforming to Travis' schedule already. It was like I was back already. So I found a lovely IHOP (it really IS international!) and enjoyed a lovelier breakfast. They gave me a discount; I signed a bunch of autographs... or two. It was a win-win situation. Oh, and they made me write the new IHOP jingle. That actually is true, since I had my guitar strapped to my back. "I hop to the spot; it's the place to be. I hop-hop-hop to the restaurant that serves... only the best breakfast for you and me! IHOP! It's recognized internationally. IHOP! It's like a home away from home. IHOP! And they've got the best pancakes with the finest maple syrup outside of Vermont alone! International House of Pancakes! Come hungry, leave happy!"

Okay, so maybe they don't actually use real maple syrup. Only we live in Canada, and in case you haven't noticed, the stuff is kind of everywhere. So it's cheaper to use the real stuff than import it. It's why we have a freaking maple leaf on our flag. And, y'know, the stars and stripes were already taken, and we tried other stuff, but you get the picture. Didn't work. And the Union Jack's... not my cup of tea. And maybe they're trying to ditch the International House of Pancakes bit, reverting to the acronym instead, and maybe it's not actually international. I mean, do you seriously know how far I had to drive to find one? All the way to the States. In the middle of nowhere. I had to look it up online.

I mean, I know there's Denny's. And Denny's is always open, but it's not International. So I came back at like, eleven, which didn't give me much time to get to school. I bypassed that by speeding. Only ten miles over, though, and that's downright slow. When I finally got to school, it was about eleven fifteen. I parked the car, albeit a bit jerkily, and for a moment I just stared at the door, open-mouthed. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to go inside, of course, but I kept reminding myself that I was doing it for a reason. Only when I got down to it, I actually hated the reason. I didn't really want to keep Tommy at arm's length. Nonetheless, it was lunchtime, at least at my school, so I had to get to Travis, if he hadn't already made for the teacher's lounge already.

So I took a deep breath and got out of my car. Then I locked the car over my shoulder and walked in without looking back. I had to pretend to be confident or else I wouldn't actually be confident. Because eventually, there comes a point where you stop pretending and just... are. I barged right in there, walked down the hallways like it was nothing. The halls were pretty much deserted, so I didn't get any strange looks. And I kept walking, walking briskly, okay, almost speed-walking, until I'd reached his classroom. This time I barged in without the deep breath.

My breath immediately got caught in my throat, of course. Travis was still in there, surprisingly enough. I almost hadn't expected him to be there, but he was. And he looked better than I remembered. A lot better. I might hate the man and everything he stands for, but I'm not going to say he isn't ridiculously attractive. Keep in mind that the last time I saw him he was wearing a lot of make up to cover up the bruising and still recovering from a broken nose. And he still looked so damn good that I mistook him for Tommy, whom I am very fond of. The nose was courtesy of me and my right hook, in case I didn't already tell you that. And he didn't have any of those mottled purple hickies all down his neck this time. I know because the first three buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. Of course his hair had to look fabulous, and his clothes were absolutely perfect.

And, to make matters even stranger, Travis was talking to my friend Joan. Now, my friend Joan has this thing for Travis, and Travis, despite the fact that he's a teacher, has an even bigger thing for her. Joan never says a word, but it's so easy to tell how she feels. Anyways, I owe Joan a lot, since she's the one that walked in and... stopped... Travis. So, as of late, she hates him almost as much as I do, but it's worse because she has feelings for him too at the same time. Then again, I don't know. I haven't really seen her around him a lot. The truly weird thing was that she was alone with him when she obviously doesn't trust him at all. I removed my sunglasses and stood in the doorway.

"Mr. Quinn, I told you; I'd like to drop your class. I don't need this credit for graduation, and there's a section of Econ I can get in instead. Now just let me do it, okay?" Joan said coolly, placing her hands on her hips. Travis shook his head, surprised at her formality. Joan rolled her eyes. "I am not a musical person. I don't want to pursue it for a career, so it's not worthwhile to me to be enrolled in the class," Joan continued frostily. This time Quinn rolled his eyes. He snorted. On the bright side, at least he wasn't trying to hit on her. I think this is the first time I've seen them alone where he hasn't been coming on to her.

"Oh, please! You know you love it," He countered sharply. "And it's too late to drop now. It's almost end of semester, and you wouldn't get any credit. You'd just get a free period or wind up as a teacher's aid, and that's below you," Travis pointed out bluntly. He was right, of course. It was insane for Joan to insist now. And the end of the year was only a few weeks away. "Not to mention that you hate numbers, money, and math."

Joan is rarely inclined towards fits of passion, but she made a special exception this time. Travis always brings it out in a person. "I'm not like you, Travis! Music is not my life!"Joan shrieked. Travis grabbed her then by the wrists, extra hard. He jerked her towards him roughly, but Joan was stronger. Her eyes flashed, and she pulled back and broke free. That was true. Joan isn't a musician like you and me. She doesn't live it. She understands it, but she has higher (and probably more sensible) aspirations. I decided to make my presence known at that point, to save Joan a bit, since Travis was looking wicked angry. Besides, I owed her, and the least I could do was attempt to repay the favor. Not that I could come even close to doing that.

I cleared my throat and knocked on the door loudly. "So, um... hi. Haven't seen either of you in a while," I muttered awkwardly. I was going to make a sarcastic remark about whether or not he was going to try and rape another girl, but I was supposed to apologize and suck up. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Oh great. I can feel the mortification coming on now. The last time I'd seen Travis, he pretended to be Tommy and tried to marry me. I kid you not. That actually happened. My life is almost worse than a soap opera some days, and that day happened to be one of them.

Oddly enough, Travis barely reacted at all. In fact, I think he just blinked. Joan moved even further away from him almost guiltily. Like I cared. I'd been way closer to the man, so, even if I was a judgmental type; I was no one to judge. I walked towards them, plastering the phoniest smile I could muster on my lips. "Mr. Quinn, we need to talk," I replied upon reaching them, taking Joan's cue to be professional. I could do it. He raised an eyebrow, but I pushed on bravely. The quicker I said it, the faster it'd be over and done. "I'm sorry for breaking your nose." It all came out in one breath. Travis raised his eyebrows.

"Slower, please," He requested calmly. He wanted to torture me, I think. He probably heard me. The man has ears like a hawk. I wanted to glower at him, but I had to be on my best behavior. I kept reminding myself that I was only doing this to get myself out of a hole the size of Canada. And for Tommy. The for-Tommy aspect of it had a particular sticking-it-to-Travis aspect of it, since they detest each other. I took a shallow breath. Phew.

At first I couldn't say it. "I'm s... I'm s-s-s-s... orry. I'm story... I am... ack!" I stuttered. I was about the color of a tomato, I think. Travis was unsuccessfully trying to hold back laughter. Joan shot me a confused, if pitying look. I took a moment to collect myself. I'd spit it all out just matter-of-fact, pretending that he hadn't proposed to me.

"I'm sorry I broke your nose. I was out of line. It was the wrong thing to do, and I'm sorry," I said more slowly. Travis just stared at me, as did Joan. It was more than a little unnerving. Okay, it was a lot unnerving. Thinking they didn't understand, I decided to repeat it. He needed to accept for me to be in the clear. "I said that I'm sorry for punching you. And I'm sorry for the two black eyes. Oh, and sorry I was so nasty to you when you were just pushing me to do my best. I really do respect you," I apologized sweetly. Okay, that might've been laying it on a little too thickly.

Travis rolled his eyes at me. "Cut the BS, Jude," He snapped. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What do you want?" I batted my eyelashes innocently. Nothing, just your forgiveness, but if he knew that it'd be conditional. Nothing. Joan stared at me as if she'd just seen an alien. Not that I especially blame her.

"Have you lost your mind? Or are you just having one of those weird mood swings where you decide you've fallen in love with him?" Joan asked curiously. I just shrugged and claimed nothing was wrong with me, glancing anxiously at Travis. Please don't let him think she was serious about me being in love with him, 'cause I'm not. Travis said nothing, which made me furious. But, of course, I had to repress this. Joan was ironically right about something: that mood swing. I'd been completely insane that day. It was also ironic since hello, the whole proposal thing.

Travis also felt the need to repeat himself. "Forgiveness," I said. Travis raised an eyebrow suspiciously. I sighed irritably. "Look, just forgive me. I really am sorry," I implored. Travis continued to stare at me disbelievingly, but he did nod. My shoulders sunk in relief. Phew, got that over with.

Joan immediately turned to me, livid. It wasn't like she was the one who'd just had to kowtow to the one person she hated most in the world. I only had enough pride left to keep me from crawling back to Tommy and having sex with him in the studio. "What is wrong with you? You're actually apologizing to the guy who almost raped you?" Joan shouted, berating me and sounding so very disappointed in me. It's not like I wanted to, but I had no choice. I said nothing, because I couldn't. If I did, it'd wreck everything. Her voice dropped an octave, and she addressed her words to me only, sounding hurt and betrayed. "Do you have any self-respect?" She whispered.

Travis stood there coolly with his eyes focused on Joan, who looked quite decomposed (as in not put together, not falling apart). He was smirking a little. He was acting like nothing had happened, and frankly, that just really pissed me off. Joan scowled at him and left without a word. After that, it was just me and Travis, and wasn't that uncomfortable? He just kept on smirking, enjoying every moment of it. So maybe I lost my stack a little. I had resisted humiliating him in front of Joan, but I wasn't about to keep up the act when we were all alone. What was the point? We knew everything about each other (in that sense); denying it was pointless. "Are you just gonna stand there like you didn't flipping propose to me?! Like you didn't beg me to marry you and attempt to abduct me?" I shrieked, unable to believe him. He was... is... something else entirely.

Travis was completely impassive. "I don't know what you're talking about," He said primly, as if he didn't actually have a clue. He was in complete denial, like he'd repressed it or something. I gaped at him. And I thought Tommy was a liar. I was there, idiot! I continued to glower at him, struck speechless. He said nothing, turning to his desk and calmly arranging papers. "I've noticed you've had Jamie get your homework, and he's been turning it in for you. That's good. I trust you won't need to catch up much, then. I expect a performance the first day, Ms. Harrison. You've had a lot of time to work on new material," Travis explained placidly yet firmly.

I nodded plainly. Maybe I'll write a song about him proposing just to remind him. "Yeah. Don't worry. You'll get your performance, whether you like it or not," I promised, turning my back on him. I was vaguely irritated, so I decided not to push it. I'd deal with it later, as Travis' remotely good mood was often short-lived. Without even a goodbye I whirled around and left the school like a tornado. Some people are simply unbelievable. I'd get why he'd pretend it didn't happen, but it did. Maybe he doesn't want to remember his moment of insanity. Whatever. I'll make him remember, and I'll make him ashamed of it. I'm not gonna sweep that under the rug like his abuses.

That being said and done, I had G. Major business to do. Actually, I had to properly R.S.V.P. for Christmas with the Quincys, which meant I had to do it through Tommy's mother, Victoria LaFramboise-Ruelle, who also happens to be my lawyer. Aside from that, I also needed to check up on her progress. She's suing some people for me for libel and slander for saying I'm a whore and that I'm dating all these people that I'm really not. And yes, his mother is as uptight and formal as she sounds. The woman could very well wind up being family, especially when Tommy and Sadie tie the knot, so it's important to be on good terms with her. Even though she hates me. On the bright side, she hates Tommy too.

So I called Tommy's mother up and told her receptionist I'd be dropping by. She has offices in New York, Montreal, Los Angeles, and Paris too, apparently. I didn't know that. Then I got myself a wrap or something for lunch and drove to her office, which was in the ritzy part of town. I barged right in, and the receptionist was rather unhappy about it, but whatever. She could deal. Tory wasn't even in a meeting; she was just sitting in her office all alone, almost as if she was waiting for me. Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if she was. That woman, I tell you, knows everything. "Well, well... Jude Harrison. Ms. Harrison, what can I do for you?" Tory greeted me, coolly polite. She gave me a scrutinizing look with those piercing frost-blue eyes of hers. "Let me guess... You're here to check on your pending lawsuits, right?" Victoria proposed shrewdly. She motioned for me to sit, so I sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

"That, among other things," I replied, feeling a bit queasy at the thought. Victoria nodded thoughtfully and handed me the different files. In a cool, clipped tone, she patiently explained to me the ins and outs of the legal system and where my cases were going. It was really boring, but I nodded and pretended to listen. I didn't understand any of it, but then again, I didn't have to. Victoria assured me professionally that that was her job. She also said she could get me out of G. Major at any time I wanted, since, as a minor, I could legally void any contract I'd signed. Maybe that had been why Georgia and E.J. had been reluctant to hire me, y'think?

"Jude, for what other reason are you here?" Victoria asked suspiciously. See how quickly she saw right through me? I sighed. Wow. How could I explain it? I sighed and attempted to tell her.

I bit my lip nervously. "Um... I just wanted to tell you personally that I'll be coming to your house in Montreal for Christmas. That is okay, isn't it?" I replied shakily. Victoria regarded me with interest. Apparently no one had informed her I would be coming. She didn't exactly look that thrilled. But hey, at least I'll bring her a present. "Is it okay? 'Cause my parents are completely okay with it. They really admire you, Mrs. Quincy... Um, I mean, Ms. LaFramboise-Ruelle, of course, sorry... I mean, I'll bring presents... You won't even know I'm there. Or if you really don't want to see me, I'll just stay home, but my parents are going out of town on a sort of second honeymoon thing..." I rambled. Victoria cut me off with a hand gesture.

She waved it off casually. "Of course it's acceptable, Jude. If your parents are okay with it, then so am I," Victoria said calmly, almost smiling. I almost had a heart attack. Victoria LaFramboise-Ruelle was actually being sort of nice to me, which is a rarity. I've only seen her be nice to her son, her flesh and blood... once... on his birthday. Then she actually did smile, and her eyes sort of twinkled. "I trust you have good taste in gifts," She remarked with a grin. Then I had another heart attack because she'd just made a joke. I was pretty surprised, actually, considering how I'd messed up that little speech and called her by her ex-husband's name, although, in retrospect, that might've been what she liked about me.

Victoria looked contemplative for a moment. "Besides, my sons all love you," She said nonchalantly, pausing for a moment. All of them? Love me? Seriously, what is it with people thinking Tommy loves me? Let me tell you, Lily, I knew there was a catch. "Now, I can only wonder which of them invited you." And there it was. I flushed horribly, and she knew. She always knows. Victoria smiled secretively, waiting for an answer.

I sighed and prepared to tell her the truth. "Both, actually... But Tommy asked first. Taylor called this morning and asked. I told him I'd get back to him," I elucidated carefully, wondering what she would think of me. Victoria nodded; she didn't look surprised.

"Because you'd already told Tommy yes," She interrupted in a tone I couldn't quite place. She was watching me. I nodded softly, guiltily, because there was nothing else I could do. Obviously I couldn't just deny it. Especially since, hello, it was the truth. You can't lie to Victoria. And that's pretty much it, once you get down to it. Victoria didn't look sad about it. Don't get me wrong, she likes Taylor scads better than Tommy... Yet she understands the way I'm drawn to him. They're a whole family of paradoxes, I tell you.

Victoria actually smirked. I was floored. "You realize, right, that he didn't even invite that fiancée of his? But he asked you... way in advance... and he cleared it with me first. Tommy never does things like that, you know, but he seemed so worried that you wouldn't be able to come," Tory drawled, flashing me an all-too knowing smile. She wasn't used to seeing impervious Tommy flustered, so it amused her to mock him for it. Tom really prides himself on keeping his cool, but of course, I tend to kill that in people. Taylor too, actually.

I was mildly shocked by this little revelation, seeing as she was his girlfriend, not me. You have to understand this. My sister beats me at everything, so it's weird how it seems like Tommy likes me better than her, his own betrothed. I mean, my sister's never been to his place or met any of his relatives... And I've met just about the whole fam. His little brother, his mother (the most important), his father, and maybe even his older brother... for all I know. When you think about it, it really sounds like I'm the girlfriend, not the Harrison actually wearing the ring. He's cooked for me, and he's given me jewelry, I suppose. Nothing fancy, though. Just classy all around.

Of course, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that my sister was going. She needed something to do for Christmas too, and I'd already assumed she was invited. She was certainly expecting something from Tom, at any rate. I felt myself flush at her speech, insinuating that her middle son had anything more than platonic feelings for me. It's so weird to have someone say that to you, especially when it's his mother. I decided a change of subject was in order because Tommy obviously doesn't love me. I'd say his mom was going senile, but she's razor sharp, and she's barely forty, although she looks barely thirty. "So, do you know what Tommy's getting me?" I asked brightly. Damn. I meant to say Taylor. Freudian slips and all.

Victoria smirked, like she was amused at my preoccupation with her son. Then she shrugged cruelly. Tommy and his mother are by no means close, so that was a stupid-ass question to ask. "What would you like?" Victoria quipped, rather less amused. She's not a messenger, so I guess she was slightly less amused. See how completely confusing this woman is? No wonder she's a lawyer.

Now, in reality, I have no clue. Tommy could get me anything. He's gotten me jewelry on multiple occasions, but last year for my birthday he gave me driving lessons and a promise to get along with my... with my now ex-boyfriend. Yeah, THE Shay. I'm betting on jewelry of some sort, which is good, because he has excellent taste in jewelry. I actually wear what he's bought for me. Like see, look, this ring... and this necklace. He gave me both of them. What? You thought they'd be fancier, didn't you? That's understandable since he's a millionaire and all, but he knows my taste, and I like things simple. "Michael Seater," I said plainly, not missing a beat. Victoria raised an eyebrow at my selection.

Oh, come on. He's hot, funny, and he has really great hair. You know what I'm talking about. Seriously, he's the only reason why I know anything about science. I watched Black Hole High solely because he was in it, hence the science. Hell, I might just ask to guest star in an episode of Life With Derek. How awesome would that be? And that's why he'd be a great Christmas present... wrapped or unwrapped. Now, of course, Tommy is never going to get me a man for Christmas, much less when I'm "dating" his brother, but it was a nice dream, wasn't it? Plus the look on Tory's face was totally priceless.

She collected herself some time later in about five seconds, once again maintaining the famous Quincy composure. She gave me a scrutinizing look and then followed that up with a very businesslike nod. "Since you're practically family," She paused briefly here, like she was spitting out something unpleasant (the unpleasantness being that I was practically family, sadly enough). "I'm extending family privileges to you. You may bring whoever you like, although I do request that you inform me which of them are staying so that I can have the maids prepare the proper amount of rooms. I like big Christmases, and I've got a big house with lots of room. I don't like to see my house empty. Also, don't worry if some of your guests won't get along with my family... The more awkward, the better. It keeps them on their toes, plus it provides me with endless amusement," Victoria stated formally yet also warmly.

This proves that she is clearly a sick individual. She likes chaos and having a bunch of people who dislike each other in one small really large space. I think she wants it to be some sort of social experiment. This is also worrisome, since she considers me a family member. Boyz Attack! And Darius Mills (and family) are also part of this elusive circle. "Since you will be in Montreal, I expect you to speak a bit of French or, at least, to try. You will also be expected to join us at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Other than that and Christmas Day, your time is your own to spend as you wish. You will have full use of the facilities except my bedroom and private areas. Oh, and we are having a New Year's Party, as according to custom. It'll be all industry people, so your attendance, while not mandatory, per se, is heavily recommended," Victoria finished bossily. Her orders, despite being orders, sounded okay. I mean, a party? That could be cool. And if it wasn't, I could run off with Tommy. Ha, I wish. It'll be nice to spend Christmas with them, I think.

Either that or a complete disaster. I'd say it's about fifty-fifty. I nodded obediently. "Thanks so much, Mrs. Q," I said emphatically, flashing her a wide smile. I totally didn't mean to call her that, but I never know what to call her. I mean, she's an adult, so it's weird, disrespectful even to call her by her first name. Calling her Tory's way too informal, but I don't want to call her by her last name either because she has a long last name, and it reminds her that she's not married anymore. But I can't exactly call her Mrs. Quincy, can I, when her ex-husband's married to someone else, even if she is the most annoying woman alive? I think she likes being called that, though.

Only problem is now I've gotta think of what to get her, and she has expensive taste. You got any suggestions? Oh, right, you want to know what happened next because that only seems remotely crazy. Okay, so after that I was all set to go when she stopped me by assuring, "I meant what I said about Tommy, you know." So then why are you telling me?! Why not him, huh, if it's really true?! That's what I wanted to ask. Saying stuff like that practically encourages me to bang him and get him in prison. I mean, I know she dislikes him, but I didn't think she hated him that much. That was awkward, so after that I left, trying to regain my dignity.

By this point, it was around lunch time, so I went home and changed into some comfy clothes. I was still a little full from breakfast so I went to my rehearsal space (this really cheap place that me and the guys rent for like two cents a month... 'cause practicing in our basements got old) and crammed in a really energetic, frenetic jam session. I was running and jumping around like a madwoman, and it was a load of fun. By the end of it, though, I was completely sweaty and disgusting, so I went back home to shower. By then it was pushing four, and, upon checking my phone on the way home (from the subway), I discovered that Tommy had called me. Twice. Okay, ten times. I'd turned my phone off so it wouldn't ruin the really terrific jam session I had. Seriously, I think I wrote ten songs. I recorded them too, but it sounds really low-tech because I'm no pro producer. And all those instruments are heavy and kind of beat-up. They consist of a really beat-up old keyboard, this super-cheap bass Wally got at a garage sale, this piano down in the basement, old-speakers, an ancient microphone, and a seriously weird stringed instrument that was there when we rented it, so I had to lug my guitar and laptop (okay, Tommy's laptop. It has Pro-Tools, and he doesn't know I borrowed it) there.

An average person would say those were all booty calls, but they weren't. Stalker calls, maybe. He was worried about me, and he's been insanely worried about me since I passed out on stage. I guess he's got a reason; after all, I skipped lunch today. Anyways, aside from questioning my whereabouts, Tommy kept insisting that I drop by his place... and he wondered about the apology. So I had to hop back in my car, forgo my shower, and drive all the way across town to get there. I should've called, but isn't it fun to drop in on friends? There I was, fifteen minutes later, knocking on his door. "Tommy? You said you had something for me?" I called, still banging on his door. It was beginning to hurt my fists. "TOMMY! Don't you want to hear about Travis? Whether I apologized or not?" I was trying to draw him out. Then I resorted to screaming his name, which didn't disrupt anyone since he's the only one that lives there. He owns the whole building.

Finally, Tommy surprised me by coming to the door. He looked both surprised and pleased to see me. "Jude, hey!" Nice inversion there, don't you think? He flashed me a smile and then showed me in. There was a strange nervousness about him. I didn't get why at first, unless he knew I'd been to see his mother. I glanced around the place, noting that it looked exactly the same as I remembered, only slightly messier. Tommy is a neat freak, so he keeps his apartment in general compulsively clean. I should've known that something was up. It wasn't obvious, but it was there... some difference in the air.

I stepped inside, feeling somewhat anxious. I always feel anxious when I'm all alone with Tommy. It's kind of a precariously tempting position for me to be in. I cleared my throat nervously, trying to look at anything but him. "You said you had something for me, Tommy?" I asked, trying to keep my cool. I could feel my stress level rising, and being in his penthouse wasn't exactly helping matters. By all means, I should be hella comfortable in Tommy's house. I've been there so often lately that it's practically like a home to me. My sister, his lovely fiancée, hasn't even been there once. Obviously I don't want to think about what that means for their sex life, although I've stayed overnight at his apartment more times than I'd like to admit. Actually, that makes me wonder which of us is actually having a sexual relationship with him, since I've stayed over at his apartment, slept in the same bed with him, had dry sex with him on camera, and everything... well, almost everything... Yet my sister's the one he's marrying and dating and that, the whole shebang.

That's a really messed up thing to have to wonder about, much less at sixteen.

He nodded. "Yeah. Actually, I'm gonna go upstairs and get it. Just make yourself at home while you wait," Tommy muttered offhandedly. That was my cue to plop down on his couch and start channel-surfing. He has over a thousand channels, and unbelievably there was next to nothing on the screen. Then I came across this absolutely brilliant documentary on Boyz Attack!, so of course I had to watch it. Plus I was kind of dying to see Tommy's response. It had delved into their music videos, playing and analyzing them by the time Tommy got downstairs. By this point, I was on my feet, doing the dance moves to "Pick Up the Pieces". I'd achieved almost complete mastery when I turned around, mid-booty shake, and caught Tommy watching me with rapt interest.

I couldn't stop then, of course. I couldn't stop just because the idiot was watching. So I continued my dance routine without missing a beat, keeping my eyes focused on Tommy. It's what he would do, after all. I could tell he was getting a kick out of it. He had this stupid smirk on his face. Now, I knew full well he could do it with me, but he was letting me suffer on alone. He knows I'm absolutely awful at choreography of any sort, but I tried extra hard just to prove to him that I could do it. Still, it was hard. Luckily, though, it's a short song, and soon enough I was done and completely breathless.

Tommy started applauding, a wide smile breaking out on his face. "Nicely done, Harrison," He complimented. I could see the laughter in his eyes as he approached me. "But your ass shake needs serious work." He walked up to me, placing the gift that he'd been holding (which I'd somehow failed to notice) on the coffee table. He stood next to me goodnaturedly. "You've got to do it like this," he instructed, assuming the position. "Turn around, swivel the hips, pivot, and shake." I did as he instructed, but apparently I still wasn't doing it right. He shook his head, frowning a little. "Not enough shake." I rolled my eyes, but Tommy takes dance very seriously. He's a complete perfectionist freak, I tell you. So we kept practicing, but obviously I wasn't doing it right. So eventually Tommy grabbed my hips and made me move the way he wanted.

It's always done how he wants it.

I didn't mean that the way it came out. He always makes people do things the way he wants them to be done.

Erm... It's always what Tommy wants. There.

Ahem... He got a little... okay, a lot... closer than he probably should've. I think it was an excuse to grab my ass, personally. It was a successful excuse, at any rate. It took me about fifteen minutes to realize that, hello, I was getting caught up in his spell again. Tommy's like a spider; he weaves a fine little web of lies, and if you're not careful, you'll fly right into it and get stuck. And then he'll devour you whole. Or consume you, whichever you prefer. Only I hate spiders and lo... Don't hate Tommy. So after a while, I drew back and picked up the present on the table. It was a medium-sized box, carefully wrapped and trimmed with a beautiful bow. His compulsion is excellent for wrapping gifts.

I gave him a sideways look, wordlessly asking if it was okay to open it. Tommy graced me with a smile. "Think of it as an early birthday present," He said, motioning for me to open it. I nodded brightly and carefully started to undo the bow and then the paper and then I opened the box. Inside of it was another, smaller box. I opened that box and was surprised to find... diamond and platinum stud earrings, cut in the shape of stars. I have no idea how expensive they were, but I'd guess extremely. I gaped at them for several long moments and threw my arms around him impulsively. It's what you do when someone buys you such an outlandish birthday present. I couldn't think of a single thing that could top it.

Like he said last year, what do you get for the girl who has everything? It was a stupid thing to do, considering how I'm trying to resist him and all. And once I was in his arms, I kind of went all melty. He just smells so good. It was weird, since I was all sweaty and disgusting, but Tommy didn't seem to mind. "Tommy," I whispered, still holding on to him, "Your brother asked me to come stay with you for Christmas."

Strangely enough, although we'd been hugging far too long and far to closely for it to be considered proper, Tommy didn't back away. "Uh huh," He murmured distractedly, "And what did you say?" His breath was brushing against my ear, so Tommy wasn't the only one who was distracted. Too close. I bit my lip and shrugged.

"I said I'd think about it." In not so many words, yes. And that I'd have to ask Mom and Dad.

Tommy's lips brushed against my ear. "He doesn't know, does he?" He hissed almost accusingly. And then he kind of nipped my ear. I don't know if that was an accident or not, but he seemed kind of pissed, so it's a toss-up. Not trusting myself to speak, or, even, really, breathe, I merely nodded. "He doesn't know that I asked you weeks ago, and you said yes immediately," Tommy restated, clearly trying to prove a point. He drew back a little at this, but I was still in his arms. I could only nod again dumbly, wondering what he wanted from me. Are people trying to make me feel bad about that? If the guy of your dr... If your closest (note that I said closest, not best. There is a difference) friend asks you to come stay with him for Christmas, why say no? I mean, Tommy's only like, my first or second favorite person in the world, so of course I'm gonna want to spend the happiest time of the year with the person who makes me the happiest. I don't get why people should try and make me feel bad for saying yes in a heartbeat. Besides, that was before Taylor and I were really dating anyways. "Without any thought, without even asking your parents." I nodded again, wanting to know what he was getting at. Tom was starting to scare me.

I could tell he was angry with me, but I didn't exactly know why. Tommy knew I was going, and I hadn't exactly lied to his brother or anything. I realize now that he was mad because his brother apparently thought our relationship was serious enough that he could ask me that. Or something. Who really knows with Tommy? "You should've told him," Tommy continued in a low, measured voice. He said these words looking directly at me. I sighed, frustrated. If he was going to go on about it... "Why didn't you?" He asked with a curious lilt in his voice.

That was my breaking point. I glowered at him, pushing him away from me. "Because I'm not stupid,Tommy! I know how it looks, okay?! He's already insecure enough about our relationship as it is without me rubbing it in his face! What was I supposed to say? "Okay, Taylor, sounds great. But I was already going anyways because your older brother asked me first." I don't think so!" I shouted furiously. He was coming between Taylor and me in the subtlest ways. Tommy shrugged nonchalantly, a gesture that only raised my ire. "We ended our conversation fighting over you because I was dumb enough to bring you up as a reason why my parents wouldn't want me to go."

Tommy stared at me blankly after this admission. As if that still wasn't enough for him. I exhaled irritably, throwing my hands in the air. "What do you want me to say, Tommy?! That I like you a hundred times more than your brother?! Well, there, I said it!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I almost said I... Well, never matter what I almost said. It would've been too much, but the point is that obviously if I had a choice between Tommy and his brother... or Tommy and anyone, for that matter... Tommy would win. Tommy always wins. I heart Tommy, but I just heart him. No sentiments attached. And yes, I realize and embrace the irony in that sentence.

I wanted to leave then, but a pained look crossed Tommy's face. He made me stay, for I had obviously said exactly what he wanted to hear. I hated him for that. He has this way of getting completely under my skin and making it so I don't know what I'm doing. Coolly yet not frostily, Tommy walked over to me, snatching the earring box out of my hand. He didn't say a word as he carefully took one earring out of the box, turning me to face him. He gently shoved the earring through the hole, attaching the fastener in the back so that it would stay in. He did this like a pro, like one who had done this many times and for many years. When I asked, Tommy told me that he'd once had a pierced ear. Or two. I'm not sure if it was during his boyband days or in the days that followed when he was traveling and out "finding" himself.

Anyways, as pleasant as that little digression was, I'm sure you're not half as obsessed with Tommy as I am and would prefer I keep the thoughts on him to a minimum. It's okay. I quite understand. So he did the same thing with the other earring, and I thought this was quite possibly the sweetest thing ever. I walked away after that to go see what I looked like in a mirror, and the earrings were lovely. I was disgusting, but the earrings were absolutely lovely. They sparkled beautifully; I instantly adored them. It was love at first sight, and I didn't even love T... Shay... at first sight. Oh, hell, now that I think about it, I've never loved anyone at first sight. And I barely even loved Shay at all.

Tommy came up behind me and asked me how I liked them. Touching them with a faint smile, he said, "I saw them and thought of you. Figured they'd match your ring, and it was about time I actually bought you something expensive." Tommy's policy is: I have all this money, so I might as well do something with it. Like spend it on people I care about. Just care about. The L-word does not slip past his lips, even for family. I mumbled a thank-you and turned around to hug him once again, forgetting my anger. Tommy has a way of doing that to a person, just charming you with a smile and making you fall for him.

It was nice being all wrapped up in his arms, but I still felt icky. I didn't get how he could possibly want to be near me when I was damp and probably smelly. That's love, you say, but Tommy doesn't love me. "Tommy... I'm all sweaty and disgusting. I haven't had a chance to shower. You can't possibly want to..." I protested feebly. Strangely enough, he didn't care. Especially since I could've sworn that he inhaled me like a thirsty man drinks water. He was trying to squeeze all the life out of me, I swear. He didn't let go at first, but then he assented slowly. I had to practically peel him off of me, though.

He motioned widely to his house. "Mi casa es su casa," He proclaimed rather triumphantly. I thought he sounded more than a little bit drunk, but I was fairly certain he hadn't been drinking. I got what it meant, though. Not that it was literally my house too... That sounds weird, doesn't it? Makes you think he actually wants to spend his life with me.

I quirked an eyebrow. "Ma maison est ta maison, don'tcha mean?" Well, it was more appropriate. He's French, after all, not Spanish. Hell, French was his other first language growing up. Oh, cool. You speak French fluently too? Excellent. Tommy just rolled his eyes and nodded, suggesting that I go shower. I was more than willing to take him up on the offer. He has at least two, possibly three bathrooms in his penthouse alone. I tried the bathroom I'd used before (the modest one on the lower level), but for some reason it was locked. I wasn't willing to go to Tommy and beg him to unlock it, so I ascended the stairs instead. I walked through Tommy's bedroom, trying hard not to notice the rumpled sheets (still, at the sight, I couldn't help but wonder who he'd shared it with), and finally arrived at his bathroom. I'd always secretly wanted to use the master bath again anyways. The last time I used it I was so hungover I didn't know up from down.

Normally I would describe the scene to you, but you don't really care about that, and it's not really relevant. Plus you don't exactly want to hear about me showering anyways... But don't worry, I didn't bring it up for nothing. Me showering is actually very important aside from the obvious health and aesthetic reasons. It's important because, after I'd turned on the water, shed all my clothing, and was in the middle of washing my hair... I had an unexpected visitor.

I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count.

Yeah, it was Tommy. Oh, don't worry... Most producer-artist relationships aren't like ours at all. One can never be that indebted to one's producer. Unless your producer fancies himself Lou Pearlman or something; then you'd owe him your life and your royalties and your concert profits and your personal life and so on.

But, okay, that's a lie. The owing the producer thing. The Lou Pearlman thing is totally true. But anyways, one can. But generally producers don't... cross that line... Okay, sometimes. But most if not all accept other forms of payment than sexual favors (reputable ones, at least). Not that that's how I pay Tommy, although that would be a lot less costly. He gets a nice percent of my sales (10 or something, I believe. I got robbed, but he's just the best) and then half or so of my royalties in addition to what Georgia pays him. Besides, it's not like he really needs the money anyways. And the favors are really... just in addition, a benefit. Not really a perk or anything.

And I'm gonna shut up now before I make myself sound cheap. Most producers and artists aren't as close as me and Tommy. Especially the professionals. Let's just put it that way. We're so close, apparently, that Tommy stepped into the shower with me. I only noticed when I felt him almost slam into me from behind... Uh, I don't mean that in the hey, doggy-style, we almost had sex kinda way! I mean it more like he bumped into me from behind and kinda knocked me off balance a little. He was wearing clothes, just barely, but he was. He wrapped his arms around my stomach, pulling me closer to him. "I thought you'd be more excited to see me," He whispered, sounding a little whinier than I would've liked.

At this point, I was confused. Not that I wasn't before. I wanted to be like... Dude, I saw you two seconds ago, and you barged in on me in the shower... but I didn't. I was kind of frozen, actually, and you're wondering why I didn't freak out, right? It's because Tommy's seen me in various states of undress, including in his shower (I ought to mention that it is made of see-through glass)... completely nude. And vice-versa. Just the other day I caught the man in my shower at home. So that's why I didn't flip, although it was pretty damn scary. I don't exactly appreciate people sneaking up on me. It's a wonder I didn't karate-chop him.

I rolled my eyes at his choice of words. Puh-lease. I think it was pretty obvious which of us was the excited one there.

"I wasn't expecting you," I replied neutrally, wondering why he was there, intruding on my privacy. I gritted my teeth, vaguely despising him for it. Then again, I was also kind of excited. It was hot, him sneaking into the bathroom like that. His hands slipped down a little lower, then lower still. I wasn't wholly comfortable with that. "Tommy," I muttered firmly, a bit more sharply than intended, "don't." It came out almost absurdly breathily. No wonder he didn't take me serious. He didn't stop, so I grabbed his hands and removed them from my hips. "If you're going to be handsy, at least help me wash my hair," I quipped rather irritably. Admittedly, I should've probably kicked him out. Having him in there with me was too great of a temptation. But I might as well have him do it for me.

I could've sworn I heard him growl, but he did as requested. "Whatever you want," He sighed. I shuddered. He took the shampoo from the shelf, squeezed out a dollop, and started shampooing my hair. It felt really good, like a scalp massage. He was really good at it. The whole deal. He made sure none of it got in my eyes and washed out every little bit of the shampoo. I thought I was in the clear, but Tommy thought he was getting lucky. Obviously, you can see how that would be a problem.

Imagine my surprise when Tommy literally picked me up by the waist and whirled me around to face him. The embarrassment was indescribable. Well, actually, it was minimal, but I didn't like having to face him. I dunno how to explain it... It was just less... embarrassing if I didn't have to look at him. If he didn't see the front of me all out there. I'm not exactly that comfortable with my body. Tommy didn't stare, though; he barely even looked at me for a second before he swept me up in his arms, yes, swept, and planted one on me. We both got caught up in the moment, but Tommy was all over me, practically plastered to me. I wasn't wholly comfortable with the feeling.

Aside from the fact that this man will soon be family by marriage, there was something off about the moment. Especially when he pulled away from the kiss (yes, I know it should've been me!) and said... "Mmm, you even kiss like her." I was understandably confused. Like who? As far as I know, I only kiss like myself. Is he talking about my sister or something? He must've noticed my surprise, but he just kissed me again, which effectively obliterated all thoughts. Except there was a problem with this. The harder he kissed me, the grabbier he got. Okay, so he was practically mauling me, and I wasn't cool with that.

When I got the chance, I pushed Tommy back, off of me. "What's gotten into you, Tom?" I gasped out, feeling dirty all over again. It was the cheap kind of dirty, though. My skin was flushed, the water suddenly too hot. Tommy gave me this really lecherous look. He didn't have to say it; I knew what he was thinking. We both knew what had gotten into him. Well, actually, that was it, wasn't it? He wanted to get into me. But that didn't explain why he was suddenly there and saying I kiss like some mysterious woman.

He then pinned me up against the wall and started kissing me again. He was on me in a flash. I was bewildered to say the least, not to mention mildly alarmed. Okay, freaking terrified. I knew I had to get out of there before I did something stupid like rip Tommy's clothes off and ravish him. Either way I'd wind up giving in to him, and all the thoughts of my sister wouldn't be strong enough to stop it. "Tommy... no," I whispered, trying to melt into the wall. I couldn't move; I could barely even breathe. I didn't really mean it, but I had to get him off of me. He was so close I could barely think.

Tommy drew back a hair. The pressure against my skin lessened just barely. "Why are you being so feisty today? Normally you jump at the chance for a little... oblivion," He mumbled huskily. I shook my head, trying to get away from his lips. I could feel the warmth radiating off him. Tommy frowned at me. "Don't you want to forget?" He drawled, furrowing his brow in confusion. Truthfully, I did. I wanted to get lost in it and forget everything, every single one of the reasons why I shouldn't be here, doing this. But I couldn't do that, and I didn't really want to. I wanted to remember, and that was the problem. If I stayed, then it would happen. It couldn't happen.

I realize none of this makes any sense, but, pardon the pun, the recollections are foggy at best. I said nothing to this, and Tommy took my silence for an answer. He took that answer for a yes and moved in to kiss me again, but I thought faster. I moved my head to the side, ducking so he missed my face. Tommy scowled, looking about as confounded as I felt. His eyes were midnight blue with lust. "C'mon... pretend with me, Red," Tommy almost pleaded. His hands dug into my shoulders. Pretend what? That scared me, not knowing what exactly he wanted me to pretend. And since when has he ever called me Red?

That was enough to snap me out of it. I pushed Tommy back lightly and ducked under his arms, flinging open the shower door. I waded through the misty air, racing through the bathroom, skidding dangerously across the floor, snatching a towel off the towel rack on my way out. I wrapped it around myself tightly, knotting it. Damn. I was beginning to wish I hadn't left my clothes back in the bathroom. My sneakers were on the floor, but everything else was in the bathroom. I was left with two choices: 1. Returning to Tommy's bedroom to fetch clothes, 2. Leaving as I was. Or I could try the other rooms and see if I could find anything. I had to have left some clothing there. Obviously, Number Two wasn't an option. However, I ventured into the other bathroom nonetheless.

I was a bit surprised Tommy hadn't followed me, but maybe he understood. Maybe he was giving me time. Ha! Nah. Tommy doesn't know the meaning of the word. Unfortunately, I found no clothes in the bathroom. I was headed towards Tommy's mythical laundry room when something stopped me in my tracks. His penthouse is huge, and there are some parts I've never even been in before. Then, all of a sudden, this random door opened. A girl emerged from it. I'd never seen her before or been in the room.

But I have to assume it was yet another guest bedroom.

I didn't even know who she was, and she wasn't looking up, so I couldn't see her face. She was looking at something in her hand; she hadn't noticed me yet. I stood in the hallway, frozen in shock.

"Hey, Tommy... Are you ready yet? I want to f-" The girl proclaimed, walking straight into me. I should've moved out of her way, but, then again, she never should've been there in the first place. When she looked up and saw me, her jaw dropped. I don't know what she was thinking. Maybe she thought that Tommy was into some sort of threesome, or that I was the fiancée or whatever. Maybe she was even a little jealous or horribly embarrassed.

I'll tell you what she probably thought though, since it was what I was thinking. It was like looking into a mirror, staring at this girl, only I had no idea where the glass was. I thought Tommy had tricked me at first, that he was just messing with me. But the girl, my near mirror-image, was, unfortunately, all too real. I knew exactly how she was going to finish her sentence, and, with a glance, I knew what she was holding. It was a condom. A booty call, and while I was there! Can you believe the nerve of that guy?! Which of us had he lied to? And suddenly all the pieces fit together horribly.

It was like a jigsaw puzzle of... the worst thing you can think of. War, then. Something like that.

The rumpled sheets, messy from time no doubt spent with her... The sense I'd had that something was off... The uncharacteristic messiness... The locked bathroom door... And, of course, the ambush in the shower. Tommy was cohabitating with her, and obviously in a relationship/affair. It was her he'd been expecting, not me. Who is the mystery girl, you ask? This mystery girl who looks so very much like me.

I knew who she was. It was more of a suspicion, but I knew, deep down, that I was right.

For starters, I should say that she didn't look exactly like me. There were some differences in facial features, enough to make our faces look different enough that you could tell us apart rather easily. She had a bit of a different look than I did about her, either more childish or else more grown-up. The difference was pronounced, only I couldn't tell which one it was. She always did look younger than her years, though. She's only little younger than a year older than me, seventeen, almost eighteen. Almost, but not quite. Her hair's red, like mine, but a darker color, less vibrant, more brassy and auburn. Her eyes, like mine, are also blue, but a piercing, light blue, almost gray. Her skin was tan from prolonged work in the sun and darkly freckled. She's slightly taller than me, a little thinner, more womanly.

As well she should be, since she was pregnant once.

You look a little scared. You're wondering about the baby, aren't you? What happened to it? She miscarried, that's what happened. It was a girl, and her name was Charlotte. The mother, she was only thirteen or fourteen when she got impregnated. Fourteen, probably, since I'd like to imagine that they weren't flouting the law. It wasn't... They were living together and engaged. They would've gotten married if it hadn't gone horribly, horribly, horribly awry.

Honestly, I've heard a lot about her, this mythical girl, and she wasn't at all like what I was expecting. She seemed somewhat... subdued, which wasn't what you'd think, after the life she's had.

You're curious. You want to know who she is.

So I have a question for you.

Have you ever heard of Ruby McCartney? Does the name sound even remotely familiar?

I don't blame you if you haven't; you and I were only eleven or twelve when it happened. She's the girl I met in the hall. She's also Chaz Blackburn's ex-girlfriend, ex-lover, ex-fiancée, the ex-mother-of-his-child. Big scandal, I know. Chaz almost went to prison because of her. There was a huge trial, a huge court battle after her parents caught her and him in the act. Chaz was acquitted, just like O.J. And, once again, just like O.J., he did it. He wasn't that old, though. He was only just eighteen, and he really was in love with her. She kind of ruined his career, but it's been long-forgotten in the annals of time. Which is why neither of us remembered it.

She was also Tommy's latest conquest, chosen for her resemblance to me. Ew. I hate that that's true, and I hate that I had to tell you that. She was presently living with him, but I just thought that meant in his building, not in his actual apartment. I was appalled, to say the least, especially since she was wearing a skimpy pink slip of a negligee. You could've knocked me over with a feather to see her there.

She bit her lip and looked uncomfortable as well she should. I don't know if she knew who I was, but I sure knew who she was. "Well, well, you must be Ruby McCartney. I've heard a lot about you, you know," I replied drolly, forcing a painful smirk on my face. My statement was ambiguous; she suddenly looked suspicious and on guard, but she didn't say a word. I had not expected her to be quiet, to try and shy away from this. She looked ashamed at being caught here with Tommy. Maybe the ownership showed on my face, the sense that I belonged there. She must've felt like an interloper or something, but it soon became clear that she didn't know who the hell I was. Funny, that.

She didn't look at me in the eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest nervously. "So you must be the girlfriend, then?" She asked in a rush. I bristled and scowled back at her. Here was a girl so very similar to myself yet also so very different. She's been in my place, and yet I didn't feel sorry.

I shook my head hard. "It's fiancée," I snapped roughly, "And that would be my sister." I stiffened, straightening up to my full height. She seemed startled by this revelation, even a little guilty that Tommy was so close to being a married man. I felt a little thrill at that. She deserved it. Ruby looked up for the first time, giving me a look. It was the first time she'd really noticed me. She gave me a kind of dismissive look, like she wasn't impressed at all. I didn't understand why. If she was in love with Chaz, then why bother acting like a rival over Tommy?

"Then who are you?" She practically spat. Oh, sorry, am I intruding? I rolled my eyes at her. How can she not recognize my face? We practically share the same one! Fine. She wants to know who I am... She'll meet me. I straightened up, holding my neck high in the air.

I smirked, sticking out a free hand for her to grab with as much dignity as I could muster. Especially since I was only wearing a bath towel. "Jude Janis Harrison, the first ever Instant Star," I explained pridefully. I saw the disdain in Ruby's eyes, but I didn't care. It did, however, annoy me that she didn't shake my hand. She stared at it pointedly and looked away, disinterested. And then the bitch scoffed.

"I'm sure," She snorted, "that there are a million other girls out there just like you." Ha, but I'm serious. I rolled my eyes for what seemed like the millionth time. Yes, Ruby, including yourself. I crossed my arms over my chest, withdrawing my hand. Fine. I tried to be her friend, remember. I scowled at her darkly, and she rolled her eyes at me. "Like I care."

You'd think I was the older one from the way this conversation is going. I'll put it in terms she can understand. "You should. I'm Tommy's protégée, best friend, and going to kick both of your asses!" I snarled threateningly, moving towards her. Ruby looked me over again and found me lacking. She just laughed like it was the funniest thing she ever heard. Dumbass. I'm perfectly serious, and she'd know that if she saw what I did to Travis. But this girl just thinks I'm such a joke. Like she's so much better for only being a year older than me?

She placed her hands on her hips, looking for all the world like a glamorous whore. That's how Tommy likes 'em. So why's he bother with me? I'm certainly not glamorous. "Go home, Little Girl," Ruby drawled rudely. My jaw dropped. Oh, no, she didn't! She did not call me a little girl. She's only a year older than me! "This place is for big people. You belong with your dolls," She continued authoritatively. Man, is she nasty! How could Chaz have ever loved this bitch? She must've changed a lot since then. Wow, having a sexual relationship at a young age with an older man really does screw you up. A predatory grin crossed her thinner lips. "Maybe if you're lucky, you'll find a willing Ken doll. Too bad they're anatomically incorrect. Tommy most certainly isn't," She finished victoriously.

Oh, I hated her. So much. More than Sadie and Shay and... maybe even Eden... combined. But not more than Travis. No one do I hate that much. I glowered at her. "Trust me, I know," I hissed irritably. Ruby raised her eyebrows in disbelief, but the whore laughed nonetheless. "And you're really not one to talk, are you, Ruby? Last I checked, you were still seventeen. Now, I'm sure your parents must be wondering where you are, and I'm sure they'd be unhappy to find out that you've run away to be with Tom Quincy... in every sense of the word," I continued frostily. Ruby merely grinned, but I couldn't help but notice how she stiffened just a little. "Between him and Chaz, it's a wonder you haven't caught an STD. Don't you know how many other barely-legal little groupie whores Tommy's banged?" I retorted nastily, feeling a need to get back at her for her earlier annoying comments.

That was enough to make her almost lunge at me, but I was faster, despite my lack of clothing. "Other than you, you mean?" She shrieked virulently.

I glared daggers at her but refrained from hitting her. Okay, so I'd given her a veiled insult, but why does she care? We're getting into it about Tommy, not Chaz. "Why do you care about what I say about you and Tommy? You don't care about him! The both of you are just using each other anyways! And you're still in love with Chaz!" I screeched viciously. That was enough to stop Ruby in her tracks. It was true, and she knew that I'd gotten it straight from the horse's mouth, which gave me a whole new level of legitimacy. Her eyes narrowed, and she seemed to take me seriously for once.

Ruby pursed her lips. "How do you know that?" She asked quickly. I didn't answer because it's obvious. Then Ruby looked at me shrewdly. The corners of her lips curved up, and she started to laugh. She was flipping amused! "Oh. I get it. You're in love with Little Tommy Q! That's cute!" Ruby exclaimed mockingly, suggesting I had no chance with him. Wow, I was losing all sympathy for her fast. I didn't say anything to confirm or deny it, but I sure scowled at her.

I tried to regain my pride. "Well, actually, I prefer to call him Lover," I quipped sardonically. Or Beloved. Or Adored. Or Love of My Life. Or my world. Or Dreamboat. Or Babe. Or Baby. Or Honey. Or Sexy. Or Love. Or Hot Stuff. Or Babesicle. Or Hottie-Hot-Hottie. Or Angel. Or Angelface. Or Babyface. Or Sugar. Or Sweetie. Or Sunshine. Or Dreamsicle. Or Prince Tommy. Or T. Or Big T. Or Dude. Or Dog. Or Homie. Or Comrade. Or Man. Or Boy. Or Big Boy. Or TQ. Or Little Tommy. Or LTQ. Or Jay-Jay. Or Producer. Or Producer-Man. Or Quince. Or Q. Or Tommikins. Or Tommy-Whommy. Or Tom-Tom. Or Quincy. Or Pedophile. Or Asshole. Or Jackass. Or Dumbass. Or Lazyass. Or Stupidass. Or Bastard. Or Ass. Or Badass. Or Dick. Or Jerk. Or Jerkwad. Or J.T. Wannabe. Or Teenybop. Or Dickwad. Or Dingbat. Or Dung Beetle. Or Idiot. Or Moron. Or Stupid. Or Manwhore. Or Manhole. Or Whore. Or Slut. Or Harlot. Or Tramp. Or Thomas. Or Saint Tommy. Or Tom. Or Tommy.

Ruby shot me a dirty look, but then she straightened and looked victorious, as if my statement confirmed everything she had ever thought of me. Not that she had ever thought of me. She didn't even know who I was, and I didn't know whether to be angry or pleased with that fact. "Don't talk about things you don't understand, Ruby," I snapped, too tired of this argument, her, and Tommy to bother with it any longer. She didn't understand, not like I thought she would.

That cruel smile appeared again on her face, and I saw no traces of innocence left in her. Chaz and Charlotte had stripped her of all that, and now she was just an empty shell of a person. She was just another mean, cruel, judgmental girl who didn't get it. "So you're Tommy's little schoolgirl jailbait, huh? The one I'm supposed to replace... because you aren't legal. How old are you, just shy of fourteen?" She drawled amusedly. I glowered at her, stiffening, but I didn't say a word. A breath would be wasted on her, even a single one. Especially when she was trying to make me mad. "He always gave Chaz such crap about us, but here it turns out he's no better," Ruby continued with a harsh laugh. She could say anything she wanted about me, anything at all. Hell, I might even believe it. But when she could say something like that about Tommy so icily, Tommy who had done so much for her, that was my breaking point.

He helped Chaz out, hid it for him, supplied him with places to take her. He kept their dirty little secret to himself, never told a soul. He got his mother to defend Chaz when charges were brought up against him. He lied in court to be Chaz' alibi. He saved her beloved's life. He checked in on her, informed her about Chaz. He was letting her stay with him, and I know he helped her with money. To top it all off, he even tried to comfort her, even if he did it in the wrong way... and he didn't care if she pretended he was Chaz. Ruby liked it, though. If she didn't, she wouldn't be standing here in his apartment in a negligee. And she was so unbelievably ungrateful about it all. I couldn't believe it.

Before I knew what I was doing, I'd slapped her hard across the face. "How dare you say something like that about Tommy! Tommy, of all people, who has done so much for you! This is how you repay him, maligning his name and calling him a pedophile?!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, nearly shaking with rage. I can recall being that angry very few times in my life, most of them either involving Sadie or Travis. But I was not done yet. "He is better than that... a hell of a lot better than someone like you will ever know! Tommy never had sex with me, Ruby! And that is why he is better than Chaz. Tommy can resist temptation," I growled venomously, feeling as poisonous as a cobra. I was willing to bite her for him; it would've given me great pleasure.

Ruby gasped at first, clutching her cheek. She was in shock, unable to believe what had just happened. I took advantage of this to move back. She was still absorbing it all, trying to make sense of it fruitlessly. She lacked the gumption to look ashamed of herself, as she should've. Then again, how could she? She had no shame left, growing up with the stigma of teenage pregnancy and the fact that she'd almost ruined a good man hanging over her head. She felt no debt or gratitude towards Tommy; she felt very little at all. I don't know why I told her that personal detail. I didn't need her to know, and I didn't want her to know. But she had to know, needed to know that Tommy was not like Chaz. That Tommy was not weak.

That Tommy was not a predator, and that he had not and would not... make me like her. I didn't want to be like her one bit: completely miserable and a whore drowning my/herself in the arms of a man I didn't love.

Finally, she straightened, letting all the astonishment drop right off her face. She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and let out a huge, high laugh, making it clear how little she thought of the both of us. She didn't believe me, but why would I lie? Why would I tell this hoyden I hadn't screwed Tommy if it wasn't true? Unless she thought I thought she was going to tell the cops, but I knew she wouldn't. She didn't hate me that much; she cared far too little.

I shook my head in sorrow, feeling pity for her. She'd been so messed up that she no longer understood that there could be pure, nonsexual relationships. Not that my particular relationship with Tommy isn't at all sexually charged. It is, to an alarming level, even. I won't argue with that. But I've never had sex with him. And that's all that really matters. I haven't ruined him yet.

Or ever.

I won't.

Really.

Like I was saying, I thought it was terrible that she didn't understand what love could and should be. She didn't understand that it could be... sweet and pure and uncomplicated... unrequited too... But it was like she'd completely forgotten that it existed, so bitter was she that she couldn't be with Chaz. She didn't get that I could just love Tommy. That not every relationship had to be sexual. And that maybe I wasn't ready to have sex with him at all, to give that most intimate part of myself to h-someone. She'd given that part of her away so long ago, wholehearted, and it had all blown up in her face. So now she... what? Gave it up meaninglessly to anyone who said the right words and did the right things? I was not so cheap; some things were still priceless to me.

"You don't get it. It isn't like that with Tommy and me. I think it's terribly sad that you can't understand that," I disagreed quietly, feeling a sudden sharp pain in my heart. "Love and sex are two very different things, and love is pure. Love does not fade like lust, when the blinders of attraction have fallen off, the glow has faded; the hungry need quenched, and all is exposed... the beautiful and the ugly, vice and virtue... when every bit of the person, his heart and his mind and his soul,not his body, lies naked before you. Looking upon that, knowing him through and through, the bad and the good, and still liking what you see, not wanting to forsake him... that is love, and it is eternal. True love is not so easily forgotten," I murmured passionately, getting caught up in the intensity of my words. I meant every one, meant them so hard that it hurt me, cut me a little deeper to say them thus, but there was no other way to express it. I wished he was around to hear them, the words I could never say to his face, but I was never that lucky, and today was no different.

I'd almost forgotten Ruby when I suddenly realized I wasn't breathing. My little speech had left me breathless; I couldn't look her in the eyes. I looked up, forcing my eyes to harden, vanished the softness from my face, willing my voice to turn steady, abandoning the breathy, intensely raspy whisper I'd adopted earlier. "I know what you think of me, and I don't care one whit. But Tommy will never sink that low so long as I have breath left in my body," I promised furiously, staring her down to make sure she understood. She probably didn't, but I'd said my piece.

And now there was nothing left to say.

I was sick of the showdown, but, even more so, I was sick of being there in their damn little lovenest. Ugh. Like I wanted to think about the two of them going at it like rabbits! She was far more experienced than me, that was for sure. I hated her so much then that the blood boiled in my veins at the mere thought of her with Tommy, locked in any sort of embrace, let alone a passionately sexual one.

And now I needed to leave before I did something stupid. I whirled around, momentarily forgetting that I was only wearing a towel, and padded towards the exit. I was just down the hallway, crossing through Tommy's living space when I felt nails digging in to my forearm. Ruby ripped me around, yes, ripped. The anger had finally set in. Her nails scraped hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to pain me, but the bitch didn't care. She just dug in harder, wanting to hurt me. Why? I wasn't carrying on with the love of her life! You know, Chaz. She's not carrying on with the love of my life, obviously, because that would be ridiculous.

She shook her head. "Don't say Chaz isn't better than Tommy. Chaz is a real man. Tommy makes pretensions, but he's not around if you need him. Chaz stepped up to the plate. He's a man of his word, which is more than any woman, you included, can say for Tommy," Ruby hissed icily. I raised an eyebrow, trying not to flinch. Her grip hadn't loosened. Since when were we comparing Tommy and Chaz to see which one was the better man? Neither of them are really that great on the gray scale of morality. I tried to shrug away from her touch, but she held firm.

My rage grew every second her nails pierced my skin as she waited for me to give an answer. She didn't deserve it, but she'd get one nonetheless. "Well, if Chaz was so great, then maybe you should stop having sex with his best friend and go beg for his forgiveness instead!" I countered loudly, teeth flashing. I knew Chaz was a nice guy; I just wished she'd get her head out of her ass and stop betraying him like this. Tommy wasn't a helpless victim. He knew better, but Ruby had to stop it because Tommy wouldn't. Not for my sister, and most certainly not for me. If not her, then it'd be someone else. Ruby was just worse because of her age and the fact that his best and oldest friend was in love with her.

Ruby's grip loosened. Her whole face tightened, making her look much older than her seventeen years. She knew I was right, but she was too ashamed to admit it. For the longest time we stood there in silence, her hand still on my arm, but no longer clenching it. Neither of us had anything to say to one another, or, rather, she couldn't think of a damn thing to say. "You are not one to lecture me. If you really love Tommy so much, you would fight for him! Love, above all things, is worth fighting for," Ruby retorted stiffly. Note that I have never said anything about loving Tommy. And hasn't she ever heard that some things are worth waiting for? But I'm not waiting for someone like Tommy to come around. I know better than that; guys like him never do. And, sometimes, if you really love something, it's better to let it go... so that it can be happy and safe, even if you aren't... and, if it loves you back, it'll return to you.

None of these, are, of course, applicable to Tommy. He definitely doesn't love me. I swear, I don't know where anyone gets that idea!

Love is worth fighting for, though. Ruby just can't take her own advice. And sometimes you have to fold. Ruby doesn't get it, because there's never been another girl in Chaz' heart. She's just a coward. But I do. And I'm not going to be selfish. I just shook my head. She had no idea what she was talking about. "Take your own advice, Ruby," I mumbled tiredly over my shoulder, turning my back on her and walking towards the door once again. I suddenly remembered that I'd forgotten my shoes, so I turned and ran to get them. When I was halfway there, I slipped on... nothing... my feet, maybe? I thought for sure that I was a goner. That I was gonna fall and crack my head and everything, so I instinctively closed my eyes, bracing myself for the fall.

The fall, of course, never came. When I opened my eyes, I was staring right back into Tommy's. I gasped a little and drew back, but then he planted one on me messily. His arms were wrapped around me tightly, drawing me flush against him, bringing me down so low my hair almost touched the ground. Then Tommy pulled back, shooting me a sly grin. "I was wondering where you'd run off to," He replied, looking me over hungrily. I was kind of at his mercy, so I couldn't really move much. Yes, I know it's hard for you to believe that I am really just an innocent victim in this and that Tommy Quincy seizes me and kisses me all the time, but it's the truth.

I'm not going to say I didn't respond, but it was kind of just BAM! He was there and POW. I don't want him like that, though. I can't, even if I did. And I don't. Tommy's a good kisser, though, so it's kind of hard not to respond. Seriously, I am not kidding about this. Best kisser ever, and I've kissed like, um... Hm, Tommy, Shay, Jamie, Speed, Wally, Tim, Travis, Chaz, Mason, and Taylor. Wow, ten guys. I'm like... a kissing slut.

Tommy grinned, taking me in with hungry eyes. He couldn't tear himself away. "So glad you haven't dressed yet... Means I can do this," He murmured, sliding his hand under my towel and up my skin. I reflexively slapped it away, flushing all the way up to my roots. "I like it when you're wet." I know... you're disgusted too. That kinda made my spine crawl a little. I managed to push him away from me, straightening up so that I could stand. After all that, he still thought I was Ruby?

I backed away nervously, planting my hands on my hips. "Wow, Tommy," I said, completely disgusted, "You've gotten so used to the cheap imitation that you don't know the real thing when you see it." I shot him a glare, feeling dirty once again. Tommy's eyes widened in shock. If he had an embarrassed bone in his body, you would've seen it, but Tommy feels no shame. I gestured over to Ruby, who stood watching us in her skimpy attire. Tommy's eyes followed my finger. "There's Ruby, Tom. So run to her and have your little quickie. I am out of here," I replied coolly, turning towards the exit. Screw the shoes. I just needed to get out.

He grabbed my arm, face contorting in some strange, pinched emotion. I didn't want an explanation. No explanation would be enough to make me understand what I already knew. He shot me a pleading look, forcing me to stay a little longer, but I would not cave. And rightly so! I was completely sickened by the whole situation. I didn't belong there! I was really the outsider, the interloper, and it was better if I just left them all alone. I shook my head, hating even to look at the sight of him. "No. I'm leaving, Tom. It's not my place to be here. You've got Ruby and Sadie and a million other girls to keep your bed warm. You sure as hell don't need me," I retorted icily. He clutched at my wrist tightly. "What part of I'm gone don't you understand, Tom?!" I growled, jerking my wrist free from his grip.

"Let me explain," Tommy begged, holding me there with his eyes. That man has a Svengali-like power over me, with all the personal magnetism and sexual allure these figures lack in reality. I shook my head, holding myself high, as dignified as I could, cutting him off before he could say more. Mere words aren't good enough.

I glared at him with quickly darkening eyes, burning into him accusingly. "I'm not wearing your ring, Tommy. You don't have to explain a damn thing to me," I snapped viciously, resisting the urge to slap him upside the face. I turned around, eyes still narrowed. Then I walked towards the door quickly and deliberately. Tommy caught up with me, of course, which was beginning to get wearying. He inserted himself between me and the door.

Wow. That sounds dirty.

I shook my head, pushing him away yet again. I couldn't stand to stay there one second longer. "Oh, get over it!" I barked shortly, feeling my cheeks flush with annoyance. "I'm not your type, so it would never work out. You just want me because you know it's wrong, and... You can't have me," I continued logically, even a bit fiercely. "You can't," I affirmed stubbornly. Tommy gave me a challenging look, silently asking what his type was with his eyes. "Easy,Tom. Your type is easy, and that is one thing I am not," I stated bluntly, letting my words fall like a bomb. "That's why it'll never work." That was enough to make him pull back just enough, so I opened the door and proceeded to go out into the hall. What a one-sided conversation. I shook my head in disapproval, holding myself up with as much pride as I could muster.

And then I opened the door and stepped out without hesitation. I slammed the door behind me, glad to be leaving. It hurt to stay, and I wasn't going to be around to witness him with Ruby. Damn him and my weakness for lost causes.

Comes with the territory, you know, being St. Jude and all that.

Now, as if catching my dear producer (although he's damn near a bro-ducer) mid-liaison with a barely-legal copy of myself wasn't horrible enough, in addition to the other indignities I'd suffered that day, it was about to get worse. Horribly so.

You didn't think that could be possible, but, lo, it is!

While walking down the cool hallway, in my breezy little white "dress" of a towel, I remembered my sheer lack of clothing. It was vaguely embarrassing, but I've suffered worse. Probably. My life is one giant string of embarrassments, you see. Plus, I highly doubted I would be the first woman to leave Tommy's apartment in such a state. I figured people would either assume, as they always do, that I had slept with him, which is nothing new, or, even better, that he'd tired of me and had thrown me out immediately preceding coitus. Sadly, Tommy is actually cold-blooded enough to do such a thing. I know he wouldn't do that to me, but still... He's turned out a rather long and illustrious series of bimbos in his day. I was sure not to be the first.

But, unfortunately, it was also the richest neighborhood in Toronto, and I'd left my money in my jeans, along with my jewelry, and everything else I held dear, except the earrings, which, oddly enough, I had never removed. However, I could always pay with the earrings, if the embarrassed passerby were unwilling to do me a favor. Somehow, I doubted they would need the payment. This is, after all, Canada.

By that I mean that the people here are generous, not your typical asshole city people who don't give a damn about anyone except themselves.

Excepting Tommy, of course, 'cause he lives that hedonism...

I was, as you can see, rather lost in my thoughts. Naturally, that meant I wasn't even remotely paying attention to the path in front of me. I wasn't in much of a hurry to leave, as Tommy wasn't exactly following me along and showed no signs that he would give chase. His building, as usual, was deserted, so I wasn't embarrassed or worried about what the neighbors would think.

Not that I've ever been one to care what people might think.

Okay, so it sounds like I care, a lot... But it's only when they accuse me of doing stuff I haven't done. I don't like labels. And I've been labeled a bad-girl whore. Next thing you know, I'll become Young Hollywood, and random celebrities will be denouncing me and calling me a drug addict and a party girl... and, as you can see, then I'd get jail time and rehab and they'd take my kids away or something. Oh, right. Don't have kids. But as you can see, clearly, life just degenerates with paparazzi pressure.

How easily it can spiral completely out of your control.

Like me. I mean, you kiss your producer once in front of thousands on international TV, and suddenly you're a whore who opens her legs to anyone! I swear, in one week I went from doing Shay to Tommy to Boyz! Attack to Mason!

So I was thinking about that... and other stuff, personal, private crap... And BAM! Guess who I ran into in Tommy's building?

Oh, right. You have no idea because it was supposedly deserted. Well, it could've been worse. Nah, no, it couldn't have. 'Cause if I ran into Sadie, my sister, she'd have been heartbroken and probably definitely dumped him. Running into Chaz did not have the same affect. That was obviously worse. So, yeah, I ran into Chaz Blackburn. Talk about awkward.

Honestly, I was just glad the towel stayed on. It falling would've been more embarrassing than anything Chaz could've ever done.

His eyes widened when he saw me, as I'm sure mine did when I saw him. There was a little shock there, but a lot more horror (on my part), as I knew full well what Chaz was going to catch Tommy at. Now, Tommy might've deserved such an ugly fate, but I was going to do anything in my power to save his ass. It would all be better if Chaz never got to see Tommy. Chaz wouldn't go to jail or get a broken heart; Tommy wouldn't die, and Ruby, much as I dislike her policies, wouldn't get humiliated. As if the sight of Chaz alone hadn't surprised me enough, what he did next did. Beyond words. And mortification such as I have rarely known.

Tommy and Chaz think a lot alike, so it shouldn't have surprised me that he too mistook me for Ruby. Imagine! He hasn't seen the love of his life for so long that he doesn't even know her face! For a second, he stared at me with dark, hungry eyes and then... Also, like Tommy, Chaz overwhelmed me practically upon sight with an overly passionate kiss that I was wholly unprepared for.

Talk about a warm welcome.

Now, it's not that I haven't kissed Chaz before, because I have, of course. A couple of times. Once when I was really nervous, one time to just to piss Tommy off, a few times when he thought I was Ruby, and there was this one moment right before the premiere of that awful trashy song... But, you see, nothing really with any great degree of passion. So I was kind of... Hit by it, caught rather off-guard in a most unattractive way.

And then my back hit the wall, and Chaz was practically glued to me, and I started wiggling. Never do that if you are in such a situation, especially if you are wearing as little clothing as I was then. It only antagonizes things, excites them further. I soon realized this flaw in my thought processes and stopped struggling momentarily, to get my thoughts together. I managed to collect myself a bit, and, panting, I broke away from Chaz and pushed him off of me. Vaguely disgusted, I swiped at my lips, adjusting my towel anxiously under Chaz' piercing stare.

I was freezing, flushing to my roots, and I felt damn near naked. I didn't like the predatory way Chaz was looking at me, like he wanted to swallow me whole. I swallowed hard and tried to force the terrible look off my face. "While it's nice to see you too, Chaz, I question the necessity of such an enthusiastic welcome," I remarked rather irritably. At this point, it hadn't exactly occurred to me that he still thought I was Ruby. Remember, he knew her better than I did, so this glibness didn't exactly surprise him.

To my shock, Chaz glowered at me. He looked quite possibly the angriest I'd ever seen him. "How can you say something like that? After all those years? After all that we shared, you reduce it to that... some insignificant little comment," He growled, clenching his fists. I hadn't known Chaz to be capable of any passion whatsoever, but I guess Ruby brought out that part in him. Or she killed it, and, now, since he thought I was Ruby, it had been resurrected.

I wanted to wince at his anger, at how damn unpredictable he looked. He was half-crazed. "Chaz, I'm Jude. Not Ruby," I said coolly, straightening up a little to cover how flustered and afraid I actually was. I didn't know what the hell Chaz was going to do to me! I had half a mind that he was gonna slap me silly! I crossed my arms over my chest. Obvious defensive maneuver. For my own sanity, I generally tried to avoid looking at him. Finally, though, when the silence became too awkward, I had to look.

Let me tell you, Chaz was about twice as red as I could ever be. Even twice as red as my hair! He looked down nervously, biting his lip and saying nothing. His feet were suddenly fascinating. I rolled my eyes. Okay, awkward situation. The Situation to End All Awkward Situations. Big freaking deal. I'd dealt with worse than that. So I cleared my throat, adjusting my posture, and began to speak. "What are you doing here, Chaz?" I didn't ask from curiosity. I asked to know why he was there because I needed to keep him out. That was the mission I was devoted to now.

Chaz didn't look at me. He refused, clearly ashamed of what he'd done. "I needed to talk to Tommy about the album. I just wrote a new song," He replied quietly, cheeks still red. I nodded patiently. Not exactly urgent. Maybe, just maybe, I could deter him. "I wanted his opinion on it." I nodded supportively. Okay, I could get that. It was the same way with me. Tommy was- is- always the first person I run to.

I held my breath, and Chaz finally looked up, eyes filled with a million silent apologies. "Look, Jude, I'm sorry I... Did that. I shouldn't have assumed..." Damn straight. Never assume, Lily. It just makes an ass out of you and me. Or, in this case, me and Chaz. I nodded briefly, barely glancing at him. "I thought you were..." At this, I shot him a dark glance that made it plain that I knew exactly what he was about to say. Like I'd forgotten my resemblance to Ruby in all ways except personality. Chaz stopped lamely at that, mustering up the nerve to finish his already-stupid apology. "I shouldn't have assaulted you like that. It wasn't right of me." Or gentlemanly, I added mentally. "I'm sorry," He finished quite pathetically.

I was tempted sorely to roll my eyes at him.

Nonetheless, I nodded anyways and "forgave" him. Then Chaz suddenly noticed my attire, although I'd known he'd noticed it earlier. He hadn't minded then or wondered why I was in Tommy's hall, only wearing a towel. Hell, he would've thought that was easier! He only wanted to get some action, so he didn't even notice that I was obviously out of sorts. "Why are you in Tommy's hallway, only wearing a towel?" Chaz asked slyly, in a sing-songy sort of voice. He gave me a suspicious look that concealed thinly veiled lust. For the millionth time, I'm not Ruby!!!

I shot him a look that could've melted Tommy's ice-cold heart, if only because of the intense hateful heat. Obviously I didn't want to discuss it, and it wasn't as if I didn't know exactly what he thought I was doing there. He was just like everyone else. Now, I realize how suspicious that looks, but, still, it'd be nice for someone to have a little faith in me! Just for once! "That, my dear, is a story for another day," I retorted airily, changing the subject. Chaz merely chuckled and shook his head, deciding it was better to leave it alone. He was, of course, right.

He rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and strolled towards the door. That's when I knew I had to stop him. I raced after him, feeling myself flush. Unfortunately, running got me all... breezy, which meant I was freezing. I skidded to a stop only seconds before I would've run into Chaz. I then insinuated myself between him and the door. It wasn't exactly healthy for my sanity, being pressed up against him like that, but it was what had to be done. "I don't think you wanna go in there." Chaz raised an eyebrow. "Tommy's redecorating. It's completely awful in there. Huge mess."

I could've smacked myself. That was the best I could come up with? Why didn't I just say he was sleeping or having sex or not decent? Oh, right, because Chaz has been there through all of them.

Chaz shook his head. "Really? I didn't know... Tommy normally likes to brag about his home improvement efforts." That was not what I wanted to hear. But Chaz thought it over for a minute, and he still decided to go inside. "But I've seen it worse, probably. Tommy always likes to keep things neat, so it probably won't be a big mess," Chaz stated casually. Sometimes I hated how well he knew Tommy; he had the advantage of years of intimacy on me. That sounds weird and kind of gay, but Tommy's known Chaz since childhood, and they lived in pretty close quarters for all those years in Boyz Attack!. That's much longer than he's known me.

I shook my head insistently, not moving from my place in front of the door. "No, seriously, Chaz. Don't go in there. There's stuff hanging down from the ceiling and holes in the walls and the walls are all primed... Oh! And the flooring can't be disturbed, since the varnish is drying!" I interjected, flashing an anxious smile. I realize now how suspicious that sounds, especially since I came out in a towel and Tommy was still in there. Obviously he couldn't be there, you know, if he was really redecorating.

Chaz' eyes narrowed in disbelief. That was when he started to realize that something about the whole situation didn't add up. He said nothing, though, merely tried to open the door. Surprisingly he didn't even point out my logical fallacies. I pushed his hand aside stubbornly. I wasn't going down without a fight. "Tommy's not there, Chaz." Chaz shot me a look, clearly not believing a word of it. "He's downstairs, in one of the other apartments. He's... sleeping."

It was the middle of the afternoon, so obviously Tommy wasn't sleeping. For some reason, each lie that came out of my mouth was increasingly ridiculous. Then again, I wasn't exactly thinking that sensibly. My only thought was making sure Chaz didn't walk in that room and catch Tommy in the act. He glared at me briefly. "My ass, Jude! You're up to something!" He exclaimed irritably. I tried to look as innocent as possible, but Chaz wasn't buying it. "And I'm going to find out what it is, no matter what you try to do," He muttered determinedly. I gulped hard, pressing myself into the door even further, blocking the doorknob from his grip. Not if I can put a stop to it! Chaz' face twisted into a horrific grimace. "What, afraid I'm gonna catch Tommy with his pants down?" Chaz quipped cruelly.

He was more right than he knew, and that showed on my face. Chaz saw it, but didn't comprehend it. He thought I meant it in the way that I'd just left Tommy there, kind of halfway suspended, mid-moment. He thought I'd... That I was either in the middle of being with Tommy, or that I was just leaving him. That showed on Chaz' face, that stupid little disrespectful smirk. He gave me this mocking look like I was cheaper than dirt, as if he'd suddenly lost all respect for me. It was an awful look, and I'd have never expected it from him. But what he said afterwards was, perhaps, even worse.

"Sorry to ruin your first little tryst with Tommy, Jude. Really, I am. I know it's a once-in-a-lifetime experience; Tommy'll show you a wild time, all right, and it'll be fun while it lasts. He'll hold out, drag it out a little... Pleasure fades. You won't be able to stop thinking about it, I'm sure, for the rest of your days. But remember, Tommy won't be there when you wake up in the morning. And he won't call. Or care. But the memories of him will hang around you, haunting you like a ghost, and you'll relive the moments in your head so much that they'll cease to be real, and you'll think you've imagined them all. And then you'll lose your mind and be driven to desperation. So, excuse me for interrupting one of those fleeting moments of happiness in your soon-to-be ruined life. I know you've been looking forward to this ever since the day you met him. But I really can't wait, and you've got five minutes left in you. I've seen Tommy more undone than I'm sure he is right now. So don't say he's not presentable. Besides, he wasn't ever that presentable anyways," Chaz ranted bitterly, venomously sarcastically, so harshly that I felt stripped bare and violated. He thought so little of me.

I could only gape at him, astonished, wondering what the hell it all meant. He hadn't treated Sadie like this, and he actually liked her, wanted her even, a little. And what was I to him? He didn't want me. All I was was a reminder of Ruby. Did he not like to think that she'd been soiled? Or did he think of me like a little sister?

Or was it all just another Tommy thing? He sounded so awfully bitter about it, so jaded, voice too full of experience. And maybe he was. He'd probably seen it hundreds of times, how Tommy had messed so many girls up. But he sounded like he was tired of people bitching about it, whining to him about how Tommy had broken their hearts. And Chaz didn't want to hear it. Where had my supportive friend gone? Now all I had left was the broken man who knew Tommy better than anyone. I knew he was right. About a lot of things.

But I wasn't going to lose my mind. Not over Tommy. I don't care how much of a heartbreaker is, or how many other girls he'd made crazy. I wasn't going to completely lose it because of him. I'm not like those girls. I have a backbone. A brain. And... I don't need him. He doesn't consume me.

And did Chaz seriously think that just having sex with Tommy one time would ruin me for good?

Because I think he's already ruined my life without doing that. It's not like no one'll want me because of this thing with Tommy. His own brother wants me, for crying out loud!

But it's like Chaz thought I was completely worthless now because he perceived me to have had sex with Tommy. Or to have almost done that. And all the respect and care was gone, and I didn't know why. Is that why Chaz liked me? Because he thought I resisted Tommy so fiercely where no one else had?

He was wrong.

And maybe he was jealous. Maybe that was it.

I was numb with shock, completely silent for one of the first times in my whole life. What could I possibly say to that? It was wholly unexpected.

He pushed me then, pulling me away from the doorknob before throwing open the door violently, carelessly. Since the door was open, and there was nothing to support me, I went stumbling back into the room with him. In fact, I landed flat on my back on the floor. I hit the back of my head on the floor and was momentarily dizzy. Luckily, though, I'd pulled Chaz with me. Unfortunately, this meant he landed on top of me uncomfortably hard and knocked all the breath out of me. And that he was a lot closer to me than I was comfortable with. Chaz, flushing more than me, sought to get off of me as soon as possible, but I had other plans.

Okay, originally I didn't.

I just knew I had to stop him from getting up. Especially since my ears prickled, catching the sound of a light feminine laugh and a low masculine groan. Tommy and Ruby. Ugh. I hugged Chaz then, suddenly, to keep him from getting up and seeing the two. He would get even more angry. I knew they had to be nearby. I could sense them nearby, but I knew they hadn't seen either of us stumble in or heard the door swing open. Chaz stared at me, big brown eyes wide and filled with confusion. Then he frowned and tried to draw back, but I merely held him closer. I wasn't about to let him get away. I saw the disgusted look on his face, and it made me want to cry. He thought I was nothing more than a two-bit whore.

But I forced myself to ignore that. There were bigger, more important things to worry about than what Chaz thought of me. "Oh, Chaz!" I murmured softly, clutching him to me. I didn't want to say something hopelessly corny so that I wouldn't be able to respect myself. As you can see, respectability is a problem with me. "I..." Well, I couldn't think of one damn thing to say, so I remembered that actions were stronger than words, grabbed his lapels, and planted a fierce one on him. I tried to keep kissing him as long as I could, inhaling him like air or whatever.

Chaz pulled away, sickened. He was about to say something and screw up even further. "I want you, Chaz. Only you. Screw Tommy, okay... I want you," I breathed, gasping. You know, I would've never thought those words would come out of my mouth. They weren't true, but I sure made Chaz believe they were. Ew. I think I'm a better actor than my boyfriend, actually. Life necessitates that, I guess. I grabbed him and practically shoved my tongue down his throat. Chaz was objecting a lot less, which I guess was good for me. Maybe it was the fact that I'd said I didn't want Tommy or that I looked so much like the girl he really wanted. Something made him give in to me, something unwise and untrustworthy in him, utterly stupid.

And then I was tugging at his clothes, attached to him by the lips, trying to belie how horribly uncomfortable I was. Either way, it worked. Chaz, never the most observant of men, didn't seem to notice. Unlike Tommy. Tommy would've noticed, but of course I couldn't think about him. Chaz would notice that. And I was really hoping that he didn't undo the towel. A lot. More than a lot... And next thing I know, I'm practically straddling Chaz, and then his shirt's all unbuttoned, and then it's on the floor, and I'm trying not to panic but I keep hearing Ruby's laughter in my ears and Tommy's low moan in my head and he's putting my fingers on his belt buckle and I can't think straight because I'm on the edge of a nervous breakdown and if I do, I won't be able to keep it together enough to do what I have to do.

And I was really hoping what I had to do didn't involve losing my virginity to Chaz.

Then again, I wouldn't be the first teenage redhead with the last name of a Beatle to lose it to Chaz.

But, of course, since such a plan was hopelessly flawed from the start, it was destined to fail miserably. Chaz' hands were all over me... I don't like to talk about it much. Or at all, really. It's easier not to think about it, to think what I did for such undeserving people. I didn't like the feeling of those hands, but at least he wasn't impudent enough to stick them underneath the towel. Not yet, not then. I tried not to concentrate on those feelings, to pretend like I really enjoyed it, and I made sure to gasp and moan in all the right places, and to bend my neck just the right way so he had easier access and didn't have to strain himself. Like a well-trained whore. Sometimes, you know, I think I'm really no better than what they say I am.

You don't want to hear this, though. It's a valuable lesson, of course, of the power a woman can wield over a man. Never forget that. It's a very useful power to have, even if using charm against men makes you feel like a whore or a tease or a flirt. And then Chaz's belt was suddenly undone, and I couldn't breathe. I froze for a second and just stared at him, this strange man beneath me. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to do anything. But whatever it takes... Whatever it takes. I just had to push all of those thoughts aside into a little box so I would think about them later.

I managed to snap out of it enough to unfreeze myself, to throw myself back down on top of Chaz, trailing kisses from his jaw to his neck. And then, I don't know, something went horribly wrong. Horribly, terribly, awfully so wrong. Chaz slipped his hand up my thigh under the towel, just barely, not half so bad as Tommy had done earlier. I hated the feeling, but I pushed that down, locked it away inside of me. Chaz groaned, and I knew then what he obviously wanted. It was just weird to think that, in that moment, he wanted me. "Bed," He muttered distractedly.

To say I was nervous would've been an understatement, but I have a fortunate aura of bravura about me. So the boldness kind of masks everything else. It makes it seem like I know full well what I'm doing and don't go around just jumping into things, which I do. Obviously I couldn't let him get to a bed. There was no way we'd avoid Tommy and Ruby that way. He was starting to get up, and I couldn't risk him seeing them. I accidentally bit his neck in surprise nonetheless. "No," I hissed, pushing him down. I broke away from him only long enough to fix him with a coquettish glance and a decidedly sultry smile. "I like it better here. I want to feel my back against the wood," I whispered seductively, demandingly.

Chaz raised an eyebrow, but I'd kissed him again before he could utter one more syllable. Like that would've been enough. I knew what Chaz wanted. So when he flipped me over, I tried not to make a sound, tried not to be hit by the surrealism of the moment, the fact that I was about to... on the floor... and with Tommy only meters away? Anything for the cause. Well... I don't know. Honestly, I have no clue what I would've done had Chaz not... I don't think I would've gone through with it, at any rate. I don't think I could've. But no matter. It didn't happen, so there's no point in going over the what-ifs.

You know, this is the most honest I've really been with anyone. In weeks. I would never tell anyone this. It's embarrassing, and it doesn't exactly make me look good. It makes me look slutty and desperate and dirty and rotten, and all those things I like to pretend I'm not. Man, I can't even imagine what you must think of me right now.

But I have to finish the story. I can worry about that later. Right now, I just need to get this off my chest. And, of course, you're dying to know what happened with Chaz, right?

Well, you are. Even if you won't admit it.

Basically, this is what happened.

Chaz sat up, since he was on top of me, so that I could unbutton his jeans easier. Yes, he had a button-fly. I happen to hate buttons, but then I was thankful for them because they were hard to undo (pun unintentional). I didn't exactly want to touch Chaz that much. It was a little closer than I really intended to be to the guy, especially in the rather... excited... state he was in, and I had to lean back on my elbows to sit up a bit. While waiting for me to undo his pants (yes, I realize just how very wrong that is... and how old he is... In the U.S., Chaz could get arrested for this!), Chaz happened to look around the place. I didn't notice, but then his eyes caught on something.

What Chaz saw was Tommy and Ruby, up against the wall. His hands up her dress, her strap falling to her shoulder. I'll spare you the gory details since I never saw them like that. At first he thought he was hallucinating, I think, but then he blinked and the image of them didn't go away. So it was real, and that was when he realized that. But he didn't pull away. I don't think he understood, or maybe he wanted to see if Tommy would look over and see him so he would know how it felt. Either way, Chaz stayed there, on top of me, and let me humiliate myself. As you can see, I really appreciate that. Asshole. So he turned his eyes to me and, after much struggling, I finally undid the last button. Chaz groaned, loudly, and then, a little quieter, he sighed.

This whole thing is so incredibly messed up. He changed after that, becoming less rough and insistent. Almost like the Chaz I knew, gentle, even. There was a resignation about him. So he leaned down and kissed me softly on the mouth, pulling back and undoing the knot on the towel. And he was just staring down at me, so calm and collected, and... completely silent. Chaz pulled back the towel, away from the skin to which it clung desperately, and I could do nothing in my power to stop him. And then Chaz distanced himself a little, to stare. I wanted to cover myself, but there was no place for modesty. Not now. I was basically at his mercy.

And I hate that my relationships with men are so often like that. With them having all the power and control in that aspect. You see, my own ideas backfire so easily.

But Chaz let out one long, drawn-out, weary sigh. Maybe he wasn't going to do it. I don't know.

What I do know is that that was enough to pull Tommy away from Ruby long enough to glance over and notice something that was worth a second look. He damn near marched over, and I was still laying there, numb and uncomfortably exposed, underneath Chaz. The rage in his face... I could never describe its like. The blood flushed brightly in his cheeks, making him look florid and ridiculous, but Tommy didn't say a word. I could see the unfair judgment written in his eyes, and I knew that I deserved it. My cheeks flamed in shame. But it wasn't as if I'd had a choice, and I'd just been doing it to save his hide, and now the whole horrible thing had backfired on me. Ruby followed Tommy a bit later, since she needed to get herself together just as much as I did (although she still had sex hair and rumpled clothing), but by then I'd recovered enough to seize Chaz' shirt and wrap it around me, embarrassedly shoving Chaz off of me and hurrying to my feet.

I frantically began to button the shirt, feeling the panic bubbling up within me, wishing Tommy hadn't ambushed me in the first place. Damn him. All I had wanted was a shower, not this. Damn him to Hell! I needed desperately to get out. Ruby's judgment would be even worse than Tom's, and I didn't know if I could handle a single more cutting word about my apparent promiscuity. I tried to avoid thinking that I'd almost had sex with Chaz. Almost. Ruby was openly gaping at me, while Chaz merely rebuttoned his pants and rose silently, coolly. He said nothing to me, barely even glanced at me, but he shot Tommy a glare before turning to Ruby.

The tension in the room was palpable, and I didn't know who was going to snap first. All I wanted to do was find some clothes, any clothes, and get the hell out of there as fast as I could. I decided then, quite wisely, to retreat to the upstairs, where I'd left my clothing. I flew over to the staircase, wanting to escape the awkwardness of that knowing, pregnant silence. At first I thought no one had noticed, but I should've known better. Both Tommy and Chaz called me on it. "Oh, Jude, the fun's just beginning," Tommy seethed, "Come down here. Now." We obviously needed to have a little discussion. He said that in a voice that left no room for argument, so I forced myself to walk back over to the circle of shame.

I couldn't look up because I knew how their accusing eyes were boring into me. I could feel it, and if looks could kill... Tommy was, per usual, the first to speak. His words were harsh. "You're exactly my type, Jude," He retorted viciously, giving me a dismissive glance. He paused for dramatic effect, so that his words would hurt more. "Except you're so easy even I wouldn't touch you." I flinched at his words, but otherwise bore it in silence, knowing that I deserved it. He shook his head curtly. "You're such a hypocrite, Jude. You get on my case for being promiscuous, but you're not much better!" He interjected indignantly.

That made me look up. I wasn't going to take that lying down. My eyes blazed as I dared to meet his burning stare. "Well, in case you hadn't already realized, Tommy... I'm SIX-TEEN! I'm allowed to make stupid decisions, like you, for instance! You're twenty-three, Tommy! What the hell is your excuse?! You're not a damn teenager anymore!" I shouted back, equally as furious. My jaw tightened. I wasn't proud of myself, and I should've denied it, but he was right on some level. But the whole thing has just... spiraled out of my control. "It's not like I'm the adult here!" I snapped defensively, shooting murderous glances at both Tommy and Chaz, neither of whom looked as chagrined as they should've.

Everyone expected so much of me, and I'm really just a girl. "And it's not like I'm almost married to your brother! And you, of all people, know better that better than anyone... You've been trying to steal me away from him ever since you found out he was interested! So don't say I'm just as bad as you are. At least I have scruples!" I finished finally, fiercely, a little out of breath from my rant. Tommy gave me the dirtiest look imaginable, clearly reinforcing his previous message.

"You practically had sex with my best friend on the floor of my apartment. How can you claim to have scruples after that? How can you think that anyone owes you an ounce of respect when you act no better than a streetwalker? You're worse than I am!" Tommy growled disgustedly, unable to even look at me now. His face curled into an unattractive grimace, and I had never disliked him more. Especially since he made me feel just as low as I'd fallen. I hated that I'd disappointed him, but it wasn't fair. What, I was supposed to be some completely devoted virgin while he screwed around with half of Canada?! HOW IS THAT FAIR?! And I didn't even...

I glowered back at him, crossing my arms over my chest. Apparently he was too cowardly to meet my burning stare. I'd forgotten completely about the spectators, so incensed was I with Tommy. Either way, neither of them had a thing to say. "You say that like you haven't been banging Ruby since she got here. It's not like I screwed the love of my best friend's life! You have no moral high ground here. Besides, you are no one to lecture me on respectability. Who trusts you, Tom? No one. Mothers are afraid of you; they think you'll corrupt their daughters. And you have! Look what you did to me! This is all you, Tom! Look at the mess you made," I screamed, wanting so badly for him to own up to his share in my downfall. I didn't notice Chaz flinch. He's not the innocent victim in this. And it's not even like I actually had sex with anyone anyways!

But Tommy didn't look or acknowledge it. I felt so cheap and dirty that I felt like a streetwalker in my own mind. Only a streetwalker had more pride. "It's not my mess, Jude. You made your own be..." Here Tommy trailed off, the traces of a bitter smirk forming slowly on his face. "... Floor... And now you have to lie in it." The metaphor didn't quite work, but I felt a sense of abandonment nonetheless. How could he give me up and just toss me aside like that? I was supposed to do that to him. It figures he'd just try to wash his hands of it. Running away like always. That's all he does.

I felt like crying, but I had to be strong. "Someday, Tom, you're gonna have to accept responsibility for something," I hissed prophetically. Tom, however, bore a look that suggested that he was completely innocent. He wasn't, of course, but I could say nothing in response to that. The room was deathly silent once again.

To my surprise, Chaz suddenly broke the awful silence, glaring at Tommy. "She's right, you know," He bit back, challenging Tommy with his eyes.

Tommy's eyes narrowed, and his scowl deepened. "You would take her side," He countered accusingly. Chaz' eyes were black with carefully contained rage, while Tommy's showed in his too-straight posture, his hard features, the set of his jaw, and the midnight color of his eyes.

Chaz shrugged coolly. "Well, it's the least I can do..." He replied smoothly, deliberately suggestively. That comment had the effect of making me feel lower than the ground beneath my feet. I was a worm, nothing more. Tommy looked slightly green at the thought, but Chaz continued easily. "You have no honor. And you're the hypocrite here, Tom. She's just doing what you taught her to do, after all. You're just jealous that she's not doing it to you.You hate that she's off-limits, but you can't legally do one damn thing about that. And so you take another innocent girl and-" Chaz' voice was low, gravelly almost, a dead-sounding monotone.

He seemed strangely devoid of emotion yet so nastily bitter. At this point, Tommy, offended by Chaz blaming him for me (then again, so was I! Me following Tommy's orders like some subservient, spineless little housewife?!), interrupted. He let out a harsh laugh. "Ruby hasn't been innocent for some time, Chaz, and you know that better than anyone. So don't pretend I'm the one who ruined her. You're the one who almost married a fourteen-year-old," He snarled, smirking a bit at Ruby. I didn't want to watch, but I couldn't say anything.

Chaz ignored this purposefully, saving this comment and resentment for later, so that he could continue his statement. "You took another innocent girl and made her take Jude's place because she was the closest you could get to the real thing. That's despicable,"Chaz spat, clearly sickened by the mere thought. He and Tom circled each other then, exchanging predatory glares. I'd never seen them this at arms before, not even when they'd first seen each other after all those years. The Boyz Attack! fights were never as emotional or personal as this.

Tommy wanted to spit in Chaz' face, but he somehow managed to restrain himself, only uttering, "And now you've done it too! The exact same thing, Chaz!" He was right, of course, Chaz had done the same thing with me as Tommy had done with Ruby. The only difference was that I wasn't missing... Well, Ruby was thinking of Chaz when she came on to Tommy, missing him. And I was only thinking of saving their worthless asses when I... Yeah. Chaz neither denied it nor confirmed it.

The smile on Chaz' face was thin and icy. "Oh. Forgive me, Tommy," He stated ironically, sounding more bored than apologetic. His face hardened. "So then Jude's the mother of your child? I wasn't aware you were a father. At least... not by this girl. She's so young, Tom." That made me glare at Chaz. I wasn't pregnant, quite obviously. I hadn't even slept with Tom. And... Tommy had other kids? He never told me anything about... Um, I mean kids. Period. Not other kids, since I'm obviously not having one. And even if I did, it wouldn't be his. And wow, so not helping my case. And who was Chaz to comment on teenage pregnancy, anyways? He impregnated a thirteen-year-old! That's not even really legal! Tommy was about to deny this, but Chaz spoke faster. "Oh, so you've proposed to her, then? Funny. I didn't see any ring on her finger, and then what's this you've got going with Sadie?"

Chaz' comments continued, coming faster and faster, increasingly cutting, like lead bullets. Tommy stiffened but couldn't say a word. Chaz wouldn't let him get a single comment in edgewise. "So you want to marry her, huh, Tom? And then she's the love of your life, the reason you wake up in the morning, your only hope for the future, the one person you want to spend eternity with, then, and you could never want anyone else even half as much?" Tommy didn't agree, clearly, by the way his eyes widened. I looked down, feeling my eyes cloud over. "You would die for her?" Chaz asked sneeringly, mocking me. He knew full well the answer was no. He paused briefly, but Tom still said nothing. I'd rather just know. "Then, by all means, if that's all true... Then I've done the exact same thing as you, and I'm terribly sorry," He finished cruelly, eying Tom and knowing that wasn't true.

Tommy didn't look guilty like he should've, but he didn't look like he really thought any of that either. There wasn't even a pained expression on his face. And I knew, even though it hurt, that none of it was true. Tommy would no sooner die for me than he would for his own mother or that brother he hates. Maybe he'd actually even save her. He doesn't have a selfless bone in his body. Tommy merely eyed Chaz darkly, exchanging sentiments I couldn't name, messages only Chaz understood. "Not the exact same thing, Chaz, but close. Close. You know she's my girl. And... Since when do you become a moralist just because I'm not in love with Jude?!" Tommy rejoined loudly, louder than I thought. His voice cut through the silence, and Tommy saying that... It was just so harsh.

The breath caught unpleasantly in my throat. I felt like I was choking for one horrifying moment.

And then I exhaled.

But the bottom was still falling out beneath me, and I flinched nonetheless. It hurt to hear him say that awful thing, tore me up inside all over again. I kept on breathing, though. I kept on living, even though what he said might as well have killed me. Oh, no, he most assuredly wouldn't die for me. But the world didn't end. Life kept on going. I wasn't about to let him affect me that much. No more.

Then would've been the time for crying, and though I felt the hotness pressing against my eyelids, not a single droplet fell from my eyes. It was as if all the tears were frozen, and my eyes were painfully dry. I couldn't dredge up even a single tear. Maybe I was all cried out. Just as well. I'd wasted enough of them on worthless men.

Chaz looked surprised at this passionate declaration from Tom. Not stricken, like me, but no one was looking at me, and I was thankful for that. For once. Then Chaz' eyes darkened still further, and he glared absolute daggers at Tommy. The look was so black and hateful and accusing and a thousand other things, disgust heavily among them, that I was surprised it didn't actually kill Tommy. It terrified me. But the light in Tommy's eyes dimmed a little, and I could sense an overwhelming wave of guilt had just washed over him, the first of what would later amount to many. Many tiny reactions I would never see.

I pressed my hands to my pained temples, hurting all over, wishing I'd never come to this godforsaken place. I felt a thousand years older but none the wiser. Chaz sobered a little, the same cool, passive look passing over his features. He shook his head, staring at Tommy in disbelief. I had the feeling that I'd missed something important, but I didn't know what. "I should kill you right now. I want to kill you right now. But I can't," Chaz grunted, rage rumbling out of him, barely repressed beneath the words. He was clenching his fists, but Tommy looked nonplussed. He wasn't afraid in the slightest.

Tommy merely raised an eyebrow. He didn't care to know why, but Chaz asked anyways. "And you wanna know why?" Chaz questioned brazenly. Tommy just shrugged and gave his own reply.

"Because you know I can sweep the floor with you, and since you attacked me in my own home, I could get self-defense if I hurt or killed you," He replied just as cold-blooded as can be. It's a wonder the blood isn't frozen in his veins.

Chaz didn't look alarmed by this, but it was clear that this wasn't the answer. He chuckled almost warmly at Tom's suggestion. "Good one, Tom, but not it. Not even really that close." Tommy's face was utterly blank. He wasn't paying much attention to his friend, but he seemed to snap to attention when he heard Chaz tsk him. A flicker of some emotion flashed briefly in his eyes, but it was fleeting. "I pity you, and, frankly, you're not worth the jail time." Talk about cool. Tommy hates to be pitied, so I saw his wrath flare up again, but Chaz, who was suddenly dominant, once again refused to let him speak. He cast a brief glance my way before quickly looking away, not as unaffected as he'd hoped. "Just like Jude, right?" Chaz drawled provocatively, knowing full well how furious a comment like that would make Tommy.

Because fundamentally, that was the difference between Ruby and I. Ruby, to Chaz, was worth the possibility of jail time. He'd almost confessed; he had wanted to plead guilty. But Tommy had stepped in and stopped that out of his own guilt. And I... I wasn't. I wasn't worth the possible jail time, which is why I haven't had sex with Tommy. One of those reasons, anyways. Chaz and Travis hadn't cared, but then again, I was legal to Chaz, and no one believes me about Travis anyways.

Tommy's cool, blank face grew livid before my eyes. And then he punched Chaz quick as a flash.

Chaz' head swung back at a rather unattractive, painful angle. He barely flinched, though he was obviously in pain. He shook it off, as if he was used to it.

Once again, Chaz turned to look at me, this time shooting me a pitying glance. Oh well. I didn't care. Pity is better than lust or the shame I was forced to feel. The expression on Chaz' face softened a little. "I'm sorry for you because you're so blind, Tommy," He sighed frustratedly. Then his voice lowered significantly, and I had to strain to listen. "You have no idea how lucky you are. That girl would do anything for you, you know that? Even have sex with me so I wouldn't come in and catch you with Ruby. And she practically did, all to save your sorry ass! But when you find her, you reward her selflessness by yelling at her and calling her a whore!" Chaz sibilated, each word dripping with fury. And by saying, quite loudly, that he doesn't love me, I added mentally with more than a little resentment.

It just figures that Chaz would take my side now, doesn't it?

"It's not like we had sex anyways, so back off, Tommy. You're the one who had my girl, not the other way around," Chaz grumbled clearly, possessively, making it all as plain as day.

Tommy's eyebrows rose, and I tried desperately to look at anything but him. Chaz had been right, had spoken the truth, had gotten a little too close to home. I was dazed from all of this; all of my energy was focused completely on keeping it all together. I was so focused on that, and Tommy and Chaz were so focused on their little staring contest and their stupid battle of wills that no one noticed Ruby until it was too late. She took her own advice; what can I say? She strutted over to me, looking as classy as she could in that trashy ensemble (no less trashy than my own), and slapped me hard right across the face. "WHORE!" She'd screamed like a battle-cry before unleashing upon me a long string of unprintable words that ladies don't know. Tommy was right about her innocence being wholly gone, I couldn't help but think.

My whole face stung, maybe it even swelled up... It did, didn't it? And I just blinked, then Ruby tried to hit me again, but Tommy was faster. He intervened, abruptly stepping between us and shoving her away from me roughly. I was in shock. Pure and utter shock. "Chaz, get that crazy bitch away from Jude!" Tommy yelled with a strange urgency. Chaz looked like he sorely wanted to sock Tommy for calling Ruby a crazy bitch, much less after he'd slept with her for a couple weeks, but he nodded nonetheless.

He had grabbed Ruby, catching her after Tommy had pushed her. He was just glad to be near her again, I think, but he was still so angry. He cast a brief glance at her, searching for something in her. He came up empty, though, and soon looked away, locking eyes with Tommy. "Don't call her that, Tom. Show some respect for the women you've screwed," He scolded half-heartedly. A weariness appeared in his eyes. "Besides, we need to talk anyways," He murmured with some finality. Then he turned his back on Tommy, clutching Ruby's arm with white knuckles, guiding her back down the hall I'd first confronted her in for a little privacy.

Tommy didn't say anything after they left, even though I was waiting for some sort of pronouncement. He didn't even look at me, and I couldn't look at him either. Eventually, though, he cleared his throat and spoke unsteadily. "So... You were only... doing that... to distract Chaz so he wouldn't come in here?" Tommy asked hesitantly. I nodded immediately and felt my anger growing. Why is it that he trusts and believes Chaz over me? Why does he automatically assume the worst of me? Tommy just nodded back, a bit confused, and not quite knowing what to do. Well, neither did I. It wasn't like he thanked me or anything. He should've, though. I practically sold myself for his safety, and I don't get even a thank-you.

I had to say something, though, so I sighed. "I'm really glad that you... stepped in when you did. I didn't want..." I trailed off, unable to say anything more. The sincerity was obvious in my words, and I noticed that a wan smile appeared on Tom's face, but only just barely. We probably should've talked like the other two, but what was there to say? Like I said, I wasn't the one he was marrying. He didn't owe me an explanation, yet I somehow owed him one, and Chaz had given it for me. How oddly perceptive he was. After that remark, I grabbed my shoes and turned and walked upstairs.

Ugh. I needed to get into my regular clothes and out of Chaz' shirt. I hurried past Tommy into his bathroom, collecting my clothes in a rush. I could feel Tommy's eyes on my back, so I dressed with calm modesty, putting the underwear on underneath the shirt, so Tommy wouldn't see. Then I put on my bra (still under my shirt), and then came the jeans, and then I unbuttoned Chaz' shirt and threw on my own t-shirt. Dirty as the clothes were, they were still mine. And that was better than Tommy's ex-girlfriend's cast-offs or a souvenir from my battle with Chaz or, still worse, something of Ruby's. Besides, I had a spare set in my car. I washed my hands, but that didn't make me feel any more clean. I felt like I'd been living in the gutter and swimming in sewers.

Tommy sighed, just staring at me and Chaz' shirt lying forlornly on the damp floor. He went back into his room, and I thought for sure that I was rid of him. I put on my Converse and then I took the opportunity to examine myself in the mirror, and I found that I didn't like what I saw. Chaz had really done a number on my neck. An annoying number, as I'm sure you can see. My make-up was ridiculously smeared, so I wiped it off and vowed to apply it anew in my car later. Finding myself somewhat presentable, I walked out of the room, trusting that Tommy would give Chaz his shirt later. I needed out.

I ran straight into Tommy, who bore a sheepish look and, apparently, my miscellaneous jewelry. He handed me back first my St. Jude chain, an old necklace of his he'd given me a long time ago and I'd lately found essential to my wardrobe and my sanity. Then he handed me my guitar pick necklace, one my best friend Jamie had gotten for me after I won Instant Star. It belonged to Joe Strummer, so naturally I treasure it. Ah, the wonders of Ebay. Then he handed me my star ring, which is as much a part of my identity as the red hair. That, coincidentally, was also a present from Tommy on my thirteenth birthday. And I didn't really know him then. I just sorta talked to him at this one Boyz Attack! concert when I was twelve and sorta helped him get his life back together. So he felt he owed me and sent me a birthday present, and... wait a sec... How'd he know when my birthday was? I never told him.

Weird.

Anyways...

Finally, he handed me the last two rings, another of which he'd given me (a cheap toy machine ring, probably cost him a quarter or something), and a larger one that belonged to a man. He knew full well whose ring it was, and that was why he was scowling. Huh, weird. My jewelry is made of presents from men, only men. Strange. But the ring happened to belong to Travis, whom Tommy despises. Remember when I said that Travis tried to marry me? Well, that was kind of his engagement ring to me. It's got his family's crest on it and everything. Tommy put it on my thumb himself, running his finger over the engraving with a look of disdain and bitter hatred. "A memento from one of your other lovers?" He growled, suddenly dropping my hand. Of course, he'd given me the earrings, my star ring, that cheapo ring, and the chain I was wearing, so one piece of jewelry from another guy, apparently even his worst enemy was a crime.

The ring was a symbol to Tommy, of everything Travis had and he did not. I scowled at Tommy, drawing my hand back protectively. Still, it made me wonder why I still had the ring in the first place. But then again, I never was one to turn down a perfectly good gift. I rolled my eyes. "I don't have any lovers, Tommy. Not you, not Shay, not Taylor, not Speed, not Chaz, not Mason, and most CERTAINLY not Travis Quinn!" I snapped a bit too shrilly. Tommy flinched at Travis' name, despite my denial. I would never get the man to trust me. Then I whirled around, still feeling as naked as I'd been when he looked down on me. But we weren't going to discuss that.

I brushed past him coolly, holding my head up high, trying and frantically failing to regain some of the dignity I'd lost. Tommy was close on my heels; I could sense his brooding sulkiness skulking behind me. Walking carefully down the rest of the stairs, I finally turned around when I hit the floor. Chaz and Ruby weren't out yet, and I didn't hear anything. For a second, I thought they'd killed each other. But I pushed that thought aside and faced Tommy. It kind of hurt just to look at him, but I made myself do it. "Thanks for the earrings," I murmured thankfully. Tommy nodded disinterestedly. I suddenly remembered something, frowning at the thought. "Earlier... Your promise."

Tommy furrowed his brow, trying to remember. I cleared my throat softly. "You said that... if I apologized to Travis that... that you'd do what I wanted and leave me alone," I said shakily. I knew without a doubt then that he would leave me alone, but it was funny how I didn't want him to. Tommy just nodded, giving me a searching look.

"Oh, I'll have no trouble doing that... But that's not what you want," Tommy swore intently. His voice was low and almost velvety to my ears, but it wasn't comforting in the slightest. He was right, too, damn it. I just nodded, neither confirming nor denying it, just accepting it, meeting his glance for a moment before looking away. His eyes burned me. A moment later Chaz and Ruby calmly walked out of the back. Chaz' cheeks were flushed with lingering rage, and his eyes were wet. Ruby was openly crying, sobbing rather, and chasing after him. When Tommy saw her, he made a face and stalked upstairs. I stood there, staring at them.

Ruby walked up to Chaz, putting her hands on him in desperation. "Chaz, please!I'm sorry!I love you!" Ruby pleaded, hurling himself upon his mercy. Or, in this case, lack of mercy. I personally don't think he should've been so hard on her. She was only seventeen after all... Her frontal cortex wasn't even fully developed yet, so how did he expect her to make good decisions? Then again, maybe he was doing it for her, so that she could go to college and have a life free of attachments, or nothing could be the same after losing Charlotte. But Chaz was stupid about it. You never forget your first love, much less someone who had so much influence over you growing up.

He shook his head slowly, looking conflicted. Then he pushed her away gently, removing her hands from his arms carefully. "No, Ruby. It can't be. I can't. I love you too, and I'll always love you... but it's not the same. And, even if it was, it'd take time for me to forgive you for... this. I'm just getting my life back together, and you have your whole life ahead of you. I'd only ruin that for you," Chaz replied softly, trying miserably to smile. Ruby started to protest, but Chaz silenced her by placing a finger to her lips. "You're so beautiful, Ruby, and you've grown up so much. You've really grown. You're a bona fide woman now. And as much as I want to... I can't do that to you. The last thing you need is to get tangled back up in me again," Chaz continued reverently. I flushed, feeling quite the voyeur. Ruby didn't quite understand, but nothing she could say could convince Chaz to change his mind.

Tommy came downstairs, bearing a suitcase and a heavy duffel bag, while Ruby was still murmuring to Chaz in hopes of reconciliation. Tommy's face hardened; he had to have known that he was a large part of the reason why they couldn't get back together. Everyone was clearly miserable. Then Tommy practically threw the bags at Ruby. "I'm afraid my generosity must now come to an end. You'd better go back home to your parents," Tommy stated gruffly. Ruby merely stared at him in shock, and even I couldn't believe he was that cold-blooded.

Both of them had thrown Ruby out like yesterday's news, and both of them had assumed the worst of me. So I could sympathize. All of a sudden she had no hope, no place to go, maybe even no money. And, while I might not have liked her that much, I didn't think they were justified in treating her so poorly. Ruby picked up her bags slowly, tears streaming down her face. And then I knew what I had to do. I whirled around and slapped Tommy across the face. It would've been really funny if I called him a cad or something, but I didn't. I called him an asshole without any courtesy instead. And other things about how he had no manners. Then I marched over to Chaz and slapped him too, shooting him a disgusted look. It wasn't because of Ruby. It was because of how far he was willing to go, how low he'd made me feel. I abruptly grabbed Ruby by the arm, pulling her out the door with me. Just before the door slammed behind me, I heard the slap of skin on skin and instinctively knew that Tommy and Chaz were getting into it.

I should've let her kiss Chaz goodbye. For closure's sake, at least. She probably wanted to, but something tells me she'll run into him again. Instead, I helped her with the bags and got in the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage calmly. I did all of this without saying a single word. It was Ruby, not me, who broke the silence. She had ceased crying from pure shock and was merely staring at me. "Why did you do that?" She asked, not comprehending. She frowned, confused. "I was a total bitch, and you defended me. Why?" It was like she didn't get that sometimes people do nice things just to do them.

I shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. "Regardless of my personal feelings, they had no right to treat you like that. Especially Tommy," I said simply, still appalled Tommy had treated her that way. I looked at her for a moment. "Tommy shouldn't have just kicked you out like that. It was tacky of him." Ruby brightened just a little bit, but shame took hold of her features. Funny. I hadn't thought she'd had any. She just sighed.

"I guess I kinda deserved it," She admitted guiltily. "Tommy only kicked me out because Chaz found out, and he knows Chaz wouldn't have it. And you. He couldn't after you..." I couldn't believe she was defending Tommy's actions. She sounded like a scared little girl. Tommy's actions were deplorable. After today I wasn't really sure I knew him at all, and maybe it wouldn't be too hard to forget about him. My sister has no idea what she's getting into. None whatsoever.

I shook my head. "I already knew about you and Tommy. He told me. That's why I wasn't that surprised to see you. Chaz... Chaz doesn't like the idea of you with Tom, but he wouldn't care as long as you weren't living on the street. He just wants to see you safe. If it wasn't too hard for him, he might've even let you stay with him. But Chaz knows he'd give in eventually," I explained calmly, scarcely able to believe I was having such a civil conversation with Ruby. Ruby's eyes turned thoughtful, and she assented silently that I was probably right. She seemed surprised to learn that Tommy had told me and peered at me curiously.

"You're right, I guess. That's how it was when I stayed with Tommy, and Tommy didn't even..." Ruby trailed off, a hesitant look in her eyes. I knew what she was going to say next. Tommy didn't care. Oh, I wanted to tell her that I was more than familiar with the feeling. She cleared her throat awkwardly, pursing her lips. "I just can't believe he..." Me either. Tommy lacks discretion, though. And then Ruby's eyes narrowed a bit, but not in anger, rather, in pity. "You speak with such longing," Ruby remarked offhandedly. I merely swallowed and said nothing. There wasn't anything to say to that.

The door opened a few minutes later, and we emerged in the small parking garage. I picked up Ruby's duffel and led her to my car, throwing her bags in the trunk. She smirked upon seeing my car, obviously recollecting its similarity to Tommy's ride. I grabbed the clothes out of the back, intending to walk over to the elevator and change. "Don't worry about where you're going to sleep tonight. You're going to be staying at my house," I said over my shoulder, too busy putting the bags away to look at her. When I finally turned around to see her upon slamming my trunk shut, she was gaping at me in awe.

"Are you serious?!" She exclaimed in disbelief, sounding animated for the first time in our short acquaintance. I nodded. Would I offer if I wasn't? I guess people doing things for such blatantly unselfish motives was kind of new to her. I didn't hate her. If anything, I understood her better than anyone else ever could, and I saw a little of myself in her, the direction I might've gone... had things turned out differently. And that scares me, so I had to help her. Ruby ran over to hug me then, and I smiled awkwardly, not expecting that. "Thank you so much! No one's ever been so nice to me, and I don't have many friends because everyone knows..." She seemed to crumple at this, and I realized suddenly how very lonely she must be, which explained her hard demeanor.

Even her parents don't look at her the same way, I guess, which is probably one of the reasons why she ran away twice. Either that or they just don't care. I patted her on the shoulder sympathetically. "It's no trouble, really. My sister just left for college, I practically live at the studio or whatever, and my parents are gone a lot. I'm sure they'd be happy to entertain you. And they probably won't remember what happened," I suggested, glancing longingly at the elevator. She seemed to perk up at this, even smiling a little. I flashed a weak smile back. "Now, I'm gonna go into the elevator and change into some clean clothes, since these smell like crap. You can hang out in the car. We'll be out of here as soon as I'm done, okay?"

Then I walked into the elevator, changed quickly, and came back out. I threw the dirty clothes in the trunk. Luckily Ruby was already lounging in the car peacefully. After that we had a surprisingly decent conversation. Ruby told me about her life, and I told her about mine, and I felt like she kind of understood me. It was sad, but a pretty revealing conversation. Ruby doesn't have many friends, no girl friends at all, so it was kind of a relief to her. When we finally got home, she dropped her stuff in one of the rooms and we sat down to watch TV. My loving parents left a note saying that they went out to grab some dinner. And I knew I was in trouble when a rerun of Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers came on, and I started to bawl.

Clearly, this is not the behavior of a sane woman. So I knew I had to get out or else I was really going to lose my mind. I had to go somewhere where everything was unfamiliar and nothing reminded me of anything... or anyone. I apologized to Ruby and gave her this really half-hearted explanation but I told her I had to go. I gave her strict orders to pretend to be me. I knew my parents would be able to tell the difference between us, even if Tommy and Chaz couldn't, so I advised her to go stay in my room and feign illness. I recommended feeling dizzy, having a headache, or extreme drowsiness so that she could be both left alone and receive food. Then I bolted before Mom and Dad could come back.

I just got in the car and started driving. It was like I was on autopilot. I wasn't even thinking about where I was going, just getting out of the city and going away to a place where people didn't recognize me. My mind was completely devoid of thought. And then I heard this song on the radio while I was flipping absentmindedly through the channels. It was your song. Before I knew it, I was listening, and it kind of hit me where it hurt because I'd been feeling everything I was hearing. It was so honest. So when I came upon your town, halfway on the way to Ottawa, I had to stop. I finally stopped and gassed up my car because I was pretty much running on fumes, and then I parked.

It hit me real suddenly just how hungry I was, so I walked into the first place I saw, Mickey's Discs. Luckily they serve food too, or else I'd be starving. And then I found your single, and the rest, as they say, is history..." I finished wearily, suddenly needing a drink.

Lily gave me an expectant look, but I just shook my head. Okay, so I kind of left it unfinished, just a little, but the rest wasn't that crazy, no, not crazy at all. "I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, Lily... I promise. I'm just really... tired right now. It's been a very, very long day," I yawned, blinking slightly. "I'm gonna go to sleep," I murmured wearily, sinking into the couch. I smiled sleepily. "Thanks for letting me crash here, Lily. Not many people would let a strange rockstar sleep in their home."

She looked at me warily before chuckling. A moment later, she smiled and threw me a blanket. It was at least twelve in the morning, probably even later. Lily looked a bit wilted herself, but nowhere near as drop-dead exhausted as me. You wanna know who Lily is and why I'm here, but I'll tell you that tomorrow too. That, m'dear, is a story for another day. "Okay... Goodnight, Jude," Lily whispered before she turned to go upstairs. I kicked my shoes off and pulled the blanket around me, instantaneously closing my eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

For the first night in a long while, I wasn't tormented with dreams or thoughts of Tommy.

- Loren ;)