"Do you think I'm crazy. I'm not crazy, right?"

"I used to think you were."

"What changed?"

"A lot."

There was a murky silence, dissipating by the seconds. An uncomfortable quiet followed the short, but heavy answer. Sitting in a hotel room, the television talked aimlessly to no one in particular, discussing the changing weather, recent murders, and everything else that didn't matter to the two.

"I love h-"

"I know."

"Am I wrong? Is it too fast?"

"Feelings aren't wrong."

"But they can be misguided."

The lack of a response to the comment seemed to end the conversation there. It was something that could've been quoted from a famous person or put in a picture frame and hung in a house of mirrors.

"I'm gonna miss you, Courtney."

"I'll be back soon, hopefully a lot richer."

"And happier."

"Do you think money buys happiness?"

"Do you?"

"I think it gets me pretty close to it."

"A thin line from that and being materialistic."

"How about this: I don't need to rely on money to be happy."

"Which do you think is more important, happiness or money?"

"I want to say happiness. Why?"

"So, what if you had to choose between Duncan and the money."

"Who said Duncan brings me happiness?"

"I can tell he does. I just know."

"Yeah, right. Do you think I make him happy?"

They locked eyes. A swamp of uneasiness flooded a set of eyes. Insecurity flashed-flooded in another. It was only right to barely stay afloat in their situation. Sometimes they floated on their backs peacefully, calm before the storm disrupted everything. It was nerve-wracking, never knowing what's coming next.

When she woke up on her stomach, it smelled like make-shift Hawaii. It wasn't a beautiful first few moments of consciousness; she blinked too many times and rubbed her eyes to get rid of the crust. The blinds were open, allowing sunlight to hit the carpeted floors for the first time in some time.

She breathed into her sheets, closing her eyes again and letting the smell lull her back to sleep. This worked for a few seconds, before another smell took control of her nostrils. This one forced her to use her arms and push herself up onto her knees, squinting at the light in front of her. It smelled like pancakes and eggs. It was an unfamiliar smell in the apartment, so it made Courtney blink awake at a much faster rate.

Courtney groaned as she slid off of her bed, feeling her chances of falling back to sleep pass through her fingers like wind. She stretched on her tiptoes, reaching her arms towards her ceiling. The brunette only wore an oversized cream t-shirt to bed, forgoing shorts for the sticky June summer. Quickly, she glanced at the mirror still in the corner of her bedroom. It was shattered and should be thrown out. Thoughtfully, Courtney wondered why Bridgette let it stay. Maybe she forgot it was there and decided to go to sleep instead of taking it down to the trash room.

At the thought of her best friend, again, Courtney forgot she was here. It was an automatic thing, forgetting her best friend's existence in her apartment only because no one stuck around for long if Courtney even allowed them to come over. The blonde was the source of the appeal of breakfast that surprisingly left her friend's stomach rumbling for food. Usually, Courtney ignored the sound for sheer laziness and lack of interest in satisfying her appetite but having her best friend around has caused a slight change in behavior.

Instead of going straight towards the kitchen, Courtney turned into her bathroom and shut the door lightly. She peed, flushed the toilet (thanking the heavens she wasn't sure existed because the toilet actually flushed) and opened the cabinet, reaching for her toothbrush and toothpaste. Then she closed the door, letting herself stare at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was sticking out in various places and her skin looked a bit dry, bags underneath her eyes spoke lengths. Courtney glanced away and turned the sink water on, wetting her toothbrush and putting paste on it before beginning to brush her teeth.

She had a dream about Duncan again, she thought as she brushed the furthest teeth. It was fast and wild, a two-second glimpse of their relationship time-lapsed into seven hours. Clearly, she could see the green hair, feel the stubble around his bottom lip, hear Princess being whispered over and over again. It made her gag, but to make herself feel better she stuck the toothbrush down her throat to hide the embarrassment. She spit out the toothpaste mixed with her spit, before looking back up at herself in the mirror, light tears in her eyes. Courtney continued brushing.

Sometimes, when she dreams about him and wakes up the next morning, she reminisces on the first time they touched or held hands or kissed and feels the sparks of electricity waterfall down her back. It was new, exciting, and everything Courtney didn't realize she actually needed, all encompassed in a sixteen-year-old delinquent. It was awful, really, how drawn to each other they were. The opposites attract theory was proving the two wrong, until they realized their similarities were much more hidden than they originally believed.

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"Sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"I think we have a perfect match, but there could be different types of obstacles."

"I don't understand."

"Like, maybe you already met your soulmate, but it wasn't at the perfect time; you both need to grow before being together. Or maybe the two of you are friends now, but you haven't realized how much you mean to each other, or what you could be."

"Oh, so like the puzzle pieces are there, you just have to put them together."

"Yeah. Something like that."

Cheesing widely in the mirror, Courtney stared at her teeth to make sure she hit every single tooth before closing her mouth and staring at her chapped lips. She leaned forward, enough that her forehead met the cold embrace of the mirror and she stayed like that for a moment, closing her eyes. It was a nice feeling, contrasting the outside weather. Exhaling, Courtney dipped her shoulders low to relax her over-stressed muscles before pushing herself off of the sink and mirror and opening the cabinet, placing her toothbrush and toothpaste back and closing the cabinet.

After opening the bathroom door, she turned and walked into her living room. It was on, playing some television series about brides looking for the perfect dress. A long line of family members and friends sat on sofas, eagerly waiting for the bride-to-be to walk out in what could possibly be the one. And speaking of brides-to-be, Courtney turned towards the kitchen and saw Bridgette in one of the drawers, pulling out utensils for them to use. On the island there were two plates, each composed of pancakes, cheesy eggs, and oatmeal with raisins in it. Next to one of the plates was a bottle of pills.

"Good morning mi rayo de sol." Bridgette greeted, partially in Spanish. A few years ago, Courtney tried teaching her a few phrases since Bridgette was so interested in it for a few months.

"Buenos días mejor amiga. Cómo has dormido?" Courtney responded, a light accent coming out when she spoke.

When Bridgette stared at the ground, trying to translate in her head, Courtney began to smile. Then, the blonde looked up lost.

Courtney chuckled lightly. "Good morning best friend. How did you sleep?" She decided to translate.

Her friend smiled sheepishly. "I totally knew that. I was just pretending that I didn't. I slept bien, you know I love your couch." Bridgette picked up the pill bottle and placed it in front of her friend. "Here are your lactose pills. How did you sleep?"

For a moment, Courtney forgot she actually went to bed. Though she woke up slightly annoyed, dreaming about her past again, she felt somewhat refreshed. When was the last time she felt like this? A good night's rest wasn't particularly something she was recently familiar with, especially in the mornings or late afternoons when she woke up pondering her life and every mistake she performed for a camera and money.

"Actually, I slept well." She responded, shock rising in her tone.

Bridgette nodded her head knowingly. "Yeah, you passed out as soon as you hit the bed. I was in the middle of telling you a story, I think. Next thing I know I hear light snoring and when I turn around you were out. It was pretty funny, actually. You were even lightly snoring, if I remember correctly."

While she was talking, Courtney grabbed a glass and filled it with water. She came back around and sat down on one of the stools, opening the pill bottle and throwing one of them in her mouth and putting the glass to her lips immediately afterwards and taking a drink. At the last part, she put her glass down and swallowed. "Bridgette. I do not snore."

"Are you sure, because I think that's what I heard last night."

"I promise you I wasn't snoring. You must be hearing things." Courtney picked up a fork and took a large bite of her cheesy eggs. Not too long after she moaned at the taste of the eggs. "Bridgette, I forgot how amazing your eggs are, wow."

Bridgette looked up. "Court, I think you just forgot how good food is." She raised an eyebrow and took a bite of her pancake. "There's barely any food in here, you need to go food shopping. I'm going to write a list of things you need other than bread and milk."

The brunette rolled her eyes, before also taking a bite out of her pancakes and sitting in the silent aftermath. "I don't starve myself, Bridgette." She finally responded, sounding slightly annoyed.

"And I'm not saying that!" Bridgette looked at her friend, voice raising slightly, defending herself. "I'm more focused on the fact you aren't putting any effort in what you eat. You need a balanced diet, no matter how old or young you are. You know that."

In her head, Courtney knew she was right. The Latina used to be very particular about what she ate in order to keep a healthy body, since that led to a healthy mind and the Courtney back then believed she needed all the help she can get in order to get into law school and be the best corporate lawyer in the world. While filming the series her eating habits were somewhat affected since she couldn't eat her usual foods and had to settle for whatever Chef Hatchet decided to create in his kitchen. To this day, she still isn't sure what it was she was eating. There were several points throughout the first season where at least one contestant ended up with nausea, though.

In the mornings, back on the island, Courtney would jog on the beach since it was one of the few places she had mapped out in her head - she still had to look out for Fang some mornings, he liked morning snacks before breakfast. On the plus side, though, it kept her physical condition at its peak. But other than the low levels of anxiety she felt, it was calming, in a sense. There were even a few times Duncan would run with her. His excuse for being awake was because "Juvie, princess." and they both cared enough about their appearance to stay in shape. Some mornings they would talk, the runs more casual but longer. Other times it was silent and intense, keeping their thoughts private. Naturally, their competitiveness would arise some mornings, where they would race across the beach or to a tree with one of Duncan's carvings. Those were the times the cameras weren't rolling, and they could be themselves. Lightly drop hints about their feelings, talk about home, their problems, it was a different part of him Courtney wasn't familiar seeing for the majority of her time on the show. In all honesty, it was a breath of fresh air listening to him actually be a human being on the first season; it was one thing that kept her around the following seasons. Courtney was constantly looking for those broken pieces of Duncan he barely showed more and more. Yet, the more he was on television the less the world saw his nice interior, and the same applied to Courtney.

And now, here she is, thinking about him again. Years later, eating breakfast with her best friend. Somehow everything about herself led back to him in some way. It made her body tense up and feel uncomfortable, even though he was nowhere near her. Like a lot of the contestants Courtney interacted with, they didn't leave off on the best of terms, so there is no real conclusion to their story. That fact makes possibly attending this reunion that much more nerve-wracking. Confrontation is usually something Courtney can easily deal with, but this time is different. Duncan isn't a stranger. There were mountains of feelings between the two which eventually led to their demise. If she were to ever talk to him again, Courtney wouldn't even know what to say or where to start. Sure, she's thought about it before and tried to piece together every single word that would appear in her monologue, but when Courtney thought about the situation and visualized it her nerves felt like they were exploding with energy, and she loses her words. Courtney doesn't even know what Duncan looks like now, if he grew out the green mohawk or if the dog-collar is still religiously wrapped around his neck. She always thought those were silly, but important parts of his character.

She blinks, and suddenly she's back in the kitchen, Bridgette contently finishing her plate of food. So, Courtney goes back to eating too, pretending the interminable memories weren't plaguing her thoughts, and pretending Bridgette didn't notice the silence.

Bridgette spins in a circle in Courtney's living room, arms outstretched. Then she stops, facing her best friend, and poses with her head in the palms of her hands. She smiles widely, and blonde hair whips into her face. She has to blow some strands away, but finally stops moving.

"I think your hair should be curled." Courtney intensely looks at Bridgette, before turning back into a magazine full of different hair styles. "But not too curled! A soft, beach waves look, something natural to you." She circles a few pictures in the magazine. "How do you feel about a veil?"

She looks up to Bridgette, who looks back and shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not against it."

Courtney makes a face. She looks like she's thinking deeply. "I guess it would depend on what your dress looks like, but you don't have any ideas on what you want for that either. Other than you, Bridge, that's the centerpiece of the entire ceremony. And the flowers too, but you don't have any ideas about that either."

"I just don't want roses." Bridgette calls out.

"Which is fine, because when I think of you, I don't think of roses. I'll write that down." Courtney writes on a notepad to the right of her.

Bridgette stops posing and stands in the living room, smiling. "So, what do we have so far?"

The brunette picks the notepad up. "Well," she begins, "You want your wedding colors to be blue-."

"Aqua." Bridgette corrects.

"-Right. Aqua," Courtney crosses out blue and rewrites the color, "and seafoam. You also want a beach wedding - not surprising - and an indoor reception. You also want a white wedding dress and the wedding in March."

They look at each other.

"And?" Bridgette asks, wanting Courtney to continue talking.

"And?" Courtney questions her best friend. "Bridge, that's it. That's all we've come to a decision on so far."

Bridgette made a face. "I thought this would be way easier, it's been two hours. What else do I have to decide on?"

Courtney thinks for a moment. "Well, bridesmaids, invitation cards, an actual location and not just a beach, guest number, chair types, reception location, food, centerpieces during the reception, -."

"Okay, okay I get it. I have a lot more to figure out." Bridgette sounds tired.

Her friend laughs. "Bridge, this isn't something that's going to come to you all at once. It takes time. That's why you hire someone to do it for you: a wedding planner. That's It's a pretty self-explanatory job description, all in the name."

Groaning, Bridgette drags herself to the sofa Courtney is sitting on and sits on the edges, avoiding sitting on wedding magazines.

"You'll have to compromise with Geoff too. You don't even know what he wants, it's his wedding too."

"Geoff wants his family there and a big reception party." Bridgette waved a hand at the Latina. "Trust me, I know Geoff like the back of my hand. He's a pretty simple guy."

Courtney smiles. "He's your simple guy. You never know, maybe he has a thing for centerpieces at the reception. Don't leave him out of the conversation."

Bridgette nodded, laughing. "That he is, he is my guy." She stops laughing for a moment. "He's my guy. Court," she turns and looks at her friend, "I'm getting married next year. I feel like such an adult."

In response, Courtney laughed at her friend. "Bridgette, you are an adult. At least, you're more of an adult than I am."

"Yeah, right Courtney." The blonde rolled her eyes playfully. "You've always been more of an adult since we were sixteen. Seriously, I wished I was at your level of maturity then. I still do sometimes."

The brunette turned to look at Bridgette, confused. "You actively witnessed me throw temper tantrums on international television almost every week. I literally filed a lawsuit and got special treatment like a spoiled brat. And as far as I'm concerned manipulating people isn't mature."

"See, that's your problem." Bridgette pointed at her friend dramatically. "You always look at the negative parts. What about the positives? You were a natural leader, albeit there were some issues. You were way more compassionate than what the cameras showed, and you handled a lot of the challenges maturely, like you weren't sixteen facing death."

"That's bit dramatic." Courtney commented, raising an eyebrow.

Bridgette shrugged her shoulders. "But you're not denying it."

Dramatically huffing, Courtney turned away from Bridgette and crossed her arms, watching the television. Some celebrity news station was playing, talking about the latest nominees for some music award show that was happening the following Sunday.

The girls watched in silence for about five minutes, before Bridgette picked up a magazine and began reading it.

"Holy shit." Courtney muttered, reaching for the remote while staring at the television.

Bridgette looked at her confused, before she turned at the television.

Courtney turned the volume up.

"...where-as Justin Bieber is leading the nominees with six nominations," the woman was reading from a card, "right behind him with four nominations is Trent Rivers, pop sensation and ex-contestant on the Total Drama Series, where he participated in the first two seasons of the show. Since then, he has released three albums, his latest one, 'Hotel Conversations', recently going gold, with his leading single 'Your Soul' recently going 2x platinum. Rivers is also set to perform at the Music Awards and has publicly confirmed and accepted his invitation to the television reunion of Total Drama. Also set to perform includes-"

"Holy shit." Bridgette repeated her friend's words, staring at the screen. "I get we're famous and stuff, but Trent's on a whole different level."

Her friend responded with silence, blindly looking for her phone in the mess of magazines on the couch. When she found it, she immediately unlocked it and opened it to her snapchat, chatting Trent.

"you're super famous? four nominations at CMAs?" She wrote, before sending it to him and setting her phone down.

She then looked at Bridgette, who looked back just as shell-shocked.

"I bet he's loaded and has a nice mansion." Bridgette finally spoke, pushing her hair away from her face.

Before Courtney could respond, her phone started buzzing. She looked at it confused, before realizing it was a facetime call from the man of the hour. "Shit, it's Trent."

Bridgette gave her wide eyes, silently telling her to answer the phone.

So she did, and Trent, with his pushed back black hair and forest-green eyes but wearing a grey t-shirt, appeared on the screen.

"Courtney! Hey!" He greeted excitedly, voice a bit deeper since his time on the camera finished.

"Trent, what the hell?" Courtney questioned. She caught the look her blonde best friend was giving her, and continued talking. "Well, congrats on being nominated, but what the hell?"

"Congrats Trent!" Bridgette yelled from where she was sitting on the couch.

Trent smiled and started scratching the back of his neck, a classic move he never grew out of. Courtney noticed it almost immediately; he was showing his nerves too quickly. Then, like Courtney quietly predicted in her head, came the awkward, nervous laugh. "Hahaha, yeah, crazy right?" He did, however, acknowledge Bridgette with a hey! and thanks a bunch!

Courtney looked slightly annoyed but pleased as well. "I can't believe I didn't know about this. And you're performing, which is kind of cool." She commented. "How are you feeling about it?"

"The performance is pretty simple, so I'm not worried about that. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just assumed you knew already." He smiled sheepishly.

Rolling her eyes, Courtney smiled. "At least you're feeling confident about it. You're performing in front of millions of people across the country." The brunette paused for a second. "Sorry, I hope I'm not scaring you. But you know what I'm talking about, from one instrumentalist to another."

Trent laughed. "No worries, you're fine. And I've done a lot more embarrassing things in front of a camera too. Pretty relatable, from one ex-contestant to another."

"Oh of course, how could I forget that chunk of my life." Courtney snorted. Trent laughed on the other side. "But you're not nervous about the awards at all?"

The musician moved the camera a bit, so it was standing on something and his arms were fully shown. "I'm absolutely terrified about the awards. There are some really great artist in all the categories I'm in." He crossed his arms. "Justin Bieber included. Dude's gotta voice. And the fangirls from when he was twelve."

Courtney replied, "Don't forget to include yourself in those great artists nominated. You'll be fine, and I think you'll win something. I'll be here watching you from my couch!" She tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Yeah, about that," Trent began, scratching the back of his neck again. "I have something I want to ask you."

Bridgette turned and looked away from the magazine she was reading to Courtney, slyly listening to the conversation.

The Latina scrunched her eyebrows at the camera, genuinely confused. "Yeah, what's up?"

Trent cleared his throat, laughing awkwardly again. "Well, I figured since we haven't hung out in a while, and you may or may not be attending the reunion, I was wondering if uh, maybe, you'd come to the award show with me?" He asked. "Not as my date, but as my friend! I do actually miss you."

There was a moment of silence. Then, Courtney started laughing. "Wow, Trent, you're hilarious." She managed to get out, before handing the phone to Bridgette, who looked shocked at the question. "It sounded like you were asking me to the CMAs, which is crazy." She finished laughing, "Wow, I haven't laughed like that in awhile."

"Uhhh, I was asking you." Trent replied, nervous. He looked at Bridgette through the phone, who looked back at him, then at Courtney.

Courtney looked at Bridgette. "No, I'm not going. Sorry Trent. I don't have time to get a plane ticket, find a dress, get my hair done-."

"Courtney, I can get all of that done here. And I'll fly you out, as a token of my appreciation. Seriously, everything will be paid for by me, so there will be no financial responsibility on your end." Trent said all of this apprehensively, since he was looking at a blonde instead of a brunette and couldn't see Courtney's facial expressions.

The Latina froze. "She'll do it Trent. Buy the tickets." Bridgette answered for her friend.

"She will!?"

"She will!?"

Courtney looked at Bridgette. "I'm sorry, what. Bridgette there's no way I can go."

Bridgette looked confused. "Uh, yeah there is. It's all being paid for. This will be good for you Courtney."

"Bridgette I still have a job that I have to go to so I can, you know, pay my rent and have a place to stay."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Courtney, I know you are still a perfectionist, no matter what you say. You probably have a year of vacation time just waiting to be used."

Damn. She was right. Courtney did have a lot of vacation time; she's only missed one day of work, and it was a family emergency, so it really didn't count.

"This is happening too fast, Bridgette. I'm not ready?" Courtney's heartrate started picking up at that thought, since her first excuse blew up in her face.

"Ready for what? To have fun. Courtney, you'll be fine. And before you even say it, the reporters are not going to eat you alive. I promise. Trent will be with you the entire time; you'll have nothing to worry about."

From her phone, Trent added on, "Seriously Courtney, you will be safe by my side. I'll whisper jokes in your ear the entire time. I'll even wear my pajamas to the red-carpet event if that'll calm your nerves."

Courtney sighed. "Trent, I'm almost positive you wear your briefs to bed and that's it. I'm not sure the world is ready for all that." The trio laughed, Trent more nervously than others. After they finished laughing, Courtney looked at Bridgette, not as annoyed as she would have been if she was sixteen. "Why do I let you drag me into these things? Seriously, one day I'm going to have a heart attack or a lung collapse because of you."

Bridgette smiled wide. And Courtney could envision Trent fist-pumping on camera. "Court, seriously, you're the best in the whole world. I can't wait to see you! I'm going to buy the place tickets tonight."

The brunette shook her head. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's what everyone says."

The blonde handed Courtney's phone back to her, and the two musicians talked for another hour and the half, catching each other up on their worlds.

"Thanks for coming. I really didn't know who else to call."

A front door closed. There was stomping on a mat, fluffy snow melting onto it. Heavy boots were removed and left there, drying off. The winter draft was locked out, leaving the heat of the apartment.

"It's okay, I brought pizza." A smile reflected off of the other's, the two made their way to the living room.

They ate for a bit, settled in the silence of snow falling outside the window.

"Did you watch it?" She asked.

"Not yet, but I heard."

He looked up to her tears. When their eyes locked, he couldn't detect any anger.

"Sometimes I forget how annoying it is being filmed all the time. They caught everything." She mumbled. He grabbed another slice as she continued speaking. "I look like a fool. What was I thinking?"

"That you loved-."

"More like lost. I lost everything."

"You wanted perfection." He tried to argue. "You just wanted things to be perfect, and that's okay."

"I wanted him to be perfect without realizing he already was, just the way he is. And she saw that. And she took him from me, just like that. One kiss." Wiping her tears, she cleared her throat. It felt like she was drowning. "And even now, I still can't believe it. But then again I can. I was so angry then. Why? Why am I always angry?"

She looked at him, pleading for an answer with her eyes. "What do you want to hear?" he asked. It was an awkward situation.

In response, she released a breath and looked down. When the cannonball of her emotions blasted off and the smoke cleared, her anger was substituted for annoyance. "I want," she started, slowly, "to hear it wasn't my fault. That I wasn't a guilty party."

"Umm." He muttered. "You know I can't say that."

Her laugh was everything it shouldn't have been: dry, humorless, and weak. "I know."

It didn't take long before her laughing turned into sobbing, and when he got up and moved the pizza, he sat down next down to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his torso.

He knew exactly how she was feeling.

And when she finally finished, she spoke into his chest. "I asked you last year if I make him happy. I guess we know the answer now."

happy holidays everyone! here is the next installment of The Scales of Judgement. As always, thank you sooo much for the reviews, I appreciate all of them! For this chapter, I actually sat down and wrote it over a course of the past week, so it isn't just one sitting (which is kind of unhealthy now that I think about it) (and I'm hoping the quality of the chapter is the same as the others if not a bit better). And like I mentioned in the first chapter, I really only have a beginning, middle, and end planned out, so except the ingredients to get crazy at times!

but yeah, everything is getting pretty crazy now. I'm excited though! a lot of this chapter focused on the young men in Courtney's life and their effect, hence the title. And for reference, the italicized conversations are past events, not necessarily flashbacks Courtney is actually seeing in the present.

Let me know what you think by leaving a review friends! If not, maybe the follow button is more your style. Thanks again for tuning in, and cheers to the new year!