Some shit's about to go down!

"So how'd you find me?" Lacey asked as we strolled down the streets of LA. After our surprise reunion we decided the best thing to do was to go for a walk and talk. I was fine with the idea, but Lacey was paranoid that someone would see her. She insisted we take a few back streets at first, and then work our way back to the studio. We left the studio and took a left down Brownian Ave. Avoiding being recognized, Lacey tried to disguise her self as best she coudl. Her black Prada sunglasses covered half of her face, while her hair was pulled back in a tight pony tail. She didn't smile or laugh, or even talk most of the time. She walked looking down and never lost focus on the ground.

"I didn't mean to find you," I admitted, "I had no idea you'd be at the studio. Alex told me…" Lacey stopped dead in her tracts and looked up at me frantically. Her green eyes peeked over her sunglasses as she barked: "what did Alex tell you?"

"He didn't tell me anything," I replied, taking off down the street. "He said that they found a replacement bassist while Zack was with his girlfriend back in Baltimore. He never said it was going to be you."

Lacey kept up with my pace as we rounded another corner. We were a few blocks away from the apartments I stayed at when I recorded my album. I figured we could stop and talk there if Lacey wanted.

"It's funny," Lacey laughed, "I thought you were going to kill me." The thought of her and Kennedy sleeping together crawled back into my head and my teeth began to grind. No, Britta. I scorned myself. You heard Gloria, you have to forgive Lacey.

"I'm not going to kill you," I shook my head. My voice wasn't as confident as I imagined it coming out. "I promise." That sounded a little better, but Lacey's worried look remained on her pale expression.

"I'm really sorry about what happened," she replied, looking down again. "You know I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know you didn't." I stopped short. The park a few steps ahead. I waved Lacey in after me and planted a seat on a bench. Lacey sat down and hesitated to peel off the glasses.

"Can I ask you something?" Lacey looked up at me and shyly nodded her head. "Why are you so worried about being recognized, or paparazzi?"

"Because I don't want anyone to know I'm here," Lacey admitted through a sigh. She kicked the ground with her converse. She looked up at me and then back at the ground.

"Lacey," I whispered, "I thought you were in New York. Everyone thought you were in New York. John's going crazy, Jess is freaking out. We thought you were dead, or hurt, or having a meltdown somewhere."

Lacey laughed and brushed some hair out of her face. "I was in New York," she clucked her tongue, "I was in New York, working for Jess. John Ohh was in New York too." She choked. I didn't want to interrupt her. "I told him I loved him that I wanted to be with him."

"That's great," I whispered.

"You know what he said?" she looked at me, her eyes were glossy. She sharply exhaled through her nose, "he said." Her voice was shaking. She swallowed hard and I watched as her chin began to quiver. "He said he loved Carolyn. He said he always has."

"Oh Lace," I leaned.

"Oh that's not all," she cried. I backed away and let her finish. She slapped her hands down in her lap and gazed up at the sky. "He knew," she began. "He knew the whole damn time. He knew about Carolyn and Gwen switching right before Gwen died. He knew Carolyn was alive this whole time, and worst of all, he knew Madison was his the whole time."

I tried to think of something to say, but I couldn't. I sat there in shock and watched as Lacey broke down. "What about Justin?" I finally asked, "I thought he was Madison's father."

Lacey shook her head and gazed up at the sky "um um." She tore at a hangnail on her left thumb, "he would have been if Madison was Gwen's daughter. Gwen was never pregnant. Carolyn was the pregnant one and she knew she couldn't be a model if she was pregnant. Gwen went to the shoot for her and got killed for it. John knew and said nothing. John had been sleeping with Carolyn behind my back for years. His own brother won't even talk to him."

"Come here." Lacey fell into me but she refrained from crying. She rested her head on my shoulder and I rubbed her arm. "So that's why you left New York?"

"I couldn't stay there anymore; I moved out here as soon as Antonio and I's marriage was annulled. I got hired at a different modeling agency and I've been doing a few music gigs on the side."

"So that's why Jess didn't know where you were!" I whispered to myself.

"Please don't tell her!" Lacey begged, pulling away from my shoulder. "I don't want her to think I left because I didn't like the agency. I love Jess and I love J^2 but I couldn't stay in New York."

"I won't tell her," I sighed, "Jess wouldn't understand anyway. She still thinks Wiley is going to show up at her door and want her back. I heard he's already got a new girlfriend."

"Oh yeah, me too…" Lacey trailed off, she was hiding something. "So John's really worried about me huh?" Lacey hunched over and stuck the tips of her fingers between her lips.

I reached for my phone: "Yeah, I should probably tell him you're safe…"

"No!" Lacey exclaimed, "John can't know where I am. If John know's he'll tell Jess. I don't want anyone to know where I am, or that you know where I am. You have to promise me you won't say anything to anyone."

"I promise." We locked pinkies and I smiled. "It's really nice to have my best friend back."

"I missed you. We have a lot to talk about and there's something I've been meaning to tell you…"

My phone started going off in my pocket and I whipped it out. "Hey," I answered.

"Hello Wifey," Eric cooed into the phone. Lacey, ignoring the fact that I had a phone up to my ear, continued to ramble.

"Baby, I have to go okay," I said into the phone.

"So tonight, I think we should have a sleepover," Lacey suggested, "you know so we can catch up on things."

I shook my head, "A sleepover sounds great."

"Sleepover?" Eric's voice exclaimed in the background.

"Eric, I really have to go okay."

"The only thing is, is I don't have pajamas," Lacey continued to ramble.

"Oh who needs pajamas anyway?" I laughed.

"WHAT?" Eric exclaimed. "Britta, who are you with?"

"No one baby, I love you, bye!" I hung up and shoved the phone in my pocket. I would call him back later and explain everything…wait. I couldn't explain everything. I had just promised Lacey I wouldn't tell anyone I knew where she was. I couldn't tell Eric, because he'd tell John. John would tell Jess, and she's asume Lacey left because of her. Obviously Lacey didn't want to be found and I coudln't just blow her cover. How was I goign to explain this to Eric. Shit. I'd have to think of a plan later. I shook the thoughts from my head and focused back on Lacey. She had stopped talking and was now staring at the seagulls that were scalping the ground for any scraps of food. Her pursed lips were highly glossed and her trademark crimson hair was a few shades lighter. LA was slowly changing her and I didn't know if I liked it. She was still beautiful though, even more beautiful then I remembered. My mom always said "a women looks her most stunning right after she has felt her worst coming." I guess Lacey's bad times were coming. They were sitting on her shoulders and she had no idea how to get past them. There was no way I could leave her in LA tomorrow. I'd have to stay a few more days. It wouldn't do any harm.

"We should, uh; we should get back to the studio. They guys are gonna get worried." Lacey stood and wrapped her hair up around the nape of her neck. Pulling up her hood she tucked it in and folded up her glasses. Getting up from the bench I gave her a once over and chuckled, "Lacey, you look like a dude."

"Well thanks," she rolled her eyes. We laughed for a second and finally I stepped forward. "Come here." She wrapped me into a hug and I squeezed her tight. "You have no idea how much I needed to run into you," she whispered. She dug her face into my neck and I knew she was trying not to cry. In the distance I heard a snap and soon a flash swept over my side. The fucking paparazzi had followed us to the park! I flipped them off before Lacey could realize she'd just been photographed and led her out of the park. She kept her hood up as we walked and her eyes focused on the ground before her. I tucked my arm around her waist and sighed. "I promise you, everything will be okay."

***

Eric's POV-

"WHAT?" I yelled into the phone, "Britta, who are you with?" She was barely talking to me and all I kept hearing was the mentions of a sleepover. Britta was there to record with All Time Low, not have sleepovers. Who would this sleepover be with? Gaskarth? Oh hell no!

"No one, baby. I love you, bye!" And the line went dead. I clicked end and dropped the phone in my lap. Everyone looked at me in anticipation. We were sitting at a booth at Friendly's, waiting for the food to come. Hawke sat happily at the end of the table, oblivious to what was going on.

"So what did she say?" Sam asked. She sat next to Jesse in the booth across from me. Her side salad that came out early sat before her and she picked at the cherry tomatoes. "Eric, what'd she say?"

"She said she couldn't talk and she had to go," I replied. I looked back down at my phone hoping she'd call me back. She'd say "sorry Lovey, I was driving." Or "that was just a joke; I can talk all you want." But the phone never rang.

"Dude, she's probably at the studio recording. She can't really talk while she's singing and writing and stuff," Nick justified, "you know how it is."

"I know," I shook my head. "Jesse, what does uh? What does the website say?"

"Eric, I'm not using the internet to stalk your wife." Jesse plucked his phone off the table and juggled it between his fingers.

"Why not?" I snapped, "everyone else does, she's fucking Britta."

"Eric," Tiffany slapped my arm, "can you hear yourself?"

"She's famous okay!" I exclaimed, "there's got to be something on the internet saying something about her, she's fucking Britta!"

"Yeah Eric," Nick sighed, "she's Britta Halvorsen; your wife, the girl you know better than anyone. She might be famous, but you can't treat her like she's some…celebrity. You of all people should know that Britta hates that. She loves being a mom, and she loves being your wife. You have no reason not to trust her. Just let it go."

"Fine!" I barked, "If you guys aren't going to find out, I will." I picked up my phone and opened the internet. Typing in TMZ in the address bar, my anxiety rose. The screen loaded and a few irrelevant faces sat before me. Nick looked over my shoulder and rolled his eyes, "see! You have nothing to worry about!"

"Oh really!" I exclaimed, as I scrolled down the page. I clicked the link and a picture of Britta hugging someone filled the small screen. Their face was hidden into the crease of her neck, but some light brownish hair stuck out from under the hood. The caption read, "Britta canoodles with a new mystery man in the park."

"Whatever dude," Nick reclined back into his seat, "maybe it's a friend."

"A friend that she has sleepovers with?" I shot back.

"Maybe! I don't know Eric; all I know is that you need to trust her. Cut her some slack, I'm sure she misses you just as much as you miss her right now."

Britta's POV-

"Don't tell me you're sorry, when your backs against the wall.

Baby forget me, cause I'm about to fall.

I'm falling out…of…love…with youuuuu!"

Alex and I belted out the lyrics we had began writing once Lacey and I returned to the studio. He scribbled a few more words down and stuck the end of his pen in his mouth. "This is coming out really good," he said into the paper. I didn't know if he was complementing me or not.

"Okay so," Lacey jumped up on the counter in front of me, "I was thinking; tonight before our sleepover we hit The Hideout."

"What's The Hideout?" I asked. I wasn't hip to all the new LA lingo. Living in Arizona you learn three key terms; air conditioning, Chipotle, and music.

"It's a pretty fucking hott club," Lacey smiled, "you can meet some of my new friends. You know from the agency."

"That sounds, uh, great Lace," I forced a smile and returned to the journal I was writing in. Lacey hopped off the counter and sauntered away. Alex looked up quickly, then back at the paper, and back up at Lacey. I watched his eyes and scoffed.

"You know, you can say hello instead of staring at her ass the whole time," I teased. Alex rolled his eyes and bit the end of the pen harder. "She's fucking hott," he finally admitted.

"I wouldn't," I warned him, "her heart is so beyond fucked up."

"Who said anything about hearts? Since when are hearts in vaginas?"

"ALEX!" I yelled, "you fucking pig!"

"I'm kidding!" he threw up his hands in defense, "trust me, I wouldn't go there. I heard about her from…never mind. I just, I wouldn't go there."

"Heard about her from whom?" I asked, now intrigued.

"No one," Alex tossed the notebook down and took off towards the studio doors, "let's go see how Falling out Of Love with You sounds."

"Okay," I huffed and followed him in through the glass doors.

Lacey's POV-

I paced out of the mixing room and I knew for sure Alex was staring at my ass. I loved the attention, don't get me wrong, but Alex was not my type. Plus, Britta totally called him anyway. I stepped into the main room and pushed past a group of techys. Jack sat at the table with his feet kicked up on the table, holding a beer, and flipping through the channels on a tiny TV in the corner.

"I don't understand why you guys pay all this money for studio time if all you're gonna do is sit around and pick your ass." I joined Jack at the table and plucked the last beer out of the box. Cracking it open I took a sip and watched as Jack gave me googly eyes from across the table.

"Wanna go make out?" he asked, I wasn't sure if he was kidding or serious. Either way, I declined the offer.

Jack leaned back, lifting the front two legs of the chair off the floor, and folded his arms behind his head. "The only ones who use the studio time at this point in the process are Alex and Britta. Who the fuck needs me?" Jack leaned in, "I don't even know how to play guitar."

I laughed, and thankfully so did Jack. His sense of humor sucked, I reminded myself to tease him later about that.

We sat and watched the TV for a little bit until I decided to make conversation. "So tonight," I began, "Britta and I are going to The Hideout. You guys should come."

"That's a no can do," Jack grunted. "We are on a strict "no clubbing, partying, or streaking" plan with the new record. Why do you think we're drinking now? We have to go back to the hotel and sleep. Management is no joke."

"Well that sucks," I sighed, "some other time then." Jack shrugged and I returned my focus to the TV. Soon "tiK toK" played between us and Jack grabbed Britta's phone off the table. He read the screen and shoved it towards me.

"I can't answer!" I exclaimed, backing away, "no one can know I'm here!"

"Fine then," Jack hit talk and brought the phone up to his ear, "Hellllo. Nope, Britta can't talk right now. She's in the studio." Jack rolled his eyes.

"Remember I'm not here!" I hissed; with my luck he'd be talking to John.

"I don't think she can call you tonight either, she's going clubbing. With who?" Jack looked up at me! I air-sliced my throat and mouthed "not me!"

"Uh," Jack scratched his head, "with Alex. Yupp. Sleepover? Yupp, they're having a sleepover…?" Jack looked at me with confusion in his eyes and tone. "Alright, that's great buddy. Bye." He hung up the phone and placed it back on the table.

I sighed in relief that I hadn't come up in conversation. "Who was that anyway?" I asked.

Jack clicked the screen, "uh, Eric?"

"WHAT!" I exclaimed, "Jack, do you know what you just did?"

"Uhm, no…" he wrinkled his brow.

"Eric is Britta's husband! And you just told him Alex and her were having a sleepover!"

"Well then call him back and say that it's really you and her that are having the sleepover," Jack suggested; like it was that easy.

"Eric can't know I'm in LA!" I growled, "that's why you had to lie and say it was Alex in the first place."

"Well then what do you want to do?" Jack looked at me and took a swig of beer.

"Eric's gonna call back," I formulated a plan. "But he can't talk to Britta, if her phone doesn't work!" I snatched her phone off the table and unhooked the back. I pulled out the battery and slid it in my pocket. "There, problem solved."

Thanks for reading!! :)

reviews would be lovely and also really help me expand on the story!!