Justin's POV:

I was sitting in the back of a black limousine with Ryan Good, my stylist and motivator. We were being driven back from the Grammys, I was still quite down, after all I hadn't won best newcomer. I mean, who the fuck is Esperanza Spalding?

I didn't want to see anyone at the moment, so my crew decided it was best if only Ryan went with me. They thought he might cheer me up, he was always so loud and happy and entertaining. No one around him could be unhappy for long, except me.

He seemed to sense that I didn't want to talk, so I used the drive home to think about my life, to think about what was going on and who I was. I was gripped by a feeling of loneliness and I was suddenly freezing cold, I felt in need of a hug and someone to be there for me. I plugged in my iPod-headphones and turned the music up to maximum volume, trying to shut out the world around me. Then I felt myself falling asleep.

We were about halfway to the hotel, when Ryan decided to wake me up and break the silence we had kept the whole ride. "You know, it could be worse Justin. You're an amazing singer with millions of fans-" He began a speech to cheer me up but I interrupted him. "Yeah are you sure about that?" I asked. "About what?" – "About the possibility of my situation being worse!" – "Oh come on Justin, don't be a diva! What's so awful about your life?" – "Well number one, I don't have a private life anymore, number two, no one is there for me, I have no friends. I know my team is always backing me up, but at the end of the day you're all getting paid for it and number three, ... look my life is more complicated than you think!"

I didn't continue shouting angrily at him, because I saw Ryan was clearly hurt by what I had said. That brought tears into my eyes and trying to avoid his gaze I looked out of the window onto the lights of the city and the reflections on the ground, caused by the heavy rain outside. "You know, Justin, whatever! You want to be a jerk, be a fucking jerk. We put up with all your self-pity everyday, you chose this life, stop moaning about it!" – "Ryan it's not my life as a popstar that bothers me, I'm actually really happy, it's just… I'm sorry for overreacting."

I had tears in my eyes, I didn't want to make him angry, hell I didn't want to disrespect my crew, I love them and I know they love me, too. "Justin what's bothering you then? What makes you so mad at us?" – "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself! I'm living a lie! I'm so scared! I'm… I'm … gay…"

I broke down, I was sobbing into my hands and cowering as far away from Ryan as I could with my seatbelt on, because I was scared of what his reaction might be. I could hear him talk to me, but I didn't hear his words, then they finally died out. After I had calmed down a bit, I looked up at him and he was staring at me with a neutral expression on his face, he looked like he was deep in thought, but he didn't look angry, I was relieved.

Right then something behind him caught my attention. We were crossing a busy intersection and through the window behind him I saw the front lights of a truck coming towards us through the pouring rain not far away, a big truck, a giant fucking truck and it was getting closer by the second, the truck didn't seem to get any slower and I could hear more and more car horns go off around us. I didn't even have time to scream or react in any way. The truck collided with us, I could see the shattered glass of the window behind Ryan flying towards me, I saw him getting tossed forward and then I noticed that the color was fading away. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the car seat feeling something wet and warm running down my face. I couldn't make sense of what had just happened, I only noticed that instead of on the car floor my feet were on the road. Slowly the world around me started to fade away. Then suddenly I felt myself falling into an endless pit of darkness.