"You guys have to go back," said Janis Joplin.

"Back?"

"Back."

They were leading us out of the wings into a long, backstage-like hallway.

"How long does this go on?" Jared Leto asked.

 Janis Joplin and John Lennon started running in response. We followed.

The hallway eventually lead to a room whose door was emitting an heavenly white glow. Our hosts stopped dead just before the door.

"Where do you want to go?" Janis Joplin asked.

"L.A.?" Jared Leto proposed.

"No good," John Lennon put in. "You both were just found dead there."

"Wait," Jared Leto asked. "Both?"

"Well, you're both going back, aren't you?"

"I ain't taking her nowhere."

"Oh yes you are!" I was up in his face, shouting at him again. "You got me killed for whatever F**KING reason, you're taking me with you!"

Neither of our hosts looked like they wanted to take sides.

"Fine!" Jared Leto yelled. "I'll take you. But if you get in the way, you're coming right back here."

"What's the worse they can do to me?"

I had him there.

"Ready?" John Lennon asked.

"Yes."

"Where are we going again?"

I didn't get an answer. The light from the open door just blinded me.

"Despite the number of celebs that get arrested," Jared Leto explained. "The EI--Entertainment Industry--has its own court system, the CPSAHOAEIM."

John Lennon clarified.

"The Committee for Policing and Sentancing the Activities of Hollywooders and Other Associated Entertainment Industry Members."

"Ah. That makes perfect sense."

"There's civilian laws," Janis Joplin explained. "Which still apply in the EI. Not killing people, for example. But the EI has other laws punishable by fines or jail time. Split ends, or unnecessary racoon eyeliner."

"And," John Lennon added. "All the subgroups of the EI get along under the CPSAHOAEIM's watchful but liberal eye. The goths and the hippies and the stoners and the punks and the preppy tween idols...they all live in perfect harmony with each other, man."

"But the balance has been upset," Jared Leto put in. "The RSP--"

"RSP?"

"Rehab/Scandal Prone. The Rehab/Scandal Prone are trying to kill off all the smaller subgroups. They call it the CPBWEGEPORDM."

"Huh...?"

"The Coalliton to Purify and Beautify the World by Eliminating Goths/Emos, Punks, and Other Related Dangerous Minorities."

"Ohhhhh..."

"Basically," John Lennon told me. "Your Zac Efrons and Paris Hiltons are trying to massacre your Marilyn Mansons and Green Days."

"Thats sucks.I like Marilyn Manson and Green Day."

"Yeah," said Jared Leto. He sat back in his chair. "And you know what? Despite my oaths, I'm not even going to let death stop me from seeing this through till the end."

Now, I know that Jared Leto had acted nobly in throwing me out of harm's way and whatnot, but that didn't change the fact he got me killed. I stomped up to him and started punching every inch of his body i could get my hands on.

"What's your problem?!"

"You got me killed!"

"You tried to pick me up!"

"You would have liked it!"

Jared Leto grabbed my wrists and held them in front of his face.

"I know you're angry but beating me will get you nowhere."

"Well what am I supposed to do?"

"Talk."

This was Janis Joplin, turned around in her seat to look at us.

"Come talk."

I looked at her---she was actually THERE, HER---and back to Jared Leto, who grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the table. She slammed me down in a seat and took one for himself.

A waitress brought us drinks. She didn't card me, but I guess when you're dead and the alcohol is only a dimensional illusion, drinking age doesn't matter.

"To the fallen soldier," said Janis Joplin, raising her glass. We all followed suit mechanically.

"We watched you die," she explained. "Guess who killed ya'll."

Jared Leto growled.

"Take it easy, man," said John Lennon. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and surveyed us. "Take a breather."

"Figuratively," Janis Joplin added, and laughed.

Jared Leto seemed resigned. He drank his hooch and stared at the table, stony-faced.

I wanted answers.

I slammed my hand on the table to get them.

"What's going on here?"

They all looked at me.

"You don't know?" asked John Lennon.

"Who is she?" Janis Joplin inquired.

"She's on the outside," Jared Leto answered both of them. He leaned back in his chair. "I failed and took a civilian with me."

"Huh?" I asked.

"Why was she with you, anyway?"

"Who is she?"

"Is she a hooker?"

They were all looking at me.

"What-is-going-on? Why-did-the-heiress-want-to-kill-you?"

Jared Leto prepped himself for explaining.

"You know how, a lot fo the time, in Hollywood, and...certain stars just hate each other?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, you know how they form factions and secret societies and have their own police force and judicial board?"

"No."

"We've got to explain some stuff to her first."

Allow me to explain dying.

First, there's a deafening roar, then rushing water, then gentle silence. The feeling of your soul leaving your body is one of complete and total freedom. For awhile there's nothing, but then you get pulled back into form and being again, but it doesn't carry the same weight as flesh and blood being.

 When I dropped back into form, I was standing in the expansive wings of a giant stage. People scurried here and there, mostly groupies. But there were a couple faces that were actually familiar.

 Janis Joplin and John Lennon were sharing a table in the wings over drinks. Even though I knew I would be uncool in the afterlife, I decided to go and introduce myself, as long as I was here.

 And then I saw him, looking frantic and for someone from his own generation; my never-quite-was-john, Jared Leto.

Jared Leto was not the kind of john I would usually pick up. He wasn't a john for anybody at all. He was just standing in the alleyway, trying casually to look this way and that. He shook his head at me.

"Move on, sweetheart."

"But you're all alone..."

"Leave..."

"I haven't eaten in three days!"

He stared at me for a moment, then sighed and reached in his coat for his wallet. Before he could get any money out, we heard footsteps coming down the alleyway.

"Jack?" Jared Leto asked.

"No."

Jared Leto's eyes widened, and he stumbled backward, throwing me on the ground behind him.

"Who's she?" This voice was a woman's, strangely familiar.

"She's nobody. Leave her alone."

"No witnesses."

"She's a NOBODY!"

Jared Leto took a pistol from his jacket, and there was a bang, but it was Jared Leto who gave an angry cry and dropped down on his knees. He didn't get a chance to raise his weapon again before another rang out, and he landed on the pavement beside me, skull cracked.

The woman who had shot him walked forward, high heels clomping on the pavement. I pulled myself up to try and look at her, but she kicked me in the jaw and sent me sprawling.

I realized who it was the instant the bullet crashed into my skull, sending bone and brains all over the alleyway. There were two women. They were talking while snapping their gum. After the last gunshot but before the roaring silence, one of them said into the darkness; "we actually killed them. That's hot."

_{^{There are lots of different ideas about what Heaven is like. Some people believe in fluffy clouds and harps, some in love-making on satin sheets with young beautiful virgins, some in frolicking in endless summer fields until they return to Earth and the living once more.}}