Life Loves A Tragedy

Kat Waters

 

Julie Kinsington glanced at her reflection and sighed, exasperated, before pulling the bathroom door open to head back downstairs to the party.  Like so many parties before it, she found herself wishing that things were different, that things were like they used to be.  Before she moved to San Francisco with her father.  Before her mother… Julie pushed the thoughts from her mind and tried to put on her party face.

 

            Suddenly, there was a tug on her arm, and Julie drew her breath in sharply, panicking for just a second before realizing it was only her best friend, Sam.  “What the fuck, Sam?” Julie said, pulling her arm away. 

 

            “How can you stand this?” Sam gushed.  “All of these,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, as though what she was about to say was some kind of secret, “rock stars!

 

            Julie stopped herself from smacking her best friend in the face.  “Actually, Sam, I can’t stand it.  At all.” 

 

            “I don’t understand you, Julie.  You have some of the coolest, sexiest rock stars,” again with the dramatic whisper, “in your house, and you don’t seem at all phased by it!”

 

            “That’s because I’m not phased by it, Sam.  My father has been having this kind of people in our house since before I knew what ‘Unskinny Bop’ even meant.”  She paused.  “And actually, now that I do know, I think it’s rather stupid.”

 

            “I don’t get it!  Even if I lived with these people all of my life, I’d still be out of my mind about it!”

 

            “No, you wouldn’t.  Trust me on this one.  They’re crude, loud, obnoxious drunks who will fuck anything warm and wet.  The only difference between them and the frat boys we berate is big hair and a lot more money.  What’s to be excited about?”

 

            “What’s to be excited about?  How can you honestly compare people like Phil Collen and C.C. Deville to frat boys?”

 

            “C.C. who?”  Without giving her friend a chance to respond, Julie sighed.  “Look, Sam, as much as I’d love to stand here and talk about all the super-cool bad boys that my dad lets schmooze around his house, I have to go be seen.  Unfortunately, I promised my father I’d help him out.”

 

            “Well, fuck, if you don’t want to, I—“

 

            “No.  No, Sam, you won’t.  I’ll call you later, got it?”  Julie ignored the disappointed expression on her friend’s face and started to walk away.  She turned at the top of the stairs and added, “Don’t make an ass out of yourself on the way out.  Seriously, Sam, these guys are fucks.”  Thus saying, she began to descend the staircase reluctantly.

 

 

 

§

 

            Upon reaching the foot of the stairs, Julie knew there was virtually no possibility of actually locating her father.  The entire downstairs was packed with people, mostly ones she didn’t recognize, and most of them looking quite intoxicated.  For a moment, she considered just going back upstairs, telling Sam to stay, and just telling her father that something important came up between the two of them and she couldn’t get away to help out at the party.  She knew, though, that her father would likely see through the flimsy excuse, and besides, listening to Sam gush about the rock stars crawling all over the house would be almost as tedious as actually dealing with them in person.  At least this way her father would be happy.

 

            Julie stepped down from the final step on the staircase and began pushing her way through the crowd toward the kitchen.  Serving champagne or finger foods was probably the easiest chore she could think of to undertake.  That way, she never had to say more than a quick, “Hello,” and it never looked like she was being evasive.  Her father would probably tell her that they “had people to do that, Jule!” but he counted it as “helping out” just the same. 

 

As she pushed her way through the smoky, loud swarm of people, Julie felt eyes on her and glanced toward the doorway leading from the foyer into the living room.  Leaning against the doorframe was one of the many longhaired musicians that she spent so much time trying to ignore.  He looked familiar, Julie supposed, but then, didn’t they all?  They were constantly on the cover of magazines, their pictures covered the walls in parts of the house, and besides, they all looked the same, anyway.  She found herself pausing for just a minute, meeting his gaze.  She couldn’t help but notice he looked a little less into the scene than most of the other partygoers did.  He had a mane of thick blond hair, much like half of the other people that their nights in her house, but there was something about him that seemed just a little different.  The piercing blue eyes, maybe. 

 

Julie blinked and turned away, realizing that she and this strange metalhead had been staring at each other for nearly half a minute.  She glanced back up, just for a second, just long enough to see him drop his gaze quickly and take a sip of the drink he was holding.  She shrugged off the weirdness of the fact that one of these guys, with all of their flashiness and stage presence, had just been unable to hold her gaze, and continued on her way to the kitchen.

 

She found her father drinking glasses of champagne with some important looking men in suits.  That, Julie decided, made him considerably more approachable than if he was talking to those ratty-haired band people.  She went up and stood next to him, waiting for him to finish the conversation he was having.

 

After a moment her, he noticed her and smiled.  “Hey, Jule!  Mike, Scott, this is my daughter, Julianna.” 

 

            Julie shook the men’s hands.  “Julie,” she corrected her father, smiling.  “Anyway, Daddy, Sam just left, so I’m just going to serve some champagne, okay?”

 

            “We have people to do that, Jule,” her father admonished lightly. 

 

§

 

            Four hours later, the party was only barely winding down – maybe 125 people instead of 200.  Julie had been racing around serving drinks and snacks for the entire night, pausing only to take a phone call from Sam, who wanted to know if she’d met some person named Nikki Sixx.  “Oh, they’re numbering them now?” Julie had scoffed.  “I’m sure I met him, and Nikkis Seven and Eight, too.” Then she hung up. 

 

            The whole night had been nothing but loud, smoky rudeness, and Julie’s entire body was beginning to ache.  Also as the night had gone on and the revelers had gotten progressively more drunk and blitzed on whatever else was going around the place, they’d been making more and more slurring passes at her.  At the moment, she couldn’t think of many horrors more unsettling than having scary musicians that reeked of whiskey with cigarettes hanging out of their months telling her how “delicious” she was.  One of them had even said something about cherry pie.  Julie shuddered just thinking about it.  Finally, her father came up behind her and took the now nearly empty tray of champagne glasses out of her hands.

 

            “You look beat,” he said.  “I think I can wrap this up myself, if you want to split.”

 

            Julie wiped a strand of hair from her face.  “Are you sure?” she said, keeping her sarcastic tone low enough so that only he could hear her.  “I’m having such a good time.”

 

            Her father laughed.  “Sure, I’m sure.  You worked hard enough tonight.”

 

            She frowned at him.  “Daddy, there’s still over a hundred people here, and all I did was serve.  Why are you letting me off so easily?”

 

            Her father motioned for her to follow him into the study, which was a welcome change of pace from the bustling party.  He set the tray down on the coffee table and shut the door.  “Actually, Jule, I was hoping you’d do me a favor.”

 

            “If it involves any of these guys and a hot tub, I’m going to have to say no.”

 

            He smiled.  “Scantily clad women and men with guitars is definitely a good sales pitch, but that doesn’t mean I want my little girl involved.”  He paused.  “No, seriously, Jule.  You know I’m leaving in the morning, for a little while.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “Yeah.  If this is some kind of ‘Don’t have wild parties’ schpiel, you’re wasting your breath.  I am the antithesis of a party girl, thanks to you.”

 

            “No, no, it’s not that.  You also know no one else is going to be here while I’m gone, either – we don’t need any cooking staff and such when there aren’t any events going on.”  Julie nodded.  “Well, a friend of mine is going to be staying here, and I was just wondering if you could just kind of… you know, look after him.”

 

            “Well, sure, but, aren’t most of your friends totally capable of – wait a minute.  Wait a minute.  By ‘friend’, please tell me you don’t mean one of those scary freaks that are probably pissing in the swimming pool right now.” 

 

            “They’re not scary freaks, pumpkin, they’re… musicians.”  His daughter glared at him.  “Okay, fine, they’re scary freaks.  But sweetie, when you’re in this business, you have to make some sacrifices.”

 

            “And when you’re the daughter of someone in this business, you have to baby-sit people who are willing to be famous because of a band that calls itself Ratt.”  Julie sighed.  “Why does he have to stay here?”

 

            “To be honest, Jule, I’m not sure what’s going on.  He’s having some kind of… I don’t know, personal problems, whatever that means.  I don’t know why he can’t stay somewhere else.  I just know that this will look very good for me, so I said he could stay here.  Come on, Jule, help your old man out?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “It’s gonna cost you.”

 

            Her father laughed.  “You’re a good sport.  I’d better get back out there, but listen, I won’t be gone very long and I’m sure you’ll be fine here.”  He paused before he opened the door.  “Listen, Jule, these guys… you’re right, they’re a little… loose.  So, ah, you know, don’t…”

 

            She raised an eyebrow.  “Is this the part where we talk about hot tubs?  Really, Dad, you have nothing to worry about.  I’d rather eat paint chips.”

 

            Her father nodded.  “Yeah.  Well.  Good, good.  Love you, kiddo.”  Thus saying, he walked out.

 

§

 

            Julie stood for a long moment in front of the mirror and contemplated her reflection, wondering if she really was pretty, or if she was merely female, and that was the only standard the kind of people she was forced to associate with had.  She supposed she was at least moderately attractive, although she didn’t know exactly what you had to look like to be referred to as “cherry pie”.  She guessed that her long, dark red hair with its slight wave was a bit pretty, although perhaps rather plain, and she admitted that her green eyes were perhaps more of a vibrant shade than some eyes she’d seen.  Sam was always telling her that she had a complexion like cream and lips to die for, but Julie wasn’t entirely sure what “like cream” entailed and couldn’t imagine wanting to die for any sort of lips.  She took a few steps back and dropped the towel she was wearing to the floor to study her body.  She was thin enough, she guessed; weight had never particularly mattered to her.  She was nearly 5’8”, so she carried her 125 pounds well, and the term “dancer’s legs” had been tossed around a lot in her presence.  But still, she didn’t see why all of her father’s clients stared at her the way they did.  Ogled was more like it.  She certainly wasn’t one of those bleached, augmented girls that sleazed around with the musicians. 

 

            Shrugging at her reflection, Julie grabbed a tee shirt and pulled it on, then put her hair up messily in a clip.  Finally, the house seemed to have quieted down, and she guessed that anyone who hadn’t left was sitting around in the living room trying to decide just how many times past the legal limit was too drunk to drive home.  She wondered if she could sneak into the kitchen for a bottle of water without being noticed, and decided that even if she was spotted, she wouldn’t look like much through blurry, drunken eyes.

 

            She went quickly and quietly down the stairs, not making a sound, and went through the study to access the kitchen through a barely used hallway that led to it, so as to avoid the living room entirely.  The kitchen was mercilessly empty, and she opened the refrigerator door and just stared for a moment, wondering where the bottles of water were. 

 

            “They got any water in there?”

 

            Julie snapped to attention and drew in her breath sharply, whirling to face whoever had just spoken to her.  It was the guy from the living room doorway.  She found herself flushing hot red, suddenly self-conscious of how little she was wearing.  “What?” she said dumbly.

 

            “Water,” he repeated.  “Is there any water in there?”  He paused.  “Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

            “Oh… you didn’t.  Well, I mean, I didn’t realize anyone else was in here.”  She cleared her throat.  You sound like a halfwit, she chided herself internally.  “Anyway, I was just looking for some water myself, but I have to warn you, it’s non-alcoholic.”  Just then she spotted a few bottles of water and grabbed two, then closed the refrigerator door. 

 

            He came across the room and took one of the bottles.  “Thanks,” he said, smiling a little.  “And thanks for the warning, but someone told me water had no alcohol content and I thought I’d give it a try.”

 

            Julie smiled.  “Well, don’t let looks deceive you.  It tastes nothing like Absolut.”

 

            “That’s a relief.” He took a long swallow from the bottle. 

           

            “Drinking dehydrates you,” Julie noted, watching him drink.

 

            “That it does,” he agreed.  “However, so does singing, and I’m afraid a long day in the studio contributed more to my sore throat than the three pathetically weak screwdrivers I’ve had tonight.”

 

            Surprising, that.  “Oh, really, I’d just assumed that you’d have kicked back a few bottles of 151 and would be having a vomit distance contest off of the balcony with the rest of your friends by now.”

 

            He laughed.  “I’m glad to see we’re not stereotyped.  Anyway, I’m Bret.”  He extended a hand.

 

            She tentatively shook it.  “Julie.”

 

            “Nice to meet you.  You don’t seem like the typical metal groupie chick,” he noted.

 

            Julie couldn’t help but laugh.  “I couldn’t name three metal songs if my life depended on it.”

 

            Bret looked confused.  “Well, you don’t seem like the type who’s in it just because we’re rich…”

 

            “What do you mean by ‘in it’, exactly?”

 

            “You know, the whole groupie scene.  If you don’t mind my saying so, you don’t quite look the part, either.”

 

            “Yeah.  You’ll have to excuse the lack of bleach and small breasts.”

 

            Bret laughed.  “That isn’t what I mean!  I actually meant you’re better-looking than they are.”

 

            Julie didn’t speak for a minute.  Finally, she said, “Well, thanks, I think.”

 

            “You’re welcome.  I was just trying to say that I hadn’t seen you around before tonight.” 

 

            “Well, I don’t exactly go out of my way to get noticed.  I keep my shirt on most of the time, even.”  She looked at him for a minute.  “Although, I have to say a lot of the other guys around here seem to have noticed me.  Not in a pleasant way.”

 

            “Well… I have to admit I try to pay as little attention as possible at these things.  Sorry about that.”  He took another long swallow of water.

 

            “Don’t be.”  She thought about the evening and all of the weird passes that had been made at her.  “Really.  Don’t be.  Anyway, I should be more ashamed of the fact that I don’t even know what band you’re in.  Isn’t every girl my age supposed to worship your guitar, or something?” 

 

            “Ha.  What age is a girl your age, anyway?”

 

            “I’m eighteen, and kindly don’t tell me I look younger, because I know.”

 

            Bret smiled.  She had to admit he had a nice smile.  “I wouldn’t have said that.  And it’s actually refreshing to talk to a girl who doesn’t know who I am, believe me.”

 

            “We’re a dying breed, it seems.”  A few moments passed between the two of them, both silently sipping their water and looking uncomfortable.  “Well, Bret,” Julie finally said, “As much as I’d like to stand here barefoot drinking water all night, it’s been a long party and I want to go pretend to be dead for a few hours.”

 

            Bret straightened up, and looked almost disappointed for a minute.  “Oh.  Right.  Yeah, it is kind of late, I guess.”  He stalled for a minute.  “It was really nice meeting you, Julie.”  He smiled that nice smile again and swaggered out of the room. 

 

            “This does not mean we like metalheads, Julianna,” Julie whispered to herself.

 

§

 

            The clock read 1:04pm when Julie finally managed to wake up enough to pull herself into a sitting position.  She hadn’t meant to sleep so late, but when the parties at her dad’s house ran well into the wee hours of the morning, it was par for the course.  She had hoped to get a chance to say goodbye to her father, but he’d probably been gone for at least four hours by now. 

 

            With a yawn, she crawled out of bed and slowly forced herself to go through the motions of getting dressed, idly wondering why she was bothering.  She chose a simple pink tanktop and black jeans, then put her hair in the same clip she’d had it in last night before leaving the room.  Upon entering the hallway, she heard the water in the shower running, and suddenly remembered what her father had asked of her the night before.  “Shit,” she said to herself.  The bathroom door was partially ajar and she glanced into the steamy room for a second before heading to the stairs.  Thank goodness the room was steamy enough that she didn’t have to see anything she didn’t want to, anyway.

 

            Once downstairs, Julie mechanically started a pot of coffee, guessing that coffee making was something you did when you had overnight guests.  She hoped whoever was staying there didn’t expect to be cooked for, because Julie hardly ever cooked for herself, much less anyone else.  She wondered if these people were even capable of doing things for themselves as complicated as making lunch, and chided herself for being so catty all the time. 

 

            “Smells good,” came a voice from behind her. 

 

            “It’ll be ready in a minute,” Julie responded without turning around.  She lit a cigarette.  As soon as she put her lighter down, a hand reached over her shoulder and snatched it back up.  She turned, ready to say something snide, when she realized it was Bret standing behind her.  He looked equally surprised to see her.

 

            “Julie,” he said.  He seemed about to say more, but didn’t.

 

            “Hello, Bret.  I guess you get points for remembering my name.”  She paused.  “How do you like your coffee?”

 

            “What?  Oh, um, black.”  He lit his own cigarette.

 

            “I should have figured that, I guess.”  She poured him a cup and handed it to him. “So… since you obviously weren’t too drunk to drive yourself out of here, I assume that means you’re the,” she bit back ‘metalhead’, “person who’s staying here for a while?”

 

            “Yeah, but… oh, shit, are you Ted Kinsington’s daughter?”

 

            “Guilty.”  She considered saying something about the fact that she’d been rummaging around in the fridge in the middle of the night wearing only a tee-shirt being a good indication, but realized with disdain that she probably wasn’t the only barely-dressed girl who’d been caught doing that very thing.  “And you’re…” She had no idea.  “You’re not Ted Kinsington’s daughter.”

 

            Bret laughed.  “No, that I’m not.”  He took a sip of coffee and winced.

 

            Julie had to laugh.  “Black, huh?” 

 

            “People don’t drink whiskey for the flavor, either.”  He took another quick gulp.  “It’s the only thing that wakes me up in the morning.”

 

            “I’m sure.  Are you hungry?”

 

            Bret raised an eyebrow.  “And she cooks, too?”

 

            “No.  ‘She’ does not cook.  ‘She’ was merely asking if you were hungry.  Purely curiosity.”  Julie poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a long swallow. 

 

            Bret laughed.  “Well, in that case, thank you for your interest in the state of affairs of my digestive system, but no.  I can’t eat in the morning.”

 

            “Ah, maybe so, but this is not the morning.  This is mid-afternoon.  Most people have been awake long enough for two meals already,” Julie pointed out.

 

            “You say that like you were awake before I was.”

 

            “Not the point.  I was busy serving champagne to unruly musicians all night, in an effort to make my father’s life just that much easier.”

 

            “And I was busy being one of those unruly musicians.”

 

            “Touché.”  She finished her orange juice and put the glass in the sink.  “So, what’s on your agenda today?”

 

            “Well… let’s see.  Polish my guitar, buy some more hairspray, and fuck a couple of drunk sorority girls, most likely.  Does that fit your stereotype?”

 

            “Hey, now, play nice.  I was.”

 

            “Okay, okay.  Umm… I don’t know, actually.  Pretty much done at the studio for now.  Maybe I’ll invite a little friend over and we can paint each other’s toenails.”  Bret finished his coffee and put the mug in the sink next to Julie’s glass.

 

            “I promise I won’t tell your drunken sorority girls.  Anyway, I’m just going to go back upstairs to my room and read a book or something.  Think you can keep you and one of your buddies under control without my help?”

 

            “You really do have us pegged to be a bunch of out-of-control maniacs, don’t you?” 

 

            “Well… are you in any of the pictures of long-haired men getting champagne poured on their heads by blond women that my father has hanging in the study?”

 

            Bret looked at the floor.  “Yeah, probably,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed.  “Okay, fair enough.  We won’t pour bottles of champagne on anything.”

 

            “Good.  If you need me, guess which door I’m behind.”

 

§

 

            Julie managed to stay confined in her room for the entire day and part of the night reading and napping, until she couldn’t stand either anymore.  She ignored the part of her brain that was wondering what Bret was doing and snuck into the kitchen for some cold pizza.  As she stood at the counter eating, she realized that cold pizza was rather comforting.  When she’d lived with her mother in Pasadena, there was always cold pizza in the fridge.  Between her class schedule and her mother’s hours with the force, they never had time to cook.

 

            When she moved in with her father, the concert promoter, everything changed.  She went from a nice but not ritzy apartment with her mother and a cat to a sprawling house in Los Angeles.  The only thing that didn’t change was the abundance of cold pizza. 

 

            Julie finished her slice of pizza and headed toward the living room, deciding she might as well see what was going on.  Purely to make sure they hadn’t destroyed anything, of course. 

 

            Bret and some other guy were sitting on the floor, their backs against the leather sofa.  They’d moved the table out of the way and were sitting amidst two ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts and a couple of nearly empty vodka bottles.  “Transition to water not working for you?” Julie asked, to make her presence known.

 

            “Flavor’s not quite right,” Bret retorted.  At least he didn’t slur much.  “Julie, this is Sebastian.  He’s another unruly musician from a band you don’t listen to.”

 

            The other guy struggled to open his eyes, obviously more intoxicated than Bret.  He mumbled something that might have been a greeting and closed his eyes again.  Julie looked at Bret.  “Is he okay?”

 

            “Yeah, sure.  We stay alive on this stuff, as you know,” he said, waving a bottle of vodka at her.

 

            “Maybe he shouldn’t have any more tonight,” Julie suggested.

 

            Bret studied his friend.  “Yeah, probably not.”  He pulled himself to his feet.  “Neither one of us should, really.”

 

            “What the fuck are you on about, Michaels?” Sebastian slurred from the carpet.  “You fucking pussy!”

 

            Bret laughed uncomfortably.  “Listen, we’re okay down here, if you want to get back to your reading or whatever.”

 

            “Giver a shot!”

 

            Bret and Julie looked at Sebastian, then at each other.  Bret looked back down at Sebastian.  “Baz, I’m sure—“

 

            “No, I’ll have one.  Why not?”  Julie bent down and took the bottle from Bret, then took a large swig from it.  She barely winced.

 

            “Impressive,” Bret said.  “I didn’t think drinking was your thing.”

 

            “It isn’t.  That doesn’t mean I’m no good at it.”

 

            Baz mumbled something about girls and drinking that didn’t make any sense.  Julie took another sip out of the bottle.  “I think that’s enough for now,” she said and handed it back to Bret.  She sat down on the floor next to him and helped herself to a cigarette from his pack.  “So, is this really what you guys do when you’re not… doing whatever else you do?”

 

            Bret laughed.  “Well, since you put it that way, I guess the answer’s yes.  We do just sit on living room floors and drink sometimes.  We’re not always surrounded by women and paparazzi and shit, thank god.”

 

            “Thank god?  You sound like you don’t like what you do.”

 

            “Nah, I do.  I mean, it’s cool.  But you get sick of it sometimes.  There’s no privacy in this business, nothing you do goes undocumented.  Christ, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve actually been with a… yeah, well, you know.  It’s just hard sometimes.”  He took a long pull on his cigarette. 

 

            Julie decided it was best to not ask him to finish the thought he’d started.   She flicked some ashes into the ashtray, which had already overflowed onto the carpet.  “I think I’ll go empty these,” she said, picking it up and reaching over Sebastian for the other one. 

 

            “And she cleans, too,” Bret said, chuckling.  He took another swig from the bottle of Absolut. 

 

            Julie chose to ignore the comment and went into the kitchen to dump out the ashtrays.  It was unbelievable how many cigarettes they’d smoked in just the past few hours.  She grabbed a couple of bottles of water out of the fridge and turned to head back into the living room when she heard a loud crash and Bret saying, “Aww, Jesus fuck!”

 

            “Oh, that simply cannot be good,” Julie said to herself, realizing she was just the tiniest bit woozy from the alcohol.  It had been a good year since she’d chugged vodka out of the bottle.  Oh, well, she decided.  She was nowhere near drunk.  Not even quite tipsy.  Yet.

 

            Nothing could have quite prepared her for the scene that unfolded when she arrived back in the living room, although it actually wasn’t the first time she’d seen it happen in her house.  From what it looked like, Sebastian had taken an incredibly graceless fall directly through the table.  The bottle of vodka he’d been holding had shattered, mixing in with splintered wood.  Bret was standing over him, wavering a bit, still clutching his bottle and looking right and properly awed.  He turned to Julie.  “Um…”

 

            Julie dropped the water bottles on the carpet.  “I suppose ‘Um’ is really all there is to say.”  She paused.  “I should probably ease your mind a bit by telling you this is in no way something I haven’t seen before.  There’s probably a ‘drunk metalhead through furniture’ clause in my father’s insurance policy by now.”

 

            “Well… okay, but… hell.”  Bret was swaying a bit more now.

 

            “You okay there?” Julie asked, eyeing him.

 

            “Yeah.  Sure.”  He took a step towards the couch and nearly fell.  “Well, maybe that vodka’s catching up with me a little bit.”

           

            “Maybe you should lie down.”  She took a few steps toward him. 

 

            “I can’t do that.  I have to clean up Baz’s mess.”  Bret put his hand out to steady himself, but found nothing to rest it on.

 

            Julie closed the gap between where they were standing and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.  “Don’t worry about it.  He would be comfortable sleeping on rocks right now, and we aren’t very well going to glue the coffee table back together.”

 

            “Are you sure?  Maybe I should just sit down for a minute.”  He let Julie help him onto the couch.  He was unconscious before he hit the cushions.

 

            “Well.  Good thing he was on his way down already,” Julie said to no one in particular.  Just then, Sebastian made some kind of unintelligible gurgling noise from the wreckage of what used to be a perfectly nice table.  Unfortunately, Julie knew the noise well, and immediately went into action.

 

            “Come on, you.  Let’s go,” she said, her voice strained as she forced Sebastian to his feet.  He continued making noises that might have been attempts at speech while Julie half-walked, half-dragged him to the bathroom.  When they got to the doorway and she attempted to let him do the rest on his own, he just sort of stood there and wavered.  “Fuck.  I suppose you’re going to need help, then,” she said, even though she knew there was no way he had much of an idea of what was going on.

 

            She held his hair and did her best to neither listen to, look at, nor smell the penance he was paying for a night of heavy drinking.  After a while, Sebastian stopped retching and rested his head on the toilet seat, breathing heavily.  Julie flushed the toilet and supposed that this meant she had no plans for a while.  Moving him might prove to be a horrible mess, and she couldn’t very well leave him by himself in there to asphyxiate on his own vomit.  How would that go over?  Rock Star Dies In Promoter’s Bathroom – Daughter Ignores Distress.  She decided leaving him for just a minute wouldn’t hurt, and quickly ran back to the living room to steal Bret’s bottle of Absolut.  She couldn’t imagine that he’d be needing it just now.

 

            That was the thing about vodka.  Or any hard liquor, really, Julie thought as she periodically took sips from the bottle.  It tasted like ass.  If you’re going to drink it, you’ve only got one intent – to get pissed.  Bret was right; these things weren’t for flavor.  Eight, or was it nine, shots later, Sebastian came back into the world of the living.  Or undead, anyway.  “Um…” he began intelligently.

 

            Julie hiccupped in a very unladylike manner.  “That’s what Bret said, too.  You must be close.”

 

            Sebastian pulled himself unsteadily to his feet and rinsed his mouth out with water from the sink.  “Should I even ask what happened?” he said, sitting back down against the bathroom wall.

 

            “You wanna leave the bathroom first?” Julie suggested, realizing she was slurring.  Oops. 

 

            Sebastian patted his stomach.  “Better not, yet,” he replied.  “At least I made it in here.”

 

            “If you consider me dragging you in here like a scene from a bad movie, then yes, you made it.  I can’t say the same for the table.”  She took another swallow from the bottle, even though somewhere her dulled common sense insisted she shouldn’t.

 

            Sebastian winced.  “Broke another one, eh?”

 

            “Keeping a tally, are you?”

 

            “Lost count a few years ago, actually.  Sorry about the table.  I’ll pay for it.”

 

            “I doubt that will be necessary.  My father is pretty tolerant of these things.”  The slurring appeared to be getting worse.

 

            “Have a few too many sips, little one?”

 

            “Ten.  Twelve.”  She wagged the almost-empty bottle at him.  “Bret… Bret went to sleep and I just thought I’d… clean up for him.”  The sober Julie would have smacked her.

 

            Sebastian laughed.  “How polite of you.”  He paused and moved a little closer.  “I can see why Bret told me about you.  You’re a pretty girl.”

 

            “So I’m told,” Julie retorted, deciding not to try to question what he’d just said in her hazy state.  “You’re a pretty boy.”  The sober Julie would bitchsmack her.

 

            “So I’m told,” Sebastian said, softly.  The next thing Julie knew, she was tongue wrestling with a post-vomit, still-drunk rockstar.  The kiss was long, and she realized that although she wouldn’t have done this sober, it would probably still have been a quite pleasant experience, surprisingly enough.  She was just sober enough to pull away before things went any further.

 

            “Good girls don’t do that on the first date,” she admonished lightly.

 

            “So you’re a good girl?”

 

            “No.  I’m just drunk.”  She pulled herself unsteadily to her feet.  “And so are you.  I think you’re probably safe enough to go to sleep now, huh?”  She helped him up.

 

            Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her.  “Most girls wouldn’t have stopped there.”

 

            “Most girls know what band you’re in,” she replied.  “You can sleep wherever you want.  There’s a bunch of rooms upstairs, just don’t take the one with the open door and the light on.”

 

            Sebastian still looked a bit awed.  “Thanks,” he managed.  “And I’m really sorry about the—“

 

            “The table.  I know.  Are you going to be okay?”  She leaned against the doorframe to avoid a rush of dizziness.

 

            “Yeah, I’m fine.  You didn’t have to sit in here with me, you know.”

 

            “Of course not.  All of you bad boys live on hard liquor and drugs and that one bottle of Absolut and the fall through the table was nothing.  I know.  You can keep your pride and go to bed, I just didn’t want you to puke on the carpet.  Smells bad.”  Julie pushed herself back into a fully upright position and staggered out of the bathroom.

 

            On her way back into the living room to check on Bret, something she realized she was really in very little position to be doing, Julie finished off the last swallow of vodka in the bottle.  Probably not the wisest of ideas, but who leaves one swallow left in a bottle of vodka?  She dropped the empty container on the carpet and it landed with a dull thud.  The blurry drunken vision was starting to set in, and Julie tried to ignore it.  A sober person would start picking up the smaller pieces of the broken table, she reasoned.  Of course, a sober person would also tell a drunk person not to, but a drunk person wouldn’t know any better. She began picking up the smaller shards of wood, which worked wonderfully for approximately forty-five seconds before a wave of dizziness washed over her and she fell gracelessly to the floor, slicing her forearm quite satisfactorily on a piece of wood.  “Ow, FUCK!” she cried out, wincing and grabbing her arm. 

 

            Bret shot awake, and looked around, confused, for a minute.  Finally his eyes landed on her.  “Julie?  What happened?”

 

            Even from underneath a dozen or so shots of vodka, Julie felt like a total moron.  Best to tell these things like they are, though.  “Had a bit much t’drink,” she slurred.  “I seem to have cut myself.”  She displayed the bleeding gash in a manner that almost seemed proud.

 

            Bret rose to his feet and came over to crouch beside her.  He took her arm in his hand and studied it.  “I think you’ll live,” he said, pulling her to her feet.  “Come on, let’s go wash this out.”

           

            Julie allowed herself to be led into the kitchen.  Even under the alcohol haze, she was aware that this was really quite embarrassing, and would be even more embarrassing the next day, and probably compounded by a hangover.  Bret ran cold water and soaked a towel, which he pressed against the gash on Julie’s arm.

 

            “Why are you doing this?” Julie asked drunkenly.

 

            “Because you’re bleeding,” he answered.  “When you have a cut, you’re supposed to wash it out.  Or something.”

 

            “No, I mean, why are you helping me?”

 

            Bret shifted uncomfortably.  “I don’t know.  Just seemed like the thing to do.  Here, hold this on there.”  Julie pressed the towel against the cut.  It would hurt more if she was sober, but it wouldn’t have happened if she were.  Everything was a catch-22.  “What happened to Baz?”

 

            Julie immediately flashed back to the alcoholic kiss and tried not to blush.  “Held his hair for him and sent him to bed.”

 

            “You held Baz’s hair?”

 

            “Yeah… so?”

 

            “I don’t think anyone has ever held Baz’s hair while he puked, that’s all,” Bret said, smiling a little.

 

            “Well, it just seemed like the thing to do,” Julie retorted.  “Anyway, if I didn’t carry him to the bathroom, that mess in the living room would have been considerably less fun to clean up.”

 

            Bret laughed.  “I’m really sorry I missed this.”

           

            “If you had been around for it, I wouldn’t have been the one carrying him to the bathroom,” Julie pointed out.  The room was definitely starting to spin.

 

            “Yeah.  Shit, sorry about that, Julie.” 

 

            “Believe me, he’s not the first one of you guys I’ve had to save the carpet from.  Huh.  The room is moving rather quickly,” Julie noted.  She felt herself begin slipping and felt Bret’s arm around her waist.

 

            “Think you can walk with my help?” he asked.

 

            “Oh, sure,” she said, and that was the last thing she remembered.

 

§

 

            The pounding headache brought Julie into consciousness before she was mentally ready for it.  She was lying on her stomach with her head under a pillow, and for a few long moments she stayed that way, slowly piecing together the events of last night.  She realized two things eventually; that she had made a complete fool of herself, and that this was not her bed.  She opened one eye and saw black sheets, which confirmed the suspicion that she was indeed facedown on her father’s bed.  Oh, dear.

 

            Painfully, Julie pulled herself into an upright position, and realized that not only was she in her father’s bed, but she was in her father’s bed with someone else.  Bret, to be precise.  Oh, Christ.  As if he knew he was being stared at, his eyes fluttered a few times before opening and settling on Julie.  Well, so much for making a sneaky escape.  “Morning, sunshine,” he said groggily.

 

            “Mmm… did we…?”

 

            “Oh, you bet,” Bret said, smiling and sitting up.  “Six or seven times.  You are wild when you’re drunk.”

 

            “Oh, Christ,” Julie said, closing her eyes.

 

            “Relax.  I’m kidding.  Nothing happened.  I didn’t know what room was yours, and I didn’t know how okay you were, so I just brought you in here with me.”  Seeing that she looked unconvinced, he added, “Look, you’re still wearing your clothes.  You think I’d bother dressing you again if we’d really…” He trailed off.

 

            Julie felt only minimally relieved.  Actually, she felt quite relieved, but her hangover was a nagging reminder of last night’s events, which, with or without boning a total stranger who just happened to be famous, was humiliating enough.  At least she remembered most of it, she thought.  “Well, that’s a relief,” she said finally.  “Well, I mean… you know.”

 

            “Yeah.  How you feeling?”

 

            Julie looked at him.  His hair was a mess, his eyes were red, and he was barely managing to keep himself propped up on one arm.  “About as good as you look,” she responded.  “I don’t normally get hangovers.”

 

            “You do if you drink with us,” Bret corrected.  “Although, I guess you didn’t really drink with us.”

 

            “Nope.  That half of a bottle of Absolut I consumed was just who I was hanging out with while you two slept like babies in uncomfortable positions.  I think Baz was talking to me for about two shots.”

 

            “Oh, yeah?  Anything interesting?”

 

            Julie bit the inside of her mouth.  “Ah… not really.  I asked if he wanted to leave the bathroom but he thought better of it since he still felt sick.  Then I told him he could keep his pride, and the secret that a girl had carried him to the bathroom would be taken with me to my grave.”  She smiled a little.  “I think at some point he tried to apologize for the table.”

 

            “Yeah… about that, Julie, I—“

 

            “Yeah, I know.  You’re sorry, and you’ll pay for it, neither of which will be necessary.  You’d be amazed how many tables that room has seen.  It’s really not a big deal.”  Julie’s headache was getting worse and she met Bret’s gaze.  “Advil?” she offered.

 

            “Yeah.  About ten of them,” Bret agreed.  “I’ll go with you.”

 

            Julie agonizingly pulled herself into a standing position, followed by Bret.  She had to force herself to turn away from the image of him wearing nothing but a pair of cut-up jeans.  She couldn’t possibly find him attractive, she decided, and led the way out of the room.

 

§

 

            A long, hot shower proved to be immensely helpful in relieving the better part of Julie’s hangover.  After she and Bret had raided the house for over-the-counter painkillers, she realized that she couldn’t get away from him quickly enough, at least for a little while.  She knew that whatever she’d said or done last night couldn’t have held a candle to some of the things those guys had seen, but it wasn’t like her to get drunk and act like an imbecile.  Besides, she must have looked a sight, hungover and still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

 

            After getting out of the shower, Julie dressed slowly in front of her full-length mirror.  A version of herself that wasn’t quite so dulled from a night of drinking might have pointed out that she took more care than usual in making her choice of what to wear; a rather small crimson tank top and a pair of black jeans that were probably the most form-fitting pants she owned.  That version of herself would definitely point out that she almost never wore makeup at home, and absolutely never wore perfume.  However, the Julie that performed these tasks was dulled by her recent run-in with a bottle of vodka, and managed to convince her that she was merely trying to make herself feel better by making herself look better.  The throbbing in her head had faded to a dull ache, and the raspy dryness of her throat was now something that a few glasses of water would likely fix.  The only thing seriously wounded was her pride, and now that she was clean and felt less like shooting herself in the skull, even that was only slightly bruised.  She just wasn’t exactly sure what to do next.

 

            After brushing her hair and deciding to just leave it down, Julie realized she couldn’t very well stay in her bedroom all day without making herself look even more ridiculous.  She glanced at the clock, and saw that it was already nearly 4:00 in the afternoon.  She didn’t even want to think about how long she’d slept in her clothes, facedown on her father’s bed, with Bret.  And what of Bret?  She supposed she should at least see what he was up to.  He’d gone to take a shower at the same time she had, and she guessed he would probably already be roaming around the house by now since she’d purposely taken as long as she could putting herself back together. 

 

            Just as she was about to leave her room, the realization dawned on Julie that for whatever reason, she was genuinely interested in making her father’s guest feel welcome.  It mattered to her in some small, weird way that Bret be shown hospitality and that he be, in a sense, taken care of.  This epiphany caught her completely off-guard.  Since when did the lives of any of these people even remotely interest her?  She pushed the thought out of her mind and headed downstairs.

 

            Bret was standing in the living room, surveying the damage from the previous night’s festivities.  The room still smelled slighty of vodka, and there was splintered wood and broken glass strewn about.  He addressed Julie without turning.  “You know, I’m not going to apologize again, but… damn.”

 

            “I suppose for three people, two of which were unconscious for most of the evening, it ranks pretty high on the destruction scale,” Julie agreed.  “Feeling better?”

 

            Bret turned.  Although she tried to ignore it, Julie couldn’t help but notice the way he was looking at her.  His eyes traced her entire body from the top to the bottom and back again like he was looking at something he’d never quite seen before.  He cleared his throat.  “Much,” he said after a minute.  “You?”

 

            Julie tried to keep herself from looking at him in the same way.  He was still only wearing a pair of ragged jeans, shirtless, his long blond hair spilling around his face.  For the second time, she took note of those deep blue eyes of his.  “Yeah,” she responded, pushing these utterly foreign thoughts to the back of her mind.  “It’s amazing what some Advil and a shower can do for a hangover.  Did I mention that I never get hangovers?”

 

            “Do you often drink half a bottle of Absolut in a short period of time and then slice your arm open on a broken table?” Bret countered.  Without waiting for a response, he continued.  “How is your arm, by the way?”  He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

 

            Julie rubbed at her arm unconsciously.  “It’s fine.  I mean, it hurts a little, but I suppose that’s to be expected.”

 

            Bret crossed the room in quick strides and took Julie’s arm in his hand to examine the wound.  He ran his finger along the length of it and Julie shivered.  “I think you’ll be okay,” he said, his voice a bit softer than usual. 

 

            A long, pregnant moment passed between them.  Julie compared the way they were looking at each other to one of those overly dramatic pre-kiss scenes in a movie, and the reality of the situation might very well have been that.  Nervous, she pulled her arm away.  “Where’s… Sebastian?” she asked to break the silence, not quite being able to recall what Bret had been calling him all night.

 

            Bret looked at the floor and then quickly back up again.  “Baz?”  Ah, so that was it.  Baz.  “I guess he took off.  I haven’t seen him.”  He was quiet for a minute.  “Speaking of taking off, I probably should myself.”

 

            Julie snapped out of the daze the last few minutes had put her in.  “What?  I mean, I thought you were staying here for a while.”

 

            “I am.  I just have some shit to do today.  You know.”  He seemed genuinely uncomfortable.

 

            Julie reminded herself that whatever Bret had to do today was not only none of her business, but that she wasn’t supposed to care, either.  “Yeah, sure,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.  “Will you be back tonight, or should I just lock the place up?”

 

            “Oh, no, I’ll be back,” Bret assured her quickly.  “I’ll only be gone a few hours.”

 

            “Okay,” Julie responded.  “You have the number here, in case…” In case what, dipshit? she asked herself.

 

            Bret smiled.  “Yeah, sure.  I’ve got the number.”  He turned and started walking toward the door.

 

            “Have fun,” Julie told him. Are you going to pack his lunch, too? a voice in her head scoffed.

 

            He turned around.  “You, too,” and with a wink, he left.

 

§

 

            Julie decided after some deliberation that it wasn’t her responsibility to clean up the remnants of the table.  If that was the only thing that went wrong in her father’s absence, he should consider himself pretty lucky.  She could remember picture windows being shattered, hot tub jets being destroyed, and the swimming pool having to be totally drained on several occasions.  One broken table, more or less, didn’t really make that much of a difference.  She did, however, clean up as much of the broken glass as was possible, figuring that glass was more likely to do bodily harm than wood – even though the cut on her arm countered that point.

 

            Once that chore was done, Julie found herself with nothing to do.  She stood in the living room, zoning out over the wreckage of the table.  She considered inviting Sam over, but decided against it.  She didn’t even want to imagine what Sam would do if Bret came back while she was there; Sam almost definitely knew exactly what band he was from, and would at the very least make a total ass out of herself and Julie if she were to meet him.  For a moment, she found herself wishing Bret would come back soon, but silently scolded herself for it.  She couldn’t possibly actually want some strange guy taking up space in her house. 

 

            “Where’s Bret?” came a voice from behind her.

 

            Julie nearly jumped out of her skin, and whirled around to see who was speaking to her.  “Sebastian?  I thought you left!”  She realized her voice was high-pitched and sounded scared and forced herself to calm down a bit.  “I mean, Bret said you’d left.”

 

            Sebastian looked disheveled, and it was obvious he’d just crawled out of bed.  “I don’t know why he said that,” he replied, yawning.  “I’ve been asleep since… when did I fall asleep?”

 

            Julie calmed down some more, although the idea of being alone with yet another one of her father’s clients made her a little nervous.  “Well, let’s see… you slept in the bathroom for about an hour, and then dragged yourself upstairs around 3 in the morning.”  She hoped he didn’t remember the night.

 

            Her prayers were answered.  “Huh,” he said.  “I don’t really remember much.”  He eyeballed the table.  “I assume I had something to do with that, though,” he said, pointing.

 

            “I’d expect your back to hurt,” Julie responded.

 

            Sebastian was quiet for a minute.  “I think I remember you telling me not to worry about paying for the table…”

 

            Julie nodded.  “Yes.  You and Bret have both apologized quite enough about the table.  In fact, I never want to talk about what used to be that table ever again.”

 

            Sebastian smiled a little.  “Fair enough.  I’d just as soon forget about it myself.  Do you have any Tylenol?”

 

            “There’s Advil on the kitchen table.  You aren’t the only one who woke up with a hangover.”  She led the way into the kitchen.  “There are bottles of water in the fridge.”

 

            Sebastian helped himself to a bottle of water and a handful of Advil. “Where’s Bret?” he asked a second time.

 

            “You know, I told him to leave a phone number in case I needed him to pick up some milk, but you rock stars are really quite inconsiderate.”  Sebastian grinned and Julie continued.  “I have no idea where he went, actually, but he said he’d be back later tonight.”

 

            “Well, unless something else that I don’t remember happened last night,” Sebastian began and Julie shivered, “he’s got my car keys and my wallet.”

 

            Oh, spectacular, Julie thought.  “He didn’t mention anything to me, but I haven’t seen anything laying around.”

 

            “Fabulous.  Well, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience…”

 

            “It’s fine.  The more, the merrier, right?”  Julie barely managed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.  “I assume you won’t be wanting breakfast.”

 

            Sebastian put a hand on his stomach.  “No, definitely not.”

 

            “Guess you don’t mind that I finished the Absolut, either,” Julie said, smiling a little.

 

            Sebastian smiled back.  “By midnight, I’ll be ready for more, but no, right now, I really have no problem with that.”  He paused.  “Wait… you were getting drunk in the bathroom last night, weren’t you?”

 

            Julie bit the inside of her cheek.  “Yeah… probably not my most intelligent move,” she replied, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.

 

            “I think I remember that.”  He was quiet for a moment longer and then said, “Yeah, I think I remember that pretty well, actually.”  He winked.

 

            Julie’s face flushed hot red and she looked away.  “Listen,” she said, unsure of what exactly to say.  “I’m not… I mean, I don’t—“

 

            “Good girls don’t do that on the first date,” Sebastian interrupted.

 

            Fabulous.  He remembered everything now.  Julie floundered for a response and came up blank.  “I don’t really have a response to that,” she said finally, feeling childish.

 

            “Good,” Sebastian replied immediately.  “I didn’t really have a response when you wouldn’t let me do anything besides kiss you last night, either.”

 

            Julie rarely had a problem coming up with a biting retort, and even more rarely felt totally out of control in a conversation, but this was definitely one of those rare occasions.  Sebastian made her nervous and his brazen attitude made her ears perk up in a way she didn’t quite recognize.  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said feebly.

 

            “Kissed you?  Why not?”  Julie knew she didn’t have a response for that, either, and so did Sebastian.  He took a step toward her and she took a step back.  “You’re afraid of me.”

 

            “No, I’m not.”  And she wasn’t – not of him, but of how she was responding to him. 

 

            “I make you nervous.”  He took another step closer and this time Julie didn’t back away. 

 

            She wanted to say something witty, or at the very least something defensive, but what came out was a barely audible, “Yes.”  By this point, Sebastian was only inches away from her.  He smelled like smoke and boy.  Julie could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest and wondered if he could, too.  The thought that wild dogs could smell fear popped, unbidden, into her head. 

 

            Sebastian’s intentions were obvious.  He ran his hand along her upper arm, brought his head down so that their foreheads grazed one another.  His movements were graceful – almost catlike, Julie thought, and it surprised her.  After years of watching these people in action at her father’s parties, she had figured there wasn’t a graceful bone in a single one of their bodies.  She snapped out of her mental tangent and back into the reality at hand.  She knew that the thing to do would be to pull away immediately, say something firm and, if necessary, unkind, and retreat to her room as quickly as possible.  The afterthought, and wait for Bret to come back, sprang into her mind and she ignored it.  She didn’t feel threatened by the situation in the sense that she thought Sebastian would use anything other than mental force to convince her to go along with what he was obviously trying to do, and yet something inside of her wouldn’t let her pull back.  She found herself completely terrified, and yet some small part of her was enjoying the scene that was unfolding, no matter how she tried to ignore it.

 

            Their foreheads met and for a moment, Sebastian closed his eyes and they both stood totally still and silent.  Julie found herself reaching a hand up to touch his hair, as though she was being controlled by some outside force.  His long, golden hair was softer than she’d expected it to be, and she felt as though she was reaching out to pet a beautiful, exotic animal.  Underneath the lingering smell of stale cigarette smoke, Sebastian’s hair smelled like shampoo and another, more intoxicating scent, that Julie couldn’t quite identify.  There was an almost tangible magnetism between them now, an electricity that she tried with all of her power to fight.  Her mind was racing, trying to find an escape or at the very least an explanation, but to no avail.  She realized she’d wrapped his hair around her hand and was holding it tightly.  “I thought good girls didn’t do this,” Sebastian said, his voice low and raspy.

 

            Julie shuddered.  “We don’t,” she said softly.  Their faces met, and the kiss was more calculated, less desperate than the drunken one they’d shared the night before.  She noticed that his mouth tasted strangely sweet as their tongues intertwined.  His grip on her upper arm tightened and Julie felt herself slipping, falling rapidly into something that could only end badly.

 

            Sebastian’s other hand slowly crept to her waist, sneaking its way up under her tank top and gently squeezing her skin.  She matched his move, blindly following his lead for lack of the ability to think of anything else to do.  As their kissing continued, Julie dug her nails slightly into the flesh of Sebastian’s back, and was rewarded with a muffled growl.  Again, she thought of cats, and her head spun at the sound.  Sebastian began to ease her shirt up slowly.

 

            There was a banging noise somewhere in the distance and Julie started.  When she realized it was the front door slamming shut, it broke her out of her trance and she pulled back from Sebastian.  He released his grip on her and made a low throaty noise, frustration, almost despair, his eyes closed.  Both of their faces were flushed, and Julie scrambled to put herself back together.  Sebastian ran a hand through his mane of hair and took a step backwards.

 

            Bret came into the kitchen then.  He paused, just for a minute, and appeared to assess the scene before him.  Sebastian was now reaching for his bottle of water, drinking deeply from it.  Julie stepped around him hurriedly.  “Hey,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

 

            Bret frowned just for a second before his features settled back into a blank expression.  “Hey,” he responded.  “Didn’t know you were still here, Baz.”

 

            “Well, you do have my car keys,” Baz said.  Julie was relieved that he sounded completely natural, and then realized that he had no reason not to.  None of what had just happened was new to him.

 

            “They’re on the…” Bret paused and smiled a little.  “Well, I guess they’re somewhere in the table.”

 

            Baz laughed.  “I guess I should have thought to look there.”

 

            “Actually, I probably should have,” Julie interjected.  “Shall I order dinner in tonight, gentlemen?”  She was glad to find that her normal self was returning.

 

            Bret started to nod, but Sebastian cut him off.  “You two go ahead,” he said.  “Now that I have my keys back, I think I’m gonna split.”

 

            Julie wondered if she should ask him to stay, not sure if that would look more or less natural than just keeping quiet.  Bret spoke before she made her choice.  “You sure, dude?  You’re perfectly… well, I mean, if it’s okay with Julie…”

 

            Julie cleared her throat.  “Oh.  Sure, yeah, it’s fine.”

 

            Sebastian shook his head.  “Thanks, but I think I’d like to get out of last night’s clothes and all that shit.”  He fixed his gaze on Julie, a look that to the unsuspecting eye seemed totally harmless.  “Maybe I’ll come back around later.”  He looked back to Bret.  “If that’s okay.”

 

            Bret and Julie said, “Sure,” simultaneously.  Julie thought about saying she’d show him out, but decided it might be weird.  “The door will be open until we go to bed.”  Oh, that hadn’t come out right.  “I mean, whichever one of us goes to bed last will…” She stopped talking. 

 

            Sebastian chuckled.  “See ya,” he said, and walked out.

 

§

 

            Two hours later found Julie and Bret sitting side by side in her father’s bed, eating take-out Chinese food and idly watching a TV movie.  They had smoked a few bowls out of her father’s stash, and were quite pleasantly high.  It was a weird situation, to be sure, the two of them acting like old girlfriends, but at least it put the notion out of Julie’s mind that Bret might have thought anything was up when he’d gotten back to the house.  She wasn’t exactly sure why it mattered to her so much if he had found out, and decided it was probably because she didn’t even want to acknowledge it herself, much less have anyone else know about it.  Besides, the last thing she needed was the two of them laughing it up with all of their little buddies, talking about how Sebastian was about to score with Jack Kinsington’s daughter.  And anyway, it was kind of nice to have someone to hang out with who didn’t constantly gush about how cool it was that there were always rock stars in the house, even if the ‘someone’ it turned out to be was a little ironic.

 

            “So, what did you and Baz do while I was gone?” Bret asked suddenly, over a forkful of lo mein.

 

            Julie nearly choked, but managed to maintain a normal appearance.  “We didn’t really do anything,” she lied.  “He came downstairs and scared the shit out of me because I thought he’d left, then we very briefly discussed the state of affairs in the living room and I gave him some Advil.”

 

            “Ah,” Bret said.  “You two just looked like you’d been talking about something when I got back.” 

 

            “Not really,” she said.  “We did talk a little bit about the fact that he couldn’t leave without his keys, but I guess it turned out they were here all along.”

 

            Bret nodded.  “Was he ridiculously hungover?”

 

            Julie shrugged.  “I don’t really have a basis of comparison, but I think we actually looked worse when we got up then he did.  Of course, he slept a few hours longer than we did.”

 

            “Baz is a bit of a machine when it comes to this stuff.”

 

            “I’d be more inclined to believe that had I not had to carry him to the bathroom last night, but whatever you say, boss.”

 

            “Boss?” Bret laughed.

 

            “Maybe you’d prefer something more like captain?” Julie said, grinning.

 

            “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘master’, actually,” Bret retorted.  He reached over and tousled her hair.

 

            Julie poked him lightly in the arm with her fork.  “Hardly!”

 

            “Ow!” Bret said, laughing, obviously not actually hurt.  “You know you aren’t going to get away with that, right?”

 

            Julie laughed at him.  “Oh, no?  What are you going to do?”

 

            In one fluid motion, Bret had her pinned to the bed by her shoulders.  Julie made a surprised noise, still laughing, and tried to wriggle free, but his grip was strong.  “Let me go!” she said, squirming around.  She realized somewhere in the back of her head that the pot had affected her more than she’d thought, probably because she hadn’t smoked pot in ages.  “Come on, Bret, let me GO!”

 

            Bret was laughing like a fool and pushed her down harder.  “Not until you call me master!”

 

            Julie continued struggling and said, “You’re lucky I’m high!  That’s the only reason I can’t get away.”  It was probably bullshit. 

 

            “Oh, I’m sure, little girl,” Bret said sarcastically.  She tried to kick her way out from underneath him, but he just climbed on top of her and sat on her legs, removing any chance of escape Julie might have had.  She squirmed around furiously but to no avail.  If it wasn’t for the pot, she’d have felt like a total moron.  Finally, she gave up trying to get away and just lay still, breathing heavily from the effort.

 

            “Well,” Bret said, “now that I’ve got you like this, what am I going to do with you?”

 

            Julie looked up at him, breathless.  His platinum blond hair hung down, nearly touching her face, and yet again she was looking into his blue eyes.  She realized she might very well have landed herself in a similar situation to the one she’d been in a few hours earlier.  This time she felt a bit less nervous; whether that was because the situation hadn’t escalated yet, or because she had already dealt with certain circumstances once tonight.  She refused to believe that it might be due to the fact that it was Bret instead of Sebastian.  She wondered if what Bret had said had been rhetorical or if he wanted her to answer.  Not that it mattered – she didn’t have any idea what to say in response.  She realized they were still staring at each other.

 

            As it turned out, this time Julie didn’t have much time to frantically wrack her brain for something to say.  Bret leaned down closer to her and as he did, Julie closed her eyes.  She wasn’t sure if she was doing it because she wanted to get away, or if because she wanted to succumb to whatever was about to happen.  She felt Bret’s lips on her chest, just above the top of her shirt, and it gave her goosebumps.  This time she didn’t try to rationalize to herself what was happening.

 

            Bret’s kisses were moving steadily lower, from the center of her chest, to the middle of her stomach, to just above her navel.  He had loosened his grip on her, and Julie reached her hand up to touch someone’s hair for the second time that night.  Bret’s hair was different than Sebastian’s, thicker, but just as soft, and he smelled earthy, like an oil she didn’t recognize.  She felt his tongue graze her stomach and something inside of her broke, and she resolved to yield to the scene that was playing out and let herself be controlled by something other than her unrestful mind.  Bret’s hands were undoing the button on her jeans and Julie sucked in her breath, eyes still closed, just waiting.  An excited, almost sickening tension started in her chest and spread throughout her entire body.  Some part of her found it strangely arousing that they hadn’t kissed.

 

            “Bret!”

 

            Julie’s eyes snapped open and Bret flew upright at the sound of Sebastian’s voice from the stairs.  Bret muttered something that might have been “fuck” and climbed off of her, grabbing a container of fried rice and taking a bite. 

 

            Julie just lay there for a second, trying to calm herself down, before re-buttoning her jeans and sitting up next to Bret.  She was turning up the volume on the TV when Sebastian walked in.

 

            He raised an eyebrow.  “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

 

            Julie said a silent prayer that Bret wouldn’t say something inappropriate, then quickly realized she actually didn’t want him to say something appropriate to the situation. 

 

            “Of course you are, asshole,” Bret answered.  Julie closed her eyes and braced herself.  “Can’t you see we’re watching… Julie, what the fuck is this?”

 

            Julie exhaled and forced herself to smile.  “If you want the title, you’re shit out of luck, but it appears these two have escaped from a mental hospital and they seem to have a gun,” she offered.

 

            Sebastian fully entered the room and took a seat at the edge of the bed.  “And to think I missed the beginning.”  He lit a cigarette and focused his attention on Bret.  “Let’s head over to Ataxia.”

 

            Julie interrupted.  “There’s a place called Ataxia?”

 

            Bret laughed.  “Yeah, it’s a club,” he explained.  “A lot of us hang out there.”

 

            “Is this one of those A-list kind of establishments?”

 

            “Do we look like we’d be allowed in A-list establishments?” Sebastian asked, laughing.

 

            “I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘A-list’,” Bret agreed, “but you do have to be on the guest list if you want to get in.”  He looked at Sebastian.  “Anyway, I don’t know, Baz, we were kind of—“

 

            Julie cut him off.  “We were watching bad TV and eating take-out, Bret.  You guys go ahead.”

 

            Sebastian’s brown eyes turned to Julie and he gave her a secret wink.  “Why don’t you come with us?”

 

            “I thought it was guest-list only,” Julie offered feebly.

 

            “Being in this business does have some perks,” Bret responded quickly.  “I’m sure if we ask real nice they’ll let us bring a friend.”

 

            “I don’t know.  Clubs really aren’t my thing.”

 

            Sebastian flicked the side of one of the containers of food.  “And take-out in Ted Kinsington’s bedroom isn’t really Bret’s thing.”  He paused.  “Well, maybe it could be, but that’s not the point.  It’ll be fun, come on.”

 

            “You don’t want to be cooped up by yourself all night,” Bret put in.

 

            “Actually, I like being ‘cooped up by myself all night’,” Julie said.  She knew they weren’t going to give in.  “Okay, fine, I’ll go, but if I hate it you have to bring me home, okay?”

 

            Bret and Sebastian exchanged a glance and said, “Fine,” at the same time.

 

§

 

            Ataxia turned out to be aptly named, Julie thought after they’d been there for a while.  The whole place was filled with people doing something that they apparently considered dancing.  She hoped they were all high as kites, because the idea of a sober person behaving in such a manner was unsettling at best.  She watched the people idly from a stool at the bar, where Bret and Sebastian had left her for the time being while they wandered off in two different directions to do whatever it is rock stars did at clubs.  Before they’d walked away, Bret told the guy behind the bar to put anything Julie wanted on his tab, which made Julie giggle.  “Hey, I’ve only heard that on TV!” she explained when he favored her with a questioning look.

 

            As she sat and waited for the guys to return, Julie debated whether or not she was going to tell Sam about any of this.  Probably not, she decided.  This would have to be one of those stories that never got further than her diary.  She sipped on a strawberry daiquiri that was stronger than she remembered them ever being, following a similar pina colada and an electric lemonade, and did her best to go unnoticed until she spotted Bret coming towards her through the throng of people.

 

            He leaned over Julie and ordered a Jack and coke, then sat next to her.  This section of the club was just far enough away from the dancefloor to allow them to converse at tones only slightly louder than normal.  “Having fun?” Bret asked.

 

            “Well, I don’t dance,” Julie responded, “but the drinks are strong.”

 

            Bret smiled.  “I should have warned you that even the girly drinks are powerful here.”

 

            “It’s okay, I’m not drunk.”  She paused.  “If I have another one, I’ll be drunk, so please don’t let me have another one.”

 

            “Fair enough.  Wouldn’t want to have to carry you out of here.”  Julie debated on a witty retort and kept quiet.  After all, he had actually had to carry her drunk self two nights ago.  “Listen,” he continued, “I’ll be right back.  Drinks are catching up to me.”  He slunk off back into the crowd.

 

            “Hey, babe.”  Julie looked up at the person who’d spoken, a stocky guy with short-cropped black hair.  He put his hand on her arm.  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this all by herself?”

 

            Julie blinked.  “Um… actually, I’m here with some friends,” she said weakly.  As soon as she said it, she realized it sounded like bullshit.

 

            Apparently, the guy talking to her thought so, too.  “A nice girl like you shouldn’t be here all alone.”  He smelled like beer and lecherous pervert.  “Something could happen to you.” 

 

            Julie doubted this guy would even know what irony meant, much less be able to see it in what he’d just said.  “I’m fine, really,” she told him and tried to pull her arm away, but he held her tightly. 

 

            “Why don’t we go somewhere a little quieter and get to know each other?”  He tried to pull her to her feet, but she held onto the edge of the bar with her free hand.

 

            “Look, I told you, I’m here with some friends,” Julie said again, a little more firmly.

 

            “I’m sure your little girlfriends can find their way home without you, sugar.”  He tugged on her again.

 

            “You know what, I don’t think they can,” came Bret’s voice.  Julie looked up at him with a pleading expression.

 

            The guy let go of Julie’s arm and focused his attention on Bret.  “I’m talking to the lady here,” he said, an edge to his voice.

 

            “I don’t think you are anymore,” Bret countered, his voice tight and angry.

 

            “Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?”

 

            “I’m the lady’s date,” Bret said.  “And she obviously doesn’t want to talk to you, so I suggest you leave.”

 

            A smile played around the man’s lips.  “You’re not her date, she’s here with some friends.  So why don’t you fuck off?”

 

            “I am one of those friends,” Bret said evenly.

 

            “Oh, so she’s one of those girls, is she?”

 

            Julie noticed that Bret’s right hand was curled into a fist so tightly that his knuckles were white.  “What kind of girls would ‘those’ be?” he asked through his teeth.

 

            “The loose little whores who hang out with you band freaks,” the guy answered, laughing.  “All the more reason she shouldn’t have a problem spending the night with me.”

 

            “Did you just call her a whore?”  Before the man had a chance to answer, Bret punched him square in the face and the guy stumbled backwards.  “That was not your smartest move, buddy.”  Bret motioned for one of the bouncers to come over.  “Get this asshole out of here.”

 

            “Sure thing, Mr. Michaels,” the bouncer said, and dragged the guy off, ignoring his protests.

 

             Bret sat down next to Julie, still angry, and rubbed at his knuckles for a second, then ordered another drink.  He took a long swallow and then said, “Fucking prick,” not looking at her.

 

            “That was pretty impressive,” Julie said.  “Thanks.  You didn’t have to do that.”

 

            “Yes, I did.  He can’t talk to you like that.”  There was something in his voice that Julie couldn’t quite put her finger on.

 

            “Isn’t that kind of thing going to get you bad publicity?”  Bret looked at her questioningly.  “I mean, you know… ‘Band Frontman In Bar Brawl’ or some such nonsense?”

 

            Bret seemed to relax a little.  “In this place?  Hardly.  I’d have to fuck him in the ass and then shoot him in the face in order for the press to care.”  He paused.  “I think that might have come out wrong.”

 

            Julie giggled, feeling a little silly from the alcohol.  “Well, anyway, thank you.  That was pretty cool.  I’ve never been saved from a bar sleaze before.”

 

            Bret shrugged off her thanks.  “He was a dick.”  He finished his drink.  “You want to get out of here?”

 

            Julie shrugged.  “Sure, whatever.  Where’s Sebastian, though?”

 

            “Good question.  However, Sebastian is a big boy and can probably manage by himself.  Anyway, I’m sure it’s your house he’ll turn up at around 5 in the morning, drunk.  Sorry about that.”

 

            “I’m kind of getting used to it,” Julie replied.  “You sure it’s cool for us to just skip out on him?”  Julie, she said to herself, why do you care?

 

            “We probably couldn’t find him if we wanted to.”  Bret looked down into his empty glass.  “Besides, I wouldn’t mind continuing what we started earlier.”

 

            Fuck.  Julie had rather hoped that Bret wouldn’t mention that.  She had managed to convinced herself that pot just did strange things to her, but now she realized it made her stomach flip over, just slightly, to hear him say that.  She tried to think of what to say, and opted for humor.  “Why, Bret, are you trying to pick me up?”

 

            He laughed.  “If that’s what you want to call it,” he said, “but without me, I’d hate to see who you got to give you a ride back to your house.”

 

            “You have a point,” Julie conceded.  “I suppose since I’m one of those loose little whores who hang around with band freaks, I have to give you the obligatory wild night in return for your chivalry.”

 

            “Hey, that isn’t what I meant!”

 

            “I know, I’m just kidding.  Take me home,” Julie said.  “We’ll see what happens once we’re there.”  She found herself winking and immediately wished the human body was capable of kicking itself in the brain. 

 

            The pair made their way through the crowd to an exit in the back of the club which led into an alley.  As soon as they got outside and saw the scene unfolding before them, they both stopped in their tracks.  “Oh, shit,” Julie breathed.

 

            Sebastian was sitting on the ground in the alley, hands cuffed behind his back, with a police officer standing next to him scribbling something in a little notebook.  Bret approached the cop.  “What’s the problem here, officer?”

 

            The cop gave Bret a critical once-over.  “You know this young man?” he asked.

 

            Bret nodded.  “Yes, he’s a friend of mine.”  Sebastian leaned over and vomited on the ground.  Julie winced.

 

            “Well, sir, your friend here seems to be under the influence of narcotics,” the cop explained.  “In case you couldn’t tell.”

 

            Bret sighed.  “Is he under arrest?”

 

            The cop folded his arms acrossed his chest.  “Well, sir, being under the influence of narcotics is a crime in the state of California, so yes, he is.  I’d expect you to be pretty familiar with these laws.”

 

            It looked as though Bret was about to make the unwise decision of saying something snappy, and Julie stepped forward.  “Sir, how can we get him out of jail?”

 

            The cop raised an eyebrow at her.  “Who are you?”

 

            Julie blinked.  “I’m his sister,” she said.  She felt Bret’s surprise even though neither she nor the policeman were looking at him. 

 

            “What’s your name, miss?”

 

            “Julie Kinsington,” she answered, at the same time that she realized she probably should have lied about that.

 

            “This young man’s name is Sebastian Bach.  Do you two have different fathers, or what?”  The cop was sarcastic.

 

            Bret interjected.  “Sebastian Bach is a stage name.  His last name is Kinsington, just like hers.”

 

            “We’re really worried about him, sir,” Julie said pleadingly.

 

            The cop sighed and relaxed a little.  “You two got some ID on you?”  Julie and Bret took out their IDs and he looked them over.  “All right, listen,” he said after a minute.  “Miss, I’m going to let you take your brother home this time, but if I catch him out here again, he’s going to jail, understand?  He’s lucky he didn’t have anything on him.” 

 

            Julie nodded.  “Thank you, sir.”

 

            The cop pulled Sebastian roughly to his feet.  He tried to look over at Bret and Julie, but he was acting as though his head was too heavy for his neck to support.  Once the handcuffs were off, the cop handed Julie and Bret back their IDs and gave them another warning before leaving. 

 

            Sebastian started to mumble something unintelligible and took a step towards them, but his knees began to buckle.  Bret grabbed him under one arm.  “Let’s get him the fuck out of here.”

 

§

 

            It took them nearly fifteen minutes to get Sebastian to the car, and nearly another ten to get him in the backseat.  As they drove back to Julie’s house, she turned to Bret and whispered, “What is he on?”

 

            Bret glanced in the rearview mirror.  “Dope,” he said simply, and went back to focusing on the road.

 

            “You mean like heroin?”

 

            “Yes.” 

 

            “You guys do that stuff?”

 

            Bret didn’t answer her.  She repeated the question, and he still didn’t reply.  “Make sure he doesn’t puke in my car,” he said after a minute, with a finality that clearly told Julie to stop asking questions.

 

            The rest of the trip continued in strained silence.  When they parked in front of the house, Bret turned to face Sebastian.  “Do you think you can walk by yourself, jackass?”  Julie recoiled at the harshness in his tone.

 

            Sebastian made a noise in his throat.  Bret got out of the car, looking disgusted, and turned to Julie.  “I’m going inside,” he said.  “If he can’t get from here to there by himself, that’s on him.”  Without waiting for a response, he hurried into the house.

 

            Julie sat still, looking out into the night, for a few long moments before sighing and turning around.  “Sebastian?”

 

            He opened first one eye, then the other, sleepily.  “Yeah?”  His voice was sluggish and thick.

 

            “Are you okay?”  She actually wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but she decided that really wasn’t going to make the situation any better.  For the moment, she was just going to have to suck it up and play good cop to Bret’s bad cop.

 

            “I’m fine,” he said, or at least that’s what it sort of sounded like.  His eyes had closed again.

 

            Frustrated, Julie clambered into the backseat and onto his lap.  “I said, are you okay!” she said loudly, into his ear.

 

            Sebastian’s head shot up and he opened his eyes fully.  “What the fuck!  I said I was fine!”

 

            “No, you said something unintelligible, and you’re not acting like someone who’s fine,” Julie corrected him.

 

            Sebastian made a noise that could have been a sigh.  “Julie, I’m okay.  I’m just a little high.”

 

            She snorted.  “Saying you’re a ‘little high’ is like saying the Grand Canyon is kind of a big ditch.”

 

            “Is this some kind of ‘just say no’ speech?”

 

            “Oh, please.  You can shoot heroin until your arms fall off, I’m not your mother.”  Julie realized her tone sounded more harsh than she’d meant it to and she softened it.  “I think you gave Bret a scare back there.”

 

            Sebastian rolled his eyes, as much as someone doped out of their head can roll their eyes.  “Bret’s seen me like that about fifty times.”

 

            “Well…” Julie faltered.  “He didn’t want to see you hauled off to jail.  You have me to thank for that, by the way.”

 

            “I’m stoned, I’m not deaf,” Sebastian said.  “I know you saved my ass.  That sister bit was kind of slick.”  He paused.  “So yeah, thanks or whatever.”

 

            “Well, since you said it with such heart, you’re welcome.”

 

            Sebastian’s arms suddenly came up around Julie’s waist and she stiffened involuntarily.  “Anyway, Julie, I think it was you who was scared back there.”

 

            “Scared of what?” Julie said, although she knew he was mostly right.  It had freaked her out to see him in the alley like that.

 

            “I don’t know, nice little rich girl like you?”  She couldn’t really argue that, either.  At her father’s parties she’d seen a lot of things, and she was sure that people had been doing every drug under the sun at them, heroin not excluded, but she’d never seen it.  Or if she had, it wasn’t like this.  She must have looked wounded by his remark, because Sebastian continued to speak without the sarcastic edge in his voice.  “Look, I’m sorry, it just hasn’t been the best of nights, you know?”  One of his hands was slowly rubbing her back.

 

            “It hasn’t exactly been a party for me, either.”

 

            “Sorry I ruined your night.”

 

            “You didn’t.  Well, I mean, you might have been the cherry on the sundae, but the night was shaping up to suck before that.”

 

            “You didn’t have a good time at Ataxia?”  He slurred on the club’s name.

 

            “Well, I mostly did, I guess.  I’m a little tipsy.”  She told him the story about Bret’s fight.

 

            Sebastian smiled a little.  “How chivalrous of him,” he said.  “Sorry I missed it.”

 

            Julie looked at him.  “I think you were having a better time.”

 

            He sighed and smiled.  “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.  But if I was there, I would have kicked the shit out of that guy for you.”

 

            “I’m sure you would have.” 

 

            They fell silent.  Julie thought about getting up and dragging Sebastian into the house, but the leftover alcohol and her general lack of motivation stopped her.  His hand was still kneading gentle circles on her lower back and she was lulled by the soothing motion.  She closed her eyes. 

 

            Things went into motion very quickly.  All at once, both of Sebastian’s hands were on her, his mouth pressing insistently against hers.  A voice in her marveled at the fact that someone on heroin could move with such speed.  Another voice interrupted the first one to tell it to shut up and pay attention to what was happening.  For the second time that night, Julie found her tongue intertwining with Sebastian’s.  He wasted no time pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it aside. 

 

            Julie pulled back and said breathlessly, “Bret…”

 

            Sebastian smirked.  “No, I’m Sebastian.”

 

            “I mean, what about Bret…”

 

            “He’s not invited.”  Sebastian shut her up by fastening his mouth to hers again, then moved to kiss her neck.  Julie exhaled sharply, feeling again the magnetism she’d felt the first time this had almost happened.  In a fluid motion, he unbuttoned her pants and worked his hand into them, and Julie sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of his neck to keep from crying out.  This action was rewarded with a low, gutteral sound from Sebastian, and she paused to peel his shirt off.  His upper body was smooth and sleek, and once again Julie found herself thinking of a graceful animal. 

 

            “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Sebastian purred, his face buried in her hair.  Julie felt a chill race up her back at his words, and reached down to unbutton his jeans.  

 

            Somehow, through a combined effort, they managed to slide Julie’s pants off, and they were tossed aside with her shirt.  They paused for a moment.  “Are you sure?” Sebastian asked breathily. 

 

            “No,” Julie answered, as he slid himself into her.

 

§

 

            Julie ran her fingers through her hair in a half-assed attempt to make it lay smoothly again.  “Come on!” she said urgently to Sebastian. 

 

            Sebastian buttoned his jeans and looked at her, but didn’t make any move to get out of the car.  “What’s the big hurry?”

 

            “We’ve been out here for an hour.  Don’t you think Bret’s wondering what the fuck happened to us by now?”

 

            Sebastian chuckled.  “Maybe.  Why do you care so much?”

 

             “I don’t know,” she replied.  “It’s just rude to leave him in there.”

 

            “Well, aren’t you the considerate little hostess?” Sebastian scoffed.

 

            “Are you coming or what?” Julie asked impatiently.

 

            Sebastian leaned his head back.  “I think I’m just going to stay here, actually,” he said. 

 

            “What, you mean sleep in the car?”

 

            “Trust me, I’m comfortable.”  He smiled at her.  “Even more comfortable now.”

 

            Julie blushed a little.  “You sure?”

           

            “You’ve never shot smack, have you?”  He didn’t wait for an answer.  “Being upright on smack has a tendency to make a mess.  I’d just as soon sleep it off out here.”

 

            “All right, then, whatever you say,” Julie said, sighing a little.  “I’ll leave the front door open, just in case.  Um… goodnight.”

 

            “’Night,” Sebastian mumbled.  He was already dozing off.

 

            Julie hurried into the house and stopped in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before going off in search of Bret.  She stopped briefly in front of a mirror in the foyer and decided that she didn’t look too bad, probably no worse than the earlier events of the evening would have made her look.  She took the stairs two at a time and found Bret in her father’s room, flipping channels.  “You were gone a while,” he addressed her without looking up.

 

            “Sebastian didn’t want to get out of the car,” Julie said.

 

            “And what, you spent an hour trying to convince him he did?”

 

            Julie decided to definitely keep her mouth shut about what she had spent an hour doing.  “No,” she answered, “but I didn’t want to leave him out there alone.  I wasn’t sure if he was okay.”

 

            “Baz is fine.  He pulls shit like this all the time.”

 

            “I wouldn’t know,” Julie replied.  “I’m sure he was ‘fine’ by your definition the night he fell through the table, too, but I stayed with him then.  It’s just what I do.”  She shrugged.

 

            Bret relaxed a little.  “You’re a good person, Julie.  Better than I am.”  He paused.  “I should have been out there with you.”

 

            The inside of Julie’s head made a noise like a hundred rubber bands snapping.  “It’s okay,” she said, meaning it more than Bret could possibly have understood.  “He’s sleeping now, anyway.”      

 

Bret motioned for her to join him on the bed.  “Don’t worry about Baz,” he said.  “He’ll be okay.  If I thought he wouldn’t be, I wouldn’t have left him out there in the first place.”

 

            “I know,” Julie said, putting her bottle of water on the nightstand.  “I guess sometimes my maternal instincts get the best of me.”  Maternal instincts have nothing to do with what just happened, someone in her head scoffed.

 

            Bret moved closer to her.  “It’s kind of cute, the way you take care of people,” he said, smiling a little.

 

            Julie laughed.  “If you say so.” 

 

            Bret leaned up on one elbow so that the pair were eye to eye.  “Anyway,” he said, his voice softening, “didn’t we have a date?”

 

            There was that rubber-band noise again as Julie realized there was probably no graceful way to back out of the situation.  “I said ‘we’ll see’,” she admonished lightly, even though she knew exactly where this was going.  She opened her mouth to say more, but Bret silenced her with a kiss.

 

            Julie immediately compared Bret’s kisses to Sebastian’s.  Both of their mouths were soft, and tasted similarly of alcohol, cigarettes, and boy, but Bret’s kisses themselves were softer, less insistent.  Sebastian kissed like a wild animal about to feed.  For the second time in the course of the night, Bret began to make a trail of kisses down Julie’s body, and her mind raced.  The little alcohol that was left to cloud her brain slowed her down just enough to keep her from stopping things from progressing, and after what had just happened with Sebastian, she thought that there was no real reason to stop now anyway.  She’d already fucked up quite majorly; why not go two for two?  She closed her eyes as Bret reached down to unbutton her jeans.  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said weakly.

 

            “Yes, we should.”  He kissed her stomach.

 

            “Why,” Julie said, quietly, arching her back slightly.

 

            “Because it’s good,” Bret said simply, his voice low, his hair brushing against her chest.  His words made strange sense, and Julie put her hands on his shoulders and stopped resisting.

 

§

 

            Julie knew the bed was empty before she opened her eyes, and for a while, she just stayed where she was, eyes closed, thinking about that.  Part of her was disappointed, like any girl would be, that she didn’t wake up to cuddles and breakfast in bed, but she hadn’t really expected it.  The more realistic part of her was greatly relieved that she didn’t have to roll over and face him yet.  For a moment, she pondered upon the idea of simply staying right where she was until her father came home, but decided that would be impractical.  Reluctantly, she pulled herself out of bed and started slowly towards the bathroom.  Before anything else, showering was an absolute necessity.

 

            She pushed the bathroom door open and was met with Bret sitting on the edge of the bathtub.  “Shit, sorry!” she said instinctively, and was about to leave when she realized several things about the scene before her that were a bit off.  Bret was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, something that Julie couldn’t find many logical reasons for.  Moreover, he had a needle in his hand.

 

            “Um,” Bret said.

 

            “You say that a lot,” Julie said, trying to figure out what to do, or why this suddenly mattered. 

 

            “Listen, Julie, I—“

 

            She cut him off.  “You don’t need to explain yourself.”  She wanted to say more, but no words came to her, and a voice in her head was screaming at her to just get away from this situation and how she was feeling about it.  She backed out of the room, closing the door behind her, and took off across the house. 

 

A few minutes later, breathless, Julie found herself in the attic.  She sat down heavily on a dusty chest.  “What the hell is the matter with you?” she asked herself out loud.  She pulled her crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one, her hands shaking a little.  She had to figure out what the hell was going on, both in- and outside of her head.  Question number one was, why did she care that she had found Bret in the bathroom with a needle?  Actually, no, question number one was, why had she—

 

Her train of thought was interrupted by a door slamming.  She couldn’t possibly have heard the front door slamming from where she was, which meant it had to be a door on the floor below her.  Julie sighed and went to investigate. 

 

It was the door to the master bedroom that had been slammed shut, but when Julie bit her lip and opened it, expecting to have to face Bret, the room was empty.  She stood still for a moment, confused, until she heard the front door slam shut.  She immediately turned to go after him, but thought better of it.  He hadn’t bother to come looking for her, after all, and besides, she didn’t have any idea what she’d say to him.  She didn’t even know what to say to herself. With a sigh, Julie entered her father’s room and sat down on the bed.  She needed to talk to someone about this, she knew, and the unfortunate reality was that the only option she had was Sam.  She’d just have to leave out the part that the characters involved were rock stars, that’s all.  She dialed Sam’s number, and when her friend answered, she said simply, “Need to talk, come over,” and hung up without waiting for a reply.

 

§

 

“Thanks,” Sam said, taking the cup of coffee that Julie was extending to her.  “Now…what’s up, Jule?  Not to be rude, but you look like shit.”

 

Julie took a seat across the table from her.  “It’s been a rather long couple of days,” she replied.  “Are you sure you want to hear about this?”

 

“Maybe not,” Sam admitted, “but you said you needed to talk, so I’m here to listen to it.”

 

Julie sighed deeply.  “Well, I met these two guys,” she began, knowing that if she mentioned that she’d met them because of her father, Sam would put two and two together and get ‘hair metal’.  She continued talking until she had related the entire story, from the broken table, to the bar sleaze, to the arrest, to the sex, to what had happened just a little while earlier.  “And then I called you,” she finished, and sighed again.

 

“Jesus Christ, Jule!” her friend exclaimed.  “Where are these guys now?”

 

“I have no idea,” Julie answered.  “I’m not sure I want to know.  I’m not sure if they’re going to come back or what.”  She almost added how her father would be pissed if Bret didn’t come back, but caught herself. 

 

            “Well, sweety, I wish I had some kind of sage advice to give you, but through all the crazy shit that I’ve seen, this seems to be on the top of the list so far,” Sam said, shaking her head.  “Do you like them?”

 

            “No,” Julie said quickly.  “Well… yeah.  I mean, I guess I do, sort of.  Just don’t ask me why, and don’t ask me to choose between the two of them, because I really have no fucking idea.”

 

            Just then, the front door banged shut and Julie distinctly heard two sets of footsteps tramping through the house in the direction of the kitchen.  How the fuck did they always know exactly where in the house she was?  “Fuck,” she said, defeated.  This was going to be such a scene.

 

            “Look, Julie, about this morning – oh, shit, I didn’t realize you had company,” Bret said, coming into the kitchen with a much less disheveled-looking Sebastian on his heels.

 

            Julie balanced her forehead on the top of her water bottle and stared at the table.  “Bret, Sebastian, this is Sam,” she said flatly.

 

            “Hey,” Sebastian and Bret said simultaneously.  Sam made a sputtering sound.

 

            Bret turned back to Julie.  “Julie, about this morning, I can explain that.”

 

            “You don’t have to,” she responded, peeking at him from over the bottle.

 

            “Sure, he does,” Sebastian said, taking a seat at the table. 

 

            Sam was turning pink and attempting to talk.  “You… you…”

 

            Bret raised an eyebrow.  “Yes, we are,” he said to her.  Sebastian put his hand over Sam’s and told her to relax.

 

            Sam turned to Julie, wide-eyed.  Julie thought of an excited Labrador retriever.  “You… you…” she began again.  “YOU SLEPT WITH THESE GUYS?!” she finally managed to spit out. 

 

            The water bottle toppled over and hit the table with a dull thud, and Julie wished the floor would just spontaneously open up and swallow her.  She wondered if this could possibly get any worse.  Sebastian made a noise that was something between an expression of surprise and a laugh.  Bret opened his mouth as if to say something, stopped himself, and walked out of the room. 

 

            “Fuck,” Julie said.  She turned her attention to Sam.  “Sam, I think you’d better leave.”

 

            “Are you kidding?!?”  Sam was staring intently at Sebastian, who was trying not to laugh.

 

            “No, Sam, I am not kidding.  You need to leave now.”  Sam looked about to protest but apparently saw something in Julie’s gaze that told her that her friend was totally serious.  She stared at Sebastian for another minute, mumbled something about calling later, and left.

 

            A few minutes passed in stony silence before Sebastian finally asked, still smiling, “So, you fucked Bret?”

 

            There was no way to save face in such a predicament, really.  “Yes,” she said quietly.

           

 “What’s wrong?”

 

            Julie looked at him as though he’d just grown a third arm.  “What’s wrong?” she repeated, incredulous.

 

            “That’s what I said.  What’s the big fucking deal?  So you slept with both of us.  You’re not the first girl.” 

 

            Julie just looked at him for a minute and thought that his flippancy was a bit forced, but declined to comment on it.  Finally, she said, “Maybe not, but this is a first for me, so forgive me if I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to behave in this situation.”  She paused.  “It’s just been a fucked up couple of days.  I mean, between the sex, and the two of you shooting heroin, and—“

 

            Sebastian cut her off.  “Bret wasn’t doing heroin.”

 

            “What are you talking about?  I caught him shooting up in my bathroom a couple of hours ago!”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “Yes, you did, but he wasn’t doing heroin.”

 

            “What the fuck was it, then?  Coke?  Either way, it’s not a pleasant wake-up call!”

 

            “It wasn’t coke, either.  Calm down and listen to me for a minute here, okay?”  He waited for her to nod before continuing.  “Julie, Bret’s diabetic.  He has to give himself shots of insulin every day.”

 

            Julie just stared at Sebastian dumbly for a few minutes, unable to either comprehend or respond to what she’d just been told.  Finally, she just said, “Shit.  I didn’t know.”

 

            “Of course you didn’t,” Sebastian said.  “And Bret didn’t expect you to.  He was coming back here to explain it to you.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “This couldn’t possibly get any more fucked up,” she said.

 

            Sebastian laughed.  “You wanna bet?”

 

            Julie gave him a Look.  “Anyway,” she said, “if this is such a minor transgression for you guys, then why did he storm out of here like that?”

 

            Sebastian shifted uncomfortably and lit a cigarette, not looking at her.  “I have no idea,” he said after a minute.  “Bret’s just a moody fuck.”

 

            Julie sensed his unease and considered pushing the issue, but instead rose to her feet.  “Well, I guess I should get up there and try to apologize to him.”

 

            “What are you sorry for?” Sebastian asked her.

 

            Julie hesitated.  “For not giving him the chance to explain himself,” she said.  She was also sorry that she seemed to have somehow hurt his feelings, something that she would have considered virtually impossible, but she thought it best to not mention that in present company.

 

            “Good,” Sebastian replied.  “Just making sure.”

 

            Julie hurried up the steps and to her father’s bedroom, going over possible things to say in her head.  With a breath, she pushed the door opened, prepared to start with something along the lines of, ‘Listen, Bret, I’m sorry,’ or something equally corny.  What actually came out was, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

 

            Bret pulled back from Sam and leaned against the headboard, while Sam scrambled to pull her shirt down.  “Julie!” Sam exclaimed.  “I can explain!”

 

            “No, you really can’t, Sam,” Julie retorted, then focused on Bret.  “But maybe you can!”  She felt as though she had no control over the words that were flying out of her mouth.

 

            “What’s to explain?” Bret said, his voice cold.  It wavered slightly.

 

            Julie opened her mouth to reply, but turned to Sam.  “You get out of here,” she said evenly.  “We will talk about this later.”

 

            “But, Julie, I—“

 

            “But you want to stay here and make out with the big cool rockstar?  Tough shit.  Get out of my house,” Julie said, not quite able to believe how cruel she was being.

 

            Sam sat still for a moment longer before looking at Bret.  “Bret, um,” she began, but Bret put his hand up to silence her.  Defeated, Sam left the room.  Julie waited to hear the front door slam shut before closing the bedroom door and turning her attention back to Bret.

 

            “What the fuck was that all about?” she demanded.

 

            “I don’t know what you mean,” Bret said coolly. 

 

            “She’s my best friend.”

 

            “And Sebastian is my best friend.  What’s your point?”

 

            Julie was momentarily defeated, but managed to continue looking angry.  “What does it matter to you?  This isn’t the first time you two have shared a girl, I’m sure!”

 

            Bret glared at her.  “You’re right, it isn’t.  And it isn’t a big deal.”  He didn’t sound terribly sure of himself. 

 

            “Then why did you stomp off in a huff?” Julie demanded.

 

            Bret hesitated, but only for a second.  “Because you’re a fucking liar.”

 

            “What did I lie about?”

 

            “Oh, I don’t know, Julie.  How about last night when you were ‘taking care of Sebastian’?” He snorted.  “What did you call that?  Your maternal instinct?”

 

            “Oh, don’t turn this around on me!  You were about to fuck my best friend!”

 

            “That sounds more like a problem to address with your best friend,” Bret countered.  “Who, I might add, I didn’t know was your best friend until five minutes ago.”

 

            “Fuck, Bret!  It doesn’t even matter that Sam’s my best friend.  You were about to fuck someone else in my house!”  Julie took a breath.  “Christ, it was even in the same bed.”

 

            “And you were in my car,” Bret retorted.  “Besides, who the fuck cares?  You obviously don’t.”

 

            “How can you say I shouldn’t care that you were about to screw my best fucking friend—“

 

            “In the same bed, in your house, blah blah blah,” Bret cut in.  He climbed off the bed and crossed the room to her.  “Just fucking shut up about it already.”  In one quick motion, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.  She felt his tongue trying to force its way into her mouth.

 

            Although part of her wanted to relent, Julie put his hands to his chest and pushed him away with all of her strength.  “What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded.

 

            Bret wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “I thought that was all you cared about,” he said coldly.

 

            Julie looked at him for a long moment before speaking.  “Get the fuck out of my house.”

 

            Bret looked at her, his face serious, but Julie thought she saw something else behind his eyes.  “Is that what you want?”

 

            “You’re damn right,” Julie spat out. 

 

            “Fine.  I’m gone.”  Bret grabbed his leather jacket off the floor and tore out of the room.  Julie watched him leave and sat down heavily on the bed.  She felt an urge to cry, but bit it back.

 

            A few minutes later, Sebastian poked his head around the corner.  “Can I come in?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “Sure.”

 

            He came in and sat next to her on the bed.  “Didn’t seem like that went so well,” he said after a minute.

 

            “You could say that.  Were you listening in the whole time?”

 

            Sebastian grinned.  “Will you hit me if I say yes?”

 

            “No.  Don’t feel like it.”

 

            “In that case, yeah, I heard most of it.”

 

            “Do you have anything insightful to offer?”  Julie lit a cigarette.

 

            Sebastian lit a cigarette of his own and slowly exhaled the smoke.  “Bret,” he began slowly, “is a good guy.”

 

            Julie looked at him.  “That’s your insight?”

 

            “Actually, yeah, it is.  Bret’s a good guy,” he repeated, “and that’s why he acted like that.”

 

            Julie frowned.  “I think I missed a vital step in the thought process on that one.”

 

            Sebastian smiled a little.  “What do you want to know, Julie?”

 

            “What the hell is going on would be a nice start.”

 

            “That’s a pretty broad question.”

 

            She sighed.  “Why did he storm out of the kitchen earlier?”

 

            “Didn’t he tell you it’s because you lied to him about what happened with us?”

 

            “Yes, that’s what he told me,” Julie agreed, “but just between you and me, it sounded like bullshit.”

 

            “It wasn’t, at least not entirely.  He’s genuinely pissed off that you fucked me, then came in here and fucked him like there was nothing to it.”  Although Sebastian’s words were true, the flippant way that he spoke them made Julie’s stomach flip over.  “But I suppose you’re a smart enough girl to figure out that with the type of lifestyle we lead, that sort of thing happens all the time.”

 

            “Right, so what’s the difference this time?”

 

            Sebastian looked at Julie evenly.  “What do you think the difference is?”

 

            Julie shook her head.  “That’s absurd, Sebastian.  He can’t actually give a shit.”

 

            “He gives a shit.”  He paused.  “I’m going to tell you flat out that I think he’s a fucking idiot for giving a shit – but he gives a shit all right.”

 

            Julie considered questioning him on the ‘fucking idiot’ part, but she knew Sebastian was right.  “Why?  Does he give a shit, I mean.”

 

            “Well, this is just my opinion,” Sebastian warned, “but living at least mostly an identical life to his, I think it’s a pretty good guess.”  Julie nodded.  “In our line of work, if you can even call it that, life never slows down.  We’re constantly on tour or in the studio or at parties like the ones your dad throws.  We have very little downtime, and that, incidentally, is also why we’ve been wound a little tight this week.  We have so little free time that we don’t know quite what to do with ourselves when we do have it.” 

 

            Julie listened intently, surprised that Sebastian was capable of talking so calmly.  She decided that just maybe, she’d have to change some of the stereotypes she had of these people.

 

            “Anyway,” Sebastian continued, “don’t get me wrong.  We love what we do.  I mean, come on – we get paid to do what we love and raise hell.  We’re living some kind of fucked-up American dream.  But you make a lot of sacrifices, too.”

 

            “You’ll have to forgive me for not recognizing immediately how hard it must be on you guys to become rich doing what you do,” Julie said.

 

            “It’s all right.  I wouldn’t expect you to.”  He put his cigarette out.  “The thing is, Julie, we don’t have private lives.  That’s the sacrifice.  Everything we do is fair game for the media.  Can you imagine that?”  Julie shook her head.  “And with that,” Sebastian continued, “you lose important things, like friendships.  Bret and I are pretty close, but we’re in the business together, so we understand each other.  It’s hard for us to maintain friendships with people who aren’t, because they don’t get it, and we don’t usually have the time.  And more important than friendships, we don’t have time for girls.”

 

            Julie laughed in that way that one laughs when something isn’t actually funny.  “You seem to do all right,” she said.

 

            “You’ll notice I didn’t say we didn’t have time for getting laid,” Sebastian said.  “It’s true that we can pretty much get our dicks sucked whenever we want, and I’m not going to lie – that’s fucking awesome.”  Julie bit back a smile.  “But a girlfriend?  I haven’t had a real girlfriend since I was seventeen.  I can’t remember the last time Bret went on a date for any reason other than public relations.  The girls whose attention we get aren’t girlfriend material, they just want us because of who we are, and they just want us for a night.”

 

            “You don’t seem to mind,” Julie said, but her tone was softening.

 

            “We don’t, usually,” Sebastian agreed.  “We’re guys, we like to party.  I’m not going to complain about the group of women who follow us everywhere we go, and it’s a mutual thing.  They view us as objects, and we do the same to them.  But all of these women think that there’s nothing to us beyond what we portray on stage or at parties, and that gets tired.”  Julie began to get an idea of what he was getting at.  “Meeting a girl who actually seems to enjoy our company because of who instead of what we are is a very rare occurrence.”

 

            “So let me get this straight.  Bret likes me because I don’t know who he is?”

 

            Something flashed over Sebastian’s face and disappeared as quickly as it came.  “Basically, yeah,” he replied.  “You don’t even respect what we do, and yet you still talk to us.”

 

            “Well, I was kind of forced into the situation.”

 

            “At first, yeah, but you didn’t have to actually hang out with us,” Sebastian said.  “And you certainly didn’t have to sleep with us.”

 

            “And I probably shouldn’t have.”

 

            “Maybe not,” he conceded.  “It definitely makes things more interesting, though.”

 

            “Why isn’t he mad at you?”

 

            “He is, in his way, I’m sure,” Sebastian answered.  “It’s just different between guys.”

 

            “Okay, so why was he such an asshole?”

 

            “Well, honestly, what else was he going to do?  You’re not exactly the sweetest little thing when you’re in a situation that makes you confused and uncomfortable,” Sebastian noted.  “I’m not saying it’s cool that he was on top of your friend when you came up here to apologize to him, but I do see where the guy’s coming from.  You’re pretending you don’t like him as much as he’s pretending he doesn’t like you.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “But I don’t like him,” she argued.  “I mean, I don’t know what I think.”

 

            “And neither does he.”

 

            “All right, fine, I give.  If the way you’re explaining things is right, then I probably owe Bret some kind of apology.  Where do you suppose he went?”

 

            Sebastian glanced at the clock, which read 11:06pm.  “I can’t say for sure, but he probably went to Ataxia.  Do you want me to go with you?”  He sounded hopeful.

 

            “I don’t think that would really help the situation at the moment,” Julie answered, “but if you want to help me out, you could let me use your car.”

 

            Sebastian laughed.  “Yeah, go ahead.”  He handed her the keys.

 

§

 

            After a much-needed shower and a change of clothes, Julie headed off to Ataxia.  Luckily, the same bouncer who had been in charge of the whole fiasco with the drunk sleaze the previous night was now working the door, and remembered Julie’s face.  He was even kind enough to tell her that Bret had been sitting alone at the bar the entire time, which surprised Julie even after her talk with Sebastian.  She made her way through the smoky room and took a seat next to him.  “Buy a girl a drink?”

 

            Bret didn’t answer her, but instead got the bartender’s attention and ordered an electric lemonade.  Once Julie had gotten her drink, he addressed her directly.  “I didn’t expect you to come looking for me.”

 

            “Well, if you didn’t end up being here, I probably would have given up,” she admitted.

 

            Bret took a sip of his drink and sighed.  “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier.  I was out of line.”

 

            “No, I was.  You’re right, it’s Sam I should be taking this up with, not you,” Julie replied.  “And I should have told you about what happened with Sebastian.”

 

            “Why should you have?”  Mercifully, Bret continued without waiting for a response.  “I’m not your boyfriend.  Hell, we’re not even really friends.”

 

            Julie looked down at her drink.  “I think we are,” she said.  “Friends, I mean.  Sort of.”

 

            Bret smiled a little.  “I guess I could use a friend who isn’t in a band.” 

 

            Julie thought back to what Sebastian had said.  “Yeah.  Maybe I could use a friend who is.  I guess I kind of had you guys pegged wrong.”

 

            “Not really,” Bret admitted.  “All of those stories you hear about groupies and drugs and wild parties probably weren’t embellished.  Some of them might have even been edited for content.  We’re not exactly the future of America.”

 

            “Maybe not, but you’re not so bad.”

 

            Bret took another sip of his drink and cleared his throat.  “So, do you regret it?”

 

            Julie swallowed.  “Sleeping with you, you mean?”  He nodded, not looking at her. “I don’t know.  Part of me does.”

 

            “That part’s probably right.”

 

            “I’m sure we’ve both made bigger mistakes.”

 

            Bret laughed. “That’s an understatement.”

 

            “I got a new friend out of it, right?”  Julie felt corny, but she meant what she was saying.

 

            Bret finally looked at her, and Julie had to force herself not to turn away from his eyes.  She still wasn’t quite sure why they had such an effect on her.  “Yeah,” he said quietly after a minute.  “I guess you did.  I should warn you, though, I’m probably not the best friend to have.”

 

            “Why?  Do you hog the covers?”

 

            Bret laughed.  “Probably,” he replied.  “But seriously, if I was you, I wouldn’t want to be friends with someone in my position.  I’m never around, and I can be pretty flighty when I am.”

 

            “You keep me on my toes.”

 

            “I could probably make a crude joke about that, but I’ll refrain.”

 

            “Good call,” Julie said.  “Seriously, though, you can never have too many friends.  Let’s not talk ourselves out of it.”

 

            “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”  Bret finished his drink.  “Where’s Sebastian?  Did he drive you here?”

 

            “No, he lent me his car.”

 

            Bret looked at her.  “He lent you the car?”

 

            “Yeah, why?”

 

            “I don’t think he’s ever lent anyone the car, unless you count the nights I’ve had to drive him home because he was too smashed.  But more importantly, you left him alone at your house?”

 

            “Was that a bad choice?”

 

            “You saw what happened to your table, and he was being supervised for that.”  He paused.  “Well, sort of.”

 

            “You may have a point there.”

 

            “We should probably go make sure he hasn’t burned the place down.  That is, unless you want to stay here a while.”

 

            Julie shook her head.  “I wouldn’t be here at all if I didn’t have to track you down, and now that I’ve accomplished that goal, going home seems like a good idea.”

 

§

 

            Once back at the house, Bret went in first with Julie close behind him, and called out for Sebastian.  There was no response.

 

            “He couldn’t have gone anywhere,” Julie said.  “Could he?”

 

            “Rock stars don’t walk anywhere,” Bret agreed.

 

            “Maybe he’s sleeping.”

 

            “It’s not even 2am,” Bret said, shaking his head.  “This is dinnertime in our world.”  Just then, there was a loud crash from upstairs. 

 

            Julie and Bret exchanged a glance.  “I wonder what piece of furniture just met its unfortunate demise,” she said.  “We should probably go check that out.”

 

            “Whatever he broke, I’m sorry,” Bret said as they headed up the stairs.  Then, in the direction of the master bedroom, he called out, “You’re paying for whatever you destroyed, asshole!”

 

            There was no response.  Julie crossed the threshold into her father’s room before Bret, and sucked in her breath sharply at the sight before her.  The crash had been the lamp falling off of the bedside table.  Apparently, Sebastian had knocked it over on his way to the floor. 

 

            “Fucking drunk bastard,” Bret said, half-smiling.

 

            Julie rushed over to Sebastian.  “Bret, I don’t think he’s drunk,” she said, a hint of panic in her voice.  “Unless drinking turns your lips blue.”

 

            Bret was by her side in a flash, smacking Sebastian in the face.  “Baz,” he said, then again, louder.  Sebastian didn’t respond.  “Go run cold water in the shower.”  Julie didn’t move.  Now, Julie!”

 

            Julie ran to do what she was told as Bret pulled Sebastian semi-upright and dragged him into the bathroom.  Once the shower was on, Bret threw him in the tub.  He still didn’t open his eyes or give any indication that he was aware of what was going on.

 

            “What the fuck is he on?” Julie said, the panic in her voice growing. 

 

            Bret placed his fingers on the side of Sebastian’s neck.  “Coke,” he said after a few seconds.  “Fucking idiot,” he said under his breath.  Julie thought he sounded more scared than angry.  He shook Sebastian harshly.

 

            “Be careful!” Julie said instinctively.

 

            “If I’m gentle…” Bret trailed off.  They both knew the end of the sentence. 

 

            After a minute or so, Sebastian began to stir, then shake violently.  “What’s the matter with him?!” Julie demanded, almost shrieking.

 

            “He shot too much coke,” Bret said, avoiding the word ‘overdose’.  “The good news is, he’s probably not going to die this time.”

 

            Sebastian stopped shaking after a few minutes and muttered something unintelligible.  “What?” Julie and Bret asked simultaneously.

 

            “I said turn off th’ fuck’n water,” Sebastian mumbled.

 

            Bret reached over and turned off the shower spray.  He shook Sebastian’s shoulders again.  “You all right, asshole?”  He tried to sound angry, but his voice betrayed him and his concern showed plainly.

 

            “Mmmm… L’be fnnn… I’ll be fine,” Sebastian managed to spit out. 

 

            “Is he really going to be fine?” Julie asked without looking at Bret.  She crouched down next to Sebastian, who wasn’t looking very well.

 

            “As fine as someone like him can be,” Bret assured her.  “We’re lucky we got here when we did.”

 

            Julie stood up.  “No, he’s lucky we got here when we did.”  She turned to face Bret, and for the second time in just a few minutes sucked her breath in sharply.  Bret’s face was positively grey.  Julie had heard the phrase “he went grey” in the past, but she’d assumed it was just an expression.  This was the first time she’d ever actually seen someone’s face turn that color.  “Bret?  What’s wrong?”

 

            Bret put a hand on the sink to steady himself.  “Nothing,” he said, his voice sounding a little weak.  “I mean, don’t worry about it.  I just need to eat something.”

 

            Julie frowned.  “Do you always look like Casper the Friendly Ghost when you’re hungry?”

 

            “I mean, I need to eat something with sugar in it,” Bret explained.  “I’ll be fine.”

 

            “Are you sure?”

           

            “Yeah.  Just stay here with Sebastian, he’s in more trouble than I am right now.  I’ll be okay.”  Thus saying, he left the bathroom.

 

            Julie wanted to go after him, but she knew he was right, and that Sebastian probably needed looking after more than Bret did.  She sat on the edge of the tub.  “Are you still breathing?” she asked.

 

            Sebastian looked up at her.  “I’m fine,” he said.  “Wet, but fine.”

 

            “Totally fine?”

 

            “Totally fine,” he promised.  Julie smacked him across the face.  “What the fuck was that for?!” Sebastian demanded, rubbing his cheek.

 

            “Because you’re a fucking asshole, that’s why,” Julie said. 

 

            Sebastian pulled himself into a more upright position.  “What?”

 

            “You scared the shit out of me,” Julie said.  “What the fuck were you thinking?”

 

            “Well, I wasn’t thinking, ‘Gee, I better not do this, because I might scare somebody’.”

 

            “Obviously!  Maybe you should have.  Wasn’t getting arrested for dope the other night enough for you?”

 

            Sebastian chuckled.  “Of course it wasn’t,” he said.  At least he was honest, Julie found herself thinking. 

 

            “So that makes it okay for you to scare the living shit out of me?”

 

            Sebastian softened a little.  “I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he said.  “Do you think I planned to end up turning blue and soaking wet in your bathtub?”  He pulled himself out of the tub and peeled his shirt off.  “It’s fucking freezing in here.”

 

            “No, it isn’t, you’re just drenched, not to mention the fact that you just nearly overdosed.”

 

            “I didn’t ‘nearly overdose’,” Sebastian said in a voice that clearly said he wasn’t going to say anything else on the topic.  “But I am drenched.”

 

            Julie rose and handed him a towel.  “That’s your own fault.”

 

            “You didn’t have to throw me in the tub.”

 

            “No, we could have just let you die on my father’s bedroom floor,” Julie said. 

 

            Sebastian began towel-drying his hair.  “Yeah, you could have,” he agreed.

 

            “Oh, shut up. That’s absurd.”

 

            “Is it?”  He turned to face her. 

 

            “Of course it is!  Why would you even say something like that?”

 

            He put the towel down on the sink and looked at Julie.  His wet hair hung messily around his face and dripped down his chest.  For a long moment they stood there like that, neither of them speaking, and Julie had a feeling she knew what was coming.

 

            Sure enough, Sebastian moved closer to Julie and pressed his lips against hers, gently nudging her mouth open with his tongue.  At first, stunned, Julie succumbed to the kiss, feeling a twinge of that electricity she’d felt when they touched each other before.  They kissed for a long time, only their mouths touching, before Sebastian finally brought his hand up to Julie’s side.  That broke the spell, and Julie pulled back.  “What are you doing?” she asked.

 

            “Kissing you,” Sebastian answered simply, and for a moment he seemed like he was going to do it again, but instead he took a step backwards.

 

            “That much is obvious,” Julie replied.  “I don’t get you.”

 

            “What’s to get?  You’re a pretty girl, and I wanted to kiss you.”

 

            “Just a couple of hours ago, you were trying to play matchmaker for me and Bret.”

 

            “All’s fair in love and war, right?” Sebastian said. 

 

            Julie looked at him dumbly for a minute.  “What are you saying?”

 

            Sebastian looked at her evenly for a minute and then picked the towel up again and went back to drying his hair.  He laughed, but it sounded forced.  “I’m not saying anything,” he said.  “Bret’s got nothing to worry about.  All the girls go nuts over that sensitive, nice guy image he’s got going on.”  He paused.  “I don’t go in for that sappy shit.  I just like a tight body.”

 

            Julie wanted to tell him that she could hear uncertainty in his voice, but she couldn’t be sure if she actually did or if some part of her just wanted to.  “I should probably go find Bret,” she said.

 

            Sebastian didn’t look at her.  “Yeah, you probably should,” he said.  Julie thought he sounded vaguely sad, but didn’t press the issue.  Instead, she left the bathroom and headed downstairs to check on Bret. 

 

            Bret was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass of orange juice.  He looked considerably better than he did a little while before.  “You okay?” she asked, taking a seat at the table.

 

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” Bret replied.  “You don’t have to worry about me.”

 

            Julie shrugged.  “I don’t have to worry about Sebastian, either.”

 

            “True enough, but I didn’t just overdose.”

 

            “Touché,” Julie said.  “Are you sure you’re all right?  Can I get you anything?”

 

            “No, I’m really okay,” Bret assured her.  “But listen, Julie, I’ve been thinking.”

 

            Julie raised an eyebrow.  “That can’t be good.”

 

            Bret smiled a little.  “I was just thinking that maybe, in light of everything that’s happened over the past few days…”  He paused to take a sip of his juice.  “Maybe we should just stay somewhere else.”

 

            “No!” Julie said immediately, and just as quickly scolded herself internally for sounding so desperate.  “I mean, I think my father would be insulted if he came home and you had just up and left, you know?”

 

            Bret looked at the table.  “Your father would be insulted,” he repeated quietly.  “Well, I’m sure he understands that in our lifestyle, things change on a moment’s notice.”

 

            “Yeah,” Julie had to agree.  “But… I don’t know.  I guess I don’t want you to leave.”  She didn’t look at him.

 

            “You don’t?”

 

            Julie forced herself to meet his gaze.  “No,” she said.  “I’ve rather gotten used to you.”

 

            Bret smiled a little.  “What about Baz?”

 

            “He can stay, too,” she said.  “It’ll be like a big slumber party.”

 

            Bret looked away again.  “Yeah,” he said, “it should be fun.”  He finished his drink.  “Is Baz okay?”

 

            “I think he’s going to live,” Julie replied, smiling a little.  “Although I think the only lesson he took from this experience is that he doesn’t enjoy being wet and cold.”

 

            “That’s Baz for you.  We should probably go check on him and make sure he hasn’t soaked the entire upstairs.”

 

            Julie laughed.  “You’re probably right.” 

 

            They found Sebastian sitting on Julie’s father’s bed, smoking a cigarette.  He had changed his jeans, but hadn’t bothered putting another shirt on, and his hair was still wet.  “You okay now, jackass?” Bret asked, not sounding as harsh as he probably wanted to.

 

            “I’m fine, asshole,” Sebastian replied, grinning.

 

            “Care to explain why you’re wearing my pants, then?”

 

            “If you or the lady would prefer I sit around naked, that can certainly be arranged.”  He reached for the button on the pants.

 

            Bret jumped onto the bed and grabbed Sebastian’s wrists.  “That’s something I don’t think I need to see.”

 

            Sebastian laughed and kicked around a little bit, not really trying to get away.  “Aw, Mr. Sensitive doesn’t like little boys, too?”  Julie bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. 

 

            “I know you didn’t just call me a queer,” Bret said, putting more effort into restraining Sebastian.

 

            “Hey, you’re the one jumping around on a bed with a half-naked man on it,” Sebastian retorted, kicking harder.  The comforter slid off of the bed and onto the floor.  That time Julie couldn’t help laughing out loud. 

 

            “Only because you threatened to be a totally naked man,” Bret corrected.

 

            They continued to wrestle around for a few minutes, and Julie had to dive onto the bed to save Bret from getting a lamp to the skull.  “All right, boys,” she said.  “It’s been a long night.  Why don’t we get some sleep?”

 

            Bret let go of Sebastian.  “That actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he agreed.

 

            Sebastian rose to his feet.  “Are you kidding?  It’s barely two in the morning.”  He laughed.  “You guys are fucking weak.  I’m going to the club to have a little nightcap.”

 

            Julie put the lamp back in its proper position and turned to Sebastian.  “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

 

            “Yeah, Baz,” Bret agreed, “maybe you’ve had enough fun for one night.  Why don’t you just get some sleep?”

 

            “Nah,” Sebastian said, waving them off.  “I’m fine.  Anyway, I’m not tired.”

 

            Bret and Julie exchanged a glance.  “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t be,” Bret said.

 

            “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Julie asked.

 

            “I’ll be fine.  Thank you for saving my ass yet again.”  He walked to the door and said, “Don’t wait up, kids,” before leaving.

 

            “He’s a lunatic,” Julie noted, pulling the covers off of the floor and back onto the bed.

 

            “That’s one word for it.”  There were a few minutes of silence as Julie put the bed back together.  “Um… you sleeping in here tonight?” Bret asked, not looking at her.

 

            Julie hesitated, unsure of how to respond to that.  The thought of where she was going to sleep hadn’t even crossed her mind.  She thought that perhaps sleeping in the same bed might not be the best of ideas, but also assumed that Bret might be offended if she didn’t.  “Yeah, sure,” she said finally.  “If you want me to.”

 

            Bret still didn’t look at her, and made himself busy taking off his shoes.  “Sure,” he said.  “It’s always nice to have a warm body next to you.  I mean—“

 

            “I know what you mean,” Julie interjected.  “This house gets pretty creepy at night sometimes, anyway.  I’m just going to go get changed and all that shit, and then I’ll be back in.  I’m exhausted.”

 

            “Me, too,” Bret agreed.  “It’s been a rather crazy day.”

 

            Julie snorted.  “If you think these past couple of days have been crazy, imagine how I feel.”

 

§

 

            Sebastian somehow managed to park his car in a somewhat straight position and turned off the engine.  He sat there for a few minutes, trying to sober up at least enough to walk into the house without incident, and then noticed someone standing by the front door.  Curious, he pulled himself out of the car and staggered in their direction.  It turned out to be the girl that had been there earlier in the day, although he couldn’t remember her name.  “Hey… hey, girl,” he slurred.

 

            “Um… hi,” she replied, obviously nervous.  “I… I was just coming over to apologize to Julie.”

 

            Sebastian glanced up to the second-story windows.  “Julie…” he began.  “I think they’re… asleep.”  He laughed.

 

            “Oh…” she said.

 

            “Whatsyer name ag’n?” Sebastian asked drunkenly.

 

            “Sam,” the girl said, her voice unsteady.

 

            “Hi, Sam. I’m Sebastian,” Sebastian said, trying to sound cordial.

 

            “I know,” Sam replied.  “Anyway, um, if Julie’s… um, sleeping, then I guess I’ll just… get going.”

 

            Sebastian eyed the girl as well as he could after a few too many jack and cokes.  He wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey talking or not, but she seemed fairly attractive.  “I’m not ready for bed yet,” he offered.  “Wanna come inside?”

 

            Sam shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  “Um… yeah,” she said, her voice eager.

 

            “Good, good,” Sebastian said, leading the way inside.  “Sit down!” he offered, as though the house was his.  “I’m just going to go get us a little drink.” 

           

            He came back in a few minutes later with a full bottle of Jack Daniels, which he proceeded to open and take a deep swallow from.  “Want some?” he offered, extending it to Sam.  She took it from him and sipped at it cautiously.

 

            “So… what is it you came over for again?”

 

            “Um,” Sam said, “To apologize.  Um, to Julie.”

 

            “Oh, oh, right, that,” he said.  “Well, she’s… they’re upstairs.”

 

            Sam took another sip from the bottle, and then a bigger one.  “Yeah, you said,” she replied, and offered him the bottle.

 

            “No, you go ahead,” Sebastian said.  “I’m good.” 

 

            They sat, quiet, for a little while, with Sam taking periodic swigs from the bottle of whiskey.  “I can’t believe I’m sitting on a couch with Sebastian Bach,” she said finally.

 

            “I’m afraid I’m not much in the flesh.”

 

            “Not much in the flesh?  What are you talking about?” Sam said, obviously relaxed by the alcohol.  “I fucking adore you,” she continued.  “Your music is incredible!  And you’re hotter than anyone I’ve ever—“

 

            Sebastian shut her up by pressing his lips to hers.

 

§

 

            “Jesus fuck, Baz,” Bret said loudly.

 

            Baz opened his eyes and blinked a few times.  “Hunh,” he said.

 

            “Samantha Christopher, get your fucking clothes on and get the fuck out of my house,” Julie said then, her voice thick with anger.  “How many fucking times do I have to kick you out?”

 

            Sam shot upright and grabbed at her shirt, trying to cover herself with it. “Julie!  It’s… I can explain!  I came over last night to apologize and—“

 

            “And you don’t need to finish that sentence,” Julie cut her off, barely keeping her voice level.  “Just get the fuck out of my house.”

 

            Sam scrambled to get dressed.  “Julie, listen, I’m really sorry, this wasn’t supposed to happen, I…” She spoke fast.

 

            “Save it.  If you’re lucky, I’ll call you later,” Julie said.  Much later.”

 

            Sam looked at Sebastian helplessly and seemed about to say something, but didn’t.  She finished dressing quickly and made a beeline for the front door, not turning back. 

 

            “Put some fucking clothes on, asshole,” Bret said to Sebastian once Sam was gone.  “What the fuck were you thinking?”

           

            Baz leisurely pulled his pants on.  “Eh, Bret, what’s the big fucking deal?”

 

            “What’s the big fucking deal?  You’re fucking out of control, Baz!”

 

            “I am not out of control.  That girl—“

            “Sam,” Julie put in quietly.

 

            “See?  You don’t even know her fucking name!” Bret exclaimed.

 

Sebastian ignored the comment.  “Yes, that girl Sam.  She was here when I got back last night, and so—“

 

            “And so you had to fuck her on the couch?”

 

            “What is your deal, Michaels?” Sebastian demanded, standing up. 

 

            “What the fuck are you doing to yourself?” Bret demanded.  “First you get arrested, then you nearly fucking overdose, now this?  It’s fucking ridiculous!”  His voice was steadily rising.

 

            “Calm down, Bret,” Julie said.

 

            “I will not!  This is getting absurd!  Baz, you need to grow up and get your fucking head together.”

 

            “Okay, Dad,” Sebastian replied sarcastically.

 

            “I am not your fucking father!  Lord knows you fucking need one, though.  Sometimes I can’t fucking believe the bullshit you pull.”

 

            “Look, Bret, just because you’re getting too old to party the way we used to—“

 

            “I am not too old to party,” Bret interjected angrily.  “I’m just too fucking smart.”

 

            “Bret, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,” Julie said, attempting to diffuse the situation.  It didn’t work.

 

            “Oh, you’re right, that must be it,” Sebastian said coldly.  “The reason you can’t keep up with me is because you’re a Rhodes fucking scholar.”

 

            “I didn’t fucking say that.  I just don’t feel the need to act like an 18-year-old kid anymore.”

 

            “Whatever, Michaels.  You need to get the fuck over yourself,” he said, and slammed the door behind him as he stomped out of the house.

 

            For a minute, Bret and Julie just stood there, Bret staring after Sebastian and Julie looking at the floor.  Julie spoke.  “You didn’t have to be so hard on him,” she said quietly.

 

            “Oh, what,” Bret said, still angry, “it’s okay that he fucks your best friend, but one little kiss and I’m the evil villain?”

 

            “I didn’t say that,” Julie replied.

 

            “Well, you certainly don’t seem too upset about it.”

 

            “I am upset.  I’m upset with Sam.  You didn’t have to scream at him like that.”

 

            “Oh, what the fuck would you know about how to deal with him?”

 

            “That isn’t how to deal with anybody,” Julie said.  “What good is it going to do?”

 

            “You wouldn’t understand.”

 

            “Well, why don’t you explain it to me?” Julie said, anger creeping into her tone.

 

            Bret ran a hand through his hair.  “Look,” he said after a minute, “I’m sorry if I upset you, but you’ve got to understand, I’ve been through a lot with him, and he’s getting really bad lately.”

 

            “That much is obvious,” Julie agreed.  She sat on the couch and motioned for Bret to sit next to her, which he did.

 

            “Sebastian’s a good guy,” Bret began uncertainly after a moment. 

 

            “He said the same about you,” she said quietly.

 

            “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, before he got his band off the ground,” Bret said.  “Now that they’re making it big, it’s all going to his head.  It’s more than he ever expected, you know?  It’s a lot to handle.”  He lit a cigarette.  “We’re about to put out our third album, and they just did their first.  I’ve been in this game for a long time, I know what it’s like.”

 

            “And he doesn’t.”

 

            “He does, but he doesn’t know it as well.  He’s not an idiot.  He just still has an invincibility complex, just like everyone does when they first get into it.  A couple of years ago, I was just like him.  Always fucked up, always fucking some chick on some couch somewhere.  It’s just the way it goes.”

 

            “And you’re not like that now?”

 

            Bret sighed.  “I’m not gonna lie,” he said.  “I’m not the good guy all of a sudden.  I’m just not as much the quintessential bad boy as he is right now.”

 

            “So if everyone goes through this when they start, why not just let him sow his wild oats, so to speak?”

 

            “Because not everyone comes out the other side,” Bret explained.  “I’ve seen people ruin their entire lives doing what he does, even had a couple of friends die.  I don’t want to see that happen to him.  The better part of all of that bullshit is behind me, shooting up coke in the bathroom, not caring if you live or die.  It gets old, if you’re fortunate enough to make it to the point where it does.”

           

            “So you’re just worried about him.”

 

            “Of course I am.  I don’t want him to be one of the ones who doesn’t make it.”  He put his cigarette out.  “I’ve just seen a lot of shit happen.  I’ve done a lot of shit, I know how easy it can be to go the wrong way in this business.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “I guess I can understand that,” she said.  “I mean, I’ve only known the guy a couple of days and I’m already worried about what he could end up doing to himself.”

 

            “Yeah, now multiply that by the length of time I’ve known the guy.  Sometimes I just get so frustrated with his bullshit.  I don’t mean to go off on him like that, but when nothing you say does any good…” He trailed off.

 

            Julie wasn’t quite sure how to respond.  What Bret was talking about was definitely out of her league, since she knew very little about them and even less about the business they were in, beyond serving them champagne and cleaning up their messes.  She knew that she had to do something, though; it was an uncomfortable situation, and Bret didn’t exactly seem happy.  “You want to go for a swim?” she asked suddenly, and bit the inside of her mouth hard.  She hadn’t intended to say that.

 

            A smile played around the corners of Bret’s mouth.  “Totally forgot you had a pool,” he said.  “Let’s go.”  He got up and started heading through the house.

 

            “I’ll be out in a minute,” Julie called after him.  “I just have to go change.”

 

            Bret turned, grinning.  “What for?” he asked.  “You think I brought my bathing suit?”

 

            “Are you suggesting we swim naked?” Julie asked.  She was stalling.  She knew that was exactly what he was saying, she just wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about the idea.

 

            “Sure,” he said, “we’re friends, right?”  Julie nodded uncertainly.  “Well, this can  be a test of our friendship.”  Thus saying, he turned and continued on his way to the pool.

 

            Bret thought nothing of slipping out of his clothes and diving into the water immediately, but Julie took her time getting undressed, feeling a bit self-conscious.  It suddenly didn’t seem to matter that he’d already seen her naked.  As she slowly peeled off her shirt, she couldn’t help but notice Bret looking at her from the water.  She turned away and finished taking her clothes off, then stood for a moment, trying to decide if she should just dive in, or use the stairs.  After a moment, she decided the sooner she got in the water, the sooner she could stop standing there like an exhibit on display.  Bracing herself for the cold temperature, she dove in.

 

            “Fuck!” Julie exclaimed when she hit the water.  “This is freezing!”

 

            Bret laughed and splashed at her.  “It’s not that cold.”

 

            “Speak for yourself,” Julie replied, splashing him back.  “I have more nooks and crannies than you do.”

 

            “Perhaps you’re not familiar with the term ‘shrinkage’,” Bret said, laughing.

 

            “I can’t believe you just used the term ‘shrinkage’,” Julie replied.  She shivered.  “Maybe I’ll just lay in the sun for a little while before I go for a swim.”

 

            “Wuss.”

 

            “Maybe so,” she said, “but I’m a cold wuss.  Want to join me?”

 

            Bret looked at her for a minute.  “Nah, I think I’ll just swim for a while.”

 

            “Suit yourself.”  Julie swam over to the edge of the pool and pulled herself out.  While she laid out a towel to lay on, she glanced surreptitiously at Bret, who was doing laps.  His lean body moved effortlessly through the water.  She forced herself to turn away, and stretched out on her stomach, deliberately facing away from the pool.  As friends, she didn’t need to be staring at his body, no matter how much more appealing it seemed to become by the moment.  Pushing that thought from her head, Julie closed her eyes and began to doze off.

 

            Suddenly, she was jarred out of her state of half-sleep by hands on her back.  For a moment, she remained still, allowing Bret to massage her shoulders and back, her eyes closed.  Then she said, without moving, “What are you doing?”

 

            “Rubbing your back,” he said matter-of-factly.  “Is that okay?”

 

            Julie thought that her answer would depend on what exactly Bret’s definition of ‘okay’ was.  “Sure,” she said quietly, although she wasn’t.  Bret continued to rub her shoulders, and after a few minutes Julie let herself relax.  His hands slowly moved lower on her body, and she let out a small moan.  Suddenly, Bret stopped, and Julie rolled over onto her back.  “Why did you stop?”

 

            “I can’t do this,” Bret said, running a hand through his hair.

 

            “Why?” Julie asked, although she knew the answer. 

 

            “I’m sitting here, naked, with probably one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen,” Bret answered.  “Do you really think I can stop at a massage?”  Before Julie could reply, he silenced her with a kiss, his body covering hers.

 

§

 

            Julie pulled on her shirt and tried not to look at Bret as he got dressed.  Once they were both clothed, Julie sat down heavily on her towel, and Bret sat on one of the deck chairs.  “What did we just do,” Julie said flatly.

           

            Bret lit a cigarette.  “I think you know what we just did.”

 

            “I mean… what does it mean?”

 

            He sighed.  “I don’t know.”

 

            “Neither do I,” Julie said.  “It goes against my better judgment to say this out loud, but I think this is more than just sex to me.”

 

            Bret didn’t look at her.  “It is to me, too,” he said after a minute.  “You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been in any kind of sexual situation that involved conversation beyond, ‘I can’t believe I’m about to suck Bret Michaels off’.”  He chuckled.  “Now you know my last name.”

 

            “Probably for the best,” Julie replied, and waited for him to continue.

 

            “This situation is really fucked up,” he said.  “I mean, it’s probably a whole lot more fucked up for you, but it’s pretty crazy for me, too.  I don’t even remember how to treat a real girl, for lack of a better way to describe what you are.”

 

            “You’re not doing such a bad job.”

 

            “Thanks, but I don’t know what to do next any more than you do.  I mean, it’s next to impossible to have a girlfriend in this business.”  He put his cigarette out on the cement.  “You… she’d always be wondering what I was doing when I was out on the road.”

 

            “All those groupies.”

 

            “Yeah.  They don’t mean anything, but there’s a lot of them.  Even if I was completely faithful, why would any girl believe that the lead singer of a heavy metal band stayed abstinent on the road?  I don’t think I’d buy that.”

 

            Julie lit a cigarette of her own.  “Could you?” she asked, staring intently at the surface of the water.

 

            “Could I what?”

           

            “Be completely faithful, even out on the road,” Julie answered.

 

            Bret was silent for a long time.  “Well,” he began.

 

            Just then, Sebastian came bounding onto the deck.  “What, you two went for a swim without me?”

 

            Julie stifled a laugh.  “Actually, we were just…” she trailed off.

 

            “Talking,” Bret put in.  “Hey, man, about earlier—“

 

            “Shut up, Michaels,” Sebastian said, waving him off. 

 

            “You seem like you’re in a better mood,” Julie ventured.

 

            “Actually, I’m hungry.  What are you making for me?”

 

            Julie rose to her feet.  “My specialty is take-out,” she responded.  “Chinese or Italian?”

 

            “Chinese,” Bret and Sebastian said simultaneously.

 

           

 

§

 

            Julie finished putting the lo mein into a bowl and called out for Bret and Sebastian.  She felt like a housewife calling her kids to dinner, and laughed at the idea.  One thing she was definitely thankful for was that these guys weren’t her children.

 

            The three sat down at the table.  “Looks good, Mom,” Sebastian said, putting a voice to Julie’s thoughts.

 

            “I’d tell you to clear your plate so you can have dessert,” Julie replied, “but we don’t have any.”  Bret and Sebastian exchanged a glance and smiled.  “There will be none of that,” Julie admonished lightly.

 

            “Terrible pity,” Sebastian noted. 

 

            They ate in silence for a while before Julie spoke.  “So, Bret,” she began cautiously, “it just occurred to me that I have no idea what you’re doing here.”

 

            Bret looked at her quizzically.  “I’m eating sweet and sour chicken.”

 

            Julie smiled.  “No, I mean, what you’re doing here.  As in, why are you staying at my father’s house?”

 

            Bret cleared his throat.  “Oh,” he said, and was quiet for a minute.  Sebastian suddenly seemed very interested in his lo mein.  “Well, that’s kind of a long story, actually.”

 

            “No, it isn’t,” Sebastian said to his food.  Bret shot him a look.

 

            “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s cool,” Julie said, sensing that maybe she hadn’t asked the best question.

 

            “No, it’s all right,” Bret said quickly, still looking at Sebastian, who was still staring intently at his plate.  “I’m just having some problems with the rest of the band.”

 

            “Bret Michaels, picture of mystery,” Sebastian said.  Now he was smiling at his lo mein.

 

            “Well, since you seem to have the story so well memorized, why don’t you explain it?” Bret said.

 

            Sebastian finally looked up from his food and grinned.  “With pleasure,” he said.

 

            “Hey,” Julie interjected, “it’s really not that important.”

 

            “It’s fine,” Bret said.

 

            “This is a perfect example of why people use words like ‘sensitive’ when they’re talking about Bret,” Sebastian said. 

 

            “Just tell the short version,” Bret put in.

 

            “Fine.”  Sebastian put his fork down.  “One of the other guys in the band, Bobby, was going out with this chick.  I can’t remember her name.”

 

            “Marcella,” Bret said quietly.

 

            “Right, Marcella.  Anyway, I guess Bobby wasn’t real good to her, and so she’d always show up at Bret’s place,” Sebastian continued. 

 

            “You make it sound like I was fucking her.”

 

            “Do you want to tell this story?”  Without waiting for Bret to respond, he continued.  “Anyway.  He wasn’t fucking her, just for the record.  They were just friends.  I guess she kind of looked up to him or something.  And one night she showed up at his place, face all fucked up, hysterical.”

 

            “Bobby hit her?” Julie asked.

 

            “That’s an understatement,” Bret replied.

 

            “Yeah, he fucked her up pretty good,” Sebastian agreed.  “So she shows up at Bret’s house, middle of the night, a total mess, and Bret gets her all cleaned up like a good little nurse,” he ignored the look from Bret, “and then he tells her to wait there until he gets back.  So he gets in his car and heads over to Bobby’s place.”

 

            “I think I can see where this is going,” Julie said.

 

            “Yeah.  So he totally goes off on Bobby.  His face probably looked worse than Marcella’s by the time Bret was done.”  He paused to take a bite of lo mein.  “So he tells Bobby in no uncertain terms that his time with Marcella is over and leaves.”

 

            “The guys weren’t really happy about that,” Bret said.  “We couldn’t do much with a bass player who looked like he got in a bar fight.”

 

            “So the band’s taking a little break while Bobby’s face heals.  And they’re not exactly speaking to Bret,” Sebastian finished.

 

            “What happened to Marcella?”

 

            “She went back home,” Bret said.  “Bobby doesn’t know where she went, and I intend to keep it that way.”  He paused.  “So now you know my story.”

 

            “It sounds like you did the right thing,” Julie said after a minute.

 

            “Maybe not the right thing for the band,” Bret said.

 

            “Shut up, Michaels,” Sebastian said.  “The band will be fine and you know it.”

 

            “It doesn’t sound like what happened had anything to do with the band.  You did the right thing on a personal level, isn’t that more important?”

 

            Bret sighed.  “Yeah, of course it is,” he said.

 

            “But don’t tell anybody,” Sebastian said, grinning.  “It would ruin his bad boy image.”

 

            Bret glanced at Julie.  “I’ve probably done a pretty good job of that already,” he said.

 

            For a few minutes, they continued eating in silence, until Sebastian spoke.  “Listen,” he said.  “I’m supposed to go to this little get-together tonight, and I thought maybe you guys would want to come along.”

 

            Bret shrugged.  “Sure, whatever, if Julie wants to go.”  He caught himself.  “Uh… I mean, I don’t want to leave her here…”  He shoved a forkful of food in his mouth.

 

            “Why not?  Sounds like fun,” Julie said quickly, in an effort to save Bret. 

 

            Sebastian just grinned.  “Cool, we’ll head over there in a couple of hours.”

 

§

 

           

            Sebastian parked the car.  “There doesn’t seem to be a lot of people here,” Bret said, sounding a little suspicious.  Julie wondered why.

 

            “It’s not a very big get-together,” Sebastian explained, and got out of the car.

 

            Julie and Bret followed him to the door, and Sebastian knocked.  A voice called out from inside, to which he responded, “It’s Baz!  Let me in, asshole!”

 

            The door swung open and a tough-looking man greeted them.  “These your friends?” he asked Sebastian.

 

            “You bet,” Sebastian answered.  “I’m sure you know of Bret, and this is Julie.”

 

            The man gave them a critical once-over before moving aside to let them into the house.  He led them into the living room, where there were maybe fifteen people sitting down and lying around on various pieces of furniture.  A few of them were on the floor.  One of them, a long-haired guy with sunglasses holding his hair back, looked up at Julie and mumbled something that ended in “beautiful”.

 

            Bret put an arm around Julie’s waist.  “Baz,” he said tightly, “what the fuck is this?”

 

            “Lay off, Casey, she’s spoken for,” Sebastian said to the guy on the carpet.  Then to Bret, he said, “It’s just a little party, a few friends.”

 

            Just then, a tall man with short blond hair came into the room.  “Baz, my good man,” he said, “what do you need?”

 

            Sebastian looked flustered.  “Just stopping by,” he said, then upon realizing that Bret was glaring at him, added, “The usual, Roscoe.”

 

            Julie looked at Bret and mouthed ‘Roscoe?’.  She thought the name was very befitting the shady character that stood before them, rather like someone in a bad movie.  Bret just looked angry, and Roscoe left the room.

 

            Sebastian turned to Bret.  “You know how it is,” he ventured. 

 

            “No, Baz, I don’t know how it is,” Bret said thinly.  “Why don’t you tell me how it is in your thick head that you think it’s acceptable to bring Julie here?”

 

            Julie stiffened.  “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal.”

 

            “It is that big of a deal,” Bret said, still looking at Sebastian.  “What the hell were you thinking?”

 

            “Julie’s a big girl,” Sebastian said.  “I’m sure she can hold her own.”

 

            Julie was unsure which gesture she appreciated more – Bret’s protectiveness, or Sebastian’s faith that she was indeed experienced enough to handle this; and on the flipside, which made her more angry.  More than either of these feelings, however, she just wanted to keep this situation from getting out of hand.  “I can,” she said finally.  “Really, this isn’t that big of a deal, guys.”

 

            Bret and Sebastian started at each other for a moment and Julie found herself thinking about bad Western films.  “Give me your car keys,” Bret said then.

 

            Sebastian made a noise that might have been construed as a laugh.  “You’re fucking crazy.”

 

            “If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” Bret snarled.  “Give me the keys.  I’m getting Julie out of here.”

 

            “Bret, really, it’s okay,” Julie said, but she knew Bret was past the point of listening to her.  She glanced around the room, but no one had moved.

 

            “Stop the Prince Charming routine, Michaels,” Sebastian said.  “This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this situation.  Hell, it’s not even the first time some helpless young thing got dragged into it with you.”

 

            “This isn’t with me,” Bret said simply.  “Are you going to give me your keys, or what?”

 

            “Fuck no.”

 

            “You’ve got to cool it with this tough guy bullshit,” Bret said, reaching for Sebastian’s keys. 

 

            “Back off, Michaels,” Sebastian said, and shoved him roughly.

 

            For just a moment, Bret didn’t move, looking surprised, and Julie thought that might be the end of it.  She bit her lip.  Then Bret sprang into action, shoving Sebastian just as roughly.  Before Sebastian had the chance to react, Julie stepped in between them.  She turned to face Bret, about to yell something about how ridiculous they were acting, when suddenly the right side of her face exploded in pain.  She stumbled backwards into Sebastian, who put his arms around her and held her upright.

 

            It took her a few minutes to figure out that Bret had just punched her square in the face.  For a long time, the three of them just stood there, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.  Through the haze of confusion and pain, Julie still managed to notice that no one else in the room seemed even remotely interested in what was going on.  “Julie,” Bret said, snapping out of his surprise, “are you okay?  Fuck!”

 

            Julie opened her mouth to speak, but Sebastian got to it first.  “What the fuck was that, Michaels?  You’re hitting girls now?”

 

            “You know damn well that isn’t how this happened!” Bret shot back.  “If you hadn’t—“

 

            “Shut the fuck up.  We have to get Julie home,” Sebastian said, already guiding her towards the door.  She thought he sounded genuinely concerned.

 

            “That’s what I’ve been trying to do the whole fucking time!”

 

            “Shut up and come on,” Sebastian said.  “You just fucking decked the girl.”  Then, to Julie he said, kindly, “Can you open the door?”

 

            Julie was still too dumbfounded to speak and mechanically opened the front door.  Sebastian began to guide towards the car, Bret just a few steps behind them.  “You fucking bring her here and now you’re pulling this ‘I care about her’ bullshit?” he asked, incredulous.

 

            “I didn’t just punch a girl in the face, Michaels!  Now get in the goddamn car, you’re driving.”

 

            “What?  Why the fuck should I drive?”

 

            “Because I am going to sit in the back with Julie.  Just shut the fuck up and drive the fucking car,” Sebastian said firmly.  Julie climbed into the car, still not quite sure how to respond.  Sebastian climbed in after her, and Bret, looking confused but still angry, took the front seat and put the keys in the ignition.

 

§

 

            Julie held a towel full of ice against her face and just stood looking out the window into the night and trying to ignore the commotion between Sebastian and Bret.  It wasn't working very well.

 

            "If you hadn't been such a fucking tool back there, this never would have happened," Sebastian insisted.

 

            “Have you considered that if we hadn’t been there in the first place, this never would have happened?” Bret countered.

 

            “Well, excuse me for not knowing that little pussy-boy Bret couldn’t handle the big scary drug dealer’s house!”  He opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, from which he took a long swallow.

 

            “You know goddamn well it wasn’t about that!”  He hesitated for a second, then pulled a bottle of vodka from the cabinet.  He glanced at Julie and then poured some down his throat.

 

            “Oh, we’re back on this ‘I’m protecting the innocent little girl’ bit again?” Sebastian said mockingly.

 

            “Jesus fucking Christ,” Julie said in the direction of the window, then turned to face them.  “Shut up already!  How long can you two do this?”

 

            “As long as he’s got his fucking head up his ass,” Bret replied, taking another drink.

 

            Sebastian snorted.  “More like as long as Mr. Wonderful over there is trying to be your knight in shining shredded jeans.”

 

            “What the hell, Baz!” Bret demanded.  “I just didn’t want the poor girl to have to be in that fucking house!”

 

            “If you didn’t have such a little fucking puppy crush on her—“

 

            Julie cut in.  “Knock it the hell off!

 

            Bret and Sebastian looked at her.  With a noise that was almost a growl, Sebastian threw the bottle of whiskey onto the floor.  It hit with a dull thud and its contents began to spill onto the carpet.  “Fuck this noise,” he said and walked out. 

 

            Bret and Julie stood, silent, in the living room a moment longer; Julie watched Bret staring at the overturned bottle.  He took another long swallow from the bottle of vodka.  Without looking at Julie or saying anything, he followed Sebastian out the door.

 

            Julie stared at the whiskey on the carpet for a little while longer before crossing the room to retrieve it.   With a sigh, she put the cap back on and put it back in the liquor cabinet, not quite sure what to do next.  With both of them gone, she had no way to go after them, nor was she entirely sure she wanted to.  Chances are they weren’t headed in the same direction, and at this point, Julie had no idea which one she’d chase.  Their moods fluctuated so rapidly, and she found herself unable to keep up. 

 

            Tired, Julie climbed the stairs slowly and went through the motions of taking a long, hot shower.  The steam and hot water made her body feel marginally better, but did nothing to ease her aching mind.  She stayed in the shower until the water turned cold, then purposely took as long as possible getting ready for bed, hoping that one of them would come back.  Neither of them did, and finally Julie climbed into her father’s bed alone and went to sleep.

 

§

 

            Julie’s eyes snapped open, and it took her a few minutes to realize where she was.  The dim light that was coming in through the window told her that it was just after sunrise, and that she’d only been asleep for three or four hours.  She rolled over to see if Bret had come in at some point, but the other half of her father’s bed remained as empty at it had been when she’d fallen asleep.  With a tired sigh, she pulled herself out of bed and headed downstairs, barefoot in the halflight, to get some water. 

 

            Sebastian was facedown on the couch.  At some point he’d either retrieved the bottle of whiskey from the night before or procured a new one, which was now laying almost empty on the floor beside him.  He didn’t look terribly comfortable, which Julie assumed meant he’d passed out rather than fallen asleep.  She pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and threw it over him, deciding that despite the events of a few hours earlier, she was glad he’d chosen to come back to her house at the end of the night.  She also made a mental note to tell him at some point that there were quite a few available bedrooms to sleep in.

 

            Julie continued on her way to the kitchen, and jumped when she saw Bret sitting at the kitchen table.  He was smoking a cigarette, and his bottle of vodka, now only a third full, was sitting on the table in front of him.  “You came back,” she said, for lack of anything more intelligent to say.

 

            Bret didn’t look at her.  “Yeah, I’m sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.  I was planning to have us out of here by the time you woke up.  Didn’t expect that to be six in the morning.”

 

            “I didn’t mean it like that.  It’s fine that you’re here.”  Julie got a bottle of water and sat at the table next to Bret, pulling her knees up to her chest.  “I’m actually glad you guys came back.”

 

            Bret snorted.  “Why the hell would you be glad we’re back?”

 

            Julie shrugged.  “Because you’re mad at each other,” she said.  “I’m not part of it, at least not directly.”  She paused. “I mean, I’m not mad at anybody.”

 

            “How could you not be?”

 

            “Because nobody did anything to me on purpose,” Julie said.  “Sebastian was just being Sebastian when he had me come to that guy’s house last night, and you certainly didn’t intend to punch me in the face.”

 

            Bret winced.  “Are you okay?  I can’t really see your face in this light.”

 

            “I’m fine,” Julie replied.  “It’s just a little swollen.  Nothing I won’t get over.”

 

            “I’m really sorry about that,” Bret said.  “I would never hit a girl on purpose.”

 

            “I know that.  It’s really okay.”

 

            “You’re an amazingly forgiving person,” Bret noted.

 

            “You know, I’m really not,” Julie responded.  “It’s just that in light of everything that’s been going on this week, I’m just trying to be as calm as possible.”  She paused.  “But my face really is okay, and I’m really not mad at anybody.  You two can be the mad ones.”

 

            “We’re not really mad anymore.  Until next time, anyway.”

 

            “What ended up happening tonight?”

 

            Bret sighed and put out his cigarette.  “I really had no intention of going after his stupid ass,” he said.

 

            “I figured you would… and I’m glad you did, because I didn’t have the means to go looking for either one of you.”

 

            “And you shouldn’t have to, anyway,” Bret said.  “When I left here, I was going to just go to the club, but halfway there I realized that I didn’t want to go.”  He paused.  “And I realized that I didn’t want Baz to go where he was going, either.”

 

            “Back to that guy’s house?”

 

            Bret nodded.  “So I turned around and drove back over there, and of course when I got there, he was doped up to all hell on the couch.  Had to yell his name about a dozen times before he would open his eyes enough to focus on me.”  Bret’s expression was pained. 

 

            “What’s the attraction?”

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

            “His attraction to heroin,” Julie clarified. 

 

            “I take it you’ve never tried it,” Bret said.  When Julie shook her head, he continued.  “Well, don’t, but if you ever did, you’d know the answer to that.  It really is that good.”

 

            “So you’ve done it.”

 

            “Sweetheart, I don’t know that many people in the business who haven’t, but like I said earlier, that bullshit’s almost entirely behind me now.”  He took a sip from the bottle.  “I’m not going to get on anyone’s case for getting high once in a while, I just don’t want him to like the stuff too much.  Anyway, once I got him to wake up enough to talk to me, I told him we had to get out of there.”

 

            “How did he respond to that?”

 

            “Not well,” Bret admitted.  “Even on smack he was still pissed off about earlier tonight, giving me that ‘why should I listen to you’ bullshit, like I’m his father or something.  So, I played the card that you were probably worried about him.”

 

            Julie smiled a little.  “I was worried about both of you.  Did it work?”

 

            “After a little bit of whining, yeah.  Then we came back here, and he wanted to drink, so I drank with him,” Bret said, motioning to the bottle of vodka.  “But I didn’t have the aid of dope to put me to sleep, so I’ve been sitting here for the past hour or so.”

 

            “You could have come to bed,” Julie ventured.

 

            “Under the circumstances, I didn’t think that was such a good idea,” Bret said.  “I kind of figured you’d never want to see me again.”

 

            “Well, you figured wrong,” Julie said.

 

            “I guess I’m just not used to being around the kind of people who would be so nice about getting hit in the face.  Are you sure you’re all right?”

 

            “Worse things have happened to me, I promise.  I know it wasn’t me you meant to hit.”

 

            “No, it wasn’t, although I admit things could have gotten pretty ugly if I’d hit my intended target.  As fucked up as this may sound, it might be for the best that you got in the way of that.”

 

            “It doesn’t sound that fucked up,” Julie said.  “I’m pretty glad you didn’t end up getting in some kind of brawl with Sebastian.”

 

            “Yeah.  That’s only happened a few times, and it’s never been pretty.”

 

            “From the way you two argue, I’d have thought fistfights would be a pretty regular occurrence.”

 

            Bret shook his head.  “Nah.  We try to avoid that kind of shit.”  He didn’t look at her.  “It takes something pretty serious to get one of us to actually raise a hand to the other one.” 

 

            Julie knew exactly what Bret was saying, but didn’t push the issue.  The sun was coming up a bit more now, and she realized just how tired she still was.  “I want to go back to bed,” she told him.

 

            “Sure, sorry,” Bret said, “didn’t mean to keep you up.”

 

            Julie rose to her feet and said, “You didn’t.  You coming with me or what?”

 

            Bret looked up at her.  “Are you sure?”

 

            She nodded.  “As sure as I can be about anything that’s gone on lately, anyway.”

 

            “No shit,” Bret agreed, rising to his feet.  He put the cap back on the bottle of vodka and followed Julie out of the kitchen and upstairs. 

 

            “Sebastian’s okay down there, right?” Julie asked as they climbed into bed.

 

            “Yeah,” Bret said.  “He might wake up unhappy, but he’ll wake up.”

 

            “Don’t you get tired of worrying about him?”

 

            “Sometimes,” Bret admitted.  “Thankfully, it isn’t always my job.  But it does get tiresome.”

 

            “Always worrying about your friends, with no one to worry about you.”  Julie turned on her right side, her back to him.

 

            “Something like that,” Bret agreed.

 

            “Well, I worry about you,” Julie said quietly.  She felt Bret move close to her and slip his arm around her waist.  Almost without thinking about it, she moved back against him.

 

            “I know.  I don’t get it, but it’s kind of nice.”

 

            “I don’t get it, either,” Julie said.  She felt Bret’s hand over hers as she drifted off to sleep.

 

§

 

             Julie woke up in the same position, but Bret had rolled over onto his back at some point while they slept.  She turned over and watched him sleep for a few minutes, then quietly got up to go downstairs. 

 

            Sebastian was sitting up on the couch with his head in his hands.  “You okay?” Julie ventured.

 

            “Just a little burnt,” Sebastian replied, not looking up.  “I’ll be fine.”

 

            “Hungry?”

 

            “Not even a little bit.”

 

            “Well, I’ll just be in the kitchen, if you need me.”  Julie continued on her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of orange juice and lit a cigarette.  “Breakfast of champions,” she muttered to herself.

 

            A few minutes later Sebastian dragged himself into the kitchen.  “Hi,” he said sheepishly.

 

            “Hi, sunshine,” Julie said.

 

            “You all right?”

 

            “I’d be willing to wager that I’m doing better than you are this morning,” Julie replied.

 

            “Are you kidding?  This is an easy morning for me,” Sebastian said.  “Seriously, how’s your face?”

 

            “I don’t think I’m going to be scarred for life or anything.  Really, I’m fine.  I’m over it.”

 

            “I guess I owe you an apology.”

 

            “Why, Sebastian, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

 

            “Don’t tell anybody.  Seriously, though, I’m sorry I dragged you there last night.”

 

            “Well, thanks for the apology, but I’m really not some porcelain doll that can’t be taken out of its casing,” Julie replied. 

 

            “Try telling Bret that.”

 

            “I’m sure he’ll eventually grow into the idea.”

 

            Sebastian sat down at the table with Julie and lit a cigarette of his own.  “Is Prince Charming still asleep?”

 

            Julie nodded.  “He didn’t go to bed until around 6:30 or so.  I slept from about 2 to 6 this morning, so…”

 

            “I probably passed out around 4:30.  Can’t really explain why I’m awake now.  What time is it, anyway?”

 

            “About noon,” Julie said.  Just then, the phone rang, and they both jumped a little.  “I’d almost forgot we had a phone.” 

 

            “If it’s your dad, don’t tell him we’re misbehaving.”

 

            Julie laughed and answered the phone.  “Um, who’s calling?” she said after a minute, and raised her eyebrows at Sebastian.  She was silent for a moment before continuing.  “Well, actually, he’s sleeping right now… if it’s important I can wake him up and have him call you back.”  Another pause.  “Okay, does he have a number to reach you at?… Okay.”  Then she hung up.

 

            “For Bret?” Sebastian asked.

 

            Julie nodded.  “It was that girl you guys were talking about earlier.”

 

            “Marcella?  She okay?”

 

            Julie shrugged.  “I don’t know.  She said it was important that Bret call her back.”  She paused.  “I guess I should probably go wake him up.”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “If he bothered to give her the number here, you probably should.”

 

            Julie left the kitchen and headed for the stairs, ignoring the strange twinge of jealousy she had felt when she’d heard a female voice asking to talk to Bret.  She choked the thought down, telling herself that she knew Marcella’s story, and there was nothing to be jealous about.  Besides, she had no right being envious, period. 

 

            When Julie got to her father’s bedroom, she just stood for a moment, watching Bret sleep.  He was on his back, the blankets only up to his waist, one arm above his head.  Julie was momentarily struck by how peaceful he looked, compared to how troubled so many of his waking hours were.  She wanted to just quietly leave and let him sleep, but she knew that she had to wake him.  Fully entering the room, she sat on the edge of the bed next to him and put her hand on his chest. “Bret,” she said softly, then again. 

 

            Bret brought his arm down and put his hand on top of hers, but didn’t open his eyes.  Julie sat still for a moment, just looking at their hands, before saying his name again.  This time, he opened his eyes.  “I’m sorry to wake you up,” Julie began.

 

            Bret yawned.  “It’s okay,” he said sleepily.  “What’s up?  Are you okay?”

 

            Julie thought it was cute that he was concerned.  “I’m fine,” she said.  “You just got a phone call, and it sounded important so I thought I’d better wake you up.”

 

            Bret pulled himself into a sitting position.  “Who was it?”

 

            “Marcella,” Julie answered.  “She didn’t leave a message of any kind, she just said that you should call her and that it was important.”

 

            “Did she sound upset?” Bret asked, obviously concerned. 

 

            Julie felt that small twinge of jealousy again.  “I don’t know,” she replied.  “I only talked to her for a minute, then I came to wake you up as soon as we got off the phone.”

 

            Bret reached for the phone on the bedside table and dialed a number quickly.  “Thanks,” he said to Julie.  Then into the receiver he said, “Marcella?  It’s Bret.” 

 

            Julie decided that it was probably best that she give Bret his privacy, and anyway, she didn’t particularly want to hear the conversation.  “I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” she whispered, and left the room.

 

§

 

            By the time Bret came downstairs, showered and fully clothed, nearly an hour later, Sebastian and Julie had gotten into a friendly game of gin at the kitchen table.  Sebastian looked up.  “You’re wearing a shirt,” he noted.

 

            “What’s the occasion?” Julie asked, grinning.

 

            “Actually, I’m going to Sacramento,” Bret answered.

 

            “Marcella,” Sebastian said knowingly.

 

            Bret nodded.  “She sounded really upset on the phone.  I’m just going to head out there today and drive back tomorrow.”

 

            “Is she okay?” Julie asked, although really, she wasn’t terribly interested in knowing.

 

            “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Bret answered.  “I think the break-up is starting to sink in, and she’s just lonely.  I don’t think she’s got that many friends in Sacramento.”

 

            “You’re so noble,” Sebastian said.  Then, to Julie, “Ha!  Gin!”

 

            “You asshole,” Julie replied, sweeping the cards into a pile.  She looked at Bret.  “Well, we’ll try to keep things running without you, but it’s gonna be hard.”

 

            Bret smiled.  “I’m sure you can manage.”  He looked at Sebastian.  “Do I need to worry about your stupid ass?”

 

            Sebastian took the cards from Julie and began to shuffle them.  “Relax, Michaels,” he said.  “I promise I won’t overdose while you’re away.”

 

            “Or get arrested, or—“

 

            “Yeah, yeah.  We’ll be okay here, don’t worry about it.”.

 

            Bret turned to Julie.  “You sure it’s okay with you if I just leave him here with you while I’m gone?”

 

            Julie smiled.  “I think I can handle it.”  She looked at Sebastian.  “You’re housebroken, right?”

 

            “Of course,” he replied, grinning.  “I broke the table, didn’t I?”

 

            Julie threw a pen at him and turned back to Bret.  “Seriously, we’ll be okay.  You’ll only be gone one night, right?”

 

            Bret nodded.  “Yeah,” he said.  “She just sounded really fucked up, and I want to make sure she’s okay.  It’s been a really rough time for her lately.”                      

 

            “Bret Michaels, you’re my hero,” Sebastian said in a singsong voice.

 

            “Are you guys close?” Julie asked, ignoring Sebastian’s comment.

 

            Bret shrugged.  “I guess we’re pretty close,” he replied.  “Although I wish we could have become friends under better circumstances.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “Well, it’s nice that you’re going to take care of her.”  She immediately wished she’d worded that differently, and a moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them.  “Anyway, we’ll really be fine here, so don’t worry about us.  Just take care of whatever you need to take care of.” 

 

            Bret cleared his throat.  “Right,” he said.  “I’ll be back tomorrow.”  He looked as though he might lean down and kiss her or at least hug her, but instead he just turned and left.

 

§

 

            “Want to play again?” Sebastian asked.

 

            Julie threw her cards down on the table.  “We’ve been playing cards for the past nine hours,” she said.

 

            “That’s not true.  We stopped to eat dinner.”

 

            “Okay, nine hours excluding the half hour it took to reheat and consume leftover Chinese food,” Julie corrected herself. 

 

            “I take it that’s a no.”

 

            “Yes.  I mean, yes, that’s a no.”

 

            “Well, what do you want to do instead, then?”

 

            Julie shrugged.  “I have no idea.  Have any suggestions?”

 

            Sebastian grinned at her from across the table.  “Any suggestions on how to make an evening more interesting?  Sure, I’ve got tons of them.”

 

            Julie raised an eyebrow at him.  “I’d rather avoid anything that will leave me in jail, dead, or extremely hungover in the morning.”

 

            “Well, admittedly, that does rule out a good number of my ideas,” Sebastian replied, “but I think I may still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”  He smiled at her.  “Come over here.”

 

            “What for?”

 

            “Just come over here,” he insisted. 

 

            Julie pulled herself out of her chair and made her way around the table to where Sebastian was sitting, not quite sure what to expect.  Sebastian turned his chair so he was facing her.  “Okay, I’m over here,” Julie said.  “Now what?”  Sebastian put his arms around Julie’s waist and pulled her down so she was straddling his lap.  “What are you doing?” she asked him.

 

            “Making the night less dull,” Sebastian replied. 

 

            “Perhaps I should have laid down some further guidelines,” Julie said, but even as she spoke she was leaning down to kiss him.  She kissed him insistently, as though what they were doing was very urgent. 

 

            When the kiss broke, Sebastian looked up at her.  “I don’t know what guidelines we could possibly need,” he said as he peeled his shirt off. 

 

            Julie looked down at his blond hair spilling over his sleek chest and felt a shiver run through her.  She knew that she shouldn’t do this, that she should stop herself, but she also knew that wasn’t going to happen.  Sebastian rose to his feet and lifted her onto the table.  “Did you really think I wouldn’t take advantage of the fact that I have you alone?” he asked breathily, pulling Julie’s shirt over her head.

 

            “I was hoping you would,” Julie admitted.  She leaned forward to kiss Sebastian’s chest, and he made a noise deep in his throat. 

 

            Sebastian took a handful of her hair and tugged, almost enough to really hurt.  “There’s something about the way you touch me,” he said, almost too quietly for her to hear.  He kissed her neck, and Julie moaned as she reached down to unbutton his jeans.

 

§

 

            “That was…” Sebastian began as Julie rolled off of him.

 

            “Yeah,” Julie agreed, cutting him off before he had a chance to finish his thought.  “It was.”

 

            “I think I pulled something important,” he said, sitting up.  “I can’t remember the last time I had sex on a kitchen table.”

 

            “I would think that’s the sort of thing you do all the time.”

 

            “Kitchen tables?  Nah, we’re never at anybody’s house long enough.”

 

            Just then, the front door slammed shut.  “Fuck!” Julie exclaimed, scrambling for her clothes.  She had one leg of her jeans on before Bret walked into the kitchen.

 

            For a long moment, everyone remained still.  Bret’s mouth was partially open as though he was about to speak.  Sebastian had managed to get his pants all the way on, and Julie found herself thinking that under any other circumstances, she’d fall over if she tried to balance herself the way she was right now.  Finally, Bret just said, “Sorry,” and left the room.

 

            Julie finished pulling her jeans on and turned to Sebastian.  “Fuck,” she repeated, almost questioningly.

 

            “I specifically remember him saying that he wasn’t coming home until tomorrow,” Sebastian noted.  Seeing that Julie looked genuinely upset, he said, “Okay, okay, I’ll go talk to him.”  He climbed off the table and headed into the living room.

 

            Bret was sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette, and Sebastian flopped down next to him.  Without addressing him, Bret handed Sebastian a cigarette, which he lit, and they puffed in silence.  Finally, Bret spoke.  “I went out there today because I thought Marcy really needed me.”

 

            “And?”

 

            “Well, when I first got there, everything was cool.  We talked for a while.  She’s looking a lot better, and she’s managed to keep herself from calling Bobby.  Then after dinner, everything just went to shit.”

 

            “How so?”

 

            “Well, apparently she didn’t think it was just a social call,” Bret said.

 

            “Marcy tried to fuck you?”

 

            “Yep.”

 

            “And you turned her down?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“What the hell, Michaels?  That chick is gorgeous.”

 

            “She is,” Bret agreed. 

 

            “You’ve wanted to fuck her since the first time Bobby brought her around!”

 

            “I did.”

 

            “And so now she splits up with Bobby, and tries to get on you, and you say no?”

 

            “You got it.”

 

            “No, I don’t get it.”  He took a long drag on his cigarette.  “Is it because it would fuck things up with the band?”

 

            “Not really.  Things are already pretty damn fucked up with the band.”

 

            “Is it because she’s got herpes?”

 

            “I’m not even going to justify that with a response, Baz.”

 

            They sat for a few moments in silence.  “Is it because of Julie?” Sebastian asked finally.

 

            Bret rose to his feet and began to pace the room.  “I don’t know.  Maybe it is.  I don’t know what the fuck is going on with her.  Or with me where she’s concerned.”

 

            “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get worked up over a girl.”

 

            “Not since high school,” Bret agreed.  “I know I shouldn’t be doing this shit, but… I don’t know.”

 

            “This is dangerous stomping ground, Michaels.”

 

            “No shit.”

 

            Julie poked her head in.  “You guys were really quiet,” she said timidly.  “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t killed each other.”

 

            “Surprisingly enough, we haven’t,” Bret said flatly.

 

            “Why don’t I make us some coffee?” Julie suggested, desperately trying to make things at least slightly less weird.  She went into the kitchen without waiting for a response, and the guys followed her.

 

            “I’m really not sure exactly what to say,” Julie said as she went about making some coffee. 

 

            “Me neither,” Bret agreed.  “Baz?”

 

            Sebastian raised an eyebrow.  “Caffiene’s not a real drug.  I think I’m going to go buy some alcohol.  Don’t you think we need some alcohol?”  Without waiting for a response, he ducked out.

 

            “Doesn’t he realize that liquor stores are closed at this time of night?”

 

            “I’d be happy for the guy if he realized that it was night,” Bret replied.  The doorbell rang, and he looked at Julie quizzically.  “Were you expecting anyone?”

 

            Julie shook her head.  “No one ever shows up here.  It’s probably Sam,” she said.  “I’ll be right back.” 

 

            Julie pulled her hair back behind her shoulders as she crossed the living room, preparing herself to tell Sam once again that she was currently unwelcome.  She tugged the front door open, mouth already open to rip into her friend, and a tall girl with long brown hair pushed her way into the house.  “Where the fuck is he?” she demanded.

 

            “Uh,” Julie said. 

 

            “I said, where the fuck is he?!”

 

            She looked the girl over.  She was a good two inches taller than Julie, with dark curly hair that hung to the middle of her back, and she wasn’t wearing very much.  “Who?” Julie asked.

 

            “Bret.  Where the fuck is Bret?”  The girl’s voice was getting louder.

 

            “Uh,” Julie said again, really not quite sure how to handle such a situation.

 

            “Marcella!” Bret said, coming into the room. 

 

            “Oh,” Julie said.

 

            “What are you doing here?” Bret asked.

 

            “What am I doing here?” Marcella scoffed.  “What the fuck is the deal with that shit you pulled earlier?  You fucking split me and Bobby up—“

 

            “Time out.”  Bret turned to Julie.  “Could you excuse us, just for a little while?”

 

            The last thing Julie wanted to do was to leave Bret alone with this obviously unhappy and potentially unstable woman, and more than that, she really wanted to know exactly what shit Bret had pulled with her earlier.  However, she knew that it was really none of her business.  “Sure,” she said, “I’ll just be in the kitchen.”

 

            “Thank you,” Bret said.

 

            Julie walked out of the room, but found herself stopping in the shadows of the dining room, just close enough to hear whatever conversation Bret and Marcella were having.  She tried to convince herself to keep walking, but her body refused to listen to her and stayed rooted to where it was.

 

            “Marcy,” she heard Bret say, “you know I didn’t break you and Bobby up.  I resent the fact that you’d even say something like that.”

 

            “Fine,” Marcella said, her voice shrill.  “But I don’t get you!  Why the fuck would you drive all the way out there when you don’t want anything to do with me?!”

 

            “It isn’t like that,” Bret said.  “You know I love you.”  Julie bit her lip.

 

            “Then why did you leave?” Marcella demanded.

 

            “I love you as a friend,” Bret said.  “You know that, you know how much you mean to me.  But I couldn’t sleep with you, Marcella.  I can’t.”

 

            “You can’t, or you won’t?”

 

            “I can’t.  You’re a beautiful girl, but I just can’t.”

 

“What the hell is your deal?”

 

“Calm down, Marcella.  I came out there today to see if you were all right, I didn’t come out there to fuck you.”

 

            “Why not?”

 

            Bret was silent for a moment before speaking.  “Marcella, that girl who answered the door… there’s just something about her.  I don’t know what it is.  I haven’t felt this way in a long time, I didn’t even know I could feel this way anymore.  I thought that part of me died a long time ago.”

 

            “What?  You like her?  How can you feel so strongly about some little girl you barely even know?”

 

            “I don’t know.  I can’t explain it.  She’s just… she isn’t like the other chicks I meet, you know?  She doesn’t even know what band I’m in.”

 

            “How is that a good thing?  Does the girl live under a rock?  I never would have gotten anywhere near Bobby if I didn’t know who he was first.”

 

            “That’s the sort of thing that turns Bobby on,” Bret said.  “Girls who want him for what he is, it’s all a power trip with him – in case the fact that he beat the living shit out of you didn’t make that clear enough.  That isn’t what I want.”

 

            “So you really like this girl?”

 

            “Yeah.  I do.”  He paused.  “I don’t think it’s just me, though.”

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

            “I have a feeling that Baz likes her, too,” he replied.  “I mean, with Baz you can never be too sure of these things, but it seems that way.”

 

            “So what are you going to do?”

 

            “I have no idea.  I just know that I really don’t want to fuck this up.”

 

            “You know, Bret, sometimes I think the line between reality and your stage presence is a little blurry.”

 

            Julie heard the front door open, and before waiting to see what happened next, she turned and went back into the kitchen.  She stood there for a moment before taking the back staircase up to her bedroom, where she collapsed onto her bed, her mind racing.  The conversation she had just heard had completely changed everything.  She’d already known that Bret thought of her as more than just another casual conquest, but this was more than she could possibly have imagined.  From what the conversation had sounded like, a gorgeous girl that Bret had known for a long time had basically thrown herself at him, and Bret had turned her down because his feelings for Julie were too strong.  The idea was almost too much to bear.  And what would happen now?  They’d already talked about how it would be next to impossible to maintain any sort of actual relationship, what with Bret being on the road with his band so often.  But now that he’d already inadvertently proven himself able to resist temptation… and what of Sebastian?  She’d just slept with him for the second time only a few hours before.  Things with him were more physical, more animalistic, whereas with Bret they were more emotional. 

 

            “Can I come in?” came Sebastian’s voice from the doorway.  Without waiting for a response, he entered the room.  “Marcella’s down there.  I don’t want any part of that.”  He sat on the edge of the bed.

 

            “I guess he doesn’t, either,” Julie said.

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

            Julie looked at him.  “Can I have a serious talk with you, without you being all… you?”

 

            Sebastian laughed.  “Well, I can try, but I’ve always been me.”

 

            “I listened in on their conversation downstairs,” Julie said. 

 

            “And?”

 

            “And I guess when Bret went to see Marcella, she tried to seduce him.”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “That’s what we were talking about when you decided that we needed coffee.”

 

            “Well, he told her that the reason he couldn’t sleep with her is because he has all kinds of feelings for me and he doesn’t know what to do with them, but he doesn’t want to fuck it up.  Whatever that means.”

 

            “Lightly put, he’s really fucking into you.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I think I’m really into him, too,” she admitted after a minute.

 

            “I guess this means no more sex on your kitchen table.”

 

            “Sebastian, this is serious.”

 

            “I know, I know,” Sebastian said, running a hand through his hair.  “Seriously, you guys were made for each other.  You look gorgeous together and your personalities oddly complement each other.  But this is a crazy idea, and it’s going to be a mess, so don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.”  He paused.  “And you know, if anything goes wrong… anyway, I’m just going to go get Bret.”

 

§

 

            “Hi,” Bret said sheepishly, coming into Julie’s room.

 

            “Hi.”

 

            “Baz said it was important that I get up here.  What’s up?”

 

            “I had a feeling he wouldn’t give you any sort of hint.”

 

            “It would take all the fun out of it for him,” Bret agreed.

 

            Julie motioned for Bret to sit on the bed, which he did.  “Listen,” she began, “I heard you talking to Marcella earlier.”

 

            Bret looked down.  “Oh.”

 

            “And I was thinking about what you said,” she continued.  “Did you really mean everything you said to her, or was that just your way of telling her you weren’t going to sleep with her?”

 

            Bret was quiet for a minute, then looked up at Julie.  “If I just wanted to turn her down, there were easier ways to do it.”

 

            “So you meant it?” Julie repeated, forcing him to answer her.

 

            “Yeah.  I meant it.”  He sighed.   “But that doesn’t mean that I know what I’m talking about.”

 

            “I know,” Julie said. “I don’t know what’s going on in my head either, but I’m pretty sure I feel the same way about you.”

 

            “Do you realize what we’re talking about here, Julie?  We talked about how hard it would be for the two of us to maintain a relationship.”

 

            “Would it be so hard?” Julie asked.  “Or are we just trying to talk ourselves out of something?”

 

            “Maybe we are,” Bret agreed, “but I’d be lying if I said it would be easy.  I’m on the road three quarters of the year.  I mean, I can bring anyone I want on the road with me, but that’s not realistic.  You’d hate it.”

 

            “You’re right, I would, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it sometimes.  You have to make sacrifices.”

 

            Bret nodded.  “But they’d be some major sacrifices.  The road is no fun, especially for someone who doesn’t want to be there.  It gets pretty ugly out there, and you’d spend a lot of time just sitting in a hotel or on the tour bus.”  He sighed.  “And besides, what about when you’re home?  You’re a gorgeous girl, you could get a ton of guys.”

 

            Julie snorted.  “If I was interested in that sort of thing, don’t you think I’d have been out on dates while you guys were here?  Or that I’d have a boyfriend?”

 

            “I guess you have a point,” Bret said.  “But then… why me?”

 

            “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I don’t know why I feel like this anymore than you do.  I just agree with you – that I would regret it if I just ignored the way I felt, and didn’t do anything about any of this.”

 

            “I can’t promise you that this will work,” Bret said.  “I can’t say that this will be easy, or that it’s the right idea, or that I’ll be good at it.  I can’t say that you won’t hate me in six months.”

 

            “I can’t promise any of those things, either.  If people could make those kind of promises, no one would ever break up.”  She was quiet for a minute.  “But why would you want to give up all of those girls you meet when you’re out there, for just one girl you couldn’t be with all the time?”

 

            “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘quality, not quantity’?” Bret asked.  He didn’t wait for a response.  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

            “I think so.  I think it’s the only thing in any of this that I’m even remotely sure of.”

 

            Bret leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her.  “I guess it’s worth a shot,” he said, and kissed her.

 

§

 

            Julie glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath.  Her plane had landed nearly three hours late, and by this point Bret was likely already onstage.  They had planned to meet at the hotel before the show, but now Julie guessed she was going to have to go to the venue and sit through part of the concert.  It wasn’t so much that she minded doing that – Bret’s band had begun to grow on her over the past six months, but she had wanted to see him alone beforehand.

 

            She took a taxi to the hotel and took her time putting her clothes away and getting dressed.  When she had nothing left to do, she took another cab to the venue, some club called the Baltic Room.  With a sigh, Julie paid the driver and walked up the steps to the front door, where she was immediately stopped.  “Show started forty minutes ago,” the guy at the door said gruffly.  “Do you have a ticket?”

 

            Julie was getting tired of this routine.  “I’m on the list,” she told him.  “Julie Kinsington.”

 

            He looked over the list, and upon realizing who she was, his attitude changed.  “Certainly, Miss Kinsington,” he said, stepping aside.  “Just tell the guys inside your name and that you’re here with the band, and they’ll get you whatever you need.”

 

            Julie thanked him and stepped inside the dark, smoky club.  One thing she could be thankful for was that Bret always saw to it that she was treated well at whatever concerts she made it to, if she didn’t arrive with the band.  This venue was nicer than many of the ones she’d been at; it was a smaller, more comfortable atmosphere, with a bar and a restaurant.  She lingered near the back of the room and ordered a daiquiri from a passing waitress.  Once she had her drink, Julie made her way to the front of the club, dropping her name when necessary.  She still wasn’t used to getting her way just because of who she was, and she once again found herself momentarily reeling from everything that had happened.  Sometimes she still couldn’t even believe that she was even dating Bret.

 

            “Do you have a backstage pass?” 

 

            Julie was jarred out of her reverie by a short, balding man who was blocking the entrance to the off-limits area of the club.  Without answering him out loud, she dug around in her purse until she managed to locate her ID, which she handed to him.  “I’m with the singer,” she said then.  The guy looked at her ID and then at his clipboard, nodded, and swung the door open.  Julie forced a smile and slipped past him.

 

            This wasn’t a concert hall or arena, so there were no dressing rooms, just a room with a few couches, a table, and a fridge.  Julie tossed her coat and purse onto one of the couches and flopped down on the other one, then lit a cigarette.  The clock on the wall told her that it was nearly 11:00, and that meant that the band was probably already doing their encore and would be done soon.  If nothing else, that was a slight relief.  She picked up a magazine and idly flipped through it, not really reading anything.

 

            Sure enough, a few minutes later she heard Bret’s muffled voice screaming his thanks to the audience.  She tossed the magazine back on the table and ran a hand through her hair, and a moment later the door flung open. 

           

            “Hey, Jules!”  Rikki, the band’s drummer, grabbed Julie and hugged her.  “I didn’t know if you were gonna make it tonight.”

 

            “My plane got delayed,” Julie explained as the other band members began coming in.  She gave them each a hug.

 

            A moment later, Bret came in, sweaty and looking tired.  He smiled when he saw her and pulled her close to kiss her.  When the kiss broke, he said, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

 

            “I could say the same about you,” Julie agreed.  “Sorry I wasn’t here earlier.  I swear airlines can’t do anything right.”

 

            “It’s okay,” Bret said.  “Get settled in all right?”

 

            Julie nodded.  “I stopped at the hotel and unpacked before I came over here.  I’ve only been here a few minutes.”

 

            “That’s good.  No one gave you any shit, right?”

 

            Julie smiled.  He was always looking out for her.  “Everything was fine,” she said.  “You wanna get out of here?”

 

            Bret sighed.  “Unfortunately, I can’t just yet.  We’ve got to do some kind of bullshit meet and greet in a little while.”

 

            “Don’t they usually do that before the show?”

 

            “You’d think so,” Bret said.  “But hell, if they want us tired and sweaty, who am I to argue?”  He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long drink.  “Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want to stick around for this, although I’m sure there’s quite a few fans out there who would die to get close to you.”  He winked.

 

            She raised an eyebrow.  “No, thank you.  Where do you want to meet?”

 

            Bret thought for a moment.  “There’s a bar about three blocks from here, called the Golden Triangle,” he said.  “I’ll have our driver take you there, if that’s cool.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “That’s fine.  How long do you think you’ll be?”

 

            “I really don’t know,” Bret replied.  “Maybe an hour, hour and a half.”  He leaned in to kiss her again.  “You’ll be okay, right?”

 

            “I think I can handle it.  This isn’t a first for me anymore.”

 

            Bret smiled.  “I know, I know, I just feel bad leaving you out there by yourself.”

 

            “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll see you in a little while.”

 

§

 

            Julie took a seat at the bar and lit a cigarette, then motioned for the bartender.  “Electric lemonade.”

 

            “You got some ID?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “No, I don’t.”

 

            “Then I’m afraid I can’t serve you, miss.”

 

            “It’s been a long night, and I just want a drink.”

 

            “I’m sorry, miss.”

 

            “Give the lady a drink,” came a voice from behind Julie.  She closed her eyes and sighed, prepared to tell whatever mid-forties bachelor had just spoken that she wasn’t there alone.

 

            “Right away, sir,” the bartender said, and went to prepare the drink.

 

            Julie stared after the bartender for a minute, not quite sure what had just happened.  Then she felt a hand on her arm. 

 

            “If it isn’t little miss Julie Kinsington.”

 

            Julie looked up.  “Sebastian!” she cried, jumping to her feet to hug the tall singer.  “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

            “I might ask the same of you,” Sebastian replied, hugging Julie tightly.  The bartender set Julie’s drink in front of her.  “Come on,” Sebastian said, “let’s get a table.”  He led her to a table near the back. 

 

            “So, seriously,” Julie said, sipping her drink.  “What brings you to Seattle?”

 

            “We played a show here last night,” Sebastian replied.  “I just haven’t gotten around to leaving yet.  Your turn.”

 

            “Band’s in town tonight and the next two days.”

 

            “I probably could have figured that out on my own.”

 

            “Probably.  I’m surprised you didn’t already know.”

 

            Sebastian shrugged.  “I’m doing the same thing he’s doing.  We don’t always know what the other one’s up to.”  He took a sip of his drink.  “Speaking of which, what have you guys been up to?  I haven’t heard from Bret in ages, and I haven’t heard from you at all,” he said pointedly.

 

            “Hey,” Julie said, “it’s not as if I knew how to get in touch with you.  You just kind of took off, as I recall.”  Julie took a sip of her drink and thought back to the last night she’d seen Sebastian.  Both he and Bret had been planning to leave the next morning, two days before Julie’s father came home.  They’d been there nearly a month by that point, and had both pushed off business obligations as long as they could.  The plan was that they’d go to breakfast together and say their goodbyes, at least for the time being, but when Bret and Julie had woken up, Sebastian was gone.  They’d been surprised, although in retrospect Julie thought Sebastian had been acting a little odd for the week or so leading up to his sudden departure.

 

            Sebastian cleared his throat.  “Yeah,” he said, obviously not wanting to discuss the matter.  “So what have I missed over the past six months?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “A lot, I guess, but in some ways, not much.”  She lit a cigarette.  “Bret’s been touring almost non-stop, so I’ve been spending a lot of time on planes or on the tour bus – which, I might add, smells like a cross between a bar and a locker room.” 

 

            Sebastian laughed.  “I had a feeling touring with the band wouldn’t exactly be your scene.”

 

            “Admittedly, it isn’t, but I guess we all have to make sacrifices.  Bret was at the house a few times, but never for more than two or three days at a stretch.  He’s running himself pretty ragged.”

 

            “I know the feeling.  Thankfully, this was the last stop on our tour.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “Yeah, only a few more days til Bret’s is over, too, thank god.”

 

            “What happens after that?”

 

            “I’m not sure.  I guess maybe we’ll go home for a while.”  She paused.  “Home being a relative term.”

 

            “I’ll drink to that,” Sebastian said, and did.  After a moment he spoke again.  “How are things with you two?”

 

            “Good,” she replied.  “I mean, as good as things can be, given our lifestyle.”

 

            “I have to admit, I didn’t think you guys would get to six months.  Well, I didn’t think he would get to six months.”

 

            “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Julie said, laughing.  She pushed aside the thought that Sebastian didn’t seem to be joking.  “I know what you mean, though.  There are times that neither one of us is sure that what we’re doing is possible, but somehow we just keep doing it.”

 

            “Well… good for you guys,” Sebastian said.

 

            “Yeah.  What about you?  Any lucky ladies?”

 

            “Every night,” Sebastian replied, grinning.  “If you mean anything longterm, no.  Who has the time?”  He paused.  “Well, I mean… I don’t have the stamina Bret has, I guess.”

 

            “I don’t think Bret has the stamina Bret has,” Julie said.

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, like I said, he’s just been running himself ragged.  Between touring and recording and our relationship, he just never has any time to relax.  He’s tired and sick all the time.”  She took a sip of her drink.  “He’s just not taking care of himself like he should be.”

 

            “I don’t think Bret has ever taken care of himself the way he should,” Sebastian said.  “He’s always managed to get by, though.”

 

            “I know,” Julie said.  “I’m just worried about him.  There’s only so much one man can handle.”

 

            “You’d be surprised.”

 

            “I am surprised.  I’m not even in the band and I can barely handle everything.”

 

            “You get used to it after a while,” Sebastian said.  “Although I don’t know if I’d be able to stand it if I wasn’t out there on stage and getting paid for it.”  He paused.  “Seriously, though, try not to worry too much about it.  Bret always comes out on the other side.”

 

            “The other side of what?” Bret said, walking up to the table.  Without waiting for a response, he continued.  “Baz, you asshole!  What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

            Sebastian rose to his feet and they hugged.  “Someone told me there was a hot chick at this bar,” he responded, grinning.

 

            “And here I am,” Bret said, laughing.  He ordered a drink from a passing waitress and they sat down.  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said to Julie, leaning over to give her a quick kiss before turning his attention back to Sebastian.  “I take it you played here.”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “Yeah, last night.  Last stop on the tour.  I guess you have what, two more shows?”

 

            The waitress set Bret’s drink in front of him and he took a long swallow.  “Yep.  I have to admit, though it’s been fun, I’m glad this tour is finally winding down.  Three months is a hell of a long time to be on the road.”

 

            Sebastian snorted.  “What the fuck is that attitude?  You love this shit!”

 

            “I do,” Bret agreed, “but I’m tired.  Got other things to focus on.”

 

            “I knew this girl was going to turn you into a fucking pussy.”

 

            “Hey,” Julie admonished lightly.  “This whole mess isn’t my fault.”

 

            “You’re right,” Sebastian said.  “I suppose technically you owe all of this to Bobby.”

 

            Bret laughed.  “You know, I never thought I’d be thankful that Bobby was such a violent asshole.”  He took another sip of his drink.  “So, how long are you going to be in town?”

 

            Sebastian shrugged.  “I don’t know, a few days, I guess.  The guys wanted to hit the town.  What about you?  Sticking around after the shows?”

 

            “Nah, we’re out of here Monday morning.  I’ve seen enough of this place.”

 

            “I take it you two are heading back to San Francisco?”

 

            Bret nodded.  “Yeah, we usually stay at Julie’s dad’s house when we’re not on the road.”

 

            Sebastian looked at Julie. “Speaking of your father, he must love that you’re dating Bret.”

 

            Julie laughed.  “Well, at first, he really wasn’t happy.  I mean, the man knows the kind of shit you guys do.  He’s pretty used to the idea now, though.”

 

            “I don’t think I’d let my daughter date one of us,” Sebastian said.

 

            “Fuck no,” Bret agreed, and finished his drink.

 

            Sebastian finished his as well.  “Why don’t we go back to my hotel and do some more catching up?” he suggested.

 

            Bret yawned.  “I’m actually kind of tired,” he said.  “If it’s okay with Julie, I’d kind of like to just get back to our hotel and get some sleep.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “I’m rather worn out from the trip myself.”  She put her cigarette out.  “But you’ll be in town for a couple of days, right, Sebastian?”

 

            Sebastian cleared his throat and nodded.  “Yeah, at least.”

 

            “Well, I probably won’t be going to both of Bret’s shows.  Why don’t you give me the number for your hotel and I’ll give you a call?”

 

            “Yeah,” Bret said, “and maybe we’ll get a chance to all get together before we head back to California.”

 

            “Okay,” Sebastian said.  He asked one of the waitresses for a pen and scribbled his number on a napkin, which he handed to Julie.  “I’d really like to see you guys again before you go back,” he said, his eyes fixed on Julie.

 

            “Definitely,” Bret said, “and if not, you’re always welcome to come see us back at home.”

 

            “Sure,” Julie agreed, and rose to her feet.  The guys followed her lead.

 

            Julie and Bret each gave Sebastian a hug.  “Give me a call tomorrow or whatever,” Sebastian said.  Then he turned to Bret.  “Don’t work too hard, man, all right?”

 

            Bret nodded.  “Sure, you, too.  It was good seeing you again.”

 

§

 

            Once they were back at the hotel, Bret immediately grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the refrigerator and took a deep swallow.  Julie frowned.  “I see the bottle’s still your  best friend on the road.”

 

            Bret sat down on the edge of the bed.  “Better Mr. Daniels than Miss Loose Groupie, don’t you agree?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I just wish you were taking better care of yourself, that’s all.”

 

            “I’m fine,” Bret said, taking another drink from the bottle.  “Don’t worry about me.  I’ve been doing this for years.”

 

            “And I’d like you to be able to keep doing this for years,” Julie retorted, and kissed him lightly on the neck.

 

            Bret smiled.  “I intend to,” he said.

 

            Julie flopped onto the bed.  “Seriously, love, are you doing all right?  You seem so tired every time I see you.”

 

            “I am tired every time you see me,” Bret agreed.  “I’m not exactly in a relaxing business.”

 

            “I know.  I just worry about you.  Have you been taking care of yourself?”

 

            “As best I can,” Bret assured her. 

 

            “I suppose I can’t ask for anything other than that.”  She sighed.  “You know how I am.  It drives me insane when I’m not around to make sure you’re behaving yourself.”

 

            Bret laughed.  “You make the rules pretty stiff, but I’ve been following them, for the most part.”

 

            “For the most part?”

 

            “Yeah.  I’ve only had sex with maybe five groupies this entire tour.”

 

            Julie smacked him in the back of the head.  “Real nice, Bret.”

 

            He laughed.  “You know I’m only kidding.” 

 

            Julie yawned.  “Think you’re tired enough to go to bed?”

 

            “Maybe,” Bret said, grinning at her.

 

            “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?  Did you have something else in mind?”

 

            Bret’s grin widened.  “Of course I did,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

 

            Julie kissed him.  “Oh, so is that what you meant when you told Sebastian you were too tired to hang out?”

 

            “Hey, I love the guy, but I’d rather go to bed with you,” Bret said as he pulled Julie’s shirt over her head.

           

            “I suppose I can forgive you for that,” she said, closing her eyes.

 

§

 

            Julie flipped off the television and sighed.  It had been over a month since she’d last met up with Bret during a tour, and she’d forgotten how painfully boring it could be to be stuck in a hotel room alone.  She’d spent the morning and afternoon with Bret, mostly in bed, but eventually he had to go get ready for his show, and Julie had decided not to go to this one.  At least at this point, she thought, they’d been together long enough that she didn’t feel obligated to go watch every single concert.  At first, she’d gone to every show she could get to, but after a while they’d both agreed that it wasn’t necessary.  Not only did she know every single one of their songs by heart, but a lot of the male fans kept a close on eye on her, and she didn’t like the publicity as much as the band did.  She still found it impossibly weird to occasionally see her face in magazines.  Still, though, she tried to make it out to see him whenever possible.  They saw each other as often as they could, but it was rare that Bret had the time to come to see her, so she found herself traveling all over the place.  Mostly she just saw his shows on the West coast, but she’d been all over the country, and had even gone with him to tour Europe.  Sometimes she had no idea how he managed to do it all.

 

            Then there were nights like tonight, alone in a hotel room, when Julie was so bored she couldn’t stand it.  She wasn’t the type of person to hit the town by herself, and anyway, Bret wouldn’t have it.  Julie Kinsington was becoming a relatively well-known name, and people would likely recognize her, especially in a town where the band was playing. 

 

            Suddenly, Julie remembered that Sebastian had given her the phone number to his hotel the previous night.  She rummaged around in her purse until she found the napkin, and dialed.  After a few rings, Sebastian picked up. 

 

            “Sebastian?  It’s Julie.”

 

            “Hey, babe,” he replied.  “What’s going on?”

 

            “Absolutely nothing.”

 

            “Shouldn’t you be watching the show by now?”

 

            “Nah, I’m not going.  I’ll catch the one tomorrow night.  What are you doing?”

 

            “Honestly?  Drinking and watching the free porn on the hotel TV.”

 

            Julie laughed.  “Sounds like a busy night.”

 

            “That depends on your definition of ‘busy’, I guess,” Sebastian said.  “So, to what do I owe the honor of your phone call?”

 

            “Well, I was going to see if you wanted to do something,” Julie said, “but if you’d rather stay there with your naked women…”

 

            Sebastian laughed.  “Jules, even if they were real naked women, I’d still ditch them to come see you.  What hotel are you staying at?”

           

            “Hotel Vintage Park, room 22.  You know where it is?”

 

            “Yeah, I’m only a few miles from there.  How about I head over there and then maybe we can get something to eat or whatever?”

 

            “That sounds good,” Julie said.  “I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes then.”

 

            “Yep,” Sebastian said and hung up.

 

            Julie put the phone back in its cradle and sat for a moment, trying to decide exactly what to wear for a dinner date with Sebastian.  It occurred to her that maybe she should have asked what type of place he had in mind, but she decided that with Sebastian, they probably wouldn’t be going anywhere black-tie.  She rose to her feet, walked to the dresser and rummaged through the drawers.  After a few minutes, she decided on a dark red tanktop and black jeans.  Only after looking at her reflection in the mirror did she realize it was the same outfit she’d worn the night she’d first slept with Sebastian. 

 

            Julie pushed the idea from her head and went into the bathroom, where she brushed her hair and began to apply makeup.  Halfway through putting on eyeliner, the phone rang loudly, causing her to jump.  She pressed the speakerphone button and said, “Yes?”

 

            “Yes, ma’am, there’s a Mr. Bach downstairs who would like to see you.”

 

            “Send him up,” Julie instructed the woman on the phone.

 

            “Certainly, ma’am.”  The line went dead and Julie went back to applying her makeup.

 

            A moment later, she heard the door to the room open.  “Jules?”

 

            “I’m in the bathroom,” Julie called out.  “Come on in, I’m decent.”

 

            Sebastian came to the door and leaned against the frame.  “Too bad,” he said, grinning.

 

            Julie made a ‘tsk’ noise at him.  “I’ll just be a minute,” she said.  “Help yourself to a drink.”

 

            “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

 

            Julie finished putting her mascara on and came out of the bathroom.  Sebastian was standing by the bar with a glass of vodka in his hand, and for a moment, they just looked at each other.  The light in the bar the night before had been dim, and Julie hadn’t gotten a good look at him.  She’d forgotten how intense Sebastian looked.  He was incredibly tall and lean, and the tight leather pants he had on only served to seemingly lengthen his long legs.  His hair, now a lighter shade of blond than it had been, had grown and cascaded down over his shoulders.  Julie found herself thinking of jungle cats for the first time in ages.  She also couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at her; his blue eyes were piercing and the word ‘thirsty’ came to her mind. 

 

            Julie bit the inside of her cheek hard and forced herself to stop staring.  “Still going straight for the Absolut, I see,” she said lamely.

 

            Sebastian smiled.  “Nothing but the best for us rock stars.”  He put the glass down and crossed the room.  “It’s really good to see you.”  He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

 

            For a moment, Julie closed her eyes and let Sebastian hold her.  She pressed her face into his chest and breathed in the scent of his hair, a smell that she had never quite forgotten.  Smoke, shampoo, and boy.  After six months of dealing with sold-out arenas and paparazzi, and worrying about Bret’s health, it felt good to collapse against Sebastian.  For just a few seconds, his strong embrace made her forget about everything that had happened, and made everything seem okay.  “I missed you,” she said into his shirt.

 

            Sebastian put a hand on the back of Julie’s head.  “You, too, kid,” he said softly.

 

            Julie found herself not quite sure what she was feeling.  Being here with Sebastian gave her an odd sense of coming home.  It took her a minute to get up the nerve to ask the question that had been tugging at the back of her mind for months.  “Sebastian,” she said quietly, “why did you leave?”

 

            Sebastian stiffened and pulled away from Julie.  He ran a hand through his hair.  “You know how it is,” he said after a minute.

 

            Julie looked at the floor.  “Actually, I don’t.”

 

            Sebastian sighed.  “Julie, we don’t need to talk about this.”

 

            Julie sat on the edge of the bed.  “Why don’t we need to talk about it?”

 

            “Because we all have enough shit to deal with, don’t you think?”  He lit a cigarette.

 

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julie said, confused.  “I mean, yes, there’s a lot of shit to deal with, but…”  She trailed off. 

 

            “Look,” Sebastian said, “I just had to go.  You know?”

 

            “No, Sebastian, I really don’t,” Julie insisted.  “We woke up to go to breakfast with you and you had just taken off in the middle of the night!  I have no idea what went through your head.”

 

            “Fuck, Jules, how often do you think I know what goes through my head?  I mean, besides a few bottles of Jack Daniels and an eightball or two.”

 

            “This may come as a surprise to you,” Julie said, “but for the past six months, I’ve been wondering what the hell I did to you that would make you just run off like that.”

 

            Sebastian looked down at her.  “Do you really think that?  That you did something to make me leave?”

 

            “Didn’t I?”

 

            “No!” Sebastian said emphatically.  “Christ, Jules, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

            “Then what?”

 

            Sebastian was clearly frustrated.  “Sometimes, you just have to leave, Julie, sometimes…”

 

            “Sometimes what?”  Julie was beginning to get frustrated herself.

 

            “Sometimes you just can’t stay in a situation!”

 

            “Why not?”

 

            “Fucking Christ, Julie!  Don’t you get it?  I had to leave!  There wasn’t room, even in that monstrous fucking house of yours, for two men who were in love with you!”

 

            Julie felt as though someone had just punched her in the stomach.  Of all the things she might have imagined Sebastian would say, what he’d actually said hadn’t even crossed her mind.  “What?” she said after a minute.

 

            “Fuck,” Sebastian said.  “You heard me.”

 

            “You… you’re…” Julie tripped over the words.  “You left because…”

 

            “Because I’m fucking in love with you, yes,” Sebastian said.  “And you and Bret were just so fucking happy… anyone else and I would have done something anyway, but I hadn’t seen him that happy in god knows how long.  And you, I couldn’t make things hard on you.”

 

            “You didn’t think that just running off in the middle of the night would be hard on me?”

 

            “Not nearly so hard as being faced with how I felt.  I didn’t want to hurt you, Julie, I still don’t.”

 

            “I never thought I’d hear you talk like this,” Julie said.  “I mean, you always seemed…”

 

            “What, like such an asshole?” Sebastian snorted.  “I am.  I figured you two couldn’t possibly last,” he admitted.  “I thought if I just let him run with whatever the fuck he was doing that it would eventually die.”  He was quiet for a minute.  “I guess I didn’t consider the fact that Bret wouldn’t be able to get over you any more than I would be.”

 

            Julie blinked.  “I had no idea,” she said weakly.

 

            “Of course you didn’t.  I didn’t want you to know.  Fuck, I had no intention of ever letting you know.”

 

            “But now I do.”  She had no idea what else to say.

 

            “Now you do,” Sebastian agreed.  Julie looked up at him and their eyes met.  He held her gaze for a moment, and then in one swift motion he was on top of her, pushing her back on the bed, pressing his lips against hers.  Her stomach felt like it was tied in a knot, and Julie found herself succumbing to his insistent kisses.  The taste of his mouth brought back a flood of memories and old feelings that she didn’t even realize she’d had.  More than anything, at that moment, she wanted to just surrender to Sebastian.

 

            With all of her self-restraint, Julie pushed him off of her. “Sebastian, I can’t fucking believe you.”  Sebastian looked at her for a moment, then leaned down to kiss her again.  Unsure of what else to do, Julie pulled back and slapped him across his cheek with all of her strength. 

 

            Sebastian stood up and took a few steps backward, his eyes wide.  “You just fucking slapped me,” he said, incredulous.

 

            “I’m sure I’m not the first.”

 

            “You’re the first one that mattered.”

 

            “What do you want me to say, Sebastian?”

 

            “I don’t fucking know!  You made me tell you—“

 

            “I had no fucking idea what you were going to tell me.  I wasn’t prepared for this.”

 

            “Well, neither was I.”

 

            Julie took a breath.  “Sebastian, listen, Bret and I—“

 

            “Yeah, you and Bret.  You and fucking Bret.  You and Bret are so fucking happy, and—“

 

            “Yes, Sebastian, we are happy,” Julie said, although for some reason a voice in her head scolded her for saying it.  “I don’t know what else to say to you.”

 

            “How about that you’re sorry for hitting me?”

 

            Julie stood up.  “Sebastian,” she began, and had to force herself to continue.  “I think you’d better leave now.”

 

            Sebastian just stood where he was for a minute, looking shocked.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, then turned and stormed out as the first hot tears began to spill down Julie’s cheeks.  She collapsed onto the bed and buried her face in a pillow.

 

            Julie woke up to Bret gently shaking her.  “Sweetheart,” he said softly.  “What’s wrong?”

 

            She pulled back for a minute, startled.  “Bret,” she said, and an image of Sebastian’s form leaving the room hurriedly flashed through her mind.

 

            Bret pulled her against him.  “You’ve been crying,” he said. “Are you okay?”

 

            Julie let herself relax against him and buried her face in his hair.  For a while, she didn’t respond, and just let him hold her.  “I am now,” she said finally, although she wasn’t entirely sure she meant it. 

 

            “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

            “It’s nothing,” Julie said, knowing she couldn’t possibly tell him what had happened.  “Can we just go to sleep?  I just want you to hold me.”

 

            “Of course,” Bret said, stroking her hair.  He moved to lay on his back, and Julie laid her head on his chest, blinking back fresh tears before she drifted back to sleep.

 

§

 

            Julie woke for the second time when she felt Bret stirring beneath her and opened her eyes, but didn’t move.  She immediately noticed that Bret was sweaty and warm.  “Bret,” she said gently, not sure if he was awake.

 

            “I’m sorry, honey,” he said.  “Did I wake you?”

 

            “It’s okay,” Julie said, sitting up.  “Are you okay?  You look a little pale.”

 

            “I’m all right,” Bret assured her.  “My stomach’s just a little funny.”

 

            “You’re awfully warm.”

 

            “I’m okay.  I must have eaten something bad last night or something.”

 

            “Can I get you anything?  A drink?”

 

            “Yeah, sure,” Bret said.  “Just some water would be fine.”

 

            Julie climbed out of bed, stretched, and realized she was still in last night’s clothes.  She got a bottle of water out of the fridge and poured it into a glass, which she handed to Bret.  “I’m just going to take a shower and get changed,” she told him.

 

            “Okay,” he said, sitting up and taking a tentative sip of water.

 

            Julie looked at him for a minute.  He was awfully pale.  “If you need me, just yell.”

 

            “I’ll be okay.”

 

            Julie grabbed some clothes, then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.  For a few long minutes she just stood and contemplated her reflection in the mirror, thinking about the night before.  She still found herself unable to register much of anything beyond surprise and confusion.  Not only had she never expected Sebastian to say such things to her, she’d never expected Sebastian to say such things at all.  It just wasn’t in his nature, or so she’d thought; she thought of Bret and Sebastian as the living embodiment of ‘opposites attract’.  They were like night and day.  They were indeed two of the most beautiful creatures she’d ever encountered, but she had always thought that Sebastian was made mostly of anger and lust, whereas Bret was deeper and more caring.  Hearing someone like Sebastian confess that he was in love with her made Julie’s brain hurt.  Moreover, she couldn’t figure out why she was even thinking about it.  After six months of being very happy, for the most part, with Bret, Julie didn’t think anything anyone could say could make her second-guess any of it – let alone Sebastian, the drunk, violent maniac she’d slept with twice.  And yet she found herself playing the previous night’s scene over and over again in her mind, especially the part where she’d allowed him to kiss her.  Just thinking about it made her stomach swirl, and Julie couldn’t quite figure out why.

 

            With a sigh, Julie started the water and slowly undressed.  Mechanically, she went through the motions of showering, still trying to push thoughts of Sebastian out of her mind.  Even if she did figure out what the hell about him made her think about him so much, it didn’t matter; she was with Bret, and had been for a long time now.  Part of her wanted to tell Bret what had happened, but the rest of her knew that could only end badly.  He had enough on his mind, anyway, and his temper could be just as combustible as Sebastian’s.  The two of them would likely kill each other.  Besides, Bret wasn’t looking too well this morning, and the image of his pale face was enough to make Julie push Sebastian fully out of her mind, at least for the time being. 

 

            She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself off, listening to try to figure out if Bret had gotten up.  She didn’t hear anything, and put her clothes on in a rush, then hurried into the bedroom.  Bret had thrown the covers off of himself and was sitting at the edge of the bed.  He had taken off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.  “How are you feeling?” Julie asked as she continued to dry her hair.

 

            Bret shrugged.  “I’ve felt better,” he admitted. 

 

            “Do you want me to call Dr. McKay?”  Brandon McKay was Bret’s personal physician, and someone that Julie had gotten to know pretty well.  It was comforting to know that even when they were far from home, he was always just a phone call away. 

 

            “Nah,” Bret said, shrugging the idea off.  “I’m sure it’s just something I ate last night, or some kind of stomach bug.  Don’t worry about it.”

 

            Julie crossed the room and pressed her hand to Bret’s forehead.  “I think you might have a fever,” she said, and rummaged around in her purse.  “Why don’t you take some Tylenol?”

 

            “If me taking Tylenol will make you feel better, then I’ll take it,” Bret said, smiling a little.

 

            Julie handed him the bottle.  “Well, my goal is for it to make you feel better.”

 

            Bret shook a few of the pills into his palm and swallowed them dry.  “Don’t get your hopes up,” he said.  “We’re used to having things a little stronger than Tylenol when we’re on the road.”

 

            “If you’re talking about liquor, I don’t think that would help your stomach condition,” Julie said, brushing her hair, “and if you’re talking about anything else, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t hear you.”

 

            Bret chuckled and took a deep swallow from the glass of water Julie had given him a little while ago.  “You’re surprisingly prim and proper for the girlfriend of a metal singer,” he noted.

 

            Julie snorted.  “Just because I’ve never mainlined smack does not mean I am prim and proper,” she replied.  “If I was even a little bit prim or proper, I would not be spending my time in a hotel room with you.”

 

            “Touché.” 

 

            Julie finished brushing her hair and began to pull it into a braid.  “So, what’s on the schedule for today?”  Bret didn’t answer her and she turned.  “Bret?”

 

            Bret remained still for a moment and then said, “Shit.” 

 

            “What’s wrong?”

 

            “Nothing,” Bret said.  “I’ll be fine.”  He got up and went into the bathroom. 

 

A moment later, Julie heard retching noises from behind the closed door.  “Fuck,” she said to herself, hoping he wasn’t coming down with anything serious.  She heard the water in the bathroom turn on, then off, and Bret came out.  “Feel any better?”

 

“Yeah,” he said.  “I’m sure I’ll be okay now.”  He looked at Julie and seemed to notice that she looked unconvinced.  “Honey, you know how we eat when we’re on the road.  Lord knows what I could have ingested last night.”

 

            Julie frowned.  “You’ve just been running yourself so ragged lately,” she said.  “You need to slow down a little.”

 

            “I know,” Bret said. “I’ve only got two more shows left, and then we can go back to your house and I can relax for a while.”

 

            “You’ve been doing too many damn shows lately, that’s the problem.  They’re working you too hard.”

 

            “Jule, this is nothing compared to some of the tours our first year.”

 

            “You were four years younger and on a lot of coke back then.”

 

            Bret sighed.  “Sweetheart, I’ll be okay.  I promise.  Stop worrying so much.”

 

            “I’m a woman.  Worrying is one of our specialties.”

 

            “So I’ve noticed.  Do you want to go downstairs for a late breakfast?”

 

            Julie eyed him.  “Do you think that’s such a good idea?”

 

            Bret shrugged.  “Sure, I’m fine.  I got whatever was making me sick out of my system.”  He didn’t sound terribly sure of himself.

 

            Julie wasn’t quite sure how to respond.  She knew that it probably wasn’t a very good idea, but Bret was as stubborn as a mule, and if she said no, he’d likely end up doing it, anyway.  “If you’re sure you feel up to it,” she said finally.

 

            “I’m sure.  Just let me change my clothes.”

 

§

 

            “I’ll have the eggs Florentine,” Julie said to the waiter.  “And a cup of decaf, please.”

 

            “Certainly,” he replied, scribbling it down.  He turned to Bret.  “And for you, sir?”

 

            “I’ll try the blueberry-stuffed French toast.”

 

            “And to drink?”

 

            “Coffee’s fine.”

           

            “Thank you.  That’ll be ready in just a few minutes,” the waiter said, and left.

 

            “Blueberry-stuffed French toast?” Julie questioned.

 

            Bret shrugged.  “I like blueberries.”

 

            “I do, too, but don’t you think that’s a little heavy on your stomach?”

 

            “Jule, my stomach’s fine.  It’s all empty now, and I’m going to feed it.” 

 

            “Whatever you say.”  The waiter came back with their coffee and for a moment, there was silence while they added their respective cream and sugar. 

 

            “Are you coming to the show tonight?” Bret asked.

 

            “Yeah,” Julie said.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

            “I don’t know.  I thought maybe you’d want to spend some time with Baz.”

 

            Julie swallowed hard in an effort to not spit coffee all over the table.  “It’s the last show on the tour.”

 

            “It’s not as if you haven’t seen us live before.”

 

            “Don’t you want me there?”

           

            “Sure, I do.  I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there, if you wanted to do something else.”

 

            “I know I don’t have to go,” Julie said.  “But I want to.  Really.”  In reality, Julie didn’t particularly care to spend her evening in a smoky, packed club watching the band play.  She much preferred their arena shows, and even then, it got tired.  However, she couldn’t tell the truth this time.

 

            Bret smiled.  “Well, good,” he said.  “It’s always nice to know that my number one fan is in the audience.”

 

            Julie smiled back.  “Just don’t tell all of your other number one fans.”

 

            The waiter came back and placed their food in front of them.  “If you need anything else, just let me know,” he said, and left.

 

            “Jesus,” Julie said.  “I’ll never finish all of this.”

 

            “Oh, I know,” Bret said.  “This French toast is going to go straight to my hips.”

 

            “Because this is a high-class establishment, I will not throw an egg at you,” Julie said, taking a bite of her food.

 

            “High-class, bah,” Bret replied.  “You just know that if you threw an egg at me, you’d have a hell of a time getting syrup out of all that hair of yours.”

 

            “This, coming from Mr. Crew-cut over there,” Julie scoffed.

 

            “Oh, shut up and eat your damn food.”

 

            The meal continued in silence.  When Julie had finished about half of her meal, she put her fork down.  “Okay, that’s it.  I’m going to bust in half if I eat any more of this.”  She looked up at Bret, who had eaten about a fourth of his French toast and had gone pale again.  “Love?  Are you all right?”

 

            “I’m not sure,” Bret admitted.

 

            “What’s wrong?”

 

            “I think I’m going to be sick again,” Bret said in a low voice.  “Listen, meet me up in the room, okay?”  He stood up.

 

            Julie stood as well.  “What?  Where are you going?”

 

            “Just meet me upstairs,” Bret said again, more urgently, then he turned and walked quickly away.

 

§

 

            Julie sat in a chair in the hotel room with her knees up for nearly fifteen minutes before the door open and Bret came in.  He looked even more pale and sweaty than he had earlier.  “Honey,” Julie said, then faltered, not sure what to say next.

 

            Bret walked into the bathroom and grabbed a toothbrush.  “Sorry about that,” he said, putting toothpaste on the brush.  “I wouldn’t have made it back up to the room in time.”  He began to brush his teeth.

 

            “It’s okay,” Julie said.  “I didn’t think breakfast was a good idea.”  She immediately felt like she was saying ‘I told you so’.  “I’m sorry.  That might have come out wrong.”

            Bret spit the excess toothpaste in the sink and rinsed his mouth.  “No, it’s okay,” he said, coming out of the bathroom.  “You were right.  I guess I have some kind of stomach bug.”

 

            “Do you think maybe you should cancel the show for tonight?”

 

            “Are you kidding?  I don’t even want to think about the chaos that would ensue if I pulled a move like that.”

 

            “Well, Bret, if you’re sick—“

 

            “I’m not sick enough to cancel a show,” he interjected.  “I’d have to lose a limb or slip into a coma.  The stomach flu is not a reason to turn away hundreds of people.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “Fine.  You should at least sleep for a while.”

 

            “I can’t,” Bret said.  “I have a rehearsal this afternoon.”

 

            “Jesus, Bret, you can’t run around all day today.  You’re sick, and you’re just going to make yourself worse.  Can’t you at least skip the rehearsal?  It’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing!”  Julie looked at him pleadingly.

 

            Bret sighed.  “Would it make you feel better?”

 

            “Yes!”

 

            “Okay, fine.  I’m going to take a shower.  Can you go tell the guys that I’ll just meet them before the show?”

 

            Julie nodded.  “Sure,” she said.  “They’re upstairs, in room 36, right?”

 

            “Yeah.  If they give you any shit about it, just tell them you’re only the messenger.”

 

            “Right.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

            Julie left the room and took the elevator to the third floor of the hotel, and walked down the hall until she found room 36.  She knocked loudly on the door, knowing that the likelihood of the guys being awake was pretty slim.  After a few minutes, a sleepy-sounding voice yelled something unintelligible.  “It’s Julie,” she called back.  “Open the door.”

 

            A minute later, the door swung open and a disheveled Rikki greeted her.  “Hey, dollface,” he said sleepily.  “Come on in.”

 

            Julie stepped into the hotel room and looked around.  As usual, they’d completely trashed the place.  Bobby was crashed out on the floor, and she didn’t see C.C. anywhere.  There were empty alcohol bottles and pizza boxes everywhere.  “This is a four-star hotel,” Julie said.  “Haven’t you heard of room service?”

 

            Rikki grinned.  “Who needs all that stuffy expensive bullshit food?  Pizza and Jack Daniels.”

 

            Julie shook her head.  “Whatever makes you happy.  Where’s your guitarist?”

 

            “You got a cigarette?” Julie handed him one and Rikki lit it and laughed.  “C.C.’s in the bedroom, passed out under two blondes,” he said.  “Twins!”

 

            “Bret has amazing self-restraint,” Julie noted.

 

            “Where is he, anyway?  It’s not like you to brave our room by yourself.”

 

            “Well, he said if you guys got anything gross on me, he’d kick you in the head.”  She paused.  “Seriously, though, I’m here to deliver a message.”

 

            “Does this have anything to do with that black-haired chick at the show last night?”

 

            Julie looked at him for a minute.  “I’m not even going to question that,” she said.  “No.  Bret’s not going to be able to do rehearsal today.”

 

            “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be sure it had something to do with that black-haired chick,” Rikki replied.  “What’s his deal?  You two want to spend some quality time?”  He winked.

 

            “I wish.  More like Bret’s going to be spending some quality time with some pillows and perhaps the toilet.”

 

            “Sounds like a wicked hangover.”  Rikki paused.  “But hell, we partied harder than he did last night.”

 

            “Actually, he’s got some kind of stomach flu or something,” Julie said.  “He’s been sick all morning.”

 

            “Sucks,” Rikki noted.  “He gonna be okay for tonight?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I’d say the answer to that is pretty irrelevant.  You know Bret – whether he’s really okay or not, he’ll be on that stage tonight.  I have a feeling those crazy fans of yours wouldn’t mind a bit if he puked all over the front row.”

 

            “Are you kidding?  Some of those girls would never wash themselves again if any of Bret’s bodily fluids landed on them.”

 

            “That’s disgusting.”

 

            “Agreed, but it’s a sick world.”

 

            “Anyway, I should really get back down there and make sure he’s okay.  Can you tell Bobby and C.C. what’s up, if they ever come back to the land of the living?”

 

            “Sure, babe,” Rikki said.  “Tell Bret to let us know if he needs anything, although he’s already got a gorgeous nurse to take care of him.”  He grinned.

 

            “I love it when you stroke my ego, Rikki,” Julie said, and left.  She took the elevator back down, and found Bret sitting in bed, flipping channels.

 

 “How’d they take it?” he asked immediately.

 

            “They’re not even awake yet.  I don’t know how Bobby can sleep in the positions he sleeps in.”

 

            “They don’t sleep.  They black out.  Who’d you talk to?”

 

            “Rikki,” Julie answered.  “He told me C.C.’s unconscious with some twins.  He said if you needed anything to let them know, although considering the fact that they seem to have their hands full just trying to take care of themselves…” She trailed off.

 

            “So I guess he wasn’t pissed.”

 

            “I’m sure he’s relieved that he can take his hangover back to bed for the day.  More importantly, though, how are you feeling?”

 

            “Mostly like an idiot for eating French toast on a sick stomach,” Bret replied.  “But I’ve got me a can of soda, and if a certain beautiful woman would spend the afternoon laying in bed with me, I think I’ll be all right.  That is, of course, unless you’re afraid of catching whatever I’ve got.”

 

            Julie smiled.  “I think I’ll take the risk.”  She crawled onto the bed.  “Anything good on?”

 

            “Daytime television?  What do you think?”  He turned the TV off.  “Come here.”

 

            Julie crawled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder.  “Would it be wrong of me to say that even under such shitty circumstances, I’m glad to get to spend the day with you?”  Somehow, Bret’s frailty made all thoughts of the night before vanish, and Julie found herself madly in love with him all over again.

 

            Bret squeezed her shoulder.  “Nah, wouldn’t be too wrong.”  He grabbed his soda from the bedside table and took a sip.  Then he stretched out and closed his eyes.

 

            Julie felt his forehead.  “That Tylenol doesn’t seem to have touched your fever,” she noted.

 

            “I’m sure it’ll go down if I just sleep for a little while,” Bret said.  “Relax, babe.  It’s just a stomach virus.”

 

            “I know,” she said.  “Just get some rest.  Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

§

 

            Julie gave up trying to sleep and sat up.  Bret was awake and looking like hell.   Over the past several hours, he had tossed and turned in a fitful sleep, getting up to vomit every half hour or so.  Julie made sure he was drinking soda – they’d switched to diet after the first few vomiting episodes – but he wasn’t able to keep it down. 

 

            “I’m gonna puke again,” Bret said.  His voice was weak, and the sound of it made Julie’s stomach tense up. 

 

            “Do you need some help getting to the bathroom?”

 

            Bret pulled himself shakily to his feet, and swayed a little.  “I hate to ask,” he said.  He didn’t look at her.  Julie knew this must be killing him; Bret had always been very self-sufficient and didn’t like being babied. 

 

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, and guided him into the bathroom.  She held his hair for him, and felt very sorry for him and very scared all at once.  Once he was done, she helped him to rinse out his mouth and led him back to bed.  As an afterthought, she grabbed the garbage can from near the door and set it next to the bed.

 

            “Honey, why don’t I call your doctor?” she asked.

 

            “We should take my blood sugar first,” he said.

 

            Bret’s use of the word ‘we’ startled Julie, but she tried not to show it.  Bret had taught her how to do this months ago, but she’d never actually had to.  Just receiving the instructions had scared her; she’d never wanted to see him in a position where he couldn’t do it himself.  She dug around in Bret’s suitcase until she found what she needed.  She took the meter out of its case and loaded a lancet into the injector, then turned it on.  “Do you want me to just do it for you?”

 

            “Sure,” Bret said, still not meeting her gaze.

 

            Julie put a test strip in the meter and took Bret’s hand.  She pricked his finger and watched as his blood dripped onto the test strip, then waited anxiously for it to read.  When she saw the reading, she swallowed.  “I’m calling your doctor,” she said, putting the meter down.  “It just says ‘HI’.  What’s the phone number?”  She half-expected Bret to argue, but he just rattled off the number, and she dialed quickly. 

 

            Once she had the doctor on the phone, she tried to explain the situation as calmly as possible, not wanting to show her alarm in front of Bret.  “Dr. McKay, this is Julie Kinsington,” she said.  “Bret’s very sick.”  She waited for him to respond before continuing.  “Well, he’s been feverish all morning, and he can’t keep anything down.  I just took his blood sugar and it’s not registering on the meter.”  She listened to his instructions.  “All right.  I’ll call you back in an hour, then.”

 

            “What did he say?”

 

            “He told me to give you a shot of regular,” she said.  “Then take your blood sugar again in an hour and call him back.”  As she spoke, she was already moving about the room, throwing away the test strip and lancet, and preparing the shot.  “You know you’re not going to be able to do the show tonight.”

 

            “No, we don’t know that yet,” Bret said as firmly as he could.  “I can’t make that kind of decision too early.”

 

            Rather than arguing with him, Julie administered the shot, then got him a glass of water.  “See if you can keep this down,” she said.

 

            He took the water and tentatively sipped at it, then looked up at her.  Julie held his gaze, but felt absolutely terrified; the worse she’d ever seen Bret was fall-down drunk or hungover, and the pale form before her now barely looked like him.  As if he could read her mind, Bret spoke.  “Sweetheart, don’t be so scared.  I’m going to be okay.”

 

            Julie swallowed.  “I know you are,” she said, hoping her tone didn’t give away the fact that she didn’t know if he’d be okay.  “Just try to get some rest, okay?”  She leaned down and kissed his forehead.

 

            “I love you, Julie.”

 

            Julie took a deep breath to steady herself.  “I love you, too.”

 

Julie felt terrible as she shook Bret awake.  He’d only managed to doze off a few minutes ago, after being unable to keep even the water down, but she had to check his blood sugar again.  Bret barely moved as she did so, and just as she feared, the reading hadn’t changed.  Without saying anything to Bret, she dialed Dr. McKay’s number, nearly panicking. 

 

            “Doctor, it’s Julie Kinsington again.  His reading hasn’t gone down at all, and he can’t even keep water down.  I’m…”  She bit back ‘scared’.  “I’m pretty concerned.”  She listened to him for a moment.  “Do you think that will help?  I mean, it didn’t seem to the first time….. yes, all right.  I’ll call you back.”

 

            “What…” Bret began, his voice barely above a whisper now.

 

            “He said that I should give you another shot,” Julie said.  “Frankly, I think we should be doing something more, but I don’t know what.”  She hurriedly prepared and gave him the shot.  He barely responded.  “Honey?”

 

            Bret made a sort of low moaning noise and rolled over onto his side, pulling his legs up toward his chest. 

 

            “Bret??” Julie dropped the syringe and put her hand on his arm. 

 

            “It hurts,” Bret said.  His voice was choked with pain.

 

            “Honey, what hurts?”  Julie couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice, but she doubted Bret even noticed.

 

            “…can’t wear those pants onstage…” Bret murmured, still curled in the fetal position.  Julie picked up the phone and dialed 911.  Somewhere in the back of her head, the thought struck her that this was likely to cause a lot of publicity, and she pushed the thought away.

 

            “911, what is your emergency?”

 

            Julie did her best to keep her voice level.  Freaking out to the 911 operator could only make things worse.  “My boyfriend’s very sick,” she said.  “He’s diabetic, and he’s almost unresponsive at this point.”  She told the operator a few more details.

 

            “You’re at the Hotel Vintage Park, is that correct?”

 

            “Yes.”

 

            “Someone will be there shortly.  Is he breathing?”

 

            “Yes,” Julie said, and thanked some higher power for it.  “He’s delirious and in pain, but he’s breathing.”

 

            “Just continue to monitor his breathing.  The paramedics will be there any minute.  Have you alerted the front desk?”

 

            “No.  Should I do that?” Julie asked dumbly.  It was getting progressively harder to maintain her calm.

 

            “Yes,” the operator told her.  “That will save time.  We’ll have to disconnect for you to do that, but if anything changes before the ambulance arrives, just call again.”  They got off the phone and Julie hurriedly called down to the front desk to tell them what was going on.  Once that was done, she forced herself to look more closely at Bret.  He was still curled up on his side, silent, but obviously in pain.  As much as Julie longed to help him somehow, what little was left of her better judgment told her that she really had no idea what she was doing, and doing anything at all might serve to make an already terrible situation worse. 

 

            Thankfully, a few minutes later there was a knock on the door and a male voice announced that it was the paramedics.  Julie scrambled to open the door.  At first, the two men just rushed into action, taking Bret’s pulse and blood pressure, and Julie watched in agonizing silence, not wanting to interfere.  Finally, one of the men left the room, and the other addressed Julie.  He asked her for a lot of information, which Julie shakily gave him.  “We’re taking him to Our Lady of Mercy,” he told her.  “Do you want to ride in the ambulance?”

 

            Julie considered it for a minute, knowing she probably should, but then shook her head.  “We’re staying here with friends of his,” she said, even though she realized that he probably knew who Bret was, and thus who his ‘friends’ were.  “I have to tell them what’s going on, and then we’ll all go.”  She didn’t think she could handle another minute of this situation alone without some kind of moral support, even if it was from a bunch of hungover rock stars.  She paused.  “I guess you can’t really diagnose him, huh?” she said, desperate for some kind of answer.

 

            The paramedic shook his head regretfully.  “The most I can tell you is that it’s likely got something to do with his diabetes.”  Just then, the second paramedic re-entered the room, stretcher in tow, and they began carefully loading Bret onto it.  He let out a weak moan that made Julie’s stomach clench up.  She felt as though she should do something, touch him or console him somehow, but instead she just watched mutely as they carried him out of the room. 

 

            For a few long minutes, Julie didn’t move, almost unable to even comprehend what had just taken place.  Then, summoning all of her will, she numbly walked out of the room and took the elevator upstairs to talk to the band.

 

            This time, Bobby pulled the door open and greeted her.  Julie had never expected to be able to stand Bobby, much less like him, but over the past few months he’d grown on her.  He seemed to have changed from the person who beat Marcella into a bloody pulp, and besides, it was true that if he hadn’t, she and Bret never would have met.

 

            “Hey, pretty lady,” Bobby greeted her.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

 

            “Where’s everyone else?” Julie asked.

 

            Bobby shrugged.  “Your guess is as good as mine on that one,” he replied.  “I came out of the shower and they weren’t here.”  He glanced at the clock.  “Don’t tell me Bret wants to rehearse now.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “Actually, I rather wish that was what I was here to tell you.” 

 

            Bobby frowned. “Why?  What’s up?”

 

            “Bret’s on his way to the hospital.”  There was just no candy-coated way of putting it. 

 

            Bobby blinked. “Rikki said he just had the stomach flu.”

 

            “Well, that’s what we thought,” Julie agreed, “but he just kept getting worse all day, and his blood sugar skyrocketed.  When he suddenly curled into the fetal position and started spewing gibberish at me, I called 911.”

 

            Bobby ran a hand through his hair.  “Jesus fuck.”

 

            “Yeah.  I had hoped you’d all be here so we could head over to the hospital.”

 

            “Do you want me to go with you?”

 

            Julie wanted him to go with her more than anything, but she knew that wasn’t the right choice.  “No,” she said.  “I want you to wait here until C.C. and Rikki get back, and then meet me over there.”

 

            “You sure?”

 

            No.  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.  Just get to the hospital when you can.”  Almost as an afterthought, Julie added, “It’s Our Lady of Mercy.”

 

            “Okay,” Bobby said.  “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

 

§

 

            Julie had been sitting in the waiting room chewing a hole through her brain for nearly two hours.  Apparently, everyone had thought this Sunday would be a good day to seriously injure themselves, and the only person Julie had spoken to was a nurse who had told her that someone would be out to talk to her as soon as possible.  Although she empathized with how busy the hospital was, Julie found herself silently cursing the staff for not keeping her informed.

 

            Suddenly, from behind her, someone spoke.  “Are you okay?”

           

            Julie recognized the voice immediately and jumped up.  Without responding immediately, she collapsed against Sebastian and closed her eyes, forgetting the events that had taken place the night before.  She wanted to lose herself in his long hair and pretend that none of this was happening.  Sebastian’s long arms pulled Julie against him and held tightly.  They stayed that way for a while before she pulled away to look up at him.  “What are you doing here?” she asked softly.

 

            “I ran into Bobby at a bar,” Sebastian replied.  “He was trying to hunt down C.C. and Rikki, and he told me what happened.”

 

            Suddenly, the reality of the situation between herself and Sebastian struck Julie and she took a tentative step backwards.  “I don’t know how he’s doing yet,” she said.  “No one’s talked to me.”

 

            “Yeah,” he said, “I know how hospitals work.”

 

            “You didn’t have to come down here.  If you want, I can call you when I know more.”

 

            Sebastian looked hurt.  “I didn’t come here for Bret,” he said.  “I mean, I’m as worried about him as you are, but he’s got a lot of trained professionals looking after him. You’re all by yourself.”

 

            “I’m not the sick one.”

 

            “And maybe that’s a disadvantage, in its way,” Sebastian said.  “You’re the one who has to sit here and be alert and worry.  I’m sure Bret would rather be where he’s at than on the other side of this game.”

 

            Julie knew he had a point; part of her wished that she was the one in the emergency room so that he wouldn’t have to feel pain.  She sat back down.  “I feel terrible,” she said.  “I should have done something.”

 

            “What else could you have done?” Sebastian asked, sitting down next to her.  “You were with him all day, and then when it got serious you called an ambulance.  That about covers it.”

 

            “I don’t know.  I should have known.  I should have brought him in earlier.”

 

            “Why didn’t you?”

 

            Julie snorted. “I was following his doctor’s orders.”

 

            “Then you did the right thing there, too.  Look, Jule, I know you desperately want to be on top of a situation at all times, but anyone in your position would have done what you did. You didn’t fuck up.”

 

            Internally, Julie was relieved to hear someone say out loud that she had done the right thing.  She sighed. “Yeah, I know.  This is just hellish.”

 

            Sebastian put his arm around Julie again, and she didn’t pull away.  Now was not the time to worry about whether that was okay or not.  “He’ll be fine, Julie.  You’re a chick, and chicks never believe that, but he’s going to be okay.”

 

            Before Julie had a chance to respond, Rikki, C.C., and Bobby walked into the waiting room.  After an attempt at casual greetings, Rikki spoke.  “How is he?”

 

            Julie opened her mouth to answer, but Sebastian took over.  “We haven’t heard anything yet.  I’m sure he’s going to be fine.”

 

            “You mean you guys have just been sitting here for a few hours and no one’s said anything at all?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

 

            “I have been,” Julie said.  “They said they’re very busy and someone would get to me as soon as possible.”

 

            “That’s bullshit,” C.C. said.  “I’m going to go find a doctor.”

 

            “Chill out, C.C.,” Sebastian said as C.C. started to walk towards the nurse’s station.  Mercifully, just at that moment, the door swung open and a doctor approached them.

 

            He addressed Julie.  “I’ll start by telling you that Bret’s going to be all right this time,” he said, and the sense of relief in the room was almost tangible.  “But,” the doctor continued, “he had a close call.”

 

            “Thank you,” Julie said.  “What happened to him?”

 

            “Well, his bloodstream stopped absorbing the insulin, although admittedly we’re not entirely sure why.  That just happens sometimes.  Anyway, it caused his bloodsugar to rise to extremely dangerous levels, and he was nearly in a coma when he got here.”  Julie glanced surreptitiously at Sebastian, and it was clear that he hadn’t imagined Bret’s situation was so serious.  “We have him on intravenous insulin and fluids to rehydrate him.  He’s going to have to stay here for a few days, but he should be fine.”

                       

            “Can we see him?”

 

            “Well, I think he’s been through a bit this evening to be crowded right now,” the doctor said.  “But if you want to go in for a few minutes by yourself, that would be all right.  He’s on the second floor in Room 315.”  He scribbled something on his clipboard.  “By the way, I’m Dr. Markowitz, in case you should need me.”  He shook Julie’s hand and left.

 

            Julie turned to the guys.  “I’ll come see you guys as soon as I get back to the hotel,” she promised.  “I shouldn’t be long.”

 

            “Are you sure you don’t want us to wait and give you a ride back with us?” Rikki offered.

 

            “I’ll give her a ride,” Sebastian cut in quickly.

 

            Julie almost refused the offer, but decided that would look odd and kept quiet.  Bobby looked about to say something, but he, too, remained silent.

 

            Rikki gave Julie a quick hug.  “Chin up, dollface,” he said.  “Bret’s a tough one.  He’ll be okay.”

 

            “We’ll see you back at the hotel,” C.C. said then, and the band left.

 

            Julie and Sebastian stood in the waiting room quietly for a moment.  Finally, Sebastian said, “You should get up there and see him.  I’ll wait here for you.”

 

            “Okay,” she replied, and was about to say more, but thought better of it.  “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

 

§

 

            When Julie got to Bret’s room, he was sitting up, but his eyes were closed.  She tentatively approached the bed and said his name softly.  He opened his eyes.  “Hi,” he said quietly.

 

            “How are you feeling?”

 

            Bret shrugged.  “I’ve felt better.”

 

            “You gave me a pretty good scare,” Julie admitted.

 

            “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. 

 

            “Don’t be sorry.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

            “Do the guys know?”

 

            “Yeah,” Julie said.  “They just left.  The doctor didn’t want us to crowd you.”

 

            “How are you going to get back to the hotel?”

 

            Julie bit the inside of her cheek.  “Sebastian’s in the waiting room,” she said cautiously. 

 

            “Baz brought you here?”

 

            “No, I took a cab.  He ran into Bobby and then showed up here.”

 

            “I guess they’re going to keep me here for a few days,” Bret said.  “Is Baz going to stay with you?”

 

            Julie blinked.  “I hadn’t really given that any thought.”

 

            “Well, I don’t want you staying by yourself,” Bret replied. 

 

            “What about the guys?”

 

            Bret made a noise that might have been a laugh.  “You’ve seen their hotel room.  Wouldn’t you rather stay with Baz?”

 

            “Sure,” Julie said, afraid that any other answer would sound suspicious.  “I just don’t know when he’s planning on leaving.”

 

            “I’m sure he’ll stick around, given the circumstances.”

 

            “Yeah,” Julie said, and found herself uncertain of what to say next.  “I should let you get some rest,” she said after a moment.  “I’ll come back first thing in the morning.”

 

            “Okay.  Jule, try not to worry about me.  I’m fine.”

 

            “Yeah, I know,” Julie said.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  She leaned down and they kissed briefly.

 

            “I love you,” Bret said.

 

            “I love you, too.  Goodnight.”  Julie left the room quickly and made her way back to the waiting room. 

 

            Sebastian was flipping through a magazine, but when he saw Julie he put it down and rose to his feet.  “How is he?”

 

            “Honestly, he looks like shit,” Julie replied.  “Although he looks a lot better than he did when they brought him in here.”

 

            “I’m sure in a couple of days we won’t even be able to tell this happened,” Sebastian assured her.  “You ready to go?”

 

            “I could have just taken a cab,” Julie said, but even as she spoke she followed him outside.

 

            “Don’t be ridiculous.  I have a rental car.”  Sebastian grinned as they walked across the parking lot.

 

            When they got to the car, Julie said, “Ford Taurus.”

 

            “What about it?”

 

            “You?  In a Taurus?  Sebastian, this car is forest green.”

 

            “They were fresh out of black Corvettes,” he retorted, opening the passenger door.  “Get in.” 

 

Julie climbed into the car and Sebastian closed the door, then got in on the driver’s side.  He lit a cigarette.  “Want one?”

 

Julie took one and let him light it.  As they started to drive, she said, “We can’t just pretend that last night didn’t happen.”

 

“We’re not pretending anything,” Sebastian replied, his eyes on the road.  “Something fucked up went down tonight and you needed my help.”  He glanced at her.  “Whether you admit it or not.  This has nothing to do with what happened last night.”

 

“Bret thinks you should stay with me while he’s in the hospital.”

 

“And what do you think about that?” Sebastian asked, not missing a beat.

 

Julie hesitated.  “I guess I think that if that’s what Bret wants…”

 

“The question is not what Bret wants, it’s what Julie wants.”

 

“At the moment, all Julie wants is for Bret to get better,” she replied.  “As for you staying with me, I think that given the circumstances we can just try to ignore last night and try to make the best of a shitty situation.”

 

            “Your wish is my command.”

 

§

 

            Julie didn’t address Sebastian again until they were back at the hotel.  “I’m going to go upstairs and see the guys for a minute,” she said.  “When I come back we can discuss the fact that there’s only one bed in here.”  Without waiting for a response, she left the room and went upstairs. 

 

            Rikki opened the door.  “Hi, sweetie,” he said, moving aside so Julie could enter.  Bobby and C.C. were sitting in front of the TV.

 

            C.C. grinned.  “They have a channel on this thing that shows female mud wrestling!”  He waved a beer at her.

 

            “No, thank you,” Julie said.  “Beer instead of liquor?  You guys must be pretty upset.”

 

            Bobby turned the TV off.  “How’s Bret?”

 

            “He’ll be okay,” Julie said.  “He looked pretty tired, but he was much better than earlier today.”  She paused.  “Did you guys think to cancel the show?”

 

            “I took care of it,” Rikki said.  “They weren’t real happy about it, but tonight’s show wasn’t sold out, so it could have been worse.”

 

            “Do you want to crash here tonight?” C.C. offered.

 

            Julie looked around the destroyed hotel room.  “I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

 

            C.C. laughed.  “We’ll even clean up for you.”

 

            “It’s okay.  Sebastian’s going to stay with me while Bret’s in the hospital.”

 

            “How does Bret feel about that?” Bobby asked, and immediately looked like he regretted saying it.

 

            “Actually, it was his idea.”

 

            “Well, Bret knows best,” Rikki put in.  “If you need us, we’ll be here.”

 

            “Thanks, guys,” Julie said.  “I’m going to go downstairs and take a shower and go to bed early.”  They exchanged ‘goodnight’s and Julie headed slowly back downstairs, not quite sure what to do with the situation she was about to deal with.

 

            Sebastian was drinking a rather tall glass of whiskey when Julie got back to the room.  “You want one?”

 

            Julie was about to decline, but found herself nodding.  Somehow, getting good and hammered seemed like a very appropriate ending to a very long, horrible day.  Sebastian poured the drink.  “Do you want me to mix this with something?”

 

            “No.  I’m going for effect, not flavor.”  She took the drink and took a deep swallow, cringing a little at the taste.

            “My sentiments exactly.”

 

            Julie took another sip, wanting to get drunk enough to feel numb as quickly as possible.  “Tell me again that Bret’s going to be fine.”

 

            “Bret’s going to be fine,” Sebastian said obediently.  “He’s already fine.  They just want to make sure he stays that way, which he will.”

 

            “It made my stomach hurt when he said that he’d rather have me stay with you than by myself.”

 

            Sebastian was quiet for a minute as he finished his drink and poured himself another.  “He knows that I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he said finally.

 

            Julie held her breath and chugged the remainder of her drink.  “That depends on your definition of ‘bad’, I suppose.  Pour me another one.”

 

            Sebastian poured more whiskey into her glass.  “You might want to slow down a little or you’ll be on your knees in the bathroom.”

 

            Julie waved the idea off.  “I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she said, drinking a third of the glass in one swallow.  “Besides, I’ve never been sick from drinking.  Not once.”

 

            “Impressive.”  He polished off the rest of the whiskey in his glass, then put the glass down.

 

            Julie drank some more of hers.  “Done already?”

 

            “I had one before you came back in,” Sebastian replied.  “I think I’m good for now.”

 

            “If three’s enough for you, I guess two’s enough for me.”  She closed her eyes and finished off her drink.  “This shit is fucking disgusting.”

 

            “It isn’t consumed for flavor,” Sebastian agreed.

 

            Julie put the glass down.  “I’m going to go take a shower before I’m fucked up enough to run a serious risk of drowning.”

 

            “If you’re not out in 15 minutes, I’ll bring you a snorkel,” Sebastian said, sitting down on the bed and turning on the TV.

 

            “I think they’re in the drawer with the bible.”  Julie went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.  The whiskey was already making her feel slightly warm and tingly, which made it hard to think about anything quite rationally.  She attempted to consider her situation for a moment, but couldn’t quite hold on to a thought, and then gave up.  After all, that had been her exact motivation for drinking in the first place.  She took her time in the shower, trying to wash away the evening.  Eventually she started to feel the effects of the two glasses of whiskey she consumed, and forced herself to turn off the water and get out, almost falling.  Apparently, the liquor had crept up on her more quickly than she’d expected it to.  At the same time that she had that thought, another thought struck her – she hadn’t brought a change of clothes into the bathroom with her.  A more sober version of herself would have put her old clothes back on long enough to go get new ones, but the version of her that was currently getting progressively more and more drunk marched out of the room wearing nothing but a towel.

 

            Sebastian was laying backwards on the bed, his head hanging off the side, staring at something on the television that appeared to be in Spanish.  He glanced at Julie.  “I don’t know if it’s the JD or what, but from upside down, it looks like you’re only wearing a towel.”

 

            “That’s because I’m only wearing a towel,” Julie said triumphantly, and realized she was starting to slur.  Somewhere in the back of her head, the voice of good reasoning admonished her for drinking that much whiskey, but she quickly dismissed the thought.  The whiskey was, after all, the only thing keeping her from totally losing it.

 

            Sebastian pulled himself upright.  “Is this supposed to be some kind of drunken endurance test?”

 

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julie replied.  She made no move to get dressed.

 

            Sebastian chuckled.  “I just drank half a bottle of Jack Daniels, and the most gorgeous woman in the world comes strutting out of the bathroom in a towel.  You’re right, I must be nuts.”

 

            Any remnants of Julie’s better reasoning were rapidly dissipating.  “Am I testing your self-restraint?”

 

            Sebastian raised an eyebrow.  “Maybe,” he said.  “Are you trying to?”

 

            “Maybe,” Julie retorted.  “I really don’t have any idea what I’m doing right now.”

 

            “I think ‘being drunk’ is a safe answer.”

 

            “And you’re not being drunk?”

 

            “I didn’t say that.  I’m definitely drunk.”

 

            “You still haven’t told me if I’m testing your self-restraint.”

 

            “I said you might be.”

 

            Julie let the towel drop to the floor.  “How about now?”

 

            Sebastian remained quiet for a moment, drinking in the sight of her.  “Okay, now it’s getting a little more difficult for me to just sit here.”

 

            “Ah,” Julie said, “but you have to just sit there.  I’m an owned woman.”

 

            “You’re a cruel woman.”  He turned off the TV.

 

            “I don’t think I’ve ever been called cruel before.”

 

            “Have you ever done something like this before?”

 

            “That’s none of your business.”

 

            “I’d tell you to put your clothes on because you’re drunk and don’t realize what you’re doing,” Sebastian said, “but that would be self-defeating.”

 

            “Why?” Julie asked, finding it a bit difficult to remain totally upright.  The room wasn’t spinning yet, at least.  “What are you gaining from this situation?”

 

            “At the moment?  An eyeful.”

 

            “I’m surprised you’re not trying to get more.”

 

            “So am I.”

 

            Julie took a few steps closer to the bed.  “What if I come closer?”

 

            “Then you make it even harder for me to not do anything.”  There was lust in his eyes.

 

            “No pun intended, right?”  Sebastian didn’t respond.  “What if I did… this?” Julie asked, and climbed onto the bed.  She straddled him, making sure that no part of her body actually touched his.

 

            Sebastian made a noise from deep in his throat.  “Julie, if you keep this up, I’m not going to be able to resist.  No man could.”

 

            Julie brought her face down close to his, drunk and daring.  “You’re stronger than that, aren’t you, Sebastian?”  His name rolled off of her tongue.

 

            Sebastian didn’t move for a few minutes, just looking at her.  His desire was almost tangible.  “Not around you,” he said finally, and his hands came up around her. 

 

            “What are you doing?”

 

            “Exactly what you knew I would do,” he said, and leaned up to kiss her.  Through a haze of alcohol and desire, Julie didn’t resist, but instead let herself lean into him.  Their tongues intertwined and Julie tasted his mouth; whiskey and cigarettes.  The flavor was strangely comforting.  She grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged.  Sebastian groaned into her mouth and dug his nails into her back. 

 

            Julie pulled back a little bit and looked into his eyes.  “Do you want to do this?” she asked him, her voice choked with alcohol and emotion.  Even as she spoke, she was pulling his shirt off then pushing him down onto his back.

 

            “You have no idea.”  He closed his eyes.  “I’ve been thinking about you for months.”  His voice was quiet and breathy.

 

            Julie kissed his neck and then began moving lower, pausing to flick her tongue over each of his nipples.  His skin tasted exquisite.  Sebastian stiffened beneath her and exhaled as she moved steadily lower.  When she reached the waistline of his pants, he arched his back slightly and moaned. 

 

            Julie took her time unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off.  She was operating entirely on instinct now, any conscious reasoning long gone.  She went back to kissing his body, along his waist and down his thighs, relishing every noise he made.  After a few minutes of this, his voice gravelly and low, he said, “Please.”

 

            The word gave Julie goosebumps and she found herself unable to do anything but give Sebastian what he wanted.  She slowly took him into her mouth, letting his movements and sounds guide her.  He brought his hands down and wrapped them in her hair and she paused to look at him.  “Does it feel good?” she asked him.

 

            “Amazing,” he said breathily, not opening his eyes.  “Don’t stop.”

 

            Julie went back to pleasuring him, quickly getting lost in the moment.  Sebastian arched his back more, pushing himself into her mouth; she put her hands on his hips to hold him down a bit.  Every noise he made encouraged her to work harder, and she was consumed by the desire to make him feel good.

 

            After a while, Sebastian’s breathing became more irregular, and he said, “Stop.”

 

            Julie pulled back. “Why?”

 

            “I don’t want this to be over yet.”

 

            She tensed at the sound of his words and moved up so she was face to face with him.  “Neither do I,” she said, and kissed him.  As their tongues met, she slid herself down onto him slowly, torturing herself as much as him.  Once he was fully inside of her, Julie began to move her hips in slow, circular motions, and the sensation was almost too much.  Sebastian groaned and their kiss broke as he put his hands on her waist, his eyes still closed and his mouth partially open.  “God,” he said, still in that gravelly tone that made Julie feel feverish. 

 

            Julie closed her eyes and lost herself in the rhythms of sex.  The sensations were so intense that she could barely stand it.  The other times that she had slept with Sebastian had been rushed, animalistic; amazing, but nothing compared to the calculated and deliberate manner in which they were moving now.  Even through her drunken blindness, Julie felt her passion building quickly, and told Sebastian so just before she exploded.

 

            In a fluid motion, he turned her over so that he was on top, and he moved in and out of her with the same unhurried movements that she had used.  “You feel so good,” she said to him.

 

            “I’ve never felt anything like this.”

 

They pushed against each other for a long time, kissing often, their hands everywhere, before Sebastian’s motions became more erratic.  Julie felt herself coming again.  A moment later, she felt him tense and then spill hotly into her.  They stayed still for a few long minutes, collecting themselves, before Sebastian rolled off of her.

 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he said. 

 

“I know,” Julie responded, still very much caught up in what had just taken place, and still very drunk.  She moved closer to Sebastian and put her head on his chest.

 

They lay in silence and Julie began to drift off to sleep.  Just before unconsciousness overcame her, she heard Sebastian say softly, “I love you.”

 

§

 

From underneath a splitting headache, Julie heard the hotel room door open, and didn’t really comprehend it.  At the moment, all she wanted to do was crawl under a rock and stay there for a few weeks.  Hopefully, the maid, or whoever was in the room, would realize she was sleeping and just go away.

 

“Oh, isn’t this just fucking lovely,” came a male voice from the edge of the bed.

 

In a rush, the memory of the previous night washed over Julie and she realized that it was Bobby who had just walked in.  A voice in her head screamed something about the stupidity of not bothering to lock the door.  She reluctantly pulled her head out from underneath the pillow and sat up, careful to not uncover herself, and looked from Bobby to the sleeping form of Sebastian and back.  As she was about to speak, Bobby turned and walked quickly out of the room.

 

Grabbing one of the complimentary hotel robes, Julie took off down the hall after him.  “Bobby, wait!”

 

Bobby stopped and turned, his anger clearly evident.  “What?”

 

Julie stopped and sighed internally.  What, indeed?  “Look,” she said after a minute, “I’m not going to try to lie my way out of this.”

 

“I don’t see how you possibly could.”

 

            “Are you going to tell Bret?”

 

            Bobby looked at her evenly.  “No,” he said.  “I don’t think so.  Believe me, though, it’s not because I’m protecting you from anything.”

 

            “I wouldn’t expect you to,” Julie said quietly.

 

            “All I’m going to say is, with what he did to Marcella, he’s fucking lucky I’m not a more vengeful person.”  He turned to walk away.

 

            “What are you talking about?”

 

            Bobby turned back and looked at her.  “You know what,” he said angrily.  “Nevermind.  I’m sure someone who does things in such a timely fashion wouldn’t have time to hear about this.”  He spit the words out fiercely, and without waiting for a reply, left.

 

            For a moment, Julie just stood in the hallway, not wanting to face Sebastian or the reality that came with him.  Through her hangover, she couldn’t feel much, but she knew that once she felt better physically, the situation was going to eat her alive.  Thinking back, she couldn’t remember a single thing she’d done that was as awful as sleeping with Sebastian the night Bret went into the hospital.

 

            Finally, she forced herself to go back inside.  Sebastian was sitting up in bed.  “I guess we should have locked the door,” he offered lamely.

 

            Julie almost yelled at him, but stopped herself.  She knew she had no upper hand in this situation, and that in reality, she might have done something even worse than he had.  “Yeah.  We should have,” she replied.

 

            “What did he say?”

           

            “Well, he said he doesn’t think he’s going to tell Bret.  He also said something about Marcella, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

 

            “He’ll always be bitter about her,” Sebastian said. 

 

            Julie rummaged around in her purse until she found the Tylenol, then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and swallowed four of them.  Tossing the bottles on the bed, she said, “I’m going to go take a shower and then get over to the hospital.”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “I’ll be ready when you get out.”

 

            Julie froze.  “You’re coming with me?”  The idea made her cringe.  She didn’t know if she could face Bret with Sebastian in the room.

 

            “Don’t you think he’d find it a bit off if the guy he has you staying with just wasn’t around?”

 

            Julie sighed. He had a point. “Yeah. You’re right.”  Without saying more, she went into the bathroom and slowly dragged herself through the motions of taking a shower.  She wasn’t at all looking forward to seeing Bret with Sebastian in tow, but she knew she didn’t have a choice.

 

            She came out of the bathroom, again wearing the hotel robe, and grabbed some clothes out of a drawer.  Halfway back to the bathroom, she stopped.  “I guess it doesn’t really matter if I change my clothes in front of you at this point.”

 

            Sebastian was already dressed and idly flipping channels on the TV.  “Not really,” he agreed, but didn’t look at her as she put her clothes on.  She went back in the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair, and hurriedly put on makeup.

 

            “You ready?” she asked, grabbing her purse.

 

            “If you are,” Sebastian said, turning off the TV. 

 

            They didn’t speak as they walked from the hotel room to Sebastian’s rental car and began driving to the hospital. Halfway there, Julie said, “Do you think he’ll notice something’s up?”

 

            “No,” Sebastian said simply.

 

            “Why are you so sure of that?”

 

            “Do you want my entire answer, or do you want me to just say it’s because we’re not dumb enough to give ourselves away?”

 

            “Your entire answer,” Julie said.

 

            “He won’t think anything is up because Bret thinks the world of you, and never in his wildest dreams has he imagined that you might do what you did last night.”

 

            Julie cringed at the truth in his words.  “I didn’t think I would, either,” she said quietly.

 

            “Well, that makes three of us.”

 

            “Look, Sebastian, I—“

 

            He cut her off.  “Yeah.  I know the drill.  You had a really good time last night, but you were drunk, and we shouldn’t have done that, and we can’t do it again, blah blah blah.”  He was staring intently at the road.

 

            Julie sighed.  “I’ve been with Bret for a long time.”

 

            They pulled into the hospital parking lot.  “I think I know that better than you two do,” Sebastian said.  They parked and made the journey to Bret’s room in silence.  When they were outside of his door, Sebastian spoke again.  “Look, I’m not any more excited about this than you are.  Just stay cool.”

 

            Julie gave him a look and pushed Bret’s door open.  He was sitting up in bed, flipping through a magazine, and he smiled when he saw them.  “Hey,” he greeted them.

 

            Julie put on her most convincing smile.  “Hi, gorgeous,” she said, and kissed him.  “How are you feeling?”

 

            “Better now that you’re here,” Bret said.  Julie did her best to continue looking normal.  “Seriously, I’m feeling pretty much back to normal.  I’ll be out of here on Wednesday.”

 

            “That’s great,” Julie said.  “I’m looking forward to going home.”

 

            “Me, too,” Bret agreed.  He looked at Sebastian.  “Hey, asshole.  What’s up?”

 

            Sebastian forced a smile.  “Not much, dickwad,” he replied.  “I mean, besides being grounded in Seattle while you recuperate.”

 

            Bret laughed.  “And you just know I did it on purpose.”

 

            “Nothing would surprise me.”

 

            “Stop being a dick and tell me what you’ve been up to all this time.”

 

            Sebastian shrugged.  “You know,” he said.  “The usual bullshit.  Touring.”

 

            “Staying out of trouble?”

 

            “If by ‘staying out of trouble’ you mean ‘not getting caught’, then yeah, for the most part.”

 

            “For the most part?” 

 

            “I’d say one night in jail over a period of six months is pretty good for me,” Sebastian replied.

 

            “What did you do?” Bret asked.  Julie raised an eyebrow.

 

            “She didn’t look fourteen,” Sebastian replied, grinning.  When he saw the shocked look on Julie’s face, he laughed.  “I’m kidding.  It was possession.”

 

            “Do I even have to ask, possession of what?” Bret asked.

 

            “Probably not.”

 

            Bret shrugged.  “Okay, you’re right.  One arrest in six months is pretty good for you.  You’re still an idiot, though.”

 

            “Me?  You’re the fuckwit who landed yourself in the hospital.  I haven’t done anything stupid enough to nearly kill myself yet.”  He paused.  “Okay, maybe I have, but I’ve never been taken to the hospital on a stretcher.”

 

            Julie shot him a look.  “Yeah, honey,” she said, “we don’t want to lose you yet.”

 

            Bret smiled at her.  “It’s gonna take a lot more than nearly dying to get me away from you, babe,” he said.

 

            Julie couldn’t help it and started to cry.  She tried to stop herself, but with her hangover receding, guilt was quickly taking its place.  Bret looked up at her, his expression surprised and confused.  “I’m sorry,” Julie choked out.  “I’m making an ass out of myself.”

 

            Sebastian frowned.  “I think I’m just going to go downstairs and get us all some coffee,” he announced.  “You two look like you could use some time alone.”  Without waiting for a response, he ducked out.

 

            Bret looked back at Julie.  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

            Julie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.  “You didn’t,” she assured him.  “I think all of this drama just has me a little keyed up.”  She sat in the chair next to his bed. 

 

            “I’m sorry, sweetheart.  This must be hell for you.”

 

            Julie bit the inside of her cheek.  The last thing Bret would be doing right now would be feeling sorry for her, if he knew what had really been going on.  “I’m okay,” she said, collecting herself a bit.  “I was just worried about you.”

 

            “I know,” Bret said.  He motioned for her to climb onto the bed with him, which she reluctantly did.  He put his arm around her and pulled her against his chest.  “I’m fine,” he assured her.  “Just two more days and we can go home.”

 

            Julie allowed herself to relax against Bret.  Despite how terrible she felt, being with him was comforting, and she closed her eyes.  “I can’t wait to go home,” she agreed.  For a long time, they laid in silence, then Julie sat up.  “Where do you suppose Sebastian got to?” 

 

            “Trying to land a nurse?” Bret suggested, smiling.

 

            Julie forced herself to smile as she climbed off of the bed.  “I’m just going to run down to the cafeteria and see if I can hurry him up a bit.”

 

            Bret nodded.  “All right,” he said.  “Tell him not to worry about coffee for me.”

 

            Julie took the elevator downstairs and after a few wrong turns, found the cafeteria.  It was nearly empty, and Sebastian was nowhere in sight.  She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and headed towards the front door to look for his car.  When she was passing the intake desk, the woman working there stopped her.

 

            “Excuse me, are you Miss Kinsington?”

 

            Julie turned and tried to force a smile, assuming the woman knew who she was and wanted to press her for Bret’s autograph or something similar.  “Yes,” she said.

 

            “There’s a note for you,” the woman said, handing her a folded piece of paper.

 

            Julie took the note and frowned.  “Thank you,” she said, and took a few steps away from the desk before unfolding the paper. 

 

            It read: Jules, You asked last night, ‘Aren’t you stronger than that?’ and my answer was, ‘Not around you’.  I need to figure out what to do with the only woman I can’t have.  –S.

 

            Julie took a deep breath to steady herself, finding herself overcome with anger.  Sebastian had a tendency to run when a situation got too heavy for him, and she hated him for having the option to do that while she was forced to deal with this head-on.  She tossed the note into a nearby trashcan and went back to Bret’s room.

 

            “Where’s Baz?”

 

            Julie swallowed.  “Well, he’s not in the cafeteria.”

 

            Bret gave her a questioning look.  “Then where is he?”

 

            “His car’s not in the parking lot,” Julie replied.  “He could conceivably be on his way anywhere right now.”

 

            Bret’s expression darkened.  “You mean he just took off?”

           

            “Again,” Julie confirmed.

 

            “Why the fuck would he do that?”  Anger was creeping into his tone.

 

            “Your guess is as good as mine,” Julie lied.  “I still have no idea why he did it the first time.”

 

            “You know, I’m really starting to get so sick of his bullshit.  He doesn’t seem to have changed at all in the past six months.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “Yeah,” she said, “but how much have we changed?”

 

            Bret looked at her for a minute.  “How are you going to get back to the hotel?”

 

            “I’ll call one of the guys,” Julie said.  “I’m sure Rikki will come pick me up.”

 

            Bret nodded.  “It’s fucking ridiculous that Baz would just leave you here like that,” he said.  “He’s lucky I’m used to dealing with his shit.”

 

            Julie didn’t quite know how to respond to that.  “You should be resting,” she said after a minute.  “And so should I.  I think I’m going to go back to the hotel and just sleep for a long time.”

 

            “It’s only 6:00,” Bret said.

 

            “I know.  Do you think C.C. has something in his magic hat that will knock me out for sixteen hours or so?”

 

            Bret smiled a little.  “I’m sure he does.  Just make sure you specify that you don’t want anything snortable or injectable.”

           

            “You don’t have to worry about that.”  She cleared her throat.  “Anyway, are you sure you’re okay?  Do you need anything?”

 

            “Honey, I’m fine.  Really.  If you want to go back to the hotel and get some rest, go ahead.”

 

            “If you need anything, I’ll come back,” Julie promised.

 

            “They’re taking good care of me.  You don’t need to worry.”

 

            “We’ve been over my worrying before,” Julie replied.  “I’m going to go downstairs and call Rikki.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  She gave him a quick kiss and left.

 

§

 

            The drive back to the hotel had been a quiet one.  Julie supposed she had known all along that Rikki wouldn’t question the situation, but she was grateful for it just the same.  Now that they were back at the hotel, Julie realized that if she wanted some kind of sleeping aid, she would have to go to the band’s room and risk running into Bobby.  It was fairly obvious that he hadn’t mentioned the morning’s incident to them, and it would look strange if she refused to go up there.  Nervously, she followed Rikki into the room.

 

            Mercifully, C.C. was sitting in front of the TV messing around with his guitar and Bobby was nowhere to be seen.  “Where’s Bobby?” she asked timidly.

 

            C.C. looked up.  “No idea,” he said.  “He’s been gone for a while.  How are you doing?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I’m okay, all things considered.”

 

            “How’s Bret?”

           

            “He’ll be out on Wednesday.  He seemed pretty much fine today.”

 

            C.C. nodded.  “Yeah, I knew he would be.”  He glanced around the messy room.  “Are you crashing up here tonight?  I could clean up a little bit.”

 

            “Nah.  I’ll stick around for a little while, but I think I just need to be alone tonight.  Nothing personal.”  She paused.  “Actually, I came to ask you a favor.”

 

            C.C. grinned.  “Name it, sugar.”

 

            “I was wondering if you had anything that would knock me out until tomorrow morning,” she said bluntly.

 

            “I could hit you with my guitar.”

 

            Julie smiled a little.  “I was thinking of something a little more chemical.  We wouldn’t want to hurt your guitar.”  She paused, thinking of what Bret had said earlier.  “Preferably nothing that goes up my nose or in my veins.”

 

            C.C. snorted.  “I don’t even want to think of what your boyfriend would do if I shot you up with dope,” he said.  “Besides, fuck that shit.  Who wants to shoot downers?”

 

            “To each his own.”

 

            “Anyway, sure, I’ve got a bottle of Seconal in the bathroom.  Three of those babies should put a little thing like you down for a good long time.  Rikki, could you grab those for me?”  Rikki nodded and went to look for them.

 

            “I guess I’m not even going to ask you why you have an entire bottle of prescription barbiturates,” Julie said, sitting down on the couch.

 

            C.C. grinned.  “They’re useful after a few eightballs,” he explained.

 

            “I’m amazed you’re alive.”

 

            “Aren’t we all.”

 

            Rikki came out of the bathroom and handed Julie three red capsules and a glass of water.  She swallowed them immediately.  “Thanks.”

 

            “Those work pretty quick,” C.C. noted.  “You might want to get yourself downstairs.”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I’ll just sit here for a few minutes,” she said.  “If you don’t mind.”

 

            “Of course not,” Rikki said.  “Stay as long as you want.”

 

            “Yeah, we promise not to toilet paper you in your sleep,” C.C. promised.

 

            Julie managed a smile.  “You’re always so gracious.”

 

            “Any man who shares his Seconal is a nice man.”

 

            “And all this time I thought nice men just opened doors.”

 

            They sat in silence for a few minutes and eventually Julie felt her eyelids getting heavy.  She told herself to get up and go downstairs, but her body didn’t seem to want to listen to her.  As her eyes closed, she heard Rikki say, “I’ll put her in bed.”

 

§

 

            Julie forced her eyes open to see who was shaking her.  After a moment, her vision became less blurry and she saw that it was Rikki who was sitting next to her on the bed.  It felt as though she was moving through water, and her body ached.  “Rikki?” she said groggily.  “How long have I been asleep?”

 

            “Fifteen hours,” he said.  “I’m really sorry to wake you up.”

 

            Julie forced herself to sit up and yawned.  “It’s okay.  I didn’t mean to fall asleep up here, I’m sorry.”

 

            “It’s fine,” Rikki replied.  “Don’t worry about it.  Actually, though, we need your help.”

 

            She tried to force some more of the sleepiness away.  “What’s wrong?”

 

            “Well, you were probably already expecting this, but the press got a hold of what happened with Bret.  They’re outside our door right now, and they’re not going to leave until they get a statement.”

 

            Julie frowned.  “They want to talk to me?”

 

            Rikki nodded.  “They know you’re the only one who’s seen him since he went in, and besides, I suppose it’s ‘touching’ or something.”

 

            “I feel like I took a hundred of those pills last night,” Julie said, stretching.  “Do they ever wear off?”

 

            “Maybe you should have only taken two,” Rikki said.  “Do you think you’re with it enough to give them a statement?”

 

            “I suppose I have to be.  Just let me go freshen up a little bit.”  She reluctantly pulled herself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, and cursed herself for not making it back to her own room to go to sleep.  She was going to have to face these people disheveled and in yesterday’s clothes; at least she had her purse.  Hurriedly, she applied makeup and smoothed out her hair as best she could, then went into the living room.

 

            Rikki and C.C. were sitting in two of the chairs, but Bobby wasn’t in the room.  “He didn’t come back last night?” Julie asked.

 

            “He was here for a little while, but then he ran off again.  I have no idea what’s going on with him,” Rikki replied.

 

            “He’s just a moody bastard,” C.C. offered.

 

            “Well, whatever.  Let’s do this, I guess.”

 

            “You sure?”

 

            “I’d hate to see how the media would butcher this story if no one said anything official.”  Julie sat down on the couch and Rikki opened the door to the hallway.  Immediately, the room filled with various reporters toting cameras and microphones, and Julie recoiled.  She’d never had to talk to the press without Bret before.

 

            They all started talking at once, and Julie remained quiet, uncertain of who to answer first.  Mercifully, C.C.’s loud voice quickly took over.  “All right,” he said firmly.  “Julie will answer your questions as long as they are asked in a calm and organized manner, and as long as she’s comfortable answering them.  So don’t be assholes, or you’re leaving.”

 

            “Miss Kinsington,” said a woman in the front, “it is true that Bret Michaels was admitted to the hospital two days ago, is that correct?”

 

            “Yes,” Julie said.  “He was taken in on Sunday evening.”

 

            “Is it true that this incident was drug-related?” asked someone else.

 

            Julie blinked.  “Absolutely not!” she said emphatically.  “Bret no longer uses illicit drugs.”  Usually, she thought to herself.

 

            “Why was he taken to the hospital?”

 

            “A complication arose with his diabetes,” Julie answered simply.

 

            “Isn’t it true that using drugs would further exacerbate his illness?” asked someone in the back.

 

            Julie faltered a little.  “Well, yes,” she said, “but like I said, Bret no longer uses illicit drugs, so that is a non-issue.”

 

            “How long will Mr. Michaels be in the hospital, and will he make a full recovery?”

 

            “He will be released tomorrow, and yes, he is completely fine now.”

 

            “What are your plans for the immediate future?”

 

            “We plan to leave Seattle and return home tomorrow.”

 

            “How are things between you and Bret?”

 

            Julie hesitated.  “Bret and I… couldn’t be happier.”  She thanked some higher power that Bobby hadn’t been in the room to hear that.

 

            “What are you plans for the future?”

 

            “Well,” Julie began, uncertain of how to proceed, “with everything that’s been going on lately – the tour, and Bret’s illness, I…” she trailed off.

 

            C.C. cut in.  “I think that’s enough questions,” he said.  “You’re here to ascertain that our lead singer isn’t hopped up on smack, not talk about his love life.”  He stood up and began nudging them in the direction of the door.  With some moderate protesting, they left.

 

            “I’m sorry you had to do that,” Rikki said.

 

            Julie yawned.  “It’s okay,” she said.  “Now let’s just hope they don’t somehow butcher anything I’ve said.”

 

            “They will,” C.C. promised.  “How did those pills work out for you last night?”

 

            “They appear to still be working,” she replied.  “I don’t think I’ve ever slept that hard in my life.”

 

            “Ah, barbiturates.”

 

            “Well, boys, unless you need my assistance in another matter, I think I’m going to head downstairs and try to wake up.”

 

            “I’ve got stuff for that, too,” C.C. offered.

 

            “I think I’ll pass.” 

 

            “Well, sweetie, if you need anything, we’ll be up here,” Rikki said.

 

           

§

 

            Julie awoke to knocking on the hotel room door, and for a few minutes she just stayed where she was, half-hoping that whoever was at the door would just go away.  She still felt terrible, and she felt even more terrible now.  She’d spent the remainder of the previous day doing very little, and hadn’t even gone to see Bret.  She had called him and explained that the Seconal had really affected her and that she just couldn’t motivate herself to move, which wasn’t entirely a lie, but it was still no excuse to not visit her hospitalized boyfriend.  She had also tried to contact Sebastian at his hotel, but was told he’d checked out, much as she’d expected.  Afterwards, she found herself somewhat glad that he wasn’t there, because she had no idea what to say to him, anyway.  Perhaps it really was for the best that he’d left, although she was angry and admittedly somewhat hurt.  The knock on the door came again and Julie sighed inwardly.  “Yeah?” she called out.

 

            “It’s Rikki.”

 

            “Oh.  Come on in.”

 

            He came into the room. “I’m sorry to wake you.”

 

            “It’s all right.  Sorry I didn’t answer sooner.  I thought you might be the maid.”

 

            “Don’t worry about it.  I just wanted to let you know that C.C. went to pick Bret up from the hospital.  They should be back in a bit.”

 

            “Shit,” Julie said.  “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

 

            “When we called Bret, he said not to.  He said you’d been awfully tired and he didn’t want you disturbed.”

 

            Fresh guilt welled up in Julie.  “What time is it?” she asked, for lack of anything better to say.

 

            “Noon,” Rikki said.  “We’re on the 2:30 flight out of here.”

 

            “Good thing I packed yesterday, then.”

 

            “You need anything?”

 

            Julie shook her head.  “No, I’m all right.  Thanks for getting me up, though.”

 

            “No problem.  I’ll see you when we leave.”  Rikki left the room.

 

            Julie flopped back down on the bed, still not quite having the motivation to get up and go through the motions of getting ready to leave.  The memory of Sunday night played itself over and over in her head, and it made her cringe every time.  Being with Sebastian had been an exquisite experience, more than she imagined it would be, but the guilt for what she’d done was just as intense as the experience had been.  Part of her wanted to confess the act to Bret, let it spill out of her so that at least she didn’t have to carry the weight of it secretly, but she knew that she couldn’t. 

 

            A few minutes later, Julie heard the hotel room door open and kept her eyes closed.

 

            “You awake, gorgeous?”

 

            Julie forced herself to roll over and smile at Bret.  “Hiya, sexy.”

 

            “Did I wake you?”

 

            “Nah, Rikki came down and woke me up a few minutes ago.  I’m so sorry I didn’t come with C.C. to get you, but no one woke me.”

 

            “As per my express orders,” Bret replied, and crawled onto the bed to lay next to her.  “I hear C.C.’s sleeping pills knocked you down pretty hard.”

 

            Julie nodded.  “I felt like I was sleepwalking all day yesterday.  They did the job, though.”

 

            “I also heard you had to talk to the press yesterday.”

 

            “Yeah.  I hope I did an okay job with that.”

 

            “C.C. and Rikki said you couldn’t have been better.  I’m sorry you had to do that.  They’re like vultures,” Bret said.

 

            “It’s okay,” Julie replied.  “Besides, if I hadn’t done it, they would have continued to think that you were in the hospital overdosing.”  She paused.  “Which isn’t to say that they don’t still think that.”

 

            “They do.  If a member of the press sees one of us at the grocery story buying eggs, they’d print a piece about how only junkies buy eggs.”  He chuckled.

 

            Julie smiled.  “Are you feeling better?”

 

            Bret raised an eyebrow.  “I hope I look better than I did a few days ago.”

 

            “Of course you do.  I’m just worried about you.”

 

            Bret sighed.  “Julie, I have to admit, you had something to worry about on Sunday night, but I’m fine now.  I promise.”

 

            “Good.  Then we can go home, right?”

 

            Bret glanced at the clock.  “We can leave for the airport in an hour.  You all packed?”

 

            Julie nodded.  “I managed to drag myself through that task yesterday, somehow.  Remind me never to take three Seconal again.”

 

            Bret grinned.  “I’m willing to bet that C.C. knew damn well you didn’t need that much.”

 

            “Well, it didn’t kill me, so I guess I’ll let it slide.”  They were quiet for a minute.  “The hour before we get to go home always seems so long.”

 

            Bret moved so that he was above her, his face close to hers.  “I can think of something we could do to pass the time.”

 

§

 

            Julie sat in her bedroom staring out the window at the rain that had been falling for days.  Time absolutely flew when she and Bret were at home; she could hardly believe they’d been back for over a month already.  Things had been okay for the most part; every day that had gone by without a word from Sebastian made Julie able to suppress her guilt a bit more.  Nothing could negate the severity of her actions, but it was getting easier to just allow herself to be wrapped up in being at home with Bret. 

 

            However, Julie thought, nothing could ever be perfect.  There was always something impossible to deal with, and this night was no exception. 

 

            “Hey, dollface.”

 

            Julie turned away from watching the rain.  “Hi,” she said weakly.

 

            “You’ve been sitting at that window all night,” Bret said.  “Penny for your thoughts?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I think this one’s worth a lot more than a penny.”

 

            Bret entered the room fully and sat on the edge of the bed.  “Something bothering you?”

 

            “Is it that obvious?”

 

            “Well, I know you’ve always liked the rain, but this is overkill, don’t you think?”

 

            Julie turned back to the window.  “What do you think is the worst thing I could possibly tell you?”

 

            Bret was quiet for a minute.  “That you’re really a man.”

 

            Julie didn’t laugh.  “I think this might be worse than that.”

 

            “Okay, you’re starting to scare me now.  What’s going on?”

 

            She took a deep breath.  “I’m late.”

 

            “You’re late?  What do you...” Bret trailed off and remained silent for a long moment.  “How late?”

 

            “A week,” Julie replied.  “That may not sound like much, but I’ve always been… I mean…” Even after seven months together, she found it weird to discuss such matters with him.

 

            “Fuck,” Bret said.  “Julie… fuck.”

 

            She turned back to him.  “You’ve never been in this situation before?”

 

            “Ironically enough, no.”  He hesitated.  “I mean, no one ever stuck around that long… so no.”

 

            “Yeah, well, me neither.”

 

            “Okay, so what do we do?”

 

            “We take a test.”  She paused.  “Well, I mean, I do.  I already got one.  I just haven’t gotten up the nerve to take it yet.  And I thought I should wait until I told you, anyway.”

 

            Bret nodded.  “Okay, well, do you want to do that now?”  He didn’t seem to know what to say.

 

            Julie stood up.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I guess we might as well get it over with.”  She walked over to the door.  “I guess you can just wait here.”

 

            “Okay.”  Julie couldn’t remember a time when she’d seen Bret look quite so nervous.

 

            “It’ll only take a few minutes.”  She left the room and went into the bathroom, where she had the test stuffed into a box of tampons.  She laughed nervously at the irony of her hiding place as she opened the package.  Trying not to think about the possible outcomes, Julie followed the instructions then replaced the cap on the test and set it on the counter.  The folded pamphlet in the box was easy enough to understand – one pink line, no baby.  Two pink lines, baby.  She went through the motions of washing her hand and stared at her reflection in the mirror.  The face that gazed back at her looked scared.

 

            After a few minutes of contemplating her face in the mirror, Julie forced herself to look at the test results.  When she saw the two little pink lines, she swallowed hard, and realized that somewhere in her head, she’d known the answer was yes all along.  She chucked the test in the trash and went back into her bedroom.

 

            Bret was sitting in front of the window where Julie had previously been, and he looked at her when she came in.  “Well?”

 

            Julie took a deep breath.  “What do you think we should do about it?”

 

            Bret looked at her for a long moment as he realized the meaning of her question.  For a long moment, he didn’t speak.  Then he sighed.  “I have no fucking idea what we should do about it.”

 

            “I was afraid you’d say that.”

 

            “I mean, Jules…” He hesitated.  “Don’t you think this relationship is fucked up enough without introducing someone else to it?”

 

            Julie nearly choked on her own spit.  If he only knew.  She cleared her throat.  “Yes,” she said.  “But I think it’s safe to assume that at this point, whether or not we… ‘introduce someone else into it’… this relationship just got a lot more fucked up.”

 

            Bret ran a hand through his hair.  “Jesus fuck.”  He stood up and began pacing a small area of the room nervously.  “Julie, I have no idea what to say.  I really don’t.  I’m still not sure how to be a boyfriend, much less a father.”

 

            “Are you saying you want me to get rid of it?”

 

            “No!”  He frowned.  “Fuck, I don’t know.  I have no idea what I’m saying.”

 

            Julie sat at the edge of the bed.  “I really hope you don’t expect me to figure this one out on my own.”

 

            “Of course I don’t,” Bret said.  He sighed again.  “I just hope you don’t expect me to have any idea what to do.”

 

            Julie sighed in response.  “I don’t,” she said. 

 

            Bret sat down next to her.  “This is more your decision than it is mine.  What do you think?”

 

            “I have no idea,” Julie replied.   “I really don’t.”

 

            “Do you think that maybe you’re too young?”

 

            She snorted.  “I’m too young for a lot of things.  I’m too young to be the entertainment committee at my father’s parties.  I’m too young to babysit two rock stars for a month.  I’m definitely too young to be your girlfriend.  My age has nothing to do with it.”

 

            “Yeah.  You’re right.”  He paused.  “Do you want to have it?”

 

            “I don’t know.  I mean, I certainly never said to myself, ‘Gee, you know what I need?  A kid.’”  She paused.  “But I really don’t know if I’m capable of making any other choice.  That probably sounds really weak of me, but…”

 

            Bret shook his head.  “It doesn’t sound weak,” he said.  “I don’t know if I could go through with that, either.  I mean, you know, that I’d want you to.  That sounds weak.”

 

            Julie smiled a little.  “Actually, it’s kind of nice to hear you say that.  I thought you might want me to do that.”

 

            “No.  I don’t think I want you to.”

 

            Julie looked at him.  “You don’t?”

 

            Bret took a breath.  “No.  I mean, this might not exactly be the most ideal situation, but…”  He trailed off.

 

            “Wouldn’t it be too much for you?”

 

            “I don’t know.  I mean, yeah, it would be hard, but hasn’t everything been hard?”

 

            “Well, yes, but don’t you think this is just a little harder?”

           

            “Yeah, it is, but it’s better than the alternative.”  He hesitated.  “And besides, I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather have a baby with.”

 

            Julie flinched at his words, but did her best to hide it.  As guilty as she felt, it was nice to hear someone say that.  “I thought you’d want me to get rid of it,” she said quietly.

 

            “If you would have asked me six or seven months ago, I probably would have wanted you to get rid of it,” he replied.  “Things are different now.”  He put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

 

            “Are you sure about this?”

 

            “As sure as I’ve been about anything we’ve done,” Bret said.

 

            Julie smiled a little.  “That’s not very sure.”

 

            “Hey, it’s been sure enough so far, hasn’t it?”

 

            Julie leaned against him.  “Yeah, I guess it has.”

 

            Bret put his hand on her stomach.  “Maybe this will be good for me,” he said.

 

            “How so?”

 

            “I don’t know.  Maybe I’ll grow up a little bit.”

 

            Julie laughed.  “You’re going to have to.  I’m already a mother of four.”

 

            “Hey, we’re not that bad!”

           

            “Haven’t you ever heard me have to tell C.C. that yes, it is a bad idea to eat pizza that you find under a couch cushion?”

 

            “We’re glad when he’s sober enough to eat at all.”

 

            “I think you just clarified my point.”

 

            “Okay, fine.  Fair enough.  But the boys will just have to get a new nanny.  I’m taking you off duty.”

 

            “I’m not out of commission,” Julie replied.  “I’m not that pregnant yet.”

 

            “How pregnant do you have to be before I’m allowed to baby you?”

 

            Julie grinned.  “Well, if you put it that way.”

           

            “Seriously,” Bret said, “I have no idea how to act or anything.”

 

            “You don’t have to act any certain way.”

 

            “Well, I mean, what am I supposed to do?  Do you need anything?”

 

            “Honey, I’m fine.  Really.  I still have use of my legs and everything.”

 

            “Hey, you don’t have to make fun of me.  I’ve never been pregnant before.”

 

            “And hopefully you never will be,” Julie retorted.  “Anyway, neither have I, so I guess we’ll both just have to play this by ear.”

 

            “Well, I must warn you that I’m likely to fuck up somehow.”

 

            Julie had to bite back a sudden urge to tell Bret the whole twisted story.  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying her best to sound normal. 

 

            “Jules, what about your dad?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “I don’t even want to think about my father,” she said.  “And luckily, I don’t have to yet.  He won’t be back for at least another two weeks.”

 

            “You’re right.  Let’s just take one thing at a time, I guess.”

 

            “Good call.”  She yawned.

 

            “Tired?”

 

            She nodded.  “Yeah.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m pregnant or because I’m so worried about being pregnant.”

 

            “Maybe it’s because it’s the middle of the night,” Bret offered.

 

            “That, too.  Let’s go to bed.”

 

§

 

            Julie staggered out of the bathroom and collapsed into bed next to Bret, breathing heavily.

 

            Bret looked at her, concerned.  “Are you okay?”

 

            “I’m fine,” she said, although she still felt like hell.  “I guess this is morning sickness.”  She glanced at the clock.  “Afternoon sickness.  Whatever.”

 

            “Can I get you anything?”

 

            “No, I’m okay.  We should probably make an appointment with a doctor, though.”

 

            Bret nodded.  “Absolutely.”  He paused.  “I thought we’d tell the guys tonight.”

 

            Julie blinked.  “Already?”  In reality, she didn’t want to tell the band at all; at least, not Bobby.

 

            “Sure,” Bret said.  “Aren’t you excited?”

 

            She looked at him, and his happiness was clearly written on his face.  “Of course I am,” she said after a moment.  “Yeah, give them a call.  I’ll go get dressed.”

 

            “Are you sure?  I don’t have to.”

 

            “No, it’s okay.  I’m sure their reaction will be priceless.”  She gave him a quick kiss and climbed out of bed. 

 

            Bret reached for the phone and punched a few numbers in.  “It’s Bret,” he said into the receiver.  “Yeah, everything’s fine.  Listen, get Bobby and C.C. and come over.”  Julie grabbed some clothes from the closet and listened.  “No, seriously, nothing’s wrong.  But it’s important, so hurry up.”  Julie bit her lip.  “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.”  He hung up the phone.  “They’ll be here soon.”

 

            Julie forced a smile.  “Great.  Do you want to make some coffee or something while I get dressed?”

 

            “Fuck coffee.  Your dad has champagne, right?”

 

            “Of course.”

 

            “News like this deserves more than coffee,” Bret said, getting out of bed.  He looked at her.  “You don’t look too thrilled.”

 

            “I’m sorry.  It’s just my stomach,” Julie said, only half-lying.  Her stomach did feel horrible, but she guessed that was only partially due to morning sickness.  “I’ll be fine, really.”

 

            Bret grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet and pulled them on.  “All right,” he said.  “I’ll see you downstairs.  If you need me, just yell.”

 

            Julie mechanically went through the motions of getting dressed and making herself look presentable.  By all accounts, pregnancy and motherhood were supposed to be the most incredible achievements in a woman’s life, but she wasn’t feeling very incredible.  More than anything, she found herself missing her own mother. 

 

            She fought back tears as she ran a brush through her hair.  Luckily, she thought offhandedly, bursting into tears at random probably wasn’t very unusual for newly pregnant women.  Julie wasn’t sure if she could go through the rest of her life with the secret fear that this baby wasn’t even Bret’s.  Part of her wasn’t even sure if she could go through the rest of her life—

           

            “Jules?  You okay?” Bret called up the stairs.

 

            “I’m fine,” she called back.  “I’m on my way down.”  She put the brush down and slowly made her way downstairs and into the living room, where Bret had a bottle of champagne in ice.  “Sorry I took so long.”

 

            “It’s okay,” Bret said.  “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

 

            His kindness made Julie’s position even more difficult.  Part of her wanted to tell him the truth just so that he would stop being so nice to her when she didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t even begin to comprehend how devastated he’d be.  He seemed so genuinely happy about all of this, which had come as a total surprise.  She thought he’d hate the idea of having a child.  She forced herself to stop thinking.  “I’m fine,” she said.  “Just tired.”

 

            The front door swung open and the rest of the band walked in.  Julie gave everyone hugs, and didn’t look Bobby in the eye when he half-heartedly put his arms around her.  When she hugged Rikki, the last one in the door, she held on a little longer than necessary.  He looked down at her and said, too low for anyone else to hear, “You okay, kiddo?”

 

            She looked up at him.  Rikki had always been the brotherly sweetheart of the band, always ready with an open ear and he never took sides.  Julie desperately wanted to just drag him outside and confess the whole story to him, but she knew she couldn’t.  She forced a smile.  “Sure, I’m fine.”  She released her grip on him.  “Just missed you,” she added, and that part wasn’t a lie. 

 

            “What’s the champagne for?”  C.C. asked, eyeing the bottle.

 

            Bret grinned.  “I have some good news.”

 

            Rikki grinned back.  “Are you two getting married?”

 

            Julie and Bret exchanged a glance.  “Maybe we will,” Bret said, and Julie took a deep breath.  “But that’s not what this celebration is about.”

 

            “Did you convince her to get your name tattooed on her ass?” C.C. guessed.

 

            “There wouldn’t be any room for yours if I did that,” Julie retorted.

 

            “You’ve got two cheeks.”

 

            “All right, enough,” Bret said, laughing.  “Honey, do you want to tell them?”

 

            Julie felt herself flush.  “No, go ahead,” she said, looking at him to avoid looking at anyone else.

 

            “Well,” Bret said, practically glowing, “I guess there’s no clever way to put it.  Julie and I are going to have a baby.”

 

            For a moment, there was stunned silence in the room.  Julie still didn’t turn her eyes from Bret. 

 

            “Well, hell!” Rikki said finally.  “That IS cause for celebration!”

 

            “Fucking A!” C.C. chimed in.  “You’re going to be all FAT!”

 

            Bret laughed.  “She’ll still be beautiful.”

 

            Julie did her best to smile.  “We’ll see how you feel about that in a few months.”

 

            “We’ll see what you call him when you’re in labor,” Rikki joked.

 

            Bret laughed, then noticed that Bobby was silent.  “Hey, Bobby,” he said, “why the long face?”

 

            Bobby stood up straighter and cleared his throat.  “I’m just not sure I’m as excited about this as you guys are,” he said stiffly.

 

            Julie felt the pit of her stomach twist into a knot.  She tried to think of something to say in order to create a diversion, but came up blank.

 

            “What do you mean?” Bret asked, frowning.

 

            “Well,” Bobby replied coolly, putting his cigarette out, “I’d be a lot more inclined to congratulate you, Bret, if I was certain this was your baby.”

 

            Julie felt her knees go weak and slid down the wall onto the carpet.  Bret stared at Bobby for a minute, disbelieving, then turned to Julie.  “Are you all right?” 

 

            Julie looked up at him.  He looked genuinely concerned, and she realized he hadn’t yet really realized what Bobby had just said to him.   She considered saying no, making something up,  even going to the hospital to keep this conversation from happening.  Instead, she just nodded.

 

            Bret looked at her for another minute and turned back to Bobby.  “What did you say?”

 

            “I’ll assume you don’t actually want me to repeat myself, but that you want an explanation.”  Bobby’s voice was cold.

 

            “What’s going on?” Rikki chimed in, sensing the discomfort in the room.  Julie stole a glance at him, but Bobby and Bret were staring at each other, and C.C. was watching them like a tennis match.

 

            “Well, Bret,” Bobby continued, “you know how much we all love Julie.  Don’t we, guys?”  Julie could feel his eyes on her, although she didn’t look up.

 

            “Of course we do,” Rikki put in, but no one else spoke.

 

            “Bobby, what the fuck are you on about?” Bret said, getting annoyed.  “You’d better have a good reason for trying to ruin such an important night.”

 

            “Oh, believe me,” Bobby said, “I doubt there’s a better reason.  I probably should have brought this up sooner, but really, what better time?”

 

            “Bobby…” Rikki put in weakly.

 

            “The night that you went into the hospital was a pretty dramatic night for all of us,” Bobby continued, ignoring Rikki.  “Everyone was worried about you, and everyone was, of course, worried about poor Julie.  It’s a good thing you had Baz stay with her.”  He smiled a little.  “But of course, that didn’t stop any of us from worrying, so the next morning, I came down personally, just to make sure she was okay.  And what do I find, but the two of them, just as cozy as you please, in bed together?”

 

            “There’s only one bed in the room,” Rikki put in.  Julie glanced up at him and met his eyes for a second, and tried to look grateful for his attempts, even if they were utterly worthless.

 

            Bobby glanced at Rikki.  “That doesn’t mean they had to take off their clothes to sleep in it.”

 

            The surprise in the room could be plainly felt.  Julie forced herself to look around the room.  Rikki was looking at Bobby, clearly shocked.  C.C was staring at the floor, and Bobby was watching Bret’s reaction.  She finally turned to look at Bret, who turned slowly to face her.

 

            “Julie,” he said evenly, “Is that true?”

 

            Julie bit her lip.  “I…”  She had no idea how to respond to that, especially with four pairs of ears hanging on her every word.  She knew the expression on her face would give Bret the answer to his question, anyway. 

 

            Bret’s face slowly melted into a picture of perfect devastation.  It killed Julie to look at him, and she turned away, waiting for someone to speak.  No one did.  She looked up a little and watched Bret’s feet as he got up from the couch and silently walked out of the house. 

 

            One by one, she watched three other pairs of feet follow Bret’s.  Bobby laughed on his way out.  Rikki turned, and Julie met his gaze for just a second before he looked away and left.

 

            For a long time, Julie stayed where she was on the carpet, staring at the floor, not quite sure what to do next.  She supposed there weren’t really many options, and so just stayed where she was, not really thinking or feeling anything.  After what was probably several hours, the phone rang, jarring her.  For a minute, she just watched it ring, then reached over and picked it up.  “Hello,” she said flatly.

 

            “Jule?  That you?”

 

            Julie closed her eyes.  “Yes, Sebastian, it’s me.  Has anyone ever told you that your timing is unbelievable?”

 

            “Am I interrupting something?  If I am, tell Bret I said hi.”

 

            “No, you aren’t.  There’s not much to interrupt over here,” Julie said dryly.  “To what do I owe the honor, Sebastian?”

 

            “You don’t sound well, Julie.”  There was a hint of concern in his voice.

 

            “I’ve been better.  What do you want?”

 

            “I was hoping I could come over and we could talk, actually.”

 

            “What are you doing in town?”

 

            “Visiting you,” he said hopefully.

 

            Julie sighed.  “Sebastian… I’m going to let you come over—“

 

            “I can be there in fifteen.”

 

            “Let me finish.  I’m going to let you come over, and we can talk, but I doubt you’ll like what gets said.”

 

            “I’ll be the judge of that.  Are you okay, Jule?”

 

            “No, Sebastian.  No, I’m really not okay.”  Without waiting for a response, she hung up the phone.

 

§

 

            Julie was still sitting on the floor when she heard the front door open, and she looked up enough to watch Sebastian’s long legs coming toward her.   He extended a hand, and she looked at it for a moment before accepting it and standing up. 

 

            “What’s going on, doll?” Sebastian asked softly.  He pulled her against him.

 

            For just a few seconds, Julie relaxed against him, breathing in his scent.  Then she pulled away and walked towards the kitchen, where she stood in front of the sink, not looking at him.

 

            “Julie?  What’s wrong?”

 

            Julie closed her eyes.  “I’m pregnant, Sebastian,” she said, not even trying to sugarcoat the news.

 

            Sebastian was quiet for a minute.  “Well, shit,” he said in a strained voice, “where’s that bastard Bret?  Sounds like congratulations are in order.”

 

            Julie turned and looked at him.  “You do realize that you may very well be congratulating yourself, Sebastian.”  She watched the realization settle over his face before continuing.  “As for where Bret is, I have no idea.  He wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear that he might not be the father.”

 

            Sebastian grabbed a bottle of Absolut from the counter and took a long swallow.  “And where did he get that idea?”  He sat down heavily at the table.

 

            “Bobby,” Julie replied flatly.

 

            Sebastian shook his head a few times, back and forth.  “How the… what happened?”

 

            “Well,” Julie said, sitting across from him, “We found out I was pregnant yesterday, and for some perverse reason, Bret was very happy about this news.  So of course he immediately wanted to tell the guys, and when they all found out tonight, Bobby sort of crashed the party.”

 

            “You’re telling me that Bobby just came out with the fact that we… right in the middle of the celebration?”  Sebastian took another deep swallow from the bottle of vodka.

 

            “Yep,” Julie said.  “And after that, everybody just sort of… left.”

 

            “Did Bret say anything?”

 

            “No.  What could he say, I guess.”

 

            “Jesus.  Are you okay?”

 

            “Of course I’m not okay.”  She hesitated.  “Sebastian, what if he doesn’t come back?”

 

            Sebastian cleared his throat.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  It’s Bret.  Of course he’ll come back.”

 

            “But what if he doesn’t?” Julie insisted.

 

            Sebastian took another sip from the bottle and looked at Julie for a long moment.  “Well,” he said finally, “first of all, he’ll come back.  But, in the unlikely event that he doesn’t… well, I’d have no fucking idea what I’d be doing, but I’ll be here for you, in whatever capacity you need me to be.”

 

            Julie looked away.  “I don’t know,” she said.  “I don’t think I could do that.”

 

            “Do what?”

 

            “You know,” she replied.  “Have an abortion.  I don’t know if I could.” 

 

            “I wasn’t necessarily talking about that,” Sebastian said.  He sounded a bit hurt.

 

            “Oh,” Julie said.  “I’m sorry.  I mean, I just assumed that’s what you would do.”

 

            “It is what I’d do,” Sebastian agreed.  “But I think we’ve proven that you’re the exception that makes every rule.”

 

            Julie met his gaze, and just then, the front door banged open.  “Jules?” came Bret’s voice. 

 

            “Fuck,” Julie said to no one in particular.  She stood up, and Sebastian followed her lead.

 

            Bret came into the kitchen.  “Julie, we have to—“  He stopped when he saw Sebastian.  “What the fuck are you doing here?”  Without waiting for a response, he crossed the room in quick strides and punched Sebastian square in the face.

 

            Sebastian stumbled backwards a few steps and brought a hand to his face, holding the other one out in front of himself.  Bret was about to hit him again when he said, “Okay, I deserved that.”

 

            Bret stopped and pulled his hand down.  “I’m glad you can admit that,” he said stiffly.

 

            Sebastian stood up straight and rubbed at his face.  “If you want to hit me again, go ahead.”

 

            Bret sighed.  “I’m not going to fucking hit you again,” he said.  “Although god knows I should.”

 

            “I don’t think fighting is going to solve anything, anyway,” Julie put in quietly.

 

            Bret turned to face her.  “Julie,” he said, “right now I am so angry with you that I’m surprised I’m standing here.”  The calm in his voice was eery, Julie thought.  “What is it you suggest we do, exactly, if not fight?”

 

            “She’s right, man,” Sebastian said.  “We can beat the shit out of each other, maybe hit the pregnant girl for good measure, but what good is that going to do us?”

 

            Bret frowned.  “All right, fine,” he said.  “You have a point.  And anyway, I guess we should prioritize.  Our first priority should be to find out just whose baby this is.”

 

            “We can do that in the morning,” Julie put in.  “First thing.”

 

            “Yeah,” Bret said, and looked at Sebastian.  “You, meanwhile, aren’t leaving my fucking sight.  You have a knack for running when things get touchy.”

 

            “I’m here now, aren’t I?” Sebastian countered.

 

            “Don’t fucking start with me,” Bret growled.  “I’m sure neither one of us is going to sleep, so grab your bottle and we’ll stay in the living room tonight.”

 

            Julie’s stomach flipped over when she heard Bret say that he wasn’t going to sleep with her, but she supposed that was par for the course and that she should be lucky he’d even come back.  “I guess I’ll sleep in my father’s room,” she said.  “Or not sleep, anyway.  So, um… if anyone needs me…” She trailed off.

 

            “Set your alarm for 9am,” Bret instructed.  “If we’re passed out, wake us up.”

 

            “Okay.”

 

            “Don’t expect me to tuck you in,” Bret said, and walked out.

 

            Sebastian turned to her.  “You know I’d rather be upstairs with you.”

 

            Julie didn’t look at him.  “I know,” she said.  “That wouldn’t be very wise.”

 

            “Yeah,” he said.  “But if you’re not okay alone up there, come and get me.  I don’t care what he does.”

 

            Julie forced herself to look at him.  “Thanks.”

 

§

 

            The waiting room was practically empty while they waited for the doctor to call them back in.  Julie had spent a long time with the doctor, who had examined her thoroughly and stuck her with needles, while she accepted the examination numbly.  Bret and Sebastian had met with him privately, and none of them spoke as they waited.

 

            Finally, the doctor appeared and motioned for them to follow him into his office, where they sat.  “Well, Miss Kinsington,” he began, “first I should tell you that so far, your baby is perfectly normal and healthy.  As per the request of these gentleman, we did just about every test possible, and everything seems just fine.”

 

            “Thank you,” Julie said quietly.

 

            “You’re welcome.  Now, I have to ask you what might be an uncomfortable question, but I’m afraid I really don’t have a choice in the matter.”

 

            “What is it?”

 

            “Is it possible that anyone besides these two gentlemen could be the father of your baby?”

 

            “What?  No, of course not!” Julie said.  “There must be some mistake.”

 

            “I’m afraid not,” the doctor replied.  “These tests are accurate.”

 

            Julie looked first at Sebastian, who was staring intently at the floor, and then at Bret.  She had never seen rage in his eyes the way she did on this morning.  “Jesus fucking Christ, Julie,” he spat out.  “What the fuck have I been doing for the past eight months?”  He rose to his feet and began to leave, then turned out the doorway.  “Actually, I guess the question should be, who have you been doing?”  He left.

 

            For a moment, Julie sat in stunned silence, then looked at Sebastian, unsure of what to say.  He looked back at her, then turned back to the doctor.  “Listen,” he said, “if the lady says there’s a mistake here, then there’s a mistake here.  Julie isn’t a liar.”

 

            The doctor shifted his weight uncomfortably.  “I’m not trying to insult anyone,” he said carefully.  “I can do the tests again, if you’d like.”

 

            “Yes, we would,” Sebastian said firmly. 

 

            “Very well.  I’ll be here for the rest of the day.”  He paused, scribbling something on a prescription pad.  “I’m prescribing a mild sedative, Miss Kinsington, just in case you need it.  You can fill this right at the pharmacy in the building.  It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

 

            Julie took the paper.  “Thank you.”

 

“We’ll be back shortly,” Sebastian said.  “Julie, come on.”  He rose to his feet.

 

            Julie rose mechanically and followed Sebastian downstairs.  They remained silent while they filled Julie’s prescriptions, then went outside.  She didn’t speak until they had been driving for a while.  “Where are we going?”

 

            “Rikki’s house,” Sebastian said. 

 

            “Why?” Julie asked, although Rikki’s house didn’t sound like a bad idea.

 

            “Because it’s the only place I can think of that Bret would go right now.”

 

            Julie swallowed.  “Sebastian,” she began uncertainly, “I wasn’t lying in there.”

 

            He looked at her, then back at the road.  “I know you weren’t,” he said after a minute. 

 

            “Do you really believe me?”

 

            He swallowed.  “Yes, I do.  I don’t know what the hell is going on, but yes, I believe you.”

 

            Julie watched Sebastian closely as they drove the rest of the short distance to the house Rikki had rented.  She couldn’t quite decide what emotions he was feeling, and all she really felt at the moment was amazement at how well he was taking this whole situation.  Normally, by now, Sebastian would have taken off as quickly as he could, not to be heard from for months. 

 

            They pulled into Rikki’s driveway and Sebastian turned the car off.  He turned to Julie.  “Can you handle whatever’s about to happen, or do you want me to go in by myself?”

 

            Julie took a deep breath, wishing she could tell him to go in alone.  “No,” she said.  “I’ll go in.  This isn’t your mess.”  She paused.  “Well, it isn’t just your mess, anyway.”

 

            They made their way to the front door and stood on the step for a minute listening to the yelling coming from within. 

 

            “I can’t fucking believe this!  I really thought that girl was different!” Bret was yelling.  “Now I find out she’s been fucking god knows how many other guys!”

 

            “This isn’t going to be pretty,” Sebastian warned, and pushed the front door open.  Somewhere in the back of her head, Julie had the thought that rock stars didn’t lock their doors as often as they should.

 

            Rikki was sitting on the couch and looked up at them when they came in. “Hi,” he said quietly.

 

            Bret turned around.  “Oh, what a total surprise that you two are here together,” he said coldly.  “Bring any other friends, Julie?”

 

            Julie looked at the floor and bit her lip, doing her best not to cry.

 

            “Look,” Sebastian said evenly, “calm down, Bret.  Screaming at her isn’t going to change anything.”

 

            “When the fuck did you become Mother fucking Theresa?”

 

            Sebastian ignored his comment.  “If Julie says she didn’t do anything else, then she didn’t do anything else,” he said.

 

            Bret laughed in an unamused way.  “What the hell are you talking about, Baz?  Has it not occurred to you that she must have slippery morals in order to have slept with you?  Why not someone else, too?”

 

            Sebastian hesitated, but only for a second.  “Because I love her,” he said finally.  “And I believe her.”

 

            Bret just started at him mutely for a minute.  “Because you love her,” he repeated, and Julie couldn’t quite make out the emotion in his tone. 

 

            “Yes, I do,” Sebastian replied, “and I have no idea what could have happened, but if she says she didn’t sleep with anyone else, then as far as I’m concerned, she didn’t.”

 

            “What the fuck is the matter with you?!” Bret said, furious.  “Think about what you’re-“

 

            “Wait,” Rikki interjected.  It wasn’t like him to interrupt, or get involved in a fight, so three pairs of eyes turned on him.

 

            “What?” Sebastian asked.

 

            “I just thought of something,” Rikki said.  “I swear, this never occurred to me until right now, guys.”  He took a breath and looked at Bret.  “Do you remember when you were in the hospital-“

 

            “How could I forget,” Bret said flatly.

 

            “Do you remember when you were in the hospital,” Rikki continued, undaunted, “and C.C. gave Julie too much Seconal and she passed out in our hotel room?”

 

            “Oh, what, did you guys pass her around that night?”  Bret snorted.

 

            “Of course not,” Rikki said, sounding wounded.  “But that night, Bobby came home, drunk out of his mind, and he went in the bedroom with her.  He was in there for hours.  We didn’t think anything of it, of course… until now.”

 

            Julie’s blood turned to ice.  “Bobby was in there with me?”

 

            “Yeah,” Rikki said.  “Do you remember at all?”

 

            Julie shook her head.  “I don’t remember that night at all,” she said.  “I don’t even really remember the day after that.”

 

            Bret furrowed his eyebrows.  “Wait, Rikki, what are you saying?”

 

            “I don’t know if I’m saying anything,” Rikki said.  “I don’t want to even consider that anything may have happened, but it seemed like something that should be brought to your attention.”

 

            “You’re telling me,” Bret said slowly, “that my bassist raped my girlfriend.”

 

            “I’m not telling you any such thing,” Rikki replied.  “I’m just telling you that he was in there that night, and I thought maybe that information might be important somehow.”  He looked nervous.

 

            Bret looked at Julie, then at Sebastian.  “You know,” he said evenly, “I think that Bobby has caused enough trouble for this band.”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “You know him better than I do.  Would he do… that?”

 

            Julie wanted to speak, but had no idea what to say.  She knew she couldn’t defend Bobby, but she prayed that he wasn’t that terrible.

 

            “I’d like to say no,” Bret replied, “but after what happened with Marcella…”

 

            “What did happen with Marcella?” Julie put in.  “The day… the morning after you went into the hospital, he said something about ‘after what Bret did to Marcella…’”

 

            Bret frowned.  “What the hell are you talking about?”  He sounded less furious, but still clearly angry.

 

            “I don’t know,” Julie said, afraid to meet his gaze.  “That’s all he said.”

 

            “I didn’t fucking do anything to Marcella, unless he means saving her from ending up dead,” Bret said.  “That doesn’t support Bobby’s case, though, now does it?”  He looked back at Sebastian.

 

            “No, it doesn’t,” Sebastain replied, and Julie could hear the anger creeping into his voice as well.  “What do you suppose we should do about that?”

 

            “I think we need to pay Bobby a little visit,” Bret said.  His hands were in fists at his sides.

 

            “Guys,” Julie said, but had nothing to follow it with.

 

            “He can’t get away with doing that to you,” Sebastian said.

 

            “Well, we don’t know that-“ Rikki began.

 

            Bret snorted.  “It seems pretty fucking clear to me.”

 

            “Me, too,” Sebastian agreed. 

 

            “All right, Baz,” Bret said, “I’m putting aside the part where I want to gut you like a fish for the time being.  We have bigger fish to fry right now.”

 

            “Guys,” Julie said, more insistently, “I don’t know how good of an idea that is.”

 

            “What?  This, from the queen of good ideas?” Bret demanded.  “Would you rather we stay here, and I take out my anger on you?

 

            “Bret, calm down,” Sebastian said.  “You’re about to go kill Bobby because he hurt this girl, think about what you’re saying.”

 

            “My intense hatred of Bobby right now does not negate the fact that all of this happened,” Bret said, “but you’re right.  Come on, let’s go.”

 

            “Damn it,” Julie said, “I need to get home somehow.”  It was a desperate attempt.

 

            “You can stay here as long as you want,” Rikki put in quietly, not looking at anyone.

 

            “Thank you, Rikki,” Julie said.  “Really.  But I have to get back to my house.” 

 

            Bret sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  “All right,” he said after a minute, “come on.  I’ll drive you back to your house.”

 

            Julie looked at Sebastian.  “Maybe I should take her,” he said to Bret.

 

            “What?  Why should you drive my girlfriend home?”

 

            “I’m still your girlfriend?”

 

            Both of them ignored her.  “Well, you haven’t seemed to want to be around her thus far,” Sebastian replied. 

 

            “I can take care of this myself,” Bret said coldly.

 

            “Is that okay with you, Jule?” Sebastian asked her.

 

            Julie’s mind raced.  She had no idea what exactly was ‘okay’ with her at the moment.  “It’s fine,” she said, because that seemed like the easiest thing to say. 

 

            “I’ll follow you back to the house,” Sebastian said, looking at Bret.  “We’ll go from there.”

 

            “All right, fine.  Julie, let’s go.”

 

            The drive back to Julie’s house went on for a while in total silence, Bret staring intently at the road.  Finally, he spoke.  “Why did you do it, Julie?”

 

            “You know I don’t have an answer for that,” she said quietly.

 

            Bret didn’t press the issue as they pulled into the driveway, Sebastian close behind them.  The three went into the house.

 

            “Now what?” Julie asked.

 

            “Now you take one of the pills the doctor gave you,” Sebastian said gently.  “You need to get some rest.”

 

            “What pills?” Bret asked.

 

            “It’s just Valium,” Julie said quietly.

 

            “Is that safe?  I mean…” Bret trailed off, seeming to regret that he’d asked.

 

            “It’s fine,” Julie said.

 

            “You’d have known that if you hadn’t walked out,” Sebastian pointed out.

 

            “Thank you, Dr. Bach,” Bret said snidely.  “Anyway, I think Baz is right.  You should get some sleep.”

 

            Julie didn’t protest as Sebastian handed her one of the small blue pills and a glass of water.  She swallowed the pill quickly.  “What are you guys going to do?”

 

            “Nothing,” Bret said quickly.  “I guess we have some things to talk about.”

 

            “You’re not going to do anything rash, are you?”

 

            “Of course not,” Sebastian promised her.  “Just go upstairs and lie down.”

 

            “Okay,” Julie said, although she wasn’t sure she believed them.  “You’ll be down here?”

 

            “Sure,” Bret said unconvincingly.

 

            Julie, unsure of just what else to do, turned and went upstairs.  Sebastian turned to Bret.  “What do you want to talk about?”

 

            Bret snorted.  “Are you kidding?  I don’t think we have very much to say to each other.  We’re going to Bobby’s.”

 

§

 

            “If you plan on raping your bandmate’s girlfriend,” Bret said, unlocking Bobby’s door, “best not to give that person a spare key to your house.”  They slipped inside quietly and poked around the downstairs, which was empty.

 

            “I hope he’s here,” Sebastian said.

 

            “He’s here.  His car’s out front.  He must be upstairs.”

 

            “Bret?”

 

            “What.”

 

            “You never… did anything to Marcy, right?”

 

            Bret looked at him.  “Of course I didn’t,” he said.  “In fact, in case you don’t recall, I did a lot less than she wanted me to.”

 

            “Yeah.  Sorry, I just had to ask.”

 

            “I’ll be offended later.  Come on.”

           

            They made their way upstairs, and heard the shower running behind the closed bathroom door.  Almost gracefully, Bret pulled back and kicked the door, hard.  The shower stopped immediately.  “What the fuck?” came Bobby’s voice from inside.

 

            “Get out here, asshole,” Bret said through the door.

 

            “What the hell is going on?”

 

            “You know damn well what’s going on,” Sebastian said.  “Get the fuck out here, before we break down the fucking door.”

 

            “Break it down, then.  I’m not coming out until someone tells me what the hell is up.”

 

            Bret kicked the door again.  “Open the fucking door, you rapist fuck!”

 

            “Rapist fuck?!” Bobby demanded, and now he sounded just as angry.  “What the fuck are you talking about, Michaels?  I believe you have that backwards.”

 

            “Excuse me?  What the fuck do you mean, backwards?”

 

            “Look, if you want to talk about this, I’ll come out,” Bobby said.  “That is, if you’re not going to stab me.”

 

            Bret looked at Sebastian and raised an eyebrow.  Sebastian shrugged.  “Okay,” Bret said, “I won’t kill you until after you tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”

 

            A minute later, the bathroom door opened, and Bobby came out.  He looked from Sebastian to Bret.  “Step into my office, gentlemen,” he said sarcastically and went downstairs, where he went into the kitchen and sat at the table.  “I’d offer you drinks, but this isn’t exactly a social call.”

 

            “You’re right, it isn’t,” Sebastian said.  “And I suggest you start talking.”

 

            Bobby looked at Bret.  “What the fuck is he even doing here?”

 

            “That doesn’t matter,” Bret said.  “He suggested correctly.  You can either start talking, or we can kill you.”

 

            “Whatever,” Bobby said.  “Where the fuck do you get off coming in here and calling me a fucking rapist?”

 

            “If you don’t like the title, perhaps you should have considered that before you decided to be one,” Sebastian suggested.

 

            “What? Who the fuck did I rape?”

 

            “Oh, knock it the fuck off, Bobby, you know damn well who,” Bret said angrily.  “And fucking pussy that you are, you even made sure she was doped up on pills first!”

 

            Bobby frowned.  “Are you talking about Julie?” he asked incredulously.

 

            “Of course I’m talking about Julie!  Who the fuck else would I be talking about?”

 

            “You’re accusing me of raping your girlfriend?”

 

            “Sounds that way,” Sebastian put in.

 

            “Bret, I don’t know what the fuck you’ve been sticking up your nose, but if memory serves, you were the one who raped my girlfriend.”

 

            Bret looked at him.  “What?  Marcy?  What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

            “Well, isn’t that how it went down, Bret?” Bobby said, regaining his composure.  “After you oh-so-valiantly got her away from evil, abusive me, you went to visit her, and thought maybe she owed you a little something?  And when she didn’t want to give it, you took it, anyway.”

 

            Sebastian exhaled.  “She told you that?”

 

            “Of course she did,” Bobby said.  “Why wouldn’t she?”

 

            “I don’t know, maybe because it didn’t happen?” Bret said, angry.  “Why the fuck would I ever rape Marcy?  Why would I ever want to hurt her?”

 

            “I don’t fucking know, Bret,” Bobby said, but he sounded a little less sure of himself now. 

 

            “That’s fucking absurd,” Bret said.  “Frankly, I’m surprised you’d even believe it.”

 

            “Well, you seem pretty quick to believe it when your girlfriend cries rape on me!”

 

            “She didn’t cry rape on anyone,” Sebastian put in.  “The paternity test results say that neither of us is the father.”

 

            “So?  That just means she’s even more of a slut than we thought she was,” Bobby said.  “What’s that got to do with me?”

 

            “She’s not a slut,” Sebastian said.  “And you know what it has to do with you.  Rikki told us you spent hours in her room the night C.C. gave her too much Seconal.”

 

            “Yeah, and?  I went in there, drunk as hell, and saw her in there, and tried to wake her up so I could talk to her about what happened.  I was actually planning to tell her all about what Marcella told me.  She wouldn’t wake up, though, and eventually I passed out on the floor.  I sure as shit didn’t fuck her.  Hell, I don’t think I could have fucked anyone that night if I’d tried.”

 

            Bret and Sebastian exchanged a glance.  “Well, just for the record,” Bret said, “nothing ever happened between Marcy and I, and it wasn’t for a lack of effort on her part.”

 

            Sebastian rose to his feet.  “Come on, let’s go,” he said.

 

            “Where are we going?” Bobby asked, standing as well.

 

            “Back to the doctor’s office,” Sebastian said.  “I told him we’d be back to retake the test, but it looks like we might have found the father.”

 

            Bobby sighed.  “Look, I’ll fucking go and let them take the test, just to fucking show you that I never touched Julie.”

 

            “Well,” Bret said, rising, “if that’s the case, then you don’t have to worry about them finding pieces of you in four states.”

 

§

 

            The three men sat in the doctor’s office, waiting for him to come in.  When he did, he greeted them.  “Welcome back, Mr. Bach, Mr. Michaelson.”  He extended a hand to Bobby.  “I’m Dr. Cambria.  You must be Mr. Dall.”

 

            Bobby shook his hand stiffly.  “Yeah.”

 

            “It’s Michaels,” Bret said.  “Not Michaelson.”

 

            Dr. Cambria looked down at his clipboard and flipped through some papers, frowning.  “Your name isn’t Christian Michaelson?”

 

            Bret frowned.  “No.  It’s Bret Michaels.”  He paused.  “Why?  Is there some mix-up?”

 

            “Oh, dear,” the doctor said, and cleared his throat nervously.  “Yes, there must be.  If you’ll excuse me for just one moment…?”  He ducked out.

 

            Sebastian looked at Bret.  “Can we sue for this?”

 

            “Probably.”

 

            “Are we going to sue for this?”

 

            “No, Sebastian, we are not.”

 

            “See?  I told you I didn’t touch her.”

 

            “Shut up, Bobby.”

 

            The doctor came back in and sat at his desk.  “Gentlemen, I really don’t know how to tell you this, but it seems my nurse confused your paperwork, and thought that you were Mr. Michaelson, rather than Mr. Michaels,” he said.  “I realize the amount of confusion this has caused you, and I really am frightfully sorry.”

 

            “Does this change the results of the test?” Bret asked.

 

            “Yes, actually, it does,” Dr. Cambria said.  “As it turns out, Mr. Michaels, you are indeed the father of Miss Kinsington’s baby.  Now normally, we don’t give the results of these tests without the mother present, but given the… ah, unusual circumstances, we’re making an exception this time.  Again, I really am awfully sorry about the confusion.”

 

            “Thank you,” Bret said, clearly uncertain of what else to say.  He rose, and Sebastian and Bobby followed him.

 

            When they got to the parking lot, Bret turned to Bobby.  “I guess I owe you an apology,” he said cautiously.

 

            “Yeah,” Bobby said and sighed.  “I guess I owe you one, too.  I shouldn’t have believed Marcy.”

 

            “And I shouldn’t have thought that you’d ever hurt Julie,” Bret replied.  “Or me.”

 

            “Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian said.  “This homo stuff is really sweet and all, but don’t you think maybe we should go talk to Julie?”

 

            “Yeah, you’re right,” Bret said.  “Bobby, do you want us to drop you off at your place?”

 

            “Nah,” Bobby said.  “I think I need to just wander around for a while, clear my head.”

 

            “You sure?”

 

            “Yeah.  Go do what you need to do.  Give me a call later or whatever.”  He walked away.

 

            “Well, let’s do this, I guess,” Bret said, and climbed into the car.

 

            Sebastian climbed in after him.  “So what happens now?”

 

            Bret began to drive.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I haven’t known since this whole fucked up thing started.”

 

            “I guess I should just disappear,” Sebastian said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it.

 

            Bret sighed.  “I don’t know, man,” he said.  “This whole thing is just so bizarre.  Part of me wants to say we’ve been through worse than this together.”

 

            “But we really haven’t.”

 

            “Yeah,” Bret agreed.  “And I’m not going to lie, I really want to break several bones in your body for sleeping with her.”

 

            “I can’t argue with that.”

 

            “But I don’t know,” Bret continued.  “I think I’d feel like a twelve-year-old girl if I pulled some kind of ‘well, I’m not your friend anymore’ deal.”

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “You’d look terrible as a twelve-year-old girl,” he noted.

 

            Bret ignored the remark.  “So just don’t do it anymore, okay?”

 

            Sebastian was quiet for a minute before responding.  “I won’t,” he said finally. 

 

            They pulled into the driveway.  “I guess we’ll both go up,” Bret said. 

 

            “Whatever you want,” Sebastian agreed.  They made their way into the house and up to Julie’s father’s room silently. 

 

            Julie was asleep on top of the blankets, on her back, and for a moment they just looked at her.  “She really is beautiful,” Sebastian said.

 

            “I know,” Bret said, and didn’t look at him.  He walked over to the bedside and gently shook Julie awake.

 

            She stirred, and then realizing who was there, sat up quickly.  “Hi,” she said nervously.

 

            Sebastian sat at the edge of the bed.  “How are you feeling, princess?”

 

            “Um,” Julie said.  “I’m okay.  What’s going on?”

 

            “We just came from Dr. Cambria’s office,” Bret said. 

 

            “What?  Why?”

 

            “Well,” Sebastian took over, “After you fell asleep, we went to talk to Bobby.”

 

            “Oh, no,” Julie said.  “What did you do?”

 

            “Nothing,” Bret said.  “Seriously, we just talked, and it’s a good thing we did.”

 

            “I’m confused.”

 

            “When we got there, Bobby insisted he hadn’t done anything,” Sebastian continued.  “In fact, he seemed convinced that it was actually Bret who had committed the crime.”

 

            “Bobby thought that Bret raped me?”  Julie frowned.

 

            “No,” Bret said, “Bobby thought that I raped Marcella.”

 

            “Why would he think that?”

 

            “Apparently, that was Marcella’s version of what happened the night that I went to visit her,” Bret said dryly. 

 

            “Why would she say something like that?”

 

            “You know how women are,” Sebastian said.  “I mean… you know what I mean.  I don’t know what her deal is.”

 

            “So everything’s okay with Bobby?”

 

            “Yeah, everything’s fine,” Bret assured her.  “There wasn’t a single punch thrown, promise.”

 

            “That still doesn’t explain why you just came from the doctor’s office,” Julie said.

 

            “Well, we weren’t quite sure if Bobby was telling the truth,” Sebastian said, “but rather than killing him, we decided to take him to Dr. Cambria and find out from a professional.”

 

            “And he’s not the father,” Julie said.  “And you guys still think that I-“

 

            “No, we don’t,” Bret interrupted her.

 

            “Is it just the Valium, or is this all really making no sense?”

 

            “The doctor’s idiot nurse fucked up the charts,” Bret explained.  “Mine got messed up with some Michaelson guy, who, obviously, is not the father of this baby.”

 

            “Then who is?”

 

            “I am,” Bret said quietly.

 

            “And that is just about my cue to exit stage left,” Sebastian said.  “If you need me, I’m at the Bienville House.”  He didn’t wait for a response before leaving.

 

            “I guess we have some stuff to talk about,” Bret said uncomfortably.

 

            “Yeah, I guess we do.”  She sighed.  “Look, there’s not much I can say about what happened.  I can apologize to you, but I can’t change it, and I can’t justify it.”

 

            “I’m not going to lie, Julie,” Bret said.  “It kills me that you’d do that.  It hurts from his end, too, but admittedly, that’s not as much of a shock.”

 

            “It surprised me as much as it surprised you,” Julie said.  “I had no idea I would do something like that.”

 

            “Well,” Bret said, taking a breath, “I can’t say that I’m not hurt about it.”

 

            “I wouldn’t expect you to.  I never wanted to hurt you.”

 

            “And I know that,” Bret said.  “And for that very reason, as well as others, I don’t want to lose you.  I want to be with you, and I want to be with our baby.  I love you.”  He leaned in to kiss her.

 

            For a moment, Julie kissed him back, tasting the unique flavor of his mouth, then she pulled away.  “I love you, too,” she said quietly, not looking at him.

 

            “Julie?  What’s wrong?”

 

            She forced herself to look at him, trying not to cry.  “Bret, this situation has forced me to do a lot of thinking,” she said carefully, “and some things occurred to me.”

 

            “Like what?”

 

            “Well, like the fact that…” She hesitated, and took a deep breath.  “Like the fact that if I subconsciously really thought that I could spend the rest of my life with you, I never would have slept with Sebastian again.”

 

            “Julie, what are you saying?”

 

            “I’m not exactly sure.  Just hear me out, okay?”  She swallowed.  “Now, Bret, I know that if the shoe were on the other foot - meaning, had you and Sebastian had been in each other’s place - I know you would have ended up doing the noble thing.  It’s just the kind of person you’ve always been.”

 

            “Yeah…”

 

            “It’s not the kind of person that Sebastian has always been, though,” Julie continued.  “The fact that he stuck up for me the way he did displayed his feelings very loudly.  The night that you found out that the baby might not be yours, you split, and I understand why you did.  You had every right to… but Sebastian was here, and he said things that I didn’t know he could ever say.”  She paused.  “And at the doctor’s office this morning, you left again.  You just assumed that I had slept with someone else, and again, I can see why you would, but that still hurt me.  Sebastian stayed there.  He defended me, and more importantly, he believed me.  That meant a lot to me.”

 

            “I’m not sure I get what you’re saying,” Bret said, but his tone betrayed his words.

 

            “I love you so much, Bret,” Julie continued.  “I always want you to be a part of my life, and more importantly, part of your child’s life.  But I realize now that some part of me has had feelings for Sebastian all along, and his recent actions have cemented those feelings.  Sebastian has never been able to act very adult about things, and I mean enough to him that he made some of the most adult decisions I’ve seen any of us make in a long time.  I have to give him the chance he deserves.  I’m so sorry, Bret.  This isn’t easy for me.”

 

            “You want to be with Sebastian,” Bret said, as if he needed to say it himself in order to believe it.  He was silent for a minute.  “I don’t know what to say, Julie,” he said finally, and his voice registered a mixture of surprise with a tinge of anger.

 

            “I’m sorry, Bret,” Julie replied, unsure of what else to say.  “I really do love you.”

 

            For a few long moments, Bret just looked at her, obviously considering how to proceed.  Finally, he began to speak.  “There’s a really big part of me that wants to give you a hug and wish you the best,” he said evenly, obviously carefully weighing out each word before he said it.  “I really do want you to be happy, and I love you, and if you’d be happiest with Sebastian, part of me wants to give you that without a fight.”

 

            “But?”

 

            Bret looked at her for a minute.  “But let’s face it, Julie,” he said, his tone getting a little angrier, “that would be absurd.  Think about what you’re telling me here.  You’re telling me that not only do you not want to be with me anymore, but that you want to be with my best friend, and basically have him raise my child with you.”  He laughed, a short, unamused sound.

 

            “I know how horrible this must sound,” Julie offered lamely.

 

            “Do you?”  He didn’t wait for a response.  “You know, I’m trying not to be cold about this, but I don’t think I can be anything else.  I don’t know what you expect from me.”

 

            “I don’t, either,” she admitted.  “I don’t know what to do about any of this.  I just know that I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

            “But you did, anyway,” Bret said flatly.  “And now you’re going to do it again.”

 

            Julie knew that what he was saying was true, and that there was nothing she could really say to defend herself.  “Bret, I…” She faltered.

 

            “It’s okay,” he said.  “There’s really not much else to say, I guess.”  His voice had turned colder.  “You seem to have already made your decision.”

 

            “I guess I did,” Julie said quietly, not looking at him.  Truth be told, she cuoldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so uncertain about anything.

 

            “Well, I hope you’re sure,” Bret said, rising to his feet, “because I don’t think I can wait to find out if you’re not.”

 

            Julie stood as well.  “I don’t want it to be like this,” she said, trying not to cry.

 

            “Yeah?  Well, how did you expect it to be?” Bret demanded, no longer even trying to keep the edge out of his tone.  “Did you expect me to just say, ‘Okay, sure, honey.  You cheated on me with my best friend while I was laid up in the hospital, and then I almost murdered my bassist and destroyed our band because I thought he might have hurt you, and I forgave you, and you decided that you didn’t want me, after all.  But that’s all fine, because I love you, so go take my baby and be with him, and we’ll still be best buddies’?  Don’t be ridiculous.  You couldn’t possibly have really fucking expected that.”

 

            “I didn’t.  I just… I didn’t want this to end badly.”

 

            “Things only end badly, Julie.  If they didn’t, then they’d never end at all.”  He took a breath.  “For your sake, I hope you’re making the right decision, because with it, you’re changing the lives of four people forever.  I’ll send someone to pick up my things.”  Thus saying, he turned and left. 

 

            Julie stood where she was, biting back tears, until she heard the front door slam shut.  Then she took a deep breath and began to get ready to go talk to Sebastian.

 

§

 

            “There’s no answer in his room, Miss Kinsington,” the clerk told Julie, and looked perplexed.  “I did see him come back just a little while ago, though, and I would have seen him leave if he had.”

 

            “Is there any way I could go up and see if he’s there?” 

 

            “We’re not supposed to do that,” the clerk replied.  She dropped her voice so that only Julie could hear her.  “But I guess I could make an exception.  Do you think you could get me his autograph?”

 

            Julie smiled a little.  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” she said. 

 

            The clerk pushed a key across the counter.  “It’s room 46,” she said.  “On the fourth floor.  And I have no idea how you got that key.”

 

            “Thank you,” Julie said, and walked over to the elevator.  As she rode it to the fourth floor, she tried to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to do.  The elevator ride was too short for much contemplation, though, and all too soon she found herself outside the door to Sebastian’s room.  Without giving herself the chance to back out, she ran the keycard through the slot and pushed the door open.

 

            The room was dark, and it took Julie’s eyes a few minutes to adjust.  All of the curtains were drawn, and eventually she managed to make out Sebastian’s form lying on the bed.  She shut the door behind her and made her way quietly to the edge of the bed.  “Sebastian,” she said quietly.  He didn’t respond, and she said it again, louder.  Still he gave no sign that he heard her.

 

            Julie smiled to herself and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp.  “Sebastian, sleepyhead, wake…”  She trailed off as she took in the sight before her.

 

            Sebastian was lying on the bed, on his back, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed.  There was a needle in his arm, and a small spot of blood had fallen onto the carpet.  His lips were a blueish color, and Julie immediately flashed back to when he’d shot up too much cocaine at her house so long ago.  For a long moment, she just stood there staring at him, unable to look away, then something inside of her snapped and she grabbed for the phone on the bedside table. 

 

            “911, what is your emergency?”

 

            “I’m at the Bienville House,” Julie said, managing to keep her voice steady, “room 46.  My… friend overdosed.  On heroin, I think.”  She described Sebastian’s condition to the operator.

 

            “Have you checked his heartbeat?” the operator asked.

 

            “I’ll do that now,” Julie said.  Tentatively, she reached over and pressed her fingers against Sebastian’s neck, and for a horrible moment felt nothing.  Then she felt his pulse, weak and slow.  “His pulse is faint,” she told the operator.  “And slow.”

 

            “Is he breathing?”

 

            Julie looked at Sebastian’s chest, and watched until she saw it rising and falling, very slowly and shallowly.  She described what she saw to the operator.

 

            “Someone will be there in a few minutes.  Don’t disturb the victim,” the operator instructed.

 

            “Okay,” Julie replied, and then remembered the last time she’d had to call 911 on a rockstar.  “I need to alert the front desk.”

 

            “Yes, that will save time,” the operator agreed.  “If anything changes, call back.”  They disconnected and Julie mechanically called the front desk to inform them of the situation.  Once she had hung up the phone, she realized how quiet the room was, and how much quieter it seemed with Sebastian in his current state.  She found herself completely unable to think about what was happening.

 

            A moment later, the door banged open and three paramedics rushed in.  Julie backed away from the bedside quickly to give them room to work, and two of them began to examine Sebastian.  She turned away. 

 

            “Are you the woman who called 911?” the third one asked her.

 

            “Yes,” Julie nodded. 

 

            “What is your relation to the victim?”

           

            Julie bit back the urge to say that Sebastian was more than just a ‘victim’ to her.  “He’s my… friend,” she said hesitantly.

 

            “What happened here?”

 

            “I… I’m not really sure,” Julie said.  “I just got here, and found him like this, and then called 911.”

 

            “So you don’t know how long he’s been like this.”

 

            “No, I’m sorry.  I don’t.”

 

            “Okay, well, I’m just going to need to get some information from you,” the paramedic said.  Julie answered all of his questions to the best of her ability, still unable to focus on the reality of the situation.  She did her best to focus on the conversation she was having as the other paramedics loaded Sebastian onto a stretcher and carried him out of the room.  “I think we’re about done here,” the paramedic said.  “Will you be riding with us?”

 

            Julie’s eyes landed on the spot of blood on the carpet.  “No,” she said quickly.  “I’ll… no.” 

 

            “We’re taking him to Sacred Heart hospital,” he told her, then hurriedly followed the other paramedics out of the room.  Julie sank to the floor, still focused on the spot of Sebastian’s blood.

 

§

 

            “Hey, stranger,” Julie said.

 

            Sebastian turned around.  “Hey,” he said, hugging her.  “It’s good to see you.

 

            “You, too,” she agreed.  “How are you feeling?”

 

            “I’ve felt better,” he admitted.  “Listen, I’m sorry you couldn’t get in here sooner.  Our manager closed all visitation that wasn’t the band or immediate family, and I’ve been unconscious for the better part of the past three days.”

 

            “It’s okay, not your fault,” Julie said.  Inside, she was angry and frustrated for having to spend three long days not knowing if Sebastian was going to be all right, but she understood the manager’s decision. 

 

            “Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee?” Sebastian suggested, already leading the way to the cafeteria. 

 

            Once they were seated with their drinks, Julie spoke again.  “So I bet you’re glad to be getting out,” she said lamely.

 

            Sebastian nodded.  “Yeah, it’s about time.”

 

            “You gave me a pretty good scare.”

 

            “I wasn’t expecting you to find me.”  He paused.  “I wasn’t expecting anyone to find me, really.  I’m really sorry that you had to see me like that, Julie.  I never wanted that.”

 

            “You’re lucky someone did find you,” Julie said, ignoring his comment.  “You…”  She bit back ‘were about to die’.  “You could have died.”

 

            Sebastian looked down at his coffee.  “That was my intention,” he said quietly.

           

            Julie’s blood turned to ice.  “What?” she said, although she’d heard him plainly.  “What are you talking about?”

 

            “What do you mean, what am I talking about?  Don’t you think I’ve had a little too much experience with heroin to accidentally overdose?”

 

            “I… God, Sebastian, I don’t know what to say.”

 

            “There’s not much to say about it, really.  I was trying to exit stage left, and you foiled my plans,” he said, and chuckled half-heartedly.

 

            “Well, good thing, don’t you think?”  Without waiting for a response, she continued.  “Aren’t you glad that I did?”

 

            Sebastian sighed.  “Yeah, I guess so,” he replied.  “What the hell were you doing there, anyway?”

 

            “I needed you,” Julie said, shifting her feet uncomfortably.

 

            “What for?”

 

            “Well, when you left my house the other day, you said you’d be at the hotel if… if we needed you.  And… I needed you.”  She took a deep breath.  “I broke it off with Bret.”

 

            Sebastian looked up sharply.  “What?  Why?”

 

            “Why do you think?” Julie tried to smile and didn’t do a very good job of it.  “I did a lot of thinking,” she went on.  “I don’t think that being with Bret was the right decision.”

 

            “I don’t get it.”

 

            “If I really, truly wanted to be with Bret, I never would have slept with you,” Julie explained.  “Some part of me knew that it wasn’t him I wanted to be with long before the rest of me caught on.”

 

            Sebastian ran a hand through his hair.  “And you told him all of this?  That you wanted to be with me?”

 

            Julie nodded.  “It wasn’t easy.”

 

            “How did he take it?”

 

            Julie sighed.  “Not very well,” she admitted.  “I guess I can’t blame him, although I had hoped things wouldn’t end as badly as they did.” 

           

            “Well, come on, Jules,” Sebastian said, “what were you expecting?  You just left him and took away his kid.”

 

            Julie furrowed her eyebrows.  “Believe me, I know what I did,” she said quietly.  “But it’s what I had to do.”

 

            “Julie,” Sebastian began.  He took a sip of his coffee, cleared his throat, and started over.  “Julie, you know how much I want to be with you.”

 

            “I want to be with you, too.  That’s why I’m here.”

 

            “You know how much I want to be with you,” he repeated, “but this situation is fucking crazy.”  He paused.  “In all of my self-destructive insanity, I have never once gotten to the point where I was ready to end it all in a hotel room somewhere in California.”

 

            “I’m sorry, I should have gotten there sooner,” Julie said.

 

            Sebastian shook his head.  “That isn’t the point,” he said.  “It doesn’t matter what actually happened, the point is that in my head I was ready to do that.  And that’s intense, Julie.”

 

            “I’m not quite sure I know where you’re going with this.”

 

            “I know.  I’m trying to collect my thoughts, but I’m sorry if I’m a bit disjointed.  Just bear with me.”  He took another sip of coffee.  “Being laid up in a hospital bed gives you a lot of time to think.  In between doses of whatever the hell they pump you full of, anyway.  And coming close to death gives you an interesting perspective on things.”

 

            “You sound like a born-again Christian,” Julie said, nervously trying to make a joke.

 

            “I guess it isn’t all that much different,” Sebastian replied.  “Have you ever really sat down and thought about this entire situation, beginning to end, and really paid attention to how fucked up it is?”

 

            “I guess I haven’t,” Julie said after a minute.  “It all kind of went too fast to ever have the time to do that.  Something was always happening… either Bret was sick, or you were missing, or…” She trailed off.

 

            “Exactly,” Sebastian agreed.  “None of us ever had any time to think about things.  All of our decisions were made in the heat of the moment, and everything we did was governed by a bunch of insane feelings instead of any kind of real thought process.  To think that we’ve been doing whatever the fuck we’re doing for the past eight months without ever bothering to even think about what we were doing is a sobering thought.”

 

            “It is,” Julie agreed, wondering what he was driving at.

 

            “Well, while I was stuck in here, it gave me some time to do just that, to just think about what the hell we’ve all been doing for all of this time.  Part of me wishes I hadn’t had that time, and that I could just be happy that in the end, I got the girl.  I’ve heard people say that overdosing really changes you, but I didn’t really believe it until now, and believe me, I wish I could just be the Sebastian I was a few days ago.”

 

            “What Sebastian are you now?” Julie said, growing more apprehensive of the situation by the minute.

 

            “I don’t know,” he said.  “I don’t want to sound like I’m this newly born person who’s all better now.  That’s ridiculous.  But I don’t think I’m the Sebastian that can just roll with this whole crazy situation, and walk out of here with you hand in hand like everything’s totally normal.”  He paused.  “Julie, think about all of this.  We all just sort of fell out of the sky into each other’s worlds, and right from the beginning we had this fucked up rock’n’roll love triangle.  Then you ended up with Bret, and that was supposed to be the end of it.  I was supposed to never think about Julie again, not in the way that I wanted to, anyway.  But that didn’t happen.  For some reason, I could never get over it and pretend that you were just another girl.”

 

            “I never got over you, either,” Julie said softly.

 

            “Then six months into your relationship with Bret, we ended up trashed in a hotel room, fucking like rabid dogs while he was sick in the hospital, dreaming of his beautiful, innocent girlfriend,” Sebastian continued.  “You know, I may not seem like the type to get guilty, but I still feel like a pariah for doing that to him.  I’m supposed to be his best friend.”

 

            “That was just as much my fault as it was yours,” Julie said.  “More, really.”

 

            “That isn’t the point.  The point is, I did that, because I was so caught up in the situation, in my feelings for you.  You’re like a drug, Julie.  You were a bigger addiction for me than heroin or coke ever could have been.  I’ve never felt so out of control in a situation that I felt like I had to run from it and I ran away from you three different times, and on the last one, I tried to run in a much more final sense.  For me, that’s frighteningly out of control, and I don’t like it.”  He ran a hand through his hair and sat back.  “I don’t like the idea of being under the control of another person, period, much less a person who has absolutely no idea what she really wants.”

 

            “I want you,” Julie said.

 

            “No, you don’t,” Sebastian replied.  “You don’t have any idea what you want.  If you knew what you wanted, none of this would have happened.  We wouldn’t be sitting here right now.  You thought you knew what you wanted before we ever even came into your life, and look how easily we uprooted your entire belief system then.” 

 

            Julie fidgeted in her seat, knowing that his words were true.  “I’m not sure what to say.”

 

            “Don’t say anything, then,” Sebastian said.  His voice had gotten a slightly harder edge to it.  “Julie, listen, I don’t think you ever intended for anyone in this situation to get hurt, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and that you could have prevented it.  I don’t want to call you a selfish person, but I think that during this whole mess, you never really stopped to consider how things were affecting anyone but yourself.  I know that none of this has been easy for you, and I really can’t imagine how you must feel, but you’re just one heart broken in half.  Bret and I… we’re two, and we were best friends when this whole thing started.  That’s pretty much destroyed now, and all because we let ourselves lose our head over a girl who has no idea what she wants from either one of us.  You went back and forth between us and never really seemed to notice what it did to us.”

 

            “I…” Julie began.

 

            “Don’t.  Just hear me out,” Sebastian interrupted.  “No matter how things ended up, you got what you wanted, or what you thought you wanted.  You got the guy, the stability, the money, everything, and I’m not saying you’re in it for those things, but it’s the truth.  And maybe it’s true that Bret or I would have gotten the girl, but with her we would also have gotten the constant fear that we could wake up one morning just to find that she’d changed her mind again and went running back to the other one.”  He took a breath. “That’s no way to live, Julie.  I do love you, more than I think you can possibly understand, more than I can understand, but I can’t imagine being with you right now.  Being with you and wondering when the other shoe was going to drop, being with you and knowing every day that I betrayed a friend,” he continued.  “Especially when every day I would be looking at a child that I knew wasn’t mine, and that I shouldn’t be the one raising.”  He was quiet for a minute.  “I wish I didn’t feel this way, Julie.  I wish that I could say that everything would be okay, and that I could reassure you like I tried to before, but you aren’t the only one who needs reassurance, and frankly, you’re in no condition to be making any promises right now.”

 

            “You’re right,” Julie said timidly.  She wished there was some way to counter his points, but she knew there wasn’t.

 

            “Maybe this seems harsh, but I think it’s for the best that you be on your own for a while,” Sebastian said.  “You need to figure out for yourself what it is you really want, and you can’t do that as long as Bret and I are around.  Believe me, it kills me to let you go, but I don’t have any other choice.  You have a lot of growing up to do, Julie, and Bret and I have a friendship to try to fix that may well be beyond repair.  He’s picking me up today so we can talk, but really, I don’t know if it will do any good.”  He stood up.

 

            “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Julie said, unable to look at him.

 

            “Maybe not,” Sebastian said.  “But I’m sorry, Julie, you didn’t do anything to keep it from happening, either, and actions speak louder than words.”  He paused.  “I love you,” he continued, “and maybe I always will, but you’ve done enough damage for the time being.”  Thus saying, he turned and walked away without waiting for a reply.

 

            Julie watched him as he left the cafeteria, the first tears already spilling hotly down her cheeks.   After a few minutes, she managed to pull herself together enough to rise to her feet, and she made her way into the lobby, trying hard not to cry.  Upon reaching the doorway between the lobby and cafeteria, her eyes landed on Bret’s car in front of the entrance, and she froze.  He was standing on the driver’s side, leaning on the roof.

 

            Sebastian walked out of the hospital and greeted Bret, then climbed into the passenger side.  From over the car, Bret’s eyes landed on Julie for just a moment before he, too, climbed into the car, and they drove away.