Chapter Twenty-Eight
We need to talk.
Those words echoed in her head as she followed JC off of the dance floor and towards one of the pair of doors that led outside. He stopped for a moment, unsure of which set he wanted to use, before he picked one and brought her over to it.
We need to talk.
She didn't like the way that he said those words. There was a hidden tone, a hidden meaning in it all, and no, she definitely didn't like it, because she couldn't figure out what the hell he was talking about. And yes, she needed to talk to him, but why did she think that this was going to be something completely different from what he had to tell her.
Her head turned slightly a moment before she walked out the door, and she saw Justin smiling at her. She waved quickly, with a small laugh, before walking outside. JC was patiently waiting for her, resting his arms on the edge of the railing around the small balcony. She watched with greedy eyes as the wind picked up and ruffled his hair a little. As if he could sense her watching him, he turned around and looked at her seriously. "New York...Brooklyn..."
She forced a smile on her face. What else could she do? "Wow, it must be pretty serious if you have to call me by my first name." Nervously, her hands linked together, and she looked down at her shoes. "Actually, I'm kind of glad that you came to get me, because there was something that I wanted to talk to you about. I just didn't know when the right time would come up...and I'm babbling, aren't I?" He nodded his head slowly. "Yeah, that's great. Uh...go ahead."
Now it was JC who forced the smile onto his face. It didn't look right. It looked out of place. It looked like he was trying too hard. She resisted the urge to groan and drop her head. "Nah, ladies first," he told her casually, although she could see that there was nothing casual about this at all.
"I'd...uh...rather that you went first, actually. What I have to say can wait."
Again he nodded. Why was this so hard for him. This wasn't what he wanted at all. Letting Chris know some of what was happening, the phone call...nothing was going his way lately. Was this the life of a singer? If it was, and if it wasn't for his love of music, he would have dropped this in a minute. He didn't need this shit all the time, and he was getting fed up...but he wasn't going to take it out on Brooklyn.
How was he supposed to let her know what was happening? Was he going to tell the truth, tell some more lies...he didn't even know WHY he was doing this at that very moment. It was her brother's wedding, for Christ's sake, and he was going to ruin everything for her. But he didn't have much of a choice. His mind was swimming when he thought of what Tim had told him. God, why couldn't things have just been easier for him? He always had a habit of picking out people that had problems, and keeping them close to him. He was attracted to that for some reason that he couldn't explain, and Brooklyn seemed to have more than enough problems.
Let's just say that I know which tour bus is hers, and I have a friend who's very handy with tools. I'm sure that you wouldn't want to hear on the news that her bus suddenly had...no brakes? That it plowed into a mountain? Don't test me, Chasez, because I know all the answers to the test. YOU are the one that's getting the pop quiz right now.
Yeah, it was a pop quiz, all right, and JC didn't have the answers. What he wouldn't do for a cheat sheet right now. Just like high school. To have a piece of paper up his sleeve that had all the answers to the test, so that he'd be sure to get a good grade. So that he'd be sure to beat whoever was at the top of the class at that moment. And the person at the top of the class? None other than the rat bastard, Tim Croft.
I'm sure that you wouldn't want to hear on the news that her bus suddenly had...no brakes? That is plowed into a mountain?
He was telling him that he would be more than willing to plan Brooklyn's death. Her death of all things, just so that no one else could have her. Especially JC. And he knew how it would affect him, as well. He knew that there was something between the two of them that no one, least of all themselves, could explain. So he was going to get rid of all of it, all at once. By killing her. What the hell kind of person was he?
But he didn't want to know the answer to that. He didn't want to know what kind of person Tim was. They had all under-estimated him, hadn't they? They thought that he was doing nothing but trying to get to Brooklyn's money. God, how wrong they were. There was a hell of a lot more to what seemed like such a simple person. A simple minded person. And everyone was fooled. Everyone was fooled by Tim.
"JC?"
He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Brooklyn. God, she was so perfect. She was everything that he ever wanted. No one had what she had. Her personality, her looks, her charm...everything came together wonderfully, and it made him fall faster than he had ever fallen for anyone before. A lot of good that did. He should have just left her alone after their initial meeting. He never should have sang on that track with her. He never should have...
Never should have what? Become her friend? Tried to help her? He was just doing what he thought was right, and look where it had put him. In the middle of an ex-lovers quarrel, that he really had no part in. But he jumped in willingly, didn't he? Jumping in with both feet, not even bothering to test how deep the water was. It was more shallow than he had thought beforehand.
"Yeah?"
She smiled and reached up to put her hand against his face. She was touching him. She was touching him, and she didn't know what a liar he had become. She would have never even dreamed of doing that if she knew the truth. "You look like you're kind of out of it. Are you all right?"
He pulled away from her hand. The movement surprised her, and she dropped her arm, looking down at her feet. "I just...I...oh, you're going to hate me."
Her head shook slowly, and he looked at the one lock of hair that seemed to escape the mass that was pinned together. The one piece of hair that was blowing gently in the wind. She didn't even notice it. She normally would, but she was caught up with something, he could tell that much. Then it hit him. She was caught up with him. He could tell by the look in her eyes, the way that a flush started to creep its way onto her face. And that's probably what hurt him most of all. "What makes you think that? The only thing that's bothering me right now is the fact that you wanted to talk to me, and you just stand there and stare at me. What is it? You know that you can tell me anything."
Did she have to be so God damned supportive of EVERYTHING that went on in his life? Of course she did. Because that was Brooklyn. That's who she was, but being who she was, wasn't making this any easier for him. Not in the slightest bit. But he couldn't really fault her for that, could he? It was one of the things that drew him to her.
And the way that she was looking at him, with that eager look on her face. The want...the NEED to help shining in those emerald green eyes that he loved so much. He was going to crush her, just like he would crush a mosquito. The thought that she had been through so much in the past year really frightened him, because she really couldn't take another big disappointment and this was going to be one HELL of a disappointment.
His eyes turned back to her, and he could feel the strong front that he was trying to put forward begin to crumble, piece by piece. All it took was to look at her smile. Now his strong front completely crashed to the ground, and he was left with himself. A very hurt, very upset, very confused singer.
That's when he opened his mouth to speak again. "Will you...can I...God, NOTHING is coming out right tonight," he said in frustration, running a hand through his hair. Forcing himself to take three deep breaths, he closed his eyes for a moment. "This is going to sound stupid and really strange, and you might get weirded out, but could you...could I just..." He still couldn't finish what he wanted to say, and it was really beginning to bother him.
Brooklyn seemed to understand, though. When his eyes slid open cautiously, he saw her nod before taking a step towards him and reaching up to put her arms around his neck. His eyes closed again as he held her around the waist, wishing that this moment could go on forever. Wishing that he would never have to let go of her.
A strangle rustling sounded from near where they were, and his eyes snapped open, knowing instantly who it was. JC automatically stiffened and she could feel it. Pulling away a little, she looked at his face with a curious and wondering look. He let out one of the longest breaths of his life and stepped away, rubbing his arms through his jacket. This wasn't turning out like he thought it would.
"We...uh...really need to talk about something, and I can't put it off anymore." A weak sounded chuckle came from him, and her eyes narrowed as she continued to watch him. There was something wrong with the way he was standing, and how he kept moving his eyes away from her face. Away from any part of her, actually. She couldn't help wondering what the hell was wrong with him when his eyes jerked away from her feet. "Something has been going on lately, and I...I can't keep it from you anymore. It's...this is so hard for me. I don't think you know how hard this really is."
Another smile started to grow on her face. "Whatever it is, I would suggest getting it over with, because there is no way that Mia would let me miss it when she tosses the bouquet. She'd never speak to me again." Her voice lowered, and he could hear the laughter hidden in it. "Just between you and me, I think she's purposely aiming for me."
"How in the world could she do that? She throws it over her shoulder."
Her eyes rolled. "She has her ways. Don't forget that. So...what is it that you have to tell me?"
The conversation, for a few fleeting moments, had turned so casual that he almost forgot what he was doing. Almost, but not quite. He came slamming back to reality and looked at her for a quick moment before looking away again. "This isn't working out, Brooklyn."
His words came out as a mumble, and surprised both of them. He never thought that he would get it out that way, but the situation couldn't be summed up in a whole four words. Five, if you counted her name. And at this point, every single little word that came from his mouth counted, because it all added up to the fall of Brooklyn Arizona Turner.
"What...isn't working out. Would you like to go somewhere else to talk about this?" she asked, gesturing to the other side of the ballroom, to the other set of double doors and the other balcony.
Stubbornly, his head shook. "Not this as in the balcony, or the setting...well, yes, the setting's wrong, but that's beside the point. I'm talking about the situation right now. Where we are."
Confusion danced in her green eyes. "But you...oh, now I get it. Is that what you wanted to tell me? I'm sorry that you feel uncomfortable, but you know, you could have always turned down Austin's offer, and-"
"Damn it! That's not what I'm talking about, Brooklyn," he practically shouted, before looking over and into the double doors to see if anyone had looked over. So far, no one noticed. He also didn't notice that his hands had slammed down on the balcony railing again. He lifted them guiltily, and looked at them for a moment before turning back to her. "What I'm talking about is where you and I are right now, relationship wise," he managed to choke out.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to stare at him. "Explain, please," she said, crossing her arms and slouching. He didn't like that stance. It looked like she was upset at someone. At him.
Bringing a hand up, he rubbed his eyes and he chuckled softly. "You know, the last thing that I thought I would do is what I'm doing right now, but I have no other choice." Was he supposed to come out with the truth, or make up another lie to add to the seemingly millions he had already made? Even the truth would sound like a lie at this point. "All those times that I said it was my mom calling, that time that I was sick...none of it was true. I lied to you."
Another weak chuckle sounded from him. "I always said that I would never lie to someone who means something to me, but everyone breaks promises, don't they? I broke my promise that I wouldn't look at you as anything but a friend, and look where it's brought me. Where I am today, which actually isn't that enjoyable, if you want to know the truth." The words were rushing out of him and barely making sense to his ears.
They seemed to be making perfect sense to Brooklyn, though. Her face flushed with anger as she continued to look at him. "Would you care to elaborate on that, because I don't like what I'm getting from your words right now," she told him, not in a kind manner.
"Those times that I was telling you about...I was...talking with..." Oh, it was going to hurt to say his name to her. He could see it coming now. The hurt expression. The disbelief, before realization sets in. The trembling. The look of distrust. It was all going to be directed his way, and that's why he didn't look at her. That's why he kept looking at the ground, at the sky, at anything BUT her. "I was talking with Tim. You know, your old fiancé? After you said that you were going to see him, it got me thinking. I couldn't let you go, Brooklyn, so I did what I thought was the best thing. I went to talk to him, and unfortunately, he opened my eyes to a few things."
Why were his words coming out so bitter sounding? Why did he have that defensive tone hidden in his voice, yet at the surface so that she could hear it plain as day? There was something wrong with this situation, but she couldn't figure out what it was. "You...you were to go see Tim. TIM CROFT. That asshole. Why? Tell me JC, WHY did you do that?" she asked again when he didn't answer. Her hand reached out and took a hold on his arm, making him turn to face her. "I don't get this at all, so explain every single little thing to me before I take what you're saying the wrong way and walk through those doors, leaving you alone. And I don't just mean for the next dance, or tonight, or a week. I'm talking for good.
"You went behind my back! That was something that I needed to do, JC, so tell me why the hell you decided to get into my business and go see that ass, when I could have done it myself, and then we wouldn't have been in this predicament."
"Give it up, Brooklyn. I KNOW what would have happened if you went. He would have cut you into little pieces with just a few words, and you would be back in your little depression phase again. And I didn't want that. God, don't you see what I'm trying to say here? Don't you hear it? What I'm saying is that I tried to PROTECT you from him. So that you wouldn't turn out that way again. Once was bad enough, two would have finished you."
Her arms crossed again as she stared at him. "You obviously know nothing about me, then. Because I wouldn't have crumbled under his power. I'm a hell of a lot smarter than that, JC. I would have stood up to him, and you damned well know it."
His eyes rolled as they filled with anger. "You did it once, what's to say that you wouldn't do it again? He had complete control of you. He still has control over you to a degree. That won't ever go away. I know that. My LORD, do you hear yourself? You're saying that you've never bowed down to him before. That's all you ever did, Brooklyn. When he used to smack you around, all you did was deny it to everyone and to yourself. If that wasn't him having power over you..." He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.
"WHAT are you trying to tell me here, JC. Spit it out. NOW."
He growled, practically ripping the sound out of his throat, and Brooklyn stepped back when she heard it, her eyes widening. "What I'm trying to tell you here is that...you and me, babe. We're over. That's it." His voice was laced with anger. It wasn't that he was angry at her, he was angry at the situation and how they came to this.
When he took his chance, gathered up every little bit of courage in his body, and raised his head to look at her, he saw a smirk landing on her face. "Give me one good reason. One good reason why you've decided to do this, and if it's good...you know what, I don't CARE if it's good or not. Give me the stupidest reason in the book, and I'll let you do whatever you want. Because when you act like this, I really don't give a shit. I went through enough with Tim, and I don't need the encore presentation with you."
THAT was the problem. What was his reason for doing this. He couldn't tell her that Tim told him to do this, because he was sure to get at least one black eye, a few cracked ribs, and never have children. But she wanted a reason, and he was going to have to give her one, as much as he hated that. "You want a reason, Brooklyn? You want a God damned reason, right? Let me see here." He was lost. He didn't know what to say, and that wasn't JC. He always knew what to say.
She put her hands on her hips, sliding one foot out. "What, can't come up with a good enough reason to drop me?" she asked, before her hands lifted and went around her neck. Before he could ask what she was doing, she unclasped the necklace and tossed it at his feet. Moving just as quickly, she pulled the bracelet off of her wrist and threw it down there, too, not caring that she didn't open the clasp, or that it dug into her skin when she had pulled it. "Maybe that'll give you enough inspiration for a reason," she ground out, staring hotly at him.
His eyes went down to the jewelry at his feet, and his heart practically tore in two. Those were the things that he had given her. The ones that he had spent so much time on, wondering, worrying what she would think. The things that he spent so long to pick out, trying to find just the perfect thing for her. And she didn't want them anymore. She had told him that she would never take them off...and now they were lying at his feet, discarded like she would throw away garbage.
For a moment, they looked at each other, before JC spun on his heel and started to stalk towards the doors. "I don't need a reason or an excuse, sweetheart," he hissed at her before plastering a smile on his face and walking in. For a moment, he left like he had walked into someone else's party. He didn't recognize anyone, before his eyes finally came into focus and he saw one person in particular staring at him.
He returned the look that Justin was giving him, before walking away. There had to be something that he could do to take his mind off of what he had just said, what he had just done. There had to be something, he thought, as someone waved him over to their table.
Justin shook his head, watching his friend sit down and start up a conversation with someone that he didn't know. There was something wrong with how he came in, how he paused at the door for a moment, how Brooklyn didn't come in with him. Even he could tell that there was something wrong with him, and he was damned well going to find out what it was.
It was almost like she was suffocating. She forced herself to take one deep breath, and then another. The air would go into her lungs, but for some reason, it wouldn't come out. It would stay there, like it was trapped, and she could feel her throat start to constrict.
Then, it came. The one large gasp that let all the air out. All it took was for her eyes to fill with tears. All it took was for that solitary tear to slip down her face and land near her feet, land near the small pile of sparkling jewelry. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see people walking past, and she quickly backed out of the way, her back hitting the rough wall of the hotel. Slowly, she slipped down to the ground, not caring that her dress could get caught and rip or get snagged on something. No, she didn't care about that. What she cared about was JC. And he had just walked away from her, like everyone else had when they got the chance.
Brooklyn had been positive that he was the one. She had been sure that he was the one that was going to stick around, the one that she could be happy with, the one that she didn't have to be scared of. As usual, she was wrong. AGAIN. He obviously didn't care, although he put up the act so well, she couldn't see through it. She was POSITIVE that everything he said to her, every look that he gave her, every smile that was directed her way, had been true. He thrived on sincerity...so why did he do this?
Her head turned so that her forehead touched the cool marble, and she sighed, closing her eyes. Her mind was racing, and all she could hear were people laughing, people talking. They didn't know that anything was wrong. They didn't know that her life had just taken a dramatic downward spiral. No, they were celebrating. They were dancing like they didn't have a care in the world when there was one woman outside, feeling very alone, very hurt. A woman that was bordering on hysterical.
Her sigh turned into a groan when she heard the familiar music floating through the door towards her. It was one of Mia's favorite songs, and Brooklyn would have loved to attack the DJ for even CONSIDERING to play this, but he didn't know. No one knew. Unwillingly, the lyrics came to her, and she was forced to listen to them, unable to block them out.
I was dancing
With your shadow
Slow down memories hall
I said 'wait have I been seduced and forgotten'
You said 'Baby havn't we all'
Is that what it was? Had he been playing her like Tim had? Maybe it had all been a game. A game to see who could make Brooklyn Arizona Turner fall the hardest, and then shatter when she was dropped. No, she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. There was no way in hell that she would do that, but it was something to think about. She had thought that he had been telling the truth. That he had been speaking from the heart...maybe she was wrong. Maybe he was just strategically putting his pieces on the board, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Now I don't like crying
Because it only gets me wet
But I can't help failing
To remember to forget you
And I know it's going to be a long time
No, she wasn't going to cry over the bastard. Not after what he had done to her. That was another thing. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of that, either. Each tear would be a prize. Each sob would be a victory, and she wasn't going to let that happen. Yet, she couldn't help feeling the tears gather in her eyes, waiting for the right moment to fall. She was going to try and stop them. She couldn't cry over him. He wasn't worth it, damn it.
And I'm crying like a church on Monday
Praying for these feelings to go away
So do me a favor baby
Put down your new god
And love me like Sunday again
If she fell in love with him, it would be simple to fall OUT of love, wouldn't it? It should be the easiest thing to do...and for some reason, she couldn't. She tried to forget every touch that made her heart race a little faster, every kiss that made her feel like she was in Heaven, every smile that would make her flush with excitement. All she had to do was forget him, but maybe it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Slowly, another tear went down her cheek.
I was hiding in your bedroom
When I saw him come inside
I can't live in his shadow
Is that where I'm dancing until I die
Wearily, she brought her knees up, not caring that the dress was stretching under the force. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against them, taking a deep breath. She couldn't cry. She just couldn't. And she felt so cold for some reason. In a weak attempt to warm herself, she wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them even closer. She could feel the seams protesting, but she didn't care one bit. She just had to stop all the emotions from hitting her at once. She had to become the old Brooklyn Turner, the one that was around before JC came into her life. The one that had no feelings, and walked around like a zombie. She had to be her again. That was her only way out.
Now I don't light candles
Because they make me see the light
That I can't help failing
To remember to forget you
And I know it's gonna be a long time
God damn it, she couldn't get his face out of her mind. At one time, she was happy that she couldn't, but now...now it was different. Now she never wanted to see him again. If she could help it, she wouldn't but there was nothing that she could do to prevent that. There were pictures at her house, there were mentions on television, there were photographs in magazines...no matter what, he surrounded her, and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic. She had to get out. She had to get away.
And I'm crying like a church on Monday
Praying for these feelings to go away
So do me a favor baby
Put down your new god
And love me like Sunday again
Her shoulders shook briefly before the tears started to fall. She couldn't stop them. Like everything else, there was nothing that she could do about them. But she could hide them the best that she could, so she kept her head down, hoping that no one would be able to hear her over the loud, booming song that just started to play. Brooklyn could feel her whole body tremble as she bit back each and every sob that tried to tear its way from her mouth.
Her ears, very faintly, picked up the sound of someone walking towards her, before the footsteps paused. It was a pause of indecision. All she needed was for JC to come out here and twist the knife that he had already thrust into her heart. She closed her eyes, and willed, PRAYED, that the person would go away.
But she heard someone clear their throat instead. And she heard someone speak. "Brooke?"
JC never called her Brooke. Not since the day that he had started to use her nickname. He called her New York, and he called her Brooklyn, but not Brooke. She slowly lifted her head, looking at a pair of black shoes, before they traveled up the black pant clad legs, to the plain leather belt, and...a pair of blue eyes. But these weren't his blue eyes. They didn't change color as drastically when his emotions changed, and yes, they did sparkle, but instead of hate and loathing, it was a sparkle of concern, and of friendship. They were blue eyes, but they weren't JC's eyes, and that made all the difference.
"Justin?" she asked, not bothering to wipe away the fresh flood of tears that coursed their way down her face. He looked over his shoulder briefly before pulling on the door handles, making sure that no one could see what was happening.
As soon as that was done, he knelt down beside her, looking into her face. "I know that women are supposed to cry at weddings, but this is the reception. You're not supposed to cry during the party, Brooke, so what's the problem?"
She shook her head, and forced down the sob that was trying to escape before looking back at him. "It...it was..." She wasn't able to get a whole sentence out, and instead, pointed with a shaky finger towards the necklace and the bracelet that were sitting on the ground.
His eyes widened when he realized what was trying to tell him and looked back at her, realization dancing in his face. "You mean...but..." Even he was at a loss for words. She shook her head a final time and reached for him, looping her arms around his neck. He held her, trying to find the right words to reassure her, but had to content himself with just being there. There was nothing that he could say to make it better, because no one could do that until JC said that he was wrong, and practically begged for her to take him back.
He closed his eyes, biting his upper lip as her sobs finally died down, and he pulled away to look at her. "Even waterproof makeup can't last through that kind of wear and tear," he said gently, when he saw that her eyeliner and mascara had left dark streaks down her face. "Let's go get you cleaned up, and then you're going to go back in there, and party like you've never partied before, because the LAST thing that you want to do is let your brother know what happened, all right?" he asked, helping her to her feet. He walked her over to the railing and told her to sit down before he lifted her by the waist and set her on the grass.
It was dark enough there that she couldn't see what he was doing, but she would be able to hear. Carefully, he picked up both the necklace and the bracelet, pushing them into his jacket pocket before hopping over the barrier to meet her. "Come on, sweetie. I think you need a drink."
"Well, Brooke's being rather anti-social today," Joey commented as he watched her walk out of the kitchen, a mug of coffee firmly clenched in her fist. He wasn't the only one to notice that she had walked in and poured herself a cup of coffee, claiming that she had to do something upstairs before making a speedy exit. He wasn't the only one that noticed how she had looked towards JC, her eyes filling with emotion, before it all disappeared and was replaced by nothing, almost like she had flipped a light switch. EVERYONE had noticed. It was hard not to.
"It's probably just PMS," Chris said, as if he was trying to defend her. What he was really doing was trying to defend JC.
Justin's eyes flashed with anger quickly as he looked towards him, before his eyes moved. "No, that's not what it is, is it, JC?" he asked sarcastically, before he reached into the pocket of his sweat pants. With a clatter, the bracelet landed on the wood table, before the necklace was dropped unceremoniously beside it. "THAT'S the problem, right?"
Everyone's eyes went down to the sparkling diamonds on the necklace, and the shining silver of the bracelet. Even from where JC was sitting, he could see a part of the inscription. Their initials. "Where did you get that, Justin?" he asked evenly, although he could hear a catch in his voice. No one else seemed to pick up on it, which was surprising, considering that they had been so observant in the past hour.
His arms crossed as he sat back. "What, you mean these? Well, normally, I would have gotten them from Brooklyn, but that's not the case this time. Does anyone want to take a guess where I got them from? I think I got rid of the natural suggestion here, but where else could these have come from, considering that she never took them off." He watched as three of his friends faced him with blank looks. Two, though, seemed to look very guilty, and...what else was there? Sadness, he though. "Oh, I see that Chris knows. Is there something that you would like to share with the class?"
"Not particularly. It's not my story to tell," he said stubbornly.
"But you know."
"Half of the story. Not all of it. I'm just as curious to hear what happened, but unfortunately, I know the ending. Do you have to do this now, Justin?"
His fist hit the table. "Forgive me for not being as close to Brooke as you two are, but I know when something's bothering her, and for some reason, I was the one that held her when she cried her heart out last night. Not YOU, her supposed boyfriend, or YOU, her supposed best friend. No, it was me. I sat there and listened to her whimper, and listened to her sob, and listened to her beg. Do you know what she was begging for? She was begging for you, and I'm wondering why the hell you decided to become a supreme asshole and rip apart every little bit of happiness that she found. Tell me, JC. What did you do, and WHY did you do it."
It was almost like a tennis match. Every head swiveled towards JC, who sat rather uncomfortably at the head of the table, Austin's usual seat. Austin's seat if he wasn't in France with his wife, on their honeymoon. "I don't think it's any of your business," he said softly, raising his eyes to look at his friend. There was a pleading reflection in them, but Justin wasn't going to let this go. No way in hell was he going to let this go. He wanted answers. Not only for himself, because he had to admit that he was terribly curious, but for the poor woman upstairs that couldn't understand what was going on, and why she was tossed aside like she meant nothing to the man that she loved.
She deserved answers, and Justin was the one that was going to give them to her.
"I believe that it's not only my business, but everyone's. I'll admit to the fact that it's strange for all five of us to fall in love with the same person, in different ways, of course. Everyone at this table loves Brooke as a friend. Chris practically considers her to be a sister, and you, JC. Where do we even begin with you. You're in love with her, there's no doubt about that. We can all see it. You've been in love with her since the moment that you laid eyes on her."
"I'll never deny that," he said quietly, his eyes going back down to the table. Idly, he traced a pattern in the wood with one finger, following it around the varnished knot. "I'll never deny the fact that I've loved Ne...Brooklyn as long as I've known her."
Justin shook his head. "Then why the hell did you ever even think of breaking up with her, and leaving her so helpless. You never saw her like I saw her that night. The stories that you've told us about what happened with Tim...that doesn't even begin to compare to this. There was nothing left in her. No emotions, no feelings...nothing. She could barely smile when she came back in. She didn't cry last night. No, she was mourning for something that she lost, and could you even begin to fathom what she lost?" When everyone was silent, he answered his own question. "She lost her heart, her soul, and who she believed was the man that she had been looking for all of her life. So why did you break up with her. Why did you leave her there all by herself. WHY in the GOD DAMNED WORLD did you decide to hurt her. That's all I want to know."
Very slowly, the accused took a deep breath, trying to focus on the fact that he wasn't supposed to be feeling anything. "You wouldn't understand, Justin. None of you would begin to understand, so why bother explaining it to you. I did what I had to do, and that's it. There's nothing else to it. I did what I was to...supposed to do." He almost slipped up. He almost said that he did what he was TOLD to do, which was the truth, wasn't it? He had been told to break up with her.
No, he had been forced. Threatened. Bullied into it, but none of those words would have any affect on them. They hadn't met Tim. They didn't know what kind of trouble he could cause. They wouldn't even begin to imagine what kind of trouble the bastard could cause, and the trouble that JC was wading knee deep in. It was so entwined, so messy, so...to put it plainly, it was the perfect storyline for Days of Our Lives. That's where it belonged. Not in real life.
"Try me, JC. Just try me. Tell me why you did it. I'm not as dumb as I seem to be, all right? I could probably understand it better than you could."
His head shook stubbornly. "No, you couldn't, because it doesn't seem real. None of this seems real. It never should have happened, but it did. I love Brooklyn with all my heart, and granted, I've never said the words to her, but that doesn't change a thing. She's everything to me. She's my heart, and my soul...she's my whole entire world, so did you ever step back and think that maybe this is affecting me more than it seems to be. Did you think that I could be dying inside, too. She's not the only victim here."
"You say that you're a victim. I'll take that for now. Put this in a different scenario, though. If you were driving a car, and you smashed into Brooklyn's car, but both of you got hurt...who would be the one to blame there? You. You're the one that caused this damned car crash, so why the hell are you sitting down here, pretending like nothing's wrong, when she's upstairs, shutting herself off from the world." Almost casually, like he was engaged in a friendly debate over a football game, he took a sip of coffee and then placed his mug back on the table. "You told us all about what she used to be like. How lifeless she seemed for awhile. You said that you never wanted to see her like that. Excuse me if I don't applaud, but you seemed to pass Making Brooklyn Turner Into A Zombie 101 with flying colors."
No one spoke a word for a moment, and everyone wondered if they were going to have to be the one to break the thick silence that had covered the table. JC wondered whatever happened to the breakfasts that he had at that very table, that were filled with friendly insults and fighting. The lunches that were filled with mutual flirting and shoving matches. The dinners that were filled with laughter and talk of what everyone did that day. Austin and Brooklyn had worked hard to make the whole house seem like a family lived there, when it was only the two of them, and it all seemed to disappear the moment that Justin had put the jewelry on the table.
Filled with the same apprehensions of what he was supposed to say, the exact same as yesterday, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not a single word could be squeezed through his constricted throat. "I'm not pretending that nothing's wrong," he said when he finally managed to get his voice back. It still didn't sound like JC, however, and this time, every single person picked up on it. It sounded too strained, too choked to be their friend. "It's affecting me a lot, Justin, because I don't know what to do. I shouldn't say that, because I DO know what to do in one case, but not in this case. I don't know what to do about Brooklyn, but you have to believe that I never wanted to hurt her. The last thing that I would ever want to do is hurt Brooklyn."
A loud sigh sounded from Chris. It was Justin, though, who started to talk again. "You never wanted to hurt her...tell me something. Did you hurt her intentionally? Or were you trying to help her, but hurt her anyway. I don't understand these cryptic messages that you're giving us, and I want the damned truth."
The truth. The truth was the only thing that could help him. "Both," he answered honestly, looking down at his hands as he laced his fingers together. "It was both. I hurt her purposely, but I was trying to help her at the same time, if that makes any sense at all. And I know it doesn't, because I can barely make it out myself, but that's what I meant to do. I meant to hurt her, and I meant to help her, and I ended up doing both at once." JC raised his head again to look at him. "What do you want me to say, Justin? That I'm sorry? Because I am incredibly sorry. I never meant for this to happen, but this happened merely for the reason that I agreed to fly down to Nashville that one day and meet a singer that I knew nothing about. Against my better judgment, I met the most wonderful woman, and because of that, I hurt her. What else is there to say."
"How, though?" a quiet voice asked. "How could you hurt her and help her at the same time, Jace, because I'm like Justin. I'm lost and I just heard about this." Everyone turned to look at Lance. "I've known Brooklyn pretty well as long as you've known her, and...and I don't understand how you could hurt someone like that."
"I've told you. In order to help her, I had to hurt her. What part of that don't you understand? I was trying to save her, but in order to do that...I had to...had to make her fall further than she's ever fallen before. You're right, Justin. This is worse than what happened with Tim, because she at least looked at me and talked to me, then."
A snort of disbelief sounded from the youngest person at the table. "Bravo, but don't be surprised if we don't ask for an encore. Besides, I don't think you can top this performance."
JC stood up, before his palms hit the table loudly. "That's all this is. An act. So why can't you see through it this time, when you've seen through it every other time. Just an act. Just like when we were on television, I'm playing the part that was written for me, but the script is coming to an end. The mask has to come off, and it's coming off sooner than you think. Now, if you'll excuse me, Chris and I have a flight to catch, and I have a phone call to make before I can go about getting Brooklyn back."
The one silent person in the group finally took his chance to speak. Joey lifted his head and looked up as Chris stood as well, starting to head out of the room to get his suitcase from upstairs. "You forget one thing, JC. What if Brooke doesn't want you back. What if she would rather forget all about you, like she's obviously trying to do right now."
He stood there for a moment, feeling very much like a broken man. "Then, at least I can say that I saved her life," he said so quietly that no one could hear him. But the words reassured him. At least he had been able to save her life.
"We'll be calling Miss Turner to get her input, and see if she can fly down at her convenience. Thank you, gentlemen. That's all for today." They were dismissed with a nod, and the three men, all clad in suits, raised from the table before walking to the double wooden doors, walking out. Almost instantly, Chris let out a deep breath and tugged at his tie, loosening it lightly so that it didn't feel like a noose.
"I can't believe we just did that," he muttered. "Not only is she going to be on the warpath for you, but she's going to start throwing spears at me."
JC rubbed his eyes tiredly before shaking his lawyer's hand and thanking him for coming along, before he walked away without them. "I know what you mean. I never thought that it would come to this, and he still doesn't know about it, but I guess that's best for now. I expressly told him that I didn't want him to know until everything was finished and everyone had figured everything out."
They both sat down on the wooden bench with deep sighs, looking at the wall ahead of them. "Jace, this should be some made for television movie on CBS, with Tori Spelling as the lead role. Not real life, with Brooklyn Turner on the marquee. This is wrong. This never should have happened."
"Can't blame anyone, other than me. It was MY stupidity that got us into this, and if I can, I'm going to get us out of it. I think we have a good chance, especially with your help now. If it was just me, I would have a hell of a fight on my hands, but you...at least you know what's going on. There's no way that we can lose this."
"There's always a way, but I'm hoping that we can beat it." Chris cocked his head to the side. "Come on, I saw a soda machine on the first floor in the lobby, and I'm absolutely dying of thirst. Want a can of Coke or something? I'm paying."
He chuckled ruefully. "I need some sort of caffeine in my body, and if you're buying a ninety cent can of pop, who the hell am I to turn down your offer? Let's go." They rode down in the elevator with a gathering of young lawyers, all clutching their briefcases like they were some sort of weapon. JC just shook his head when he saw his reflection. He didn't belong in that building, or in that elevator. He didn't belong to be anywhere near it.
He should have been sitting on the couch in the music room at Brooklyn's house, her leaning against him. He should be able to see the sparkle and shine of the corner cabinet of awards, and seeing her guitar resting in her lap, strumming it absentmindedly, while not even thinking of a melody. He should be able to smell her shampoo and perfume, feel her hair like silk against his skin.
Instead, he smelled nothing but the over powering scent of one of the lawyer's cologne's, and the clogging smell of leather. The glint of light off of Rolex watches. The sound of someone clearing their throat and shuffling their feet impatiently. He sighed a final time as the elevator stopped on the lobby floor, and they all spilled out, he and Chris the only ones that weren't heading for the doors.
It was like he was lost in his thoughts until he felt an icy cold Coke can pressed into his hand. Moving mechanically, he popped the top on it and raised it to his lips, closing his eyes as he turned it up, wincing when he felt the carbonation burn his throat and tears come to his eyes before he lowered it. "We have to win, even if it's only for New York, but we're going to win this, Chris. I'm not letting the asshole get away with this."
The song used in this chapter was "Crying Like A Church On Monday", by the New Radicals, from the CD, "Maybe You've Been Brainwashed, Too." I don't know if they're the exact lyrics, because a friend found them for me on the 'net, and my copy of the CD is burned from another CD, so they could be slightly wrong, but it's the best that I could do! Sorry if they're off a little.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
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