"I wasn't asking about you." I screamed at him.
"oh yeah, not what I heard."
"well trust me, I wouldn't make my life revolve around some stupid, arrogant, manwhore anyways." I felt the rage inside of me with that last sentence.
I walked away with my head held high, no regrets, nothing. It felt like a ton of brick had been lifted off my shoulders, I had relief from him.
He ran up and grabbed my arm tightly, I tried to jerk away but his grip only got tighter. "Let go of me I'm going home!" "No you're not!" and with that, everything went black.

This story contains racing, drinking, drugs, and alcohol. Other celebrities and Justin's friends will be featured. This story is full of twists and turns that you won't see coming.


30. Chapter 29

 I looked at him with a blank face, he ad lied so much in the past, how could I trust another word that came out of his mouth.

   "Justin, how can I ever-

He cut me off with a kiss. His hand slowly made it's way to my lower back and his other hand on my cheek. The hand on my lower back pulling me into the kiss and the hand on cheek keeping my head still. He was putting so passion into this kiss when it was over he was out of breathe.

   "Please just get in the car." he held the door open for me. I slipped inside.

"Ok, I would prefer to have this discussion in a public setting..." he said, "That way we don't have a screaming match."

   My stomach was still doing summer saults from his kiss. "No problem." I managed to pull out.

He pulled into a diner that was open 24 hours.

   "This ok?" he was being more polite now and it was really fucking awkward.

"Sure." I kept my responses simple. I didn't want him ti think his kiss had changed my mind on how pissed I was at him.



   Kiss, everytime I thought about it, I just....ughhh....FOCUS



He opened the door to the diner and told the hostess "two" when she asked "How many?"

This place was empty. There was maybe one other person actually eating here, and he was on the complete other side of the restaurant.

   "Hey ya'll, what can I get'cha to drank?" a lady, our waitress, with big red curly hair came over. She smelled of smoke with a dirty complexion, but had he most beautiful eyes. They were as blue as the sky on a summer day with no clouds in the sky.

   "Yeah, I'll have a coke." Justin said trying to smile.

"And for you?" she looked at me.

"Sweet tea, no lemon. Thanks." I turned back to my menu.

   "So what do you want to know?" Justin began.

"Can you ask me that in a minute, I am trying to figure out what I want." I never took my eyes off the menu, but I could feel his eyes watching me. Questioning my new confidence.


The waitress came back over with our drinks and took our food order. She took our menus from us and now it was time for "the talk"

   "It started off when I was little." he began. "I had a happy family, ask Ryan, no family was happier. We constantly went on vacations, it was almost every weekend it felt like." he was smiling to himself.

  "Anyways, one time we traveled all the way to Mexico. It was crazy, my first time out of the country, I was so happy. Anyways, my dad had to go take care of business. His job always paid for these crazy vacations, may I remind you." his smile slowly fell, "Well my dad never returned. My mom and I returned back home. I didn't dare ask my mom what happened because she looked so fragile, like she was going to fall apart. We got back home and a week later my mom told me to go to bed. I did as she said. I was almost asleep when she hid me under the bed, she pushed blankets in front of me so I couldn't see anything, but I heard,  I heard it all." His hands imitated a gun. "bang. bang." he practically whispered.

    I reached my hands out for his. His head was hung low. 

"We all have bad pasts. Trust me."

   He pulled his hands out of mine, and stared up.

"Yeah?" he scoffed, "And what's yours?"

   I was shocked, I was trying to comfort him and this is what I got. "Those scars you asked about? They are from my dad. He is abusive. My mother tried to fight him off and get him to stop. He used to hold guns and knives to us. Make us do certain things. If I didn't listen, I got beat on the back, or cut if it was real bad." My eyes began to water, and chin began to treble. "Anyways, my mom decided to fight back once, for us. She took one of his guns to him. He manage to get the gun and shot her. Right in the chest. I saw it all. Anyways, he's locked up and I'm here with my grandma."

   His face was blank. He was in shock.

"So yes, some of us know what it is like. You're not alone." I whispered.

   "Looks like we all come with our own personal baggage." he responded.

We both looked up at the waitress as she slid the food in front of us.

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