The Boy Next Door.

[Mazz.

My mind flooded with a million responses, excuses, explanations and each one was a lie. Lying had gotten me into this mess and it was about time I learnt my lesson. I bit my lip, the sinking feeling in my stomach taking a more dominate effect on me. My editor stared me down with hard eyes but I held my own, equally poisonous glare.

My knees feeling weaker, unstable as I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. I looked down again at the pictures sprawled out on Mrs. Cullon’s darkly stained, wooden desk. The one of me and Nick locked in a tight embrace jumped out at me, and I fought off a small smile that threatened to play on my lips and break my calm facade. I lost myself for a moment in the image, remembering the night before, and the brilliant mood that had just been demolished.

I looked up confidently, feeling a fire start in my core, feeling the fight that my whole being was ready and willing to do. I eyed Mrs. Cullon carefully as I decided precisely on the words I would state my case with. Each and every line, word and syllable was laid out in my mind, like an actor with lines etched onto their soul, meaning every word that’s breathed out. I took a deep breath and she raised an eyebrow in interest.

“I recognise that not informing you was a mistake, but I was simply trying to protect them. The family did after all move here to stay out of the public eye. However to regain your trust and to make up for my appalling actions, I would like to make a proposal.” I paused and judged her reaction so far, but her face was still a blank easel. I caught a slight movement in her eyes and I took that as a hint to go on. It was, after all worth a shot, “I will conduct an in depth interview, which will be the first since they arrived here. I can also offer you an interview and in depth report on Joe Jonas’s relationship with a local girl.”

I took a deep breath again, and for a few terrifying seconds my hawk eyed editor stayed silent and slowly sat down in her chair. She crossed her legs and entwined her fingers, swivelling gently back and forth.

A deep childish desire wanted to demand a turn on the chair, but I forced my mind to concentrate. I looked her dead in the eyes and after an age she cracked a rare smile, “I was hoping you would come through for me. I think your plan sounds like a deal, just the first half. I will keep the Joe Jonas file closed for now, in case you play up again.” She extended her hand and I shook it back firmly with a tight smile, “I’m proud of you Marina, you have a strong future in this business.”

With that she ushered me out of her office and I took off faster than a speeding bullet the second that the lock clicked shut behind me. I let out a long shaky breath as I reached my desk and sat down, easing my now shaking legs. The blood rushed around my body, my heart beating heavily under my chest.

Folding my arms on the desk, I buried my head into them, letting out a slight whimper of self-pity. I was officially screwed. Not only would Nick be completely and utterly against doing this, but I pretty much had nothing to make him want to help me. His loving words flooded through my head and I uttered a small helpless prayer that this would work out. Never the less; I was in for a long ride... if I was to pull this off.

Anne.

I leaned back in my chair taking in the breath taking scenery around me. I leaned back and the front legs of the fold up, plastic chair that had somehow survived from the 70’s, lifted up off the ground. My feet kept a false sense of grip on the aluminium pole that separated the panes of glass which formed a barrier to the deadly drop from the edge of the concrete balcony. I glanced at the elegant easel that held the large canvas proudly. The canvas which held a painting half-finished.

I sighed at my lack of progress. The canvas that I so desperately wanted to fill, to preserve the last of my father’s memory I had, was no further along in production, than 2 months ago. I had no time, no focus for the painting ever since Joe came into my life. It frustrated me every time I thought about it, I should make time for it but I never seem to get around to it. There is always dinner at the Jonas’s, hanging with Marina, helping mother and heck I even found time to knit a scarf. But still I seemed to lack the will to set up and pour my heart out onto the canvas. Maybe this relationship isn’t as good for me as I first thought and hoped. Maybe Joe was really just holding me back from the important stuff, or rather he was distracting me. Maybe I wanted to be distracted.

I groaned out loud and processed the thought of being single again. My heart gave a painful throb who was I kidding, I had stupidly let him crawl too far under my skin already, I wouldn’t be able to handle losing him. My mind started to whir into over drive, telling me that it was all the more reason to get him out of my life before he could hurt me.

I took a deep breath to calm my racing mind and exhaled long and slow, pushing further back on my chair. I felt the chair tipping out of its balance but I was sure the door behind me would catch me any second.

My world continued to tip backwards, and my pulse quickened as I continued my decent. Maybe I was further out than I realised. I inwardly scolded my blind faith and stupidity. I braced myself for a painful landing as I saw the sky tip up and the roof grace my line of sight. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and prayed I didn’t hit my head. I suddenly felt very out of control and I hated every second of it.

I cracked open an eye, sensing my lack of my movement. I crumpled my nose with confusion as to why my landing was so... well I didn’t even feel a jolt. I opened my other eye and was met with an amused and slightly confused looking honey skinned man. I stared up into his eyes, getting consumed by their dark hazelnut colour, then I realised that I was still tilted backwards, “Um c...could you?” I stuttered out, breaking my stare.

He gave me a smirk and tipped the chair back into its natural position. My head spun a little as I stood up, tilting the world around me even though I was immobile. I turned around slowly, and went to thank Joe but I couldn’t see him in the doorway. I turned back around and saw him looking closely at the painting, his nose almost touching the canvas.

He spoke without looking back at me, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you painted. It’s pretty awesome, even though it’s barely started.”

I groaned and rubbed my temple in frustration anger bubbling in my stomach, “Look it’s something personal. Can you just please take your nose out of my stuff.” I snapped getting annoyed at his close proximity to my hard work.

My words flew back at me and hit me straight across the face when Joe turned around to face me, “Well sorry for being interested in what you do.” He put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Joe.” My voice caught in my throat, all of the thoughts from before flooding back to me. Maybe it would just be better to get out of this now. He had no right to poke around in things he doesn’t understand.

He walked towards me with a somber expression, “What’s it for?”

All the irriation, anger and sadness flooded out of me as the question left his lips, “It’s none of your god damned beeswax. That’s what it is. You wouldn’t fucking understand.”

His eyes flared up, his whole body tensed up. He looked shocked that I would swear, “No need to get pissy with me. I just thought maybe as your boyfriend you might be able to share. But apparently I’m not that important.”

“Well maybe you’re not. Maybe it’s because of you that painting is still unfinished and all memories of my father are still flying out the window. Like fucking dust in the wind and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Maybe I’m the worst daughter in the existence because I can’t stop myself from forgetting.”A sob ripped through my chest as I spat out the last word viciously. My voice reaching its crest. I dropped to the floor as my legs gave way beneath me; from the intense rush of emotion.

I felt a tear assault my cheek leaving a wet stain in its midst. I looked up at Joe who was standing dumbfounded. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and tried to collect myself. But his large, warm hands settled on my shoulders, “I’m so sorry but I don’t know what to say.” He uttered sadly, “Just wish you had told me.”

Another sob ripped through me as more suppressed emotions bubbled to the surface. He moved to embrace me but I shrugged him off, my heart breaking as I did so. I wanted him to make it better, I wanted him to wrap he in his arms and make me forget about everything, take away all the pain that was shredding me up inside but I just couldn’t. I just couldn’t let him. I had to do this.

“You need to go.” I choked out. And I felt him shy away from me, his hands ghosting across my skin leaving a feint tingling on my skin but I knew he didn’t leave. A cool breeze floated in through the open door and brushed against my bare shoulders. My body trembled but not because of the cold but because of the memory that single breeze held.

Being wrapped in my father’s strong arms, the cold wind battling with body to get through. The last memory I have. Everything after that is missing his warm, kind and humorous presence. A low wail escaped my control and I swallowed back another sob threatening to crush me. Joe was still in the room, standing protectively over me and watching me fall to pieces. I didn’t need him to see me like this, “Please.” I croaked out.

The one word meant everything. I felt him slip from the room and leave me to my own pitiful misery. I turned to face the balcony where the canvas still sat, patiently. I grappled to get up and somehow I made it to the chair and picked up the first brush.

I spent god knows how long, spreading not only paint but also my emotions and memories onto my project. I noticed that the sun was now dimming behind me, telling me that it was time to pack up. I carefully washed out each of my father’s brushes and dried them off before laying each one in the wooden box engraved with his initials G.R.J. Gregory Richard Jurien. I traced the letters with my finger and then placed the box inside the cupboard.

I noticed that my hands were plastered with paint, same with my elbows and strangely enough my shoulder had a large streak of white pain over it. I decided to just go and have a shower, give the paint some more time to finish drying before I packed it away. I ducked into my bathroom and caught my reflection, I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the drop of red pain on my nose. I had somehow managed to smudged myself up a beard.

I never seemed to be able to paint without getting covered in it. I hoped in the shower and let the hot water wash away all of the sadness and pain that had infected me. I stepped out feeling a lot more settled and calm. My mind kept wandering off into shades of... Joe. I had to work hard to keep it away, but for now it was working.

I wrapped a bright blue towel around my middle, even though I was home alone, I never really was one for the nudie run. I tussled up my soaked locks and shook some of the access water out. I check for any missed paint before stepping out into my room.

I noticed that the sun was almost completely out and the last remnants of light bounced off of the canvas. I padded slowly across the carpet and out onto the balcony. I couldn’t believe how much just poured out of my today, it was almost finished and that thought almost scared me more that if it never got done.

It was almost as if I needed that extreme emotional push from Joe to get it out of my system. Not that he really did anything, I guess. I threw my head back in frustration, catching a glimpse of the night’s first star as I did. A soft tear trickled down my cheek, not out of sadness. It just fell. I smiled as it fell from my face and was lost into the pull of gravity.

I felt better, but at the same time worse. It was like I was still on falling backwards on the chair, out of control and this time I didn’t know if I had Joe there to stop me, to catch my fall. What I really needed was to STOP thinking about him.

Why did leaving him behind have to hurt so much. I kept examining the sky, watching as each star revealed itself from the curtain behind which it hid. Like a nocturnal animal that came out to dance in the dead on night and scurried back to its home for the day. I felt oddly at peace looking out into the night sky, like the blackness swallowed the melancholy that had consumed me.

Then a hand ghosted against my skin and I flew around giving off an involuntary scream. I found myself face to face with Kevin who was screaming straight back at me in surprise. It started to sound like an obscure modern age techno song, “Why are we screaming?” I asked once I managed to free myself of the loop of AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

He trailed off his scream leaving it sounding like a very dull, ‘Ahhhhh!’ Then he stopped altogether and looked at me with a smile that went straight to his gentle brown eyes, “Actually I don’t really know. I just wasn’t expecting you to start screaming like that and I got carried away.”

My face flushed as I felt his gaze rake me up and down. He stopped and smirked as he walked past me onto the balcony. I held my breath as he glanced at the painting but he surprised me by ignoring and looking up at the stars.

“Have you ever noticed how peaceful stargazing makes you feel.” He whispered into the night as if he has read my own mind from before, “Come on let’s pack this painting away before the night air kills it.” He went to lift up the canvas but I rushed over to his side and pried it off before he could lay a finger on it. I gave him a smile of thanks as he skilfully packed up the easel.

He carried it back inside for me as I set the painting into the cupboard. He left the easel leaning up against the glass, turned back to me and gave me another once over. Yes ok... was still wearing a towel... not my fault he decided to pop on in. Joe probably sent him over to do his dirty work anyway, not that I want to hear a word from him, even if it is relayed by his big brother.

I was taken out of my rant/sulk when I noticed that he was slowly edging closer to me with an odd expression on his face. He placed a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it down along my arm, his eyes burning into my skin as if he wanted to see under it. He looked back up at me and removed his hand, “I’m so looking forward to spending more time with you.” He brushed his hand against my cheek, “In LA.” With that he gave me a wink and turned away, “Gotta fly Anne.”

And then he was gone, without a single mention of Joe. Just him acting very strange...Wait. LA? Los Angeles? Why, what, when...who...how!?!?! I groaned out loud, Oh man, why can’t my life just go back to plain and boring. I liked it better back then. Why hadn’t Joe said anything?

I touched my cheek where I could still feel Kevin’s touch that was so much different than Joe’s. So much softer and warmer. Why was he acting so strange. I sighed and put it down to the fact that all of that family was a little bit odd. I just hope that Marina knows what is going on, maybe she can shed some light on the matter and just remove some of the wool from my eyes. Just so I can see where I’m going.