Playing Russian Roulette.

Yeah, yeah, yeah,
All of my devils are free at least,
And all my secrets revealed,
And your permission is all I need to heal.

-Sixx A.M.

The drops of blood descended down from my hand, trailing along my pale skin with a slow, thick pace, leaving paths of dark red substance across my knuckles. The beads of the disgusting matter slid off the edge of my hand and dropped into the tall, water filled glass below. Splats of red splashed over the still surface, pervading in a line of goo.

The droplets suddenly suspended in the clear liquid, creating a swirling mushroom cloud that nearly filled the entire glass. My stomach roiled at the sight, and I averted my teary gaze, breaths coming in dry sobs.

Waves of a cold, chilling sickness crashed over my bent body. The back of my throat grew dry, my insides flip-flopped until my entire torso convulsed forward. A hideous gagging noise filled the room around me… And about the time a searing pain erupted in the pit of my stomach, I realized the sound had come from me.

And no one was around to hear it.

The kitchenette and living area in the vicinity of where I remained sat empty. Voices past the aluminum walls of the RV were muffled. Outside, Stefan was speaking to venue security as to what happened, Max at his side for backup. The boys had fled to their bus to search for first aid equipment.

Devin was in the bathroom, door closed tightly. He didn’t tell me what he was doing, but I knew he was calling one of two people. Rachel or my father. With my rotten luck, both of them, and they would want to speak to me once I calmed from the day’s activities.

But how long would that take? My thoughts flashed back to my fight an hour earlier. Pieces and blurry, vague parts kept coming back in waves, bits from my five minute stint in the Atlanta grass, pummeling Josh until he bled.

I was on top of him long enough for a concerned fan to run to Escape the Fate’s signing, screaming, “Max, your girlfriend is in a fight! Juliet is in a fight!” Long enough for the boys to come running, and for Sierra to hear the ruckus and find the spot of the altercation, and for the security guards to come to Josh’s aid.

Stefan, having been there the entire time, gave me a brief recap of what happened, filling the gaps in my own memory. I remembered… barely remembered punching him the first time, then him falling to the ground. My mind faltered at that point.

Stefan told me I leapt at him and punched repeatedly, calling him colorful, unique names… and he screamed bloody murder the entire time. However, no one seemed proud of my feat. I beat the shit out of my worst enemy and my loved ones were upset about it.

Not even Max, Craig, Robert, or Bryan. They spent the entire time looking anxious, pissed, and slightly confused. Not an ounce of laughter or pats on the back. And Max and Devin were the only two to give me hugs, or console me.

Maybe after things calmed down…

The front door yanked open, sunshine and conversations flooding inside. Ghost, sitting on the tiled flooring in the kitchenette, lurched upward, ears flat against his head. His nose flung itself into the air and began sniffing.

He smelled people he didn’t recognize. The security guards, more than likely.

“Make sure your friend is alright. She beat that guy pretty well.” Security guard. “Wash any wounds. We wouldn’t want her catching anything from Mr. Torrent.” And he was a very good judge of character.

“We will. Thank you, sir.” Stefan.

Heavy shoes fell on the small steps, drawing my attention more to the front of the RV. A head of black hair appeared over the kitchenette counter, and I knew I was Stefan. He stepped up into the living area and threw a glance my way.

I smiled weakly, fidgeting my bleeding hands in a mock wave. “Am I going to jail?” A part of me had to ask. Assault didn’t carry a heavy charge in Nevada -- only twenty four hours -- but was Georgia as lenient? Had I known I’d be in an almost knock-down-drag-out fight, I’d have done research.

The door slammed shut. Max joined Stefan in a few bounds. “You’re not going to jail,” he laughed, crossing the room with Stefan hot on his heels.

“The opposite of that.” Stefan strolled across the room, stopping at the sink, back to me. “The guards said your drug test came back clean, while Josh’s came back with E and Coke in his system.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Max twitched, stopping in mid-stride for a moment, then hurried forward to the edge of the booth where I sat. I watched him for a moment. Ah, it was nothing.

It was mandatory for the cops to be called in a situation like this at the amphitheater, the nice guard who pulled me off Josh had said so. When the authorities arrived on the scene, they didn’t bother with checking wounds or anything, only took down information and made us both take a breathalyzer and a drug test.

Normal procedure, I presumed.

“So, they’re taking Josh to jail for the day for being under the influence of an illegal narcotic,” he finished. Reaching across the counter, he snatched up the roll of paper towels, ripping off three of them in a swift yank.

As Max sat down opposite me at the dinette table, Stefan flipped on the water and soaked the towels through. He placed the towels out on the table beside my bloodied glass of water.

Gingerly, he placed a gentle hand on my head. “Where’s Devin?”

“Bathroom.” I tilted my head upward to meet his gaze.

“Okay. I’ll be right back, dear.” Stefan rushed passed and disappeared into the back of the bus. I heard the bathroom door open, then slam shut.

For the first time since the fight, I allowed myself to look at my right hand. It took the brunt of all the blows and showed… badly. Three of my top knuckles were split open, my middle finger the worst of all. The blood kept coming in waves from the cuts, more than I would have imagined possible.

A thin, ragged looking cut extended along the underside of my wrist, along my tattoo. It was a fingernail track from Josh, probably trying to fend me off unsuccessfully. What could I catch from that? Could I catch anything?

Damn, where were the boys with the first aid kit? Antiseptic spray and alcohol would soon be my friend. And not the drinking alcohol. The burning, searing, painful alcohol for cleaning my raw knuckles.

I peeled one of the towels away from the others and dabbed at my first knuckle, wiping the blood away from around the diamond shaped split. It stung, but not nearly as much as my busted lip had. Cautiously, I began work on the other knuckles.

“Juliet?” Max’s voice took me by surprise. I glanced up. Max was leaning across the table. “Josh didn’t touch you, did he? Like, hurt you?”

I smiled. “No, he didn’t hurt me. The only thing he did was scratch my wrist.” I held out my arm and showed him the wound in question. “I’ll soak it in alcohol when Bryan comes back… Can I catch something like this?”

Max laughed, the beautiful sound lightning my mood for only a moment. That is, until it faltered and quit completely as he looked at the hand holding the towel. I didn’t like his expression; it was of hurt and betrayal. What the hell had I done now?

I racked my brain over everything I had said. ‘Can I catch something? Alcohol… Bryan.’ Nothing, and I hadn’t done anything, either. Did seeing me leap like a psycho and nearly kill a full grown man give him a reality check as to what he was getting into?

You’re worth it to Max, Piper. Ha. What would Gabrielle say if she was here? A girl’s perspective, one with as much to hide as myself, would be nice. Despite all she did to Craig, Leila, and myself. I loved Devin and Stefan with all of my heart and soul, but girls needed friends of their gender.

I owned absolutely none, only a few from my high school days in Los Angeles that I hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Where’s your ring?”

I glanced down at my left hand and at my ring finger. But, where my beloved faux engagement ring, there was… nothing. Bare skin and an indent where it had been for two months. It… was… gone. Gone! Fucking gone!

“Oh my fucking god!” I cried, flinging the towel back onto the table. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god damn hell. Max, I’m so sorry! I - I didn’t mean to lose it. I must have lost it while Josh--”

The bathroom door flung open, crashing against the wall. What sounded like a herd of elephants came ripping up the hallway. I whipped around in my booth. Devin rushed into the room, cell phone in one hand, the empty, solid metal magazine rack from the bathroom in the other, wielding it like a weapon.

“Who -- what’s wrong?” With a metallic zing, he smacked the rack on the refrigerator door. “Okay, I thought something was wrong. Jay, what’s wrong? I heard you cussing!”

I flashed my hand in front of me. “I lost my ring!” I wailed. “The one Max gave me!” I raked my wounded hand through my hair, ignoring the pain. “I’m so stupid!”

Devin lowered the rack to the counter top. “When did you lose it?”

“Probably during the fight.” My finger looked so awful by itself without the ring I had grown so attached to. It had become a constant reminder of him like we were actually married. “Oh, Max, I’m so sorry I lost it.”

Max rose from the table. “Yeah, it’s really nothing.” But, I heard the extra tone in his voice. Yet another thing that I didn’t like.

I flung a searing gaze at Devin over my shoulder. Leave, leave, leave. Surely he knew me well enough o know the difference between my expressions.

Devin finally caught on, grabbing the magazine rack. “I’m going to call your father,” he said, and turned on his heel. “Back in a minute!” Ha! I was right! He fled back down the hall.

“Max, I’m sorry,” I whispered, turning to face him again.

“Yeah, I lied. I don’t know, seeing you in my ring made it feel like you were mine.” He shrugged. “I kind of liked it… But, it’s not like you lost it on purpose.”

“No, no, I didn’t. I promise.”

Max leaned in and pecked a kiss on my lips. “I know. Listen, Julie, I’ll be right back. I’ll find the others and bring you the first aid kit.” With a final pet of my messy hair, he departed out of the RV and left me in the silence.

I need another ring.

X X X X

Max did return only minutes later with Bryan and Leila, and a first aid kit fit for an ambulance. Devin, ever the paranoid, doused my hand in everything until only a super mutated virus could infect me. Then, Stefan wrapped it in gauze bandages tightly. He made sure I could barely move my dominant hand.

The boys left for their set, and I babysat Leila until Craig came back hours later -- close to dark -- to pick her up, Max at his side with a question. “Can I stay on your bus for the night?” We all obliged. Craig and Leila left. Devin crashed for the night, and Stefan began driving to our next venue at two in the morning. Around the same time, Max fell asleep on the couch.

And Ghost and I were left alone, wide awake at three forty-five AM. And there was something I had to do.

The flow of the notebook computer screen illuminated my nook of the kitchenette booth all around me. I stared at the screen sized window for my webcam, looking at myself with my hair combed and wearing my Invisible Children shirt. I looked okay for me.

Good. That meant I wouldn’t look like a fool when I did what no one was expecting… apologizing and explaining to my fans for many things. Running my index finger along my track pad, I pressed the ‘record video’ button.

Business time.

“Hey, everyone. Piper here and this is an unrelated Warped Tour post, but I really want everyone to listen to me.” I pulled my knees up to my chest. What could I say? “If you were at the ATL Warped stop or you’ve been on Youtube or the Buzznet homepage, then you know I’ve had a pretty shitty day.”

Smooth. A “shitty” day entailed rather normal issues, like not being able to hold anything or one’s dog dying. Let’s try ruined career, ruined reputation, busted knuckles, lost engagement hope, pity from my friends, and even more scrutiny than I already had.

No, shitty was a bad descriptive word for the day I had.

“--a very shitty day.” My heart ached. “I -- I was recently in an… altercation with a fellow - well, a reporter for havoc Music, named Joshua Torrent. There will no doubt be rumors about why I attacked him in the middle of the amphitheater grounds, but I don’t want you to listen to any of it. It’s not true.”

I paused. Going into detail did not have to happen; if Rachel had her way, Josh’s evil interview would never see the light of day, so needn’t screw myself over in that aspect. But I needed to cover all bases.

“The truth is, I knew Josh outside of work, thanks to my old boyfriend, Radke. Yes, everyone knows him.” I gave a quick flash of my tongue. “He got more involved in my life than I planned on letting him, and, as a result, he became the owner of some of my deepest, darkest secrets… which he then spilled to a trashy interview at Alternative Press.”

I patted myself on the mental back. The perfect way to put it without giving too much away. The fans would never be more the wiser.

“That certain video is not supposed to ever grace the internet, but if it does…” My stomach threatened to heave for the second time today. I swallowed it, breathing deeply. “--But if it does… I wish I could tell you that those secrets are rumors, too, but I would be lying my ass off. Whatever he said, is more than likely true.”

My eyes stung. “And I’m really sorry, my amazing fans. I didn’t mean to let you down, but I did… by beating the shit out of a bastard.” I waved my bandaged hand at my webcam and clicked the record button again, ending my video.

I brought up our Buzznet page -- all ready and waiting on the task bar -- and clicked my newly saved video into the upload slot. The loading bar appeared, and I leaned backward in the booth. I suddenly felt exhausted.

Who knew making an apology video would be such an energy zapping ordeal. Possibly it was because I had ever become accustomed to apologizing often. I hardly ever did anything to be forced to do so. Usually it was someone else who owned me an admission of guilt.

But this was needed. My fans deserved to know.

I heaved a light sigh, peeking over my shoulder and at the couch. Max was laying on his side, head resting on the right sofa arm. Ghost lay on the floor at his feet, asleep as well. Something about it made me smile. How was he so gorgeous, even while sleeping?

Sleeping was not an attractive action for the norm, but Max, tousled, wavy hair and ruffled clothing, made it adorable. His fans would adore it.

I snatched up my phone, activating the camera, and slid off the booth. I tiptoed across the room, as quietly as my bare feet could on the tiled, then carpeted flooring. Reaching the couch, I dropped to me knees in front of Max and raised my phone for the best shot.

Once I found it, I pressed in the capture option -- and the loud sound of the mock shutter went off, breaking the dead silence. A wave of surprise hit me, and I knocked over onto my ass, dropping my phone. Ghost went off into a tizzy, barking up a storm.

Devin and Max were asleep, dammit! And just for a cute picture!

I brought my face down to Ghost. “Shh! Shh, Ghost!” I hissed. “Don’t wake uncle Dev and Max up, please! Shh! Stop barking--”

He was being stubborn, though. Desperate times, desperate measures. Sorry, Ghost, but threats is the only way and you know it.

“Stop barking or I am never feeding you again!” Yes, I lowered myself to threatening to starve my puppy. However, it was the single way to get Ghost and Kit Kat to behave if I really wanted them to. I didn’t have to use it on Ghost, but I did several times before Kit Kat was spayed, back when she was rambunctious.

Ghost’s jaws stilled.

If I knew one thing abut my furry children, it was that they loved food more than anything. Sometimes I even threatened them with baths, their one most hated task in the entire world. Ronnie said I could be considered a bad dog owner, but fuck him!

I knew they needed discipline. Thanks, Radke.

“Juliet, your-ass-is-in-the-air.” I barely recognized the groggy voice, but I did know the warm hand that wound its way up my back. Max. The way he formed the words put a jolt in my insiders, almost fire like.

I placed my elbows and fore arms on the carpet, smirking to myself. I arched my back and pushed my ass further in the air. I glanced back at him. “Why? Do you want me to put it down?”

He didn’t say anything at first. His body language, however, gave him away. The hot look on his face, the fire flaming in his eyes. He still wanted this, me. After he saw me attack someone he knew, then saw me act like I had been through war and hell and after he saw me cry like a newborn infant when the antiseptic spray seared in blinding pain on my knuckles.

He wanted me despite my ruined reputation.

And I wanted him… bad, all of a sudden. Slowly, I turned on all fours and climbed onto the couch and on top of Max’s hips. His hands grabbed my face and pulled me down, our lips meeting roughly. I pressed my chest against his and wound my left hand into his knotted hair.

Finally, this was my prize for getting through the day without an unnecessary bad behavior besides the fight. Max. Josh got a nasty lip and a black eye, and I got a few wounded knuckles and the sexiest guy on Warped. Seemed like Josh got the short end of the bargain.

While I --

Max cut off my steady stream of thoughts by sliding one hand up my shirt and shoving my bra up and over my breasts, leaving it clasped. He pushed my shirt up, leaving my chest exposed to the open air. His rough fingertips tweaked my already hard nipples, and I broke the kiss enough for a whimper to pass my lips.

I immediately dove back for another kiss, but Max stopped me with a hand to my shoulder. “Wait,” he panted. “Are you positive you’re okay with this, Juliet?” In other words, he didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them crushed by my pathetic issues.

But I was over them… I was sure of it.

“Yes, I’m positive--”

“No, not in my RV!” My head snapped up in the direction of the RV’s front, and I saw one of the two curtains shielding Stefan’s post from the living room was pulled halfway open. He heard everything that happened. “Get a room if you two want to do that!”

“Okay, okay!” I yelled back, sitting up. I shifted my shirt and reached beneath it, placing my bra in its rightful place. “Do not tell Devin,” I added maliciously, and swung my legs over the side of the couch. Avoiding Max’s eyes, I stood up. “Promise me, Cubbins!”

“Promised, Oakes.”

I looked down at Max, who was smirking like something was hilarious. “He has a point, you know.” I crossed the room and jerked the curtains closed. No more eavesdropping tonight. “This is his RV. It would be rude to fuck on his couch.”

My cheeks flamed. Did I honestly just say that? “Fuck on his couch”? That was not me. I would never say something like that to Max of all people. Ronnie and Stefan, okay. Craig, Bryan, and Robert, too. I would even say that to Devin before Max! Maybe I did catch something from Josh and it was messing with my normal personality.

I fled to the other side of the room and yanked open the fridge. Food… I needed something to eat. Thanks to the day before, I had failed to remember dinner or lunch, and do did Devin, the food police. Hectic to say the least.

I peered into the lighted area. It was well stocked with rather unhealthy snacks from our last midnight trip to the nearest Walmart. I grabbed two bottles of water and a clear, circular, plastic container filled with little lemon flavored muffins covered in lemon and vanilla frosting.

Devin was having an odd craving for sweets while shopping and pounced on them.

They turned out to be amazing, and I couldn’t think of a better time to fling myself into a sugar coma than right now. Using my foot, I closed the door and motioned at the table. “Want a midnight snack, Max? I need to work a little for a minute.”

I sat the water and the sweets on the table and slid into the chair, nudging myself in front of my computer. The video was almost finished uploading. Good. I could attempt to sleep soon… Damn, but where would Max sleep?

No, that could be left for later.

I popped open the top of the lemon bites and stole one from the top layer. The loading bar went up a notch. So slowly. How did Devin do this everyday? A couple of times a day, even? I would be insane by now.

Max slipped into the booth beside me. “What the hell are you eating?” He plucked my lemony treat from my hands. “Oooh!” Instead of handing it back, he took a huge bite out of it, half of my muffin gone as quickly as that.

I whined shrilly and smacked his leg. “That was mine!” I stole another from the container and nibbled on the delicious side. “You are a thief, Max.” The rest of the statement, I grumbled to myself, watching my glowing screen.

Minimizing the Buzznet window, I brought up another. “Stealing my lemon bite, being hot--” I clicked on the Warped Tour ‘09 website, then onto the dates.

Max finished his and grabbed one of the waters. “You know, we need some alone time before we go home.”

“I know, but I think I have an idea.” I scrolled down to the current date, happening tomorrow, studying over the dates carefully. Off days… off days… Aha! Right between Kansas City, Kansas and Boise, Idaho, there were two free, off days.

“What’s your idea?” Max asked, sipping on his drink.

“During the off days--” I tapped the computer screen. “--Devin and Stefan said they would be renting a hotel room because they would like to sleep in a nonmoving bed together, so, how about we get a room in the same hotel?”

“Craig wanted a hotel room, too, for Leila to sleep in an actual bed.” Max smiled brightly. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yes, it is.” Six days away. Only six days. That was very soon.

Something clicked. Oh, my video! I brought Buzznet back up. The video was finished uploading leaving a tiny form to fill out. In the title slot, I typed “Juliet’s apology”. Of course that would get the fans’ attention. I entered, and the video was finished.

Perfect. Hopefully everyone would understand and my career wasn’t completely bust.

“What did you upload?”

“An apology video.” I closed the window and opened the start page, pressing the shut down key. “Telling my fans sorry for getting into a public fight and warned them just in case Josh’s interview gets posted against Rachel’s wishes… which makes me slightly nauseous thinking about it.”

I closed my computer and shoved it away.

“I’m tired,” I muttered.

“Sleep on the couch with me,” Max offered, but grabbed my hand before I could respond and dragged me over to the couch, where he laid down and pulled me beside him. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

“Oh, by the way, you were awesome today.”

There. I could fall asleep happily knowing at least one person thought I fought well.

X X X X

“Juliet--”

“No, don’t wake her up!” Too late, already awake. Thanks, Dev. “She doesn’t need to know about this right now. It can wait until she wakes up, Stefan. Please.” Know what? Are they breaking up? Or did Max abandon me?

Slowly, I moved my hand out behind me. My fingers touched warm cotton. No, the latter was wrong. Max was still asleep with me. I cuddled closer to him, sighing contently. I could get used to this.

“For me, Stefan? I love you, so, please don’t tell her right now.” The first option was also wrong. If they were breaking up, there would be no ‘I love yous’ and a whole lot of name calling and damning to the deepest, darkest pits of hell.

“I love you, too, but--” He fell silent and footsteps crossed the room. There was a thud, then a click, and another voice filled the thick, awkward feeling air.

“Yes, Ronnie abused her, but that doesn’t give her a right to get with Max Green while he’s in jail, and while they are still together. Piper may have said that they were broken up, but it’s a complete lie. They’re still together.” The fuck? My groggy, tired brain couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing.

Who knew about Ronnie and I?

Um… I didn’t ask you to trash talk Piper, Joshua,” a woman’s voice said. “Why are you telling us this? Alternative Press doesn’t do trash talking or mudslinging. Besides, I like Piper Oakes and I saw an interview where she said she would break up with Ronnie on return home. So what?”

“That’s not all. Piper is addicted to Ecstasy, I know it for a fact.”

Just like the day before, my body froze where I lay. My lungs stopped, my mouth went dry, heart palpitated, and a pain worthy of bloodcurdling screams coursed through my stomach. I felt nauseous on top of all of it, like I was going to lean over and puke onto the side of the couch. Or on Max.

Josh and the AP girl. The interview got out, but how? Rachel was supposed to never let the video grace the internet. Maybe she couldn’t stop them… or someone evil got their hands on it.

The click of my track pad sounded again. “This isn’t good, Dev, my love. Julie’s career at Buzznet is in some sudden deep shit. We need to tell her.”

Without a bit of warning and before I even realized it, I sobbed viciously, my body lurching forward. I smacked my hands over my mouth, but it was too late. They heard me.

“Jay, are you okay?” Devin asked.

I dropped my hands and opened my eyes, glancing at my best friends. They stood by my open computer on the table, eyes on me, looking as awful as I felt. And, on the computer screen was a full wide shot of Josh, the AP girl, and the girl’s cameraman.

So it wasn’t the Alternative Press who posted the video. It was Josh’s camera guy filming from another angle! The notion of that never crossed my mind. Again, that was exactly something he would do, the bottom feeding dirt bag!

“I’ awake.” I detached myself from Max and pushed myself onto my feet. Max didn’t even stir. “I - I heard everything.”

“It’s fine, Jay--”

I cut Devin off. “No, it’s not,” I retorted. “My career is ruined, my reputation is shot, and my fan base will hate me now. I’m sure of it.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to quit Buzznet, but I highly doubt you guys will let me, huh?”

The answers were expected.

“No.”

“Not at all.”

“Then I need to make a video -- well, another one, apologizing for my past and setting things straight. The fans are worthy of that.” I sighed and glanced down at my bandaged hand. “Now, can someone get water and the lemon bites while Devin gets his camera? I need to apologize my ass of.”