Never Again

Shopping with Kellan was an experience I’d never forget. We searched store after store for clothes, furniture, little trinkets and items that I’d never need. Kellan made sure that I had everything that I’d desire in a new home. He bought photo frame after photo frame, vase after vase and throw pillows after throw pillows. In the middle of Hard Rock Café, where we dined for lunch, Kellan handed me the newspaper, red circles marked around the various apartments to let.

“I did this earlier this morning,” Kellan told me, ploughing through his salad and steak. “Thought it might help.”

I smiled at him, sipping my sprite. “It has, thanks.” I stared at the apartments. “Wow, these are expensive.”

“Is Charlotte gonna be living with you?” asked Kellan, setting down his salad fork. He paused in his eating to stare across the table at me.

I shook my head and scanned the list again. “Nope,” I said, popping the last syllable. “She’s going to stay with her parents and mooch off of them for a while, I think. She could do with the cash.”

“Right,” Kellan nodded appreciatively, sipping his drink. “Sounds fair enough. Anything else we’re missing?” He bit into his salad and dressing. “I think we got it pretty much covered.”

Nodding, I smiled and set the paper down, taking a forkful of my pasta. Kellan ate in silence for a moment before he grinned at me.

“Y’know the tabloids are going wild over this right? Lovebirds moving in together, tragedy sparks romance was yesterday’s, I think. You’re lucky I like you so much,” he joked, smiling his million dollar smirk. “So how’s life been with the ex?”

“Joe?” Kellan nodded. “He’s… I don’t know. Taylor actually seems like a nice girl. Not the Valley kind. Sure, she’s a bit high maintenance, but how many celebrities aren’t? I’m confused though. Nick’s been dropping hint bombs everywhere. He’s always got something to say, but it’s like he’s afraid of getting caught saying it. Kevin’s just bubbly as always, trying to look for the best in people. It’s rather sickening, actually,” I joked, fighting another smile. “I have another fitting with Taylor.”

“She’s chosen a dress?”

“I’m doing the last two measurements on Wednesday,” it was now a breezy Friday afternoon. “Should be fun.”

“I bet.”

“What about you? With filming and everything else?”

Kellan rolled his eyes, dangling his fork at me, “I must say you’re life is far more entertaining than any film I’ll ever get a part in.”

With an odd little quirk of my lips, I rose a brow. “…I think I’m going to say thanks.”

Kellan smiled silently.

___________________________

Five hours later had me return to the Jonas suite, dropping my handbag on the coffee table. Kellan had, gallantly, offered to take my purchases to his house, leaving me with a bag of clothes. Tonight would be my last night with the Jonases. A door closed and I glanced up to see Joe leave his bedroom, hair tousled and curled. Clad in a plaid black and white button shirt and black jeans, he stared at me.

“Hey.”

As he greeted me I tore my eyes away from his dishevelled appearance, knowing I was the envy of millions of girls around the world. It was obvious he’d been sleeping, his shirt was crinkled on the chest and sleeves. “Hi.”

Joe paused before striding forward, grabbing a mug and coffee sachet off of the table, complimentary of the hotel. “Nick’s out with Big Rob. Kevin’s in the pool.” He said monotonously, listening to the kettle whistle. I just stared at his back, gazing at his stiff posture. He was obviously uncomfortable. “Do you want a…?”

“No thank you.” I responded, my tone clipped. “I, we, stopped off at Starbucks on the way back.”

He turned then to face me, dark eyes curious. His tanned face gazed at me. “Did… did you have a nice time?” He asked casually.

I sat on the sofa, watching as he in turn watched me. “Fine thanks.”

“How was Kellan?”

“He’s fine.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Five years ago, when Joe and I had been the closest of friends, I could rely on him to make some smartass comment to lift the tension. Instead, we were left to flounder, drowning in the dying conversation. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, making his drink as the kettle boiled. “I’m going to sit.” He commented carefully. I knew that was simply waiting for my reaction.

I shrugged. “It’s your suite.”

We basked in silence for ten minutes or so, Joe drinking his afternoon coffee and me staring at the carpet, looking at the patterns made by the suction of the vacuum. I twiddled my thumbs, unsure of what to do.

“I’m sorry,” Joe blurted, looking at me. He set down his empty mug and leant back on the parallel sofa, blinking rapidly. “So unbelievably sorry-”

“I think I heard this before,” I mumbled, ready to stand up. As I did so, Joe copied me, pushing his arm forward to stop me. The motion paused me momentarily.

“No, Rose, I-”

“Don’t, Joe. Not now. Let’s get over this please. We’re not good for one another,” his eyes flashed with hurt at my words, “Just, leave it be.”
“I can’t!” argued Joe, taking a step forward. We stood only a foot apart. “I’m thinking of you constantly, Rose. You’re all that’s on my mind. In meetings, on stage, at dinner, in my sleep. You plague me.”

“So sorry,” I huffed, grabbing my purse, attempting to edge around the older male. Joe stopped me with a look,

“Rose, I mean it, I lo-”

And the door to the suite opened, a very drenched Paul Kevin Jonas II walking through the door, a cream towel wrapped around his neck. His curls lay flat on his head, a look of surprise mixed with confusion written on his face. “Hey,” he greeted, waving a solitary hand.

Taking Kevin’s entrance as my distraction, I sidestepped Joe and hurried into my room, smiling awkwardly at the brothers, hearing Joe’s sarcastic remark be snapped towards his older sibling.

“What impeccable timing you have, bro.”