You Saved Me

Would you believe me if I told you I met Nick Jonas in an alley way in the middle of Chicago on a rainy night in April?

No?

I wouldn't either.

I also wouldn't believe that he was crying or even a little tipsy.

But he was, and I did meet him in that alley.

I had never seen someone so upset before. He couldn't form full sentences whatsoever, he just sobbed and threw his arms around me.

I'm not the hugging type. Actually, I'm not the people type either. I don't like most people and I don't need friends. I'm a loner.

The only reason I had come down this alley in the first place was because it was a shortcut to my apartment. I saw the guy leaning against the wall, covering his face. I am 98% cold and 2% caring. That 2% pecked it's way through and I blurted out the words that brought me to my demise;

“Are you okay?”

He seemed surprised and looked up at me through tear filled eyes. I was going to continue walking and pretend I hadn't said anything, but then he let out a sob, stumbled forward and embraced me. Just like that. I don't know him and he sure as hell doesn't know me, but he's still seeking comfort in my arms. I wanted to push him away from me, but that 2% held me back. I stood there, unmoving, for a moment. He was screaming at that point. Something about not being able to handle “it” anymore, whatever “it” is. I finally gave in and wrapped my arms around him, both trying to soothe him and get him to shut up. I was reminded of the last time I was at my nana's house, crying in her arms years ago. The 98% disappeared as her kind face came into my mind and I spoke softly to him, trying to get him to calm down. His body racked with overwhelming sobs. He spoke of being alone and the stress being too much, that he wanted out of “it,” that he wanted to be “normal.” I hate to break it to him, but being normal isn't too amazing. It sucks.

I decided to just keep quiet and let him cry. It took a long moment, but finally, he seemed to stop. He started trying to even his breathing, sniffling, but not letting go of me. With his face buried in my hair, he said;

“Where am I?” I was at a loss. Was he drunk out of his mind, completely making up everything he just went on about, or was he lost? In drunken states, I've found myself in completely unknown places before. “Please don't leave me here.” He spoke quietly.

God damn it.

Nana, you better be smiling down at me for this.

I woke up the next morning on the couch of my apartment. For a moment, I was confused. I thought back to last night and groaned, sitting up. A jolt of surprise went through me as I spotted Nicholas sitting on the couch across from me. He simply just sat there, looking to the ground, hands clasped together. I stared at him through squinted eyes, confused. I was only in my night shirt and underwear, but I could care less. Either he gets the fuck out of my house or stops being a creep.

“What's your name?” He spoke. I hesitated.

“Valerie.” I answered.

“Valerie.” He repeated, finally meeting my eyes. “Thank you.”

“Uh,” I blinked, “what're you thanking me for, kid? I didn't do anything.” I sat cross-legged, waiting for a reply.

“I was gonna kill myself last night.” My heart skipped a beat. “You saved me.”

“Wha...I didn't...” I shook my head. “What're you talking about?”

“No one understands how stressed my life can be.” He said, eyes flaring. “The things I go through every day. The hate, the abuse. The death threats. I'm sick of it. I want out, but my family won't let me. They're forcing me into another tour.”

“They can't do that.”

“They can.” He said bitterly. “They're my parents. Even if I'm a legal adult, I can't do anything to stop them.”

“Wait a second, wait a second.” I leaned forward, pushing my hand through my hair. “You're the reason they're living it up right now. You bring in all the money, right? Tell them to fuck off.”

“I can't do that.”

“Why not?”

“They're my parents.”

“So?” I snorted. “They're forcing you to do something you don't want, Nick. Fuck outta here with that.”

“You don't understand. I'm Nick Jonas. I can't just tell them to fuck off. I have little kids looking up to me. I'm someone's role model. I can't just...” He trailed off silently. “It's so much pressure, every single day. I'm always being watched.”

“So killing yourself would help?” I asked. “Like you said, people look up to you. If you killed yourself, what does that leave them? Everyone gets stressed, Nick. You're not the only one. Don't be so fucking selfish.”

Would you believe a “friendship” formed from that? I didn't want him to be my friend. I didn't want to be pulled into all this. But he wouldn't leave. He refused to go back home, wherever home was, and stayed in my apartment. I threatened to call the police, he shrugged and said he'd rather be in jail than back home.

“You have a family that loves you, Nick. Don't throw that away.”

“They don't love me.” He said coldly. “They love the fame.”

Days went by and he's claimed the couch as his own, for I have taken my bed back. I let him sleep there the first night out of sympathy. He's not sleeping there ever again.

He's on the news. His family's looking for him, claiming he's gone “missing” and that they fear he's been “kidnapped.”

His parents seemed...distant. But his brothers looked absolutely broken, worried sick. They cared about him.

He scowled at the TV, pulling at his hair.

“Well,” he began, “I guess I'm not going outside anymore.”

“Nicholas Jonas was last spotted in Hackensack, New Jersey. If you have any information of his whereabouts, please call the number at the bottom of your screen...”

“New Jersey?” I gaped. “How the fuck did you get to Chicago?”

“I'm Nick Jonas.” He smirked. “I have connections.”

It's been about a month and that fucker is still living on my couch.

I've even bought him clothes for God's sake. I make him go out every other day, in disguise. It's not healthy to sit inside all day. He needs fresh air. No one's recognized him. He seems...a lot happier than he was when we first met.

I bring guys home every now and then. He never says anything about it. But I could tell by the look on his face everything a man walked through the door with me, he didn't like it. The bastard was jealous.

I didn't say anything about it. But he did.

“Stop bringing those guys home.” He said one day, sitting shirtless on the couch, shuffling through a pile of cards. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck off. You can't tell me what to do, Nicholas.” He said he hated when I called him his full name, but honestly, I think it turned him on.

“Those guys are all disgusting. You deserve better than those low lives.”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay.”

“Stop being a slut.” He frowned. “You're not like that, I know you aren't.”

“Fuck you.” I growled. “You don't know me.”

“I know you better than you think.” He said simply, placing the cards down and leaning back on the couch. “You're predictable. I could tell you your whole life story.”

“My life story?” I repeated. “Predictable? I'll fucking show you predictable.” I moved into his lap, straddling him. His eyes widened.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up.” I snapped, gripping his hair between my fingers. He whimpered slightly, head falling back as my hips ground into his. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to befriend a celebrity, never wanted him to stay here. I should have just ignored him in that alley way. We both would have been better off.

“Valerie.” He groaned desperately as my body moved against his. I let my hand dance down his bare chest, down to the button of his jeans. I popped them open easily, unzipping them. My hand dipped into his pants, pressing against his boxer covered member. He moaned, hips jerking. “V-Val, I...I've never...” he trailed off weakly, panting.

“I'll make this extra special, then.” I spoke seductively as I moved inside his boxers completely, grasping him. He let out a pleasured cry as my hand worked, his hips thrusting against my hand.

“Val...Valerie.” He moaned, hands moving finally to my hips as his eyes clenched shut. “Wh-Why are you...ah, ah,...d-doing this? Oh my God.”

“Mmm.” I hummed. “I dunno.” I answered simply. He was so innocent. He had a nice vocabulary, but didn't know a thing about acting. I would bet my life savings that he'd never been touched like this before. Maybe girls have tried, but he probably pushed them away. Poor little pure boy, just had to look perfect. Well, not anymore.

“Oh, god.” He groaned, hands digging into my skin. “D-Don't stop, baby, oh my god.” He grunted out in pleasure, making me giggle. His man-like instinct was coming out. He probably didn't even know he said that.But I did like the idea of him calling me baby.

“Come on, Nicholas.” I whispered in his ear.

“Fuck.”

“Nicholas, baby, come on.” I purred, kissing his neck.

“VALERIE!” He screamed, hands curling into my hair, burying his face into my neck. His heavy panting hit my skin as I rose and moved into the bathroom, leaving him sitting on the couch.

I didn't expect him to do anything about it. I thought that was that, I wasn't predictable. But no, I was wrong.

I was about to jump in the shower when he threw the door open. I shrieked, surprised, as he rushed toward me and pushed me against the wall.

“Whoa, what the fuck are you doing?” I hissed, trying to cover myself. I had my bra and underwear still on, but if he had waited a moment longer, I'd have been naked.

“I need you.” He murmured.

“You what–” I was cut off as his lips slammed against mine. I protested, pushing at him, but he only pulled me against him, his fingers quick and dipping into my panties. I moaned loudly, caught off guard, against his lips and melted against him, kissing back. His fingers pumped as I ripped his clothes from his body, shivering and groaning. He pulled my underwear off and moved to my bra, kissing my neck.

“So beautiful.” He mumbled. My breath caught. No guy had ever called me beautiful before. Not even family. He pulled me into the shower with him, the steam filling the room.

It's been two months since I met him. He still lives with me, but now, I've gone against my vow of him not sleeping in my bed ever again. He sleeps with me every night, whether or not we have sex. He just holds me. I hate to say it, but I've grown attached.

The search for him has gone down, although they claim to be still looking. Nick still goes out in disguise when we go out, not pushing his luck just yet. We hold hands when we walk around, which is weird for me. I've never been the type to flaunt a boyfriend or anything.

Not that Nick's my boyfriend, though. He's definitely not. Someday, he's gonna go back home. He's gonna be “Nick Jonas” again, and I'll be forgotten.

Another month rolls by and he's not on the news anymore. Still, he won't go outside without sunglasses or a hat. He really doesn't want to leaveme wonderful Chicago.

He's gotten into the habit of singing to me recently. Maybe he misses being up on stage, singing his heart out to thousands? Maybe he's ready to go back?

I don't ask. I just smile and listen.

“Even when we're miles and miles apart, you're still holding onto my heart. I promise it will never be dark. I know...we're inseparable.”

His family is in Chicago. They've been going around looking for him, not giving up. He hasn't spoken since they were on the news this morning. It's like he thinks they can hear him. He's sitting on the bed with his head in his hands when I finally say something.

“Nick?” I speak, sitting near him. “Are you okay?” He looks up at me, our eyes meeting.

“They can't find me.” He says quietly.

“They won't.”

I was wrong.

I made him go out with me a few days after that. God must hate me, because somehow, his brother, Joseph, was there and heard his voice. He started yelling and ran toward us, embracing Nick tightly. Nick's hand slipped from mine as his brother cried, uncaring of the stares. They held each other as I stood to the side, waiting.

Nick pushed him away and told him not to follow, that he loved him, and moved to my side. Joe argued and went to come after us. Nick pulled me quickly through the crowds, his identity exposed. Everyone knew who he was now. His family could find him and take him home.

I could lose him.

We sat close on the couch, hands clasped and fingers laced. His face was unreadable, his eyes dark. I tried everything to get him to smile, but he wouldn't. After a long silence, there was banging on the door.

“Open up! It's the police!” A man yelled. Nick shot up from his seat, me following. Someone must of saw us come in here. They found him. “Open this door now or we'll be forced to break it down!”

“No.” Nick whispered. “No, no.” He moved fast through the apartment, me hot on his heels.

“Nick, wait!” I called as he ran out the back door and down the steps, the rain pounding down on him. “Nick!” He didn't slow down as he ran into the road and I watched in horror as a car skidded through the soaking street, unable to stop before colliding with him, sending him sprawling. I screamed, rushing over to him and falling to my knees, bringing him into my lap. Crowds gathered, watching with pained expressions. I heard one woman on the phone asking for an ambulance. I silently thanked her. “Nick, Nick, please. Open your eyes.” I spoke to him. He didn't move. “Nicholas, please.” I clutched him tightly.

“Nick!” A familiar voice yelled. It was Joe, who fell near Nick's unmoving form. He reached his hand out to him.

“Don't touch him!” I screamed, pulling him closer. I saw his other brother, Kevin, staring at his family member with a mortified expression. His little brother, Frankie, clutched Kevin's leg as he cried. His parents stood together, his mother sobbing and his father turned away, holding her. They seemed like two completely different people than the ones I had seen on the television months ago. The ambulance pulled up and Nick was put onto a stretcher. I refused to let go of his hand. His parents tried to step forward to ride in the ambulance with him. “Get away from him! This is your fault!” I yelled, glaring through the freezing rain. I whirled around, my hair whipping me in the face as I climbed in, sitting beside him. I could see the heart break on their faces before the doors closed.

It's been three days, and Nick still hasn't woken up. His heart is beating, his brain is functioning, but he just won't come back. I haven't left the hospital. I shower here, eat here. The nurses have brought me clothes to wear. His brothers came to visit. His parents tried to, but I refused to let them in. They may be different, but this was their fault. If they hadn't tried forcing him into the tour, this wouldn't have happened.

On day four, I grew desperate. I was afraid; terrified of losing him. I cared about him, 100%. I loved him.

“Nick.” I spoke to his still figure. “I miss you. I really do. I don't want to, but...I do. You're such an asshole.” I said, faking a small laugh as my tears fell. “But...but I don't know what I'd do without you. I need you. I can't live without you anymore. You saved me. Please,” I gripped his hand, “come back to me. Don't leave me here.” I kissed his knuckle. “I love you.”

His body jumped once, and his heart beat sky rocketed. His body convulsed violently suddenly, scaring me. I pressed the button on the wall repeatedly, screaming for help. I watched as doctors and nurses swarmed around him. One nurse tried to usher me out but stopped when a loud gasp was heard. I stood in the center of the room, watching as his eyes popped open, gasping for breath. He tried to get the tube from his throat but the doctors stopped him. His eyes looked around wildly before landing on me. His actions froze as he stared. My hands covered my mouth as tears continued to fall.

“Nick.” I whispered, moving forward. I stood over him, bursting out in tears as I grabbed the hospital gown covering him, pressing my face into his chest as I cried. His arm rose shakily, wrapping around me gently. “I love you so much. Please stay with me.” His eyes sparkled. He couldn't speak with the tube in his throat, but I understood.

“When can I get out of here?” Nick groaned, frowning.

“Your legs are broken, dumb ass.” I said. “You're not getting out anytime soon.” He huffed dramatically.

“Whatever.”

“Niiiiick!” Joe's loud voice sounded off. “Hey, hey. Oh, hi, Val.” He kissed my cheek. “How y'all doin?”

“Horribly.” Nick frowned.

“He means just fine.” I corrected. “He's being a baby.”

“I hate hospitals.” Nick said childishly.

“Me too.” Frankie came in, game in hand. “It's so boring.” He sat down.

“The coffee sucks.” Kevin said, sitting beside him with a sour look. I laughed, shaking my head. I glanced at, seeing him staring.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just love your smile.” He grinned as I blushed. “Almost as much as I love when you get embarrassed.”

“Shut up.” I grumbled. He snickered.

“I love you.” I smiled slightly.

“I love you, too.” He kissed me gently, smiling against my lips.

“Nicholas?” A voice entered the room, silencing everyone. His parents stood at the door nervously. Nick's expression fell immediately.

“Nick, we...” his father began, “we want to apologize.”

“About everything.” His mom said. “We just wanted your dreams to come true.”

“That dream doesn't mean anything to me anymore.” Nick said. “I have all I need right here.” He grabbed my hand, not looking at me. I blushed furiously.

“We understand that.” His father said. “We're not going to make you do anything you don't want to anymore.”

“It's your life.” His mom said. “You get to decide what to do with it.” He turned to me, staring me in the eyes. My head tilted as he smiled.

“Valerie?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you marry me?”