Their Crazy Fantasies.

Do I ask a lot from people?

Do I ask a lot of questions?

Do I act ignorant?

Well, I only ask that someone answers these questions;
Why is Justin at my door?

Why is Justin at my door with a girl?

Why does the girl have red hair?

Is that the girl that was in the magazines and TMZ?

Why do I open the door?


“Haden. . .” Justin looks like he’s at a loss for words. Hmph, that’s rare. Too bad I don’t have time for him to come up with the perfect words I want to hear. Whatever those words are. Honestly, a lot of words and phrases could have done their job. But not with that girl with him. The girl looked ditzy but yet I could tell she had some self dignity. Good for her.
I sighed. “Justin, I do not have time for this. Maybe you want to ring my doorbell again when you know what to say? Oh, and don’t bring her next time.” The girl didn’t look hurt or offended at all. Instead, she looked guilty. She glared at Justin.

“It’s not what it looks like,” The girl tried to explain as I tried to close the door. I stopped and swung the door back open. She’s acting like I just caught them rolling on a bed together, but in reality I caught them at my front door together. And I wouldn’t necessarily call it ‘catching them’.

“Then what is it?” I asked, feeling amused. If this doesn’t turn out well, what a great story it would be for the tabloids! Oh wait, some of my secrets would probably be revealed in the process. . . Not the best idea.

“May we come inside? It’s going to be a long story.” They both said at the same time. It must be pretty damn long.

It better be the truth.

But answer these last questions for me, if you can.


But why does it sound so rehearsed?

And more importantly, why do I let them in?

They told me the whole thing. The whole story. Yup. The whole shebang. Don’t believe me? Think they left something out? I don’t. Because now, I’m friends with Scarlett. Turns out, she’s actually cool. And not as ditzy as I thought.

Not ditzy at all really. And her period blood red hair?( Ok, that was mean. It doesn’t look like blood red. More of a red velvet red. And don't you dare ask me how I know what period blood looks like. . . OK I'll tell you since your just dying to know. I mean, I haven't fucked a girl, let alone a girl on her period so how would I know? Well, mom isn't really careful with her pads and whatnot. . .) She dyed it because she didn’t want to be like everyone else. She’s a natural brunette.

And you want to know what really shocked me? She’s all happy, bubbly, and pretty. She’s not fucked up like me. She’s so pure. At least, that’s what I thought until today. Well, I didn’t know about her at all until today, but a few minutes ago she reveled something so enlightening to me. The poor girl has been raped. Twice . And she’s been prego! Once!

If I were her, I’d be totally mindfucked. I’d become a prostitute, struggling to come up with the money to raise the child. And the husband, wife, whatever? Ha. They’d probably be long gone.

Unless the person was Justin. . .

But Scarlett wouldn’t leave me either. . .

Wait.

Why the fuck am I even thinking about that? Scarlett didn’t take care of the child herself anyways.

Any who, right now, I’m currently watching SpongeBob. With Justin. And Scarlett. Ha! If the tabloids saw this, they’d go crazy. It’s amazing how just a few words can change your relationship totally with a person. I like it though – How I’m sitting here with Justin and Scarlett and we’re acting as if we’ve been friends since the toddler years.

“Let’s go somewhere!” Justin said, randomly springing up.

“Let’s not!” Scarlett said, mocking his eagerness. I stared at Justin. He must be out of his mind. I’m not going outside today. I was quite fond of the idea of watching Nickelodeon all day. Apparently, so was Scarlett.

“It’s only three, guys. What’s wrong?” Guys. Guess we’re all just friends now. Wouldn’t it be weird if we had this love triangle thing? Ha-ha. . . Well it’s not that farfetched!

Wait a minute. . .It’s three ‘o’clock? Oh damn, that means –

The door jingled and clicked. Justin’s head snapped up. Scarlett stared at the door expectantly. I squirmed in my seat and imagined what this might look like to Mom. Knowing Mom, she’d come up with some crazy conclusion like . . .

“Hi, Haden! How was your – What’s going on here? Who’s she?” Mom said, cutting herself off. Justin and Scarlett looked slightly shocked, while I was trying my best to hold in my laughter. I couldn’t wait to see what she’d say next. “Is this some type of . . .” She paused, searching for the right words. Come on, Mom. You can do it! “Intervention?”

All of our faces fell. Mine was because I expected more from my crazy ass mom. Don’t get me wrong, that was a crazy ass conclusion, but she could have done better. To Scarlett, I’m sure Mom’s theory was one of the most insane things she’s heard an adult say. From what she’s told me (which is a lot more than you think.), her parents seem pretty reasonable. The ideal American family. To the untrained eye. Justin was used to my mom by now, and he was also probably expecting something else from my mom too. Well, surprise! It’s coming.

Mom’s eyes widened. “Is this a powwow?” No one responded. “What is this? Is this a pre-orgy fest?”

Yup. That’s the mom I know and . . . uh. . . love I guess. Scarlett’s facial expression was priceless. I wish I had a camera to take the picture. Justin’s laugh brought out his inner child. Something he’d been slightly deprived of since he’s always so busy,busy,busy at a young age. Hell, he’s one of the most desired people on the planet. I wish I could have captured his laughter on camera too.

I wish I could capture this whole moment in a photo. Somehow capturing my mother’s face, Scarlett’s wide open mouth, and Justin’s pearly whites all in one picture to keep forever was the only thing I wanted to do at that moment. Other than see my own facial expression of course. I kind of figure it’s on the lines of dazed out.

That’s when it hit me.

I have a vintage like camera upstairs somewhere.

And it’s not old, it’s designed to look vintage.

But it actually takes liquid clear pictures.

Ha. Guess I’m photogenic.

Get it?

Fine. Excuse my pun.
And for the record, Scarlett and Justin found it funny.

Mom excused her behavior and went on with her day. Scarlett also excused herself, to go potty and get a drink. Justin wanted to go out. Still. “We can even buy food.” He tried to bargain. Sorry little boy. It’s not working.

“So, what’s going on Justin? I don’t get it? Are you a thing with Scarlett? Or me?” I said, ignoring his plead and taking advantage of Scarlett’s temporary absence.

“I don’t know, Haden. I really have to sit down and think about what I really want. I’m sorry. . .”
Now, I had the urge to start a fight with him. He has had plenty of time to figure out what he wants. Who he wants. And for what reasons. But I don’t say a thing.

Because haven’t we fought enough?

Instead, I want to give him a taste of his own medicine. Scarlett comes back while I put together my master plan in my mind.

Because, Justin. Maybe it’s time for Haden to figure out what he wants.

“Um. Haden? Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about what I think your thinking about.” Justin said slowly, looking at me with wide eyes. Disappointment and worry filled them. Oops. Did I say that aloud? Fuck. He probably thinks I’m considering going back to Crystal Meth because Justin is once more, indecisive.

Hey, don’t you think that sounds familiar?

He’s fucking indecisive.

Oh, for fucking once. Why can’t I think of happy things? Now I’ve got one of Justin’s songs stuck in my head. A song that fits him to a T. I look at Justin, and he’s completely enthralled with SpongeBob, but he inches towards Scarlett. Scarlett looks slightly more uncomfortable and awkward with every inch he gets closer to her.
Yup. It’s time I show Justin Bieber what it feels like. Maybe he could make the song about the experience too. I can imagine it now. “Eenie Meenie Part 2.0” HA! And the lyrics would be exactly the same, but all of the “She” would me turned into “Me”. Or I.
Ha. Imigine it.

I seem like the type. . .

To love ‘em and leave ‘em,

And disappear right after the song!

. . . I can’t make up mind!

I’m wasting your time,

Ha. I’d buy that on iTunes more than once. Wouldn’t you?