Song: No Rain-- Blind Melon

Juno

"Do you need somewhere to stay for the night?"

His voice gave a sudden pang in her stomach. Juno pondered on this question. She gnawed on her bottom lip, clearly wanting to tell him the truth. The two of them filed off the bus and began to walk down the sidewalk in the direction of Trent's house. A cool breeze blew harshly at them, causing Juno's coat to open and flow behind her like a superhero's cape.

"I'm fine. I can get a motel room or something."

"No," Trent stepped out in front of her to block her from walking any further. Juno stopped dead in her tracks, looking up at her newfound friend. He wasn't very tall compared to most men, but he was certainly taller than herself.

"I can't let you do that. You can stay with me at my house." Trent offered bluntly. Juno was shocked. It wasn't that she didn't trust Trent, she was stunned that he would even consider offering to lodge to a total stranger. They didn't know anything about each other. All she knew was that his full name was Michael Trent Reznor, he was twenty-seven-years-old, and he was a famous musician in a band called Nine Inch Nails. She had never heard of them before— couldn't be too famous.

"Oh, no. N-no," Juno declined with a shake of her head. She slung her backpack over her shoulder. "I couldn't. You barely know me, and I barely know you."

"It's fine, honest. I'm not a rapist, I'm just an average guy with a dog and a piano." Trent smiled reassuringly at the concerned girl. She looked from her boots to her comrade's strangely proportioned face. A sigh escaped her lips. Why not. Trent was pretty cool, and besides, it was only for the night. It'd be nice to sleep in a warm (and hopefully clean) bed for once.

"Okay."

*****

He called the ranch house Le Pig. It sat up on a hill, tucked behind a thicket of trees. Trent told her it was the exact house where the Manson Family murdered the Tate party. Juno didn't quite believe him, that is until she saw the word PIG smeared on the front door in a dried, brown liquid. A chill ran down her spine as they made their way down the gravel path from the dirt road to the porch, where she got a better view of the word painted in blood on the ivory door.

She didn't understand why Trent would want to live in a former crime scene, but man was it cool! Though Le Pig had its bad past, it was the most amazing house she had ever seen. It was a very elongated cottage that stretched across a plate of green grass, with trimmed hedges, tall trees to block out the harsh California sun, and fresh flowers that shone in the bright light of the moon. Juno tried to picture how pretty it all looked when the sun rose in the early hours of the morning.

The inside was just as beautiful. Most of the walls were a stark white or made of stacked bricks, but ruffled drapery and mirrors hung on them to give the house some glamour and life. There was a large fireplace in the living room that had velvet furniture surrounding it. There were multiple ladders leading up to the loft in random parts of the house (spare space for storage or house guests, as Trent explained). 

Trent's bedroom was gorgeous, with an adjoined bathroom, large windows that looked out onto the pool that lay outside in the yard, and an enormous king-sized mattress. Juno secretly wondered how many women had been in that luxurious bed with him. How perfect would it be to wake up in a large bed like that and have a beautiful view of the water right before you— next to someone you shared a night of love with? It was all too good to be true.

And in the middle of the only empty room in the whole house sat a piano with thousands of pieces of sheet music on top of it, along with other bits of music equipment. Juno guessed this was where Trent's "magic" happened. Trent offered to give her a more extensive tour of the house tomorrow, and Juno accepted. She could barely keep her eyes open.

Juno was absolutely exhausted. The walk up the hill to Le Pig definitely tired her out, but it was nothing compared to the on-foot travel she'd been doing recently. Traveling was becoming a chore. The ride on the bus had been her first normal form of transportation in a long time. Sticking her thumb out was almost as easy as simply walking. But moving on foot drained her energy.

Sometimes it surprised her that she managed to get by. To earn money, she would stay in a town for a week or more, and work a waitress job or as a gas attendant. Once she got the cash she needed, she was off. Her father used to support her until she met the Monster. The Monster that made her happy, made her angry— made her feel alive. It left painful scarring both physically and mentally. The memories of that life were hard to forget. But they constantly lingered— and there was nothing Juno could do to stop them.