https://youtu.be/1Usq38x2_Zk

Elias

Barnes and Noble is balls to the wall packed when we show up. After sitting through half an hour of standstill traffic leading up to the parking lot, my driver finally manages to flag down the valets who direct us over to the VIP drop-off area.

We haven't even left the Lincoln yet, and Jersey's nerves are starting to show. She's been picking at the leather seats for the last twenty minutes and fidgeting with the bottom of her dress like a little girl. I reach over and cover her hands with mine even though I'm shaking. There's a shit ton of people outside, but they're not the usual touristy mall crowd who hang around The Grove.

They're all girls.

Teenage girls.

Girls in their twenties.

Moms and daughters who honestly shouldn't even be reading my book, but I spot them all pushing and shoving their way down the escalator and towards the bookstore with copies of Letters to Jersey in their hands.

The driver pulls up to a small red carpet like area and ushers Jersey and me to get out. I'm not sure I want to, but I don't have a choice. The book's gotten so big at this point I have people handling the professional parts of it for me.

Sometimes, I still wish it was just me and Dan running things like we did before Letters to Jersey blew up. But once the offers for representation started rolling in, even D-Man suggested that I sign with someone "right for the job". That someone turned into me being picked up by my now agent/publicist/pain-in-the-ass Lisa. She's the one who gets me the press, the airtime, the signings, all the bullshit that I hate to do, but have to do.

I look out the window and see her standing in the entrance way to The Grove. She's dressed in a pants suit, attaché in one hand, cigarette in the other. Her foots tapping a hole to China through the concrete floor. Yep, she's pissed. But I'm not moving any faster for her, I've got more important people to worry about.

"You ready to go out there, J? Things might be kinda crazy. Like, fan girl crazy," I say.

Jersey watches another group of girls run by the window, and then shifts her gaze back to me.

"I'm ready as I'll ever be, I guess. You on the other hand look like you were born for this."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you seen a mirror? You changed into this classy, author-like outfit on the way here and just knocked me out of the running. Like who knew a v-neck black sweater and jeans could look that good on a person."

"Well, we are talking about me here. I make everything look good."

Her eyes nearly pop out of her face.

"I know! And I feel totally lame next to you. You're all red carpet ready and I look like Baba Yaga. Look at my face. Haggard much? A nice dress can't fix this face. I have no make up on, half of those girls out there look way more stunning than I do and--"

I kiss the insecurity right off of those lips. I slide my tongue into her mouth, take her in my arms, and push her backwards until she's practically underneath me. We're supposed to be out of the car right now.

The driver's yelling at me to get out, and the asshole waiting behind us is honking his horn like crazy, but I don't fucking care. My body's too busy trying to assure Jersey that she's the only person it belongs to. I pull back, hover over her for a couple seconds, and smile at her like the devil.

"Do you feel haggard now?"

She stares up at me like she's looking at the stars and takes a minute to catch her breath before answering.

"No. Not particularly. I-I feel--"

"Do you feel this?"

I lower myself down on top of her until she understands exactly what I'm talking about.

"Yes. Yes I do," she stammers.

Her face turns about fifty shades of pink, and I briefly consider begging the driver to take us around the block again, so we can finish what I've started.

"Then you should know exactly how beautiful you look in that dress. Now,--"

I sit up, smooth my hair down, and pop open the door handle.

"--are you ready?"

She gathers herself, straightens the creases out of her dress, and stares at me confused.

"For what?"

I love that she asked. Guess the signing isn't the only thing she's ready for.

"For the signing. Or did you have something else in mind?" I tease.

She flips me off and jets out of the car before giving me answer, but I heard her loud and clear. I step onto the mock red carpet and wait for Jersey to join me. She stomps over in her beat up white chucks. Indigo picked out heels for her, but Jersey threw them across the car and insisted on wearing these instead.

She looks like a hippie punk princess although she'd probably sock me if I told her that. Her dress is off the shoulder which leaves just enough of her sun-kissed skin exposed to drive me nuts. The rest of it's delicate and flowy, and I can't decide if I like seeing her in it or imagining her out of it.

I stare at her for a couple seconds just taking her in. She's still trying to catch her breath after what happened in the car. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted, and her eyes fixed ahead. The pressure rising in my chest gives way into something else. Something that hits me so hard and fast in that moment that I cave into the feeling.

I love this girl.

Her anxiety, her angry squirrel antics, her everything.

And it scares the shit out of me.

It scares me because I'm not used to second chances, I'm used to losing everything all at once, but maybe tonight'll be different.

It has to be.

It's going to be.

Because I can't lose her again.

I won't lose her again.

Real talk.

"Elias! There's a lady whistling at you over there. Look alive, Sparky!"

Jersey snaps in front of my face and directs my attention over to Lisa who's using her fucking dog whistle to summon me. She did it over Skype the first time we had a conference call because apparently she thought whistling at the computer would make the screen unfreeze. I had headphones in. It blew my ears out. It still does. But me hating her habits doesn't mean she's going to change them. I feel sorry for whoever she's married to.

"That's Lisa. She's in charge of all this book deal stuff, and she's out of her damn mind. She smokes like a chimney, so stand next to me, not her, and she's neurotic so she'll probably interrogate you as soon as you introduce yourself."

"And how am I supposed to introduce myself, Elias? I'm obviously not your mom!"

"Don't worry about that, I'll come up with something. Just nod and smile and tell her that her hair looks nice."

Jersey glances over to Lisa who's marching toward us like a madwoman and then looks back at me.

"Her hair--what happened to her hair? It looks like she's headed out for St. Patrick's Day."

I nearly burst out laughing at just how accurate her description is.

"No, she's usually blonde, but her stylist fucked up, and it's been green for the last month. She looks like an evil leprechaun, but just compliment her anyway."

"Fine. But I'm a crappy liar. If she figures out I'm being dishonest, I blame you."

"You'll be fine. Just act natural."

The two of us turn towards Lisa just in time for her to start screaming at me. At least, her version of screaming, which is her talking at me aggressively in whatever's left of her smoker's voice.

"Are you aware of what time it is, Elias?" She says.

"Go time?" I say, shit-eating grin in full view. Jersey laughs, but Lisa shuts her down with a single bitchy stare. I decide I don't like that stare and if I see Lisa throw that stare in Jersey's direction a second time, I'll fire her on the spot. Real talk.

"It's . Your signing was scheduled to start at a six, and now we have thousands of people waiting outside Barnes and Noble for an author who looks like a no-show!"

I lightly pat her on the back, and she stiffens up like a board.

"I'm here now. Relax."

Lisa's beady blue eyes dart down towards my jeans.

"Speak for yourself."

I follow her gaze only to find that the Little King's still way too jazzed about me and Jersey's little backseat fiasco. Fantastic.

Before I can stutter through an excuse I don't have, Jersey steps in front of me and extends a hand to Lisa .

"Hi, there! You're Lisa, right? I'm Alex, Elias's new assistant. Nice to meet you. I like your hair by the way!"

Still such a great actress.

Lisa stares at her for a couple seconds while her nose wrinkles up like a raisin.

"You look familiar. Have we met before?" She asks.

Alex shrugs her shoulders and smiles off Lisa's skepticism.

"Don't think so! Anyway, I'm sorry we're late. I had a prior engagement, and we hit traffic on the way so Elias being behind is my fault. But now that we're here, just tell us where we need to go and what we need to do to get this show on the road."

Lisa whips out her iPad and starts walking us toward the chaotic crowd of people.

"There's no back entrance, so we'll have to cut through the mob. Keep your head down, don't engage, and don't stop walking until I say so, clear?"

I nod because the anxiety stirring up a hurricane in my chest renders me silent. I reach for Jersey's hand pull her behind me and squeeze the hell out of it before I let her go. She's my assistant today. Not Jersey. Not the girl I wrote this book for. She's just another part of my entourage. An almost stranger. Not because I want her to be, but because that's who the public needs her to be.

Lisa lets out another dog whistle and four six-foot-eight security guys flank the three of us. The bulkiest of the group hands me and Jersey two security jackets and motions for us to put them on.

"Cover your heads, you two. There's hella cameras out there. Keep your eyes on the ground, and don't walk outside of our perimeter."

We do as he asks, and I don't even get a second to prepare myself for the mob before we walk right into it.

The screams.

The lights.

Right into the storm.

***

I barely have time to come down from the rush when Lisa starts barking at me to kick off the night with the reading I had planned. It was supposed to be last. I wanted to sign some books first, maybe meet a couple strangers, and lose myself in some small talk to take my mind off of who I'm doing the reading for. But Lisa shot that idea straight to hell when she decided to begin with the one thing I'm the most nervous about.

It's not the girls I hear outside the door that have me on edge. It's the one standing next to me. Jersey has no idea what's going on. She's definitely not freaking out as badly as I am right now, but the crowd clearly has her rattled.

People were taking so many damn pictures, being outside felt like walking through a lightning storm. Security had us covered up, but I'm still paranoid that somebody might have gotten her in a photo.

The Daily Bruin debacle was bad enough. The crowd can't catch her with me tonight. Nobody can. Not even Lisa.

"Are you okay?" Jersey asks.

She looks at me with all the concern in the world, and it takes everything I have not to kiss her for it.

"Not really."

She grabs on to the corner of my sweater and tugs me toward her.

"You will be! I'll be cheering for you out there!"

"Seriously? But doesn't the crowd freak you out? You can hang back here if you want. There's speakers in here, so--"

"I'll be out there. Look for me."

She winks and then sneaks out the door without saying another word. Right as she's leaving, the store manager pops his head in and motions me to follow him.

"We're ready for you, Mr. King."

I swallow the lump in my throat, grab my copy of Letters to Jersey out of my bag, and flip through the pages until I find one of the entries I never published. I've kept a couple to myself. Letters I wrote to Jersey that I never showed anyone. Not even Dan.

I left my heart in those couple pieces of notebook paper.

And tonight I'm reading one of them to her.

For her.

Because I want her back, and this is how it starts.

***

Lisa leads me onto the stage and into the spotlight, while the Barnes and Noble staff scramble around frantically trying to quiet the crowd. I sit down on the wooden stool set up for me, look past the lights, and scan the room for Jersey, but I can't find her anywhere.

I'm supposed to be saying something. It's my job to put on my PR face and please the people the way Lisa coached me to. But I can't be that guy tonight. Tonight, I'm going to be the guy Jersey needs me to be. And I want her to see it. To see who I am now and how much I've changed.

But she won't see anything if she's drowning in the crowd or stuck off to the side standing somewhere out of view.

Lisa clomps up on the stage and whispers an aggressive "Start talking," in my ear before smiling at the audience like the angel she isn't. I shoot her a warning glare, and she grabs the mic away from me and starts stalling for time.

Somewhere in the middle of her rattling and rambling off "thank you's" and apologies to the crowd, I spot Jersey in the back of the room. She sidles past a gaggle of pre-teens and finds a free section of the wall to lean on. Once she settles in, I catch her eye, and she shoots me wave. I make a kissy face back at her that could definitely get me in trouble.

Whatever.

Half the crowd starts cooing like I made that face for them. But the girl it's actually meant for just smiles quietly on the sidelines where no one notices her but me.

Lisa finishes her blabbering and hands the mic back to me.

"Thank you, guys, for coming out. I'm sorry for the wait, but hopefully this'll be worth it. I wanted to read you something new--"

I look right at Jersey, and she's staring right back at me.

"--it's one of the letters I left out of the book. No one's heard it before. Back when my friend, Dan, was helping me edit Letters to Jersey, I decided not to publish everything I wrote. Some things were a little too personal to share. But this is a special occasion, so I wanted to read this letter because there's somebody here tonight who I want to hear it. It was one of the ones I did early on, and I've added a few more things to it that weren't in the original. I thought it important and meaningful with everything going on right now. God knows, I've made more than my share of mistakes in the past, but I want her back. I've wanted her back for a while now, and even though she's got more than enough reasons to shoot me down, I'm still hoping she'll say yes. Babe, this is for you. This one's called 'The Girl With The Broken Smile'."

Whispers scatter across the crowd the second I finish speaking. I figured people would talk once I gave them something to talk about, but the frenzy has me on edge. I take my eyes off the rows of girls throwing sideways stares around the room looking for the one girl I don't want them to find. This is why I hate obsession, because it keeps people from realizing where fantasy ends and reality begins.

Jersey's the only real thing in the room tonight.

Not the fans.

Not the rumors.

Not the noise.

Just her.

This reading's for her.

It's always been.

And, I hope she'll know that without question after this.

So I unfold the page, breathe in the silence, and read.

***

"Dear Jersey,

Let me tell you a story.

A story only you and I know.

A story that shows how far we've gone and how close we've come to complete.

Everything.

There's a girl, and a guy, and a lie that comes between.

It's no surprise who the guy is in the story, you'll see.

It's a story that while notorious, I hope leads to the glory of us and everything we still could be.

Just trust. Even though I know I never gave enough reason for you to.

I know I never gave enough.

This story I want to tell is about this girl and how I fell for her.

She had this one thing about her that told so much.

That something while broken could hold such beauty.

You'll see.

That one thing meant everything to me.

I met a girl with a broken smile.

She had a lot going on,

All of it stemming from,

A fear from her east coast life.

She was already cracked,

maybe not fully broken.

Then she met this guy,

A new world awoken,

And everything spoken about him from his blood told her he was far from anything right.

He wasn't what she was looking for.

She was too real for him to ignore,

Still, both saw,

How the broken in one could comfort the other.

Their hearts knew,

While the rest of them didn't.

And that's where it stayed, guarded, deeply embedded.

A secret.

Denied.

At first.

So far deep in the dark of their hearts

Was this silent song of,

We couldn't be more right for each other.

They just couldn't hear it.

Yet.

No matter what he felt. He fought it because he thought it,

Impossible.

For another to enter and love again.

That this other girl could pull him from where he'd been

And save him from himself.

And all the while, he was unknowingly falling for this girl.

The girl with the broken smile.

This guy was a king of the south in the west.

But his choices when young were what created the mess that his life became.

Cast out of his kingdom, love dead, heart fallen,

Deeper down trials he thought impossible to solve them.

Until the first meeting.

He was blind when first seeing,

The girl with the broken smile.

But here's the funny truth.

An absolute.

You can't refute the fact that seeing is believing.

And, that's what happened eventually.

This guy had a different set of eyes to see.

He could see the truth lying behind her smile.

Their similarities in dealing led him to find.

All the hidden beauty sitting behind the broken.

The unspoken hardships riddling the heart.

That these broken pieces could be a start for healing.

The piecing together,

New hope to make better,

In light of a darker last year.

But fear is a thief that takes no prisoners,

A killer to the most courageous of hearts.

From the start.

His had already known,

That his fear of letting go

Would seep so deep into the roots of their beginning,

Tainting the truth and making her question everything.

It's scary how a past can catch up and dash all that's meaningful to pieces.

Causing pain.

He knows the stains still remain on her heart.

The pain he caused in the face of the ghost she fought,

In attempt to save the soul of a guy who stole the last thing left to take.

With a lie.

Anger and hurt,

Vulnerability behind,

A guarded exterior and fear from that time,

When a guy took her safety and broke more than an arm.

He didn't even realize to what extent the harm could be.

When you leave.

Her heart.

Sometimes, the hurt people have, is the kind you can't see.

The type that cuts so deep, the heart can't even bleed.

Or heal.

He left a broken smile and the weight of the world.

The weight of worry worth the weight of two hearts.

But let me tell you what I think's the worst part.

The he in this story, turns out to be...

Me.

A stealer of hearts even though I didn't mean to be.

And the she, well it's obvious that she's you...Jersey.

And, I'm still the guy who fell.

I fell in love with a girl.

A girl with a broken smile.

Her smile mirrored mine.

Pain, fear, sheer hurt hiding behind.

And, through our own dark pasts we found our lives intertwined.

In heaviness.

And this heaviness each carried and weathered in their hearts

Got in the way of the readiness either could've had for the other.

Instead, it drove them apart.

At first.

She met me at a time when more than just a car was wrecked.

I met her at a time when her heart was nothing but beset with tragedy.

Still I fell.

Further from myself.

Farther into someone else.

My heart tried to deceive me.

Like it does when at war with believing itself.

It tells lies.

But I couldn't deny the real in the present over everything I couldn't deal with in the past.

So I fell.

I fell in love with a girl.

A girl with a broken smile.

And while I thought I was alone,

Alone in carrying my burden.

Her smile only made me all the more certain,

That she, too, carried the weight of the world.

The weight of truth. The weight of fear. Not letting go of the hold a past year could have.

-I've seen things and done things and had my bad days.

She's been through and gone through things and dealt with it in her own ways.

Like running.

And hiding.

We both did that.

But things got worse.

After the first...

time.

I left.

Her.

And in the face of where I lied, she built to cope, cutting down hope for a runaway's return.

She built up this tower, a fortress, denying my fight,

Through walls of distrust, down halls of bad memories and guards stacked high against...

The world.

And now I'm left with the hardest thing to do.

To pick up the pieces, break down the barriers, and give anything and everything to get her to feel this.

The this that is us, we're not alone but together. To try to let her see that I'm not like him anymore, that I'd never...

Do that.

Again.

The he that I was, I wouldn't.

And, I know, from before, it turned out I couldn't.

I regret that bet, and everything I said.

That when it mattered most, and could've shown how I cared. I stopped. Stepped back. Just because I was scared. I should've been brave and sent those three little words. But, the fear made me stop. And, I sent the two worst, instead.

"I lied."

A lie.

But that wasn't true.

When the truth of the matter is that I love you.

I've said it before, written, proclaimed.

If it's what it takes, I'll state it again and again.

Love is a four letter word.

And, I should have just sent those three.

I cared for her a lot but never said it.

Cuz love was a word that I couldn't admit.

Before.

Back then.

But now, Jersey, I swear I won't leave you broken again.

Your that someone else I'd free fall into, and I'm the runaway whose changed which way he runs to.

Never away, And only toward--

--full speed running, looking forward to show you

The beauty in your brokenness. The truth in my promise.

To never forget.

Because this Somebody read every line you left behind in that journal filled with beautiful broken lines.

Every single one I've answered in mine.

Each coincides with the truth of our time lived apart.

So, restart.

I fell in love with a girl.

A girl with a broken smile.

And, for awhile, we divided like parallel lines.

Living alongside, and passing the time, but I've been here waiting for just the right time.

To find her.

Keep her.

And make her feel whole.

I retrace my mistakes, give back what I stole

With the warmth of my touch,

And these words filled with love

I vowed to help her let go of a hurt that's too much.

With a hope for tomorrow,

And new faith in our future,

I promise.

With an honest heart.

To take back the sorrow

I caused.

At the start of us.

I'm ready for the heavy, the twists and turns in our story.

Just let me in, so we can re-begin this journey.

I'll be the paper.

Jersey, you've always been the pen.

And the beauty in our story is that it never has to end.

Because no story is ever over until both authors will it so.

And, this story's far from over, so there is no letting go,

Of you, Jersey.

For me.

From me,

-Elias"

***

The whole room's quiet when I finish. It takes me a couple seconds to bring myself to look at Jersey, but once I do, the look on her face ruins me.

She's crying.

She's crying, and I don't know what it means, and I hate seeing her hurting, and I hate that I'm the reason for it.

I'm seconds away from running over to her when she pulls the same pen out from behind her ear and scribbles something on her hand.

I don't think I breathe for the entire time she writes.

A couple seconds pass, and she lifts up her palm into the light, so I can read it clearly.

"YES."

I blink and read it again.

And again.

And I can't believe what I'm reading.

Or what she's saying.

Or, that any of this is happening.

My heart's beating so hard it pounds its way up through my chest, jumps into my throat, and slips into the open.

I forget there's a mic in front of my mouth, and a room of people, and a crowd full of press, and I whisper out the truth.

"I love you, Alex."

I say it.

I say it, and for a couple seconds, I can't figure out if anyone heard it but me.

I put my faith in the couple inches standing between me and the mic to keep what I said a secret.

But then I look out at the crowd and watch the weight of my words sink in, in slow motion.

I watch the spark before the explosion sizzle and dance in their minds right before it hits the dynamite.

And then everything explodes. Hands shoot up a mile a minute, people gasp and shoot whispers back and forth like bullets.

And in that moment, I wish every single microphone in the room didn't exist. I wish that cell phones, and speakers, and cameras couldn't capture the kind of truths that are better off spoken in secret. But wishing doesn't change mistakes. Wishing doesn't change a damn thing at all, because the second Alex's name left my lips, the whole room heard it.

Everyone heard it.

Shock washes over hundreds of faces, but Jersey's drowning in it.

Her skins completely pale, and I can see how little she's breathing even though I'm half a room away.

I sit there motionless while the tears in her eyes disappear as slowly as she does.

She takes one, two, three steps towards the front door and on the fourth, she's out of it.

Gone.

Like she was never here at all.

I'm glued to my seat, paralyzed, my heart beating loud and hollow in my chest, while the girl who's supposed to be my girlfriend becomes my ghost.

Again.

Because of me.

Again.

Once the feeling comes back in my legs, I stand up and bolt for the exit, but a wall of people with cameras and questions stop me. The stage starts caving in. Everyone's up out of their seats pushing towards me, closing off all the escape routes, until I'm surrounded.

Lisa and her bodyguards are the only ones separating me from the stampede of people screaming for my attention. I pull at the collar of my shirt and struggle for air, but I can't breathe.

I gotta find Jersey.

I need to get outside.

I need to get the hell out of here, but I can't move.

I'm stuck suffocating under the only question I hear the mob asking over and over again.

"Who's Alex?"

I suck in a breath and give them the only answer I can.

The only answer she'd want me to.

"Nobody."

***

(Thank you guys so much for reading & listening! If you don't usually listen to the audiobook I highly encourage you to do so for this chapter just so you can hear kaelking12 's awesome reading of the Letter to Jersey entry she wrote for this chapter! We hope this one hit you guys in the feels and left you on the edge of your seats! More to come next weekend! See you then!

PS: QUESTION OF THE WEEK: What do you think is going to happen next? )