With (NO) love, Tyler-Jane Roberts

"There you are. What the hell are you doing out here?"

My eyes remained fixated on the pool, watching as the lights from the bottom danced along the surface. "How long can someone hold their breath underwater?"

"I don't know. A minute? Maybe two?" Weston said. "Why?"

"I want to try five."

"What do you mean you want to try five?"

I turned my head towards him. "I want to see if I can hold my breath for five minutes. You don't think I can, do you?"

Weston's eyes widened slightly, clearly confused from my babbling. "Teej, I don't know if you can even fucking swim. Why do you-" he cut himself off as I got to my feet. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to see if I can last five minutes."

"Are you-" he shook his head. "No, TJ, come on. Let's just go back inside where the rest of the party is and if you still want to test out this... experiment in the morning we can. Okay?"

Ignoring him, I turned back towards the pool and kicked off my shoes.

"TJ, please. Not while you're all fucked up. What if you drown?"

I shrugged my shoulders as my hands gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. "I'm okay with drowning," I mumbled, tossing the shirt on the ground. "You can either stay and time me or leave your watch so I can do it myself."

Unbuttoning my pants, I quickly caught a glimpse of Weston from the corner of my eye. He looked distraught, yet I had trouble understanding why - clearly it had nothing to do with me standing in my underwear. It's not like he had never seen me like this before. If he wanted to go back inside so badly, he could. It didn't matter whether it was him timing me or I did it myself. I kicked my jeans to the side, letting it join my shirt and the bottle I had been drinking from.

"Are you going to time me or not?"

Weston let out a distraught sigh and nodded his head. "Yeah, fine, whatever. But as soon as you need to come up for air, do so. Okay?"

"We'll see about that," I whispered, walking towards the edge of the pool.

"TJ," Weston warned.

I looked over my shoulder and forced a smile. "I'm just kidding. I promise I will."

With one long stride, I leapt into the pool. I stayed under for a few seconds, allowing myself to become adjusted to the cool temperature, before swimming back up to the top. Half of my reason for doing so was to ensure Weston would actually time me; the other half was to show him that I could swim back up to the top.

I pushed my hair out of my face. "Ready?"

Weston stood near the edge with his watch in hand. "I guess," he said with a look full of concern. "You promise to come up, right?"

"Yes, Dad." I rolled my eyes.

Taking in a large breath of air and plugging my nose - to avoid cheating, of course - I pushed my body back under the water, submerging myself below the surface. It was quiet here. Peaceful. The sounds of the blaring music coming from the house were now muted. I felt utterly alone with just my own thoughts to keep me company, and I quite enjoyed that feeling right now.

Opening my eyes, I turned around, taking in the view of the four tiled walls. Looking down, I noticed the design of a turtle on the floor. The green colour sparked under the lights; for a second I thought it was swimming along with me.

"That looks just like Lettuce," a familiar voice echoed from behind.

I quickly spun around, confused when no one was there.

"You remember when I told you about Lettuce, right?" the voice asked. "Or did you forget about that too? I wouldn't be surprised if you did. You never cared... did you?"

My head whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice.

"You never care about anything."

I shook my head at their words.

"You like hurting people," it yelled.

I wanted to scream back. A hand tightened around my neck.

"You like the pain and suffering you cause others."

Remembering Weston's words, I tried swimming to the surface before it was too late. My feet were held down, stopping me from reaching safety. I pulled against the hand but that only made the grip tighter, forcing my airway to be cut off.

I stopped fighting and let my body sink further down towards the turtle at the bottom.

Everything went dark.

A new pair of hands found their way around my body. These ones didn't feel like they were trying to kill me. It felt like they were guiding me away from it. Well, unless I was already dead. Were they this nice in hell? There was no way I could have possibly made it into heaven. The big man upstairs and I did not have the most consistent relationship.

I let out a loud gasp as a rush of air filled my lungs. Slowly, my eyes opened to the night sky. This was hell? I thought it would be a lot warmer; scolding hot, with red flames everywhere you looked and a giant pit of lava. No - this wasn't hell. I was definitely alive. That was not only proven by coughing up the pool water that was trapped in my lungs, but also by the rage on Weston's face as he laid beside me.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you crazy?"

"Yes."

"You promised you'd come up for air."

I looked back up at the sky, trying to steady my breathing. "I tried." I swallowed, trying to provide relief to the soreness that became evident in my throat. Maybe it was from all the water I had just coughed up. Everything that had just happened was still floating back to my memory. I was only beginning to realize the physical pain I was in.

"Here," Weston said, appearing by my side and holding a towel.

I slowly sat up, taking the towel from him and wrapping it around my body. "Drink?" I asked, looking towards the pile of my things that were still on the ground.

I picked up the bottle and took a sip before passing it to him. Reaching for my pants, I grabbed the carton of cigarettes and lighter from the back pocket. I placed the stick in between my lips and lit up.

"Since when did you start smoking again?"

"Desperate times," I said before inhaling and closing my eyes as my lungs filled with a rush of chemicals.

Enjoying a post-drowning cigarette. A therapist could make a fuck ton of money off me.

"What's wrong?"

I tilted my head up to release the smoke. "Nothing."

"Don't pull that shit with me. Tell me."

"Nothing's wrong, Wes."

"What the fuck was that all about then? Because you've never mentioned wanting to break the record for holding your breath underwater before!"

"Stop." I tapped the build-up of ash into the pool.

"No, I'm not going to stop. We talk to each other about everything, TJ. Do you think I'm not going to find out what this little suicide mission was about? You really think-"

"Wes!" I yelled, cutting him off. "We don't talk about this shit. Okay? So, please, fucking stop already."

Weston opened his mouth to speak. Instead of uttering any words, thankfully, he quickly pressed his lips together and nodded. I drew my knees up towards my chest as I took another drag from the cigarette. The silence was nice to sit in, but not as nice as it was under the water.

"You did this," he motioned towards the pool, "Over pretty boy?"

"Wes, we don't-"

"We don't talk about this stuff, yeah, I know. But now you have me freaked out that you're going to go try sky diving without a parachute or some stupid shit like that." Weston took a sip from the bottle. "It's fine, TJ. We can break the rule for one night."

There was a reason we had this rule in place. The only other person I'd even consider talking to about this would be Gwen. However, the last time I saw her before coming outside, she was talking to Patrick. And I didn't want to ruin that moment for them.

I pretended all week to be fine. I guess I was a better actress than I thought. If singing didn't work out, at least I had a possible backup plan. Weston was always the best at being able to read me; he always picked up whenever there was something wrong. My desperation was at an all-time high as I considered getting everything off my chest to him.

"I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do something I've never done before." It was hard for me to explain my thought process; it sounded more stupid - if that was even possible - when said out loud. "That I'm not scared."

"What's this have to do with pretty boy then?"

I rubbed the butt of the cigarette into the concrete. "I ended things with him. And, then I saw him out the other night. He was talking to some gorgeous brunette all night and I-" I looked back at the water. "I got jealous. He can be with whoever he wants and there's nothing I can do about it... because I'm the reason he can. And, I guess I felt scared I was going to lose him for good." I paused and turned back to Weston. "Does that make any fucking sense?"

Weston met my glance. "Yes," he said quietly with a look in his eyes that caused the pit in my stomach to grow even more.

We sat in silence until I gracefully blurted out, "I slept with him."

"That same night?"

I nodded. "He asked me to stay the night after I told him what he wanted to hear. And I said I would but then I left not too long after he passed out."

"That's a dick move, Roberts."

"I know."

"I don't get you sometimes," he said, raising the bottle to his mouth. "You clearly fucking like the guy, so just be with him."

"It's not that easy," I mumbled. Grabbing another cigarette from the carton, I balanced it in between my lips as I lit up. "We wouldn't work."

"And why's that?"

I inhaled a long drag to think of an excuse. "I'm being realistic. Once he puts out that album and gets all his fame back, you really think he's going to want to have to deal with me?" They weren't Carter's words exactly, but they might as well have been considering who they came from. "Soon he's going to meet some stunning model or actress or singer... or a fucking coffee-shop barista who will make him realize how much better it is to be with someone who's not all fucked in the head."

"You're an idiot," he murmured under his breath.

My head snapped to the side. "Excuse me?"

"You'd rather be sad and alone and try to prove to yourself you're not scared by calling yourself a realist and doing," he pointed to the pool, "this fucked up thing - when that's not the case. You're fucking scared. End of story."

I flicked the half-finished cigarette into the pool. "Shut up, Wes," I said, collecting my clothes and standing up. I needed to escape this conversation before he pushed me to say the one thing I couldn't.

"Oh, come on, TJ!" Weston called from behind. "Fine, run off. Oh, yeah. That's really proving you're not scared. Run away like you always do!"

I abruptly stopped and turned to face him. "Fuck you."

"You know I'm right."

"No, you're wrong. You couldn't be further from the truth," I yelled back, my anger rising in response to his smug expression."You don't know what I've done to protect us!"

My eyes widened as I realized what I had allowed to leave my mouth. The small amount of hope I had for Weston to not pick up on it instantly diminished once his smile disappeared. He quickly walked to my side, grabbing my arm before I had the chance to run away.

"What aren't you telling me, Roberts?"

"I didn't end things because I don't want to be with him. His manager threatened me - us."

"What?"

"Back in New York Jeff made it very clear that he doesn't like me and told me it would be best to stay away," I whispered. "I ignored it at first, but then when Jeff saw I wasn't going away, he leaked all that shit to the press that almost got us kicked off the tour. Jeff doesn't give out empty threats like I originally thought. Anytime he's caught Carter and me together, he's ended up leaking something to the press. I'm sure he's the one that leaked that shit about my Dad."

"He's been doing this for months and you didn't tell anyone?"

"Hank knows everything but I told him not to do anything. This isn't worth risking our career over."

"TJ, you can't-"

"Yes, I can," I whispered sharply. "Wes, we have our shot, right now, to get everything we dreamed of. Jeff has the power to ruin those chances for us. I thought he was all bullshit but it's not. Hank knows that he's done it before. I'm not going to risk our future over some guy who is going to move on from me in a few months." Saying those words out loud for the first time was more painful than I had imagined because I believed them to be true.

"You have to tell Pat and Silas about this."

"No." I shook my head. "Silas has some weird bromance with Carter. He'll annoy the shit out of me until I change my mind. And Pat can't keep a secret." I kept my eyes locked onto Weston. "You have to promise me you'll keep this between us."

"TJ, I-"

"Please," I pleaded. "I just need you to do this for me."

Weston finally nodded in agreement. "Okay, okay," he said, "I promise."

"Thank you," I whispered, crossing my arms as I looked off into the distance.

"There's something else on your mind. What is it?"

"I'm worried he's going to do something."

Weston stepped forward. "Who?"

"Jeff." I chewed my bottom lip. "If he finds out about the other night, I'm worried he's going to... I don't know. Punish me, I guess." And not in the way I enjoyed.

"Do you think he'll find out?"

"Carter took me to his parent's house in Seattle and he knew. He texted me while I was there."

"Does this guy have a fucking tracker on you or something?"

I scoffed. "Probably."

Weston rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if he does do anything, now you have two people on your side who are ready to protect you."

"Gwen knows too."

"She does?"

I nodded. "I tell her what I can't talk to you about. She gives good advice."

"Alright, well, then you have three people on your side now."

"Thanks, Wes." I gave him a sad smile. "Now I really need a fucking drink."

The rest of the night was a blur I was unable to piece together - even at two in the afternoon the next day. The last thing I could clearly recall was the line of white powder I inhaled off the kitchen counter, which was about a minute after walking back inside. I had woken up in my jeans - at least I had put those back on - but my shirt was nowhere to be found. Damn. I really liked that shirt.

I cuddled up next to Silas on the couch, thankful that we had moved far past our argument on the bus and that he was in a similar state as me. "Did you guys go swimming last night?"

"I pushed her in," Weston said from the other side of the room.

"Why did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Felt like it."

"Uh, TJ?" Patrick's voice piped up as he walked into the room, "Someone's at the door for you."

I raised a curious brow. Visitors never came by the house. Especially not for me. I got up from the couch and walked towards the front door. I started to slowly wonder if it could be him. And that wondering quickly turned to hope. Anticipation was growing inside the closer I got to the door. Now I desperately wanted it to be him.

However, all hope quickly dimmed when I caught sight of who was at the door.

"Tyler-Jane," Jeff said with a grin, "I think it's time we have a chat."  

:O WHAT IS JEFF THE MANAGER DOING THERE?!?!?!