I wasn't certain, but I had a feeling that I relapsed last night.

It wasn't the best way of waking up - that was for sure. It was confusing as all hell.

That sinking feeling began to creep its way in. Everything from last night flooded my vision. Nothing turned red. That was my one saving grace. There were no hallucinations of paint or blood that dripped down the walls this time. TJ had already fixed that.

Instead, it was only the painful recollection that I suffered from. Unfortunately, there was no cure to stop remembering the events of what I had done.

I wonder what our dear TJ would think about poor Annabelle.

I bet it would change her opinion of you quite a bit.

You know, for being a-

"Mmm, good morning," TJ said in a half-awake voice as she rolled over and rested her head against my chest.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, wrapping my arm around her to keep her close. "Morning. Sleep well?"

"Very well," she spoke softly, tracing the ink mark of one of my tattoos. "How's your hand?"

Stealing a quick glance, I shuddered quietly at its current bruised state. It wasn't painful in regards to the injury itself, more the reminder of how it resulted. "It's fine."

I wonder what our dear TJ would think about poor Annabelle.

I wonder what our dear TJ would think about poor Annabelle.

I wonder what our dear TJ would think about poor Annabelle.

I hoped he was all bark and no bite - but I worried about what would happen if that wasn't the case. What if Brandon came back and told her everything he supposedly knew?

The story of what happened had to come from me. She couldn't hear it from anyone else. But I wasn't ready for her to know. And I didn't want to be forced into telling her over some piece of scum like her ex-boyfriend.

Sweat began to pool on the palms of my hands. What if she thought I was a monster? What if she hated everything about who I used to be?

My chest began to tighten at the thought.

"Stay with me for the week."

TJ lifted her head. "The whole week?"

"Yeah, you're over almost every night anyway. With the album coming out next week, I know you'll get busy so I want to spend more time with you while I can. And for whatever you have going on this week, I'll make sure Mike drives you to wherever you need to go."

"I was only checking that I heard you correctly," she said with a grin, "But, I appreciate the speech to try and convince me."

There were hidden intentions behind her staying with me, ones she didn't have to know about. If she was with me, there was less of a chance he could come by. At least I could buy myself some time to figure out what I was going to do. Telling Jeff was the obvious answer to my problems, but him knowing about the situation worried me almost as much as TJ finding out. I feared he would find a way to blame our relationship for this becoming a problem - a problem he would have to clean up, once again.

At the end of the day, this was no one's mess but my own. It wasn't TJ's fault that she knew Brandon and he somehow knew the truth. And it wasn't Jeff's job to figure out how to fix it.

This one was all on me.

The sound of crashing glass met with Patrick's voice letting out a cry of despair was evident from down the hall.

"Well, I guess the clean-up crew has started," she said as she looked towards her door. "I better pack quickly and go give them a hand with cleaning. I can meet you at your house after if you want."

"I don't mind helping."

"Are you sure?"

"I mean, I contributed to some of the mess too," like the splatter of red across your living room wall, "I'm happy to help."

"Oh, this is going to be good." She got out of the bed and continued with a sarcastic tone, "Carter Young, the A-list pop star mopping the floors without his personal maid service? Wow, stars really are just like us."

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, I keep a pretty clean place when Rosie's not around."

"She's there twice a week to clean. I better hope you don't make such a mess in between those days." She disappeared into the bathroom. "I'm not going to find out during this week how much of a slob you are, right?"

"Have you ever seen my place be a mess?"

TJ poked her head out from the door frame. "I've only been there for a couple of nights at a time. Maybe you get Rosie to sneak around and clean up so I don't suspect anything."

The older woman was probably set to retire soon and that pained me slightly to admit. She was a calmly motherly figure that I enjoyed having around - I didn't want to think about having to hire someone else to replace her. Although in recent years she wasn't always the best at her job, either missing a step or a room completely, I was still happy to keep her employed.

"Rosie's good, but she's not that good."

"Alright," she said before disappearing once again. "I'm just being cautious. Boys are messy - I'm pretty sure that's a scientific fact or something." I could hear her laugh at her own joke. "And, I don't think I could handle living together with you being a slob for the rest of my life."

Ears perked by her comment, I found myself at a loss of words. I had noticed her drop similar types of comments - sentences framed about our future - here and there. TJ never seemed to notice she said such things. Or, at least, she never said them and waited to see my reaction. It oddly made me feel calmer about her saying it in the first place; like she just assumed it to be true and wasn't testing to see whether I felt the same.

I most certainly felt the same - there was no question about it. However, I felt the need to keep reminding myself of what stage we were at in our relationship. We had known each other for half a year now - it was crazy to think how quickly time had flown - but our time as an official couple had been half of that. It was too soon to think of moving in together and our future.

We were comfortable in the present. At least, I hoped we were.

What surprised me the most was how normal everything felt with her. The life we lived was far from any sense of the word normal with paparazzi invading our personal space for a payday and every move having a calculation in front of the public eye. But with her, it was easy to forget about all of that. It didn't consume my mind - or my life for that matter - as much as it used to.

I sat at the end of the bed, watching as she packed her bag, pulling random items of clothing from her closet and dresser. TJ was quite the efficient packer, I had to give her credit for somehow finding the room to fit all her things into one small bag.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she folded a shirt, "You know, after last night?"

"I think I should be asking you that."

She smiled and answered with a soft, "I'm fine."

"I shouldn't have acted like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He's an ass and he was saying some fucked up things. He deserved it."

Pressing my elbows into my thighs, I leaned forward. "I know he did." My eyes stayed down, looking at my hands. "I just don't want you to think of me as some violent guy. I don't want you seeing me like that."

"Carter," I heard her say, sounding closer in proximity compared to before.

I looked up to see her kneeling in front of me. Her smile radiated a sense of warmth and calmness, something I was desperately needing at the moment.

"That side of you doesn't scare me. I know that's not who you are." She rested her hands on top of mine. "It's okay to not be okay around me all the time. You know that, right?"

I knew her words to be true, but I struggled to agree with them. It wasn't that I forced myself to be some perfect person all the time that messed up. Clearly, I messed up a lot. That had been made explicitly evident within the past twenty-four hours. I was also aware of the fact that everyone had their own shit to deal with. Back home there was Dad's injury and possible impending surgery to think about, having to raise Rory, and ensure the family business was kept afloat.

My family had dealt with my troubles already. It was years of pain for them and I felt like disclosing what was ever going on in my head would put an extra burden on them.

Doctor Khan was the only one I would turn to.

Clearly, I now had someone else. I had her.

"For what it's worth," her finger traced over my bruised knuckle with a light touch, "I'm sorry too."

"Why?"

"For not being a normal girlfriend."

"What makes you say that?"

She shrugged her shoulders and gave me a sad smile. "I know the healthy thing would have been for me to get you to talk about it or something. But that's not where my head went."

I took her hands in mine. "Come here," I said, gently giving her hands a pull. TJ got to her feet and made her way onto my lap, straddling my waist. I waited until she was situated before continuing, "Well, the healthy thing would have been for me to not punch him in the first place," I brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, "So, I think we can chalk last night up to a wash."

She nodded her head in agreement yet still seemed unconvinced by my words.

"You helped me last night," I gave her a quick peck on the nose, which resulted in an actual smile to form on her lips. "I don't want you to think you're not a 'normal girlfriend' because of how you helped me. I can't even imagine where I would have gone if you didn't help." My thumb gently grazed her bottom lip. "But, I'll call Doctor Khan and make an appointment to work through it with her so you don't have to be put in that position again. Okay?"

Her fingers played with the chain around my neck. "Okay," she spoke so softly it was almost like she mouthed the word. "I was thinking..." TJ slowly met my gaze. "Maybe I could talk to your therapist about better coping techniques. I mean, I know I could use some better ones in general. But, I want to make sure I'm helping you... not making it worse."

"I think that would be a great idea." I had been trying to hint that she and Doctor Khan should meet ever since the pregnancy scare had happened. At least this was a start.

Her eyes widened slightly as her smile grew. "Really?" She appeared more relaxed suddenly, as the tension in her shoulders disappeared. "Good, I mean, I think it will help both of us. Also, there is something I want to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking about going to visit my mom this week," she said, "And I was wondering if you wanted to come with me."

TJ had admitted not too long ago that her mother was placed in a treatment center. I didn't agree with whatever arrangement she and Hank had come up with to pay for it. However, I did my best to keep those opinions to myself. This was not my area to interject on.

"Of course, I will," I said as I took her hand in mine, and moved my thumb over the ring on her finger.

I couldn't wait for the day I could exchange this plastic band for something real.

There was another loud crash followed by the sound of Gwen's voice shouting, "You idiot! Why are you trying to mop the shelves?"

"How else would I clean them?"

"Pat! No!" she yelled again as another item was sent to the floor.

"Oops-"

TJ leaned back and pouted her bottom lip. "Guess we should go help now before Pat breaks the entire house with his mop."

The two of us changed; TJ had on a fresh pair of clothes while I mainly dressed in the same clothing from last night. Thankfully she found a clean shirt of mine she used for sleeping in one of her drawers, which I happily took over the wrinkled, blood stained button-down.

"You coming?" TJ called from the doorway of her bedroom.

"Yeah, one second," I said, looking down at my phone and opening the new message. I quickly looked back up. "You go ahead. It's just Jeff."

Once she disappeared down the hall, I let out a painful gasp, trying to breathe through my constricted lungs. There was an exorbitant amount of pressure in my chest and my stomach was twisting into a knot - for a second, I was worried I was about to throw up.

I tried to calm myself down, yet as my eyes went back to the message on screen, the panicked feeling only worsened.

Unknown Number: 1 Attachment

Unknown Number: $100,000 to buy my silence or I tell her everything. 

uh oh, spaghetti o's.