Back to Himself

12. The Day He Broke Me (pt. 1)

"Are you sure you're ready to hear all of this right now? We can go get some foo—,"

"Stop stalling. Remember what I told you on the phone before? You have an hour. If I don't like what I hear. I'm gone. Clock's ticking, J."

Justin smiles.

"What are you smiling at? This is serious. I need to know what happened."

"You called me J again."

I roll my eyes and he smiles bigger.

"Stop it, Justin."

I put on my sternest face.

"You don't scare me. And now I know you're a lot less mad than you were the day my mom brought you to my new house. You using my full government name was starting to freak me out."

A small smile plays on my lips. I cross my arms and get serious again.

"Speaking of—you never apologized for how that all went down."

His face grows somber.

"I'm so sorry we ambushed you like that. It was wrong. I should have just been honest and said I wanted to speak with you. And please don't be mad at my mom. She didn't want to do it, but I kept pushing her until she finally gave in. It was all me. Please forgive me."

I think for a moment, taking in his words.

"I forgive you, J. For that. But I can't forgive anything else until I know the full story. I won't use your full government name anymore if you promise to be 100% honest about what led up to you cutting me off and answer all my questions no matter how uncomfortable they make you. I need the truth, even if it's difficult to say. Even if you think it will hurt my feelings.

He flinches at my last sentence.

"Deal?"

Justin nods as he confirms.

"Deal."

He pulls me over to a large tree stump and has me sit down facing him. We hear faint rustling and frantic voices just outside our hideout as the paparazzi continue in their attempts to hunt us down. I guess that first weirdo called his buddies for backup.

"They don't usually let up easily. We might be here for a bit," Justin says softly.

"It's okay. Something tells me we'll have plenty to fill the time with. Talk to me, J."

He sighs, dropping his head and wringing his hands in his lap.

"The reason—."

Justin stops to clear his throat before looking up at me.

"Remember the psychologist you used to see when we were kids? The first one? Dr. Levin?"

"Yeah, of course. I saw her from ages 13 to 17 and then I had to stop because she dropped off the face of the earth apparently. I showed up to a session one day and they said she'd resigned out of nowhere and paired me with someone else. It was a shame because I'd gotten so close to her. But you knew that already. Why are you bringing up Dr. Levin?"

"She's the reason."

His eyes start to tear up as I study him, confused.

"What do you mean? What does she have to do with this?"

Tears stream down Justin's face as he tries his best to silence his sobs so we don't alert the paps.

"She was going to release it all. All of your records. Every exchange the two of you had together. That's why she disappeared. I reported her. I told the medical board what her plans were and showed them proof. They told her she could either sign some paperwork, quit quietly, and never practice psychology again, or they'd fire her, revoke her pension, and make the reason she was let go public knowledge. She chose the former. They destroyed all her records for the safety of you and the other patients, but she said she'd made copies."

Justin stops to dry his face and catch his breath. I'm too stunned to speak, so I let him continue.

"Milan. She wasn't bluffing. She sent me the copies. The tapes. The notes. The emails. The text messages. Five years' worth of correspondence between the two of you. Your deepest, most personal thoughts, struggles, details of the abuse from your parents, notes from all of the times you weren't sure you wanted to be here anymore, photos of the cuts, bruises, and black eyes you tried to cover up, all of your diagnosed mental health disorders, and so much more."

He stops short, practically hyperventilating.

"Please, love. Say something."

I stare back at him in a daze.

"Why? Why would she do that? Why would she want to release my records?"

Justin sniffles softly.

"Money."

"Why would she get money from that? I don't understand."

"Because you were my best friend. And I'm hoping after this you still will be. Look, I don't think I realized at the time the lengths evil people would go to get sensitive information about not just me but the people close to me as well. Yes, I'm the popstar or whatever, but you were my other half. I made that very clear to everyone. The world knew you were everything to me and that I would do anything to guarantee your safety and happiness. The public saw that you were the most important person in my life. Most people saw it as heartwarming. Some, like Dr. Levin, saw it as an opportunity."

He rubs his red eyes and wipes his nose quickly before continuing.

"So she blackmailed me with your information because she knew I wouldn't pay up if it was something sensitive about me. I'd just tell her to screw off and release it. My privacy had been stripped away already. But yours hadn't. And I wanted to keep it that way. But—."

Justin begins to sob intensely again and I can hear the heartbreak in his voice as he confesses to what happened next.

"I didn't have enough money. I'm so sorry, Milan. I would have paid for it."

He drops his face into his hands.

"How much did she ask for, J?"

He sighs heavily.

"She wanted $10 million."