I'm horrible. I'm a horrible person, and that's all there is to it. I cheated on my picture perfect fiancée with his more than perfectly perfect guitarist, and I liked it. I liked it more than a monkey likes to throw poo at unsuspecting school children. In fact, one might even say I loved it.

I loved every single last hot, sweaty, panting, moaning moment of it. I loved it all.

"Hey sweetheart," He whispered into my ear as I gave him a guilty hug. It wasn't Billy. It was Eric. His arms weren't Billy's. His arms weren't colorfully inked with scenes from Nightmare before Christmas. His arms were plain old tan except up to his shoulders where his unattractive farmer's tan took over. He also had a scar over his heart where his ex-girlfriend's name used to be.

Item #7: He's never believed that any other girl could take his heart except you, even when he didn't know you.

"Hey, how was D.C.?" I asked, trying to avoid the inevitable conversation that was going to have to take place soon.

He shrugged and scratched the excess amount of stubble that lined his jaw. "Okay, I guess. It was much hotter down there than up here."

"Billy said you guys were outside a lot."

He looked up at me from where he sat at the kitchen table flipping through a pile of mail he picked up when he came in. "They were. I was trying to check some things off on the to-do list I made that has to get done before the record drops." He looked back down at the mail and lowered the tone of his voice. "You and Billy seem to be getting pretty close."

I nodded and felt my knees get weak. I rested my head against the door frame. "I like him. He's...different from the kind of people I usually meet in the gallery." I rubbed my forehead, I started to feel dizzy. "He really likes my photos."

"Well, that's good," He said, sounding bored.

"We need to talk about the wedding, Eric," I said breathlessly. I was going to faint. I knew it. I felt it, but I swore I could will it away.

"I know I haven't been..." He paused. "Jace? Are you okay?"

I woke up on the kitchen floor; my head was hurting pretty badly. I guess I went down pretty hard. Eric was bent over my body. "Jace, are you alright?"

I blinked at him. "Yes." I whispered. "What happened?" I was lying on my back, but my forehead was killing me.

"Oh, Jace, you're bleeding," He said and grabbed a handful of McDonald's napkins from the counter above me. "You fell on the corner of this." His eyes darted over to the corner of the wooden counter, which was a bit dented and was stained with my blood.

"I want to sit up," I said and struggled against his hand that was over my forehead.

"No. The blood will just run into your eyes."

"I want a mirror." Was I going to have a major scar on my head? Was I going to be Frankenstein for the rest of my life? I needed to know.

"No. If I leave you alone so I can grab a mirror, then you'll just sit up."

He was right. I would have. I wished he didn't know me so well.

Item #16: Knows you better than anyone else, and knows what you're capable of.

He pulled the napkins up from my skin and looked at the blood. "We probably should get you to the hospital, baby. This is looking like you're going to need stitches."

I felt a shiver run down my back. "I hate needles. I hate them. No way, Eric. No Way in the fiery ruins of hell will I ever get stitches, no way."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Maybe they can use that glue stuff I hear about."

"Glue?"

"Glue."

"Just as long as they don't have to stick a needle in my head."

He helped me off the cold kitchen floor and I steadied myself against his right arm. We walked out to the hallway; I still had the McDonald's napkins over my head, when the elevator opened.

"Billy? What are you doing here?" Eric asked as he saw the black haired boy step out of the doors.

I watched Billy's beautiful eyes dart from me to the man I was leaning on. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. It didn't look good from any direction.

It looked like Eric had slammed my head into a wall. It looked like Billy was coming to see me, since Eric was home a little earlier than we planned. It looked like I was changing my mind, and deciding to go back to Eric. It did not look like I had fainted from the thought of perhaps having to tell my fiancée that I was involved with Billy.

I watched his eyes fall, and I wanted to run over and tell him exactly what happened, I wanted to tell Eric exactly what happened, I wanted to sit down, because I was feeling dizzy again. Oh God.

"My phone's not working. I wanted to know if you got those pictures back, if they'd be alright." He lied. I could see it.

"Oh, we can discuss that later." Eric said and walked me into the elevator. "We really need to catch a cab. She's going to need stitches."

"No, I'm not." I growled.

"Whatever, come on, Jace." Eric said and rushed me into the awaiting elevator.

"I can drive you guys, I mean; it would be easier than trying to grab a cab right about now." Billy suggested.

Eric looked down at me. I wasn't looking at him. I wasn't looking at either of them. "I need to sit down." I whispered. He let go of my arm and let me slide down against the wall.

"If you want to drive, you can. We can always just catch a cab." Eric played it all off, like Billy wasn't really needed, like the McDonald's napkins were very absorbent and weren't dripping blood.

"Jace, what happened?" He asked and bent down next to me. He pulled a bandana out of his pocket and I removed my blood soaked napkins and my hand from my head. His swiped the black fabric up my arm where blood had trailed down, then over the gaping wound. His lips were only inches from mine and I wanted to kiss him, and he wanted to kiss me, and Eric wanted to kill him. I could feel it.

"I fainted." I whispered. His breath was pushed back slowly by mine. I inhaled deeply and took him in.

"She hit her head on the counter." Eric chimed in. "And she doesn't want stitches."

The elevator shifted to a halt. "Stitches aren't that bad."

"Needles are bad." He helped me to my feet and Eric took my other arm and we hobbled out to Billy's car. One big happy family.

I sat in the front seat next to Billy and Eric sat in the back rubbing my shoulders. I wanted to die. I wished Eric had just called an ambulance, one that I most definitely didn't need at the time, but was in dire need of now.

Billy and I exchanged sidelong glances at one another, and he boldly took my hand in his even though Eric sat right behind us. I wanted to just faint right there and then again, and just be out for a week so I wouldn't have to deal with it all.

Their hands were on me.

Eric was rubbing my shoulders from behind the seat.

Billy was holding my hand, and occasionally he'd rest his palm on my knee.

Their hands were on me, and I couldn't decide whose felt better.