Ok, I’m not gonna say much here, cos I don’t wanna give away anything, it being a one-part fic. Just... R&R, please, cos I’ve never done a fic in this style before, and I hope you enjoy it. I’ve been taking an acting class where we spent some time making up characters and putting ourselves in their position and making up stuff about their lives, and that’s how this started; cos we had to write a monologue for our final that was 4-5 minutes long. Well, this was too long, and I couldn’t bear to cut it, so I just wrote another one and kept this one how it is. Just so you know, I nearly cried when I read it aloud to myself. Ok, that’s all. ~Starry

TROUBLES MY NAME

Cera sat down in the grass near a weeping willow. She smiled, but tears were still in her eyes. She put a lily to her nose, breathing in it’s melancholy sweetness. She rested her head on the cold stone beside her.

I remember that lovely spring morning you took me to a picnic in the park. It was a total surprise. I was thrilled. Nobody had ever been so kind to me. Nobody had ever cared so much. I wonder what someone like you ever saw in someone like me. I brought you nothing but bad luck, and in turn I brought myself nothing but pain. I should have listened to my mother. “Girls like you are nothing but trouble,” she said. I really should have listened. I would have listened, had I known. Everyone had actually stopped calling me ‘Cera Willis’, my real name, and simply left it at ‘Trouble’. It certainly didn’t help me stay out of it.

It’s not fair to do time for a crime you don’t commit, but that’s a two-way street, and I’ve got a glove box full of unpaid parking tickets, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I was an upstanding citizen like you once –when I was seven. Bobbi changed all that though. “What could it hurt?” she said, “Nobody’s looking,” she said, “They’ll never miss it,” she said, but shoplifting was only the beginning of a long line of infractions. I was a menace to society. At least, that’s what my 5^th grade home room teacher told my mother at conferences; that I would never amount to anything, that I was “hindering the learning of other children”; and that was before Bobbi.

Her name wasn’t really Bobbi, you know. It was Belle, and she despised her parents for it. She told me once that she would change it legally as soon as she turned 18. I don’t know if she did it, but if she did then it’s the only thing she’ll have ever done in accordance with the law. We lost touch the summer after 6^th grade. Her parents sent her to live with her maiden aunt in Ohio. They said it would be good for her. She said she’d leave the first chance she got. I wonder who was right.

After Bobbi, I was taken under the wing of Danielle. She called herself Margo. So did everyone else. I didn’t ask why. I didn’t question anything. You never second guess Margo. Never. She was a grade above me, and tall for her age. All the boys adored her. She treated every single one of them like crap. I suppose that’s where I picked the habit up. That’s where my trouble ended, and our trouble began.

It only took one semester in highschool to become my mother’s self-fulfilled prophecy. I dropped out of school and ran off with Jack. I was 15. He didn’t know, but soon found out when he needed some money for smokes, went in my wallet, and found my school ID. There it was; my name, age, and telephone number, printed in black and white for all to see. He was gone before I got outta the shower. Bastard. He’d left me alone and pennyless (he’d taken all my money) somewhere between Bar Harbor and L.A. with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no way to get there. I walked to the highway.

A nice woman driving a big rig picked me up. I think her name was Alice. She eyed me suspiciously at first, but once I explained I had been stranded, and was not in fact, out to kill truckers, she warmed up a bit, which was good and bad. Good, she gave me enough cash for a day or so of food; bad, she started asking too many questions. I didn’t give her any real information. Actually, I told her my name was Paula, and that I’d missed my tour bus leaving cos I was in the bathroom. She bought it and after a couple hours (well, 14, actually) we arrived at a truck stop just outside Las Vegas. If Vegas was good enough for Elvis, it was good enough for me. When Alice left to use the toilet I wrote a quick note thanking her for the ride on a McDonald’s napkin and slipped out. Nevada is desert, and deserts are hot. If I had planned on getting ditched I woulda taken my sun glasses out of Jack’s car the day before.

I managed to get a job cleaning rooms in one of the posh hotels at the heart of the city; the one with the white tigers caged up in the lobby. Disgusting thing to do to animals, but I didn’t say anything. It was a paying job, and besides, I was Trouble, right? After 3 years (well, 3 years, 4 months) working there I was 19. I had worked my way up from maid to cocktail waitress. I hated the outfit, but the tips were better, and I didn’t have to clean bathrooms any more.

My shift was nearly over one day when I heard someone calling from one of the booths. I went and took his order, then brought him his drink. He took it from me, paid, then flipped me a chip– a $20 one– and said “Here’s a little something for your troubles, Trouble.” I stared at him then saw through the beard. It was Jack. I kept staring at him. My mouth was prolly hanging open. He laughed. It was a cold laugh. He’d left me alone 3 years ago, and now he was back. I’d cleaned up my act; tried to do something with my life, or what was left of it any case. I turned about and went back to my job, but when I finished half an hour later he was still there. I left. He followed.

It was late, and all I wanted to do was go. He still followed me. Just out side the main slots hall he grabbed me by the wrist and swung me around, pushing me in to a corner. There were cameras everywhere in the casino, all casinos in fact. Someone seeing wasn’t the problem. It was whether or not someone would actually come and help me.

“Hey, Baby,” he said, much too close for comfort, “where ya goin’? You’re legal now, ya know. Haven’t ya missed yer Jack?” I tried to get away, but it was no use. He was too strong. Just as he began dragging me to the nearest exit I heard a call from behind us. It was a man carrying a guitar. It was you. You were my savior; the only one who came. I couldn’t believe someone I didn’t know came to my rescue, but isn’t that how it always is? You get what you least expect?

I was in a daze, and before I knew it Jack had released me to hold his bleeding nose instead. He staggered backward glaring at me and said “I’ll be back for you, Trouble, and I’ll take care of your pretty friend too,” then ran out the door. I felt so weak I actually collapsed. You were sweet about it and caught me before I even hit the floor. I was stunned at what had happened, and on top of the whole ordeal there you were, the most handsome man I’d ever seen, carrying me to the stage in his arms like some kind of glorious blonde fireman angel. I swear you had a halo the day we met. Now I’m sure you have a real one.

That first time you looked in to my eyes was a moment I’ll never forget. I could have sworn you had looked down to the very bottom of my soul and seen everything I’d done; everything I had been. I felt so guilty. That’s why I turned away. I don’t know how you made me feel like that. No ones ever made me regret my past. No one until you. I wished I hadn’t done any of the things I’ve done because I knew the moment I looked at you that I would have to tell you, and I would feel ashamed to have done such things. That’s why I turned away.

You were the best thing to ever happen to me. I couldn’t believe you were so concerned for my well being, and then asking me to come see your first show. I know you thought it was forward of you, but it was exactly what I needed, and now I regret not letting you know how special it was. I’m sorry I cried when you played. It’s a stupid thing to apologize for, but I was taught that you apologize when you’re sorry, and I’m sorry I did it. I was stupid to have cried. I know that now, but how was I to know then that you wouldn’t care who I was? How was I to know you wouldn’t care what I did? I felt like you were singing about me; your friends too. Your words rang through me like a piercing arrow. “She’s nothing but trouble. Troubles her name...” and that’s why I cried. Because you knew; or at least I thought you did. Your show was lovely. Your friends were lovely. Especially Paul, who gave me his handkerchief to dry my eyes, you remember? You would have been great. I’m sorry I ruined that for you, and them.

The months that followed, the ones we shared, were the happiest I’ve ever known. I don’t think I’ll ever have times again like the ones I had with you. We had something special. I’m sorry my past got in the way right when I’d gotten over it.

Jack was never very dependable, but that last promise he made to me, to us, he kept. I’m sorry I couldn’t warn you. I would have, had I seen him earlier. I’m sorry. He must’ve been there the whole show just standing and waiting, waiting and standing. You never knew what hit you. I did. You didn’t stand a chance. It may have taken him 3 months to pull it off, but he got you, just like he said he would. I’m sorry I got you in to it.

For being a drunk, Jack was a dead accurate aim– literally. Im so, so, so sorry. You prolly don’t know what happened after that, but I was there for you just like you were for me, only you saved me. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same. I held your head in my lap and brushed the hair from your face. Red stained my hands as I pressed on your chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but it just kept coming. You hands were red as well. You looked in to my eyes one more time, and reached up and touched my cheek. You left a red streak, but I didn’t notice until later. It doesn’t matter now, and didn’t matter then because your hand dropped, and I knew you were gone, lost forever, and I never got to tell you how sorry I am.

He got me too, you know. On my way to the stage, but I was moving too quickly and he got my leg; a non-fatal hit. That, I didn’t notice until later either. It wasn’t as important as, well, you. Security arrived late, as is the custom that when you need things they’re never there. They took him away. He would’ve been in prison a long, long time, but I heard a couple weeks after the trial that he’d been knifed by his cell mate.

The medics arrived far to late. They couldn’t save you, but I already knew that. I had watched the light die in your eyes as the life faded from your body. I never got to tell you how sorry I am. I never meant for this to happen. I would never do anything to hurt you. You have to believe me. I would do anything to change what’s been done. Believe me. I would if I could. I’m sorry, but it’s too late for ‘sorry’. ‘Sorry’ won’t bring you back. My mother was right, I’m nothing but trouble.

I’m not a cocktail waitress any more. After you were gone I quit. Ben insisted on taking me with them when they went to try out for the production deal. They got it; I mean, we got it. I promised myself I wouldn’t ruin anyone else. I’ve left the name ‘Trouble’ behind. I’m just Cera again. I’ve joined band in your place on their request, in hopes of making it up to them. I know nothing I will ever do can change the things I’ve done, and I’ll never be able to replace you, but I can still make you live on in what I do, and I can still help them realize their dream; your dream, and now my dream.

I know I come and talk to you every day, but I came today to make sure you knew everything before I leave. I won’t be back for a while. See, Mark said we can take a trip, all of us, back up to Bar Harbor before we start working full time with the music company. I’ll see my family. I’ll apologize for everything and show them what you’ve given me; love... life... success... and a beautiful baby boy. The only way I could be any happier is if you were here to share it with me. I want you to know I’m sorry, and I want to thank you. I’ll never forget you, Christian.

Cera laid a single lily down on the marble headstone, stood, and walked to rejoin 3 men standing a few feet away beneath the willow. She took a small sleeping child from the shortest. They left, silent tears relaying the dried tracks of the ones before.