Love Me Like You Do

Chapter 5: World War III

I know they're here. Za, Twist and Leigh. I can't see them, I can't even hear them, but I can feel them. Everyone has that sixth sense, believe it or not. Everyone can feel when they're alone in a room or when they're not, especially in a dark abyss such as the third floor.

What made the studio floor of the Young Money building so different was the way it was set up. There were multiple rooms here, each owning a music station, tiny rest area, and recording booth. Where the elevator lets off east of, where Justin and I are cautiously sliding to, is the "lobby" of this floor. It's circular, and all the rooms to the mini studios surround it. In the center of the velvet cherry red couches is a huge crystal television stand holding an even greater television. We had to do whatever we had to do to avoid breaking that crystal stand or it would be four thousand dollars out of our pockets.

To my left I hear someone sneeze. It's small and cute so I guess it's Leigh and narrow in on her, creating a scary distance between Justin and I. I don't want to risk him another point. The game was seven (Justin and I) to three (Za, Leigh, and Twist).

I trip over what feels like a pokey ass cactus crate, giving me away. I curse under my breath when Leigh shuffles back. She knows I'm here.

And then that's when I remember. I don't have a paintball gun!

"Game over!" I shout, not really noticing that I'm ruining everyone else's fun.

"What?" I hear Justin say from far off, appalled.

"Don't what me, I don't have a gun!"

"You didn't ask for--ow! Hey!"

POP...POP, POP, POP!

Squinting my eyes, I could make out the figure of someone running to me or away from someone. And then the lights were back on.

"I won anyways!" Justin shouts triumphantly, leaning against the center, red couch.

I smile at him, seeing it was Lil Twist who was sent running, his back covered in paint.

"Thanks a lot, Cinderalla," Za grumbles.

"Yeah," Leigh chimes in. She's trudging over to Justin.

I make my way over to him as well, chin held high, indignant. "It's not my fault you guys don't want to play fair."

Justin ruffles my hair. "Little Belieber," he muses, grinning proudly.

I slap his hand away. Where is my bad temper coming from? It's not like I'm really mad at Justin, or anyone for that matter. Maybe I'm about to start soon...I've never been one to PMS, but it is getting close to that time of the month. "I'm not little," I mumble, sheepish instead of indignant now.

"You're two years younger than me!"

"So?"

"So you're little!"

A tiny, incredulous giggle leaves my lips. Justin chuckles, too. The other three, though, seem oblivious to our flirtatious conversation. They're all huddled up a few feet away, whispering intently. Justin sees this as well and smirks.

"What?" he asks, as if he's been apart of their serious chat the entire time.

Leigh looks up at him, thin eyes larger, pale pink lips pursed. "Mm, nothing." She ducks her head and rejoins the talk.

I cross my arms over my chest, irritation building up inside of me again. I need a latte.

Justin steps closer to their circle, and this time everyone looks up at him, their gazes half-expectant and half-annoyed. "What?" Justin pries.

Lil Twist and Lil Za exchange knowing glances then sigh. Does this have anything to do with Alfredo calling Justin annoying? I wonder to myself. The couch is smooth and soft under my resting elbows, my back is to it.

"We don't want to have to do this..." Twist begins.

"But," Leigh continues.

Something's not right here...

Suddenly, Za charges for me!

He grabs me by my waist, throws me over his shoulder and takes off through the west side of the hall to the steps.

I blush, astonished; It feels as if my skinnies are too tight and my converse are too small. I pound on his back, not too hard, laughing nervously. "Hey...! Put me down!" I cry. A twisted nausea forms in my gut and with each turn of the descending stairs, my head spins.

Leigh's right behind us and apparently, from all the racket and angry shouts, Lil Twist and Justin are fighting on the third floor. I'm hoping they're not being serious. Men fighting scares me quite badly...

My attention is fixed on Leigh when she snaps her fingers in front of my face. I want to break them off her tiny hand. "Don't worry, princess," she says in her cute, small voice. "You're safe with us!" And then she has the nerve to wink at me.

I scrunch my nose and just as I'm about to roll my eyes, I slip from Za's "careful" grasp and my body falls head first into the stairs.

Instinctively, my arms unwind and fly out to catch my fall, but they don't do much good for the impact is too harsh. My forehead bangs on the end of one of the fresh marble steps and my body lay like twisted limbs beneath me. How embarrassing...

"Oh, shit! I am so sorry...! Babe, don't move!" Za is saying, but his voice sounds far off...like it's leaving his lips seconds after his mouth forms the words. My vision is blurry since I see two of Leigh--ugh--and hot liquid oozes from my forehead and trickles down the bridge of my nose...Oh, please tell me that's not blood!

Footsteps...many footsteps come pounding down flights of stairs.

I endeavor to push myself up, to be brave and stand and show Leigh how strong I really am...only, I can't. I'm too...too...what's the word I'm looking for? Discombobulated...I think that's right.

I'm aware of Justin's voice, both angry and concerned. I lift my heavy head to get one good look at him and then involuntarily, my head drops and everything goes black.