Two Hunters and an Angel

“You sure the tip we got is good?” Sharla asked, trying to keep her eyes open, her feet propped up on the dash and coffee at her lips. They had been in the city for the past two months, and this was the biggest lead they had gotten.

“Watch the park,” Cam muttered, motioning across the street, though his eyes never left the book he was reading. “Stakeouts are part of the job. Get used to them.”

“But I’m the only one staking out. Why aren’t you watching the park?”

“Because I have you,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

“Screw you,” she muttered darkly, focusing on the park nonetheless. She fidgeted in her seat, the car suddenly feeling too small for her. She looked over at him, “What are you reading anyway?”

He shrugged, “Some vampire book. It’s got its facts all wrong though.”

She leaned her head to glance at the pages, then punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

“Twilight?!” She yelled, the late hour only making her mood worse. “Are you goddamn kidding me? My eyes are about to fall out of my skull because I’ve been staring at nothing for so long and instead of helping me, you’ve been reading fucking Twilight for the past four hours?!”

“Yeah I’m not a fan,” he said, completely ignoring her fury, although he did give his shoulder a rub. “This is not an accurate representation of vampires at all.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” she glowered at him. “I’m gonna kill you and they’ll never find your body. Not that anyone other than me would look for you anyway but...”

He held up his hand to silence her and immediately she went quiet.

“They’re here.” He said.

“No way,” she shot back, looking around, “I’d have seen them.”

Right on cue the figures came, two men appearing in the park across from them, as if the shadows had simply spat them out, so suddenly were they there. In addition, there were three very large dogs, or what appeared to be dogs, trotting up to the men from various directions.

“How do you do that?” Sharla whispered incredulously. When he didn't answer she tried again. “So these are them?”

“Werewolves.” Cam said, his voice hushed. “They’re the ultimate killers, and one of, if not the, most dangerous creatures out at night. Even vampires give them a wide berth. They move in packs, and have territory, kinda like a gang. The tip I got said this park was in there territory, and they survey it every week or so.”

“So what do we do?” Sharla asked. She had been with Cam when he hunted the occasional ghost, or restless spirit, but the most dangerous thing she had dealt with was a vampire, and Cam had said he was a relatively young one.

This was a different level; something in her body knew that. Her heart was pounding, and it only thumped harder the longer she watched them, conversing back and forth. Even the dogs, or at least, the werewolves that looked like dogs, seemed be talking, not so much with their mouths, but in gestures and body language, and the men understood. She glanced over at Cam, cool as ever, and wondered how he did it.

“That’s a thing with them,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Looking at them, for real, brings up some deep primal fear in humans. All you want to do is run. Can’t say I blame you, but keep your head. We’re just here to watch, that’s all.”

She nodded. She had trained for this. She had studied this, all of Cam’s notes that he had made just for her. He had dealt with werewolves before, although was always loathe to do so which she found odd because he was always so gung ho to kill anything else that preyed on humans. She took deep breaths like she remembered, centered herself like her meditations had taught her, and willed her body to relax.

“What the hell...?” Cam muttered, and instantly her eyes shot to the park, where a man dressed in simple blue jeans and a leather jacket was making great strides towards the pack.

“Who’s that?” She asked him.

“I have no idea, but he’s not one of them. Now look, see how they’ve changed?”

She looked closely at the pack, at the men whose bodies seemed to be literally rippling with barely contained fury, at the dogs whose fur stood on end.

“They’re furious,” she said.

Cam shook his head. “No they aren’t...they’re terrified.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide with fear. “But you said...what could terrify them...?” She could feel the unnatural panic returning and quickly focused on repressing it.

And then, the werewolves changed, their fury and terror unleashed, given form. They grew and grew, until both man and dog alike stood on hind legs, enormous wolves easily over twelve feet tall, with claws that could rend steel, and they leapt at the man

The panic was overwhelming now, she had to run, had to get away from those things, those monsters, and it was only Cam’s firm hand that gripped her shoulder, pinning her to the seat that calmed her down, his icy touch giving her a source of strength to cling to.

“This is the worst it ever gets,” he said, “Seeing them in their true form is the ultimate in terror but this is what you’ve trained for, and the first time is always the worst. Trust your training, and trust me.”

She nodded, breathless, sweat dripping from her brow as she willed herself to try and calm down, or at the very least, to not dive through the window and run and scream and...

And then it was over. The werewolves, the greatest hunters of the night were dead; ripped limb from limb in a violent display that showered the park in blood. And with the source of the unnatural fear removed Sharla began to calm down.

And it was Cam’s turn to feel terror.

“Cam,” she said, feeling better until she looked at him, and she realized that for the first time since he had saved her and taken her under his wing, that he was scared. He was never scared.

Ever.

And yet now he was scared of the man in the park, in the blue jeans and the leather jacket. He gripped the wheel so tightly she thought he might rip it off completely, his teeth pressed together so tightly she thought they might shatter.

It wasn’t until the man put his hands in his pockets and calmly strode away, like nothing had ever happened, and it wasn’t until Cam started the car several minutes later, and it wasn’t until they made it back to the little apartment they called home that she could even bring herself to ask him if he was okay.

So unnerved was she by his fear that when he spoke she almost leapt out of her skin.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sitting on the couch and motioning for her to sit with him. She did gratefully, falling into the couch with a thud.

“I’m okay,” she said, smiling that he had asked her first. He always did. “Cam what happened? What did we see? You told me only the absolute oldest of vampires could take down a werewolf, and even then probably not a whole pack of them, so was that a vampire?”

He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Cam you were scared.” She said her voice soft. She wasn’t used to this. Cam was always the strong one. Always.

“Yeah I was,” he said with a sigh. “I was scared because I know exactly what that guy was. Remember when I said werewolves are the ultimate killers?”

“Yeah...”

“Well the only reason I said that was because I thought they were, because I didn’t think these things exist.”

“Cam what was he?” She asked, gripping his arm.

“An old wives tale, a scary story us hunters tell each other.” His eyes had a faraway look to them as he continued. “I didn’t want to believe it because I thought the world was messed up enough already, and because if he’s real, it means that she’s real...”

“Cam.” She said sternly, and he turned to look at her, his eyes focused on her. “What was the man we saw tonight?”

He looked at her for a long while, and she could all but see the gears turning in his head, his thoughts flying as he came to terms with what he was about to tell her.

Finally, he simply said,

“An Inquisitor.”

Two Hunters and a Rock Star

Cam scoffed and changed the radio station, only to change it to a station playing the exact same song.

He clenched his fists around the steering wheel, trying to focus on the road instead of the same Sebastian Jericho song he had now heard a total of five times since he left.

“I hate that guy,” he muttered, barely audible over the loud roar of the engine, yet loud enough that the woman in the passenger seat gave him a look.
   

“In his defense,” she said, “You’re not exactly his target demographic.”
    

“Yeah well I’m pretty sure he’s mine,” Cam shot back, his voice a little more agitated than he would have liked. The long drive seemed to be getting to him, and the fact that it was nearing three in the morning wasn’t helping.
    

The woman groaned, “Oh please, you cannot seriously believe that Sebastian Jericho, of all people, is something other than human.”
    

“Why not? Sharla I’m a hunter, I kill supernatural things for something that could possibly be considered a living. And in that business, you trust your instincts, or you get killed. And my instincts tell me that guy is not on the human level.”
    

Sharla rolled her eyes, “Yeah right, you’ve never even seen the guy; how the hell could you possibly know that?”
   

“Who says I haven’t seen him? I went to one of his concerts to check him out.”
    

Cam could feel her eyes staring a hole through him, like she was studying him, until finally she burst out laughing.
    

“What?” He asked, fighting the embarrassment he was beginning to feel. “It was a legitimate recon-op.”
    

She stopped laughing and looked at him again. “Oh god, you’re serious aren’t you.” And then she burst out laughing again, harder this time, by his estimate.
    

“I fail to see what’s so funny...” he grumbled, the embarrassment in full force now, though he didn't mind. She was the only one who could make him feel like that anyway.
    

Sharla bit back her laughter, wiping tears from her eyes before speaking. “Oh nothing’s funny, except I’m picturing you, a six foot monster with no hair, an eye patch, and scars all over you, standing in a crowd that consists of nothing but pre teen girls and boys who stole their sister’s leather pants and eye liner. I mean how the hell did nobody think you were some sort of pervert and call the cops?”
    

Cam was silent for a while. “Security kicked me out,” he finally said.
   

“Security...” she said, and then burst out laughing again.
    

“Wow, almost made it through a whole sentence without laughing at me,” he said, a grin spreading across his features, albeit one he could not help. He would never admit it, but he liked hearing her laugh, even if it was at him.
    

Finally, she seemed to calm down, although an occasional chuckle escaped her lips every now and again, and it wasn’t until they could see the city lights on the horizon that the mood changed.
    

“So that’s it huh?” She asked. “The place where we’re setting up shop?”
    

Cam nodded. “From what I’ve heard, there’s more than enough creepy crawlies here to keep us going for a long time.”
    

“Been a while since we actually stayed in one place long enough to actually start an agency,” she said. “You haven’t gotten rusty have you?”
    

He met her grin with one of his own, “Please; besides while I’m out there killing baddies, you’ll finally have something to do. Answering phones, talking to clients, taking down notes. I bet you’re excited.”
    

“If you think all I’m gonna be doing is playing secretary you’ve got another thing coming," she scoffed at him. "You trained me way too well to not be right there beside you.”
    

He laughed and focused on the road again. Things were finally looking up for them.
    

“I’m still convinced Sebastian Jericho isn’t human...” he muttered, knowing full well Sharla would start laughing at him again.
    

She didn’t disappoint.

The Ring and the Pond

Will smiled, a sigh escaping his lips as he gazed at the small pond. "I used to swim here lots when I was a kid."

"You're lucky," Courtney said, leaning into his arm and playing with the ring he had just given her. The champagne had made her more than a little tipsy, and accented the bubbly contented feeling she always felt when she was with him. "If I had had the opportunity to grow up with a summer cabin I'd have swam everyday."

He quickly finished the last of his drink and grinned down at her. "In that case, wanna come for a midnight swim?"

"You mean right now? I don't have anything to swim in."

"Yeah that's kind of the point," he said wickedly.

"You're lucky I'm drunk," she giggled as she allowed him to pull her towards the pond.

They pulled their clothes off each other, neither in too much of a hurry. They had the rest of their lives after all.

Taking a moment to admire her beauty, he kissed her before splashing into the dark water.

She put her foot in the water tentatively, and pulled back with a shiver.

"Are you coming in?" Will called to her, his whole body submerged. "Although feel free to stand there naked, I can work with that too."

She laughed and moved towards him, ignoring the chill of the pond and focusing on him, on the feel of his arms as they wrapped around her, the taste of the champagne on his lips as he kissed her.

And then he was gone, having dived beneath the water with a splash. She could feel his hands running down her body, until those too were gone. She held her breath, anticipation running over her as she waited for his next touch.

Anticipation turned to worry, and worry turned to fear.

"Will!" she yelled when he hadn't surfaced. "Will!" she called again, looking around frantically, panic gripping her.

Hearing no answer she took a deep breath and prepared to dive under when suddenly strong arms gripped her from behind, making her scream.

"Miss me?"

She could hear the smug grin in his voice as she whirled and slapped him across the face.

"If you ever do that again, I swear to God I will take this diamond ring and shove it down your throat," she growled, trying not to let her eyes tear up.

He held her for a while, then said, "I'm sorry I scared you. But trust me, I have no intention of ever disappearing on you, so you never have to worry about that."

She sighed, slowly closing her eyes. He drove her absolutely crazy, and yet here she was, unable to imagine life without him.

"Let's go to back inside," she murmured into his chest.

He nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Sebastian Jericho (Scion Version)

Dear Diary:

First I feel I must apologize for my long absence. I realize it has been over six years since I wrote an entry, but I truly thought I had transcended my earlier weaknesses and thus no longer had the need of you.

No, now I realize that the more powerful one becomes, the greater the need to remain human. So I return to you a changed man, more focused, less impulsive, and terrified that I may be becoming the villain.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

Six years ago I played a concert. It was my big comeback show, my return to the world stage. Unfortunately fate had other plans for me. My show was attacked by things that, at the time, were impossible to comprehend.

This attack wounded me and I was rushed off in an ambulance. I was attacked again, and this time I saw my attacker.

Though I had caught a glimpse of her before my show started, at the time I had thought nothing of it. But now, this close, she could only be described as divine. Though she wanted to kill me, nevertheless I found my heart was drawn to her.

I was beginning to fall in love. Something I never thought would happen to me again.

She told me that she had sent her pets to attack my show in order to draw me away from all those people. While she toyed with my life however, someone intervened.

His name was Gunner, and he saved my life from the woman, whom I learned was named Thom, and that she was his sister. Oh and Gunner also said he was my brother. I, naturally, told him he was crazy.

At least until I received my visitation moments later.

Let me explain. A visitation is the term used for the visit paid to you should you happen to be the son or daughter of a God.

Yes, you read that right.

Mine came in the form of a talking squirrel. Yes you read that right too.

I was informed that I was the son of the all powerful God Odin, as was Gunner, and his sister, with which they shared the same mother, was the daughter of the God Loki. Though this sounded entirely impossible, who was I to argue with a squirrel?

In truth I felt the words echo in my soul and I knew they were right. This was the reason I was who I was, why things that seemed impossible to most, came easily to me. In one moment of truth, my life suddenly made sense in a way I could not deny.

Thom was trying to kill me to prevent me from receiving my visitation, and she would try to kill the others as well. Thus Gunner and I raced off to save them.

By the end, we had managed to save all those Thom had marked for death. A pair of young girls named Sunny and Roxie. Though at the time I really didn’t understand what was going on, nor was I sure I cared to, I still fought with all I had, which turned out to be quite a bit.

Thom came to visit me that next night. I learned that though she seemed to be on the other side, we were growing closer. She challenged me to save another of us, a booze-addled cop named Curtis from her in time, to which I replied the loser would buy drinks. While saving Curtis from Thom’s pets, two enormous wolves, I was wounded pretty badly. But I got my drink. Unfortunately, Thom killed Curtis’ wife and child in retaliation.

Curtis, obviously, never let this go, and to this day still pursues vengeance.

Over the next few weeks, Gunner informed us that the Gods were involved in an enormous war with entities called the titans, with the fate of the world on the line. I was strangely at ease with this information. Again these were words that rang true in my soul.

We did what we could as a group, but while I was alone in my hotel, Thom continued to visit. Not to fight, just to do things that regular people do, watch TV, have drinks. Eventually one thing led to another and she wound up staying the night. Though this happened several more times, every time I kept expecting to not wake up, that she would kill me at some point during one of her visits, though obviously that never happened.

I knew I was playing a dangerous game; after all, Thom had killed Curtis’ family, and had told me she was trying to sever the ties of fate that held the world together. Still, I didn’t really care; I had learned that business was business, and that what I did in my own time was my concern, no one else’s. I knew that when it came down to it, Curtis would try for revenge, and I had no intention of getting in his way, even though I would be secretly rooting for the woman I was falling for more and more.

As she told me of her plan, I always hoped she would change her mind eventually, or that I could change it. Alas it seemed Thom was stuck in her ways, and I was beginning to think that maybe she couldn’t change even if she wanted to.

Thom needed three relics to complete her little plan, and while we raced to acquire them before her, Gunner and I grew pretty close. He was the brother I never had. Though he knew of my liaisons with his sister, I believe he trusted me to do what was best for the band, and in that I would not fail him.

While acquiring the second relic, it came to a head between several giants, us, and Thom. Gunner was critically wounded saving Sunny, with whom he had begun to form a relationship. Thom, in a rage over her brother’s imminent death, transferred his fate to her through powerful magic, thus taking his wounds, though she was strong enough to live through them. Then she cast her fate severing spell.

She lacked the third relic so the spell was incomplete, and went out of control. Though we managed to save ourselves, Thom was believed to be dead. With the threat apparently over, the band went their separate ways, to accomplish our personal missions.

Gunner and Sunny went off together, to train I think, while Roxie seemed to drop off the face of the world. Curtis went to hunt titan spawn, and I helped him occasionally. I primarily focused on finding the third and final relic.

Though I had performed a few shows while journeying with Gunner and the others, it was becoming too difficult to focus on my career and my calling, so I performed one more show after which I announced my retirement from music.

It was then that my father himself saw fit to visit me.

To say I was nervous would barely cover it. Odin is a man whose very presence reduces people to a quivering mess. It was all I could do not to fall to my knees. Unfortunately Odin told me little I didn’t already know. He helped me briefly in learning more about the power within me however, and I grew in strength exponentially.

Though he seemed civil enough, I had learned enough to know to keep my father at arm’s length, lest my fate become entangled with his. It was obvious that Odin saw me as little more than a tool to be used for his ends. He was just here making sure it was sharp. Though I can only guess as to what his end game may be, I knew I wanted nothing to do with it. I fight for my reasons, and no others.

For six years I traveled the world, learning all I could, becoming ever stronger, becoming more and more ready for the confrontation I knew was to come. I was no fool, I knew Thom had survived, and would be back someday to claim that last relic. She couldn’t go against her fate.

I had tried so hard to convince her to stop, and I failed. Now I need to do what I must to save this world from her, which I believe means killing her. Killing the woman I love.

Just as I thought I was finally ready, that I could be sure of myself to do what was right, Gunner called me, after six years of silence.

He said there was someone I should meet.

That someone was a young child, six years old, that he and Sunny had spent this whole time raising. Except the boy looked nothing like them.

He looked just like me. And I knew exactly who his mother was. And everything I thought I knew was suddenly turned upside down.

I had a son. I had a son with the woman I loved, and only now did Gunner see fit to tell me. He had the nerve to claim the boy was his; the nerve to goad me on and dare me to try and take him. To say I was betrayed was the understatement of the century. Why didn’t he tell me? Why could we have not raised the child together? We were family after all, so why was I kept in the dark all these years, while he and Sunny played house somewhere?

No, I realized with a soul crushing defeat, we were never family. While I was willing to do anything for this band, including killing the woman I love, Gunner was keeping secrets and letting the danger this world faced grow ever larger.

Surely he must have known where Thom was all this time, and she must have been injured from the spell. He could have told us and we could have finished this before any more people died. I could have moved on, knowing that the world was safe, and though my love was dead, we had a child through which the best of her could live on.

But no, Gunner would not put the band before himself.

As I left in a rage, I knew that if this world stood any chance, it would be under my leadership, not his.

Gunner had found the third relic in South America, but before we went, I would ensure the band would be ready to do what was necessary. If that meant Gunner had to go, even if it meant killing him, then so be it. After all, we were far from family.

Though Thom visited me in my hotel that night, just like old times, the visit was brief. I can’t allow myself to get close to her again, not while she still poses such a threat.

We ventured to South America, and though Gunner and I almost came to blows several times, we made it in one piece. Gunner brings out the worst in me now, when we are together all I care about is hurting him as much as possible. Nothing else matters, well, nothing else except for my son.

Who is a hell of a guitar player by the way.

I charged Gunner with doing what he had done best these six years, keeping my son to himself, while we made our way to where the relic was being kept. As we were about to enter however, Gunner phoned Sunny. My son was gone. I sent Sunny back to find him, she was the best hunter of us all, and I was the only one who could use magic to open the way to the relic. We knew Thom was here already, so we couldn’t afford any delays. I warned Sunny that if Gunner couldn’t keep my son safe, he would become useless, and I would kill him.

I meant it. I still do.

Curtis, Roxie and I entered and found ourselves in a large desert. After a while of traveling, we found a large oasis. With my son playing in it. Things were starting to fall into place, but I still needed a few more answers.

I sent Curtis and Roxie up ahead; I wanted them gone when Thom showed up.

I didn’t have to wait long. I knew this was it, I knew today would be the day. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

I went to war with the woman I love.

Though I unleashed every single speck of power I had, I was unable to kill her, she was still so strong. I did, however, manage to wound her significantly enough that she was forced to abandon her mission here. A small victory but not the complete one I was hoping for. I had one chance however.

I made Thom promise to return my son to Gunner; knowing full well Sunny was there as well. I prayed that Gunner would prove me wrong, that he wasn’t just focused on himself, that he would put the band and the world first and bring his sister to her end, because in her wounded state, Thom would not be able to beat them both.

I was never so unhappy to be right.

Now as I sit here writing this, Gunner has taken my son and left the group. I allowed this because during our battle, Thom told me that my son is the last component to cast her spell. When she cast the spell six years ago, she severed his fate while he was still in the womb. Thus he had been born without any ties to fate at all, making him the perfect catalyst. More and more it looks like fate itself is conspiring to bring about its own end.

For now though, I thought it best to keep the relic and my son separate. However now I know with certainty that Thom must be killed, because the only other way to stop all of this is for my son to die.

But I find myself questioning my cause. Can a world that demands the blood of the woman I love and my son really be worth saving? Though she is a monster, she is also a scared girl, and I find myself growing sympathetic with her cause more and more.

But that is not the path I chose. That would make me just like Gunner and there is nothing I want less.

My therapist, Dr. McGregor told me a long time ago that when I am conflicted, I should write my thoughts in this journal and the answer would become apparent. He was right.

So consider this my declaration of war. In order to save this world I will do anything. If that means killing woman I love, so be it. If that means killing my son, so be it. Perhaps this is why he was kept from me in the first place. Perhaps both Gunner and Thom knew it would come to this. If you did, then congratulations, for you’ve turned me into a monster. A monster who will commit any evil to save this world, if that is what it takes.

And should it come to that, should I be forced to become a force of evil, and take the lives of both the woman I love as well as my own son, then all that will be left is for such a monster to be destroyed for the world to be truly saved.

Thus the reason why I have gone out of my way to make Gunner hate me, for I pray that by hating me enough, it will surpass his personal weakness and he will be able to kill me. Gunner is my ace in the hole, should the absolute worst come to pass. His is the blade I want to destroy my evil.

My name is Sebastian Jericho, and I hope you’re prepared for what is to come.

I hope I am prepared.

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous VI

The following was recorded by Doctor Curtis McGregor and reviewed by the District Court as per the conditions of the deal between the Prosecution and Defendant, Sebastian Jericho.

Sebastian Jericho Therapy Session #3: Present are Doctor McGregor and Sebastian Jericho.

“So Sebastian, I spoke to the judge last week and he’s very pleased with our progress. That little care package you sent to the man you assaulted was a nice touch as well."

“It was just the change I found in between my couch cushions.”

“Sebastian it was close to one million dollars.”

“Yeah that’s what I said.”

“Good lord... exactly how much money do you have?”

“Not much.”

“You can be incredibly aggravating when you want to be you know that?”

“Sure do.”

“...”

“...”

“Okay Sebastian, this isn’t like you at all. What’s going on?”

“This is our last session together, before my punishment is officially over.”

“Are you saying you’re going to miss me?”

“Cute. No it’s just I’m worried I might slip up again. I mean, I’m playing local shows again, small venues and stuff like that, but we’re building up to a really big concert soon. The first one I’ve played since my wife died in the plane crash three years ago. I’m just worried that the stress is gonna get me and I’m gonna hurt someone again.”

“That’s no small concern. Sebastian I can’t imagine what your life must be like, but to me, it sounds like you miss the structure your wife gave you. You’re having a hard time keeping things in focus on your own, and the lines between business and pleasure are getting blurred. Does that sound about right?”

“I guess so.”

“I think that the more you stress about it, the more it will happen to you. The trick is to make sure you have time to yourself, to unwind. The journal will help with that, so keep at that for as long as you can.”

“So make sure that business is business, and my time is mine.”

“Exactly, there’s absolutely no reason the two things need to overlap.”

“My manager is gonna hate this.”

“Pardon me, but fuck him, Sebastian. This is about you.”

“Ooh Doc, you gave me goosebumps there.”

“Sorry, but this is what I think you need, more than anything. You need to do what makes you happy. I don’t mean be selfish and take advantage of others, instead don’t let others take advantage of you. So long as you’re not hurting anyone, why shouldn’t you be able to do what you want with your own time?”

“Oh yeah, he’s gonna hate this.”

“I want you to keep going with that journal Sebastian. It will keep you grounded, and being able to see your thoughts will make it easier to interpret them. It will make it easier to control yourself. If at any time you become conflicted, write your thoughts down, and I believe that the answer will become apparent.”

“Okay...yeah, okay I can do that I think. Hey Doc, thank you. I really mean that. I know I can be really difficult sometimes but you really stuck with me these past few months, so thanks.”

“Of course Sebastian, hey one more thing before you go and this is of the utmost importance.”

“What is it?”

“I’m kind of breaking the rules here a little bit, but...well...if I don’t get your autograph for my daughter I think she’ll kill me.”

“Really, she’s a fan?”

“I dare say she may be the biggest.”

“Well in that case, I’ll tell you what Doc, I’ll do you one better. I’m gonna come over to your house for dinner tonight.”

“What?”

“Do what makes me happy right? Well that’s what I’m gonna do. Oh and I don’t really eat meat products, so you’ll need to prepare a vegetarian meal for me, oh and it has to be a wine that’s at least thirty years old.”

“...?”

“I’m kidding, I’ll cater it. See you tonight Doc. You guys had better be hungry.”

“...”

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous V

The following was recorded by Doctor Curtis McGregor and reviewed by the District Court as per the conditions of the deal between the Prosecution and Defendant, Sebastian Jericho.

Sebastian Jericho Therapy Session #2: Present are Doctor McGregor and Sebastian Jericho.

“I’m glad you decided to come back Sebastian. I hope your holidays are going well.”

“Holidays? Oh right, Christmas and all that.”

“You mean you didn’t know? You haven’t heard the carols in the mall, seen the people shopping, or felt the Christmas spirit?”

“Do you know what would happen if I went into a mall? I would be swarmed to death by screaming teens.”

“Oh right, that whole fame thing.”

“You seem kind of different doc; less uptight.”

“Well I figured that our last session’s difficulties may have been just as much my fault as yours, so I decided to throw the book out the window, as it were, and just try talking to you.”

“Yeah well we’ll see how that goes I guess. Ok doc, ask what you wanna ask.”

“Why’d you stop writing music?”

“Wow you really go right for the kill don’t you?”

“Why beat around the bush?”

“I guess. Well I stopped writing because…wait what does this have to do with my court order? I thought I was here because I beat up some guy?”

“The two are very related I think. And you know it too; you’re just trying to avoid the question.”

“Still beating around the bush after all; nice attempt at a segue though. Ask me your real question.”

“Tell me about your late wife.”

“Alicia.”

“How did you two meet?”

“We met in high school, at a friend’s karaoke party. The two of us brought the house down. We were inseparable ever since.”

“Keep going.”

“We started dating, and after high school we got serious about music. We put a band together, and we got signed to a label almost instantly. It was nuts, and to tell you the truth, I never would have gotten through everything that was going on had she not been there.”

“So she was your rock; your pillar of support.

“Yeah…”

“What was she like?”

“She was really down to earth, very cool and collected all the time. She was the total opposite of me. She used to say that I was always looking so far forward while she was making sure I didn’t trip over what was right in front of me. But she was really driven. She had a goal in mind, and there was no stopping her. I really admired her for that, that quiet strength and determination.”

“Well Sebastian I can honestly say that I am pleasantly surprised. I thought I’d have to fight a lot harder for that information.”

“Me too, to be honest. Maybe it’s that Christmas spirit you were talking about.”

“Maybe. Next session I want to continue this discussion if you don’t mind. I think that there is a lot here that we can work with.”

“Yeah we’ll see. No promises.”

“Oh and Sebastian, put more effort into your journal. It’s meant to be an outlet for your thoughts and feelings so you don’t explode again. Not for critiquing episodes of Dexter, or writing down ‘Funny Stuff Michael Scott Said.’

“Hey there’s some good stuff there, it deserves to be remembered.”

“No, no it really doesn’t.”

“Aw you see doc, this is why we’ll never be friends.”

“See you next session, Sebastian.”

Stupid Rich, Stupid Famous IV

Dear Diary:

No that doesn’t sound stupid at all. I feel like a whiny teenager.

Although I am kinda whiny, and my target demographic are teenagers; okay Sebastian, get your head in the game here.

I’m continuing this really dumb journal because if I don’t my lawyer promises I will go to jail whereupon I will be shower-raped.

Well he didn’t put it quite like that but…oh wait, yes he did.

But he didn't tell me what I should be writing about.

So here I am sitting in my hotel room, debating what the hell should be written in here.

I kinda wish I hadn't made so much fun of that therapist, I bet he would know what I’m supposed to be writing.

Ooh Dexter is on right now.

Gotta go Diary, Dexter needs me.