I came into work on Friday anxious as hell. I didn't know what was going to happen with Marshall. I'd talked it over with Missy last night, and she told me to act like nothing happened. If I was happy with Caleb, she didn't think I should give Marshall a second thought. I knew in my heart she was right, but I felt shaken nonetheless.

I got set up and began to work on Caleb. I felt guilty, like he knew. Even though nothing had happened. I needed to remember that. Nothing had happened.

He kissed me goodbye when I was done and I wished him luck. He's been doing really well. The judges all like him, and he seems to be a natural performer. He's got the looks, the attitude, the talent. He's perfect.

Missy sat down and shot me a look.

"You don't look like you're following my advice." I shook my head.

"I don't think I can. This should be simple, but I just can't get over it." Nothing had happened between me and Marshall, yet it had changed my perspective somehow.

"I know. I'm sorry about all this." She sighed.

"It's alright. I'm an adult and I just have to deal with it. One way or another."

About 20 minutes later I had finished with Missy and was headed down the hall to Marshall's dressing room. I opened the door with my usual cheery greeting in an attempt to keep everything normal. I stopped cold in my tracks, though, when I caught sight of Marshall.

He was in his usual chair, but slumped down so that his back was on the seat. His chin was tucked to his chest, and his hat was pulled down low. He had a bottle of vodka in one hand, and a can of beer in the other. It was not a pretty sight.

I shut the door and dropped my stuff, rushing over to him. He looked up at me sleepily, his lips moved but no sound came out. I took the vodka and beer from him and set it on a table. Turning back, I looked him over. He was a rough sight.

"What am I gonna do with you?" I sighed, running a hand through my hair. He couldn't go on stage like this. I took out my phone, dialing Missy's number and hoping her phone was still on.

"Hey!" She picked up, her voice bright.

"Hey, I have a bit of a problem. Marshall's in his dressing room and he's completely wasted. Can you stall for me? He can't go out on stage until he's at least a little more sober."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it. I'll stall, no problem. Take as much time as you need." Good thing she works well in a crisis. I thanked her and we hung up. During my short conversation, Marshall had managed to slide even farther down in the chair, and just as I reached out to grab him he fell all the way down to the floor. He started to giggle in a way I didn't think he was capable of. I smiled in spite of myself and knelt down next to him.

"How's it going?" I asked.

"Hey Addy!" He said excitedly.

"You have to get off of the floor. You have a job to do, you know."

"But I like it down here!" He whined.

"Come on Em, you have to get up. Come on, let's go." I held my hands out to him. He took them and pulled himself into a sitting position. He stared at me with a goofy look on his face.

"I like you. You're nice to me and you're really pretty. But you're with that other guy." He looked so much like a child, holding my hands tight, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. Not to mention the language he'd used, like he was a third grader confessing to his crush rather than a world famous rapper talking to his makeup artist. Yet something about the honesty in his voice gave me butterflies.

I pushed the feeling down, trying to come up with a plan.

"Okay Marshall, let's turn around so you can lean on this wall." He obliged, sliding over but not letting go of me. I figured he could use some water, and I started to stand back up.

"Where are you going?" He asked, looking pitiful.

"I'll be right back, I promise." He nodded and finally dropped my hands, allowing me to walk over to my bag. I grabbed my water bottle, which was mostly full, and brought it back to Marshall.

"Here, have some of this." He took the water from me and took a drink, water dripping down his chin. I grabbed some paper towels from the table and handed them to him, watching him attempt to wipe the water off of his shirt. I was beginning to think that he wasn't going to be able to go on stage at all today. At least he wasn't the angry drunk I thought he'd be.

"Can I get you anything else?" I asked when he set the bottle down. He shook his head.

"Do you want to get up?"

"No." He said simply. I moved to sit beside him, unsure of what to do next.

He made the decision for me by laying down. He stretched out on the floor, laying his head in my lap like it was no big deal. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes. He was like a giant puppy. As weird as this situation was, I'd rather him be here and sleeping it off than somewhere else being stupid. So, I laid my hand on his shoulder, listening as his breathing slowed and he fell asleep.

I was just starting to doze off when I heard the door to the dressing room open. I looked up to see Missy and quickly raised a finger to my lips, motioning for her to be quiet. I lifted Marshall's head as gently as I could, getting up and tiptoeing across the room.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Missy asked.

"I don't even know. He's a complete mess. I came this morning and he was like this. I don't know how much he had before I got here. I got him to drink some water and before I knew it he was asleep on my lap. It's been a strange day. Did you manage to stall them?"

"Yeah, I screwed things up in the lighting booth, just to give you a little time. But I guess I went a little overboard, because they cancelled filming today altogether." She looked pleased with herself.

"Thank god. I don't know what I would have done if he'd had to go on stage." I was louder than I'd intended to be, and it was enough to wake Marshall up.

"Addy? Where'd you go?" He managed to get out. I didn't answer, turning back to Missy.

"You're a lifesaver. There is one more hurdle though- I don't know how to get him home. I don't think I can get anything coherent out of him right now."

"I bet he left the driver's number somewhere. Give me ten minutes and I'll get it figured out. You just deal with him." She said, pulling me in for a hug before dashing out into the hall. I walked back over to Marshall, sitting down once again.

"It's okay, I'm right here. We're gonna get you home, alright? It'll be much better there." He muttered something unintelligible in response.

A little while later, I got a text from Missy. She said that she'd called and gotten someone to come to set. They were outside now, waiting for Marshall. That girl really is amazing.

"Hey Em, it's time to go." I said, helping him to sit up. With his arms around me, we stood up and made our way slowly to the door. He was out of it, his feet dragging and most of his weight on me.

A lot of effort and strange looks later, we made it out to the car Missy had ordered. I helped him get in and started to close the door, but he grabbed my arm frantically.

"You're not leaving, are you? Please don't go." It was the clearest I'd seen him all day, and the panic in his eyes made me put aside all of my misgivings. I sat down next to him, shutting the door as the driver pulled out of the lot.

When we arrived at his house, we took yet another slow walk up to the front door. Upon realizing I needed keys to get in, I fished around awkwardly in his pockets until I found a set that worked. I got him to lead me to his bedroom, and once we got inside he started to giggle like a madman.

"Usually I'm the one that takes girls home. But you took me to my bedroom!" He said between fits of laughter. I rolled my eyes. We aren't going to unpack that one. He got into bed, not bothering to change. I brought him some more water, and went to leave the room.

"Hey!" He shouted, making me stop and turn back to him.

"You can stay. Just lay with me for a while." He was heavy on the puppy dog eyes today. And I couldn't resist them. I got in next to him, and he shot me a huge smile before drifting off to sleep.

I laid awake, listening to Marshall's soft snores and considering my situation.

My phone buzzed on the table, and I reached for it. It was Caleb, calling me.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey! Weird day today, am I right? I barely even saw you!" He was as light and airy as ever.

"I know right! Did they tell you what happened?"

"They said that something went wrong with the lighting, I guess it was too bad for them to fix today." He answered.

We carried on, and he didn't seem to notice the fact that I was whispering. He also didn't seem to notice that I was lying in almost every sentence. I hated it, I felt awful, but what was I supposed to do? Tell him that Marshall was a drunken mess this morning so I got Missy to tamper with some equipment? That I was now laying in bed with the famous Eminem after he told me he wanted to be with me? Somehow I didn't think Caleb would take that well. So I made it easier for him by leaving it all out.

When we hung up, a wave of exhaustion hit me. I couldn't leave at this point, not with Marshall the way he was. Not to mention that my car is still in the set parking lot. I slid down further into the sheets, trying not to move too quickly.

I began to fall asleep, finding comfort in the quiet air of the house and the small smile on Marshall's face.