"We're here tonight to honor the best and the brightest in the feild of media."

Six months ago I would not have imagined I'd be sitting in the Ritz Carlton during the National Media Awards as a nominee. Six months ago I was a total wreck. I had no place to live, a scrap of mental sanity left, and I might have ended up six feet under had it not been for Logan. Had it not been for Logan and Greg both I probally wouldn't be here at all.

Greg was perfect; at least I thought he was when I met him. Greg Parker was a successful stock broker. He was handsome with blond hair and blue eyes to match. Greg and I met at a party thrown by a local socialite. I was actually on a date with someone else when I met him. We clicked instantly and needless to say I ditched my date; Greg and I made plans to have dinner two days later.

We spent every waking moment together kissing and holding hands; it was like a ninth grade cursh all over again. After three months I moved into his penthouse close to St. Mark's Place. Everything was perfect, the penthouse, the lifestyle, even the cat was perfect. I thought everything was perfect.

That's how I ended up staying overnight at St. Gabriel's Medical Center with a concussion and black eye. As a writer for the New York Times I'm one to give details about everything no matter how gorey but this I'll spare you. It had started as confusion over where we were to meet for dinner, then it turned into a fight, and then I said some things that I shouldn't have, Greg got pissed off to the point he beat the shit out of me. I'm also one to exagerate but he really did beat the shit out of me.

I'm not stupid either, I didn't go home the next day. I stayed with my best friend Veronica and her boyfriend Jake. They were more then happy to take me in. Greg figured I'd go to Veronica's and he called and called and called, begging to talk to me. He told Jake he was extremely sorry and how lonely he was without me. Jake just hung the phone up after the third time he spoke to him. Then we just started screening the calls.

After about a week of sleeping on Veronica's couch and listening to Greg plead to me via the answering machine I final gave in and called him. I wasn't the least bit sympathetic with him. I was pissed and if I could I'd beat the shit out of him. He apologized to me repeatedly for almost three hours. He told me how much he really did love me and how much he was suffering without me.

There's is where I became stupid. I accepted his apology and moved back in with him. My black eye healed and we went back to living the life we had before the fight. Weeks went by without a major fight and then months and then we celebrated one year together. Soon after our anniversary things took a turn for the worse. We started arguing more and more over stupid things like who was suppose to pick up cat food and the dry cleaning. Then one night I had gotten so angry with him I stood him up for dinner at a swank, pricey resturant. He came home eventually. He stubbled in the door around ten of twelve, drunk.

Back to St. Gabriel's for a two day/one night stay at New York's finest. This time I had a severe concussion and they had to check for bleeding in my brain. That was two weeks ago. I'm back to sleeping on Veronica's couch. All my stuff from Greg's house is in storage. Jake and his friends went to the penthouse during the day when Greg was at work the first day I was in the hospital. That night he called scream and cursing at me, at Jake, at Veronica, and from what they told me the cat, too.

"Julie, it's Greg. I'm so sorry, sweetheart, for what happened. You and I both know I was drunk and angry. You know I never meant for any of that to-"

I turned the answering machine off. I was sick of listening to him plead and beg into the answering machine. It was also starting to really piss Jake off, he was ready to take a baseball bat to Greg's skull. I sat down at the kitchen table to a plate of macaroni & cheese and chicken. Veronica and Jake sat on either side of me.

"Sweetie, don't worry about it. He's a dick," Veronica always had a way of putting things.

She and I had been friends since I first moved up to New York in 1994. I met her at a diner not far from her apartment. Veronica was out spoken, loud, and hysterical. She was just the personality I needed to open me up to New York.

I moved here from Philadelphia and attened college at NYU. I graduated in 1998 and got a job as a copy editor in the sports department. Last year I was given my own weekly column after the cheif editor read a parody i wrote on a recent sex scandal involving a college professor and his students.

"Roni's right, Jules," Jake had decided to put his two cents in too. "I know, I know. I'm not going to be stupid like I was before. I moved out. It's all over. I'm not going to go back with the hope that he'll put me in a coma." "We're just concerned for you that's all," Veronica said. I sighed, "I know. I'm sorry I've been so touchy the past few weeks. You guys have been nothing but super nice to me. As soon I can find a decent apartment I'll be out of here." "You're welcomed here as long as you like," Veronica said.

I was soon going to realize how difficult it was to find an apartment in Manhattan. Finding rentable apartments was no problem, there had to be at least a million advertised in the paper. The tricking part was finding an apartment that was suitable for living. Veronica and I must have looked at three dozen apartments in my price range and my location and none of them were half decent, all in one weekend. We were starting to feel a little hopeless. I would go back to my apartment that I lived in before Greg but being the idiot that I was, I gave it up and now the building was full.

That Sunday afternoon we came home exhausted and fustrated. We crashed on the couch and turned the television on. Jake was in the other room and heard us come in.

"Any luck?" We both shot him a look. "That bad?" he sat down next to us. He gave Veronica a kiss hello and a shoulder to rest her head on. "You would think that with a million and one apartments there'd be one just slightly suitable for human habitants," I said flipping through the channels. "Just stay here until something opens up," Jake said. "I can't. You guys have you're own thing going on. And honestly if I listen to you guys have sex anymore than I have to, I'm going to put a gun to my head."

It was true, too.

"Hey what about Logan?" Jake said to Veronica. "What about him?" she said. "Remember he said he was looking for a roommate?" "Oh no," I interjected, "I refuse to get a roommate, esspecially a guy." "He's never home that's why he's looking for a roommate. He got robbed a few weeks ago and he needs someone to look after the apartment," Jake said. "Okay, there's another reason why I refuse to move in with him. He got rob. What does that say about the building and the area?" "No, an ex-girlfriend still had a key and she got in and took some of his stuff." "I'm not getting in the middle of a feud between ex-lovers." "It's not like that. She's gone. She moved to New Mexico or something like that. Anyway, he's got a great place. Three bedroom loft, balcony, hardwood floors, great view. He decorated the place and everything." "And he's cute," Veronica piped in.

Veronica thought of all single people as diprived people, like the children of a third world country. Her main objective in life was to marry off every one of her single friends.

"I don't care if he's cute." "He's a great guy, Jul. He's never there so it's like you have your own apartment. Just go look at it and if you don't like it you can always say you tried," Jake said.

I sat and pondered the situation. I was desparate to get out of their apartment, but I wanted my own place. I could just stay there for a while until I found a place of my own. It would be nice to stay with someone else for a while anyway until Greg stopped bothering me.

"I'll go look at it."

Jake had called Logan on Monday and set up an appointment so I could see the apartment. He was going out of town for a few days and would be back on Thursday. Thursday came in an awful hurry.

I sat in my office organizing my presentation to my editors for next week. It was closing in on ten of four and I would be going home soon, which I was dreading. There was something really bothering me about this meeting.