Happy, happy, happy. Dawn had paled hours ago and the midafternoon sun touched the sky, high now and bright, hurting even the most unadmiring glare. Annoying was a word he would ponder, pest he would venture. But shit was the word that would be borne from his lips, fast and furious, unapologetic as the sun blinded him for not even a moment. There was a swift wring and a fury of movement. The drapes were closed now. He was satisfied.... but not happy. In fact, he wasn't feeling very well at all.

"Such language, Mr. Fatone." It was met with the shaking of the head and several 'tsk's.

Joey was chastised and the voice was met quickly with a glare. "Oh, did I corrupt your virgin ears, Mr. Bass?"

"Oh, big words coming from the Phat One. Where is Joey and what have you done with him?" One barb deserved another.

Joey's sugary smile met Lance's sarcastic tone. The punk... "Very funny, Lansten. But haha, I'm not in the mood for your attitude, so if you'd so kindly excuse me..." Joey put his hand lightly on his temple, preparing his legs to move forward, out of the room, away from any situation in which he had to be conscious and think, take someone else's crap... in this case, Lance's. Sometimes Joey just simply wasn't in the mood to put up with it. Sometimes he wanted to be selfish. Sometimes he wanted to focus on himself and for once, be the one that whined, not vice versa. He was fed up with the image of the stupid lug and kind, shallow ear easily made happy. Just because he did not let himself stop smiling in public did not mean he smiled all the time. The camera did not want his problems and he would not give them. Just because he liked the female species, did not mean that was all he did. Just because he didn't like to talk about his feelings often did not mean he did not have them. Oh, quite on the contrary...

But he saw a body block his before he could move forward another step. He was moving in anger... his posture practically screamed it. Joey should have known Lance was not that insensitive. "Whoa, man, look, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

And Joey did not miss the concern in his voice. Almost immediately, he felt bad. It really wasn't that the guys weren't there for him. He just never said anything. Who were they to assume anything? His problems, his views he kept bottled up inside, rather than create any conflict. He was the least confrontational person he knew. Some of what he had to say would not always meet well, that he was sure of, but now they pushed against the dam. Joe had never lacked the element of control.

Joey sucked in his breath, sorry for taking it out on Lance. "Yes, yes. Of course I'm fine. I was just..." He searched quickly for the first explanation he could find. "A bit tired of that attitude of yours... you've been so... annoying lately." It was partly true.

Lance cracked a smile. "The sweet boy from Mississippi... that's what I am right?"

Joey eyes widened for a mere moment. Was there some intuition between their minds? Apparently, he wasn't the only one who seemed... stuck. Their images took over everything, even them themselves.

And Joey smiled. He was a happy person, despite everything. His image wasn't all that untrue, it was just... very simplified. It'd be a lie to say the Joe didn't appreciate the 'mask' sometimes... but not now. "Just like I'm the clueless flirt who knows how to do only that."

Lance's grin became even wider. "I see we have a base."

Joey nodded. "That we do. But Lance, I really don't feel like listening this afternoon, or doing anything at all that takes intense thought. My brain hurts." Joe grimaced.

Lance laughed heartily. "Headache?"

"It'd be a good excuse, but no."

"Then, what?"

"I just want to do something... where I don't have to think too much."

Lance raised his brow. "You know Joe, I'm surprised you don't say that more often."

"Oh shut..."

"Hey, hey, if I listened to J-14, that's what you do ."

"But you know better..."

"Exactly. Which is why I'm very willing to tell you we all feel that way sometimes. It's normal... Of course annoying you guys is a no brainer. And you all wonder why I do it so often..."

"Lansten..." Joey was almost growling at this point. These days, Lance seemed to love pushing the limits, and...

"So what do you want to do?" The question was quick, interrupting Joey's thoughts and Joey smiled at Lance's slyness and innocent expression that played out in his smile. It might have been something he would have done in his teenage years. It might be something he'd do even now. Everyone was entitled to a little fun. Lance was certainly taking his fair share.

Below them, Joey could feel the smooth rocking... but only if he concentrated. They were moving forward, the bus headed toward some new destination. Europe, down to its nitty-gritty, was not all that different from the United States, at least not to him. They were forever on the road... and the roads in Europe didn't feel all that different from those in his home land. He'd gotten used to that in a way, so much that now it seemed normal. He hardly even noticed the tiny bumps on the pavement, or even the occassional passing car. This was life... his life, an existence he shared with four other men. How sad. How sorry. There were always two sides to life.

Flash forward, and he didn't even remember it happening. The next thing he knew, he look down at his hands and they grasped a controller, his fingers, fast and furious. He'd say it was surreal, but he didn't underestimate the potency of his mind. Neither did he understand it, but he trusted in it. His mind made the fabulous fairy tales, and also those not so far from the truth. His mind... was his compromise. He didn't know if he believed in a sixth sense, but if there was one, this was it.

And right now, it had seemingly ceased to exist, bleeding into his subconscious. He hardly remembered the time. All he knew now was that he faced a slick screen, technicolor images flew past one another... or were those punches, perhaps racecars flying past the trees, the buildings, the fruit stands? Well, he was winning. That registered. Lance had certainly delivered to him the mind altering substance he'd asked for... the good 'ole television set, Nintendo, Playstation, DVD. He wondered where his alpha waves registered on the EEG. He wondered if he should be scared.

"Why do you do that, Joe?"

He would have been pulled from his thoughts had he been thinking. "Do what?"

"That side-swipey move. You always pull that one." A slight groan could be heard in Lance's voice as the video game entered into its merry little triumph song, all the while flashing 'lost' on his side of the screen.

"Why do you think I always win?"

It was a rhetorical question, but also one Lance didn't get to answer. Because in twenty seconds flat, the side door opened, letting in a gust of wind and... Justin, cell phone perched on his ear.

"What do you mean I'm asking too much... Oh come on Check... I mean Chaz, it's one night. That's all I'm asking, one night... Dammit, the powers that be can't grant me ONE measly night, your unworthy servant that does everything else you ask...? Ok, ok, I'm not a servant, sorry if you thought I was trying to make it sound like a pity case... Please?! Come on, one night... No, I am not giving up till it's granted, I... Do you really want to keep arguing with me, you know I'm going to do it whether or not... Don't threaten me, you'll lose..."

Volatile. That was the first word that came to Joey's mind. Justin's face was tinged red and his knuckles appeared white as they clenched the phone. Whew... that was not a good combination. Not with Justin at least. Justin... was the most stubborn little brat he'd ever known. Joey had to smile. That's what he loved most about him sometimes. When he wanted something, he wouldn't give up till he had it. Of course Justin's stubbornness was a double-edged sword. It cut both ways, the good taken with the bad.

And unfortunately, Justin wasn't sure of himself, not as Joey was. Joey just knew. Justin seemed confident, maybe over-confident, on top of the world. That was the face you saw in the pictures, the face you saw on the screen, on keychains and T-shirts. But Joey saw him when he wasn't posing, when his face didn't have to be perfect, bright and... beautiful. Reporters and photographers raved, their eyes glinting every second and their tongues wagging at a mile a minute. Oy, a thousand flashes. Such noise when they couldn't seem to understand that there was so much more heard in silence.

Their necks had craned and their heads had turned to see Justin, Joey's and Lance's. He had walked straight through the room, hardly acknowledging that two other people sat on the floor by his feet. Yes, Joey could tell of Justin's focus, unwavering and unrelenting. Both faces near the floor seemed bewildered as his voice faded to no more than a buzzing, punctuated by the occasional damn, as he walked down the hall. Joey had little idea what night Justin spoke of... and little chance to ponder.

For no more than two seconds later, JC came waltzing through the door Justin had disappeared into. Joey's neck hurt. "What are you getting at Jan? Nothing happened last week... not to me either. Of course I'm alright. How are you?"

And Joey knew. This isn't good. Not good at all. Because JC's voice was half-laced with sarcasm.

"Well, it's just wonderful to hear that you are doing so well, Jan... What do you mean what's wrong with me? No, I am not acting strange..."

JC was almost out the door, his back now to them. But when Joe had glimpsed his face, it had taken no more than one glance to tell that something wasn't right. Something hadn't been right since he'd had that talk with JC. Strangely, he now seemed more bitter than ever to Joey. JC... JC couldn't regret this break-up with Lacey... could he? No. Joey's mind would not let him believe that. But something...

"Why'd I call? I... I..." JC was sputtering. "Well, look at that, I'm speechless. Would you like to end the conversation now? We obviously have nothing to talk..." JC's words could have been mistaken for daggers.

Slam! That jolted not only Joey. The door had closed. And that was that. Joey was lying to himself again. Let things be... not this time. His mind was in a shouting match already. There'd be no rest for it was brewing already, the storm that'd sweep them all away...

"Are you having déjà vu too?"

Lance's voice seemed to have come out of no where, words so out of place in this apprehensive atmosphere that Joey... could only stare at him. Dumfounded, his lips found no words to answer. Lance's eyebrows drew upwards at the sight of Joey's seemingly clueless face and wondered if there was truth in the words of J-14 after all. Joey could not escape his own image... he was the Superman with x-ray vision... yet no tongue.

-§-

The voice faded in and out, like some forlorn child's from yesteryear... "Cause it's root, root, root for the home team, if they don't win it's a shame... Cause it's one, two, three strikes, you're out at the old ball game..." Some watery substance... some ball game she wouldn't forget. And as she smiled, her teeth bared, ivory white, evenly spaced, delicate, perfect. Her 'lesson' had not been wasted and she was one move closer to checkmate. She could have bubbled over at any moment. Such an obvious opening... this was what she had been waiting for.

How perfectly lovely. The prance in her step should not be let go as just another one of her strange habits as she crept away from the door. It was time for her to go.. She was happy all right and now the smile was a self-satisfied smirk. If Riley wanted a way out, she'd give it to him. After all, Riley was her friend... was he not? It was too delicious and she couldn't helped the tiny laugh that escaped her lips. It was downright delightful. She didn't care about the looks of insanity that people assumed to be on her face. They could gawk for all she cared. They didn't know. They weren't in. They had never had anything to gain and even more to lose. Well, I do!

Her eyes narrowed for no more than a moment before the sweet smile came over her face again. She'd help him all right, in just her way. Suddenly it seemed as if Luciana's shining light could be hers. Her green eyes were dark and her hand intertwined slender fingers. Nobody ever said it was going to easy and she in no way thought it would be. But with a little planning... she could pull it off, couldn't she? Yes. Of course she could. She just needed a few things, to make a few suggestions. There was a frown, just slight, no more. How...?

Oh, she knew.

She made her way over to the pay phone, near the entrance of the building in the building. She hated pay phones, they seemed so dirty to her, unclean... And that's how she would start. She reached into the pockets of her snug jeans skirt. Thirty-five cents plus, to her it meant nothing. Success was worth more than money, any cost really... any life, but hers. She hoped it wouldn't come to that... but hadn't it already?

She shrugged. Oh well, it was easy enough. Her hand came out, effortlessly and dialed a number she knew by heart. What was that about keeping you friends close... and your enemies closer?

She heard the hello. She put the perk in her voice. She spoke out of caution. "Luciana, oh dear, I think I left something at your penthouse..."

And she knew somehow that this had to be better than anything she had ever done before. This... this had to make an impact.

-§-

She thought Martha didn't care. She was wrong. Martha cared... that everything went smoothly. And if Skye stayed out of her way... all the better. The light from the banker's lamp beside her bed was dim and didn't fully reach the window seat in which she sat tight, still ungainly, her chin resting on her knees. Uncomfortable, she shifted and watched the rain come tumbling down and wetting the window pane. It had been raining a lot lately, both outside and inside. And she wondered, was it raining there as well?

'There', the 'there' she spoke of, was more than a thousand miles away. It was in some village, some town in Italy, where Luciana had taken her bow. This new chapter of her life felt strangely old. Her reflection had not changed any. The sad line of her mouth still stared back at her. She lowered her eyes quickly. She didn't want to see her reflection anymore. She didn't want to see the slippery cold pane. Why was it still raining? Why was she still sitting there?

She turned and her eyes took to the light. It shown the brightest on her bed, on a flat book, open to a page of moralistic junk, a jumble of information that meant little more than nothing to her. She... It wasn't that it was boring, or any less interesting than she had imagined, but she just couldn't... couldn't focus. Her mind was not where it quote on quote 'should be'. She guessed that made her a bad student. Her eyebrows knitted together. She should have been better than that. She was so bad at so much.

She'd had this book for over a week now and she hadn't gotten past page twenty. Due Friday. How long could she follow commands? And what was it like there? Did they have commands? Of course they did. There were always rules, she knew. But what rules? Rules that said she had to stay. Rules that said they had to go. Rules that made this longing in her heart seem as though they were tearing her to bits and would spend eternity initiating her torture.

Lucy was there. He was there. She was here, in this place that felt so foreign to her. She hadn't called tonight, though Skye had hoped she would. Skye didn't have to wonder what she was doing at this hour, still awake and pacing the floor instead of in bed, trying to read and falling asleep on the book. She was waiting for one forlorn ring... the one that had never come. Of course, he was maybe just waking up and she'd still be sleeping, like she should be, because it was still the wee hours of the morning there. Maybe he was still awake, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, something Skye had done so many times before. Maybe he... maybe he was dreaming. What about? Maybe he smiled with Lucy in his arms... Maybe... that was all there was. 'Maybe's in an air thick with wonder. That's all she had to hold on to and a fragile heart with dreams too big to keep.

And Lucy was there. She couldn't get it out of her head. Lucy was there... she stopped by occasionally, or so he'd said. Why was she there and not here? Why had she not visited, even once? She was busy... Yes, that was it. Lucy had said it herself and Skye could see it very well. Lucy had said it wouldn't be a stable life, she was always traveling places, here and there, always working, posing. That was no kind of life for her sister, Lucy had said. Lucy had hired a tutor for Skye and two days later, a book had appeared in the mail, the one lying on her bed. She was to read it before they began meeting, along with other books she still hadn't cracked open. Lucy said Skye would recieve the education she had never had. Her sister just wanted to see that Skye had the best... wasn't that true? No, Lucy's plight in life was not Skye's, nor would she encourage it. She had sent Skye home, to a life better, she said. But what kind of life was it without Lucy?

Maybe if she just stuck to her 'maybe's... Maybe Skye would find some comfort in them. Maybe... maybe Lucy was thinking about her. Maybe Lucy was wondering too, if Skye was ok. Maybe she'd call tomorrow. Maybe... Skye trembled, a thought was slipping through the cracks of Skye's sheild, as it always did... doubts, her enemies and the plague that had rained down upon her. And maybe... maybe Lucy's heart was the furthest it had ever been.

She couldn't tell the difference between the pane and herself any more. Those teardrops.. they were only water droplets on the pane, weren't they? Yes, just on the pane, it... it had to be. The warm moisture sliding her cheeks was forgotten, ignored and fading as Skye closed her eyes. She was dreaming, wasn't she? She was imagining everything and Lucy loved her, was thinking about her, and would call tomorrow. Yes, that was the truth. There could be no other.

The rain was a mirror, wet as her soul. No, it couldn't be. Everything was perfect, wonderful. Nothing was wrong. No, of course not... she wasn't fighting a losing battle of half-truths and love. No. Never.

-§-

Jet-puffed marshmallows and a bowl of candy-corn; he had laughed at the irony of it all, situated in a place nobody ate. Watch your figure- it was the same for everybody. He'd never had to watch it, fat melted off him, but he could maintain his body. He was in better shape than he had been for a long time. He'd just gotten back from the gym, a lonely time for him, but it cleared his mind. He'd run into Katie, whom had a slight crush on him. He appreciated her longing glances; they made his ego swell. He chuckled.

She'd asked him if he'd gotten an invitation, the one to the ball he'd been talking about. Of course he had. It was natural he would, but he played it down because Katie was his friend. He'd met her a year and a half ago, at this very same gym. He wondered if she still trained her because of him, or maybe she was just comfortable with this. Whatever the reason, she was bubbly, fun to talk to, but nothing more. He took it for what it was.. unrequited love on her part; fun for him.

His hey-day hadn't gone, but he remembered his success as an amateur, a new face, the one everyone wanted. Success felt good, it felt right. Perhaps that was what had kept him here so long. Four years ago... he had set foot in New York, with stars in his eyes. The stars had never let him down, though they crowded his vision. He was one of the lucky. He had what it took.

He could do anything he set his mind to. That's what his Momma had said before he left, saddened and displeased that he was leaving, but wishing him well all the while. Those were the last words she had ever said to him, save the 'I love you' that had come as she hugged his tall frame tightly to her petite one. And then she let him go and walked away, back to his father who had never would approved of his leaving. 'A model' he scoffed. 'Well go on and do what you want to do. Throw away all those years that we loved you and got you through school. Be another pretty face. You'll come back. And you'll see that we told you so.'

His father had always been a bitter man, but Riley had never come back. And he'd never thrown those years away. He looked in the mirror each morning and saw his father's strong face, without the frown lines and the wrinkles that came with age; eyes as blue as his mother's. He wondered if his father had ever seen that he'd done his duty. He called him sir. He'd loved him in the only way his father had made it possible. He loved him enough that he'd never let his father say, 'I told you so.'

In the years that had gone by, he'd sent two cards home, one to his mother and one to his father, Christmas two years ago. To his mother he poured out his heart, line after line trying to document two years to fit on the span of a fourteen by twenty-one Hallmark card. It just wasn't possible. To his father he sent a postcard with a picture of Toronto's downtown on it. On the back, he'd written seven words. 'Dear Sir, I've made it. Sincerely, Riley.'

He'd never gotten anything back, not even from his mother, but he did recieve a call from his brother. 'Momma loves you'. He knew she did. She knew he'd make it. He could do anything he set his mind to. He believed her.

And he'd set it on Justin.

-§-

The morning had been relatively uneventful. She had known it would be. Leisure had never been Luciana's cup of tea, but she had patience. Never fear. She stretched and yawned on the couch, her muscles a little stiff from sitting too long, her hair damp. She taken a shower a half an hour ago. Cleanliness was next to godliness... wasn't that what they said? But she didn't shower needlessly. She didn't desire any god, but her.

She checked her watch. She wanted to be sure to call at a suitable time, given the time difference and all. Perfection... it was the clock in which she timed everything by. And now it was time, she could tell, her instincts honed. The smooth surface of her face revealed no displeasure or vice versa. Rather, she was as she always was, calm, cool, and collected, the smallest hint of a smile upon her face. Who knew such eyes, with their long dark eyelashes, could hold so much behind them?

Times were busier than they had been in weeks, but it was expected, what with the event and all. The iron was hot as she saw it, and prime she would strike. She'd carefully bred the times to be certain her spot would not be taken. She had never been one to wait and watch and to be sure, she wasn't waiting for anybody. Her act was almost set in stone... and no one knew it for the better.

Her long, slender legs stretched out before her and she leaned to the low glass coffee table in which laid magazines, flowers, compliments of the hotel, and also... her cell phone. She had set it there just before her shower. It was time to call.

She flipped it open and pushed the necessary buttons before holding it gently to her ear, her face still expressionless. Nothing could be seen over the phone. "Good morning, Martha, may I speak to..." In this time, she'd arisen from the couch and made her way over to the small window, that looked out to an Italian courtyard, modest, yet attractive. In the middle stood a fountain and at center, a statue of a young girl, maybe a nymph, bent over. Water flowed from her hands. The frivolous nature of such, it had no real purpose... yet it was innocent, pure in its white stone, but Luciana saw it for what it was...

"Skye?"

... something more that should stay out of her way... and be crushed if it interfered. It was nine AM and Luciana was ready for work. She'd have to break the bad news to Skye... and she didn't mind one bit. "Hey sis. How's Toronto been treating you?"

-§-

The bumbling idiots. Had they no decency to grant him one night? Oh, it had been meticulous, but everything had worked in his favor, as he had hoped they would. He needed them to, desperately... He'd promised her, and even if this was one promise he could break, he simply did not want to. He didn't believe he risked losing her in confusion that lived amongst him, maybe even in him himself, but he risked much more... their happiness. Two months out of five was no way to keep a relationship. Though she had said she didn't mind, Justin was not happy about it, not happy at all. He was a better man than that. And now, he wanted to show Luciana and that meant no more broken promises, just living upon his word. There had been so many times he let her down...

She understood.

He didn't.

And how she stood by his side through thick and thin.

Oh, he owed her much more than a smile, a hug, or a kiss. He owed her as much as he could give and he'd give it freely for she had never asked. That was the beauty of it all. He wanted make her happy. Seeing her smile was enough to make him do so as well. Anything in his power...

Justin had been walking down the narrow corridor, passing door upon door sparingly, as the rooms were spaced well apart. These walls were thick, that he loved, rich and made of stone, rather than plywood and drywall. He'd left her sleeping, the jet lag having finally caught up to her. The time change had been drastic and he was surprised she had not immediately felt its effects. He wondered if she had yet awoken. She looked so at peace in her sleep, the steady rhythm of her breath soothing him, numbing his soul to fill with warm and fuzzy thoughts... wouldn't she like to know? Maybe, just maybe, he'd catch a glimpse of that again... He made sure to step lightly. Already, he could see his room door ajar.

But he was in for disappointment. Voices fled from the room, a low low tone he had to strain to hear and make sure that yes, it was there and he was not imagining things. He had to strain to identify... His face lit up once more... Luciana.

And he continued to creep, his face captured in a slick smile, his body hunched in silly shapes, the pink panther, only not pink. He liked a good surprise as much as the next person. Her voice was becoming clearer and clearer to him, her syllables lighter until he reached the frame of the door and stood beside it, out of her view. A surprise he craved. He could hear her loud and clear. "Skye, I'm really sorry..."

Justin turned to reveal himself... what? She was sorry? He'd stopped cold, his ears perking with an interest not unheard of to him. "I just can't make it. I really, really wish it didn't have to be this way, and I'm not happy about it, but I can't dictate my life. I'm at the beck and call of my agent, who signs me up for things without asking me first..."

Pause. And Justin could feel the silence pounding in his ear.

"I know that's not right, but I have a schedule I'm to keep that says the dates when I can't make it... He planned this for me before he knew you were coming. It was my fault really. I should have planned way ahead, but I didn't know I was going to get in touch with you when I did... Don't say you understand, Skye, this isn't fair or right. This is your first birthday we could spend together in three years and I can't make it for godsakes. It's even your eighteenth! God, I feel horrible, but it's beyond my means. I'll make it up to you, I swear. I'll do anything..."

And Justin slouched away, the grin on his face having vanished some time ago. Around his head seemed a halo, the sun brandishing his dark hair gold. No, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right and Luciana couldn't do one damned thing about it... but Justin could. Those bastards in charge are in for more than they can handle. He had a distinct feeling he should call it Operation: Justin. He'd save the godliness factor for another day when he had time to spare. Today, his mind was occupied. He did not know the meaning of defeat. They always said miracles could happen. Well, what existed beyond that? For Justin there was no 'could' only 'would'. Luciana would smile. Skye would too. Feel free, Curly. You've got a lot of thinking to do. A smile touched down. He'd make it all right. What peace of mind.

-§-

"Skye, Mr. Buchanan is on the phone, line two..."

Martha's voice echoed in, bouncing on marble to reach Skye's room, down the hall. Skye was on line one and she was in no hurry to get off. "Who?" asked Skye, not loud enough for Martha to hear, but most certainly, the person on the other end.

"Your tutor," the voice answered quickly. "I've been tying up the phone..."

"No you haven't Lucy..."

"Luciana, Skye, and yes I have. I've been on the phone with you for almost forty-five minutes now."

"That isn't that long..."

"Skye, I have to be down in ten minutes. We might as well say good-bye now."

"Why..."

"I'm sorry, Skye, I wish we had longer, but your education is more important than this. You know that."

Skye was about to say no, but rethought her answer. Lucy... Luciana wouldn't like that. "Yes, but it's only ten more minutes..."

"I have to change anyway Skye. Please, don't make this harder than it has to be. I'll call you again. Why do you seem worried every time I call that I won't call again?"

"Because..."

"Wait, don't answer that. I hear them calling me. Skye, I really have to go, ok? Be a good girl for me."

"I will, Lucy..."

"Luciana."

"Luciana," Skye corrected herself, hurrying to get on with what she had been saying.

"Good, now say good-bye Skye. Miss me."

"Good-bye Luciana, I..." It was so important that she said it, that Luciana knew.

Click. And dial tone filled Skye's ear. "...love you."

Skye crumpled.

-§-

-A week later-

"Where are you, Jan?"

"I don't suppose you can hear the silence around me?"

"I just love that sarcasm in your voice."

"Yea? Well, I hope you got your fill, cause it ain't lasting long. I can't believe..."

"Can't believe what Jan?"

"That I'm here. Joey... this doesn't feel right. My stomach's a mess."

"There's a lot more that's a mess."

"I know." And she did. That was why she questioned her purpose here. She didn't think he wanted to see her face and she didn't understand. What had she done to him? What was so wrong to make him depise even the sound of her voice? And why did he keep calling?

Was there some sadistic element on his psyche that wanted to hurt her with his unkind words? She didn't want to let him see... what an ass he'd been lately. Because if he couldn't see it himself, it wasn't worth telling him more than once. And she'd done that. And he kept calling, a longing to hear some part of her voice maybe, and her his. It was bizarre. She wouldn't let him see her flinch. But she did flinch. Even now. "But that doesn't change any of the facts. I'd bet you a thousand dollars right now that he doesn't want to see me."

"He's just confused, Jan." He was making excuses now. She could tell. Her heart wanted to believe him, but heer mind was not that gullible.

"You've been telling me that for a week." It was true. He had.

"But I'm sure I'm right." As if it mattered.

"And Justin is the new poster boy for Gap."

"Actually... That wouldn't be so far-fetched..."

Her voice tensed. "You know what I meant."

She could hear the sigh on the other end of the phone. It was heavy and low. "I know."

Jan wished she could be chipper. She tried. "So is my knight in shining armor coming to pick me up?"

"Oh, shit. Have you arrived already?"

"Joe. You're the one that sent me the ticket. You should know what time I'm supposed to arrive."

"Yea, but... things in Europe are notorious for being late."

"Bullshit. Now why aren't you here?"

"Oh, Jan, I never knew you felt that way... I'm your knight in shining armor?" His tone was suggestive, light, something she needed to lift her spirits.

She cracked a smile and a laugh. "Don't get me started Phat One. Just come get me. I'm starting to think you planned for me to be stood up..."

"Oh, Jan, how could you think such unkind..."

His words faded into a distant background... Unkind. It reminded her so much of him... But she wasn't one to crumple, not for any man. She thought she had him all figured out. Maybe she did. Maybe he wanted her to crumple. And she just wouldn't give him that pleasure. She just wanted to see those sad lips smile again... and then maybe at her too. It seemed Jan always wanted something she could never have. And then the things she didn't care either way for just came to her. Maybe her wish lists had gotten crossed. Maybe she shouldn't care. It was easier said than done.

"Jan...? Jan!"

"Huh?"

"The meter's running. Is anybody home?"

"I'm here."

"Well good. I can't come get you."

"It's called a cab."

"And I'm calling one."

"Ok." And she was ok with that. Click. She hung up the phone. No good-bye. She'd see him soon enough... and others. She wondered... how soon would good-bye come? Well, she didn't plan to give up. She hadn't come all this way to cower in his shadow. She was a fighter. Spitfire to you.

-§-

Things were looking up. Forget the crap about: today was his day. This whole damn week had been his week. His lips curled up like a cheshire cat's, devilish. If he had a collar, he'd turn it up. If he was flexible enough, he'd give himself a pat on the back. Oh wait, he took that back, he already had. He laughed like some mad man or the mad hatter in Alice in Wonderland, but only to himself. Believe you him, the self-satisfied smirk that sat on his face was there for a reason. And he couldn't believe how smoothly it had gone.

It was then that she'd left not five minutes ago that Justin began. She'd boarded a plane. He'd seen her off. She had looked sad, but she had not told him the reason for it. Well, he knew and he didn't like that face one bit. And it wouldn't be like that if he could help it. Little did she know... Well, she wouldn't know because he wouldn't tell her. It'd be a surprise... for everyone involved. Except him. He corrected himself. Except him of course. He was the mastermind.

A hundred and twenty percent... it was a joke. He would not give less than two hundred and he'd do it effortlessly while Wade's jaw dangled wide at the change in the boy he'd cursed less than a week ago. And why not? Justin was at the top of his game. Crafty, sly, getting his way... and he loved every minute of it. Management had been no match for Justin, spoiled pop star. He'd refused to back down until his needs were met. Like apples dropping from the tree they were, falling into his lap... one day after the next. He'd cleared it. The days were his... he knew... the importance of a smile.

These girls... what had life offered them? Nothing more readily than a chance to fail. Such a damned shame. They deserved better. Yet neither were bitter at the pitfalls life had thrown. Perhaps they had acclamated, become accustomed. Maybe... just maybe they thought it was normal. Justin blanched at the thought. Well, for some better purpose he'd been led to them. Everything had purpose; what would be, would be. Justin firmly believed that, for look where he was. It was his destiny to be a spoiled pop star. Just as it was his destiny to meet them; he'd be so lucky. He was glad they were not bitter, because Justin was sure he was there to show them how much better it could be. And oh, it could be that much better. Just leave it to him. It wasn't just basketball that took skills.

-§-

Her hand was shaking. It was unnerving. And her hand was shaking. She couldn't quite touch the handle for her hand would not even steady enough to pull it open. Her hand was shaking. Something was gravely wrong and it was not the crowd of girls sitting outside while bodyguards kept them out of the hotel, grand by all means... That was actually more normal, although she had not taken it into account that they might have fans overseas so she had been surprised as she stepped out of the cab. She had had to show them some identification before the bodyguards let her in. Thankfully, Joey hadn't forgotten her.

Still, her hand shook What did it mean? As if she should even have to ask. One breath at a time... that was how she would take it. She'd paid the cab fare, she'd failed to wave good-bye, but stared longingly at the cab as it drove away. For all the strength she knew she had inside of her... she had a weakness as well. She was unfailingly human.

Swoosh.

Creak.

A gust of air.

Jan almost fell off balance.

But an arm steadied her.

"Jan?" And a loud yet meager crowd compared to that which she saw in the US cheered and yelled in what she could only imagine to be Italian.

Thankfully it wasn't him. Anyone but him. Instead it was a deep deep voice filled with Southern charm and he was unphased by the crowd behind her as he looked up, smiled, and waved. She wondered how routine that was. The crowd was forgotten... for now. "Come in," he said without hesitation, ushering her inside as if she'd already said yes. "I didn't know you were coming." He spoke as though nothing had happened. Well, maybe not to him.

She didn't know how she did it, but she managed to smile. It was shaky, but it was a smile. "I guess I've been discovered then."

The door was shut. Before them was a hallway leading into a lobby.

His green eyes flashed concern. Her look hadn't gone unoticed, but he didn't ask as readily. "Does anyone know you're coming? JC?"

Last month flashed through her mind. She'd met him briefly along with Chris before she'd had to leave for a shoot, literally for maybe ten minutes. She couldn't claim much knowledge of them, but they seemed nice enough and open, not guarded, unlike some people. "You're asking a lot of questions for someone who's met me only once."

That had come out wrong. She wanted to tell him that, but she didn't get the chance.

"Yea, Jan, but you were smiling then, not acting like you're about to fall over." Concern for a stranger had seemed to override her rudeness in his eyes. She immediately felt bad. Her eyes were downcast already.

"Jan?" A warm hand touched her shoulder and from that itself she shivered. "You're not running away from something are you?" He had noticed her frazzled state.

"I only wish," but it was more a mumble than anything.

"What?"

She wished her voice could have been a little more genuine. "Of course not, Lance. Joey invited me up here." It was true.

Lance's brow went up. "Joey?"

"Yeah... what?"

For a minute Lance looked almost disturbed. "Nothing, Jan." But he said it a little too quickly to convince her of that. "Umm, where is Joey?"

"I was just about to ask you that. Listen, Lance. I'm sorry." She was hurrying on, her eyes darting to the door every other moment. She was on her guard.

He wasn't by any means stupid, though unfailingly polite. "Apology accepted. Would you like me to take your bags, or are we going to stand here forever?" He was eyeing the bags in her hands.

It was only then she realized that she was still standing there, in the hall. She almost said no. It was as if... completing this step would be to fix her destiny, the one she couldn't predict. That one step... Jan had to know that there was no turning back. She looked up to Lance's fresh, dapper face, his eyes a clear green, almost crystalline. There was nothing in those eyes but the purity of truth and simplicity. Not like hers, which were filled with fear she'd never wanted to harbor and that which she fought against tooth and nail, mind and soul. It was the fear she'd always said she'd never feel for anything. Well, she did now and her desire was greater than it had ever been. She did now... and it was for him... the first one to ever bring out that other side. It had to mean something didn't it? She hoped.

The curve of her lips was not disingenuous, but rather unsteady. "Thank you, Mr. Bass. It'd be my pleasure."

It was only then he let a small smile appear on his face, though not without worry. "Call me Lance, Jan."

"That'd be my pleasure as well." He took the bags from her hand and placed them on a gold-plated trolley cart, briefly turning away from Jan to set them down. "Room 1326..." He turned back to Jan. "How about finding Joe?"

"That'd be ok."

He looked at her funny. "Just ok? It wouldn't be your pleasure?"

"No. There's someone else I need to find more. I just don't know how willing he is to be found though." She knew Lance wouldn't understand.

His face seemed even more confused. "Do you always talk in riddles?"

"Don't you know Lance?" she asked, linking an arm through his.

"What?" he asked, looking at her.

Her eyes were wide with an honesty that had emerged from dilemma.

"Oh... that I'm playing a game."

-§-

The light was dwindling in Rome. It was the evening of the day before they kicked off their tour. Nothing was left to be done for it except rest, yet he could not. Instead he sat up here, on the roof, and pondered, brooded, so many questions with no answers. Answers were elusive as were many things in this life.

He looked down... it was a steep drop. The particles constituted a crowd of girls, a blur of faces that meant nothing to him. Their devotion he did not understand. He knew none of them, yet they loved 'N Sync, professing that in every breath. He had to smile, though sadly for it was all he could accomplish. He'd never understand women, not one of them. He loved them just the same. Their devotion he rode on... He'd try not to take advantage; just to make them smile.

He took a deep breath in Italy's rich, sweet air. Perched on a ledge he was, hands folded, looking out over the unmasked beauty of this Roman city. It was beautiful under a sun poised to set. He wished everything could be so beautiful. His charming self had, for the moment, temporarily disappeared in the bleak gaze that befit him now. He had no purpose. He had never had one, yet now he felt more empty than ever before.

Lately, the hairs on the back of his neck had stood up more often. It meant something, he knew it did, he was sure and he had a good idea of what. But he didn't know if he was right; if his actions were sanctioned by anyone but him. Meddling... that he tried to stay away from, but circumstances called from time to time and he would answer. Now was one of those times. His intuition had woven a loosed rope and he was doing all he could do to right the wrongs of others. He'd be Superman and their fairy godmother; save the world in a less selfish pattern. But who would right his wrongs if he was mistaken? Who would forgive him if they needed no help? Surely there'd be judgement on his soul; judgement for his mistakes.

He gritted his teeth, the peace and solidarity of the moment ruined for just a moment by the presence of anger, in shades of orange-red, the sun cast in his eyes And he asked those who would judge him a question: what good was he if he could not even attempt to save his friends?

His mind was already made up.

Save them he would.

-§-

Lance was tempted to swear. He was very tempted indeed. Twenty-one years of Christian morals down the drain. Well... not quite. But why hadn't Joey told anyone where he was going, because he certainly was no where to be found. The hotel had paged the 'N Sync member to no avail. He was just no where to be found.

And Lance had a girl in tow. She'd been right there beside him every step of the way and he was sure she was getting as fed up as he was... close at least.

But no where could she fathom the confusion turned anger he felt towards Joe. It was... a betrayal of sorts; of loyalty; of trust. Jan... it was simple... she was not his to pluck. Lance had thought Joey understood that. JC hadn't been talking much lately... but he saw his actions... frustrated, like Lance was now. And Lance did not pretend not to know who JC called every other night... He shouldn't have been so oblivious as to what went on.

He was still angry... rushed. He wanted to know if Joey knew what he was doing... and he aimed to find out.

"Come on," Jan pulled on his sleeve.

"What?" he was slightly disoriented. He'd been concentrating too hard to suddenly be pulled out.

"We haven't tried those stairs yet." She was pointing to lone steps that led upwards.

And he couldn't get over the sight. He shook his head. He couldn't define what had caught his eye. Well, whatever it was, what she had said was true. They hadn't tried them yet. He'd have remembered those pearly steps that gleamed even in the dim hallway. He could only guess them to be polished marble, yet they did not have the texture of marble. Strange...

But Jan didn't notice his reaction as she pulled him along. He allowed himself to be led. He acknowleged that he had been quiet, but he could not expect much more from this anger. Anger... had never been a simple thing, but the guys knew how calm... and uncalm he could be. He wasn't one to burst... he was one to simmer. And simmering he was.

His sense of loyalty was offended and a badge of honor had been torn, but only in his mind. Posessed he was by a single-mindedness, blind-sided by his faith, he moved in a rage that could only be defined by someone such as he: silent, focused, and willing himself to believe a better truth than the one he did. Joe had to know... Jan was not his to try for yet- loyalty to a friend should tell him that. To brothers and friends, loyalty should be a strong force.

That Joe was a better man than presumed was not the question. Was Joe a better friend; a better brother? Lance would give him the benefit of the doubt, tarnished as it may be. Confusion wept. Joe, come clean. And that was his plea.

-§-

"Joe!"

It was a high-strung female voice. And his head spun around.

"Jan?"

"Whatcha doing up here, stranger?" she approached him with her best country voice. She sped up to hug him and he got up from the ledge to embrace her. "It's good to see someone who supports me. I still can't believe I'm here." It was more of a whisper now, made only for Joey’s ears.

"Believe it." And he figured out that she was oblivious, for her back was to Lance and he'd opened his eyes to stare straight into a pair that were not without a flickering flame- liquid, green. Any relief or calm had been violated silently... by the confusion Joe saw, paired with an unmistakable question. Joe just didn't know what it was.

"Whoa, it's spectacular up here." Jan was admiring the same sky he had. She walked out to the ledge that Joey had sat on previously. "I think I can see all of Rome... it's beautiful at this time of day."

Joey was distracted by Jan. He turned his head and squinted into the setting sun. "Look down," he intoned.

She did as he asked. They both could hear her breath catch. "It's gotten larger." None of them could deny they knew what she was talking about... the crowd. Lance treaded carefully over to the edge to see for himself. A red glint caught his outline as he glanced down. They could not see him... but he could see them.

"So this is where you've been hiding yourself." Lance spoke directly to Joey.

"Yea." Simple. He didn't know what to say to the look in Lance's eyes. "Are you alright?" He was concerned.

"Oh I'm swell." But he still had that look in his eye. "Thanks for not telling anyone where you were going." Joey did not miss the sarcasm in Lance's voice.

"You're welcome." He did not let it go without his own retort. Something told Joey it was helpless to ask again if Lance was all right. But he asked anyway. "Are you alright?

"I told you, I'm swell."

Joey gritted his teeth. Lance wasn't answering. There was something wrong.

"Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?" Lance demanded.

"I wasn't planning to be up here long, so I didn't think anyone would miss me. In fact, I think it's time for me to leave."

Lance stopped him, voice even. "Joe, we have nothing to do, no where to be."

"I promised Mom I'd call her at six forty-five."

"That's an excuse."

And Joey ignored it. "Well you and Jan can stay up here and watch the sun fully set. It's beautiful. Rome's beautiful."

"Joey, we need to talk."

"Oh, Jan. What'd you do with your bags?" He was talking to the solitary figure leaning over the side, her figure wrapped in orange.

The question was directed at Jan, but Jan did not answer. She didn't even get the chance to. "I took them from her and had a porter put them in your room." Lance's jaw had become increasingly tense as Joey had ignored him.

"Well, that was nice of you. Thanks Lance." His voice was flippant.

"Joey, we need to talk."

"We are talking." Joey did not like the way Lance spoke. He did not like the way Lance stood. He did not like the look in Lance's eyes. Joey didn't like Lance very much at this moment

"Not here."

"Well, I am going down to my room. You're free to follow me if you'd like."

"Well, I..."

Joey cut Lance off. "Hey Jan. I'm going down now. Are you going to stay here? Dinner's at seven."

She swung her hair around, a glow to her face, but her featrues skewed. "What time is it now, Joe?"

He held up his arms. "Before seven... I'm watchless."

"Six-thirty," a voice cut in, deep, bass, hurried.

"Perfect." Her voice was curt, seemingly oblivious to anything but her own problems. "I'll have time to shower before dinner." And Jan had already begun walking away.

"Perfect," muttered Lance to her unwelcome company in discussing matters of the heart and soul. It really wasn't her fault...

Joey looked at him wryly. "Just swell, huh?"

-§-

The twenty-third floor was just below the twenty-fourth and eight below the thirty-second, the highest floor and above it, the roof. They weren't about to walk six floors of stairs to Joey's room. Elevators were wonderful contraptions.

"I hope you don't mind, Joe. It was just... a long trip." Her words had double meaning and reference to a shower. The elevator was opulent, just as the rest of the hotel, and spacious, grand.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured her. "I took a shower this morning, anyway."

"Alright... Where do I put my stuff?" Jan inquired. It was a safe topic for her.

"The suite's pretty big... anywhere. Doesn't matter." Joey wasn't picky... he was just messy.

A grumble came from the corner of the elevator. Joey wasn't stupid. Lance was not pleased... not pleased at all. So Joey wasn't pleased.

"What is wrong for the third time?! Am I poison all of a sudden? What? Enlighten me. I have no clue what you are so disgusted with."

"Calm down. Just remember your loyalty to your friends." How ironic the words from Lance's mouth to Joey's ears.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joey was indignant and not very calm at all.

Pointed silence. No real answer existed in this air. No real circumstance bred it for an answer. Yet he'd not keep silent.

Lance cut a sly glance to Jan. "Whose girl is she?" It was a bold move, one that hadn't gone unnoticed by any passenger of the elevator.

Jan's mouth dropped for a full second, then snapped back into place, her mouth a grim line. "My own, Lance dear." Her stance had taken the offensive in two seconds flat. Joey couldn't blame her.

Lance paled. Why was it now he chose to back down from his challenge? "I'm sorry Jan," he said quickly. "I didn't mean any offense. I... I didn't mean it that way. You misunderstood." His intentions had gone awry as soon as he opened his mouth. How he wished he could back the words... or not have her standing here.

"Then what did you mean?" Her answer sliced the tentative air and Lance's bold exterior.

"I... I..."

Joey had to admit it was fun to watch Lance in front of a woman's tirade. Insulting men he could take. Women were another story entirely. And Joey admired Lance's steadfast values. Joey was amused. Lance had too much respect for the other sex and now he floundered.

"Who's girl am I?" Jan's eyes narrowed.

Joey had never seen Lance look more uncomfortable than he did now. "Ugh...."

And all at once Joey hated elevators. The doors had slid open much too fast. Lance couldn't have escaped more quickly. "Ask Joey." Fleeting words to her as he ran away. A bleak line set upon Joey's face. Lance was one-third coward.

Jan was not finished as she quickly turned on Joey. "Whose girl am I?" she demanded.

There was a slight pause as if he was pondering the question... or his answer. Was now the time to push against the stocks? Yes.

"You know who," he said quietly... calmly... without mocking.

"No, apparently I don't because I didn't know I belonged to anybody..."

"You're JC's..."

Jan's mouth was wide open. "Just who do you think you are, telling me that I belong to JC, let alone anyone but..."

"And JC is yours." It was on the same breath that he pronounced it.

Stopped.

Speechless.

There could not have been any reply, just shock.

And that changed it all; a two-way tie and just what she had always wanted. She had only one regret: that JC's lips hadn't formed the words her heart had longed to hear. She wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth.

-§-

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

The room was stormed. JC had walked in with a rigid form that could not easily be mistaked for anything but anger. To say he didn't look happy would be an understatement. He was positively frightening.

The plate of lasagna in front of Joey was momentarily forgotten. As were the two other guys sitting around the table eating dinner. This dining room didn't seem all that big anymore.

"What?" Joey asked, not sure, but feeling out what JC was saying.

"Do you think I'm blind and stupid?"

Was that a literal question? "JC, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, you're not stupid. The girl traipsing around the hallways. The one staying in your room. Jan!" He could not miss the wrath in JC's eyes.

Joey gave him a look of knowing. "Well, in that case, then yes. I do think you are blind and stupid. However, I did think you would notice. I just didn't think you'd care."

Jc was taken back. "I... I don't care," he sputtered.

Joey smiled at him and picked up his fork. He patted JC's shoulder. "Sure ya don't. Sure." And he was prepared to ignore JC. Lasagna in its home country did not deserve to be forgotten.

And JC exploded. "I don't! She's a..."

"I will thank you to stop assasinating my character in front of everyone in this dining room. You do not need to air your dirty laundry out here."

No one was more surprised than JC at the voice that had come from behind him. JC's neck turned so fast, Joey wondered if it had snapped.

And there was Jan, her face red, visibly angry and embarrassed. "Jan!" His voice lost its momentum.

"Well, hello, JC. Are you finished offending me?" She was snippy and she had every reason to be.

"I... I..."

"I... Stuttering problem? That seems to be common today." Sarcasm laced through her voice like silk.

"I..." And his voice became angry once again as he recognized she was mocking him. "I don't need to take this from you."

"And I don't need to take this from you. What the hell have I done?"

"What the hell?!"

"Guys!" A deep voice Jan knew well hissed. No one had noticed Lance walk in after Jan. "Sit down. You're making a scene."

"I don't give two shits," retorted JC and proceeded to ignore him, turning his focus back to Jan.

But Lance had been igmored one too many times today. "Well, I... and everybody at that table does. So either shut up and sit down or go somewhere else."

JC looked around the table and saw that he wasn't kidding. He kissed his teeth. "Fine, I'm outta here." So irrational was he that he couldn't even keep a civil tongue or stand be in the same room with her. So irrational was he that he did not even see how much it hurt her and her proud eyes that tried to keep her dignity. Joey's heart went out to her and the callous bastard who'd just left the room, walked away without a second glance.

All eyes turned to Jan, expecting her to walk out, but she surprised them all. She slid down into a seat at the table beside Justin. Joey almost cheered. "You're not going to let him ruin your appetite, are you?"

She looked up to him, a sad smile graced her face. "Of course not."

But he could hear her lying. She already had.

-§-

The breeze whipped his hair around, and brushed his skin with icy arms and fingers that gripped the ledge of the roof. It had gotten significantly colder in the night, temperatures had dropped to a cool sixty degrees on such a warm day. No more light- he could see none. The sun had set today at seven fifteen. But the sun in his heart had set a long time ago. He could hardly remember now. But he did remember it hadn't always been this way. He did remember a better day when he wasn't such a cynic...

Of women... That's what Lacey had taught him. She'd taught him that women weren't always as they seemed in the beginning. They could change, move, become nightmares encased by a smile once loved. And they could haunt you forever. Lacey's coy image was vivid in his mind, a picture of the 'perfect' woman- beautiful, gracious, decieving. He wanted to yank her down and crumble her in the palm of his fist. Yet she was gone. He'd banished her from every part of him. Or so he thought.

In truth, she still lived in his mind, his subconcious, for now he was wary of any woman. He was wary of any female that showed interest in him. He was wary of any female that seemed perfect to him. He was wary of Jan. He'd been the victim once. He'd not be it again. But he did not realize he was forcing Jan to be the victim. If he'd understood that, he never would have done anything he had, taken the lengths to speak as he did, pushed the the wire, till it stood in between. He didn't know it, but he'd caged the dove. And he was so blind, he thought it was Lacey in disguise. 'Don't judge a book by its cover,' he'd learned, for Lacey was beautiful, perfect in every way that could be seen by the eye, but inside lived the heart of Medusa. He'd made one mistake though, one err in his ways. Every book with a cover that resembled Lacey's was cast away for naught. And Jan was a victim before she had even said a word.

Footsteps.

He could hear them

coming

towards

him.

They were slow and paced, deliberately so maybe. He thought he heard a heartbeat, but it was only the wind. He had donned a new shirt, with longer sleeves, sea geen. He stared out into the lights of Rome and the ligth ofthe moon. It'd been a long time since he'd just sat and watched, alone in the open air. He couldn't have stayed inside tonight if he'd wanted to. Strangely, as spacious as the hotel was, he felt trapped, almost claustrophoic, caged into four walls. There was nothing like the open air.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" he said to the person behind him. He felt oddly better out here, as if the air had cleared away his thoughts. They had been overpowering the last few days. Nothing was right and he didn't seem to be able to fix them, no matter what he did.

"Yea. It is."

And he couldn't believe it. "You!" He turned around quickly. His heartstrings were tugged unwillingly.

"Me..." Her voice sounded light and unknowing. That furthered his disgust for her act.

"What are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes.

Her pretty face looked devastated and the moonlight cast bluish tones on her hair. It wasn't right that she was so so beautiful yet so full of deceit. Life played its little tricks well. She played her little tricks well.

"It's a beautiful night. You said so yourself. I just came out here to enjoy it."

And he laughed, a crazy laugh, more for her benefit than his. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Why would I come out here otherwise?" She was confused and offended, her body having shrunk from its former stance.

"Alright, who told you I was up here?" Who had he told that he was up here? Someone... someone must have seen him go up.

"No one. I just came up here to enjoy the night."

"Sure ya did." He smiled at her. She wasn't fooling him even a little with her downtrodden face. Lacey made that face to get her way and JC wasn't falling for it. Not this time around.

"Look, I can leave if you'd like me to leave. That's all you had to say. Nothing more."

She was turning away, her head still down. On impulse, he grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him.

"Sugar, don't go anywhere on account of me. Don't fret, it might muss your hair. You should already know that I don't play your little game like that. I'm not a pawn to be fiddled with."

It was getting dangerous, her face just inches from his. She bit her lip. His jaw tightened as his eyes automatically looked down. And he couldn't help himself, if that was the way she wanted to play... He'd defeat her, win in the end and she'd learn... she'd learn she'd met her match in JC Chasez.

He grabbed her other arm and pulled her to him with such force that she couldn't have known what was happening. In the next instant, his lips smashed onto hers... hungry and ready to devour. But he didn't want to feel the way he did. He didn't want to feel that tingling sensation inside his chest, in his hands, on his lips, running like current through his body. He didn't want her to know... he was attracted to a beautiful and selfish bitch. Not again.

Her arms suddenly pushed against his chest with such force that it tore their kiss apart. He opened his eyes. He'd closed them as their lips had touched and now he saw her, standing there, clutching her cardigan and looking at him through wide, confused, lost eyes, even more desolate than when he'd begun talking to her.

"Wha... what was that for?" Her voice too was broken.

He had to smile. It was his belief that triumph was near. "Oh darling you know you liked it. You know you wanted it. You've been begging for it with all your underhanded flirting." His voice unexpectedly turned from silky to rough, as though he was now firing the words at her. "You know you want it. Well now I'm right here, ready to make your wishes come true tonight." It was irrational. He was acting irrational and he knew it, but he no longer cared. She was getting to him and he was furious. "Come get me! Take off the sheep's clothing! You don't need to wear it because I can see the wolf." He took a step towards. "I could see it all along with your pretty pouty lips, those innocent eyes, your porcelain skin. It written into every corner of that beautiful face of yours and every strand of that silky hair. Well no more! I refuse to play the fool! You can have me, but on my terms, my rules. You play my way, or you're out." He smiled devilishly. "So come on, I'm all yours tonight, sugar."

And he thought he saw a tear drop down her cheek and slide into his soul, his heart. It wasn't supposed to be this way! He wasn't supposed to feel like the bad guy. It was her. But take away the fact that tears spilled down her cheeks in succession. He couldn't take her fallen face and chalk it up something other than him; anything other than him.

And he felt the anger rise up and his voice breathed fire. "Why are you crying?"

He waited for an answer. He got none but more silent tears. "Why are you crying?! Damn you, Lacey. You know I can't stand to see a girl cry..."

And it was unexpected. "My name is not Lacey." But she said it as if she was disgusted.

JC just raised his eyebrows and placed his hand over his mouth with sarcasm. "Oh... my bad. I slipped." His smile became cocky as he took his hand away. "Sorry 'Jan'. Happy?" He stepped closer to her tear-stained face, still beautiful even though... "It's always a damned game to you! Isn't it?" He looked at her face, still wet with tears that were coming steadily now. "Isn't it?!" He screamed.

"No!" It was an anguished cry that had escaped her lips.

"No? No? Then what is this, damn you? If it isn't a game then why is my heart pounding whenever you say a word; whenever you look at me? Why?" He grabbed her shoulders. "I want answers because this isn't making any sense to me! I don't want this, I didn't ask for this... Why am I electrified by just your touch... Why... Why don't I have a choice in this?!" It was his evidence that she was playing games and he was just waiting for her to confirm it. Lacey had never given him a choice, but to love her. Jan was not waiting either.

"I don't know!" she screamed pitifully, still being gripped by him.

He suddenly let her go and she staggered back, hugging herself in the cold wind that blew her hair back. She looked so lost... He must remember the wolf...

"You don't know? Well I do. You are all the same, all with the same objective: to make me want you. You smile, you flirt, you laugh, you touch. Well, I've already played that game sweetheart and been duped. Well, she taught me... she taught me about women; about women like you." A smile crossed his face; a crazy smile and he raised his hand tenderly to tuck an unruly strand of hair behind her ear and stroke her cheek. "So beautiful, so perfect... yet you're nothing of what you seem are you? Nothing."

And the look in his eyes... "JC, you're scaring me. Don't do this. I am not her..."

"Shut up! Of course you wouldn't want me to do this. Things not looking your way, sweet pea? That's what I used to call her you know. Sweet pea. Just like you."

He was crazed... "Don't call me that. I'm not her. I'm..." Her words were lost, drowned and smothered in his sea.

"Do you know what she did? Do you?! She used me... like some piece of meat. Oh she just came prancing up one day and I was so naive... she could have said anything, and I would just have accepted it. She was gorgeous... just like you and at first, she seemed... so ..." He shook his head. "At first she was funny, she laughed at all my jokes, even the stupid ones. At first she smiled at me like I was the only one who mattered to her when she was in her own little world. At first she held my hand, casually, and at other times like she never wanted to let it go... she put her arm around me and pulled me in for a hug, kiss, whatever and made it seem to me like I belonged there. And her eyes... Oh God, I thought it was me I saw in them. Oh, she was there... she made a point of it... she'd cheer me up when I was down, when I was worried... she'd try to make me smile... and make me feel like I wanted, no needed her... and as soon as as I needed her, she trashed me. As soon as she had me wrapped around her little finger, she took advantage, because she knew she could." He teeth clenched. "It was hard to admit back then, but this is now and I'm not so weak anymore. I am not weak! She taught me well, don't you think? Never to trust girls like her of which you Jan, are a perfect example." All through, his face had been red, his voice disgusted. He thought he had her all figured out. He moved even closer to her so she could feel his breath upon her face. "So what's your game?" His voice became iron.

She shook her head. "You don't know me. You know nothing about me."

"Oh," he laughed. "I know you well enough all right. I had close encounters of your kind, so what's your game?"

"There is none..."

"There has to be!" The rage in him now was unbelievable.

"There isn't!"

"You're lying! You're just like her! Just like..."

"I swear, I'm not. I..."

He grabbed her tightly arms. "Then why do you make me feel this way?! Why do you make me want to hold your hand..." He abruptly let go of her, though he did not move. His eyes... "Why do you make me want to hear your voice? Why do you..." But he didn't have to say a word. The look in his eyes would have been enough for her. Any fool could see that he was crumbling.

"I care... I...."

"Then stop, if you ever cared in the least. It's not real and I... Please... I can't let you lead me around anymore. Because I'll begin to care about you and... Please!"

"I'm not leading you anywhere, JC..."

"No!" In one swift movement, he covered his ears. It was the only thing he could think of to drown out the sound of her syrupy voice, threatening his every accusation. "I can't hear you. I can't listen... I can't..."

And he felt, her warms hands come to cup his and pick them off his ears. He struggled with her like a little child. Funny how he had a way of knowing, at every move, how to crawl into her heart.

"No, Jan!" he shouted. "I can't!"

She would not give up, just slightly shaking her head from side to side before continuing.

"Jan stop! I can't listen..."

"Why not?" she shouted, for the first time raising her voice to him, loud and full of an authority he had not known she possessed. He was breaking... "Why JC, why? What have I done? You won't even give me a chance, much less listen to me. Why?!"

"Because." His voice was barely more than a whisper and he was breathing heavily, as if catching his breath.

"Because of what?!" she demanded.

"Because... after awhile... I might believe you. And I can't... you're her... You do everything like her... You flirt with me. You smile at me. You... You make me want to smile back at you! And I can't see anything but her! I can't see you do anything and not remember that she did it too! I can't.... Jan, I can't..."

"Why? Is there some unspoken rule written here that I've never read? Why are you letting her run your life? Why are you putting her on a pedestal?"

That was the last thing he expected to hear. "What?! I am not..." His voice was indignant.

"Yes you are! You're doing it even as you deny it and I want to know why."

"No, you're wrong. I couldn't possibly..."

"Yes, JC. You could. Lacey's a bitch. We've already established that. But she's a bitch that I can't compete with in your mind. She was the end-all, wasnt't she? She took away your ability to be happy."

"I..."

"Oh, JC, you've said quite enough. I know what happened. She took you... she took you and closed you off; blinded you to everything, but her."

"Jan..."

"You know JC? I don't know if she knew it or not, but Lacey never lost you..."

"I broke up with her. I don't want to see her face anywhere near..."

"She never lost you JC, because you need her. She still has you... wrapped around her little finger. And you cater to it with your blindness, because you can't see what's right in front of you. It's ironic... the bitch gets the guy, while the one who never meant any harm eats shit. Or is that the way the story goes?" Jan was red in the face.

His heart was beating at an alarming rate. She couldn't be right... She couldn't. He didn't want.... he didn't want to face the doubts... the ones he'd been having all along. He couldn't be wrong. Not again. Not after all he'd put her through... He couldn't face the fact that he was cracking.

"But everything you do... it's just like her."

"Stop comparing me to her! She is not me and I am not her, nor do I ever want to be. Do you understand? Look beyond, JC. I am so much more than just a face. She's not gone, is she? You don't want to see her face, right? Well, JC I don't think I'm wrong in saying that you're a fucking liar!"

His mind was racing as fast as his heart not, scrambling and jumbling, twisting and stretching to unknown places and others he did not want to go, memories he did not want to face. It was hurting... "Stop!"

"Why? You weren't that merciful. No matter what I did or said, you made it a crime. In every little gesture or word I said, you found a mistake, something that she'd down, something that she'd said. What pedestal, you ask? I never stood a chance did I? No girl will because that whole in your heart is going to stay a wound. You won't let anyone near it, to mend it. I guess that was your souvenir. Where is she, JC? Where's Lacey? I want to shake her hand because she sure did a fine number on you. Maybe I should shake your hand because she's still up there." She paused for just a moment. "Just get this straight Chasez. Don't you ever presume to know anything about me, because I can tell you now, you're wrong. I am nothing like her; nothing., and if she is eating away at your heart, I don't want any part of it. You're a coward, JC, a damned coward that had everybody but yourself fooled. You know deep down that you can't fight her and you never will. You're so blind that you want to believe the worst of me without even looking for yourself. All I wanted to do was make you laugh."

"Stop! No, you're just like her..." Tears were running down his face. Had he been really misjudged her; had he really been that unfair? He was fighting hard in a lost battle. He'd already lost, but the thread of hope... Why did he believe anyway?

"You prick." She shook her head. Her voice was sad. "I guess that is the way the story goes."

She turned sharply on her heel, so that JC did not even have a chance to lunge after her and keep her in place. His mind was beyond comprehensible. Her words had overwhelmed him with a wave of memories, a tide of words, a sea of smiles. He couldn't have pegged her wrong. Had he really wanted to believe the worst of her? Wasn't she.....? She was leaving.

He lost it.

He lost it all.

And she was right.

Back to the basics and he whispered something he should have whispered a long time ago. "Jan." He swallowed to wet his dry throat and clear his voice. Emotions ran through him all at once. It was no easier for him to understand. "Jan! Jan... no wait." He ran. He threw heed into the wind. He realized... he couldn't lose her. He caught her and pulled her back to his chest, burying his face into her hair, his tears wetting the strands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jan. You were right. You were right about everything. I am a coward... She isn't... she isn't gone. I just didn't want to believe..."

"You didn't want to believe what?" she asked, but strangely, it wasn't as bitter as he would have expected. His voice was quiet and she could hear him mumble something as he hung his head. "Speak up," she encouraged, leaning towards him.

He lifted his head to hers and stared, the intense blue of his eyes penetrating the dark exterior of her brown ones. She sucked in her breath as if surprised. He could hear it. And at that moment, he'd been just as surprised. He remembered Lacey's eyes... they had been green... He looked down, ashamed. "I didn't want to believe that someone could care for me... without wanting something. I wanted to believe that you were just like her. I wanted to be right, just once. I didn't want... to get hurt again... I was so... angry that she played me for the fool. I couldn't let that happen again, don't you see? I couldn't let you play me for fool too. I had to pick you apart before you could get to me. I got so mad when I realized... you already had."

It was his confession and explanation bundled into one. He did not realize her blush until he stopped to catch his breath and stood up. "But will you let me stay?"

He drew up an eyebrow. "What? Stay where?"

She took a hesitant step towards him, eyeing his movements all the while. When he didn't step back, she moved her head towards his head and touched his temple. "Here. But the true me, not some version that you made up."

He swallowed. For so long he'd fought against... "Yes." And there was no turning back. His answer was conclusive; his word. He'd never back go on it and he'd never second guess himself. Everyone deserved a second chance... even him. "Stay."

She took her hand away, staring up at him with clear eyes, stepping back into the wind. "Ok."

A merciful angel had fallen to Earth and Lucifer had laughed. He'd mend her broken wings with arms and fingers that held her close... now. As surely as he'd said, he leaned forward and embraced her figure. It was a good sign. He breathed a sigh of relief. She did not resist. She gave him a second chance... and until now he hadn't realized that it was him that needed one.

-§-

A gold-plated cherub stood on the counter of the desk. It told them make a wish, but there was no secret to be kept, no wish to hold in so it would come true. They instead, talked to each other.

"Look, I'm sorry I misunderstood, but I see now..."

The brunette held up a hand to the blond standing in front of him. "It's already forgotten Lance..." One friend down... one to go.

-§-