For JC's Love

Disclaimer: This is a gay love story (gosh, that sounds so corny!) and if you're not interested, buzz off! All of the events described below are fictional and have never occurred in real life. I would also like to state that there is no implication that JC of N'Sync is gay in anyway -- no matter how much a lot of people out there wish. Furthermore, I believe that you would like to know that there is NO SEX in this story. Rather, I wish to study how love can be so demanding and different if you love a celebrity. By the way, almost all the opinions in this story originate from me, and while I stand by them, I do not even encourage you to accept them. Everyone has their own opinions about sex and all that. Whatever you believe, do practice safe sex. Comments are welcome at Benj_thall@hotmail.com. By the way, thanks Mano for your support. This is dedicated to you and the real Allie out there.

For JC's Love

It was a beautiful morning that day, the wind blowing steadily, but I had to admit that it was bloody cold. Good weather, then, partly, for setting up a stall for the Tekapo Fair. The fair's this thing that we hold annually near Lake Tekapo in New Zealand. If you've never seen the lake, then you've missed one of the best sights in the world. It's like a blue sapphire, gleaming in the sunlight. Nearby are the hills where we normally hold the Fair.

At the Fair, you can buy whatever the stall keepers are selling. Usually, it's an agricultural product, like smoked ham, honey, or butter, but, sometimes, there's things like hand-made shawls, or souvenirs like bead necklaces, and, once, a feather token by the Maori. Me, I sell my paintings. I'm quite OK at painting but most of it is still life, normally, landscapes. You never run out of those here in New Zealand. There's the beach, the cliffs overlooking Milford Sound in Queenstown, the geysers in Rotorua, and more. That's one reason why I moved here.

I was born in Malaysia, where the weather is both hot and humid. Pleasant enough but I've always preferred cold. It's still my home but . . . . it's different in a way. Let me describe myself. I'm tall for an Asian, around 6', about 175 lbs., with dark brown hair, that's kind of long but not past my shoulders, and brown eyes as well. My English is fairly excellent, though most Westerners always believe that I can barely grasp the intricacies of that language.

While toting my paintings, I ran across some people I knew from earlier Fairs. I nodded at some, and smiled at others, but I noticed that many faces from the past weren't here. I wondered if it was b'cos of a lack of interest in the Fair or if they had just moved on. Very few attendees of the Fair are young. Only a handful, including me, are below 30 years of age. Me, I'm 22 years old, but that's enough to condemn me as an old-timer here where kids -- as young as 16 -- show up to sell stuff. As I set up my stall, I noticed that old Eli's stall had been replaced. A bunch of kids ran it, the tables piled with CDs and cassettes. One of them was setting up a radio, which began to churn out an infernal racket.

I glared at the punks. That's what they were to me. I do listen to modern music but the kids these days had an annoying tendency to listen to garbled screeching, and then, term it as music. I prefer more mellow tunes like Lisa Loeb, Jann Arden, Celine Dion, Shania Twain, and even Alanis Morissette (though she's loud, at least her music SOUNDS like music).

"They're a pain, aren't they?"

I turned around, and grinned. "Quite. But they weren't as bad as you used to be, Shonsea!"

Shonsea grimaced, and stuck her tongue out. "Ha ha, very funny," she said, in the tone of a long suffering friend.

"Admit it! You were like them . . . once."

"Yeah, a long time ago!" she retorted.

I simply smiled at her. She was a striking sight, standing there, clad in the hide clothing that she loved to wear so much. As usual, Shonsea had threaded feather into her long auburn hair, and right then, she looked like nothing more than an Indian squaw, going into battle. Of course, the native American squaws never did do battle but it was the closest analogy I could think of.

I saw her glance around. "Eli and Jeb are gone, you know," she commented.

"They are?" I looked around for Jeb's stall, the only one that sold the hand-carved toys that Jeb made himself. But, the Fair ground was clear of the rickety old wagon from which he usually operated.

"Do you know where they are?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Zerah mentioned that Eli finally decided to go to his children's house in Auckland somewhere. As for Jeb . . . I think he's sick or something."

"Sick? How do you know?"

"I talked with him yesterday. His lungs are acting up, filling with liquid again. He's going to the hospital in Wellington with his daughter."

"Hope he's all right . . ."

Shonsea looked at me, a peculiar light in her eyes. Then she shrugged, and continued to study the kids across me. Let me tell you a bit about Shonsea. She was born in a time too late, I guess, b'cos she's a born anarch, always never even trying to conform to society. Her parents are incredibly wealthy; they own this law firm in the States. They wanted their youngest daughter to follow in the footsteps of their family -- the whole family is filled with lawyers. Scary, ain't it? -- but the first thing she did, when she was 18, was to fly off to New Zealand, and live in the country, selling the feather tokens that she makes, and "playing around" -- as her father calls it -- with this restaurant.

What else can I say about her? She's her, I guess. Stubborn but compassionate, easily excited but serene in times of trouble. She's one of a kind, and very hard to find in this world. We met when I first came to NZ about three years ago. I saw her, and she saw me, and then it was instant friendship. We were kindred spirits, perhaps, from past life.

As I looked into the past at our friendship, Shonsea nudged me with her elbow, and moved to whisper in my ear. "Psst . . . Allie, see that guy over there? The one with the blond streaked hair? What do you think?"

I looked in the direction she was facing, and I caught a glimpse of the guy she had described. He looked around 18, tall, with broad shoulders, in a T-shirt and jeans. His hair was longish, brown but streaked with traces of gold. As I watched him, he saw the two of us staring at him, and began walking over.

"Uh oh . . . " Shon went.

"Damn right, uh oh," I muttered to her.

He was now close enough to scream at us but he walked close enough to sock me in the mouth, and for one moment there, I began to worry. He raised his hand, and offered it to me in a handshake.

"Hi, my name's Jeff. I'm new here. Are you guys new as well?" His voice was rich and low. Immediately, my mind began flashing warning signals. This guy was way too good-looking for my peace of mind. I have a tendency to get crushes on cute guys, and most of the objects of those crushes are just MAJOR jerks. Well, enough heartache instilled in me these signals. I knew if I let myself be carried away, this guy was HUGE trouble.

"Uh, Allie . . . Allie Wu." That's my reply, all I could say as he looked at me. I noticed that his eyes were a deep green, like emeralds.

"Shonsea, Shonsea Wilding, but you can call me Shon for short. Uh, we've been here for about two years now, I think. Allie sells paintings, and I sell feather tokens. Wanna see one? What do you sell? Oh wait, what am I saying?" she said, and slapped her forehead. "You sell CDs and cassettes, of course."

Jeff looked a little overwhelmed but I could see that he liked her. As for Shon . . . I looked at her from the corner of my eye. This guy must have a tremendous effect on her. Normally, Shon is almost unflappable but when she sees a guy she's really attracted to, her conversation just speeds up by about a zillion times. I gave her a "Stop being so weird" look, and, thank God, she caught it.

She laughed. "Sorry for rushing you but I don't talk to a lot of people 'cept Allie here and, as you can see, he's not much of a talker." I glared at her. Jeff laughed.

"Not much people to talk to? Why? A lady as pretty as you should have to beat off all the guys with a stick!" Shon blushed, and I rolled my eyes. Not even five minutes and he's already hitting on her. Well, as they say, two's company and three's a crowd . . .

I stuck my hand out to Jeff. "Nice to meet you, Jeff. Sorry but I gotta run, OK? See ya." Once we shook hands, I hightailed it out of there, and started setting up stall. Once in a while I glanced at Shon and Jeff. Man, they were really hitting it off. I have to admit, I was a little jealous. Shon really has a lot of admirers while I . . . well, the closest thing that I've ever had to a boyfriend was 6 years ago when I was still in Malaysia. I gotta confess. The furthest I've ever gone is necking, and I think I'm going to stay there awhile.

As I put my paintings on display, all I could think of was my celibacy. By choice, though. I mean, I hate to brag, but I do look good, if a bit confused at times. I guess I could have gone further but I'm a devout Christian. Not something most gay people are, I have to say. If you read the Bible real carefully, you can see that homosexual sex is a no-no but they didn't say anything about love. So, love's OK but sex isn't. It may be flawed but it was my perception on things, so I stick by it. That means I'll probably die a virgin. Oh well.

The day was slow. A few people looked around, and some actually bought something. I don't overcharge my paintings. The good ones usually go for about US$20 or so while the lousy ones can go for US$2 or so. It all depends. Shonsea had popped in once in a while and she couldn't stop giggling about Jeff. A wind was blowing by the time it was noon. The wind was cold, very cold, for all that it was the close of summer, and everybody was bundled up as much as possible. As I looked around, I noticed this kid staring at one of my paintings. I was content to let him stare but after a few minutes, during which he stared and stared, I got a little curious and tried to see which painting he was scrutinising so closely. As I craned my head, I finally saw what he was staring at. It was one that I had painted long ago, of the frozen lake a few winters back. I stared and stared. What the hell was he staring at? I glanced around. The kid was gone. I wonder, what was he looking at?

"Allie?"

I yelped and spun around. It was Gail. "Sorry for scaring you," she murmured, amusement in her voice.

"It's not funny, Gail. What if I had a weak heart? You could have scared me to death!"

She crossed her arms, and gazed at me. "You don't. End of story."

I scowled in mock anger. "Fine," I said, and rolled my eyes. "What is it, anyway?"

Gail pulled her fingers through her pepper-and-salt hair, and studied her fingers. "It's Shonsea. She's asking everybody to sing the winds again."

I groaned. Another of Shonsea's weird ideas. She got it from some old book that the Druids used to sing to the winds to ask for good weather, and managed to bully enough of the Fair-goers into doing it. So, whenever she wanted, she called most of us to sing to the winds. It wasn't that sucky an idea -- it actually attracted more of the customers but Shonsea had this inclination of picking some old songs that only a few knew. Me, mostly, since she usually ran the ideas through me first.

"Oh, God, not again! Gail, tell her I'm sick! Tell her I caught the flu! Tell her I got the plague! Anything!!" I pleaded. Gail grinned and shook her head. "Too late. She's coming this way."

"ALLIE WU!"

The shout was so loud that everybody stared. I looked around for a place to hide. Yikes! Nothing! She could run faster than me, and she's actually stronger, too. This may seem a little strange but the truth is that I'm incredibly shy, and I HATE singing in front of everybody. I looked around again. Aaagghhh! Trapped! I sighed and turned around.

"Shonsea."

She stared at me. "Ready?" she asked sweetly.

"I'll kill you. You do know that, don't you?"

"Oh, come on! It's just singing!"

"Fine! Then you do it!"

"You know you're a better singer. You're the best among us all."

"She's right, you know," Gail interjected.

"Traitor!" I muttered under my breath.

"Oh, just come, will ya, Allie? Please?

"All right, all right! As if I had a choice!"

Shonsea smiled, and literally dragged me to the Square. Already, there were a few people waiting. The Square's this place in the middle of the Fairground where we do most proclamations. It's nothing more than a square piece of ground, covered with whatever rugs that somebody brought, and marked with four poles, twined with ribbons. It's off limits except when we want to say something to everybody, or in this case, for singing to the winds.

I grumbled, and sat in the exact middle of the Square where somebody -- probably Shon -- had placed a large, red plush cushion. Gail folded herself next to me, and began polishing her flute. Nearby, Dan was cleaning his fiddle while Lian tuned her guitar. I looked around. There were people gathering around the Square already but it was hard to identify some of them since the sun was behind them. I saw Jeff, who winked at me, and grinned. I smiled back, but I think I let something of my disgruntlement show 'cos he actually stepped back a bit at my smile. I calmed down, and smiled again, without whatever was in that first one. He smiled uneasily back and I noticed, he kept at his current position.

"Allie?"

"Yeah?" I said, slightly startled. It was Shonsea.

"Are you OK?" she asked, concern in her voice. "If you aren't, we can always call this off . . ."

"Never mind. I'm fine. What's the song?"

"Chuaigh me na Rosann."

I groaned. I'd heard that song once, and it was damned complicated. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, the others have been training."

"And, why was I missing from these training sessions?" I asked, annoyed.

"C'mon, you don't need it. The first time I ran you through it, you were flawless!"

I was flattered. "Really?"

Shon grinned. She knew what I was thinking. "Later, OK, you peacock. The customers are waiting."

I shrugged.

She glanced at the others, nodded once, and then started blowing her flute. She was incredible, capturing the incredible poignancy of the song. I heard Gail, then Dan, then Lian joining in, and pretty soon, everyone was playing the song. It was still soft b'cos they didn't want to overwhelm my voice.

My heart was drumming in my chest. I felt as if everyone was staring at me, and to calm myself, I closed my eyes. I listened closely to the music, and when I heard my cue, I began singing. My voice is quite good but the thing is that I love to sing, to hear my voice perform something so delightful. If you get a star with a wonderful voice, even she or he would sound terrible if they hated to sing, or only went along with it. Others love to sing, like Shania Twain, Jann Arden, Celine Dion, and a few more, which is why most of their songs are so wonderful. Maybe that's why my voice sounded so good then.

"Chuaigh me na Rosann" is this song, Gaelic, I think, that is so incredibly wonderful that even though you don't understand the words, you can feel its poignancy, its sorrow, its gentle touch on your soul. It's beyond belief, and I gloried in the sound of my voice, singing that folk song. Maybe, we got the mood entirely wrong or something. but I liked the sad tone we kept at.

I opened my eyes half way through my performance, and I was happy to see that many of the others had been affected as well. Especially the customers. The women were teary-eyed, and the men, sorrowful. It may sound unbelievable but that song touches a chord in every person, and I had never seen one person who wasn't affected by it. Suddenly, my eyes were caught. It was the same boy who had been staring at my painting. He looked no older than eight (I couldn't tell since I'm lousy with ages) with curly blonde hair, and the widest blue eyes I had ever seen. He looked adorable. I realised he was holding to somebody's hand, a man, who stood before me, a few feet away. He was silhouetted by the sun so I couldn't really see anything from where I was, but I could see the glint in his eyes. All of a sudden, I shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. There was something about that man, something that was entirely dangerous. I bit my lip, and closed my eyes, and lost myself in the song.

"That was wonderful, Al!" Shonsea's eyes were bright, with tears and excitement. "How in the world did you pull it off?" She grabbed hold of me, and said to my face, "Don't you see, you boob, you raked them in! Why if you did this everyday . . ."

I pulled away. "You're crazy," I said laughingly, "if you think I'm going to sing myself to death for you."

She shrugged. "Think about it, Al. It might be lucrative."

"Thanks but no thanks. By the way, stop calling me Al. The name's Allie; you know how I HATE Al."

"Whatever. See ya."

I got off the cushion, brushing the lint off my slacks, and began walking towards the stall. "Wait, ALLLIIEEEE!!!"

I paused, and waited for a huffing Shonsea as she ran towards me. "What?"

"Are you coming for tonight?" she asked.

"What tonight? What's going on?"

"You, idiot! It's Game Night here with the Convocation! You mean, you haven't prepared or anything?"

I groaned, "NO." Game Night was this thing we had around here, a live action roleplaying thing we did. And with the Convocation, that would mean more players, Game Masters, and freebies for everyone, especially for the hosts. Damn, it only happened once every 3 years, and this time, the Convocation was HERE! If I missed those four nights . . .

Shonsea saw my agony, and piped up. "Look, if you're playing Alleyne, all you need is the long black feather robes, black feathers, a medallion, and a wig. You have the robe, right?"

I nodded slowly, unsure.

"Good. I can get you some feathers, and a wig. As for the medallion . . ." she hesitated, and then continued, "I think I can get one for you."

I threw my arms around her. "Oh, Shon, you ARE a lifesaver! Thank you thank you thank you!!!"

She grinned. "Of course. If I wasn't, you wouldn't have survived this long."

After closing up everything, I couldn't wait for night to fall. I took a quick bath, grabbed something to eat, and watched TV incessantly until nightfall. When it was 6 p.m., I took off everything and but on this robe I had. I made it years ago, with my best friend's help, stitching black feathers into the silky surface of the black velvet robe. It was supposed to be the costume of my character, Alleyne. She was supposed to be this evil sorceress whom I played with a wicked tongue, and a sharp sense of humour.

I was fidgeting when Shonsea arrived at my house. Perhaps, I should describe my house first though. It's somewhere near the Fairground, this large house built on the grass, surrounded by a low fence. There's this paved path that leads from the gate of the fence to my doorstep. The area around that path is simply garden, filled with various seasonal plants that could withstand the cold. Somewhere in the back is my greenhouse where I keep my delicate flowers. I have to confess. Shonsea was responsible for the garden and the greenhouse. See, I have a passion about flowers but I'm a totally inept gardener. So, Shonsea helped me by planting the flowers, and actually cultivating some flowers to withstand the cold. So, it was a profuse bloom of flowers in the front.

Anyway, when Shonsea rang the bell, I was damn excited. Until I saw her with THE kid. The one who had been standing in front of my stall. His eyes were red as if he had been crying.

"Shonsea," I glanced at the boy, "what's wrong? Who's the kid?"

She had a grim look on her face, something very un-Shonsea-like. There was a veritable scowl on her face. "You tell me! I found the kid wandering around outside your stall. I asked him 'bout his parent or his guardians, and he says he's lost. I tried to make him talk more but I couldn't get him to say more." Now, at least, I understood Shonsea's expression. She's a stickler for responsibility, and she was just pissed that somebody could have dumped the kid like that. I was getting annoyed, too, at whomever was responsible, but I was still curious.

"OK, but why is he here?"

She gave me a regretful look. I knew that look.

"No, no, no, Shin! I'm not ...'

"C'mon, the kid asked specifically for you! He wouldn't have gone with me 'cept that I said we were coming to you!" She grimaced. "So, here!"

I sighed. If the boy was that determined. "Fine."

"Now, I don't want to . . . . what did you say?"

"I said, fine."

She eyed me oddly, "And you're not arguing?"

"Look, if the boy really wants me to be with him, then fine!"

"But what about tonight?"

"Well, there are three more nights . . . so I guess I'll stay here with the boy. It's not safe taking him there anyway." Shon nodded, pursing her lips. "Just make sure, you get freebies for me, too. And, ask around for the boy's guardians. I saw this guy with him earlier. If anybody wants to get the boy, direct him here, will ya?"

She nodded again. She held my shoulder, and squeezed it. "You're big, darling, real big."

"Hey, I might be gaining a bit of weight but I'm not THAT fat, you know," I joked. She gave me a hug, and left, waving goodbye to me.

I looked down at the boy. He looked fairly fagged, and I grabbed him, carrying him gently to the sofa where I set him down.

Now, I'm not really that good with kids. I'm terribly impatient and very hot-tempered so I usually suck with children. Sure, I may think some are real adorable, but after a while, my temper's usually frayed, and I'll change my impression of a little angel into that of a little demon. But, with the kid, I didn't feel that same apprehension that he was really a toddler terrorist. I knelt by his side.

"What's your name kid? Are you hungry? Thirsty?" I asked him gently.

He was silent for a while, until I thought he wouldn't reply, when he hesitantly replied, "Jonathan. A bit of both."

I smiled at him, and ruffled those blond locks. "Sit down, OK. I'll get you something. Watch TV if you want. Cartoons are on Channel 5." I got up, and moved over to the kitchen. I rifled through the cabinets until I found some cookies and a bit of chocolate milk. Not that it's hard. My whole house if filled mostly with junk food anyway. I poured some of the milk into a glass, and dropped a few of the cookies into a plate. Taking both, I stepped out to the living room, and set both in front of the Jonathan.

He glanced up from the Simpsons, and shyly said, "Thanks." I smiled and ruffled his hair again. He grabbed a cookie, started munching, and turned his attention towards Bart trying to glue Homer's hand to his beer bottle. Ah, TV's a wonderful thing. The most effective child riveter.

Feeling a little hungry, I went into the kitchen, and made myself a sandwich. Taking small bites of it, I plopped down by Jonathan, and watched the cartoon. When it was over, Jonathan looked at me curiously. "How come you're wearing a dress?"

I laughed. "It's not a dress, Jonny. It's a robe. See, I was going to act and that's why I'm wearing this."

He nodded in understanding, and was silent except for his munching. "How come you know my name?

"What? Ahh, b'cos you told me."

"No, not Jonathan. Jonny!"

"Oh. It just came to me. I hope you don't mind me calling you Jonny," I asked him seriously. That's the key to kids, I guess: always treat them seriously.

He pondered for a moment. "Well, mostly my family calls me that, and my uncles, but, OK, you can."

I smiled at his seriousness. "Thank you. Jonny."

He smiled back at me, timidly.

"What's your name?"

"Allie."

"That's a funny name."

"Thanks," I said dryly, and ruffled his hair again.

Perhaps I should . . . Carefully, I asked, "Jonny, where is the man that was with you earlier? You know, the one who's hand you were holding when I was singing?"

His face grew miserable "That was Uncle Josh. I don't know. I just looked around and he was gone." Tears began welling in his eyes.

I pressed him to my side. "Don't cry, Jonny. Your Uncle Josh is probably as worried about you as you are about him. Don't worry, we'll find him."

He looked up at me. "I miss my mom." He pressed his face into my chest, and I stroked his hair.

"Don't cry, Jonny. Let me ask you, did you like my singing?"

He nodded, and wiped his eyes.

"Want me to sing something?"

He nodded again.

I started singing this song that I liked and which, I hoped, would cheer him up.

" C is the way we begin

And H is the next letter in

And I is the middle of the word

And K is part of the name of the bird

And E, we're getting near the end

C-H-I-C-K-E-N

That's the way we spell chic-ken!"

Jonny giggled at the absurd lyrics. I smiled and launched into the next verse.

"Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken

Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken

Lay an egg for me, chicken

To eat with my sausages and ba-ken (Bacon)

Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken

Oh, won't you lay an egg for me?"

Jonny burst out laughing. I grinned, and sang more songs. All were designed to tickle his fancy, and make him laugh. But after a while, I saw him nodding off.

"So, I'm that boring, eh?" I asked him.

"Not . . . you . . . I'm just . . . so . . . sleepy," and within minutes, he was asleep.

I cradled him against my body, and snuggled up to make my body as comfortable as possible. The house was cool enough, even with the radiator, to fall asleep. I stroked his hair, and sang a lullaby to him. Eventually, I stopped. His breathing was deep, and he made childish noises as he cuddled up against me. I turned off the TV, and turned on the stereo, both through remotes so as not to stir, and disturb the boy. I chose a selection of light, easy songs, and straight away, Enya's 'Marble Halls' filled the air. As I listened to her soft, sweet voice, tremulous and tender, I was struck by how light Jonny was. Oh, dear, to have a son like him . . . I sat up at that thought, or nearly sat up. I used to have maternal/paternal feelings before but this was different. I wanted a child so much . . . .

It was so comfortable, lying there, listening to the song, sighing as the music changed into Shania Twain's 'From This Moment On'.

" From this moment

Life has begun

From this moment

You are the one

Right beside you

Is where I belong

From this moment on ...."

That got me thinking. Is there actually somebody out there for me? I doubt it, though. Most guys wouldn't go into a relationship without the sex part, and I was committed to doing what I believed. But, then, I have the my friends' love, my family, and God, so that should be more than enough. Yet . . . I longed for someone to love me, to love me as much as I would love them . . . . Jonny stirred for a while, and then went back to sleep again. I smiled to myself, and began stroking that soft, silky hair. It was so fine . . . .

I must have nodded off, then, b'cos the next thing I knew I was awake, the house silent but for the gentle voice of Jann Arden.

" You give your hand to me

And, then, you say hello

And I can hardly speak

My heart is beating so

Oh, you will never know

The one who loves you so

'cos you don't know me . . ."

Jonny was still asleep, his body warm against mine. He murmured in his sleep, and was silent again. My hand, the one trapped under Jonny, was numb. Carefully, trying not to wake him up, I eased my hand, and, then, myself off the couch. The second my hand was free of Jonny's weight, it began tingling as blood started to flow again. I winced slightly at the pins-and-needles effect. I moved over to the kitchen, shaking my left arm from time to time.

I boiled some water, and made some tea. Jasmine tea. It's good for you, in a way, 'cos it's supposed to strengthen your cardiovascular system, or something. I like it 'cos of the taste. Pouring some into a teacup, I made my way over to the sofa where Jonny was still asleep. He looked like an angel as he lay there, those blond curls resting against his face, his lashes -- so long and so fine -- touching his cheek. His parents must be really good-looking to produce such a beautiful child. I watched him, sipping my tea.

There's something about kids that positively kills me. Like how they can focus on cartoons, or something, yet you can hardly ever get them to concentrate on their homework. I mean, they're so innocent and everything, thinking childish thoughts, the very epitome of childhood -- which is what they really are. While I mulled over this, Jonny was waking up. He blinked owlishly as he looked around, then yawned, and put a hand over his mouth to cover it.

"Finally woke up, huh, sleepyhead?" I told him, amusedly.

"Yeah. Um . . . Allie?"

"Yeah?" I looked at him, my lips pursed.

"I'm hungry . . . can I . . .?"

"Hungry? Again? You just ate?!" I said, incredulously.

"Please?" he said, and looked at me with those large blue eyes.

Alright, I have to say, I'm a sucker for cuteness. I couldn't resist his charm as he exerted it over me. "Fine, fine. What do you want?"

"Ummm . . . how 'bout some more cookies?" he asked hopefully.

I snorted. "No way, Jose. Too much cookies are bad for you. How 'bout a ham sandwich?"

"OK."

I shook my head, and went into the kitchen. Today, it just seems as if I was going into the kitchen all the time. Sheesh! I got a few slices of bread, stacked it together with some ham, pickles, and mayo, stuck it on a plate, and handed it to the kid. He fell upon it as if he was starving. I shook my head again. I had almost forgotten how much kids eat. The only time they got worse was at the ages of 12 to 16. I was fascinated, looking at how much he just stuffed in his mouth. I was awed. When he finally finished, there was a streak of mayo by the side of his mouth. I handed him some tissue, and motioned at his mouth. He looked at me uncertainly, before wiping it off.

I was washing when, suddenly, the doorbell rang. Quickly, I washed my hands, and ran for the door. Jonny looked up from this jigsaw puzzle I had dug up, craning his head to see who it was. I peered out through the peephole. It was a man. The moon was behind him -- full moon, too -- and I had turned down the lights slightly, so his features were obscured by shadows. But, he had the build of Jonny's Uncle Josh, so I unlocked the door, and opened it.

"Uh . . . a lady at the Fair told me that a little boy was here . . .?" His voice was deep but not too deep. Rich and timbreful, his words made me shiver. Again, I got that strange sensation of danger, stronger than before. And, I knew what it was. I had no doubt, then, that this guy was probably my dream man, good-looking and NOT a jerk, which made him doubly dangerous.

Overwhelmed as I was at that moment, I cobbled together what was left of my wits. "Yes, there is a kid here, but how do I know that you're a relative or guardian of some kind?"

He paused. "Uh . . . Ask Jonny. I think he'll recognise me."

I watched him for a moment then, turned around and called out, "Jonny, can you come out here for a while?"

I could see him as he got up from the floor, and slowly walk towards me. He barely took a look at the man in the doorway before he shrieked out, "UNCLE JOSH!!!", and ran into his uncle's arms. The guy swung him up, kissing him on the cheek, murmuring, "Where WERE you, Jonny? I was so worried . . . ."

I could only watch them, a smile playing on my lips as I saw the gentle way this Josh held Jonny in his arms, the way Jonny was hugging his uncle. I didn't want to break in on the happy moment but . . .

"Mr . . .?"

"Chasez. The name's Chasez." I could hear the grin in his voice, and almost see it, too.

"Mr Chasez, I don't mean to lecture you but your nephew could have been seriously lost, you know, if my friends hadn't found him." I could feel his eyes on me, and it was making me distinctly uneasy. "I just hope that you'll be more careful in the future . . ."

I could actually feel his gaze moving up and down, as he took in my attire. I felt my face flush. I must look an IDIOT in those bloody clothes! But I was grateful that he couldn't see my face in the dark. Hopefully, he didn't. "Actually, he's not really my nephew but I know his brother, you see. But, you're right. I should have been more careful. Thank you for pointing that out." He bent down to set Jonny on the ground, and knelt beside the boy. "Jonny, will you forgive me? Forgive me for not keeping a close watch on you?" His voice was more serious, and I knew he meant it. Inside, I applauded his actions. At least, he took the boy seriously. Most people these day don't really do that.

The boy considered before nodding his head. "Uncle Josh," he said softly, almost too soft for me to hear, "will you forgive me for running off without saying anything?" His "uncle" nodded, and kissed Jonny on his cheek. He stood, abruptly, in a smooth action. One moment, he was kneeling, the next, he was standing. I realised that he was taller than me, though, probably not more than an inch -- or two -- taller. "And, Mr . . ?"

I was startled when he did that, so I barely heard him. "No, misters here. Just call me Allie."

I saw him smile, then, and my heart ached with the warmth in that smile. "Allie, then. Thank you so much for taking care of Jonny for a while. I don't know how I can thank you enough . . ."

I grinned. "Actually, I should be thanking you. Jonny is delightful company, though, for a moment, I was scared that he would eat me out of my house," I said, and ruffled Jonny's hair. Again. For the 200th time, probably. Jonny stuck his tongue out at me, and, then, grinned.

"I did notice that about him . . ."

"Uncle JOSH!"

"Just kidding!"

I smiled again. They were adorable, the two of them. But, it was time to say goodbye. I knelt down by Jonny, and whispered, "It was nice having you here, Jonny."

The kid actually blushed. " I like spending time with you, too," he said shyly.

"And, if you come back, I"ll teach you to sing the chicken song, OK?"

Jonny giggled, and nodded.

"Bye, then. Take care." I kissed him gently on his forehead, the clean scent of his skin filling my nostrils. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then kissed me back, on my cheek. I smiled, and stood up, gently ruffling his hair. For the 201st time.

I shook hands with Jonny's uncle, then watched as Jonny took his uncle's hand, and the two of them walked down the little path between my gardens. Jonny turned back once, to wave goodbye, and then, they vanished into the gloom of the night. Shivering, I wrapped my hands around myself. It was strange how quickly I became fond of Jonny -- very strange. I've always thought that liking someone can be so hard, loving even worse. I mean, when you like someone a lot -- as a friend or whatever -- it becomes a little hard when they're gone. I don't even want to imagine what it would feel like to be in love, and then having that love leave you.

I was thinking about everything, I know, everything, BUT Jonny's Uncle Josh. He scared me so much, in that way I mentioned. It would be so easy to get another crush, except this time, it would be worse than ever. But, hopefully, he was out of my life -- him and Jonny. I realised I was standing outside on a cold January night, and I retreated into the sanctum of my home. Somehow, the house felt just a little more empty, a little less cheerful. It felt like there hadn't been any laughter in that room for a long, long, time.

No point depressing myself. I turned in early. After stripping out of that stupid robe. Just thinking about it made me flush again in embarrassment. I felt like a fool. Probably not for the last time, though. I lied down on my bed, my mind awhirl, thinking . . . . a bit of the present and a bit of the past. And a lot about Josh. I could still hear his voice, higher than mine, but still rich and full, almost intoxicating in its headiness. It was the type of voice you would imagine on a handsome, smooth, suave singer, belting out soulful tunes.

But, I didn't want this. Not again. I tried hard NOT to think about it, but too late. Justin . . . . I sobbed in pain at that name. He was my first crush, back in school, when I first found out what I was. He was shorter than me, but beautiful with a pert nose, longish hair that was neat and silky, and large, brown eyes. His laugh was like music, his voice a song. He loved the sound of his own voice, and he loved anything that would display it: talking, singing, anything, as long as he could marvel over his own voice.

I sat next to him, then, shy and too tall for my age. I was younger than he was at 14, but already more developed. I was awed over his beauty, and he knew it. I could still remember the times he used to coax me into doing his work for him. History, English, Physics. We took the same subjects, and I always helped him. I tried telling myself that I did it because we were friends . . . . but I knew better. He enthralled me, with those clear eyes; his lean, warm body that I could almost feel as he sat next to me; the warm breath that I could feel on my neck as he whispered to me in class. I was a fool. I knew he liked girls but I didn't want to stop doing things for him. In the end, after we graduated, after I had convinced my heart that we were friends, he simply left, and never kept in contact ever again. That HURT so bad. I was depressed after that incident, depressed because I had given my heart to a bastard, and he simply crushed it after he had used me for as long as he could. I became warier, careful about whom I had crushes over, b'cos I was always scared that the next would turn into another Justin.

Even thinking about him made my heart ache again, and my eyes began welling with tears. Oh, Justin, Justin, Justin . . . . I cried long and hard. Even after seven long years, I still hurt inside, hurt like hell. When I was done, I looked up at the ceiling, my pillow damp with tears. I could still remember my resolution -- the one I had made that night after he left, after I realised the truth. "Never will I let another hurt me so bad. NEVER." I think I kept to it. I had crushes, true, but none were as deep they were that first time. But, now, I was scared that it would be even deeper with him . . . . .

I woke up to the sound of a ringing phone. I reached over, grabbed the handset, and mumbled into it a disgruntled, "Hello?"

"Sorry to wake you up so early, Allie, but I had to know -- did you see him?" Shonsea sounded even more excited than she usually did, which is quite an accomplishment, I have to admit. But I couldn't care less. Someone was pounding a hammer on my head. It HURT like hell.

"See who? What are you talking about?" I mumbled, still half asleep.

"What do you mean, who? Yesterday, the boy's --"

"You mean, his uncle?"

"Is that who he is? WOW! To think to have him as an uncle! The kid must be real happy!"

I shook my head to get rid of the pain, then, wished I hadn't. "What about him?"

"You mean, you didn't see him properly?"

"NO, he was in the dark, and I wasn't exactly focusing on him --"

"You -- you IDIOT! Don't you know who that was?" I could almost hear her gnashing her teeth.

"WHO?" I yawned.

"That was JC -- from N'Sync!!!"

I froze in mid-yawn. It couldn't be! But his voice had sounded familiar -- as if I had heard it before . . . . Gosh! A real star -- in my home. But, then . . . .

"Yeah, so?" I said, sounding more disinterested than I was.

"What do you mean, SO??" Shonsea shrieked into the phone.

"So, what? True, he's a star and everything but other than that, he's just human."

She snorted on her side of the phone. "Just human! Hah! Most girls -- and some guys for that matter -- don't think the same, you know! Well, whatever! By the way, you should have been there. It was real fun!"

I groaned. "Please don't rub it in. Anything happened?"

"Not much. Just that we're close to getting the 'Rose of Jumlaq'" she said, matter-of-factly.

"You're kidding!" I shouted, fully awake.

"Yup! Gaia managed to trace the Lethryl back to her lair, and we slew her there. It was old Bombur who found the secret door that led to Archai'nyn. We followed it, right, and we managed to find the portal to the Oracle. She told us that the 'Rose' lies within the teeth of the Wyrm. A bit more after that, but I'll tell you later, OK? Are you coming for today's Fair?"

"Mebbe -- I don't really know. I'm just a it lazy today."

"Just today? I don't think so."

"Ha ha. Very funny -- not! We'll see, OK? If I'm not there by noon, it probably means I'm not coming."

"Fine! See you then. Either later on or tonight! Ciao."

"Bye!" I managed before she hung up. I shook my head. JC! I have to admit that it was quite unnerving. To think I was that close to somebody famous . . . . seriously, I was OK about it -- I'm not like a huge fan or anything. I just like a few songs -- but a normal person really doesn't expect to meet anybody famous.

I just lay there, thinking for a while, then bounded out of bed, to the bathroom. I squeezed some toothpaste on my brush, and scrubbed desperately. I twisted the faucet, letting the water run, filling my cup to gargle. As soon as I was done, I shook my can of shaving cream before coating my chin with the foamy substance. Carefully, with the razor, I scraped, gently but firmly as well. It always amused me no end to hear about someone nicking themselves while shaving. That never happened to me before -- not once.

I had just finished wiping my face with a towel when the doorbell rang. I frowned. Couldn't be Shonsea. Or Gail. Or Lian. Or Terry. Nobody I knew would come that early. I was a late riser on Saturday and Sunday mornings, and everyone who knew me knew that -- today was the exception. Who could it be? I shucked a bathrobe over my PJs, tied it, and hopped down. I yawned once, as I walked over to the door, then opened it. I blinked when I thought I saw who was there, but the optical illusion I thought I saw didn't vanish.

"Hello!" Jonny chirped, a cap on his head, a red woollen vest covering his white shirt.

I smiled wryly. "What happened? You got lost again?" I said, and crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe.

Jonny made a face, then stuck out his tongue at me. "No. I came over to say hi!"

"Alone?"

"Not really," a voice said, and then he appeared, striding down the path. He smiled sheepishly. "I sent Jonny first, 'cos I was parking the Jeep."

"I see," I said, calmly. Calm at least, on the outside. Inside, I could feel my heart drumming in my chest, and I had a sudden urge to slam the door shut. But, I wanted to look in those wide blue eyes, tinged with the barest hint of emerald. I wanted to look at how beautiful he was in those worn, blue jeans, wearing the same red vest as Jonny, over a white shirt as well. I had to exert myself to stop from staring, to stop from reaching out to play with those golden-brown locks, to stop from throwing myself at his feet. Instead, I asked, "Do you want to come in?"

"Sure."

They stepped in, and when his eyes lingered on me, I was SO conscious of how I must look, in my white bathrobe, my hair unbrushed as it was. Surreptitiously, I combed my hair with my fingers, wincing as my finger swept through tangles.

"I see we woke you up from your sleep. Sorry," he said, grinning apologetically. "If you want, we can come back later --"

"No, no. There's no need. I always wake up this early anyway," I lied. "I was just lazing, you know." He nodded.

"By the way, I never fully introduced myself. My name's JC Chasez," he said and offered me his hand.

I shook his hand, lightly, dreading the effect of even that gentle touch. "Allie Wu."

"Jonathan Timberlake," Jonny piped up. I ruffled his hair again, and he smacked my hand. Timberlake? That meant that he was . . . .

I could sense that JC had seen that look of recognition in my eyes at that name, and there was an expression of curiosity on his face, as if he was waiting to see how I would react. I almost snorted. He sure was arrogant! He may be famous and everything, but I'll be darned if I started grovelling at his feet. I smoothed my face of any expression, except for calm serenity, and inquired, "Would you like to have something to drink? Maybe, something to eat?"

Jonny began nodding eagerly, and I laughed. JC had a smile playing on his lips, and he nodded with a mumbled, "Thank you!" I left him, confusion on his face. Seriously, I don't think anyone had ever NOT reacted like I just did. I smiled to myself, and it stuck on my face as I brewed some tea. I toasted some bread, took out a few cuts of ham, tossed everything together into sandwiches before filling a glass with chocolate milk, for Jonny. I was quite proud of myself. I had gotten used to the idea of treating JC as a guest and not a celebrity. I don't think many can actually do that.

When I got the table set up, and finally sat down, JC was regarding me with a bemused look. Though I just smiled back at him, I was raging inside. WHAT was so funny about me, that kept him SO amused? I contented myself with nibbling at my sandwich, even though I felt like smacking that smile off his face. I guess you can see that I have quite a temper. Not something I'm proud of, but I'm stuck with it. Finally, though, my anger died down, instead, replaced by an artist's appreciation of beauty.

He had beautiful hands, graceful and strong. It looked as if he was good with musical instruments, and remembering what I did of him, he should be. JC had that classic profile. I don't think he knew I was watching him, and that just made him look more boyish than ever. His shoulders were broad enough to make him look athletic, without giving him the image of an ardent bodybuilder. In fact, JC looked like one of those lucky few who were metabolically efficient, and would always remain trim no matter how much he ate. I thought I managed to keep my glances hidden but I noticed him eyeing me from the corner of his eyes, so I stopped looking, and concentrated on my meal.

Jonny was eating like there was no tomorrow, hurriedly wolfing down his meal as if he was starving. It was amusing to watch, but also rather alarming. Who could think such a small boy could eat SO much? When he was done, he just sat there, looking at the two of us, but I could sense him squirming in his seat. JC was looking at his "nephew" with an arched inquiring eyebrow, but Jonny remained silent, fidgeting with himself silently. I had a suspicion of what was bothering him, and I finally caved in.

"Cartoons are on Channel 5, remember?"

Jonny jumped eagerly at that. "You mean . . . can I --"

"Go ahead." With a mumbled thanks, Jonny tore out of there, throwing himself on the couch before fiddling with the remote. The TV instantly flickered to life with a roar as the theme song of 'Beast Wars' filled the air. Kids. I turned my head back, and noticed the look of admiration on JC's face.

"That was cool. How did you know what was bothering him?"

I smiled. "Easy. Today's Saturday and that's when all the cartoons -- the good ones anyway -- are on. It was just an exercise in jumping to conclusions."

"You're pretty smart," JC said admiringly.

I laughed depreciatingly. "More like, I never grew up, which explains the understanding part."

He smiled. We were both silent as we continued our meal. Only the roar of the TV filled in the silence but even without it, I would feel comfortable. Usually, when you meet a stranger, when there's a silence, it always feels uncomfortable. But, somehow, I felt perfectly at ease with JC, silence or no silence. I guess he was that type of guy who's pretty friendly with everyone, so friendly that he puts everyone at ease. I was enjoying that strange moment when, suddenly, JC piped up.

"You know who I am, right?" he asked softly.

"Yeah . . . ." I replied, warily. If he . . .

"So . . . . you're not gonna freak out soon are you? I mean, since you didn't do it before . . ."

I snorted. "Did you know that you are unbelievably arrogant? You may be famous and etc., etc., etc., but I don't HAVE to be overawed, do I?"

He grinned sheepishly, putting a hand behind his head. "Sorry. You're right, I know, but I've just gotten too used to people screaming hysterically whenever they see me. Especially girls." He grimaced slightly. He even looked good doing that.

"Don't worry. I won't hold it against you that you're unbelievably famous, rich and admired."

He laughed. It was a wonderful sound. "I guess you're right. Thank you so much," he said with mock solemnity.

I started grinning. At least, he wasn't the insufferable prig that some stars are. I finally began to relax. He was very charming, with a fine wit and a good sense of humour. All in all, he didn't seem too bad a person. For a while, there was just silence, stretching on. I sipped at my tea, watching Jonny from the corner of my eye. He was really absorbed in whatever was on at the moment.

"JC," I began, "not that you and Jonny are unwelcome, but why did you come today -- besides thanking me, I mean?" I looked at him expectantly. I never noticed it earlier but he had he most incredible blue eyes I've ever seen. Deep and warm, and so blue, yet seemingly tinged with the slightest hint of green.

JC bit his lip, and then said, "Well, we -- Justin and I -- had planned to treat you to lunch for all you did. You aren't busy, are you? I mean, we would really like to thank you for everything. If Lynn ever found out that I actually lost Jonny, she'd KILL me!" A rather exaggerated look crossed his face, and I laughed. He grinned in return, his teeth white and straight. "Well, other than that, you are the only person whom I actually remotely even know here. So, how 'bout it?" He arched an eyebrow.

"I can't help it! Your incredible flair with words has hooked me -- I'll join the Dark Side, father!" I did in my best Luke Skywalker voice. JC rolled his eyes. "Thanks a lot!" he said, then grinned. "How 'bout I take you out to my place, we pick up Justin, then we go for lunch?"

I shrugged. "If you want. Anything's fine by me." A thought crossed my mind. "JC?"

"Yeah?" He leant back into the chair, his eyes half-closed.

"Where are you gonna go for lunch? I mean, you do want to avoid the crowds, right?"

He opened his eyes, considering. "You know, you're right. Do you have a suggestion as to where to go? Some place nice, I mean?"

Dryly, I said, "I wouldn't know but I can give it a try. Hmmm, where can you get good food in a relatively clean place, unlike the filthy hovels I frequent?"

JC held up his hands, protesting, "Hey! I didn't mean it that way!"

I simply looked at him, a smile on my lips. "Where do you guys stay, anyway? How many of you are here, anyway? Not all your fellows?"

"No, no. Just Justin, Jonny and I. Everybody else went somewhere entirely . . . . We stay somewhere nearby. You know that villa by the far side off the lake? The one with the low stone wall?"

I nearly choked. "You guys stay there? How did you get it? It's Old Lady Reynolds' jig. She never lets it out, as far as I know."

He smiled wryly. "It just so happens that Mrs Reynolds is one of Lynn's friends. Anyway, Lynn kinda owns part of it, so it's kinda ours."

"There seems to be a lot of 'kinda's in that sentence."

He shrugged. He appeared to be lost in thought when he suddenly said, "Allie, could I have your number?"

I was rather surprised. Not that I expected him to be interested at all -- he was as straight as an arrow -- but the idea of JC asking for my number was disconcerting, to say the least. He must have seen something on my face 'cos he hurriedly added, "I mean, since we're like neighbours, it wouldn't hurt to get somebody's number -- somebody whom I know and like. I mean, you could show us around New Zealand . . . "

I pulled at a stray lock of hair, chewing my lip. considering. JC was nice, and all, but he was quite fascinating to me -- in a way that might not be good for me. Yet, the chance to hear his voice, and get to know him better was a desirable goal. So, it was this or that. Either give or not.

"I assure you. I'm not a murderer, and I don't go around mutilating people," JC chimed in so suddenly that I was startled. "It wasn't that. Or maybe it was. I was just thinking how little I know you or about you. Still . . ." SO in the end, I caved in, and gave it to him. I just hoped I wasn't going to regret this.

When we finally tore Jonny away from the TV, it was somewhere past noon. JC had called Justin, though he did need my help in finding the phone. Finally did find it, though, hidden under the sofa. I couldn't remember leaving it there, though. After confirming with Justin, we got into JC's red Jeep and he drove leisurely to the villa. It was good day to be out. Partly cloudy, with good cool winds, it was still warm enough despite the coming autumn, that all we really needed was a sweater. I sat behind JC with Jonny since Justin was coming after all. I was just looking out most of the times, the rush of air whipping my hair into a mess which I straightened with my fingers. Jonny lay pressed against me, my arm around him. He felt like a teddy bear, one that I would love to hug all the time. He was just so cuddly.

JC kept looking at us through the rearview mirror, amusement so prominent on his face. I guess we looked pretty familial, with Jonny like my younger brother, for all that we looked so much different. When he knew that I had caught him looking, his grin only became wider until I stuck my tongue out at him. Then, he laughed.

The drive took about ten minutes, I guess, since we took the long way, whipping through the long road. I could hardly care less -- I was already languorous and dreamy, with the smooth purr of the Jeep beneath me, the cool air, the warmth of the sun, the song of birds gentle and soft in the background . . . . When we finally reached the villa, I hardly noticed except for Justin's arrival.

He looked much like an older version of Jonny who was already lying half-asleep against me, with golden curls, and lightly tanned skin. I noticed with delight that his eyes were a deep blue, almost the color of the sky itself. But his smile . . . how I ached when he smiled at me -- it reminded me so much of my own Justin. I quickly pushed those thoughts down, and shook his hand when he offered it to me.

"So, Allie, where do we go?" JC turned to look at me, his eyes enquiring.

"Well, " I began, slowly, "my friend has this place near the lake. It's pretty quiet, and I can guarantee privacy for the two of you. The food's good, and it's a mixed affair. so you can pick whatever you want. There's straight NZ fare, American, Mexican, Chinese, Italian, and a lot more."

JC turned back to Justin. "What do you think, Just?"

"Not bad. I kinda like it," he said, flashing me a grin. I was slightly startled when I started humming "Possibility", and quickly stopped. I liked his voice, though. Higher than JC's, it was more vibrant. And, then, I noticed how much younger he looked. About 18, I guess.

JC started the car, and we were on our way. I was quiet throughout the short ride, though Jonny was wide awake, and talking with Justin. There was something in the air, I guess, something that just made me feel so sleepy, and so exhilarated at the same time. Whatever it was, I hoped it passed soon. When JC asked me for directions, I directed them to Shon's restaurant, the one she called "Blue Mirror". Strange name, I guess, but that's Shonsea for you.

I hustled them into the restaurant, partly because I was ravenous and also partly b'cos particularly cold winds were picking up, and I was wearing the thinnest sweater among the four of us. Sarah, a petite girl -- or young lady, I guess -- directed us to our table, in a private dining room. I was pretty well known there, maybe b'cos of Shonsea, but I think it was mainly due to the fact that most of the employees there were former students of mine. Sarah was one of them. The look she gave me was part happiness at seeing me, and trepidation at the sight of a former teacher. When she handed us our menus, and hurried away for a jar of ice water, I took my time.

I could see JC and Justin looking around the place. Jonny was too busy studying his menu. The Mirror isn't that bad, I guess, with smoked glass covering the veranda, where there was this fabulous view of the lake. Of course, that meant sitting out in the cold, and most usually declined at the prospect. It's not exactly appetite-inducing to sit in the cold. There were the masks that Shonsea liked crafting; those hung all over the place. I helped in some but my favourite was the one we both made together. With a lot of feathers, the mask had slits in the front for eyes, slits that were threaded with gold lining, and the feathers were even more striking with the glorious purple, white, blue, red and green that we had fussed over. You could actually buy the masks off the wall, if you wanted, but Shonsea swore to me that she would never sell that mask.

"Hey, Allie! Got any suggestions on what to order?" I jumped at JC's question.

"Hey, what's this Avadayata special?" Justin asked, a frown on his face.

Ohmigosh! "Wait! Don't order that! You have to be really able to take spicy stuff before you can touch that!"

JC smiled. "C'mon, it can't be that spicy!"

"Take my advice, OK? Don't order unless you want to go to the hospital . . ."

"You're exaggerating, right?" Justin arched one blond eyebrow.

I sighed. "How about this? I'll order one bowl and you guys can try. If you like it, you can order it as well. But, that means you had better not order anything yet. OK?"

Dubiously, JC relented, "Well, OK, I guess." Justin just shrugged.

When Sarah came back, she was incredulous. "Are you sure, Allie? I mean, I know you can take it but still . . . ." I noticed that she barely glanced at JC and Justin, both of whom noticed as well. "Go on, Sarah. It's my choice."

"Yes, sir," she said automatically, and blushed. Jonny ordered as well, though, I had to get him to try something else other than hot dogs. "C'mon, Jonny. How about something good like this lunch set? There's a bit of everything . . ."

"Nope. I want my hot dog."

"C'mon, Jonny. You just can't eat hot dogs all the time . . . "

"I can to!"

It went back and forth until I glared at the other two who had remained silent. "Hello! You could help, ya know!" In the end, I gave up. Sarah was glad to scuttle away, though I did ask her to bring a pitcher of ice water to the table.

JC looked at me. "What was that thing about the 'sir' business?" he asked curiously.

I smiled wryly. "Well, I used to teach Sarah art when I was 17 or so. I was pretty strict, I guess, and it seems that the 'conditioning' stuck. Sometimes, when I encounter one of my former students, they're torn between treating me as they did when they were twelve, and acting their age. But, it was fun, you know, to teach art . . . ."

"You paint?" Justin asked, chewing on one of the bread sticks.

"I nodded. JC turned to Justin. "You should see the ones he sells. They're simply incredible!" I blushed. "They're only the rejects, JC -- nothing spectacular."

"You mean, you have better paintings?" he said, incredulously.

"Yeah . . ." I said, cautiously. He was planning something.

"Allie . . ." he hesitated.

"What?"

"Could you show me some of those paintings?" JC looked me in the eyes.

"Me, too," Justin chimed in.

"Me, three." That was from Jonny. I laughed, and ruffled his hair.

"If you guys want . . . ."

"I'll take that as a promise." Justin smiled enigmatically.

We talked a bit more, some senseless stuff, and some serious things. I did my best to make sure that Jonny wasn't excluded but he seemed pretty much fascinated by the sight of birds flying over the lake. At times, he would press his face against the glass, the smoothness clouding over with condensation. But when the food came, he quickly scampered over to the table.

As promised, I gave Justin and JC their taste of the thick, reddish-orange curry, making sure that they had plenty of water close by. One taste, and Justin's face began flushing, and he quickly reached for the glass of water, downing it in one gulp, before refilling his glass. JC was a bit more spectacular. He coughed, and then, his face was flushed with sweat. He coughed, and again, and again, until I thrust the glass into his hand. He drank as much as he could, refilling it. Between the two of them, they finished the pitcher, and I had to get Sarah to bring another. Her face had the too obvious composure of one trying hard not to laugh. Even Jonny was giggling away. Myself, I kept my face smooth but I knew a smile was playing on my lips, tugging them up into the beginning of a laugh.

When they finally stopped, I teased, "Want another taste?" Both shook their heads vehemently. I called Sarah over, and the two of them finally ordered something a little more sedate. I smiled again before digging in. It was good, though, it was spicy, indeed, but I could take it. When I looked up, Justin's face was disbelieving, and JC looked stunned.

"What?" I asked, sure I knew what they were thinking.

"You're actually going to eat that?" Justin was aghast.

"Yeah. It's quite good actually."

"How do you do it?" JC demanded.

"I've had years of experience, you know. In Malaysia, where I was born, we had much spicier fare." I laughed at the incredulous looks on their faces.

The rest of lunch was pretty much the same, with jokes thrown courtesy of JC and Justin. I laughed until my sides hurt, and told them other stories, in return. It was pretty enjoyable. It was not until the end that I realised that we had treated each other like close friends. I really got to know them. Justin was actually quite mischievous in a way, always willing to have a good laugh, but he knew when to stop and be serious. JC, though, was different. He liked to enjoy himself, and he liked to indulge as well, but I saw in him a conscientious fellow, who tried his best to be good. JC was exactly the type of person I would have cheerfully despised, but, somehow, he made me like him. He wasn't proud, but he wasn't humble, either. He was, in a nutshell, wonderfully human.

When the bill was settled, I managed to slip my share in by passing it to Sarah who then handed it back to the guys. They weren't exactly too pleased with that but I told them that they had more than settled the balance by making my time with them so enjoyable. We got into the Jeep again, and we took another slow drive through the countryside, until we ended up in the villa. We dropped Justin and Jonny, who was close to falling asleep on his feet, and I moved in front, next to JC. He started the Jeep, and I began looking out again.

"Allie?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you in a hurry to get back or something?"

I turned to look at JC. He was staring at the road in front of him. "Not really. Why?"

He looked at me and grinned. "Well, I think I have to work off some pounds so I was thinking of going for a walk around the lake. I was just wondering if you'd like to go to."

I smiled. "Sure."

It was quiet when we got to the bank of the lake. JC parked the Jeep somewhere off the road, and we got out. The wind was picking up. I could feel it, like long cold fingers, brushing up against me. The path to the lake was kinda rocky but I was wearing sneakers, as was JC, so it wasn't too difficult to get there. As I stared out at the immensity of the blue lake, its smooth surface reflecting the sky above so well, I was struck again by the incredible beauty of it all. This was all I really needed. All I really wanted. I didn't need anything else. Nor anyone. Except for my friends, of course, but even that want seemed to pale as I stood there. I was conscious of JC standing beside me, so close that I could feel the warmth emanating off his body. He looked so beautiful, standing there, head tilted up to the sky, eyes closed. I should have felt some sexual urge, at least, looking at him like that. But all I felt was awe at his beauty, and the fervent need to touch him, to see that he was real, and not a figment of my imagination.

I remember reading somewhere, of a story, where the heroine found herself incapable of thinking anything lewd. And she used to explain that somewhere in her head was an elderly, retired postal worker, a strict old lady who marked anything the slightest bit uninhibited with red ink, stamping it "RETURN TO SENDER". Now, I felt as if that old lady had moved into my head. I actually haven't been able to squeeze off anything the slightest bit erotic. Maybe, that old lady really had moved.

JC opened his eyes, and looked at me, smiling. "It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, you're right." You're beautiful, I thought.

"Wanna walk?"

"Sure," I replied with a shrug, and a rueful smile.

It was disconcerting to walk with JC. He hummed from time to time, his voice filling me with a strange new feeling. "Did I tell you I heard you singing?"

"I saw you, ya know," I stated, looking at him from the corner of my eye.

"Well, yeah," he began, sheepishly, "anyway, you have an excellent voice."

"Since you're the expert, I'll take your word for it," I quipped.

He gave me a flat stare, and chuckled. "Smart aleck."

"I'm glad you noticed."

He really laughed, then.

We were quiet for a while, then, not talking but, then, I guess, we really didn't need to. I was just happy being near him. I mean, JC was nice, and, true, he was damn gorgeous, but I liked him for who he was, and I doubt if I had anything real for him, besides friendship. I could look, though, since there was no harm in looking. I mean, looking at beauty is OK for an artist, right? Maybe. Anyhow, we just walked for a while, or at least, I thought so, until I found out that we had nearly walked the length of the lake, and that's no mean feat. Through unspoken assent, we walked back to the Jeep, still silent.

When JC spoke, then, I was startled. "How cold do you think the water is?"

"Very. If you walked in it, you'd probably become so numb that you could hardly move. And then, you'd drown." I said that rather matter-of-factly.

JC looked at me, curiosity in his eyes. "So, then, how would someone rescue a drowning person?"

"Why? You wanna try?" I laughed as he began protesting. "I was just kidding. Well," I considered, my tone becoming more serious, "something like that did happen once. They swam after the kid, wearing this wetsuit, b'cos supposedly, the suit buffered you from the cold. Then, they hauled both the rescuer and the kid in. The guy wasn't in that bad a condition but they had to send the kid to the hospital."

"Oh. I see."

We were almost close to the Jeep when I turned to JC and said, "JC, why don't you go on back? I mean, it's only a short walk to back to my house from here."

"I can't do that. What if something happens to you?"

"This isn't New York, you know. It's pretty much safe. Anyway, I insist."

Reluctantly, JC gave in, "Well, if you insist."

He was silent. "Allie?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope we can be friends. I really like you."

I smiled at him and squeezed his hand, gently. "We already are, I think."

JC returned my smile, and squeezed my hand, in return. "I know we are."

I crossed the road, surmounting the gentle slope. "Bye, JC. See you," I said, and waved goodbye to him. I quickly turned my back on him so I didn't know if he waved back, but I couldn't face him, to see how wonderful he looked with the sun shining on his hair. I just couldn't.

The walk back, I just thought on what was happening. I liked JC, I really did, and Justin, and Jonny, of course, but it was JC that really figured in my thoughts. I wanted to be his friend, but, I was scared if, one day, I couldn't handle being just his friend. I don't really know what would happen.

When I reached my house, it seemed just a little emptier than it had ever been. I just threw myself on the couch, my arm over my eyes, my head throbbing. The phone rang, loudly. I groaned. Who could it be, now? I picked up the receiver, and mumbled, "Hello?"

"Allie? This is JC."

Almost immediately, I sat up and spoke more clearly. "Oh, hi, JC. What's up?"

"I was just wondering, right, whether you wanted to go out tomorrow. You see, Just and Jonny are going fishing near the lake, and well, I was never an avid fisherman. So, I was just wondering if you have any suggestions on where to go?"

I spoke, hesitantly. "Well, JC, there's this place, about two hours drive away, called Milford Sound. If you want, we can rent a boat and go cruising around. If you want."

"Sounds great. How about I pick you up tomorrow around ten in the morning?"

"Sure. Oh, yeah, if you wanna go swim, you can, ya know, though, I wouldn't exactly suggest Milford Sound. But, I was thinking of stopping by Queenstown for lunch, and on the way back, we could always go swimming in the heated pool near the Club there. Are you game?"

"OK. I guess I have to bring my own swimming trunks, right?"

"Unless you wanna go skinny-dipping." I could feel my mouth quirking into a smile.

"Hmmm, that's a suggestion there . . . ."

"JC, you're not serious, right? Right?" I was half amused, half scandalized. "I don't want to get thrown out of the Club, OK?"

"Well, if you want an answer, you'll just have to wait till tomorrow." He laughed evilly, and said, "See ya later, alligator."

"Bye," I said, but he had already hung up.

Shonsea came over that night for dinner. She almost always did. We took turns cooking dinner but when it was her turn, we usually ended up calling for pizza or eating out. She's a lousy cook.

"Hello, Allie," she called out as she breezed in through the back door. "I brought some apple juice for dinner and some roses. I'll put it in the vase for you."

I just said "Hi!" and let her bustle around the kitchen.

"Where's dinner? What IS for dinner?" she asked, finally stepping out of the kitchen.

"Hmm, we're having --" and I stopped there, my mouth dropping. Shonsea had actually pulled out all the feathers in her hair, and had, instead, bound it up in an elegant coiffure. And, she was wearing JEANS! Shonsea! Shonsea who always wore only those black gowns!

She smiled at me. "You like it?" She turned around, showing off the cream-coloured blouse that she wore. Even the black nail polish was scrubbed clean, and her nails had been trimmed.

"What happened to you?" I blurted out.

"I was just dressing up for Jeff. He likes me like this."

"So, you and Jeff are officially a thing?"

Shon beamed at me. "Yup."

"I'm happy for you," I said, and squeezed her arm.

She squeezed my hand back, and quietly said, "What about you, Allie? You don't intend to be alone forever, do you? You can't, you know."

I shrugged. "It's fate. I just can't seem to find anybody."

"How about Derek? You know he's crazy about you. Why don't you give him a chance?"

I sighed wearily. We had been through this many times. "Shon, you know the choices I made a long time ago. I'm keeping to those choices, and I don't think it'd be fair to Derek -- or anybody else for that matter -- to be stuck in a relationship like that."

Her face hardened. "You can be such a fool, Allie." Shon's voice became gentler, a little wearier. "Why don't you just let somebody shag you and be done with it?"

"Shon . . ." I said, warningly.

She held up her hands as though to surrender. "Fine, fine."

"As I was saying earlier, dinner's in the oven. Can't you smell it? We're having baked potatoes and lasagne. I whipped together some toppings for the potatoes. I think they should be done in a bit."

Shon rubbed her hands expectantly. "Good, I'm famished."

I laughed. "You always say that!"

"B'cos it's always true!"

I shook my head. Dinner was the same. Lots of teasing as we crammed food down our throats. Talking about everything. Shon told me that her parents were coming over next week, at the beginning of March, and we both despaired of them even approving of Shon's lifestyle.

As we were starting in on the chocolate chip ice cream I had bought, Shonsea turned to me. "So, how was it meeting JC?"

I was flabbergasted. "How did you know about today?"

She was goggle-eyed. "Today? I was talking about yesterday! You mean, you saw him today again?"

"Yeah. He's quite nice. So's Justin."

"You SAW Justin as well?!"

I spent a long time, telling her about everything. She was smiling as I neared the ending of the story, a knowing smile that was so her.

"What?" I asked.

"You like him, don't you?"

Who?" I asked, evasively. I knew her well enough to know that she knew me.

"Don't try to evade, Allie. JC, of course. You really like him, don't you?" The smile was even more wide now.

I sighed. Loudly. "Shon, I know how to remain friends with incredibly good-looking straight guys, OK? Though, he IS rather cute, isn't he?" I said, and giggled. Oh Lord, I was turning into a school girl.

"You're right, there!" Cautiously, she added, "Are you sure there's nothing on at all between you and him?"

"For there to be a thing, there has to be something from him, wouldn't there? Anyway, I only like him as a friend."

"If you say so. You wanna come with me to Queenstown, tomorrow? Jeff and I are going in for a movie -- I think it was "Simply Irresistible", I think."

I looked at the floor for a moment before I replied. "Can't, I'm going out tomorrow."

A look filled her eyes. "With who?"

"JC," I answered, still not looking at her.

"Allie . . . . Where are you going?"

"Milford Sound, and then, Queenstown. Maybe we'll see you there."

"If you want . . . ."

I scowled at her. "Just eat your ice cream, Shon."

Burying her face in her cup, Shon murmured loud enough for me to hear, "I wonder who's gonna get some tomorrow night?"

"Shut up, Shon . . . ."

She giggled.

By 9:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, I was already dressed and waiting for JC, sipping some orange juice. I had dressed as appropriately as I thought I should, with a white T-shirt under a loose, open long-sleeved blue denim shirt, and long, loose blue jeans. I tucked my little crystal-on-a-thong back under my T-shirt, then reconsidered, and took it out. I was nervous, constantly fiddling with my sleeves, first rolling it up, then pulling them down, and finally, rolling it up again. It was with a supreme effort of will that I forced my hands down to the table, and made them lay still. My duffel bag was by my side, filled with the towels I had brought, my swimming trunks, an extra one for JC, just in case, my brush, a change of clothes. a bottle of 'Chromosome', and most important of all, my wallet.

At 9:45, I heard a horn, and I ran out, locking my doors, before jumping into the red Jeep. "You're early. Couldn't wait, huh?" JC teased. He was wearing a leather jacket over his black T-shirt and jeans.

"I have ESP, don't you know?" I quipped. "C'mon, driver, let's go."

JC just grinned and revved the Jeep. Again, as we started down the road, the same languorous quality was settling over me. I rubbed at my eyes, my duffel bag, beneath the seat, my legs clutching it. Before I knew what was happening, I yawned.

"If you're sleepy, just go to sleep," JC told me, a grin on his face. He was AMUSED by this. I almost said, no, thank you, but before I could say it, I think I fell asleep.

When I woke up, JC was looking around him, the radio softly humming with the gentle tunes of the Chieftains.

"You're awake, huh?" He still had that amused tone.

I yawned. "Sorry. I should have been directing you to the Sound."

"Don't worry. We have to pass through Queenstown first before reaching the Sound, right?" I nodded. "Well, getting to Queenstown is pretty easy. We're almost there, I think."

He was right. We were already entering the suburbs of Queenstown. Tall buildings loomed over us, but they didn't seem as tall as those in the real cities. We zoomed by cars, all quiet on a Sunday morning. Ohmigosh, Sunday! I motioned to JC to park at an empty bay, and when he did, I leaped up out of the Jeep, duffel bag in hand.

"Where are you going?" JC asked as he ran after me.

"I forgot today was Sunday. I think I can still light a candle for mass if I hurry." JC gave me an odd look but he didn't say anything. If I was correct, there was a small church just around the corner. I entered, quietly, but there weren't much people there anyway. Just an old woman, who paid for a candle, before lighting before the cross. I slipped some money to the old priest, waiting behind a table, and I stepped in front of the cross. I didn't even know that JC was standing beside me until he whispered in my ear, "What do you do with the candle?"

I almost jumped. The feel of his warm breath on my ear was extremely distracting. I whispered back, "Don't you know?"

"In church back home, we just used to listen to the preacher's sermons. There was nothing about the candle."

I laughed softly. "The candle is an older tradition. Last time, they used to carve candles into fanciful shapes, and burnt as an offering to God. Now, we use normal candles but it kinda shows that we still believe in God, and that we keep the flame of faith alive inside us. Just light the candle, and leave it in the candelabra. Make a prayer as well."

I lit the wick of the candle, and placed it in the candelabra, praying inside for the continued goodwill and peace for mankind. JC mirrored my actions, though, he did mutter softly under his breath. When we left, after nodding to the priest who returned in kind, I asked him, "What did you pray for?"

"Hmm," he grinned, "that you stop falling asleep in my car. You always drool and it's hard to get that out of the upholstery."

I almost exploded in laughter. "I DO NOT drool!"

"Well, you don't -- but you snore!"

"I DO NOT!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Liar!"

JC just laughed. When we finally stopped laughing, he wiped tears away and asked, "Where to for lunch?"

I thought for a moment. "There's this place in the Mall. It's not bad."

"Sure."

We made our way through the Sunday crowd at the Mall, going up to the 2nd floor, where we had a burger each washed down with a Coke. Then, we just wandered around before we went back to the Jeep. As we drove away, I thought I saw him . . . . but, it couldn't be. Could it?

The drive to Milford Sound was a bit more entertaining for JC since I was actually awake. I pointed out some sheep to him, and he would comment that a black-faced ewe looked like his "Aunt Jemma". I laughed so loud that the ewe darted away. That made us laugh harder. Halfway, though, the radio played the Corrs' "Don't Say You Love Me." I couldn't stop myself from singing along while JC listened to me.

" I've seen this place a thousand times

I've felt this all before

And every time you call, I wait in fear

As though, you might not call at all

I know this face I'm wearing now

I've seen it in my eyes

And though I feel so brave, I'm still afraid

That you'll be leaving anytime . . . ."

I let myself unwind in the melody, and was only vaguely surprised when JC joined me in the chorus.

" We've done this once

And then you closed the door

Don't let me fall again

For nothing more

Don't say you love me

Unless it's forever

Don't tell me you need me

If you're not gonna stay

Don't give me this feeling

I'll only believe it

Make it real

Or take it all away . . . ."

I looked at JC, and grinned. "Hey, you're not bad!"

He scowled at me in mock anger. "What do you mean, not bad? I'm very good!"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Whatever you say."

The next verse was already starting.

" I caught myself smiling alone

Just thinking of your voice

And dreaming of your touch

It's all too much

You know I don't have any choice . . . ."

I looked at JC. "You know, I never thought that you would like good groups like the Corrs. I always thought you would like people like George Michael or something."

"I thank you for your praise and confidence in my musical taste," he said, dryly. Smiling, I inclined my head as if the thanks was for real. The look on his face was enough to make me giggle and I did. He reached over, and messed up my hair real good.

I scowled at him then pulled my brush from my bad, and started pulling it through my hair. But I couldn't stay mad at him for long. He was too nice, you know, to make me mad enough to sulk.

When we reached the Sound, it was somewhere past one, and the Marina was, surprisingly, quite empty. JC was about to rent a small little boat when I saw someone I recognised. "JC, wait! I think I might be able to get us a boat for free!" Motioning him to follow me, I hurried over to a yacht with the name "Waverley" emblazoned in black. If I was right . . . .

I saw him, then, bare-chested and still good-looking in the sunlight. His white slacks contrasted strongly with his tanned skin, almost a shade of bronze. I saw him push his golden hair behind his ears -- a deploringly charming habit that I still remembered. I saw his grey eyes grow wide as he saw me, then narrow as he saw JC, standing somewhat behind me. I moved a little closer, a small smile on my lips. I had almost forgotten how good-looking he was after so many months of avoiding him as well as I could. My heart beat a little faster, partly from nerves, and partly b'cos he could still make my heart race.

"Hello, Allie. It's been a long time." His gaze was disturbingly intense, and I dropped my eyes. Yes, a long time indeed.

"Hello, Derek. I'm glad you still remember me," I said, an impish grin on my lips.

He barked a laugh and shook his head ruefully. "No one can forget you, Allie. No one. Especially not me, no matter how hard I try." The last murmured so softly that I could hardly hear, and certainly not JC. But, I didn't think he wanted me to hear that last bit. "Just visiting? With your friend?" he asked, nodding towards JC.

"Oh, I have been remiss. Um, JC, this is Derek, an old friend," I said, Derek's face twisted into a tight smile at 'old friend', and I quickly hurried on, "And, Derek, this is JC, one of my new friends." I put a slight emphasis on the word 'friends' to let Derek know that he WAS just a friend, and not a romantic interest.

Derek studied JC, then shook his hand. "Glad to meet you. Any friend of Allie's is a friend of mine." JC replied, "Glad to meet you, too."

I cleared my throat. "Uh, JC, would it be all right if I spoke with Derek in private for a while?"

"Sure." He moved away, to study something in the water.

"He's very pretty," Derek said, moving closer towards me. "Is he why you've been avoiding me, Allie? Is he?" he asked harshly, gripping my arm tightly.

"Ow, that hurts, Derek! Let me go!" I said, and he let go of me. I rubbed my hand gently. Derek was strong, stronger than I remembered last time, though. "First, he's really just a friend. I met him yesterday, OK? And who said I was avoiding you?"

"Don't play games with me, Allie!" he grated. "I keep calling you but you're always busy. You've stopped coming to the Club for months and you even didn't attend the opening dinner for the Gala! What's that supposed to tell me? That you're busy? I think you're more than that, Allie! I KNOW you're avoiding me!"

Oh God, I didn't know it was this bad. I placed one hand on his muscled arm but he jerked it away -- not before I felt the trembling tension underneath, though. "Derek, I have to explain everything I did but it's not that convenient here. I was thinking of going onto your yacht, and discussing it with you but -"

"Fine, we'll go on to Waverley."

"Wait! How about JC?"

"You can bring him if you want."

"Hold on, OK?" I walked over to JC, telling him, "JC, we've got permission to go on to Waverley. But, I might not be spending so much time with you. I . . . have things . . to talk about with Derek. Is that OK?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

We climbed aboard, and got settled in as Derek rigged up the anchor, and it began moving away, the waters churning as the prow slashed into the water, swift and smooth. Derek spent a few minutes, fiddling with some switches in the engine room, then marched over to me, and took me below deck. I motioned JC to wait for a while before I vanished into the yacht. Derek pulled me along into the room that was obviously his, closed the door, and then gruffly motioned me to sit on the bed. He folded his arms across that bare chest, and leaned against the door.

"Talk," he said curtly.

I looked at him entreatingly. I wet my lips before speaking. "If you come closer, Dare, it'll be easier for me -- and for you." He shuddered at that nickname. I used to call him Dare b'cos it sounded like a shortened version of Derek, and also b'cos he was always the most daring person I knew. He glared at me, but he sat next to me, on the bed. I could feel his body heat -- he was that close.

Licking my lips again, I placed my hands on his broad, strong shoulders. When he didn't do anything, I started kneading those firm, muscles, unknotting the tension that was apparent through his whole body. Derek groaned, and he lay face down on the bed, and I straddled his lower back. His skin still felt the way I remembered it. Smooth as silk, soft until you felt the hard muscle underneath.

"Dare . . . . I was avoiding you, I have to admit, but not b'cos I have someone else in my life. It's b'cos I want you to find somebody else, somebody to love you like I never could." I felt him tensing as if about to speak. "Dare, let me finish first, OK? You know what I feel about sex, don't you? That isn't going to change. I love you, Dare, and I would love to make love to you, to show you how much I love you, but maybe it's that my principles are too strong, or maybe it's that I don't love you enough to break them. That's why I want you to find someone else. Whatever you think, a relationship without sex can never last -- no matter how much love we have for one another. And, I can't force you into a frustrated relationship where I could never show you -- physically -- how much I really love you. In a sense, Dare, I've given my life to God." I fell silent. I didn't know what else to say. I opened my mouth, to say something else when Derek's warm body pressed down against me, as he wrapped his arms around me, and started sobbing.

I smoothed his short silky blonde hair, as he wept. I was stunned. Derek never cried in all the time I knew him. This was the very first time that he had ever broken down. "Do you know how many nights I dreamt of you in my arms? Of your skin against mine? I love you, Allie, I love you so much. Maybe, you're right -- I can't think of not touching you if we were together. But I can't think of not being near you, either. I want to hear your voice, to feel you against me. I would give my life up if I could have a night lying next to you, skin against skin. Please, Allie. Please!" he whispered to me, in a broken voice. He raised his eyes to mine and he moved closer to me. I could feel his breath against mine, warm and clean. And then, his lips moved against mine, a heat greater than the heart of the sun, demanding more of me than I could give. Yet, I tried to give as much as I could, as I yielded to that insistent kiss. When we finally broke apart, I felt as if I had not taken a breath for an hour. I gulped in the air to soothe my aching lungs. But my heartache would not stop . . . .

Derek's hands lingered on my chest, running down, under my shirt, and I gasped as his fingers touched my skin. They felt like red-hot iron brands, leaving a strange heat that lingered on my skin, as they moved up, brushing against erect nipples, clutching and twisting . . . .

"Derek, stop!" I cried, my voice hoarse with worry. He was stronger than me. If he did not want to, I wouldn't be able to stop him . . . . But he did. With a sigh, my Daredevil disengaged himself from me, watching as I straightened myself, combing my hair. He hardly looked mussed, his golden hair still as unruly as ever. His eyes regarded me for an instant, deep and unknowable. "I liked that, Allie," he murmured in my ear.

"Well, that's all that ever will be, OK? B'cos, Dare, I'm never allowing myself to be touched again in that way . . . ."

He looked at me, sad but serious. "I understand. Can we still be friends?"

I hugged him. "We are, Dare. We are."

He kissed me again, a brief locking of lips but his gaze still felt like sunlight on my skin. "Come on. Your friend will wonder about you." He gave me his hand, hauling me up once I took it, pushing me out the door, and pausing only to slip on a shirt. I glanced at hi. I couldn't believe that he was over me all that quickly. Vain, Allie, I told myself wryly. Dare seemed to feel my eyes upon him, and he looked up, his eyes burning with some emotion that I couldn't decipher. We walked out of that room, silent, and once on deck, we parted. I sensed that Derek needed time to think things through so I left him alone. Instead, I looked around for JC.

I saw him, then, leaning over the railing, almost balanced precariously on it, gazing at the wide expanse of water, his hair tossed by the wind. I walked over towards him, leaning on the railing beside him, touching his elbow with my hand to let him know I was there. JC smiled at me, and I felt breathless at the beauty of his smile.

He gestured at the Sound, saying, "It's beautiful! I've never seen such clear, blue waters before! It's wonderful!" His voice was so eager, so enthusiastic, and so excited that I laughed. He was like a child! JC grinned back at me.

It was an enjoyable cruise with JC so enthralled by the sights of the Sound, laughing and happy, cheerful. Derek overcame the reticence that had filled him just now, and, once again, he became the Derek I had known a few years ago. He and JC hit it off, convinced as he was that JC wasn't a paramour; they talked of many things from cars to sports, bantering about the yacht. I watched the two of them, withdrawing slightly so that they could know each other a bit more. Besides, I had to think.

I was pondering about the future. I didn't quite know if I could really bear the thought of spending my life alone. Shon's words had triggered something in me, and Derek's presence had only encouraged it. From my place towards the stern of the yacht, I caught Derek glancing at me from time to time. Somehow, I had the feeling that he hadn't quite given up on me. It felt as if all my words had only convinced him that I was more desirable due to my unattainability, that he would have to work harder to capture me. Frankly, I was half frightened, and half furious, at the idea. Yet, even these thoughts seemed to fade away, dimming down to a maudlin feeling. I watched the dolphins cruising along with the yacht, making their high-pitched squeaks, and wished that life would only be as simple as the dolphins'.

The wind was stronger, running chill fingers through my hair but the warmth of the sun served to offset the cold. I closed my eyes, feeling the sun hot against my face, trying not to think. But, inevitably, my thoughts drifted towards JC. I liked him, I really did. But how deep did simply liking go before it turned to love? I was scared that if I spent too much time with him, I would end up falling in love -- but I couldn't endure the idea of avoiding him as well. He was the ultimate addiction: I couldn't do without him yet I had to.

"What are you thinking 'bout?"

JC's voice so startled me that I wrenched my eyes open, and nearly fell into the water. But JC's strong hands caught me around my waist, supporting me and steadying me. I turned to look at him.

"Sorry," he said, an apologetic look upon his face, a hand pressed to the back of his neck in an expression of sheepishness.

"No, it's not your fault. I was . . . just rather startled . . ."

"But if I hadn't -"

"C'mon, JC, it's not your fault." I placed one hand upon his arm, trying to soothe him.

He shrugged. "If you say so." JC was silent for a while then he piped up. "What were you thinking so intently about?"

"Things," I said, deliberately being vague. He seemed to sense my reluctance on the subject and didn't press me on it. Instead, he studied me for a moment until I had to keep myself from squirming, before he mussed up my hair with a smile. "Your hair's a real mess!"

"Thanks to you!" I glowered at him, but he only grinned, crossing his arms. I made as if to turn away but then reached up, tousling JC's hair and dashed away, laughing aloud. JC chased after me, yelling at the top of his lungs. I saw Dare before me, watching the two of us amusedly, and I tackled him, send him crashing to the deck, before darting up, still laughing, dancing away from Dare. He roared in mock anger, shouting "I'll get you Allie!" before giving chase. With the two of them chasing after me, I led them around, trusting my speed to keep me out of reach. I was lighter and faster so I managed to evade them successfully. Still chuckling, I paused by the control room, gulping for breath, and, suddenly, a tall, blonde form pounced from the shadowy recesses of the room, shouting to JC. I tried to get away from Dare but he tickled me mercilessly, leaving me lying on the deck, twisting and writhing, shouting in laughter. He knew fully well just how ticklish I was, and he used that knowledge to his advantage, his fingers feathering over my ribs. When JC reached us, I was quite breathless from laughing, trying to fend of Dare's hands but he was too strong.

"Stop, please!" I begged him in between laughs, JC standing over us, grinning away.

"Say, uncle!" I didn't even pause before shaking my head, and a fresh paroxysm of laughter shook my body as JC joined in as well. Under the onslaught of two assailants, I finally gave in, yelling "Uncle!" before they were content to stop. I stood up wearily, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, and was seized by the two of them.

I looked up at them. "Hey, what gives?" Dare grinned and motioned to JC to answer. JC smiled wickedly at me. "You've gotta pay the piper. For what you did, Allie, we're passing judgement." He turned to look at Derek, mock solemnity on his face. "Guilty."

"Guilty," Dare agreed, nodding his head.

"What are you guys doing? Don't you dare --" I began as JC lifted up a tube of paint, and squeezed it gently, releasing a bit of the cerulean-pigmented mixture. "I'm warning you! Don't you DARE !!! JC!" I shrieked as he began daubing the paint on my face. I was laughing, and screaming, trying to escape but Dare's hands held me down easily. The paint was a strange contrast. Cool on my skin that seemed to burn under the sun.

My head was whirling, and spots seemed to dance before my eyes. All I could see was JC's eyes looking into mine -- almost tenderly -- and I found myself in the grip of some rather nebulous feeling that escaped me. It filled my heart as I looked at him, his lips curved into a smile, his long fingers smearing the paint all over me. I still fought Dare's grasp, yelling away, but it was all detached as if I no longer had control of my body, as if I was a mindless puppet manipulated by unseen hands. JC's fingers traced my cheek, feathering over the single dimple I had in my right cheek, down my chin, pulling the paint along. His fingers dipped lower, over my throat, down past my collarbone, right onto my chest. He stared at me for a moment more, and I realised that he was simply studying the effect of the paint on me. He grinned suddenly, handed the paint to Dare and said, "Your turn."

I decided to just put up with it as JC took over the reins, so to speak, holding my wrists in his hands, so warm and gentle, while Dare bent over me, with that strange, sardonic smile that had so attracted me to him. He knew that too, the arrogant man. He continued where JC left off, dabbing the paint over my arms, around my neck and, then, he made a small spot right in the middle of my forehead. "There, all done," he said, satisfied at last. They let me up, scowling at them in mock sullenness, the paint already dried. It was strange to walk around with dried paint on your skin. It felt stiff -- as if plastic covered your skin -- but the paint didn't flake or anything.

The two of them were watching me, Cheshire-cat grins on their faces. I shook my fist at them. "And how am I supposed to wash this off? If I don't do it soon, it's gonna itch like hell." Dare snorted, and pointed below deck. "Use the bathroom if you want."

I rolled my eyes, and started down. It washed off pretty OK, at least, though there was the faintest tinge of blue on my skin. Other than that, nothing else was wrong. I headed up again to find JC and Dare still chatting on. I was quite thankful actually. They would only distract me.

What was that feeling I had experienced when I looked in JC's eyes? It didn't feel like attraction or love, but then, it was too capricious for me to even name it. All I knew was that something had changed when I looked into those eyes, when he had touched me -- though, innocently -- and I wasn't sure if I really liked the idea of the change that had occurred. I didn't want to lose him as a friend. I wasn't fool enough to make advances towards him but could I resist it if I was constantly near him? Could I? I turned to look at him. He was good-looking, true, but, perhaps more importantly, I liked him -- I genuinely liked him. He was fun to be with; he had a great sense of humour; he was considerate, kind and rather generous; in fact, he was all I ever wanted from any guy. But I didn't want to lose him as a friend.

I just stood there, looking at JC as he shared a joke with Dare. The flash of white teeth only made my heart ache more. I glanced around and saw we were about to reach the Marina soon, and I contented myself by folding myself on the deck floor, just thinking. I think Dare sensed that I wanted to be alone b'cos he deterred JC from looking for me a few times -- something for which I thanked Dare gratefully in my heart. When we docked -- if that's the correct word -- and Dare was waving us off, JC looked at me quizzically, "You were rather quiet during the last few minutes. Is something wrong?"

I forced a smile. "No, not really. I guess I'm just tired, ya know. Would you mind very much if I asked you to send me straight home?"

"Sure," he shrugged.

The drive home was even more quiet. I was upset -- and truth told, I didn't know why. It was just a nagging sadness at what might have been for me and Dare if things were just a little different, if things had worked out. That and JC's proximity. The wind whistling past my ears lulled me into a dream until I was half-awake, half-asleep. Things seemed so much clearer with the evening fast approaching. I could hear the crickets chirping away, a dense background of noise that was silent enough so as not to disturb but loud enough to be noticeable. The smell of JC's cologne: something fresh and spicy, lingering in the air like a cloud, subtle but there. The feel of the leather against my cheek. JC's hand just an inch away from mine. At that, I was startled back from sleep. All I had to do was to reach out, and hold his hand, to cradle those gentle fingers against mine. I wanted so much to do it. I wanted SO much! But even as my heart was yelling at me to do it, to just grab his hand, my mind -- that cursed brain of mine -- pointed out logically that as far as I knew JC wasn't gay, and if I did try to hold his hand, it might end up in my face, knocking me senseless. Well, maybe not the latter but it's always kinda hard to predict what a person will do.

I sighed. JC stirred at that sound, leaning over me and whispered, "Allie? You awake?"

Just smiling a little, I whispered back, "No shit!"

He laughed. "I thought you were but I wasn't sure. I was going to wake you but . . ." He hesitated, biting his lip -- an action that I found remarkably endearing.

"Go on," I motioned.

"Well . . . . it's about the Marina with Derek. You seemed just a little upset at the end of the ride. I mean, you isolated yourself, and you just kept staring out into space." Eyes which had been watching the road turned towards me, meeting mine. "What's wrong? Tell me, please."

I considered the matter. Should I tell him? If I didn't, it would only make him feel as if I didn't treat him like a friend, that I didn't trust him. Yet, could I? When so much of my problems were due to him? B'cos I knew now, surer that I ever was, that I was falling in love with JC. But if I told him a bit, enough to make him feel OK, I need not reveal the rest. Relieved, I frowned thoughtfully at what I could tell him. Suddenly, I hit upon an idea.

"Well, you see . . . ." I paused, kinda stuck. I looked at JC, and he just gave me an encouraging nod. "It's just that I haven't seen Derek for a long time and we parted less than amiably. Today, we resolved the problem but it got me to thinking if similar things had ever happened before. So, that's what I was doing -- worrying about that stuff." It sounded so lame, so much worse that when I had thought about it but it was a quick-shot plan.

"Oh," JC uttered, and I was bewildered to hear disappointment in his voice. Why would he be disappointed?

The rest of the drive progressed on, silence filling the void of our conversation. But, it wasn't the kind of awkward silence that seems to materialise between strangers who've run out of things to talk about. Rather, it was a comfortable silence between friends who are at ease enough not to find it awkward. That struck me as peculiar in itself. I was never much good in making friends. Yet, here I was, so comfortable with a guy who was so beautiful that I would normally be uncomfortable by just being with him. Instead, I was at ease, and so good friends with a guy I had just met -- what? Three days ago? That stunned me. Three days, yet I felt like I had known him forever. I was wrapped up in my own thoughts until JC stopped just right at the path that led to my home.

I grabbed my bag, stepped out, shut the door before leaning against it to look at JC. He looked just a bit tired, and I was rather guilty. He had spent a lot of time driving. "JC, thanks for the ride. It was really nice of you."

"Hey, I was the one who wanted a tour of the place. Now, I just want some dinner and some sleep." He stretched, yawning.

I grinned. "It's only six."

He rolled his eyes at me, and my grin became wider.

"Look, how about this? To thank you for your kind service as a chauffeur, I'll make you dinner at my place with or without your usual retinue of blonde friends and their brothers -- it's your choice. Say, about 8:30 tonight?" I asked him with an impish grin.

"Sure," he yawned. "Justin and Jonny won't be there, though. They'll be having dinner with their family. His parents have just flown in with Justin's youngest brother, and I'd hate to crash their reunion. Wait, what's for dinner first?"

I rolled my eyes and grimaced. "Stewed lizard and preserved slime."

JC looked up in interest. "Really? Is that what you eat all the time? No wonder you turned out this way," he said, looking me up and down with a critical eye.

"Like what?" I asked him warningly, silently laughing inside.

"I'd rather not say," he stated huffily.

My lips were twitching into a smile. "If you wanna know, we'll probably be having something simple like fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Go and get some sleep, OK? You look exhausted."

"And whose fault is that?" JC demanded.

I ignored him, and turned away before breaking into a huge smile, one that I had been dying to display. I walked up the path, hearing JC's Jeep zoom off into the distance. Well, tonight would be a good night, perhaps. I smiled again.

I swear that I really had no intention to plan a romantic dinner or anything like that. But, somehow, the lights just seemed to bright that night so I dimmed them. And, coincidentally, the music that I was playing were all love songs. Yeah, right. I had to face it. I was deliberately trying to make a move on JC so I had to undo a lot of things. I brightened the lights, turned on the TV, changed the music, and changed into my art-clothes: rather worn jeans, and a paint-stained white shirt, frayed around the edges. After messing about in the kitchen, I was ready -- and I still had about an hour or more to go before 8:30. So, I decided to do a little painting since I was dressed for it.

My studio is right behind my house, connected to building with a door. My work's there, both completed, and halfway. Not many halfways, though, b'cos I usually finished everything in one sitting. Made things so much easier. The studio also contains all those paintings that I considered too good to sell, and those masterpieces I kept in a little room for itself. The rest of the area is just empty space, with a raised wooden platform in the middle of the room for models, and various stands for canvases all around the area. Some of the canvases were blank but a few were half-finished and it was to one of these that I turned my attention to.

It was a very rough caricature of a shapeless form, staring thoughtfully into space. I had filled in the background so that the figure seemed to be in an archaic bedroom, draped over a chair, chin on hands, legs akimbo. But the features were absent. I didn't know what to fill in there but I knew what I wanted to see. The title of the painting was "Thoughts of Love" and I wanted to see a young man's face, filled with longing, desire, want, filled with the tender sorrow of wanting someone's love so much. But, again, I couldn't quite picture the face. I never really received formal training which is why I think my paintings are just a bit better. Sometimes, the artists from the traditional art schools just get so caught up within their hide-bound dictates of interpretation, contrast, quality, lighting, and the many techniques of bringing art to life, that I think they have forgotten how to really paint. To paint, you let your soul run free, to let imagination flow through your brush and shape the images that you want. Sometimes, I make a rough sketch of an image, and I paint over it -- usually for landscapes and still-life but for portraits, I don't use any sketches at all. I simply paint.

As I stood there, brush in one hand, hair pulled back, I saw a face in that blankness, a face I knew so well that I could paint it from heart. I started with the eyes, blue and warm, filled with joy and warmth, tinged with the slightest trace of emerald; eyes that seemed to yearn for companionship, that promised love beyond belief, eyes that said "I love you". The features, that straight, strong nose, the sensuous lips poised to speak -- and I imagined that voice, sweet and melodious, humming from within -- and the stubborn chin: all filled my heart with an aching emotion that threatened to make me weep. In the end, when I was done, JC's face stared out at me, thoughtful and pensive, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

Trembling, both inside and out, I raised a finger to touch the dry canvas, to trace those sweet lips, to try in some undefinable manner and imagine that I was really touching him in that way. I blinked as the world seemed to blur before my eyes, and was both surprised and horrified when tears seeped from my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. Oh, God! Why him, why him? And, why, oh, why now?

This couldn't be happening -- it couldn't! I was trapped, and I knew it. I couldn't run from this b'cos I knew that it would simply catch up with me; I couldn't deny it -- not when I knew it was certainty that filled me, filled me with that knowledge. What was I to do? Should I turn away from him? Should I just avoid him? If I did, my heart would break even more than Dare's had when I did that to him. Oh Lord, just help me!

I moved on to the other blank canvases then, simply painting, closing my eyes and letting my heart guide me. Ten canvases in less than 45 minutes -- and each was filled with JC. In some, he laughed, teeth flashing in the sunlight, eyes dancing in merriment; in others, he wore a quiet smile, sedate but so sweet, hands clasped at his side. Each one bore my heart, each one carried my soul. I felt so empty when I finished, my hands streaked with paint, smudges on my face, so damned empty -- but when I looked at his face, whether he smiled or laughed or grinned, I was filled with that same feeling. With love.

I sank to my knees, my heart aching even worse than it ever had. Oh, God, this was so much worse than Justin! It HURT! It HURT! But, I didn't want to give it up -- not that feeling that made me feel so alive, so wanted, so loved. I cried then, tears staining my cheeks, sobbing and rocking on the wooden floor, just thinking about nothing at all. I wept for a reason I didn't understand. And then, the bell rang.

I knew who it was, and that made it all the harder to bear. How could I face him after crying my eyes out b'cos I couldn't have him? Should I? I walked out of the studio, closing it firmly behind me, wiping away my tears. I stopped briefly in front of the mirror to check my appearance -- slightly blood-shot eyes but otherwise, I looked fine. I took a deep breath before walking to the door, and pulling it open.

"Hi!" JC said cheerily. He looked so wonderful in a crimson silk shirt tucked inside dark slacks, a black leather jacket slung over his shoulders. The blood-hue of his shirt only seemed to accentuate his natural fairness. He was stunningly gorgeous.

My heart was beating faster -- partly from him, and partly b'cos I could never deny what I felt for him now. "Hi! Come right in!" I said, a bit forced with cheerfulness. He looked at me, and his smile faded, replaced with concern. "What's wrong, Allie? You've been crying. What happened?" he asked, voice low and gentle, as if trying to shield what dignity I had left. "Did something bad happen --"

"No!" I said, shaking my head, then realised I had been a bit too vehement at my reply. "No, it was just --" I took a deep breath and continued. "If you must know, I was watching this show on TV and I just started crying. It was a soap but then I'm quite a wuss."

JC grinned. "I'll say!" I looked at him indignantly. "No, just kidding! That's happened before to me!"

Oh? That rather intrigued me that he would be so sensitive. "Really? When?"

He looked about, and in a hushed whisper, said, "When I was watching the MTV Awards."

I looked at him quizzically. "Why?"

Sighing exaggeratedly, he explained, "B'cos I thought it was tragic we didn't win Best New Group of the Year!"

I laughed at that. "You jerk!"

He smiled. "When's dinner?"

"You're just in time." I looked him up and down, and he followed my glance.

"What?"

"Don't you think you're a little overdressed?"

He looked at himself again. Grinning sheepishly, he placed his hand behind his head. "I guess you're right."

Laughing, I led him to the table, and brought out dinner. It was fairly fun. We were too busy eating to talk much, though we exchanged a few jokes. Halfway, he spilled some of the Coke I got him on his shirt, and he jumped up, cursing under his breath. I couldn't help it -- I laughed and laughed as he squeaked on about his shirt getting wet. He glared at me but I only laughed harder. Scowling, he asked, "Could I change or something?"

Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, I said, "Sure! Come along."

Taking his wrist, I pulled him along up the stairs to my bedroom, and then, I thought about what I was REALLY doing at that moment. I was taking him, someone I really liked, to my bedroom. Somehow, that felt incredibly uncomfortable; as if I was taking him into the most personal part of me. I glanced around to see how he was doing, and quickly turned back when I realised he had stripped off his shirt. His wrist felt like it was burning as I flushed, thankful that it was rather dim in my room as I guided him in. The barest glimpse I caught of his chest was enough to send my pulse racing, the blood suffusing my cheeks. Silently, I opened my closet, checking for a spare shirt, and finally handed him a denim blue shirt -- which I belatedly realised was actually one of Derek's. I averted my glance as I handed it to him, instead, studying my toes. The next time I glanced up, I found him fully dressed, staring at me in amusement. "You always this shy?" His voice -- in MY bedroom -- felt so seductive to my ears. I shivered, and rubbed my arms. "Can we go down now?" I asked him plaintively. He shrugged, and I turned to go.

Halfway, down the stairs, JC grabbed my arm, and said, "Allie, if you're done with dinner, can I see your studio -- or wherever you paint?" I bit my lip. "Sure!" He grinned in reply.

It took awhile to clear the stuff up, sticking leftovers in the fringe, before I led him to my studio. When he entered, he looked surprised, and I showed him all the paintings I was so proud of. The enigmatic lady clad in white whom I called "Alyssa"; the landscape I had done of Lake Tekapo during a sunset that I had called "Sunset on the Lake"; the blooming garden filled with flowers that I had dubbed "Eden"; and, perhaps, my favourite, "Lady of the Woods", a piece that depicted a snowy-white mare at the edge of a forest, head held high, mane blowing in the wind, with the barest hint of a spiral horn on its brow. He was quite impressed, I thought, and I was thankful that the paintings I had done of him were turned away so he couldn't see.

Just as I was studying one of the paintings, "Ophelia", showing a half-submerged girl clad in blue, I heard a half-strangled, half-whispered, "Allie!" I turned around, and saw JC staring at THOSE paintings, a look of surprise on his face. His eyes flickered to one nearby, and another, and another, until he must have seen all the eleven I had done. I groaned, my heart despairing. I walked towards him, and his eyes lifted to mine, a look of alarm and shock that pierced my heart. I paused at that look, my heart aching even more -- God, when will it stop? -- and as I started forward, JC babbled, "S-sorry, g-g-gotta go, OK ... See you s-soon or .. whatever!", and he ran out of there. I let him go, and hearing the front door slam shut, I slumped onto a nearby stool.

I felt dead inside. Dead. I looked up, my vision blurring. Crying! Again! "Are You happy now? Are YOU?" I shrieked at the last words, before fading off into sobs. I covered my eyes with my hands. Why? OH, GOD, WHY are You doing this to ME?

The next few days were the worst in my life. I couldn't rouse myself from my bed, often crying as I thought about him. Shon tried to get me up but after a while, she gave up in disgust. I was moping, I knew, but I felt so dead, like I couldn't live anymore. I couldn't eat, and I cried myself to sleep, waking up in the middle of the night, my pillow soaked with tears, murmuring his name. I tried calling him, but then I realised that I didn't have his number. It was torment for me in those five days. It was hell.

On the fifth night, as I stared at the moon outside, the phone began ringing. I was half-tempted to let it ring on but I walked over and picked it up. "Hello?" God, even my voice sounded dead.

"Allie?" My heart leaped at that voice. It was HIM! Oh, thank You, thank You, God!

"JC? Just listen to me, OK? Those paintings --"

"Allie? Just listen first. I want to talk to you -- personally. Do you mind if I come over right now?"

Mystified, but hopeful -- Could it be that he's forgiven me? -- that this was a good sigh, I managed to utter a "Sure!" before he hung up. Dazed, I hung up as well. What could this mean? Perhaps . . . Oh, please, don't fool yourself! I ran into the bathroom, too aware of how I looked, shaving the little bit of downy tufts that five days of neglect had resulted in, before changing after a quick shower. Hair still wet, I pulled on a sweater over my T-shirt, that read "Save the Whales!", before giving my hair a quick brush and running downstairs. Just in time, too, as the doorbell rang. I breathed in, walked over, and calmly opened the door. I always seemed to be opening doors for him. JC gave me a hesitant grin and walked in before shyly saying, "Hi."

I managed a "hi", too, as I looked him up and down. He looked as if he had just jumped in from a shower, too, his hair slightly damp, the top three buttons of his shirt undone. He was staring at me, too, and I shut the door and motioned for him to take a seat. He gestured for me to sit first, and I did so, wondering, when he sat right next to me.

Pulling his fingers through his hair, he began, "Allie, about Sunday, I have to apologise. I was acting like a jerk and I knew it -- but I was just taken by surprise." He looked me in the eye. "I hope you can forgive me for being such an ass."

I bit my lip. "It was my fault. I should have come clean with you -- I'm sorry I didn't. Can you forgive me, instead?" I looked at him. He grinned, and I was encouraged by that familiar trademark of his.

"How's this? If you forgive me, I forgive you."

"Done!" I said, and we both shook hands.

I looked at him for a moment, and then quietly said, "Does this change anything between us? Does it?"

He seemed to withdraw inside himself for a moment, and then he looked up at me. JC moved closer to me, so close that our thighs touched, and I shivered. This was becoming just a bit too intimate. When he spoke, his voice was serious, devoid of all the mischief that usually tinged his tone. "Allie, I have to confess something to you."

My heart soared at that prospect and sank as well. Was he trying to tell me what I think he was?

"I tried to understand what filled my heart every time I looked at you, and on Sunday, I finally found out." He looked straight into my eyes, holding me motionless. "It was love." I noticed, then, he was holding my hands in his warm grip, stroking my palm gently, his voice lower, almost hushed. "I never -- NEVER -- felt this way before . . . not for any girl, and definitely not for any guy. But, I know that I love you. Why? I don't really know and I don't really care." I trembled, and he felt it. He leaned towards me, whispering, "I love YOU, Allie" and his lips pressed against mine, caressing mine with a gentleness that was unbearable. My heart raced -- with desire, with love, with fear. I was scared. And my trembling increased.

His lips parted from mine, and I almost begged for him not to, but another part of me was thankful. "Why are you so frightened, Allie? Why?" he murmured, his lips trailing down my chin. My eyes welled again with tears -- I was disgusted with myself in a tiny corner of my mind -- and they fell. JC looked up. "What is it, Allie? Have I done something wrong? I didn't mean to --"

Blinking my tears away, I smiled. "No," I whispered, "No, it isn't you. It's me. You scare me so much."

He blinked, and I saw his eyes glisten in the darkness. "Why? Why do I frighten you so much? Tell me," he murmured huskily.

"The love I feel in you, for you -- that's what scares me so much. I would do anything --ANYTHING -- for you! Anything, just as long as you're happy. That frightens me, JC! That frightens me like hell!" I told him, my voice catching and breaking several times.

"Oh, Allie," he began, and was silenced as I pulled him towards me, pushing his lips onto mine. We spent what seemed a lifetime in that embrace, just holding one another, kissing sometimes, and doing what lovers do. When the radio played "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes", JC pulled me up, and we began dancing, just swaying along to the music. Maybe, that's what people like us really want -- maybe, as guys, we're just so tired of being the macho guys, of being invulnerable, that forces us to develop love like this. Maybe, we just needed to be intimate with someone much like ourselves, I mused as JC murmured sweet platitudes in my ear. And then, the song changed to Shania Twain's "Your Way".

I sang it, sang for JC, meaning every word I spoke.

"You've got a way with me

Somehow you got me to believe

In everything that I could be

I gotta say

You really got a way . . .

You've got a way, it seems

You gave me faith to find my dreams

You never know just what that means

Can't you see

The way you get thru to me . . . . "

JC's eyes seemed to glisten suspiciously, and I suspected that he was crying. I wasn't one to talk with tears seeping from my eyes. I just shut up, then, listening, my head on JC's shoulder, both of us silent. But then, we didn't need to speak. Just holding each other.

When we sat down, JC just stared at me, smiling tenderly, and I squeezed his hand gently. He squeezed back in reply, his smile becoming wider. But, I had something to talk to him about.

"JC . . ." I said, and began again, clearing my throat. "JC, I want to talk about the future." I looked up at him, my head tilted up from its original position on his shoulder. I could feel his chest, firm and muscled, beneath my back, a sensation that was distinctly erotic and, yet, so intimately personal.

"What about the future?" He kissed my ear, his hand stroking mine gently.

"Like, how are we going to be together? You'll be back in the States, and you have your group -- what about them? Do you think they'll accept us? How about your fans? If they found out about me, they'll just desert you!" I blurted.

He pressed his cheek against mine, his lips close to my ear. "Allie, I love you. It's as simple as that. We'll worry about all those problems when we come to it."

I bit my lip again. I wasn't reassured by that. He wasn't worried but I was. JC loved to perform, and if he lost his chance . . . . And, there was that thing about celibacy. Except that I was more tempted than ever to throw it into the winds, to lie with him. Maybe, thinking about sex was a bit immature, but that was perhaps the greatest evidence of love, the most concrete way to tell someone you love them. And if you loved somebody enough, wouldn't you throw away all your principles just to be with them? All I knew was that I loved him -- and that he loved me.

We stayed there for a few hours, just holding and kissing. It was a way to show each other how much love existed. JC kissed me goodbye around midnight, and as that kiss lingered on my lips with the taste of his lips, I began pondering about everything. I loved JC and he loved me. But his whole support base in fans were mostly made up of girls, and if they found out he loved another guy, they would dump him. And if that happened, JC would be crushed. No, it was too much to ask him to do for me, I decided. My heart HURT with what I knew I had to do. Oh, Lord, please give me the strength. and, JC, please forgive me.

I was nervous, and despairing. I was waiting by the far side of the lake, under a tree where I had arranged to meet JC. The sun was out, gleaming bright, casting warm beams on my face. It was exactly the wrong weather for what was about to happen. JC was about to show up any moment now, and I would have to break his heart. But the hurt that hurts the fastest is better than the one that hurts twice as long. Perhaps, I was selfish but I had to do what I had to do. For JC to be happy.

"Hello, Allie," JC said, and kissed me. I tried not to respond but I did, partially, and finally stopped. He parted, looking at me strangely. "What was that for?" He ran his fingers through his hair, and my heart spasmed in pain, as I remembered how I had run my fingers through his hair so many times after that first night. The week that had passed by just seemed to be the blink of an eye. All those memories. Shon had been delighted, of course, but I was aware of this day as an end to all those good times. I turned back from my reverie, looked into those eyes, remembering how happy I had been. There had been love -- both emotional and physical, though, the latter really meant, hugging and kissing, and stroking, and caressing -- but I wondered if it would now turn to hate for him.

"JC, we have to talk." I looked at him.

He looked troubled as he sank to the ground, sitting cross-legged. "Uh-oh. What's wrong?"

I hated what I was about to do. "Remember what I told you about Derek?" He nodded, remembering what I had said when I had come clean about Dare. I took a deep breath. "Well, I didn't tell you the whole truth. You see, Dare and I did have sex together, but he was concerned that it was all I wanted from him. So. we broke up."

JC had a pained look on his face. I wanted to comfort him but . . . Taking a deep breath, JC harshly asked, "Was it?"

"Of course," I answered glibly. A look of hurt flashed across JC's face. God, I can't do this! But, I must! "Well, Dare says that he's OK with the idea now, and I want to go back to him. I mean, he's fantastic in bed, and, frankly, while I was hoping that you would be an adequate replacement, just getting you to screw me is taking forever. So, I'm going back to him which mean that I want to break up."

I couldn't look at JC. He seemed torn between betrayal and the love that he bore for me. Licking his lips, he said, "Allie, please . . . . if you want me to, we can do it right here. Please just don't leave me . . . ."

I was weeping in my heart at that. God, this HURTS!! OH, JC, if you only knew . . . . I looked at him, an expression of scorn on my face. "No thank you. I don't think you'd quite measure up." JC looked defeated at that but his face hardened, and when he replied, his voice was biting and bitter. "It looks like I was wrong about you, Allie. I thought you loved me. Instead, you loved only . . . " he choked at that last bit, and he turned away, running back from where he came.

I turned my back, praying that he wouldn't look back, as I wept so hard. I gasped for air, my heart filled with pain. He thought I had BETRAYED him! Oh, God, I hate You for doing this to me and, especially, to JC! Oh, God, God, God . . . . I wept for so long until my tears dried. But, inside, I had died. I just couldn't feel anything anymore. Dazed, I staggered up the hill, falling and cutting myself on the sharp rocks, rising again, heading for my home where death awaited me. I couldn't live like this, I couldn't live with myself after what I had done. JC, just forgive me.

I stumbled into my home, dashing straight into the kitchen. I had planned everything except for this last bit. I thought I could live with what I had done but JC's face as he left had killed me inside. I turned on the stereo, and walked over to the cabinet where I kept all my knives. Perhaps, I would be damned for doing this but better an eternity of damnation than even one day living with the fact that I had hurt JC so badly. I was already in my hell. I picked up one long-bladed knife, one which I knew was sharp beyond belief. I braced myself, lifting it, posing the blade against my left wrist, and with one quick, hard movement, I pulled the edge along my wrist, cutting so deep. The pain that assailed me caused me to drop my knife but it was nothing compared to what I had felt. Oh, JC, JC . . . . perhaps, in time you will forget me. I had a dim recollection of dropping onto the tiled kitchen floor, and I was surprised at the pool of blood that had already appeared. It looked so red, and there was so much of it. I couldn't quite believe it. The pain had already faded into a strange numbness, as if I was losing all feeling in my arm. As I lay there, I heard Mary Chapin Carpenter softly singing over the radio. It was a suitable song.

"What do you get when you fall in love

A guy with a pin to burts your bubble

That's what you get for all your troubles

I'll never fall in love again . . .

Oh, what do you get when you kiss a guy

You get love germs to catch pneumonia

And after you do, he'll never phone ya

I'll never fall in love again . . ."

Maybe, JC, you'll be glad that I've left you. You should. I'm nothing but trouble.

"Don't tell me what it's all about

I've been there and I'm glad I'm out

Out of those chains, the chains that bind you

And that is why, I'm here to remind you . . . .

I'll never fall in love again

I'll never fall in love again . . . ."

Suddenly, dimly, I heard the front door open, and Shon's voice rang out. "Allie, I just ran into JC, and he told me the strangest story -- OH MY GOD!! Allie, you fool, what did you do? Why? Oh, God, oh GOD!!" She sounded hysterical and I was going to tell her that when I fell into a dark hole that swallowed me up, and I knew no more.

I groaned at the light. And realised, there was none. Someone stirred at that sound. "Allie?" It was a voice that made my eyes fill with tears.

"Why, why did you let me live? Why didn't you just let me die?"

JC's face came into view, haggard, and drawn, but, God, so beautiful, his eyes warm with concern and tenderness, and, I was shocked to see, love. He touched my face with his fingers, and I welcomed it, accepting that warm touch.

"Why did you try to fool me? Dare told me the truth, that he and you never . . . and that you never made any proposition to him. Why? Am I so distasteful that you had to suicide in order to be away from me?" His voice was tinged with self-loathing and I hurried to intervene, to explain.

"No! It wasn't you, it was me. I wanted you to be rid off me b'cos I would only drag you down." He kept silent and I plunged on, frantically. "You must believe me! If anyone ever found out about you and me, they could blackmail you, or if your fans found out, they'll hate you! And, then, how could I live with myself. That one week I gave us so that we'd have the memories, and I broke up so that you'd be free. Only," and my voice sank to a whisper, "only, I hated myself for how much I couldn't live with myself -- " I broke off with a choke as my emotions overcame me, clutching at his fingers, murmuring, "You have to believe me . . . ."

JC was silent, and I was crushed. He hated me, I knew it, I knew it, and I was about to close my eyes and turn away when JC kissed me lightly. "Oh, I believe you," JC whisper-ed to me. "But you had no right to choose for me, Allie Wu!" His voice was tinged with anger, and I blinked in surprise. I had never seen JC angry before, not once in the short -- and long -- time I had known him. I was incredulous. "I choose for myself. I'm an adult, Allie, and I don't need anyone to make my decisions for me. If I want to love you, then I shall, and nobody can stop me!" He looked at me, anger apparent in every line of his face.

"JC, I'm sorry." I looked at him. He relaxed slightly and I pressed on, stroking his hand gently, trying to show him how much I really loved him, how much I really cared. I stared at my left wrist for a moment. It was bound up in gauze, and looked to be OK, but as I flexed it, a sudden pain flared through my wrist. I ignored it. "I never did think properly when my emotions were concerned but all I wanted was the best for you. That's all -- for you to be as happy as you can ever be!"

JC stared into my eyes, and smiled suddenly, tenderly. "You are the best for me, Allie, and you make me happy, happier than I've ever been before."

I was filled with love, filled with joy. He still loved me. I raised his hand to my face and kissed his palm gently, flicking my tongue over it. He laughed, and kissed me, before murmuring, "You better not do that. Everybody can see you."

Belatedly, I looked around. To my right was a window, and I could see Shon, Jeff, Dare, Justin, and Jonny staring at the two of us, and grinning. I flushed with embarrassment. JC looked at me and laughed again. "If you want to know, the guys are fine with this and they really want to meet you. I think you'll like them."

I turned my eyes back to him. "You mean that you're . . . ."

JC grinned. "I'll still be doing shows in the States, and everything, but I'll be living here. I'm applying for citizenship here. When I'm on tour, you can always come along or stay here. Either way, I know that I'll have you close to me."

I smiled back at him. "But what about the future?"

JC shrugged. "What about it?" For a moment, I only sputtered in outrage and indignation but before I could speak, JC sighed and told me, gently and tenderly, " No one can look into the future, Allie -- except God, of course -- but I know that I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I don't care what everyone else thinks, and we might be forced to keep it a secret but I want you to know that after you, nothing else is important to me -- not anymore. Not my career, not my friends, too, if they can't understand how much I really love you, and how I really am. If they can't deal with that, then perhaps it's better for all of us if I got better friends. But luckily," he said with a sigh, "all they guys can accept it. They are my truest friends."

I patted his cheek and that was the signal for the others to file in. Jonny was happy to see me, though Justin had to stop him from bouncing on the bed. Justin looked at me for a moment, not doing anything, then bent close to whisper by my ear, "Congrats to the two of you. Just love him, Allie, as much as you can." Shon winked incessantly at me until Jonny asked if there was something wrong with her eye at which I laughed aloud. Jeff just wished me good luck, and cautioned me not to do anything foolish anymore. It was Dare whom I rather dreaded. How would he feel to know that I had accepted another? He stared at me with those brilliant blue eyes while JC teased Jonny and the others looked on.

Dare sat by my side and looked at me. I looked back and he smiled. "So, you found love at last."

"Dare, I --" I began but was cut off by Dare as he said, "Don't bother, Allie. I can see how much you love him, and, truth told, I think he's better for you -- much better than I could ever be. Just love him, OK? And forget that bullshit about your principles. Love him with all that you have."

He grinned wryly. "We might have something together but I think I'm quite over you. There is this other guy I have seen. Do you know him? His name's Benj . . . "

I gasped. I knew Benj! Hmmm . . . "Yeah, I know him, and you're damned accurate. In fact, I happen to know that he's just broke off with a long-time paramour. He's quite a bit lonely, you know, and, well, maybe you could cheer him up." He laughed and kissed me on the cheek. And from the corner of my eye, I noticed JC staring at Dare, turning his gaze from Shon to Dare, and again. I smiled. He was jealous!

When they were all gone, JC sat by my side after lowering the blinds, and locking the door. "Well, how is everything now?" he asked me, a grin on his face.

"Settled," I said contentedly. I stretched, and JC grabbed my wrists, gently with my left, and pushed them to my side as he straddled me. He kissed me, roughly, pressuring my lips with his, seductive and gentle at the same time. His fingers unbuttoned the white hospital clothing I wore, and I could only gasp, "What are you doing?"

He glanced at me. "I'm making sure that I really own you now. By the way, I'm quite like you in terms of experience. Tell me if I do anything wrong."

"Are you crazy?" I demanded. I was a little surprised at that last bit of information -- happy that I was his first as he would be mine.

"Only about you."

JC pulled off his shirt and began tugging at his belt. "Besides, I'm always curious as to what it would be like doing it on these beds."

I didn't reply. Neither did. We didn't need any words to prove our love or to show it.