“What I got you got to give it to your mama!”

“JC...”

“What I got you to got to give it to your papa!”

“God...”

“What I got you got to give it to your daughter/ you do a little dance and then you drink a little water!”

Callie sighed and giggled, and gave up trying to control the music. She had already relinquished the right to drive him around, since her driving made him pray the rosary, and he wasn't even Catholic. Since JC was driving, he claimed he got to control the music, even though it was her MP3 player plugged into the stereo system.

“You don't have anything like, eclectic on this thing,” he said, scrolling through her play list. “Where's all the good stuff?”

“On YOURS. I haven't updated it in a long time. I haven't bought music in a long time.”

“We need to fix that, honey. Music is our lifeblood!” he said dramatically, and then stared at her. When she didn't react, he went back to trying to drive and scroll the music player.

“What time do we have to be at your parents?”

He shrugged, eyebrows raised. “Timing's loose, so whenever. Why?”

“Detour. Take a right up here at this light.”

JC felt the energy in the car change slightly, and he started to get an idea of where they were going. He turned the music down, switched lanes and took a right turn where she had indicated and drove until she told him to take a left and then pulled into the parking lot of a cemetery.

“You don't have to come, if you don't want to. I just haven't been out here in awhile.”

“No, it's OK. I'll go with you. Lead the way.”

Callie and JC exited the car and she led him across the neatly manicured lawn, past the crosses and headstones standing stately and serenely, in rows and rows and endless rows. Finally, she stopped at a plot, marked by a smooth granite headstone and engraved 'Charles Phelps'. Underneath his name was his date of birth and death and underneath that, an engraved saying 'May the Music Move You'. It was his sign off message, said every night as he stepped off stage.

She busied herself clearing the long dead and wilted flowers that she had brought at her last visit, and wiped leaves and loose grasses off of the headstone. Satisfied, she stepped back, next to JC and reached for his hand, lacing her fingers in his.

“My dad would have liked you, a lot.”

He glanced over at her, and back to the massive structure. “You think?”

“I know. You have the same... I dunno the same kind of dedication, to the sound. The same fire, the same love. And the same smile,” she said, grinning up at him. “It's what I like about you the most.”

“Well, thanks. I'm honored you would say that.”

“I can just imagine the two of you making music together. That would have been awesome, to see. He'd want you to release something though. Soon.” She looked up at him and winked.

“Oh, would he now?” he asked, smiling down at her. “Would he want that or would you?”

“Both of us.” Callie nodded, and then sighed. “Okay. I just wanted to come out here. It had been a while, and we were close.”

“No problem. I wouldn't dream of rushing you so if you want to hang out awhile, I'm cool.”

“I'm good. Thank you,” she said, starting her return to the car, still holding his hand, now wrapping her other hand around his arm and leaning her head on his shoulder. They walked back to the car in silence, ending at her side of the car. Before he opened her door, he turned to her, looked her in the eye and asked, “you okay?”

She nodded, and smiled, a real genuine smile. He leaned down and kissed her, a real genuine kiss. And then, really, genuinely, said, “I love you, Callie.”

Callie's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and sat there, in a cold lump. It wasn't so much that she was horrified, but-- well she was kind of horrified. She didn't think they were quite on that level and hadn't expected or assumed or even so much wanted that from him. Her mouth opened, but words didn't come, so she closed it.

“It's not like I said I was a serial killer. Why do you look so scared?” He teased her, opening her door. “You'll get used to it. Get in the car.”

Speechless and a little bit dazed, she slid into her seat and fastened her seatbelt. He got in on his side, and pulled out of the parking lot and back the main road that would take him to his parent's home. He seemed cheerful, chattering about... something...even singing along to the low music, maybe relieved that he'd got that off his chest. Callie wasn't sure what she was feeling, but cheerful and happy were far from a description of what was going on inside her head.

Dinner was a blur. She vaguely remembered smiling and laughing and talking and joking but the entire time, all she heard, echoing back to her were those words. Those words she hadn't expected and was kind of trying to avoid, for no particular reason, except that it meant maybe that she would have to make some sort of commitment, and having spent five years following Curtis around like a puppy dog, she was inclined to do no such thing. She had no desire to be known as JC Chasez' girlfriend, so no one would pay any attention to her music or what she was doing, only be concerned about what was happening in her bed.

“So, you're awful quiet. Did I upset you, with what I said?” he asked, after their shower and falling into bed.

“I just wasn't expecting that. I didn't think we were doing that,” she answered quietly.

He laid on his side, propped up on an elbow. A finger did a long, slow drag down her arm.“Doing what, really liking each other?”

She pulled away-- it tickled, which he knew, and she didn't want to laugh. “Really liking each other is very different from loving each other, JC. Don't pretend you meant that in a casual way. That's way beyond what we're doing right now.”

“Well, how long did you think it was gonna be before felt something real for you?”

“I didn't realize you were gonna feel anything that real for me. I mean... I can't... I can't do the love thing. I just, I can't. If you're gonna be asking for a commitment and... more than what we're doing now, then we should just break it off before you get disappointed. I need something way more casual, way less committed than that.”

Silence and tension filled the room. That was certainly not what he had been expecting to hear from her, though he didn't know why he was surprised. This was Callie, after all. Unpredictable, brash, pushy, rude, outspoken, sometimes selfish Callie. Did he think he'd changed her? Obviously not.

“Is this about Curtis? About the stuff he said to you?” he asked.

Callie let out an exasperated breath. “NO. It is not about Curtis. It is about me, and you, and what I need and I thought what you needed, too. What happened to 'just playing it by ear, nothing too deep, let's just have fun?”

He huffed, blowing out a short breath. “Okay, you know what? You wanted me to get pissed sometimes? I'm pissed. Someone says they love you, and you find everything wrong with that, when it should be good news. I am playing by ear and I am having fun and sorry if I happen to love you. I can't help what I feel.” He stared at her, for any kind of reaction, which didn't come.

“I'm sorry I even said anything. I thought you'd want to hear it. You want your way? Fine. If you want to split up,we'll split up. I'll change my ticket and head out in the morning.” He rolled over and yanked the covers up over his shoulder and refused to say more.

When Callie awoke in the morning, he was gone.

***

Ginny ran to pick up a roll of paper towels to mop up the coffee that Callie had unceremoniously tossed to the floor. “Callie, I'm sorry, I thought you'd want some--”

“Well, I don't! Just bring me a bottle of water. You know what, never mind, just leave me alone. Everyone, just get out, and leave me alone!”

It had been three weeks since he disappeared from her life, since he told her he loved her and she was a bitter, evil, brat of a girl, and everyone was paying for it. Callie was wreaking havoc and making headlines and everyone she came into contact with miserable. She was moody and seemed angry all the time and at night she did nothing but alternately rant and throw things, or stare at the TV or the wall or out of the window as the occasional tear slid down her face.

“It's for the best, Paula. I told you I'd hurt him,” she whined into the phone.

“That's the biggest load of bullshit, ever, and you know it. You're the only woman I know that runs away from I love you. What's wrong with him saying that? What's wrong with him feeling it? I thought you wanted him?”

“I did. I do. I did. I had him and I was happy till he said that, and then I felt trapped and I felt like he was gonna try and tie me down and I just couldn't handle that.”

“Okay, and so sitting around being a bitch to everyone you know and don't know is being better off without him? Maybe he should tie you down. I wish you could have seen yourself when you were with him. I hadn't seen you that smiley and happy since your father was alive.”

Callie snorted. “That's because I was having sex. Sex makes people act like that.”

“Stop it. You weren't like that with Curtis. I don't know how to explain it. But you're miserable, now. You don't see that?”

Of course she'd seen it. She felt it. She was living it. She was wrapped up in it, all day everyday, and slept to escape it. Filled her schedule to avoid it. Occupied her mind so she didn't have to think about it.

“Well, are you going to the Grammy's?”

“I'm nominated. So, yeah I guess.”

“You think you'll see him there?”

“I don't know. I don't want to. I haven't seen him since he left.”

“You really don't want to? Or scared to? Scared you might give in and go back to him?”

“No more soap operas, Paula. It doesn't work like that in real life. I doubt he even wants me back, now. I need to go. I'm tired.”

“I'm sure he wants you back. He said the 'L' word. I told you he wanted you, I know these things. Just think about it. There's a better life than what you're living, hon. It would be very easy to fix.”

Callie tossed and turned at night, never really able to sleep much. She dreamt about him at night, and had day dreams about him during the day. A hundred, thousand, million times she reached for the phone to call him, in the end cursing herself and putting it away.

The Grammy Awards show came and went. She attended the show but didn't see him there. Watched for him out of the corner of her eye while talking at a few after parties, but didn't see him. She didn't win for Best Female Artist, but hadn't expected to-- not with Christina and Kelly dominating the female pop chart. It didn't really bug her but she'd have liked to have at LEAST one statue before she was done with music.

The US leg of her tour finished and she set about making loose plans to travel overseas. Happy Feet 2 was released, so she attended the red carpet premiere. Her second and third singles from 'Charlie' topped the charts consecutively and Rag Doll marked her second number one hit from the album. Callie delighted in knowing that Curtis was dead wrong about only having one number one song, but the whole reason that song was a hit was somewhere in LA, without her.

Callie had the world in the palm of her hand, but she was miserable. If she didn't have to get out of bed, she wouldn't. She'd lay there and stare into the air and think and cry and feel sorry for herself-- it was a good thing she had a lot of work to do. She tried to entertain the thought of dating but the thought sickened her. She just couldn't see stepping out there, and she didn't have time, anyway.

When her schedule could afford it, she escaped to the comforts of home. She spent one whole night in her fuzzy socks, re -watching movies she had watched with JC. She looked and felt awful, so when a loud knock came at the door, she had no intention of opening it. But the knock was insistent, and whomever it was wouldn't go away.

Furious, Callie stomped to the front door and threw it open.

“WHAT?!” she screamed, then her breath caught at the top of her throat. It was JC. Her heart sighed, and she fought to not give it away.

“What do you want? I look like shit. WHAT?”

JC looked amused. Her tantrums had never really affected him much. He tilted his head to the left and smiled.

“Hi Callie. Not feeling good?”

She crossed her arms and stood in the door. “I feel fine. What?”

“I just came by to see you. Say hi and stuff. And to take these for a spin!” He grinned and kicked his leg up to show off a pair of bright pink fuzzy socks. It took everything in her to not laugh. “ Can I come in?”

“No. I'm busy.”

“Doing what? Being miserable? Step aside, Miss Callie. I brought you a pair.”

“I don't-- fine. Fucker, ” she fumed as he brushed past her, and closed the door behind them. It irritated her how much her mood lifted, just seeing him. She didn't NEED him. This was ridiculous.

“Thank you!” he said, dropping a bag onto the nearest chair and shrugging out of his jacket.

“So, what are you doing up here?” Callie cleared the couch of her blanket and books and remote and pillows so he could sit.

“I came to see you. Specifically.”

“Right. 'Cause we've talked so much, since we broke up.”

'Do you think you can put the bitch away, for just a second? Give the man a chance.'

“True, we haven't talked much. Or, at all. I've heard about you, though.” He shook a finger at her, then his expression softened. “I've missed you, Callie.”

Callie pouted, then found a loose thread in the blanket to play with. “Why? I'm such a bitch. You tell me you love me and I find everything wrong with that.”

“You're not a bitch. I just hit one of those walls you have up. I was hoping that... well, I was hoping if I just left you alone for awhile that you might come around. How's that going?”

She laughed a short, bitter laugh.

He yanked the blanket out of her hands and tossed it on the chair behind her. “Can we talk about it? Without like, yelling at each other? And getting pissed?”

“Everything with you was different,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I liked that. I liked it a lot. I wasn't ready to hear that, from you, though. I guess I totally missed the signs. And...” she paused, and glanced up at him. “I'm not ready to feel it.”

“But you do? She nodded, after a moment.

“And you don't want to.” She shook her head, slowly, no. “But-- I didn't want to like you either, when I met you. Remember how awful I was?”

“Vividly,” he answered, a little too quickly and she glared. “But...so... you think I could win you over, now?”

“Maybe. I just don't want to be like... tied down, right now. I don't want to have to run everything I do through you and I don't want to be expected to be at your side if I have five free seconds and I'm not... I'm not gonna run after you like a loyal puppy dog. I spent a long time doing that, and I hate that I did it and I won't do it again.”

“Have I ever asked you to? All I ever wanted was to spend time with you. No was always an option. I'm not trying to tie you down. Whatever idea you have in your head, I didn't put it there. We didn't talk about that. I just said I loved you, and your mind went running.”

Callie tried to think of something to say, an argument, something that would make sense of this time she'd been punishing herself. Her thoughts shot back to recording 'Let's Start Over', when she felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, willing herself to just jump off, to something new and something free and something different. This could be her jumping off point, if she'd let herself do it.

'It's not lame to be happy, you twit, to do what you want to do, to love someone. It's lame to toss that away and live in misery, when it's the one thing you want the most. Take it!'

“I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere,” she said suddenly, and ran through her bedroom, to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She stripped, showered quickly, washed and towel dried her hair and opted not to put her contacts in. He did, after all, like the one green eye she had. She slipped on a tee shirt and a comfy pair of lounge pants and went back out to the living room where he was flipping through channels aimlessly.

“I have something to say,” she said, pressing the 'off' button on the remote and sitting next to him. He sat up, blue eyes fixed on her.

“Two things. First, I meant what I said, that my dad would like you. But the one thing he would tell you is to get back to the music, your first love, the sound. It's where you belong. I will not let another year go by without you releasing something, even if we have to do a song together.”

He blinked, unresponsive for a moment. “You're bossy," he finally blurted out. "Second?"

She couldn't help the smile. “Okay, dammit. I love you. But... I feel like I keep making the same mistake over and over, and I was just trying not to do that again. And yeah, Curtis scared me. He made me think I was selling out and losing my edge and I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose myself, I don't want to become warm and sweet, I want to stay me. ”

“Honey, I will throw, like, a serious DIVA fit if you become warm and sweet. I like you feisty.”

Sweeter words were never spoken, and Callie was sure she loved the man that spoke them. “You mentioned that. And yeah, I know. The green eye is hot. Where are my socks you promised me?”

He dug into his jacket pocket and produced an identical pair, which she put on immediately. “So, uhm...congrats on your second #1. We didn't celebrate that, yet. And your Platinum sales. We didn't celebrate that, either.”

“Well, we can't just pick up where we left off. Least I don't think we should.”

“Where should we pick up, then?”

She winked, and leaned close to him, and whispered, “Let's start over.”

He laughed and stuck out his hand. “Sure. Hi, my name is JC. Nice to meet you, Callie.”

Callie grasped his hand and pulled him toward her. “I wasn't thinking we'd go back quite that far,” she said and for the first time in months, leaned in to kiss him.

***