Callie sat on the bed in her hotel room, back against the headboard, feet stretched out in front of her and clad in  fuzzy socks. She felt trapped and claustrophobic, but had been asked to stay in for awhile until the crowd outside the building could subside. Somehow, the fans always knew where she was staying, and were gathered around the front of the hotel, making Callie wish she’d let Jason hire security. If it got any worse, she’d take him up on it—if she could find him. He took off hours ago and she hadn’t heard from him since.  

She stared blankly at the TV screen, not really watching it. To pass the time, she tried to write, but her notepad and pen had long since rolled out of her fingers and now lay empty next to her on the bed. Callie checked the phone again and again and again.

‘There’s nothing wrong with the phone. He just hasn’t called.'

Callie hadn’t seen JC in almost a month. She didn’t WANT to miss him. To want to see him. To want to spend time with him. She just did. She had stopped fighting her feelings for him—she just didn’t know what to do about them. Since their meeting with the label was approaching, they’d kept in touch but communication was erratic and ‘surface’. Callie looked forward to just seeing his face, his eyes crinkle when he smiled, hearing his laugh in person, and letting him calm her fears and nervousness about how the next day would go.

A light ‘taptaptap’ came, finally, and Callie hopped up to check the door. ‘Calm. Calm. Breathe. It’s just JC.’ After a breath, she cracked the door enough to peek out. There he stood, casually dressed in dark jeans, a t-shirt and a fleece pullover. Callie could hardly contain her excitement to see him.

“What?”

“What, what? Let me in, woman! Hurry, before someone comes.”

Callie stepped back and swung the door open, allowing him to step inside.  “When did you get here? Did you see that crowd out front?”

“I, like, JUST got here and checked in. Yeah I saw the crowd, we came in around back.”

“I came in through the back, too. Somehow they knew I was here. I suspect Jason had something to do with this, but I can’t prove it.” Callie glanced through the sheer curtains toward the street and screams rose from outside. She rolled her eyes and drew the heavy curtains closed.

“Have you been trapped in here all day?”

Callie nodded. “They asked me to stay in until the crowd went away. It’s not happening. ”

“Keep checking the window like that and they won’t," he said, taking a seat on the corner of her bed. "How are you?”

“Nervous,” Callie admitted, resuming her spot against the headboard. “I tried to write, even. Nothing.”

“Oh man. Must be pretty bad. You can write songs about toilet paper, I hear.” Callie smiled despite her queasy stomach. This is what she’d been looking forward to—someone who could make her smile and forget her troubles.

JC reached out and played with her toes inside the colorful and soft sock material. “You pulled out the fuzzy socks? Did you bring some for me?”

“You know I did,” Callie grinned, pointing at her suitcase. "They’re right on top. Put ‘em on, get up here.”

Now twins in fuzzy socks, JC and Callie sat on the bed and talked far into the night. Some catching up, some dreaming of the future, some personal exploration. Callie was entranced by the mere sound of his voice, no matter what he was saying. She had only to ask him a question and he would talk into oblivion until she wasn’t even really listening anymore. Somehow the conversation drifted to topics more personal and Callie dared to ask the question on the tip of her tongue and the front of her mind.

“So, you don’t like… date at all?” Callie hoped the question was casual enough. Just in case, she didn’t look at him—rather, she became deeply engrossed in a loose thread in the comforter.

“I date. It’s just… hard sometimes. I mean… to date in the business is hard because we have such crazy schedules. To date outside of it…”  he sighed and seemed to want the conversation to end, but kept going.

"It’s like… I try to be real with people and I feel like all I get is fake back.  I mean, every girl says ‘I wish celebrities acted like real people, and didn’t expect perfection and talked about more than themselves and the business’. I try to be that and do that-- I can't be anything other than ME, you know... but then I'm boring because I’m not namedropping and all about who I know… or cheap because I don’t drop money on them like they want me to, like they deserve that just because I know them.  Even if I meet someone I really like, I don’t have the time to dedicate to her like I really want to. It's not fair to her, but I really AM that busy.  I work all night, sleep all day, travel at the drop of a hat.  I dunno... I’m not looking for a girlfriend, right now. I just don’t want to deal with it.”

Callie nodded, her heart breaking. ‘It’s a good thing you didn’t tell him anything back in Chicago. He’d have shut you down. Good girl. Now shake it off.’

“What about you? It’s been awhile since you and Curtis broke up. Anyone out there for you?”

“Well, I spent two months with this dork, recording my album,” she answered, with a snort shooting him a smile though she wanted to cry. “Other than that, it’s been so busy, I don’t even think I’d notice anyone right now.”

“Do you want to date? I mean, just in general, not a heavy relationship thing?”

Callie shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s nice to have someone to come home to, so to speak. Someone who’s always there and who cares about you, and knows you. And who won’t scream while you drive. " She looked up and winked at him, then went back to her loose thread.

"But… like you said, it’s hard, because I'm always going going going, or sleeping. And it’s hard knowing who wants to get close to me because they want to be friends and who wants to get close because they want something. And a lot of times guys--especially guys in the industry-- want… something... and nothing more. I like to say I’m a bitch, not a slut.”

“Callie, you’re not a bitch.”

“Tell that to everyone who’s ever called me ‘That Bitch Callie Phelps’.”

“Well, yeah but you don’t have to embrace that. Why would you take that on as some kind of identity? That’s not you. Okay, so you’re brash, outspoken, opinionated, blunt, spunky, impatient—“

Callie smacked him on the arm but laughed loudly. “Okay! God!”

“I’m just saying… but you’re not a bitch. You just… put up a wall. And you don't let anyone get close to you. And you don’t want anyone to see through the wall, or climb over it or pick through it. You don’t want anyone on the other side of that wall without your permission, and not many people get permission. It's understandable.You just never know what people want from you, and you’re more likely to get screwed over.”

She nodded thoughtfully, taking his words in. “Yeah. I had a lot of friends, at one time. But they sort of… faded away after awhile. When I couldn’t come home as often, and I couldn’t bring them all out on the road with me, and I wasn’t sending expensive shit back to them… they decided there weren’t any perks to being my friend. Eventually they stopped taking my calls. Stopped sending emails. Stopped being there. Sometimes I go home and cry into my pillow about being lonely, and then I remember-- I counted on people who couldn't be counted on. I thought I had people who cared about ME, but they only cared about what I could BRING to them. So, for a long time, I’ve been on my own. By myself.  The only one obligated to care about me is ME. So, I have to protect myself.” 

“I care about you.”  JC’s voice was soft and low, his tone earnest. He laid a hand over hers as she fiddled with the loose thread and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Callie turned her hand over and he laced his fingers between hers. For a short moment she enjoyed the feeling of her small thin hands in his large, strong ones. Then, before her heart could start wishing and hoping again, she let go and stretched, just for something to do with her arms.

“I'm pretty tired. I’m gonna go to bed, so get out.”

“There’s that love you have for me, rearing its head.” JC stood and stretched, gathering up the fleece pullover he’d pulled off.  Callie’s eyes were drawn to the patch of skin that showed as his shirt lifted, tracing the line of hair into the band of his jeans.

“Don’t stare at my gut. I need to hit the gym,” he said, patting his belly. It made a funny, flat sound that amused him and he repeated it on his way to the door.

“Your gut is fine. Stop that.”

JC turned before opening the door and surprised Callie by sweeping her into a hug. “You’re gonna be fine, tomorrow. Get some good sleep.  Meet me downstairs at ten and we’ll ride over together, okay?”

She nodded, and he surprised her again by dropping a light kiss on her forehead before opening the door and walking out.  She locked it and heaved a giant sigh.

‘Why does he confuse me with stuff like that? ARGH!’

...

Ten am found Callie standing in the lobby of her hotel, behind a large burly man with shoulder length curly blonde hair. The crowd outside had dispersed but was back with a vengeance that morning and the hotel manager was on the verge of calling the police.

“I’m not going out there,” Callie said, looking up at the security detail that Jason managed to arrange.

“No ma’am, you are not. Sit tight. Move away from the door so they can’t see you,” he said, directing her to the seating area in the lobby. The ding of the elevator announced JC’s arrival and he looked around, shocked.

“Whoa. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I came down here and it was…. like that,” Callie said, pointing at the crowd outside the window.

“Callie, we had the car pull around back, to the underground entrance. Let’s go. JC, you riding with us?” Jason ushered them all into the elevator and pressed ‘B’.  Callie, JC and Jason piled into one car. The security detail followed close behind. Through the blackout windows Callie could see a throng of people pressing toward the front entrance of the hotel as the car crept past them.

“I think we should move hotels, Jason. And this time don’t tell all your friends where you’re staying so you sound cool.”

“I didn’t tell anyone we were staying here, Callie. You DO have fans, with message boards, you know. There IS hotel staff involved. Not everything that fucks up in your life is my fault.”

“Let’s… let’s calm down,” said JC, coming between them and silencing them both.  “I feel like I’m talking to two kids. You’re both too old to act this dumb. Jason, I agree Callie needs to move and the move needs to be confidential. Can you take care of that?”

Jason sighed heavily, pulled out his cell and began to make phone calls. Callie glanced at JC and found him looking at her. A lift of his eyebrow seemed to ask if she was okay. She winked to let him know she was, and mouthed ‘thank you’, to which he offered a small smile and looked ahead.

 ***
“Callie, good to see you again. JC, you as well. Jason, everyone, have a seat.”

It was a very ‘us against them’ feeling… on one side of the table sat short men in dark slacks and white shirts rolled up to the elbows as if they had been called away from backbreaking work cranking out the hits to attend this meeting. On the other side were Callie, JC, and Jason, prim and proper in suits and dress, ready to talk business.

“So, let’s just get down to it. Tell us about the new songs you’ve been working on, and the work you did with JC.”

Callie launched into a short speech she had prepared, taking ‘the suits’ on the journey from writing to recording the four songs that they would play. JC had great input and they played off each other comfortably. Heads on the other side of the table nodded, and Callie didn’t sense any negativity or hesitance.

“It sounds like you’re excited about what you’ve brought, so let’s hear something.” In unison, they each sat forward, pens down, hands clasped, elbows on the table. ‘Like fucking robots,’ thought Callie.

JC moved to the sound system built into the entertainment center in the room and played each of the songs he had brought, making a short introduction before each one.  He was saving Let’s Start Over for last, hoping it would blow them away.

“This last song is one that Callie wasn’t even gonna record, but I talked her into it because I think, and I want to know how you guys feel about it, but I think it’s a hit. It’s called Let’s Start Over, it’s totally classic Callie sound with a heavy rock flavor… it’s ballad-y without really being a ballad, is what I like about it… so… here we go.”

Callie bowed her head, wanting to see their reaction to the song, but afraid of what it would be. JC nudged her. She looked up at him and he winked. She smiled in return and sat forward as the guitar chords seemed to jump out of the speakers and her sultry, melodic voice sang over them.  Callie could already see their heads bobbing, lips being bitten, imagined feet tapping. One ‘suit’ started writing as he listened. The other three didn’t move as verse two passed and the track built up to the chorus. As Callie’s voice nearly screamed out over the full sound, she saw slow smiles spread across a few faces. JC was rocking out in his chair and Jason was practically head banging.

‘Am I the adult, now?’ Callie thought, laughing to herself.  If she was pressed… forced… she had to admit that Let’s Start Over was likely the best song she’d ever written, and recorded and it would be a blast to perform. She almost couldn’t wait to start rehearsing it with the band.

“Uhm… can we hear that again, JC? Just… one more time.”  JC grinned and pressed play again, and turned it up. Three suits leaned back in their chairs, arms crossed, deeply contemplating and glancing at each other.  This time, Callie let herself enjoy listening to the song. This was her! Her music! And they seemed to like it!

“Well,” said the ‘leader of the pack’, chuckling. “That’s what we here at Jive like to call good music!  That was uh… that was very good. All four, were great, and I assume we want those on the album.  You did excellent work, Callie. We appreciate you following the feedback given and for working with JC on those. JC, of course, you did a great job producing and writing. Quality work. Uhm…. let’s talk the other 8 singles, and for good measure let's have JC bless them-- you're on a roll, kid. When are we thinking of releasing?”

A flurry of paper and pens and light conversation filled the room and the two sides of the table got down to business.

…

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh. My. God.”  Callie paced the elevator lobby, hands on her head, smile on her face. “I can’t even believe it. I can’t even believe it.”

“I told you, you didn’t have anything to worry about. Didn’t I tell her, Jason?”

They stepped into the elevator as Jason nodded. “I think you told her that.”

“Oh my God. That went so well! I totally didn’t expect that. Wow.”

“I guess I have more work to do. THANKS!”

“Yeah, Producer Man. You’re not quite free of me, yet. Let’s go eat. I’m starving!” Wolfe, her security, met them at the front door and ducked Callie and JC quickly into the car. Jason leaned in to let them know he’d ride back with the security vehicle.  

“I’ll get us all moved to another hotel. Wolfe and his team will get your bags and bring them to you. You guys go eat, relax. I’ll call you with the hotel address soon as we get moved. Give me your key cards.” Jason collected them and stepped back from the car tapping the hood.

“Where to?” asked the driver.

“Southern Hospitality, please.” JC grinned at Callie and she rolled her eyes.

…

“So we should go out, tonight. Have some fun.”  JC stared out of the blacked out windows in the car, on the way to the new hotel.

“We? You got a mouse in your pocket?

“You love me so much today. I can’t even stand it.” 

“Where do you want to go?”

“I know a couple of places that are fun, but won’t really be going till 10 or 11.”

“Till then, it’s me and the fuzzy sock coalition and a stack of movies, because my ass has not slept well in days, worrying about this meeting. I can finally RELAX.”

“Ok. I’ll call you around 9 or so, then.” Callie nodded, resting her head on the seat, trying to stop herself from hoping he would ask to join her.

“You uhm… what movies are you watching?”

“I dunno. I just grabbed a stack from the video store near the hotel. For all I know, I have Porky’s 1 through 4. I don’t care, as long as I am not standing up.”

“I liked Porky’s. That was a good series.”  Callie glanced at JC to see if he was serious. Thankfully, he was quietly laughing to himself.

“Do you want some company?”

‘There it is. The question you were hoping to hear. Don’t be an ass.’

“I’d love some,” Callie answered softly.

“Great, I’ll have Jason come sit with ya.” 

"Fucker.”

“Thank you,” he said between laughs. The car pulled into yet another underground driveway where Wolfe was waiting to accompany Callie and JC upstairs.

“Looks like we gave the crowd the slip. They’re all still hanging out front of the old hotel. No one here, and this place won’t stand for crowds outside.” He handed each of them a room key after they stepped onto the elevator. Callie glanced at his room number and her heart leapt. He was right next to her!

“Luggage is in your rooms. Check to make sure nothing’s missing,” Wolfe continued. “Will you be leaving again?”

“Not till later on tonight, but I think we’ll be okay. I’d rather not have someone on my ass all night.”

“I’ll do my best to stay out of the way but if you need me, know that I will be around. Have a great day,” he said, holding the elevator doors open and letting them step out before he let them close.

“Well. He’s very… militant,’ JC commented.

“Yeah he’s… local I guess. I kinda like him though. Really like him.”

“You need to consider a full time security team. That crowd was scary.”

“I need to consider a lot of things. Looks like my life is about to get crazy.”

“We like it that way. I’ll come over in a bit. Need to make some phone calls.” JC swiped his card and went into his room, and Callie went into hers.

‘Oh. WOW. Yeah I like this place much better. We need to stay here every time,’ Callie thought. The room was more spacious and brighter, more welcoming, and there was a bouquet of fresh flowers on the table.  Her suitcase and personal items sat neatly next to the bed and after a quick check, Callie did not appear to be missing any items.

‘It’s time for fuzzy socks and fat pants, Miss Callie. You’ve earned it!’

 …

The heavy, relentless beat of the hip-hop tune sent vibrations from the floor all the way up Callie’s body. She couldn’t help but bounce to the beat, careful to not spill her drink. She was slightly unsteady on her feet, but having too great of a time to really worry about it. All she could concentrate on was keeping JC within range so she didn’t lose him. She’d been fighting pangs of jealousy all evening as hot, young, pretty women made their presence known—pretty much offering themselves up. Callie was mildly disgusted but admitted if she was not who she was, she might done the same thing. JC was respectful but declined most invitations to dance or leave the club. However, he did accept a few and disappeared onto the dance floor a few times.

Not that Callie’s dance card was empty—she’d taken a few spins around the floor but it was so crowded she felt trapped and decided to sit out a few songs. As the song ended, JC came out from the crowd, thanked his dance partner (who Callie could tell was disappointed at getting just a thank you) and made his way over to her.

“You alright?” he yelled into her ear, the only way she could hear him in the loud club.

Callie nodded, draining her drink.

“You want another one?”

Callie shook her head no.

“You wanna dance?”

Shocked, she looked up at JC. His expression was playful and friendly and he held a hand out to her. Callie decided to go for it.

Though she did not dance often, Callie fancied herself a pretty good dancer… someone who could catch the beat and move to it, at the very least. She allowed herself the luxury of getting lost in the music and moved against JC in a way he wasn’t expecting, nor was he ready for. Her hips gyrated close to his, her body swaying to the beat, the scent of her perfume rising from her body. He felt himself becoming aroused but it wasn’t something he could stop, even if he wanted to. Callie bumped against him, and there was no mistake that she felt him. Her eyes popped open, she gave him a sultry smile, and kept dancing. JC grabbed her by the hips and brought her close to him—now her hips were gyrating against him as they moved together to the beat. And it felt good. Dammit, he could give himself this, if nothing else.

JC glanced up, in utter bliss, and found himself staring into the hazel eyes of Curtis Soul, from across the dance floor. He was dancing as well, with the same woman he’d been photographed with, but that was not where his attention was focused. He was quite clearly watching them dance, and more specifically watching Callie move against him. His expression was foul and he cut angry eyes at JC.

Of course. The only reason Callie was dancing like this was because Curtis was there!

'God, I am so stupid,' he thought, and untangled himself from Callie’s arms and abruptly left the dance floor.

Callie stood stunned and alone in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by couples rhythmically moving to the heavy beat.  'What the fuck just happened? We were dancing, and I KNOW he was having a good  time ... ah, FUCK.’  She took off after him, watching him round the corner to the short, dark hallway toward the restrooms.

“Hey! What's with you? What happened out there?”

“You know what happened. Your plan worked.” JC voice was terse and tight. He wasn’t speaking loudly, but he may as well have been yelling at her.

“I don’t know what happened. What plan? To make you--" she gestured toward the obvious bulge in his jeans. "I didn’t plan that. Ok, maybe I was being a little suggestive. I'm SORRY then, ok?”

JC scoffed and turned away from her, walking further down the hall, then walked back, eyes ablaze. "How long were you gonna keeping going? 'Till he came over and knocked me out?’

Callie shook her head, frustrated and confused. “Knocked you out? WHO? What are you talking about?”

“CURTIS, Callie. CURTIS. I don’t appreciate being used.” JC turned to continue down the hallway. Callie grabbed his arm.

“STOP. Wait. You're saying...Curtis is HERE?”

“Plain as day. Watching us dance." Realization hit, suddenly and his eyes grew large.  "You didn’t know he was here.”

“I wouldn't expect to see him here, either. He's allergic to clubs.“

“So… you weren’t trying to make him jealous, dancing with me?”

“JC, I swear to you, I didn't know he was here. Curtis HATES clubs! You… you thought I was trying to make him jealous? By dancing with you?”

JC closed his eyes, as if he could block off any embarassment by just not looking at her.  He'd let his feelings for her cloud his usually good judgement and overreacted. "I'm sorry. I just ... I thought you had to have a good reason for dancing with me like that. That’s totally not... like... you. I mean, I  loved it. I’m just…” He shrugged,  out of words, sure that any sliver of chance he once had with her was pretty much gone.

Callie stepped close to JC, grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down to hers until their lips met in a hard, wet kiss. She opened her mouth and his tongue was waiting there to play with hers. He moaned and pushed her backward until they were against the wall and kissed her like he had been thinking he should, wishing he could, for a long time.

At some point, Callie came to and realized she was KISSING JC. In public. It did not occur to her that he was kissing her back-- only that she'd let herself cross a line she felt she coudn't afford to cross. and promised herself she wouldn't. Callie tore herself from him, ducked under his arm and flew through the club, picking up her purse as she raced by her chair.

‘Oh God, what did I do? Shit shit shit shit shit!’

It was JC’s turn to stand alone, dumbfounded, wondering what happened.

‘What did I do? SHIT!’

 …