So many things fell into place, all at once.  Except that when things fall into place all at once, it brings a lot of stress and makes for a very busy schedule.

JC began feverishly perfecting songs to go on his album. A second quarter release meant that he was a little behind on producing, so Callie tried to stay out of his hair and let him work. Amid promotion and writing and producing, he was busy and tired but the happiest she’d ever seen him. She mentally patted herself on the back for being a part of what it took to get him back to his first love. She couldn’t wait to see him perform some of his songs, live.

As for her own career, Jive was becoming more impatient with Callie. According to Jason, they were looking for something from her in the coming year, and to placate them, she started writing, but dragged her feet. It hadn’t been that long since ‘Charlie’ was released, and she felt she had more time than they were giving her. She absolutely did not want to work with another producer on a full album, and with JC breaking his back to get his own music out, she finally sent a message through Jason that it would be ‘awhile’, so she would start writing but she would refuse to work with anyone until JC was available. It could be a year, it could be more, but they made a great team and she wasn’t ready to switch gears. They would get some revenue for the duet that she wrote and was going on his album—she felt that was enough for the time being.

To say JC was nervous about releasing music again after so long out of the spotlight was an understatement. He was frequently worried about not fitting into the musical landscape of the time- what if he was just too ‘out there’, what if people didn’t get it, what if people didn’t buy it? What if the new label played the same old game and he found himself out in the tundra, promoting himself until he was sick of himself, with no backing from the industry at all?

He was fine during the day, when he was busy and working and moving. When he slowed to sleep and to rest, his fears came pouring out. Callie found herself repeating words that comforted her. “At the end of the day,” she would say, “what matters is that you have something you’re proud of and that you love it. Even if everyone hates it, you have something to be proud of.”

He took a short break over the holiday to visit with his family and took her with him. She hadn’t been a part of a close, happy family in a long time, and they made her feel right at home. Heather slapped an apron on her within five minutes of hitting the door and before she knew it she was whipping milk and butter into mashed potatoes, setting rows of rolls onto baking sheets to slide into the oven, and helping to set the table. Tyler and JC got into a towel slapping fight, which Callie watched from the corner, laughing so hard she cried. She didn’t have siblings, except for Jason, so watching the three of them interact was fun, and it made her wistful, wishing she could have had the same experience. It was loud, and hilarious, and comforting and special. She was happy she’d made the trip, and JC was happy to have shared a part of himself that people rarely got to see. It was because of them that he was who he was—he wanted her to know that real, happy families existed and to let her be a part of that, if she wanted to be.

Upon return to LA, the stopwatch on the release began. JC was gone more than he was home and Callie found she didn’t really mind hanging out with Tyler but she just felt more comfortable with Paula, so when he was gone, she enjoyed a lot of time with her friend.

“Okay, just so you know, I’m totally expecting an advance copy and front row seats and VIP, the whole thing. Just so you know. Tell him.” Paula adjusted her wireframe glasses, searching the table for a puzzle piece.

Callie slid a corner piece over to her, adding to her small stack of corner pieces. “He knows. Trust me, he knows.”

“Is he nervous?”

“Yes. And grumpy.”

“Aww. He’ll do fine. A ha!” she cried out, snapping the pieces together.

“You and your puzzles,” Callie sighed, swiveling in her chair and stepping down from the bar stool. She made a new home on the plush sofa and flipped through the TV Guide.

“So are you ready for this? I mean, you pushed for it, but are you ready for him to be like, really really famous again?”

Callie shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just know I couldn’t go through another day of him pretending he didn’t want to be here, you know? This is where he’s supposed to be, this is what he loves to do. He should be doing it.”

“And so should you. How long do you think Jive will wait on your new album?”

“I don’t know. It’s the last album on my contract and they’re not talking renewal yet. Maybe I’ll hold out.”

Paula turned to stare at her, eyes wide. “Are you thinking of not renewing?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Callie slouched, sliding down on the couch until she was laying on her back. “I was thinking I might start writing, like, for other people. What do you think?” Callie sat up, resting her head on the back of the couch. Paula didn’t look up from her puzzle, but she shrugged.

“I think you’re a great songwriter with a lot of talent. Just, you know… don’t do the same thing JC did. I mean it; you belong on a stage, too.”

“I know. I just… you know…”

“What?” she asked, turning around. “You don’t want to compete with him, do you?”

Callie smiled, knowing Paula could read her mind. She shook her head, very slightly.

“Cal. Honey. There are, literally, hundreds, millions of artists out there. You’re competing with all of them. You don’t seriously think he’ll be angry if you release at the same time.”

“I don’t think he’d care. I think he would be amused by it, actually. I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to steal his shine. And I want the time to support him and be here for him. Listen to me… when did I stop being selfish?”

“When you met him,” she said plainly, matter of factly.

“He’s ruined me. Dammit.” Her phone buzzed on the table. The display made her wonder if he knew she was talking about him.

“Hello,” she said, smiling into the phone. 

“Hello,” he said, back. She could feel his smile over the airwaves. She missed him.”What are you doing?”

“Watching Paula put together this puzzle, and talking about you. Are your ears burning? “

“Tell her she’s already on the VIP list, quit asking.”

“See, I told her. You already knew she would ask. What are you doing?”

“Taking a dinner break. Dallas had to go pick up his son, I stayed behind so I could talk to you.” She heard buttons being pressed in the background, echoing against the quiet of the room.

“And obsess over some more songs? How’s it coming?”

“You know me too well. It’s coming. Pretty good. We should finish in a couple of days and then it’s off to press.”

“And then?”

“Photoshoot. I’ve been sucking down water and eating, like, salad and healthy shit. Trying to get rid of my bloat.”

“Oh, honey,’ she said, laughing at his weight worries. “That’s what Photoshop is for. They’ll make you look hot. Not that you don’t look hot already. Just more hot. And not puffy.”

“Whatever. I don’t want them to have to edit me too much.” He yawned, and then sighed. In her minds she could see his usual mannerisms, like raising a hand up to scratch the back of his head and his neck, the way he slouched in a studio chair. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. When are you back in LA?”

“Couple days. Three, maybe, if we’re lucky--“  He was interrupted by loud commotion in the background. “He’s back, so I’m back to work. I’ll call you later.”

They said their goodbyes and the call disconnected with a click.

“You’re such a sucker, for him.”

“Shut up, Paula. You wouldn’t rest until I was back with him. Don’t think I don’t know you sent him up to see me, to get me back.”

“Oh, I’m well aware that you know that. We had lunch. Did he tell you?”

Callie shook her head. They hadn’t talked much about the span of time that they were apart. Callie would really rather not relive that whole ugly, miserable time and JC wasn’t about rehashing the past.

She climbed down from her barstool and picked up the glass of wine she had been sipping. “Yeah, so I ran into him one day at the Grove and I just said, ‘when are you going up there to talk to her?’ He said,  ‘you know, Paula, I don’t know if she wants to see me’, to which I wanted to slap him and say ‘have you seen all the shit she’s pulling lately, she miserable, go see her’. I think it took him about five seconds to ask if you were home and how long you’d be there. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you, Paula. Really. From the bottom of my heart.”

She smiled and gave Callie a loving pat. “So how is our little recording artist?”

“He sounds tired. He’s doing okay. Hoping to finish in a few days. Worried about his photoshoot.”

“Why? Photoshop, baby.”

“Right? That’s what I said. He’s just worried about looking bloated.”

“Like someone else I know. I don’t miss that, about the industry. The other day I actually had a studio ask me to ask one of my clients to drop 10 pounds. I said, from where, her head? Are you nuts?”  She shook her head, incredulous.

“Sex sells. And pudge isn’t sexy.”

 ###

Time ticked away, so fast now. The album was finished, mixed, sent to press, photoshoot done, first single released and not doing too badly—better than anything had done on Jive. It was a wonder what a little support from your label could do. JC focused on live versions of the song, with a band and not a recorded soundtrack. If he was going to do it, it was going to be done right.

Callie could hardly wait until the album was released—he was so nervous and nitpicky he was almost unbearable. He spent day and night reworking the material, becoming frustrated that it wasn’t coming together as he heard it in his head. Added to that was the pressure of family and friends in town for the listening and release parties—JC said he felt like the whole world was staring at him, and he’d forgot to put his pants on. His discomfort was palpable and it seemed Callie could do nothing to console him. She tried as best she could to stay out of his way and offer comfort from afar. She knew she could be a bear during this process, and promised herself to be nicer to him, the next time around.

A very old friend, an old high school friend had made contact with Callie, and though she was nervous about it, Callie decided she’d see where this went, and ventured into the first friendship she’d formed since meeting JC. Renae was living and working in LA as a makeup artist and heard Callie had been in town for awhile. They spent a long time reminiscing about the old days—riding around in the back of an El Camino, singing dirty songs and drinking beer someone had bought for them. Renae remembered when Callie met Curtis, and how they were so drawn to each other. She was surprised to hear how badly the relationship deteriorated before it ended. She admitted she thought they would be together for life. “People change, especially in this business,” Callie told her. “You can let it turn you into a wimp, or an asshole, but it happens before you know it,  in the blink of an eye.”

It was nice, to have someone her age to talk with, have fun with, pal around with. JC frequently became annoyed at the inability to shop without cameras following him, bloggers and photogs asking ridiculous questions and forcing himself to be nice to them. Callie simply ignored them, refusing to be held hostage by a camera lens and an idiot. She and Renae spent a lot of time together, especially walking Melrose, checking out the fashions, laughing at the price tags and talking silly pictures.

It was the final week before the listening party, the release party, and JC’s first live show in years. She and Renae decided to shop for something to wear, since so many people were coming to town and so many things were happening at one time.

They browsed the latest fashions at an ultra chic, ultra hip boutique, frowning at the selection and the prices that seemed unreasonable for such—well, really—hideous options. Callie felt a finger poke her side and whipped around, alert and on edge. She found herself glaring into warm brown eyes and an animated face almost split in half by a happy grin.

She fell into a giant bear hug, laughing with relief. “You were about to get beat down, Joey. What are you doing here?” Callie waved a hello to Kelly, who was talking on her cell phone and slowly catching up.

“I’m in town for your man, woman. Wouldn’t miss this for the world. What are you doing in Beverly Hills, is the question?”

“Oh this is my friend Renae,” Callie said, an arm around her. Joey hugged her, saying any friend of Callie’s gets a hug. “We’re looking for something cute to wear to the release party. You guys are going to the show, right?”

“We will all be there. Chris comes in Tuesday, everyone else is here already. I got a meeting tomorrow so I’ll miss the listening party. But I’ll be at the release party and the show Friday. What’s C doing today, can I call him?” Joey pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

“Rehearsals-- and he’s grumpy. Call at your own risk. I’ll see you guys Tuesday,”   Callie hugged them both goodbye and headed down the street, to the car.

Renae slung an arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “I totally just met Joey Fatone.” She let out a little squeal and Callie laughed at her. She forgot what it was like to meet someone famous for the first time.

“So, you guys have a good day, while I was slaving away?” asked JC, shoving a slice of cold garlic bread in his mouth. Long after dinner, he came home from rehearsal, starving and looking for food.

“I’m warming something up for you. We had an awesome day. Did rehearsal go any better?”

“A little,” he said, mouth full of bread. “Well, a lot. We finally made it over the hump. I’m just nervous that we aren’t ready.” He sat at the small table in the kitchen and she set a salad, a plate of steaming pasta and cheese and warm toasted garlic bread in front of him.

“Well, you guys have been working hard. It’ll pay off.”

Callie set a glass of water next to his plate and sat down. She watched half the food had disappear in  seconds—watching him eat was a spectator sport. He caught her eye and reached for her hand across the table.

“I’ve been… not nice the last couple of days. I’m sorry. I’m just...”

“I know. God, I know. I’m not holding it against you. I might have been kind of a bitch while I was recording. I remember someone constantly complaining about how rude I was.”  She shrugged and grinned. Tired, he could only manage half a smile.

He finished his dinner in deep thought. Pushing the plate away from him, he belched and proclaimed, “That was good. Hit the spot, thank you honey.”

“Sure,” she said, taking his plate and glass, rinsing them, and placing it in the dishwasher. “So, do you think you’re ready for tomo-“

Sitting up, mouth open, head leaning up against the wall, he was asleep, just like that. Callie shook her head and watched him, then gently laid a hand on his cheek, stroking the stubble. His eyes cracked open, he blinked a few times, and then gave her a sheepish grin.

“I guess I’m tired,” he rumbled, his voice low and heavy, sprinkled with the dust of sleep.

“Well, it’s no wonder; you’ve been working like you’re some kind of machine. Come on, off to bed with you,” she said softly, offering a hand to help him stand, and then leading him from the kitchen to the bedroom.

“I don’t even feel like undressing. I just want to sleep. Tired as shit,” he mumbled, collapsing onto the bed.

She untied and removed his shoes, then socks. Unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off and miraculously was able to pull his shirt over his head without waking him up again. She picked up a quilt from the chair next to the bed, and laid it over him, then climbed in next to him.

The bright glow from the lit patio downstairs provided just enough light to see his face while he slept. Callie must have stared at his silhouette for over an hour. Listened to him breathe. Traced the outline of his classically handsome face from his forehead, down his nose, to his lips and chin. Prayed he was resting well and rejuvenating and would be fresh and confident for the week—it mattered more than any other week of the year. Sometime around dawn she finally nodded off, her head on his chest. A hand had found its way into her hair and she felt herself being snuggled close to him as she drifted off to sleep.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Callie woke up next to JC, in his arms. He’d either been coming to bed as she was getting up, or was up before her, or was out of town. They hadn’t slept next to each other, all night, and awakened together in months. It felt comfortable, normal. Callie craved this kind of quiet time with him, especially in the whirlwind that had been the last six months. Fully awake but not moving, she listened to him breathe, riding the rise and fall of his chest. 

“You’re awake, I can tell,” he said, his voice gravelly and groggy.

“Yeah. So?” she said, smiling into his chest.

He ran a veined hand along the soft fabric. “Where’d this come from?”

“The chair over there,” she said, pointing at the wing backed chair in the corner of his bedroom.

“Oh. Forgot my mom sent that.” He yawned and stretched his arms out, then dropped them, circling her in a tight hug. “What time do they get here?”

“Tyler and I are taking care of all of that. You don’t need to be worried about it.”

“I know, I just was wondering.”

“One o’ clock. Happy?”

“Very. Come up here,” he said, pulling her up so he could see her face.

“Are you ready for today?”she asked. He nodded.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Nah. Just playing the tunes for the fans. It’ll be fun. Kind of crazy. Are you coming?”

“Yeah. I’ll be with your family.”

The phone buzzed on the nightstand. He glanced over at it but didn’t pick it up. “That’s Eric. I should get up, I have to be there early.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then sat up. “You want to shower?”

“With you? Sure.”

###

“Callie, are you coming to dinner Friday, after the show? We’re making reservations.” Karen ducked her head out of the kitchen. Callie nodded, and then went back to her conversation with Roy.

“Van is here, time to go,” called Tyler. Roy and Karen, Tyler and Callie and a few of JC’s friends climbed into the small van and idly chatted, rolling the neighborhood and out to the highway.

“Oh my God,” muttered Tyler, staring out the window. Callie leaned over him and glanced out and gasped. There was a large crowd spilling out of the front doors and around the outside of the music store. The driver had to honk several times and show his pass to get through. Finally, he pulled up to the front door and got out to open the doors. The crowd began to close in on the van. She heard the driver say, “JC’s not in here, he’s already in the store, back up back up, these folks need to get in.”

Several security personnel made their way out of the building and created a path to the front door. The van doors opened and Roy and Karen and the others stepped out, followed by Tyler and Callie. Callie was surprised—and a little unnerved--  by high pitched screams and grabby hands and pens and paper being shoved everywhere. Anything anyone said was incomprehensible—she couldn’t hear over the roar. She felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulder and propel her toward the open door of the store. She looked up into the smiling face of the van driver who had her on one side and Tyler on the other. He pushed through the crowd and escorted them inside and to the back of the store. A seating area had been marked for family, where they finally relaxed and took their seats.   

“Holy… Fuck!” Callie said, catching her breath, smoothing down her hair, mussed from the crowd. Tyler dropped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulders.

“You made it through, sweetie. You’re ok.”

She nodded and looked around, taking in the scene. The large music store was packed from front to back with people. It was standing room only up and down every aisle. A stage with two comfortable chairs had been set up at the front of the large gathering room. A sound system and a microphone stood ready and waiting, as well as a table and a chair where JC would sign autographs. There was excitement in the air as she browsed the faces of girls—some young, some older. A few smiled and waved at her, likely surprised to see her there. Callie waived back. More, however, were calling out Tyler’s name. He smiled and wiggled a few fingers at them, and they squealed in delight. Callie snorted at the thought of Tyler having fans.

“Is your girlfriend coming, or working?” she asked him. Tyler had finally found someone to replace Callie—a young law clerk that seemed glued to his hip since he met her.

“Working,” he said. “Don’t get any ideas. The last thing I need is for her to hear I was flirting with my brother’s fans.”

Callie felt the energy level in the room rise and looked toward the stage. JC was milling around, talking to Eric and his publicist, nodding and pointing, giving and receiving instruction. They both walked away and he climbed the steps to the man-made platform and took a seat in one of the chairs. The crowd seemed to breathe, almost surging toward him, making Callie was thankful for the barrier and the large, burly men standing between him and them.

JC looked up and out over the crowd, his eyes searching for his family. His eyebrows rose at the sight of his parents, who both waived to him. He smiled and waved back, his eyes make his way down the line of seats. He nodded at his friends, settled on Callie. He stared, unmoving, for a few seconds, sending a message. She heard it, loud and clear. He kissed two fingers and pointed them at her. She did the same, beaming with pride and didn’t care who saw it. He nodded at Tyler, and then pointed and wiggled his finger around. Tyler grunted and removed his arm from around her shoulder. He nodded and gave the thumbs up sign, to which Tyler and the crowd laughed. As soon as JC turned away he put his arm back, laying it on the back of her chair.

“He’s not the boss of me. I can put my arm where I want,” he whispered.  

A hush fell over the crowd as a tall, gangly man with bushy blonde hair and a goatee made his way up the short flight of stairs and onto the makeshift stage. He tapped the microphone a few times to make sure it was working and motioned to the sound manager to turn it up. When the volume was sufficient, he made a brief announcement that they would begin in a few minutes.

Callie sat back and crossed and uncrossed her legs, tried to relax—she  just couldn’t. She was nervous for him, because she knew he was nervous. He was playing it cool, but she saw how his eyes darted around the room, the way his forehead creased with worry, the way he chewed the inside of his lip that he was shaking inside.   A moment he’d been waiting for years to come had arrived—now it was time to bare his soul and show his audience what he was made of, what had been lingering inside of him.

Thankfully the manager made his way back to the microphone stand and began his introduction. He and JC had been friends for years and had shared many a philosophical music conversation, so his store was the perfect place to hold the listening party and he was the perfect person to introduce him. After a few sweet words of support and admiration, he invited JC to present a sneak peek at the new album.

The applause was heartening as JC stood and stepped to the microphone. He smiled and laughed as the applause continued and then raised his hands to quiet them. “This’ll take all night if ya’ll don’t stop, now,” he said, to which they laughed and applauded again.

“Uhm. I want to start by first of all thanking everybody for coming out today. This really means a lot to me and uh, I hope you like the album. And I also need to tell you that this store will close at 10 tonight but will reopen at midnight, so you can come back and buy it. You can stand in the line at midnight or you can spend a couple bucks and get a wristband. The wristband will just get you right in the door, so whichever works for you, go for it. You can get your wristbands on the way out or up until closing tonight.” He paused and took a swig of water from his bottle and set it down on the floor.

“Second, I want to thank my family, back there,” he said pointing at the small group at the back of the room. The entire building shifted in their direction. Callie looked down at Roy and Karen as they waved and smiled at everyone. Tyler stood and took a bow, and the room erupted in laughter, including JC. “Tyler is kind of shy,” he said, laughing.

“So, let’s get started!” He rubbed his hands together, turned around and took a seat in one of the oversized chairs on the stage. “I hope enough people can see me. My ass is tired, man. I’ve been working on my show, this Friday. Hope everyone got their ticket already, it’s almost sold out, I heard.” Cheers and applause filled the room as he slid an unlabeled cd into the player. 

He talked through a few songs, took some questions from the audience, did a drawing for a raffle and then talked about the rest of the album. Except for the single that was already in rotation, Callie hadn’t heard much of the new album – no one had. He’d kept it under lock and key and not let anyone hear any of it. He said he wanted actual, real reactions when they heard it for the first time. Callie was already in love with it, and the crowd in attendance seemed to agree, bobbing their heads along with the music, smiling, dancing, singing along.

JC wrapped up the album preview with a heartfelt thanks to the crowd, smiling and bowing when they applauded once again. The store manager returned to the microphone and directed people to line up at a register to purchase a wristband if they planned to return later to buy the CD. He then announced that after a short break, JC would sign autographs and take pictures. 

Callie watched him snake his way through the crowd to the back of the room.  He made a beeline for his parents, a bright smile on his face, and hugged them both tight. Karen kissed his cheek and gripped his face, nearly in tears. He talked to them for a few minutes and then hugged them again. The van was outside, ready to take everyone back to the house, so Karen and Roy made their way to the door, smiling and waving at fans who said hello.    

JC and Tyler had a mini play fight that ended in a loose hug. Red faced, eyes glassy, Tyler slapped JC on the back and said, “Proud of you. You did it. It’s good. Love you, man.” JC nodded and slapped him back, not trusting himself to speak. Tyler followed everyone else out to the van, but not before stopping to take a few photos and sign a few autographs. Callie laughed, so she wouldn’t cry.

“Who knew Tyler had fans,” she said, shrugging.

“Yeah, that’s uhm. Yeah I don’t know what’s up with that. So, what did you think?” He searched her face for a sign, any sign.

“So. I’m in love with it,” she gushed. “I love it so much, I’m getting get two copies.”   

The smile that broke across his face warmed her heart. “You really like it? Or are you just saying that?”

Callie laughed. “Do I lie to you, ever? I really like it, it’s good. You know it’s good. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, well… yeah of course,”  he said, nodding. “I’m excited about it. I want you to like it, though.”

“I do. I love it. And so did they, so all that worrying about people not liking your music can go away now, right?”

“I guess. It still has to chart.”

“It will. Stop worrying. I need to let you get back to your job. I’ll see you at the house.”  She stepped close to him and gave him a discrete hug.  

He turned around to look at the crowd. “I don’t think I’ll get out of here for awhile. I’ll see you when I see you. Love you, though.” He winked and blew a kiss to her.

“Love you, too. See you later,” she whispered, then headed toward the door.

A few girls giggled as she walked past them. Callie smiled and pushed past a few groups of people. “Excuse me,” she heard behind her, and felt a tap on her arm. A young girl, not older than ten, stood smiling up at her.

“Hi,” Callie said, a bright smile on her face. She loved tiny fans. “Were you talking to me?”

She nodded. “Are you JC’s girlfriend?” she asked. Her voice was so sweet and small and she was so young.

“Uhm…will you be mad if I say yes?” Callie asked.

She giggled and turned red. “No, silly.  Can you sign this for me?” She held out a heart shaped notepad and a pen. “I’m gonna ask JC to sign next to your name.”

“Ohhhh. Well, ok. And tell JC I said ‘hi’ when you get up there for me okay?”

Callie took the notepad, signed her name, and handed it back to her. The little girl gave her the sweetest, cutest smile, then opened her arms wide and hugged her, and skipped away.  She smiled, watching the little girl babble happily to what must have been her mother, or sister, someone older, then headed out of the door and climbed into the van, which then pulled away from the curb and pointed toward home.