The overwhelming feeling of oncoming tears nearly knocked him over. He'd never felt such an enormous amount of pressure on his shoulders before, and in his 33 years, he most definitely had his share of spotlight, but absolutely nothing felt this intimidating. Staring up at the star-studded night sky as he stood on the shores of Cancun, Mexico, he tried to regain composure. He chewed on his bottom lip and shut his eyes tightly, willing the lump lodged deep in his throat to disappear.

When he opened them again, his eyes were set on two women standing ten feet in front of him. One looked just as fragile as he felt, her wavy locks of hair swaying in the sea breeze, one foot shifting her weight to the other. The other woman stood to her left, back stiff and straight as she smiled brightly. Her hair was swept into a loose bun and her teeth were dazzling white as she stared back at the man in front of her. If the sandy beach were to open up right now and swallow him whole, he would be eternally grateful. But in reality, he had to leap.

This could be romantic, he thought with bitterness as the gentle wind surrounded him and the two women in its carefree, tropical embrace. This was supposed to be romantic. But nothing is going according to plan, as it rarely does. So he fumbled with the small velvet box in his pocket and cleared his throat. 

Spring 2009

JC Chasez was not a scandalous individual. He did not even have a publicist on his payroll like most celebrities.  He didn't need to pay someone to conjure up a story in order to save his ass after blurting a politically incorrect phrase and starting a war of words that he couldn't finish, nor did he need someone to release a statement to "respect his privacy" after a sloppy break-up. No, JC liked keeping his distance from all the hoop-la created by a hungry market for gossip. He'd rather just relax and spend the money he's worked hard for, invest a little bit, and at the end of the day, come home and drink a beer with close friends and family. 

Having been in the 'biz' for over 10 years, JC had long since run the course of determining who his true friends and family were. And because he just about had it all figured out, he had learned to keep himself as elusive as possible when he wasn't busy doing what he loved, which was making good music and promoting projects he really believed in. And in being the elusive-type, he wasn't an easy man to get in touch with.  

In order to get statements from, book a gig with, or even to have him call in a morning radio show for an interview with JC, there were hoops to jump through and holes to crawl out of. It's not because he wanted to be an asshole, but it takes determination to stay out of the public eye.

It's easy to get sucked into meaningless drama. JC couldn't believe how many people were pining for his opinion when someone he had once been in a singing group with had come out of the closet 2 years ago. Why the statements of he and his other band mates for Lance Bass' coming out fiasco were so sought out, will always be beyond JC's understanding. But it was one of the reasons he valued the privacy he was allotted the majority of the time. 

So imagine his surprise when JC came home to a less than desirable offer made by his girlfriend of one year. He had been minding his business, coming home after taping the premiere episode of America's Best Dance Crew, and in the middle of his oven-roasted turkey sub, Liz Sharp sucker-punched him with his worst nightmare. 

"Liz, please tell me you're kidding!" An incredulous look appeared on JC's face as he lowered his hand that held his sandwich. A simple sandwich from the Subway that was built right inside the neighborhood of his simple suburban community that he ordered about three times a week. When Liz didn't crack a smile to indicate she was just playing a cruel joke, he threw his sandwich on his plate and rose from his seat at the kitchen table. "You've got to be kidding me.  A reality show? About finding love?  No, way Liz, that's the last thing I need."  

"Jace, listen, please," Liz pleaded with JC as he broke into a brisk walk out of the kitchen and into the living room.  She caught up in time to see him furiously grab the remote to his enormous flat screen and punch the mute button. "It's just an idea me and the team were throwing around...” 

JC waved his arms around in frenzy as if he were signaling for help, interrupting her. "First of all, it's not going to happen. Second, why would you, my girlfriend, want me to star in a show where a dozen women compete for my 'love'?" He used angry quotations as if his red face wasn't proof enough of how unhappy he was with Liz. To anyone looking in from the outside, JC is sure they would've thought he was over-reacting. But to him, the very thought of privacy invasion of the first degree like starring in a reality TV show catapulted him directly into a state of panic. "Liz, just drop it okay? Stop throwing this idea around with your team or even that pretty little head of yours."  

Liz wasn't about to give up that easy. She put both of her palms onto JC's shoulders and pushed him down onto the black leather couch. "Listen Jace—it’s simple. We put you in a big mansion surrounded by at least 15 girls, most of them professional actresses, and at the end you get a free trip to some place exotic and bam, it's over! You've seen the shows before!"  

"Yeah," JC rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I've seen those shows. Shows about finding love featuring washed-up musicians or annoying old actors. Those shows are dimes a dozen and so are the lames who want to star in them, Liz. Go ask one of them."

He tried to get up but Liz quickly straddled him, determined to make him see her point. "I'm not calling you washed-up.  I'm not even saying you're in desperate need of exposure. I mean come on, you're freaking JC Chasez!" Her round and youthful eyes searched JC's own bright pair of blues for some sign of agreement. "You’re a talented and extremely handsome man; you’re a catch. I'm just saying that this is an opportunity to yes, promote you, but also to finally put my career in motion!"  She bit her lip and back-tracked. "I don't mean to make it seem like I'm using you..."  

"But aren't you?" JC demanded, unable to meet her gaze.  

"Well in a way, yes," Liz said quietly, and then quickly added, "But it's only because this is a chance for me to do what I've always wanted--produce my own show." She grew impatient when JC finally looked at her like she'd grown another head. "Baby, this is my dream!"  

JC rolled his eyes and lightly pushed his girlfriend's petite body off of him as he stood to pace. "Liz, it's not my thing. The idea of over a dozen women kissing on me may sound nice in prospect, but you've seen those types of shows right? They scream 'washed-up and desperate for exposure'. Everyone who participates in those things are just complete train wrecks!" He ran an exasperated hand through his jet black waves of hair before switching gears. "And again, what the hell are you thinking? You're my girlfriend! Why would you want messy chicks groping on me in front of a camera every day?"  

It was Liz's turn to roll her eyes. "Baby, I'm not some sick pervert, okay?" she said, lifting herself off of the couch.  She felt him watching her as she started to pace, her hands wringing together as she tried to put her idea into a more desirable presentation. "I'll be the producer and I won't let the situation get out of hand." She idly twirled her blonde hair, a nervous habit as JC has come to recognize, and continued to push. "And we love each other, and I'm completely comfortable enough to look the other way when..."  

JC cut her off again at the thought of her 'looking the other way'.  "Liz…no, okay? Just forget it! It's disgusting and it goes against everything I stand for."  

Liz let a whine escape her perky pink lips and clamped her palms together in a begging manner. "Jace, please, everything is scripted! Seriously, I don't expect you to go and sleep with the contestants, but this is my first big shot at producing a show with a major cable network. Yes reality TV is trashy and especially reality shows of this nature. Yes, I am even a little disgusted with myself for having even brought this up to you. But you know, the VH1 team is letting me call all of the shots, scripting, casting, and producing. But only..."  

"Only if I do it," JC mumbled. He had made his way back to the kitchen and he leaned against the marble bar top to balance himself.  "Why me? God, Liz, this is the last thing I need."  He turned and faced his beautiful girlfriend in front of him. Half of him was confused, hurt even, at the fact that the woman he has loved for almost 2 years was willing to throw him into a pack of wild fame-seeking women for a shot at finding "love" with the pop star that is JC Chasez.  The other half of him was pissed and insulted.  He couldn't help but feel like a slab of meat on the chopping block just to help his girlfriend get ahead in the television business. But as Liz sulked on her way back to the living room and looked sadly at the muted pictures that flashed on the TV, he felt a tug of guilt.  She's been in the rat race for years now, just trying to make a name for herself in the business as a capable producer in Hollywood. JC had seen Liz dragged through the mud and resort to getting fast food and walking the dogs of script editors like an unpaid intern just for the hope of getting noticed, all to no avail.  

He knew that if she couldn't produce the pop star that VH1 wanted for their newest reality show, another chance to make it wouldn't come around anytime soon. That's the hardest part about success in this business, JC thought as he trudged his way back to Liz, joining her on the couch. It's hard to know which doors of opportunity to open and when you should just leave some closed. Placing one hand on her thigh he exhaled loudly. He also knew that it probably wasn't very easy for her to just provide her boyfriend for the taking. Wincing, he asked, "Everyone gets an STD test, right?"  

"JC!" Liz screeched in excitement, straddling him again and covering his face and neck with kisses. "Baby, I love you so much! I swear, I owe you big time!"

"No," JC corrected her. "You owe me huge." He pushed her gently to the side and stood in front of her. "And you must run everything by me first, I mean it. I want the last word on everything." He watched as she nodded her head quickly, agreeing to his demands. He paused for a moment before asking why VH1 wanted him in the first place.  

"Well, they didn't exactly ask for you," Liz started, chewing on her bottom lip as JC eyed her suspiciously. "But when I mentioned you, they were all for it."  

"I can't believe you sacrificed me to them."  Liz stood up and made a puppy-dog face, embracing JC. "Believe me, Jace. If I had access to any other sexy and eligible bachelor, I would've mentioned them first. But I just know you, and I feel like we can really make this work. It's a script to follow. You just have to bust out those acting chops and when we wrap up shooting at the end of three months, we'll take full advantage of that exotic getaway, just you and me." She ran her hands up JC's hard chest, around his shoulders and finally linked her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. "It'll be fun."  She lingered at his lips for another moment as she felt his body ease up and give into her kiss. "You know I'm going to be banking it when we started getting sponsored. God, this is going to be it."  

"I can't believe I'm doing this," JC said quietly into his girlfriend's neck as he hugged her back. "My mom's going to kill me."   

Ella Lopez quietly unlocked the front door to her mom's house and whistled for her apple head Chihuahua Max to greet her. Ella's eyes widened in mock excitement as Max did an entire body shake and appeared in front of his master. "My baby!" It never got old coming home to her dog when he acted everyday as though they'd been apart for years. He wagged his chocolate brown tail and jumped up and down a dozen times every time Ella walked through the door after work, and who would get tired of having someone to come home to that was just as happy to see you as the day before? Lifting Max off the floor and covering him in kisses, Ella found herself extremely relieved to be home for about a full minute before putting him down and allowing reality to sink in. She'd lost her job.

"Hola, mi hija," Ella's mother trudged into the kitchen where Ella was sifting through the mail on the counter. She lifted her hand slowly to mess with the rollers in her salt-and-pepper hair.  "Why are you home so early? I thought your shift didn't end until two in the morning?"

"I'm done, mom," Ella replied softly, hoping not to have this conversation with her mother again. She sighed and quickly glanced at her mother's confused face before kissing her cheek and retrieving Max. "I'm going to bed, love you." She retreated to her room before her mom could say another word and made a mental note to apologize to her for being short in the morning.

Making her way to the private bathroom adjacent to her bedroom to brush her teeth, Ella couldn't help but feel low. Not only because she'd lost her job waitressing at the restaurant tonight, but because that was the second job this month she'd been let go from. She pulled her wavy caramel-colored locks of hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Ella had become her own worst nightmare; the 23 year-old college drop out with a history of job-hopping and lack of commitment. But she'd already given herself enough shit for the night, so she rolled her light hazel eyes and shut off the light. Max had already found a spot of comfort at the foot of Ella's bed as she settled under her covers and switched on her television, hoping a little trashy reality TV would numb her brain to sleep.

After a few minutes of channel surfing, her eyes were as heavy as her thoughts. She needed a new game plan that would get her out of California once and for all. And in the morning, she'd begin working on said plan.

The advertisement was already half-way through when Ella switched the channel to VH1. "So if you're 21 years old and up, visit VH1.com for more information to compete for the love of JC Chasez!" The excited male voice on the commercial did nothing to excite Ella, so she turned off the television and brought Max to her chest, her eyes settling in the dark. Her brain struggled to put a face to the familiar name JC Chasez but she soon succumbed to sleep, abandoning all thoughts of another washed-up pop star with a reality show.