When JC was eight years-old, a pudgy girl from Mrs. Turner's second grade classroom gave him two choices.

“You can kiss me on my lips, or you can kiss me on my hand,” she said, promptly hiding her hands behind her baby blue corduroy pants. Little JC watched in horror as Cindy LaRue puckered her lips so tightly that the fine skin around her mouth turned pale white.

Being eight years-old meant that he didn’t have to try to be polite or be mindful of Cindy’s feelings. He shuddered and exclaimed, “No!” before kicking her right in the gut and booking it to the monkey bars. Kissing Cindy anywhere would be the very last thing he needed or wanted—at eight years-old, anyway. 

Now in his 30's, JC Chasez was pretty mindful of other people's feelings. He had learned to smile and ask for seconds after Liz spent hours in the kitchen preparing a disaster for dinner, and he had learned to encourage her in her career aspirations, no matter how cut-throat and demeaning he felt her job was. Now as he drank his Sprite and watched his good friend and former band mate Justin Timberlake draw a pros-and-cons list on a whiteboard in front of him, JC couldn't help but think maybe he'd just agreed to doing a reality TV show for Liz's benefit because he was trying to be mindful of her feelings. He couldn't decide whether or not to go through with his agreement with his girlfriend, and that's why Justin was there.

"Okay," Justin mumbled, studying his chicken scratch and twisted the cap back on his dry erase marker. "We've been over this for about 2 hours, and there's still more pros then cons."

"Boobs isn't a pro," JC argued then back-tracked when Justin gave him a sideways glance. "Well, of course boobs are nice, Justin, but you can't just write the word 'boobs' under pro. I need substance. I don't think I can go through with this if I don't have at least a little bit of dignity in my reasoning for agreeing to this."

Justin slapped his open palm over the first word under his 'pro' list and rubbed out 'boobs' while sighing loudly. "Are you sure they want you for this show? You've got to be the most boring person on earth." He grabbed a handful of chips on the coffee table and collapsed on the couch next to JC.

"That's what I'm saying!" JC jumped up and threw his hands in the air before letting them rest on his hips. He paced, clearly in agony that he was stuck between two very hard places. Grabbing a handful of chips and shoving them into his mouth, he inwardly read the whiteboard again.

Pros: Making out (and maybe more) with a dozen women, having chicks adore me, living stress-free in a mansion for three months, 24-hour booze cruise, exposure.

Cons: Some girls will be crazy, possibility for some sort of liver failure or STD, possible jealous GF, unwanted exposure.

Turning around to face his friend, JC swallowed hard. "Would you do it?"

"Hmm," Justin hummed and paused for a moment. "Now? No. I wouldn't do it. But I guess in a few years if I was a little hard up for work or a girlfriend, sure."

JC's eyes widened and he knew he'd asked the wrong guy for input. "I'm not hard up for work or a girlfriend—I’ve got both."

"True," Justin offered before adding, "but can't I live vicariously through you? Please do it, Jace. Please?"

"How am I going to tell Liz that I've changed my mind?" JC's palms began to get sweaty and he gulped down some more Sprite. "Sure, it could be fun for awhile but I can't shake the feeling that I'll just be thought of as a huge joke if I go through with this, J. I can't do it." 

"Since when do you care what other people think?" Justin asked.

"I don't," JC insisted. "But come on, when you watch these shows, what's the first thing you think?"

"How jealous I am of the guy who gets a different piece every night."

JC let a laugh escape and rolled his eyes. "This coming from the guy who actually does get a different piece every night—whether or not he has a girlfriend." Justin raised his glass of soda as if he were making a toast in acknowledgement of the accusation, and let JC continue. "I am not going to lie, okay -- it's definitely appealing. But I really care about Liz and it's a little weird she's encouraging me to actually cheat on her."

"Eh," Justin put his glass down and stopped JC. "Would you really classify it as cheating if she's telling you to do it? I bet it's a sick fantasy of hers."

"It's totally not like that."

"Why can't there be more Liz's in this city?" Justin thought aloud, ignoring JC. He rose from his chair and turned his confused comrade to face the whiteboard he had set up in the living room. "Come on, dude. It's literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. There's always going to be critics, okay? Whether you do a reality show or not, people are going to think of you what they will, but your friends know you."

"You're going to make me cry."

"Shut up." Justin slapped JC's back and sat back down on the couch. "So are you going to do it or not?"

JC crossed his arms and sighed, studying the pros and cons before him.

Ella applied fresh gloss, using the rear-view mirror to make sure the rest of her make up was still in tact. She honked the horn two more times before her best friend Jennifer finally walked out of her front door and appeared on her porch. Rolling down the window of her old Ford Taurus, Ella groaned loudly. "Bitch, hurry up."

"Oh, you look nice," Jennifer complimented her friend of twelve years as she slid into the passenger seat. "I didn't think you were going to audition, too."

"I'm not," Ella said flatly. "I have an interview after this."

"Ah, I see," Jennifer primped her hair with her hands then dug in her purse for a cigarette. "Roll down the windows, please; I want to smoke."

"Don't smoke in here--I hate the way the stink lingers after you get out."

"My, my," Jennifer dropped her bag on the floor of the car and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you interviewing for a parole officer position today, Miss Lopez?" She straightened her cleavage that her black dress with white flower print accentuated.

"Sorry," Ella rolled down Jennifer's window using the automatic switch on her door. "I'm just in a horrible mood having to drive to my fifth interview this week. Lame. Give me one of those." She took a Camel from Jennifer's pack and waited for her to light it. 

"Well, you should skip the interview and come with me to this open cast call," Jennifer shrugged, lighting Ella's cigarette and then her own. She smirked as Ella coughed and sputtered after one drag. "Thought you quit?"

"I've never quit anything in my life," Ella smiled and continued to inhale as she drove down the interstate that would lead to Jennifer's casting event. She had woken up this morning in a foul mood after realizing she would be using the last couple gallons of gas she had left in her car to drive all the way across town for a job she wasn't exactly hyped up about, but what choice did she have? It was a full-time job looking for an actual job. She sighed and quickly glanced over at Jennifer as she continued to primp herself for another audition for a chance to be on TV. It wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for girls their age who lived in L.A. with rocking bodies (Jennifer was perfect in Ella's opinion) to try and flaunt it for a little taste of fame. And that was Jennifer's job--strutting. "So what exactly are you auditioning for?"

"Well," Jennifer tossed the finished cigarette out the open window and fished in her purse again for a mint. "It's a reality show."

Ella threw her head back and laughed. "Another one?"

"Yeah, but I won't have to shit in a hole in the forest for this one," Jennifer said, joining in on Ella's melodious laugh. "It's a competition for the love of JC Chasez."

Ella snorted. "I saw the ad for that one the other night." She signaled then merged to the right when she saw her exit coming up. "He's from 'NSYNC, huh? Yeah, sorry Jenn, but he came out of the closet a couple of years ago."

"Uh," Jenn pointed in the air with her index finger. "That was Lance Bass. Get it straight." She smiled and rolled up her window so she could turn on the AC. "Anyway, I don't care. I'm just going for the booze and on a prayer that Justin Timberlake will show up."

"Wow," Ella giggled and took the Main Street exit off the highway. "Now that's a reality show I'd sign up for. Competing for the love of Justin Timberlake—the relevant one from that old boy band."

"Hey, now," Jenn interrupted. "I seem to remember a certain 15 year-old girl practicing her married name all over her book covers in high school." She cupped her chin in her hand in mock concentration as Ella acted coy. "Mrs. Ella Chasez, was it?"

"I'm not saying he wasn't the hottest one," Ella defended herself. "I'm just saying what has he done since the band? Nothing as successful as Justin Timberlake, that's for sure." The girls continued to laugh as Ella came to a stop in the parking lot of the event arena in the downtown neighborhood of the city she's lived in her entire life. Los Angeles had definitely lost it's magic, and although she slightly judged all the women for having hopes as high as marrying a celebrity, she couldn't blame them for wanting a change.

She looked around at all the women hurrying from their cars and down the path to an entrance where she was sure the line was around the entire building when suddenly she pressed the gas and began to search the parking lot for an open space.

"Uh," Jenn leaned back in her seat, startled by Ella's sudden change of pace. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to park my car, and then I'm going to audition with you."

"Really?" Jenn clapped her hands together. "Do you know how awesome it would be to live in the same house together?" She took out two cigarettes from the Camel pack as Ella finally found a spot and parked the car. She handed one to her friend. "Here. Oh, Christ--I'm so excited!" After the two women got out and lit their cigarettes, Jenn studied Ella's square face framed delicately by her caramel-colored waves of hair that suddenly turned serious. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ella insisted, but she had begun to tremble from a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I just really don't want to go to that interview today. I'm tired of waitressing because with that's all I seem to be qualified for. I'm tired of being let go for my lack of commitment and I'm tired of disappointing my mom and my family because I can't just stay put and keep a damn job." She threw the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it with her strappy sandal. "I just want something different. If I make it in there," she pointed at the arena, "I might have a chance at getting out of here."

Jenn nodded and took Ella's hand. "There's a really big chance neither of us is going to get picked. I've been to these things before, and there are no limits to what some of the women will do for a shot. But I don't see the harm in trying. If this is what you want to do, you should go for it."

"Why not?" Ella shrugged and followed Jenn to the entrance, not even slightly convinced that she would have a shot at trying to compete for the love of JC Chasez. 

It seemed as though they had been in that boardroom all day before Liz finally presented JC and two representatives from the network with a DVD that was going to make or break her. JC watched as his girlfriend trembled visibly beside him, opening and closing the case of the video as Liz's co-producer Mike wrapped up his presentation.  

"And now Liz Sharp from our production firm, the mastermind behind 'The Perfect Duet', is going to take the floor."

Just hearing the freshly baked name of JC's new reality show made his eyes roll so hard he was giving himself a headache. 'The Perfect Duet with JC Chasez' was Liz's idea. He thought it was extremely cheesy, but it was the only title he was able to stomach after hours of brainstorming names for his show. He was grateful that Liz stayed true to her word and welcomed all of JC's input. Knowing he was at least in control of some part of this circus gave JC a small sense of power that he needed in order to go through with this. He rubbed Liz's back and gave her a small encouraging smile.

She smiled back and cleared her throat before rising from her seat. "Thanks, Mike." Liz's green eyes swept the room and she lifted the same DVD she had been fidgeting with for an hour into the air. "On this DVD, I have the 15 women who we've narrowed down to bring onto the show. We've conducted background checks and health check-ups as well as standard STD testing for the safety of our star and the contestants, and of course for legal purposes." She loaded the disc onto the PC and turned the large computer monitor to face towards her audience.

For the next 20 minutes, JC watched as girl after girl appeared on the screen, answering the same array of questions: 'Why do you want to meet JC Chasez?' 'Have you ever been on TV before?' 'What makes you unique?'  He had to admit that the situation was finally taking a turn into interesting territory. Almost every girl had worn their skimpiest outfit, and while one or two had no business wearing halter tops and cut-off shorts, JC heard himself laughing along with the reps from the network and even Mike and Liz.

A girl named Tonya brought her guitar and answered nearly every question in a singing voice, which JC hoped she wouldn't continue to do when he met her. Then a girl named Sandra did an interpretive dance to a beat JC didn't recognize when she was asked what made her unique.

When the tape was finally done, JC watched Liz and Mike iron out some last minute details before getting the green light from the VH1 reps. Liz clapped her hands together and told JC to stand up while everyone joined in, celebrating the new project that had finally come together. JC smiled and nodded approvingly at his girlfriend as she mouthed 'thank you' about ten times in a row. 

Ella apologized to Jenn about three times a minute on the drive home.

"Jenn, you know this wasn't--"

"Yeah," Jenn waved her manicured fingers in the air dismissively and continued to stare out the window. "I know you didn't do anything on purpose. And I'm not mad at you, so shut up about it already."

Ella wanted to press the matter more but she figured she was only making things worse. She felt as low as dirt for having gotten the gig Jenn had been looking forward to. But if she was only feeling half guilty, the other half Ella felt was complete and utter shock. How had she gotten past those hundreds of women, including someone as gorgeous as her best friend, and landed a spot on a reality show? Could she actually go through with it? Ella was driving mindlessly and was somewhat startled when she heard Jenn open her door quickly as she came to a stop in her driveway. "Jenn..."

"Look," Jenn interrupted and finally looked Ella in the eye for the first time in what seemed like hours. "Please, just stop apologizing. I don't blame you for anything. Whatever, this isn't my first rejection. Just call me later okay?"

"Jenn," Ella said before the passenger door slammed in her face and stopped her short. She didn't follow Jenn as she took the steps two at a time up to her front door of her apartment then slide inside, leaving Ella completely alone. "Wow." She shifted into reverse and started slowly toward her house, just a few blocks away. When she parked in her own garage, she didn't make a move to turn off the engine. She glanced at the backseat where she had laid a huge manila folder filled with preliminary paperwork, waivers to for background checks and tests, and finally a packet of numbers and schedules for the next two months before shooting began. It was like she had found a job. In fact, the people who auditioned her made it clear that this was a job. Ella rested her forehead against her steering wheel and exhaled loudly. "What the fuck am I doing?"