~~~~~*~~~~~

The next day—Tuesday—started very badly for Clare. Not only had someone ratted her out to Johnny for shouting at JC—which had been accidental, apparently—and she'd consequently received a telling down over her lapse in professionalism from her boss; but ever since she'd been in a foul mood that had only led to her messing up nearly every piece of work that she'd started. She felt like a total jinx, and spent more time re–writing what she'd considered already finished than pressing forward with the huge pile of work that she still had to do. It was terribly frustrating.

At lunchtime, Chris had appeared in her office just as she'd prepared to take a break and eat the soggy cheese sandwich that she'd made that morning. She'd known at the time that it would look even less appetising by lunchtime and that she'd most likely have no interest in eating it, but all the same it gave her an excuse to take a ten minute break.

"'Sup?" Chris asked as he leaned on the doorframe and eyed her carefully. Chris had an irritating habit—irritating to Clare, at least—of being able to look both nonchalant and deeply pensive at the same time. His deep brown eyes had a way of looking straight through her and seeing exactly what she was doing her very best to conceal.

She frowned and narrowed her eyes at him slightly as she leant towards her bag and pulled out her plastic wrapped sandwich. They both eyed it suspiciously as she placed it in the middle of her desk.

Clare was right; it looked even less appetising now. She really should have made the effort to put it in the fridge or something. Given it at least half a chance.

"Is that your word of the day?" She sneered as she glanced up to look at Chris but found him still staring at her sandwich, his mouth pulled up into a slightly amused sneer. She could tell he was waiting to see if she was actually going to eat it, or whether she was going to toss it straight into the trash where it probably belonged.

He flicked his eyes up at her and shrugged good–naturedly. He was expecting her to still be pissed. He'd been there when she'd shouted at JC, after all. Knowing Clare as well as he did, he fully expected her to be snotty for the rest of the week. But least he wasn't the culprit for her bad mood, for once.

"Just wanted to let you know, we're gonna order pizza for lunch—"

"Well, whoop–de–do for you," Clare remarked as she began to peel the plastic wrap off her sandwich. She continued to stare down at it morosely and wished that he'd just leave so she could throw it away and get back to work. She'd skip lunch and get something later on her way home from the hospital. She wasn't that hungry anyway.

Chris let out a frustrated sigh but refused to be swayed. "—So I thought I'd come and ask you if you wanted any—"

"No thanks."

"—There's a deal on so we can get four large pizzas for the price of three—"

"I said no, Chris,"

"—Any toppings as well, you know. You could have your own pizza, if you like? Jamie's brought in salad, so she said no—"

"Chris! I said I don't want any!"

Chris let out another sigh and narrowed his eyes at her as he folded his arms across his chest. He knew that she was only being stubborn, but he wasn't going to take any of her crap. He was trying after all. He didn't have to make the effort. Not when she was the one avoiding him and acting like he'd...

"Clare, knock it off. You can't keep avoiding us all like this, and treating us like we're a big pain in your ass. Or weren't you listening during your little talk on 'professionalism'?"

Clare narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth twisting into a hard line. "Yeah, thanks for that by the way."

"You're welcome," he replied sarcastically and even raised his hand to his temple to offer her a mocking salute. "This, by the way, wasn’t my doing. The only reason that got back to Johnny was because we were concerned about you. He happened to walk in during us discussing it, so you can stop this 'punishing' act you've got going on. We're your friends and we care about you. So put that gross sandwich in the trash where it belongs and come and eat pizza with us."

Clare hesitated, feeling torn. It was an appealing invitation, but still...

"He's gone out for lunch, anyway," Chris replied coolly as he lifted a hand to regard his fingernails, pretending as though he didn't know the reason for her hesitation. Clare tried to control her reaction and not let her head snap up to attention at the mention of... him. Chris looked up and met her eyes, the slightest glint of amusement hidden in their depths.

"Feeling hungrier now?" He teased and flashed her a crooked smile which she couldn't ignore. The corners of her mouth pulled up, and before she knew it she was chuckling slightly.

Maybe it was just relief at knowing that she wouldn't have to eat her miserable lunch all alone in her office; or the fact that he'd known the whole time that she'd have never accepted his invitation unless JC wasn't there. She felt a slight warmth spread through her body at the thought that he'd gone out of his way to include her in the group's lunch plans even though she'd been ignoring them since the 'incident' in the games room.

Chris was right. They were her friends, and they did care about her. It wasn't fair for her to punish the whole group just because one of them had hurt her. She dipped her head as she followed Chris out of the office, feeling ashamed of her actions. She was determined to do better from now on.

~~~~~*~~~~~

As Clare watched Chris battling Joey over a heated game of foosball, she flashed a sideways glance at Lance, who was sitting beside her on the couch, his eyes also fixed on the game. The noise in the room was almost at the point of being deafening with both of the men swearing and shouting at the other as they aggressively slammed their hands over the handles, neither making particularly good progress at beating the other. It wasn't that they were equally matched, but rather that they both sucked.

"Can you believe these guys?" Clare said in a loud, deliberately slow voice to Lance as Joey began to complain—loudly—that Chris was cheating. Although he didn't seem to catch every word that she'd said, Lance heard enough to understand her meaning and began to nod, a wry smile appearing on his face.

"Children!" He remarked playfully as his eyes flicked back to the foosball table. The furious look of determination on Chris's face sent both him and Clare into a fit of giggles.

As Clare laughed, enjoying the sensation of finding something amusing for the first time in ages, a movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention and she turned her head towards the door. She was fully expecting to see Justin return from where he'd gone to hide the evidence of the pizza boxes lest Sara or one of the other choreographers discover them—the group were supposed to be avoiding carbohydrates in the run up to the tour—but instead she ended up making direct eye contact with JC.

Immediately, Clare dropped her eyes to the floor, tensing and clenching her jaw so that even Lance, who hadn't yet noticed JC's arrival, glanced at her in concern, sensing the change in her body language. His eyes flicked up at his band mate and suddenly it all made sense.

Get out, get out... Clare told herself silently as she forced her eyes to remain on the floor. Even that brief glance was enough for the look of surprise and shame on JC's face to embed in her memory, and even as she stared down unseeingly at the carpeted floor below her his face was all she could see.

She'd been having a good time with the rest of the group and had enjoyed being part of their boisterous and teasing banter once again, but all that was forgotten and wiped away by one look at JC. Clare felt her stomach constrict and the tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes and she knew that she had to get out. Only he was standing in the way of the only exit...

Clare glanced up quickly to see whether or not it was possible for her to sneak past JC without having to talk to him when she noticed a presence by his shoulder. The smile disappeared from her face as she saw JC lift his arm and sidestep slightly to allow the slightly smaller woman standing behind him to step into the room.

His eyes remained fixed on Clare's face even as his girlfriend brushed past him and he missed the winning smile that Alyson gave him as she entered the room. She didn't seem to care that he was focused on somebody else, and she shook her head with a flourish, letting her dark hair fan out slightly before it bounced back down onto her shoulders. Alyson knew that she had the attention of almost every male in the room and she was loving it.

Clare bit down hard on her tongue as she saw Alyson preen in front of the men and she fought back the urge to utter the cutting remarks that were flowing through her head. It annoyed her that they were so clearly and obviously falling into her trap and she glanced around the room at the men as her irritation at them returned. Clearly all it took to get their attention was long hair and big boobs.

Clare glanced over at JC and narrowed her eyes. Even if she gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he hadn't expected her to be there, bringing his new girlfriend to her workplace and allowing her to flaunt herself around was a really shitty thing for him to do. Clare was surprised. It wasn't like JC to be so thoughtless and insensitive.

"Hi, guys!" Alyson said brightly as though she'd known them for as many years as Clare. She flashed them each a winning smile that seemed to send them all straight back to the twelfth grade. Clare was grateful at that moment that Justin wasn't with the group. For if Alyson had used any of her tactics on him she'd have been unable to hold herself back, both for herself and most especially for Libby. Clare knew what Alyson was up to and the thought disgusted her. She might have their attention for now, but her scheming, manipulative ways wouldn't remain hidden forever. She hadn't so easily forgotten about the little incident with the newspaper...

As if noticing Clare's presence for the first time, Alyson smiled brightly at her and made her way over to where Clare was still sitting beside Lance. Clare wanted to jump up and run as fast as she could from the room to avoid this inevitable, excruciating moment but her legs were ignoring her brain's instructions and she was left helpless in her seat.

"You're Clare, right?" Alyson asked her as she scrunched up her face and tipped her head to one side as if trying to remember where she had seen Clare before. Clare wanted to slap her, but managed to restrain herself. Realising that if she opened her mouth that something foul would come out, Clare remained silent but nodded her head in reply.

"Hi! I'm Alyson!"

Clare resisted rolling her eyes at her statement. Thanks for pointing out the obvious... Alyson flashed her a winning smile and held out her left hand for Clare to shake.

A glimmer of something sparkly caught Clare's eye, and she found herself staring at Alyson's hand as she held it out in front of her face. At once Clare felt as if the air had been punched out of her lungs. Alyson was wearing a large diamond ring on her third finger, which could only mean one thing— She was engaged.

Staring back up at the woman with her mouth falling open in shock, Clare noticed how Alyson's grin broadened at her reaction. It was clearly what she had been hoping for. With a sickening feeling Clare understood exactly why she had been singled out. Alyson was clearly relishing having the opportunity to tell her face to face that she'd won; that JC was hers.

Alyson glanced at JC over her shoulder and beamed, her eyes shining with pleasure. "I can finally get a woman's opinion on my ring!" She giggled as she looked back at Clare's face, the excitement in her eyes causing a lump to form in Clare's throat. Clare watched in barely disguised horror as Alyson wiggled her fingers slightly letting the light catch the many facets of the large diamond in the centre of the platinum band. "JC has been so shady about it, not wanting me to tell anyone. But I'm just bursting to! I can't keep it a secret any longer!"

Alyson grinned and looked up from admiring her ring to meet Clare's eyes once again and Clare was certain that she saw them narrow infinitesimally. The challenge in them wasn't lost on Clare. Alyson's eyes said everything that she wasn't able to say aloud. He's mine. It's over.

Clare stared her down as she felt the trembles begin to take over her body. Why hadn't she got out when she'd had the chance? Alyson continued to beam at her, absorbing every glimmer of shock and hurt that crossed her face and radiating with pleasure over each one. It made Clare sick to think that this was who JC had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. This was who he preferred over her. It was the ultimate stab in her already fragile heart.

"So what do you think, Clare?" Alyson asked brightly as the tears began to fall down Clare's cheeks, much to Clare's horror. Alyson lifted her hand and once again wiggled her fingers, smiling in satisfaction as the light reflected off the diamond sending rainbows dancing around the room. If she noticed Clare's tears, she pretended not to. "Is it a keeper?"

Clare opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Her head jerked to the doorway, and for a moment she thought that maybe JC was going to say something—the noise having come from where he was standing—but then Clare noticed Justin brushing past his band mate, entering the room with a look of puzzled surprise on his face when he noticed Alyson and sensed the heady tension in the room. It was the first time in her life that Clare felt completely and overwhelmingly grateful for Justin entering a room.

"What's goin' on?" Justin asked innocently, his eyes searching JC's face for some kind of explanation. Clare realised at once that this interruption was her golden opportunity and she dashed to her feet, almost knocking Alyson to the side in her haste to get away. She muttered a quiet sob of an apology—to whom, she wasn't sure—and kept her head down as she charged across the room and past Justin, who quickly dodged out of her way with a whistle of surprise.

Clare waited until she was out of sight from the games room—should anyone stick their head out the door and see her—before breaking out into a run, the tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision as she followed the familiar route of the corridor towards the nearest exit. She had to get out. Get as far away as she physically could from her, him and the whole sorry mess.

It was now complete. There was now nothing left in her life that hadn't been completely destroyed. Not only had she practically lost her best friend, but now her heart had been completely shattered into a million pieces. The person who she had always considered to be the potential love of her life was out of her reach forever. He wasn't just in a relationship; he was preparing to commit himself to another woman for the rest of his natural life. He didn't want her. He never would.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare ended up in the one place that she knew that she shouldn't have allowed herself to go. It hadn't been a conscious decision, but like Libby before her, somehow the ocean had sent her out a siren call that she'd been unable to ignore, and she'd been drawn to the beach as though pulled by an invisible chord.

Clare hadn't been back since that night with the group—for obvious reasons. When she'd discovered the truth—that this was where Libby had had her accident, not ten minutes’ walk from their apartment—she'd been crushed and had stayed away simply for the associations the place now held for her. However, now that her insides were tearing apart it seemed the most obvious place to run to.

She parked her car haphazardly across two bays and rushed towards the shore, barely noticing whether she remembered to lock the doors behind her or not. She didn't care. Her feet sank into the sand but she carried on regardless, barely noticing the resistance it added to her steps.

She rushed ahead until she could go no further, her body shivering and shaking as she gave in to the sobs that were bubbling up from deep inside her. Her chest felt as though it were tearing in half and she fell forward, only managing to press her palms out in front of her as an afterthought so that she didn't end up face down in the sand.

She couldn't believe how her life had changed in such a short space of time, and for the first time in her life she felt the utter despair that could only come with hearing repeated and devastating news. What was there left for her to cling on to? What was there in her life that could ever bring her happiness again?

Engaged! What was JC thinking? It'd been... what? Two days since he'd told her that he and Alyson were getting back together, and now they were already engaged? What was that about? Had he changed personalities overnight? He was always second guessing his actions and rarely acted rashly. But Clare couldn't believe that he hadn't jumped into proposing to Alyson. And that was with her disregarding the obvious fact that the woman was clearly a manipulative, self–centred and conniving bitch. How was it that she could see this but JC couldn't? Why couldn't he see that he was throwing away his happiness and Clare's with it?

Clare allowed her body to release all the pain, hurt and torment that she'd been holding in since Libby's accident. It was the first time that she'd allowed herself to really go to the dark place where there was no hope and she let the tears flow freely from her eyes. They burned as they made tracks down her cheeks.

Is this really how my life is meant to be? Am I really supposed to lose everything dear to me and yet somehow carry on?

His name repeated over and over again in her mind until the stabbing pain in her heart seemed almost unbearable. Josh... Josh... How can I go on knowing that there's no chance for me?

The thought tore her up inside. He was involved in everything that she loved about her life—her job, her friends, even her choice of where to live. He was the reason that she woke up each morning with a smile; the cause of the thrill she'd get when she'd hear his music on the radio, or even hear him singing as he walked along the corridors of the Compound when he thought no one was around. He was the person who sent her heart racing when he walked through the door; the owner of the voice she'd listen out for even when she were in a crowd and surrounded by people. He was the cause of almost every good memory that she had of her times working at the Compound. He was everything.

Clare tried to push the thoughts of JC from her brain to give her heart some relief but she soon found that she couldn't. The harder she tried, the more she was reminded of the good times they'd shared and how much she had come to love him. She hated herself for it and for the way that she was feeling, but it was already too late. The damage had been done.

+ + +

It had been Clare's first day at the Compound—and at her new job—and she'd been understandably riddled with nerves and anxiety. She'd never worked so closely with a band of musicians before and she didn't really have an idea of what to expect. Ever since hearing from Johnny Wright over the phone that she'd been given the job, Clare had been filled with jittery, excited nerves and had lain awake night after night imagining how it would be to work with the new group, *NSYNC.

As she'd driven to the Compound for only the second time—the first having been on the day of her interview – Clare had flicked on the car stereo and sang along to the words of *NSYNC's newest hit – 'Tearin' Up My Heart'.

She'd realised at the time that she should probably have been embarrassed to be singing along to the radio in her car—let alone knowing all the words to a song that she probably shouldn't have enjoyed as much as she did, but she hadn't cared. Before she'd even seen a picture of the members of *NSYNC she'd known that she'd liked their music, regardless of what they looked like.

Clare was a teeny–bopper at heart, and couldn't resist anything that had a strong backing track and slushy lyrics even though she'd known then, as she knew now, that she really should've had a more eclectic taste at her age.

As she'd parked her car in the small car lot at the front of the Compound and made her way towards the main building, Clare had been met by a middle–aged woman who'd introduced herself as Johnny Wright's wife, Donna. There had been another woman besides Clare starting a new job that day, too, and she'd been introduced to Clare as Jamie King. Little did she know then, but Clare had just been introduced to someone she would later come to think of as a second–self and would come to love as a sister.

Thanks to their shared first day, Jamie and Clare had bonded quickly over their shared nerves and anticipations of what was to come; and they'd become fast friends before the first week had been out.

As Donna had shown the pair of them around the Compound, Clare had grown more and more nervous as she'd known that at some point she would be introduced to the group members. She needn't have worried. They were so relaxed and casual with her that they'd all easily fallen into a playful banter, and Clare had known straight away that she would feel at home around them. The way they teased and poked fun at each other made her laugh and she found them pleasantly welcoming whilst remaining professional. It'd helped her to set aside her nerves much sooner than she'd expected.

Later on in the day, Jamie and Clare had been left alone to settle into their own offices and JC had turned up unexpectedly and presented Clare with a cheeseburger, large fries and a strawberry milkshake from the local McDonalds drive in.

"A diet of champions!" He'd told her with a grin as he'd pulled a spare chair over to her desk and settled down easily into it. He'd leant his elbows on the desk and cheekily stuffed a fry into his mouth, raising his eyebrows expectantly at her as though he wouldn't be satisfied until she was eating, too. Clare had been gobsmacked but enchanted at the effort he'd put into making her feel at home and wanting to become her friend.

They'd talked for hours about everything and nothing as Clare had tried to get her head around her new duties. She'd known right then from the way that he'd been so comfortable around her that the pair of them would become good friends.

+ + +

If only I could go back to that day, Clare thought miserably as her tears continued to fall. What I'd give to relive it all over again. To go back and change things so that the ending might be different. If only...

There was so much that she'd go back and change. And not just the big things, either. She'd spend more time away from her desk for a start. She'd have fewer conversations where she'd have one eye fixed on her computer screen. She'd laugh more, and not just with a roll of her eyes or a smirk but proper laughter; where the person knew that she found them funny, not that she was just pretending not to. And, she'd be more open about her feelings. Not just with JC, but with all of her friends. She'd fight back her awkwardness and discomfort and be honest about how she really felt; how much she cared about them and how important they all were to her.

As she considered these thoughts, Clare became aware of the sound of her cell–phone ringing from deep inside her bag, and she reached inside and pulled it out to see who was calling her. Although she knew that it was unlikely, every call she received she always hoped—with bated breath—that it might be the hospital ringing her to say that Libby had regained consciousness. Every time it turned out not to be her stomach sunk to the floor with disappointment.

Clare sniffed loudly and wiped away the tears from her eyes with the corner of her sleeve so that she could better see the name on the small screen. The phone continued to vibrate in her hand, her chirpy ringtone grating against her fragile nerves. She really should change it to something that better fitted her mood, she thought gloomily. 'Yesterday' by the Beatles, perhaps.

Clare narrowed her eyes when she saw Chris's name appear below the call–incoming icon in the centre of the screen. With an unhappy sigh she pressed the cancel button and tossed the cell–phone back into her open bag. She really didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment and Chris—of all people—should've known that.

Just as Clare took a deep breath, sucking the moist ocean air into her lungs and ran a slightly trembling hand over her stinging, wet cheeks, the shrill ringing of the phone resumed once again. Clare let out a huff of frustration, fully preparing to completely ignore it and let it go straight to voicemail. So what if Chris was concerned about her? It was none of his business where she had gone, or what she was doing. She was an adult, for goodness sakes. He didn't need to check up on her like she was incapable of taking care of herself.

The phone rang another three times before Clare lost her patience and answered it in a rage. "What?"

"Hellooo, where are you?" Chris said cheerily through very bad reception and Clare momentarily pulled the phone away from her ear, cringing at it as the sound of traffic and crackling distortion assaulted her ear.

"Where are you?" She asked tersely as she tentatively placed the phone back against her ear and threw his question straight back at him. If he was out looking for her—as she suspected—then she wasn't going to make it easy for him to find her. She needed space and time to herself.

"I'm in the car looking for you," Chris replied, ignoring the unbridled anger in her voice. He wasn't going to be dissuaded from finding her and checking that she was okay. His concern for her was genuine. "Where are you?"

"In my own personal hell," Clare muttered darkly as she scowled out across the waves. Even she was surprised at how quickly her tears had turned to anger. She supposed it had something to do with hearing Chris' voice and the connotations it held for her. It didn't seem to matter which member of the group she spoke to; her thoughts usually flashed straight to JC.

"Address, please?"

"You're better off where you are, Chris. Trust me."

"That's not what I asked, and neither is it the point," Chris replied and Clare could tell from the sudden change in the background noise that he'd pulled off the main roads; the sound of vehicles passing by and rubber tyres turning over asphalt dissipated considerably. "I'm your friend and I want to make sure that you're okay."

"I don't have any friends left," Clare said bitterly as fresh tears began to make tracks down her cheeks. Just saying the words aloud physically hurt her and Clare felt a stabbing pain in her chest when she thought about Libby lying still in her hospital bed. Shame coloured her cheeks at the memory. She knew that her words weren't true and came from the place of bitterness inside of her, but Clare was at the point where she just wanted to lash out at anyone so that they hurt as much as she did.

"Ouch," Chris muttered dryly and let out a dark chuckle. "There's the self–pity talkin'. Come on, let me 'ave it."

"It's not meant for you."

"Nevertheless, I'm the one here. Come on, Clare, talk to me."

Clare opened her mouth to speak but the line unexpectedly went dead and she heard the throbbing peep in her ear that told her that the call had been interrupted. She frowned and pulled the phone away from her ear to check her signal strength. As she was staring at the screen in confusing, seeing no reason why the call should have ended so abruptly, she heard the first indication of footsteps approaching from behind her and Clare felt her stomach sink with disappointment. He'd found her.

"Bingo. My sixth sense strikes again," Chris chuckled and Clare peered over her shoulder at him, the frustration at being found evident on her face. He met her eyes and flashed her a goofy smile before settling himself down on the sand beside her. He left a comfortable distance between them and bent his legs so that he could rest his elbows on his knees.

"You were saying..." Chris prodded gently as he avoided her eyes and stared out at the crashing waves on the shore in front of them.

"How did you find me?"

Chris hesitated and Clare could tell that he was giving his answer some thought before he spoke. When he did his voice was gentle but carried an underlying edge. "Something told me that you'd be here," he said slowly. "It's the perfect place to come and torment yourself. Why not add more guilt and sadness to your shoulders by coming here? It's the perfect place."

Clare was surprised by his answer and felt embarrassed that her behaviour had been so predictable. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a silent 'oh'. Chris turned to meet her eyes, a knowing smile on his face and one eye squinted shut to block out the sunlight that was shining right in his eyes.

"Don't feel bad," he told her with a modest shrug. "It's exactly what I would have done, too."

Clare looked into his eyes and for the first time she noticed the sadness that lingered there. She so rarely saw this side of him—the serious, thoughtful side—and she felt touched and slightly unsure at seeing him let his guard down and revealing his vulnerability. Something in his face, his eyes, told her that it was okay to unburden on him, that he was a safe shoulder to cry on and that anything that she told him in confidence would remain between them. For the first time, Clare saw not just comedian Chris, but her friend.

Something inside of her snapped, and she began to talk, telling him everything that she'd been hiding within her for so long. There wasn't a subject that she didn't cover; Libby's accident, and how scared she'd been about potentially losing her friend. Her feelings for JC and the shock and grief she'd been going through since hearing about his engagement. Even things she hadn't even been able to admit out loud—how she'd begun to wonder if she even wanted to continue working with the group and whether or not she should return home to the UK.

Chris let her talk and listened in silence, even going so far as to place a comforting around her shoulder—as close as he'd ever physically come to comforting her—when her voice had trembled and the tears had spilled over. Clare had understood then, at that moment, why he was such an integral and essential part of *NSYNC. He was a joker and a clown, he often behaved much younger than his years, but he had a big heart and cared deeply for his friends. He was a good listener, and when in the right mood was supportive and understanding to a fault. He concealed it well, but he was really a very sensitive and kind–hearted man.

In those moments on the beach—moments that slowly spread into hours—Clare felt a fondness develop for Chris that she'd never experienced with him before. She'd always considered JC to be her closest friend in the group, but there were things that she hadn't even shared with him that she'd been able to tell Chris. She realised that their friendship had turned a corner that she hoped would bring the pair of them closer—baring her soul to him could do nothing else—and she was grateful for him having come after her. Without her even being aware of it, he'd become someone she could count on; someone she could trust and depend on. He'd become a good friend.

~~~~~*~~~~~