Casey made her way through the aisle of bunks to the kitchenette, to find Dara at the table. Her laptop and an assortment papers were spread out in front of her. She was in the midst of what sounded like an important call, and so Casey made an effort to be quiet. She opened a drawer and carefully rummaged through it until she came across a bag of her favorite chips.

“Keep me updated,” Dara said before snapping her phone shut. She groaned, and typed something on her computer.

“Everything OK?” Casey asked tentatively.

Another of Dara’s clients, two brothers that made up a singer-songwriter duo, were in the midst of a financial tug of war with their label and lately her manager had been expending lots of energy in trying to avert a major crisis.

“Uh…” Dara typed a bit more before looking up at Casey. “Everything’s fine. More or less. It’s actually good that you’re here. Have a seat.”

Casey grabbed a bottle of water to go with her chips and slid onto the bench across from her manager. “What’s up?”

“First of all, there’s this.” Dara pushed a piece of paper toward her. “With this leg of the tour winding down, it’s time to start really getting serious about your next album.”

Casey paused in opening her chips, putting the bag down to take the paper. Lips moving silently, she read the list of familiar names on the page. “What’s this?”

Dara smiled. “That’s the list of people you’ve expressed interest in working with, who’ve also expressed interest in working with you.”

“Seriously?” Casey grinned over the top of the paper.

The topic of her second album had been much discussed between her manager and the powers that be at the record label. At their request she’d named a bunch of people she wanted to work with, with no hopes of anything actually coming to pass. She was thrilled to see more than a few of those names in front of her.

“Seriously.” Dara nodded. “We’re starting to work out scheduling details but of course it all depends on what happens with the European leg of this tour. “

That had been another thing Casey was wondering about. JC had told her that since *NSYNC wanted her back, it was pretty much in the bag, but she hadn’t heard anything about it directly from Dara.

“Do you think they’ll ask me back?”

“It’s mostly a done deal. There will be paperwork to file and checks to sign, but unless something completely unexpected happens between now and then, you’re in. Unless you decide you don’t want to do it…”

Casey looked up sharply. “Why would I decide that? You keep saying how great this tour’s been for my career.”

Dara shrugged. “I’m just saying, you never know. Some other opportunity, an even better one, could pop up between now and then. It’s always a good idea to keep your options open.”

Her manager wasn’t usually given to cryptic messages, but there was something about the expression on her face that gave Casey pause. She tabled the discussion for the moment.

With her eyes still lingering over the names on the list, she muttered, “If you say so.”

“There is...something else.” Dara’s expression was somber as she looked over at Casey. “Right now it’s a small thing, and I don’t want you to worry, but at the same time I think you should be aware.”

Casey uncapped the water bottle and took a generous swig as excited anticipation gave way to nervous trepidation. “That sounds...ominous.” She forced out a chuckle.

Dara took a deep breath and continued. “Jive received word that Tony may be shopping a book. It’s supposed to be a kind of inside the industry, behind-the-scenes tell-all. And, well, the rumor is that his time with you, before and during the tour, would factor in heavily.”

Casey stared back at her manager, eyes unblinking. “His time with me? What...what does that mean exactly? Like, professionally? Or, um...personally?”

There was the music she’d made with Tony, songs he’d produced for her that she was, largely, proud of. It was early in her career, before she’d been signed or had a manager. And despite her opinion of him as a person, the music they’d made together was good. But their personal relationship was an entirely different story. A story she knew he’d embellish on, if not outright lie about. And most of what went on between them, personally, was not something she wanted anyone--especially not her family and friends-- to know anything about.

“We think he’s going for the personal angle. Considering your growing popularity, some people may be interested in what he has to say.”

Casey stared at her manager, a stricken look on her face.

“Casey, I don’t want you to obsess over this,” Dara continued. “It may very well turn out to be nothing. And the most important thing you need to remember is that you have a lot of powerful people who are very invested in you and your career and they’re not going to let anything--or anyone--jeopardize that.”

Casey swallowed hard, trying to ignore the feeling of nauseousness growing in her stomach. “OK. So you'll keep me updated or whatever?”

Dara patted her hand. “I debated telling you, because it's not really an issue at this point. But I didn't want you to be caught unaware, just in case.”

***

Casey was quiet on the ride back to the hotel.

Onstage, under the lights and in front of the crowd, once the music started there was nothing else in her mind but the performance. It was like being in a trance--inasmuch as she knew what being in a trance was like. But when she was singing and dancing, nothing else mattered.

Offstage was a different story.

She was vaguely aware of the weight of JC’s arm around her shoulders, and the fact that he and Lawrence and Jasmine were having a goodnatured debate comparing and contrasting Michael Jackson and Prince. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat, lost in her own thoughts.

She hadn’t told anyone, but she’d begun searching the internet for anything she could find about Tony, just on the off chance he’d mention her. There was, to her knowledge, no news on his book. Nor had she heard about any more interviews he’d given. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t done with promoting himself by using her name. And the damage he could potentially do to her, to that end, terrified her.

She wasn’t proud of her beginnings with Tony. Definitely wasn’t the sort of story she’d ever want getting back to her parents. Or, she shuddered to think, Matthew. And of course there was JC. And the night that a trip to get ice changed everything between them. What would he think if he knew it was kind of a pattern with her?

She assumed Tony would brush over his part in everything that happened. Would flat out lie about the real reason he was no longer on her tour, same as he’d done on the radio show. But if he mixed in just enough truth, people would probably believe it.

“Time to wake up,” JC whispered in her ear.

Casey opened her eyes to see that the vehicle was stopped in front of the hotel. She smiled up at him. “I was just resting.”

He stared at her appraisingly, while the other inhabitants exited the vehicle. “Are you OK?”

He was doing more of that lately. Asking if she was OK. Watching her when he didn’t think she noticed.

She glanced beyond his shoulder and, seeing the coast was clear, brushed a quick kiss on his lips. “How about we go upstairs and you tell me?” With a wink, she climbed over him to get out of SUV.

***

It was silent in the room save for their breathing, his a bit more labored than hers. And that made sense, considering he’d done most of the work that evening. He would’ve been OK with that, because there had been plenty of times that she’d been the one doing the heavy lifting so to speak.

But it was more than that.

She’d initiated it, but she’d been quieter than normal. He was used to her talking during sex, explicit words detailing exactly what she liked about what he was doing. Pointed questions, asking him if he liked what she was doing back. And the sounds she made… Sometimes the thought of her moaning in his ear, the way she breathed his name, the way, when he was hitting a particular spot...sometimes just thinking about it was enough to make him hard.

But that evening, there was no talk. And there was no breathing his name. And even when she came--and he was sure she had, could feel her rhythmic clenching around his dick--it was with a catch in her breath and a soft sigh.

And she touched him differently that night. Gingerly. Like she was afraid she might break him. And it wasn't the first time it had happened in the past week.

When it was over, and she lay beneath him with her eyes closed, JC eased off of her and onto his side next to her. "Casey?

“Hmm?”

He touched her cheek softly, but she didn't move. “Where are you?”

Her eyes opened slowly and she met his gaze. "What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He leaned in closer to her, wrapping one arm her midsection. “Where are you?”

She blinked slowly and sniffed. “I'm right here."

JC pursed his lips and stared at her. "Your body may be here but the rest of you is miles away. Tell me what’s wrong."

She grimaced, rolling over and away from him. “I’m fine, JC. I keep telling you that and you keep asking me.”

She never lied, exactly. But there were levels to what she considered honest. Time and proximity had taught him that. But he didn’t say it.  

“Then maybe that should tell you something,” he said. “Like if I keep asking, there’s a reason I don’t believe you.”

Silence loomed between them as she said nothing in response.

***

“JC?” she said quietly. “Are you awake?” She pushed his arm gently and when he didn’t move, she slipped from between the sheets.

She grabbed his shirt where it lay at the bottom of the bed, and buttoned enough of the buttons that she was covered. After kneeling down and grabbing something from her suitcase, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the living area of the suite.

Casey situated herself in a chair by the window, pushing the curtain back just enough to let a sliver of moonlight through. She curled her legs up underneath her, slid her headphones onto her ears, and pressed play on the portable cd player.

She stared out into the blackness of the night beyond the window. The night was clear, and she hoped that some of that clarity would cut through her cluttered thoughts.

He’d told her she was miles away, and despite her denials, he was right. She stalled for a bit, while he fumed, before giving him a version of the truth, mentioning the impending second album. Told him she was already afraid of the sophomore slump. Told him she was stressed and feeling a little overwhelmed.

JC stared down at her first, in a way that was becoming familiar to her. A way that said he was aware that she wasn't being wholly honest, but the he wouldn't press the issue to appease her. And then he was his characteristically sweet and encouraging self. Told her she couldn't worry about critics and she only needed to be true to herself and the artist that she was. Told her she was amazingly talented and that he was sure she’d make magic in the studio.

She felt a little guilty, not exactly lying to him, but not totally telling the truth. She felt guiltier still, watching him even as he watched her. The tell-tale squint of his eyes. The way his lips pursed ever so slightly. He knew it, too. And when he’d fallen asleep eventually, her head nestled against him, she sat up and gazed down at his face.

The words she wanted to say were bitter on her tongue. My psycho ex-boyfriend may be writing a book that may or may not detail certain aspects of our relationship that I'd rather not have documented. And by the way, the way he and I got together doesn’t have anything to do with the way you and I got together.

Of course she was maybe getting ahead of herself. Dara said that the powers that be were keeping a close watch on things. And time would prove that true or false.

But for now, in the dark, she couldn't turn off her thoughts. Because maybe it would actually be something more. Something bigger. Something that had the potential to impact not only her career, but maybe every relationship she had.

***

JC reached out for her, feeling nothing but cool emptiness next to him; She'd obviously been out of bed for awhile. With a grunt, he pushed himself to sitting and blinked, bleary eyes slowly adjusting to the dark.

The bathroom door was open, pitch blackness beyond.

"Casey?" he called softly. Several seconds passed with him waiting for a response and he finally peeled the covers back and got out of bed.

He rubbed his arms against the chill in the room and stepped across the bedroom's threshold into the living area.

She was curled up in a chair, wearing his button down shirt, legs tucked beneath her. She'd pushed back the curtains a bit and her face was illuminated with the soft glow of the moon.

He moved closer, saying her name softly again. He could hear the faint sound of what sounded like a trumpet coming from her direction, and when he was stepped nearer to her he could see the headphones in place over her ears, the personal compact disc player in her lap.

Seconds passed and he watched her. She was so still, so silent, but he saw her blink every so often. When she didn’t notice how close he was, he reached out and touched her gently.

She started, sitting up straight and pushing her headphones down around her neck.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you," he said, squeezing her shoulder.

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t hear you come in the room.”

He gestured down to her headphones with a smirk. He could clearly make out Miles Davis’ “Flamenco Sketches” playing through the earpieces. “Yeah, well, I’m not surprised.”

She smiled sheepishly and turned off the music. “I guess it’s kinda loud, huh.”

He knelt down beside her and placed one hand on her knee. “You OK, Case?”

She stared back at him for a moment, a flash of something in her eyes that was gone as quickly as he saw it. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep. I've gotten used to the kinda sleep I get on the bus, I guess. The constant motion."

He nodded, sure he didn't believe her, but not sure it was the time to press the issue. He stood up and reached a hand out to her. "Come back to bed; I'll help you fall asleep."

She gave him a crooked grin. "How? You gonna sing to me?"

He pulled her until she stood up next to him. "If that's what it takes."

After sliding the headphones from around her neck, she left the disc player on the chair and followed him back to bed. Once they'd settled beneath the still cool sheets, Casey on her side with him curled against her from behind, she laughed softly.

"So do you take requests, or is it performer's choice?"

"I'll sing whatever you want me to sing...if I know the words," he whispered against her ear.

She closed her eyes and slid her fingers through his.