"I need your help Uncle Lance," McKenzie turned to her uncle that Friday as soon as the door shut behind her mother.

"I thought I smelled something fishy," Lance smirked. He had been surprised when Rachel had called that morning, McKenzie wanted to spend the night at his house. He readily agreed, looking forward to spending time with his niece. Anything to help her through this rough patch. When he saw McKenzie's eyes fill with tears, he rushed forward. "Hey, what's wrong? What's going on?"

"Everything is a mess and it's all my fault," McKenzie cried when Lance pulled her into a hug.

"No," Lance shushed his niece. "Come on." With an arm around her shoulders he led her into the living room where they sat on the couch.

"Do you need me to leave?" Michael asked. Sometimes he felt like he was imposing on Lance's relationship with McKenzie even after they had been together all this time. Lance tried to tell him how silly it was, but there were times he felt like an intruder though he loved McKenzie just as much as Lance did. He considered all Lance's nieces and nephews his own.

"No, you can stay." McKenzie sniffled. "Please."

Michael grabbed the box of tissues from the nearby table and sat next to McKenzie on the couch. He handed her a tissue before putting the box on the coffee table in front of them. His heart flopped at the smile she sent him. He placed an arm on her shoulders and hugged her to him.

"What's going on Kenz?" Lance asked once McKenzie got her tears under control.

"Do you know that Mom and JC broke up?"

"I do," Lance nodded. He gave JC an earful when he found out, none to happy. He barely let JC speak two words during his angry tirade, completely pissed that after everything Rachel had revealed in the past couple of weeks, he'd pull up stakes and walk away. Lance hadn't felt any better after he hung up the phone. His phone had beeped not even a minute after the phone call with a long text message from JC.

‘I love your sister. I have waited fifteen years for this. I am not walking away from her and Kenzi. Nothing Rachel told me changes how I feel about her. I love her. I love Kenzi. I have no idea how to help them. I don't want to mess this up. You joke that Kenzi thinks I hung the moon. That's not the truth anymore. I'm not even sure what she thinks of me. She's shut me out and I'm not sure how to even reach her. I don't want to put Rachel in the middle. Not after everything. It's that last thing she needs to be dealing with. I'm not giving up on either of them. Never. I love them. I would have married Rachel back then. In a heartbeat. If I had known. If she would have let me. I would have been a father to Kenzi. At times I wanted to be her father. I will fix this as soon as I can figure out how to make Kenzi not hate me anymore.'

"It's my fault," McKenzie whispered.

"What do you mean it's your fault?" Michael asked.

"I've been such a brat. I've been mean to him. I've ignored him. How could he stay? Why would he? He rearranged his schedule to be there on Wednesday and I..." The tears started to roll down her cheeks again. "He hates me. That's why he broke up with Mom isn't it? It's because of me."

"I outta punch him in the nose," Lance muttered as he pulled McKenzie into a hug.  "Sweetie, he doesn't hate you. Shhh come on. Don't cry. I promise you, Kenz. He doesn't hate you."

"Everyone probably hates me."

"No," Lance said firmly, pulling away from his niece. He placed his hands on her shoulders so he could look at her. "Nobody hates you. Why do you think that?"

"Look at me," McKenzie cried looking at her uncle. "I'm a constant reminder of what happened. It was because of me that Mom and JC didn't get together in the beginning. Now it's because of me they aren't together now."

"Kenzi," Lance started but stopped. He patted his empty pockets. He looked at Michael. "Where's my phone?"

"Uhm..." Michael looked around the living room, not seeing it. "Oh. I think you left it on the desk after the show was over. I'll get it."

"Why do you need your phone?" McKenzie asked wide eyed as Michael quickly left the room to grab Lance's phone. "Who are you doing to call? I don't want to talk to anyone. Uncle Lance...no..."

"Relax," Lance told McKenzie. Michael came back with Lance's phone in his hand. "Thanks," he said as he took it from his fiancée's hand. "I'm not going to call anyone. I want to show you something."

"What?" McKenzie sniffed and took Lance's phone from him when he held it out. His messages were open. At the top of the screen was the name JC. "I don't..." she shook her head and started to hand the phone back to her uncle, but he stopped her.

"Read that." Lance told her. "He sent that to me yesterday. Read it." He watched as McKenzie looked down at the screen. He only knew she was reading by the fact that more tears had begun to fall and her thumb on the screen scrolling up to read the rest of the message. "He doesn't hate you. Not even a little bit, okay?" He whispered softly.

"He thinks I hate him?" McKenzie raised her head to look at Lance. He was blurry in front of her do to her eyes filled with tears. "I don't. I don't hate him."

"I know you don't."

"I thought it was him." McKenzie looked back at the message JC had sent Lance. "I thought he was my father...everything I found said it was..."

"That happens when we really want something to be true. We start seeing things that aren't there." Michael said.

"Nobody looks at you and thinks about how you were created, Kenz." Lance told her softly. "We look at you and see a smart, funny, talented, beautiful girl. I am so proud of you. You moved away from all your friends, the only home you've ever known and you've rocked it out here. Completely kicked ass."

"I'm afraid," McKenzie sniffed again, wiping at her eyes.

"Why are you afraid?"

"I don't want to turn out like him." McKenzie whispered.

"Turn out look who? Your father?"

"Don't call him that!" McKenzie snapped. "He's not my father. He'll never be my father."

"Hey. Okay. Okay." Lance said calmly.

"What makes you think you'll turn out like him?" Michael asked, watching as McKenzie tapped Lance's phone when it darkened to bring up the message from JC again.

"I'm a part of him. I have half of his DNA."

It was at the moment that Lance hated how smart McKenzie was. Hated how she wasn't younger and didn't know about genetic make up. Hated how he couldn't tell her the man who was her father was a bad man and they never had to talk about it again.

"That's not how it works, Kenz." Michael took over. "Just because someone does something bad doesn't mean their offspring is likely to follow in their footsteps. You've heard about nature versus nurture right?"

"A little..."

"It's basically an argument on what affects us more: genetics or environmental factors. There are people who believe everything we are is passed down. Then the other side believes we start off as a blank slate and are shaped by what surrounds us."

"How does this help me?" McKenzie sniffled, looking at Michael.

"Nurturers believe that we are shaped by our environment. We learn right and wrong, how to act, our behaviors and actions from those around us. You've been surrounded by some pretty incredible people all your life: your mom, all your grandparents, your aunts, uncles. Even those outside your family such as teachers, neighbors, the people you knew from church, your classmates. Characters you've watched on TV or read in a book. Every person has left some sort of mark on you. Even if you don't think they left a mark."

"I understand but I'm not sure how this is supposed to help me."

Lance smiled patiently. "Do you believe that you were just predestined by genetics? It didn't matter anything your mom taught you?"

"Genetics has to play a part in it. I mean, look at me."

"See now you're muddling the argument," Michael smiled. "When it comes to nature versus nurture, we're not talking about looks. That is something that boils down to genetics. Nature versus nurture boils down to personality, behaviors, characteristics."

"Besides," Lance grinned. "You are a mini Rachel. You look like exactly like her."

"So the Bass genes are superior?"

"Something like that," Lance laughed. "You also need to look at yourself on the inside. You are an amazing girl, Kenzi. You're a great teammate, you're a great friend. You're caring. You're kind. You help. You have a big heart."

"What your mom told you doesn't change any of that." Michael said. "You don't forget everything you are because you find a piece to a puzzle."

"You don't even need that piece." Lance continued. "It doesn't fit with any of the pieces that already make up you."

"I never thought of it like that." McKenzie looked down at the phone which had went black. She pressed the button the bottom and the phone lite up with a locked screen. Her uncle's hand came in to view as he typed in his pin number, unlocking the screen. JC's message appeared back on the screen. "Can you take me to JC's?"

Lance smiled. "Let's go."

*~*

Rachel sat in the attic clad in a pair of black leggings and an oversized Golden Girls teal t-shirt knotted at the small of her back. Her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy bun. She held a wine glass in one hand. The rest of the bottle sat off to the side. Spread out on the floor around her where items from the time she lived in Orlando. There were multiple drawing pads. Five photo albums stuffed with pictures. A couple spiral planners with *NSYNC on the front. Bobble heads and marionette dolls. Beanie bears. *NSYNC lanyards with hard cards still attached. Sound check wristbands. So much more. Sitting by her right knee was a garbage bag.

She took a sip of wine as she stared at all the things she had kept for all these years. It spanned a couple boxes. She had no idea why she still held on to the stuff. Reaching for one of the drawing pads, she sat it in front of her and opened the cover. A smiling JC stared back at her. Her heart caught. She had to flip through ten pages before she got to a page that didn't have JC. Well... didn't just have JC. The next page was another of JC. Hearts were drawn all around. The following page was a drawing of her and JC. That page had her name written all over it.

Rachel Chasez

Mrs. JC Chasez

Mrs. Joshua Scott Chasez

The next page held a game of MASH she must have been playing with herself. She was marrying JC (he had been the only option). They were living in a shack, with ten kids, driving a jeep, unemployed, making $100. Turning the page again, she saw another game of MASH. This time the husband had been Joey. Rachel knew immediately it had been Melissa playing. Melissa had married Joey, they were having 100 kids, driving a Lamborghini, living in a mansion, working as a pimp. She snorted.

They were stupid kids. She was anyway. Melissa may have thrown in the towel after three kids, rocked the soccer mom mini van, and have a better job, but she had gotten what she wanted. Joey, marriage, children, and a home. It was Rachel who was stuck living in the past. Living on dreams that were never going to come true. Some people got what they wanted - like Melissa. Other people didn't.

Like her.

She grabbed the trash and shook it open before she tossed the drawing pad inside. Rachel didn't bother looking at the other pads. She just shoved them into the bag one right after the other. A daily planner came next. The year was 1999. Opening it up, she saw the calendar days full of tour dates and appearances on TV shows and award shows. There were movie release dates written down that she and Melissa went to see. She's All That. 10 Things I Hate About You. Music of My Heart premiere and theatrical release. There were vacations written down. Hair appointments. Birthdays. A note that said to Call Mom. JC's birthday was there on August 8th. It had a huge red heart drawn around the day.

Rachel stuffed it into the garbage bag too. Up next, she grabbed a photo album. As she flipped through the pages, she couldn't help but smile as at the memories. Their baby faces. Hers. Melissa's. JC's. Lance's. Joey's. Chris's. Justin's. All of them. They looked so young.  There were so many photos. A common theme from a time before digital cameras. Multiple photos were taken incase one didn't turn out. Nothing had been more depressing than getting photos developed to discover the ones you really wanted didn't turn out.

With a sigh she pulled back the clear covering and picked at the corner of a photo of just JC and peeled it from its spot. She stared at it for a couple moments before dropping it into the trash bag.

"What in the hell are you doing!"

Rachel jumped at the noise, nearly upsetting the glass of wine next to her knee. She quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks.

"I saw that." Melissa said as she finished going up the rest of the stairs. She had searched high and low for her best friend downstairs before making the trek upstairs, figuring she was soaking in a bath. If she was kid free that would be the first place to look if she was being sought out. It had been a long time since she had been able to take a bath without interruption. If it wasn't one of the kids knocking on the door, it was Joey. Seeing the attic door ajar had cause her to frown. She had slowly climbed up the steps until she was able to see through the railing. Spying her friend, she watched silently as Rachel flipped through a photo album. It was when she started throwing them away Melissa couldn't keep quiet any longer. "I repeat, what in the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Rachel asked as she turned another page in the album until she found another photo of JC.

"It looks like you're throwing photos away..." Melissa crouched down at Rachel's side and opened the trash bag to look at its contents. "It looks like you've lost your mind and throwing 1999 away."

"Not all of it," Rachel asked as she moved to drop another photo in the trash bag Melissa was now holding open.

"Give me that!" Melissa snatched the photo from her friend's hand. "What the hell are you doing?"

Rachel sighed. "I told you."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Melissa said, cutting her off. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because it's time." Rachel said as she removed another photo. It would be easier to just toss the complete album, but there were photos in the albums she wanted to keep. Photos of her and Lance. Her and Melissa. Melissa. Her. Various group photos or partial group photos. It was just the solo JC photos she was trashing. The photos a lovesick teenager had taken. "It's past time."

"Have you lost your mind?" Melissa took the album from Rachel's hands and sat it out of reach. "Seriously. Have you lost your mind?"

"Mel...don't." Rachel sighed.

"Why are you doing this now?"

"Because it's time."

"Will you stop answering my questions with answers you've already given me!"

"Stop asking questions you've already asked."

Melissa closed her eyes and clenched her jaw in irritation. "Stop giving me vague answers to the questions I'm asking then."

"If I didn't have this laying around, McKenzie wouldn't have snooped in it. She wouldn't have concocted this... fantasy in her head about JC."

"Right... you would have just settled in to dating JC and McKenzie would have concocted the fantasy then. That's so much better." Melissa rolled her eyes. "Face it Rach... Your daughter is exactly like you. Ten minutes in his presence and she was in love with him."

"At least that way wouldn't have been careening toward disaster." Rachel took another sip of her wine.

"How much have you had?" Melissa eyeballed the wineglass.

"My first glass."

"Did you mix it with a valium?" Melissa asked dryly. "You're just a ray of sunshine."

"JC and I broke up Mel. Sorry I'm not shooting rainbows and glitter out of my ass." Rachel snapped.

"That's a...do you think you draw that for me?"

"Fuck off." Rachel reached for a drawing pad in front of her hidden beneath a photo album. On the very first page was JC. She had drawn him laying on his stomach on a bed with his head at the foot. His arms where folded under his head clutching a pillow.

"Holy shit," Melissa said as she stared at the photo. "If JC looked at me that way, I'd probably lose my panties..."

"He never looked at me that way..."

Melissa harrumphed. "He looked at you like that all the time. You were just too busy trying to make sure no one noticed you were looking at him the same way." She put a hand on the pad turning it in her direction. "If I took a picture of Joey, naked from the waist up, could you draw me one of him laying in bed. On his side, sheet covering his nether regions, elbow bent, head on his head giving me the come hither panty dropper look?"

"I don't even want to know what Joey's ‘come hither panty dropper look' looks like."

"Oh," Melissa shivered. "Gets me all hot and bothered just thinking about it."

"Here," Rachel picked up her glass of wine and handed it to her best friend. "Drink this and cool off."

"I can't help it." Melissa giggled. "You know that scene in ‘The Lion King' with the hyenas when they say Mufasa? That's what it's like when Joey looks at me like that. ‘Ooo, do it again.'" She shivered.

Rachel closed her eyes and scrunched her face up. "Shut up Mel. No. No. I'm not hearing this. I don't want to hear it." There was a smile playing at her lips. "I'm surprised you even come out of the bedroom."

"If we didn't have kids, we wouldn't," Melissa grinned.

"That's how you got there in the first place."

"What can you do? It's a vicious cycle."

"I wouldn't know."

"And that is what makes my heart hurt," Melissa sighed. She moved the trash bag and cleared a spot on the floor next to Rachel.  "It hurts because you never had the chance to experience that all consuming passion where you don't want to leave the bedroom. Where you can't get enough of each other and you're sneaking away because you can't wait. Of having that person you feel in your soul. You're so wrapped up in each other, falling more and more in love which you think is impossible because you can't possibly love them more. But you do. You fall in love with him every day." She wrapped her arm around Rachel's shoulders when she heard Rachel sniffling. "I wish I could wiggle my nose and send us back in time so I can point out everything you missed." She tapped the drawing pad. "So you can see that he did look at you like this. You can throw away all this stuff if you want, but it's not going to work. The memories are in your head; in your heart."

"We just never had a chance," Rachel whispered, wiping her cheek with the back of her head.

"Yes you do." Melissa said firmly. "You've had plenty of chances and you still have chances. You just never took any of them. The moment you moved to Orlando after you graduated high school, you should have snatched him up. After what happened, you could have turned to him. He would have been there."

"It wasn't his responsibility."

"Sometimes it's so maddening dealing with you." Melissa muttered. "He loves you. He would do anything for you. Including breaking up with you if it meant protecting you. If he thought it would help you, help Kenzi."

"That's not the kind of help I needed."

"Well unfortunately, he's still a man. And men need our help. It's amazing they can even get dressed in the mornings on their own. The things Joey does sometimes," she rolled her eyes affectionately. "I can only shake my head at, but I love him and he's mine. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Eighteen days."

"What?" Melissa asked, leaning her head closer.

"Eighteen days," Rachel repeated louder.

"What's that mean? What's eighteen days?"

"How long we were together. My heart feels like it's been eighteen years."

"Because you and JC share that once in a lifetime love. The kind that everyone searches for. Look at you two... you said it yourself. It's like nothing changed. Fifteen years later and he made you melt on the sidewalk outside the café with just a look. That look," Melissa said pointing to the drawing pad. "He has been giving that look to you for years. He's yours. You're his. You two are your own worst enemies. The only ones keeping you two apart are the two of you."