"Premiering of artist Alicia Valentine's new work is set for tomorrow in New York City." JC Chasez held the article clipping tightly in his hand as he stood in front of the art gallery. Ally, his Ally, he thought as he licked his dry lips. It had been years since he had last seen her, five to be exact. Inhaling deeply, he straightened his tie and took a few tentative steps toward the doors.
She rarely ever went to galleries to promote her work, JC knew. Nevertheless, today, today might be different he hoped. After all, he wasn't supposed to be in New York City. It was pure chance that there was a delay in his tour schedule and that someone had left a newspaper opened to the page about Ally on a seat next to him the previous day. Yes, this was fate, he decided.
The gallery was full of many people, mostly journalists and photographers. JC kept his head low and weaved his way slowly through the crowd. Ally, he noticed, had been very busy over the last five years, since the last time she released anything new. An entire section was dedicated to her new work, which ranged from black and white sketches to watercolors to abstract. Everything was beautiful, captivating, but one piece in particular had caught his eye. It was a sketching of a man with JC's chiseled features. His face was frowned in concentration, his full lips pouting. His eyes, if they had been colored in, JC knew, would have been blue. His hair was short and shaded in heavily, indicating that the man had dark hair. His eyes were looking down to his hands, which were poised on piano keys, it's title: "Music Man".
The drawing drew JC back into a memory; at least, he thought it was a memory. It had been so long and he had had so many dreams about her that everything eventually blended. And there, in his mind's eye, he was, five years ago, sitting at a piano. He was scratching the back of his neck before playing, and Ally sat watching, listening. She called him her music man.
"I'm not much of a musician anymore," he said.
"Yes, you are," she stood up and walked over to him, sitting next to him. "You'll always be right here." She lightly ran a finger across his chest above his heart.
JC shook the thoughts away and moved to the next piece. It was his face again, framed with roses. Another sketch shaded in with charcoal, except for the rose petals. They were painted red, his lips were light pink, and his eyes were a shocking blue. Next to that, a painting of certain features of his mixed with Ally's to create one whole person.
JC sighed deeply and a man appeared next to him, staring. "May I help you?" JC asked somewhat impatiently. He always hated being the object of gawking.
"Yes, I think you can," the man responded calmly. He was slightly shorter than JC, with thick dark hair that was graying, a mustache and a goatee. "It would wise if you would stay away from Alicia while you are here."
"Do I know you?"
"No, but I know you." He gestured to the artwork in front of them. "Don't let her see you. She has a new life now."
JC watched the man walk away and let his words run through his head. "Don't let her see you." Did that mean she was coming? He thought. And as soon has the thought had entered, photographers began snapping pictures wildly. Ally had arrived.
He had waited for this day for so long, he had imagined many times that way it would work if things had gone his way. They would spot each other through the crowd, and run into each other's arms and pick up where they had left off.
No, it would not be like this today.
He watched her intently. She didn't smile, she hated all the attention, he knew. Her long blond hair was as thick and shiny as ever and her brown eyes still spoke volumes to him.
"She has a new life now."
He wanted to raise his hand so badly and get her to notice his presence. Instead, he walked behind the crowd, out of her sight, and onto the sidewalk.
The next day, JC was still trapped in the city. He walked aimlessly down the sidewalk with a Yankees hat on and his head hanging low. He decided to ditch security and was praying to God that no one would recognize him. Funny how a few years ago he missed the attention when it was gone, when he was no longer a "somebody", he thought. And now, after making his so-called "comeback" he did not want to be bothered.
He brought his a head up for a brief second when he noticed her. She was standing on the corner waiting until it was safe to cross the street. Her hair was pulled back and she wore black pants and a fitted blue blouse.
"Ally!" he called before he had the chance to think twice. In about a second he had raced up right next to her.
She stared for what seemed like an eternity, her face betraying her and revealing multiple emotions to him all at once that he could barely recognize them all. "It can't be really you."
"It is me." He pulled her into his arms and reveled in her familiar intoxicating scent and she hesitantly responded to the hug. "I didn't think I would see again after yesterday," he said as he pulled back.
"Yesterday?"
He nodded. "You're work is as beautiful as ever."
"You were at the gallery?"
"Yes."
She looked away for a moment and something shiny caught JC's eye. He looked down and grasped her hand.
"You're engaged?"
"Yes. Richard Covington is his name. He's a businessman."
Richard had obviously picked out the ring, JC knew, for it was yellow gold. Ally always preferred white gold, and the diamond was far to ostentatious for Ally's taste.
The feeling of taking a blow to the stomach overwhelmed JC, but he would not let it ruin this moment. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"
"I don't know if that's such a good idea, JC."
"Why not?"
Ally shifted her weight. "I think you know why. Besides, why do you want to talk now after five years?" she added icily.
He looked away for second, but he couldn't not look at her for long, it was impossible, it always had been.
"What could you possibly have to say now?" she continued. "How can you vindicate yourself for what you did?"
"I had to leave, Ally, you know that. You helped me leave-"
"And silly me thought you would come back for me, or at least call me, any sort of contact long before now." Her voice was beginning to rise so she stopped talking, trying desperately to control the tears JC could see forming.
"I thought we needed some time apart, and that maybe if I didn't try to force my way back into your life, it would happen on its own, and it has. I wasn't supposed to be in the city this week and you; you rarely go to galleries to premiere your work. It was fate."
Ally stared him in the eye and shook her head. "There's no such thing." She turned and walked away before he could respond.
JC didn't follow her. He would see her again, he knew.
He did not know how long she would be staying in the city, but the next day he ventured to her favorite spot in Central Park anyway, and there she was, sitting on a bench under a tree with her sketchpad. JC did not approach her; he simply sat at another bench, his hat hiding his face, watching her.
The next day, she was there again and JC moved closer and paced in front of her, letting her see him. On the third day, he sat on the bench directly behind her with his back to her and from the corner of his eye watched amusedly as she looked for him. Finally, she stood and turned the same moment he turned his head. He reached for her pad and she rolled her eyes but made no move to protest. The first sketch was dated two weeks before and was of a crowd of teenagers and one girl standing a part from the rest. Her head was down pointed to a book in her hands. He continued flipping until he reached the one dated three days before.
It was of him; she had noticed him there that day. There he was, so lifelike on the pad, sitting on the bench looking so sad. The next one was of JC again in mid stride, his head down. "Do you forgive me yet?" he asked quietly. Ally shrugged her shoulders. "Come with me?" Ally did not respond but followed JC out of the park.
The entire journey to JC's hotel had been quiet, as well as the first few minutes they stood staring at each other in his room. "I bought your CD the first day it came out," Ally said. Her voice was soft and stirred many things inside of JC.
"What did you think?"
"I loved it."
"Every word was written with you in mind." Ally blushed.
JC took a step closer and stopped when Ally spoke again. "Can you explain to me what exactly happened?"
JC cleared his throat. "You know I had to leave. You even told me to, remember? I needed to find myself, and I needed to find in myself everything you told me was already there. And I did it, Ally, I really did. I couldn't have done it if I hadn't met you."
"But why didn't you try to call me, write me, anything?"
"For the first year, I barely spoke to anyone. I spent it locked up in my studio in my house in LA. After that, I went to a record labels and for the second year I had to work with producers and publicists and managers. The third year, my CD was released and I started promos and touring. So, for the first three years, I was too busy to try to contact you, and when things started to slow down I convinced myself that if it was meant to happen it would, and I couldn't force it. I wasn't the only one who needed to find myself, Ally."
Ally nodded her head and JC walked toward her until he was flush up against her. She swallowed hard and her eyes looked everywhere but to him. "Well, it's too late now," she finally said.
"He'll never love you like I do."
She stood silently and he touched her hair, basking in its softness. "I need you, Ally. Don’t you see? I couldn't have made it through the last few years without you. I find something to be happy about every day because of you." JC moved even closer and the corners of his mouth turned up when he saw that Ally did not attempt to move away. "Remember how broken I was when I first met you? But you, you saw in me everything I once was and everything I could be, everything that I can see now."
Ally's lips parted slightly and her breathing was becoming heavy, as was his. He lightly traced her lips with his finger. "I know you can't give me forever anymore, I've lost that to someone else. Can you at least give me tonight?" He brushed her hair off her shoulder and ran his fingers down the side of her neck. She tilted to her head to the side and he took the opportunity to place kisses on her shoulder and moved his way up her neck, and he slipped away living in the past just for the night.
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