Date: Sun, 20 Jun 1999 23:25:06 PDT
From: Benj Thall <benj_thall@hotmail.com>
Subject: For JC's Love

Disclaimer: This is a gay love story (gosh, that sounds so corny!) and if
you're not interested, buzz off! All of the events described below are
fictional and have never occurred in real life. I would also like to state
that there is no implication that JC of N'Sync is gay in anyway -- no
matter how much a lot of people out there wish. Furthermore, I believe that
you would like to know that there is NO SEX in this story. Rather, I wish
to study how love can be so demanding and different if you love a
celebrity. By the way, almost all the opinions in this story originate from
me, and while I stand by them, I do not even encourage you to accept them.
Everyone has their own opinions about sex and all that. Whatever you
believe, do practice safe sex. Comments are welcome at
Benj_thall@hotmail.com. By the way, thanks Mano for your support. This is
dedicated to you and the real Allie out there.

			       For JC's Love

	It was a beautiful morning that day, the wind blowing steadily, but
I had to admit that it was bloody cold. Good weather, then, partly, for
setting up a stall for the Tekapo Fair. The fair's this thing that we hold
annually near Lake Tekapo in New Zealand. If you've never seen the lake,
then you've missed one of the best sights in the world. It's like a blue
sapphire, gleaming in the sunlight. Nearby are the hills where we normally
hold the Fair.
	At the Fair, you can buy whatever the stall keepers are
selling. Usually, it's an agricultural product, like smoked ham, honey, or
butter, but, sometimes, there's things like hand-made shawls, or souvenirs
like bead necklaces, and, once, a feather token by the Maori. Me, I sell my
paintings. I'm quite OK at painting but most of it is still life, normally,
landscapes. You never run out of those here in New Zealand. There's the
beach, the cliffs overlooking Milford Sound in Queenstown, the geysers in
Rotorua, and more. That's one reason why I moved here.
	I was born in Malaysia, where the weather is both hot and
humid. Pleasant enough but I've always preferred cold. It's still my home
but . . . . it's different in a way. Let me describe myself. I'm tall for
an Asian, around 6', about 175 lbs., with dark brown hair, that's kind of
long but not past my shoulders, and brown eyes as well. My English is
fairly excellent, though most Westerners always believe that I can barely
grasp the intricacies of that language.
	While toting my paintings, I ran across some people I knew from
earlier Fairs. I nodded at some, and smiled at others, but I noticed that
many faces from the past weren't here. I wondered if it was b'cos of a lack
of interest in the Fair or if they had just moved on. Very few attendees of
the Fair are young. Only a handful, including me, are below 30 years of
age. Me, I'm 22 years old, but that's enough to condemn me as an old-timer
here where kids -- as young as 16 -- show up to sell stuff. As I set up my
stall, I noticed that old Eli's stall had been replaced. A bunch of kids
ran it, the tables piled with CDs and cassettes. One of them was setting up
a radio, which began to churn out an infernal racket.
	I glared at the punks. That's what they were to me. I do listen to
modern music but the kids these days had an annoying tendency to listen to
garbled screeching, and then, term it as music. I prefer more mellow tunes
like Lisa Loeb, Jann Arden, Celine Dion, Shania Twain, and even Alanis
Morissette (though she's loud, at least her music SOUNDS like music).
	"They're a pain, aren't they?"
	I turned around, and grinned. "Quite. But they weren't as bad as
you used to be, Shonsea!"
	Shonsea grimaced, and stuck her tongue out. "Ha ha, very funny,"
she said, in the tone of a long suffering friend.
	"Admit it! You were like them . . . once."
	"Yeah, a long time ago!" she retorted.
	I simply smiled at her. She was a striking sight, standing there,
clad in the hide clothing that she loved to wear so much. As usual, Shonsea
had threaded feather into her long auburn hair, and right then, she looked
like nothing more than an Indian squaw, going into battle. Of course, the
native American squaws never did do battle but it was the closest analogy I
could think of.
	I saw her glance around. "Eli and Jeb are gone, you know," she
commented.
	"They are?" I looked around for Jeb's stall, the only one that sold
the hand-carved toys that Jeb made himself. But, the Fair ground was clear
of the rickety old wagon from which he usually operated.
	"Do you know where they are?" I asked, glancing at her.
	"Zerah mentioned that Eli finally decided to go to his children's
house in Auckland somewhere. As for Jeb . . . I think he's sick or
something."
	"Sick? How do you know?"
	"I talked with him yesterday. His lungs are acting up, filling with
liquid again. He's going to the hospital in Wellington with his daughter."
	"Hope he's all right . . ."
	Shonsea looked at me, a peculiar light in her eyes. Then she
shrugged, and continued to study the kids across me. Let me tell you a bit
about Shonsea. She was born in a time too late, I guess, b'cos she's a born
anarch, always never even trying to conform to society. Her parents are
incredibly wealthy; they own this law firm in the States. They wanted their
youngest daughter to follow in the footsteps of their family -- the whole
family is filled with lawyers. Scary, ain't it? -- but the first thing she
did, when she was 18, was to fly off to New Zealand, and live in the
country, selling the feather tokens that she makes, and "playing around" --
as her father calls it -- with this restaurant.
	What else can I say about her? She's her, I guess. Stubborn but
compassionate, easily excited but serene in times of trouble. She's one of
a kind, and very hard to find in this world. We met when I first came to NZ
about three years ago. I saw her, and she saw me, and then it was instant
friendship. We were kindred spirits, perhaps, from past life.
	As I looked into the past at our friendship, Shonsea nudged me with
her elbow, and moved to whisper in my ear. "Psst . . . Allie, see that guy
over there? The one with the blond streaked hair? What do you think?"
	I looked in the direction she was facing, and I caught a glimpse of
the guy she had described. He looked around 18, tall, with broad shoulders,
in a T-shirt and jeans. His hair was longish, brown but streaked with
traces of gold. As I watched him, he saw the two of us staring at him, and
began walking over.
	"Uh oh . . . " Shon went.
	"Damn right, uh oh," I muttered to her.
	He was now close enough to scream at us but he walked close enough
to sock me in the mouth, and for one moment there, I began to worry. He
raised his hand, and offered it to me in a handshake.
	"Hi, my name's Jeff. I'm new here. Are you guys new as well?" His
voice was rich and low. Immediately, my mind began flashing warning
signals. This guy was way too good-looking for my peace of mind. I have a
tendency to get crushes on cute guys, and most of the objects of those
crushes are just MAJOR jerks. Well, enough heartache instilled in me these
signals. I knew if I let myself be carried away, this guy was HUGE trouble.
	"Uh, Allie . . . Allie Wu." That's my reply, all I could say as he
looked at me. I noticed that his eyes were a deep green, like emeralds.
	"Shonsea, Shonsea Wilding, but you can call me Shon for short. Uh,
we've been here for about two years now, I think. Allie sells paintings,
and I sell feather tokens. Wanna see one? What do you sell? Oh wait, what
am I saying?" she said, and slapped her forehead. "You sell CDs and
cassettes, of course."
	Jeff looked a little overwhelmed but I could see that he liked
her. As for Shon . . . I looked at her from the corner of my eye. This guy
must have a tremendous effect on her. Normally, Shon is almost unflappable
but when she sees a guy she's really attracted to, her conversation just
speeds up by about a zillion times. I gave her a "Stop being so weird"
look, and, thank God, she caught it.
	She laughed. "Sorry for rushing you but I don't talk to a lot of
people 'cept Allie here and, as you can see, he's not much of a talker." I
glared at her. Jeff laughed.
	"Not much people to talk to? Why? A lady as pretty as you should
have to beat off all the guys with a stick!" Shon blushed, and I rolled my
eyes. Not even five minutes and he's already hitting on her. Well, as they
say, two's company and three's a crowd . . .
	I stuck my hand out to Jeff. "Nice to meet you, Jeff. Sorry but I
gotta run, OK? See ya." Once we shook hands, I hightailed it out of there,
and started setting up stall. Once in a while I glanced at Shon and
Jeff. Man, they were really hitting it off. I have to admit, I was a little
jealous. Shon really has a lot of admirers while I . . .  well, the closest
thing that I've ever had to a boyfriend was 6 years ago when I was still in
Malaysia. I gotta confess. The furthest I've ever gone is necking, and I
think I'm going to stay there awhile.
	As I put my paintings on display, all I could think of was my
celibacy. By choice, though. I mean, I hate to brag, but I do look good, if
a bit confused at times. I guess I could have gone further but I'm a devout
Christian. Not something most gay people are, I have to say. If you read
the Bible real carefully, you can see that homosexual sex is a no-no but
they didn't say anything about love. So, love's OK but sex isn't. It may be
flawed but it was my perception on things, so I stick by it. That means
I'll probably die a virgin. Oh well.

	The day was slow. A few people looked around, and some actually
bought something. I don't overcharge my paintings. The good ones usually go
for about US$20 or so while the lousy ones can go for US$2 or so. It all
depends. Shonsea had popped in once in a while and she couldn't stop
giggling about Jeff. A wind was blowing by the time it was noon. The wind
was cold, very cold, for all that it was the close of summer, and everybody
was bundled up as much as possible. As I looked around, I noticed this kid
staring at one of my paintings. I was content to let him stare but after a
few minutes, during which he stared and stared, I got a little curious and
tried to see which painting he was scrutinising so closely. As I craned my
head, I finally saw what he was staring at. It was one that I had painted
long ago, of the frozen lake a few winters back. I stared and stared. What
the hell was he staring at? I glanced around. The kid was gone. I wonder,
what was he looking at?
	"Allie?"
	I yelped and spun around. It was Gail. "Sorry for scaring you," she
murmured, amusement in her voice.
	"It's not funny, Gail. What if I had a weak heart? You could have
scared me to death!"
	She crossed her arms, and gazed at me. "You don't. End of story."
	I scowled in mock anger. "Fine," I said, and rolled my eyes. "What
is it, anyway?"
	Gail pulled her fingers through her pepper-and-salt hair, and
studied her fingers. "It's Shonsea. She's asking everybody to sing the
winds again."
	I groaned. Another of Shonsea's weird ideas. She got it from some
old book that the Druids used to sing to the winds to ask for good weather,
and managed to bully enough of the Fair-goers into doing it. So, whenever
she wanted, she called most of us to sing to the winds. It wasn't that
sucky an idea -- it actually attracted more of the customers but Shonsea
had this inclination of picking some old songs that only a few knew. Me,
mostly, since she usually ran the ideas through me first.
	"Oh, God, not again! Gail, tell her I'm sick! Tell her I caught the
flu! Tell her I got the plague! Anything!!" I pleaded. Gail grinned and
shook her head. "Too late. She's coming this way."
	"ALLIE WU!"
	The shout was so loud that everybody stared. I looked around for a
place to hide. Yikes! Nothing! She could run faster than me, and she's
actually stronger, too. This may seem a little strange but the truth is
that I'm incredibly shy, and I HATE singing in front of everybody. I looked
around again. Aaagghhh! Trapped! I sighed and turned around.
	"Shonsea."
	She stared at me. "Ready?" she asked sweetly.
	"I'll kill you. You do know that, don't you?"
	"Oh, come on! It's just singing!"
	"Fine! Then you do it!"
	"You know you're a better singer. You're the best among us all."
	"She's right, you know," Gail interjected.
	"Traitor!" I muttered under my breath.
	"Oh, just come, will ya, Allie? Please?
	"All right, all right! As if I had a choice!"
	Shonsea smiled, and literally dragged me to the Square. Already,
there were a few people waiting. The Square's this place in the middle of
the Fairground where we do most proclamations. It's nothing more than a
square piece of ground, covered with whatever rugs that somebody brought,
and marked with four poles, twined with ribbons. It's off limits except
when we want to say something to everybody, or in this case, for singing to
the winds.
	I grumbled, and sat in the exact middle of the Square where
somebody -- probably Shon -- had placed a large, red plush cushion. Gail
folded herself next to me, and began polishing her flute. Nearby, Dan was
cleaning his fiddle while Lian tuned her guitar. I looked around. There
were people gathering around the Square already but it was hard to identify
some of them since the sun was behind them. I saw Jeff, who winked at me,
and grinned. I smiled back, but I think I let something of my
disgruntlement show 'cos he actually stepped back a bit at my smile. I
calmed down, and smiled again, without whatever was in that first one. He
smiled uneasily back and I noticed, he kept at his current position.
	"Allie?"
	"Yeah?" I said, slightly startled. It was Shonsea.
	"Are you OK?" she asked, concern in her voice. "If you aren't, we
can always call this off . . ."
	"Never mind. I'm fine. What's the song?"
	"Chuaigh me na Rosann."
	I groaned. I'd heard that song once, and it was damned
complicated. "Are you sure?"
	"Yeah, the others have been training."
	"And, why was I missing from these training sessions?" I asked,
annoyed.
	"C'mon, you don't need it. The first time I ran you through it, you
were flawless!"
	I was flattered. "Really?"
	Shon grinned. She knew what I was thinking. "Later, OK, you
peacock. The customers are waiting."
	I shrugged.
	She glanced at the others, nodded once, and then started blowing
her flute. She was incredible, capturing the incredible poignancy of the
song. I heard Gail, then Dan, then Lian joining in, and pretty soon,
everyone was playing the song. It was still soft b'cos they didn't want to
overwhelm my voice.
	My heart was drumming in my chest. I felt as if everyone was
staring at me, and to calm myself, I closed my eyes. I listened closely to
the music, and when I heard my cue, I began singing. My voice is quite good
but the thing is that I love to sing, to hear my voice perform something so
delightful. If you get a star with a wonderful voice, even she or he would
sound terrible if they hated to sing, or only went along with it. Others
love to sing, like Shania Twain, Jann Arden, Celine Dion, and a few more,
which is why most of their songs are so wonderful. Maybe that's why my
voice sounded so good then.
	"Chuaigh me na Rosann" is this song, Gaelic, I think, that is so
incredibly wonderful that even though you don't understand the words, you
can feel its poignancy, its sorrow, its gentle touch on your soul. It's
beyond belief, and I gloried in the sound of my voice, singing that folk
song. Maybe, we got the mood entirely wrong or something. but I liked the
sad tone we kept at.
	I opened my eyes half way through my performance, and I was happy
to see that many of the others had been affected as well. Especially the
customers. The women were teary-eyed, and the men, sorrowful. It may sound
unbelievable but that song touches a chord in every person, and I had never
seen one person who wasn't affected by it. Suddenly, my eyes were
caught. It was the same boy who had been staring at my painting. He looked
no older than eight (I couldn't tell since I'm lousy with ages) with curly
blonde hair, and the widest blue eyes I had ever seen. He looked
adorable. I realised he was holding to somebody's hand, a man, who stood
before me, a few feet away. He was silhouetted by the sun so I couldn't
really see anything from where I was, but I could see the glint in his
eyes. All of a sudden, I shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. There was
something about that man, something that was entirely dangerous. I bit my
lip, and closed my eyes, and lost myself in the song.
	
	"That was wonderful, Al!" Shonsea's eyes were bright, with tears
and excitement. "How in the world did you pull it off?" She grabbed hold of
me, and said to my face, "Don't you see, you boob, you raked them in! Why
if you did this everyday . . ."
	I pulled away. "You're crazy," I said laughingly, "if you think I'm
going to sing myself to death for you."
	She shrugged. "Think about it, Al. It might be lucrative."
	"Thanks but no thanks. By the way, stop calling me Al. The name's
Allie; you know how I HATE Al."
	"Whatever. See ya."
	I got off the cushion, brushing the lint off my slacks, and began
walking towards the stall. "Wait, ALLLIIEEEE!!!"
	I paused, and waited for a huffing Shonsea as she ran towards
me. "What?"
	"Are you coming for tonight?" she asked.
	"What tonight? What's going on?"
	"You, idiot! It's Game Night here with the Convocation! You mean,
you haven't prepared or anything?"
	I groaned, "NO." Game Night was this thing we had around here, a
live action roleplaying thing we did. And with the Convocation, that would
mean more players, Game Masters, and freebies for everyone, especially for
the hosts. Damn, it only happened once every 3 years, and this time, the
Convocation was HERE! If I missed those four nights . . .
	Shonsea saw my agony, and piped up. "Look, if you're playing
Alleyne, all you need is the long black feather robes, black feathers, a
medallion, and a wig. You have the robe, right?"
	I nodded slowly, unsure.
	"Good. I can get you some feathers, and a wig. As for the medallion
. . ." she hesitated, and then continued, "I think I can get one for you."
	I threw my arms around her. "Oh, Shon, you ARE a lifesaver! Thank
you thank you thank you!!!"
	She grinned. "Of course. If I wasn't, you wouldn't have survived
this long."

	After closing up everything, I couldn't wait for night to fall. I
took a quick bath, grabbed something to eat, and watched TV incessantly
until nightfall. When it was 6 p.m., I took off everything and but on this
robe I had. I made it years ago, with my best friend's help, stitching
black feathers into the silky surface of the black velvet robe. It was
supposed to be the costume of my character, Alleyne. She was supposed to be
this evil sorceress whom I played with a wicked tongue, and a sharp sense
of humour.
	I was fidgeting when Shonsea arrived at my house. Perhaps, I should
describe my house first though. It's somewhere near the Fairground, this
large house built on the grass, surrounded by a low fence. There's this
paved path that leads from the gate of the fence to my doorstep. The area
around that path is simply garden, filled with various seasonal plants that
could withstand the cold. Somewhere in the back is my greenhouse where I
keep my delicate flowers. I have to confess. Shonsea was responsible for
the garden and the greenhouse. See, I have a passion about flowers but I'm
a totally inept gardener. So, Shonsea helped me by planting the flowers,
and actually cultivating some flowers to withstand the cold. So, it was a
profuse bloom of flowers in the front.
	Anyway, when Shonsea rang the bell, I was damn excited. Until I saw
her with THE kid. The one who had been standing in front of my stall. His
eyes were red as if he had been crying.
	"Shonsea," I glanced at the boy, "what's wrong? Who's the kid?"
	She had a grim look on her face, something very
un-Shonsea-like. There was a veritable scowl on her face. "You tell me! I
found the kid wandering around outside your stall. I asked him 'bout his
parent or his guardians, and he says he's lost. I tried to make him talk
more but I couldn't get him to say more." Now, at least, I understood
Shonsea's expression. She's a stickler for responsibility, and she was just
pissed that somebody could have dumped the kid like that. I was getting
annoyed, too, at whomever was responsible, but I was still curious.
	"OK, but why is he here?"
	She gave me a regretful look. I knew that look.
	"No, no, no, Shin! I'm not ...'
	"C'mon, the kid asked specifically for you! He wouldn't have gone
with me 'cept that I said we were coming to you!" She grimaced. "So, here!"
	I sighed. If the boy was that determined. "Fine."
	"Now, I don't want to . . . . what did you say?"
	"I said, fine."
	She eyed me oddly, "And you're not arguing?"
	"Look, if the boy really wants me to be with him, then fine!"
	"But what about tonight?"
	"Well, there are three more nights . . .  so I guess I'll stay here
with the boy. It's not safe taking him there anyway." Shon nodded, pursing
her lips. "Just make sure, you get freebies for me, too. And, ask around
for the boy's guardians. I saw this guy with him earlier. If anybody wants
to get the boy, direct him here, will ya?"
	She nodded again. She held my shoulder, and squeezed it. "You're
big, darling, real big."
	"Hey, I might be gaining a bit of weight but I'm not THAT fat, you
know," I joked. She gave me a hug, and left, waving goodbye to me.
	I looked down at the boy. He looked fairly fagged, and I grabbed
him, carrying him gently to the sofa where I set him down.
	Now, I'm not really that good with kids. I'm terribly impatient and
very hot-tempered so I usually suck with children. Sure, I may think some
are real adorable, but after a while, my temper's usually frayed, and I'll
change my impression of a little angel into that of a little demon. But,
with the kid, I didn't feel that same apprehension that he was really a
toddler terrorist. I knelt by his side.
	"What's your name kid? Are you hungry? Thirsty?" I asked him
gently.
	He was silent for a while, until I thought he wouldn't reply, when
he hesitantly replied, "Jonathan. A bit of both."
	I smiled at him, and ruffled those blond locks. "Sit down, OK. I'll
get you something. Watch TV if you want. Cartoons are on Channel 5." I got
up, and moved over to the kitchen. I rifled through the cabinets until I
found some cookies and a bit of chocolate milk. Not that it's hard. My
whole house if filled mostly with junk food anyway. I poured some of the
milk into a glass, and dropped a few of the cookies into a plate. Taking
both, I stepped out to the living room, and set both in front of the
Jonathan.
	He glanced up from the Simpsons, and shyly said, "Thanks." I smiled
and ruffled his hair again. He grabbed a cookie, started munching, and
turned his attention towards Bart trying to glue Homer's hand to his beer
bottle. Ah, TV's a wonderful thing. The most effective child riveter.
	Feeling a little hungry, I went into the kitchen, and made myself a
sandwich. Taking small bites of it, I plopped down by Jonathan, and watched
the cartoon. When it was over, Jonathan looked at me curiously. "How come
you're wearing a dress?"
	I laughed. "It's not a dress, Jonny. It's a robe. See, I was going
to act and that's why I'm wearing this."
	He nodded in understanding, and was silent except for his
munching. "How come you know my name?
	"What? Ahh, b'cos you told me."
	"No, not Jonathan. Jonny!"
	"Oh. It just came to me. I hope you don't mind me calling you
Jonny," I asked him seriously. That's the key to kids, I guess: always
treat them seriously.
	He pondered for a moment. "Well, mostly my family calls me that,
and my uncles, but, OK, you can."
	I smiled at his seriousness. "Thank you. Jonny."
	He smiled back at me, timidly.
	"What's your name?"
	"Allie."
	"That's a funny name."
	"Thanks," I said dryly, and ruffled his hair again.
	Perhaps I should . . . Carefully, I asked, "Jonny, where is the man
that was with you earlier? You know, the one who's hand you were holding
when I was singing?"
	His face grew miserable "That was Uncle Josh. I don't know. I just
looked around and he was gone." Tears began welling in his eyes.
	I pressed him to my side. "Don't cry, Jonny. Your Uncle Josh is
probably as worried about you as you are about him. Don't worry, we'll find
him."
	He looked up at me. "I miss my mom." He pressed his face into my
chest, and I stroked his hair.
	"Don't cry, Jonny. Let me ask you, did you like my singing?"
	He nodded, and wiped his eyes.
	"Want me to sing something?"
	He nodded again.
	I started singing this song that I liked and which, I hoped, would
cheer him up.
	" C is the way we begin
	And H is the next letter in
	And I is the middle of the word
	And K is part of the name of the bird
	And E, we're getting near the end
	C-H-I-C-K-E-N
	That's the way we spell chic-ken!"
	Jonny giggled at the absurd lyrics. I smiled and launched into the
next verse.
	"Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken
	Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken
	Lay an egg for me, chicken
	To eat with my sausages and ba-ken (Bacon)
	Chick, chick, chick, chick, chicken
	Oh, won't you lay an egg for me?"
	Jonny burst out laughing. I grinned, and sang more songs. All were
designed to tickle his fancy, and make him laugh. But after a while, I saw
him nodding off.
	"So, I'm that boring, eh?" I asked him.
	"Not . . . you . . . I'm just . . . so . . . sleepy," and within
minutes, he was asleep.
	I cradled him against my body, and snuggled up to make my body as
comfortable as possible. The house was cool enough, even with the radiator,
to fall asleep. I stroked his hair, and sang a lullaby to him. Eventually,
I stopped. His breathing was deep, and he made childish noises as he
cuddled up against me. I turned off the TV, and turned on the stereo, both
through remotes so as not to stir, and disturb the boy. I chose a selection
of light, easy songs, and straight away, Enya's 'Marble Halls' filled the
air. As I listened to her soft, sweet voice, tremulous and tender, I was
struck by how light Jonny was. Oh, dear, to have a son like him . . . I sat
up at that thought, or nearly sat up. I used to have maternal/paternal
feelings before but this was different. I wanted a child so much . . . .
	It was so comfortable, lying there, listening to the song, sighing
as the music changed into Shania Twain's 'From This Moment On'.
	" From this moment
	Life has begun
	From this moment
	You are the one
	Right beside you
	Is where I belong
	From this moment on ...."
	That got me thinking. Is there actually somebody out there for me?
I doubt it, though. Most guys wouldn't go into a relationship without the
sex part, and I was committed to doing what I believed. But, then, I have
the my friends' love, my family, and God, so that should be more than
enough. Yet . . .  I longed for someone to love me, to love me as much as I
would love them . . . . Jonny stirred for a while, and then went back to
sleep again. I smiled to myself, and began stroking that soft, silky
hair. It was so fine . . . .
	I must have nodded off, then, b'cos the next thing I knew I was
awake, the house silent but for the gentle voice of Jann Arden.
	" You give your hand to me
	And, then, you say hello
	And I can hardly speak
	My heart is beating so
	Oh, you will never know
	The one who loves you so
	'cos you don't know me . . ."
	Jonny was still asleep, his body warm against mine. He murmured in
his sleep, and was silent again. My hand, the one trapped under Jonny, was
numb. Carefully, trying not to wake him up, I eased my hand, and, then,
myself off the couch. The second my hand was free of Jonny's weight, it
began tingling as blood started to flow again. I winced slightly at the
pins-and-needles effect. I moved over to the kitchen, shaking my left arm
from time to time.
	I boiled some water, and made some tea. Jasmine tea. It's good for
you, in a way, 'cos it's supposed to strengthen your cardiovascular system,
or something. I like it 'cos of the taste. Pouring some into a teacup, I
made my way over to the sofa where Jonny was still asleep. He looked like
an angel as he lay there, those blond curls resting against his face, his
lashes -- so long and so fine -- touching his cheek. His parents must be
really good-looking to produce such a beautiful child. I watched him,
sipping my tea.
	There's something about kids that positively kills me. Like how
they can focus on cartoons, or something, yet you can hardly ever get them
to concentrate on their homework. I mean, they're so innocent and
everything, thinking childish thoughts, the very epitome of childhood --
which is what they really are. While I mulled over this, Jonny was waking
up. He blinked owlishly as he looked around, then yawned, and put a hand
over his mouth to cover it.
	"Finally woke up, huh, sleepyhead?" I told him, amusedly.
	"Yeah. Um . . . Allie?"
	"Yeah?" I looked at him, my lips pursed.
	"I'm hungry . . . can I . . .?"
	"Hungry? Again? You just ate?!" I said, incredulously.
	"Please?" he said, and looked at me with those large blue eyes.
	Alright, I have to say, I'm a sucker for cuteness. I couldn't
resist his charm as he exerted it over me. "Fine, fine. What do you want?"
	"Ummm . . . how 'bout some more cookies?" he asked hopefully.
	I snorted. "No way, Jose. Too much cookies are bad for you. How
'bout a ham sandwich?"
	"OK."
	I shook my head, and went into the kitchen. Today, it just seems as
if I was going into the kitchen all the time. Sheesh! I got a few slices of
bread, stacked it together with some ham, pickles, and mayo, stuck it on a
plate, and handed it to the kid. He fell upon it as if he was starving. I
shook my head again. I had almost forgotten how much kids eat. The only
time they got worse was at the ages of 12 to 16. I was fascinated, looking
at how much he just stuffed in his mouth. I was awed. When he finally
finished, there was a streak of mayo by the side of his mouth. I handed him
some tissue, and motioned at his mouth. He looked at me uncertainly, before
wiping it off.
	I was washing when, suddenly, the doorbell rang. Quickly, I washed
my hands, and ran for the door. Jonny looked up from this jigsaw puzzle I
had dug up, craning his head to see who it was. I peered out through the
peephole. It was a man. The moon was behind him -- full moon, too -- and I
had turned down the lights slightly, so his features were obscured by
shadows. But, he had the build of Jonny's Uncle Josh, so I unlocked the
door, and opened it.
	"Uh . . . a lady at the Fair told me that a little boy was here
. . .?" His voice was deep but not too deep. Rich and timbreful, his words
made me shiver. Again, I got that strange sensation of danger, stronger
than before. And, I knew what it was. I had no doubt, then, that this guy
was probably my dream man, good-looking and NOT a jerk, which made him
doubly dangerous.
	Overwhelmed as I was at that moment, I cobbled together what was
left of my wits. "Yes, there is a kid here, but how do I know that you're a
relative or guardian of some kind?"
	He paused. "Uh . . . Ask Jonny. I think he'll recognise me."
	I watched him for a moment then, turned around and called out,
"Jonny, can you come out here for a while?"
	I could see him as he got up from the floor, and slowly walk
towards me. He barely took a look at the man in the doorway before he
shrieked out, "UNCLE JOSH!!!", and ran into his uncle's arms. The guy swung
him up, kissing him on the cheek, murmuring, "Where WERE you, Jonny? I was
so worried . . . ."
	I could only watch them, a smile playing on my lips as I saw the
gentle way this Josh held Jonny in his arms, the way Jonny was hugging his
uncle. I didn't want to break in on the happy moment but . . .
	"Mr . . .?"
	"Chasez. The name's Chasez." I could hear the grin in his voice,
and almost see it, too.
	"Mr Chasez, I don't mean to lecture you but your nephew could have
been seriously lost, you know, if my friends hadn't found him." I could
feel his eyes on me, and it was making me distinctly uneasy. "I just hope
that you'll be more careful in the future . . ."
	I could actually feel his gaze moving up and down, as he took in my
attire. I felt my face flush. I must look an IDIOT in those bloody clothes!
But I was grateful that he couldn't see my face in the dark. Hopefully, he
didn't. "Actually, he's not really my nephew but I know his brother, you
see. But, you're right. I should have been more careful. Thank you for
pointing that out." He bent down to set Jonny on the ground, and knelt
beside the boy. "Jonny, will you forgive me? Forgive me for not keeping a
close watch on you?" His voice was more serious, and I knew he meant
it. Inside, I applauded his actions. At least, he took the boy
seriously. Most people these day don't really do that.
	The boy considered before nodding his head. "Uncle Josh," he said
softly, almost too soft for me to hear, "will you forgive me for running
off without saying anything?" His "uncle" nodded, and kissed Jonny on his
cheek. He stood, abruptly, in a smooth action. One moment, he was kneeling,
the next, he was standing. I realised that he was taller than me, though,
probably not more than an inch -- or two -- taller. "And, Mr . . ?"
	I was startled when he did that, so I barely heard him. "No,
misters here. Just call me Allie."
	I saw him smile, then, and my heart ached with the warmth in that
smile. "Allie, then. Thank you so much for taking care of Jonny for a
while. I don't know how I can thank you enough . . ."
	I grinned. "Actually, I should be thanking you. Jonny is delightful
company, though, for a moment, I was scared that he would eat me out of my
house," I said, and ruffled Jonny's hair. Again. For the 200th time,
probably. Jonny stuck his tongue out at me, and, then, grinned.
	"I did notice that about him . . ."
	"Uncle JOSH!"
	"Just kidding!"
	I smiled again. They were adorable, the two of them. But, it was
time to say goodbye. I knelt down by Jonny, and whispered, "It was nice
having you here, Jonny."
	The kid actually blushed. " I like spending time with you, too," he
said shyly.
	"And, if you come back, I"ll teach you to sing the chicken song,
OK?"
	Jonny giggled, and nodded.
	"Bye, then. Take care." I kissed him gently on his forehead, the
clean scent of his skin filling my nostrils. He seemed to hesitate for a
moment, then kissed me back, on my cheek. I smiled, and stood up, gently
ruffling his hair. For the 201st time.
	I shook hands with Jonny's uncle, then watched as Jonny took his
uncle's hand, and the two of them walked down the little path between my
gardens. Jonny turned back once, to wave goodbye, and then, they vanished
into the gloom of the night. Shivering, I wrapped my hands around
myself. It was strange how quickly I became fond of Jonny -- very
strange. I've always thought that liking someone can be so hard, loving
even worse. I mean, when you like someone a lot -- as a friend or whatever
-- it becomes a little hard when they're gone. I don't even want to imagine
what it would feel like to be in love, and then having that love leave you.
	I was thinking about everything, I know, everything, BUT Jonny's
Uncle Josh. He scared me so much, in that way I mentioned. It would be so
easy to get another crush, except this time, it would be worse than
ever. But, hopefully, he was out of my life -- him and Jonny. I realised I
was standing outside on a cold January night, and I retreated into the
sanctum of my home. Somehow, the house felt just a little more empty, a
little less cheerful. It felt like there hadn't been any laughter in that
room for a long, long, time.
	No point depressing myself. I turned in early. After stripping out
of that stupid robe. Just thinking about it made me flush again in
embarrassment. I felt like a fool. Probably not for the last time,
though. I lied down on my bed, my mind awhirl, thinking . . . . a bit of
the present and a bit of the past. And a lot about Josh. I could still hear
his voice, higher than mine, but still rich and full, almost intoxicating
in its headiness. It was the type of voice you would imagine on a handsome,
smooth, suave singer, belting out soulful tunes.
	But, I didn't want this. Not again. I tried hard NOT to think about
it, but too late. Justin . . . . I sobbed in pain at that name. He was my
first crush, back in school, when I first found out what I was. He was
shorter than me, but beautiful with a pert nose, longish hair that was neat
and silky, and large, brown eyes. His laugh was like music, his voice a
song. He loved the sound of his own voice, and he loved anything that would
display it: talking, singing, anything, as long as he could marvel over his
own voice.
	I sat next to him, then, shy and too tall for my age. I was younger
than he was at 14, but already more developed. I was awed over his beauty,
and he knew it. I could still remember the times he used to coax me into
doing his work for him. History, English, Physics. We took the same
subjects, and I always helped him. I tried telling myself that I did it
because we were friends . . . . but I knew better. He enthralled me, with
those clear eyes; his lean, warm body that I could almost feel as he sat
next to me; the warm breath that I could feel on my neck as he whispered to
me in class. I was a fool. I knew he liked girls but I didn't want to stop
doing things for him. In the end, after we graduated, after I had convinced
my heart that we were friends, he simply left, and never kept in contact
ever again. That HURT so bad. I was depressed after that incident,
depressed because I had given my heart to a bastard, and he simply crushed
it after he had used me for as long as he could. I became warier, careful
about whom I had crushes over, b'cos I was always scared that the next
would turn into another Justin.
	Even thinking about him made my heart ache again, and my eyes began
welling with tears. Oh, Justin, Justin, Justin . . . .  I cried long and
hard. Even after seven long years, I still hurt inside, hurt like
hell. When I was done, I looked up at the ceiling, my pillow damp with
tears. I could still remember my resolution -- the one I had made that
night after he left, after I realised the truth. "Never will I let another
hurt me so bad. NEVER." I think I kept to it. I had crushes, true, but none
were as deep they were that first time. But, now, I was scared that it
would be even deeper with him . . . . .

	I woke up to the sound of a ringing phone. I reached over, grabbed
the handset, and mumbled into it a disgruntled, "Hello?"
	"Sorry to wake you up so early, Allie, but I had to know -- did you
see him?" Shonsea sounded even more excited than she usually did, which is
quite an accomplishment, I have to admit. But I couldn't care less. Someone
was pounding a hammer on my head. It HURT like hell.
	"See who? What are you talking about?" I mumbled, still half
asleep.
	"What do you mean, who? Yesterday, the boy's --"
	"You mean, his uncle?"
	"Is that who he is? WOW! To think to have him as an uncle! The kid
must be real happy!"
	I shook my head to get rid of the pain, then, wished I
hadn't. "What about him?"
	"You mean, you didn't see him properly?"
	"NO, he was in the dark, and I wasn't <yawn> exactly focusing on
him --"
	"You -- you IDIOT! Don't you know who that was?" I could almost
hear her gnashing her teeth.
	"WHO?" I yawned.
	"That was JC -- from N'Sync!!!"
	I froze in mid-yawn. It couldn't be! But his voice had sounded
familiar -- as if I had heard it before . . . . Gosh! A real star -- in my
home. But, then . . . .
	"Yeah, so?" I said, sounding more disinterested than I was.
	"What do you mean, SO??" Shonsea shrieked into the phone.
	"So, what? True, he's a star and everything but other than that,
he's just human."
	She snorted on her side of the phone. "Just human! Hah! Most girls
-- and some guys for that matter -- don't think the same, you know! Well,
whatever! By the way, you should have been there. It was real fun!"
	I groaned. "Please don't rub it in. Anything happened?"
	"Not much. Just that we're close to getting the 'Rose of Jumlaq'"
she said, matter-of-factly.
	"You're kidding!" I shouted, fully awake.
	"Yup! Gaia managed to trace the Lethryl back to her lair, and we
slew her there. It was old Bombur who found the secret door that led to
Archai'nyn. We followed it, right, and we managed to find the portal to the
Oracle. She told us that the 'Rose' lies within the teeth of the Wyrm. A
bit more after that, but I'll tell you later, OK? Are you coming for
today's Fair?"
	"Mebbe -- I don't really know. I'm just a it lazy today."
	"Just today? I don't think so."
	"Ha ha. Very funny -- not! We'll see, OK? If I'm not there by noon,
it probably means I'm not coming."
	"Fine! See you then. Either later on or tonight! Ciao."
	"Bye!" I managed before she hung up. I shook my head. JC! I have to
admit that it was quite unnerving. To think I was that close to somebody
famous . . . . seriously, I was OK about it -- I'm not like a huge fan or
anything. I just like a few songs -- but a normal person really doesn't
expect to meet anybody famous.
	I just lay there, thinking for a while, then bounded out of bed, to
the bathroom. I squeezed some toothpaste on my brush, and scrubbed
desperately. I twisted the faucet, letting the water run, filling my cup to
gargle. As soon as I was done, I shook my can of shaving cream before
coating my chin with the foamy substance. Carefully, with the razor, I
scraped, gently but firmly as well. It always amused me no end to hear
about someone nicking themselves while shaving. That never happened to me
before -- not once.
	I had just finished wiping my face with a towel when the doorbell
rang. I frowned. Couldn't be Shonsea. Or Gail. Or Lian. Or Terry. Nobody I
knew would come that early. I was a late riser on Saturday and Sunday
mornings, and everyone who knew me knew that -- today was the
exception. Who could it be? I shucked a bathrobe over my PJs, tied it, and
hopped down. I yawned once, as I walked over to the door, then opened it. I
blinked when I thought I saw who was there, but the optical illusion I
thought I saw didn't vanish.
	"Hello!" Jonny chirped, a cap on his head, a red woollen vest
covering his white shirt.
	I smiled wryly. "What happened? You got lost again?" I said, and
crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe.
	Jonny made a face, then stuck out his tongue at me. "No. I came
over to say hi!"
	"Alone?"
	"Not really," a voice said, and then he appeared, striding down the
path. He smiled sheepishly. "I sent Jonny first, 'cos I was parking the
Jeep."
	"I see," I said, calmly. Calm at least, on the outside. Inside, I
could feel my heart drumming in my chest, and I had a sudden urge to slam
the door shut. But, I wanted to look in those wide blue eyes, tinged with
the barest hint of emerald. I wanted to look at how beautiful he was in
those worn, blue jeans, wearing the same red vest as Jonny, over a white
shirt as well. I had to exert myself to stop from staring, to stop from
reaching out to play with those golden-brown locks, to stop from throwing
myself at his feet. Instead, I asked, "Do you want to come in?"
	"Sure."
	They stepped in, and when his eyes lingered on me, I was SO
conscious of how I must look, in my white bathrobe, my hair unbrushed as it
was. Surreptitiously, I combed my hair with my fingers, wincing as my
finger swept through tangles.
	"I see we woke you up from your sleep. Sorry," he said, grinning
apologetically. "If you want, we can come back later --"
	"No, no. There's no need. I always wake up this early anyway," I
lied. "I was just lazing, you know." He nodded.
	"By the way, I never fully introduced myself. My name's JC Chasez,"
he said and offered me his hand.
	I shook his hand, lightly, dreading the effect of even that gentle
touch. "Allie Wu."
	"Jonathan Timberlake," Jonny piped up. I ruffled his hair again,
and he smacked my hand. Timberlake? That meant that he was . . . .
	I could sense that JC had seen that look of recognition in my eyes
at that name, and there was an expression of curiosity on his face, as if
he was waiting to see how I would react. I almost snorted. He sure was
arrogant! He may be famous and everything, but I'll be darned if I started
grovelling at his feet. I smoothed my face of any expression, except for
calm serenity, and inquired, "Would you like to have something to drink?
Maybe, something to eat?"
	Jonny began nodding eagerly, and I laughed. JC had a smile playing
on his lips, and he nodded with a mumbled, "Thank you!" I left him,
confusion on his face. Seriously, I don't think anyone had ever NOT reacted
like I just did. I smiled to myself, and it stuck on my face as I brewed
some tea. I toasted some bread, took out a few cuts of ham, tossed
everything together into sandwiches before filling a glass with chocolate
milk, for Jonny. I was quite proud of myself. I had gotten used to the idea
of treating JC as a guest and not a celebrity. I don't think many can
actually do that.
	When I got the table set up, and finally sat down, JC was regarding
me with a bemused look. Though I just smiled back at him, I was raging
inside. WHAT was so funny about me, that kept him SO amused? I contented
myself with nibbling at my sandwich, even though I felt like smacking that
smile off his face. I guess you can see that I have quite a temper. Not
something I'm proud of, but I'm stuck with it. Finally, though, my anger
died down, instead, replaced by an artist's appreciation of beauty.
	He had beautiful hands, graceful and strong. It looked as if he was
good with musical instruments, and remembering what I did of him, he should
be. JC had that classic profile. I don't think he knew I was watching him,
and that just made him look more boyish than ever. His shoulders were broad
enough to make him look athletic, without giving him the image of an ardent
bodybuilder. In fact, JC looked like one of those lucky few who were
metabolically efficient, and would always remain trim no matter how much he
ate. I thought I managed to keep my glances hidden but I noticed him eyeing
me from the corner of his eyes, so I stopped looking, and concentrated on
my meal.
	Jonny was eating like there was no tomorrow, hurriedly wolfing down
his meal as if he was starving. It was amusing to watch, but also rather
alarming. Who could think such a small boy could eat SO much? When he was
done, he just sat there, looking at the two of us, but I could sense him
squirming in his seat. JC was looking at his "nephew" with an arched
inquiring eyebrow, but Jonny remained silent, fidgeting with himself
silently. I had a suspicion of what was bothering him, and I finally caved
in.
	"Cartoons are on Channel 5, remember?"
	Jonny jumped eagerly at that. "You mean . . . can I --"
	"Go ahead." With a mumbled thanks, Jonny tore out of there,
throwing himself on the couch before fiddling with the remote. The TV
instantly flickered to life with a roar as the theme song of 'Beast Wars'
filled the air. Kids. I turned my head back, and noticed the look of
admiration on JC's face.
	"That was cool. How did you know what was bothering him?"
	I smiled. "Easy. Today's Saturday and that's when all the cartoons
-- the good ones anyway -- are on. It was just an exercise in jumping to
conclusions."
	"You're pretty smart," JC said admiringly.
	I laughed depreciatingly. "More like, I never grew up, which
explains the understanding part."
	He smiled. We were both silent as we continued our meal. Only the
roar of the TV filled in the silence but even without it, I would feel
comfortable. Usually, when you meet a stranger, when there's a silence, it
always feels uncomfortable. But, somehow, I felt perfectly at ease with JC,
silence or no silence. I guess he was that type of guy who's pretty
friendly with everyone, so friendly that he puts everyone at ease. I was
enjoying that strange moment when, suddenly, JC piped up.
	"You know who I am, right?" he asked softly.
	"Yeah . . . ." I replied, warily. If he . . .
	"So . . . . you're not gonna freak out soon are you? I mean, since
you didn't do it before . . ."
	I snorted. "Did you know that you are unbelievably arrogant? You
may be famous and etc., etc., etc., but I don't HAVE to be overawed, do I?"
	He grinned sheepishly, putting a hand behind his
head. "Sorry. You're right, I know, but I've just gotten too used to people
screaming hysterically whenever they see me. Especially girls." He grimaced
slightly. He even looked good doing that.
	"Don't worry. I won't hold it against you that you're unbelievably
famous, rich and admired."
	He laughed. It was a wonderful sound. "I guess you're right. Thank
you so much," he said with mock solemnity.
	I started grinning. At least, he wasn't the insufferable prig that
some stars are. I finally began to relax. He was very charming, with a fine
wit and a good sense of humour. All in all, he didn't seem too bad a
person. For a while, there was just silence, stretching on. I sipped at my
tea, watching Jonny from the corner of my eye. He was really absorbed in
whatever was on at the moment.
	"JC," I began, "not that you and Jonny are unwelcome, but why did
you come today -- besides thanking me, I mean?" I looked at him
expectantly. I never noticed it earlier but he had he most incredible blue
eyes I've ever seen. Deep and warm, and so blue, yet seemingly tinged with
the slightest hint of green.
	JC bit his lip, and then said, "Well, we -- Justin and I -- had
planned to treat you to lunch for all you did. You aren't busy, are you? I
mean, we would really like to thank you for everything. If Lynn ever found
out that I actually lost Jonny, she'd KILL me!" A rather exaggerated look
crossed his face, and I laughed. He grinned in return, his teeth white and
straight. "Well, other than that, you are the only person whom I actually
remotely even know here. So, how 'bout it?" He arched an eyebrow.
	"I can't help it! Your incredible flair with words has hooked me --
I'll join the Dark Side, father!" I did in my best Luke Skywalker voice. JC
rolled his eyes. "Thanks a lot!" he said, then grinned. "How 'bout I take
you out to my place, we pick up Justin, then we go for lunch?"
	I shrugged. "If you want. Anything's fine by me." A thought crossed
my mind. "JC?"
	"Yeah?" He leant back into the chair, his eyes half-closed.
	"Where are you gonna go for lunch? I mean, you do want to avoid the
crowds, right?"
	He opened his eyes, considering. "You know, you're right. Do you
have a suggestion as to where to go? Some place nice, I mean?"
	Dryly, I said, "I wouldn't know but I can give it a try. Hmmm,
where can you get good food in a relatively clean place, unlike the filthy
hovels I frequent?"
	JC held up his hands, protesting, "Hey! I didn't mean it that way!"
	I simply looked at him, a smile on my lips. "Where do you guys
stay, anyway? How many of you are here, anyway? Not all your fellows?"
	"No, no. Just Justin, Jonny and I. Everybody else went somewhere
entirely . . . . We stay somewhere nearby. You know that villa by the far
side off the lake? The one with the low stone wall?"
	I nearly choked. "You guys stay there? How did you get it? It's Old
Lady Reynolds' jig. She never lets it out, as far as I know."
	He smiled wryly. "It just so happens that Mrs Reynolds is one of
Lynn's friends. Anyway, Lynn kinda owns part of it, so it's kinda ours."
	"There seems to be a lot of 'kinda's in that sentence."
	He shrugged. He appeared to be lost in thought when he suddenly
said, "Allie, could I have your number?"
	I was rather surprised. Not that I expected him to be interested at
all -- he was as straight as an arrow -- but the idea of JC asking for my
number was disconcerting, to say the least. He must have seen something on
my face 'cos he hurriedly added, "I mean, since we're like neighbours, it
wouldn't hurt to get somebody's number -- somebody whom I know and like. I
mean, you could show us around New Zealand . . . "
	I pulled at a stray lock of hair, chewing my lip. considering. JC
was nice, and all, but he was quite fascinating to me -- in a way that
might not be good for me. Yet, the chance to hear his voice, and get to
know him better was a desirable goal. So, it was this or that. Either give
or not.
	"I assure you. I'm not a murderer, and I don't go around mutilating
people," JC chimed in so suddenly that I was startled. "It wasn't that. Or
maybe it was. I was just thinking how little I know you or about you. Still
. . ." SO in the end, I caved in, and gave it to him. I just hoped I wasn't
going to regret this.

	When we finally tore Jonny away from the TV, it was somewhere past
noon. JC had called Justin, though he did need my help in finding the
phone. Finally did find it, though, hidden under the sofa. I couldn't
remember leaving it there, though. After confirming with Justin, we got
into JC's red Jeep and he drove leisurely to the villa. It was good day to
be out. Partly cloudy, with good cool winds, it was still warm enough
despite the coming autumn, that all we really needed was a sweater. I sat
behind JC with Jonny since Justin was coming after all. I was just looking
out most of the times, the rush of air whipping my hair into a mess which I
straightened with my fingers. Jonny lay pressed against me, my arm around
him. He felt like a teddy bear, one that I would love to hug all the
time. He was just so cuddly.
	JC kept looking at us through the rearview mirror, amusement so
prominent on his face. I guess we looked pretty familial, with Jonny like
my younger brother, for all that we looked so much different. When he knew
that I had caught him looking, his grin only became wider until I stuck my
tongue out at him. Then, he laughed.
	The drive took about ten minutes, I guess, since we took the long
way, whipping through the long road. I could hardly care less -- I was
already languorous and dreamy, with the smooth purr of the Jeep beneath me,
the cool air, the warmth of the sun, the song of birds gentle and soft in
the background . . . . When we finally reached the villa, I hardly noticed
except for Justin's arrival.
	He looked much like an older version of Jonny who was already lying
half-asleep against me, with golden curls, and lightly tanned skin. I
noticed with delight that his eyes were a deep blue, almost the color of
the sky itself. But his smile . . . how I ached when he smiled at me -- it
reminded me so much of my own Justin. I quickly pushed those thoughts down,
and shook his hand when he offered it to me.
	"So, Allie, where do we go?" JC turned to look at me, his eyes
enquiring.
	"Well, " I began, slowly, "my friend has this place near the
lake. It's pretty quiet, and I can guarantee privacy for the two of
you. The food's good, and it's a mixed affair. so you can pick whatever you
want. There's straight NZ fare, American, Mexican, Chinese, Italian, and a
lot more."
	JC turned back to Justin. "What do you think, Just?"
	"Not bad. I kinda like it," he said, flashing me a grin. I was
slightly startled when I started humming "Possibility", and quickly
stopped. I liked his voice, though. Higher than JC's, it was more
vibrant. And, then, I noticed how much younger he looked. About 18, I
guess.
	JC started the car, and we were on our way. I was quiet throughout
the short ride, though Jonny was wide awake, and talking with Justin. There
was something in the air, I guess, something that just made me feel so
sleepy, and so exhilarated at the same time. Whatever it was, I hoped it
passed soon. When JC asked me for directions, I directed them to Shon's
restaurant, the one she called "Blue Mirror". Strange name, I guess, but
that's Shonsea for you.
	I hustled them into the restaurant, partly because I was ravenous
and also partly b'cos particularly cold winds were picking up, and I was
wearing the thinnest sweater among the four of us. Sarah, a petite girl --
or young lady, I guess -- directed us to our table, in a private dining
room. I was pretty well known there, maybe b'cos of Shonsea, but I think it
was mainly due to the fact that most of the employees there were former
students of mine. Sarah was one of them. The look she gave me was part
happiness at seeing me, and trepidation at the sight of a former
teacher. When she handed us our menus, and hurried away for a jar of ice
water, I took my time.
	I could see JC and Justin looking around the place. Jonny was too
busy studying his menu. The Mirror isn't that bad, I guess, with smoked
glass covering the veranda, where there was this fabulous view of the
lake. Of course, that meant sitting out in the cold, and most usually
declined at the prospect. It's not exactly appetite-inducing to sit in the
cold. There were the masks that Shonsea liked crafting; those hung all over
the place. I helped in some but my favourite was the one we both made
together. With a lot of feathers, the mask had slits in the front for eyes,
slits that were threaded with gold lining, and the feathers were even more
striking with the glorious purple, white, blue, red and green that we had
fussed over. You could actually buy the masks off the wall, if you wanted,
but Shonsea swore to me that she would never sell that mask.
	"Hey, Allie! Got any suggestions on what to order?" I jumped at
JC's question.
	"Hey, what's this Avadayata special?" Justin asked, a frown on his
face.
	Ohmigosh! "Wait! Don't order that! You have to be really able to
take spicy stuff before you can touch that!"
	JC smiled. "C'mon, it can't be that spicy!"
	"Take my advice, OK? Don't order unless you want to go to the
hospital . . ."
	"You're exaggerating, right?" Justin arched one blond eyebrow.
	I sighed. "How about this? I'll order one bowl and you guys can
try. If you like it, you can order it as well. But, that means you had
better not order anything yet. OK?"
	Dubiously, JC relented, "Well, OK, I guess." Justin just shrugged.
	When Sarah came back, she was incredulous. "Are you sure, Allie? I
mean, I know you can take it but still . . . ." I noticed that she barely
glanced at JC and Justin, both of whom noticed as well. "Go on, Sarah. It's
my choice."
	"Yes, sir," she said automatically, and blushed. Jonny ordered as
well, though, I had to get him to try something else other than hot
dogs. "C'mon, Jonny. How about something good like this lunch set? There's
a bit of everything . . ."
	"Nope. I want my hot dog."
	"C'mon, Jonny. You just can't eat hot dogs all the time . . . "
	"I can to!"
	It went back and forth until I glared at the other two who had
remained silent. "Hello! You could help, ya know!" In the end, I gave
up. Sarah was glad to scuttle away, though I did ask her to bring a pitcher
of ice water to the table.
	JC looked at me. "What was that thing about the 'sir' business?" he
asked curiously.
	I smiled wryly. "Well, I used to teach Sarah art when I was 17 or
so. I was pretty strict, I guess, and it seems that the 'conditioning'
stuck. Sometimes, when I encounter one of my former students, they're torn
between treating me as they did when they were twelve, and acting their
age. But, it was fun, you know, to teach art . . . ."
	"You paint?" Justin asked, chewing on one of the bread sticks.
	"I nodded. JC turned to Justin. "You should see the ones he
sells. They're simply incredible!" I blushed. "They're only the rejects, JC
-- nothing spectacular."
	"You mean, you have better paintings?" he said, incredulously.
	"Yeah . . ." I said, cautiously. He was planning something.
	"Allie . . ." he hesitated.
	"What?"
	"Could you show me some of those paintings?" JC looked me in the
eyes.
	"Me, too," Justin chimed in.
	"Me, three." That was from Jonny. I laughed, and ruffled his hair.
	"If you guys want . . . ."
	"I'll take that as a promise." Justin smiled enigmatically.
	We talked a bit more, some senseless stuff, and some serious
things. I did my best to make sure that Jonny wasn't excluded but he seemed
pretty much fascinated by the sight of birds flying over the lake. At
times, he would press his face against the glass, the smoothness clouding
over with condensation. But when the food came, he quickly scampered over
to the table.
	As promised, I gave Justin and JC their taste of the thick,
reddish-orange curry, making sure that they had plenty of water close
by. One taste, and Justin's face began flushing, and he quickly reached for
the glass of water, downing it in one gulp, before refilling his glass. JC
was a bit more spectacular. He coughed, and then, his face was flushed with
sweat. He coughed, and again, and again, until I thrust the glass into his
hand. He drank as much as he could, refilling it. Between the two of them,
they finished the pitcher, and I had to get Sarah to bring another. Her
face had the too obvious composure of one trying hard not to laugh. Even
Jonny was giggling away. Myself, I kept my face smooth but I knew a smile
was playing on my lips, tugging them up into the beginning of a laugh.
	When they finally stopped, I teased, "Want another taste?" Both
shook their heads vehemently. I called Sarah over, and the two of them
finally ordered something a little more sedate. I smiled again before
digging in. It was good, though, it was spicy, indeed, but I could take
it. When I looked up, Justin's face was disbelieving, and JC looked
stunned.
	"What?" I asked, sure I knew what they were thinking.
	"You're actually going to eat that?" Justin was aghast.
	"Yeah. It's quite good actually."
	"How do you do it?" JC demanded.
	"I've had years of experience, you know. In Malaysia, where I was
born, we had much spicier fare." I laughed at the incredulous looks on
their faces.
	The rest of lunch was pretty much the same, with jokes thrown
courtesy of JC and Justin. I laughed until my sides hurt, and told them
other stories, in return. It was pretty enjoyable. It was not until the end
that I realised that we had treated each other like close friends. I really
got to know them. Justin was actually quite mischievous in a way, always
willing to have a good laugh, but he knew when to stop and be serious. JC,
though, was different. He liked to enjoy himself, and he liked to indulge
as well, but I saw in him a conscientious fellow, who tried his best to be
good. JC was exactly the type of person I would have cheerfully despised,
but, somehow, he made me like him. He wasn't proud, but he wasn't humble,
either. He was, in a nutshell, wonderfully human.
	When the bill was settled, I managed to slip my share in by passing
it to Sarah who then handed it back to the guys. They weren't exactly too
pleased with that but I told them that they had more than settled the
balance by making my time with them so enjoyable. We got into the Jeep
again, and we took another slow drive through the countryside, until we
ended up in the villa. We dropped Justin and Jonny, who was close to
falling asleep on his feet, and I moved in front, next to JC. He started
the Jeep, and I began looking out again.
	"Allie?"
	"Yeah?"
	"Are you in a hurry to get back or something?"
	I turned to look at JC. He was staring at the road in front of
him. "Not really. Why?"
	He looked at me and grinned. "Well, I think I have to work off some
pounds so I was thinking of going for a walk around the lake. I was just
wondering if you'd like to go to."
	I smiled. "Sure."
	It was quiet when we got to the bank of the lake. JC parked the
Jeep somewhere off the road, and we got out. The wind was picking up. I
could feel it, like long cold fingers, brushing up against me. The path to
the lake was kinda rocky but I was wearing sneakers, as was JC, so it
wasn't too difficult to get there. As I stared out at the immensity of the
blue lake, its smooth surface reflecting the sky above so well, I was
struck again by the incredible beauty of it all. This was all I really
needed. All I really wanted. I didn't need anything else. Nor
anyone. Except for my friends, of course, but even that want seemed to pale
as I stood there. I was conscious of JC standing beside me, so close that I
could feel the warmth emanating off his body. He looked so beautiful,
standing there, head tilted up to the sky, eyes closed. I should have felt
some sexual urge, at least, looking at him like that. But all I felt was
awe at his beauty, and the fervent need to touch him, to see that he was
real, and not a figment of my imagination.
	I remember reading somewhere, of a story, where the heroine found
herself incapable of thinking anything lewd. And she used to explain that
somewhere in her head was an elderly, retired postal worker, a strict old
lady who marked anything the slightest bit uninhibited with red ink,
stamping it "RETURN TO SENDER". Now, I felt as if that old lady had moved
into my head. I actually haven't been able to squeeze off anything the
slightest bit erotic. Maybe, that old lady really had moved.
	JC opened his eyes, and looked at me, smiling. "It is beautiful,
isn't it?"
	"Yes, you're right." You're beautiful, I thought.
	"Wanna walk?"
	"Sure," I replied with a shrug, and a rueful smile.
	It was disconcerting to walk with JC. He hummed from time to time,
his voice filling me with a strange new feeling. "Did I tell you I heard
you singing?"
	"I saw you, ya know," I stated, looking at him from the corner of
my eye.
	"Well, yeah," he began, sheepishly, "anyway, you have an excellent
voice."
	"Since you're the expert, I'll take your word for it," I quipped.
	He gave me a flat stare, and chuckled. "Smart aleck."
	"I'm glad you noticed."
	He really laughed, then.
	We were quiet for a while, then, not talking but, then, I guess, we
really didn't need to. I was just happy being near him. I mean, JC was
nice, and, true, he was damn gorgeous, but I liked him for who he was, and
I doubt if I had anything real for him, besides friendship. I could look,
though, since there was no harm in looking. I mean, looking at beauty is OK
for an artist, right? Maybe. Anyhow, we just walked for a while, or at
least, I thought so, until I found out that we had nearly walked the length
of the lake, and that's no mean feat. Through unspoken assent, we walked
back to the Jeep, still silent.
	When JC spoke, then, I was startled. "How cold do you think the
water is?"
	"Very. If you walked in it, you'd probably become so numb that you
could hardly move. And then, you'd drown." I said that rather
matter-of-factly.
	JC looked at me, curiosity in his eyes. "So, then, how would
someone rescue a drowning person?"
	"Why? You wanna try?" I laughed as he began protesting. "I was just
kidding. Well," I considered, my tone becoming more serious, "something
like that did happen once. They swam after the kid, wearing this wetsuit,
b'cos supposedly, the suit buffered you from the cold. Then, they hauled
both the rescuer and the kid in. The guy wasn't in that bad a condition but
they had to send the kid to the hospital."
	"Oh. I see."
	We were almost close to the Jeep when I turned to JC and said, "JC,
why don't you go on back? I mean, it's only a short walk to back to my
house from here."
	"I can't do that. What if something happens to you?"
	"This isn't New York, you know. It's pretty much safe. Anyway, I
insist."
	Reluctantly, JC gave in, "Well, if you insist."
	He was silent. "Allie?"
	"Yeah?"
	"I hope we can be friends. I really like you."
	I smiled at him and squeezed his hand, gently. "We already are, I
think."
	JC returned my smile, and squeezed my hand, in return. "I know we
are."
	I crossed the road, surmounting the gentle slope. "Bye, JC. See
you," I said, and waved goodbye to him. I quickly turned my back on him so
I didn't know if he waved back, but I couldn't face him, to see how
wonderful he looked with the sun shining on his hair. I just couldn't.

	The walk back, I just thought on what was happening. I liked JC, I
really did, and Justin, and Jonny, of course, but it was JC that really
figured in my thoughts. I wanted to be his friend, but, I was scared if,
one day, I couldn't handle being just his friend. I don't really know what
would happen.
	When I reached my house, it seemed just a little emptier than it
had ever been. I just threw myself on the couch, my arm over my eyes, my
head throbbing. The phone rang, loudly. I groaned. Who could it be, now? I
picked up the receiver, and mumbled, "Hello?"
	"Allie? This is JC."
	Almost immediately, I sat up and spoke more clearly. "Oh, hi,
JC. What's up?"
	"I was just wondering, right, whether you wanted to go out
tomorrow. You see, Just and Jonny are going fishing near the lake, and
well, I was never an avid fisherman. So, I was just wondering if you have
any suggestions on where to go?"
	I spoke, hesitantly. "Well, JC, there's this place, about two hours
drive away, called Milford Sound. If you want, we can rent a boat and go
cruising around. If you want."
	"Sounds great. How about I pick you up tomorrow around ten in the
morning?"
	"Sure. Oh, yeah, if you wanna go swim, you can, ya know, though, I
wouldn't exactly suggest Milford Sound. But, I was thinking of stopping by
Queenstown for lunch, and on the way back, we could always go swimming in
the heated pool near the Club there. Are you game?"
	"OK. I guess I have to bring my own swimming trunks, right?"
	"Unless you wanna go skinny-dipping." I could feel my mouth
quirking into a smile.
	"Hmmm, that's a suggestion there . . . ."
	"JC, you're not serious, right? Right?" I was half amused, half
scandalized. "I don't want to get thrown out of the Club, OK?"
	"Well, if you want an answer, you'll just have to wait till
tomorrow." He laughed evilly, and said, "See ya later, alligator."
	"Bye," I said, but he had already hung up.
	Shonsea came over that night for dinner. She almost always did. We
took turns cooking dinner but when it was her turn, we usually ended up
calling for pizza or eating out. She's a lousy cook.
	"Hello, Allie," she called out as she breezed in through the back
door. "I brought some apple juice for dinner and some roses. I'll put it in
the vase for you."
	I just said "Hi!" and let her bustle around the kitchen.
	"Where's dinner? What IS for dinner?" she asked, finally stepping
out of the kitchen.
	"Hmm, we're having --" and I stopped there, my mouth
dropping. Shonsea had actually pulled out all the feathers in her hair, and
had, instead, bound it up in an elegant coiffure. And, she was wearing
JEANS! Shonsea! Shonsea who always wore only those black gowns!
	She smiled at me. "You like it?" She turned around, showing off the
cream-coloured blouse that she wore. Even the black nail polish was
scrubbed clean, and her nails had been trimmed.
	"What happened to you?" I blurted out.
	"I was just dressing up for Jeff. He likes me like this."
	"So, you and Jeff are officially a thing?"
	Shon beamed at me. "Yup."
	"I'm happy for you," I said, and squeezed her arm.
	She squeezed my hand back, and quietly said, "What about you,
Allie? You don't intend to be alone forever, do you? You can't, you know."
	I shrugged. "It's fate. I just can't seem to find anybody."
	"How about Derek? You know he's crazy about you. Why don't you give
him a chance?"
	I sighed wearily. We had been through this many times. "Shon, you
know the choices I made a long time ago. I'm keeping to those choices, and
I don't think it'd be fair to Derek -- or anybody else for that matter --
to be stuck in a relationship like that."
	Her face hardened. "You can be such a fool, Allie." Shon's voice
became gentler, a little wearier. "Why don't you just let somebody shag you
and be done with it?"
	"Shon . . ." I said, warningly.
	She held up her hands as though to surrender. "Fine, fine."
	"As I was saying earlier, dinner's in the oven. Can't you smell it?
We're having baked potatoes and lasagne. I whipped together some toppings
for the potatoes. I think they should be done in a bit."
	Shon rubbed her hands expectantly. "Good, I'm famished."
	I laughed. "You always say that!"
	"B'cos it's always true!"
	I shook my head. Dinner was the same. Lots of teasing as we crammed
food down our throats. Talking about everything. Shon told me that her
parents were coming over next week, at the beginning of March, and we both
despaired of them even approving of Shon's lifestyle.
	As we were starting in on the chocolate chip ice cream I had
bought, Shonsea turned to me. "So, how was it meeting JC?"
	I was flabbergasted. "How did you know about today?"
	She was goggle-eyed. "Today? I was talking about yesterday! You
mean, you saw him today again?"
	"Yeah. He's quite nice. So's Justin."
	"You SAW Justin as well?!"
	I spent a long time, telling her about everything. She was smiling
as I neared the ending of the story, a knowing smile that was so her.
	"What?" I asked.
	"You like him, don't you?"
	Who?" I asked, evasively. I knew her well enough to know that she
knew me.
	"Don't try to evade, Allie. JC, of course. You really like him,
don't you?" The smile was even more wide now.
	I sighed. Loudly. "Shon, I know how to remain friends with
incredibly good-looking straight guys, OK? Though, he IS rather cute, isn't
he?" I said, and giggled. Oh Lord, I was turning into a school girl.
	"You're right, there!" Cautiously, she added, "Are you sure there's
nothing on at all between you and him?"
	"For there to be a thing, there has to be something from him,
wouldn't there? Anyway, I only like him as a friend."
	"If you say so. You wanna come with me to Queenstown, tomorrow?
Jeff and I are going in for a movie -- I think it was "Simply
Irresistible", I think."
	I looked at the floor for a moment before I replied. "Can't, I'm
going out tomorrow."
	A look filled her eyes. "With who?"
	"JC," I answered, still not looking at her.
	"Allie . . . . Where are you going?"
	"Milford Sound, and then, Queenstown. Maybe we'll see you there."
	"If you want . . . ."
	I scowled at her. "Just eat your ice cream, Shon."
	Burying her face in her cup, Shon murmured loud enough for me to
hear, "I wonder who's gonna get some tomorrow night?"
	"Shut up, Shon . . . ."
	She giggled.

	By 9:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, I was already dressed and waiting
for JC, sipping some orange juice. I had dressed as appropriately as I
thought I should, with a white T-shirt under a loose, open long-sleeved
blue denim shirt, and long, loose blue jeans. I tucked my little
crystal-on-a-thong back under my T-shirt, then reconsidered, and took it
out. I was nervous, constantly fiddling with my sleeves, first rolling it
up, then pulling them down, and finally, rolling it up again. It was with a
supreme effort of will that I forced my hands down to the table, and made
them lay still. My duffel bag was by my side, filled with the towels I had
brought, my swimming trunks, an extra one for JC, just in case, my brush, a
change of clothes. a bottle of 'Chromosome', and most important of all, my
wallet.
	At 9:45, I heard a horn, and I ran out, locking my doors, before
jumping into the red Jeep. "You're early. Couldn't wait, huh?" JC
teased. He was wearing a leather jacket over his black T-shirt and jeans.
	"I have ESP, don't you know?" I quipped. "C'mon, driver, let's go."
	JC just grinned and revved the Jeep. Again, as we started down the
road, the same languorous quality was settling over me. I rubbed at my
eyes, my duffel bag, beneath the seat, my legs clutching it. Before I knew
what was happening, I yawned.
	"If you're sleepy, just go to sleep," JC told me, a grin on his
face. He was AMUSED by this. I almost said, no, thank you, but before I
could say it, I think I fell asleep.
	When I woke up, JC was looking around him, the radio softly humming
with the gentle tunes of the Chieftains.
	"You're awake, huh?" He still had that amused tone.
	I yawned. "Sorry. I should have been directing you to the Sound."
	"Don't worry. We have to pass through Queenstown first before
reaching the Sound, right?" I nodded. "Well, getting to Queenstown is
pretty easy. We're almost there, I think."
	He was right. We were already entering the suburbs of
Queenstown. Tall buildings loomed over us, but they didn't seem as tall as
those in the real cities. We zoomed by cars, all quiet on a Sunday
morning. Ohmigosh, Sunday! I motioned to JC to park at an empty bay, and
when he did, I leaped up out of the Jeep, duffel bag in hand.
	"Where are you going?" JC asked as he ran after me.
	"I forgot today was Sunday. I think I can still light a candle for
mass if I hurry." JC gave me an odd look but he didn't say anything. If I
was correct, there was a small church just around the corner. I entered,
quietly, but there weren't much people there anyway. Just an old woman, who
paid for a candle, before lighting before the cross. I slipped some money
to the old priest, waiting behind a table, and I stepped in front of the
cross. I didn't even know that JC was standing beside me until he whispered
in my ear, "What do you do with the candle?"
	I almost jumped. The feel of his warm breath on my ear was
extremely distracting. I whispered back, "Don't you know?"
	"In church back home, we just used to listen to the preacher's
sermons. There was nothing about the candle."
	I laughed softly. "The candle is an older tradition. Last time,
they used to carve candles into fanciful shapes, and burnt as an offering
to God. Now, we use normal candles but it kinda shows that we still believe
in God, and that we keep the flame of faith alive inside us. Just light the
candle, and leave it in the candelabra. Make a prayer as well."
	I lit the wick of the candle, and placed it in the candelabra,
praying inside for the continued goodwill and peace for mankind. JC
mirrored my actions, though, he did mutter softly under his breath. When we
left, after nodding to the priest who returned in kind, I asked him, "What
did you pray for?"
	"Hmm," he grinned, "that you stop falling asleep in my car. You
always drool and it's hard to get that out of the upholstery."
	I almost exploded in laughter. "I DO NOT drool!"
	"Well, you don't -- but you snore!"
	"I DO NOT!"
	"Yes, you do!"
	"Liar!"
	JC just laughed. When we finally stopped laughing, he wiped tears
away and asked, "Where to for lunch?"
	I thought for a moment. "There's this place in the Mall. It's not
bad."
	"Sure."
	We made our way through the Sunday crowd at the Mall, going up to
the 2nd floor, where we had a burger each washed down with a Coke. Then, we
just wandered around before we went back to the Jeep. As we drove away, I
thought I saw him . . . . but, it couldn't be. Could it?
	The drive to Milford Sound was a bit more entertaining for JC since
I was actually awake. I pointed out some sheep to him, and he would comment
that a black-faced ewe looked like his "Aunt Jemma". I laughed so loud that
the ewe darted away. That made us laugh harder. Halfway, though, the radio
played the Corrs' "Don't Say You Love Me." I couldn't stop myself from
singing along while JC listened to me.
	" I've seen this place a thousand times
	I've felt this all before
	And every time you call, I wait in fear
	As though, you might not call at all
	I know this face I'm wearing now
	I've seen it in my eyes
	And though I feel so brave, I'm still afraid
	That you'll be leaving anytime . . . ."
	I let myself unwind in the melody, and was only vaguely surprised
when JC joined me in the chorus.
	" We've done this once
	And then you closed the door
	Don't let me fall again
	For nothing more
	Don't say you love me
	Unless it's forever
	Don't tell me you need me
	If you're not gonna stay
	Don't give me this feeling
	I'll only believe it
	Make it real
	Or take it all away . . . ."
	I looked at JC, and grinned. "Hey, you're not bad!"
	He scowled at me in mock anger. "What do you mean, not bad? I'm
very good!"
	I rolled my eyes at him. "Whatever you say."
	The next verse was already starting.
	" I caught myself smiling alone
	Just thinking of your voice
	And dreaming of your touch
	It's all too much
	You know I don't have any choice . . . ."
	I looked at JC. "You know, I never thought that you would like good
groups like the Corrs. I always thought you would like people like George
Michael or something."
	"I thank you for your praise and confidence in my musical taste,"
he said, dryly. Smiling, I inclined my head as if the thanks was for
real. The look on his face was enough to make me giggle and I did. He
reached over, and messed up my hair real good.
	I scowled at him then pulled my brush from my bad, and started
pulling it through my hair. But I couldn't stay mad at him for long. He was
too nice, you know, to make me mad enough to sulk.
	When we reached the Sound, it was somewhere past one, and the
Marina was, surprisingly, quite empty. JC was about to rent a small little
boat when I saw someone I recognised. "JC, wait! I think I might be able to
get us a boat for free!" Motioning him to follow me, I hurried over to a
yacht with the name "Waverley" emblazoned in black. If I was right . . . .
	I saw him, then, bare-chested and still good-looking in the
sunlight. His white slacks contrasted strongly with his tanned skin, almost
a shade of bronze. I saw him push his golden hair behind his ears -- a
deploringly charming habit that I still remembered. I saw his grey eyes
grow wide as he saw me, then narrow as he saw JC, standing somewhat behind
me. I moved a little closer, a small smile on my lips. I had almost
forgotten how good-looking he was after so many months of avoiding him as
well as I could. My heart beat a little faster, partly from nerves, and
partly b'cos he could still make my heart race.
	"Hello, Allie. It's been a long time." His gaze was disturbingly
intense, and I dropped my eyes. Yes, a long time indeed.
	"Hello, Derek. I'm glad you still remember me," I said, an impish
grin on my lips.
	He barked a laugh and shook his head ruefully. "No one can forget
you, Allie. No one. Especially not me, no matter how hard I try." The last
murmured so softly that I could hardly hear, and certainly not JC. But, I
didn't think he wanted me to hear that last bit. "Just visiting? With your
friend?" he asked, nodding towards JC.
	"Oh, I have been remiss. Um, JC, this is Derek, an old friend," I
said, Derek's face twisted into a tight smile at 'old friend', and I
quickly hurried on, "And, Derek, this is JC, one of my new friends." I put
a slight emphasis on the word 'friends' to let Derek know that he WAS just
a friend, and not a romantic interest.
	Derek studied JC, then shook his hand. "Glad to meet you. Any
friend of Allie's is a friend of mine." JC replied, "Glad to meet you,
too."
	I cleared my throat. "Uh, JC, would it be all right if I spoke with
Derek in private for a while?"
	"Sure." He moved away, to study something in the water.
	"He's very pretty," Derek said, moving closer towards me. "Is he
why you've been avoiding me, Allie? Is he?" he asked harshly, gripping my
arm tightly.
	"Ow, that hurts, Derek! Let me go!" I said, and he let go of me. I
rubbed my hand gently. Derek was strong, stronger than I remembered last
time, though. "First, he's really just a friend. I met him yesterday, OK?
And who said I was avoiding you?"
	"Don't play games with me, Allie!" he grated. "I keep calling you
but you're always busy. You've stopped coming to the Club for months and
you even didn't attend the opening dinner for the Gala! What's that
supposed to tell me? That you're busy? I think you're more than that,
Allie! I KNOW you're avoiding me!"
	Oh God, I didn't know it was this bad. I placed one hand on his
muscled arm but he jerked it away -- not before I felt the trembling
tension underneath, though. "Derek, I have to explain everything I did but
it's not that convenient here. I was thinking of going onto your yacht, and
discussing it with you but -"
	"Fine, we'll go on to Waverley."
	"Wait! How about JC?"
	"You can bring him if you want."
	"Hold on, OK?" I walked over to JC, telling him, "JC, we've got
permission to go on to Waverley. But, I might not be spending so much time
with you. I . . . have things . . to talk about with Derek. Is that OK?"
	He shrugged. "Sure."
	We climbed aboard, and got settled in as Derek rigged up the
anchor, and it began moving away, the waters churning as the prow slashed
into the water, swift and smooth. Derek spent a few minutes, fiddling with
some switches in the engine room, then marched over to me, and took me
below deck. I motioned JC to wait for a while before I vanished into the
yacht. Derek pulled me along into the room that was obviously his, closed
the door, and then gruffly motioned me to sit on the bed. He folded his
arms across that bare chest, and leaned against the door.
	"Talk," he said curtly.
	I looked at him entreatingly. I wet my lips before speaking. "If
you come closer, Dare, it'll be easier for me -- and for you." He shuddered
at that nickname. I used to call him Dare b'cos it sounded like a shortened
version of Derek, and also b'cos he was always the most daring person I
knew. He glared at me, but he sat next to me, on the bed. I could feel his
body heat -- he was that close.
	Licking my lips again, I placed my hands on his broad, strong
shoulders. When he didn't do anything, I started kneading those firm,
muscles, unknotting the tension that was apparent through his whole
body. Derek groaned, and he lay face down on the bed, and I straddled his
lower back. His skin still felt the way I remembered it. Smooth as silk,
soft until you felt the hard muscle underneath.
	"Dare . . . . I was avoiding you, I have to admit, but not b'cos I
have someone else in my life. It's b'cos I want you to find somebody else,
somebody to love you like I never could." I felt him tensing as if about to
speak. "Dare, let me finish first, OK? You know what I feel about sex,
don't you? That isn't going to change. I love you, Dare, and I would love
to make love to you, to show you how much I love you, but maybe it's that
my principles are too strong, or maybe it's that I don't love you enough to
break them. That's why I want you to find someone else. Whatever you think,
a relationship without sex can never last -- no matter how much love we
have for one another. And, I can't force you into a frustrated relationship
where I could never show you -- physically -- how much I really love
you. In a sense, Dare, I've given my life to God." I fell silent. I didn't
know what else to say. I opened my mouth, to say something else when
Derek's warm body pressed down against me, as he wrapped his arms around
me, and started sobbing.
	I smoothed his short silky blonde hair, as he wept. I was
stunned. Derek never cried in all the time I knew him. This was the very
first time that he had ever broken down. "Do you know how many nights I
dreamt of you in my arms? Of your skin against mine? I love you, Allie, I
love you so much. Maybe, you're right -- I can't think of not touching you
if we were together. But I can't think of not being near you, either. I
want to hear your voice, to feel you against me. I would give my life up if
I could have a night lying next to you, skin against skin. Please,
Allie. Please!" he whispered to me, in a broken voice. He raised his eyes
to mine and he moved closer to me. I could feel his breath against mine,
warm and clean. And then, his lips moved against mine, a heat greater than
the heart of the sun, demanding more of me than I could give. Yet, I tried
to give as much as I could, as I yielded to that insistent kiss. When we
finally broke apart, I felt as if I had not taken a breath for an hour. I
gulped in the air to soothe my aching lungs. But my heartache would not
stop . . . .
	Derek's hands lingered on my chest, running down, under my shirt,
and I gasped as his fingers touched my skin. They felt like red-hot iron
brands, leaving a strange heat that lingered on my skin, as they moved up,
brushing against erect nipples, clutching and twisting . . . .
	"Derek, stop!" I cried, my voice hoarse with worry. He was stronger
than me. If he did not want to, I wouldn't be able to stop him . . . . But
he did. With a sigh, my Daredevil disengaged himself from me, watching as I
straightened myself, combing my hair. He hardly looked mussed, his golden
hair still as unruly as ever. His eyes regarded me for an instant, deep and
unknowable. "I liked that, Allie," he murmured in my ear.
	"Well, that's all that ever will be, OK? B'cos, Dare, I'm never
allowing myself to be touched again in that way . . . ."
	He looked at me, sad but serious. "I understand. Can we still be
friends?"
	I hugged him. "We are, Dare. We are."
	He kissed me again, a brief locking of lips but his gaze still felt
like sunlight on my skin.  "Come on. Your friend will wonder about you." He
gave me his hand, hauling me up once I took it, pushing me out the door,
and pausing only to slip on a shirt. I glanced at hi. I couldn't believe
that he was over me all that quickly. Vain, Allie, I told myself
wryly. Dare seemed to feel my eyes upon him, and he looked up, his eyes
burning with some emotion that I couldn't decipher. We walked out of that
room, silent, and once on deck, we parted. I sensed that Derek needed time
to think things through so I left him alone. Instead, I looked around for
JC.
	I saw him, then, leaning over the railing, almost balanced
precariously on it, gazing at the wide expanse of water, his hair tossed by
the wind. I walked over towards him, leaning on the railing beside him,
touching his elbow with my hand to let him know I was there. JC smiled at
me, and I felt breathless at the beauty of his smile.
	He gestured at the Sound, saying, "It's beautiful! I've never seen
such clear, blue waters before! It's wonderful!" His voice was so eager, so
enthusiastic, and so excited that I laughed. He was like a child! JC
grinned back at me.
	It was an enjoyable cruise with JC so enthralled by the sights of
the Sound, laughing and happy, cheerful. Derek overcame the reticence that
had filled him just now, and, once again, he became the Derek I had known a
few years ago. He and JC hit it off, convinced as he was that JC wasn't a
paramour; they talked of many things from cars to sports, bantering about
the yacht. I watched the two of them, withdrawing slightly so that they
could know each other a bit more. Besides, I had to think.
	I was pondering about the future. I didn't quite know if I could
really bear the thought of spending my life alone. Shon's words had
triggered something in me, and Derek's presence had only encouraged
it. From my place towards the stern of the yacht, I caught Derek glancing
at me from time to time. Somehow, I had the feeling that he hadn't quite
given up on me. It felt as if all my words had only convinced him that I
was more desirable due to my unattainability, that he would have to work
harder to capture me. Frankly, I was half frightened, and half furious, at
the idea. Yet, even these thoughts seemed to fade away, dimming down to a
maudlin feeling. I watched the dolphins cruising along with the yacht,
making their high-pitched squeaks, and wished that life would only be as
simple as the dolphins'.
	The wind was stronger, running chill fingers through my hair but
the warmth of the sun served to offset the cold. I closed my eyes, feeling
the sun hot against my face, trying not to think. But, inevitably, my
thoughts drifted towards JC. I liked him, I really did. But how deep did
simply liking go before it turned to love? I was scared that if I spent too
much time with him, I would end up falling in love -- but I couldn't endure
the idea of avoiding him as well. He was the ultimate addiction: I couldn't
do without him yet I had to.
	"What are you thinking 'bout?"
	JC's voice so startled me that I wrenched my eyes open, and nearly
fell into the water. But JC's strong hands caught me around my waist,
supporting me and steadying me. I turned to look at him.
	"Sorry," he said, an apologetic look upon his face, a hand pressed
to the back of his neck in an expression of sheepishness.
	"No, it's not your fault. I was . . . just rather startled . . ."
	"But if I hadn't -"
	"C'mon, JC, it's not your fault." I placed one hand upon his arm,
trying to soothe him.
	He shrugged. "If you say so." JC was silent for a while then he
piped up. "What were you thinking so intently about?"
	"Things," I said, deliberately being vague. He seemed to sense my
reluctance on the subject and didn't press me on it. Instead, he studied me
for a moment until I had to keep myself from squirming, before he mussed up
my hair with a smile. "Your hair's a real mess!"
	"Thanks to you!" I glowered at him, but he only grinned, crossing
his arms. I made as if to turn away but then reached up, tousling JC's hair
and dashed away, laughing aloud. JC chased after me, yelling at the top of
his lungs. I saw Dare before me, watching the two of us amusedly, and I
tackled him, send him crashing to the deck, before darting up, still
laughing, dancing away from Dare. He roared in mock anger, shouting "I'll
get you Allie!" before giving chase. With the two of them chasing after me,
I led them around, trusting my speed to keep me out of reach. I was lighter
and faster so I managed to evade them successfully. Still chuckling, I
paused by the control room, gulping for breath, and, suddenly, a tall,
blonde form pounced from the shadowy recesses of the room, shouting to
JC. I tried to get away from Dare but he tickled me mercilessly, leaving me
lying on the deck, twisting and writhing, shouting in laughter. He knew
fully well just how ticklish I was, and he used that knowledge to his
advantage, his fingers feathering over my ribs. When JC reached us, I was
quite breathless from laughing, trying to fend of Dare's hands but he was
too strong.
	"Stop, please!" I begged him in between laughs, JC standing over
us, grinning away.
	"Say, uncle!" I didn't even pause before shaking my head, and a
fresh paroxysm of laughter shook my body as JC joined in as well. Under the
onslaught of two assailants, I finally gave in, yelling "Uncle!" before
they were content to stop. I stood up wearily, wiping tears of laughter
from my eyes, and was seized by the two of them.
	I looked up at them. "Hey, what gives?" Dare grinned and motioned
to JC to answer. JC smiled wickedly at me. "You've gotta pay the piper. For
what you did, Allie, we're passing judgement." He turned to look at Derek,
mock solemnity on his face. "Guilty."
	"Guilty," Dare agreed, nodding his head.
	"What are you guys doing? Don't you dare --" I began as JC lifted
up a tube of paint, and squeezed it gently, releasing a bit of the
cerulean-pigmented mixture. "I'm warning you! Don't you DARE !!! JC!" I
shrieked as he began daubing the paint on my face. I was laughing, and
screaming, trying to escape but Dare's hands held me down easily. The paint
was a strange contrast. Cool on my skin that seemed to burn under the sun.
	My head was whirling, and spots seemed to dance before my eyes. All
I could see was JC's eyes looking into mine -- almost tenderly -- and I
found myself in the grip of some rather nebulous feeling that escaped
me. It filled my heart as I looked at him, his lips curved into a smile,
his long fingers smearing the paint all over me. I still fought Dare's
grasp, yelling away, but it was all detached as if I no longer had control
of my body, as if I was a mindless puppet manipulated by unseen hands. JC's
fingers traced my cheek, feathering over the single dimple I had in my
right cheek, down my chin, pulling the paint along. His fingers dipped
lower, over my throat, down past my collarbone, right onto my chest. He
stared at me for a moment more, and I realised that he was simply studying
the effect of the paint on me. He grinned suddenly, handed the paint to
Dare and said, "Your turn."
	I decided to just put up with it as JC took over the reins, so to
speak, holding my wrists in his hands, so warm and gentle, while Dare bent
over me, with that strange, sardonic smile that had so attracted me to
him. He knew that too, the arrogant man. He continued where JC left off,
dabbing the paint over my arms, around my neck and, then, he made a small
spot right in the middle of my forehead. "There, all done," he said,
satisfied at last. They let me up, scowling at them in mock sullenness, the
paint already dried. It was strange to walk around with dried paint on your
skin. It felt stiff -- as if plastic covered your skin -- but the paint
didn't flake or anything.
	The two of them were watching me, Cheshire-cat grins on their
faces. I shook my fist at them. "And how am I supposed to wash this off? If
I don't do it soon, it's gonna itch like hell." Dare snorted, and pointed
below deck. "Use the bathroom if you want."
	I rolled my eyes, and started down. It washed off pretty OK, at
least, though there was the faintest tinge of blue on my skin. Other than
that, nothing else was wrong. I headed up again to find JC and Dare still
chatting on. I was quite thankful actually. They would only distract me.
	What was that feeling I had experienced when I looked in JC's eyes?
It didn't feel like attraction or love, but then, it was too capricious for
me to even name it. All I knew was that something had changed when I looked
into those eyes, when he had touched me -- though, innocently -- and I
wasn't sure if I really liked the idea of the change that had occurred. I
didn't want to lose him as a friend. I wasn't fool enough to make advances
towards him but could I resist it if I was constantly near him? Could I? I
turned to look at him. He was good-looking, true, but, perhaps more
importantly, I liked him -- I genuinely liked him. He was fun to be with;
he had a great sense of humour; he was considerate, kind and rather
generous; in fact, he was all I ever wanted from any guy. But I didn't want
to lose him as a friend.
	I just stood there, looking at JC as he shared a joke with
Dare. The flash of white teeth only made my heart ache more. I glanced
around and saw we were about to reach the Marina soon, and I contented
myself by folding myself on the deck floor, just thinking. I think Dare
sensed that I wanted to be alone b'cos he deterred JC from looking for me a
few times -- something for which I thanked Dare gratefully in my
heart. When we docked -- if that's the correct word -- and Dare was waving
us off, JC looked at me quizzically, "You were rather quiet during the last
few minutes. Is something wrong?"
	I forced a smile. "No, not really. I guess I'm just tired, ya
know. Would you mind very much if I asked you to send me straight home?"
	"Sure," he shrugged.
	The drive home was even more quiet. I was upset -- and truth told,
I didn't know why. It was just a nagging sadness at what might have been
for me and Dare if things were just a little different, if things had
worked out. That and JC's proximity. The wind whistling past my ears lulled
me into a dream until I was half-awake, half-asleep. Things seemed so much
clearer with the evening fast approaching. I could hear the crickets
chirping away, a dense background of noise that was silent enough so as not
to disturb but loud enough to be noticeable. The smell of JC's cologne:
something fresh and spicy, lingering in the air like a cloud, subtle but
there. The feel of the leather against my cheek. JC's hand just an inch
away from mine. At that, I was startled back from sleep. All I had to do
was to reach out, and hold his hand, to cradle those gentle fingers against
mine. I wanted so much to do it. I wanted SO much! But even as my heart was
yelling at me to do it, to just grab his hand, my mind -- that cursed brain
of mine -- pointed out logically that as far as I knew JC wasn't gay, and
if I did try to hold his hand, it might end up in my face, knocking me
senseless. Well, maybe not the latter but it's always kinda hard to predict
what a person will do.
	I sighed. JC stirred at that sound, leaning over me and whispered,
"Allie? You awake?"
	Just smiling a little, I whispered back, "No shit!"
	He laughed. "I thought you were but I wasn't sure. I was going to
wake you but . . ." He hesitated, biting his lip -- an action that I found
remarkably endearing.
	"Go on," I motioned.
	"Well . . . . it's about the Marina with Derek. You seemed just a
little upset at the end of the ride. I mean, you isolated yourself, and you
just kept staring out into space." Eyes which had been watching the road
turned towards me, meeting mine. "What's wrong? Tell me, please."
	I considered the matter. Should I tell him? If I didn't, it would
only make him feel as if I didn't treat him like a friend, that I didn't
trust him. Yet, could I? When so much of my problems were due to him? B'cos
I knew now, surer that I ever was, that I was falling in love with JC. But
if I told him a bit, enough to make him feel OK, I need not reveal the
rest. Relieved, I frowned thoughtfully at what I could tell him. Suddenly,
I hit upon an idea.
	"Well, you see . . . ." I paused, kinda stuck. I looked at JC, and
he just gave me an encouraging nod. "It's just that I haven't seen Derek
for a long time and we parted less than amiably. Today, we resolved the
problem but it got me to thinking if similar things had ever happened
before. So, that's what I was doing -- worrying about that stuff." It
sounded so lame, so much worse that when I had thought about it but it was
a quick-shot plan.
	"Oh," JC uttered, and I was bewildered to hear disappointment in
his voice. Why would he be disappointed?
	The rest of the drive progressed on, silence filling the void of
our conversation. But, it wasn't the kind of awkward silence that seems to
materialise between strangers who've run out of things to talk
about. Rather, it was a comfortable silence between friends who are at ease
enough not to find it awkward. That struck me as peculiar in itself. I was
never much good in making friends. Yet, here I was, so comfortable with a
guy who was so beautiful that I would normally be uncomfortable by just
being with him. Instead, I was at ease, and so good friends with a guy I
had just met -- what? Three days ago? That stunned me. Three days, yet I
felt like I had known him forever. I was wrapped up in my own thoughts
until JC stopped just right at the path that led to my home.
	I grabbed my bag, stepped out, shut the door before leaning against
it to look at JC. He looked just a bit tired, and I was rather guilty. He
had spent a lot of time driving. "JC, thanks for the ride. It was really
nice of you."
	"Hey, I was the one who wanted a tour of the place. Now, I just
want some dinner and some sleep." He stretched, yawning.
	I grinned. "It's only six."
	He rolled his eyes at me, and my grin became wider.
	"Look, how about this? To thank you for your kind service as a
chauffeur, I'll make you dinner at my place with or without your usual
retinue of blonde friends and their brothers -- it's your choice. Say,
about 8:30 tonight?" I asked him with an impish grin.
	"Sure," he yawned. "Justin and Jonny won't be there,
though. They'll be having dinner with their family. His parents have just
flown in with Justin's youngest brother, and I'd hate to crash their
reunion. Wait, what's for dinner first?"
	I rolled my eyes and grimaced. "Stewed lizard and preserved slime."
	JC looked up in interest. "Really? Is that what you eat all the
time? No wonder you turned out this way," he said, looking me up and down
with a critical eye.
	"Like what?" I asked him warningly, silently laughing inside.
	"I'd rather not say," he stated huffily.
	My lips were twitching into a smile. "If you wanna know, we'll
probably be having something simple like fried chicken and mashed
potatoes. Go and get some sleep, OK? You look exhausted."
	"And whose fault is that?" JC demanded.
	I ignored him, and turned away before breaking into a huge smile,
one that I had been dying to display. I walked up the path, hearing JC's
Jeep zoom off into the distance. Well, tonight would be a good night,
perhaps. I smiled again.
	
	I swear that I really had no intention to plan a romantic dinner or
anything like that. But, somehow, the lights just seemed to bright that
night so I dimmed them. And, coincidentally, the music that I was playing
were all love songs. Yeah, right. I had to face it. I was deliberately
trying to make a move on JC so I had to undo a lot of things. I brightened
the lights, turned on the TV, changed the music, and changed into my
art-clothes: rather worn jeans, and a paint-stained white shirt, frayed
around the edges. After messing about in the kitchen, I was ready -- and I
still had about an hour or more to go before 8:30. So, I decided to do a
little painting since I was dressed for it.
	My studio is right behind my house, connected to building with a
door. My work's there, both completed, and halfway. Not many halfways,
though, b'cos I usually finished everything in one sitting. Made things so
much easier. The studio also contains all those paintings that I considered
too good to sell, and those masterpieces I kept in a little room for
itself. The rest of the area is just empty space, with a raised wooden
platform in the middle of the room for models, and various stands for
canvases all around the area. Some of the canvases were blank but a few
were half-finished and it was to one of these that I turned my attention
to.
	It was a very rough caricature of a shapeless form, staring
thoughtfully into space. I had filled in the background so that the figure
seemed to be in an archaic bedroom, draped over a chair, chin on hands,
legs akimbo. But the features were absent. I didn't know what to fill in
there but I knew what I wanted to see. The title of the painting was
"Thoughts of Love" and I wanted to see a young man's face, filled with
longing, desire, want, filled with the tender sorrow of wanting someone's
love so much. But, again, I couldn't quite picture the face. I never really
received formal training which is why I think my paintings are just a bit
better. Sometimes, the artists from the traditional art schools just get so
caught up within their hide-bound dictates of interpretation, contrast,
quality, lighting, and the many techniques of bringing art to life, that I
think they have forgotten how to really paint. To paint, you let your soul
run free, to let imagination flow through your brush and shape the images
that you want. Sometimes, I make a rough sketch of an image, and I paint
over it -- usually for landscapes and still-life but for portraits, I don't
use any sketches at all. I simply paint.
	As I stood there, brush in one hand, hair pulled back, I saw a face
in that blankness, a face I knew so well that I could paint it from
heart. I started with the eyes, blue and warm, filled with joy and warmth,
tinged with the slightest trace of emerald; eyes that seemed to yearn for
companionship, that promised love beyond belief, eyes that said "I love
you". The features, that straight, strong nose, the sensuous lips poised to
speak -- and I imagined that voice, sweet and melodious, humming from
within -- and the stubborn chin: all filled my heart with an aching emotion
that threatened to make me weep. In the end, when I was done, JC's face
stared out at me, thoughtful and pensive, the slightest hint of a smile on
his face.
	Trembling, both inside and out, I raised a finger to touch the dry
canvas, to trace those sweet lips, to try in some undefinable manner and
imagine that I was really touching him in that way. I blinked as the world
seemed to blur before my eyes, and was both surprised and horrified when
tears seeped from my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. Oh, God! Why him, why
him? And, why, oh, why now?
	This couldn't be happening -- it couldn't! I was trapped, and I
knew it. I couldn't run from this b'cos I knew that it would simply catch
up with me; I couldn't deny it -- not when I knew it was certainty that
filled me, filled me with that knowledge. What was I to do? Should I turn
away from him? Should I just avoid him? If I did, my heart would break even
more than Dare's had when I did that to him. Oh Lord, just help me!
	I moved on to the other blank canvases then, simply painting,
closing my eyes and letting my heart guide me. Ten canvases in less than 45
minutes -- and each was filled with JC. In some, he laughed, teeth flashing
in the sunlight, eyes dancing in merriment; in others, he wore a quiet
smile, sedate but so sweet, hands clasped at his side. Each one bore my
heart, each one carried my soul. I felt so empty when I finished, my hands
streaked with paint, smudges on my face, so damned empty -- but when I
looked at his face, whether he smiled or laughed or grinned, I was filled
with that same feeling. With love.
	I sank to my knees, my heart aching even worse than it ever
had. Oh, God, this was so much worse than Justin! It HURT! It HURT! But, I
didn't want to give it up -- not that feeling that made me feel so alive,
so wanted, so loved. I cried then, tears staining my cheeks, sobbing and
rocking on the wooden floor, just thinking about nothing at all. I wept for
a reason I didn't understand. And then, the bell rang.
	I knew who it was, and that made it all the harder to bear. How
could I face him after crying my eyes out b'cos I couldn't have him? Should
I? I walked out of the studio, closing it firmly behind me, wiping away my
tears. I stopped briefly in front of the mirror to check my appearance --
slightly blood-shot eyes but otherwise, I looked fine. I took a deep breath
before walking to the door, and pulling it open.
	"Hi!" JC said cheerily. He looked so wonderful in a crimson silk
shirt tucked inside dark slacks, a black leather jacket slung over his
shoulders. The blood-hue of his shirt only seemed to accentuate his natural
fairness. He was stunningly gorgeous.
	My heart was beating faster -- partly from him, and partly b'cos I
could never deny what I felt for him now. "Hi! Come right in!" I said, a
bit forced with cheerfulness. He looked at me, and his smile faded,
replaced with concern. "What's wrong, Allie? You've been crying. What
happened?" he asked, voice low and gentle, as if trying to shield what
dignity I had left. "Did something bad happen --"
	"No!" I said, shaking my head, then realised I had been a bit too
vehement at my reply. "No, it was just --" I took a deep breath and
continued. "If you must know, I was watching this show on TV and I just
started crying. It was a soap but then I'm quite a wuss."
	JC grinned. "I'll say!" I looked at him indignantly. "No, just
kidding! That's happened before to me!"
	Oh? That rather intrigued me that he would be so
sensitive. "Really? When?"
	He looked about, and in a hushed whisper, said, "When I was
watching the MTV Awards."
	I looked at him quizzically. "Why?"
	Sighing exaggeratedly, he explained, "B'cos I thought it was tragic
we didn't win Best New Group of the Year!"
	I laughed at that. "You jerk!"
	He smiled. "When's dinner?"
	"You're just in time." I looked him up and down, and he followed my
glance.
	"What?"
	"Don't you think you're a little overdressed?"
	He looked at himself again. Grinning sheepishly, he placed his hand
behind his head. "I guess you're right."
	Laughing, I led him to the table, and brought out dinner. It was
fairly fun. We were too busy eating to talk much, though we exchanged a few
jokes. Halfway, he spilled some of the Coke I got him on his shirt, and he
jumped up, cursing under his breath. I couldn't help it -- I laughed and
laughed as he squeaked on about his shirt getting wet. He glared at me but
I only laughed harder. Scowling, he asked, "Could I change or something?"
	Wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, I said, "Sure! Come along."
	Taking his wrist, I pulled him along up the stairs to my bedroom,
and then, I thought about what I was REALLY doing at that moment. I was
taking him, someone I really liked, to my bedroom. Somehow, that felt
incredibly uncomfortable; as if I was taking him into the most personal
part of me. I glanced around to see how he was doing, and quickly turned
back when I realised he had stripped off his shirt. His wrist felt like it
was burning as I flushed, thankful that it was rather dim in my room as I
guided him in. The barest glimpse I caught of his chest was enough to send
my pulse racing, the blood suffusing my cheeks. Silently, I opened my
closet, checking for a spare shirt, and finally handed him a denim blue
shirt -- which I belatedly realised was actually one of Derek's. I averted
my glance as I handed it to him, instead, studying my toes. The next time I
glanced up, I found him fully dressed, staring at me in amusement. "You
always this shy?" His voice -- in MY bedroom -- felt so seductive to my
ears. I shivered, and rubbed my arms. "Can we go down now?" I asked him
plaintively. He shrugged, and I turned to go.
	Halfway, down the stairs, JC grabbed my arm, and said, "Allie, if
you're done with dinner, can I see your studio -- or wherever you paint?" I
bit my lip. "Sure!" He grinned in reply.
	It took awhile to clear the stuff up, sticking leftovers in the
fringe, before I led him to my studio. When he entered, he looked
surprised, and I showed him all the paintings I was so proud of. The
enigmatic lady clad in white whom I called "Alyssa"; the landscape I had
done of Lake Tekapo during a sunset that I had called "Sunset on the Lake";
the blooming garden filled with flowers that I had dubbed "Eden"; and,
perhaps, my favourite, "Lady of the Woods", a piece that depicted a
snowy-white mare at the edge of a forest, head held high, mane blowing in
the wind, with the barest hint of a spiral horn on its brow. He was quite
impressed, I thought, and I was thankful that the paintings I had done of
him were turned away so he couldn't see.
	Just as I was studying one of the paintings, "Ophelia", showing a
half-submerged girl clad in blue, I heard a half-strangled, half-whispered,
"Allie!" I turned around, and saw JC staring at THOSE paintings, a look of
surprise on his face. His eyes flickered to one nearby, and another, and
another, until he must have seen all the eleven I had done. I groaned, my
heart despairing. I walked towards him, and his eyes lifted to mine, a look
of alarm and shock that pierced my heart. I paused at that look, my heart
aching even more -- God, when will it stop? -- and as I started forward, JC
babbled, "S-sorry, g-g-gotta go, OK ... See you s-soon or .. whatever!",
and he ran out of there. I let him go, and hearing the front door slam
shut, I slumped onto a nearby stool.
	I felt dead inside. Dead. I looked up, my vision blurring. Crying!
Again! "Are You happy now? Are YOU?" I shrieked at the last words, before
fading off into sobs. I covered my eyes with my hands. Why? OH, GOD, WHY
are You doing this to ME?

	The next few days were the worst in my life. I couldn't rouse
myself from my bed, often crying as I thought about him. Shon tried to get
me up but after a while, she gave up in disgust. I was moping, I knew, but
I felt so dead, like I couldn't live anymore. I couldn't eat, and I cried
myself to sleep, waking up in the middle of the night, my pillow soaked
with tears, murmuring his name. I tried calling him, but then I realised
that I didn't have his number. It was torment for me in those five days. It
was hell.
	On the fifth night, as I stared at the moon outside, the phone
began ringing. I was half-tempted to let it ring on but I walked over and
picked it up. "Hello?" God, even my voice sounded dead.
	"Allie?" My heart leaped at that voice. It was HIM! Oh, thank You,
thank You, God!
	"JC? Just listen to me, OK? Those paintings --"
	"Allie? Just listen first. I want to talk to you -- personally. Do
you mind if I come over right now?"
	Mystified, but hopeful -- Could it be that he's forgiven me? --
that this was a good sigh, I managed to utter a "Sure!" before he hung
up. Dazed, I hung up as well. What could this mean? Perhaps . . . Oh,
please, don't fool yourself! I ran into the bathroom, too aware of how I
looked, shaving the little bit of downy tufts that five days of neglect had
resulted in, before changing after a quick shower. Hair still wet, I pulled
on a sweater over my T-shirt, that read "Save the Whales!", before giving
my hair a quick brush and running downstairs. Just in time, too, as the
doorbell rang. I breathed in, walked over, and calmly opened the door. I
always seemed to be opening doors for him. JC gave me a hesitant grin and
walked in before shyly saying, "Hi."
	I managed a "hi", too, as I looked him up and down. He looked as if
he had just jumped in from a shower, too, his hair slightly damp, the top
three buttons of his shirt undone. He was staring at me, too, and I shut
the door and motioned for him to take a seat. He gestured for me to sit
first, and I did so, wondering, when he sat right next to me.
	Pulling his fingers through his hair, he began, "Allie, about
Sunday, I have to apologise. I was acting like a jerk and I knew it -- but
I was just taken by surprise." He looked me in the eye. "I hope you can
forgive me for being such an ass."
	I bit my lip. "It was my fault. I should have come clean with you
-- I'm sorry I didn't.  Can you forgive me, instead?" I looked at him. He
grinned, and I was encouraged by that familiar trademark of his.
	"How's this? If you forgive me, I forgive you."
	"Done!" I said, and we both shook hands.
	I looked at him for a moment, and then quietly said, "Does this
change anything between us? Does it?"
	He seemed to withdraw inside himself for a moment, and then he
looked up at me. JC moved closer to me, so close that our thighs touched,
and I shivered. This was becoming just a bit too intimate. When he spoke,
his voice was serious, devoid of all the mischief that usually tinged his
tone. "Allie, I have to confess something to you."
	My heart soared at that prospect and sank as well. Was he trying to
tell me what I think he was?
	"I tried to understand what filled my heart every time I looked at
you, and on Sunday, I finally found out." He looked straight into my eyes,
holding me motionless. "It was love." I noticed, then, he was holding my
hands in his warm grip, stroking my palm gently, his voice lower, almost
hushed. "I never -- NEVER -- felt this way before . . . not for any girl,
and definitely not for any guy. But, I know that I love you. Why? I don't
really know and I don't really care." I trembled, and he felt it. He leaned
towards me, whispering, "I love YOU, Allie" and his lips pressed against
mine, caressing mine with a gentleness that was unbearable. My heart raced
-- with desire, with love, with fear. I was scared. And my trembling
increased.
	His lips parted from mine, and I almost begged for him not to, but
another part of me was thankful. "Why are you so frightened, Allie? Why?"
he murmured, his lips trailing down my chin. My eyes welled again with
tears -- I was disgusted with myself in a tiny corner of my mind -- and
they fell. JC looked up. "What is it, Allie? Have I done something wrong? I
didn't mean to --"
	Blinking my tears away, I smiled. "No," I whispered, "No, it isn't
you. It's me. You scare me so much."
	He blinked, and I saw his eyes glisten in the darkness. "Why? Why
do I frighten you so much? Tell me," he murmured huskily.
	"The love I feel in you, for you -- that's what scares me so
much. I would do anything --ANYTHING -- for you! Anything, just as long as
you're happy. That frightens me, JC! That frightens me like hell!" I told
him, my voice catching and breaking several times.
	"Oh, Allie," he began, and was silenced as I pulled him towards me,
pushing his lips onto mine. We spent what seemed a lifetime in that
embrace, just holding one another, kissing sometimes, and doing what lovers
do. When the radio played "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes", JC pulled me up, and
we began dancing, just swaying along to the music. Maybe, that's what
people like us really want -- maybe, as guys, we're just so tired of being
the macho guys, of being invulnerable, that forces us to develop love like
this. Maybe, we just needed to be intimate with someone much like
ourselves, I mused as JC murmured sweet platitudes in my ear. And then, the
song changed to Shania Twain's "Your Way".
	I sang it, sang for JC, meaning every word I spoke.
	"You've got a way with me
	Somehow you got me to believe
	In everything that I could be
	I gotta say
	You really got a way . . .
	You've got a way, it seems
	You gave me faith to find my dreams
	You never know just what that means
	Can't you see
	The way you get thru to me . . . . "
	JC's eyes seemed to glisten suspiciously, and I suspected that he
was crying. I wasn't one to talk with tears seeping from my eyes. I just
shut up, then, listening, my head on JC's shoulder, both of us silent. But
then, we didn't need to speak. Just holding each other.
	When we sat down, JC just stared at me, smiling tenderly, and I
squeezed his hand gently. He squeezed back in reply, his smile becoming
wider. But, I had something to talk to him about.
	"JC . . ." I said, and began again, clearing my throat. "JC, I want
to talk about the future." I looked up at him, my head tilted up from its
original position on his shoulder. I could feel his chest, firm and
muscled, beneath my back, a sensation that was distinctly erotic and, yet,
so intimately personal.
	"What about the future?" He kissed my ear, his hand stroking mine
gently.
	"Like, how are we going to be together? You'll be back in the
States, and you have your group -- what about them? Do you think they'll
accept us? How about your fans? If they found out about me, they'll just
desert you!" I blurted.
	He pressed his cheek against mine, his lips close to my
ear. "Allie, I love you. It's as simple as that. We'll worry about all
those problems when we come to it."
	I bit my lip again. I wasn't reassured by that. He wasn't worried
but I was. JC loved to perform, and if he lost his chance . . . . And,
there was that thing about celibacy. Except that I was more tempted than
ever to throw it into the winds, to lie with him. Maybe, thinking about sex
was a bit immature, but that was perhaps the greatest evidence of love, the
most concrete way to tell someone you love them. And if you loved somebody
enough, wouldn't you throw away all your principles just to be with them?
All I knew was that I loved him -- and that he loved me.
	We stayed there for a few hours, just holding and kissing. It was a
way to show each other how much love existed. JC kissed me goodbye around
midnight, and as that kiss lingered on my lips with the taste of his lips,
I began pondering about everything. I loved JC and he loved me. But his
whole support base in fans were mostly made up of girls, and if they found
out he loved another guy, they would dump him. And if that happened, JC
would be crushed. No, it was too much to ask him to do for me, I
decided. My heart HURT with what I knew I had to do. Oh, Lord, please give
me the strength. and, JC, please forgive me.

	I was nervous, and despairing. I was waiting by the far side of the
lake, under a tree where I had arranged to meet JC. The sun was out,
gleaming bright, casting warm beams on my face. It was exactly the wrong
weather for what was about to happen. JC was about to show up any moment
now, and I would have to break his heart. But the hurt that hurts the
fastest is better than the one that hurts twice as long. Perhaps, I was
selfish but I had to do what I had to do. For JC to be happy.
	"Hello, Allie," JC said, and kissed me. I tried not to respond but
I did, partially, and finally stopped. He parted, looking at me
strangely. "What was that for?" He ran his fingers through his hair, and my
heart spasmed in pain, as I remembered how I had run my fingers through his
hair so many times after that first night. The week that had passed by just
seemed to be the blink of an eye. All those memories. Shon had been
delighted, of course, but I was aware of this day as an end to all those
good times. I turned back from my reverie, looked into those eyes,
remembering how happy I had been. There had been love -- both emotional and
physical, though, the latter really meant, hugging and kissing, and
stroking, and caressing -- but I wondered if it would now turn to hate for
him.
	"JC, we have to talk." I looked at him.
	He looked troubled as he sank to the ground, sitting
cross-legged. "Uh-oh. What's wrong?"
	I hated what I was about to do. "Remember what I told you about
Derek?" He nodded, remembering what I had said when I had come clean about
Dare. I took a deep breath. "Well, I didn't tell you the whole truth. You
see, Dare and I did have sex together, but he was concerned that it was all
I wanted from him. So. we broke up."
	JC had a pained look on his face. I wanted to comfort him but
. . . Taking a deep breath, JC harshly asked, "Was it?"
	"Of course," I answered glibly. A look of hurt flashed across JC's
face. God, I can't do this! But, I must! "Well, Dare says that he's OK with
the idea now, and I want to go back to him. I mean, he's fantastic in bed,
and, frankly, while I was hoping that you would be an adequate replacement,
just getting you to screw me is taking forever. So, I'm going back to him
which mean that I want to break up."
	I couldn't look at JC. He seemed torn between betrayal and the love
that he bore for me. Licking his lips, he said, "Allie, please . . . . if
you want me to, we can do it right here. Please just don't leave me
. . . ."
	I was weeping in my heart at that. God, this HURTS!! OH, JC, if you
only knew . . . . I looked at him, an expression of scorn on my face. "No
thank you. I don't think you'd quite measure up." JC looked defeated at
that but his face hardened, and when he replied, his voice was biting and
bitter. "It looks like I was wrong about you, Allie. I thought you loved
me. Instead, you loved only . . . " he choked at that last bit, and he
turned away, running back from where he came.
	I turned my back, praying that he wouldn't look back, as I wept so
hard. I gasped for air, my heart filled with pain. He thought I had
BETRAYED him! Oh, God, I hate You for doing this to me and, especially, to
JC! Oh, God, God, God . . . . I wept for so long until my tears dried. But,
inside, I had died. I just couldn't feel anything anymore. Dazed, I
staggered up the hill, falling and cutting myself on the sharp rocks,
rising again, heading for my home where death awaited me. I couldn't live
like this, I couldn't live with myself after what I had done. JC, just
forgive me.
	I stumbled into my home, dashing straight into the kitchen. I had
planned everything except for this last bit. I thought I could live with
what I had done but JC's face as he left had killed me inside. I turned on
the stereo, and walked over to the cabinet where I kept all my
knives. Perhaps, I would be damned for doing this but better an eternity of
damnation than even one day living with the fact that I had hurt JC so
badly. I was already in my hell. I picked up one long-bladed knife, one
which I knew was sharp beyond belief. I braced myself, lifting it, posing
the blade against my left wrist, and with one quick, hard movement, I
pulled the edge along my wrist, cutting so deep. The pain that assailed me
caused me to drop my knife but it was nothing compared to what I had
felt. Oh, JC, JC . . . . perhaps, in time you will forget me. I had a dim
recollection of dropping onto the tiled kitchen floor, and I was surprised
at the pool of blood that had already appeared. It looked so red, and there
was so much of it. I couldn't quite believe it. The pain had already faded
into a strange numbness, as if I was losing all feeling in my arm. As I lay
there, I heard Mary Chapin Carpenter softly singing over the radio. It was
a suitable song.
	"What do you get when you fall in love
	A guy with a pin to burts your bubble
	That's what you get for all your troubles
	I'll never fall in love again . . .
	Oh, what do you get when you kiss a guy
	You get love germs to catch pneumonia
	And after you do, he'll never phone ya
	I'll never fall in love again . . ."
	Maybe, JC, you'll be glad that I've left you. You should. I'm
nothing but trouble.
	"Don't tell me what it's all about
	I've been there and I'm glad I'm out
	Out of those chains, the chains that bind you
	And that is why, I'm here to remind you . . . .
	I'll never fall in love again
	I'll never fall in love again . . . ."
	Suddenly, dimly, I heard the front door open, and Shon's voice rang
out. "Allie, I just ran into JC, and he told me the strangest story -- OH
MY GOD!! Allie, you fool, what did you do? Why? Oh, God, oh GOD!!" She
sounded hysterical and I was going to tell her that when I fell into a dark
hole that swallowed me up, and I knew no more.

	I groaned at the light. And realised, there was none. Someone
stirred at that sound.  "Allie?" It was a voice that made my eyes fill with
tears.
	"Why, why did you let me live? Why didn't you just let me die?"
	JC's face came into view, haggard, and drawn, but, God, so
beautiful, his eyes warm with concern and tenderness, and, I was shocked to
see, love. He touched my face with his fingers, and I welcomed it,
accepting that warm touch.
	"Why did you try to fool me? Dare told me the truth, that he and
you never . . . and that you never made any proposition to him. Why? Am I
so distasteful that you had to suicide in order to be away from me?" His
voice was tinged with self-loathing and I hurried to intervene, to explain.
	"No! It wasn't you, it was me. I wanted you to be rid off me b'cos
I would only drag you down." He kept silent and I plunged on,
frantically. "You must believe me! If anyone ever found out about you and
me, they could blackmail you, or if your fans found out, they'll hate you!
And, then, how could I live with myself. That one week I gave us so that
we'd have the memories, and I broke up so that you'd be free. Only," and my
voice sank to a whisper, "only, I hated myself for how much I couldn't live
with myself -- " I broke off with a choke as my emotions overcame me,
clutching at his fingers, murmuring, "You have to believe me . . . ."
	JC was silent, and I was crushed. He hated me, I knew it, I knew
it, and I was about to close my eyes and turn away when JC kissed me
lightly. "Oh, I believe you," JC whisper-ed to me. "But you had no right to
choose for me, Allie Wu!" His voice was tinged with anger, and I blinked in
surprise. I had never seen JC angry before, not once in the short -- and
long -- time I had known him. I was incredulous. "I choose for myself. I'm
an adult, Allie, and I don't need anyone to make my decisions for me. If I
want to love you, then I shall, and nobody can stop me!" He looked at me,
anger apparent in every line of his face.
	"JC, I'm sorry." I looked at him. He relaxed slightly and I pressed
on, stroking his hand gently, trying to show him how much I really loved
him, how much I really cared. I stared at my left wrist for a moment. It
was bound up in gauze, and looked to be OK, but as I flexed it, a sudden
pain flared through my wrist. I ignored it. "I never did think properly
when my emotions were concerned but all I wanted was the best for
you. That's all -- for you to be as happy as you can ever be!"
	JC stared into my eyes, and smiled suddenly, tenderly. "You are the
best for me, Allie, and you make me happy, happier than I've ever been
before."
	I was filled with love, filled with joy. He still loved me. I
raised his hand to my face and kissed his palm gently, flicking my tongue
over it. He laughed, and kissed me, before murmuring, "You better not do
that. Everybody can see you."
	Belatedly, I looked around. To my right was a window, and I could
see Shon, Jeff, Dare, Justin, and Jonny staring at the two of us, and
grinning. I flushed with embarrassment. JC looked at me and laughed
again. "If you want to know, the guys are fine with this and they really
want to meet you. I think you'll like them."
	I turned my eyes back to him. "You mean that you're . . . ."
	JC grinned. "I'll still be doing shows in the States, and
everything, but I'll be living here. I'm applying for citizenship
here. When I'm on tour, you can always come along or stay here. Either way,
I know that I'll have you close to me."
	I smiled back at him. "But what about the future?"
	JC shrugged. "What about it?" For a moment, I only sputtered in
outrage and indignation but before I could speak, JC sighed and told me,
gently and tenderly, " No one can look into the future, Allie -- except
God, of course -- but I know that I want to be with you for the rest of my
life. I don't care what everyone else thinks, and we might be forced to
keep it a secret but I want you to know that after you, nothing else is
important to me -- not anymore. Not my career, not my friends, too, if they
can't understand how much I really love you, and how I really am. If they
can't deal with that, then perhaps it's better for all of us if I got
better friends. But luckily," he said with a sigh, "all they guys can
accept it. They are my truest friends."
	I patted his cheek and that was the signal for the others to file
in. Jonny was happy to see me, though Justin had to stop him from bouncing
on the bed. Justin looked at me for a moment, not doing anything, then bent
close to whisper by my ear, "Congrats to the two of you. Just love him,
Allie, as much as you can." Shon winked incessantly at me until Jonny asked
if there was something wrong with her eye at which I laughed aloud. Jeff
just wished me good luck, and cautioned me not to do anything foolish
anymore. It was Dare whom I rather dreaded. How would he feel to know that
I had accepted another? He stared at me with those brilliant blue eyes
while JC teased Jonny and the others looked on.
	Dare sat by my side and looked at me. I looked back and he
smiled. "So, you found love at last."
	"Dare, I --" I began but was cut off by Dare as he said, "Don't
bother, Allie. I can see how much you love him, and, truth told, I think
he's better for you -- much better than I could ever be. Just love him, OK?
And forget that bullshit about your principles. Love him with all that you
have."
	He grinned wryly. "We might have something together but I think I'm
quite over you. There is this other guy I have seen. Do you know him? His
name's Benj . . . "
	I gasped. I knew Benj! Hmmm . . . "Yeah, I know him, and you're
damned accurate. In fact, I happen to know that he's just broke off with a
long-time paramour. He's quite a bit lonely, you know, and, well, maybe you
could cheer him up." He laughed and kissed me on the cheek. And from the
corner of my eye, I noticed JC staring at Dare, turning his gaze from Shon
to Dare, and again. I smiled. He was jealous!
	When they were all gone, JC sat by my side after lowering the
blinds, and locking the door. "Well, how is everything now?" he asked me, a
grin on his face.
	"Settled," I said contentedly. I stretched, and JC grabbed my
wrists, gently with my left, and pushed them to my side as he straddled
me. He kissed me, roughly, pressuring my lips with his, seductive and
gentle at the same time. His fingers unbuttoned the white hospital clothing
I wore, and I could only gasp, "What are you doing?"
	He glanced at me. "I'm making sure that I really own you now. By
the way, I'm quite like you in terms of experience. Tell me if I do
anything wrong."
	"Are you crazy?" I demanded. I was a little surprised at that last
bit of information -- happy that I was his first as he would be mine.
	"Only about you."
	JC pulled off his shirt and began tugging at his belt. "Besides,
I'm always curious as to what it would be like doing it on these beds."
	I didn't reply. Neither did. We didn't need any words to prove our
love or to show it.