Numb. That's how she wanted to feel. But you can't always have what you want.

It had been an incredibly busy night at Genuine. Lilia couldn't remember when they've been that busy. And the non-stop work helped her to push her misery to the back of her mind, to help her forget the aching, the longing for him.

She stumbled into her apartment at four a.m., completely exhausted. But sleep would not come to her. After tossing and turning for an hour, she gave up and sat in her rocking chair by the window

She gazed out at the sky. She couldn't see the stars, the city lights were to bright, even at the late hour. A fresh breeze wafted through the window and she breathed it deeply and began her endless battle not to think about him.

Nick, where are you tonight? What are you thinking about? Are you looking out your window and thinking about me, too? she wondered, giving in finally and let him enter her thoughts. She missed him, everything about him. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his touch. It was overwhelming her. Eyes watering, she fought to push down her memories, her thoughts.

"What right do I have to miss him? What right do I have to think about him all the time? I left him! My choice, now I have to live with it," she said aloud, to no one but for her own benefit. Speaking out loud gave substance to her words, made them real and unavoidable. It helped convince her that she was right.

Reaching out, she touched the cool glass of her window and prayed for sleep to come, to help her forget.

* * * *

Sleeping helped. When he could sleep, that is. He couldn't feel the emptiness when he slept. But Nick's challenge was waking up. Every morning, to realise all over again that he was all alone, that he didn't know any more than the day before what he had done to push her away.

He checked the clock. It was four in the morning. Night was beginning to fade away, and it would soon be morning, time for him to face the world again. He would have to hide behind his exterior, cheeriness, never betraying to his friends, his fans, everyone around him, that he was living through hell.

He knew that he couldn't sleep anymore. It would be impossible to sleep now that she was on his mind. Sitting up in bed, he reached to the nightstand beside him and picked up the tape recorder. He pressed the rewind button and waited for it to finish, then pressed play.

Just once. One day I wouldn't be so decidedly against it. Just for you. Her voice was distorted by slight static present on the tape and the quality wasn't that great, but it was hers. He listened to her beautiful voice singing to him, just for him, and he closed his eyes and tried to picture her recording it.

When the night has been to lonely,
And the road has been to long, the familiar words rang out, filling the silence. He relaxed, and lay back down, his hand holding tightly to the small, hard plastic tape player, as if he could touch her through it.

* * * *

"And they are in town today! Everyone's favourite Boys are in Toronto for 3 shows!" the radio droned on for the thousandth time that morning. Sighing, Lilia walked over to it and was about to shut it off when something the DJ said stopped her.

"And we have 'em live you later today! You heard me, they'll be here for an hour long interview," it continued. She snapped it off.

Everywhere she turned, the Boys were there, a constant reminder of what she had lost. His face, his Backstreet personality, was everywhere, mocking her.

Reminding me what I gave up, a little voice inside her objected.

In the silence, she could hear a familiar song playing in the storage room. She could hear his voice, loud and clear. She dropped the glass she had been carrying. As the glass shattered, she remembered watching him perform that very song, the first time she had ever laid eyes on him.

As soon as it had begun, the memory faded as the music died down and Anna came running in to see what had happened.

"Anna, please. How many times have I told you not to play that CD, under any circumstances, in this building!" Lilia yelled, her voice shaking as her eyes misted over slightly. Anna knew that her boss had something against the Boys, but she could never quite place it.

"Sorry," Anna mumbled as she turned around and when in search of a mop and broom for the glass.

Lilia sat down, she was shaking terribly. Well, damn him, she thought. I hear a song I've heard thousands of times and his voice still affects me. When will I be free of him?

* * * *

The place was jumping. Lilia was behind the counter, filling orders as fast as she could, when a familiar voice caught her attention.

"A shot of Quetila please." She spun around and beamed as she recognised the voice.

"The one bloody time I get trashed and nobody will let me forget it. Remind me to castrate AJ for telling everyone," she exclaimed, refreshed by the sight of her almost-brother.

"Baby, you're a sight for sore eyes," Paul said, leaning over the counter to hug her unsuccessfully.

"What are you waiting for Paul? Get your ass back here and help me!" she demanded. Grinning, Paul went around the counter to join Lilia, mixing and serving.

* * * *

He crept in incognito, keeping as low a profile as possible, which was easy, given the crowded club. People were everywhere and it was dark.

He found an isolated table in a corner and sat down, contemplating running back out the door. He surveyed the area, his first glimpse of Lilia's pride and joy. She had described it so many times to him, and her description had not done the place justice.

He looked towards the counter, and his heart nearly stopped. She was there. A vision of beauty, her face so familiar, but it seemed different. His heart nearly burst as he watched her smiling and laughing face as she talked to her customers, and the man behind the bar with her. She seemed perfectly happy, like nothing had happened.

Pain at the thought of all his time spent in misery when she was obviously happy clouded his vision and he couldn't see what Paul could.

Paul could tell that her cheery exterior was a complete opposite of what she was feeling. The telltale circles and pale complexion, dramatic weight loss, weren't the only clues that he needed.

Her light, her joy, that used to follow her wherever she went when she was happy, was gone. Completely obliterated by her sorrow. When she smiled, her luminescent green stayed dark, dull. Not lit with laughter the way he was to seeing.

But all Nick could see was what she was trying to desperately convey. Her façade, her lie, her shell. And he felt like a complete fool. How could I possibly thought that she felt the same way? That she might actually miss me, he thought miserably. Taking one glance at the face he loved and missed so much, he walked regretfully out the door.

Lilia stopped suddenly. She looked around the room, trying to discover what it was that disturbing her, but she felt something and couldn't see it. There was something there, a familiar crackle, a sensation she had only known when Nick was in the same room as her. She searched the crowd vainly, trying to find him, acting on instinct, not really knowing that that was what she was doing. She was in a panic, but after a few minutes, just gave up. He wasn't there. Sighing in relief, and perhaps disappointment.

Get a grip Lilia, you've only seen his face on forty different people this week. After what you did to him, he would not come near you. It wasn't him, it wasn't him, she repeated over and over again in her mind, until she believed it.

Paul hadn't noticed her temporary lapse of attention and continued talking. Lilia took one last hopeful glance at the door, then dejectedly continued her job.