I headed down the street to the Gallery where I worked. People milled about and some stood on street corners preaching about how society had taken a turn, we'd all burn in hell for our sins. I just kept walking, none of those crazy babbling men knew what they were talking about; the world was not going to end in such amount of days, Jesus was not coming back any time in the near future, and sex was not the devil's doing.

Eric was a die hard Christian. Whenever he'd walk with me down the streets, he'd always take whatever pamphlet they'd hand out, or he'd give them five dollars. Sure, I'd empty out my change pocket, but that was only because I was hoping they'd get off the streets, not because I actually believed a word they said. I pulled the list out of the planner, I wondered what it said about religion.

Item #4: Has a religion, but he's not too fixed on it and he's willing to except that you don't believe in Jesus.

Baelee hit that one right on the head. Eric was always trying to wake me up on Sunday mornings to get me to go to Church with him. I'd roll over and tell him I'd sooner burn in hell that wake up that early. Hell exists, but not the way the Bible puts it---hey, they're just my beliefs.

I walked into the gallery, white walls, art deco paintings, that was Heaven. I plodded into the back room to set my things down and get ready to walk around. That was my job, walk around. I'd usually monitor the sections with the photography, since that's where my work was.

"Jace, Jace, Jace! You look great today, honey!" It was Gaylord. Yes, that's his name, Gaylord. I met him in college, but his name was John back then. In high school he got teased a lot because his name was Gaylord, so he changed it to John, but sometime in college he figured out he was gay and decided he'd change it back to Gaylord. He's a great guy and it he wasn't gay, I'd marry him.

"Thanks, G." I smiled and gave him a hug. "Hey Heather," I said. The girl with the square glasses looked up at me and mumbled something of a greeting. She was one of those "artier than thou" types. Speaking of the second coming, she swore she was...the second coming of some great artist. She babbled a lot. I often wondered if she was related to anyone on the street.

I set my things down, but pulled my list out and kept it in the back pocket of my skirt. Gaylord never hesitated to go through my things for anything he needed, a pen, paper, change and a tampon would not detour this boy.

I walked out into the gallery and started to walk around. I saw the pieces everyday, but I still loved to just look at them. I starred at one of the huge pieces on the wall, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, not knowing who's pale face it was that looked back at mine.

He looked like a normal SoHo native. Pierced lip, nose, ears, tattoos, and black clothes. He was just another face in the crowd here in SoHo, but I had the feeling he wasn't from around here. He didn't have the confidence that was needed to have grown up in Manhattan or the I-could-give-a-shit attitude of SoHo, so I guessed he was probably out of state. He looked familiar, though.

"You're Jace, right?" He asked. I nodded silently, still trying to figure out who this face belonged to. "You probably don't remember me, I'm Billy Martin, Eric is producing our new album..."

It clicked. He was in Good Charlotte. "Oh, no, I remember you!" I smiled, out of the corner of my eye I could see Gaylord standing in the entry way of another gallery looking on at us. I'd tell him later that I didn't think Billy was 'his type' meaning...straight. "What can I do for you?"

Billy wasn't as pale as his band mates. He was skinner than his band mates and taller as well. It all came back, he was the other guitarist. "Eric told me to come down and get the pictures from you that you took of the band. I hope he called you, he said he did...but..."

I shook my head, "No, he didn't." I smiled. There was something so offbeat about this kid that was so sexy. "I think I have them in the back room, stay here, I'll be right back."

I walked into the back room and over to my desk. I had planned on running the manila envelope full of pictures over to him later on today so I could see him. I hadn't seen him in awhile. He came home after I went to sleep last night, I caught a glimpse of him when he kissed my forehead this morning before he went to work.

I grabbed the pictures and turned around to head out the door, but there was Gaylord. "Who's the kid?" He asked. He didn't seem interested in getting his number, which was odd.

"Oh, he's working with Eric, I guess he was sent down to pick these up." I held the folder up in front of Gaylord's face and started towards the door.

"He looks like your type."

I turned around and saw him sitting in my chair, going through my purse. "What does that mean? I'm engaged, you know." I held up my hand, sporting my diamond ring. I wasn't big on glitzy jewelry, but hey it's an engagement ring, what are you going to do?

"I know you're engaged, Jacey, honey. I just think he looks more your type than Eric. More your age at least." This was true. Eric was about five years older than I was. I decided Billy couldn't be more than two years younger than myself.

I rolled my eyes and walked out and back into the gallery. Billy was standing in front of one of my pictures. I still blushed when people looked at my work, especially this one for some reason. It was a picture of my little sister, Caroline. Well, little half sister. My parents divorced and my dad remarried some girl who was just ten or so years older than me. They had little Caroline who I just fell in love with. I hoped I wouldn't have to explain the picture. I hoped he didn't even notice it was mine. I mean, out of all the photos in the gallery, in the room...he choose mine.

I walked up and stood next to him, I tried to be good at not disturbing observers, even if I had something to give to an observer. He looked over at me, "Sorry I took so long," I said.

"This is really good," Billy said. He sounded genuine. "It's yours, right?" I nodded, he nodded back. I handed him the folder, our hands brushed against each other's, I got a rush. One of those rushes you get back in high school when the against-all-odds crush looks your way or something.

I remembered another trait on the list.

Item #23: Likes your photos, tells you he does, and he means it.

"Do you do any kind of art?" He looked at the picture and then back at me. He had the most beautiful eyes.

"Not photography, but I draw. It's...just something to pass the time on the road." I nodded, seeing Gaylord standing in the other gallery. "I should get back to the studio, thanks a lot."

"Sure, anytime. Nice talking to you."

He turned around on his way out and flashed a quick smile, another rush floated through my body.

I pulled the list from my back pocket, not caring that Gaylord was standing right behind me, looking over my shoulder.

Item #17: When he smiles, you just melt inside.

I heaved a monumental sigh and leaned back on Gaylord. "What am I getting myself into?"