The knock resounded through the apartment, echoing around the nearly empty rooms.

Abby Monroe ran a hand through her chin length hair, pulling it straight back across her head. It fell down in messed up clumps. She walked to the door and looked through the peephole. Abby groaned inwardly, seeing the short man standing outside the door. She closed her eyes and began walking quietly away from the door.

"ABBY!" a voice came through the door. "Open this door. I know you’re in there."

Abby sighed and walked to the door, pressing a smile into her cheeks.

"Mr. Fuller! What a pleasant surprise." Abby prayed she didn’t sound sarcastic.

"It shouldn’t be a surprise Ms. Monroe," the man said. "I generally do come knockin’ when someone doesn’t pay rent."

Abby felt the smile fade from her face. "I’ll have it Mr. Fuller. I just don’t have it yet."

"I need the money Abby," the man’s face softened slightly. "I have bills to pay too."

"I know," Abby said. "I know, it’s just since I had to take that flight to…"

"I don’t want to hear your excuses," he said. "I can give you a week Abby. Then I need the money."

Abby nodded, resigned. "I’ll try."

"You’d better try Abby or you’ll be using your last months rent deposit." The balding man walked down the hall away from the door leaving Abby standing in the doorway, the smile gone from her face.

Tammy Butler pulled herself away from the man in front of her.

"You know, you are a cold hearted bitch Tam," the man said. He laughed, joined by her light-hearted giggle.

"I know," she said, a hint of a squeal in her voice. "I am so mean."

"That poor bastard," the man said. "He doesn’t have a clue does he?"

"Nope," Tammy said, shaking her short blond hair, letting it slap against her cheeks. "He’s not going to have a clue."

"He’d better not try to win you back," the man said. "He needs to know you’re all mine."

"I’ve always been all yours," Tammy said, leaning forward to kiss him. "Never once have I not been yours."

"Except while you were fucking him," the man said.

"I was only thinking of you babe," Tammy said. She pulled him over to a chair, sitting in his lap. "Besides, what did you want me to do. We went out for six months. I wasn’t supposed to sleep with him?"

"Hey doll," the man said. "As long as you come home at the end of the night I’m not complaining."

"I know," Tammy said. "Now that I’ve got my name out there. Now we can be together."

"I never wanted to be anywhere else," the man said. He pulled Tammy to him. "That poor bastard."

Tammy laughed and nuzzled herself into the man’s neck.

"He’ll get over it," she said.

Joshua Chasez, better known to the world as JC, looked around the room that he’d called home for the last seven years. It was a small room, a room that he’d been allowed to express himself in. It was a room that was his, even though the house it was in was not. The room had been filled with photos, magazine articles and posters. It had been filled with paraphernalia collected from the fans. And now it was empty.

JC felt a tear form in his eye, but he quickly blinked it away. It wasn’t okay for him to cry over this. It was just a room.

It was the room he grew up in though. It was home.

And now he was leaving.

The room was all packed. The boxes had been moved out. The lights were off and the curtains drawn. The room wasn’t his any more.

It wasn’t his home anymore.

He turned around, savoring the familiarity of the room, and it’s complete unfamiliarity at the same time. He tried to memorize every corner, every pinhole, and every crack. He closed his eyes and tried to picture it.

"Yo, Josh," a voice came from the door. "You ready bro?"

JC slowly opened his eyes and looked at the curly haired man that he’d come to think of as a brother. He nodded, gathering the last box off the bed. He took one last look around the room.

He was leaving home and there was no going back. Ever.

Abby looked around the dark smoky bar, squinting in the heat. She wiped her hand on her jeans, took a cloth off the counter and began wiping down the shimmering wood.

A piece of hair slipped from behind her ear, but she pushed it back, tipping her head slightly to ensure that it would stay there.

"Abby!" a burly man called. "A scotch on the rocks!"

Abby felt the hair slip out from behind her ear again. She ignored it, turning around to find a glass and the bottle of scotch. She took a scoop of ice and poured the liquor in.  She carried the glass carefully down to the man.

"Here ya go Jim," she said.

"Sanks," the man slurred.

Abby held out her hand. "Keys Jim."

"I’s fine Abby."

"Keys Jim," Abby repeated. She got a playfully stubborn look on her face. "Jim, keys."

Jim sighed and looked towards the sky, possibly hoping for divine intervention with a bottle of scotch to boot. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He put them in the waiting hand.

"You’z owe me doll," Jim said. He took a sip of the drink. "I hate it when you do that."

"I only do it cause I love you," Abby said, hanging the keys on the hook that said ‘Jim.’

"You do, do yuh?" Jim asked. "What would my wife say?"

"She thanks me every time she sees me," Abby said with a laugh. She picked up the cloth and began wiping down the bar again. "Say hi for me will ya?"

"Of course," Jim said. "How did I get to be so lucky that the two most important women in my life get along?"

Abby laughed. "The gods must look favorably on you. And if you’re really lucky, that rain outside will be vodka."

"You think it will be?" Jim asked excitedly. He grabbed Abby’s hand. "Come on!"

"I’m joking Jim," Abby said kindly. She softly detached his hand.

Jim pouted. "Don’t joke with a drunk man Abby. It’s not nice."

Abby laughed. "I never claimed to be nice. Never. In fact, I’m quite evil."

"But I love you anyway doll," Jim said.

Abby wrinkled her nose as she grinned, causing her eyes to scrunch up. "I know you do."

JC looked at the pile of boxes in the living room. The furniture had come with the apartment. It was not a color theme that he would have chosen. Pea green. Yuck. Tammy liked it though and that was what mattered.

"Is there gonna be room for Tammy’s stuff ya big woman?" Justin asked. "You got more stuff than ma mom. What up wit dat?"

"I happen to have taste," JC growled. "Unlike some people."

Justin looked at the couch. It was big and curved and green.

"Taste? Dat’s what you call taste? I hope ah never get it den."

JC rolled his eyes. "This is a modern style bro. Very chic supposedly."

"Chic?" Justin asked. He scratched his curly hair. "Uh-huh."

"Ah shut up," JC said, punching Justin in the arm. "Tammy likes it. That’s what matters."

Justin stared at his friend. "Man! You be whipped."

"I’m not whipped," JC said. His voice had taken on a hard tone.

"Ya are. You ah so whipped."

Justin stepped back as JC took a swing at him.

"Ya move outta ma house cause of this chic and now you livin’ in a house of puke green. You ma man, you ah whipped."

JC jumped at Justin sending them both sprawling to the ground. They rolled around on the green carpet for a few minutes, playfully taking swings at each other. They didn’t hear the door open.

"Ah-hem," a feminine voice entered the room.

The two men stopped wrestling, immediately blushing.

"Darling," the girl continued. "This apartment was meant to be lived in, not ruined."

Justin rolled his eyes as JC got up and went over to the woman.

"I’m sorry sweetie," he said as he wrapped his arms around her. "We just got tired of waiting for you."

Tammy smiled, wrapping her arms around JC’s neck. She brought her lips to his delicately. JC completely forgot Justin was there.

Until he felt the tapping on his shoulder.

"Huh?" he asked dumbly, coming out of his trance.

"I gonna leave bro, ‘k?" Justin said. He glared over JC’s shoulder at Tammy who was grinning broadly.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks Justin," JC said. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ‘k?"

"Yeah bro, whatever." With one last glare at the short blond woman, he turned and walked out the door. It slammed behind him.

"I can’t believe we’re doing this," JC said. "Moving in together. That’s such a big step."

Tammy pulled out of the circle of JC’s arms.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that darling," she said. She walked over to the couch. The color made her already pale skin look pasty.

JC moved over to the couch and sat down next to her. "What do we need to talk about?"

"I don’t think this is a good idea," Tammy said looking at the ground.

"What’s not a good idea?" JC asked slowly. "Moving in together?"

"Yeah," Tammy turned her head toward JC suddenly, causing her hair to fly into her face. "I don’t think we’re a good idea anymore Josh."

JC stood up quickly. "What do you mean you don’t think we’re a good idea anymore?"

"It’s not working Josh. Between my schedule and you’re schedule we just don’t have time for one another."

"That’s why we’re moving in together," JC said. "So that we could have time for one another."

"I don’t think it’s a good idea anymore Josh. When you’re here, I’m not. When I am, you’re not. I love you Josh, but this just isn’t working anymore."

JC felt his eyes begin to burn. "We can make it work Tammy. I love you. I’m not going to let you go."

Tammy got up from the couch. "I’m sorry Josh."

A single tear ran down her cheek. JC resisted the urge to wipe it away. There was only one.

"Don’t go Tammy. Please? Can’t we talk about this?"

"I’m sorry Josh," Tammy repeated. She took the key off her key ring, leaving it on the table by the couch. She stood up and walked toward the door.

She turned back toward JC. "Good luck on tour. I hope it’s the best one ever." She went to the door opened it and walked out, letting it slam behind her.

JC couldn’t help but stare at the door. Two doors in his life closing in one day.

He looked around the apartment. This was his home now. His home was decorated in pea green.

But it was his home.

This was the time of work that Abby hated— the time between the rush and closing. The only people who were left were either old or they were too drunk to have any sort of conversation with.

She moved out from behind the bar, wiping down the counter. She wiped around Jim’s head. She’d give him ten minutes before she called his wife. It was the Friday ritual.

Sticking the cloth in her apron pocket, she moved around the small room to collect the empty glasses that littered the tables. She was taking an armload back to the bar when she heard the door jingle. Surprised she turned towards the door. People rarely came in at 12:30.

The man who entered was tall and dark haired. He immediately sat at the bar. Abby smiled. Maybe she’d get some good conversation out of the night now.

She went behind the counter, dropping off the glasses so that they could be washed. She approached the man, immediately struck by the blueness of his eyes even in the darkness of the bar. He looked very familiar.

"Can I get a drink?" the man asked.

"Sure," Abby said, dragging that piece of hair behind her ear at the same time. "What can I get you?"

The man scrunched up his cheek, contemplating the drink list in his mind. "Rum and coke— heavy on the rum."

Abby nodded. That damn piece of hair slipped out again. "Sure thing."

The man put his head down on the counter as she fixed the drink.

She slid it over by his head. "So, you wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"No," the man said.

"You sure?" Abby asked. "Us bar-girls are supposed to be pretty good at listening."

The man was silent.

Abby sighed. Maybe there wouldn’t be any good conversation. She tried again.

"You new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before."

The man looked at her. "Yeah, I moved in today." He closed his eyes. "Who knows if I’ll be here much longer though."

Abby tilted her head. "Why? I don’t think we’re that scary around here."

The man had almost finished his drink. He didn’t answer. He pushed his glass at her.

"You want another?" Abby asked. Upon the affirmative nod she refilled the glass, adding a little more rum than before. "My name is Abby by the way."

"Josh," the man said. "Well, that’s my real name anyway."

Abby scrutinized the face in front of her. Josh.

"What do you normally go by?" Abby asked. She was wracking her memory for any Josh’s she knew.

"Jay-cee," JC said slowly, like it was a hindrance in his life.

Abby was lucky that she wasn’t holding a bottle at that moment because she would have dropped it. JC, Joshua Chasez. That guy from ‘N SYNC. Shit.

Abby cocked her head, trying to cover her momentary lapse into star-struckdom.

"Aren’t you somebody famous?" she asked. "Weren’t you in that band that died last year? The Backstreet Boys?" She prayed he would find it funny. She’d always dreamed of meeting a star and now she had no clue what to say.

JC was taking a swig of his drink when she said that. He choked on the liquid, managing to gag it all down before he spoke. "Excuse me? The Backstreet Boys?"

Abby felt the corners of her mouth twitch, an attempt to keep the grin off of her face.

"You aren’t?" She put a hand up to her mouth. "Oh my god! I’m so mortified. You’re in that other group. That group that never made it! What was it, it was like two words…"

JC was glaring at her by this point. His drink was gone. He took the bottle of rum on the counter and poured himself a healthy dose. He didn’t even wait for the coke.

"N SYNC?" he said, as if asking a question.

"No," Abby said, inwardly laughing. She loved fucking with drunk people. "C something. C-note! Yeah you guys did that buns of steel video. I feel the need to complain about that. I did that and my buns are not steel."

"I’m not in C-note." JC’s voice was very calm. "I’m in ‘N Think."

He was starting to slur. Abby couldn’t help but laugh. "I know," she said. "I’m just fucking with you. You looked like you needed a distraction."

JC took another drink, pausing in the middle of it. He set the glass down on the counter. "Yeah. I did."

"You want to talk about it yet?" Abby asked.

"No," JC said. "I don’t want to talk about my girlfriend dumping me in the apartment we were supposed to move into today."

Abby stopped the cloth that she’d been absentmindedly twisting in her hands.

"That’s harsh!" she said. "I would so never do that to a guy."

JC looked up at her, tears glistening in his eyes. "Why’d she do it?" There was a catch in his voice as he tried to prevent a sob.

"I don’t know," Abby said. She put a hand on JC’s fist lying on the bar. "Some women just are… Did you love her?"

JC nodded. "Yeah. We were moving in together."

"That doesn’t mean you loved her, love her, sorry."

JC looked at her. "I did though," he said. His eyes had gone hard. No one had ever challenged his feelings for Tammy. They’d been so perfect together.

Abby backed up, and off. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you."

"S’okay," JC said, pouring himself another glass of rum. This time he did push the glass toward her for the coke.

"You’d better slow down there Josh," Abby said. "You don’t want to be sick."

"I don’t want to remember tonight," JC said. "I don’t want to remember that I’m single. I don’t want to remember what she did."

Abby pulled the bottle of rum off the counter. He’d had enough. That was clear.

"That’s not healthy Josh," she said.

"I don’t want to remember it though. I don’t want to remember that I have to tell the guys. How am I gonna do that? Huh, Abby? How?"

"You tell them the truth. That she screwed you over."

"But they all like her." JC wiped his eyes fiercely. It was so unmanly to cry.

Abby stared at him. Drunken people seldom made sense. "So?"

"So they won’t like her any more!" JC said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Abby looked at the man in front of her. "Josh, she broke up with you. I sincerely doubt that after this little stunt, even though I don’t know her, you guys are going to be getting back together."

"But —" Josh started. His hand reached around for the bottle of rum. He didn’t like that it was gone.

"Sorry bud," Abby said. "You’ve had enough. I don’t want you to get sick and pass out on me here."

JC looked about ready to protest when Abby noticed that Jim still had his head down on the bar.

"I’ll be right back," Abby said. "I gotta go call someone."

She walked to the phone on the other end of the bar, staring at JC surreptitiously. He took the bottle of rum from the spot she’d put it, shakily pouring himself another drink, before putting the bottle back. Abby sighed, hoping that he wouldn’t pass out on her.

She picked up the phone, dialing Jim’s wife. Ten minutes later she was off the phone, and back by JC.

"I thought I said you’d had enough," she said, mock angrily.

JC looked at her guiltily. "I sorry." He pouted with a little puppy dog look.

Abby shook her head. "You really are cut off mister," she said taking his drink. "It’s time for you to go home."

JC looked at her, a scared look passing across his face. "I don’t want to."

"You got to Josh. We’re closing."

JC sighed dramatically. "Fine." He got up, pulling on his coat. He walked towards the door, stumbling slightly.

"You didn’t drive did you?" Abby asked.

"No," JC said. "I walked."

He pushed open the door and wandered into the street.

Abby smiled to herself as she wiped down the bar and waited for Jim’s wife to come get him. Twenty minutes later she closed and locked the front door of the building, pocketing the keys.

She saw a man stumbling towards her on the street. It seemed that he was crying. Abby immediately stepped to the side, trying to avoid him.

He stumbled to a stop in front of her. "Abby?"

Abby opened her eyes, nervous that this man would know her name. Then she recognized the dark brown hair and the startling blue eyes. "Yeah?"

"I can’t find my way home."

Abby almost laughed. Almost.

"Where do you live?" she asked. It couldn’t be too far.

JC drunkenly recited the address. Abby nodded seriously. It was just around the corner.

"I’ll walk you home, ‘k?"

JC looked at her gratefully. She began walking and he followed closely beside her.

CHAPTER 2

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