Prologue: Welcome to Music City


Desmond's hand was still sorely bruised as his blue convertible rolled into Nashville on I-65 for the first time. The past was otherwise behind them, nothing but a cheap hotel and a couple weeks of frenzied, desperate apartment hunting ahead of them. He glanced over at Kelsey in the passanger seat. She was staring out the windows, her eyes hidden by thick, dark sunglasses. "Welcome to Music City," Desmond read, his voice carrying a gentle smile, "Nashville, Tennessee. Feels like we've been driving for an eternity to get here, huh?"

Kelsey only just barely nodded.

The convertible was soon lost among the midday rush hour traffic as Nashville's various residents tried to crisscross the city at the intersection of I-65 and I-40. The downtown buildings loomed in the distace, tall and noble, and LP Field mirrored in the Cumberland River alongside the interstate. Desmond leaned forward to look at the extent of the skyline view. "You know," he said, "In all the years I've wanted to come here, I never once thought to Google the skyline?" he glanced over at Kelsey again.

She looked out at the contrast of tall concrete buildings against the bluest sky, at the foliage of trees along the river's edge, and the way the water seemed to dance around it all, a billowing skirt on a spinning dancer. "It's not a terrible skyline," she said, "If you call it that."

"I mean it isn't Boston," Desmond answered, "But that's okay. That was the point."

Kelsey didn't reply.

Desmond's blue convertible inched it's way along the interstate, veering onto I-40 and following the curved route along the east side of downtown.

The sun was just setting, turning the sky a blood-orange hue, by the time Desmond pulled into the lot of the hotel they'd booked. He switched the car off and turned to her. "I'm gonna go check us in," he said.

"Okay."

Desmond hesitated, then left the keys in the ignition, and went inside. The front desk was empty, so he rang the little hand bell on the counter and turned to look at a display of local tourist attraction pamphlets - mostly Civil War History or Country Music related. He had picked up a pamphlet on the famous Blue Bird Cafe and opened it's cover when he heard a voice call, "Can I help you?" The voice rang with a New Delhi accent.

Turning, Desmond said," I made reservations, I'm here to check in."

"Name?"

"Truetree," he said, "Desmond Truetree."

A moment later and the man had pulled up the reservation and was holding up an access key for Desmond. "Room 217," he said, "Round the back. Second floor on the corner. You'll have a nice view of the lights. You want help with your bags? Only an extra five dollars."

"We don't have much," Desmond replied. "I can get it." He started for the door.

"We have room service," the man called, "Very good. Very cheap. Call us up."

"Thanks," Desmond answered.

When he returned to the car and slid into the passenger seat, Kelsey said, "Check in okay?"

"Got the room keys," Desmond answered, waving them for her to see.

Kelsey nodded. "Good."

"It's around the back," he said. "Are you okay?" he asked suddenly as a tear slid below the rim of Kelsey's sunglasses and he wondered how long she'd been crying behind them without him knowing.

"Yes," she said thickly. "I'm okay."

Desmond backed the car out and drove around to the back. When he turned the car off for the night, he raised the roof and they sat in the silence that followed it snapping into place. "It's a new start, a new chance at life," He said.

She nodded, and swiped the stray tears with the backs of her hands.

"It's gonna be okay," Desmond said.

He scooped up the bags from the backseat when they started in, and carried them up the stairs, Kelsey following along carrying an old record player an a case that carried the records themselves. She hugged these things to her chest. At the top of the steps, she stopped at the railing and stared out at the city lights that glistened and glowed in the darkness beyond.

"Desi," she said.

He turned to look at her, dropping a couple suitcases in the process.

"There really is hope here, I can feel it... like heat radiating from the city." She looked at him, and, for the first time in as long as he could recall, a tiny hint of smile flickered across her face. It may have been only a moment, only a flicker, a teaser of the brilliance that her smiles usually were, yet he felt his heart soar at the thought of it having, however briefly, existed. She lowered her sunglasses, and revealed thick black bruises that darkened her face like she was wearing ebony eyeshadow. "It's like sunshine after a storm," she whispered. "Can you feel it, Desi?" she closed her eyes, feeling it.

Desmond closed his eyes, too, and he did feel it. But he was pretty sure that the warmth and hope he felt had more to do with the return of her long lost smile than it did to do with the city itself. Any city, he thought, would do if only he could be near to that smile that he'd missed so much.




Nick sat in his car, staring out the windshield at the bar. Lights flashed in the windows, and the neon sign glowed in the dark. Overhead, there might've been stars if it wasn't for the smog that coated the city. He leaned back in his seat, his palms sweating. He wanted to go in, but something deeper kept him from unbuckling the seatbelt. He glanced at the sheet music on the seat beside him, heard the harsh words that had been dealt to him about his attempts at writing a song, and he curled his fingers around the steering wheel. He needed a drink, he'd earned a drink. And all of them had earned knowing that they'd made him fall off the wagon.

Resolutely, he pulled his keys from the ignition, and pushed open the door, climbing out into the Los Angeles night air. He was walking across the lot when he dropped his keys by accident and they hit the pavement with a cling. He bent down to pick them up and found one of the rings had broken, and the little piece lay on the pavement.

It was his one-year AA chip.

He picked up the piece and stood up, turning it over on his fingers. He looked up at the bar, then back down at the chip. "God damn," he whispered, and he backed away from the doors, his hands shaking, like he was a knight backing away from a dragon. He stumbled once on a dip in the pavement, and got back into the car with trembling hands.

"Close," he muttered, "Too close. Way too close." He slammed the car into reverse, pulled out of the parking lot, hands sweating, mind racing. He drove away, onto the freeway. It wasn't until he was a couple hours east of Los Angeles that he knew where he was going, and he unrolled the windows of his car and threw the sheet music out, and watched them in the glowing red of his tail lights as the pages danced like tumbleweed on the road behind him.

He drove through the night, music blaring, mind racing, thanking his lucky stars that the chip had fallen to remind him, to keep him strong, but knowing he needed more than that. He wasn't sure what was driving him otherwise, he only knew where he belonged, where he needed to be. The sun rose on him driving, and traveled through the sky. He made a couple stops - ate some food, filled the tank.

It was nearly evening the next night when he saw it on the horizon: the highway sign that he'd been waiting for. "Welcome to Music City," he read, relief in his voice.

Chapter One: It's Something


Kelsey sat in the window, staring out at the city skyline while the air conditioner blew, ruffling her hair and chilling her toes. She hugged her knees to her chest. She imagined all the people that belonged in all the windows of all the buildings that filled the picture window's view. How many of them were leading perfectly normal lives, with everyday choices like what to eat for lunch and whether or not to go see a movie that night, rather than the things she was facing. She sighed, a deep, rattling sigh.

The door to the room clicked and opened and Desmond came in balancing two McDonalds cups and a giant bag of food that made the whole room instantly smell like fryer grease and salt. He put the bag and sweaty drinks down on the table. "I got a job," he announced.

Kelsey swallowed, "Where?"

"McDonalds," he said. He opened the bag and rustled around in it, pulled out a fish sandwich and one of the containers of fries. He walked over and handed it to Kelsey along with her drink. He pulled a straw from the brim of his hat, popped the paper off by banging it against his knee, and stuck it into her cup lid. "It's only temporary, until I can find a better one, obviously," he said, "But you really can't knock McDonalds. You know they pay you twelve bucks an hour to flip burgers? And benefits?"

Kelsey sat up and let her feet slide off the air conditioner, "McDonalds offers benefits?"

"Apparently. If you work full time. I'm only part time. But who knows, maybe it'll be worth sticking around for." He tipped his hat off his head, perched it on the TV, and grabbed the remaining food and drink. He threw himself into a chair next to her. "I mean it's not Hollywood, but it's something."

"Yeah," she nodded.

"I didn't find any apartments in our range, though. At least not that didn't look like something dracula would eat his victims at anyways," Desmond said. "I'm wondering if we might do better trying to find a small house and financing."

Kelsey sighed.

"I know, you don't wanna commit to anything as big as a house yet," Desmond said, nodding. He opened his own straw and shoved it into the McDonalds cup. "I'm really trying here, you know? I really think this town is the answer. I think it's gonna help." He looked over at her, an almost pleading expression on his face.

Kelsey studied the fish sandwich, picking at the triangluar bits of cheese that stuck out from under the bun lid. "I know you are Des, I'm just -- I'm tired, you know?"

"I know," he replied.

"After everything that happened back home, sometimes I feel like it might be easier to just give up," she confessed.

Desi shook his head, "It wouldn't be." He paused. "Kels, you saw so much hope in this city when we got here. Remember? Standing on the balcony out there, the hope radiating like sunshine?"

"Maybe I don't deserve hope."

"You deserve hope."

Kelsey took a bite of the fish sandwich. "Did you look into AA?" she asked.

Desmond nodded. He chewed thoughtfully on a french fry. "There's a church down the street. They run weekly meetings. There's one tonight. I might walk down to it."

"Good." Kelsey nodded.

Desmond studied her and stuck the remainder of the french fry into his mouth. "Kels." She looked up from the food. "I know I've let you down in the past, but... not anymore. You deserve a better friend than I've been to you."

A tiny fragment of smile twitched her lips and she said, "Desi, you try your hardest. I can't expect more than that, nobody can. You got me this far, right?"

He could feel things building, words on the tip of his tongue that didn't quite form. He wanted to blurt them out, to speak them to her in oracles and sonnets and make her understand exactly how he felt. But the words caught in his throat and instead of telling her everything, he opened the lid of his burger and peeled a pickle out of the sauce and held it out. "Pickle?" he asked.

She took it.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten the pickle on his burger from McDonalds.

"I'm going to abstain from men," she commented suddenly.

"Going rainbow on me?" he joked.

Kelsey laughed, "No... Just... I need a break from men. Especially after everything with Luke."

Desi nodded, chewing. He was glad he had a mouthful of burger to keep him from saying all the crap he could've about Luke. Not the least of which being a scathing remark about the definition of real men. He said them all in his head instead.

"Maybe I'll take a nice bubble bath while you're at the AA meeting tonight," she said.

He nodded. She'd taken three since they'd been there. The apartment she'd shared with Luke hadn't had a deep enough tub, and she'd heard someone say that taking a bath pregnant wasn't safe. Though that had turned out to be a wives tale upon researching it more, she'd still been afraid to take one. Afraid of what might happen if she did. Not that it mattered any longer...

But Desmond did like the way she smelled when she came out of a bath. Like fruit and coconut and something else, some kind of flower that made him think of a pastel bluish-purple color. He'd smelt it the first time she'd taken the bath and he'd had all he could do to stay sitting on his own bed, reading the free newspaper he'd found in the lobby. He'd looked over and watched her open a bottle of nail polish and paint her toes mango and wondered what it would be like to hold her. He'd wondered that for ages, but the smell of her post-bath really increased the desire.

"I really appreciate you looking into AA," Kelsey said.

Desmond nodded.

"I just don't want to go through anything like I did with Luke again," she added.

"I understand. I respect that." Desmond nodded.

"You really think things are gonna get better?" Kelsey questioned.

Desmond shrugged, "They can't get any worse."

She laughed.

"I think they're better already," he added.

Kelsey nodded, "Yeah, maybe."

After they'd finished eating - mostly in silence from that point forward - and watched the city lights turn on, Desmond stood up and took his hat from its perch on the top of the TV set. He balled the empty McDonalds packaging into one of the bags. "I guess I'll go to the meeting thing then," he said, and he stood by the door.

"Okay," Kelsey replied. She put her feet back up on the air conditioner and went back to her business of watching the windows and dreaming about the people that lived behind them.

Chapter Two: Alien Abduction


Desmond crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back as far as the plastic folding chair would allow him, as though sinking below the shoulder level of all the people surrounding him would help in making the meeting go quicker or easier. He wanted to be invisible. What wouldn't I give for a radio active spider to crawl along and give me super powers right about now, he thought, looking around the room at the assortment of characters that had filled the other plastic seats surrounding him. All ages, both genders, various walks of life... No two people in the room seemed to have much in common. He took a deep breath and sank a little lower, as though the chair would keep them from noticing him.

There was a bustle at the front of the room, and a guy that had taken one or two too many sprays at a tanning salon was standing up at a microphone on a podium. People in the room seemed to sit straighter and situate themselves to see the podium more clearly. The guy tapped the microphone, testing it, and it thump, thump, thumped throughout the room on a crackly PA system. "Testing," he said, as though the thumping hadn't been enough to confirm that the microphone was in operation. His nearly-orange-from-spray muscles flexed under a too-tight blue-grey t-shirt. "Tonight we have a special speaker." He cleared his throat, right into the microphone, and the sound of his phlegm moving echoed around the room.

I do not belong here, Desmond thought. This is hokum.

The guy rambled on, reading from books, and making everyone mumble along through the Serenity Prayer. He called for new members to introduce themselves, and Desmond shrank even smaller in his seat, refusing to allow himself to be acknowledged. All he wanted in the world was to get the hell out of there.

"Well, that brings us to our speaker portion, then," the guy announced. "This member has been with us for almost two years now, and is thirteen months sober. He's worked really hard and I know we are all very proud of him. Now he wants to share his story, something we've all been looking forward to..." he smiled. "Everyone, please welcome Nick Carter."

"Welcome Nick!" the entire room seemed to bleat at once.

Desmond's interest peaked. No way could they mean the Nick Carter, could they? In spite of himself, he sat up just a little bit, craned his neck the teeniest amount, trying to see without anyone knowing he was looking.

Nick stood up and grabbed a handful of papers and stood behind the podium and shuffled them. It sounded like birds wings over the crackly PA system as he did. He looked up from the pages and cleared his throat, a nervous glimmer in his eyes as he looked around the room. Desmond slouched back down. Now that Nick was up at the podium, he could see him clear enough without sitting up and bringing attention to himself. He couldn't believe that it was the Nick Carter. What were the odds of that - a Backstreet Boy at the first meeting of AA that he went to.

He wondered how horrible it would be if he told Kelsey about Nick being there when he got back to the hotel. There was probably some law or something against telling people about celebrities they saw in AA. But Kelsey wasn't just people, she was Kelsey, and this would excite the hell out of her.

Nick cleared his throat, though he had the decencey to turn away from the mic unlike the Hasselhoff wanna be that had just left the podium.

Nick stared around the room at the other members of AA, all staring back at him. It was different, he thought, than being on stage in front of a million teenagers. It was different than when the girls were screaming and the music was thumping and he didn't have a care in the world other than whether he'd mess up on the dance steps or not. "Thanks Brad," he said. He felt naked in front of their eyes, like the emperor in his new clothes. Here, he was vulnerable, here they knew his secrets.

"My name is Nick Carter," he began, "And I am an alcoholic."

"Hello Nick," they all responded. Even Desmond found himself mumbling along.

"When I was a baby," Nick said, "I lived in a bar my parents owned. I played games about going to bars because that's what the grown-ups in my life did. I became an adult at the age of twelve when I became a Backstreet Boy, and on tour nobody keeps a check on whether you're drinking or not. I would wake up in the morning and instead of using Listerine to wash my mouth, I'd use Jack Daniels to take the edge off reality. I drank so much I passed out. I drank so much I wished I'd pass out. I became a zombie. I wandered the streets at night, got in fights, got arrested, got the shit beat out of me by bigger guys, and I almost lost my career, and my life. I broke my own heart. Literally." He looked around. He spotted Desmond. "Don't let yourself do the same," he said, and Desmond couldn't help but feel like Nick was talking directly to him. "I believe in you. You gotta believe in you, too, if you wanna make your life better. I mean, that's why you're here isn't it? To make your life better?" He looked away. "And we all have the potential to be better. It's just something we gotta decide."

He wondered what they'd all think of him if they knew how close he'd come back in LA to walking into a bar. Without knowing this, they clapped and his old man sponsor, a guy who was wheel chair bound with a beer belly that Nick lovingly called Ringo (whose real name was Paul Harrison), had tears in his eyes and a ten year chip pinned to his chest. Nick was thankful that he hadn't had to let down old Ringo.

But it'd been damn close.

After the speech, Brad-the-Hasslehoff-lookalike got back on stage and opened everything Nick had said up for discussion and Nick answered questions and the whole group of fifteen or so talked about parental influences and how childhood experiences could lead into alcoholism. Desmond sat quietly watching.

When the discussion was over, Brad directed everyone to the cookies and punch on a table in the back and dismissed everyone, but instead of leaving they just seemed to migrate across the room to the tables. Desmond grabbed his hat from under the chair and flipped it onto his head, pushing back his dirty hair. He didn't plan to stick around for cookies and koolaid. He paused at the end of the row of empty seats to tie the lace on his boot.

"I haven't seen you here before." Nick's voice cut through Desmond's concentration on not being seen. He looked up at Nick and straightened, his boot still only half tied. They couldn't be more opposite of each other - Nick's lanky, light complextion with perfecly tweaked blonde hair versus Desmond's husky, olive tones and dirty, shoulder-length hair. Desmond stared at Nick. "This your first meeting?"

Desmond licked his lips, "Yeah," he said finally, after a long pause.

"Feels like you got abducted by aliens or somethin', right?" Nick laughed.

"To put it mildly," Desmond replied.

Nick stuck out his hand, "It gets better, I promise. I'm Nick Carter."

"I'm Desmond Truetree," Desmond answered, taking Nick's hand and shaking it.

"You're from Boston," Nick stated.

Desmond paused, then said, "Ye-eah. How did you know that?"

"Your accent. You move to Nashville recently?"

"About two weeks," Desmond answered.

"Cool. Welcome, man. It's a good place to get on your feet. It's beautiful here." Nick smiled. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Nashville. Like alive, I mean. Not like physically here, although I wouldn't be physically here if it wasn't for Nashville, either. Cos if it wasn't for Nashville then here wouldn't exist because it is Nashville. But you know what I mean."

Desmond nodded. He thought he did, but he wasn't sure.

"So what brought you to Nashville?"

"Just needed a change," Desmond answered.

"Well ya chose a good place, a good city. You won't regret living here." Nick shoved his hands in his pockets and spun his one year chip in his palm inside the fabric. "So what do you do?"

"What do I do?" Desmond repeated.

"Yeah, like for a living."

Desmond shrugged, "I mean we just got here, I got a job at McDonalds. Down the street. On Fesslers."

Nick nodded like that was a noble profession. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I write songs," Desmond blurted.

"No kidding?" Nick said. He laughed, "I've been trying to write this one song and I can't seem to get it right, you know? Like it's in me, it's right here," he tapped his chest with the blunt end of his fist, "But I can't seem to get it out, you know, on the paper." He shook his head. "Song writing is damn hard. It's hard to get in the business, it's hard to keep it up. Kudos to you, bro."

"It ain't always easy. Especially for the really good songs," Desmond answered, "I mean anyone can write a couple rhyming lines of bullshit, but for the song to mean anything it needs more substance than, say ---" he paused. Usually when he went on this tirade he pointed out the meaninglessness of I Want It That Way but, luckily, he'd stopped short shy of the song title, and he just glanced away awkwardly.

Nick was about to prompt Desi to continue when the old man in the wheelchair pushed his way over beside the two young men. "You," he gruffed up at Nick, "Get down here on my level, son." Nick knelt down. "I'm damn proud of you."

Nick smiled, "You've been a huge part of this, Ringo," he said. Then he waved to Desmond, "Hey this is my friend, Desmond Truetree. This was his first meeting."

The old man looked up at Desmond, "Welcome Desmond."

Desmond lifted his hat in salutation.

"This is my sponsor, John-Paul Harrison... I call him Ringo." Nick grinned, "He was only missing one Beatle, you know?" Nick turned to Desmond, "You should get a sponsor, man, it really helps a lot. I dunno what I'd do without ol' Ringy here." He patted the old man's knee. "I call him up whenever I'm feeling down and he helps me. Talks me through the cravings, you know? He's a good guy. A great guy. I'm proud to make him proud."

"This one's real charismatic," Ringo said, thumbing at Nick. "Could talk and smile his way into the White House if it so inclined him, me thinks."

Desmond nodded.

Later, Nick walked with him out after grabbing a handful of Oreos from the table. He dunked them into the cup of kool aid like Desmond remembered doing when he was four years old at Sunday School. "It's a hard road," Nick had said as they came to a stop at the edge of the lot. "But it's really worth it."

Desmond nodded.

"I think the key is having something you're working for," Nick rambled, "Like a benchmark. Like you lose a certain number of pounds or bench a certain weight or run a 5k or whatever."

"I got something I'm working for," Desmond replied, thinking of Kelsey back at the hotel.

Nick smiled, "Good," he replied. He paused. "Hey if you need to talk anytime..." he pulled out his wallet and withdrew a business card. It had the name KAOTIC RECORDS printed in the center, followed by Nick's name and a phone number. "Gimme a call." Nick handed the card to Desmond, who took it and slipped it into his pocket.

"I appreciate that," Desmond said.

Nick smiled.

Ringo was just rolling out into the parking lot. "Carter!" he called, and Nick looked over, "Help an old man load his chair?" he requested.

Nick grinned back at Desmond, "Gotta go. But you have a good week, man..." and with that, Nick turned and galloped across the parking lot toward Ringo's old beat up red truck.

Desmond tilted his hat to Ringo, who waved in response as Nick jogged over, and then he turned and started the walk back up the street to the hotel, laden with AA pamphlets and, somehow, Nick's half empty solo cup of kool aid. He stumbled over the railroad tracks that crossed the street and cut through the lot of the Purity milk factory to the hotel.

The lights of the city gleamed in the distance as he patted the car on his way past and took the steps two at a time. Room 217. He unlocked the door and stepped into the cool air conditioning that was running inside. The window curtains were torn wide open and the record player spun, sending out the sounds of Dashboard Confessional softly from the corner. Kelsey lay on the bed, flat on her back in the dark, staring up at the ceiling.

"I'm back," Desmond said, tossing the AA pamphlets onto the bed beside her, and throwing away Nicks solo cup in the tiny trash can beside the TV stand.

Kelsey didn't move.

"Kels?" His voice rose in worry.

"I heard you," she said.

Desmond sighed. He turned and put his hat down on the TV and yanked his shirt off over his head. He went over to the bed and lay down across it diagonally in only his jeans, his head propped up on his forearm, staring out the window at the city.

"How was it?" Kelsey asked.

Desmond shrugged, "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Yeah?" Kelsey looked over.

"Yeah." Desmond said.

"Meet anyone?"

"There was this guy there, he was nice."

"No sexy women?"

"No sexy women."

"Are you gay and just not telling me?" Kelsey teased. Then, "Not that I care. You know I wouldn't care, don't you?" she sat up. "Cos I wouldn't. Nothing would change between us if you were."

"I know it wouldn't," Desmond replied.

Kelsey laid back down. "So what was the guy like?"

Desmond shrugged, "I dunno. They say you should have a sponsor in AA, you know, like someone that's gone through it and understands it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Desmond nodded.

"You gonna get a sponsor?" she asked.

"I wouldn't mind asking this guy to be my sponsor."

"Then ask him."

"Maybe next week," Desmond answered.

Chapter Three: Going Out


Nick's eyes were closed. The hammock rocked in the slight breeze that rustled in the leaves, making the weathered ropes creak. He breathed deeply, practicing some kind of meditation, though he wasn't really sure wha he was meditating on, other than actively trying not to imagine laying there drinking an ice cold beer. He hugged the canary yellow notepad he'd been using to scribble down ideas for a new song and tried to think of lyrics. He found himself composing a love song to a pint.

Froth and foam so delicious...

He sighed and opened his eyes and stared up at the bright blue sky and the tops of the trees against it. He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the pages of contacts until he reached Ringo's listing and pressed call.

"Hello?" Ringo answered on the third ring.

"Hey, it's me."

"Well 'lo there stranger," Ringo said joivally.

"I really want a beer," Nick blurted out. He bit his lip.

Ringo sighed, "I was hoping that wasn't what you were calling about. Where are you?"

"In my backyard," Nick answered. He rolled off the hammock, "But I'm fightin' everything in me not to grab my keys and book it to the store. I can almost taste it, man." He sighed heavily and threw the legal pad down into one of the lawn chairs on the deck he'd built and let himself into the house. Nacho, who had been confined inside because he'd been afraid of little dog legs getting stuck in hammock netting, fluttered around his ankles as he walked through the house.

"Take a couple deep breaths," Ringo advised, "Remember all the shit you been through in the last year, man. You take a drink that might solve ya problems right now, but where's it gonna get'cha tomorrow morning? Back where you started, that's where. And what good's in that?"

Nick sighed. "I know. I keep tellin' myself that." He closed and opened his fist, flexing his fingers.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Nick," Ringo said. "We all have these moments of weanesses and secretly wish that we were weak so that we could pass off the things we do on our weakness, but you're strong, and you can do this. I believe in you."

Nick sighed. He closed his eyes and threw himself onto his couch. Nacho leaped up onto him and curled up on his chest, like a weight, keeping him in place, keeping him from defying everything and going out and getting the drink he was so desperately thinking about... "Thanks Ringo, I dunno where I'd be without you. Maybe dead or something. I dunno. But I appreciate you, man."

"Think nothing of it," Ringo replied. "Here, let's pray."

Nick pet Nacho absently as he held the phone, and he listened to Ringo's rough-edged voice mumble his way through the Serenity Prayer - God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Old Ringo got to the end of the prayer and said, "There we go... We feeling better?"

"Yeah, I think so," Nick replied. He let out a streaming sigh. "Thanks man."

"No problem. Anytime. You know that."

They hung up and Nick sat there on the couch, scratching behind Nacho's ears. The pug curled into his hand, then flipped over for a full belly rub. Nick stared at the blank TV screen, his mind working on processing everything Ringo had said. He thought about the song he was supposed to write and the pressure he was under to get it done. Nothing was coming to him at all, not even a concept for what the song would be about. But he'd been such a little braggart about the fact that he could write a song that now he felt like he had to write the song. He could almost hear the conversation between him and Kevin when Kev would be like it's okay, it's harder than you thought, that's all, and Nick would wanna punch him for being so casually arrogant.

He still really wanted a drink, he realized.

"Oh fuck it," he muttered and he stood up, causing Nacho to roll off the couch. "Sorry," he said to Nacho, then swung through the house and grabbed his keys from the hook by the door. Nacho raced alongside him to the door. "I'll take you for a walk later," Nick replied to the question Nacho was asking as he wiggled by the door. "I'll be back." He slipped out the door, leaving Nacho in the entryway. He jogged across the lawn to the car and swung himself inside.




Desmond stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. He splashed water on himself and watched the beads roll across his skin. His hair was still wet from the shower and had made a cresent moon of moisture around the neckline of his tshirt. He stared into his own chocolate brown eyes and studied what he saw. He wasn't entirely sure he knew who it was that stared back at him from in the mirror sometimes, like the person he'd once been had become lost somewhere along the way. He touched the edges of his eyes where the skin krinkled and puckered in ways he didn't remember it having done before.

When he came out of the bathroom, Kelsey was watching TV. Her slender body stretched flat across the bed. She was too thin, he thought, almost dangerously so, in a way that frightened him. He stood there awkwardly in the doorway until she looked over. "You're headed out then?" she asked.

"I wish you'd come," he said.

Kelsey shook her head, "I'm fine here."

"You haven't left the hotel since we got here," Desmond pointed out.

Kelsey shrugged.

Desmond grabbed his hat from the top of the TV, which had become it's unofficial perch. Kelsey didn't tell him, but she kind of liked that it lived there when it wasn't on his head, because it made the TV look distinguished, like a little moving picture gentleman.

"I've left the room," she said, "I went to the vending machine downstairs yesterday."

"That's not what I mean," Desmond crossed the room to get the guitar case that leaned against the wall. "You really need to do something besides sit around the hotel, Kels," he said, "The whole point of being here is moving on and getting you back on your feet and so far I'm the only one participating." He paused, "You haven't even gone apartment hunting with me."

Kelsey muted the TV and sat up, her legs crossed. She stared at Desmond as he unsnapped the guitar case and looked down at the strings of the instrument, the wood reflecting the light of the lamp. She knew he'd been doing so much for her, knew he just wanted to know she appreciated it all. But it was hard because as much as she wanted to leave the hotel room, wanted to go exploring and see everything there was to see, she didn't quite dare to.

Even the walk to the vending machine had taken every ounce of courage she had. She wasn't sure if Desmond understood that, what that had taxed her. She looked down at her crossed legs and put her hands on her ankles. She closed her eyes.

Desmond closed the guitar case and looked over at Kelsey. She had a tear on her cheek, and he knew he'd said something he shouldn't have. He crossed the room, and sat on the edge of her bed. He wanted to hug her, to just reach over and pull her into him and wrap his arms around her and hold her. But he didn't dare to touch her, afraid of a negative reaction... "Kels," he said, "I'm sorry."

She opened her eyes, they were watery. "I know it's foolish, I shouldn't be so fucking scared of everything."

"I'm gonna be right there with you," Desmond said, "I'll be by your side the entire time."

Kelsey looked into his eyes... those wonderful eyes that she'd looked to all her life with trust. She took a deep breath, "Okay. Let me get dressed."

Desmond's smile lit up, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said. She rolled off the bed and reached in her open suitcase for a shirt and some shorts. "One sec."

When the bathroom door had closed behind her, Desmond jumped up and grabbed his guitar case and slid the strap around his shoulder with an excited flare. Maybe, just maybe, he would finally get to change things, finally get her to see how he really felt about her...

She came out a couple minutes later, still pulling her shaggy hair into a pony tail. "Okay," she said, "Let's go, then."

Desmond hurried to open the door for her and she thanked him and stepped out onto the stairway. He pulled the door closed behind them as she looked out at the city skyline over the balcony. He led the way down to the car and unlocked it, slid his guitar into the backseat, and they pulled out of the lot and onto the street. "Next stop," he said, "The Bluebird Cafe."

Chapter Four: They're With Me


Desmond couldn't help but keep glancing over at Kelsey, sneaking peeks of her as the blue convertible moved through the backroads of Nashville. Tall green trees loomed high over head and filtered the sunshine, creating a cool, diffused glow that seemed to radiate off Kelsey. Her hair blew out behind her, rippled in the air as they drove , and her eyes were lit up, mesmerized, as she looked around her at the wide lawns and stone houses that were tucked into the trees. Desmond saw Kelsey the way most people saw poetry. To his eyes, she was as lyrical and beautiful as a love song. The curve of her skin spoke to him the way music did.

"These homes are so nice," she said, shouting over the movement of the air. She looked over at him, "They're like the movies, aren't they?"

Desmond nodded. They were certainly in a well-to-do area of Nashville's rural outskirts. "I wonder how many famous people we've passed by," he laughed.

Kelsey laughed in a carefree manner, catching a flyaway strand of hair with her finger and tucking it behind her ear. "Go and knock on every last door, Desi, and make a list and we'll sell a map of the stars, just like they do in Hollywood."

Desmond laughed, "Great, I'll end up arrested."

Kelsey smiled, "As long as you let me know who you find."

"I'll make sure you're my one call before they toss me in the slammer and throw away the key," he replied. She laughed and her white teeth reflected the sun, her eyes glowing, and he wondered if she'd ever understand that what he meant by that was that she would always be his one call, no matter what.

Soon the trees gave way to another area of commerce, and the buildings loomed up the edges of the road. Kelsey swiveled around in her seat, looking out the windows, and as they passed a large shopping mall with a theater and a dozen stores, she turned back to Desmond. "They have everything here," she commented.

"Its a major city," Desmond pointed out.

"So does Boston," Kelsey said, "There's more here, though, it seems."

Desmond laughed. "Variety and options so diverse you'll never make a choice again," he smirked. Kelsey was rather notorious for her lack of decision-making skills.

They pulled into the parking lot of a long, squat strip mall next to a gas station. The iconic blue awning of the Blue Bird Cafe hung from the brick alongside a hair salon and a ghetto looking thrift store. Desmond circled until he found a parking spot, and cut the engine. A line of people carrying beat up old guitars and pages of sheet music hung around the door and wrapped around the side of the building. Half of them wore cowboy boots and hats and looked the part of the desperate farm kids seeking fame and fortune while the others reeked of new-to-town and searching for a break.

Kelsey whistled low, "That's a lot of people," she commented.

Desmond nodded. "All songwriters, musicians, singers, talent seekers..." He felt a knot grow in the pit of his stomach at the thought that this gaggle of people was his competition. He drew a deep breath. He'd known before he started that everyone and their cousin came to Nashville in hopes of being discovered in the music industry - primarily the indie and country genres. But the good thing was only a fraction of them had real talent. Of course, that thought was only mildly comforting because, Desi realized, there was no real proof positive that he himself was any good. What if he was a terrible songwriter and he didn't even know it? What then?

"Are we going in or are we going to sit here all night?" Kelsey joked.

Desmond nodded and took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. "C'mon," he said, and he pulled his guitar out of the backseat. Kelsey followed Desmond across the parking lot to the doors and along the line until they turned the corner of the building and stepped up to the very end.

People had started going inside, and they inched along the wall, moving slowly closer and closer to the door. They were about ten away from entering when the bouncer standing in the doorway announced, "We're full up, people. Sorry, come back next week."

Kelsey looked at Desmond. A couple people walked away dejectedly, one guy started cussing out the bouncer, but Desmond just stood, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "Full up?" he asked, "You're kidding me. You ain't got room for just two more mister?"

"We're full up," the guy replied.

Desmond's voice pitched with an almost desperate tone, "Please, just two more."

"I dunno how else to spell this out for you, kid," the bouncer said gruffly. "We. Are. Full. Up."

"C'mon Desi, we'll come back next week," Kelsey said, and she grabbed his forearm and started leading him away.

He felt frustrated. He'd wanted to bring Kelsey out and she'd finally agreed to do something and now he couldn't get in. He'd been looking forward to getting to see some of the local talent, maybe even scoring the chance to perform one of his own songs - one that he'd written for Kelsey, in fact - but he was cut off. And so close to having made it inside, too.

Desmond was following Kelsey back across the lot toward the car when a sleek car recklessly squealed into the lot. Desmond instinctively pulled Kelsey to the side. "Fucking asshole," he grumbled and watched as the car veered into one of the spaces opened by the guys denied entry. The door swung open like the occupant was escaping a fire. Desmond was took a step forward, about to say something to the driver when he realized it wasn't just a random driver. It was Nick Carter.

Nick slammed the car door and clicked his key remote as he walked swiftly across the lot with long, purposeful strides. He'd spent the ride on I-65 into the city muttering excuses to himself: sure, it was a bar, but it was research, it was songwriters show case night. He was seeking inspiration from the unpublished up-and-comers. It wasn't going out for a drink, it was immersing himself in the art of music.

The bouncer looked up and waved, "Hey," he said, and extended his fist. Nick bumped fists with him. "How's you?" the guy asked.

"Doin' good," Nick replied. "Can I get in tonight?"

"We're full up. But for you --" he winked and reached for the door.

Nick was about to step through the door when he heard a deep voice call out, "NICK!"

He turned around and saw the guy from AA rushing toward him. He glanced at the bouncer, then back at the guy. "Hey," he said slowly, hesitantly. He was suddenly thankful for it being full up inside. This guy - what was his name? Draco? No, that was the tool from Harry Potter, fuck what was this guy's name? It started with a D, didn't it? - wouldn't be able to get inside, wouldn't be able to see Nick violate his one year chip. Again.

"Hey...." he said, dragging out the ey because he absolutely couldn't place the guy's name.

"Hey, remember me? From AA? Desmond?"

"Yeah, course man," Nick said. He knew it'd started with a D, at least.

"Hey, you going inside?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'm headed in."

"They're full up," Desi said. "Anyway you could get me and my friend in?"

Nick's eyes roamed to the person hanging next to Desmond for the first time. A girl. The girl. He felt his throat tighten. The girl smiled, her eyes soft and skin smooth... "Hey," she said, staring up at him, and she could see the reflection of wonder and excitement in her eyes that came from being starstruck.

"Hey Desmond's Friend," he smiled slowly, charmingly.

"Kesley," she said.

"What a cool name," Nick answered, "I'm Nick Carter." His eyes danced.

Desmond glanced between the two of them, at Kelsey's fascination and the intrigue in Nick's eyes and his instinct was to grab Kelsey's arm and lead her away quickly. He didn't have time though because Nick turned to the bouncer, "Hey man, they're cool. They're with me." He waved to Desmond and Kelsey, "C'mon in."

The bouncer stepped aside and Kesley followed Nick like a kitten following a trail of milk. Desmond hesitated. "C'mon, Desi," Kelsey laughed, waving him to follow her, "Don't just stand there, we're gettin' in!"

Desmond hurried after them through the doors and into the hazy interior of the Bluebird Cafe.

Chapter Five: So Play Something


There was a night, four months ago, the last time Nick had violated his one-year chip, when he was drunk out of his mind and passed out on the bathroom floor, that he had a vision. It was the strangest feeling, and something that he'd never told anyone before, but he'd clearly seen her - a girl - as real as if she'd been standin' right in front of him. She'd seemed to glow in his vision and for the longest time he thought she'd been an angel or something. He'd often felt that perhaps he'd been on the verge of death at that moment and she'd breathed new life into him. He'd credited this vision-girl with saving his life, with rescuing him from the darkness that had enveloped him.

The last place on earth he'd expected to see her was in the early evening light of the parking lot of the Bluebird Cafe, where he'd been headed to get a beer and "research" songwriters.

"So Kelsey, where you from?" he asked as they found a gap in the wall where they could stand to watch the open mic showcase.

"We grew up together," Desmond offered.

"So Boston then?" Nick said, not looking at Desmond, just staring at Kelsey. She was smiling at him. "Do you like Nashville so far?"

"We haven't had a lot of a chance to get out," Desmond injected.

Nick continued staring at Kelsey, waiting for her answer.

"Not a lot of chance to get out," Kelsey agreed, nodding. "But what I've seen I really like." Kelsey was facing Nick, Desmond hovering behind her like a third wheel with his big awkward guitar case.

"Nashville's a great place," Nick answered, leaning closer to her. "I think you'll really enjoy it here."

"I already am."

"Hey Nick, it's been awhile."

He looked up and saw one of the owners of the place and grinned, "Hey," he said, "It has. I'm back in town for a bit and just thought I'd swing by the Bluebird, see if I can't find some new material..." He waved at them, "These are my friends, Desmond and Kelsey."

Desmond raised an eyebrow. "You're looking for new songs, Nick?" he asked, for a moment forgetting his concern over Nick doting on Kelsey.

Nick looked over at Desmond, "Yeah, since I'm in town and all. Might as well find some talent."

"I have some stuff," Desmond offered.

"Oh yeah I forgot you said you were a songwriter, Des," Nick said turning back to him.

The owner turned to Desmond, "You get on the list to perform?"

"Where is the list?" Desmond looked around, "I'll perform. I got some songs..." Kelsey was turning between the two of them, her eyes glowing with excitement as the exchange continued.

"Nick, you didn't get your friend on the list? For shame. What's your name, son, I'll tack you on."

"Desmond Truetree," Desmond stammered, "T-R-U-E-T--"

"R-E-E?" guessed the owner. He winked. "Let me get you on there... It was good seeing you again, Nick. Anytime you're in the area, stop by." With that, he turned around and disappeared among the patrons of the restaurant.

"Ooooh, Desi," squealed Kelsey, turning to him, "You're gonna play something. That's exciting." She grinned up at him.

He nodded, nerves running through his veins.

Nick leaned forward to talk to Desi, using the opportunity to put his arm up around Kelsey. "What kind of music do you write, Des?"

Desmond's eyes flashed to Nick's arm on Kelsey's shoulder and he felt a mixture of rage, jealousy, sickness, and nerves tumble through his stomach. "Like pop/rock, kinda contemplative stuff," he said.

"Cool man, maybe you'll have something I can use," Nick grinned.

Desmond took a shaky breath at the thought.

Suddenly the already dim lights dimmed further and the guy that had been over talking to Nick moments before was up on stage with a list and starting out the evening, explaining rules and regulations and introducing the first act... Nick's arm dropped away from around Kelsey's shoulders to clap his hands for the first act and Desmond felt a wash of relief, immediately replaced by dread because that stage looked so secluded. It was all lit up and the focal point of every breathing thing in the room, like being on a pedastal in a museum... Desmond's mouth went dry and he looked around for something to drink and his eyes landed on a backlit bar in the back of the room.

"Be right back," he gasped and he ducked away.

Nick watched his back disappear among the patrons of Blue Bird and turned to Kelsey. "So are you and Desmond... a couple?" he asked, leaning down to her ear as the first act started talking. His voice was low, husky, sexy. It gave Kelsey chills.

"No," she replied. She laughed at the idea of it. Her and Desmond? She shook her head, "Never." A smile danced across her mouth, "Desi and I grew up together. His mom used to babysit me when I was a baby and before school and everything. We took baths together when we were toddlers." Kelsey shook her head, "We're not a couple. We're just very good friends."

Nick nodded. "So he's like your brother?" he emphasized the words.

Kelsey nodded, "Absolutely."

"Oh Desmond," Kelsey sighed, and Nick looked over and saw Desmond had suddenly appeared, clutching a beer bottle, which he took a pull off as he slid into place on the other side of Kelsey.

Nick reached over quickly as Desmond was about to take another sip and he clipped it out of his hand. "I'll take that," he announced. "What're you thinkin', man?" he shook his head. "Hold on. I need to get rid of this." He ducked away, his heart racing. He headed for the far end of the bar, glanced back to see if either of them were looking his way, when they weren'tt, he turned sharply into the mens' restroom and hustled into an empty stall, his fingers excitedly clutched around the glass bottle, hand shaking with excitement.

He took the first sip, felt the tingle of it going down his throat to his belly, his senses lit up like fireworks. He felt like he'd won the lottery as alcohol entered his blood. He felt like Superman putting on his suit and cape. He was all but spinning in an old-fashioned telephone booth. He let out a long sigh of relief. "Ohhh God," he moaned, and he dove into the bottle like there was no tomorrow, like there was no AA chips, no Ringo, no promises to himself to get better about drinking.

One drink was not the end of the world, he told himself. One beer would not make him drunk, he told himself. Just one was fine. It was the ability to control himself, to keep that just one being just one. His ability to limit himself was something he'd always prided himself on, it was the one thing that differentiated him from AJ's plight in the battle against alcoholism. AJ couldn't have just one - just one for AJ led to the entire bar and being passed out drunk by the end of the hour. But Nick -- he'd successfully had one tons of times. He couldn't think of an exact example, but he was sure he had.

Tonight would become his exact example for next time he was asked this question.

Too soon, the bottle was drained and he slid it into the trash by the door of the bathroom, washed his face, and quickly gargled with some water. He even considered putting a little soap in the water, as nasty as that would taste, in hopes of washing away that alcohol scent from his breath. He breathed into his palm and sniffed. It wan't too bad, he supposed.

On his way back to Desmond and Kelsey, he stopped at the bar and asked for some peanuts, which he nibbled on quickly to further mute the alcohol on his breath.

When he got back, Kelsey had her arms folded across her chest and Desmond was looking abashed and leaning against the wall. Nick sidled up and leaned against the wall too. He glanced at Kelsey, who looked irate, then over at Desmond. "I was going to scold you myself, but it looks like Kelsey already beat me to it," he said, smirking.

Desmond sighed.

The night seemed to crawl by as act after act climbed on the stage - some pretty good, some absolutely terrible - and Nick kept glancing back at the bar, wondering if he could get away with leaving Kelsey and Desmond there long enouggh to go order another beer and relish it in the stall like he had the last one. This wouldn't be breaking his resolution to have just one, either, he convinced himself, because Desmond had drank half the first one before Nick had taken it. Hadn't he? The bottle had gone awful fast for a full bottle. Obviously Desmond had all but drained it. So it was hardly one at all. It was more like a tenth of a drink. He could certainly have one more...

"And next up on our stage is a new comer to the Blue Bird. Everyone please welcome Mr. Desmond Truetree."

Nick's attention snapped from the beer to the stage. Kesley turned to Desmond with wide eyes. Desmond picked up his guitar case, hands shaking, and carried it up, stepped up onto the stage with shaky feet, knees like jell-o, and dropped the case probably a little harder than he meant to. There was a thump that resounded through the cafe. He pulled out his guitar. It was old and beat up and missing the pick board, leaving nothing but an oddly shapeed hole where the board had been attached to the front of it. This was something Desmond had done himself on purpose to acheive a particular sound, but gave the guitar a ratty appearance. He slung the shoulder strap over his head, adjusted his hat, and sat down on the bar stool, one foot on the bottom rung.

Kelsey's hands were together like she was praying, her eyes wide and wildly looking up at him. Nick wondered if he could get away with pulling her close in the pretense of trying to comfort her nerves and show his support for Desmond, but decided against it. He didn't want to come on too strong.

Desmond's mouth was so dry he thought it might rip apart when he opened it to speak. "Hello," he said, and his voice came out strange, and sounded foreign echoing through the speakers. "My name is Desmond Truetree, and this is a song I wrote." He didn't know what else to say about it. Everyone else had told stories about their songs, so he added, "I wrote it in a hotel across town this week. I haven't played it before. It's based on a true story, I guess. In some parts at least." He thought that might be good enough, so he leaned away from the microphone and everyone stared up at him, waiting.

He was convinced they were doubting him. If his introduction hadn't been lame enough, they were surely about to break into laughter when he played. He wondered if they had tomatoes available for the truly terrible players and he imagined ducking out of the way of a particularly large hothouse tomato like Fozzie Bear.

"He's terrified," Kelsey murmured into her hands.

Nick looked at her, then up at Desmond. Desmond put his on the strings and he could see them shaking. Nick clapped his hands. A couple people looked around, confused for a second, then slowly they began joining in, and one guy even let out a low whistle from across the room. Desmond looked around, surprised by the cheering. When it died away, his confidence had grown ever so slightly, though he hadn't the faintest why they'd all started clapping. Kelsey turned to Nick, "Thank you," she whispered.

Nick smiled.

Desmond's fingers dropped across the strings and the first note filled the room. He started playing. It was a catchy tune, an almost rambling, rolling sort of feeling to it, and after a few bars of an introduction, Desmond leaned into the microphone and sang in a deep, slightly off key voice...

"Big sky, open up the horizon line
I'll drive all night as long as you're there by my side
We can burn the bridge and become meteors
Anything's possible s'long as I'm yours
So don't you go leaving without me
I wanna go where you go and see what you see
For better or worse and death do us part
I wanna light myself on fire so I can burn in your heart..."

He licked his lips and sat back, playing through into a chorus. He leaned forward again, spotted Nick and Kelsey and closed his eyes because he didn't dare to actually sing this looking at her because he was sure she'd know if he looked at her that it was about her.

Nick knew though without Desmond's eyes being open. He looked over at Kelsey, then back at Desmond whose fingers were flying over the strings, pressing and sliding along the frets like they were made to be there, like they were part of the instrument. Everyone was fascinated with him, everyone was staring up at him. They looked at Desmond the way Nick looked at Kelsey.

Like it was the best thing they'd seen all night... maybe even ever.

Chapter Six: Sounds Like A Deal


Desmond's hands stilled the strings of the guitar to quiet them as he finished the last words of his third song and the room was silent, nothing but a couple snuffles and the scraping of glass on the bar. He stared around, palms soaked, heart beating. And just like that the room broke into applause.

"Thank you," Demond muttered into the microphone and he jumped up, slid his guitar back into its case and high-tailed it back to Nick and Kelsey. He'd melted into the dark of the room before the applause died away, and the owner that'd been talking to Nick before climbed on stage to introduce the last act.

Kelsey sprang herself at Desmond as he rejoined them. "Oh Desi, that was fantastic. You did marvelous," she announced, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm so glad you talked me into coming. That was incredible." She grinned up at him. "I'm proud of you."

Desmond stared down into her face, his heart urging him to kiss her.

"Brilliant," Nick suddenly injected, leaning close so he was nearly between Desmond and Kelsey, "Completely brilliant." He eyed Desmond. "You wrote those yourself, man?"

"I did," Desmond said.

Nick studied him.

Suddenly another guy in a charcoal grey suit sidled over and held out a business card to Desmond. "Hello Mr. Truetree, my name is Eric Smithers and I'm a rep from Tonic Records. We're interested in talking to you about contracting some songs for our up and comers."

Desmond took the card, "Seriously?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smithers, but Mr. Truetree's just been contracted through the rest of the summer," Nick said. He took the card from Desmond and slid it in his own pocket. "I'll make sure our lawyer gets your card though so Desi here can get in touch with you once he becomes free." Nick put his arm around Desmond's shoulders. "He's just become the most in-demand song writer in Nashville, haven't you heard?" Nick smiled.

"Sorry to hear that," Mr. Smithers said. He paused. "Please do get in contact with us once your current contract runs up, Mr. Truetree. We're very interested in your talent, sir." And with that, Mr. Smithers turned and walked away.

Desmond turned to Nick, "What'd you do that for? That guy wanted to give me a job."

"You'll thank me later," Nick replied. "The key to this industry is being in-demand. If you're always available for everything then you're gonna lose value real quick and nobody will wanna book you because they figure they can have you whenever they want you. If you turn a couple puppies down in the name of appearing busy, you become invaluable." Nick studied Desmond for a long moment. "Besides, Tonic isn't that big a deal."

"It isn't?"

"Have you ever heard of Tonic Records before?" Nick asked.

"Well, no but --"

Nick once again used the opportunity to put his arm around Kelsey, flipping an arm over Desmond as well just so it wouldn't be obvious what he was doing, "You got a lot to learn, kid."

"Apparently," Desmond said. He looked around, dumbfounded by the enormity of the industry. He felt overwhelmed.

"Hey tell you what," Nick said, "You write a song for me, and I'll help ya navigate the industry best I can."

"You should sponsor Desi," Kelsey spat the words suddenly.

"What?" both Nick and Desmond looked at Kelsey at the same time.

"Desmond needs help with the AA meetings and with the music industry... and Nick, you're a regular pro at both things, right?" Kelsey asked, and Nick nodded because he would've said yes to pretty much anything she asked of him, and she said, "So why don't you sponsor Desi? It's perfect. And then Desi can write a song for you and everyone's happy." She grinned.

Nick turned to Desmond. "Sounds like a deal to me," he said. And as he said the words, he pictured more nights like this, snatching away half-finished drinks and slurping them down behind closed doors. He pictured long evenings of leaning over Kelsey. "What says you, Truetree?" Nick asked, "Do we got a deal?" He struck out his hand.

Desmond nodded, "Absolutely," he replied, and he shook Nick's extended palm.

Over the next hour, Desmond was approached by no less than seven guys in fancy suits. Nick collected the business cards from them in his pocket and promised them various times that Desmond would be able to help them out - one even getting the line that he was booked straight through Christmas with projects already. Only one person was given the promise that they'd hear from Desmond that week and it was someone Nick seemed to know really well, and probably was getting preferential treatment for that reason.

The cafe drained as Kelsey sipped on a soda and watched Nick help Desmond wheel and deal through the response of the various producers and singers that were in the crowd. She looked around the room at the autographed photos, guitars, and records that hung around on the walls. She was glad she'd come along with Desmond, despite her hesitation back at the hotel when he'd suggested it.

It was nice being out and around people again. It'd been awhile... Luke had never let her go anywhere, and then she was pregnant, and then she was at the hospital, and then... She preferred not to think about the and then.

She looked over at Desmond's back as Nick talked loudly to the last couple of record company suits that had approached them, and she smiled. She really hoped that all of his dreams came true because if anyone in the world deserved their dreams, it was Desmond. He was the most unselfish, sacrificing person that she'd ever known. In fact, the only issue Desmond had ever had was drinking too much, and that was in direct correlation to always giving up the things that he really wanted for the sake of others. He'd given up going to college, for example, to take care of his father back home. He'd given up the perfect apartment overlooking Fenway Park back in Boston to run away from Luke with her, too. So now that he was here, Kelsey wanted him to have everything he ever wanted.

And Nick - she smiled at Nick, too. What a sweetheart. Though they'd just met, there was something about Nick that seemed familiar and intriguing. And not because he was a Backstreet Boy, either, it was a different sort of familiar and intriguing. The kind where you feel like you've known someone all your life even though you've only known them for a moment. The way his smile rolled across his lips, the twinkle in his eyes - these things seemed like things she'd admired forever.

Finally the boys turned back to the table as Kelsey had finished her drink and was chewing on the ice cubes on the bottom of the cup. Desmond clutched his guitar case and Nick was waving business cards like a fan. "Shit it's hot in here," he announced. He looked at Kelsey, "Are you hot?"

"I'm okay," she replied.

"Let's got outside," he suggested, turning to Desmond.

The three of them got up and headed out to the parking lot and Desmond loaded his guitar into the car and Kelsey sat on the trunk of it while Nick stood there watching Desmond load the guitar. What he really wanted was to give Kelsey a kiss goodnight, but that would be moving too fast. He had to come up with a way to see her again, and soon. He looked at Desmond's backend in the car, then turned to Kelsey.

"So did you have a good time tonight?"

She nodded.

"Good. I'm glad." He smiled. Then he said, "You're very pretty."

Kelsey blushed. "Not really," she laughed.

"No you really are," Nick said quickly. "Your skin is great." The moment the words were out of his mouth his brain started berating him. Skin? Really? That's what you're gonna compliment her on? That's really stupid.

Kelsey blinked, not sure if it was a real compliment or a fish for what sort of cleanser she used, and before she could really respond, Desmond came back from putting the guitar in the backseat. He held out a hand to Nick, "Thanks again, man. You were a huge help tonight. You don't know what all this means to me."

Nick grinned, "It wasn't a problem at all," he said.

"No man, I owe ya big time," Desmond answered.

Nick's eyes flickered to Kelsey, then back to Desmond and he said, "It's all good man." He dropped Desmond's hand as Kelsey jumped off the back of the car. "Well, y'all have a good night, I'm headed home. Bed's callin' me."

Kelsey wrapped her arms around Nick suddenly and he thought his knees might give out. She smelled like some sort of flower - maybe lavender or lilac, one of those, he could never tell them apart - and said, "Thanks, Nick. I'm so proud of Desi and you really helped him out tonight. Thank you."

Nick pet her back, electric shocks going through his finger tips at the touch of her. "No problem," he stammered.

Desmond watched uncomfortably jealous until Kelsey let go and headed around the car to the passenger side. Then he turned to Nick. "I'll see you Wednesday then, at AA."

Nick nodded. He paused. "Hey, y'all should come by my place tomorrow," he suggested. "I have a home studio. We can cut you a couple demos. Bring Kelsey. We'll barbeque dinner."

Desmond smiled, "Sounds great."

Nick reached in his pocket and grabbed his own business card and handed it to Desmond. "There ya go. Gimme a call tomorrow and I'll give ya the address and everything." He turned and walked across the parking lot to his own car as Desmond tucked the card into his hat.

Once in the car, Nick took a deep breath. He watched in the rearview mirror as Desmond and Kelsey backed out of the space and turned onto the main road. After a moment, Nick started his engine, and although to head home he should've taken a left out of the parking lot... all the bars downtown were luring him in, and he took a right and headed for trouble.

He promised himself just one.

Chapter Seven: Hangover


Broadway in Nashville was always a mess of neon lights after dark. The blaring music, tourists growing blisters in brand-spankin'-new cowboy boots and hats, panhandlers asking for spare change and the luring smell of barbeque pulled pork wafting from the food trucks by Second Avenue created a blur of sensations that flooded Nick as he parked his car and started walking down the main strip, trying to look inconspicuous. He muttered promises to himself about only having one at whatever bar he landed in - just enough to scratch the itch of desire that was burning through his veins, shrieking for alcohol. One wasn't that bad, he told himself, especially if it would soothe the ache that he could feel all the way to his elbows.

A couple people did double-takes as he walked by, but they must've decided he wasn't who they thought because they walked on without stopping, though a couple of them giggled and glanced back. He was thankful nobody seemed to recognize him; anonymity was something he craved at this moment almost as much as he craved a glass of Jack Daniels.

He found the loudest, out of the way bar that he could find - on the riverside corner of Church and First, and he made his way through the riotous crowd inside to the corner of the bar where he perched himself, hunkered down, and ordered a JD on the rocks. He looked around and before the first sip he found the people filling the bar to be degenerates, with dirty hair and piercing and a certain sort of seediness to them that he recalled once being a part of in Los Angeles. Not tonight, he thought to himself as his 'one drink' slid across the counter into his palms.

But by the time he'd finished his second drink - something that he found much easier to rationalize after the first - the people started looking more normal. They were just having fun, he thought, and who didn't deserve some fun? Doesn't everyone?

By the time he'd drained his third glass he was up and wandering around, trying to find a group that he could foist himself upon to let the good times roll with. He found a guy playing pool during his fourth glass, and by glass number five he'd lost a substantial amount of money and stumbled onto the streets where the air hit him like a ton of bricks and he doubled over by a dispensor of the Nashville Scene and puked out his guts.

The next thing he knew he was laying on the floor in his bathroom.

"Oh God," he moaned.

He couldn't remember how he'd got home, if he'd driven or taken a cab. He couldn't remember where he'd gone or what he'd done after hurling all over the newspaper dispensor. All he knew was that he was now face-down over the toilet seat, his cheek smooshed into the porceline and a terrible stench of vomit wafting up from the bowl. He looked down and immediately puked some more and grappled for the flusher handle, washing the sick away in a hurricane of water.

"Oh God," he moaned again.

Just a small town girl... livin' in a lonely world... She took the midnight train going anywhere...

Nick peeled his cheek off the seat and his head felt like it'd been banged in with a sledge hammer. For all he knew, it had. He struggled to his knees and moaned a third time, feeling more vomit snaking up from his stomach. "Oh God."

Just a city boy... born and raised in south Detroit... he took the midnight train going anywhere...

He struggled to his feet, his knees like gelatin, shaky and strangely disconnected from the rest of him - at least that's how it felt. He gripped the counter of the sink, holding himself up.

A singer in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume...

He suddenly realized the music wasn't just in his head, and he looked around for his cell phone. It was tucked up behind the toilet on the floor and he clicked the answer button, his head feeling like it was full of the Jack Daniels he'd drank and it was swooshing around inside his skull. "'Lo?" he murmured into the phone. The word was out before he realized how shitty his voice sounded and he rubbed his neck, the half-word having sounded more like the sound a frog would make rather than an actual utterance of the English language.

There was a pause. "Nick?"

It was Desmond.

"Hey," Nick answered. He grabbed at the door to the medicine cabinet. He needed something to make the pounding in his skull stop.

"Hey, um... Did I wake you up or somethin'?" Desmond sounded tenative.

"Yeah. No. I mean. Well. Yeah." Nick glanced at the clock. It was almost one in the afternoon. Who the fuck sleeps until one in the afternoon? Although, sleeping until a ridiculous hour was way better than admitting he'd been out drinking. "It's all good. Got inspired last night. Stayed up working on a couple riffs. You know how it is."

"Do I ever," Desmond said. He paused. "Do you want me to call you back later?"

"No it's cool," Nick answered. He pushed a couple bottles of mystery pills aside and found the bottle of ibprofin in the back and unscrewed the cap. He shook two pills into his palm, hesitated, feeling the throbbing in his head, and quickly shook out a third.

"You said to call," Desmond said.

"Yeah," Nick said. He tossed the pills into the back of his throat, turned on the faucet and palmed a mouthful of water to his lips. He tossed back the pain killers and faced himself in the mirror. He looked like shit.

Desmond pressed on, "You said you wanted to give me and Kelsey your address," he reminded Nick. "The demo and dinner or whatever... It's okay if something came up or whatever," he added.

Nick squeezed the bridge of his nose. His mind raced over shit he could say had come up - from the wildly unlikely to the mundane - and was about to blubber out one of the excuses when he had a flashing memory of Kelsey, sitting on the closed trunk of the car, her skin reflecting the moonlight, her pink lips almost lavender in the pale blue night. "Yes," he said, snapping himself together. "Yes." He bumbled out the address, and looked around the bathroom. A shower would make him presentable, some mouthwash to get rid of the alcohol and he should be just fine, ready to play the responsible, sober host.... ready to impress Kelsey, ready to incorporate her into his life. And once she was his, he wouldn't need alcohol, he told himself, not even just one because she would be his just one.

"What time do you want us to come?" Desmond asked.

"Whenever," Nick answered.

"Okay..." Desmond paused. "How about -uh- three-ish?"

"Great, perfect. See you then." Nick hung up quickly before Desmond could say anything more and he slammed the medicine cabinet closed and stared into his own blood-shot eyes, at the purpley circles beneath them, and he took a deep breath. He sprayed a crapton of Lysol at the toilet's general direction in hopes of covering up the vomit stench. Instead he ended up with fresh linen infused vomit, and he made a mental note to not let Desmond or Kelsey use this bathroom whatever the costs. He jumped in the shower and, with his hair still dripping wet, he went downstairs to investigate what kind of food he had in the fridge to offer them.

It only took a quick glance for him to know he needed to head to the store.

Nick grabbed his keys and wallet from the counter and headed out the door. Fifteen minutes later he was cruising through the nearest Kroger, grabbing premarinaded steaks, premade potato salad, corn on the cob, and barbeque sauce. He paused on the aisle by the beer and almost picked up a six-pack before he remembered that wasn't an option. He moved quickly onward.

As he stood in line at the register, he wondered why, as he was still dealing with one hang over, he'd been tempted by the thought of inducing another one. It didn't really make sense.

He threw the shit onto the conveyer belt and the underpaid cashier rang everything up at the pace of a snail. When she'd finally scanned everything in, Nick reached in his wallet to pull out his cash and discovered he didn't have any and the memory of the lost bets at pool flooded him and he cussed under his breath. The cashier raised her eyebrow at him. Nick pulled out a credit card and held it out to her and she swiped it and he tried to recall how much cash he'd had on hand the night before.

Back at the house, Desmond's car was in the driveway and he was leaning against it smoking. Kelsey was laying on the grass staring up at the sky. Nick pulled up behind the blue convertible and stared at Kelsey's form as she lay there, her legs tangled and curled and her figure perfectly accentuated. He swallowed back the urge to jump out and run over and have her right there on the lawn.

"Hey," he said, climbing out of the car. Desmond looked over and dropped his cigarette to the ground, scraping it out with the toe of his shoe. Nick pulled the Kroger bags out and walked over as Kelsey sat up and her hair fluttered around her shoulders.

"Hey," she smiled, "I was looking for shapes in the clouds."

"Shapes?" Nick asked.

Desmond nodded, "She swears she saw an exact cloud replica of Ted -- you know, the Seth MacFarlane teddy bear?"

"I did!" she laughed.

Desmond smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Better looking at cloud shapes than burning my lungs out with nicotine," she said in an accusatory tone. Kelsey looked at Nick. "You don't smoke, do you, Nick?"

He did. "No," he said because she obviously didn't approve. He added it to his list of things he'd have to give up for her. She was worth it. "C'mon, let's go inside."

Chapter Eight: Past is Past


Nick led Desmond and Kelsey through the house to the door that led to the basement home studio. Kelsey looked around and was impressed with the dark wood paneled walls and the oriental rugs and chinese lantern lighting while Desmond oohed over the equipment. She didn't know a thing about sound recording equipment, but it was evident by Desmond's excitement that Nick had a pretty impressive display of it. She hovered back as Nick set up a computer and handed Desmond some headphones and the pair of them worked on rigging a couple microphones to catch Desmond's voice and his guitar playing and Nick pressed some buttons and moved some levers. It all seemed so 2001: A Space Odyssey to Kelsey, she felt like she was looking at the monolith. She sat down in a swivel desk chair near the soundboard looking in at Desmond and Nick in the booth where Nick was demonstrating the distance Desi needed to stay from the microphone for best quality recording.

She looked around at various awards and platinum records Nick had lining the walls. There were pictures of the Backstreet Boys from various eras in the group's history mixed in as well. She felt like she was on hallowed ground and wondered how much, if any, of the band's music had been created right in that very room.

When Nick came out of the booth, he sat down in the chair beside her and grinned. "Ready to watch some magic happen?" Nick asked as he shook the mouse on his computer to clear the screen saver.

Kelsey laughed, "If I understood what you were doing I might be more impressed."

"It's all very scientific," Nick smirked.

He opened up a program and pressed a button and spoke into a tiny microphone in front of him that worked like an intercom into the soundbooth. "So on the first take, just play the chords and then we can go back and get the vocals and then we'll do some background vocals and maybe another layer of guitar." Desmond gave Nick the thumbs up.

Kelsey watched him start a new project on the program and hit record, then motioned for Desmond to begin and with every strike of Desmond's fingers on the guitar, the computer responded, showing a visual of the sound on the screen. Nick leaned back, watching the progression of the chords rise and fall.

"So do you help a lot of new artists?" Kelsey asked.

"Only ones with promise," Nick answered. Of course it helped if they have a hot friend I wanna to bang.... he added in his head. The truth was Desmond was the first he'd really helped like this. There was something about Desmond that was interesting to Nick, his desire for Kelsey aside, and he wasn't sure how to put his finger on it to identify it. Something besides extraordinary talent, that is. Because he certainly had that. It was almost like Desmond was kind of... a friend or something. Like he was a cool guy that Nick genuinely wanted to see succeed and genuinely believed in.

"Desmond's wanted this a long time," Kelsey confessed, staring up at him as he leaned into the guitar. His body curved around it, like he was encasing it. She sighed. "You know, he got accepted to Berklee?"

"Berklee? Seriously?" Nick glanced at Desmond in the booth, then back at Kelsey, "He didn't go?"

She shook her head. "Well he did. He moved in and started classes but his mom died a month later, in October, and his dad had early onset Alzheimers. So when she died, he withdrew and moved back to Brockton and he took care of his father. His dad passed away a couple years ago, but by then the scholarship opportunities had expired and everything."

"Damn. That sucks."

Kelsey nodded. "He taught some guitar lessons at a store in Boston for awhile after his dad died. Then everything happened with me and Luke and he dropped everything, quit his job, and came here with me." She was staring at Desmond through the thick studio glass. "If anyone deserves a break in Nashville, Nick, it's Desmond." She turned to look at Nick. "He really does."

Nick rubbed his knees. There was so much he wanted to ask her about the things she'd just said. Things like who the hell was Luke and what was the whole thing that she spoke of. Instead, he asked, "So what do you do? What do you hope to find for yourself in Nashville?"

Kelsey shrugged, "Peace, I guess."

"Peace, huh?" Nick laughed, "Well Nashville's a healing place. It's a restoration ground." He smiled. "But what about like career wise? What do you do?"

Kelsey looked down at her lap, "I don't know," she answered.

"You don't know?"

She swallowed. "I used to want to teach, to be around kids. Specifically either kindergarten or an elementary grade art class. But I don't know. I don't like kids anymore." She looked away, and Nick got the distinct feeling that she was crying.

"You see vulgar teddy bears in clouds," Nick said, "You're obviously brilliantly creative. You'd be a great art teacher, I bet."

Kelsey shrugged and swiped her eyes with the back of her hands. "It's a stupid profession," she said in a tone that sounded like a quote from someone else, someone she regarded as knowledgable.

Nick had intended to press the topic, but Desmond wrapped up the guitar track in the studio and Nick turned to the computer and the soundboard and talked to him on the little intercom while Kelsey stood up and paced a couple feet away, staring at a picture of Nick with his Backstreet Boy bandmates all stuffed into an old fashioned phone booth in London in the early nineties. She crossed her arms and listened to Nick and Desi speak jargon while she stared at the face of young Nick.

A few moments later, Nick had Desmond singing through the track, listening to his own guitar track for back up, and he came up behind Kelsey. "So who was Luke?" he asked.

Kelsey turned around. "My last boyfriend," she replied. "Well. I guess he was more than that. We were engaged." She leaned against the wall and stared up at Nick as she spoke.

"What made you break it off?"

She hesitated. Then, "He wanted me to have an abortion." Nick's eyes instinctively went to Kelsey's stomach. "I did it," she said, seeing his eyes. "And I wanted to die afterwards. I felt so... guilty. And he hated me, because I was depressed, I think he felt guilty, you know?" Kelsey shrugged. "The night before we were supposed to get married, he came home drunker than anything and I was laying on the couch crying and he was so frustrated with me, he screamed at me that I'm worthless and all kinds of terrible things, and..." she looked down at her hands.

Nick wasn't sure how to respond.

"Anyway, I realized as he was screaming at me that everything that was wrong with me was because of him, from the stress and the guilt to the abortion itself to my inability to do anything or believe in myself and I called Desmond and I begged him to save me, before it was too late and I was stuck with Luke forever and couldn't ever get out." She paused. "And here we are."

"You aren't worthless," Nick said.

Kelsey smiled just a teeny smile. "I used to be happy. When I was younger, I was outgoing and bubbly and people called me a social butterfly. I knew everyone, I was tapped into everything, I was the girl with everything all together, you know, but then everything just fell apart." She paused. "He took all that away from me, and I didn't really notice until it was too late, you know? Friend by friend, he found excuses why we shouldn't hang out with them anymore, and there were reasons for me to stay home instead of working and reasons for this and reasons for that and before I knew it I was sitting home all day looking at magazines and feeling lonely and serving him all night..." She took a deep breath. "Then the pregnancy test strip was positive and I was so excited about being a mother because - well because I wanted to be a mother, but also because it meant I wouldn't be alone anymore." Kelsey had a tear about to fall over her cheek, "I've become worthless," she said. "But I wanna work on that. I wanna be something again. Next time someone asks me what I want to find for myself in Nashville or what I do, I want to have an answer." She paused. "But I don't yet."

Desmond was wrapping up in the studio. Nick felt a lump in his throat. "You deserve it," he said. "Everything. You deserve everything. The world. You deserve better than you've had."

"That's what Desi always says," Kelsey replied.

Chapter Nine: Lightning Bugs


"I... am the barbeque king..." Nick was saying as he dumped the steaks he'd bought onto his colossal grill in the backyard. He'd tied a kiss the cook apron around his chest and had a can of Coke in his fist as the steaks sizzled and hissed. He grinned over at Desmond and Kelsey, who were sitting at the table on his deck, and he closed the lid on the grill and meandered back to the table, where he put down the tongs he'd used to put the meat onto the grill on a tray. He sat and leaned back in his chair. "You ever barbeque, Des?" he asked.

Desmond shook his head, "I'm not a real good cook."

"By that he means his specialty is toast," Kelsey said.

Desmond laughed, "I made grilled cheese with an iron once."

Kelsey grinned, "I remember that. That was good." She looked at Nick, "It really works, just like in the movies."

"Do you cook?" Nick asked Kelsey.

"She's a great cook," Desmond answered.

Kelsey laughed, "Says the guy who can't boil water." She shook her head to Nick, "I can get by, but it's definitely not Che Kelsey or anything."

"She makes a mean Shepherds Pie," Desmond said, "With taco seasoning." He rolled his eyes in mock ecstasy. "I could eat that everyday 'til the day I die, I swear. And this meatloaf with feta cheese. Oh Lord almighty."

"He exaggerates." Kelsey laughed, "It's not that good."

"Yes it is," Desmond injected.

"I fuckin' love meatloaf," Nick commented. "You need to come over and make that sometime." He grinned.

Desmond glanced at Nick and a pang of jealousy went through him as Kelsey blushed and giggled and agreed to make the meatloaf sometime for him. "Only if I'm there, too," he said quickly. "You can't make my meatloaf and not include me."

Nick looked over at Desmond and their eyes met. There was a moment of tension that passed between the two that went unnoticed by Kelsey. Nick cleared his throat and broke the stare down first, breathing deeply through his nose and turning away. "Maybe we'll have some mashed potatoes with it."

"Or scalloped potatoes," Desmond said.

Nick glanced at him again. Desmond was still staring at him with the same intensity as before. He wondered if Desmond had a clue that Kelsey had called him her brother the night before and had laughed and said never when he asked if they were a thing. He wondered if Desmond knew he was fighting a losing battle: Backstreet Boy versus guy that had been categorized as a brother? There was no fight there.

Nick almost (almost, mind you, not quite) felt bad for Desmond.

Nick got up and went over to check on the steaks and the vengeful part of Desmond hoped they'd burn just since Nick had been so gloaty over his barbeque skills, but Nick flipped the steaks and everything looked fine, and the smell wafted over and Desmond felt his mouth water.

Despite how much Nick was annoying him with his obvious infatuation with Kelsey, Desmond couldn't deny that Nick did have some serious grilling skills. The steak tasted like food he'd expect to be served at the Taj Mahal. He found himself almost literally wanting to lick the plate when they'd finished dinner. Kelsey had enjoyed the steak too, and moaned in joy as the flavor had hit her tastebuds in a way that made both Nick and Desmond squirm in their seats.

After they'd finished eating and the sun had gone down, the fireflies came out and were buzzing around Nick's yard, dancing and twirling around each other. Kelsey's eyes twinkled, "I love the fire bugs," she sing-songed as she got up and pranced into their midst, spinning like a toddler, her hair flying out around her, hands in the air as she spun.

Desmond and Nick both stared after her as she went. She was across the yard when Desmond glanced over at Nick. "She's an incredible person," Nick commented.

"Yeah, I know."

Nick looked over at Desmond. "Did you beat the shit out of him?"

"Who?"

"The jackass that hurt her back home?" Nick said.

"Luke? No." Desmond took a deep breath, "I wanted to."

"I would've."

"He wasn't worth going to jail for," Desmond replied. "That's the only reason I didn't. Well that and he's a big guy. Big, big guy. And well." He indicated his arms, "I'm not."

Nick chewed the inside of his lip. "I think I love her," he confessed.

Desmond looked over at Nick, eyes wide. "What?"

"I think I'm falling for her, man," Nick said. He looked at Desmond, their eyes connecting. He knew exactly what he was doing: Kelsey had told him herself that Desmond was a giver, he gave things up for people, he helped others before he helped himself... if that was true then this would work, Nick thought. "Like I feel it in my gut somewhere. I've never... felt like this before. She just hypnotizes me or something. I could watch her spin like this forever. It's like watching an angel fly or something."

Desmond felt his mouth go dry. He looked back at Kelsey. "That's 'cos she is an angel," he answered quietly.

"I'll take good care of her," Nick said. "She deserves better than she'd had in the past, and I know you're afraid of her never getting it, but... Desmond, if you help me get her... I'll take good care of her. She'll have the best of everything. Pretty clothes, pretty jewelry. Flowers. I'll give her the moon if she wants it, anything."

Desmond's heart pounded in his chest. "You don't need me to get her for you, you're a freaking Backstreet Boy," he said.

Nick stared at Desmond. "Your approval means the world to her, though, more than anything I could give her to convince her to be with me. I can tell."

Desmond clutched the arm rests of the chair.

"You're like a brother to her," Nick said. He knew the words would sting, knew they'd hit Desmond exactly where he needed to be hit to weaken him. "She won't trust me unless you do."

Desmond felt sick.

"I do need you. I need your approval, and you know it, Des." Nick's eyes were all bur boring a hole through Desmond. He searched Desi's face with them. "Please. Just think about it, okay?" Nick asked.

Desmond nodded.

Kelsey came dancing back to them, her eyes sparkling as she landed in her chair, laughing. "You two should've come and spun around the lightning bugs with me," she said. "It was so beautiful."

"It was beautiful from here, too," Nick commented, and he winked at Desmond, who was staring at Kelsey, a look of sad resignation on his face as she blushed at Nick's words and her hair fell across her eyes.

Chapter Ten: Cut a Demo


On the way back to the hotel, Kelsey was the one that reached for the radio knob for the first time since they'd left home. Desmond glanced back and forth between the road and her as she turned up the volume and her hair flowed, curling and twisting the way streamers do on the handles of bicycles. Ruby Tuesday echoed out of the speakers and into the night and he imagined it leaving a river of colorful notes throughout the dark behind them.

With Nick safely left behind them, Desmond could feel the shock of Nick's request for help in obtaining Kelsey all the more. It tingled the way being slapped across the face would.

When they left Massachusetts, Desmond had loaded up Kelsey's bags for her, the car idling on the curb in front of Luke's apartment, her mascara seeping across her face as she sat, shaking in the passenger seat. He'd stood on the threshold of Luke's apartment on the final trip out and spotted a photo on the mantle that he'd gone back for. It was a picture of them - of Desmond and Kelsey - when they were little kids, sitting on a park bench together, and he'd pulled it from the frame and slipped it into his pocket. That's where it still was.

It'd never occurred to him to wonder why she hadn't packed it.

Instead, he'd used it as his omen, his good luck charm, the physical representation of the promise that he'd muttered to himself all the way down the stairs to the waiting getaway car - and during every moment that he'd been alone since: he would get the girl this time.

But now he was wondering why she hadn't packed the photograph because now there was a new Prince Charming in town and she was not only apparently infatuated with him, but Nick's mere presence was making her sing to the radio again, making her dance with the lightning bugs. Nick's mere presence was breathing new life into Kelsey.

Desmond felt sick.

He parked the car in the usual place outback of the hotel and he sat with his hands on the wheel as the last notes of Ruby Tuesday floated away before he rolled the top up on the car and turned the engine off. Silence filled the cabin and Kelsey was picking at a stray sting on her top. Desmond took a deep breath and he turned to look at her, every intention of telling her everything that was on his mind, from Nick's request to how much he wanted her himself, but her eyes froze him when they met with his and he choked and instead of saying anything he just stared at her as a smile crawled across her face.

"Tomorrow, we should go apartment hunting again," she suggested, "I'll go along, too. Maybe since we haven't been finding anything near here we can check closer to Nick's? Since he's our friend and all, being close would be a good thing."

Desmond nodded.

"Maybe Nick can help us," she suggested.

"Probably," Desmond mumbled, "The boy wonder seems to do no wrong..."

"What?" Kelsey hadn't heard him, or at least not understood the smeared-together words and she tilted her head.

"Nothing," Desmond replied, shaking his head. "It's nothing." And really, he thought to himself, kind of it was. How was Nick supposed to know how long Desmond had been waiting for his chance with Kelsey? Nick was really just an innocent bystander in all this (or at least as far as Desmond knew he was), just someone who met Kelsey, saw how amazing she was, and was falling for her. That's all. And who could blame him? Certainly not Desmond, who'd met the girl when they were infants and had been smitten ever since. It wasn't Nick's fault was the point, and Nick was doing nothing but helping them.

He'd helped Desmond cut a demo for crying outloud.

Kelsey reached for the door handle and Desmond realized as the door creaked open that the moment to tell her everything had passed without him saying a word, and she climbed out of the car, stretching her arms as she went.

He got out, too, and followed her up the stairs to the room, his stomach doing flip-flops on each step like it was a slinky or something in there instead of a stomach.

In the room, Kelsey pulled her shirt off, revealing a tank top underneath, and announced she was going to take a bubble bath and she grabbed the box of bath salts from her open suitcase on the floor and slipped into the bathroom. Desmond sat on the bed and thought about the purple smell she'd have when she came back out and he fell asleep thinking and dreaming about having the words to say that would make her crawl, all purple and damp and beautiful, into his bed instead of her own. Wet hair on the pillow and all, that was all that he wanted.




Nick scraped the grill clean and shoved the plates and tongs and silverware into the dishwasher before he went down stairs to work on the demo cut of Desmond's song. He sat in his swivel chair and hit the layered playback and listened as the guitar and the vocals played together and he rocked side to side, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Desmond's lyrics.

"Too many tears we cry
Too many scars we hide
Wear your heart on your sleeve
Speak the truth to me
And I'll be there through thick and thin
What we have is something to believe in..."

He reached over and stopped the playback and sat up. A couple buttons later and the demo was burning onto a CD. Desmond was great, he thought. He was a natural talent and raw sound of his voice, even slightly off as it was, didn't need any touching up. Nick pulled the disc out of the burner and put it into a case and scribbled Desmond Truetree demo across the top of it with a marker, then left it there on the desk and went up to his bedroom.

He thought about Kelsey as he laid down on the bed, and about Desmond's desperately panicked eyes when he'd requested help with winning her. A bit of him felt bad for Desmond again. Mainly because he didn't stand a chance. There wasn't a thing in the world that Desmond could do that Nick felt he couldn't do better.

Well except maybe write a song.

As though he were on cue, Kevin's face appeared on Nick's phone, indicating he was missing a call from his eldest Backstreet brother. Nick let the call sail through to voicemail. All Kevin wanted to know was if the song Nick had been working on forever was ready yet or not, and it wasn't so he didn't really want to go through the whole process of explaining why to Kev yet, didn't wanna let him down.

But Kevin kept calling.

And kept calling.

And finally Nick answered it. "Man you do know I'm two hours ahead of y'all here, don't you?" he asked, "Time zones. Respect'em."

"Like you were sleeping," Kevin said and Nick could almost hear the eyeroll in his voice.

"I'm in bed," Nick argued. Not sleeping, but still in the bed. Well, on it, he wasn't really in it as he'd only laid across it. Nacho was sound asleep at his feet though. Nick moved carefully to keep from waking Nacho, an sat up, leaning against the backboard.

"You got anything yet for that song?" Kevin asked.

Nick meant to say no. Really. He meant to tell the truth.

"Yeah, actually," he said, "I just cut a demo today."

"Really?" Kevin sounded skeptical.

"Really," Nick answered.

Kevin was quiet a moment. "An actual, honest to god song?"

"Cross my heart," Nick answered. "It goes - uh - too many tears we cry, too many scars we try to hide, wear your heart on your sleeve, speak the truth to me, and I'll be there through thick and thin, what we have is something to believe in..." he paused because that's all he could remember of the song, and let the words sink between him and the phone.

Kevin was so dead silent for a couple beats that Nick was certain he'd figured it out somehow. He pictured Kevin with glowing red eyes shouting him for plagerism. Instead, Kevin let out a hum of approval and said, "Damn. Not bad. Keep up the good work, kid. Hey give me a call when you wanna share that demo with me."

"I'll email you the file in the morning if you want," Nick replied.

"Awesome," Kevin answered. "I look forward to it."

"Okay. Goodnight." Nick hung up the phone before Kevin could say anything more. He sat there staring at the ceiling, his mind wrapping around what he'd just done. Then he leaped out of the bed and ran down to the studio, Nacho scrambling behind him... He had to cut the demo singing it himself if he was gonna send it to Kevin.

Chapter Eleven: Texting


Kelsey slid under the bubbles in the bathtub, her eyes closed and listened to the hum of the ceramic and the pipes of other rooms, tinny and far away, and imagined not surfacing. Her nose tickled with soapy water and she wondered what Desmond would do when he found her. It'd take him hours to get the balls up to go in and check on her, she thought to herself, hours before he'd find her. She'd be long gone.

She surfaced, gasping for air, swiping at the bubbles that stuck to her eyelashes, her hair hanging down her spine. She spit water that had gone up her nose into her throat and coughed loudly, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. She reached for the drain between her feet and pulled the rubber blocking the water from evacuating the tub and stood, the bubbles sliding down her smooth skin to the tub below. She stepped out, her arms cold, and shivered as she tugged a soft hotel towel around her body.

She'd forgotten her pajamas, she realized, and she reached for the door and creaked it open to peek out at Desmond. "Desi," she hissed. "Desi? Can you toss me my pajamas?" but he didn't move. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, and she thought to herself that it would've been the next day before he would've found her, had she really drowned herself.

Quickly, she scuttled across the room to the suitcase at the foot of the bed she had claimed, and ruffled through until she found a clean set of pajama pants and an old t-shirt emblazoned with the name of some baseball player that no longer played for the Sox. She grabbed a pair of socks printed with little mustaches, too, but one slipped through her fingers and she bent down to fetch it from the floor. As she stood up straight, her grip on the towel slacked and the towel fell away from her fingers, too, and with a squeal, the breeze brushed her entire naked body. Frantic, she dropped all the clothes and snatched up the towel, her face flush, and pulled it tight around her. She glanced at Desi, grabbed the pajamas and the socks, then headed back to the bathroom, her heart racing.

Kelsey leaned against the door, the thought of Desi having seen her simultaneously exciting her and making her nauseated. She pulled on the pajamas and brushed her teeth, taking her time because she was embarassed to face Desmond's sleeping face, even if he hadn't seen her. She bent down and picked up her jeans and when she did, a piece of paper fluttered out of the pocket to the floor. She bent down and picked it up and found it was a folded paper crane. She studied it, then noticed, in tiny letters, the words unfold me were written on it's wing.

She sat down on the toilet bowl lid and unfolded the crane carefully, scared to rip it. When she'd unfurled the last of the folds, she found, scrawled across the center in very messy handwriting, a phone number.

She folded the jeans and carried the paper out to the bed and crawled in. She looked over at Desmond, fast asleep and draped across the bed like there was no tomorrow, and grabbed her cell phone off the night stand. She tapped out a message.

Hi, she wrote.

A moment later. So you found the crane.

I did. Is this Nick?

It is.

Kelsey smiled and snuggled into her pillows. She glanced at Desi, who hadn't moved a muscle since her towel had fallen, then turned back to the phone. She didn't really want Desmond looking at her as she lay there, grinning like a fool up at the cell phone texting a boy that was so far out of her league...

Why you up? he texted.

Couldn't sleep, she replied.

Me either, he typed. Working on Desi's song.

He wouldn't shut up about how cool it was to tape with you, Kelsey informed him. Do you really like the song?

Yeah.

Kelsey rubbed her elbow awkwardly. Good.

So whatcha doing? Nick texted. A moment later, Counting sheep?

Kelsey smirked, and typed, 67...68...69...

69?

Yeah.

Perverted sheep sex?

Kelsey laughed outloud the moment the words showed up on her phone and she covered her mouth and looked over at Desi, asleep, face smooshed into the pillows. You ass. You're gonna make me wake Desi up laughing like that!!! She grinned up at the phone, and rolled over, afraid the glow of the screen would wake Desmond. She hunkered down over the phone settled into the pillows and pulled the blankets over her head.

The phone was quiet and she worried Nick had taken her accusation seriously. Quickly she typed out, You still there?

A moment later, You ever seen the Parthenon?

In Greece?

Downtown.

No?

C'mon. I'm gonna show it to you.

What?

I'm parked outside.

Kelsey's heart skipped a beat and she crawled out of the bed and glanced at Desi as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, tugged her hair into a ponytail and snatched the door key from the top of the TV by his fedora. Desmond didn't move a muscle, even as she slipped through the door, and pulled it shut as gently as she could. She pulled her shoes on as she ran down the steps to the parking lot, and saw Nick's car idling beside Desmond's convertible. She glanced back at the room window to make sure the light wasn't snapping on, and it wasn't. She flung herself into Nick's passanger door.

"Hey," Kelsey said, looking at him, her heart racing. He was illuminated only by the lamps of the parking lot and the glowing neon of the dashboard controls.

A smile spread across his face, sending features of his face into sharp relief. "Hey," he said back.

Nick backed the car out of the space and they rolled out of the lot toward the main street, leaving behind the hotel and everything, and Kelsey realized that this was the first time she'd been somewhere in Nashville without Desmond. The city lights glowed against the black of night and the blue neon of the tips of the AT&T Building seemed to make the clouds glow as they floated by.

"I can't believe you haven't seen the Parthenon," Nick said, driving downtown.

"I haven't been here very long," Kelsey reminded him, "I haven't seen much beside the hotel and a few apartment complexes." She laughed and unrolled the window, sticking her hand out to let it float on the air. She felt a strange freedom coursing through her veins. "The air feels good," she said.

Nick grinned over at her. "Doesn't it?"

Kelsey grinned into the night and, as he watched her, Nick couldn't help but think of Nacho when he hung out the window and left drool streaks across the windows.

The car moved down First to Broadway and Kelsey looked around at the milling people, the bright neon lights of the bars and clubs and the towering Bridgestone Arena. The car moved onward, past all the sights and sounds of Nashville, the wafting scent of burgers and booze and sound of laughing drunk people dancing along the sidewalks to honky tonk music. Nick drove past an assortment of fast food places and hotels, and finally turned down a road that looked like an alley and parked beside a squat building with string lights surrounding the porch. "C'mon," he said, and he turned the car off.

Kelsey followed him as he stuffed a couple bucks into a parking meter. A homeless guy approached. "Got any spare change?" he begged. Nick shook his head. The guy turned to Kelsey, "Any spare change?"

"No, sorry," Kelsey replied.

"I'll drive ya to the McDonalds down the street and buy ya a burger if you're hungry, or else c'mon inside for coffee, but I don't have any money," Nick said, "But I'm sure that's not what you want, is it?"

"Just a couple bucks," the guy begged.

"Sorry," Nick answered, and he took Kelsey's hand and pulled her along behind him toward the squat building, leaving the guy behind. Kelsey followed close, staring up at Nick with a small smile on her mouth. He led the way into the building, which turned out to be a cafe. "You like coffee, right?" Nick asked as they stepped into a line that led to the counter.

"Yeah of course," she answered, looking around.

"Well then," Nick grinned, "You're gonna love this." He stepped up to the counter and ordered two of whatever it was he ordered (it had way more words than coffee in it though), and Kelsey glanced around, feeling a bit like a kid that had run away from home.

Nick turned to her, holding out a cup of iced coffee slush that oozed with carmel and chocolate shavings. "Now... for the Parthenon. It's a short walk from here, is that okay, or do you wanna drive?"

"Walking is good," she said. She sipped her drink, "Mmm, and so is this. Wow."

Nick grinned, "I wouldn't let'cha down."

Kelsey smiled and they stepped out of the cafe to the street, carrying their glasses as they moved along through the night, every step feeling deliciously rebellious in the pit of Kelsey's stomach. It occurred to her somewhere along the walk to the Parthenon that Nick had showed up so suddenly that she hadn't even left a note for Desmond.

Oh well, she thought to herself as she walked, He probably won't even know I've left in the first place. She pictured telling him about all this the next morning and his look of surprise at the thought that she could've gone without him knowing...

Chapter Twelve: What's Your Story?


Desmond woke with a start. He looked over at the adjacent bed, expecting to see Kelsey, but she wasn't there. He pushed himself up from the bed and glanced at the alarm clock, glowing from the night stand in neon red. "Kels?" he called out into the dark, slurring from sleepiness. But no answer came.

Desi kicked the blankets off and tumbled off the bed, leaping to his feet in a movement that only a ninja could replicate. He lost his balance and scrambled to regain it, knocking his hat off the top of the TV on the way down before he managed to recover, stubbing his toe on his guitar case. "Shit," he bit down on his lower lip and stumbled to the bathroom door, his toe throbbing. He smacked his palm against the door. "Kelsey?" he called out resolutely.

Still no answer.

Approximately a hundred million thoughts went through Desi's head as he stood there, palms pressed against the door. His heart sped up, echoing off the cavern of his chest. This was how many of his darkest, most private fears began, he thought, and he banged on the door more persistently, more frantic. "Kelsey! Open the door or I'm gonna force it open!" he threatened, feeling like every organ in his body was in a knot.

When she still didn't answer, he shoved the door open.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting when he'd pushed open the door - maybe blood, dark blueish-red and ominous - but the bathroom was empty, although messy. Relief wahed over him and he slid to the floor, his back against the sink, covering his face as the fear rushed out of him. "Oh God," he choked the emotion down into his throat, sick feeling from all the things he'd envisioned in those short moments. He breathed slowly, steadily, deeply... trying to slow his heart beat. Then he looked up, out to the empty room. "So where the hell are you then, Kelsey?" he wondered aloud.




"Careful of the curb," Nick said. He held out his hand to assist Kelsey down to the street beside him. He seemed to float, he thought, and the touch of her hair was like magic.

"Thanks," she said, smiling as she landed beside him.

"Of course," Nick answered, smiling back.

They walked along the street, lined with closed restaurants and a couple sports complexes with the Vanderbilt logo on them. Kelsey pointed one out, "Vandy's near here, I take it?"

"Right over that way a bit," Nick answered, waving his hand to the left. He pulled out his cell phone, "A little music?" he suggested, waving the phone.

"Sure," Kelsey answered.

Nick pulled up his Pandora app. "Favorite band?"

"Do I lose points if I don't say 'BSB'?" she asked, laughing.

"It's an automatic fail," he answered, nodding. Kelsey laughed. "No really, name a band."

"I dunno... How about The Lumineers," Kelsey said, "But if it helps, BSB get an honorable mention."

"At least we got an honorable mention," Nick laughed.

Kelsey smirked as he tapped in the name and the strains of Dead Sea filled the night as they walked. He slid the phone into his pocket.

"It's a nice night," he commented, taking a sip of his coffee. "This is nice."

"Yeah," she agreed.

I headed west, I was a man on the move
New York had lied to me, I needed the truth
Oh I need somebody, needed someone I could trust
I don't gamble, but if I did I would bet on us
Like the Dead Sea, you told me I was like the Dead Sea...

"So what's your story?" Nick asked, looking down at his sneakers as he sank a little bit into some loose grass as they crossed the lawn of a Methodist church, headed through a bank of tennis courts lit up by pale lamps.

Kelsey shrugged. "I'm not sure that I've got one," she said.

"Everybody's got one," Nick said.

"Well, not a very good one," she said.

"Try me."

Kelsey puffed out her cheeks with a sigh that she let out long and low. "Well I grew up in Brockton, which is a pretty tough area even as Boston suburbia goes... lived in a little house, lots of siblings... I was never terribly important among them or anything, you know. I just kind of was. But we were all okay. We all got along. I mean we weren't rich or anything, I wore hand-me-downs, but we were ok. It was my life, I guess. I was happy, whatever it was. Then my Dad got shot. Downtown, at a little convience store. He went for milk and AA batteries for a fire truck my brother got and he just... never came back. He had a hero complex, you know, he couldn't just play the victim and live; he had to try to save the day, and they killed him." She was chewing the inside of her mouth thought fully.

Nick stared at her, into her almost. They'd come to a stop a couple feet from the tennis courts, the orange-ish-ness of the light glowed down on her, and a tear slid across her cheek.

Yes there are time we live for somebody else
Your father died and you decided to live for yourself
You felt, you just felt it was time
I'm glad cause you with cats, that's just not right
Like the Dead Sea, you told me I was like the Dead Sea
You'll never sink when you are with me - oh Lord, I'm your Dead Sea

"Anyway," Kelsey said, "Everything just kept getting worse and worse from there. I met Luke, everything went on in Desi's life, and I felt more and more isolated and alone until I just started crumbling apart." She stared up at him. Tears were definitely streaming her face now. "I never told anyone this before, but sometimes I feel like those rocks out in the desert. You know, the ones that balance on those impossibly tall pedastal formations? Every year more and more of the pedastal washes away in rains and wind and the rock stays standing but someday you know it's going to just topple over and break."

Nick stepped closer to her, brought his hands up to cup her face gently, and used his thumb to softly wipe away the tears that were building below her eyelashes. The tears glistened, almost like gold under the lamp light. "Hey," he whispered thickly, "It's okay."

"I tried to kill myself," she said.

"What?"

"After the abortion, when Luke was being so terrible... I tried to kill myself. It wasn't the first time. I tried before, when I was younger, when my Dad died. And a couple other times." She held out her arm, showing him a series of scars along the inside. He stared at them, mouth gone dry. "There was just so much inside of me... so much that needed to come out..."

Nick nodded because he didn't know how else to react.

"I thought if I just let it out that it'd stop hurting," she explained. "It doesn't make any sense at all."

"It does," Nick countered.

"Desi helped me," she confessed. "Every time I'm in trouble, Nick, Desi's there."

Nick nodded again. "It's a good thing y'all are such close friends," he observed.

Kelsey nodded, "Yeah it is." She licked her lips, staring up at Nick in the pool of lamplight they stood in. A slight breeze flickered his hair like a flame and she watched until the wind had died down. "You're so ridiculously good looking," she murmured.

"I try," Nick answered, chuckling.

"You've gotta have a flaw," she said.

"A flaw?" he laughed.

"Yeah. You can't seriously be this ridiculously good looking and be so nice, too, can you?" Kelsey asked. "So what's your flaw?"

Nick shrugged. "I bite my fingernails."

She laughed.

"Besides, if that's true, then you must have a flaw too," Nick said, "Because you're gorgeous and you're nice. Let's see your cuticles." He pulled her hand up and inspected it. "Damn -- even perfect there." He grinned.

"I bit them when I was in high school," Kelsey offered.

"Past imperfections do not count as current flaws," Nick teased.

Kelsey wanted to kiss him so bad she could taste it.

But he turned just before she'd managed to work up the nerve to attempt to. She felt a sort of regret watching him walk away. She wished she'd done it - kissed him when he'd been leaning so close... She scurried to catch up to him. The Pandora app was playing music it considered 'similar' to the Lumineers.

"So what's your story?" Kelsey asked, trotting to keep up with his long gait.

Nick laughed. "What's there to tell that hasn't been told a million times in a million ways?"

"Humor me."

He shrugged, leading the way across a wide parking lot, the dark outline of bushes and trees ahead of them. Kelsey could hear a water fountain and ducks quacking in the distance. "Became a singer at age twelve... oversized ego, easy access to drugs and alcohol. That ain't a good combination. Spent the next - what? Ten? Fifteen years? - high to heaven, gettin' fat. Almost died a couple times. Met a girl that made me exercise and lose the weight and quit the drugs and the drinking. Got my heart broken." He shrugged. "I was on top and I fell down and broke. Now I'm working on getting back up to the top. It's a work in progress, but it's worth it." He shrugged, then, as they stepped through some bushes, he pointed. "Look. There we go. The Parthenon."

Kelsey, who'd been about to ask a question, turned and looked and there was the structure. It looked like it'd been transported overseas directly from ancient Greece, looming high in the night with it's chiseled columns and intricate statues along the top. Aside from the spotlights and security cameras, it was easy to forget that one wasn't in Greece looking at the real thing. "Oh wow," muttered Kelsey.

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "Impressive, ain't it? Makes you really appreciate all the crap the Greek-- er, Greekians? -- did."

Kelsey stared up at the intricate detail on the staues. "I wish I knew the stories behind those," she said. "I failed out of my Greek and mythology class."

Nick licked his lips, "I dunno which ones which, but... There's this one story a girl I was -- seeing -- She told me this story one time and, I dunno, it kinda stuck with me. The story, it goes like this where theres this dude, Icarus, and he's like a god or something, and he gets real pissed off, and I don't remember why he was pissed, just it had something to do with a Minotaur. Anyways, he gets so pissed he wants to leave town, right? So he builds these beautiful wings out of feathers and wax and he leaps from the edge of this cliff and he vows to fly as high as the sun. But see, his wings, they were wax, and the sun melted them right off him and he fell into the ocean and died."

"What an uplifting story," Kelsey laughed.

"I think everyone's got wax wings is my point," Nick explained. "Everyone has wax wings and we spend all day trying to decide whether life is worth the chance of the jump."

They stood there, and Kelsey stared up into Nick's eyes. Finally, "Nick?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

He bent forward.

Chapter Thirteen: In a Gazebo


Kelsey was not the kind of girl that did stuff like... well, this.

Nick's mouth was on her neck and she could barely breathe. They'd found a gazebo a little ways away from a duck pond in front of the Parthenon. The surface of the pond was covered with sleeping ducks, their heads tucked under their wings. The moonlight shone on the water, but didn't break through the trees that surrounded the gazebo. She leaned back against the wood bench as Nick leaned over her. He put his knees on either side of her hips.

The last time she'd been in a position like this, it'd been with Luke back in Brockton the night she got pregnant. He'd been a lot more rough about it, too. He always had been rough about sex, but this - this was different. This was nice. Nick's hands were wider than Lukes, and he knew how to put them on her body. She squirmed under him and he pressed his lips along her jawline. He smelled like spices. She wrapped her legs around his.

Nick's hand slid under sher t-shirt, across the plane of her stomach. Electric sparks seemed to shoot through her entire body.

"You're beautiful," Nick muttered between kisses, "Did you know that?"

"You're just saying that," she gasped as his hand slid higher and higher across her belly until his palm slid over her bra. She was suddenly acutely aware of being outside. The Parthenon shone through the trees, though it was so dark in the Gazebo that she could only just make out Nick's face through the shadows, tinted blue by moonlight.

"I'm not, I've thought so since I first laid eyes on you," Nick said thickly.

Nobody called her beautiful. Like, ever. Kelsey's lust-level elevated and she tugged Nick's mouth onto her own and relished the taste of him. He was so delicious and boyish. Her heart raced. She wondered if he could hear it or feel it through her chest.

"God you're hot," he groaned. He slid his fingers under her bra and she gasped.

There was a rustling in the bushes. Kelsey imagined some duck getting an eyeful.

"Do you have, you know, protection?" Kelsey muttered.

"In my wallet," Nick said throatily. He kissed her neck. He couldn't believe it was gonna be this easy, couldn't believe he'd already won. He'd expected more of a fight for this, expected more of a chase, a cat-and-mouse game that would last a month or two at least. God bless the Parthenon, he thought, God bless counting sheep. God bless Kevin for waking him up.

Kelsey's hands shook as she ran them across Nick's shoulders, his fingers working on her chest like he was playing an instrument. He ducked down to kiss her stomach, planning on working his way up... he was pushing her shirt up, revealing her bra, his mouth on the soft spot just below the front clasp of her lingerie, when a flashlight suddenly shone through the dark, blinding him.

Kelsey sat up like she'd been shot at, sending Nick tumbling off the bench and onto the wood floor below.

"Shit," he groaned, and he looked up, squinting past the light, to see a uniformed security guard frowning back at him in the dark.




Desi was sitting on the end of the bed when the hotel room door creaked open at four. He'd spent the last two hours worrying and wringing his hands and playing through various unthinkable situations in his mind. She slid in the door. "Night," she whispered out the crack, and he caught a glimpse of Nick's retreating back as he went back down the stairs in the pale dawn light outside.Kelsey closed the door slowly, turning the knob before it reached the frame to save the click and then gently released it, silently.

She turned around and let out a squeak of surprise, seeing Desmond sitting up on the bed, staring at her back. "Jesus Chris, Desi, you could've said something," she gasped.

Desi waved at the door, "You were out with Nick. You could've said something. Like - I dunno - hey, Des, when you wake up at two in the morning and I'm not there, don't worry, I'll be with Nick. Or you know, anything. A note. Something."

Kelsey blushed, "I didn't even think of a note. I'm sorry, Des."

"Even taking your cell phone with you would've been helpful," he said. He stood up and threw her phone to her. He'd texted it about a hundred times before he'd found it on her bed, forgotten.

"I didn't know I didn't have it," Kelsey explained. "I'm sorry, Des."

"Whatever." He turned to the far bed and climbed in.

"I really am, I didn't think you'd care."

"You never think I'd care," he muttered.

"I didn't even think you'd notice I was gone, you were asleep when I left," she explained.

"I have a thousand heart attacks worrying about you and all you can say is that you didn't think I'd notice." Desi shook his head. "ANYTHING could've happened!"

"It's not like I'm a little kid," she said heatedly, frowning.

"You haven't left the hotel alone since we got here," he said, "You don't know your way around and the people are nice and all but that doesn't mean they aren't capable of --"

"Nick was there, I was safe," she argued.

"Yeah, I knew you were Nick because of the detailed note you left," Desi snapped. "Whatever. Goodnight." He rolled over so he was back-to her and hugged the pillows to his chest, so angry he could almost imagine what it might be like to literally foam at the mouth. He glared into the dark.

"Desi, please," Kelsey whimpered, "Don't be pissed at me. It's been a bad enough night as it is."

Desi wanted to ask why it was bad, but he didn't wanna let his anger shield down just yet. He felt completely used or forgotten or disregarded or something. Who cares if Desmond was worried, he thought bitterly, obviously not Kelsey.

"I almost got arrested," Kelsey offered.

Desi rolled over and sat up. "What? Why?"

Kelsey turned hot pink. "NickandIwereabouttohavesexattheParthenon."

Desmond blinked. "Excuse me?"

Kelsey's face was almost ruby now as she got more and more embarassed. "We went to the Parthenon, which is like really awesome by the way, and then we were talking about Icarus and the wax wings and Nick was so damn good looking and I said kiss me and he did, then the next thing I know we're in a gazebo and his hands are on my boobs and he tasted so good and then there's this cop with a flashlight and he tells us off and we ran like hell back to the car."

Desmond stared at Kelsey. He was hung up on the image of hands on her boobs, and wondering what they felt like. An intense amount of jealous rage was building in his gut toward Nick.

"So yeah it was a bad night," Kelsey said, and she threw herself dramatically on the other bed. "I don't need you being a douche about the lack of a note."

Desmond was still staring unblinkingly at Kelsey.

She looked over, "What?" she asked.

"I just -- in a gazebo?" Desmond said, "Seriously? Sex in a gazebo? Outside?"

"It was kind of sexy actually. Or it would've been if we hadn't been interrupted by a cop."

Desmond had never in his life been more thankful for a cop. He couldn't erase the image of Nick's hands on Kelsey's breasts.

He wanted to rip Nick's hands off.

Kelsey was practically neon.

"Don't judge me, I can tell by your eyes you're judging me, Truetree," she said, pointing at him in an accusing manner.

"I'm not..." he muttered.

"You so are," she laughed. She wriggled under the blankets and stared at him for a long moment. "Were you really worried about me?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered.

"Why?"

"Because, you're my Kelsey," he answered as truthfully as he could.

Kelsey's eyes were serious. "You'd be better off without me anyways."

Desmond shook his head. "That's not true."

Kelsey smiled sadly. She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Nick said he really likes your song," she commented.

"I'm glad," Desmond said, but he wasn't ready to give up on the topic about her being his Kelsey. "You know I really wouldn't be better off without you?" he asked. "I write songs about you all the time," he confessed.

She laughed, "All the dark and twisted, fucked up variety, right? If you write about me, you should be writing death metal songs."

Desmond stared at her. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

Kelsey closed her eyes. "I really like him, you know," she said quietly.

"What?"

"Nick," she said. She looked over at Desmond. "I really like him. He's so sweet. Do you like him?"

Desmond wanted to say not now that all I can picture is his hands on your boobs but he didn't. "Yeah he's okay," he replied.

Kelsey smiled. "He said I'm beautiful."

"I think you're beautiful," Desmond said.

Kelsey laughed. "You do not."

"Yes I do."

She rolled her eyes.

"Really."

"You're a terrible liar, Truetree," she said, and she closed her eyes again and rolled over, "I'm going to sleep."

Desmond stared at her back. "Yeah," he said, "Me too."

"If I leave again I'll leave a note this time," she promised.

"Okay," he said.

And there they laid in the dark, back-to-back in separate beds, both of them thinking about Nick's hands on Kelsey's boobs.

Chapter Fourteen: You Already Have Me


Desi had a nightmare in which Nick was rubbing Kelsey's boobs right in front of him and they were both laughing at him. How could you ever think I'd be interested in you? Dream-Kelsey demanded as Dream-Nick grinned savagely and started ripping Kelsey's shirt off with his teeth. Desmond sat up with a start and found Kelsey still asleep in the next bed, the sun trying to peek through the closed blinds on the window, and his cellphone buzzing with multiple missed text messages.

He was just glad to see Kelsey had on a shirt and that Nick wasn't pulling it off with his teeth or anything.

However, Nick was present, in the form of the text messages.

Hey just reminding you tonight's AA, Nick texted.

Desmond scrolled through three identical messages like that from Nick. The fourth read, Lemme know you got this?

Desi tapped back Got it, thx and plugged the phone back into the charger on the nightstand. He glanced over at Kelsey, feeling almost like he had to keep checking she was still there, and then inched across the room - careful not to stub his toes again - and slid into the bathroom. He was brushing his teeth when Kelsey asked, "Des?"

"I'm in the bathroom," he said.

"I was gonna reprimand you for not leaving a note," Kelsey said. She pushed the door open and he jumped back from the doorway. She stared at him.

"How did you know I wasn't using the toilet?" he demanded, spitting a mouthful of toothpaste foam into the sink basin.

"You were running the water," she answered. "Nobody runs the water when they're going to the toilet."

"People who are having problems starting do," he argued.

"Do you have trouble starting, Des? Is your pee-pee broken?" she stuck out her lower lip.

"No," he said. "I don't. My pee-pee is just fine, thanks."

Kelsey smirked. "That's quite the protest you're putting up."

Desmond turned red and focused on his toothbrushing experience while Kelsey leaned against the door frame, watching as he scrubbed his molars. "You know I really am sorry for sneaking off last night and not leaving a note," she said. She sighed, "I didn't think you'd worry."

Desi spat into the sink. "Well, now you know. I do. I do very much."

"Okay. And I'll remember that and next time I'll leave a note. I promise."

"Thank you."

Kelsey nodded. "Now get out of the bathroom so I can pee."

"I had it first," Desi said in a little kid voice.

"Don't make me beat your ass Desmond Truetree," Kelsey threatened, grining, "I did when we were kids and I will now."

"You didn't beat my ass as kids," Desi said.

"Um yeah, only all the damn time," Kelsey said.

"Only 'cos I let you win," Desi replied.

Kelsey laughed, "Please," she scoffed.

"It's true!" Desi argued, "You were a three-dimensional stick figure, and I was a buff --"

"BUFF!"

"-- worldly man --"

"You were such a dweeb, don't lie," Kelsey snorted. "Buff worldly man. Please. You aren't even a buff worldly man now."

"I am!" Desmond laughed.

"I could still take you!"

"BRING IT!" he grinned and laughed as Kelsey charged at him and grabbed at his wrists, tugging meaninglessly on them as he held them up. He shrugged her off and slipped between her and the wall, "Oh man I can't take it, I can't take the pain!" Desi threw himself down on Kelsey's bed in mock agony and she fell on top of him, straddling his waist, pressing her palms against his chest like she was holding him down.

"Say it, say you just got beat up by a girl," she demanded, laughing because they both knew he could get up whenever he wanted to and she'd go flying.

Desmond stared up at her, "Never!" he laughed.

"Sayyy it!" she hooted, "Say I could take you any time!"

He stared up at her. "You could take me anytime," he said, his voice low with seriousness.

Kelsey grinned, "That's all I wanted to hear." She crawled off him and headed for the bathroom.

When the door closed, Desmond let out a sigh, "You already have me."




"Nick, this demo -- it's insane," Kevin's voice was thick with pride and accelerated with excitement. "When the hell did you get so good at writing?" he demanded, a chuckle to his voice.

"I dunno," Nick said, "I guess in all that time you were gone I like, grew up or something."

Kevin's voice was reverent. "I'll say. This song is so -- mature. Especially compared to everything else you've ever written," Kevin paused. "I'm really, really proud of you, Nick."

Nick felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as guilt settled into his abdomen. He knew he didn't really deserve Kevin being proud of him, but at the same time it felt so good to hear the words. It occurred to him that it'd been a long time since he'd felt like someone was really, truly proud of him, and Kevin had a certain way of saying it that, whether it was earned or not, fed Nick's craving.

"Thanks Kev," Nick said thickly.

"I gotta go send this demo to the other fellas," Kevin said, "We should book some studio time, get this thing recorded... Maybe we could get some work done on a new album. I could see this being a single." He paused. "Nick, I don't say it enough, but you're a good man."

Guilt flashed through Nick's gut like a strobe light. "Thanks," he said awkwardly.

They hung up and Nick rocked back and forth in his swivel chair at the soundboard in his studio, his fingers steepled together under his nose. He wondered what the hell he was gonna do. Some part of him had hoped that Kevin would hate the song after hearing how rushed the demo cut was. But now that Kevin loved it, Nick knew he had to figure out what the hell to do.




Desi was sitting in the convertible outside of the lodge where the AA meetings were held. He watched as people arrived and went inside, as Ringo wheeled himself up the handicapped ramp, and even as Nick's car whizzed into a parking spot like a streak of lightening and he jumped out and ran in. At the sight of him, Desmond balled his fists. He felt ridiculous, sitting there, pissed off at Nick for liking Kelsey. He above all people should've understood and empathized with liking Kelsey. It wasn't like Nick knew Desmond's plans for the future when it came to Kelsey. He just saw an amazing, lovable, beautiful, mesmerizing woman.

But still.

Desmond was a little worried about going in, about talking to Nick. He might say something he didn't really mean, or - worse, but only slightly - whale off and punch Nick in the face for all the boob-grabbing he'd done in Desi's dreams all night. He didn't really wanna end up punching Nick. He liked Nick when he wasn't ripping Kelsey's shirt off with his teeth. So he put his key in the ignition and turned the car on. He'd just go back to the hotel and watch some corny movie on cable with Kelsey and tell her the AA meeting had been canceled for some reason, thereby removing all temptation to level Nick.

He was just about to drive away when his phone vibed.

You coming in or what, dawg? Nick texted.

Desmond sighed and grabbed his hat, tipping it onto his head as he walked across the parking lot toward the lodge doors. AA shouldn't make you want to drink, he thought,but he had a feeling that was exactly what the results of this night was going to be.

Inside, Brad was already leading the group through the serenity prayer. Nick waved to Desmond from the front corner, where he was sitting next to Ringo. Desmond walked carefully over and lowered himself into the seat next to Nick, who winked his greeting at him as Brad was getting to the amen part of the prayer.

Throughout the entire meeting, Desmond hardly heard a single word. He found he kept focusing on Nick's hands, on the big knuckles, chewed fingernails, and wide palms, the long fingers. He pictured those hands sprawled across Kelsey's chest like his dreams and he looked away, his stomach churning. He tried to think of anything except Nick's hands but his brain was a one-track-rail.

When the meeting ended, Desmond leaped to his feet and rushed to the back of the room. His goal was to avoid Nick at all costs. He couldn't handle anymore replays of his nightmares... But before Desmond could escape, Nick caught him by the elbow and held him back. "Hey don't go," Nick said, "I gotta talk to you."

Desmond hesitated, "I'm not feeling so great," he said, "Can it wait?"

Nick shook his head, "It's business," he said, "About your song."

Desi licked his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon. Lemme buy you a drink," Nick said. He froze the moment the words were out of his mouth. It came so naturally, when talking business, to say something like let me buy you a drink, that he'd said it without even really thinking about it.

Desmond raised an eyebrow.

"Of coffee," Nick corrected lamely.

"Actually, I think you had it right the first time," Desi replied, and he led the way out the door.

Chapter Fifteen: Drinking Buddies


It was a dive bar, the kind of place that country singers sat in and crooned about moonshine and their cousin's uncle's brother's broad running away with the dog or whatever. In fact, Desi was willing to bet many a CMT number one video had been filmed within those four walls. Nick glanced around nervously, like he expected to see someone he knew, and Desi waved at the bar tender and ordered two beers and carried them to a table in the corner where Nick was sliding in, back-to the door, and hunkering down. Desmond sat and slid Nick's beer to him. They clinked glasses.

"To AA," Desmond mocked.

Nick laughed and the two of them knocked back their first sips.

"You know the fact that you brought me here is possibly the worst display of sponsorship AA's ever had?" Desmond said.

Nick shrugged, then, making an excuse, said, "I think sobriety is partly about having willpower, knowing how to cut yourself off responsibly. I mean, you can drink as long as you don't over do it, there's nothin' wrong with one..." he took another pull off his bottle.

"I don't even really need AA," Desmond commented, laughing.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Denial?"

"Kelsey," Desmond replied.

Nick started picking at the label on his beer, "Kelsey?"

"I've never had an issue with drinking. I'm not much of a drinker. I mean, I do drink, but it's not an abundance thing. It's not a condition thing. It's more a social thing. I don't drink when I'm sad, I don't drink to medicate, you know? I drink 'cos I like the taste and it's just --" he shrugged. "But Luke, he drank."

Nick had the label peeled off. "The ex."

"Right, the bastard ex." Desi sipped his beer. "Anyway, part of the agreement with coming here was I was gonna join AA and quit completely. She watched alcohol change Luke, watched it change her mother. She didn't want it to change me."

Nick nodded.

Desmond sipped his beer. "It's not like I've been jonesing is my point."

"I sure as fuck have," Nick confessed. "That night at Bluebird, when I took your beer, I drank it," he laughed.

"I think that means you owe me two tonight," Desi said, shaking his bottle.

Nick licked his lips. He legitimately liked Desmond, which was why what he was about to do wasn't going to be easy. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded collective of paperwork he'd had faxed to him from a law office in California. He smoothed the pages out. "I wanna buy your song," he said.

Desi laughed, "Buy my song?"

"Yes, I wanna buy your song - the tune, the lyrics, the rights. Everything." He stared at Desi, trying his best to keep his eyes level, to keep from looking in any way shifty. He cleared his throat.

Desi leaned back, disbelief filling him. He had dreamed of this moment for years and years and years - the moment when he'd sell his first song - and here it was. He stared at Nick, unsure what to say.

"I'm prepared to pay you. Cash," Nick said. "Twenty-five grand."

Desmond choked on his beer.

Nick handed him a napkin. This was the reaction he'd been hoping that Desi would have - one that indicated he thought twenty-five grand was a lot of money for a song. In the world of song-buying, it wasn't. The Backstreet Boys had paid over fifty for a track they never even ended up releasing commercially two years before. A solid hit could make enough over time in commission for a person to retire on, as people the likes of Max Martin could verify for you. But Desmond didn't need to know that.

"Twenty-five grand?" Desmond said, surprised.

"Yeah."

"That's a shit ton of money."

Nick nodded. He didn't want to lie, so he said: "It's the least I could do." This was true. "It's a great song, it's hit quality." True, also true. He took a sip of his beer, watching Desmond trying to process the idea of $25,000, cash. Nick licked his lip as he lowered the bottle from his lips. "What do you say?"

"Where do I sign?" Desmond asked, laughing in disbelief.

Nick pushed the paperwork toward Desi. "Right there."

Desi picked up the sheets of paperwork and stared down at the legal mumbo-jumbo verbage. Phrases like all rights included and all future royalties and compensation swam in front of his eyes.

"Just a formality, you know, signing the paperwork," Nick said. He held out a pen.

Desi shuffled the papers. "Do you mind if I read through them first?" he asked.

Nick felt a wave of panic rumble through him, but he shook his head, "Nawh, it's cool. Course you can read through it," he said. He leaned back in the booth and watched Desi skim read the document. "You can take it home and read it," Nick suggested. "Bring it by the house tomorrow. Maybe you and Kelsey can stay for lunch or something..." The real motive to this, of course, was seeing Kelsey.

Desmond muttered, "I'm working tomorrow."

"Dinner?"

"Maybe." He looked up from the document, folded it, and slid it into his pocket. "You really think I have something in the song?" he asked.

"Why else would I buy it off you?" Nick asked.

Desmond shrugged. He studied his beer for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe to impress Kelsey."

Nick felt his palms start to sweat. "You really do got talent," he said.

"Kelsey told me about last night," Desi said.

Nick swallowed. "And?"

"She's not that kind of girl," Desmond said.

Nick looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she's not the kind of girl that almost gets arrested for having sex in a public space," Desi said. "She's not that kind of girl." He shrugged, "She's the kind of girl that takes bubble baths and watches How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days on cable and makes cookies with little designs drawn on them in colorful frosting. And not even just on the holidays, she does that just for the hell of it. She's the kind of girl that still writes on her LiveJournal account. She's the kind of girl that gets hurt easy."

"I would never hurt her," Nick said defensively.

Desmond took a deep breath. "I've known Kelsey my entire life, basically," he said slowly. "We grew up together. When I turned eleven this thing happened... one day I biked over to her house and she came out the door and she had her hair up in a pony tail and she'd put on lip gloss and she smelled pretty and I don't know if it was really the first time she'd done that stuff or not, it might just be in my head that it was, I don't know. What I know is that I saw her and I fell in love with her."

Nick stared at Desmond from across the table without saying anything.

"And I've loved her every single day since then," Desmond said.

"She doesn't love ya back?" Nick asked.

"I don't know," Desmond said, "But if she ever looks at me and sees me like I looked at her and saw her... I'm gonna be there. One thousand percent. Because I love her, and I'll die loving her." He paused. "If you hurt her," he said, and he leaned toward the table and pointed directly at Nick's face, "I swear to God I will kill you."

Nick stared into Desmond's eyes. "I won't hurt her, man," he said.

"Okay." Desmond sat back and tilted his head back, letting the last of his beer slide down his throat. He dropped the glass bottle to the table top and studied Nick a moment. "That second one you owe me?" he said, "Yeah. I'm gonna be going to get that now." He slid out of the booth and went for the beer.

Nick pressed his palm to the table top, trying to resist joining Desi at the bar.




Kesley was laying flat on her back staring up at the ceiling. Desmond should've been home hours before from AA. The movie hand ended and now Pretty Woman was on TV and she was blowing spit bubbles staring up at the stucco texture on the ceiling, wondering where he was. She shot him a text message but he didn't answer.

She was so gonna rub this all in his face, she thought.

She was just about to turn the TV off and go to sleep (I'm not going to sit here all creepy-stalker like and wait like he did, she thought), when she heard voices - loud and obnoxious - outside in the stairwell. It'd been a relatively quiet hotel experience, save for the banging and clanging of the maids as they got on and off the elevator outside with their big cleaning carts, so the noise was unusual. Kelsey froze, arm aloft with the TV remote. Whoever was yelling outside was obviously drunk, and drunk made her nervous. She hit the power button and crawled to the edge of the bed as the voices got louder and louder, and walked over to the door and peeked through the peephole in the door, just as it pushed open. She only just leaped out of the way before she would've ended up crushed between the door and the wall.

"If there's something straaaange in your neighborhoooood... who you gonna call?" Desmond was singing loud and off key.

"Ghostbusters!" Nick shouted, then continued - also loud and off key, "If there's something weird and it don't look goooood, who you gonna call?"

"Ghostbusters!" Desmond yelled.

They both tumbled through the door, tripping over their own feet. Desmond almost fell into Kelsey and she pushed him back off her and backed away, staring at him, eyes wide. She looked at Nick.

"This place is nice man, this is a great place, I like this place, I've never stayed at this hotel before so I didn't know it was nice like this," Nick rambled loudly.

"It's only like forty-five dollars a night if you round that out it's like almost as much as normal rent almost. But we need normal rent you know? But its kind of sweet too because we get housekeeping here too," Desi rambled. He waddled across the room and laid down on Kelsey's bed.

"It'd be nicer if it wasn't spinning around like this, though," Nick commented. Then he spotted Kelsey. "'Ello there sweetcheeks," he said, and he grinned.

"I thought you two were at AA?" Kelsey snapped.

"We were," Desi said from the bed, where he had his eyes closed and arms spread out like he was trying to steady himself on the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut even more, "Then we had a business meeting."

"A business meeting?"

"I bought his song," Nick said. He waved the contract, which at some point between the bar and the hotel had been signed though neither Desi nor Nick could remember when Desi had signed it and given it back to Nick. "I'm gonna tape it," he hissed.

Kelsey looked between the two of them, "You went to an AA meeting and then you went and got drunk?" she raised an eyebrow, "There's something seriously fucked up about that."

"Irony, it's called POETIC IRONY!" Desi said, shouting the last two words.

Nick knelt down and grabbed the carpet, balancing himself. "Oh Jesus, everything's spinning so much," he commented.

Kelsey leaned against the wall. "You didn't drive like this, did you?"

Desmond looked up. "Did we drive like this?" he asked Nick.

"No man we called a cab remember?"

"Oh yeah." Desmond fell back onto the bed. "We called a cab, Kels."

"Well at least you had some intelligence left in your bodies," Kelsey snapped.

"Aw don't be mad babycakes," Nick whined from the floor, "It was all in fun, just a couple beers you know?"

"This is way more than a couple beers," Kelsey growled.

"Oh. I don't remember if there was more than beer," Nick mumbled. "But maybe. I don't really remember a whole lot. Desi, was there more than beer?" He looked up at Desmond's legs hanging over the bed. "Desi? DUDE, DESI?"

"I'm tired man, stop talkin' to me," Desmond said from the bed.

Nick rolled onto his back on the carpet. He stared up at Kelsey. "Desmond said I could sleep here tonight."

"Fine whatever." Kelsey turned back to the door and slammed it shut, then crossed the room quickly and climbed into Desmond's bed, annoyed. She pulled the blankets up by her face and curled away from the two drunk idiots and hugged her knees to her chest.

Suddenly Desmond was standing over her. "Kels," he said, "You're in my bed."

"Yeah well you were in mine," she answered.

He stared down at her, now that his bout of dizziness was ending, he could feel a little bit of his brain starting to function again, though only marginally. Nick was still passed out on the floor on the other side of the bed, sprawled across the carpet like he'd been shot down midflight. Desi bit his lip, staring at Kelsey's bare shoulder in her tank top, at the blanket and the way it curved around her body like liquid.

"I'm in love with you," he said.

Kelsey looked up at him, "Go to bed, you're talking like a psychopath."

"I mean it, Kelsey," he said, "I love you like the grass loves the sun and the moon loves the night and the whole world loves potato chips."

"Go to bed, Desi."

He leaned down, about to crawl in beside her and she pushed him away, her palm pressed against his forehead. "Go to my bed, Desi," she corrected.

"Okay," he said. "I bet it smells like you..." he turned and crawled into her bed.

Kelsey turned away and hugged his pillow closer to her, tears sneaking out of the corner of her eyes. She blinked, trying to chase them away, and took a wobbling, shaky breath.

"Good night," Desi's voice came through the dark.

The tears officially started rolling across Kelsey's face, and she didn't answer, afraid her voice would break if she tried, and hugged the blanket closer.

Chapter Sixteen: Good Morning Assholes


The blinding light of day seared Desmond's eyes and he squeezed them shut and pulled a pillow over his face. "Good morning assholes!" Kelsey's voice was loud. She was shouting. Nick covered his ears. "Up! Get up!" Kelsey grabbed the pillow from Desmond's face, walked around the bed and gently kicked the side of Nick's head. "Up!!"

"Leave me alooooone," Nick whimpered, covering his face with his hands to protect himself against the onslaught. "I want to diiiiiie."

"Should've thought of the morning after before you both drank yourselves into oblivion," Kelsey reprimanded them. "Now get the fuck up, both of you." She tugged the blankets off the bed Desi was laying on. He curled into fetal position. "UP!" She grabbed Nick's hands off his face.

"You're a hell woman!" Desi said from the bed.

"You both owe me huge for putting up with your drunk asses last night," Kelsey replied. "Thumping in here after midnight singing the bloody Ghost Busters theme and claiming you only had a couple beers. Give me a break. I wasn't born yesterday."

Nick opened his eyes marginally. The sunlight outside was pouring in through the wide-open window and Kelsey was standing over him.

"Up," she said.

Desi sat up slowly, his stomach churning with every centimeter he shifted. He stared over at Kelsey, who had her hands on her hips, glaring down at Nick. "We were singing the Ghost Busters song?" he asked.

"Loudly. Off key." Kelsey replied. She pointed at a tray with three McDonalds cups and a bag that was stained by grease sitting on the dresser beside the TV. "Black coffee and breakfast. Maybe that'll help you two with the hangovers."

Nick covered his eyes again. "So would some dark and quiet."

Desi moved so his legs hung over the side of the bed and rubbed his ear with his baby finger. He looked around the room. He couldn't quite recall how he got there.

"We don't have time for dark or quiet today," Kelsey said, "Because we have to go get both your cars and Desmond's gotta work."

"Fuck the cars," Nick muttered. He closed his eyes again.

"GET UP!" Kelsey yelled.

"Holy volume Batman," Nick said. "You aren't the nurse-your-wounded-men-back-to-health time, are you?"

"I see no men in this room," she replied coldly. "I'm going to take a shower and by the time I get back out you both better have eaten breakfast and be ready to go get the cars." Kelsey eyed them both. "I mean it." She turned and walked into the bathroom.

When the door closed, Nick rolled onto his stomach. "Fuck man, close the damn blinds," he said to Desi.

Desmond got up and pulled the blind shut, cutting the sunlight pouring into the room. He walked over to the dresser and picked up one of the coffee cups and unrolled the top of the bag. Nick meanwhile flopped back down onto his back. Desi pulled out an Egg McMuffin and unwrapped it, biting into it quickly. He looked over at Nick, who was spreadeagled on the floor. "She'll seriously find some way to make your life a living hell if you don't get up," Desi warned him.

"Did you hear her shouting, man? Why did she have to shout?" Nick whined.

"Like I said, she'll make your life a living hell," Desi replied.

Nick struggled to his feet and joined Desi at the dresser, pulling out his own identical sandwich and coffee. "What in hell did we get into last night?" he asked Desi as he started eating.

Desmond was picking the egg off his sandwich. "I dunno," he said, "But it fucked us right up, that's for damn sure. Do you even remember getting back here?"

"There's a blur of a cab in my memory," Nick replied. "Don't you like egg?" he pointed at Desi's pile of rejected egg in the wrapper on the dresser.

Desi shrugged, "It's not my favorite."

Nick sat on the end of the bed and chewed his sandwich slowly, staring down at his feet. "You know, whenever I wake up the morning after... I wish I had never gone drinkin' in the first place," he confessed. He closed his eyes.

Desi was still picking egg off his sandwich.

"Except the time I saw her," Nick muttered, more to himself, having almost forgotten Desi was even there.

"Who?" Desmond asked.

Nick opened his eyes. He looked up at Desi. "This one time," he said, "When I was real drunk, I passed out on the floor in the bathroom back home in LA and I woke up and I --" he paused, not wanting to seem like a complete and total nutjob. "I saw a girl," he said slowly.

"Like -- what? A hallucination?" Desi wiped the egg grease onto his pant leg. He wasn't even looking at Nick.

"More like... an angel or something," Nick replied.

Now Desi looked over at Nick, eyebrow raised.

Nick shrugged, "It sounds crazy, I know."

"A little, yeah," Desmond replied.

The bathroom door opened and Kelsey came out in PJ pants and a strappy tank top. She had her hair wrapped up in a towel balanced on her head. She looked from Nick to Desmond. "Congratulations on peeling your sorry asses off the floor and bed sheet," she said hotly. She crossed the room and bent over her suitcase, digging for an outfit.

Nick stared at her ass.

"I'm sorry about... whatever we did last night," Desmond said.

Kelsey didn't even look up, "Mmhm," she mumbled.

"Really," Desmond said.

"Yeah," Nick agreed.

Kelsey turned, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in her fist. "You're both lucky I didn't kick your sorry asses right back out the damn door," she commented. She sighed, her face softening at the reprimanded looks on both their faces. "Here, have some Advil." She pulled a bottle out of her suitcase and unscrewed the cap, tapping two pills into each of their hands.

Nick knocked the pills back, washing them down with his coffee.

"Thanks," Desi said.

Kelsey looked at him, her eyes lingering too long, "You're welcome," she said. She paused. "So neither of you remember anything about last night? Anything you said?"

Nick shook his head. "Did we say stupid shit?"

Kelsey was still staring at Desmond. "Not really, no," she replied, and she turned away, headed back into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

Nick turned to look at Desmond. "Dude, one of us said something really stupid last night," he said, panic in his voice. "Why else would she ask that?"

"I dunno," Desi answered, a sinking feeling washing over him.

"What do you think we said?" Nick asked, thinking of the plans he'd had for the contract, thinking of how he was tricking Desi into selling out all the rights to the song. He wondered if he'd told Kelsey his plans, if she was now gonna tell Desi...

"I dunno," Desi answered, thinking of the way that he'd been holding back the words I love you since they crossed the stateline. He swallowed back the worry.

When Kelsey came back out of the bathroom again, both the boys stared at her, hoping she'd say something that would reveal which of them had said something stupid and what it'd been. "C'mon," she said, "Let's go get the cars." She grabbed her purse and waved for the two of them to follow, which they did.

In the cab, the boys gave the driver the address to the bar they'd been in the night before. As they rode, Nick sat, slouched down, his eyes covered with the palm of his hand. Desi tilted his fedora to block the light from the side. Kelsey looked between the two of them. "I hope you're both proud of yourselves right now," she commented.

"Not particularly," Nick muttered.

"I just wanna get something straight with both of you," she said, clearing her throat, "This is the last time I put up with this crap from either of you. The next time this happens, I'm done. Capiche?"

Desmond nodded, and Nick followed suit.

Kelsey folded her arms across her chest. "I care about both of you too much to even begin to watch you destroy yourselves or each other."

It was as they were getting out of the cab at the bar and Nick was tossing the driver the money for the fare when he dropped the bundle of papers that was in his pocket. He picked them up and unraveled them as the cabbie dug for the change. It was the contract, the one stating Nick would pay Desmond $25,000 for all rights, including authorship and future compensation. And it was signed.

Eyes wide, and glued to the cursive swirl of Desmond's name across the line at the bottom of the page, Nick started backing out of the car, folding the contract and replacing it in his pocket.

"You don't want your change?" the cabbie asked, holding up a fifty.

"Nawh," Nick replied, patting his pocket, "I got what I wanted right here." He closed the door and the cabbie drove away as Nick turned back to Kelsey and Desi, who were looking around.

"Not to sound cliched and so painfully 1999 that it hurts but..." Desi paused. "Dude, where's your car?"

Chapter Seventeen: You Can't Fire Me, I Quit


It took over an hour to figure out Nick's car had been impounded and then to catch another cab ride to the lot. Nick wasn't as jolly this time as he waited impatiently for his change from the driver and slammed the door before turning to face the lot. A $500 fine later and the three of them were in Nick's car, zooming down I-65 to pick up Desi's car. Nick idled behind his back bumper as Desi got out and held the door open for Kelsey to follow.

"C'mon, I gotta drop you off and head to work," Desmond said, waving for her to slide out of the car. He glanced at his watch. "Or maybe you gotta drop me off, I'm running late."

Nick leaned over and caught her just before she followed Desmond. "Hey, stay with me. I'll show ya around Nashville some more," he suggested. "Then Desi's got his car and stuff."

"You're hung over," she replied.

"So stay with me and we'll go get more coffee and -- I dunno. Something," Nick said. "You can drive." He took his hands off the steering wheel.

Kelsey looked at the wheel of the car, at the fancy levers and shift sticks and glowing control panel. It was like driving the future. She'd always been at least a little bit of a car girl at heart... "Okay." She looked back at Desi. "I'll see ya."

"Oh." Desi nodded, "Right. Well I'll be home after work," he said, feeling slightly deflated.

Kelsey grinned, "Right okay. Don't wait up," she laughed, and scooted over Nick's lap as he slid across into the passenger seat.

Nick grinned up at Desmond. "No worries, man, I'll take care of her." He winked.

"Have fun at work," Kelsey chriped as she revved the engine. And without further hesitation, they pulled away.

Desi watched them go and rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the tailgate of the car disappearing in the traffic. He sighed, a feeling of frustration seeping around in him as he climbed into his own car and drove to the McDonalds. He wasn't in the uniform, but at this rate he was gonna be late if he'd gone home to change, so he showed up in his jeans and wrinkled t-shirt.

The manager was there as he walked in and eyeballed him as he rushed past to the locker room.

Desi threw an apron over his head, wrapping the strings around his narrow waist twice before tying it off. It shouldn't matter what he wore, he thought, since all he ever did was work prep behind all them big machines where nobody could see him.

He made it through most of the day okay until there was a spill out in the lobby and he had to go out and mop the Hi-C off the floor by the Playland entrance and Rick, his boss came out and raised his eyebrow at Desi's jeans. "Where's your uniform?" he asked, following Desmond back to the maintenence closet.

"Didn't have time to change, sir," Desi replied.

Rick clucked his tongue in disapproval and said, "Not enough dedication to the job?"

"Just running late," Desi replied. He wished Rick would just leave him alone.

"Out partying too long last night?" Rick asked.

Desi shook his head no even though the answer was yes. He ran the water, wringing out the mop so the Hi-C wouldn't get sticky all up in it.

"You're doing that wrong," Rick commented.

Desi held his breath a second to keep patience, "How else do you wring out a mop?" he questioned.

Rick reached around and started doing it and Desi watched. He wanted to push Rick into the basin. The guy had given Desi a hard time since he'd started at the McDonalds, and Desi's head still hurt from the hangover despite the coffee and Advil that Kelsey had provided - not to mention the stress of thinking what Nick had intended for them to do all day. He kept picturing crazy things, things that would draw Kelsey further away from him. He envisioned Nick whisking her away to like fucking Italy or something for lunch, like they do in those ridiculous movies when the billionaires bring their dates somewhere outrageous on the spur of the moment for some small thing. And here was Rick being a tool because Desi had worn denim instead of black slacks to McDonalds to assemble burgers and mop up Hi-C some five year old with snot dripping out of his nose has dropped on the floor.

And criticizing how he was wringing out a mop.

"There, that's how you do it." Rick stepped back, and hoisted the mop at Desi. "Here. Get this shit put away and come on back to the line, we're falling behind, it took you long enough to get the damn spill cleaned up..." and he wandered out of the maintence closet.

Desi bit his lips and counted to ten as Rick's footsteps faded out in the hallway, then he chucked the mop into the bucket and kicked the bucket across the room. It rolled into the corner where it belonged anyways but it felt good to get the frustration aired. Desi figured he'd earned a smoke break whatever Rick had said about the assembly getting backed up.

Desi shoved his way out the back door of the restraunt and hunkered down behind the dumpster. When he pulled out the cigarettes, though, he found with them a folded paper. So he lit up and stuck the thing in his mouth and took a long drag as he unfolded the paper.

There was a ton of money in there. He choked. The cigarette dropped to the ground and he quickly stamped it out. There was five thousand dollars in his hands. Five thousand and the signed contract promising the other twenty-thousand pending would be paid by the end of the week in cash. He stared at the paper, at his scrawling signature above Nick's, dated the night before, at the money sitting in his palm...

The back door of the restaurant burst open and a girl he worked with stepped out. "Desmond? Rick's lookin' for you."

"Course he is," Desi muttered.

"He's pissed off," she said, and she went back inside.

Desi stared at the money, then glanced back at the restaurant.

Twenty-five thousand dollars could hold him over until he could find a new job, he realized.



Kelsey drove the car, with Nick's instructions, back to the house in Cool Springs. They stopped to get some Chinese food and put on a DVD and sat on the couch talking through the movie like it wasn't even playing. Nick liked the way Kelsey sat with her legs tucked under her, and way she dug through the container of rice before taking a bite every time. He smiled like a lovesick twelve year old at her whenever she looked away and was sure the expression in his eyes was screaming I love you at her every time she looked up at him.

The only thing he didn't like was her fascination with Desmond. She wouldn't stop talking about him. Every time that Nick brought up a topic, Kelsey would get talking and somehow Desi ended up in every story she told. At least he knew that it wasn't because she was trying to talk about him a lot, it was just that their lives were obviously so intertwined that there was no separating the two. It was like they were conjoined twins.

Nick wanted to be part of her stories like Desi was. He wanted his to be the name that came up every time she spoke, wanted to create memories with her that didn't include Desmond. He pictured sweeping her off to some amazing experience, something that she'd talk about a lot and people would be impressed and she'd say his name in the story every time she told it...

It was almost eight at night when Kelsey looked at her phone. "God, where has today gone to?" she laughed.

Nick smiled, "Time flies when you're having fun, they say."

"I should go back to the hotel," Kelsey said, stretching her arms and standing up. "Desi's gonna expect me there when he gets back, and I want to take a bath before he gets back." She started gathering the Chinese food containers.

Nick stood and collected a couple too, though much more slowly than her. He didn't want her to leave and he started trying to think of some way to keep her there a little longer. "You could take a bath here," he blurted. She looked up, surprised. "My bath tub's probably better than some shitty hotel tub," he added.

Kelsey laughed, "You aren't even sure?"

"I never use the damn thing," he confessed.

Kelsey's eyebrow went up.

"I don't -- take baths," Nick said awkwardly. He paused as Kelsey's eyebrow raised even higher. "I mean I clean myself. I'm a shower guy. That's what I mean."

Kesley laughed. "Well, I mean... the tub at the hotel does kind of suck..."

"I'm sure there's like bubble bath or something somewhere in my bathroom, too, my ex used to use the tub a lot. She probably left bath soap or something."

Kelsey smiled. "Ah, using the ex's soap."

"Well I mean if you wanna get soap we could go buy soap for you."

Kelsey shook her head, "Used soap is okay."

Nick smiled.

"So where is this mythical bath tub at?" she asked.

"Upstairs."

They put the Chinese food containers in the kitchen, and Nick led Kelsey up the stairs, past the studio they'd been in before, to the bedroom. Everything in his room was black and blue or steel and dark. Nick crossed the room and flung open a pair of french double doors to what was possibly the largest bathroom Kelsey had seen in her life. She stared around it. "Shit, this is bigger than the whole hotel room."

Nick laughed and walked over to a bath tub so big it had steps to get into it.

"Christ is that a bath tub or a damn jacuzzi?" Kelsey questioned as he turned it on.

He turned to face her, "The jacuzzi's outback." His tone was serious. Kelsey stared at him, unsure if it was a joke or not. Nick grinned. He was kidding, but he could tell she wasn't sure, and he liked the uncertainty that danced in her eyes. He got up and pulled open the cupboard under the sink and found a box of bath soap. He handed it to her, "Here," he said.

"Thanks," she replied.

Nick smiled, "Enjoy."

"Thanks," she said again, and he backed out of the bathroom.

Kelsey looked at the tub. It was giant. She poured in some soap and adjusted the water and glanced around. There were a bunch of candles on various shelves throughout the room, so she opened a couple drawers 'til she found matches and lit all the candles and shut off the light. The room glowed warm and orange and smelled like the cherry blossom scent of the soap and she crawled into the tub, her heart racing as she thought about how insane it was that she was getting into the bath tub at a Backstreet Boy's house.



Desi trudged up the steps to the hotel room several hours early.

He couldn't believe he'd quit his job. Despite the heavy wad of cash in his pocket, he still felt wildly irresponsible and just a little bit crazy, but it was over now. He'd gone inside the restaurant to Rick screaming at him that he was fired and he'd shouted right back, "You can't fire me, I quit!"

He'd always wanted to shout that line.

He pushed open the hotel room door, and stepped inside, half expecting Kelsey to be there, but finding the room empty and just as they'd left it that morning. So she was still out with Nick then. He wandered around the room, neatening it up before sitting on the bed and turning the TV on. He glanced at the clock and realized she didn't know he would be out so soon from work. He was supposed to be there several more hours.

Home early, if you guys wanna come get me, maybe we could all hang together, he texted to her and he waited for a reply.

Chapter Eighteen: The Bath


Nick was downstairs putting the food in the fridge when his phone started vibrating on the counter. It was Desi. Nick picked it up, "Hey man."

"Hey... I texted Kelsey a few minutes ago and she didn't answer. Just checking in everything's okay," Desmond sounded nervous.

"Yeah it's all good. She's taking a bath," Nick said.

Desmond was quiet a moment. Nick smirked to himself at the thought of what Desi was picturing. He'd spent the last fifteen minutes trying not to picture it himself and he knew he'd spent at least fifteen minutes later on in bed picturing it after she'd left. It was hard to ignore the fact that she was just above him, completely naked... but if he thought too much about it he'd be in need of an ice-cold shower.

"Oh," Desi finally managed to get out.

"I thought you worked 'til like eleven or something she said?" Nick asked.

"I uh, was supposed to," Desi said, "But I got out early."

"Sweet deal," Nick said.

"Yeah." Desi was quiet. "Hey, thanks again for the song deal," Desi said. He hoped this would encourage Nick to reply with the exact time he could expect the other twenty-thousand, but it didn't.

"Hey no problem, it's a good song," Nick answered. "Anyways I'll bring Kelsey back when she gets out," he said.

Desi sighed, "Okay."

"Bye man," Nick said, and he hung up.

He put the phone down on the counter and threw the dishes they'd used into the washer.

He felt guilty for Desi's excitement about the song. He knew he was screwing Desmond over. He wondered how long he could keep that secret from Desi, and what would happen if he found out what a song like that was really worth. Nick's palms got sweaty thinking about it and he busied himself turning off the TV and putting the DVD away.

It wasn't until he realized it'd been over an hour since Kelsey had gone upstairs that he finally decided it was time to stop delaying her from going home. He jogged up the steps and walked into the bedroom, the entire way imagining a scenario where he rounded the corner and saw her standing there all naked and stuff but it didn't happen.

Instead he knocked on the door, "Kels, Desi just called, was wonderin' when you'd be back?" He paused, leaning against the door. No answer. "Kelsey...?" Nothing. "Kels?"

Kelsey had her ears under the water. That's why she didn't hear it when Nick called, didn't hear it when the door opened. She opened her eyes and found his shadow looming over her, looked up and his eyes were covered as he looked away, "Kelsey?" he called.

She stared up at him, her instinct to curl into a ball so he couldn't see her, and she pressed herself against the wall of the tub nearest him, her breasts hidden by the ceramic. "I'm okay," she replied.

"Okay. Sorry. Just, you were quiet and... I called you..." he said, his voice faltering. He uncovered his eyes but he was still looking away.

Kelsey said, "Sorry. I was under the water. Washing my hair," she added.

Nick nodded, "Okay. Sorry. I don't wanna interrupt. Just Desi called. It's all good, I'll tell him you'll call him after."

He started to walk away.

Kelsey bit her lip as a strange, almost lonely feeling filled her. "Wait," she said. And he paused in the doorway, hands on the frame. She felt her heart rate increase, her stomach did a couple backflips. She drew a deep breath, in disbelief she was about to say what she was about to say. "There's r-room."

Nick stared into the dark of the bedroom, his shoulders extended in his grip of the door frame. He swallowed, and closed his eyes, processing what she was suggesting. He turned slowly back, his eyes opened and met hers, and they stared into each other's faces. His palms sweat just thinking of the fact that behind the bathtub wall was the rest of Kelsey, completely naked and asking him to join her. He stepped back into the candlelit bathroom and closed the door and she sank back into the bubbles of the tub, the briefest flash of the top of her chest registering in Nick's peripheral vision.

He reached for his shirt, acutely aware of her eyes on him as he peeled it away, and he felt self conscious, though he knew the reaction most women had when he pulled his shirt away was positive, there was something more pressuring about pulling it off in this sort of situation than in front of a camera or on stage... Here, he supposed, it wasn't an act of showmanship, here it was the real deal, and that made him more vulnerable.

It was crazy, she realized, that this was happening. Downright insane, even.

But she wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted this to get out of hand, for things to happen.

Kelsey watched until he put his hands to the waistband of his sweats, then she sank into the water until only her nose was above. Nick pushed down the sweatpants and slid into the water at Kelsey's feet, their legs touching under the water. He wasn't a bath kind of guy (stuff floats in baths, if you know what I mean) and the sensation of the warm water coupled with the energy of her presence coursed through his veins. He grabbed onto her foot under the water and rubbed her ankle and she lifted her face out of the water, still hovering among the bubbles. She grinned at him, her face all flushed from the water having touched her face.

"You're so far away," she said.

Nick laughed. He hadn't been sure how close she wanted him when he'd joined her, so he slid up the length of her so they were laying side by side in the tub, which thankfully wasn't as small as most tubs and therefore fit them both comfortably. Kelsey turned to him. He still couldn't see anything because of all the bubbles (damn soap), but he felt her chest press against his under the water, felt her leg slide between his, felt her wet, slippery fingers slide across his skin. He felt like he'd swallowed a bunch of those soap bubbles and they were all fighting for top spot in his esophagus. He stared into her eyes.

Her hand left the water and she slipped a bit of his hair back and then laid her palm on his cheek. He felt the heat entering his skin from the water and she smiled as he flushed. After a few minutes, she took her hand off his face and rolled onto her back, her head on the inflatable pillow she'd suction-cupped to the inside of the tub, and he leaned over her and kissed her and she slid her hands down his side as he straddled her and the water fell from his back like Niagara as he lifted himself out of the water leaning over her.

She laughed and sank under the water, her hair floating like a sea creature around her face, her eyes squeezed shut, little bubbles coming out of her nose, and he watched her for a second before pressing his face through the surface and kissing her. They resurfaced with their lips attached, her hair streaming water across her face, his hanging limp in the front. And Nick pulled her close so their bodies met, pressed against one another. He slid his hand to the small of her back and she felt his pelvis against hers.

She closed her eyes as he slid into her and bit her lip to keep from crying out. It was the first time she'd been with anyone except Luke, and he'd always been so rough, she wasn't expecting the degree of gentleness that came with Nick's brand of making love. She opened her eyes and met his. He was staring directly into her, as though seeing her soul. "Are you okay?" he asked, the words riding his breath, his chest heaving with each inhale.

She nodded.

"We don't gotta -- if you don't wanna ---" he said.

"I wanna," she replied.

He continued staring at her as he moved and she gasped and pushed her palms against the walls of the tub and tilted her head back into the inflatable pillow, her mouth open in a gasp. Nick kissed her chin softly, and then along her jawline to her ear, and he whispered words into her ear - good words, gentle, soothing words. Words she couldn't string together in her scrambled mind but that she knew meant beautiful things. Words that should've been a song, she thought.

When they were finished, Nick just held her until the water started getting cold and she shivered a little and he laughed and helped her up. He got out and grabbed a big fluffy thick towel and wrapped it around her. He grabbed one for himself, wrapping it around his waist, and then turned back to her and helped her pat away the water that dripped from her hair across her shoulders and down her legs. He kissed her when they were done, pulling her to him with the towel around her back.

She slept sound that night among the dark blue and black blankets that covered Nick's bed, the darkness complete as the cicadas chirruped out the open window and the ceiling fan hummed overhead. It was like a dream and she kept imagining waking up in the hotel to the sound of Desi's snorts and snores... a sound that she sort of missed, actually, though she wasn't sure why.



In the hotel, though, there were no snorts or snores from Desi. He was sitting up on the bed, the TV flashing before him as reruns of MASH played. He was holding the tank top she'd had on the day before like it was a security blanket, his eyes sad as he stared at the TV without seeing it.

It was all so close, everything he'd dreamed of, everything he'd worked for, and yet it was all just slipping through his fingers at the same time. Nick Carter was simultaneously giving him everything he'd ever dreamed...and taking it all away.

Chapter Nineteen: Girl, You Move Me


Nick woke up at four in the morning to the feeling of Kelsey's hand snaking around his body and pulling herself tight against his back. He stared through the dark in the bedroom at the glowing digital numbers on the alarm clock, just feeling the weight of her there beside him, feeling the smoothness of her skin against him. He held his breath and felt her chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm.

They'd wakened during the night and fallen into a second round of love making. He'd held her wrists to the pillow and kissed her head to toe this time before she'd taken control, rolling so that she was straddling him and kissing him and he'd gotten dizzy with excitement. They'd fallen asleep still tangled up in knots of skin and sweat and her hair had frayed across the pillow around them like a curtain for their kisses to remain private.

He drew a deep breath and she slid her hands across his chest, pressing her palm squarely across him, right over his heart. He smiled, and she nuzzled her face into his back, and mumbled, her lips moving against his skin, her breath warm on him, "Desi."

Nick blinked into the dark.

Kelsey hummed and breathed deeply and shifted her legs.

Nick brought his hand up to his chest, covering hers, almost protectively holding it there, as though by holding it to his chest he would undo the fact that she'd just whispered Desi's name instead of his own. He chewed his lip. How the hell was it that after last night, after the heat of last night, that she'd just mumbled Desi's name? Maybe it wasn't like that, he tried telling himself. Maybe she was having a terrible dream and Desi was in it and it had nothing to do with the sex.

He decided to let the word disappear into the dark, to fade away, four letters never uttered.

He closed his eyes and, still clinging to her hand, attempted to fall back asleep.

But her voice kind of rang in his ear and he found himself allowing his eyes to slide open and stare into the dark only a few moments later.

He wondered if this was how normal guys felt when paired up against him.

It was several hours later - all filled with thinking and over-thinking on Nick's part - before Kelsey yawned and stretched and her hand slid away from his chest as she rolled onto her back. He turned in the bed and watched as she twisted and turned, her bare chest thrusting toward the ceiling. He smiled, nestling his chin into the pillow, his eyes glistening as he watched her. "Mornin'," he mumbled finally.

Kelsey's arm slid across her breasts, as though she'd just realize he was there and needed to be modest. Her cheeks flushed, "Morning," she replied. She lifted the pillow from behind her and hugged it to cover her chest.

Nick reached for the pillow, "But they're beautiful," he protested, and he swatted the pillow away. He stared up at her eyes. "Ain't like I didn't see'em last night," he smirked.

Kelsey laughed, "You did a lot more than see them last night," she pointed out.

He slid his hand across her stomach to her chest and gently cupped his hand across her breast. He smiled, and stared into her eyes as he softly caressed her. She flexed the muscles in her toes as he rubbed her skin.

"What time is it?" Kelsey asked quietly.

"Nearly nine," Nick replied.

Kelsey thought about it a moment, "At night?" her eye brows stitched together.

"In the morning," Nick corrected.

Kelsey's eyes widened. "What??" she squeaked, sitting up, knocking Nick's hand from her breasts. "How can it-- you aren't-- are you serious?"

"Yes I'm serious," Nick laughed and he turned and reached for the alarm clock, aiming it at Kelsey. "See?"

"Shit." She rolled and climbed out of bed. "Shit-shit-shit. Desi must be worried sick..." she grabbed the towel he'd discarded the night before from the floor and wrapped it around her. She looked around, "Where's my phone? I gotta call him." She went into the bathroom.

Nick stretched out on the bed, his hands clasping over the two sides of the mattress and he pulled until he felt his back pop and let out a groan as he fell back into the blankets. "Aw man that felt good," he mumbled.

Kelsey came back out, tugging her bra on, her jeans already buttoned, her shirt tossed over her shoulder as she struggled with the clasps of her bra. Nick watched her pull her hair back into a messy pony tail. "Relax," he mumbled, "I'm sure Desi's asleep. He worked late last night, right?"

"Yeah but he wouldn't have gone to sleep," she shook her head.

"Needs to be tucked in, does he?" Nick jested.

Kelsey was pulling her shirt on now, and Nick rolled out of bed and waddled into the bathroom for his pants. He tugged them on as Kelsey shouted, "Hurry, we gotta get back to the hotel."

"Can't I at least bring you to breakfast first?" he asked.

"We can go after we get Desi," Kelsey called.

Nick sighed and tossed on his t-shirt. He knew he looked messy but he didn't really care, so he wandered downstairs after kicking on a pair of old leather flip flops and scratched his butt as he descended the steps. Kelsey was waiting at the bottom, her purse under her arm. She led the way across the yard to Nick's car in the mid-afternoon light and he climbed in, yawning even as he shoved the key into the ignition.

"Shit I need coffee," he groaned.

"Again -- after we get Desi."

"You're no fun," Nick pouted.

Kelsey raised an eyebrow, "No fun?" she asked, "Did we not have any fun last night, playing rodeo, Mr. Horsey?" she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"Yeah no that was fun," Nick said, "I mean in the morning. You're too...rushed to get back to reality. We should still be up there laying in the afterglow arguing over what poor cab-driving bastard to subject to picking up our to-go breakfast order and making out until we're ready to do it again -- twice before lunch, if we're lucky." Nick smirked at her as he drove down the street.

"Well I have responsibilities," she said, "I told Desi I'd be home and I gotta be home." She shrugged.

"Yeah," Nick said, and he chewed his lower lip. Thing was, he didn't want Kelsey to have to go home, he thought, he wanted her to be home. He hesitated, "Well what if you moved in?" he asked.

"What?" Kelsey looked at him like he had several large, biologically unexplainable heads.

"Well I mean I got a shitload of extra room," Nick pointed out, "It wouldn't be all that hard to do.. and you could use the tub any time you wanted," he added.

Kelsey laughed. "You're bribing me with your bathtub?"

Nick nodded, "And also the sex that goes with it." She laughed.

"While the tub and the sex both sound exhilarating," she said, "What about Desi?"

"What about him?"

"Well he moved to Nashville with me, I can't imagine him being chill about me just up and running off on him like that.." she said.

Nick shrugged, "I got a room over the garage."

Kelsey laughed. "I'll mention it to him sometime."

"Sooner rather than later?" Nick suggested.

When the car pulled up in the hotel parking lot, Kelsey leaned over and presed her mouth into Nick's, her heart pounding as she kissed him, her hands sliding up the back of his neck to his hair. She twined her fingers through it, stroking his head softly.

Nick hummed in approval.

"Okay, I gotta go in," she mumbled into the kiss. "But I'll see you later."

"Okay," he mumbled. Kelsey pulled away and he leaned as far as he could to prevent the separating of their lips. Then, "When later?" he asked.

"I dunno. Call at some point." Kelsey waved and started up the steps. Nick watched until he saw her safely enter the hotel room before driving off.

Chapter Twenty: You Blind Girl


Desi had indeed fallen asleep by the time Kelsey pushed her way into the hotel room. He'd only been asleep probably two hours, though. Strewn across the bed were sheets of lyrics he'd written in the last few hours, all angry, broken words that had been written with a pen pressed heavy against the pages.

Kelsey tried to close the door quietly, but he heard it and his eyes snapped open at once. He rolled over and stared at her as she tiptoed to the bed. Her eyes met his. "Hey," she said gently. She kicked off her shoes and crawled onto her mattress, gathering a pillow under her chin, and lay, staring back at him. "I'm so--"

"Forget it," he interrupted, and he rolled over.

Kelsey sighed.

Desi closed his eyes.

"Aw c'mon, Des," she said to his back.

"Is this my punishment for coming home drunk then? You don't come home at all?" he asked. He turned back around, "You don't call at all, nothin'?" He shook his head, "Could've at least had Nick call and tell me he wasn't bringin' you home after all. He said he was..."

"You talked to Nick?"

"Yeah, last night."

Kelsey's brows stitched. "How? We were ---" she paused. "--busy, by the time you got out of work."

Desi felt his heart sink at the word busy. He lost all the thoughts that'd been in his head, like they were scattered birds, each letter taking off on its own course away from his mind. The only thing now in his mind was the image of the two of them having sex. He drew a deep breath, trying to regather the words, trying to force the thought of sex out. "I talked to him around, I dunno, like eight I guess it was, I don't remember. I was back early. I quit," he said.

Kelsey's eyes widened, "You quit?" she gasped. "Desi, why would you do that?"

"Rick was being a jerk."

"So you just walked out?" Kelsey squealed, "How could you? Desi, how are we gonna pay --"

"WE?" Desi shouted. "We have not paid anything," he announced, "I have paid everything since we left Boston."

Kelsey stared at him like she'd been slapped.

"So if I wanna quit then I'm gonna quit," he added. "I'll figure it out, I'll pay everything. Don't worry about it. You haven't yet. And if you're worried, then maybe you should ask Nick if he pays by the hour."

She just continued staring at him.

Desi knew he crossed a line with that last sentence, he knew it, but she didn't seem to be reacting, so he just stared at her, waiting. He wanted to take it back. He hadn't really meant it the way it had sounded. But he didn't dare to speak in the silence that followed the last word falling from his mouth. Maybe, he thought irrationally, she hadn't heard it somehow.

She didn't say anything. She just got up and started throwing things into her suitcase. She zipped the suitcase up and wheeled it to the door and pulled it outside and slammed the door shut.

Desi sat there for a few seconds. Then he got up and he rushed after her. She was about halfway down the steps, the phone to her ear. "Come back," she was saying into the phone. "Come back, please come back."

"Kelsey, I'm sorry," Desi said, charging after her, "I'm just... surprised that's all, and I had a rough day and all I wanted was to talk to you afterwards... and you weren't here, and I got upset, that's all. I didn't mean it like I said it, it came out all wrong." He jogged down the steps to her and tried to take hold of her suitcase.

"Let go!" she shouted at him.

"Kelsey... c'mon. Where are you going?"

"Away. Away from you."

"Kels..."

Kelsey ripped the suitcase back out of his hand, stumbled and tripped down the steps only just catching her balance before going all the way down. She slammed the suitcase to the curb. Desi rushed, arms extended, about to catch her if she'd actually fallen. She shoved him back with all her might, her hands against his chest.

"Kelsey --"

"What is wrong with you?" she cried out.

"I don't know," he replied. "i just ---" he took a deep breath, "I'm jealous, Kelsey!"

She blinked in surprise. That wasn't the response she'd expected. "You're -- what?"

"I'm jealous," Desi answered. "I'm jealous of Nick. He's been in your life for like two weeks or something and you're acting like you're in love with him, like he's the one that's been taking care of you all this time... But what's he ever done for you that's better than everything I've done?"

"Des... what're you sayin'?"

"I'm saying I'm in love with you," he shouted, "You blind girl, I've been in love with you my whole damn life."

They stood there staring at each other, neither one moving, neither one speaking any words, just deadlocked into each other's eyes.

After about two solid minutes of silent staring, Nick's car pulled up and the spell was broken as he got out, "Hey," he said, looking between the two of them, "Is everything okay?"

"Jolly," Desi said as he gave Kelsey a pleading look. He'd do anything for Nick to just... go away. He'd do anything for Kelsey to tell him to leave, for her to stay with him, Desi, at the hotel and for the two of them to talk it out, maybe order in some food, watch crappy TV shows and laugh as he held her on the bed and they kissed during the commercial breaks... just like he'd always dreamed.

Instead, Kelsey broke their stare. She nodded at Nick, "Yeah," she said, "It's jolly." Kelsey dragged the suitcase to his car's door and opened it up and struggled to shove it in.

Nick jumped forward to help her, glancing back at Desmond in surprise. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I need to get outta here," she replied.

Desmond took a deep breath. "Kels --"

"No," she said, turning back to him. "No. Just... no." She shook her head.

"No?"

She stared at him. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was afraid."

Kelsey shook her head, "Well you're too god damn late." She turned to Nick, "Take me home."

Desmond felt like everything was shattering around him. "Don't go," he said. Nick was already running around the nose of the car. Kelsey slid into the passenger seat. "Please, Kels. Can't we talk?"

Kelsey stared into his eyes, "Not right now," she said, and she slammed the car door, almost taking out his hand, and Desi jumped back as Nick turned the ignition and started to drive away.

Desi hung his head.

As they drove, Nick didn't dare to speak to Kelsey. She had her arms crossed over her chest, staring out the window, grumbling. He was afraid if he said the wrong thing that she'd pounce him like a cheetah. It took more than half the ride from East Nashville to Cool Springs for Kelsey to speak. Finally, she exploded. "Oh my GOD," she fumed, "The nerve of him. I hate him, sometimes. I just hate him."

"What'd he do?" Nick asked.

Kelsey was wringing her hands, anger spilling over in her gut. "He quit his job," she said, "And then he has the nerve -- the audacity -- well I mean, he's the reason that I didn't get a job and -- then he says that and --" she spluttered.

Nick raised his eyebrow at her. "What'd he say? What happened?"

"He made it sound like it wasn't any of my business if he quit or not," Kelsey said hotly, "Acted like I don't have any say in what goes on, just because I don't have a damn job or pay bills or whatever."

Nick was almost stupid enough to say something like, "do you have any say in that?", but thankfully managed to keep his mouth shut.

"Then he has the audacity to tell me that I should ask you if you're planning to pay me by the hour, like I'm a fucking -- whore or something."

Nick's fist tightened on the wheel and he had to count backwards from ten to keep from hooking a U-turn right there on the highway and going back to pummel Desi's ass. "He what?" he yelped.

But Kelsey was still on her tangent and didn't even really hear Nick's reaction. "And all that just because ---" she shook her head, "I can't believe him."

"Because what?"

Kelsey glanced over at Nick. She realized as she stared at the side of his head as he glanced between her and the road, that she didn't want him to know what Desi had said. She didn't wanna tell him that when Desi had said them, in the silence that followed, a tiny part of her had wanted to run into his arms and scream at him for having kept her waiting so long to hear the words.

"Nothing," she said, "Because nothing."

Nick sighed. He could tell there was more to it than she was telling him, but he didn't dare to press it. He'd learned that particular lesson about women a hundred times over. So he restrained himself and said, "Look, whatever he said or whatever purpose he had for it, I just -- you don't deserve that. You deserve to be respected, y'know? Don'tcha be takin' no shit from nobody, even Desi. Nobody. You're a strong, beautiful woman and there ain't nobody needs to be bringin' you down."

Kelsey smiled as Nick ranted. It was sweet how worked up he was getting over it all, even if he didn't have much of a clue about what all was happening. She'd be crazy, she thought, no matter how excited that part of her had been when Desi had said those words, to give up Nick. He was one of the most desirable men in the entire world and he had a heart of gold, and he hadn't waited for thirty years to tell her how he felt.

Chapter Twenty-One: Batshit Crazy


Kelsey ignored every text, call, and e-mail from Desi for an entire week. And that was a lot of texts, calls, and e-mails to ignore. Nick knew because he was the one that ended up fielding half of them because somewhere around the third day, Desi figured out that Nick would at least reply. So there was a long string of how's Kelsey and she's okay going back and forth between the two guys while Kelsey spent the week fuming over Desi's passion-fused words.

Normally, having a pissed off girl floating around the house was a downer, but since Nick wasn't the guy she was pissed off at, he found the experience refreshing. And the angry sex? Well, Nick wasn't about to pass that up anytime soon (and there certainly was a lot of it). In fact, it was the fifth night of Desmond-Free Week when Nick was laying in a sweaty mass of sheets and Kelsey when his cellphone rang.

"'Lo?" Nick asked into the phone, breathless. Kelsey ran her fingers through his hair as she laid across his chest, her hair splayed across his skin.

There was a pause. "Are you busy?" It was Howie.

"Hey Howie," Nick panted. "I uh, not anymore?" Nick grinned at Kelsey who smiled back up at him and nuzzled into his chest.

Howie laughed, "She still there?"

"Shut up," Nick panted.

Howie snickered. "Look, I'll make this quick so you can get back to - uh- what I'm keeping you from... Kevin gave us the demo of the song, and I was thinking we should all get together and tape it sometime. The five of us. What'cha think?"

"Sounds marvelous."

Kelsey kissed Nick's chest and he closed his eyes, restraining a moan.

"What do you think about this weekend?"

"Okay."

"Okay. We were hoping to use your studio actually."

"My studio?" Nick asked. Then he sobered up as the words sank in. "My studio -- here in Nashville? Ya'll are comin' to Nashville?"

Howie laughed, "That's the point, yes."

"This weekend."

"Uh-huh."

"Well shit I better clean the house then," Nick said, only half-joking. He glanced at Kelsey. "I um, I have a girl here," he said, staring into her eyes, "Just so y'all know."

"Well I'd hope you aren't making yourself pant like that or I'd have to ask you what kind of bionic hand you had installed," Howie joked.

"No I mean, she lives here," Nick replied, rolling his eyes.

Howie snickered. "You dawg."

"Shut up."

"Well warn her that the Backstreet Boys are taking over Casa de Carter for a couple nights. We can get this song taped and maybe we'll actually have a kick start on the album finally." Howie's voice climbed in excitement. "And Nick? Did I mention I'm real proud of you dude? This song is brilliant."

Nick closed his eyes. "Yeah," he said, "It is."

"You've come a long way from the little tool you were a couple years ago," Howie said with a faux nostalgic air to his voice. "Anyways, lil bro, lemme call the other guys, tell'em you confirmed for the weekend and I'll call ya back with everyone's itineraries as soon as I know'em." Howie paused, and the grin in his voice was evident as he said, "Have fun tonight, Don Juan."

Nick hung up the phone and tossed it onto the night stand.

Kelsey looked up at him, her chin on his chest.

"Howie," Nick said by way of explanation. "The fellas are coming to tape the song." He smiled.

"Desi's song?" Kelsey asked and she sat up, hugging the sheet across her chest as her eyes widened and her hair cascaded down her back. "Really?"

Nick realized in that instant where his folly lay. Kelsey knew the song as Desi's song. The Boys knew the song as Nick's song. He chewed the inside of his lip, trying to decide how to tell Kelsey what was going on with the song and the rights to the song, but she was already onto the next topic before he could settle on any words.

"So y'all really tape like actual albums and everything in the studio then?" she asked.

"I did a lot of my solo album there," he replied.

"That's pretty awesome," Kelsey said.

"Yeah," he answered.

She licked her lips. "Des would probably wanna know y'all are taping the song."

"I'll tell him," Nick replied.

"Okay," she answered. She snuggled back into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling.

Nick turned toward her, "You okay? That's the first time you've mentioned The-D-Word since last week," he pointed out.

Kelsey shrugged, "Yeah, I guess so. I mean this is probably the longest I've been out of touch with him other than when I was with Luke..." She stared at the blanket and started picking at it a little with her fingers.

"You still pissed about what he said?" Nick asked.

Kelsey shrugged again. "Not really."

"So why are you still avoiding him?"

Because he's in love with me and I don't know how to handle that yet, Kelsey thought. Outloud, she said, "I'm just not ready to forgive him yet, I suppose."

Nick sighed and rolled back into his own pillows so they were laying side by side on the bed. "Eventually you're gonna though, right?"

"Eventually."

It would've been easier to tell her about the song if she'd doubted ever wanting to forgive him, he thought.

So they laid there, each of them in their own secrets, thinking of all the ways it'd be easier to tell the other person what they were thinking.




Desi, meanwhile, had spent the week writing.

Crumpled notebook paper was strewn around the hotel room floor like snow drifts, massive piles of discarded pages, words scripted upon their every surface. He'd been dribbling out words since the moment he'd been standing on the curb as Kelsey drove away. Word vomit about the moment when you spill your guts to someone and they throw it all away.

He was laying on his back on the floor in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, splayed out.

His phone vibed. He picked it up.

Kelsey wanted me to tell you we're taping your song this weekend. Me and the Boys.

He stared at the words on the screen, squinting, almost unable to understand the meaning of them.

Seriously?

Yeah.

Desi felt a lump rise in his throat. He was about to be legitimately published, his music actually recorded by people whose music was actually heard of. He imagined getting contacted for a million song writing jobs following it's release, people scrambling to get a song written by the guy that wrote the new Backstreet Boys song.

He sighed and looked around at all the paper. He wasn't gonna be able to write another damn song, though, he thought to himself, considering his muse was gone.

Desi grabbed the tank top that she'd left on the bed and picked it up and smelled it. It was purple flowers and coconut and something else, something uniquely Kelsey. He breathed deep and then shoved the tank top back among the blankets on her bed, where he kept it to preserve the smell.

He felt pathetic.




"They're crazy. That's your warning," Nick said as his car swerved off the I-40 and into the BNA arrivals lane. He glanced at Kelsey, "I mean completely, 100% batshit crazy."

"They're friends with you," she pointed out, "They'd have to be."

"Touche."

Nick pulled the Escalade up to a space and parked it and got out, walking around to the back. Kelsey stayed in the seat, biting her lip and watching in the mirror as four guys trampled through the underbelly of the arrivals lanes dragging luggage. Nick hugged each of them in turn and laughed at something one of them said, and slapped his hand on the back of another. She had a feeling that she should know all their names but like all the names of the Spice Girls that was a bit of 90s trivia long lost in the recesses of her brain.

Nick opened the hatch of the Escalade and started piling up the luggage. "Lift with your hips not your back for Christ's sake, you're gonna bust your sacroiliac."

"Nick's gonna bust his sack," snorted a low voice. Nick giggled.

"It means back, you dirty, hairy bastard," replied the first voice.

The door opened behind Kelsey and suddenly a face popped up through the two front seats. "Hello!" The blue eyes staring at her were excited and dancing. "I'm Brian." He stuck out a hand.

"Hey," she replied. "Kelsey."

"Purdy name!" he said enthusiastically. He then proceeded to toss himself into the far back row of seats by rolling over the middle one, legs flailing.

She raised an eyebrow. Okay. Nick was right. These guys were batshit crazy. She turned in her seat and saw Nick and the guy with bushy eyebrows shoving the last of the suitcases in. Meanwhile the other two were climbing in the middle seat. "I ain't sittin' with Rok," muttered the guy who'd been excited about the sack breaking. He had a big thick beard and nerdy black-framed glasses. "I had enough Rok time on the plane." He slid into the center seat, then saw Kelsey peeking over her seat's shoulder. "Well hello there sweets."

"Hi," Kelsey muttered.

The other guy shoved in next to The Beard and stuck out his hand, "Howie Dorough," he said, "Nice to meet you. Sorry for interrupting y'all the other day." He thumbed at him, "He didn't say it because he's rude, but his name's AJ."

"Hi," Kelsey said again.

The last guy got in and looked at the two crammed into the center seat. They both grinned up at him. He looked back at Brian. "Sorry Kev," AJ said, "We took a vote on who was gonna sit with Brian and you lost."

Kevin grumbled something, then started to turn back to the third row as Nick climbed into the driver's seat.

"What's your name, by the way, doll?" AJ asked, leaning forward.

"That's Kelsey," Brian shouted from the back before she could answer. Then, "Kevin, did you meet Kelsey?"

Kevin looked toward the front, "Hello Kelsey."

"Hi," she said a third time.

Nick grinned into the rearview mirror. "Okay let's go," and he pulled out of the space and into the flow of BNA traffic.

"OHMIGOSH," shouted Brian from the back, "WE'RE BACK AGAIN!"

And then the whole Escalade exploded into about a thousand different conversations as the guy all jostled to talk about their travel to BNA at the same time. Nick grinned over at Kelsey. "I told you they're crazy," he laughed.

"Batshit crazy," Kelsey nodded.

He laughed and his eyes twinkled, "I gotta warn ya, too..."

"What?"

"I get pretty batshit crazy around them myself."

Kelsey raised an eyebrow.

Nick grinned.

Chapter Twenty-Two: In the Eye


It was like the house had been invaded, Kelsey thought, as she listened to the clamour of the five Boys surrounding her as they ate pre-recording-session lunch. They were all fighting over what to watch on TV as they ate big sub sandwiches, their mouths full as they shouted at each other. Nick was (loudly) arguing to watch a re-run of a Buccs pre-season game on some obscure NFL channel, which AJ was denying on the call that the Buccs always lost ("Not in this game though, dawg," Nick yelped desperately). Brian was singing the theme song to Hot in Cleveland ("ba bah-baaa-baaa...") after having seen it on the guide grid, while Howie and Kevin were discussing some news story that the two of them were keeping up on that the other guys clearly weren't. AJ had somehow managed to best the others by securing possession of the remote (which Nick was wrestling him for on the couch) and as a result they were all watching Guy Fieri worship a coffee-smoked pork chop.

Kelsey watched with one eyebrow raised at the commotion. It had taken hardly any time at all for her to realized exactly which Boy was which as far as exaggerated personalities went (Brian the clow, Kevin the parental unit, Nick the baby brother, AJ the rebel, Howie the diva), and she felt sort of like a scientist observing the behavior patterns of a new species.

Nick lunged for the remote control, just as AJ, seeing the attack coming, leaned back and tossed the remote into the air. Kelsey caught the remote and Nick received an eyeful of The Beard. "OW!" he yelled, clutching his face, "Beard! Your beard whipped me! In the eye!"

"So calm the fuck down and maybe my beard won't have to whip you in your eye then," AJ said.

Nick noticed Kelsey had the remote, "Gimme, gimme, gimme," he begged, wiggling his fingers.

"Don't do it!" Brian shouted, "He'll subject us to three hours of the Tampa Bay Buccanneers playing like a peewee team!"

"They don't play like a peewee team!" Nick whined.

"You're right," Brian said, "Even peewees win sometimes!"

"HEY!"

Kevin stood up, "Okay, let's get to work before this descends into kindergarten level insults."

"You mean he isn't rubber, and I'm not glue, and whatever I say and whatever I do doesn't bounce off him and stick to -- me?" Brian asked, eyes wide.

Kevin raised a wooly eyebrow.

Kelsey laughed and five heads turned toward her, "Y'all are crazy. Are you always this crazy?" she asked.

"Pretty much always," Howie answered.

"When we haven't been around each other in awhile," AJ said, "The crazy kind of gets... you know, magnified."

"Plus I think we're all energized by excitement right now. I mean, it isn't everyday our little Nicky here manages to write a hit song for us all to record," Kevin said, smiling proudly.

Kelsey looked surprised, "Nick wrote a song?" she looked at him. "I thought you were recording Desi's song?"

"Desi? Who the hell is Desi?" Howie looked confused.

"OKAY GUYS," Nick shouted, leaping off the couch and away from AJ, "I'll meet y'all up in the studio, I gotta -- show... Kelsey... something." He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room as the other guys all gathered together the wrappers of their subs and their drinks and started herding up the stairs, already onto another topic as their sneakers all thundered up the steps.

Nick pulled Kelsey into the kitchen.

"You wrote a song, too?" she asked, turning to face him, her back leaning against the counter. "I didn't know that. Why didn't you tell me? What's it about?"

Nick's palms were sweaty. He rubbed them across his shirt. "Okay, so it's like this -- I have a confession to make."

"A confession?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

Nick took a deep breath. "Okay so... see, before I came out here, I was having... issues. With drinking. Like a lot."

"Okay?"

"And so like the fellas, they said they didn't wanna work with me 'til I got those issues figured out y'know, so they figure if I could write a song that was like worth taping that I probably wasn't drinkin' and shit, you know? Like a challenge. So they told me to write a song and when I had a song ready for them then we'd start workin again and stuff."

Kelsey was staring at him and the intensity of her eyes made him even more nervous. He felt like he was a sponge and there was water just like pouring out of him or something. He wiped his palms again. "So anyways I'm kinda crap at writing songs," he said. "I've been tryin', y'know, but it ain't easy. It doesn't just happen for me. I mean I ain't great with words and stuff... So like... I kinda..." He licked his lips, closed his eyes, and said in a great rush of oxygen, "I-told-them-Desi's-song-was-my-song-and-that-I-wrote-it."

Kelsey stared at him.

Nick waited for a response.

She just stared at him.

"Kelsey?"

"But you didn't write it," she said.

"Right."

"Desi wrote it."

"I know."

"But won't they notice on the, like, credits, that it's Desi's song?" she asked, confused, her mind still trying to wrap around what Nick was telling her. The monolithicness of the his confession hadn't yet hit her.

Nick winced, "Well see, like, his name isn't on it anywhere."

"Why?"

"Because... he doesn't own any rights to it anymore."

"What?"

Nick's palms were getting wetter and wetter by the moment and sweat began speckling his brow. "Well, see, the contract Desi signed with me... it was... like, I wrote in there that I got all the rights to the song..."

"You're stealing Desi's song?" Kelsey shrieked.

"SHHH!" Nick shouted, and he looked at the doorway, as though expecting all four of the other guys to be there. He waved his hand for her to lower her voice, then said, "Well I mean I bought the song, didn't I, so it isn't really stealing..."

"How much did you pay him for it?" she demanded.

"Twenty-five grand," Nick replied, trying to make his voice carry the amount as though it were a huge pay off for a song.

"How much do all the rights to a song usually cost? Is that a good price?" she asked.

Nick hesitated. "Well, I mean, I haven't really ever bought a song's rights before but I mean..."

"How much is the average song, period, then, Nick?" she asked.

Nick felt his mouth go dry. He looked down at his sneakers.

"More than twenty-five grand?" Kelsey asked.

Nick looked up at her.

"Fifty grand?"

Still he stared.

"Hundred grand?"

"Well I mean --"

"Nick!" she shouted, "How could you? Don't you know how much this all means to him? He trusts you, he looks up to you. He thinks you're the most amazing person in the world because you're helping him... and you're really screwing him over aren't you?" Kelsey's eyes were more disappointed than angry and Nick felt sick to his stomach.

"Well I mean... I was gonna tell the fellas... really... eventually..."

"Before or after it's a hit song on the radio and you've made millions and he's still sitting on the twenty-five grand?" Kelsey demanded.

Nick felt his cheeks turn red. "I just... I wanted the fellas to... to come see... that... that... I'm not... I dunno, drinking... and..."

"Nick, like a week ago we were driving all over the city to find your car that got impounded 'cos you parked illegally at a bar and you and Desi came back to the hotel singing the Ghostbusters theme at the top of your lungs!" Kelsey cried. "You are drinking! So not only are you still drinking and lying about not drinking, but you didn't write the song they're all so excited about."

Nick felt like a four year old in trouble. He continued staring at his sneakers.

"They're gonna be pissed at you," Kelsey said. "I'm pissed at you. Desi's gonna be pissed at you."

"I know..." Nick said quietly.

"So you gotta make it right," Kelsey said.

"I'm gonna," Nick mumbled.

"Promise me you'll make it right."

"I promise," Nick replied.

Kelsey sighed, "Okay then." She shook her head, "I can't believe you."

Nick swallowed.

"I'm going for a walk," she said.

Nick nodded.

"They better all know who wrote the song by the time I get back or I'll tell'em myself."

He nodded again.

Kelsey opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, then headed to the door. Nick stood in the kitchen after he heard the front door close and leaned against the fridge. He pictured going up those steps, into his studio, and telling the fellas the truth and he couldn't quite imagine doing it. The expression of disappointment that was gonna play on Kevin's face... the sighs of exasperation from Howie, Brian and AJ... these were the things he hadn't really thought about when he'd initiated this plan.

"Nick!" Howie yelled down the stairs, "Where the hell are ya?"

"I'm comin'!" he shouted, and he dragged his feet climbing the stairs, dreading the moment when he told them all the truth.

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hallelujah Chorus


Kelsey walked about a quarter mile and then called a cab. Her blood boiling, she barked the name of the hotel and sat stewing in the backseat and the driver weaved through afternoon traffic to the South-East Nashville neighborhood that she and Desi had been staying in since they'd arrived to Music City. When they got to the hotel, Kesley went upstairs, pulled the keycard to the room out of her wallet, and walked right into the room, a force to reckoned with.

Desi had been laying across the bed still, half buried under his own crumpled notebook paper, his hat over his face, muttering words that rhymed with wavering. He sat up the moment she burst into the room as the door hit the little spring thingy that protected the wall, making a metallic humming echo through the room. "Kelsey," he said in surprise, "What're you --"

"What the fuck were you thinking?" she shouted.

Desmond blinked, "What?"

Kelsey looked around, "Where's your contract with Nick?" she demanded. Desmond waved at the dresser and Kelsey walked over and picked up the paper, her eyes scanning the terms that Desmond had signed to. "You didn't even read this did you?" she asked.

"Of course I read it," he said, though even as the words came out of his mouth he realized he couldn't remember if he had or not. He squinted, "I think."

"Desmond, you signed over all of your rights to the song to him," she shouted, "You gave up royalties and credit and everything. Everything."

"What?" Desi looked confused, "But --"

She waved the contract in his direction. "Right there," she said, running a finger over the line. "Look, right there. Initialed by you." She stared at him, "Desi, what the hell were you thinking?"

He took the contract out of her hands and stared down at it. She was right. Right there in plain ol' black and white, spelled out so clearly there wasn't any denying what it said. He twitched.

"He's stealing your song, Desi," Kelsey said sharply. "Whatever he says, he tried to steal your fucking song."

Desmond shook his head, "No.. no, he paid me for it. That's why I was able to walk out of McDonalds." He looked up, "I have five thousand already and he's gonna give me another twenty-grand..."

"And the going rate on a song without any rights transferred over even is over four times that!" Kelsey shouted. "Don't you see what he did? He screwed you over."

Desmond stared at the contract and suddenly he felt extremely stupid. He'd been duped by his excitement. He sat on the bed, dumbfounded.

"How could you be so stupid to sign something like that?" she demanded.

"I was drunk," he stammered.

Kelsey sucked in a gasp of breath and turned around.

"Wait," he said, "Don't go."

"I gotta get back," she said, "I just... I thought you should know what's going on, what he's doing to you."

"I already knew he was stealing from me," Desi said, "He's stealing you from me, too."

Kelsey stood by the door, her hand on the knob, and pressed her forehead against the frame. "He isn't...stealing me."

"Yes he is," Desi said. "Kelsey..." he threw the contract onto the bed, "Kels, more than anything else - more than the songwriting career, more than the change, more than getting you out of New England - more than any of that the one thing I wanted when we got here to Nashville was to be able to get the balls to tell you that I loved you and -- I still was too much of a wuss to tell you until the other day, and..." he was standing just inches away from her, staring at her back, his hands shaking from nerves, "And I finally told you... and you ran away... to him..."

She turned slowly around and faced Desi, their eyes locked. "I just... want a chance..." he said slowly, "To show you that I love you... and that the way I love you, it's deeper than anyone else could ever because I know you. I know you like nobody else knows you and I love you for everything I know."

Kelsey stared up into Desi's eyes. She felt her throat constrict, "How could you?"

"Love you?" he asked, "It's easy. It comes naturally. I just look at you and it happens."

She felt her heart racing. "Desi..."

"You doubt it?" he asked.

"I just --"

"Here," he said, "Let me prove it." And he took three steps forward, pressing her to the door, his mouth meeting hers, and their lips forming against each other like they were puzzle pieces. His hands held hers up, pressed to the door over her head, her body pressing into him. She was rigid with surprise at first, then slowly melted into him, her mouth moving hungrily against his, their eyes closed.

When he backed away after several long moments, let her hands slip from his, she lowered, wobbly, to the carpet and hugged her knees, staring up at him, her finger tips touching her lips softly. "Oh my God," she mumbled.

Desi was breathless.

"Oh my God," Kelsey whispered again. Tears were filling her eyes. It was like that kiss had aligned the planets and the stars and made everything make sense -- everything made perfect sense. All the years of being Desi's friend, all the times he'd been there for her, all the mistakes she'd made that he'd never judged her for, all the things that he'd done for her. Everything. Every little thing made completely sense.

"And I'd do it again," he whispered, like he knew her mind, like he could see her soul through her eyes.

He lowered to his knees in front of her. "Please," he whispered.

Kelsey stared at him, a feeling like she'd never had before taking over every particle of her body.

"I love you," Desi said thickly.

"I... I love you, too," she whispered.

Desi wanted to crow with excitement, to fist-pump the air and do a jig. He wanted to run laps around the hotel, screaming to the tune of the Rocky Theme Song. He expected fireworks and asteroids and rainbows and confetti to shoot from every angle of the sky. Expected the Hallelujah chorus.

Instead he just fell forward into her arms.

Everything that came next was a mirage of blurry color. The white cotton sheets, the green of her t-shirt, the grey of his sweatpants, beige of her bra, the denim of her jeans, the maroon of his briefs... There was sounds, too. She gasped, he groaned. They moaned together. The blankets shuffled against their skin, her hair whispered across the pillow case, his breath became ragged... And the world was blurry. The curtains ruffling in the air conditioner, the crumbled balls of papers moving like snow from the bed as they moved... They tumbled together and tangled their limbs and the whole of it was burned into Desi's brain like an abstract painting, like one of those works of art that you stand at the museum and wonder what the fuck the artist was smoking when they painted that. Desi understood now. The artist wasn't smoking anything, the artist was just trying to express the inexpressible, to depict something that was so deeply within that they couldn't put words or image to it, only feelings, sounds, emotions, blurs of color... the way he'd remember this night for the rest of his life was how a painter captured the world through abstract art.

"Holy shit," Desmond whispered afterwards, in the stillness.

"Your heart is racing," Kelsey whispered.

Desi nodded. "Yeah."

She stared up at him.

"Every dream I've had since I was like old enough to dream about this stuff just came true," Desmond said.

Kelsey laughed, "Oh stop that."

"No I'm serious," he said solemnly. "You've been the star in every fantasy I've ever had. You're the only woman I've ever wanted."

"I seem to recall you having a crush on Britney Spears back in 1998."

"That was different."

"And Halle Berry."

"Shut up."

Kelsey laughed, her eyes sparkling. Then she crawled closer to him and stared right into his eyes. "You really have loved me all that time haven't you?" she asked, amazement in her voice.

"I have," Desi answered. "Always."

Kelsey smiled. Then her smile faded just a little and her eyes filled with concern. "Nick," she said.

Desi felt some kind of jealous little flicker in side of him. "What about him?"

"He's gonna wonder where I am."

"Let him wonder."

Kelsey got up and she started collecting her clothes up from the floor. "I at least owe him an explanation, don't you think?" she said.

"He stole my song."

"He's gonna make it right," Kelsey said. "He is. He's not a bad guy, I think he's just... misguided. He's just confused. And you gotta give him a chance, you know? Just let him make it right."

Desi watched as she got dressed. "Are you going to tell him... about this, I mean?"

Kelsey nodded. "I owe him that, too."

Desi picked at a loose string on the bedspread. "And what exactly... was... this?" he asked. Kesley chewed her lip. "I mean... what now? With us?"

Kelsey took a deep breath, "I guess now we have that talk you wanted to have earlier."

"Now?"

"After I tell Nick," Kelsey replied. "I don't wanna start... this... with you until everything's over with him." She smiled, "I don't want what we are to start... wrong."

Desi nodded.

She finished getting dressed and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. She smiled and crossed the room and knelt on the edge of the bed beside him. "Desi," she said thickly, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"Everything," she answered. "I don't think I've said it enough over the years." She kissed his forehead.

"You're welcome," he answered.

She got up and picked her purse up off the floor where she'd dropped it at some point and pulled out her cell phone, "I'm gonna call a cab and --"

"Just take my car," he offered and he reached to the nightstand and took the keys and tossed them to her.

"Take your baby?" Kelsey laughed, "Really?"

Desmond laughed, "Yeah. It ain't like I'm gonna go anywhere while you're gone. In fact..." he stretched out on the bed in a sexy position. "I'll wait just right here for you."

Kelsey laughed, "Okay," she said. She inched to the door. "You do know that's making me wanna stay, don't you?"

"I wouldn't fight you off."

Kelsey rolled her eyes as she ducked out the door. "I'll be right back, Des."

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Big Twist


Desi was still laying on the bed, waiting for Kelsey to come back, when there came a knock on the door. It'd been hours since she'd left. She must've gone back to the house, must've talked to Nick, must've had a real heart-to-heart with him. Desmond imagined her coming in and declaring everything was fixed between him and Nick and that he'd just won the lottery and was a millionaire and that she'd picked him and their lives together could finally begin...

He wondered what she'd done with her room key.

He stepped into his sweats and tugged on his t-shirt as he reached the door, and declared, "You took so damn long coming back that I --" but he stopped mid-sentence, dumbfounded.

Instead of Kelsey, he was surprised to find a guy in a crisp blue uniform just outside.

"Uhh...good evening," he said. It was more a question than a statement.

"Mr. Truetree?" the guy said, tucking a hat under his left elbow and extending his right hand.

Desi shook slowly, "Mr... sir..." he said, awkward, his mind trying to work out a reason for an officer to be standing at his door.

"Officer North." He took a deep breath, "I need to speak with you for a moment. It's very important. May I come in?" Desi quickly moved out of the way and opened the door, allowing the cop to come in. He took a couple steps into the hotel room and pulled the door closed behind himself.




Nick had had every intention as he'd climbed the stairs earlier after talking to Kelsey to come up and tell the guys the truth about the song. He really had. He'd coached himself on the words to say all the way up the steps and down the hallway to the studio. But the moment he'd walked in the guys had showered him with admiration and the words had melted out of his mouth like they'd never existed.

The five of them had spent the next however long arguing about things like who would sing which part and whether the chorus should be upbeat or low tempo. They argued about adlibs and discussed how they might make a vocal representation of a meteor by al joining in bit by bit by bit to create a full, streaming sort of sound on the last line of the chorus - I wanna light myself on fire so I can burn in your heart...

Nick played the guitar, accompanied by Howie and Brian while Kevin played his keyboard and AJ a bit of a percussion. The music filled the studio, and Nick could almost hear it on the radio already, even as they taped it, their voices all blending together.

But even as the song tumbled from their lips and filled the studio, Nick knew Kelsey was right and he needed to find a way to make everything right. He could feel the weight of the theft on his shoulders, knew Desmond's writing was worth more than the 25k he'd given him. He knew he had to tell the guys that he'd betrayed them and that he wasn't anymore sober than he'd been after finishing AA the first time.

It killed him to imagine letting them down again, though.

That's when the phone rang in the studio, interrupting the recording session.

Nick slid the head set off and looked at the clock. Somehow several hours had passed. He stepped over wires that went to microphones and amps and computers and all kinds of equipment, set his guitar down on it's stand, and stepped out of the recording booth to the desk. He picked up the phone.

"Carter here," he said.

He clutched the soundboard to steady himself.

After a moment, he hung up the phone, staring blankly at it laying on it's cradle. In the studio, the guys shared worried expressions, and Kevin slid his headset off and walked to the door, pulled it open. "Everything okay, Nick?" he asked.

Nick looked up, his face pale. "I gotta go," he said.

Chapter Twenty-Five


There's been an accident.

The words echoed in Desmond's head as he walked along side Officer North through the corridor at the hospital, his sneakers squeaking on the tile. He looked like shit, his hair a mess, his sweats and t-shirt wrinkled. The harshness of the fluorescent lights glowered down at him. He clutched his hat, spinning it's brim nervously through his fingers as he walked, hands shaking.

The words had been so simple, for such life-changing words.

There's been an accident.

Desi felt dizzy and he paused, sticking out his hand to catch the wall. His stomach turned and he put his head against the pale teal and beige and closed his eyes as his insides threatened to rupture their contents. He splayed his palm, smacked the wall. Officer North came to his side and through a fog of emotion, Desi could hear vague words being offered in an attempt to soothe him, but he couldn't make them out, only the tone like the rising and falling of the sea.

Whatever Officer North was saying, all Desi heard was, "There's been an accident."

He followed Officer North further along the hallway and somewhere along the way he realized they'd been joined by a nurse and a doctor, and the doctor carried a clipboard and a concerned expression and words were again being spoken and bouncing off him unheard, he just nodded absently and followed. And then they were at a door and the tiny window in the wood door was blocked and he was led inside and the dimmed lights were kept low and the curtain was drawn around the bed and the doctor was talking some more but he couldn't hear it at all, not even the rumblings, because he knew without hearing.

There's been an accident.

He reached for the curtain and he pulled it away and he felt like the entire world had stopped spinning - it had to of, he thought.

There's been an accident.




Howie was driving. Nick stared at the street as the lights of the city glowed all around, brake lights and headlights and neon signs and billboards and house lamps all coming together like a vigil. He glanced at Howie, at the profile of his friend, the stress around his eyes. Howie was charged with empathy only, Nick thought. There was a pressure building behind Nick's chest, he could actually feel the cavity surrounding his heart, like it was closing up or filling or something. He wanted to reach over and press Howie's foot to the pedal harder, to speed up the Escalade, but Howie was being responsible. That's why he'd offered to drive after all. He knew Nick would drive like a bat out of hell and there'd been enough accidents already.

There's been an accident. That's all Desi had said into the phone, You need to come to Summit. I'm on my way now.

Summit was in an area past the airport that Nick never ventured to but the closest hospital to the part of the highway that would lead to I-65, to Nick's house... Nick's stomach turned as he looked over Howie's shoulder and saw police lights ahead and the glowing orange of a tow truck and emergency clean-up crews and even though he didn't wanna look, he looked, and he could just see the lit up shapes of a white pick-up truck with a bumper sticker of the confederate flag in one window and a twisted up blue convertible...

"Oh Jesus," he choked and he turned, putting his head down between his knees, almost throwing up on the carpeting.

Howie glanced for a split second, then turned back to the road. "Is that..."

"It's Desi's car," Nick said. He put his hands into his hair, closed his eyes. "Howie, I'm a bad person," he choked out.

"You are not, either," Howie said.

"Yes I am," Nick said, his voice thick, "This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for me..." The built up traffic that was congesting the I-40 westbound side was blurry beyond the wall of tears that were filling up Nick's eyes as he stared out at the aftermath of the accident.

"Stop that. You were at home with us, recording a song. You weren't driving either of those cars. This is not your fault."

"It is, though. She wouldn't have been driving that car if it wasn't for me," Nick tugged on his hair, trying to get the thoughts out of his head. He closed his eyes and rocked himself. "Howie, I stole the song," he gasped out. "I stole it from Desi. Desi wrote it, he wrote it and he performed it at Bluebird and I thought it was great and I was gonna hire him to write for me and then Kevin called and he was all in my shit about gettin' the song done and I panicked and I had Jason write up this contract taking the rights from Desi on the song so I didn't have to tell you guys and I got Desi drunk and I got him to sign the contract and I told Kelsey tonight 'cos I was afraid she'd tell you guys and she left and she went to tell Desi and that's how she ended up in Desi's car and that's why it's my fault."

All that in one long breath, one long sentence. Nick was winded and he felt like everything in him had emptied out into the air in the Escalade.

Howie let out a low breath.

"It's gonna be okay, Nick," Howie said shakily.

Nick looked up at Howie. Of all the guys, he knew Howie would be the one that would understand the most, or at least be the most understanding. He covered his eyes, ashamed.

Howie put on the blinker of the Escalade a ways later, took the exit, and the car rolled around the curving loop of the ramp and into the parking lot of the hospital. Nick closed his eyes and rocked himself more, afraid of what he might be about to see. Desi's voice had sounded so... distraught. There's been an accident.

The two boys got out of the car and walked across the lot and stopped at the reception desk. Howie asked for Kelsey and Nick worked at his phone texting Desi, and they waited in a couple of chairs as the receptionist promised to get some information for them. Nick put his head down by his knees and tried to breathe. Howie sat beside him, hand reached over and on Nick's back in a reassuring way.

"Mr. Carter?"

Nick looked up. An officer was crossing the foyer. Nick stood up, accompanied by Howie, and the cop approached them. He struck out his hand for Nick and Howie to shake and he said, "I'm Officer North. Desi asked me to come find y'all," he explained. He took a deep breath. "We need to go somewhere to talk first," he said slowly.

"Is she okay?" Nick asked.

Officer North didn't answer. He led the way across the lobby, nodded at the receptionist, who nodded back with apologetic eyes, and they continued on down the hallway. Officer North located a small waiting room with just a couple chairs in it, and beckoned Nick and Howie into the room. Nick immediately started pacing as the Officer closed the door behind them.

"You may want to sit down," Officer North advised, and Howie directed Nick into a chair.

Nick looked up at the cop. "Is she okay?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Officer North's eyes were sad as they met Nick's. He shook his head, "I'm sorry, son," he said thickly, "She was killed instantly."

The air wasn't air anymore.

Nick couldn't breathe, couldn't blink.

Howie's voice shook, "What... happened?"

"There was an accident," Officer North said and Nick recognized the tone that had been in Desi's voice. This was the same guy that had told Desi. His heart sank clear to his toes. "She was speeding and we think she was trying to merge into the lane for 65 South and didn't look and she struck another vehicle. She was thrown from the car." He swallowed. "She was pronounced dead at the scene."

Nick closed his eyes.

Howie leaned closer. "I'm sorry, Nick," he said.

Nick wove his fingers together behind his neck, staring down at his feet. He felt a shudder go through him, his breath became ragged. "Fuck," he choked. "Fuck. No."

Officer North hung his head apologetically, watching as Howie tried to comfort Nick.

"She can't be dead," Nick said, voice muffled from being doubled-over.

"I'm sorry, Nicky," Howie repeated.

Tears were streaming across Nick's face, his forehead and lips crumpled, skin turning red. "But I love her," he gasped, "I love her... please... Don't do this," he looked up at Officer North, "Please," he begged.

Officer North's voice was thick, "I'm sorry, son. We did everything we could do."

Nick felt like his heart was seizing, he breathed in body-quaking pants, his face soaked from the tears. "Can I see her?" he choked.

Officer North nodded.

"I wanna see her," Nick said.

"Is that a good idea?" Howie asked.

"I wanna see her, D," Nick pleaded.

Officer North said lowly, "Many family members find it easier to cope if... they see." Howie nodded, and he stood up, helped Nick up, and the three of them stepped out into the hallway.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Unstable Art of Moving On


Desi was sitting in the hallway when Nick, Howie, and Officer North stepped off the elevator. He was staring at the wall, his eyes unfocused and red-rimmed, and his hands were shaking, nervously spinning the brim of his hat around and around and around. He didn't even look up until they'd approached him and Officer North put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Desmond," he said.

He looked up and his eyes locked on Nick. So many emotions rushed forward through his veins. He wanted to jump up and choke Nick, wanted to tear him limb to limb. If it hadn't been for Kelsey wanting to go talk to him about the song he was stealing, about what had happened between her and Desi, then she'd still be laying there in his arms back at the hotel...

He's not a bad guy. He's just misguided. He's just confused. And you gotta give him a chance, you know? Just let him make it right. Kelsey's voice echoed in Desi's head.

Desi really looked at Nick, and instead of seeing the arrogant bastard that he usually saw, he saw... well, a bit of a mirror of himself. Red-rimmed eyes, a terrified, shell-shocked expression, a barely-contained need to beg for it to all be a dream... It was all there in Nick's face the same as it was in Desi's.

"Hey," Desi choked the words out.

Nick nodded, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat with emotion. He took a deep breath, "Is she really --?"

Desi nodded.

"You're - sure?"

Desi nodded again.

"Did you... see her?" Nick asked.

"I saw her," Desi said, voice only just above a whisper.

"Is she... bad?" Nick asked.

Desi pointed at the door with his eyes, "She's... a lil banged up..." he confessed. He felt sick.

"Can I see her?"

Desi moved to the door, and he took hold of the handle, hand shaking, pushed it open and led Nick inside. Officer North and Howie stayed in the hallway, Howie's hand sliding from Nick's back as he departed, a reassuring touch dropping away. Desi pulled the curtain back that surrounded the bed.

Kelsey lay there, still as could be, looking like Snow White after she bit the apple. Her hair rested on her shoulders, and her lips were pale, her skin drained of color. Her eyes were shut. She had a serious bruise running along one side of her face, and a busted lip. A scar would have resulted, if she were alive.

Nick moved a shaking hand to hers, laying at her sides, and he took hold of it. Her hand felt heavy and clammy and fake now but he held it anyway, imagining the feeling of her fingers tightening around his. He raised it to his mouth and kissed it and clutched it to his chest. "Fuck," he choked. "Oh God damn, Desi, I wanted it to be wrong. I wanted you to be wrong. I wanted it all to be wrong." He bent forward, curling around her arm.

Desi was staring into Kelsey's face, his heart breaking.

"I'll... leave you alone." Desi turned to the door. He didn't think he could handle being in there, looking at her like that. He stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. Howie and Officer North looked up. "Figured he might want a few minutes alone with her," Desi explained, and he sank into the chair again, covering his eyes.

If he'd had it his way, he would've kept the image of that smile - that glimmering, beautiful smile as she slid out the door - forever in his mind as the last time he saw her.

You do know that's making me wanna stay, don't you? I'll be right back, Des.

But she wouldn't be back.

"How long have you known Kelsey?" Howie asked.

"Birth basically," Desi mumbled into his hands.

"How long have she and Nick been dating?"

Desi shook his head, "I dunno, couple weeks. Month. Something like that."

Howie looked at the closed room door. "He fell hard and fast for her, huh?" he commented.

Desi nodded, eyes still covered. "It was hard not to. Kelsey was one of a kind."

Inside the room, Nick lowered her hand onto her chest and dropped himself into a seat beside the bed. He stared at her, his long fingers over his mouth, as though holding back words or sobs or something. He stood up and leaned over, looking down at her, then sat back down. He put on leg over the other, then switched them, then stood up again and walked around the end of the bed to the window. He stared out at the stars and the lights of the city away far off. Back to her, he said, "I told Howie. About the song. On the way here." He took a deep breath and studied the window sill, his hands upon it. "I feel guilty, Kels. About the song, about Desi, about... this." He let out the breath he'd just taken and shook his head, his eyes blurring up. "I really fucked up this time, I really did, 'cos there was so much I wanted to do for you, y'know? I know I ain't been the best, but we were just gettin' started, and I have potential, you know?"

Kelsey, of course, did not reply.

Nick turned back to her, walked over to the bed, "And I can't even say sorry for being a fuck up. I can't even try to make it better 'cos you ain't here anymore, are you?" He lowered onto the chair again, but leaned forward and put his chin on her arm, staring up at her face. "Kelsey, I'm so sorry."

You gotta make it right, Kelsey's voice echoed in his mind, Promise me you'll make it right.

"I promise," Nick repeated outloud in a whisper. "I promise Kelsey, I promise no matter what it takes I'ma make it right now."

The door creaked open behind him and Howie stepped into the room awkwardly. He stepped closer to Nick, put a hand on his shoulder. "Buddy, they need to take the body away."

Nick nodded.

"I think Desi needs another moment with her before they go," he whispered.

Nick closed his eyes. Of course Desi should have the last moment with her, of course, it only made sense. He struggled to his feet, eyes still closed, and paused, gathering strength together. Then he opened his eyes, and turned away, his hands shaking. He followed Howie into the hallway, forcing himself not to look back.

Desi nodded at Nick before stepping into the room. A couple guys in dark maroon scrubs were standing outside, holding a clipboard, and Nick sat in the seat Desi had occupied as the door closed. Nick looked up at the two guys in scrubs. "I want her to have the best - the absolute best of everything," he said.

They nodded, "Of course, sir."

"Whatever the cost."

"Yes sir."

Nick looked down at the tile and rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn't enough to pay for the funeral, it wasn't enough to get her a coffin of the finest wood or a place in a cemetery overlooking the most beautiful landmarks the city had to offer. He knew that alone wouldn't make it right, not the way she'd meant it in his kitchen. He knew he had to figure out how to make it right for Desi.

"I dunno what to do, D," Nick whispered.

Howie sighed quietly, "Nobody does in these types of situations, Nicky," he mused, staring off down the hallway, "Nobody does. That's why moving on is such an unstable art."

Meanwhile, in the room, Desmond walked up to Kelsey's side, took her hand off her chest where Nick had laid it and held onto it for a long moment before putting it back to her hip. He took a deep breath. "So listen," he said, "I need you to know this... just in case it gets lost in everything that's gonna happen soon." He leaned over her, staring into her soft features. "What happened between you and me this week... where I told you I loved you and you took off and then showed up tonight angrier than a bear, and we kissed and made love and you told me -- you said -- you said you loved me..." Desi shook his head, "Tonight was the best night of my entire life. Well, aside from, you know, this ending..." He bit his lip. "My point is, I -- I think it needs to be our secret, don't you?" He glanced at the door. "That guy out there... you're right. He's not a bad guy. He is misguided. And you better be right about this whole me giving him a chance thing, 'cos I'm gonna, just for you..." Desi sighed. "I know you loved me, Kelsey, that's what matters to me. Whether he knows it or not..." He stared down at her hands. "Well, I think we owe him to not tell him, don't you?"

Kelsey, of course, did not reply.

"That all said," Desi's throat felt like it swelled. He sniffed, he shook his head, looked away a moment, muttered, "Shit." Tears filled his eyes. He stepped back a moment and took a couple deep breaths, then turned back to her. "Kelsey, I love you... I love you more than -- than anything." He leaned over her again, and pressed his lips against hers. They were cold, and they didn't give or push back as a response. They just were. And Desi pulled back and he stared at her closed eyes, at her pretty ol' eyelashes, and he whispered, "Good bye, Kelsey."

He turned away and walked quickly to the door because he didn't know if he could bear it. He stopped, just before he pulled the door handle open and he stared back at her. "Our secret, Kels," he said, and he pulled it open and stepped into the hallway.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: You're Comin' Home With Me


"You can't go back to that hotel all alone," Nick insisted as he, Howie, and Desi reached the lobby of the hospital.

Desi could barely believe he was willingly walking out of the place without Kelsey by his side. He felt shaky. "I don't have anywhere else to go," he replied, shrugging. "And all my stuff is there."

"You're comin' home with me," Nick answered. "We'll get your stuff." Desi nodded numbly, too exhausted and empty to argue, and erased the already-dialed number of the local cab company from the screen of his cell phone. "I think we need to stick together," Nick said as Desi shoved the phone into his pocket. "That's what she wouldda wanted."

Desi followed Howie and Nick across the parking lot, and a strange feeling came over him as they stepped through the hospital's doors. To the casual observer, they were just three guys leaving the building. Had it been any other building on any other night in the world, the walking would have been no special event, would've carried no weight to it. But tonight it was something so terrifyingly ordinary in the wake of a monumental destruction. Every step carried them further and further away from Kelsey, or at least from what remained of her.

They all climbed into the Escalade, Howie behind the driver's seat and Desi in the back, and a thick pressing silence fell over the three of them. Howie sent a text to the other guys back at the house, preparing them for what had happened. After a few moments, he glanced between Desi and Nick. "You guys ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," Nick replied. Desi thought he'd never be ready, but he nodded anyway, mechanically, staring out the window at the hospital's glowing lights. He watched them as Howie pulled away, turned in his seat to keep them in his vision until, like every light, they faded with distance and obstruction. He buried his face in his hands.

"We gotta get Desi's stuff," Nick intoned a little ways down the highway, just before the exit they needed to take to get to the hotel. Howie followed Nick's instructions and before long they were pulling into the lot where earlier that evening Desi's car had been parked and a knot formed in his gut. He'd loved that car, too. He'd called it Molly, put together the engine from spare parts, reupholstered it, installed a stereo...

He couldn't believe he was even thinking about the car. What a terrible person he was.

Desi stumbled out and climbed the stairs to the room, Nick and Howie stayed in the Escalade.

The room looked the same as it had earlier. The lamp was still glowing on the nightstand next to the alarm clock, the sheets and blankets were still a tangled web, twisted and turned with their bodies as they'd moved together among them just hours before. Desi stood staring from the doorway, willing her to appear in the room somehow, to come out of the bathroom suddenly, her hair wrapped up in a towel on her head like a turban, her mascara only on one eye.

Slowly, he moved into the room, collecting all his stuff in a daze, shoving crumpled papers and clothes and cellphone chargers into his suitcase in a terrible ratnest. He put the bath soap she used into a plastic bag, along with the hair brush she'd left behind when she'd gone to Nick's the week before, and he put them into his suitcase, too. He was about to leave when he remembered the tank top, buried among the sheets on the extra bed that had been hers. He pulled it from between the blankets and held it to his face, pressing it right against his nose, breathing deeply, and closing his eyes. The abstract colors, shapes, sounds, and smells of the evening flooded him, and he took a few moments to just breathe them in and relish them. Then he shoved the tank top into a plastic bag, too, and sealed it tight, in hopes that the smell might be preserved.

After checking out of the hotel, he got back into the Escalade, his suitcase at his side, hands shaking.

The ride back to Nick's place in Cool Springs was long, blurry and silent. None of them knew what to say to each other. Nick was glad that Howie was there to drive - he didn't think he could've driven himself safely, really, and he licked his lips as he stared at his hands, thinking how helpful Howie was, like a real brother. He hoped he could be like a real brother to someone one day, but it was something that had always eluded him - even with his own, actual real brother. Nick kinda felt like he was dreaming, like everything was going just a little bit slower than it really should've been going. He wanted to ask Desi if Kelsey had said anything about him, but he was both excited for, and terrified of, the answer. After all, she'd left angry, and he didn't think he could bear to hear that she'd run to Desmond and spoke poorly of him that last time she'd ever thought of him.

But she was coming back to you, Nick reminded himself. She couldn't have hated you. She was coming back to you.

The headlights cut the dark as Howie pulled up to the gates that led into Nick's community and through the neighborhood. Nick stared out the window at the houses with their warm windows and realized that he hardly knew any of the people in the houses around his.

The Escalade came to a stop in the driveway in front of Nick's house and Howie cut the engine and they sat there once again in silence, the same silence that had filled the car back at the hospital parking lot. The sound of their breathing filled the cabin. Desi was still covering his eyes with his hands.

"The fellas are gonna be askin' questions," Nick said in a dazed mumbling voice.

"I texted them," Howie said, "They know."

"Who?" Desi asked, lifting his face from his hands.

"The other Backstreet Boys," Howie clarified. "We're all here. We were -- er, taping a song."

Nick moaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest of the seat.

Desi didn't have the energy to even feel annoyed at Nick for stealing the song. He felt so drained of every emotion - even anger - that he didn't think he'd ever feel again. "Oh," he said. And somewhere deep in him he knew that under normal circumstances it would've been unreal to meet all five of the Backstreet Boys like this, but tonight it just felt like more faces that didn't belong to Kelsey.

They stepped into the house and Nick's dog, Nacho, rushed into the hallway to greet them. He was excited, of course. Dogs don't understand things like people dying. Nacho leaped against Nick's knees and Nick struggled to lift him up and Nacho licked his face until Nick lowered him to carry him at the hip. Desi hung back, holding his suitcase, feeling like he didn't belong. Howie moved into the house, calling out names Desi knew he should know but having never been a huge Backstreet fan, he didn't really.

Kevin came out of the kitchen holding an empty plate and a dish cloth. "Come in here, I made food. You need to eat."

Nick shook his head, "I ain't hungry, Kev..."

"I don't care. You need to eat. At least a little. Get in there." Kev waved Nick by and then he turned to Desi. "I'm Kevin. Kevin Richardson. You must be Desmond?" he asked. When Desi nodded, Kevin pulled him into a hug and said, in a deeply sincere tone, "I'm so very sorry for your loss, brother." He patted Desi's back, then released him. "Come eat something." He led the way through Nick's house and into the kitchen.

The kitchen smelled strong of beef stew and Nick was already sitting at the table, absently scratching Nacho's head, although Nacho now seemed to want to get down, his legs flailing. Nick was staring straight at the table before him. As Desi entered the room, the guy sitting next to him at the table looked up. "Hallo Desi," he said. "Brian." He jumped up and offered Desi his chair.

Desi fell into it dazedly. "Thanks," he muttered.

Kevin poured soup into two bowls and dropped them in front of Nick and Desi. Nick stared at it as though willing it to disappear without him having to put in the effort of actually lifting a spoon... Desi thought to himself how good it smelled, but how certain he was he couldn't keep anything down in his stomach just yet. Still, Kevin gave them each a spoon and stood, hovering, waiting to see that they ate. Brian sat down across from them.

Brian stared at Nick with such caring, concerned eyes... Desi turned away because it felt almost sacred, the worry that was happening between the two of them. He picked at the soup, mostly just sipping the broth. Nick did the same, he noticed. Despite how little he was eating, Desi appreciated the fact that the soup was really good.

AJ and Howie joined them in the kitchen a few minutes later and they pulled up some chairs from other rooms and soon the six of them were all gathered around the table as Nick and Desi ate. "Sucks man, it sucks," AJ muttered, shaking his head. "I only just met her, y'know, but I really liked her."

"I liked her too," Howie intoned. "She seemed nice."

Brian nodded. "I think I freaked her out though when I flipped over the far back of your Escalade," he chuckled.

Nick couldn't help but laugh. He'd seen the surprised, raised-eyebrows expression that had been on Kelsey's face that afternoon at the airport, the expression that had led him to warn her that the guys were batshit crazy. These four insane, wonderfully loving guys that had changed from exuberant-bandmates to caring-best-friends in a matter of a simple text message. Nick couldn't imagine life without these guys in it, and he wondered how it was that he'd ever allowed himself to think he could live without them, that they weren't worth stopping the drinking. He wondered how he possibly could've believed that alcohol was better than these guys around a table.

Nick felt himself tearing up just thinking about the things he'd wagered in his life, and the chances he'd took that had landed him here.

"It's gonna be okay, buddy," Brian said, seeing the mistiness of Nick's eyes. He reached over and put his arm around Nick's shoulder and he turned and flung an arm over Kevin's shoulders on the other side of him. AJ did the same to Howie and Nick and Howie flung his arm over Desi and Desi looked up, confused as Kevin reached across the table and included him in this strange, make-shift round-the-table group hug... He realized, looking around the fellas at the table, that this wasn't a band that he was sitting with, this was a family, fused together by hard times and the experiences of moving on together.

And they were including him.

"It's gonna be okay," Brian repeated.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Good Friend


They sat up in the little around-the-table powwow until the small hours of the morning, and the sun creaked through the window in the kitchen. AJ put his head down on the table and his eyes drooped dangerously close to sleep. "I think it's time we all go to bed," Kevin announced finally, standing up and taking the two cold bowls of stew remains from the table and putting them into the sink. The other guys moved from the table, too, except AJ, who Kevin roused with a nudge to the shoulder.

"Bed?" AJ mumbled.

"Yeah, c'mon," Kevin answered. He herded Brian and AJ to the couches in the living room and game room, then Howie onto the one in the studio upstairs.

When it was just the three of them, Nick murmured, "Kelsey was using one of the two guest rooms."

Desi volunteered, "I'll take Kelsey's room. I -- I'm used to her... being there. All her stuff and everything."

Nick stared at the door like it might be haunted.

Desi turned and pushed it opened, took a deep breath, then said, "Well... night." And he stepped inside.

Kevin turned to Nick as the door closed behind Desi. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern on his brow. Nick wasn't sure he'd ever be okay again. But he nodded anyways. "You sure?" Kev pressed.

Nick shrugged. "I will be I guess," he answered. He hesitated, a question that had bothered him all night finally coming to his mouth. "Kev?"

"Hmm?"

Nick chewed his lip. "Well see, I know what Howie and Brian say about it... but... I dunno... Whenever they talk about it, Heaven sure seems really... I dunno, boring... with like the harps and agels and clouds and lights and shit." He paused. "Kev, it ain't boring, right? There's shit to do, right? Music that isn't the crap on the Christian radio stations?"

Kevin smiled, fighting back a chuckle at Nick's honest, childlike question. "Nobody really knows, Nick," he said, "But I mean, God made everything, right? And he didn't make us a boring ass earth, did he?"

Nick shook his head, "Nawh."

"So why would he make heaven any different?" Kevin posed.

Nick nodded slowly.

Kevin put his hand on Nick's shoulder. "Go to bed, buddy. Get some sleep. There's a lot of growing up to do in the mornin'."

Nick nodded as Kevin guided him toward the bed room. "Thanks, Kev, for being here," Nick said.

Kevin nodded. "I'm proud of you," he said, "And not just for the song, either, you know that, right? I'm proud of you, just being you."

Nick felt his throat tighten. He'd waited for those words for years, it seemed. If he wasn't completely cried out already he would've teared up at them just 'cos he'd waited so long for it. "Thanks Kev," he murmured.

"Night, lil Bro," Kev said, and he turned and headed for the second guest bedroom at the end of the hallway.

"Night Kev," Nick whispered.

When he went in the room, Nick stood in the doorway, looking around for a moment at the messiness of the room. The sun was coming in through the blinds, and he walked over and tugged them shut. He knew he should listen to Kevin and get some sleep, but instead, he sat down at the desk he had in the corner, grabbed a notebook and his guitar... and started to write.




In the guest bedroom, Desi had his eyes closed, breathing in the smell of Kelsey that permeated the air. In fact, the room smelled so strongly of her that when Desmond had his eyes closed like this, he could almost convince himself it was the late eighties and he was standing in Kelsey's childhood bedroom back home in Brockton, singing her Beach Boys songs when she couldn't sleep when she got the chicken pox in fourth grade. (He'd gotten them immediately following - probably because he'd spent half the time she was sick up in her room singing her Beach Boys songs). He sat on the bed, absently humming Don't Worry Baby, and looked at the nightstand.

Kelsey had an old photograph of them together leaning against the lamp. The photo was an old Polaroid, and she'd torn it in half and taped it back together at some point -- and sometime recently, Desi thought, because the colors hadn't started yet to fade from the edges of the tear like they did with most photos. She'd probably ripped it in a fit of anger that very week, Desi thought, remembering the anger in her face when she'd shoved him on the steps when he'd followed her out, moments before he'd confessed his love to her.

He lifted the photo. He could remember the moment it was taken - by a roving photographer in the parking lot of a fair up in New Hampshire. The guy had handed them a business card and told them if they wanted the picture to stop by his booth later on. Desi had been laughing, carrying Kelsey like a sack of potatoes over his back, forcing her to face her fear of heights and ferris wheels. She'd been shrieking and kicking her legs at his chest, though laughing the entire time. He smiled as he remembered her decision that ferris wheels weren't so bad after all, now that she'd been up in one -- but then nothing's too scary when I'm with you, she'd added.

He sighed and put the photo back on the night stand, and laid back into the pillows where her scent was so strong he felt like he could've drowned in it. He closed his eyes and imagined the weight of her, the way she felt when he held her, remembering the feeling of her eyelashes scraping against his chest as she blinked.

Desmond fell asleep like that, laying in the smell of her, and he dreamt long about the future they could've had if they'd only been given the time in which to create it.




Nick could hear everyone else getting up by the time he'd finished writing. He stared down at the scribbly notes and messy lines, arrows, and cross-outs he'd made all over his notebook page. He nodded slowly, then tossed the notebook onto his desk and slid the guitar to the floor. He crawled across the bed, and dropped face-first into the pillows, closing his eyes.

It was only a couple moments into sleeping when there was a knock at his door. He didn't answer, but the door opened anyways, and Howie stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, put his hand on Nick's back. "Nick," he said, "We gotta talk."

Nick rolled over and looked up at Howie. He took a deep breath and realized some part of him had been expecting this moment when Howie would wanna talk about the song after the blurting confession Nick had made in the car. He could see the disappointment already teetering on the edges of Howie's expression. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yesterday... in the car..." Howie paused. "Nick, who wrote the song?"

Promise me you'll make it right...

I promise.

"Desi did," Nick said softly.

Howie's eyes became fully vested in sadness and Nick felt like shit. He diverted his eyes from Howie's, but he could still feel them on him, even though he couldn't see them. "Didn't you think we'd find out Nick?"

"I bought all the rights from the song," Nick mumbled.

"Why would you do this?"

He chewed his lip. "Well... I -- I... I thought... I dunno. I just wanted you guys to - to be my friends again, and I thought writing a song was the only way y'all would be."

Howie shook his head, "We never stopped being your friends, Nicky."

Nick gave Howie The Look.

"Nick," Howie corrected himself. He smirked. "Buddy, we've always been your friends. Seriously."

"If I'd called any of you, you wouldn't have talked to me. All y'all would say to me was sober up, sober up. Y'all weren't my friends anymore."

Howie shook his head, "We did that cos we loved you and cared about you, man, not 'cos we weren't your friends. We just wanted to see you happy and healthy and... better."

Nick sighed. "Well it was easy to think ya'll weren't my friends no more," he said. "And I thought maybe if I wrote a really good hit song that y'all would ...I dunno, come back. I just wanted my friends back."

"Well you never lost us," Howie said, "But I mean why didn't you just tell us that? And man, screwing over Desi like that? He seems like a damn good friend. Why would you do that to Desi?"

A friend? Nick hadn't thought of Desi as a friend before. He'd been a New Guy at AA, then the Weird Guy with the Hot Girl at the Bluebird. Then he'd been the Songwriter Guy and finally Competitor for Kelsey's heart, but he'd never been a friend before. Although Nick wasn't sure why not. He liked Desi. Desi was funny, Desi was cool with that inherent kinda coolness that made Nick be, like, in awe, like he'd been with Kevin and Brian and Howie and AJ when he was thirteen... and they'd ended up being the best friends in the entire universe.

It'd just never occurred to him to look at Desi as a friend before.

But it made sense.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Everything Kelsey Wanted


Desi was awake long before he opened his eyes. He lay there, holding her. "Jesus, Kels," he muttered into her shoulder, "I had the most fucked up dream... You awake yet?" He opened his eyes. He was staring into a pillow. He released his arms from around it, rolled away and sat up. The pillow fell from the bed and onto the floor with a soft thump. The room was unfamiliar, but Kelsey's things were everywhere. He looked at the nightstand and the photo was there and the clock was reading early afternoon hours and the sun was peeking through the cracks in the blind. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing away the sleep.

"Nightmare," he whispered, "Nightmare was more the word, Kels... and it doesn't look as though I'm going to wake up from it." He covered his eyes with his hands.

It took him quite a while to come to terms with the idea that she wasn't there - that everything he'd thought for just a moment he might've dreamt was actually reality. When he did, he pulled himself out of bed, feeling heavy and empty and walked to the door, creaking it open and peering into the hallway. He could hear voices down the hall, and he followed them, his feet shuffling across the carpet.

The voices were coming from the home studio.

He peered in the half-opened door and saw Brian and Kevin. He didn't know where the other guys were, but these two were chatting. He knocked on the door frame and they paused, Kevin looked up and his eyes met Desi's and he smiled encouragingly. "Hey. You're up."

Desi nodded.

"How are you?"

Desi shrugged.

Brian got up and opened the door wider and beckoned Desi into the studio, so he stumbled in and sat down absently on the couch. He took a deep breath. They were both staring at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to sink into an emotional outburst. Desi reached for several sheets of music laying on the coffee table and pulled it toward himself, turning it so he could read it.

It was his song. With Nick's name on the top of the printed sheet.

"Nick wrote it," Kevin intoned.

Desi felt his mouth run dry. He pushed the sheet away. Somehow, when Kelsey had told him, part of him had hoped she'd been mistaken or something, but there it was, the proof in literal black and white.

"Yeah," Desi said, answering Kevin, "I see his name there on it."

"We all traveled in to record it," Brian explained, "Then...everything happened." He paused. "So what do you do, Desi?" he asked in a friendly sort of tone.

"Nothing, I suppose. I used to teach music. I worked at McDonalds a bit, but I quit that recently to become a songwriter."

"You write anything I might've heard?" Kevin asked.

Desi was still staring at the sheets he'd pushed away. He looked up at Kevin. "Nawh," he said, shaking his head.

"Maybe you can show us your writing sometime," Brian suggested, smiling. "We're always looking for new stuff. Especially now, we're going to need a lot of new stuff." He grinned at Kev. "Right, cuz?"

Nick and Howie came into the room then, and Nick looked at Desi, then saw the music sheets on the coffee table, pushed away and aiming toward Kevin again. Thank God, he thought, He didn't see'em yet. He swooped in and grabbed the sheets and turned toward the soundboard, wondering how the hell he was gonna get through Desi and the Boys being here in the studio where they'd talk about the song without his intricate little lie falling apart. He looked at Howie, as though expecting help, but Howie shrugged and set himself down in a chair.

"Where in hell is AJ?" Kevin asked, and he got up and left the room.

"Probably sleeping, you know what he's like in the morning!" Brian yelled after him. He turned to Desi. "Monster in the morning, that's what he is. Course Nick here usually is too. You already get your coffee, Nick?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't feel much like coffee today." He stared at the music sheets, then shoved them into a notebook on the soundboard. "I don't feel like much of anything today. I feel like shit today." He sighed. "I don't even know what all to do."

"Me either," Desi spoke up.

"It's weird, ain't it?" Nick said, "How the world just... keeps going?"

Desi nodded.

"Well have y'all thought about... like... funeral plans?" Howie asked awkwardly.

"The best," Nick answered, "The best of everything. On my dime. She gets everything."

Desi stared at his hands, wringing them slowly. "She wouldn't have wanted to be buried," he muttered.

"What?" Nick looked up.

"She was afraid of cemeteries," Desi said. "She wouldn't have wanted to be put in one. She's the scattered ashes type of girl." He took a deep breath, "She would've wanted to be cremated and scattered."

"Scattered where?" Nick asked, "Like the ocean?"

Desi shook his head, "Ever seen that move Elizabethtown? It was a Cameron Crowe film."

"No," Nick answered.

"I have," Brian said. "My wife's a big Orlando Bloom fan. Terrible, depressing movie if I remember right," Brian commented.

"Yeah it was pretty depressing overall," Desi agreed, "But the guy's father died and he went on a road trip and scattered the ashes everywhere he went. Kelsey would've wanted that kind of thing. She would've wanted to be everywhere all at once."

Nick rubbed his chin. "Okay. So. We'll do that."

"What?"

"We'll go on a road trip. We'll scatter her ashes everywhere. Cover the world with her." Nick's voice rose with excitement as he thought about the idea. "Or at least the country..."

Desi blinked up at Nick. "Where in the hell are we gonna road trip to?"

"I dunno, we could drive from here to LA," Nick replied.

Kevin came back in the room, towing half-asleep AJ behind him. AJ rubbed his eyes as he looked around the room at the fellas. "Sup?" he murmured.

"Here to LA?" Desi laughed, ignoring AJ and Kevin's arrival, staring at Nick as though he had fourteen heads. Desi felt his head spinning at the thought of it, at how stoked Kelsey would've been at the idea of going to Los Angeles. She would've been freaking out, jumping up and down, babbling on about putting her feet in the Pacific Ocean and all the crazy stuff they'd see along the way over there... He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're serious?"

Nick nodded. "Absolutely."

AJ glanced between the two of them. "What're we talkin' about?"

"Scattering Kelsey's ashes," Nick answered, eye-locked with Desmond.

AJ looked like he might be sick and lowered onto the arm of the chair Howie was sitting in. Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"I've made the drive before," Nick said, practically begging Desi now, "It ain't that bad a drive."

It had occurred to Nick how perfect this would be. It would be at least a week-long trip, and that week could give him the time he needed to talk to Desi, to right the wrong he'd done him with stealing the song. It could give them time to become friends, to change the past and to heal from losing Kelsey. Together. It was exactly what the two of them needed, he was sure of it. The open road would fix all of their problems. Every last one. He imagined arriving in Los Angeles a new man, just like he'd thought he would arrive in Nashville a new man when he'd left LA. Maybe Nashville had provided all the healing that he could expect it to bring now, maybe he needed to heal as he left Music City behind him.

Nick pictured showing Desi the bits and pieces he'd written the night before. Pictured the two of them working on it, making it perfect, and when he arrived to LA, he could confess his lie to Kevin, AJ, and Brian, and present them with a new song, and give the rights back to Desi for the old one and they could have two songs for the new album, all because of him. He pictured the fellas being twice as proud and Desi, too. And Kelsey.

Of course this was the answer.

It was how he would keep his promise.

It was everything Kelsey wanted.

"Okay," Desi said.