Separate Lives

"What's past is prologue..."

I think the first thing I ought to do is apologize for how long it took me to get this out. A lot of people asked when it would be out and I kept promising them that it'd be just a few days. And I consistently proved myself to be a liar. My life has been uncontrollably and horribly hectic in the last few months. But here it is. Finally.

Thank you to those of you who've stuck with me. To those of you who've sent me e-mails and have not gotten replies lately, I'm sorry. Once again, I have to blame it on a being busy. I'm trying to get back as quickly as I can, though.

Standard disclaimer applies: if you're not eighteen or are offended by this kind of stuff...well, I can't help that, but you really ought not to be here! In other words, go away!

Wow. I've kept it short...but the gallery still approacheth.

Oh, and the formatting of this one is a little different. Since we all know what's going to happen in the future (or maybe we think we do), I figured I'd just stick to the point of the main story, which is all in the past, so there isn't any of that "In the present/past" crap. This one jumps a little bit and it meanders, though, so watch out.

Anyway, on with the show...

Separate Lives Part V By Chris

"Josh," Alex groaned, out of breath, "come on. I'm almost there."

I looked up from what I'd been doing and grinned. "Yeah? So?"

"Well, are you going help me finish or are you going to leave me hanging?"

"Oh, all right," I sighed and got up, dropping my pen on the desk. It clattered against the sheet music I'd been working on, as I walked out into the living room. I shook my head, bemused, and went to help Alex move the heavy blue spruce he'd gotten for Christmas.

"Why did you get a tree this massive?" I grunted, thankful for the soft needles as I grabbed the upper branches and began to pull the tree toward the living room.

"Christmas has always been a big deal in my family," he panted. "We always get the biggest most beautiful spruces we can. Since you're part of the clan now, we're observing family traditions. Watch the top. Don't bend it."

"Fine," I said, as we finally got the tree next to the stand. "But you get to take it down yourself." The tree stand, red metal with green legs, rested on a white tree blanket. I bent down and checked to be sure the bolts were clear from the ring before lifting the tree and settling it in. While Alex held the tree, I tightened the bolts.

"Is it straight?" I asked, crouched into a tight ball underneath the lower branches.

Alex stepped back. "Yeah, we got it. Looks good."

I crawled out and stood up. The tree was indeed standing straight and tall. "We need to water it now, right?"

"Mm-hmm. I'll do it. I was always the first to water the tree in my family."

"Okay. I'll let you. If that's all, I need to get back to work."

Alex shrugged and ran his fingers absently through his hair, which had returned to its natural brown. "What are you working on now?"

"Oh, I'm fixing up something Brian and I were working on," I answered. "It's a great start, but it needs work. Then I have another half dozen pieces I need to work on. They want them by the day after tomorrow."

"How long is it going to take?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm just doing some prelim stuff on the sheet music. I'll be going down to the studio here in a little bit. I just want to test this stuff out. Want to help?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to help decorate?"

I feigned injury. "How dare you insult me like that," I said melodramatically. "I love decorating, and I wanted to do it with you. I mean, it's our first Christmas together."

He smiled. "Okay. Call me when you need me. I'll be in the shop." His shop was in the garage, where he worked on computers. He'd gotten a job working with a firm down here, and it allowed him to work out of the house, which was something he liked to do anyway.

I smiled at his back and returned to my study. I picked up my glasses with a grimace. Yeah, those were new. My eyesight had deteriorated slightly over the last year, so now I had to wear them. I was supposed to wear them all the time, but it was easy to forget. They were light wire frames and everyone said they looked good, but I still didn't like them.

Of course, the thought of losing my eyesight was something I didn't like either, so I put them on and returned to the task at hand. "Okay, take this down a minor third," I mused, making a change in the bridge. I heard the change in my mind and had to smile. It sounded better...lost, a little forlorn. "The chorus...hmm...this isn't right. Up a half, maybe?" I was pretty sure that'd work, but I'd have to test it out.

I was finished with that piece, mind full of the warm strands of music. It was like being in the middle of a sunny beach, surrounded by an invisible orchestra, playing whatever music you happened to be thinking about in the moment. Piano and violin, guitar and sax, all coming together in perfect concert. It made my heart feel doubly glad I'd decided to stick with the band.

The next two needed only minor revisions. They were songs I'd written with all five of them on the road, and really, I supposed they could have stayed the way they were, but being a perfectionist, I wanted them perfect. The other four weren't quite so simple. They were rough cuts of pieces that each one of the other four had started. So, in all, there were two by the entire group and one by each of the five. The last four took me around two hours just to smooth out what would be the opening lyrics.

I got down to the very last song and then threw down my pen in frustration. The bridge was way off, but I could not, for the life of me, get it to work. I wasn't too worried about it, so I gathered up all the sheets and headed downstairs to the studio. There was a very good reason my study and studio were in two different places. If I had my study downstairs, the temptation would be to simply throw out the sheet music and go right to the piano.

I couldn't do that. Management wanted sheet music and I had to get used to doing it that way. There was something way too confined about doing it like that, but I really didn't have much choice. Besides, any way I did it, I was still getting to write music.

As soon as the music was set on the bench, I walked back through the basement and opened the door to the shop. Alex was perched on a stool with some very small, delicate-looking computer chips in his hands. I waited until he was finished before speaking. I didn't want to ruin his concentration.

"Hey, you want to come give me a hand?"

He looked up, startled. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. I'll be right in there. I was just putting this chip on the board."

"I saw that. You've been at this for three hours now."

"So I have," he said, somewhat surprised. "That must mean you were working on your music for that long."

"Yeah, well, I've got almost all of it ready, I think."

"Cool." He hopped down and stretched his back. "Mm, remind me not to do that in the future. My back is killing me." He kissed my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "So it went okay?"

"I think so. I'm pretty sure that most of these are done." I took a seat on the bench, and Alex sat in his usual place, behind me. I started with Brian's song, aptly titled 'Brian's Song' and wound my way through it. We both agreed that it was finished. One down. The next five, all untitled, were done we found. Then we came to the last one. The one I hadn't finished on the page.

I got to the rough spot and missed it the first time. "That's the one place I'm not getting," I sighed, staring at the page, as if the answer would write itself for me.

Although he couldn't sing to save his life, Alex had an excellent ear for music. "Try raising that spot just before the chorus. Maybe if it goes up, it'll close that gap better."

I tried it, but knew the moment I started that it wouldn't work. "No. Hmm...well, let me try changing these notes around a little bit. That might tie it better." Struck out again. I tried five more times, different combinations of raising and lowering the key, changing notes, and even altering the rhythm, but it didn't help.

Alex left the room about an hour later, heading upstairs to start making something for dinner. I was puzzled and a little frustrated, when, another forty-five minutes later, I went upstairs to eat and had come no closer to fixing the problem.

"I just don't know what it is," I said, taking a forkful of Alex's wonderful beef stroganoff. "I've tried everything I can think of with the bridge and chorus. I just don't understand why it's not working. I've never had this much trouble with a piece of music before."

Alex grimaced sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my love. You know, you've been working awfully hard today. There must be a dozen different pieces of music running around in your head. It's no wonder you're having a tough time with this. Why not just give it a rest today and try again tomorrow."

I nodded. "Yeah. I've got the other five finished and I have two days, and I'm sure I'll figure it out. It'll just take a little bit of work."

"That's the attitude. So, do you want to decorate tonight?"

"Why not? We don't exactly have any other plans."

"That's right. Just a night at home for the two of us."

"The eighth straight," I said with a laugh. "And we have another seven weeks to go. Oh, but I do love to be at home with my man."

"Your man loves it when you're home."

"Well, I'll be around to pester you in January, since we're not leaving until early February. I just feel sorry for the guys. They're getting just this month, and then they're off for interviews, photo shoots, and stuff like that until we have to go South America." That was the next leg of the tour.

Alex looked a little puzzled. "So why do they need those new songs by the day after tomorrow?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I sighed. "I haven't the slightest idea. I mean, it's strange because 'Life on the Back Streets' has been out for six months and it's still moving almost two hundred thousand copies a week. From what I've heard, the next album isn't due out for almost another year."

"Maybe they just want to see what you've got so far."

"Well, we have over two dozen finished songs. We have plenty of material, even if I've written it mostly myself."

We really hadn't talked about this much. "How many did you do on the road?"

"Oh, by myself, I wrote twelve. The guys wrote four as a group, and then Kevin, Howie, and AJ each turned out one. Nick did two. That's twenty-one. Brian and I collaborated on three, and he did one with Jeremiah. I expect they'll discount the ones I wrote on my own, since they're pushing for the guys to show their talent." I shrugged. "But that's still thirteen songs, which is a pretty decent turn out."

"Didn't any of the other band help out?"

"A little. Andy tried, but didn't see himself as being very good at it, so he gave up. Meghan and Dennis helped out with two songs, and Jer did his collaboration with Brian."

"But you were the lead writer on all of the songs."

"Yeah. They seem to think I know what I'm doing, so they give me a piece of a chorus hook or a bridge and we go from there." I finished off the last bite of stroganoff. "It's no wonder I needed glasses. I spend most of my free time staring at music on a page."

"So take a break," Alex murmured.

I grinned. "In other words, quit my bitching?"

"Watch your language, young man," Alex admonished, trying to look serious, and failing. "Just for that, you can do the dishes tonight."

My grin widened as I reached over to kiss him across the table. I could taste the stroganoff on his breath, and it tasted nice. "I was planning on it anyway," I mumbled, pulling back.

"You liar," he said quietly, resting his forehead against mine. "You're just trying to get on my good side so I'll be your slave in the bedroom tonight."

"Pervert. You know I'm not into that kind of thing."

"Oh?" he said archly, raising his eyebrows. "If I recall correctly..."

"Shut up, Alex. Just shut up." I stood up and began to clear off the table. It took only fifteen minutes to get the kitchen cleaned up. I didn't mind doing it, but I hated having wrinkled fingers when I finished. "Raisin fingers," I commented, showing him.

He smiled and kissed the tip of each one. "I like it. All you need now is a little apron with a pink bow on it. My cute little house husband."

I smiled tiredly. "We aren't married, my dear. For one thing, we've only been living together for eight days, and for another, we've only been together for a few months."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll wait until January to propose." He laughed, face lighting up. He was the kind of person who laughed with his entire body, and it came out as a deep, contagious belly-laugh when he was especially struck. I loved to listen to him laugh, and I loved to listen to him talk. Even his sometimes-aggressive pursuit didn't bug me as much as it had in the past.

"January of 2002, maybe," I said. We were still in the year 2000, but not for long.

"How about May next year?"

"Okay," I shrugged. We were just kidding around. On my first night back, we'd had a long talk about the way things were going with the relationship. We'd decided, as we had before, to just take it a step at a time and not make any assumptions about the future, although we both knew, deep down, that neither of us were going to go to anyone else.

My feelings hadn't changed much, except to grow deeper and stronger. His had, too, apparently because when I'd stepped out of the bus, the first thing that had happened was that he'd wrapped me up in his arms and said that he'd never let me go again. I'd laughed and told him I didn't want to be let go. He didn't take his hands off me for the next three hours, until we got back to the house. Even through supper, which we'd eaten before going home, he kept his fingers intertwined with mine.

I hadn't been at all unhappy about that. And after being together for over a week, we were still both quite content. There hadn't been any bickering or arguing or anything like that. When I'd gotten home, he'd set up his stuff, and started unpacking mine for me, although he'd been a little bit nervous about it. I was actually happy that he'd done it and made sure to tell him.

The interior of the house was beautiful after we got everything set up. We had my lighter-colored furniture set upstairs and had set up Alex's southwestern stuff in the bigger family room in the basement. The lighter-colored furniture set off the mellow hardwood flooring and went nicely with the off-white wall color. We'd hung some of my pictures and things like that on the walls, and it felt like home. The spare bedroom upstairs became my study.

Alex had taken over the basement. His southwestern motif worked well with the pastels around the family room. The carpet was heavy and off- white down there, and his furniture worked with it. His bedroom (yeah, we had our own rooms, but mostly slept together in mine) was actually the biggest in the house, but that wasn't a big deal. He'd turned the spare room down there into a small game room. It was actually a large room; his pool table fit nicely inside.

I cleared my throat and reclaimed my hands. "Well, we ought to get going on the decorations." It was early December yet, but we didn't care. As he'd been doing a lot lately, Alex insisted that his family decorated early.

"That's probably a good idea," he said, but made no move to get up. I could see that he didn't really want to anymore.

I shrugged. "Or not. We could always do it tomorrow."

"Yeah." Suddenly, he stood up and threw me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "I have something else in mind for tonight."

I chuckled and went along for the ride. There really wasn't much else I could do. And besides, there was something even better waiting for me at the end of this particular ride.

The next day we went ahead and got the decorations up and then afterwards, I tried again to fix up the song. After two hours, I was ready to toss the entire piece out the window. It just didn't want to work out, so I tabled it. I couldn't really figure out how to change it without destroying the entire song. This had happened before and I didn't really see it as a big deal.

But the day after, management did. I walked into Jeff's office with a dozen pieces of music, not thirteen. "Here. I had to toss one of them out. I just couldn't get it to work."

Jeff's eyes, swimming behind his horn-rimmed lenses, showed his displeasure, as he looked through the music. He cleared his throat. "I thought we had two dozen pieces."

"Well," I said, "I wrote a dozen on my own, and since none of the Boys helped pen them, I figured you wouldn't want them."

"So we have how many?"

"A dozen."

"We need more than that," he said with quiet vehemence. "I was under the impression we had a lot more than this. This new album is going to have to really be a step up, if this ride is going to last much longer."

"So I'll bring in the stuff I wrote. What's the rush? I was under the impression we weren't putting out a new album until next December."

"We aren't, but we need the music so we know what we're dealing with. We're thinking about having you all demo these so we can see what they're going to be like."

I shrugged. "Once again, what's the rush? There are twelve months between now and then."

"Just bring them by tomorrow, okay? We'll go through all of them in the next couple of weeks and then we'll have you make whatever changes you'll need to make."

I didn't like the condescension in his voice, but I didn't say anything about it. "I've got them with me, if you'd rather."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

"You didn't ask." I was feeling decidedly moody just then, edgy and irritable. It just settled over me like a fog, and it made me aware of the fact that I wasn't in the mood to take any crap from this guy. I walked back out to my car and grabbed the other folder. I'd brought it just in case.

"Here are another dozen, to bring the total to an even two dozen. Is that enough for you?"

"For now. Thank you." He dismissed me with a nod.

I grunted out something that approximated a farewell and took off, grateful to get out of there. Still kind of grumpy, I returned to the house. Alex was out, but he'd left me a note letting me know where he was going, with whom, and when he'd be back. Good. I went into my studio and pounded on the keyboards for half an hour. Some of my frustration went away, but not all of it, so I went into the main garage. Alex had set up a forty-pound punching bag and I had a go at that for a while. That seemed to do the trick.

In fact, I'd worked up a good sweat when Alex came back in the house with a bag of groceries. He grinned. "Glad I'm not the only one using that."

"It was just one of those days," I sighed, taking the grocery bag from him. "I don't know why, but Jeff was being kind of a dick when I went to see him."

"Watch your mouth, young man."

"Can't see it," I said. "Sorry, Daddy."

He started to hug me and then promptly pushed me away. "Gross. You're all sweaty. Go take a shower."

"Only if you take it with me, lover."

Alex's brown eyes sparkled mischievously. "Not just yet, my dear boy. Go take your shower, and maybe later this evening, we'll talk. Maybe if you'd kept a cleaner mouth, I'd fill-"

"Don't you dare say what I think you're going to say!" I cut him off. "Now who's got a dirty mouth?"

"No, you've just got your mind in the gutter. I was just going to say that if you hadn't cursed like that, I might have considered, um, filling the tub for you. But now, no." He was lying through his teeth.

"Right," I snorted. "I'll just bet."

He swatted my bum. "On with you."

I laughed as I headed to take a shower. When I came out, Alex was singing in his badly off-key tenor. It wouldn't have been so bad but for the fact that he was caterwauling at the top of his lungs. I could hear him back in my bedroom. Grinning, I threw on a pair of black slacks and a black silk shirt, and walked out into the kitchen barefoot.

"You know," I said, "the neighbors have just called the police. Sounds like someone was murdering a dog in here."

Alex jumped, startled, but when he turned his head, he was grinning. "Aw, you're just mad because I didn't come up to serenade you in the shower."

"Glad, I think, is the right word, my dear."

He kissed my cheek. "You smell much better." He was such a stickler for cleanliness. When I'd lived alone, I was a pretty clean person myself, but next to Alex, I was an out-and-out slob. It wasn't just the house. He couldn't stand to be dirty at all, and I didn't blame him. I hated going without showers.

"So, what did you do today?"

"Work, work, work," he sighed. "After I left this morning, there was some sort of crisis at some office that I had to slog my way through. Turned out to be nothing more than a small, harmless virus. Somebody panicked. It took me maybe five minutes to clear the system for them and restore order. But, on the bright side, I got a chance to get out of the office for a while." He started chopping up an onion. "Did you talk to Kevin today?"

"Yeah," I answered. "They're all coming tonight before they head home." All of the Boys and the band were coming over for a last little feast before breaking up for the next three weeks.

"What time?"

"Seven or thereabouts."

Alex nodded. I went to stand behind him and massaged his shoulders. They were tight and tense. It must have been a more difficult day than he'd let on. But after five minutes, he was almost purring under my hands. "You have a hundred years to stop doing that," he murmured. "You've got the most talented hands."

"You're welcome. Nothing's too good for my baby."

"Well, as much as I'd love to get a total body massage right here in the kitchen, I have to get dinner ready. You want to be my helper?"

"What do I need to do?" I asked.

"Set the table for me."

"Okay." I reached for the stack of plates on the bar.

Everyone started showing up around seven. They straggled in in groups of two or three. Kevin and AJ showed up together, both without their girlfriends. I'd told them to go ahead and bring them, but both had declined, and I didn't know why. Andy, Meghan, and Dennis all showed up together. Then came Nick and Howie, and lastly Brian and Jeremiah.

It was a good thing the house was so big. There was plenty of room for all of us upstairs. I played host, while Alex slaved away in the kitchen, but Andy and Meghan, who seemed to come as a set a lot lately, went in to give him a hand. I passed out drinks and finished setting the table. It wasn't really a formal affair, but it kind of felt like it.

"So," I started at one point, "you guys looking forward to seeing your families?"

"Definitely," Kevin and Howie said at the same time, and then burst out laughing. "It's been way too long," Kevin sighed. "I'm afraid they'll forget what I look like."

"How's that possible?" Jer asked, from his position underneath Brian. "They've got to see your face on TV all the time."

"True enough. But they don't get to see me in person all the time." He glanced over at his cousin and then smiled. "Brian, you've been awfully quiet lately. What's up with you? You coming back to Kentucky or not?"

"No," Jeremiah answered curtly for Brian. "We're going to spend Christmas with my family this year."

I frowned a little. Something about the way that had come out...I shook my head and changed subjects. "So, Brian, you enjoying the vacation?" I asked, cheerfully.

He didn't answer right away. It was as if he had to process the fact that someone was talking to him before he started to think. His eyes seemed just a little dull as they found mine. "Hmm? Oh. Oh, sure. Nice to get away from the road once in a while."

"Why aren't you spending Christmas with your parents?"

Again, the answer was slow in forthcoming. "Oh, because I saw them not too long ago, and Jer de-uh,...wanted to see his, since it's been longer."

I broke eye contact, frowning deeply, and shot a glance at everyone around the table. Their eyes showed the same puzzlement I felt. Something was definitely out of whack here, and we all knew it. But rather than saying anything about it, we just started talking about other things with forced joviality.

But in the back of my mind, I wondered. Jeremiah had always been the domineering type when I'd known him before. He seemed more open now, affable, even. He smiled a lot more than he used to, but there was something about that smile, I observed, as I sat there. I hadn't noticed it before, but there was something...not quite right, I guess, just under the surface. It bothered me just a little, but again, I didn't say a word about it. Part of that was because I thought I might be a little jaded toward Jer and wasn't giving him the benefit of the doubt.

In fact, it had all but slipped my mind half an hour later. Brian suddenly came to life and started telling jokes with only a little less than his usual gusto. He and Nick and AJ had the table in stitches until Alex called me into the kitchen to bring out dinner. He'd made a chicken dish that smelled heavenly, and had all kinds of vegetables, rice, breads, and stuff like that.

While we ate, we all talked some more. The ten of us who'd been on the road recounted some of our more fond memories of the trip. Someone asked what my favorite place had been. I grinned and answered Denver, of course. But there were still memories. When I'd been there, they'd always been in the back of mind. I'd sought out Jer for a few minutes and we'd gone back to the old neighborhood. Just once.

Someone calling my name snapped me out of my reverie. "Josh? Hey, Josh?"

I shook my head slightly to clear out the old ghosts. "Hmm?"

It had been Kevin. He smiled. "You know, you're starting to do that entirely too often for my taste."

"Sorry," I said, blushing a little. "What did you say?"

"S'okay. No, um, Alex said that you went and saw Jeff today. Why?"

"Well, he wanted all that music we wrote on the road. I fixed it up and gave it to him. Mine too."

Kevin looked puzzled. "Why? We're not even supposed to start recording for another six months."

I shrugged. "He said it was because he wants to, uh, keep you going or some damn thing like that. Said something about wanting it to be a step up if you want to keep going."

"What?" From the tone of Kevin's voice, it was obvious he'd not known about this. It was also pretty clear he didn't like it.

"You didn't know?"

He shook his head, green eyes troubled, black eyebrows drawn into a deep furrow. "No. What else did he say?"

"He said he was probably going to have us demo this music and change it before it went into production, and I'd have to make any changes necessary." It was my turn to look puzzled. "What's the big deal?"

He sighed and shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I guess it's not. It's just strange. You'd think he'd tell us about it."

I didn't answer. Instead, I got up and started clearing the plates off the table. Alex got up and started to help. When we were alone in the kitchen, he pitched his voice low. "What was that all about?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," I said, equally as quiet.

"Oh." He picked that moment to go erotic on me. He pinned me up against the wall and kissed the living daylights out of me, while I stood utterly powerless to resist. We might have actually gone further had AJ not cleared his throat from the doorway.

Alex jumped back, smiling guiltily. "Um, w-was there something you needed, AJ?"

AJ grinned broadly, dark eyes reflecting his deep amusement. "Well, we were just wondering where our two hosts went. The guys just wanted me to see if everything was all right. Got something stuck in your throat, huh, Josh?"

I turned as many shades of red as humanly possible. "Uh...um...I, uh, yeah. That...that's it. Sure."

AJ burst out laughing, and then Alex followed suit. Taking me by the hand, he pulled me back out into the dining room. I wasn't laughing, and I was still bright red. He pushed me into my chair, saying, "That'll teach you to eat so much so fast."

I shot him a dirty look as the others around the table expressed their concern. After a few minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. "I wasn't choking," I said, breaking into a sunny smile. "Alex was trying to give me a tonsillectomy without his hands, if you know what I mean."

Alex, who'd taken a big drink of water, spit it out all over the table. It was his turn to give me a dirty look, but he grinned. "Well, I can't help it. You're just so gosh-darn cute."

There were a few smiles, but more gagging noises around the table. I smiled just for Alex. "Well, play your cards right and I'll let you finish, Doctor Alex."

"Okay, okay," Dennis called out, throwing up his hands. His voice was very deep, but it boomed out of his narrow chest. Dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief, he said, "Yo, I don't know about the rest of these guys, but I don't wanna see anymore of this."

"Yeah, really," Howie added, grinning from ear to ear. "Get a room, boys."

"If you'd go home, we could."

"Oh, so that's how you are," Brian jumped in, feigning injury. He winced suddenly in pain.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked him. He'd been a little quiet for the last little while, and his eyes were dark and troubled. Brian was the reason why, and I wanted to talk to him a little later about it.

"Fine," Brian grunted, still wincing. "Just got a stitch in my back." He shifted a little bit on Jer's lap, and I saw then why he'd been in pain. Jeremiah was digging his knuckles into the kidney area of Brian's back. I don't know if anyone but me saw it, but Jeremiah knew he'd been caught and dropped his fingers.

"Why were you doing that?" I asked him.

"Doing what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Don't give me that," I said. "I saw what you were doing to him."

"Josh," Brian sighed, "don't worry about it. I'm fine. Really."

The others looked slightly alarmed, but after Brian's repeated assurances that he was fine, we all dropped it. Not too much later, everyone started to leave. Jeremiah dragged Brian out first. Dennis, Andy, and Meghan left next. That just left AJ, Nick, Howie, Kevin, Alex, and me.

"What the hell was that all about?" I asked, once Andy and company were gone. "With Jeremiah and Brian?"

Kevin leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling. This had been bothering him for a while, that much was clear from the set of his shoulders. "I don't know, but this is bugging me. I mean, Brian...he's been acting different lately."

Alex cleared his throat. "Do you mean the way it seemed to take a minute before he realized someone was talking to him?"

"You noticed that, too, eh?"

I nodded and decided to jump in. "Yeah. Where did that come from? I know it's been a week since I've seen any of you, but it seems to me that it wasn't even really like that at the end of the tour."

"Only around the last few days," Nick piped up. He looked as bothered as Kevin. "I didn't think anything about it then, but I wanted a chance to do something with him when we were in Detroit, but he said he couldn't because Jeremiah didn't want him to."

That smacked of the old Jeremiah. "Is that how he said it?"

"Mm-hmm."

Oh man. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but this didn't sound good. Or maybe I was just grabbing at shadows. "Hmm. Has it happened again since?"

Nick thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, it has. I called him two days ago because I hadn't seen him since we got back, but he said he couldn't go out. Didn't give a reason. He just said that Jeremiah didn't want him to go out."

Maybe I wasn't grabbing at them after all. But I wasn't really ready to concede anything yet. I didn't know why I was defending Jeremiah. To be honest, I think I was just trying to give the guy a fair chance. After all, he and Brian had been together for damn near a year already and nothing like this had happened before. I could see similar versions of the same thought going through everyone's mind.

"You know, maybe he just wanted some time alone with Brian," I offered.

AJ looked at me carefully, dark eyes clearly projecting the fact that he thought I was off my rocker. "Josh, come on. You don't really believe that, do you? You've known Jeremiah longer than any of us have. Has he really changed that much?"

This wasn't something that I'd talked about with them. But I did then. I told them all about who he used to be without telling them much about myself. I told them about a young man who'd been a domineering asshole, a young man who'd beaten girls who turned him down, and a young man who beat his girlfriends up in front of us just to prove what a macho man he was.

I shrugged and spread my hands helplessly. "He's changed a lot, obviously. For one thing, he's not into girls anymore. And he seems more open and pleasant. I mean, you talk to him and he's friendly, he smiles, and he tells me time and time again that all he wants to do is move on with his life."

Nobody said anything for a while. AJ finally cleared his throat. "You know, we met him at a party, and he did seem like pretty nice guy then. I liked him on the spot, and I still do...but there's something about him..." He trailed off and sighed. "What got into you, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"You looked like you were about to deck him there for a minute."

"Didn't you see what he was doing?" No one had. Of course. I sighed. "He was digging his knuckles into Brian's kidney. When Brian moved, I saw it, and that's why I flipped. The way he was doing it...I guess it was just reminiscent of the old days." I felt a hand on my elbow and turned to give Alex a reassuring smile.

"You don't like him very well, do you?" Kevin asked.

I shook my head. "Not particularly. I keep getting the mental image of a wolf in sheep's clothing around him. He just smiles too much for me. But I think that's probably just because I've known him at his worst. What do the rest of you think?"

The four of them exchanged glances. Nick was quick to speak up after a moment's thought. "I didn't like him much at first, but after we got to know him, he seemed okay. I just didn't like him monopolizing all of Brian's time. Now...I don't know what to think."

"Same here," Howie said. "I liked him okay from the start. He was a little quiet, but not overly rude or anything. He's very bright, and not egotistical about it. I like that about him."

"I'm with Nick," Kevin jumped in. He sounded tired. "After we got to know him, he seemed like a decent person. He's been pretty good to Brian and he hasn't hurt him. I know we gave them both a bad time at first, but they stuck with it and I have to give Jer credit for not giving up. But I'm still a little worried. It's not like Brian to just blow off the family like that."

"Well, what can we do?" Howie asked quietly, from Nick's right.

Kevin looked toward Howie and shrugged. "Probably nothing. I mean...Brian will talk to his mom and explain everything to her. She likes Jer, and I don't think she's going to worry too much about them. I think I just be jumping at shadows."

"Do you know where Jer's parents live?" Nick asked. He didn't sound as convinced as Kevin.

"Somewhere in town, I think."

It was Nick's turn to sigh. "I guess if Brian's happy, then we really shouldn't do anything to mess that up. I just...I miss my friend."

"We all do," Howie sighed. "But all we can do is be happy and be there for him. And give Jeremiah the benefit of the doubt. It's easy to make him out to be the bad guy and he really hasn't done anything to deserve it."

I wasn't so sure about that, but I decided not to argue. I'd always wonder. "You're right as always, Howie. I was just thinking the same thing. We really ought to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give it time. That's all any of us can do."

AJ nodded. "When was the last time he saw his family, Kevin?"

"I don't know. I guess it was before we hit the road." He looked toward the door. "I think you're all right. I mean, Brian's happier than I've seen him in a long time, and there's no point wrecking that." He stood up. "AJ, I guess we ought to be going. I'm heading out early tomorrow."

AJ nodded and also got to his feet. "That's probably a good idea. I've got a few things left to pack up." He was taking his family to South America in a day. Everyone was leaving town: Nick and his family were heading out to California to see some distant relatives or something like that. Howie was taking his family to Spain. Kevin was headed up Kentucky way. And since none of them had any family in Orlando, Andy, Meghan, and Dennis were heading to various places in the U.S.

Nick and Howie also stood to leave. "Yeah, we should hit the road, too," Howie said. "But dinner was excellent, Alex. This was awesome. We really should do it again."

"Yeah," Nick agreed, with better cheer than we'd seen all evening. "The food rocked. You're almost as good as my mom."

Alex just smiled and nodded humbly. "I aim to please. When you get back, we could do it again."

Kevin's eyes had lost most of their worry and he smiled. "That sounds great. Looking forward to it." He paused in the act of getting his coat. "I feel better," he said. "I know Jeremiah isn't a bad guy. I just don't want Brian to get hurt."

"None of us do," Alex said. "Even me."

We were at the door. "Well," I said to the four of them, "take care and have safe trips. Let me know when you're going to be back." We exchanged hugs in turn, and then they departed.

Once they were gone, I sighed deeply and scrubbed my hands over my face and through my hair. I felt old. Worrying tended to do that to me. "I just hope Brian's going to be okay," I said, mostly to myself.

Alex turned away and walked into the kitchen. The fleeting glimpse I'd gotten of his face showed that he wasn't very happy about something. A pot slamming down on the counter affirmed that.

Walking into the kitchen, I asked, "Alex, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he snapped, setting another pan down with more force that strictly necessary.

"Alex, talk to me. What the hell did I do?"

He didn't answer, and kept his back turned to me. His hands gripped the edges of the sink so tightly his knuckles were white. After a minute, his shoulders started shaking a little, and his head sunk down toward his chest. "Josh," he whispered, "just...just tell me that you love me, okay? Tell me and mean it."

I blinked, confused and totally off-guard. "What? You know I love you. Nobody else. I mean that with all my heart."

He turned around. Tears streamed down his cheeks in rivers. "Tell me again."

"I love you, Alex. You, Alex, not Brian, not Howie, not AJ, not Kevin or Nick or anyone else. I don't know how else I can tell you that, but it's the truth."

That, apparently, was the right thing to say, because he broke into a smile and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Thank you," he whispered, holding his arms out.

I went to him and just stood there in his fervent, tight embrace. "Alex, what was that all about?"

He sighed. "I guess...I was just jealous. I'm sorry. You just seemed so worried about Brian-"

I put a finger over his lips to shut him up. "We've been over this already," I said quietly. "Look, I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you this, my love. You don't have to worry about competing with him or anyone because I'm not going anywhere. I want to stay with you, okay? You. As long as you want me, I'll be here." In the back of my mind as I said those words was not joy or happiness, but the troubling sense that I was lying.

Alex's eyes brightened, though. He tightened his hold on me. "Thank you, and I'm sorry. I should trust you more than that."

"It's okay," I said quietly. "Just...tell me something, okay?"

"What's that?"

"How can I prove myself to you? How can I give you forever?"

He smiled. "Just stay with me. That's all I can ask."

"I'll do that, Alex."

"Okay." He smiled and tossed a dishtowel at me. "Come on. If we can get this done fast, we can finish playing doctor tonight."

The next morning, I slept in, and Alex was gone before I was even up. After I got up and took a long shower, I went out back and spent some time with Max and Lady. I clipped on their leashes and took them for a long walk around the neighborhood. As we walked, I tried to think about something to get Alex for Christmas. Nothing sprang to mind, so I let it go for the time being.

When I got back, Alex was sitting on the front porch, face ashen, staring off into the distance. "Hey!" I called, walking quickly up to where he sat. "Alex, what's wrong?"

"I-I gotta get to Detroit, Josh," he mumbled. "My sister...she died. Her husband, too."

"Oh, God," I said. "Are you okay?" Dropping the dogs' leashes, I went to him and hugged him. He was shaking.

"I'm n-not okay, Josh," he whispered. Lady and Max both padded up to him together, as if they knew he was in pain, and simultaneously licked his face. He burst into tears then, letting go of me to hug both of the dogs.

After a few moments, I pushed both of them away and let Alex cry on my shoulder for a while. I felt so bad for him, knowing what loss felt like, even if I didn't know the circumstances. I cried with him, held him, and tried to support him as best I could. And, a little while later, his sobs tapered off to snuffles. We moved back into the house.

"God," he sighed. "My mom called me about an hour ago. Jennifer, my sister...she...she was with Michael, her husband at the office where they both worked. There was a fire...and they died of smoke inhalation."

"I'm so sorry, Alex. You...you should go up there, though." I rested my head on his shoulder.

He smiled sadly. "I want you there with me, Josh."

I frowned. His family, from what he'd told me, was not to keen on the idea that he was gay. They weren't exactly homophobic, but they weren't comfortably with it, either. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered. "They're probably going to be a little strange about it, but screw them, okay? I want you there with me."

"All right. I'll make the travel arrangements, okay? I've gotten awfully good at getting flights on short notice." I stood up and went to the phone and spent the next half hour getting the flight out. It was very difficult, and I struck out the first couple of times, but finally, the third time I was able to get the flight.

"When do we leave?" Alex asked, when I returned.

"First thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay," he said with an absent nod. "Uh, I, um, I guess I'll go pack, then."

"Go for it. I'm going to talk to Randy and see if I can get him to look after things for us here." Randy was the eldest son of the neighbor, who was a pretty dependable kid. He was at home and more than willing to take care of things for us. I gave him an advance and the key to the house so that he could water the tree and take in the mail, as well as looking after Max and Lady.

One of the stops on the tour had been, of course, Detroit. It was a nice place, but really cold. A young man, no more than sixteen, walked up to Alex and me while we gathered our baggage. "Alex?" he inquired softly.

Alex turned quickly and smiled. "Hello, Tom. How are you?"

Tom sighed. "Okay, I guess." His eyes were fixed on the floor.

"This is my youngest brother, Tom," Alex said to me. "Tom, this is my...um...friend Josh"

"You mean your...? Oh." Tom said quietly. His eyes, I saw when he looked up, were remarkable. They were blue, but they had flecks of green and gold in them, rather like a kaleidoscope. He was a very cute kid; shorter than his brother by a couple of inches, but with a similar facial structure. His hair was brown and short, and stuck up in a way that made me want to reach over and ruffle it up.

"Nice to meet you," I said, sticking out my hand. Tom ignored it. I raised my eyebrows, but kept my mouth shut.

"You haven't talked to the family in a while, Alex. We didn't even know you'd met anyone," Tom remarked. Once again, he looked away as he reached down to take Alex's bag. "Come on, then. They're waiting for us."

The ride through the streets of Detroit was mostly silent, save the quiet questions Alex asked his brother. Their voices were remarkably similar except that Tom kept his voice pitched low. He seemed embarrassed, in a way, to be picking up his brother. He wouldn't look Alex in the eyes at all.

Finally, we made it back to a fairly large brown house in one of the southern suburbs. It was a corner lot with a sprawling yard and a row of hedges surrounding it. Tom pulled us right into the garage. The black Buick Riviera fit just perfectly in the confined space.

As we were getting the stuff, Alex turned to me and put a hand on my arm. "Uh, listen, I didn't tell them you were coming," he said quickly. "I'm sorry, but I figured it'd be easier for all of us if they couldn't argue."

I sighed, but shrugged. "Yeah, well, whatever."

Tom glanced in our direction, but once again avoided our eyes. "You should have said something, Alex. They probably aren't going to be too happy about it." In all honesty, he sounded like the one who wasn't very happy about it.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Tommy, shut it, okay? There are far more important things going on here. Jennifer, remember?"

"Right," Tom muttered. "Well, I still think you should have said something." He turned and walked inside.

Alex glanced at me and then we headed into the house. There were seven people sitting in various places around what must have been the main living room. A few of them were crying, others were talking quietly, and some were gathered around the table, praying with a pastor. When we walked in, everyone looked at us.

"See something green?" Alex asked, tensing almost immediately.

"Oh, look," someone muttered, "it's the fairy."

"Knock it off, Darren," someone else snapped sharply. It was one of the women at the table with the pastor.

Alex walked past me and went to the woman. "Mom," he said, hugging her tightly. "Are you all right?"

His mom, dressed in a dark blue shirt and pants, was in her early fifties. Her hair was brown and gray, eyes a hard blue. She was where Alex and his brother got their looks. Her face had the same mix of strength and delicacy, although toned down slightly. "Alexander," she whispered, hugging him back fervently. "You have been gone too long, my boy. Thank God you've come back all right. We've been praying for your return, child."

"I made it," he said, a bit reserved. "I'm just sorry it had to happen under these circumstances."

"You never come home anymore, Alexander," a man, who I assumed was his father said from his mother's left. "You never call. Your mother gets worried about you, you know. We do like to know you're alive once in a while." He shot a glance in my direction. I kept my expression carefully neutral, although I could sense the hostility. His eyes were an arrogant blue under his thinning brown hair.

Alex turned to the man and regarded him coolly. "Well, Dad," he said stiffly, "that isn't my fault. You made it pretty clear that I'm not welcome around here anymore. Don't blame me for your prejudices."

There was a long, tense silence. Alex and his father stared at each other, almost as if they were battling wills. Finally, his father looked away. "You're just like your sister," he muttered. "Too damn stubborn for your own good."

"It's the only way to get through to you, Dad. You can't seem to fathom that you can't change my sexuality by throwing girls at me. Maybe if you wouldn't try to change me, and if you'd try to understand, we could get along better." He sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. "Look, I didn't come here to argue about this. I came here because my sister died and I wanted to be here for my family. I guess the best thing I can do is go stay at a hotel."

"Maybe you better," his father returned.

His mom laid a hand on Alex's shoulder. "Wait a minute, okay? Joe, just shut your mouth. In fact, why don't you take the kids and go get something to eat and maybe go to a movie." She glanced at the pastor, who was watching her carefully. "Peter, thank you for coming. I'll be in touch."

The pastor rose with his slender grace and nodded before walking out. Joe, Alex's dad, looked sincerely pissed off, but he got up and growled, "Kids, you heard your mother. Get ready and let's go. Dave, Charlie, you're welcome to go, if you want."

The two older men shook their heads and made quick retreats. Five minutes later, the rest of the crew left. In all, Joe left with four others, ranging in age from somewhere around twenty-two or three down to sixteen. None of them looked very happy. I tried to fade into the background.

Once they were gone, Alex's mom relaxed, but sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I've tried. I really have, but you know your father." She hugged her son again. "It's good to see you."

Alex hugged her back. "It's good to be home, Mom. I'm sorry for all the fuss I've caused. I guess that's why I never came back."

"It's okay." She looked over toward me and smiled a little uncertainly. "Are you Josh?"

I nodded and smiled back as I walked over to the two of them. "Yeah, I'm Josh Taylor."

"He's the one I've been telling you about," Alex said. "I asked him to come with me because I knew it was going to be difficult. I figured I'd end up staying in a hotel anyway, and I'd rather have company than be alone."

She looked at me again. "Well, if you're half of what Alex says you are, you and I are going to get along just fine. I'm Julia, by the way. None of that Mrs. Michaels stuff, okay?"

I smiled. "All right, Julia. Alex has told me quite a bit about you, and frankly, I wondered if I'd get a chance to meet you. I'm glad I did. I understand these must be very difficult times, and I'm sorry about your loss."

Julia's eyes became a little watery. "Thank you, Josh." She turned to Alex and tried to smile. "He doesn't look a day over sixteen, my boy."

"He's older than I am," Alex said. "He just turned twenty-six. How are you holding up, Mom?"

A few tears leaked out of her eyes. "Not so good, kiddo. You?"

"Me neither," Alex sighed, getting misty-eyed himself. "Jen, she was the only one I could ever talk to. The rest are so much like Dad that it hurts."

"I know," Julia sighed. "She was such a beautiful person. She loved all of her little brothers and sisters to death. You especially. She was just asking about you yesterday morning, you know."

"Really? Why?"

"She was thinking about calling you down in Orlando and coming to visit you and Josh in a couple weeks."

"Oh."

"She was really proud of you, you know, and happy, too. She wanted to meet you, Josh, and tell you something that I guess I'll pass along. She wanted me to tell you to hang on to Alex because his kind doesn't come around often, and they're worth hanging onto."

"Don't I know it," I murmured, dropping a couple of tears myself. "He really is one of a kind." I was thinking of a lot of things at that moment, and not really paying much attention to what I was saying. Alex was one of them, of course, but I was thinking in that moment of my own family, whom I'd lost, and strangely enough, Brian.

We sat around for the next couple of hours talking mostly about Jennifer and her husband Mike, who'd died with her. They'd gotten trapped in her upstairs office and died of smoke inhalation. They had a little baby boy, Christian, who was sleeping in the back room.

At one point, Julia got up and got the baby and brought out something else, as well. It was a sealed envelope addressed to Alex.

Alex opened it and read the letter aloud: "My Dearest Alexander: If you are reading this, then something has happened to Michael and me and we are no longer able to care for our son Christian. We have spoken at great length about his, Michael and I, and we have decided that we would like you to take custody of Christian.

"We know that this is a big responsibility. Alexander, you know that Dad and I don't see eye to eye. If I were to ask Mom, he'd protest. He loves Christian, but he's also very firm on not having any more children. Besides, you helped raise Karen, Darren, and Thomas, so you do know what you're doing. We both trust you, and we both wanted this.

"We've also specified this in the will, that we desire you to inherit legal guardianship of Christian. Mom already knows, and she thinks you're the best choice. Please take care of him, Alexander, take care of him and take care of yourself.

"All of our love, "Jennifer and Michael Fredericks"

Alex's hands were shaking badly. "Mom? You approved this?"

Julia nodded. "Yeah. She and I had a long talk about this a few months ago, and I urged her to think about it. There shouldn't be any trouble."

As for me, this barely registered. My mind was reeling. A baby? In the house? We'd never spoken about it, although I knew Alex wanted a child of his own to raise. He loved kids. I always thought he'd make a good father, and now it looked like I'd get to see firsthand. If, that was, Alex wanted to take on the responsibility.

The answer came quickly. "That's great, Mom. I'd be happy to take Christian."

Julia looked in my direction and cleared her throat. "Don't you think you ought to talk to Josh about that a little?"

Alex shrugged and glanced in my direction. He looked back at his mom. "He's okay with it."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Julia stopped him, watching the six-month- old boy in her lap gurgle and coo. "You didn't even ask him. How do you know? Have you talked to him about it before?"

"No, but-"

"Then how do you know that he's just going to accept this?"

Alex looked at me again. "You don't mind, do you?"

That didn't really leave me a lot of options, as I saw it. It was pretty clear he meant to keep the baby, with or without me. I got up from the table. "I need to take a walk, Alex."

"You want me to go with you?"

"No," I said, more sharply than intended. Alex eyes were dark and troubled as I stepped outside. It was cold. Very cold.

So what was I going to do? That was the question. It did seem awfully selfish of me to make a big fuss about this. But I wanted a chance to think before I got into something this serious. And it was a big deal. It wasn't something small like getting another dog. God. I think the question really wasn't whether I wanted a child or not. That was a moot question and the answer was yes. The problem I was having, I think, was more with the fact that once I got into this, there would be no way in hell I would get out. Was I ready for it? I didn't know. I didn't think so. But by the same token, I wasn't exactly ready to give up on Alex, either.

I walked for the better part of half an hour, thinking, analyzing, and just generally tying myself up in knots. I didn't know the first thing about raising a child. Alex did, though. I could always learn. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

I was still pretty indecisive, though, when I got back. The others were still gone when I walked in. Alex and Julia were at the table talking quietly. Both were in tears, and I suspected it was Jennifer again. They looked up when I walked back in. I didn't smile, didn't even open my mouth. I just stood where I was and looked back at them.

"Well?" Alex asked after a moment.

"Well what?"

"Well are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in here and tell me why you took off in such a hurry?"

I shrugged and walked over to the table. Nothing to say came to mind, so I just kind of sat staring at my hands. "What should I say, Alex?"

"Tell me what the hell just happened."

"I don't know, Alex."

"Well, are you going to be there for me and Christian or not? Because if you aren't, just say so now, and you can go back to Orlando. I'll stay here with the baby and be around my family."

"I'm not going anywhere," I sighed. "I just wanted a chance to think a little. I'm with you on this."

"Really?" Alex sounded cautiously optimistic.

"Yeah," I said with forced enthusiasm. "Yeah, I am." 'What other choice do I have?' I added silently.

"So you don't mind, then?"

Of course I did. "No, I guess not." I was more resigned than enthusiastic, but I tried not to show it. "How long are we staying up here?"

Alex sighed. "A week. I've got to get back because I have a major presentation for the boss and if I don't do it, I'll get fired. So, we're going to have to go."

Julia nodded. "I think we'll have everything ready for you by then. Like Jennifer said, Joe's not too keen on the idea of taking in another kid."

"Well, I want him," Alex said with a grin. "And we'll bring him back more often so that he can be spoiled by grandma."

"Or I can come down and visit you."

"That works."

The front door opened and Joe and the kids, all Alex's younger siblings, walked through. Roger, the oldest of the four, was twenty- two. The twins, Karen and Darren were nineteen, and Tom was the youngest at sixteen. Jennifer had been the oldest kid, and then Alex. I shook my head, trying to imagine how difficult it would have been raising six kids at once. Of course, I'd always wondered what it would have been like to have a big family, but looking at this family, I began to be thankful that I hadn't ever had one.

Alex stood up and looked at his father. "Well, I think Josh and I are going to stay at a hotel, Dad, since it seems we aren't really wanted around here."

Joe sighed. "You can stay, Alex. But just you."

"Not Josh?"

"He isn't family."

Julia, surprisingly, jumped up and said, "If Alex stays, so does Josh, Joe. Josh is more family to Alex than you are."

Alex laid a hand on my arm and smiled. "That's right, Dad. He accepts me for who I am and doesn't try to change me. So, I'm going to stay in a hotel for both my sake and Josh's."

We left after another fifteen or twenty minutes. I was glad to get out of there. We headed to a hotel, and on the way, neither of us said much. I was thinking mostly about Christian. He was a beautiful little boy, there was no denying that. His hair was dark and fuzzy, his face was pudgy and dimpled when he smiled. His eyes were a sparkling bright blue that, like Alex's eyes, lit up when he grinned. The more I thought about him, the more I fell for that kid.

After dropping our stuff off at the hotel, Alex and I went to get something to eat. He spent most of that time talking about his sister, her husband Mike, who was a nice guy, apparently, and he also talked about Christian at great length. I listened, mostly. That's what he needed. He loved his sister almost more than he loved his mom. This was hard for him.

He went back to his house that evening, but I stayed behind at the hotel, figuring that it would be best for his family that way. I was sound asleep when he got back, but he woke me up. He'd brought Christian with him.

"Isn't he sweet?" Alex asked softly. The little tyke slept peacefully in his carrier.

"Sure is," I replied.

"Say, you don't know much about kids, do you?"

"Not really," I answered. "I didn't grow up around them. I guess you're going to have to help me along."

Alex smiled. "Well, at least you're honest about it. To tell you the truth, it's not easy, but it's not incredibly difficult. It just takes time and effort. There's no halfway about it." His eyes became serious. "I mean that."

"Yeah," I sighed and rolled over. "That's pretty much what I figured." I fell right back asleep.

We spent almost the entire week with his family, which, as the days passed, got progressively better. They were still a long way from accepting me, but at least, by the time we went to the funeral, they all spoke to me.

They had the funerals for Michael and Jennifer together. It was really a beautiful service, inclining more toward a memorial than a funeral. People got up and spoke about the two of them and shared memories. There were tears, but not as many as at some of the other funerals I'd been to. It wasn't quite upbeat, but it sure wasn't depressing, and that made it so beautiful.

Even the reception afterward was nice. Julia made the formal announcement that Alex would be taking custody of Christian. The reactions were mixed, but nobody had any serious objections. I guess most of the people there knew Alex and knew he was a decent and responsible guy. They were even relatively accepting of me, which was quite nice.

It seemed like we'd just gotten to Detroit when we boarded the plane with the baby and his belongings. As predicted, Joe hadn't raised too much of a fuss about us taking Christian. He'd just mumbled something to Julia and to Alex about us needing to take care of him and for us to bring the little tyke back up every once in a while. Alex agreed pretty readily and exchanged uncomfortable hugs with his father.

I was, predictably, pretty nervous about taking the little guy into our home. Alex had spent a good deal of the week showing me what I needed to do with him. Christian was very well behaved on the plane. He slept, mostly, and raised almost no fuss whatsoever. The only time he was even awake was on landing, which wasn't particularly smooth.

Things were okay, though, once when we got to the house. We got Christian's stuff set up. "We'll put his crib in the basement," Alex said. "And he can have my game room when he gets old enough."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, it'd be no trouble for me to give up my study. To be honest, it'd be a lot easier than you giving up your game room."

Alex shrugged. "I don't use it that much anymore."

"So, am I going to be welcome in your room when the baby's in there?"

He grinned wickedly. "But of course, my dear boy. You don't honestly think I'd kick out my love toy, do you?"

"Oh, ho, so now the truth comes out," I crowed. "You just want me for my body."

"Yep. Your body, your mind, your heart...all of it."

Christian woke up just then and cried a little. Alex sighed good- naturedly. "Dinner time, I think." He got up and went to get the little guy ready for his food, but surprised me by telling me, "You get to do it."

"Okay," I said.

"Are you all right with this? I mean, you're going to have to spend most of the day with him tomorrow, and I know you haven't had that much experience with this yet."

"I'll be fine," I said. "If I get into any trouble, I can call you, you know. But I don't think I will. As I'm sure you've seen, I'm a pretty quick learner."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I know I am." To prove it, I nodded down at the little boy who smiled contentedly around the bottle. "You know, I'm surprised how easily they just let us walk out of there with him."

Alex nodded and raised his eyebrows. "Tell me about it. I thought there'd be some kind of fuss, but even Dad said he felt better about leaving Christian with me than putting that extra pressure on Mom. My aunt Katy even agreed with Jen's decision."

I inclined my head, feeling strangely introspective. "You know, maybe they think more of you than you know. I mean, your mom seems really proud of you. Hell, even after a couple of days, your dad was more relaxed around you. Tom and Roger are a couple of little pricks, but Darren and Karen were pretty nice to me after a while."

"Mind your language around the baby, Josh. And anyway, it's your charm, little buddy. You're just so cute that they can't hate you."

"That's what you like to think," I snorted.

"It's true."

"Whatever."

The next day was actually pretty nice. I hadn't finished my Christmas shopping, so Christian and I went together. I pretty much knew what I wanted to get for Alex: a few things, actually, so it wasn't much trouble to get them. But after a little thought, I decided to throw a few things in there for Christian. Not that he needed much. God, nearly half the boxes we'd brought with us were laden with toys of all colors, shapes, and sizes. This kid was growing up spoiled, but that's what grandparents and parents were for, I guess.

That took a little over an hour, so afterward, we went for a ride around the city and just kind of took it all in. Christian was absolutely no trouble all day. He seemed to latch onto me pretty well, and didn't make any fuss. I had never seen such a laid back little one before, and for that, I was grateful. A lot of the babies in the mall were squalling and carrying on, causing their parents no end of headaches.

When I stopped for lunch, a few women came up to me and made a big deal over how well behaved "little Chris" was. More than half of them asked me where my wife was. When I said I wasn't married, they commended me on being a single father raising a baby. Rather than try to explain, I just smiled. Maybe that's why I ended up going home with a handful of phone numbers.

Alex was home when I got there. He grinned when I came in carrying the little one. "So, how was your day?"

"I love this kid," I said, kissing Christian on the head. "He was so well behaved today. No trouble at all."

"You had a good day, then, huh?"

"Of course. You?"

Alex's grin split his face, and his eyes lit up like twin stars. "Oh, the presentation went so well, Josh. I can't tell you. I've been with the company for nearly four months now, and I've already gotten promoted to head of R&D. No more lowly computer tech. I get to help design the stuff."

"That's great!"

"Yeah. My salary is going to more than double."

"Jeez. With my salary and yours, we'll not be needing to worry about putting Christian through college."

"That's quite true. With what you make and what I make, we're going to be pretty damn comfortable." He picked up Christian and swung the giggling little boy around. "Oh, did my widdle man have a good day?"

"We got ogled by all kinds of woman today," I commented, smiling right along. "I actually came home with around a few phone numbers. Single parent, and all. It also helped that the little tyke was so well mannered."

Alex pretended to look jealous. "You gonna call any of them?"

I shrugged. "Thought about it. Some of them were really hot. But then I remembered the nag waiting for me at home."

"Oh, thanks."

"Can't help it. Like you say, I'm just so damned adorable."

Alex laughed. "I hate to burst your bubble, my boy, but I'd bet they were more attracted to Christian than you. You were just the helpless- looking daddy."

"Up yours, bucko."

"That's where I like it."

My eyes flew open. "Now who's got a dirty mouth? You'd better be careful or else I won't play tonight."

"Okay, okay. Say, Kevin called this afternoon. He wants you to call him this evening. He's still with his family, but it sounded pretty urgent."

"All right. I'll call him after dinner."

I did just that. After a quiet, relaxing dinner, I went up to my study and shut the door so that I could make a quiet call. As the phone rang, I imagined the journey the call was making: over hundreds of miles of wire, to eventually end up making someone's phone ring. What a marvelous invention.

Kevin picked up after a few rings. "Hello?"

"Kevin? It's Josh."

"Oh, hey. Glad you called. Listen, you haven't heard from Brian, have you?"

Boy, right to business. "Nope. Have you?"

"No, and Aunt Jackie says he only called her once, to tell her that he wouldn't make it up. He said he's sticking around Orlando with Jeremiah."

"I'm sure he's okay, Kevin," I said. "He's a strong person, and I think he can take care of himself."

"Yeah, but I just don't like this. He's usually such a family man. This is so unlike him."

"Well, when you get him away from Jeremiah in January, why don't you talk to him? Just the two of you, one-on-one and make him tell you what's been going on."

Kevin sighed. "Yeah, you're right, I guess. I'm just worried."

"And that's what makes you a good guy. I'm a little worried myself."

"Glad I'm not the only one. So, how have things been?"

"Now that you mention it, pretty interesting. When you get back here, I'll have to introduce you to my newest family member, Christian."

"Who's that?"

"That's kind of a long story..." It took about half an hour to tell from the beginning, but Kevin didn't seem to mind listening. He told me, when I finished, that he was looking forward to meeting our little bundle of joy.

Christmas came and went as fast as the blink of an eye. Both Alex and I had spoiled the hell out of Christian without telling each other, but we got a good laugh out of it. But what was really nothing compared to the surprise both of received when we gave each other one gift in particular: rings. I'd gotten him a ring and engraved my initials in it for him. He'd done the same, amazingly.

"Does this mean what I think it does?" he asked, staring at the small gold band in its white box.

"I think it does," I said, in all seriousness. "You know, I don't think we'll ever get married, but this is close enough for me. I do love you so much. I can't remember ever having been so happy."

"Me neither," Alex said, blinking tears out of his warm brown eyes. "I guess..." he slipped out the ring and put it on his left ring finger. "I guess this'll do. I love you, too."

I did the same with my ring.

The guys made a big fuss over Christian when they got back. As we had before they left, Alex and I had them over for a big meal. Kevin arrived alone and early to give us a hand. He all but melted when Christian grinned at him.

"He's so cute," Kevin said, grinning back. "His eyes light right up."

"That's how you know he's related to Alex," I said. There was a knock at the door, and I went to get it. Outside stood Brian and Jeremiah. Jeremiah seemed a little tired, but Brian was in great spirits.

"How was your holiday?" he asked brightly, smiling and reaching out to give me a quick hug.

"Great. Come on in. I want to introduce you to someone."

Blue eyes sparkling, Brian followed while Jeremiah took Brian's coat. "Who?"

Kevin had Christian on his lap. "This is Christian," I said. "He's our son."

"Your-? How?"

"Alex's sister died a couple weeks back and she passed legal guardianship to her brother, with whom I live. He's been with us for about two weeks."

Brian didn't really seem to hear that. He walked over and took Christian off his cousin's lap. "Oh, isn't he sweet? He looks just like Alex. Hey, Kev. How's it going?"

Kevin looked a little befuddled. "Good, Brian. How have you been? What were you up to over Christmas?"

Brian's bright blue eyes darkened only a little. "Oh, you know, I spent it with Jer's mom and dad. It was pretty pleasant, actually. They're very nice people. I'm really sorry I didn't call, but they surprised Jer and I with a trip skiing out in Utah. That was so great. Were my mom and dad upset?"

"Damn right they were. They were afraid something had happened to you."

"Well, nothing did," Jeremiah's deep voice said from the darkness of the hallway. "He was perfectly safe and we had a great time, didn't we?" He put a gentle arm around Brian's shoulder as Brian nodded. "And, the best part is that we're engaged."

For some reason, it felt like someone had punched me in the gut, but I managed a smile. "That's great," I said.

Brian nodded contentedly. "It sure is." He must have seen the light glint on my own ring and he looked at my left hand. "Where'd that come from?"

"Where else? Alex gave it to me for Christmas." I studied the elegant band on my finger. It fit just perfectly, as Alex's had.

Alex popped out of the kitchen just then. He must have overheard Jeremiah. "Did I hear you say you're engaged? Congratulations."

"Thanks," Jer said. He noticed that Alex was wearing a ring on his finger, too. "So, are you two engaged or already hitched?"

"Well, we're not actually going to get married," Alex said with a shrug, "but this is close enough for us."

There was a knock at the door just then and I went to answer it. Nick, AJ, and Howie were all together. "What's up?" Nick asked with a big happy smile.

"Not much," I said. "Come on in, guys."

AJ gave me a quick hug. "So, I hear you got a little rugrat now."

"Uh-huh."

"Where is the little guy?" Howie asked.

"Either with Brian or with Kevin."

"Brian's here already?" Nick asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, and he looks like he's doing a lot better than when we saw him before Christmas." I shrugged. "Come on. Let's go see Christian."

Christian, was, of course, the center of attention that evening. He got a bit fussy as the evening wore on, but he'd been up early that morning. So, we put him to bed with a bottle shortly after we finished eating, and he nodded off almost right away.

We all got caught up on what we'd done over the vacation. It had been a surprisingly relaxing vacation for all of them. Of course, long vacations tended to be. Everyone seemed particularly interested in what Brian and Jeremiah had been doing. They had had, apparently, a great ten-day ski trip. Both were a lot more relaxed than they had been before, and it put all of us at ease.

Talk turned to business and Kevin said, "I hate to tell you this, Josh, but I talked to Jeff this afternoon, and he told me that he needs to see you first thing Monday morning."

I sighed. "Any idea why?"

"Something about the music, I'm sure."

"Figures. It always comes down to that, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

I turned to Alex. "I guess I'll have to take Christian with me."

He nodded. "Yeah. I'll, uh, I'll start looking for a sitter. When you're out on the road, he can't go with you. But while you're in town, I don't see any big deal."

"Sure." I looked to the others. "So, what's first on your agenda tomorrow?"

Kevin shrugged. "An interview and photo shoot with one of the teen magazines, I think. I'm not too sure which." He looked at Jeremiah. "I'm afraid you're going to have to let go of Brian for a few hours, big guy."

Jeremiah shrugged. "That's okay. It's not like we're attached at the hip or anything."

"You wouldn't think that," AJ muttered. His hair was, for once, not styled oddly. It was relatively short and neatly cut. He seemed relatively subdued, didn't joke or laugh that much. I wondered what was bugging him, but never got around to asking.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jeremiah asked tensely.

Eyebrows raised, AJ smiled disarmingly. "Nothing, Jeremiah. Nothing at all."

By that time, it was pretty late. Howie stood up and stretched his back. "Well, once again, Alex, you're a great cook. This was fun, but we've got to get an early start tomorrow. So, I think it's time for us to go."

"Yeah," Nick sighed. He glanced at Brian and smiled. "So, you want to meet at my place tomorrow morning?"

"Works for me," Brian said. "I'm staying at my place tonight."

With that, they all stood and we exchanged farewells. It was a while before I saw them again.

"Josh, we've gotten a chance to go over those new songs," Michael said quietly, a day after the guys had come over for dinner. "And...I don't know how to say this without offending you, but they're just not right."

"What's wrong with them?" I asked quietly. Christian sat quietly on my lap and stared over at Jeff.

"They're just not...novel enough. I mean, I guess there are maybe two that are salvageable. But the rest...well, we need something more fresh, edgy. Do you understand?"

"No," I said bluntly.

Jeff and Michael exchanged glances and Jeff shrugged. It seemed like every time I saw him, he had lost a little weight. His eyes, when they turned to me, were a flat, bored blue. "Well, let me put it to you this way: these songs are unacceptable as they are. You have two options as I see it. You can either rewrite these songs or come up with a batch of new ones."

I frowned deeply. "How, pray tell, do you expect me to go about that? It's not as easy as you seem to think to sit down and write a good song. Fresher? Edgier? Novel? How do you translate that into music?"

"That's what we hired you for, Mr. Taylor," Michael said coolly. "We'll leave that up to you. We need this music, though, as soon as possible. Three weeks is all we can give you."

"Guys, be serious," I protested hotly. I set Christian down in his carrier and stood up. "Look, it's all well and good for you to sit there and tell me I have to do it, but you have no idea what actually goes into something like this. And it's especially difficult when you're doing it on your own." I shook my head. "I don't think I can do it."

"If that's the case, then we're going to have to get someone else," Jeff murmured meditatively. "And if we do that, well, you might just find yourself out of a job. I mean...what good would you be to us?"

"You'd fire me?" I asked incredulously. But after a moment of silence, I sighed and gave in. "All right, fine. Do you want me to retool the songs I gave you or do you want different ones?"

"Just redo these, and we'll talk. Three weeks, Mr. Taylor."

Why in the world were they putting so much emphasis on this? I didn't know, but it bothered me. I reached down and grabbed Christian's carrier, all twenty-four pieces of music and then left without saying goodbye. I was pissed. This was beyond ridiculous. I didn't know how things were usually done, but it struck me as so odd that they were happening like this.

I got back to the house and tried to go right to work. And after twenty minutes, I quit. My mind wasn't into it. I decided to play with Christian instead and had a good time. In the back of my mind, though, I tried to work out why there was such an emphasis on getting this music ready so quickly. And I also found myself wondering whether I could.

I couldn't. Of all the times to run into a creative block, this was the absolute worst. The following day, I sat and stared at a piece of sheet music for more than an hour and made not one change. I hadn't the slightest idea how to start. Finally, frustrated, I took the damn thing down to the piano. I must have played the piece six times and couldn't figure out what to do with it.

It was the same with the next three I tried. I played them rather than stare futilely at the sheet music. But after a while, I was making a lot of mistakes. That was unusual, but not unheard of. I mean, sometimes my fingers slipped and hit a wrong note. It happens to every musician the world over. No matter how good or skilled, sometimes you just hit a sour note.

That afternoon, I hit a lot of them. The next afternoon I did, too. So, after two days of making an inordinate amount of mistakes, I scrapped the whole revision idea. I was getting absolutely nowhere. Besides which, I liked to tinker with music, but I hated gutting it. There was a big difference. When you tinkered, you just tweaked a few notes, but it was still the same piece. When you gutted a piece, it became something else entirely. Better just to start over.

So, that's what I did. Realistically, I knew there was no way in hell I'd be able to come up with two-dozen brand new songs in just under three weeks. What I was hoping would happen was that I could write one or two new songs and jump-start the old brain again. It had worked in the past.

But it sure as hell didn't work for me during the next few days. I couldn't manage a simple melody in three days. The end of the third day was actually my fifth day of work. I worked like a madman, down in my studio for nearly fifteen hours a day. The only breaks I took were to grab an occasional snack and to feed Christian, but I did that sitting at my piano bench.

At the end of that fifth day, sometime around midnight, Alex came down to the studio. "Are you coming to bed?" he asked quietly.

I stared at my hands. They rested idly on the keyboard, not moving. They hadn't moved in nearly an hour. "I can't," I said.

Alex moved to my side and knelt down. "What's going on with you, Josh? I've hardly seen you in the last few days. You haven't slept at all, you're working yourself to death, and you look like hell."

"I have to do this," I told him. "These pieces aren't good enough. I told you already that Michael and Jeff need them in a couple weeks. And...I've tried. I have. But...I can't do it."

"Josh," Alex murmured, reaching out and clasping my shoulders, "you're trying too hard. You need a break. You've been immersed in this for five days."

"And I haven't got a damn thing done," I snapped.

Alex's eyes opened wide. "Oh, surely you've gotten a couple-"

"No," I interrupted. "Nothing. Not a damn thing in five days. I haven't changed a single note on a single piece. I can't even get through one of them without screwing it up somehow. And I can't put together a melody to save my life."

"So take a break."

"I can't! Don't you get it? I have to have these fucking things finished in a little over two weeks. There's no way in hell I'll be able to do it. Twenty-four songs; good songs, no less."

Alex's hands kept massaging my shoulders. It was really annoying, to be perfectly frank. "You're way too tense, Josh. I mean it. Come to bed, get some sleep, and call Andy and Meghan tomorrow. Or Dennis. Get one of them to come help you."

That had been something I'd thought about before. "Only one problem with that: none of them are in town. All of the band, Jeremiah included, are still enjoying their vacations."

"Oh." Alex sighed and dropped his hands. "Well, at least come to bed, okay? Maybe you'll get some divine inspiration overnight. And if that doesn't happen, you can just call your managers and explain it to them."

Rather than argue, I just nodded. "All right." I yawned and tossed my glasses onto the piano. I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

The next morning, I woke up grouchy and I knew that nothing would change. But I gave it a good fight. I pulled out my violin and sat attempting to play something, anything. The normally delicate, soft and sweet notes came out jarringly discordant. It was like over the course of the last week, I'd lost my musical ability. The music I constantly heard in my head was the same: harsh, ugly-sounding, and not at all like the quiet, warm sounds normally there.

I played some of my old songs and they came out sounding amateurish, at best. 'Jesus,' I thought 'I'm losing it. I really am.' I tried to play the song I'd written with the guys. My fingers refused to obey. The notes scraped off instead of ringing out, and they scraped off wrongly, too, I might add.

That day was Saturday, so Alex was home, and he was upstairs taking care of Christian. He poked his head downstairs at one point and I could see the worry creasing his forehead. "What are you killing down here?"

"Myself," I growled angrily. "Do you mind?" Alex retreated immediately, and I was alone. I carefully put away my Strad and took out one of my acoustic guitars. But instead of playing anything specific, I just sat back as I had so many times and let my fingers do the walking. I tried not to force anything and tried to relax.

I felt better after an hour. The background music constantly in my mind had lost a little of that discordant edge and became warmer. When I reached that point, I stopped playing altogether and went upstairs. Alex accepted my apology readily and we took Christian, Max, and Lady for a long, long walk.

Max and Lady were special dogs. There was no doubt about that. I trusted them both completely around Christian. Both seemed to know that he was young and very weak. They were protective of him, and playful, too. They put up with him grabbing handfuls of fur. And they were both surprisingly mellow. Even though Max was only a couple of years old, he was mature. And goofy, sometimes. He'd never quite grown into his ears, so they stuck up comically, and he tended to be clumsy. Alex and I laughed about that so often. His nickname around the house was batdog.

Lady, on the other hand, although she had similar deportment, was different. She carried herself with the elegance and grace of a show dog. She had the typical white and light brown coloring and walked with her head proudly arched. She was as elegant as Max was clumsy. She never stepped on my feet, but Max sure did. He was the bigger of the two, a little taller and bulkier. But they got along well. Lady replaced the hole left in both Max's life and mine left by Whiskey. Funny thing was that I never considered getting another cat.

Anyway, I felt steadier when we got back to the house. It was near dark. We ate well that night and after Christian went to bed with his bottle, I persuaded Alex to give me the massage he'd started the night before. He was wonderfully attentive. The tension slipped away and I started feeling frisky. One thing led to another and...well, you get the point.

The next morning, I felt wonderful. After a leisurely breakfast, I decided to give the music a go again. There was no sense of urgency or even worry in it that morning. As I sat down at the keys, it felt like everything was going to fall into place.

It didn't. I started rewrites again, and failed worse than before. By the end of that day, I was ready to throw things. I didn't go to bed that night. Or the next night. I don't remember if I ate, either. I was down in my studio day and night slaving to make one damn song work.

I was frustrated and angry. Over the course of the next eight days, I bit Alex's head off more than a dozen times. He tried to persuade me to stop, but I couldn't. It was like the music had shackled me to the piano. What I heard in my head wasn't soothing or warm. It was harsh and cold and I wanted it to stop. I figured if I could just make a few songs work, it'd get better.

I don't really know what happened. Like I said, it was like an obsession. I absolutely could not stop trying. I managed to force about ten, but I knew that those wouldn't even be near good enough. And as I worked, I wondered if I'd ever be able to write something good enough.

Finally, I had enough. I exploded. There were five days left before I had to take twenty-four fresh, novel pieces to management. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't play anymore. I'd sit down at the keyboard only to start shaking. My fingers wouldn't work. I knew I'd lost weight and I felt absolutely like hell.

"Shit!" I yelled when I reached the breaking point. I got up quickly, shoving back and knocking over the piano bench, and drove my fist into the nearest wall. The sheetrock gave and my hand broke through. It hurt like a bastard and I yelled again. When I pulled my hand out, my knuckles were covered with dust and blood where I'd split my skin open. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," I hissed.

Alex, who'd stayed home for some reason or another, came racing down the stairs. "What in God's name just happened down here?" His voice was tentative and a more than a little worried.

"I quit," I said, throwing my hands up. "This is the end. It's the fucking end. I can't play my instruments anymore and I sure as hell can't write music anymore." Another urge to plunge my fist into the wall overcame me, and I couldn't resist it. I whirled around and did it again.

Suddenly, everything seemed...too loud, too bright, and not real. I turned slowly and looked at the piano, only to start shaking again. I looked at Alex, who was looking back with fear and worry. His face seemed odd, pale, almost surreal. The fight drained out of me. "Help me, Alex. Please?"

He approached carefully. "You need a break, Josh. This is my fault for not stopping you sooner." His hands sought my injured one. "Is it broken?"

"I think so," I said, pulling away, drawing into myself.

He sighed and very gently led me out of the room. On the way out, he shut the door. And locked it with the key that he'd fished out of my pocket. "You listen to me, okay? I'm going to keep this key. You are not to get near those instruments."

I broke down sobbing, just like that. Just like a little kid. I didn't understand why. I was tired, angry, frustrated, and worst of all, humiliated. What in the hell was I supposed to do? I made it to my room and just curled into a ball on the bed. What in God's name was going on? I didn't know. Nothing made sense. Sounds were too loud. The light was too bright. I was too hot, then too cold.

I heard Alex say quietly, "Jesus," behind me, but the sound seemed to thunder through the room. I couldn't stop crying or shaking. There was nothing in my head. No music. No warmth. No light. No feeling. It was hard to breathe and my head began to pound. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, but I didn't move.

Alex sat down on the bed and tried to sit me up, but I pulled away. His hands felt too hot. He talked, but I didn't really hear him. My mind was racing too, and I still couldn't stop crying. Nothing seemed right. My hand ached. My head ached. Alex wouldn't leave me alone.

Finally, he got Christian into the car and took me to the hospital. After that, things became kind of dim. I was admitted for some reason and taken to my own room. I remember vaguely the mention of surgery, but it didn't register much. I gather from what little everyone had told me that I was under sedation.

When I was able to sit up and talk normally without drugs, I couldn't really say much. I felt like a miserable failure, despite what Alex told me. He sat with me and talked to me about things that had no relation whatsoever to music. I wasn't that interested, but I tried. I was tired, mostly, and when I finally realized that they'd operated on my hand, I was worried that I'd screwed up my chances of playing again.

After a week, I started feeling a little better, but not much. Alex called up Michael and Jeff to explain what had happened. Neither was happy to hear what had happened, so they told Alex that they'd bring the Boys by in a couple of days to talk to me. In the meantime, a string of different people came in and made me talk to them about a lot of things...mostly what had happened. I didn't know why, but it bothered the hell out of me, and I was happy when they went away.

"Hey," Alex said, smiling gently as he walked into my room, "you up for visitors today?"

I was sitting in a chair, and my mind was a thousand miles away. Mostly, I was thinking about how much of a mess I'd made of things. And how much I hated hospitals. It took me a while to realize that Alex was speaking to me. When I did, I turned to him and said, "Hmm? Oh, sure. Who?"

"Michael, Jeff, and your friends."

I frowned and glanced at the calendar on the wall. "Aren't they supposed to be in New York?"

Alex shrugged. "They decided to put that on hold until they could find out how you were doing."

"Probably came here to watch me get fired," I sighed. My left hand, the smart hand, was wrapped in a white cast. I looked at it and grimaced. "Why am I so stupid?"

"You're not."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because you pushed yourself too hard, had a small breakdown, and you needed someone with medical training to watch over you."

That wasn't anything I hadn't heard before, so I turned to stare out the window again. Same old landscape. "When am I getting out of here?"

"Well, you're making progress," Alex said cautiously. "They're saying you can probably leave later this week."

I looked over at him, really looked. He looked drawn and haggard. His eyes were tired, and as he sat on the bed, he looked as if he were about to fall asleep. Christian was asleep right next to him. But he managed a smile. I didn't smile back. "I don't remember much about this last week."

"You were doped up. They had to because you freaked out on them once. Don't you remember?"

"Not really," I admitted. "Just loud noises and feeling panicked for some reason. What happened?" Now, I felt a little hollow, but otherwise, a lot more stable. Things didn't seem so distorted as they had in the days before. Then it had seemed like I wasn't really even part of the world. I'd felt like an observer from another planet.

"They sedated you. They were trying to set your hand and for some reason, you got scared and tried to break out. I explained to them what had just happened and they said you'd probably had a breakdown. Too much stress, not enough sleep or food, and your system couldn't handle it. You slept a lot during the first part of last week, and you were sedated."

I didn't even remember. "You know, most of last few weeks...I don't remember much. Except talking to that doctor, and my failure."

Alex moved to stand beside me. "Listen to me. It's not your fault that they asked the impossible of you. You tried your best and it doesn't matter if you didn't get them all done."

"Yeah, but they asked me to do it, and I said I would."

"Didn't you tell them you didn't think you could?"

I wasn't too sure about that. "I don't know. I think I remember doing it, but I just can't say." I sighed in frustration.

He laid a calming hand on my shoulder. "Take it easy. You're doing a lot better and there's no sense blowing that now."

I nodded. "I want to get out of here."

"I know. You're doing so much better than you were even a few days ago. And you're supposed to regain full use of your hand again."

"When are the Boys coming?"

"They'll be here in a few minutes."

They arrived together about fifteen minutes later. I'd gotten up and changed into something a little more presentable and was sitting by the window when they showed up. I was wishing I could just disappear for a little while into the trees I saw in the far-off distance. Alas, no such luck. I was still sitting in a room in the middle of a hospital.

Kevin, Howie, and AJ came right up, while the others hung back to talk to Alex. I smiled a little for them and tried not to look as tired as I suddenly felt.

"How's it going?" AJ asked quietly, unsmiling, as he sat down on the bed.

"Fine," I answered. "I'm doing a lot better."

"So we hear," Kevin said. "Alex called us about a week ago to tell us how you were doing. We told him that we could be down then to come see you, but he wanted us to wait."

I shrugged. "I think he just wanted to be sure I was able to talk back before you were around. From what I hear, I was kind of a vegetable, though I don't remember much after I punched the wall."

That drew their attention to my hand. "How's it doing?" Howie asked. "Are you going to be able to play again?"

"I'm supposed to have full use of it," I answered softly. "It'll take another four or five weeks, but after that, it'll be okay."

"That's good to hear," Nick said, coming to join the rest. His expressive blue eyes were troubled. "What happened to you?" he asked softly. "You're so thin and pale. You look like a ghost's shadow."

My smile was half weary irony and half self-deprecation. "Well, what can I say?" Ghost's shadow. Shadow to a ghost. That was a very unique choice of words. One I filed away in the part of my mind that liked that sort of thing.

Michael and Jeff both stepped forward. Neither looked overly contrite or even concerned. "We understand that you've had a rough time," Michael said softly. "And we're sorry that we piled so much on you at once. We should've tried to divide up the work and not put so much stress on you to get it done. Josh, you're a very valuable member of this team, and we feel that this is pretty much our fault."

Jeff stepped up, and nodded. "Yeah, and we'd like to formally apologize and let you know that you've still got a job. Some people just aren't cut out to work under pressure."

The condescension in his voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "And just what the hell does that mean? Pressure had nothing to do with it." But did I really want to admit that I'd lost my touch? I didn't say anything else, but I my eyes started to water and a couple of damn tears leaked out of the corners.

Alex's eyes were hard. "Are you people blind? He worked himself stupid trying to meet an impossible deadline. How much do you know about writing music? Huh? You gave him twenty-one days to write twenty-four songs. I'd like to see you do it. Hell, I'd like to see anyone do it."

The duo looked at each other rather uncomfortably and then back at me. Michael dropped his eyes. "I feel bad," he said. "I didn't mean for this to happen. We shouldn't have dumped this on you, Josh. It was wrong, and I'm sorry. You stuck with it when most people would have quit. That took a lot of guts."

Jeff nodded and sighed. "Yeah, he's right. Under the circumstances, you did a good job, kid. I know you don't have many of those pieces done, but it doesn't matter. I put way too much emphasis on this. We're not even slated to record for another four months." He looked at the group and me tentatively. "Do...would that be enough time for all of you?"

The guys looked at me, but I was staring out the window again. The damned tears wouldn't stop again. I couldn't answer the question and I didn't want to. I couldn't think about music and I couldn't look at a piano without bursting into tears. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to do it again.

"Josh?" It was Brian. He'd taken a seat next to AJ on the bed. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "I...guys, I don't know if...if I'll even be able to come back. I can't...can't even...I just...I'm afraid."

"Take all the time you need," Michael said firmly. "If you decide that you don't want to come back, that's fine, too. Josh, we are very sorry, and we don't want to lose you, but if you don't want to play ball anymore, that's okay. We understand."

Something loosened in my chest just then. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of me, and I was calm again. I stared at the landscape and then turned slowly back to the others. Each wore an expression of concern and apprehension, but they were trying not to show it.

Their faces...Kevin's dark hair and worried eyes with his fair complexion, Brian's engaging blue eyes and short reddish hair, Nick's expressive face, AJ's dark eyes and gentle smile, Howie's perpetual grin and liquid dark eyes, Alex's hopeful and earnest face...they all seemed so lovely. I loved them all. We were tight and I didn't want to lose that to something so stupid.

I felt kind of dumb. I'd broken my hand for no good reason, had worked myself stupid for no good reason, and had ended up here because of it. I loved music, and in that moment, I realized again just how important it was to me; just how much that little background sound meant. Maybe I'd never get over my block. Maybe I would. But whether I did or not, music was still music and I'd always be able to read it and play it. And that was a lot more than a lot of people had.

I looked out the window again and wiped my eyes. "I guess...I can try," I said. "But there are no promises or guarantees. I don't know if I can anymore."

"Just take it a day at a time," Brian said. He smiled warmly and for a moment, I was taken back to the days before I knew Alex. I remembered fondly the first time we'd met and I remembered how much I'd liked him then. I smiled back, completely missing Alex's eyes darkening.

"I think I can do that," I said.

I left the hospital a couple of days later. I spent two weeks at home doing absolutely nothing but walking around and talking to Alex. He was completely supportive and was more than willing to help me talk through anything. One thing he wouldn't let me do was go down into my studio. He knew just as I did that I wasn't quite ready for that yet.

Meantime, the guys got ready to head out onto the road. They pushed the tour back two weeks, to give me extra time to heal up, but I was going to miss at least the first three weeks anyway. Maybe more, depending on how things went. I had to work on getting my hand strength back after I got the cast off and the stitches out. That would take time. Plus, I wasn't too sure how I would do once I got back on the instruments again.

After the first two weeks, Alex took Christian to daycare for the first time and left me home alone as he went to work. He was a little wary about leaving me alone with Christian because I was a bit temperamental yet. But it bothered me that he didn't trust me.

Of course, I didn't say much about it. I guess it was nice to have a little peace and quiet around the house. I persuaded Alex to leave me the key to my studio and on the very first day, I went down. I just went in and looked. I leaned against the doorframe and looked at my big black grand. It gleamed softly under the sunlight. No dust had accumulated on it, though almost a month had passed since I'd been in there.

The dent in the wall was gone. That accounted for the faint smell of paint that lingered like a light fog in the room. Alex had probably fixed it himself. He was good at things like that. I smiled fondly and then remembered where I was.

Tentatively, I walked into the room and sat down at the bench. I was scared. To tell the truth, I'd never been more afraid in my life. I couldn't explain why, but I was afraid I'd never be able to play again. In retrospect, that belief bordered on absurd. I could make music, and that was something I'd gained from years and years of practice. It wasn't some magical gift I'd gotten overnight or could lose overnight.

Still, I couldn't help wondering as I lifted my trembling right hand up to the keys and just let them walk. What emerged was soft and delicate, warm and comforting. I smiled and relaxed a little. The shaking stopped and I played with a little more confidence. Oh, I had a ways to go yet, but I'd get there eventually. And the ride was going to be fun. I loved music and as I sat there in my studio with the warm sounds ringing out of the grand, I remembered just how much.

I was still there when Alex came home, but I wasn't playing anything. He walked downstairs with Christian in one arm. His eyes betrayed his apprehension, but when he saw how relaxed I was, he relaxed.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Better," I told him with a smile. "I think I'll be just fine."

"Did you play today?"

I nodded. "Nothing in particular. It was kind of hard at first, but I just stayed with it."

He smiled warmly. "That's great. And you only have another week before you get your hand out of that cast."

I grinned and both Alex and Christian smiled back. "That's so cool," I said. "I can't wait."

"Me neither. You're looking a lot better."

"Well, I have you to thank for that," I said. I got up and hugged him and Christian. "I love you both so much," I told them. "I don't know what I would have done without you." Of course, the real test was yet to come, but I felt better than I had in so long.

The next few days were peaceful. I got up late, walked with the dogs and generally took it easy in the mornings. In the afternoons, I went down into my studio and started going over some of my old stuff, but carefully. I knew how close I'd been to really losing it, so I didn't push anything. I didn't try to write anything and I didn't try to rewrite anything. Truth to tell, I was scared about even trying.

The cast came off on Monday afternoon. I went by myself and had it taken off. It felt so good to be able to stretch it out and scratch it. The damn thing itched to beat all hell and that about drove me nuts, but once the cast was off, it was better. It looked okay, except for a scar running across the knuckles, and another across the middle of the back. More scars.

My hand was very weak, I noticed, but my doctor told me to just work with it, stretch it out and try to build it up. He said lay off the piano for a couple of days, but other than that, it'd be okay. He sent me home with a rubber ball and told me to squeeze that with my hand as long as I could. A few rather gutterish thoughts popped into mind when he said that, but I thought it best to keep those to myself.

On my way to the house, I picked up Christian from daycare. He seemed to be having a good time there, but seemed equally happy to see me. He was almost eight months old, getting big and healthy. And he was already becoming a favorite of the women who ran the center. Even though he was starting to get his first tooth already, he wasn't that fussy.

He settled companionably in my arms and slung an arm around my shoulder and babbled out a string of nonsense syllables that I knew would soon be words. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were brighter than usual. He was as happy as I was, and I laughed when I saw what he was so happy about. A couple of two-year-olds were going after each other with big foam bats (with no plastic in sight, mercifully). They weren't hitting hard, but they knocked down a stack of blocks and Christian howled with laughter.

"Boy, what a kid," I muttered as I made my way out. It was still relatively early, so we headed over to Alex's office and spent some time with him before we all went out for dinner and a movie. Later, I told Alex about what the doctor had told me about squeezing a rubber ball.

The next day, I kept Christian with me at home as I puttered around the house. There wasn't much to do, but we managed. My spirits were a lot higher. Since I'd gotten out of the hospital, I'd been much more cheerful. I felt good and it looked like the worst of it was behind me.

I waited nearly a week before returning to the piano. But when I did, it was like I'd never left. It felt so natural and so right to play it again. Almost like a rebirth. The warm, cheerful music drifted up as it always had, although I was pretty rusty. Plus, I lost a lot of the flexibility in my fingers.

Alex was there and he listened with a big smile. In a way, it was almost anticlimactic. I mean, how else could it have turned out? I'd blown a circuit when I overworked myself, but with over a month between then and now, and a lot of rest, it was totally normal.

After that, I pushed myself to get my hands back into shape. I was eager to meet the guys out on the road, and Alex was happy to get me going. I worked three times a day for about two hours per session, just going over everything I knew how to play and trying to make sure my hands could function. And on the different instruments. Each one required a different set of motions, but I played a different instrument each time.

It went very smoothly, and a little more than three weeks after I got out of my cast, I was ready to hit the road. Alex and I talked for a long while before I left because I felt bad about leaving him and Christian alone, but Alex assured me that he'd be okay. I loved him so much then, and always. And before I left, I made absolutely sure to tell him that several times.

I met the guys in for the first time in Arizona over two years ago. And that was where I met them all again. I flew down to Phoenix by myself, promising myself to fly Alex and Christian out in a few weeks. It didn't feel right for me to just abandon them for two months.

The guys and the band were plenty happy to see me when I met them at their hotel. I arrived relatively early, and they had the day off so we all took a quick trip down to Blackstone just for the hell of it. That's where it had all started. Boy, two years. In that time, I'd almost gotten together with Brian, graduated, taught school, found Alex, gotten Christian, wrote songs and became a part of the Backstreet camp. God, the ironies never cease to amaze me.

I looked up my old friend David and discovered he was still in town. The six of us arranged to meet him, and he was as charmingly annoying as ever, but he'd been following the group closely. I told him just a little about what had been going on since I'd last seen him, and all he could do was laugh and tell me that he figured that somehow I'd end up where I did. He was teaching Psychology at one of the local high schools.

The next day was my first show, and I was a nervous wreck. I paced and paced, and annoyed the hell out of everyone until Kevin yelled at me to stop before I wore a hole in the carpet. At my current pace, I probably would have.

But I was fine. The show was absolutely normal, and not a thing went wrong. My hands didn't betray me and it sounded great. It also felt wonderful to be back up there. I'd almost forgotten how much of a thrill it was to be up there on the stage performing. I was glad I hadn't quit. This was where I was supposed to be.

They broached the subject I'd been dreading about a week later.

It was Kevin, really. Mr. Responsibility struck again. "Josh, we should probably sit down and get to work on those songs today or tomorrow, since we're off."

The five Boys, Jer, and I were in Kevin's rather luxurious hotel room. Andy and Meghan were out on the town already, and Dennis hadn't bothered to come home. We figured he'd found a girl and had spent the night...er, wooing her.

The room became quiet in a hurry after Kevin's nonchalant declaration. Nobody looked at me, but I knew as surely as I knew my own name what they were thinking. I was still afraid of it, but I also realized that this had had to happen sooner or later.

So, I sighed and nodded. "All right."

"You up for this?" AJ asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt a little dizzy. Oh, wonderful. "Uh, I guess...there's no time like the present, is there?"

"Are you sure?" Nick asked from his seat behind AJ. His eyes, as usual, showed his concern. It was actually very touching and steadying. "Josh, you don't look so good."

"I don't feel that good all of a sudden," I answered quietly. "But there's nothing to be done. I knew that this was bound to happen, and I've been dreading it, but I can't really put it off much longer."

"Right," Brian murmured, "but we don't want to push you into something like what had happened before."

I smiled at him-all of them-and realized just how worried they'd been. "Thank you. All of you. But I think...I feel different now. I feel a lot better about it than I have in a long time. I mean that."

There was a long pause as all of that was digested. Come hell or high water, we were going to do this. I knew then that I'd be okay. As long as I didn't push it or push myself too hard, I'd be okay.

"All right," Kevin said, as he stood in one fluid motion that we all watched with varying degrees of envy. Brian had commented to me time and again how much he wished he was as graceful as his cousin, not realizing that, in his own way, he was. Perhaps even more so.

Getting back into songwriting was like rediscovering an old love. I found myself again in the next couple of hours, and although the session wasn't entirely productive, I felt better for it. We didn't really try to do too much, as everyone sort of understood that I wanted to just ease back into it.

After that day, though, as it had been when I'd rejoined the band, I made the recovery in quick leaps and bounds. The confidence I'd lost in myself returned relatively quickly as the music began to pour from my mind once again. The frustration, the anger, and everything that I'd felt before unraveled and dissolved as we worked over the course of the next few weeks.

It took about a month to get all of the songs reworked, but it didn't matter. We had two dozen wonderful songs, and we all felt great about them. Everyone, the band included, had a hand in the process. My role was pretty much to lay down melodies and to figure out harmonies. But I had all the help I needed if I got stuck, which did happen a few times, but it didn't produce nearly as much distress as it had in the past.

We got the songs to Jeff and Michael before the deadline and they made a special trip out to Minnesota just to tell us how much they loved them all. But they also dropped a sort of bombshell on the guys, too.

They'd gone out to lunch together, while Dennis, Meghan, Andy, Jer, and I all got set up for the show that night. Things weren't at all quiet between us. As before, we'd settled into a comfortable working relationship and the jokes flew back and forth. Except with Jer. He'd gotten very quiet lately.

When the Boys got back from their lunch, they were all very quiet and a bit tense. "What's wrong with you guys?" Meghan asked, once we were all together. "You look like you lost your contract or something."

Howie looked at her with his quiet eyes and smiled a soft, tired smile. "No, it's nothing like that. We just...well, they kind of hit us with something pretty big."

"What?" Meghan demanded. "Tell me."

"No," Kevin said sharply. "Michael and Jeff are coming here in fifteen minutes and they'll tell you themselves."

From the looks of things, it wasn't good. "And you can't tell us?" Dennis asked quietly.

"No," Kevin answered with a frown, but he wasn't looking at any of us. He just sort of brushed off the front of his dark blue shirt and cleared his throat. "Just leave it at that, okay?"

"Oh, c'mon, Kevin. We can act surprised."

For the third time, Kevin said, "No. Now, have you finished the sound checks?"

"Ah, no," Andy answered. He looked as troubled as I felt. His normally calm demeanor had been replaced by a frown and worry. He pulled off his baseball cap and scrubbed a hand through his white-blond hair. "No, we're, uh, we're not done."

"Come on, then. Let's get them done. What's left?"

"The two saxes and the keyboards are done. Nothing else."

"What the hell have you been doing here?" AJ asked, irritated. "You're not getting paid to sit around." He glared at the floor and adjusted his dark shirt.

"We've been setting up," Jeremiah said from his place on one of the tall speakers. "It wasn't done right, so we've had to do it ourselves. We're running behind, but if you shut up and help, we can get this done."

AJ let that go and sighed. "Let's go, then."

Jeff and Michael, managers extraordinaire, wandered in about half an hour later. We'd been making some good progress getting everything done, but the conversation and good-natured joking was gone. Something was definitely up, and we figured out what when the duo made their entrance and dropped the big bomb.

Jeff's first words weren't even words of greeting. "We're phasing out the band," he blurted to the assembled group, which was just the five of us who comprised it. The Boys were elsewhere.

"What?" Dennis, who was a lot faster to react than the rest of us, managed to spit out. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Obviously they didn't tell you," Michael murmured. "We've decided to...change the Boys' image."

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious," Meghan said calmly, blinking slowly. "But what do you mean you're phasing the band out?"

"Just that," Jeff said. "Look, you're all very valuable and great musicians, but we're trying to make these Boys sound more mature so that they have longer staying power. As you've probably seen already, pop is being pushed out again, and we've got to change with the times. So they're going to take over playing the music for all their songs. We'll want you to stick around to help out record the album, but you'll not be needed for the next tour."

The five of us stood looking at each other in silence. Jeremiah's eyes were distant and thoughtful, as were Andy's. Meghan's were dark, and Dennis' were unreadable. None of us wanted to believe it. Well, it wasn't like the world was going to end or anything, but we'd all gotten used to being here and we all pretty much figured on being around longer.

"You'll be well compensated," Michael informed us. "And we'll set you up with new gigs." He looked in my direction. "Did they talk to you?"

"Me?" I asked. "No."

"Oh. No wonder you...sorry. We want you to stick around."

I looked around at the others and saw them looking back at me with some contempt. "Why me?"

"I think you know why," Jeff said. "You're back to your old self and those new songs are absolutely fabulous. I know the Boys did most of the lyrical work, but the music is fantastic and Kevin told me that you were responsible."

"Hey," Dennis interjected, "we had hands in it, too."

"I'm sure you did, but the Boys all agreed that Josh did the most work out of all of you."

I felt myself going red. It was embarrassing to be in the middle of something like this. I felt kind of bad about being the only one staying, but at the same time, it was job security. After a few more moments, I excused myself and went to find the guys. It was still relatively early, and with most of the sound checks done, they were relaxing.

I didn't smile when I saw them. "Do you really want to become a real band?" I asked bluntly.

Nick and AJ both shrugged. "Sure," AJ said. "It's not really that big of a deal."

"You don't mind?"

Brian looked up from the big pool table in the middle of the room and smiled. "Didn't I tell you once that I'm not a big fan of dancing? It'll be kind of nice to be able to get away from that for a while."

"We're all tired," Howie said, tossing down a book. "Besides, this was going to happen eventually, and we thought now would be a good time."

"You thought?" I asked. "Or Jeff and Michael thought it for you?"

"We thought it," Kevin said firmly, taking his shot at the pool table. The cue ball struck the eight a glancing blow, but it was enough to land it in the corner pocket. He grimaced. "Dammit. Lost again."

"Mind your language," I murmured absently, and then realized what I'd just said. They were all looking at me strangely. "Sorry. Alex has me doing that."

"So, what do you think?" Nick asked, as he moved around the pool table, collecting the balls from the pockets. "About sticking around when they're all leaving?"

I asked them the same thing I asked Jeff and Michael. "Why me?"

"I think you know why." That was Kevin.

"Okay, okay. I feel a little strange about it."

"Why?" AJ asked. He'd taken a seat on one of the couches. "You're all our good friends and it sucks to have to lose any of you, but you know that you are, hands down, the best musician out of any of us. If you really wanted to, you could go solo."

"And pigs might fly," I muttered. That was something I'd never considered and wouldn't consider for a while.

"You're supposed to help us learn how to play," Brian said quietly. "That's the big part of it, but you also play the violin and none of them do."

Nick smiled wryly, "And we noticed you used it pretty heavily in those new pieces."

I shrugged. "I just like the sound."

"Whatever."

"So this tour marks the end of it for the dancing, then, huh?"

"No. Europe, remember? That'll be it, then." Kevin answered before shooting. This time, the cue struck the three dead on and it settled into the side pocket. He moved around to the other side. "You've seen how people are starting to turn on the pop musicians. It's just time we moved on." He shot. The four glanced off the eight before settling into the corner.

Well. That was interesting. I wanted to talk more, but the rest of the band, all somber, came back into the room.

The tour meandered back toward Florida. A distance grew between the band and the group, which no one could seem to help. No one fought, but everyone seemed to pull away. Brian, out of everyone, seemed to pull away most.

He got quiet, restless, and spent almost all of his time with Jeremiah. When he was around any of us, there was a sullen, angry air about him. His performances didn't suffer, but he lashed out at us a lot, and refused to talk to us.

Kevin and Nick worried especially, but all of us were bothered. Jeremiah, meanwhile, became sharp and aggressive. Just like the old days. I began to wonder about him, but as the tour began to wind down, he mellowed out. But still, I had my doubts. So did everyone else.

We finished the tour right on time and went our own ways for a week before AJ, Brian, Howie, Kevin, Nick, and I all had to report to Jeff's office. It took five hours to decide which songs were going to be on the new album. There would be fifteen in all, which was a lot, but we didn't care.

After that, I took another couple of days off while the Boys did their photo shoots and interviews, which I spent in the company of my wonderfully attentive and loving significant other. Christian was happy to see me and was starting to talk. He'd called Alex 'daddy,' and I regretted missing that. But then Christian started calling me 'daddy,' as well, which was great.

Early the next week, which was just at the beginning of spring, we started recording. The band showed up to lay down the track, but also to show the Boys what needed to be done. We only had a month before we had to be off for Europe, which pissed Alex off, but there was nothing that could be done. The summer tour was important.

Brian still seemed distant in the studio and especially on the road, but no one wanted to say anything. There wasn't really anything wrong with him, other than the fact that he just didn't say a lot and kept to himself, mostly. He was restless and moody, which cast a pall on all of us, but he just didn't want to talk about it.

While on the road in Europe, we took time away to finish laying down the music for the album, and the Boys got a good deal done with the vocals. By the time we left Europe in late July, they were mostly done.

We said our final farewells to the band at the last show in London. It was dry-eyed and informal, as we'd already said what we wanted to say by then. Meghan and Andy were going to join a fledgling band together so they wouldn't be split up. They were going to be married sometime around Christmas. Dennis had been asked to be in Brittany Spears' backup band, to which, obviously, he readily agreed.

As for Jeremiah, Brian had talked Jeff into letting him stay on as one of the technical crew. I didn't like it, and it was clear that none of the others did, either. We all walked in wide circles of him because he'd changed. In place of the affable, friendly person we'd come to know was a quiet, but mean person that no one liked. Just like old times.

Kevin, AJ, Nick, Howie, and I talked a lot during the recording sessions and in Europe about what was going on with him and Brian. None of us knew and we didn't know what to do. In the end, we didn't do anything, and just let it go. Brian pulled away and his expressive, striking eyes became guarded and a little dull again.

But we didn't do anything about it.

The tour ended and the band disappeared. The reaction in public was mixed, but everyone was pretty willing to give it a go. The Boys spent most of the first five days in August recording the last bit of vocals, and then it was declared finished.

Michael called us into his office not long after that. I'd brought Christian because I wanted to spend time with him. He was getting big and heavy, now over a year old, but he was still the charmer he'd been when he was small. He talked up a storm to strangers, but I'd told him to be quiet for a while.

"Hey guys," Michael said, walking in and sitting down on a chair. "I have some interesting news. Mariah Carey wants to do a song with you guys at the MTV Video Music Awards." He looked in my direction. "And your video is up for five awards."

"That's so cool," AJ said, grinning broadly. Then he frowned. "She wants to do a song with us? Why? We don't have any other collaborations with her."

Michael shrugged. "That's no big deal."

I was still puzzled as to why he'd called me in with the group. "Uh, why am I here, now?" I asked from my chair.

"Haven't you figured it out by now?" Jeff asked. "What is your primary job with this group?"

I sighed. Of course. "The music, right? You want me to supply the song."

"Yeah. Mariah expressed interest in working with the Boys and their head songwriter, who is you, so there you go. She'll be in New York City for the next two weeks, so, my apologies, but the six of you are going to have to head up there this afternoon."

I glanced at Christian. "You know, you really ought to give us more notice than this."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" I asked, indicating the little lad who'd wiggled out of my lap and was playing quietly on the floor. "I can't exactly leave him at home alone. If I can meet them there tomorrow, I can arrange for care."

Jeff sighed. "Fine. Just so you get there, okay. Hell, why don't all of you just go there tomorrow?"

"Hell!" Christian yelled happily. "Daddy...hell!" He had a knack for picking up language.

"Mind watching your language?" I asked, but I was laughing. So were the rest of them. "He picks it up quickly." I picked him up and put him in my lap. He giggled as I ticked his stomach. Christian was rapidly becoming a favorite with both the Boys and their management.

"So he does," Michael said around his own grin. "Bright boy. Yeah, I suppose you all can go tomorrow, but you need as much time as possible up there."

"Right," Kevin sighed.

When I got back to the house, I made a quick little lunch for the two of us, and then we headed to Alex's office. Alex was quite happy to see us.

"Hey, there's my boy," he said, holding his arms out for Christian.

"Da," Christian yelled, running with his pudgy little baby steps to Alex's waiting arms. Christian distinguished between the two of us by calling me 'daddy' and Alex 'da'.

"I'm glad you stopped by," Alex said. "Where were you?"

"With the Boys and management," I said.

"Oh. Say, something's come up, and I'm flying to New York tomorrow morning because I have to help the boss with a presentation. I'm sorry it's so spur of the moment. Can you take care of Chris?"

Whoa, now that was a little more than I could handle. "No," I said, laughing. "Believe it or not, I was coming over here to ask you the same thing. The Boys and I are supposed to be meeting Mariah Carey in New York so we can write a song to perform for the VMA's next month."

Alex chuckled. "So I guess he gets to come up to New York with us, then."

"Yeah. How long are you staying?"

"Three or four days. You?"

"As long as it takes to write this song. They said she'll be up there for two weeks, so that's the maximum," I said. "But I'm pretty sure it won't take anywhere near that long."

"Well, I'm bailing Jim out, so I'm sure he'll be nice and let me stay up there until you come back." Jim was his boss.

"That sounds cool," I said. "What a weird coincidence. We're both going to New York City tomorrow. Say, do you want to fly up with the Boys? We're heading out early."

"Sure."

"I'll call them."

It was no problem, so the next morning, we packed up and got onto the plane. Christian was good, as usual, although he was just a bit fussy. Now that he could talk, he used his voice and talked a lot of the way up there. It was cute, but after a while, it grew a little annoying, so I gave him a few toys to play with. He ended up hitting Howie in the nose with a plastic block, but fortunately for all, Howie was okay.

When we got there, I took Christian with me to check into our hotel. Alex went to meet up with his boss. We were supposed to meet Mariah at a studio at one in the afternoon. I wondered how long it would take to write the song. From what I heard, she wrote some of her own music, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The seven of us got to the studio right on time. A short man greeted us at the door and showed us to a large, private studio. A tall, slim woman with long, brown hair was lounging in a comfortable chair. She was wearing tight jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. Her eyes were inward turned, but when she heard us walk into the room, she came back to reality and smiled.

"Ah, there you guys are," she said. "Right on time."

"Here we are," Kevin said walking forward to shake her hand. "I'm Kevin. This is AJ, Nick, Howie, my cousin Brian, and Josh." He paused and realized that he'd forgotten Christian. "Oh, and this is Josh's son Christian."

"Nice to meet you all, finally," she murmured. We all knew her name, and it would have been redundant for her to say it. Her eyes latched onto Christian and she smiled. "He's cute. Jeez, these boy band performers just keep getting younger and younger."

That got us all laughing. Christian just looked mildly puzzled and then toddled over to her and raised his chubby arms. "Up!" he said loudly. When she picked him up, he grinned and we all laughed again.

"Boy, he's not shy, is he?" Kevin asked.

"Nope," I said.

Mariah, meanwhile, was chuckling. "So, Josh, you're the songwriter of the group, yes?"

"I guess so," I said.

"Well, why don't we get to this, guys? I have until five o'clock this evening for today. We can at least bounce around a few ideas."

I shrugged and walked over to the piano. "Would you guys mind coming over here? It's just easier for me, at least, to start on the piano." I saw that Christian was already starting to doze off. "You can put him into his stroller," I told Mariah. "He'll sleep for a few hours and stay out of out way."

None of them minded, and soon, we were all tossing ideas around. Nick and Brian came up with the idea for a not-so-serious song. It seemed like a good idea because we were all in this for fun. I picked out a catchy melody, grateful that I'd been able to recover from that bad go all those months ago. The guys and Mariah started out on harmonies and thought about lyrics.

The song was totally finished in another two days. The best part of it was that everyone had a hand in it. All of us contributed something. Mariah, Kevin, AJ, Howie, and Nick did most of the lyrics, while Brian and I built up the music. When the basic melody was down, we all worked on harmonies and vocals. It worked like a charm and when we were done, we had a funny, catchy little pop number that I was proud to have had a hand in.

Since it had taken so little time, our management suggested we record it. That meant another day and a half for me. I did the faster-paced beat on the keys, while Brian and Howie jammed out on the guitars. Nick added a relatively simple drumbeat and that was it for me. They all had to go back later and add vocals, which took them another day or so, but it was very simple.

Meanwhile, I spent time in the city with Alex and Christian. Alex's presentation had gone smoothly, and the shareholders were going to give their official word within a week, but it looked good. It looked like the company was going to expand beyond Florida. If that happened, Alex was going to be promoted again and taking over Jim's job as manager. How Alex managed to move through the ranks of the company so fast, I'll never know, but he was happier than I'd seen him in a long time.

We headed back to Florida about five days early and Alex went right back to work. Since I had that time off, I spent it with Christian. He'd been going to daycare in my absence, but I was eager to spend time with him. The group had been working pretty hard and this was time off that I needed.

I still thought about the time when I'd fallen apart. Nothing like that had happened on tour, but at times, I was afraid of losing my sanity. I hated being alone. That was why I'd taken to going out with the guys on tour. I didn't drink, and the clubs we sometimes went to were awfully noisy, but that was better than being alone.

Of course, it's funny how quickly things can change. A few relatively peaceful weeks passed like the blink of an eye. Alex's company had gotten the green light for expansion and Alex had settled into his new job with gusto. He was a born leader, even if he didn't know it. The company was becoming a front-runner in software manufacturing. They made games, word-processing software, and were hoping to put out operating software to rival Microsoft, but the chances of that happening were, realistically, nonexistent. But still, they wanted to try.

For some reason, Alex had become quiet around me lately. I wasn't home a lot of the time, and when I was, I had to compete for his attention with Christian. That, of course, had stemmed from when I'd been in the hospital the year before. Alex had to take care of him and me, and now, I was starting to see the repercussions of it.

I tried to talk to him about it, but he didn't say much. So, I left it alone and tried to help out as much as I could, but he made it clear that Christian was his responsibility and I shouldn't trouble myself. It bugged me, and I knew I should have said something, but I couldn't. I tried, though.

The distance grew little by little, hardly noticed at first.

Still, we were all looking forward to going to New York for the MTV Video Music Awards. We were going three days early because of rehearsals and stuff like that. This year, the guys were hoping to win more than one award, and it looked like maybe...just maybe they stood a chance. The thing was that they wanted me to come up with them, since I'd been in the video with them. I protested, but they insisted. If they won, I'd be there too.

A couple of days before we were going to leave, Alex came home after work looking very serious. He'd picked up Christian from daycare on his way home and was carrying the fussy tyke. I was sitting at the dining room table writing a few things down in a journal. I was worried and a little bit wary at his look.

"Josh, I need to talk to you," Alex said, setting Christian down on the couch and shushing him. They were both a little wet from the rain that was falling outside.

"Sure," I answered, tossing my pen down. "What's up?"

"Listen, about the awards thing, I'm not going to be able to make it. Christian's daycare is having a play and he's in it. I want to go, but it's the same day as the awards."

I blinked incredulously. "You're not coming?"

"I'm sorry, Josh, but I want to spend more time with Christian."

"So that's it, then?" I asked, utterly baffled. "You're going to miss seeing me play for the Boys and Mariah Carey? And possibly getting an award? Thanks. It's nice to know just how much I mean to you."

"I'm sorry, but Christian is just as important to me."

"I know," I said. "I know that, Alex. But..." I sighed, jumped up, and started pacing. "But lately, it's always me versus Christian for your attention." I put my hands in front of me, palms up, like a set of balances. "Josh. Christian." I indicated each hand by turn. "Christian. Josh. Lately, it's been all this." I raised my right hand above the left; the right was the one I'd nodded toward when I'd said Christian's name. "Christian is taking up so much of your time lately, I'm beginning to wonder if you even remember me anymore."

Alex's eyes were hard. "Somebody's got to take care of him. You certainly aren't around to do it. Besides, you didn't want him in the first place, remember? So why worry?"

That stung, especially since it wasn't true. But still... "You never gave me much of a choice," I said. "If I recall correctly, your words were, 'Oh, he doesn't mind.' I didn't mind, and I don't. I love that boy like he's my own. I didn't, however, expect you to pull away from me like you have."

"Is that my fault? You don't seem that interested in taking care of Christian."

"I do plenty!" I argued. I jumped up and started to pace. "Dammit, Alex, that's not fair! I do just as much as you without ever bitching about it. I can't help it that my job takes me away from here. But when I'm here, I don't dump him off at the daycare, do I? No. All I've heard from you lately, though, is that I'm not doing my share or that he's your responsibility since he's your child by law. When I do try to help you, you just tell me to leave it alone. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Just back off, okay? He is my responsibility."

"And mine. But what about me, Alex? Don't you have any responsibility to me anymore? My god. I love you, you know. But it's hard when you won't let me."

"Do you love me? I used to think maybe you did, but now, I'm not so sure. You're so...you're selfish. That's all. It's always about you and what you want to do. It always has been." Alex had tears in his eyes. "Dammit, I have a life, too! Christian is my life. If you can't accept that, well then, to hell with you!" He turned around and walked out, slamming the door firmly behind him. Christian started crying.

It was my turn to sigh. I walked to him and picked him up. He was getting pretty heavy, but wasn't too much trouble. I walked him around and tried my best to quiet him. After a while, he stopped and laid his head back down on my shoulder. His chest hitched for a little while, but eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

What in Christ's name had just happened here? Had I been selfish? Was I shirking my responsibility to Alex and Christian? I tried. I'd only been gone for three months this year and had even flown the two of them out to be with me for a while. Sure, I didn't take Christian with me to the recording studio, but he was happy in daycare and he wasn't in the way there.

The more I thought about it, the more his words seemed to make sense. I had been laid out for a while when I'd been in the hospital. He'd had to take time off work to take care of me and the baby. I hadn't been much help for a long time afterward. I'd done what I could, but it had taken a long time for Alex to trust me with Christian again. And even now, he was wary about leaving us alone.

I couldn't think of one good thing to say to him. I realized that we'd gotten distant in the last few weeks, but neither of us had noticed. We'd found our projects and immersed ourselves in them. I kept walking Christian around the room and wondered what I'd say to Alex when he showed back up.

A short while later, there was a soft tap at the front door. I set the sleeping Christian down in his crib and padded to open it. It was raining, still, I could see as I opened the door. But that was soon forgotten when I saw who stood outside.

"Brian," I gasped, taking in the shaking, pale specter in front of me. His face was bruised and bleeding quite badly, and his eyes were swimming with tears. "Jesus Christ, come in out of the rain." I moved aside to let him past.

He stumbled on his way in and landed in a sobbing heap on the floor. When I reached down to try to help him, he pulled away, terrified. "D- don't t-touch me."

I moved away and stood looking over him, confused. "Brian, I just want to help you. What can I do? Do you want me to call Kevin?"

"N-No!" He calmed down a little and managed to pick himself up from the floor.

As gently as I could, I reached out and led him into my room. "Come on. Let's get you out of those wet clothes, okay?"

He nodded and followed, but was still crying pretty hard. There was, I noticed, blood dripping out of his nose and off his lip, so we went into the bathroom instead. He sat down on the sink and grabbed a handful of tissues. "Thank you."

"Sure." I didn't press. "Say, I'll be right back, okay? I'm going to go check on Christian and I'll get something for you to wear. Alex is closer to your size than I am."

"Okay," he whispered huskily. "Just...d-don't leave me."

"I won't. Will you tell me what happened?" When he nodded, I smiled and turned to walk out of the room. Christian was still sleeping soundly, but I didn't want to leave him alone, so after I grabbed a clean T-shirt and sweats for Brian, I picked up the little boy and took him up to the crib in my room.

"Here," I said. He had stripped down, and was wearing only a towel. I winced as I looked at his body. There were bruises, fresh and half- healed, running the length of his torso. "Jesus. Jesus Christ, Brian. What happened to you?"

He looked up, blue eyes dull and swimming, and then looked away. One word escaped his lips, much like a melancholy sigh. "Jeremiah." He accepted the clothing and proceeded to dress. Out of politeness, I turned away.

I was angry. The pieces had suddenly fallen into place, and even though I wanted to hear exactly what had happened, I already knew. People sure as hell didn't change. The only question that remained was what the hell I was going to do about Jeremiah? He'd beaten Brian before, obviously, judging by the half-healed bruises on Brian's body.

Brian cleared his throat. "I, uh, I came home this afternoon, a-and he was...well, doing some other guy. It shocked me and...and I asked what the hell was going on. He got up and just...he said...I wasn't...he said I was just...I was just a fuck and that he never loved me. He said...he said I was bad in bed and worthless. Then he...started hitting me. The guy yelled at him to stop...but he wouldn't. So I ran. I didn't know where to go, but I ended up over here." His eyes held mine, pleading. "Please help me."

By that point, I was literally trembling with my anger. "What do you want me to do?" I asked.

At that point, he broke down again. This time, I was right by his side. I led him into my room and sat him down on the bed, while he cried out his pain and frustration on my shoulder. But there was also a measure of relief in his tears. He clung to me as if I were the only thing that could keep him from drowning. I held him gently and just let him let go. In the back of my mind, however, I was thinking about be best way to strike back at Jeremiah, short of castration.

After a while, maybe twenty minutes, Brian's sobs tapered off and he tried to compose himself. He sighed, but didn't let go of me. "Can...can I stay here for tonight?"

I shrugged. "Sure. You can stay as long as you want. My study is open and it's got that big, comfy couch." I'd forgotten all about the little argument I'd had with Alex.

"Thanks. I guess...well...it's over. Between Jeremiah and me, that is."

"I figured. How long has he been hitting you?"

"I don't know. He'd only done it a few times before." His eyes were pleading. "It didn't even start until about a month ago."

"What do you want to do?" I shifted a little so that I could look up into his eyes, but he rested his chin on my head. It was actually quite comfortable.

He sighed and said, "I don't know yet. I just...I'll need to talk to Kevin tomorrow. We can figure it out from there. For now, I want to just be away." He sniffled. "Thank you, though. You don't know how much your being here has meant to me."

"It's no big deal," I said. "I just want you to be safe and well. After all, aren't we friends?"

"Sure." A long pause ensued, in which we just sat and relaxed. I was comfortable and drowsy in his arms, even though there were warning bells going off in the back of my mind.

A couple of gentle fingers found their way under my chin and lifted it up. Before I could so much as blink, a pair of warm lips had found mine. For the first moment, I couldn't think, couldn't move. I was trapped, utterly helpless to resist. And after that moment, I didn't want to resist.

Suddenly, reality came crashing down when an angry voice snapped, "What the hell is going on here?"

To be continued... *************

Perhaps the three most hated words, those. A cliffhanger. Reality does indeed come crashing down. Well, this is almost the end, folks. Part 6 is going to be the end. It's more than likely going to be longer than these previous (I can hear people saying, "Jesus, Chris, they're long enough as it is." Sorry.). That's just the way it is.

This one was a little different, I know. I wasn't really even sure if I was going to put it through, but a friend told me that I probably should, so I figured I would. I'm not even too sure if I like it, but here it is. Not too much I can do about it now.

Anyway, I'll stop blabbering now and leave it at that. This next one may take as long or longer to get out, depending on how many revisions I decide to make, but it'll be there sooner or later. Until then, take care and happy reading. Adieu.