For Charise Wilson, the summer of 1993 will be remembered for many things; being a cast member on Disney's All New Mickey Mouse Club, bonfires on the beach, living next to the happiest place on earth, and spending almost every day in the Chasez apartment six doors down from her own. Her best friend Heather's room had practically become her second bedroom as they spent almost every weekend discussing which boys they wanted to go out with and putting together outfits for the coolest parties. Every time she thought about that magical summer of '93 she would always smell Bath and Body Works Cotton Blossom, feel the cool breeze of the ocean water wash up against her legs, and the feeling of falling in love for the very first time.

"Okay Jason or Rodney?"

 "Ugh, that's so not fair!"

"C'mon Char, just pick one." It was a rainy Saturday and fifteen-year-olds Heather Chasez and her best friend Charise Williams were sitting on her bed playing one of their favorite games, Who Would You Rather? Heather was holding up two posters, one of Jason Priestly, and one of Rodney Harvey that she had ripped from an old issue of Tiger Beat.

"Fine," Char sighed, twisting a cherry Blow Pop between her fingers. She looked from left to right, contemplating between the choices as if she were choosing whether to donate a kidney. "Hmm,"

"Oh, for crying out loud," Heather whined.

 "Okay, okay, I pick Rodney," Char decided.

"Really?" Heather grimaced.

 "Yeah, what's wrong with Harvey?"

 "I heard he's a druggie," Heather said, placing both posters aside and digging her hand into the bowl of caramel popcorn on her nightstand.

 "Oh whatever, that's probably just a rumor! Pass me some popcorn." Heather reached for the bowl and passed it to Char.

"Yeah just like it was a rumor about River Phoenix," Heather countered. Both Char and Heather bowed their heads in a moment of silence for beloved fallen idol.

"Okay, maybe you have a point, but I don't want Shannen Doherty to claw my eyes out!"

"Oh whatever, they are not dating, that'd be like incest."

"Heather, they play twins, they're not twins."

  "Yeah, well I still don't see it for them." Heather reached for another magazine from the stack on her bed. The latest issue of People magazine.

"Oh, come on, the chemistry between them is palpable, they're totaling doing it!" Char speculated.

"Hey maybe you can get cast on the show and find out for yourself."

 

 "Oh my God how cool would that be? Then I'd have my pick of Jason, Brian, and Luke!"

  "Hey what about me?"

"You can come along, and take your pick, but I call dibs on Brian."

 

"Brian Austin Green is too wimpy," Heather said. "Luke is way more.... Manly!"

  "Okay, you can have Luke, and I'll take Brian. It's a win-win. Neither us has to fight over Jason, and then Shannen won't claw our eyes out!" Char and Heather laughed as they fantasized about mingling with the cast members of Beverly Hills, 902010.

 "Ugh, that wench," Heather snarled, thinking of Shannen Doherty.

 "Okay, my turn!" Char spread the stack of magazines out on Heather's bed. She took a copy of Tiger Bear and a copy of Us Weekly and began flipping through them until she landed on her two desired heartthrobs. "Who would you rather lose your virginity to?" She asked Heather, as she picked up the copy of Us Weekly and held it front of her face. "Leonardo DiCaprio, or..." Char held up the copy of Tiger Beat in the other hand, "Joey Lawrence?"

 

"Oh, don't make me choose..."

"C'mon Heather just pick one," Char said mimicking her friend.

 "Fine, Leo. He seems like he'd be a passionate lover," Heather smiled.

 "He'd hold you tight while sweetly making love to you, and you could stare into those gorgeous blue eyes of his..." Char teased.

"What is it with your obsession with blue eyes?" Heather groaned. Typically, Char loved the pretty boys with the classic good looks. Jason Priestly, Leonardo DiCaprio, Rob Lowe. Heather liked them a little rougher around the edges: Johnny Depp, Luke Perry, Anthony Kiedis.

  "You can get lost in blue eyes, they're like an ocean. Besides only 8 percent of the world's population has blue eyes. By my estimation that means that around roughly 4 percent of men have blue eyes, making them unique and-"

   "Yeah so that makes me pretty unique huh?" Heather and Char were interrupted by Heather's older brother Joshua, also known as JC, collapsing onto her bed behind Char.

 

"JC Chasez has entered the building standing at 5'11, with dark luscious waves, and deep blue eyes. Yes ladies, he's unique, charming, and oh so handsome!!!" Char teased in her best sports announcer's voice. Heather rolled her eyes so hard she thought she'd seen her skull.

 

 "Well you know, not everyone can be as gifted as I am," JC joked.

 "Wow, I'm starting to feel claustrophobic there's not enough room in here with Josh's big ego," Heather chided.

 "You love me," JC teased. He reached over towards Heather and grabbed a handful of popcorn. Char could feel the back of his hand brush up against her bare thigh, right were her overall shorts cut off. She hoped he hadn't noticed the sudden goosebumps on her skin, or her hear her heartbeat a mile a minute. She worked alongside him nearly every day for the past two years and being in close proximity to him did not get any easier. "What are y'all doing later on?" He asked.

 "Why what's up?" Char asked, her curiosity piqued.

 "Me, Dale and Tony are gonna go see Hocus Pocus, wanna come?"

Char made eye contact with Heather, silently pleading with her to say yes.

 "Hmmm, I don't know," Heather replied, deciding to mess with her friend, whose eyes were practically begging by now.

 "What about you, Char?" JC asked.

 "Char and I are hanging out tonight!" Heather protested. As much as she loved her brother, sometimes she hated having to share her best friend. He already had the upper hand with Char considering that they were cast mates on Disney's MMC. He did know her first.

"Char's a big girl she can speak for herself," JC countered. "C'mon Char, what do you want to do?"

Char hated feeling stuck between her two best friends, especially since they were siblings. Considering that she was an only child, she hated being in the middle of a sibling rivalry. "Well, I mean the movies do sound fun." Truth be told, Char could care less about what movie they were going to see, as long as she could sit next to JC, they could be seeing Pee-Wee's Big Adventure for all she cared. And there's no one in the world that she hated more than Pee-Wee Herman.

  "C'mon, just say yes..." JC urged.

 

 Heather could see that she wasn't going to win this one. Whenever JC came around, Char practically melted on the spot. He could say ‘jump' and she'd ask, ‘how high'. It would be pathetic if it weren't so darn cute. "Fine, we'll go," Heather conceded.

 

 "Cool, be ready by eight. I called Moviefone and there's a 9:15 show," JC smiled.

 "Fine 8:30 it is," Heather teased. If JC said eight, what he really meant was eight-ish. He was good at a lot of things but being on time was not one of them.

 "Hey, I said what I said," JC shot back. He grabbed Char's hand and took a lick of her Blow Pop. He winked at her and got up from the bed.

Char thought she would die.

"You snot," Heather reached behind her for a pillow and tossed it at him. In smooth JC fashion he ducked right on time, and the pillow just missed him landing by the doorway.

"Like I said, eight o'clock," JC called, disappearing down the hall.

"Oh my God Char, please wipe that grin off of your face," Heather sighed.

"What grin?" Char asked, trying hard to purse her lips and keep from smiling.

  "That big ear to ear grin that screams ‘I Love You JC Chasez and I Want the Whole World to Know About it!'" Heather exclaimed.

 "Oh, whatever," Char said looking down at the bed to avoid eye contact with Heather. She grabbed a hold of one of her French braids and began to furiously twist it around her finger.

Heather smirked at the typical tell-tale sign that Char was lying. "You are so in love with my brother."

 "Am not," Char contested.

"Uh, yeah you are. There's no point in lying. You're only lying to yourself. Everyone can see it. Besides, my brother's crazy about you." As much shit as Heather gave JC and Char, they were both important to her. So maybe she did have a tiny jealous streak, but nothing would make her happier than seeing them together.

  "He is?" Char perked up at what she thought of as pertinent information.

  "How can you not tell?" Heather asked. "You should see the way he looks at you." Char blushed. "Oh God, don't get all sappy on me!"

"Shut up!" Char squeaked, playfully swatting Heather across the arm.

"Okay, okay, enough about my dork of a brother. Back to the game!"

 "Your turn," Char replied.

"Okay, Mark-Paul Gosselaar or Will Friedle?"

  "Duh- Mark-Paul!"

 

 

Later that night, JC, Heather, and Char were waiting in line for tickets to see Hocus Pocus, along with Dale Godboldo and Tony Lucca- two of JC and Char's castmates on the MMC.

"Dang, how long is this line?" Dale asked.

"See Josh, I told you we should have left sooner," Heather said.

"We won't be in line for much longer. Besides I'm not the one who spent so long in the mirror doing my make-up," JC shot back.

"Oh whatever, you spend more time I the mirror than I do pretty boy!"

"Okay, break it up you two," Tony said. "The lines moving up." JC and Char who were standing together took two steps forward, and Heather gave him a gentle shove. Tony and Dale were both behind Heather.

 "Cut it out, we can't take y'all anywhere," Dale whispered.

"Hey Char, can I borrow your Lenny Kravitz CD?" Tony asked. "I wanna practice the chords to Believe."

"Yeah sure," Char replied. "I'll give it to you when we get back to the complex."

"Don't do it Char," Dale warned. "I let him borrow my Arrested Development cassette tape and haven't seen it since!"

"Man, your trippin'. I gave you that tape back. I know for a fact I did because I gave it back to you when I gave JC back his copy of Lethal Weapon 3!"

 "Which I still don't have," JC interjected.

 "Never mind. The line's moving up," Tony said trying to deflect the conversation. Finally, they reached the ticket counter.

"What are you all seeing tonight?" The cashier asked.

"I'd like a ticket for Pocus please," Char requested. She unzipped her purse and took out her wallet.

"Uh, I got this Char," JC said.

"Huh"? Char asked, confused.

"I'll get your ticket," JC clarified.

"Oh, that's okay, you don't have to do that," Chad protested.

"C'mon Char I insist. Please," JC pleaded. The cashier looked at them expectantly waiting on someone to purchase the tickets.

"C'mon girl, let the man pay for your ticket. It's just a movie ticket, not a down payment on a house!" Dale interjected.

"We'll take two tickets see Hocus Pocus," JC said to the cashier. JC handed the woman a twenty-dollar bill, and she rang up the purchase, handing JC the tickets and his change.

"Finally," Heather huffed.  While Heather, Dale, and Tony purchased their tickets, JC and Char walked over to the concession stand.

"Thanks again for the ticket JC, you really didn't have to do that," Char smiled sweetly.

"Nonsense, I wanted to. What do you want?" He asked as they approached the concession counter.

"No, you're not buying my snacks too!"

"Of course, I am. What kind of gentleman doesn't buy a ladies' snacks?"

"You're not buying Heather's snacks," Char countered.

"I said lady," JC joked, and Char laughed. "Relax, let a guy treat you sometime."

  Char could feel her heart soaring. Was this a date? "Thank you," was all she could manage to get out.

"Can I get a large popcorn with extra butter, Twizzlers, and large Cherry Coke please?" JC asked the concession attendant.

 

Char stood back in awe that he remembered her usual order. She hadn't even thought that he paid attention.

 

"And I'll also take a pack of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups." JC's favorite. "Hey, what do you say we get two seats by ourselves?" He asked, turning to Char.

 

"As in just me and you?" Char asked.

 

"Yeah, unless you have an imaginary friend or something?"

 

"I-" Char was completely caught off guard. JC tricked her into a date. Smooth, real smooth, she thought.

 

"It was a joke Char," JC laughed. "Why are you so tense?"

"No, I know it was a joke, it's just what about-" Char motioned toward their group who had started to walk toward the concession stand.

"Heather, Dale, and Tony will be fine. I just wanna spend some time alone with you. Is that alright?" JC asked.

Char could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She was blushing hard. She couldn't help but to smile from ear to ear. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your smile?"

  Around midnight the group arrived back at their apartment complex. Tony and Dale each went to their own apartments, and Char went with JC and Heather to theirs so she could retrieve her backpack from Heather's room.

Char was in Heather's room stuffing her make-up kit, curling iron, and magazines into her backpack while Heather was tidying up.

"Hey, here's the book you let me borrow," Heather said, handing over a copy of V.C. Andrews' My Sweet Audrina.

"Oh thanks. Did you like it?" Char asked, stuffing the book down into her bag.

"I didn't finish it," Heather replied. Char gave her a look. "What? It's too tragic!"

"Whatever. Anyway, are we still up for the mall tomorrow?"

"You know it, there are a pair of Doc Martens with my name all over them!"

"Cool, see you tomorrow," Char said, before leaving Heather's room.

"Have a good night!" Heather called.

Char made her way through the hallway and into the living room where she found JC on the couch channel surfing. Quiet as a mouse, she took a moment to just stand there and take him in; watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed, his laser focus on the TV screen, his silky dark brown hair, his intense blue eyes, that perfect jawline. He was flawless.

JC could feel the presence of someone in the room. He looked up to see Char intently staring at him. "Oh, hey Char, I didn't know you were there."

"Uh- I was just on my way out," she stuttered. "Thanks again for everything JC, I really had a nice time tonight." Char made her way to the door.

"Here, let me walk you home," JC offered getting up from the couch.

"Oh no that's okay, I only live six doors down."

"Girl, do you think I'm really gonna let you walk home alone? It's well after midnight and anything can happen between here and those six doors," JC responded.

"If you insist..."

"I insist". JC opened the door for Char, and they made their way out of the apartment. They stepped out into the muggy August air, and he shut the door behind them. "So."

"So," Char repeated, looking up at JC in the moonlight.

"About tonight." Char and JC began their short walk to her apartment, and in a short time they were in front of her door.

"Yeah?" Char asked hopefully.

"Can we call it a date?"

"Yes, we can call it date." Char could feel her heart racing again. She tried to play it cool, but the butterflies in her stomach were betraying her.

"Good, because I'd really like to take you on another one. This time, alone." JC confessed.

"I'd really like that," Char said shyly. As outgoing as she typically was, JC was the only one who could turn her into a mute.

"So, is next Saturday good?" JC asked,

"Next Saturday is perfect," Char replied. "I can't wait. Thanks Josh." Char reached into her pocket for her door key and turned to unlock her door.

"Uhh Char," JC stammered. "There's something else I want to ask you."

"Yes," Char turned back to face him.

JC took a deep breath before he spoke. One question could change everything as they knew it. He wanted to get the words out before he talked himself out of it. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

The small swarm of butterflies in the pit of Char's stomach had turned into a full-on kaleidoscope. JC Chasez wanted to be her boyfriend? JC Chasez wanted her to be his girlfriend?

They stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity. JC could feel the wind being knocked out of him. He'd blown it. He'd just completely compromised their friendship. "Listen, I know it seems really sudden, and I can totally understand if you don't want- "

"JC, yes! I want to be your girlfriend!" Char exclaimed.

"Y-you do?" JC stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes, I always have," Char admitted.

"Really?" JC sighed in relief.

"Yes, really. JC?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you kiss me?" A sudden boldness came over Char.

JC looked down at Char and smiled. He pulled her close, grabbing her by the waist, and placed a soft gentle kiss on her lips. A proper kiss after a first date. A gentleman's kiss.

The moment their lips met; it was as if small currents of electricity were sparking their bodies. Everything was perfect about that moment; the moon, the stars in the night sky. Neither of them would have traded that moment for anything in the world.

Char pulled back from the kiss, and locked eyes with JC. He looked down at her, smiling. "Goodnight JC," Char smiled sweetly, twisting the doorknob behind her.

"Goodnight Char," JC smiled back, and began to walk back toward his apartment.

Char stepped into her apartment and closed the door behind her. With her back up against the wall, she took a moment to savor what just happened. Joshua Scott Chasez was hers, and she was his. And at that moment in her young 15 years of life she was positive that there was nothing better than that. She had completely fallen head over feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"So, what is it you want me to say exactly?" Char asked the producer, Jen, who was busy attaching her microphone pack.

"We're just gonna ask you some questions about what we're filming, and you can be as candid as you like." Jen explained. "Disclaimer: we'd like for you to be as candid as possible."

Char nodded. "I can do that." I have nothing to hide, she thought. So far, the film crew had been nothing but nice and accommodating to her. She liked Jen, a short and sassy Italian American with cherry red hair and a lip piercing, who looked to be in her early thirties. They'd had fun together, and she almost forgot she was working.

"Alright," Jen smiled at her. "You're all set."

After having her mic attached, Char sat down in the film chair in front of the green screen. A makeup artist and hairstylist approached her for quick touchups. Minutes later, the director took his seat behind the camera, and Jen sat next to him. "Quiet on set!" The director, Brett called. There were hushes and murmurs as the camera and production crew all got into place and quieted down. "And we are rolling in... three, two, one, action!"

Jen: So, Char, when we first began filming you were preparing to promote your new album. What does it feel like to finally be finished with the album and getting it out to the fans?

Char: I feel like... I'm purging in a sense? (Nervous laughter) I've spent two years perfecting this album, and every song is so personal to me, obviously because I wrote them, but also because each song tells of a personal experience. I've had so many ups and downs while creating this album, and I finally get to share it with my fans. It's like I can breathe a sigh of relief finally!

Jen: What about this album makes it so personal for you?

Char stopped, opening her mouth to speak, and then quickly closing it again. We'd like for you to be as candid as possible. Jen's words echoed in her mind. She was confident that she had nothing to hide, however she felt dumb for not better preparing for or expecting this type of question.

Char: Um... (Clears throat) I... I've been through a lot. So many growing pains, ya know? My last album came out right before I turned eighteen, and now I'm almost twenty-two. I'm growing and changing and learning every day. I've seen more of the world, and experienced so much that I feel my music is more mature, I have so much to say now and I hope that my fans have grown with me and can relate to that.

Good answer, Char. You're doing good!

Jen: Now, onto your love life.

Gee, what a segue!

Char: My love life?

Jen: Yes. You seem rather close with the *Nsync guys.

Char: I can honestly say they're my best friends. I've known JC and Justin since we were on the Mickey Mouse Club together, and I've known Chris since even before then. Joey used to hang out with us all the time on set, and I've been friends with Lance since he joined the group. I'm an only child, so they're the five annoying overprotective brothers I've never had!

Jen: Everyone wants to know if you're dating JC.

Char: (Nervous laughter, Char scratches the back of her neck and looks down before looking back at the camera.)

Josh is my best friend. We joined the MMC together at the same time and have been tight ever since. No, we're not dating. We're just really close, that's all.

Nervous bubbles began to form in the pit of Char's stomach. Now she knew why the tagline to MTV's ‘Diary' was, You think you know, but you have no idea.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Char's Narration:

Wanna see what I've been up to lately? Find out as I reveal my most intimate and private moments in my very own video diary. So, join me as I work a lot, play a little, but always have quality time with my favorite people. As I unleash my latest and most personal album, I invite you into my world. See my world, my way, because I've just begun to show you what I'm capable of. You think you know, but you have no idea. This is the diary of Charise Wilson.

February 02, 2000

"Oh my God, Chris! Take off my top, you're gonna stretch it out!" Char laughed hysterically as Chris came prancing out of the dressing room in her black and silver Gucci tube top.

"Don't hate!" Chris said, speaking with a lisp and snapping his fingers in a Z formation. "You're just mad because I can rock a crop top better than you!"

Char bowled over on the couch, howling. Her stomach began to cramp, as she wheezed for air. Justin, sitting beside her, threw his head back in laughter. Chris began to twirl in circles and walk around the warehouse as if he were Naomi Campbell on runway in Paris. Char laughed so hard that tears started to spill out of the corners of her eyes.

I got to spend an entire week with the guys of *Nsync. And as you can see, there's never a dull moment with them! (Char looks down with a smile on her face, before looking back up at the camera.) I love those boys; they mean so much to me. They're my boys! (Char giggles.) It's impossible to be unhappy or down whenever they're around. They're family ya know? I love having them around, which is why I'm so excited to be touring with them this summer. Having people around who truly know who you are as a person is so comforting.

"Uh-oh! Get it girl!" Joey called.

"Woop! Woop! Someone call the fire department, ‘cuz it just got hot!" Justin hissed.

"Oh my God, stop, y'all are messing me up!" Char laughed. She tried her best to focus on the poses, and to listen to the director, but the guys kept distracting her.

"You betta work, hunnay!" Chris snapped.

Music was blasting, cameras snapped at a million miles a minute, and a giant fan blew in front of Char, creating the illusion of window blowing through her hair. Usually, photoshoots could be exhausting and tedious, but having the guys with her seemed to make the time pass quickly. As Jay-Z's ‘Can I Get A' ended, ‘Butterfly' by CrazyTown blasted over the sound system, and Char began to dance along to it, as the photographer snapped pictures.

"Perfect! Love it!" The photographer, David LaChapelle called.

"Woo! Shake it, babe!" JC called, causing Char to visibly blush.

JC and I are just friends. Nothing more, so don't go getting any ideas! We just like to tease each other!

 

"Alright, success!" David clapped. "We've got what we needed. Let's all take a break, and then we'll get shots of Char with the guys." After Char walked away from the green screen, the crew immediately began to strike the set.

"Cut!" Brett, the MTV director called. As the photoshoot crew took down their equipment, Brett and the MTV producers stopped filming.

Char walked over to JC's chair, where a makeup artist applied a thick layer of foundation to his face. "Hey," Char said from behind. After spraying his face with a setting spray, the makeup artist moved onto Lance.

"Hey," JC said, peering at her through the mirror. "You look hot."

Butterflies swarmed in Char's stomach. Damn him for still having that effect on her. "You have to keep your flirting to minimum sir, or people or gonna think we're dating."

"God forbid the fans find out I have a girlfriend," JC replied sarcastically.

"Hey, your fans can get crazy. You see what happened to Britney, and she and Justin haven't even confirmed their relationship yet. I don't want any that fury coming my way."

"So... we just continue to pretend like we're just friends?" JC sighed, using air quotes.

"Yes, for a little while longer." Char replied, placing her hands on his shoulders and slightly massaging them. "At least until our albums are out. Let's not make waves now. Less drama, and less bullshit for Johnny and PR and the label to have to deal with."

"Fine." JC conceded. "But for what it's worth, this totally sucks." 

 

One Week Later

Dear Charise,

            I know you probably won't ever read this, but I'm writing on the small chance that hopefully you will. I just wanted to say that I love your song "It's All About You (Not About Me)"! I pretty much listen to it on repeat. It gave me the courage to walk away from a toxic relationship. Thank you for writing it! I can't wait until you come to Colombia. I've been dying to see your concert! Your music makes me feel like I can do anything. Thanks so much for being awesome!

            XOXOXO

            Callie 19, Colombia, SC

Char smiled to herself, her heart swelling. She re-read the message several times before responding. What could she say to something like that? Her music made some nineteen-year-old feel empowered? Sometimes, it was all to easy to get wrapped up in the politics of the industry, or complaining about the long hours, lack of sleep, and invasion of privacy, that she forgot why she made music. Lord, forgive me for the times I've been ungrateful, she thought to herself. Hitting the new message icon in the right-hand corner of the screen, Char began to type out a response.

            Dear Callie,

            Thank you so much for your kind words. I try my best to read every letter and check my email as much as I possibly can. You have no idea how much your words mean to me. Thank you for reminding me why I do what I do. I am so happy that you feel empowered by my songs. Where are you sitting for the Colombia show? Do you have VIP passes? If not I'm sure I can arrange a meet and greet. I would love to meet you!

            All my love,

            Charise Wilson

After proofreading her message, Char hit send and let the email travel through cyberspace. Squeezing her eyes shut, she hoped her words were sufficient. She never quite knew how to properly respond when people complimented her. With the promotion of her album, and her single climbing the charts she was receiving fan mail at an unprecedented rate. At times it could feel overwhelming, and she felt inadequate when she couldn't give every single fan a personal response. But overall, she was grateful that people she'd never met had been able to connect with her through her music. Sometimes, she felt like her fans knew her better than the people closest to her. Glancing at the clock on her desk, Char saw that it was nine-forty-five PM. Deciding to take a break from responding to fan mail for the night, Char closed her pink Apple clamshell laptop and rolled back from her desk.

Standing up, she walked over to her bed, and flopped down on the California king belly up, staring at the ceiling. Releasing a sigh, she felt the tension slowly roll off her shoulders. It was rare that she had a Sunday night off. She knew she should relax, but how? How could she shut her mind off? No, I need a distraction. I need to occupy my time. Reaching over to her nightstand, she pulled her Motorola off it's charger, and flipped it open. First, she dialed JC. After three rings, she got the message that his inbox was full. Next, she dialed her best friend, Amanda. The line was busy. She knew she couldn't call Nikki, because it was almost seven PM in L.A. and she'd be on set filming for her new TV show. Finally, she dialed her cousin Bridget-Leigh.

"Hey Cha-Cha!" Bridget-Leigh greeted, picking up after the first ring.

 

Char scrunched up her nose. Only family could get away with calling her that. "Hey Bee."

 

"Why so glum, chum?" Bridget-Leigh asked.

 

Char feigned a yawn. "I'm not. Just tired is all."

 

"I know you better than that."

 

"Fine." Char sighed. It was best to get it all out now, rather than making her cousin drag it out of her. "I'm nervous about the ‘Diary' episode," she admitted.

 

"What? I thought you said you had fun filming it, and that the MTV crew were nice and accommodating."

 

"They were," Char replied. "And it was a lot of fun to film. It's just that I don't know how they're gonna edit it, and I don't know if the fans will like it."

 

"I highly doubt that MTV would edit the subject of a ‘Dairy' episode in a bad light- unless you had a full-on diva fit or something."

 

"Oh God no! You know Mama would whoop my ass on camera!"

Bridget-Leigh chuckled. "Oh, Aunty Di def would've embarrassed you. ‘Charise Lynette, I brought you into this world and I will take you out!'"

 

Bridget Leigh's impression of her mother made Char laugh. It was spot on. "Remember that time I got in trouble in sixth grade, and you just happened to be home sick that day?"

 

"And just as luck would have it, Mama sent me to stay with Aunty Di while she and Daddy were at work."

 

Char smiled as the memory came rushing back. "I was so relieved when you answered the phone when Principal Reyes called home!"

 

Bridget-Leigh snickered. "Boy, did my Aunty Di impression come in handy that day."

 

"You sure did save me from gettin' my ass whooped!" Char dissolved into a fit of giggles, remembering the situation. Bridget-Leigh, who was seventeen at the time, was in her senior year of high school at Nashville School of the Arts in the Theater Arts conservatory. She'd been honing her impressionism skills all semester, and that phone call finally gave her a chance to flex what she'd been working so hard on.

 

"I miss those days," Bridget-Leigh admitted.

 

"Me too," Char sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Everything was so much simpler."

 

"So that's what's got you down." Bridget-Leigh said, identifying the source of her problem.

 

"Yeah. It's part of it anyway."

 

"What's the other part?"

 

Rolling onto her stomach, Char heaved a sigh, wondering where to begin. "Bee, I'm afraid to move out!"

 

"What?" Bridget-Leigh guffawed. "Not you! The one who's been so anxious to break free!"

 

"I know! But now that I'm actually in the process of buying a house, it's becoming more... real." Confessing her fear, Char sat up and looked around her room. For the past six years it had been her sanctuary. She hadn't seen much of it lately, but now that she was in the middle of her bed, she felt like a fifteen-year-old all over again. Her eyes shifted from the lilac walls, to the two plush pink papasan chairs in opposite corners of the room, to the silver bubble beaded curtains, the white baby grand piano, her computer desk, and her large vanity set up. When they first moved into the house after the MMC ended, Diahna was determined to turn Char's room into the ‘perfect princess room'. Being an only child had its perks, but also, it's setbacks. "Bee! I can't be alone! I've never been on my own before!" At almost twenty-one years old, she was embarrassed to admit it. Even to her own cousin.

 

"Relax, Cha-Cha, you'll be fine!" Bridget-Leigh assured her.

 

"How are you so sure?" Char asked skeptically.

 

"Because I made it just fine on my own when I moved out to LA after high school."

 

"Yeah, but you lived in a dorm and had a roommate." Char pointed out.

 

"I did, but it wasn't easy, living with someone my own age for the first time. And it was incredibly hard being miles away from Mama and Daddy the first time. I cried myself to sleep every night for the first week. But I got through it. And, when I came home for Thanksgiving break, I felt smothered and couldn't wait to get back to LA! You may be leaving the nest a little later, but you'll be just fine. You're perfectly capable and responsible. And it's not like you're moving across the country, you're just switching zip codes. You're still going with the place in Rose Isle, right?"

 

"Yes. The house in Rose Isle." Char replied, thinking of the four-thousand square foot, traditional home with it's five bedrooms and four and half baths. It had everything she could possibly want in a home, a state-of-the-art kitchen, her dream luxury bathroom, a pool, ceramic tile flooring, decent distancing from neighbors, miles of land, and a decent HOA price. It was the epitome of a dream home, and yet a small nagging part of her had reservations.

 

"Have you signed the conract yet?." Bridget-Leigh asked.

"No, not yet." Char answered, sheeplishly. 

"Charise! What are you waiting for?! The owners aren't gonna wait forever before they move on to the next interested buyer. Besides, I already have my room picked out!"

 

Char snorted. "Oh, really?!"

 

"Yes, really. I want the one on the second floor closest to guest bathroom. It's the second biggest one, after the master bedroom." Char giggled. "Wait, you're not getting cold feet, are you? Your dad can only hold the house for so long. I mean, it's not like you're buying your first property."

 

She was right. A year prior, Char's father, who also happened to be the biggest real estate agent in Orlando had suggested she buy a home as an investment property and rent it out. Taking her father's advice, she bought a two-bedroom condo in the Central Business District, which proved to be a smart investment, earning her passive income after a newlywed couple rented out the unit. However, it wasn't that she feared buying a house. She feared being alone. "It's not that Bee. What am I gonna do with all that space?"

 

"Live in it." Bridget-Leigh replied, in an obvious tone.

 

"But it's a lot of space for just me."

 

"It won't be just you. I already told you I have my room that I plan on staying in whenever I come visit. And I'm sure JC will be there when his schedule permits it. Besides, you'll be busy touring the world. After spending over two hundred nights a year sleeping in hotel rooms, tour buses, and airplanes, you'll want a place all your own to come home to."

 

But that was the thing; after spending more than half the year touring, she didn't want to come back to an empty home. She wanted to come back to her parents home. Where her dad would be grilling, or where her mom would be making her Jambalaya and homemade beignets. She wanted to come home to family. "You're right. I just..." Char began, forcing back tears. "I'm a big baby! Mama and Daddy completely infantilized me. I'll never survive on my own! I can't do it!" Tears began spilling from the corners of her eyes as she confessed something she'd only ever tell Bridget-Leigh. Bridget-Leigh's response? Full belly laughter. "What are you laughing at?"

 

"You really think you can't survive on your own? You can, you just need a little tough love and a shove from the nest. Gee, I thought I was the spoiled one!"

 

Char gasped. "Bridget-Leigh Fabre, you did not just call me spoiled!"

 

Bridget-Leigh snickered. "Oh, you're totally spoiled. You may not be a spoiled brat, but spoiled you are. You've never been on your own, you've never had to do anything for yourself, and anything you want, you get at the drop of a hat."

 

Ouch! Char winced, pursing her lips.

 

"Truth hurts, doesn't it princess?" Bridget-Leigh asked, as if reading Char's mind. "Listen, you'll be fine. You just need to toughen up a little. I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't love you."

 

"I know," Char sighed, digesting her cousin's words. "Thank you. Even if it's not what I wanna hear."

 

"What are sister-cousins for?"

 

Char smiled, a warm feeling flooding her body. "On that note, I'm gonna get off of here and let Daddy know that I'm gonna close on the house."

 

"Good! I want my walls painted orchid!"

 

"Ha! You're lucky you're even getting a room!" Char teased. "Bye. Love you!" She called, before hitting the red end button and flipping her phone shut. Throwing her phone onto her pillows, she rolled over and slid off her bed. Time to bite the bullet, she thought as she left her bedroom. It was now or never. If she didn't tell her dad she wanted the house now, then she knew she never would.

 

Walking down the staircase she pondered on Bridget-Leigh's words. Was she really that spoiled? She'd never thought of herself as such because she wasn't the type to demand things and throw temper tantrums when she didn't get them. She'd always had an even temperament, and never expected her parents to bend to her will. However, she had grown accustomed to asking for things, and then receiving them shortly after. Maybe she was spoiled.

 

When she reached the landing, Char searched the living room, kitchen, and den for her parents. "Mom, Dad?" She called. No answer. Turning into the corridor left of the living room, she checked her mom's office, which was empty. In a final attempt, she decided to check her dad's office. As she approached his door, she heard her parents voices. It sure didn't sound like they were gleefully chatting while sharing a bottle of wine. As she got closer to the door, Char lightened her footsteps, as not to make her presence known. She saw that the door was cracked, so she flattened her back against the wall to hide herself from view and listen in on the conversation.

 

"Diahna, I am tired," Lennie hissed.

 

Tired of what? Char wondered.

 

"I feel like I'm the only one constantly compromising here." He continued.

 

"You?" Diahna shot back. "You're not the only compromising! I've made plenty of sacrifices!"

 

"For Charise!"

 

Char's breath caught in her throat at the mention of her name.

 

"She gets cast on the Mickey Mouse Club, and we have to uproot our family. I have to rebuild my business from the ground up. She gets a record deal and you become her manager. The two of you are gone galivanting around the world, and I don't see my wife or my daughter!"

 

Like a baseball, crashing through a sheet of float glass, Char's heart shattered into a million pieces.

 

"Well excuse me for wanting to set my daughter up for success!"

 

"You think I don't want my daughter to succeed?" Lennie argued. "She's my child of course I want her to be successful and happy. I just think we've let this whole thing get away from us."

 

"This ‘whole thing'?" Diahna repeated. "What do you mean by this ‘whole thing'?"

 

"The whole music business thing." Lennie clarified. "It was fine when it was just a hobby. But now it's interfering with everything."

 

"Leonard, are you serious? Do you hear yourself? This is her career!"

 

"We should have never let her go on that show. She should be in college."

 

"Leonard, we can't stop her now. She has contractual obligations to fulfill. Not to mention, she's an adult now with her own money and she can do whatever the hell she wants!"

 

Lennie let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "You're right. Charise is an adult. She can pursue whatever career she chooses. But I think you should step down as her manager, and let Johnny take over."

 

Char's mouth dropped as her heart plunged to her stomach. She couldn't fathom not having her mother as her manager.

 

"So now you're telling me what to do with my own career?" Diahna accused.

 

Lennie groaned. "No Di, that's not it. I'm just... when was the last time we went on a date? Or spoke more than two sentences to each other without fighting? When have I gone more than one week at a time with you being home?"

 

Deciding she'd heard enough, Char quietly crept away from her father's office and made her way to the kitchen. Feeling completely dejected, each footstep she took felt slow and heavy. The front of her head began to throb, and before she knew it, she as crying again. Now, for a completely different reason. Bridget-Leigh was right. She was spoiled, and because of it, it was tearing apart her family.

 

Entering the kitchen, Char padded across the floor and made her way to the refrigerator, pulling out a container of leftover red beans and rice. She grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer, and bowl from the cabinet. After scooping out a sizeable portion and placing it in the ceramic bowl, she popped it into the microwave. While waiting on her food to get hot, she replayed her parent's argument in her head. She'd never considered the sacrifice that went into moving from Franklin, Tennessee to Orlando, Florida and her dad having to rebuild his business and establish his name in a whole new city. Her parents had always presented a united front in her presence, and she'd never noticed problems in their marriage. Or was she just to self-absorbed in her own problems to realize the toll that her career was taking on their relationship, and overall family structure? A wave of anxiety overwhelmed her as she came to the startling realization that she was not only spoiled, but completely and utterly selfish. Her family was going up in flames and it was all her fault.

 

The microwave went off, and Char removed the bowl. Grabbing the spoon off the counter, she stuck it into the bowl and walked over to the island, taking a seat on one of the cushioned barstools. Spooning the red beans and rice into her mouth, Char let the heat from the andouille sausage and cayenne pepper warm her body and offer a temporary warmth to her soul. Food may not be the solution to her problems, but it would do in a pinch. With every bite, she got a taste of home, and her anxiety was alleviated if only for a short time.

 

Hearing footsteps, Char looked up from her bowl and saw her parents walking toward the kitchen. "Hi honey!" Her mother said, smiling brightly. Knowing what she now knew, she could tell it was fake. She watched as her mother walked over to the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Bordeaux.

 

"Hey Mama, hey Daddy." Char said to her parents as they approached.

 

"What's the matter babygirl?" Lennie asked, before kissing the top of her head. "Everything okay?"

 

"Yeah, no I'm fine." She lied. Two can play this game. "I'm just tired," she explained, faking a yawn. "By the way, Daddy."

 

"Yes, babygirl?" Lennie asked as he walked toward the refrigerator.

 

"Umm..." She stammered. "I want to buy the house. For real."

 

Lennie raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are you sure?"

 

Diahna turned to look at her daughter and caught her eye. She flashed her a What's really wrong look? Char shook her head in response, mouthing Nothing. Diahna eyed her suspiciously.

 

"Yeah, it's time for me to move out." Char said, trying to convince herself.

 

"Well honey, I'm proud of you." Lennie replied. "We'll start the process tomorrow morning and I'll have the paperwork ready for you to sign."

 

 

"I'm so excited! I can't wait!" Char lied again, forcing a smile. Maybe hearing her parents' argument was the tough love she needed. Perhaps, it was the figurative push from the nest that Bridget-Leigh had been talking about. Whatever it was, it created a pit in her stomach and feeling if impending doom that would not go away. 

 

 

February 26, 2000

 

Char sat at the table across from her parents staring in envy at their decadent pancake breakfast. It was almost like they were taunting her. The smell of real maple syrup and cinnamon wafted up her nostrils, causing her mouth to water. Pancakes were her favorite breakfast food and there she was sitting in front of a plate of... Whatever it was she was looking at. "Mama?"

 

"Yes, sweetheart?" Diahna replied, all without looking up from her planner. 

 

Char watched as her mother scribbled furiously all over the planner, presumably more dates for Char to commit to. More appearances, interviews, photoshoots. Anything to keep her visible to the public. "What is this?" She asked, forking the egg mixture on her plate. 

 

"Asparagus and spinach hash." Diahna replied. 

 

Char grimaced, dropping her fork and letting it clang against the ceramic plate. "Eww! Mom! You know I hate asparagus, and cooked spinach!" Cooked spinach was gross and slimy. The thought of it made her gag. Maybe that was part of the diet. Spinach induced bulimia. 

 

"It's on your meal plan sweetheart." 

 

"What the hell even is this diet again?" Char asked. 

 

"The Zone." Diahna responded. "And watch your mouth." 

 

"Yes Ma'am." Char huffed. She felt totally infantilized. She was twenty-one, and her mother was telling her what she could and couldn't eat, what she could and could not say, telling her where she would be and when. Char gritted her teeth and continued to push the disgusting mixture around her plate. 

 

"Darling, stop playing with your food, and eat it."  Diahna commanded. 

 

"Can I at least go sprinkle some cheese on it?" 

 

"No!" Diahna snapped, causing Char to slightly jump in her seat. "I cooked it in olive oil! That's your fat for the meal. No cheese!" 

 

Lenny finally looked up from his newspaper and to his wife. "Honey, let her eat whatever she wants." 

 

Thank you, Daddy! Char thought. 

 

Diahna stared at Lenny, practically throwing daggers at her husband with her intense glare. "Don't you remember my Aunt Cecile? She died at four-hundred pounds. You know my family carries the fat gene, and Char takes more after me." 

 

Char looked from her mom to her dad and back again. Was that a subtle dig to her father? That she was more like her mom than her dad? Did she say that to hurt him? Was that a not-so-subtle dig at her? Was her mom calling her fat?

 

If it was in fact a dig, Lenny showed no indication that he was at all affected by his wife's words.

"It's clear that Charise is nowhere even near four-hundred pounds. Hell, I doubt she's a hundred pounds!" Lenny looked to his daughter, concern flashing across his face. "Are you a hundred pounds?" 

 

"Almost." Char whispered, looking down at her plate. According to the scale that morning she weighed 99.8. And her mother, standing over her shoulder, was sure to mark it down in her notebook. Char squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for what she was sure would come next. 

 

"Are you serious?" Lenny balked, slamming the newspaper down on the table. 

 

Was he asking Char, or her mother? 

 

"Why in the hell is she on a diet?" Lenny demanded. 

 

"Her album is coming out, she's preparing for a world tour, she needs to be in her best shape." Diahna said defensively. 

 

"Look at her!" Lenny pointed to his daughter. "I hardly think she's in any shape to do anything!" 

 

At that, Char pushed back in her chair and got up from the table grabbing her plate. Her parents were too embroiled in a power struggle to notice her absence. Char quickly and quietly exited the dining room. Walking into the kitchen was like a breath of frash air, and a weight off her shoulders. The tension between her parents grew more and more by the day. For the past few weeks, she'd grappled with the thought of her parents divorcing. At first, she wanted to push any thought of divorce out of her mind. They couldn't. They were Lenny and Diahna, high school sweethearts. They were the perfect family. She couldn't imagine a world in which her parents weren't together. However, it was now becoming clear to her that she was the only thing keeping them together at this point. She didn't want to be that family either. The one where the parents only stay together for the sake of their kid. She hated herself for it, but in the last few days, the thought kept crossing her mind that maybe they would be better off as a family if her parents at least tried a trial separation. She knew she should be fighting for her family, but what good was it when all they did was fight each other. Did they even love each other anymore? 

 

Char walked over to the sink and dumped the contents of her plate into the right side to flush it down the garbage disposal. She watched as the sink swallowed her vomit resembling hash. After sitting her plate and fork on the opposite side, Char searched the kitchen for actual food. She was starving, and her head was starting to hurt.  After rummaging the cabinets, she finally came across the forbidden fruit- strawberry Poptarts! Although she preferred them toasted, she was shaking at this point. Without hesitation, she ripped open the glossy blue wrapper and crammed half a Poptart into her mouth, the sugary artificially flavored filling coating her tongue. Char closed her eyes, and leaned back again

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hey, can you pass me the letter opener please?" Char asked her cousin Paris.

 

Paris saluted her as a playfully smile crept onto her face. "Sure thing, boss!" 

 

Char rolled her eyes. "Pear, you don't have to call me ‘boss'. Or ‘ma'am'. Especially not ma'am it's weird, I'm only two years older, and nowhere near ma'am territory!" Char watched as Paris walked across the carpeted floor of her bedroom to the chest of drawers against the far-left wall. From the top drawer, she produced the fancy engraved monogram letter opener gifted to her by her grandmother. 

 

"I'm just messin' with you!" Paris teased, walking back to the bed. She sat down beside Char and handed over the letter opener. "Besides, isn't it fun to be a boss lady?" 

 

Char inwardly cringed at the term. Boss lady. It didn't sit right with her. Yes, she employed Paris as well as many other family members, but it felt weird, having family on her payroll. It was her mother's idea, to which she dared not say no. She loved her family more than anything and would die for them in a heartbeat, but employing them? Their livelihood was completely dependent on her. If she went down, so did they, and that was a thought that constantly weighed on her and kept her up at night. Her chest was tightening that very moment just thinking of it. "Let's start opening these packages." She said, forcing the thoughts to the back of her mind. 

 

No sooner than she said the words, her Persian cat, Kitty Wells, hopped onto her bed, and sat directly in the center of all the mail. "Kitty, off." Char ordered, snapping her fingers. Kitty snuggled into the bed defiantly and meowed at her owner. Char picked up the white fluff ball, and gently dropped her onto the floor. Kitty bared her sharp teeth at Char and hissed before swishing over to the side of the room where her bed was. "Brat."  Char called after her, though she knew it was all her fault. She spoiled the damn cat, and now she was paying the price for it.

 

"Open the big one first!" Paris said, pointing to a medium sized box with hot pink wrapping paper. 

 

"Geeze cousin, you're not subtle at all!" Char giggled, reaching for the package. Once a month, Char took time out of her schedule to go through the fan mail she was sent. It was nearly impossible to open and read every letter, package, gift, and then respond back, but she tried her damndest. She was so beyond grateful for her fans undying support and loyalty. She'd be nowhere without them. Especially after the hell of being dropped from her former label. Gratitude couldn't possibly sum up everything she felt. 

 

"It's packaged so pretty, I just wanna know what's inside!"  

 

Char tore the wrapping paper away to reveal a cardboard box. Using her letter opener, she jabbed through the clear tape that sealed the top of the box together and sliced it open. Pulling back the flaps of cardboard, Char stuck her hand inside and felt around for a second before pulling out a stuffed teddy bear. "Aww..." Char held up the bear for Paris to see.  It's soft copper fur, glossy and shining beneath the light of the ceiling fan. 

 

"Oh! That's super cute!" Paris gushed. 

 

Char handed her the bear, while she continued to rummage through the box, which were filled snacks that she'd stated as her favorites in many interviews: Flamin' Hot Cheetos, peanut butter M&M's, sour Skittles, and Butterfinger BB's (all which of course she'd have her security inspect). At the very bottom of the box was an envelope. Char opened it and took out a handwritten letter. 

Dear Charise,

In an interview with YM, you said that one of your favorite gifts you've ever gotten was a teddy bear your first boyfriend won for you at a carnival. You said you were hurt when you lost it during your first tour overseas. Although it can't replace something with such sentimental value, I thought you might like this one as a sort of reminder. You can name him (or her) whatever you'd like. I hope you like it. Can't wait to see you on tour!

XOXO,

Roxy Sanchez

Char's heart expanded in her chest as she read the letter, thinking of JC, and the early days of their relationship. When things were easy. A nostalgic feeling, she often longed for. 

"Aww, it's supposed to be a replica of the bear Josh gave me when we first started dating!" Char
gushed, folding the letter and placing it aside. 

 

Paris's eyes widened. "You guys haven't gone public, have you?" 

 

"Oh God no!" Char shook her head. "We are so not ready for that yet! His fans would like, set me on fire! All I've said was that back in the day my first boyfriend won me a bear at a carnival, and it meant a lot to me. I never said who it was." 

 

Paris grimaced. "I don't think I could handle the wrath of an *Nsync fan, and I'm not even dating any of the guys!" 

 

"Well, it's a good thing no one knows yet." Char replied, moving onto a new letter. "It's no one's business." 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A week later, Char sat in a director's chair, getting primped and touched up by her hair stylist and makeup artists. Dancing in ninety-degree weather on the Santa Monica pier, her makeup sweated off almost instantly, and her bouncy curls fell limp. She and her backup dancers had been in and out of chairs all day with touch ups and outfit changes, because God forbid there'd be an actual visible sweat stain shown after dancing rigorously under the hot sun for hours. "Hey, Pear!" Char called. 

 

"Yes?" Paris replied, appearing at her side. 

 

"Can you get me my pills please?"  Char requested. She stared back at her tired reflection in the mirror as Hakeem sectioned a piece of her hair and twirled the long strands around the large barrel curling wand. 

 

"Sure thing." Paris said, before walking off. 

 

"Keemie, are you using that serum on my hair?" Char asked. 

 

Hakeem smacked his lips and placed his free hand on his hip. "Miss Girl! How long have I been doing your hair?" 

 

Char snickered. Hakeem's sassiness could always make her laugh, even if she was irritable. "Five years." 

 

"And you think I'mma just put straight heat on your hair like it's nothin'? Now you know I know what I'm doin'! You do the sangin' and dancin' and leave the hair to me, okay?" 

 

"Okay, okay!" Char relented. 

 

"Tryna micro-manage every damn thing." Hakeem teased. 

 

"Here ya go cousin." Paris said, handing Char a prescription bottle, along with an open can of diet coke that had a straw sticking out of it's opening. 

 

Char heaved a sigh of relief and took the bottle and soft drink from Paris. "Oh my God, thank you!" As she twisted the cap off the bottle, she avoided Hakeem's gaze in the mirror which burned just as hot as the curling wand. "What?" She asked as she popped two pills in her mouth, chasing them with Diet Coke. 

 

"Mmmm..." Hakeem hummed. 

 

Char knew what. "Keemie, I'm just a little on edge today, okay?" She didn't feel like explaining herself. She was a grown woman; she didn't need to explain or justify her actions to anyone. They were already behind schedule, and her mom had been breathing down her back all damn day. She just needed something to take the edge off. 

 

"I didn't say anything." Hakeem stated. 

 

Char looked to Paris for help, but she was busily typing away on her 2-way. "I know that look." She said, just above a whisper. 

 

"When did you bump up to two?" Hakeem whispered in her ear. 

 

"It's not that big of a deal! I just need it today!" Char gave him a pleading look through the mirror. One that begged, and simultaneously threatened his silence. 

 

"Do you need anything else?" Paris asked. 

 

"No. Thanks, I'm good." Char flashed an assuring smile. 

 

"Well in that case, I'm gonna go make sure everything is set up for the next scene." Paris replied. 

 

"Thank you," Char called, watching her little cousin walk off. "Please, don't lecture me Hakeem, okay?"

 

Hakeem raised his hands in surrender. "Just be careful, okay."

 

"You have nothing to worry about." Char said, staring at Hakeem through the mirror. "Promise." 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm fallin' for you, ooh

With all of my emotions,

(huh-huh-huh, oh yeah)

All the crazy things ya do,

Can't stop my heart's devotion,

(huh-huh-huh, oh yeah)

 

"Cut!" Director Jake Nava called over the megaphone. The music stopped, and Char and her backup dancers stood in their positions on the boardwalk. They'd been filming the same shot for the past two hours. "Okay people we're almost there, hang in there. All we have left is the beach scene." Char and the dancers groaned in relief. The filming crew, stylists, costumer designers, and assistants scattered amongst themselves, and Char and her dancers began to walk offset. 

 

"Great work guys!" Choreographer Laurieann Gibson called. 

 

Char was relieved that there finally seemed to be an end in sight. As the hours passed by, the sun had started to go down, creating the perfect backdrop for the beach scene. The Klonopins she'd taken earlier had kicked in, and she hoped they wrapped filming before they wore off, because she really didn't want to have to take another dose. 

 

"Hello, earth to Char!" 

 

"What?" Char shook her head startled by the hand in front of her. It was Shealeigh, one of her backup dancers. 

 

"Were you even listening to me?" Shealeigh asked, walking backwards.

 

Char scrunched her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

 

Shealeigh gave Char a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

 

"Girl, I am so tired." Char confessed. It wasn't a complete lie, she was. 

 

"Ugh! I feel that!" Shealeigh groaned, placing a hand on Char's shoulder. "Want Starbs?" 

 

"Ooh! I want Starbs!" Clarissa exclaimed, dashing up behind them. 

 

Char looked at Clarissa with envy as she bounced from foot to foot, her blonde curls swaying in the wind. How did she have so much energy? How was she so cheerful after they'd been working for fourteen hours? There was a reason they called her Bunny. "I'll have Kenny make a Starbucks run." 

 

"Perfect!" Clarissa said, interlocking arms with Char. "I'm craving a Caramel Frappuccino!" 

 

"Oh girl, you don't need one!" Jordan said joining them, linking his arm with Clarissa. "You have enough energy for all of us today." 

 

Clarissa broke their human chain link and performed a perfect aerial walkover, ending in a perfect vertical position with her hands in the air as if performing the perfect gymnastics dismount. 

 

"Show-off!" Caleb teased. 

 

"You'd have enough energy as me if you weren't at the club all night." Clarissa shot back, rejoining the group. 

 

"Oop! Did you just get called out?" Char asked, looking to Caleb. 

 

"Damn girl," Caleb snapped. "Not in front of the boss." 

 

Char rolled her eyes. There was that word again, boss. "Oh, shush! I might just join y'all one night." 

 

"Whoop, whoop!" Jordan cheered, snapping his fingers. "Okay Miss Mama!" 

 

Char gave him a wink. "Definitely count on it when the tour starts." 

 

"Sounds like a plan!" Shealeigh exclaimed, giving a shimmy. "I'm so excited for this tour!" 

 

"You're excited for different boys in different cities!" Clarissa called out. 

 

Shealeigh shrugged. "That's not a lie. Besides, who says girls can't have groupies?!" 

 

Jordan popped his hip and began swaying back and forth. "Return of the mack, return of the mack!" Caleb joined in, in perfect harmony. 

 

Char cracked up laughing. She loved her team so much and wouldn't trade them for the world. It was little moments like these, the teasing and inside jokes she lived for. By the time they approached the craft services table, they were laughing like a pack of hyenas. 

 

"Speaking of boyzzzzz." Shealeigh whispered in Char's ear. "There's yours." 

 

Char perked up, and followed Shealeigh's line of vision, which led her to seeing JC and Justin walking down the beach. Her heart nearly leapt at the sight of him. If it weren't for self-restraint (and total lack of energy) she'd make a Baywatch run toward him. "What are they doing here?" 

 

"To see you obviously." Shealeigh nudged her. 

 

"They damn sure ain't here to see my black ass!"  Caleb laughed. 

 

"Shut up!" Char snickered. The closer he got, the faster her heart raced. It was an unexpected, but definitely not un-welcomed surprise. 

 

"Hey Baby!" JC opened his arms wide as he approached the group. 

 

Char walked into them and snuggled herself into his chest. The scent of his cologne smelled like home. She needed this. "Hey Baby, I didn't know you'd be coming." Char tilted her head up for a kiss, to which JC obliged. 

 

Justin cleared his throat. "Hi to you too, Charise." 

 

Char unraveled herself from JC's arm, and punched Justin in the shoulder. "You little attention seeking punk!" 

 

"Damn Charise, that's how you greet a friend?" Justin asked, rubbing his shoulder. "I see how it is." 

 

Char rolled her eyes. "Keep calling me Charise." She dared. 

 

Justin glared at her, and then squinted. "Cha-rise."

 

"Dammit Randall! You've been a thorn in my side since 1993." 

 

"And you've loved every minute of it!" Justin teased blowing her a kiss, before heading to the craft services table. 

 

"Oh! So, he only came for the food!" Char exclaimed. "That hoodrat!" 

 

"Careful Babe," JC warned. "Don't give him too much street cred, it'll go to his head." Justin turned around with a glazed doughnut hanging out of his mouth and flipped JC the bird to which JC returned. 

 

"Joshtin is real." Char murmured. 

 

"Huh?" JC looked down at Char, his eyebrows furrowed. 

 

"What?" Char asked, realizing she'd been thinking aloud. Okay, fine. Maybe she was guilty of browsing all the Angelfire Geocities, and Tripod fansites. It was tempting on late nights when she couldn't sleep. She'd been very amused to discover that fans had ‘shipped' JC and Justin together and called them a bromance giving them the names Joshtin and JuC. It was almost like watching Corey Matthews and Shawn Hunter come to life. Which... made her Topanga, because JC was Corey. Or were they Shawn and Angela because they were interracial?

 

"What did you say?" JC asked. 

 

Char snickered. "Nothing, it was nothing! I'm so happy you're here!" Digging her feet into the sand, Char stood on her tippy toes to kiss him. His lips on hers offset tiny fireworks within her. After breaking the kiss, she hugged him close. 

 

"Rough day?" JC asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

 

"Yes." Char pouted. 

 

A teasing smile crept onto JC's face. "Bet I know what to do to make it better." 

 

Char bit down on her bottom lip and traced her finger down his chest. "I can think of a few things." 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

One Week Later

 

Back in Orlando, preparations were underway for the release of No Strings Attached. With the success of Bye, Bye, Bye the album was projected to go number one, however, the fear of the unknown lingered in the air. For the guys of *Nsync, the future of their careers hinged on the success of this album. To say that everyone was a huge bundle of nerves, was an understatement. 

 

"What if people don't go out and buy it?" JC wondered aloud. 

 

Char, laying on JC's chest, looked up at him. "Oh my God, are you kidding me? Of course, people are gonna buy it! Teen girls everywhere will probably be knocking each other over in every record store." 

 

It was the calm before the storm, and the guys were given a weekend off before heading to New York to promote the album, as well as Char's last few days off before she embarked on a promotional tour of her own in Los Angeles. With their last bit of alone time together, Char and JC decided to spend it at his parents' house, relaxing as much as they possibly could. 

 

"Do you really think so?" JC asked.

 

Char sat up on the sectional and turned to look at JC. "I know so. I wouldn't say it, if I didn't think it were true." 

 

"But how do you know?" JC asked skeptically. 

 

But this is where the action is and

 

I have to be where the action is.

 

Look, when your old lady wanted those

 

alligator shoes, didn't I come through

 

for you? Ain't she stepping in style

 

Now?

 

Char picked up the remote from the coffee table, and hit the pause button, the screen froze on Eddie Murphy's face. "Josh, look at me." JC did as he was told. "Bye, Bye, Bye is smashing records right now, and y'all are number one on TRL like every day. If you can keep Britney and Christina out of the number one spot for so long, that clearly indicates something. You can't turn on a radio station without hearing your song. It's even on the Urban stations and in the clubs! You have a loyal fanbase, and if I know anything, I know for sure they'll be knocking the doors down at every record store across the nation, hell, across the world come March 21st. Mark my words." 

 

JC sat up and took a moment to really comprehend what Char was telling him. All week he'd had knots in his stomach, and his sleep pattern had been off. He'd written and produced four songs for the album, one of which was the title track. His artistic integrity was on the line. It was reasonable to believe the album would do well, but after everything the band had been through in the past year and a half, he didn't have the luxury of allowing himself to get comfortable. 

 

"I believe in you guys." Char said, massaging JC's shoulder. "I just wish you believed in yourself." Having Char by his side meant the world to JC. He couldn't have gone through everything without her. She was his rock. His safe place. Between their careers, their relationship was the last thing they had that was truly theirs. Being with her was his safe place. 

 

"Uhhh... guys." Heather called, walking into the living room, her laptop in hand. 

 

"What's up?" JC asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"I... um..." Heather stammered as she sat down on the adjacent loveseat. "Okay." She breathed, and squeezed her eyes shut. 

 

"Heather what's going on?" JC asked his sister, giving her a concerned look. 

 

"I don't know how to tell you guys this, but I don't want you guys to be blindsided either." 

 

JC swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of anxiety overwhelmed him. "What is it." 

 

Heather opened her clamshell, neon blue MAC, and logged in before turning it around, and handing it to JC. 

 

Char scooted in closer to JC, so she could see the computer screen. Her jaw dropped, and she let out an audible gasp. Staring at the screen, she saw paparazzi photos of JC and herself on the beach hugging and kissing. It was the day of her video shoot when JC and Justin had visited the set. It felt like needles were pricking her skin as realization dawned on her; they'd been outed. The pictures weren't even the worst part, the comments on the message board where the pictures were posted were far worse.

 

What? Eww! 

 

I know! I can't believe he's dating her!

 

Filthy whore!

 

She's all over him. It's desperate and gross. 

 

I'm disgusted. 

 

What does he see in her?

 

How could JC date a black girl?

 

And there it was. Everything that all the other anonymous users had been implying summed up in one comment. She was ‘the black girl', and it stung more than she ever thought it would. 

 

JC, who had seemed to be reading at a slower rate, slammed the laptop shut when got to the last line, realizing that Char had read it. 

 

"You guys, I am so sorry!" Heather apologized. She'd read the comments. And unbeknownst to JC and Char, the pictures were on other sites, where the comments were ten times as harsh and hateful. 

 

JC shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you for giving us a head's up." He handed the laptop back to his sister, indicating that he and Char needed a moment. 

 

"If there's anything I can do, let me know." Heather said, standing up.

 

"Thanks Heather." JC replied, as Heather left the room. 

 

Char sat stunned with her back against the couch. She blinked several times, her eyes stinging. She could take a lot. People had said some really cruel things over the years, and she'd taken them in stride. But racism? She didn't even know how to process it. 

 

"Hey." JC said gently. "C'mere." He leaned back against the couch and pulled Char into his chest. 

 

"I can't believe what I just read." Char whispered. 

 

"Ignore it." JC said. "It's just some ignorant teenager from Hicktown, USA." 

 

"Except if the internet knows, then that means the whole world knows, Josh!" 

 

"Let's just take everything one step at a time." JC suggested. "We should let Johnny know if he doesn't already." 

 

"Oh my God!" Char cried. "What's Johnny gonna say? My mom?" 

 

"Hey, hey." JC said, soothing her. "Everything's gonna be fine. Some celebrity will leak a sex tape, and this will all blow over by next week." 

 

"But what if it doesn't?" Char asked frantically.

 

JC took a deep breath. "Well, we're out now. If the world knows we're together, then we embrace it. Stand in it. We'll face whatever hate comes our way together.  You and me against the world."

 February 26, 2000

 

Char sat at the table across from her parents staring in envy at their decadent pancake breakfast. It was almost like they were taunting her. The smell of real maple syrup and cinnamon wafted up her nostrils, causing her mouth to water. Pancakes were her favorite breakfast food and there she was sitting in front of a plate of... Whatever it was she was looking at. "Mama?"

 

"Yes, sweetheart?" Diahna replied, all without looking up from her planner. 

 

Char watched as her mother scribbled furiously all over the planner, presumably more dates for Char to commit to. More appearances, interviews, photoshoots. Anything to keep her visible to the public. "What is this?" She asked, forking the egg mixture on her plate. 

 

"Asparagus and spinach hash." Diahna replied. 

 

Char grimaced, dropping her fork and letting it clang against the ceramic plate. "Eww! Mom! You know I hate asparagus, and cooked spinach!" Cooked spinach was gross and slimy. The thought of it made her gag. Maybe that was part of the diet. Spinach induced bulimia. 

 

"It's on your meal plan sweetheart." 

 

"What the hell even is this diet again?" Char asked. 

 

"The Zone." Diahna responded. "And watch your mouth." 

 

"Yes Ma'am." Char huffed. She felt totally infantilized. She was twenty-one, and her mother was telling her what she could and couldn't eat, what she could and could not say, telling her where she would be and when. Char gritted her teeth and continued to push the disgusting mixture around her plate. 

 

"Darling, stop playing with your food, and eat it."  Diahna commanded. 

 

"Can I at least go sprinkle some cheese on it?" 

 

"No!" Diahna snapped, causing Char to slightly jump in her seat. "I cooked it in olive oil! That's your fat for the meal. No cheese!" 

 

Lenny finally looked up from his newspaper and to his wife. "Honey, let her eat whatever she wants." 

 

Thank you, Daddy! Char thought. 

 

Diahna stared at Lenny, practically throwing daggers at her husband with her intense glare. "Don't you remember my Aunt Cecile? She died at four-hundred pounds. You know my family carries the fat gene, and Char takes more after me." 

 

Char looked from her mom to her dad and back again. Was that a subtle dig to her father? That she was more like her mom than her dad? Did she say that to hurt him? Was that a not-so-subtle dig at her? Was her mom calling her fat?

 

If it was in fact a dig, Lenny showed no indication that he was at all affected by his wife's words.

"It's clear that Charise is nowhere even near four-hundred pounds. Hell, I doubt she's a hundred pounds!" Lenny looked to his daughter, concern flashing across his face. "Are you a hundred pounds?" 

 

"Almost." Char whispered, looking down at her plate. According to the scale that morning she weighed 99.8. And her mother, standing over her shoulder, was sure to mark it down in her notebook. Char squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for what she was sure would come next. 

 

"Are you serious?" Lenny balked, slamming the newspaper down on the table. 

 

Was he asking Char, or her mother? 

 

"Why in the hell is she on a diet?" Lenny demanded. 

 

"Her album is coming out, she's preparing for a world tour, she needs to be in her best shape." Diahna said defensively. 

 

"Look at her!" Lenny pointed to his daughter. "I hardly think she's in any shape to do anything!" 

 

At that, Char pushed back in her chair and got up from the table grabbing her plate. Her parents were too embroiled in a power struggle to notice her absence. Char quickly and quietly exited the dining room. Walking into the kitchen was like a breath of frash air, and a weight off her shoulders. The tension between her parents grew more and more by the day. For the past few weeks, she'd grappled with the thought of her parents divorcing. At first, she wanted to push any thought of divorce out of her mind. They couldn't. They were Lenny and Diahna, high school sweethearts. They were the perfect family. She couldn't imagine a world in which her parents weren't together. However, it was now becoming clear to her that she was the only thing keeping them together at this point. She didn't want to be that family either. The one where the parents only stay together for the sake of their kid. She hated herself for it, but in the last few days, the thought kept crossing her mind that maybe they would be better off as a family if her parents at least tried a trial separation. She knew she should be fighting for her family, but what good was it when all they did was fight each other. Did they even love each other anymore? 

 

Char walked over to the sink and dumped the contents of her plate into the right side to flush it down the garbage disposal. She watched as the sink swallowed her vomit resembling hash. After sitting her plate and fork on the opposite side, Char searched the kitchen for actual food. She was starving, and her head was starting to hurt.  After rummaging the cabinets, she finally came across the forbidden fruit- strawberry Poptarts! Although she preferred them toasted, she was shaking at this point. Without hesitation, she ripped open the glossy blue wrapper and crammed half a Poptart into her mouth, the sugary artificially flavored filling coating her tongue. Char closed her eyes, and leaned back again

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hey, can you pass me the letter opener please?" Char asked her cousin Paris.

 

Paris saluted her as a playfully smile crept onto her face. "Sure thing, boss!" 

 

Char rolled her eyes. "Pear, you don't have to call me ‘boss'. Or ‘ma'am'. Especially not ma'am it's weird, I'm only two years older, and nowhere near ma'am territory!" Char watched as Paris walked across the carpeted floor of her bedroom to the chest of drawers against the far-left wall. From the top drawer, she produced the fancy engraved monogram letter opener gifted to her by her grandmother. 

 

"I'm just messin' with you!" Paris teased, walking back to the bed. She sat down beside Char and handed over the letter opener. "Besides, isn't it fun to be a boss lady?" 

 

Char inwardly cringed at the term. Boss lady. It didn't sit right with her. Yes, she employed Paris as well as many other family members, but it felt weird, having family on her payroll. It was her mother's idea, to which she dared not say no. She loved her family more than anything and would die for them in a heartbeat, but employing them? Their livelihood was completely dependent on her. If she went down, so did they, and that was a thought that constantly weighed on her and kept her up at night. Her chest was tightening that very moment just thinking of it. "Let's start opening these packages." She said, forcing the thoughts to the back of her mind. 

 

No sooner than she said the words, her Persian cat, Kitty Wells, hopped onto her bed, and sat directly in the center of all the mail. "Kitty, off." Char ordered, snapping her fingers. Kitty snuggled into the bed defiantly and meowed at her owner. Char picked up the white fluff ball, and gently dropped her onto the floor. Kitty bared her sharp teeth at Char and hissed before swishing over to the side of the room where her bed was. "Brat."  Char called after her, though she knew it was all her fault. She spoiled the damn cat, and now she was paying the price for it.

 

"Open the big one first!" Paris said, pointing to a medium sized box with hot pink wrapping paper. 

 

"Geeze cousin, you're not subtle at all!" Char giggled, reaching for the package. Once a month, Char took time out of her schedule to go through the fan mail she was sent. It was nearly impossible to open and read every letter, package, gift, and then respond back, but she tried her damndest. She was so beyond grateful for her fans undying support and loyalty. She'd be nowhere without them. Especially after the hell of being dropped from her former label. Gratitude couldn't possibly sum up everything she felt. 

 

"It's packaged so pretty, I just wanna know what's inside!"  

 

Char tore the wrapping paper away to reveal a cardboard box. Using her letter opener, she jabbed through the clear tape that sealed the top of the box together and sliced it open. Pulling back the flaps of cardboard, Char stuck her hand inside and felt around for a second before pulling out a stuffed teddy bear. "Aww..." Char held up the bear for Paris to see.  It's soft copper fur, glossy and shining beneath the light of the ceiling fan. 

 

"Oh! That's super cute!" Paris gushed. 

 

Char handed her the bear, while she continued to rummage through the box, which were filled snacks that she'd stated as her favorites in many interviews: Flamin' Hot Cheetos, peanut butter M&M's, sour Skittles, and Butterfinger BB's (all which of course she'd have her security inspect). At the very bottom of the box was an envelope. Char opened it and took out a handwritten letter. 

Dear Charise,

In an interview with YM, you said that one of your favorite gifts you've ever gotten was a teddy bear your first boyfriend won for you at a carnival. You said you were hurt when you lost it during your first tour overseas. Although it can't replace something with such sentimental value, I thought you might like this one as a sort of reminder. You can name him (or her) whatever you'd like. I hope you like it. Can't wait to see you on tour!

XOXO,

Roxy Sanchez

Char's heart expanded in her chest as she read the letter, thinking of JC, and the early days of their relationship. When things were easy. A nostalgic feeling, she often longed for. 

"Aww, it's supposed to be a replica of the bear Josh gave me when we first started dating!" Char
gushed, folding the letter and placing it aside. 

 

Paris's eyes widened. "You guys haven't gone public, have you?" 

 

"Oh God no!" Char shook her head. "We are so not ready for that yet! His fans would like, set me on fire! All I've said was that back in the day my first boyfriend won me a bear at a carnival, and it meant a lot to me. I never said who it was." 

 

Paris grimaced. "I don't think I could handle the wrath of an *Nsync fan, and I'm not even dating any of the guys!" 

 

"Well, it's a good thing no one knows yet." Char replied, moving onto a new letter. "It's no one's business." 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

A week later, Char sat in a director's chair, getting primped and touched up by her hair stylist and makeup artists. Dancing in ninety-degree weather on the Santa Monica pier, her makeup sweated off almost instantly, and her bouncy curls fell limp. She and her backup dancers had been in and out of chairs all day with touch ups and outfit changes, because God forbid there'd be an actual visible sweat stain shown after dancing rigorously under the hot sun for hours. "Hey, Pear!" Char called. 

 

"Yes?" Paris replied, appearing at her side. 

 

"Can you get me my pills please?"  Char requested. She stared back at her tired reflection in the mirror as Hakeem sectioned a piece of her hair and twirled the long strands around the large barrel curling wand. 

 

"Sure thing." Paris said, before walking off. 

 

"Keemie, are you using that serum on my hair?" Char asked. 

 

Hakeem smacked his lips and placed his free hand on his hip. "Miss Girl! How long have I been doing your hair?" 

 

Char snickered. Hakeem's sassiness could always make her laugh, even if she was irritable. "Five years." 

 

"And you think I'mma just put straight heat on your hair like it's nothin'? Now you know I know what I'm doin'! You do the sangin' and dancin' and leave the hair to me, okay?" 

 

"Okay, okay!" Char relented. 

 

"Tryna micro-manage every damn thing." Hakeem teased. 

 

"Here ya go cousin." Paris said, handing Char a prescription bottle, along with an open can of diet coke that had a straw sticking out of it's opening. 

 

Char heaved a sigh of relief and took the bottle and soft drink from Paris. "Oh my God, thank you!" As she twisted the cap off the bottle, she avoided Hakeem's gaze in the mirror which burned just as hot as the curling wand. "What?" She asked as she popped two pills in her mouth, chasing them with Diet Coke. 

 

"Mmmm..." Hakeem hummed. 

 

Char knew what. "Keemie, I'm just a little on edge today, okay?" She didn't feel like explaining herself. She was a grown woman; she didn't need to explain or justify her actions to anyone. They were already behind schedule, and her mom had been breathing down her back all damn day. She just needed something to take the edge off. 

 

"I didn't say anything." Hakeem stated. 

 

Char looked to Paris for help, but she was busily typing away on her 2-way. "I know that look." She said, just above a whisper. 

 

"When did you bump up to two?" Hakeem whispered in her ear. 

 

"It's not that big of a deal! I just need it today!" Char gave him a pleading look through the mirror. One that begged, and simultaneously threatened his silence. 

 

"Do you need anything else?" Paris asked. 

 

"No. Thanks, I'm good." Char flashed an assuring smile. 

 

"Well in that case, I'm gonna go make sure everything is set up for the next scene." Paris replied. 

 

"Thank you," Char called, watching her little cousin walk off. "Please, don't lecture me Hakeem, okay?"

 

Hakeem raised his hands in surrender. "Just be careful, okay."

 

"You have nothing to worry about." Char said, staring at Hakeem through the mirror. "Promise." 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm fallin' for you, ooh

With all of my emotions,

(huh-huh-huh, oh yeah)

All the crazy things ya do,

Can't stop my heart's devotion,

(huh-huh-huh, oh yeah)

 

"Cut!" Director Jake Nava called over the megaphone. The music stopped, and Char and her backup dancers stood in their positions on the boardwalk. They'd been filming the same shot for the past two hours. "Okay people we're almost there, hang in there. All we have left is the beach scene." Char and the dancers groaned in relief. The filming crew, stylists, costumer designers, and assistants scattered amongst themselves, and Char and her dancers began to walk offset. 

 

"Great work guys!" Choreographer Laurieann Gibson called. 

 

Char was relieved that there finally seemed to be an end in sight. As the hours passed by, the sun had started to go down, creating the perfect backdrop for the beach scene. The Klonopins she'd taken earlier had kicked in, and she hoped they wrapped filming before they wore off, because she really didn't want to have to take another dose. 

 

"Hello, earth to Char!" 

 

"What?" Char shook her head startled by the hand in front of her. It was Shealeigh, one of her backup dancers. 

 

"Were you even listening to me?" Shealeigh asked, walking backwards.

 

Char scrunched her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

 

Shealeigh gave Char a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

 

"Girl, I am so tired." Char confessed. It wasn't a complete lie, she was. 

 

"Ugh! I feel that!" Shealeigh groaned, placing a hand on Char's shoulder. "Want Starbs?" 

 

"Ooh! I want Starbs!" Clarissa exclaimed, dashing up behind them. 

 

Char looked at Clarissa with envy as she bounced from foot to foot, her blonde curls swaying in the wind. How did she have so much energy? How was she so cheerful after they'd been working for fourteen hours? There was a reason they called her Bunny. "I'll have Kenny make a Starbucks run." 

 

"Perfect!" Clarissa said, interlocking arms with Char. "I'm craving a Caramel Frappuccino!" 

 

"Oh girl, you don't need one!" Jordan said joining them, linking his arm with Clarissa. "You have enough energy for all of us today." 

 

Clarissa broke their human chain link and performed a perfect aerial walkover, ending in a perfect vertical position with her hands in the air as if performing the perfect gymnastics dismount. 

 

"Show-off!" Caleb teased. 

 

"You'd have enough energy as me if you weren't at the club all night." Clarissa shot back, rejoining the group. 

 

"Oop! Did you just get called out?" Char asked, looking to Caleb. 

 

"Damn girl," Caleb snapped. "Not in front of the boss." 

 

Char rolled her eyes. There was that word again, boss. "Oh, shush! I might just join y'all one night." 

 

"Whoop, whoop!" Jordan cheered, snapping his fingers. "Okay Miss Mama!" 

 

Char gave him a wink. "Definitely count on it when the tour starts." 

 

"Sounds like a plan!" Shealeigh exclaimed, giving a shimmy. "I'm so excited for this tour!" 

 

"You're excited for different boys in different cities!" Clarissa called out. 

 

Shealeigh shrugged. "That's not a lie. Besides, who says girls can't have groupies?!" 

 

Jordan popped his hip and began swaying back and forth. "Return of the mack, return of the mack!" Caleb joined in, in perfect harmony. 

 

Char cracked up laughing. She loved her team so much and wouldn't trade them for the world. It was little moments like these, the teasing and inside jokes she lived for. By the time they approached the craft services table, they were laughing like a pack of hyenas. 

 

"Speaking of boyzzzzz." Shealeigh whispered in Char's ear. "There's yours." 

 

Char perked up, and followed Shealeigh's line of vision, which led her to seeing JC and Justin walking down the beach. Her heart nearly leapt at the sight of him. If it weren't for self-restraint (and total lack of energy) she'd make a Baywatch run toward him. "What are they doing here?" 

 

"To see you obviously." Shealeigh nudged her. 

 

"They damn sure ain't here to see my black ass!"  Caleb laughed. 

 

"Shut up!" Char snickered. The closer he got, the faster her heart raced. It was an unexpected, but definitely not un-welcomed surprise. 

 

"Hey Baby!" JC opened his arms wide as he approached the group. 

 

Char walked into them and snuggled herself into his chest. The scent of his cologne smelled like home. She needed this. "Hey Baby, I didn't know you'd be coming." Char tilted her head up for a kiss, to which JC obliged. 

 

Justin cleared his throat. "Hi to you too, Charise." 

 

Char unraveled herself from JC's arm, and punched Justin in the shoulder. "You little attention seeking punk!" 

 

"Damn Charise, that's how you greet a friend?" Justin asked, rubbing his shoulder. "I see how it is." 

 

Char rolled her eyes. "Keep calling me Charise." She dared. 

 

Justin glared at her, and then squinted. "Cha-rise."

 

"Dammit Randall! You've been a thorn in my side since 1993." 

 

"And you've loved every minute of it!" Justin teased blowing her a kiss, before heading to the craft services table. 

 

"Oh! So, he only came for the food!" Char exclaimed. "That hoodrat!" 

 

"Careful Babe," JC warned. "Don't give him too much street cred, it'll go to his head." Justin turned around with a glazed doughnut hanging out of his mouth and flipped JC the bird to which JC returned. 

 

"Joshtin is real." Char murmured. 

 

"Huh?" JC looked down at Char, his eyebrows furrowed. 

 

"What?" Char asked, realizing she'd been thinking aloud. Okay, fine. Maybe she was guilty of browsing all the Angelfire Geocities, and Tripod fansites. It was tempting on late nights when she couldn't sleep. She'd been very amused to discover that fans had ‘shipped' JC and Justin together and called them a bromance giving them the names Joshtin and JuC. It was almost like watching Corey Matthews and Shawn Hunter come to life. Which... made her Topanga, because JC was Corey. Or were they Shawn and Angela because they were interracial?

 

"What did you say?" JC asked. 

 

Char snickered. "Nothing, it was nothing! I'm so happy you're here!" Digging her feet into the sand, Char stood on her tippy toes to kiss him. His lips on hers offset tiny fireworks within her. After breaking the kiss, she hugged him close. 

 

"Rough day?" JC asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

 

"Yes." Char pouted. 

 

A teasing smile crept onto JC's face. "Bet I know what to do to make it better." 

 

Char bit down on her bottom lip and traced her finger down his chest. "I can think of a few things." 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

One Week Later

 

Back in Orlando, preparations were underway for the release of No Strings Attached. With the success of Bye, Bye, Bye the album was projected to go number one, however, the fear of the unknown lingered in the air. For the guys of *Nsync, the future of their careers hinged on the success of this album. To say that everyone was a huge bundle of nerves, was an understatement. 

 

"What if people don't go out and buy it?" JC wondered aloud. 

 

Char, laying on JC's chest, looked up at him. "Oh my God, are you kidding me? Of course, people are gonna buy it! Teen girls everywhere will probably be knocking each other over in every record store." 

 

It was the calm before the storm, and the guys were given a weekend off before heading to New York to promote the album, as well as Char's last few days off before she embarked on a promotional tour of her own in Los Angeles. With their last bit of alone time together, Char and JC decided to spend it at his parents' house, relaxing as much as they possibly could. 

 

"Do you really think so?" JC asked.

 

Char sat up on the sectional and turned to look at JC. "I know so. I wouldn't say it, if I didn't think it were true." 

 

"But how do you know?" JC asked skeptically. 

 

But this is where the action is and

 

I have to be where the action is.

 

Look, when your old lady wanted those

 

alligator shoes, didn't I come through

 

for you? Ain't she stepping in style

 

Now?

 

Char picked up the remote from the coffee table, and hit the pause button, the screen froze on Eddie Murphy's face. "Josh, look at me." JC did as he was told. "Bye, Bye, Bye is smashing records right now, and y'all are number one on TRL like every day. If you can keep Britney and Christina out of the number one spot for so long, that clearly indicates something. You can't turn on a radio station without hearing your song. It's even on the Urban stations and in the clubs! You have a loyal fanbase, and if I know anything, I know for sure they'll be knocking the doors down at every record store across the nation, hell, across the world come March 21st. Mark my words." 

 

JC sat up and took a moment to really comprehend what Char was telling him. All week he'd had knots in his stomach, and his sleep pattern had been off. He'd written and produced four songs for the album, one of which was the title track. His artistic integrity was on the line. It was reasonable to believe the album would do well, but after everything the band had been through in the past year and a half, he didn't have the luxury of allowing himself to get comfortable. 

 

"I believe in you guys." Char said, massaging JC's shoulder. "I just wish you believed in yourself." Having Char by his side meant the world to JC. He couldn't have gone through everything without her. She was his rock. His safe place. Between their careers, their relationship was the last thing they had that was truly theirs. Being with her was his safe place. 

 

"Uhhh... guys." Heather called, walking into the living room, her laptop in hand. 

 

"What's up?" JC asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"I... um..." Heather stammered as she sat down on the adjacent loveseat. "Okay." She breathed, and squeezed her eyes shut. 

 

"Heather what's going on?" JC asked his sister, giving her a concerned look. 

 

"I don't know how to tell you guys this, but I don't want you guys to be blindsided either." 

 

JC swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of anxiety overwhelmed him. "What is it." 

 

Heather opened her clamshell, neon blue MAC, and logged in before turning it around, and handing it to JC. 

 

Char scooted in closer to JC, so she could see the computer screen. Her jaw dropped, and she let out an audible gasp. Staring at the screen, she saw paparazzi photos of JC and herself on the beach hugging and kissing. It was the day of her video shoot when JC and Justin had visited the set. It felt like needles were pricking her skin as realization dawned on her; they'd been outed. The pictures weren't even the worst part, the comments on the message board where the pictures were posted were far worse.

 

What? Eww! 

 

I know! I can't believe he's dating her!

 

Filthy whore!

 

She's all over him. It's desperate and gross. 

 

I'm disgusted. 

 

What does he see in her?

 

How could JC date a black girl?

 

And there it was. Everything that all the other anonymous users had been implying summed up in one comment. She was ‘the black girl', and it stung more than she ever thought it would. 

 

JC, who had seemed to be reading at a slower rate, slammed the laptop shut when got to the last line, realizing that Char had read it. 

 

"You guys, I am so sorry!" Heather apologized. She'd read the comments. And unbeknownst to JC and Char, the pictures were on other sites, where the comments were ten times as harsh and hateful. 

 

JC shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you for giving us a head's up." He handed the laptop back to his sister, indicating that he and Char needed a moment. 

 

"If there's anything I can do, let me know." Heather said, standing up.

 

"Thanks Heather." JC replied, as Heather left the room. 

 

Char sat stunned with her back against the couch. She blinked several times, her eyes stinging. She could take a lot. People had said some really cruel things over the years, and she'd taken them in stride. But racism? She didn't even know how to process it. 

 

"Hey." JC said gently. "C'mere." He leaned back against the couch and pulled Char into his chest. 

 

"I can't believe what I just read." Char whispered. 

 

"Ignore it." JC said. "It's just some ignorant teenager from Hicktown, USA." 

 

"Except if the internet knows, then that means the whole world knows, Josh!" 

 

"Let's just take everything one step at a time." JC suggested. "We should let Johnny know if he doesn't already." 

 

"Oh my God!" Char cried. "What's Johnny gonna say? My mom?" 

 

"Hey, hey." JC said, soothing her. "Everything's gonna be fine. Some celebrity will leak a sex tape, and this will all blow over by next week." 

 

"But what if it doesn't?" Char asked frantically.

 

JC took a deep breath. "Well, we're out now. If the world knows we're together, then we embrace it. Stand in it. We'll face whatever hate comes our way together.  You and me against the world."

 

 

 

March 2000

In the intimate confines of the vocal booth, standing under the soft glow of the dimmed studio lights, Char stood in front of the microphone, with headphones securely in place. The track started, and music filled her ears, and she used the four-measure intro to prepare for her part. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to be enveloped by the luscious chords and dream-like melody. One measure before, she took a deep diaphragmatic breath in preparation for her starting line. Right on cue, her voice erupted from her lips, bleeding seamlessly with the music.

I never knew 'til I looked in your eyes
I was incomplete 'til the day you walked into my life,
And I never knew that my heart could feel
So precious and pure, our love is so real

As she sang the final notes of her verse, the track abruptly came to a halt. A brief moment of silence filled the space, before she spoke into the microphone. "How was that?"

"That was great babe," JC replied, his voice resonating through the intercom, filling her ears, warm and reassuring. "Come out and take a listen."

Eager to hear her take, and what her voice sounded like with his, Char removed her headphones, and placed them on the mic stand before exiting the vocal booth. Stepping through the door, and entering on the other side, into the control room, she was met by a smiling JC, along with their co-producer, Rodney Jerkins.

"Yo, that take was it!" Rodney said enthusiastically, causing Char to blush. "I don't think she need to do that again."

"Thanks," Char smiled bashfully, taking the empty seat between JC and Rodney. Recording was nothing new to her, however being in the studio and creating music alongside her boyfriend was. Creating, recording, and being in the studio was her favorite part of being an artist. She lived for it, and it's where she thrived, but being able to do that with JC only made the experience that much more enjoyable.

"Ready?" JC asked, turning to Char, with his hand on the computer mouse.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Let's hear it," Rodney said excitedly.

As JC clicked played, the control room came alive with the gentle, fluttering sounds of keys and chimes, followed by a brief intro before JC's verse.

I never knew such a day could come
And I never knew such a love could be inside of one
I never knew what my life was for
But now that you're here, I know for sure

I never knew 'til I looked in your eyes (oh, baby)
I was incomplete 'til the day you walked into my life, ooh
And I never knew that my heart could feel
So precious and pure, our love is so real

As the song played, Char's lips curled into a tender smile, her heart swelling with pride and joy. The intertwining of her's and JC's perfectly blended, serenaded her ears. A wave of emotion washed over her, as she was able to hear the connection they shared in musical form.

Can I just see you every morning when I open my eyes
Can I just feel your heart beating beside me every night
Can we just feel this way together 'til the end of all time
Can I just spend my life with you

As the final notes of the chorus lingered, Char's gaze instinctively sought out JC's. In that instant, time seemed to suspend, and the air around them thickened with an electrifying tension. In that moment, it was as if their eyes were two mirrors reflecting a shared understanding.

When the music came to an end, Char's attention was gently pulled away from JC's gaze by Rodney's voice, cutting through the charged atmosphere. "Now that is a hit!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands together.

Char turned to acknowledge him, a smile tugging at her lips. "Well if anyone knows, it's you!" Grammy Award-nominated producer, Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins, was a force to be reckoned with- a one man hit-making factory. With a string of chart-topping hits, and a reputation that preceded him, his talent and ear for music was unparalleled. His creative touch had produced three top ten hits for Char on her debut album, and the undeniable chemistry they shared in the studio made them a perfect team. So, as Char began recording for her sophomore album, it was a no-brainer to enlist Rodney as a part of the production team.

"I'm telling you," Rodney said, wagging a finger. "You two together, are magic!"

"Well, hey, I mean, I can't argue with that," JC chimed in a playful glint in his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, mirroring Char's smile, and a warmth spread across his features. In that shared moment of acknowledgement, their connection seemed to deepen, their unspoken understanding transcending the bounds of words.

"Well on that note," said Rodney. "I think it's a good time for a break. Good work y'all!"

"Oh my gosh, time flies," Char remarked, checking the time on her watch.

Rodney stretched his arms above his head, the strains of their collaborative session still reverberating in the air. "Why don't you two lovebirds get out of here," he teased. "Y'all earned a much-needed place."

"Sounds like a plan," JC agreed, looking at Char. "Let's get outta here!"

 

*~*~*~*~*

"You okay?" JC asked Char as he watched her pick at her salad. An hour later, they were seated at an outside table at The Ivy. The golden rays of the afternoon cast a warm glow over the bustling scene. The chatter of patrons and the clinking glasses mixed with the sounds of passersby and the shuttering of cameras from paparazzi competing for the best celebrity sighting.

Char looked up from her plate, meeting his eyes, silently praying that her anxiety wasn't noticeable. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well for one, you've barely said a word since we left the studio," JC pointed out. "It's like you had a sudden shift in your mood."

Okay, so maybe her anxiety was noticeable. "I guess I'm just a little bit on edge," she admitted.

JC looked around and a realization dawned on him. "About... being out... in public?"

"Yeah," Char nodded. "I feel like everyone's staring at us."

JC shrugged. "I mean, they probably are. So what?"

"I-" Char stammered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's just that things are different now." Ever since their relationship had been outed, Char found herself thrust into the harsh spotlight of public scrutiny. The love she shared with JC, had become a catalyst for hate. The influx of hate mail and venomous comments that polluted online message boards had taken a toll on her spirit. While a significant portion of their devoted fans embraced their relationship with open arms, and were genuinely happy for them, there remained a distressing segment within the *Nsync fandom that hated that they were together. Many felt betrayed once it was revealed that they'd been together for almost seven years, and the vitriol aimed at Char seemed relentless.

Over the years, and as her star was on the rise, Char had become well acquainted with the dark side of fame- the hate comments, the unwarranted criticism, the constant scrutiny of her every move, the unsolicited comments on her weight and body. She'd learned to develop a thick skin, knowing that being in the public eye meant exposing herself to both adoration and animosity. But it was the insidious racism woven within these attacks that pierced through her defenses, shaking her to her core.

With each passing week, the racism grew more blatant, more brazen. It was a poison that seeped into her consciousness. Every racist comment she encountered triggered a visceral response, an overwhelming wave of anxiety that almost consumed her entire being.

JC was no stranger to the world of gossip blogs, forums, and message boards, but he had consciously distanced himself from the toxic environment they often fostered. Aware of the negativity that could arise from such platforms, he chose to shield himself from the barrage of hate and criticism that had plagued their relationship. Char, on the other hand, found herself ensnared in a treacherous cycle. In her moments of solitude, when the weight of the world pressed upon her shoulders, she would inadvertently find herself descending into the depths of those online rabbit holes, as if an invisible force drew her in, compelling her to read the hurtful comments and immerse herself in the sea of negativity.

With every passing minute spent browsing chat rooms and message boards, the poison of those hateful words seeped into Char's being, their impact far surpassing mere criticism. It gnawed at her self-worth, planting seeds of shame deep within her soul. The inexplicable shame left her even more confused and grappling with conflicting emotions. Logically, she knew that the bigotry and ignorance behind those comments were not a reflection of her worth or character. But even still, the shame persisted, lingering like an unwelcome guest in the corridors of her mind.

The suffocating weight of shame and embarrassment held Char captive, rendering her voiceless and unable to reveal the true extent of the hate to JC, her mom, or Johnny. In her mind, she felt like keeping it from them was for their benefit. Aware of JC's fiercely protective nature, she feared that his reaction would ignite a firestorm, subjecting him and the rest of the group to backlash from fans. She couldn't bare to be the cause of such turmoil among the guys.

And while she desperately wanted to talk to Johnny about it, she couldn't, because he was her co-manager alongside her mother. And anything that Johnny knew, her mother would know. Diahna, fierce and protective, would undoubtedly embark on a warpath, escalating the situation beyond measure. The mere thought of her mother amplifying the already tumultuous circumstances filled Char with even more anxiety. She wanted the least amount of attention on this as possible. So, she suffered in silence, hoping and praying that it would all die down.

"Does it bother you?" Char asked JC, finally working up the nerve.

"Does what bother me?" JC asked, in between bites of his food. "The attention? What other people have to say? No," he shrugged dismissively.

"No, I mean-" she stopped short, working up the nerve to ask the question. "Does it bother you that... I'm black, and you're white?"

JC's gaze locked onto Char, his expression a whirlwind of disbelief, surprise, and a tinge of hurt. Words momentarily escaped him. "I... Are you being serious right now?" he finally managed to utter, his voice tinged with a mixture of shock and confusion.

Char met his eyes with a look of apprehension, nodding cautiously. "Yes," she answered him.

A flicker of pain flashed across JC's eyes before his features softened. "Baby," he said, his voice soft. "We've been together for almost seven years. If it bothered me, I would've never pursued you in the first place."

Char nodded, her heart squeezing with the truth of JC's words. He didn't need to say that for her to already know it. She knew before she even asked the question, but she needed the validation. Until now, being an interracial couple had never been an issue for them. It never came up, and it wasn't even something that they even consciously thought about. But now, it was all she could seem to think about, and it was driving her mad.

"Is something bothering you?"

JC's voice, filled with concern, broke through the tangled web of Char's thoughts. She hesitated for a moment, caught between the desire to protect JC from the weight of her own struggles, and the longing to finally let everything go. The weariness of carrying everything in silence had begun to take its toll, the constant loop of hurtful comments, messages, and letters echoing in her mind. "I-" she choked, not even knowing where to begin. "It's just... that... um... the fans don't like that I'm with you."

A confused look crossed JC's face. "That's what's bothering you?" he asked, surprised. "But we already discussed this. I thought we agreed not to let the opinions of a few small minded people get to us."

As she met his gaze, Char realized that he was completely oblivious. In that moment, she grappled with a tumultuous conflict within herself. There was a large part of her that wanted to protect his innocence, and also to keep him from reacting. Yet the weight of her own suffering had become too heavy to bear alone, and all she wanted to do was tell him everything, like she always had.

"No, it's not that!" Char blurted out, surrendering to the inner turmoil that had consumed her. The weight of her secret had become too heavy to bear alone. "Josh, people have been ruthless. Cruel. Going way below the belt," she continued. "I don't even feel comfortable repeating some of the things fans have said to me and about me." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself, as her hands started trembling. She looked into JC's eyes, her voice barely above a whisper, as she revealed what hurt her most of all. "I get called the N-word on a daily basis."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the reality that Char had faced. She finally unleased the burden of the hate she had endured, exposing the raw vulnerability that lay beneath her brave façade.

"Wait, what?" JC gasped. His face paled, his eyes filled with a mix of shock, anger, and profound sadness.

"I- I didn't want to make things worse," she stammered.

His shock turned into incredulity as he absorbed her words. "Make things worse by telling me?" JC's voice rose with a mix of confusion and frustration. The idea that his ignorance had inadvertently perpetuated her suffering struck him hard.

Char's eyes welled with tears, her voice quivering. "I didn't want you to lash out at the fans," she explained, her words strained. "I don't want you to address it and have that cause backlash for you and the guys."

His anguish intermingled with a fierce protectiveness. "I'm your boyfriend Char. It's my job to protect you," he said, his tone unwavering. "If you're being attacked, I need to fucking know these things!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she mentally berated herself for crying in public, terrified that paparazzi may pop out of a nearby bush at any moment to capture her breakdown. "I don't-" she choked. "I don't wanna pit you and the guys against your fans. That's the last thing I wanna do."

"If they're racist, then they're not our fans. And I sure as hell don't want them buying our music," JC declared, his voice resolute.

She loved him, unconditionally, and she knew how much he loved her, and the lengths he'd go to protect her. Even so, she'd never ask him to put his career on the line for her. She had witnessed firsthand the struggles the guys had faced with their former manager, Lou Pearlman. The battle had almost cost them everything they'd worked so hard for. Now, that Bye, Bye, Bye, was a top 5 hit on the US charts, and rising on the charts internationally, and their album projected to go number 1, they were on the precipice of greatness. They were so close to proving their staying power without the help of Lou, the fear of jeopardizing it all weighed heavily on her.

"Josh, I just watched you guys dig yourselves out of the damn gutter," Char replied, her voice filled with determination. "Your album is about to come out, you guys are bigger than ever right now. You can't say anything!" She pleaded.

JC stared at her with desperation in his eyes, his heart breaking. His girlfriend was falling apart in front of him, and she was begging him not to do anything about because of... him. "You tell me you're on the receiving end of racial attacks, and yet you expect me to just sit here and be fine with it?"

"I don't expect you to be fine with it. I'm just asking you to keep your cool," Char replied as she wiped her tears on a napkin, attempting to regain her composure.

"I don't know how you expect me to be cool about this," JC said, his voice laced with incredulity. "Does Ms. Diahna know about this?"

Char opened her mouth to speak, but JC cut her off.

"No," he shook his head. "Because if she did, she'd be going nuclear by now!"

"And she can't know!" Char told him. "Not yet."

"She needs to know," JC replied. "And so does Johnny. It needs to be addressed. This isn't okay, babe."

"I know," Char nodded. "Trust me, I know."

"Well if you don't want me to say anything, at least let Johnny do something about it. He could have Sonia come up with a statement" he suggested, referring to the group's publicist, Sonia Muckle.

"Fine," Char conceded. She felt a headache coming on and she was tired of going back and forth with him. "But not until after the album comes out."

"You're not serious?" JC balked. "That's two whole weeks!"

"Yeah, I know!" Char retorted. "Just keep quiet for two weeks. Better yet, make it three. Wait until after the first week's sales come in."

JC let out an exasperated sigh, and squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know if I can do that," he said honestly.

"You have to. Please," she pleaded with him. "I can ride it out for just three more weeks, I promise."

"Fuck," groaned. "Fine! Three weeks, and then we sit down together, and tell your mom, Johnny, and Sonia."

"Okay, fine." Char agreed.

"But you have to promise me something," JC said, meeting her gaze.

"What?" Char asked apprehensively.

"No more secrets," JC demanded. "I can't have you keeping things from me. Especially things like this. If people are attacking you, then I need to know."

Char's heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and relief as she embraced JC's warmth, his words of unwavering support overwhelming her. In that moment, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders, the burden of her secrets and struggles shared between them. Rendered speechless, she simply nodded, watching as he got up from his chair, and knelt down beside her.

"C'mere," he whispered, his arms outstretched. Char fell into his arms, and they stayed locked into each other's embrace. Char's tears fell silently, but this time, they were tears of release in the realization that she was not alone in her battles.

JC's grip tightened, his voice a tender whisper against her ear. "Anything you go through, we go through together," he vowed, his words resolute and filled with an unwavering commitment. "You're not alone."