December 20th, 1997

Montreal, Quebec, Canada

Geeze, when they said you’d be nervous about the big day they weren’t kidding! You could practically hear my knees knocking throughout the freaking church! I took a few deep breaths and started pacing. I can’t believe I have to stand in these stupid heels while the pastor blabbers on and on. Oh well, I guess I can deal with it because of the day. I just can’t wait for it to be over so we can go on with the rest of our lives.

I felt weird in this fancy dress. It puffed out at the bottom and tied in the middle with a light blue ribbon, but I have to admit that it was gorgeous. The hairdressers had come over to the house this morning and fixed our hair––mine now was straight at the top and had lose, big curls at the bottom. Ordinarily I’d stay away from the curling iron but the woman who did my hair was a genius.

I glanced down at the flowers in my hand. A mixture of light pinks, peach, and orange filled the bouquet, the flowers complimenting the peach and gold in my dress. We didn’t want to be traditional with the dress colors and we agreed on peach. I let out another breath and peered through the slit of the tent like the bridesmaids as they whispered excitedly. The ground was lightly dusted with snow that reflected light as if Santa had come down and sneezed glitter everywhere. Under a natural arch of trees, was a long red carpet with chairs on either side. A bridesmaid turned to smile at me.

“Are you ready?” she asked. I nodded and forced a smile.

“There’s the music,” one squealed excitedly.

“Rachael, you’re up,” I said. She gave me a smile before slipping through the tent door. We could hear oohs and aahs as she walked slowly down the carpet, reaching Justin who escorted her the rest of the way to the altar before they separated and stood on either side. “Your turn,” I told Kelly. She gave me one last smile and then walked down the carpet slowly, taking her time and walking with the music. I peered out and saw Joey step forward, holding out his arm. I smiled at how his face lit up when he saw her. He really loved that girl.

“I guess I’m up now,” Danielle said happily, lightly jogging in place in happiness. She toned down her smile a bit before she stepped out as well, keeping her eyes glued on Chris who was waiting for her.

“Just one more,” Lance’s cousin, Melissa, smiled at me before she, too, walked down the aisle and joined Lance before they separated at the altar.

And then there was one. I finally stepped out of the tent, hoping not to throw up as my stomach clenched. I looked down at the ground briefly when everyone’s heads turned towards me, whispers rippling through the crowd. I could feel my cheeks flame and I smiled, finally looking up…and saw JC.

He waited patiently with his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes on me, and a smile gracing his perfect, full mouth. His bright blue eyes sparkled, completing his smile. It seemed to take an eternity but I finally reached JC. He offered his arm and I took it, instantly relaxing when he lightly covered my hand with his other one and we walked down the aisle. We finally reached the altar, he turned and looked at me, before we separated and stood in line with the others.

As the tent flap opened once more everyone craned their necks as they stood and the wedding march sounded. At the front of the altar, Ford Lofton licked his lips and let out a nervous breath as he stared down the aisle into the eyes of his wife-to-be Stacey Bass.

The wedding went by without a hitch. There was no dry eye in the place when they read their vows to each other. I’ll admit, even lil’ ol’ tough me got a bit misty. (But that’s all!) The backyard burst into cheers and applause when they finally shared their kiss as man and wife. I was happy too, but I was in a short dress in the middle of Canadian winter for crying out loud! Even with the sun out it was cold; I needed to change and fast! After we all walked back down the aisle the whole wedding (guests, family, friends, everyone) went back into my house where the party was being held.

“No rice!” I warned the family members that were waiting by the back door for Stacey and Ford to come in. “I don’t want to have to spend the rest of the day cleaning.”

I politely shoved my way through the guests before running up the stairs as if my life was on the line. Once I burst into my room Little J and Oreo ran around in circles, jumping randomly, and yipping, clearly happy to be let out of their prison from the past four hours. I closed the door behind myself and sighed, resting my back against it.

Finally the day was over; I could just hang out with my friends, relax, and more importantly, eat cake. Christmas was coming up in five days and I still needed to finish decorating the place. I sighed and walked towards the front window, smiling at the untouched snow that had covered the tracks of the friends and family that came to see the Lofton-Bass union.

Snow was lightly dusted on top of the green trees and everything sparkled under the sunlight. The screams of neighbors down the street filled the air. How I wish I could just go back and be a kid again, not worrying about the challenges that life would inevitably throw at me.

Don’t get me wrong; being only sixteen I’ve experienced a lot so far. I’ve choreographed for a great upcoming band (and yes, I have to say that ‘cause the guys are my friends), I’ve choreographed for the Backstreet Boys, filmed my debut movie in the three months of summer, and now I was going to start looking around for some producers, which my A&R guy Greg would have the last word on, so I could start working on my debut CD for Jive.

At the beginning of the summer I thought I was crazy for tackling all of these things at one time. I was even this close to quitting everything, but the guys convinced me to continue with it so I did. I knew as long as I had their support I’d be able to do whatever I set my mind on. I’m just too ambitious, I guess.

I just wished there were days that I could just run around and act my age, go see movies, hang out with friends, and do nothing stressful. Not that I would ever change my life as it is now. I’ve made great friends along the way and I wouldn’t trade it up for anything. The only thing I wished I could change was my family life.

It seemed like as soon as I turned sixteen my stable family fell apart. Mom and Dad came together to celebrate my big day in Orlando with the guys. It started out great, until Mike Davenport showed up. He’s Mom’s boyfriend, the father of my soon-to-be-born baby brother or sister. Mike’s nice, smart, charismatic, and a good listener. In short, he was everything my Dad wasn’t anymore. Since they broke it off and the divorce was finalized it’s like he became a completely different person.

He used to be so laid back but now he’s stressed out all of the time. A better reason, as my mom says, for me to move back to Memphis to be with her and Mike. I can’t decide where to stay, I love Orlando and I love Memphis and I love Momma and Daddy but I can’t choose between them. It’s too hard. I don’t think they understand that.

“Get offa my feet. I’ll feed you as soon as I change, ok?” I fought Little J and Oreo off and quickly changed into a gray tank-top, an off-the shoulder blue superman t-shirt (courtesy of Joey) and jeans. I easily lifted Little J and Oreo into my arms and they snuggled into my elbows comfortably, enjoying the ride. They were adorable for puff balls.

“Go go go go go go go!” Justin, Chris, and Joey yelled at the TV screen as they pumped their fists in front of them. I leaned forward a bit to see what was on TV. Of course, a hockey game. The Toronto Maple Leafs were playing against the Vancouver Canucks. They were both pretty good but if I had to choose between them I’d vote for the Maple Leafs, hands down. However, the team I supported was the Montreal Canadiens, of course, otherwise I’d bring shame to Montreal (or so my Poppy says).

“C’mon! Go for the hat trick!” Justin shouted.

“Korolev’s not going to get it,” I told him. “He’s a Centre, but he shoots to the left all the time, trying to cross it over. It won’t work this time, he’s covered too well.” I watched and nodded as Korolev tried to make a shot but it was easily blocked by the goalie and Canuck got it and took it to the other end of the ice. “Toldja,” I said simply, before walking into the kitchen. And they think I don’t know my sports. I smirked.

“Hey Mamaw!” I greeted my grandma happily as I walked into the kitchen. I put my dogs on the floor and rushed over to give her a hug. Mamaw is my Momma’s mom and Poppy is my Momma’s dad. Grammaw is my Daddy’s mom and PopPop is my Daddy’s dad. I know, I wasn’t original with names when I was growing up, sue me. “Do you need any help in here?” I asked, looking around. Stacey and Ford had decided to hold their reception later tonight instead of right after the wedding to allow us some time to relax and allow them some time to be together and explore Montreal.

“Yes Sugar. I need your help peeling these potatoes,” she replied, pointing to the basket that was sitting on the kitchen table. “I need some quick hands to help me out.” She smiled peacefully as I nodded.

“Ok, just let me ask if I can get some help from the guys.” I turned to walk out of the room but not quick enough to miss the disapproving look on her face.

Let’s just say Mamaw is a Southern Belle and she wants me to be one too. She doesn’t think I should spend much time around boys and that I should be going to etiquette school or something. Right, like I’d do well in etiquette school.

“Hey, can one of you guys be a dear and help me and my Mamaw peel potatoes?” I asked as sweetly as possible.

“Maaaack, the game’s on!” Justin whined.

“Five more minutes,” Joey joined in.

“Please?” Chris added. Danni, Rachael, and Kelley all rolled their eyes and went back to their conversations.

“Lance?” I asked him, begging with my eyes.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m trying to finish my wedding present to Stacey and Ford,” he replied, apologizing.

“I’ll help,” JC said, getting off the couch. “The game’s getting boring anyway,” he said, following me into the kitchen.

“Thanks JC, you’re so sweet,” I said happily. “Mamaw, this is my friend JC. Jace, this is my Mamaw, my mom’s mom,” I said, pointing to each of them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” JC said sweetly as he held out his hand.

Mamaw shook his hand but had that look in her eye. Oh man I thought, shaking my head. She’s going to grill him like a shish-kabob. I pulled up a stool and handed him a potato peeler before grabbing a potato and starting to peel it myself. He did the same by Mamaw continued to stare at him, her lips pursed, waiting to say something.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why would your parents name you with initials?” Mamaw asked in that way that she could ask a question without sounding rude despite the question.

“JC’s not really my name, it’s a nickname,” he replied politely. “It’s a shortened version of my name. I got it while I was on the TV show The Mickey Mouse Club.”

If possible her lips stretched out further as she continued to peel her potato rapidly, the skin not breaking at all. “I see. What does JC stand for?”

“Joshua Chasez,” he responded.

“Chasez,” she repeated. “That sounds French.”

“It is, ma’am. My parents are of French and English decent.”

I squinted at Mamaw as she nodded. What in the world was she trying to pull? “You remember the MMC show, right? I was telling you about it when I was younger. That show that Justin got on? JC was on the show too,” I told her.

“The entertainment business, I see. I always thought it was filled with people who didn’t know what to do with their lives so they just turned to something simple as making fools of themselves for money,” Mamaw commented.

I stopped in mid-peel and looked at JC. He just shrugged and smiled a little. “Mamaw, can you say the same about some musical greats like Prince or Michael Jackson? They’re in the entertainment business as well.”

“Yes, dear, but they’re artists. There’s a big difference, really,” she said with a wave of her hand. Is she calling me stupid? She paused and peered through her glasses. “Dear, what are you wearing?”

I looked down at my shirt before looking at her. “A tank top, shirt, and jeans,” I responded.

“Ok, but where’s the rest of your shirt?” She lifted her eyebrows.

“This is the shirt, Mamaw,” I responded, letting out a slow breath, trying to stay calm. It was one thing insulting my friends but criticizing the way I dress? I. Don’t. Think. So.

“Sugar, a girl your age shouldn’t be showing off that much skin. You’ll attract unwanted attention that will no doubt lead you into…certain situations.”

My lip twitched. Does she really think I’m still six? Come on! Ugh, why do I have to go through this with JC here of all people? “I understand what you’re saying but I feel comfortable in these clothes and I dress for comfort, not for anyone or anything else.” I kicked JC under the table when I saw his shoulders shaking out of the corner of my eye.

“Tell me, KC, how old are you?” Mamaw asked, suddenly switching her attention to him.

JC immediately stopped laughing but the smile remained on his face. I kicked him again and shot him a warning look but he spoke up anyway. “Um, its JC, ma’am, and I just turned 21 in August.” Oh my God, the guy’s digging me into a grave!

“Now tell me, JayyCeee, if you saw a twenty-one-year-old woman wearing the exact same thing as my granddaughter here, would you hit on her?” Mamaw asked.

“Mamaw, I get it, I’ll put on a different shirt,” I said, putting my potato down.

“Nonsense, it’s just a question.” Mamaw waved me to sit back down. Lord, get me out of here! I begged, looking up at the ceiling.

“Mack, door!” Justin yelled from the living room.

He works fast. “Coming!” I called back. ‘Cause you can’t get off of your lazy ass… “Excuse me, Mamaw,” I said as politely as I could as I rushed into the living room and to the foyer. I pulled open the door and scrunched my eyebrows together.

A beautiful, tall woman stood on my porch, fixing her long brown hair in a small compact mirror that was in her hand. After giving her hair a few good flicks and checking her makeup she lowered her compact, putting it in her purse that hung off her arm. She finally looked up and smiled at me. Her teeth are too straight, they must be capped, I couldn’t help but think. “Yes?” I demanded when she didn’t speak.

“Hiii, you must be Mack,” the girl said, all smiles. My name sounded funny coming out of her mouth.

“Mackenzie,” I replied still staring at her.

“Right,” the girl responded. She then leaned forward a bit and looked around the house, pulling her jacket closer to her. “Is Josh here?”

“Who’s looking for him?” I demanded. You couldn’t be too careful with people. For all I knew she could’ve been a fan that stowed away on a plane and somehow found out that they’d be here. European fans are crazy, trust me. We have videos to prove it.

“Oh, right sorry, I forgot that part.” No shit. “I’m Bobbie.” I squinted at her. “Thomas,” she added. I raised my eyebrows, the name not ringing any sort of damn bells. “Josh asked me to come here. He said that this is your place and…”

“Bobbie. You’re here.” I turned my head and saw the biggest smile I’ve ever seen crossed JC’s face.

“Josh!” Bobbie squealed, yes squealed before shoving past me and jumping into his arms. I closed the door and made a face. Oh no she did not just barge past me into my own house! “If it’s possible I think you’ve gotten cuter,” she said, nuzzling into his neck. Ugh! Gag me!

“Everything’s possible,” JC replied. He took Bobbie’s hand. “Mack, this is my girlfriend Bobbie. Bobbie, this is Mack.” She gave a little wave as I crossed my arms over my chest.

That’s it? That’s all I get? She gets ‘girlfriend’ and I get diddly-fucking-squat? Geeze, I see where our friendship stands. I turned my attention to the stairs as Daddy descended it. He let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw JC and Bobbie slip into the living room. “Good nap?” I asked Dad, reaching out to hug him.

He hugged me and kissed the top of my head. “Good enough,” he replied, stretching. I nodded and turned to go back into the kitchen when something caught my eye. “Nice bruise, when’d you get it?” I asked, lightly touching his side.

Philippe turned his head and looked down. He frowned. “Huh, that wasn’t there before,” he muttered. “I must’ve hit something in my sleep; I’m a little sore still.”

“Must have. Well, I gotta help Mamaw. Hockey’s on in the living room.”

“Good to know.”

I watched as he walked past me, lightly sniffing, before joining the guys in the living room, easily melting into the competitive atmosphere. I shook my head and went back into the kitchen where Mamaw sat at the head of the table, waiting for me to return.

“Mack?” She questioned. I knew that tone. In a few minutes she’d tell me that it wasn’t ‘lady-like’ to shorten my name or something else really ridiculous.

“Yeah, like the apple, the fish, the computer, and the sandwich at fast food joints,” I responded.

“Your parents didn’t name you so you could shorten it and sound like a trucker,” Mamaw said. I threw my arms into the air and sighed. There’s just no pleasing that woman! “Do you know what your name means?”

“Does it have anything to do with a guy named Kenny who likes Macintosh apples and zebras?” I guess dryly.

Mamaw ignored me. Figures. “It means son of a wise ruler. In your case, it means daughter. I like to think that I am wise and your name clearly states that you’re the daughter of one. So that means you should take my…comments to mind.”

You mean your criticism? I wanted to ask but I bit my tongue. Just then the doorbell rang again and I rushed back out. Saved by the bell twice in one day? You’re looking out for me, Lord. “Geeze, any more surprises today and I’ll probably have a heart attack,” I muttered, twisting the knob, and yanking the door open. I gaped at who stood on the porch.

“Hi!” Nick said cheerfully.

Oh shit.