JC Chasez pulled into his driveway at 3:00 in the morning. It had been a long day at the studio and he hadn’t left until nearly 2:00. The Girl Radical album was well on its way to being complete and there were several finishing touches that still needed to be done before it could be declared “finished.” As tired as he was, he was grateful for what he was doing. He knew not many people could say they loved their job but he’d been in this business for over twenty years now and although there had been rough times, it had all been worth it. He was having the time of his life. Walking inside the house from the garage, he immediately turned off the security system, chugged a glass of water, and headed straight upstairs to his bedroom. The best part about Sundays was that he could sleep as late as he wanted and could truly have a day off, which he planned on doing that next morning. He unbuttoned his shirt and lazily threw it in his walk-in closet. He’d hang it up tomorrow, but right now all he wanted was his bed. His phone was shut off, the heavy blinds were drawn, and his bed was calling his name.

He was now the official bachelor of what used to be ‘Nsync. Everyone else was either married or engaged, but JC liked bachelorhood. Not to mention, commitment made him cringe. He’d been in years long relationships, but the girls usually gave up after they saw no ring in sight or realized just how much JC was married to the studio. His mother worried that he’d die alone, but JC had assured her he was fine, that he didn’t want to be with anyone right now, and that if it happened, it happened, but if not, it would be OK. She hadn’t liked hearing that – Karen Chasez had been particularly fond of his last girlfriend – but now that Tyler was married off and Heather had a boyfriend, she knew that at least two of her three would have grandchildren sooner or later. JC had always been her independent child, even into adulthood. At least, he told her, she could be proud that he owned two homes and had survived Hollywood without any major calamity.

JC sank into his bed, rolled over onto his stomach, and immediately fell asleep. He didn’t plan on waking up until he absolutely had to, and that, he figured, wouldn’t be until noon. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

The doorbell woke him up. He was confused at first, as he knew it was early Sunday morning and nobody ever came over on Sunday. He groaned and looked at the clock next to the bed. 8:30AM. What in the hell…? ‘Maybe they’ll go away’ he thought to himself, and tried to turn over and fall asleep again. The doorbell rang once more and after cursing several times, JC finally pried himself up, stumbled around throwing on a t-shirt and sweats, and went downstairs, already rehearsing the speech he would give to whomever thought it was absolutely necessary to wake him up at 8:30 on a Sunday morning.

Opening the door, he did a double take and was completely confused. Standing there in front of him was a middle-aged woman in jeans and a pink turtleneck. Her grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Standing next to her was a little girl, her brown hair in pigtail braids, and looking down at the ground. Was this a Girl Scout call? A Jehovah’s Witness?

“Are you Joshua Chasez?” the woman asked, looking at a card and then back at JC.

“Yes. Can I help you?” JC rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he spoke and bewilderingly looked from the little girl to the woman and back.

“My name is Charlotte Peters. I’m with the New York Foster Society –“

“Um, I’m sorry, but I give to like, billion charities and –“

“Mr. Chasez, let me finish please. Are you familiar with the name Shayna Minello?” Charlotte Peters continued as JC scratched his head.

Shayna had been a girl he’d dated for about three months at least five years ago. She was in L.A. filming a pilot and they’d met at a bar in West Hollywood. He hadn’t heard from her since she left and told him she didn’t want to do long distance. He hadn’t really been bothered or upset because Shayna had always felt more like a fling than a relationship in the first place.

“I am,” JC nodded. “What’s wrong with Shayna?”

“Mr. Chasez, it’s probably best that I come in,” Charlotte cleared her throat and JC opened the door wider, even more puzzled as she followed him into the house. The little girl obediently sat down on the couch and continued to look down at her hands. Charlotte sat next to her, while JC stood next to the fireplace mantle. “Mr. Chasez, Shayna passed away last month.”

“Oh, wow, okay, I’m sorry to hear that. Um, to be honest, I haven’t spoken with Shayna in a long time. Probably since she left L.A. So I’m really not sure why you’re –“

“This is Shayna’s daughter. Emma-Claire. You are her biological father,”