"Why are you calling me?" Matt asked as he stood outside on the patio. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Renee hadn't followed.

"Calling to make sure you're holding up our end of the deal." Addison's voice floated through the phone.

"I sent the voicemail today. She should have opened it by now." Matt rubbed a free hand over his face thinking of the voicemail he had created by manipulating the conversation he had recorded between himself and JC the other night at dinner. "You know it's not going to work."

"Oh it will work." Addison smirked. "Once Rachel hears that voicemail, she'll be too distraught to cope and leave. I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"What makes you think she'll be distraught? She'll probably be so pissed off the conversation was even sent to her to begin with."

"Oh she'll be distraught. Trust me Matthew, a woman knows. And Rachel is in love with JC. This will destroy her."

Matt sighed. He knew Rachel harbored feelings for JC. Since his conversation with JC the other night, he now knew that JC was in love with her. It made what he did a thousand times worse. Confirming his feelings for Rachel wasn't something he thought JC would ever do. Matt figured he'd dance around them for years to come. It had caught him off guard and he almost called an end to the whole plan. Then JC had mentioned Renee and the pit in his stomach grew. He couldn't end the plan. If he didn't follow through with Addison's demands, she was going to tell Renee. If Renee found out he cheated on her, their relationship was over.

"Why do you have to hurt her?"

"It's nothing personal," Addison said. "I want JC and she's in my way."

"Even if Rachel leaves, there is no guarantee JC will even look at you twice."

Addison laughed. "Trust me, he'll do more than look."

Matt ended the call without even bothering to say goodbye. In order to save his own marriage, he had potentially torpedoed a relationship between two of his friends. For years he had watched JC and Rachel dance around their feelings. It was obvious to everyone they liked each other. He had been in plenty of conversations with people talking about when the two would finally wizen up. The pool amongst the circle of friends kept growing, getting bigger and bigger with each passing year. The last time he placed money in the pot, he had said JC would realize his feelings for Rachel before he turned forty. That gave him a little over three years. With the dinner conversation, he was ready to place a new bet. JC would come clean before his birthday in August. It was a little over three months away which would give JC the opportunity to freak out about the feelings, hem and haw over them, before finally coming up with a plan to tell her. It would be perfectly executed no doubt.

Except for one problem.

The voicemail Matt had sent Rachel. The conversation had been real. Matt had just pulled sound bytes and moved them around to different locations. JC hadn't been talking about how Rachel hung all over him or how he couldn't wait to get rid of her. No. He had been talking about how she was the one. There had been thirty minutes of conversation to sift through and pull from. What he had sent Rachel had been roughly 30 to 45 seconds of the whole conversation. It took him nearly an hour to send it after he had it completed.

He wish beyond all hope that Rachel would delete the voicemail without hearing it. He spoofed his number allowing it to come up as unknown. Unknown callers never had anything important on the other side. The ones that called him were automated systems that tried to scam people out of money. He hoped Rachel would assume it was a scam and delete it without listening. If that didn't work, he hope she would corner JC and demand an explanation on why she had received a voicemail of him talking about how much he didn't like her. If he couldn't get the first scenario that was the one he wanted. He banked on JC's and Rachel's many years of friendship would see the lies laced throughout the voicemail. JC wasn't a very good liar. He was terrible. No way would Rachel believe he didn't like her. Maybe he should just get in his car and go over to JC's house and fess up. He would come clean to them about the voicemail and about Addison and hope they would forgive him.  That seemed like the best thing he could do.

Before Matt should make a move, arms wrapped around him from behind. His wife's perfume circled him and he closed his eyes.

"You look like you're about to go in to battle."

"Sorry," Matt turned in Renee's arms. He bent his head, kissing her softly on the lips. "Lot of things on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about them?"

Matt smiled at Renee, lifting a hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "Just trying to work things out in my head first."

"I'm here if you want to talk."

"I love you." Matt knew he couldn't go to JC's and fess up. Doing so would cause him to lose the woman in front of him. It was something he couldn't risk. All he could do was hope that JC's and Rachel's friendship was strong enough to withstand his manipulation.

*~*

The worst seat on the plane. The middle seat of the very last row of the plane right in front of the bathroom. Desperate people did crazy things. That would explain why she was currently sitting in that seat. Would explain why she had paid $700 for that seat. She was desperate. She would have paid $700 to sit on the toilet. She cried while she tossed items into a suit case and a carry on. She cried while she booked the final seat on a plane out of LAX. She cried while she drove herself to the airport. She cried while she parked in long term parking and would have continued to cry in her car if she hadn't been on a time crunch to make her flight.

The flight had a layover in Houston before landing in Jackson, Mississippi at 10:30 that night. Rachel hadn't even let her parents know she was coming. She hadn't even been able to look at her phone since she had booked the flight. It was on silent at the bottom of her carry on bag beneath her seat. If she had enough strength, she would have left it laying on her bed. She couldn't bring herself to leave it behind.

When the no electronics sign went off and people started reaching for items they had stowed either beneath their seats on in the overhead compartment, Rachel didn't make a move. Listening to music or reading a book meant grabbing her phone and she didn't want to look at her phone. Her watch told her that JC was still at the studio. He wouldn't know she was gone. He could still text her. She didn't want to see any of his communications.

‘I don't even like her.'

The words played like a loop over and over in her mind. Each run through shattered what was left of her heart. She wasn't through crying and had to fight with her emotions to break down. The last place she wanted that to happen was 35,000 feet in the air surrounded by strangers. She didn't want that and she knew the people on the plane didn't want that either. She wasn't even sure what she was going to do once the plane landed in Jackson.

Mississippi was the only place that came to mind when she knew she had to get away. It was home. Granted it hadn't been her home since she had graduated high school fifteen years ago, but that didn't matter. That house in Clinton would always be considered home. She wasn't sure how she was going to explain her sudden appearance. Her parents weren't expecting her for another couple weeks. She and JC were due to fly out on the fourth - her birthday - for New Orleans. JC started rehearsals for Jesus Christ Superstar. While JC would be rehearsing, she had planned to sneak out for a few days to visit her family in Mississippi. It was only a three hour drive.  She had already secured tickets for the New Orleans show for her parents, Stacy and Ford, and Lance and Michael.

It had been an exciting last few weeks with the announcement of JC joining the cast. It had been well received and she couldn't wait for people to see him on stage. She couldn't wait for people to hear him sing again. That question had filled her social media notifications on a daily basis. It was in the back of her mind that after this summer tour, he would be bitten by the performance bug and want to start singing again. From New Orleans they were going to be living the bus life again. It was silly, but they had been excited to be on a tour bus again after so many years had passed.

Everything was now in a spin.

I don't even like her.

Rachel felt the tears welling up in her eyes and blinked quickly trying to hold them back. She was not going to cry on the plane. Using the long sleeve on one arm of the cardigan wrap she wore, she blotted it against her eyes to wipe away the tears. She didn't think she'd ever forget hearing those words from JC. He didn't even like her. How could they have lasted fifteen years if he didn't like her? How was that possible?

Was it a new development? Did he discover her feelings for him? Was that the reasoning? Once he discovered what she felt for him exceeded friendship was that the beginning of the end? Did he try to continue their friendship but it eventually got too hard? Had she been unable to keep her feelings hidden? Had she messed up and somehow alerted him? Did knowing she was in love with him kill their friendship? Did her feelings for him make him hate her?

What did JC mean when he said he had to suck it up for the next week or two and then she'd be gone? Was he going to fire her? Two weeks would put then in New Orleans. Did that mean she wasn't going with him to New Orleans? Was he going to fire her before they left? That meant he was firing her on her birthday. It didn't make sense. They had been making plans for New Orleans. JC had made her promise she would invite her parents down one night so they could have dinner together. He'd been looking forward to seeing them again.

‘He could still like your parents even if he doesn't like you.'

Rachel wished she had been able to take some of Lance's sleeping pill stash. One of them would have been good right about now. She could take it and sleep until Houston. She would be coherent enough to make sure she made her connecting flight, but the medication would dull her brain. It would turn off the voice, turn off the questions. That's what she needed. Something to turn off her brain.

What was she supposed to tell her parents when she knocked on their door at 11 o'clock at night? ‘Hi! Decided to pop in for a visit!' That would never suffice. Her mother would cross her arms, raise an eyebrow, and give her a look. Stronger men have given in under the eye of Diane Bass. When someone caught that look, they were liable to spill every bad thing they had ever done. With just a look Diane had been able to get every piece of information she, Lance, and Stacy had. It was hard to keep a secret in the Bass house if Diane had so much caught hint of a secret. Even on a good day, Rachel wasn't able to keep secrets from her mother. Industry secrets were different. Diane understood some news couldn't be shared. It was the personal ones that turned her mother into a bloodhound on a trail.

I know she's the one.

That one hurt. It hurt almost as bad of hearing JC say he didn't like her. He thought Addison was the one. Addison with the fake laugh, with her fake enthusiasm for anything JC seemed interested in. It was nauseating to hear at times and Rachel finally had to take to leaving when Addison showed up before she did something stupid.

Rachel should have seen it coming. Addison was exactly what JC went for in a woman. She had long brunette hair that had a shine like she stepped out of an Herbal Essence shampoo commercial every day. She had the brown eyes to match. Her skin was olive tone and blemish free. Addison was also on the shorter side. JC was almost a head taller. All those characteristics matched his previous girlfriends dating back to Eva.

Then there was her. Her long blonde hair was usually pulled back in a pony tail, very rarely was it styled. It definitely never looked like she stepped out of a shampoo commercial on a daily basis. Some days the canister of dry shampoo that sat on her sink counter was her best friend. Her eyes were a weird greenish-yellow color. The same color she shared with Lance. That might have been a turnoff for JC. Staring in to her eyes and thinking of her twin brother. Living in California had given her a small tan, but lock her up for the winter in a state like Montana or Wyoming and she'd come out of winter hibernation as white as the snow on the ground. Tanning wasn't high on her list of things to do. Usually she had one color. Red. Her tanning cycle consisted of red, tan, peeling, pasty white. Then there was her height. JC was only a couple inches taller than she was. She couldn't be more opposite. Black, white; up, down; left, right; women JC was attracted to, her.

*~*

JC frowned when he pulled into the garage. Rachel's car was not parked out side nor was it in the garage. He hit the button on the remote attached to his visor to close the garage door and grabbed the phone from the center counsel. The screen lit up revealing no messages since the last time he had checked - at a light at the end of his street. Each time he hit a red light, he'd look at his phone hoping there would be a message from Rachel. There hadn't been. The last message he had received from Rachel had been when she told him bye after refusing to make a coffee run. The frowned deepened.

He had sent numerous texts to her throughout the day. Each garnered no response. Even the couple of phone calls went unanswered. It was late. Knowing that he was leaving for the summer in less than two weeks time, he was trying to finish up as many projects as he could. The latest Girl Radical song was finally done. It was the song that kept him and Jimmy in the studio late tonight. They both wanted to finish it up. With him leaving, Jimmy was taking over the reigns of the group until he returned.

Talking with Jimmy tonight, they planned to meet tomorrow and put in a full day in order to finish the song they'd been working on with Addison. He couldn't wait for it to be done and he could close the door on Addison one final time. That would be a major relief. Jimmy offered to call Addison to tell her the plans and see if she was available. The statement had caused Jimmy to laugh because if JC was involved, Addison would always be available. JC hated that Jimmy was more than likely correct.

JC climbed from his car and walked into his house. The house was quiet and dark. If the missing car out front didn't signal Rachel wasn't home, the quiet definitely did. He flipped on the light in the kitchen and tossed his keys and wallet on the counter. There were no dishes in the sink or food in the fridge - homemade or otherwise. No takeout containers were in the trash. He groaned at his thinking. He was acting like an overprotective father. His thoughts toward Rachel were anything but fatherly.

Grabbing a water from the fridge he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Browsing through the channels on TV, he came across a Star Wars movie that just started. He grinned and settled in thinking of Rachel walking in and seeing the movie on TV. While he watched the movie he prepared a few comebacks for what she'd no doubt say about him watching a movie he had seen at least a hundred times. Stockpiling comebacks had been for nothing. The credits rolled two hours later and Rachel still hadn't returned.

It was now midnight. As he shut off the lights and locked up for the night, he couldn't help but feel a little angry. It was a rare occurrence for them to go this long without some sort of communication. Even if Rachel was out with friends or even back in Mississippi visiting family, she would shoot him texts at various moments throughout the night. The more texts he received was usually an indication of how much alcohol she had. For her not to message him since the early afternoon was odd. He knew she had her phone on her. She never went anywhere without it. She would have seen his texts and his phone calls by now. There was no way she hadn't. Why was she ignoring him?

As he crawled in to bed, jealousy set in. Was she out on a date? Did Melissa set her up with a customer? Did they hit it off and go back to his place? If that was the case, Rachel would have texted him that she was going out. On those blind dates, he always texted her good luck. He never meant it. Not really. He didn't want her to have good luck. He didn't want her to come home after a date and announce that she was in love or that she had met the one. When she went on blind dates, he was on stand by to swoop in with an emergency if Rachel sent him a 9-1-1 get-me-the-hell-out-of-here text. There had been a couple times where he had to rescue her from disastrous dates.

‘You coming home?'

‘Where are you?'

He sent the texts back to back and waited for a reply, but none were forthcoming. His phone remained silent. Not even the three little dots appeared on his screen to let him know she was responding. He sighed and sat his phone down on the bedside table. The red glare of the alarm clock numbers mocked him. Bars and clubs didn't shut down for another couple of hours. Grabbing his phone, he double checked the volume, making sure it was turned all the way up. If Rachel was out on the town and needed him to come pick her up, he didn't want to miss the call.

He would find out what was going on tomorrow when she either crawled from her room or slinked through the front door. He hoped if she came through the front door the next morning, she would tell him she had been out with Melissa and crashed at her place. Then they would sit at the kitchen table eating breakfast while she would tell him stories of the night before. He couldn't help but feel something was wrong. It was a feeling he couldn't explain. JC tried pushing the feeling aside and rolled over and tried to go to sleep.