JC sat in the small shower stall sized glass recording booth of his home studio, strumming the guitar balanced on his knee. He hummed along with the chords and sang a few lines. Stopped, restarted, and sang the few lines again.  Still unsatisfied, he repeated this process three more times, changing his inflection and stressing different syllables. He stopped and looked up, surprised to see his manager, Eric, standing on the other side of the glass. JC promptly exited the glass booth and met Eric next to the soundboard. 

"Sounds good. Glad to see you're working." Eric reached his hand out to shake JC's.

JC shook his hand unenthusiastically. "Yeah, E., contrary to popular belief, I am still actually working," he replied. 

"Well, if you'd return a damn phone call."

JC ignored the comments and pressed buttons on the soundboard, shutting things down. 

"You're under contract, you know." Eric reminded him. 

JC waved away his remark, turned abruptly, and left the studio. Eric followed him into the kitchen. JC's girlfriend, Jen, was seated on a bar stool at the large marble island, typing away on her laptop, an open bottle of a wine and half-full glass sat next to her.  JC, pulled another glass down from a cabinet, topped off his girlfriend's glass, and filled his own with the wine. Still ignoring Eric, he took a long pull from his wine glass. 

"C, what can we do? I can only decline so many meetings."

JC did not respond. He carried his wine glass to the opposite counter and busied himself flipping through mail. Jen remained seated, pretending to remain occupied by her computer, but she followed JC with her eyes. 

"C-" Eric called at him. But he refused to acknowledge him. "JC!" He snapped, even startling Jen. JC turned abruptly with a sigh. 

"I'm doing my thing, Eric. But If I'm going to write songs, I gotta do it on my own time, man."

"I can only make excuses for so long. They want to see you tomorrow, and you need to show up, and you need to show up with some songs."

"I don't have anything completed," JC explained. 

"Jesus Christ, JC. What have you been doing the last month? I keep telling them you are working, and you're busy, but they know that's not true. You won't let me book you for anything. I mean, if you're going to stall, you gotta at least keep your name out there, actually look like you're too busy to write songs. You wouldn't even let me throw you a birthday party last month, come on JC, you gotta give me something here," Eric pleaded.

JC only shrugged in response and took another sip of wine, then returned to his close inspection of the mail. 

"Let me send you to the ETAF gala next week." Eric turned to Jen, "Jen, you look so beautiful in an evening gown." He walked a few steps closer to JC, "C, man, let me get you out there, remind Sony you're worth the wait. Maybe it can get you some more time. Let me book you some more time in that studio you liked in Long Beach, you really came out of there with some good tracks." 

"Isn't that where you've been working?" Jen, finally spoke. 

JC flinched slightly. Maybe if he just ignored Jen's remark, he could pretend like he didn't hear it. He had been using that studio as a cover for the second life he was creating for himself in Long Beach. The life where he wasn't JC, but just Josh. Where he could hide from reality in Nicole's bed a few nights a week. 

"I thought you've been working from here?" Eric asked, confused. 

Fuck, JC thought. So much for ignoring it. He turned quickly, tossed the mail on the counter. "Here, there, doesn't matter. Eric, you know how I work. I need a partner. I need time."

"Well, I hope tomorrow at 10 is enough time, because that's when Sony wants to hear something," Eric sighed. 

"Whelp, I guess there is only one thing to do. Tell them I quit." JC left the kitchen without another word. 

"Can't you do something?" Jen asked Eric, sliding from the barstool. Eric shrugged. 

JC returned to the kitchen wearing black motorcycle boots and a leather jacket. He pulled a set of keys from a hook, and patted his pockets, checking for his phone and wallet. He exited down the stairs and into the garage, allowing the door to slam behind him. He started his black Triumph motorcycle, and before Jen could come after him, exited out of the garage and down winding Sunset Plaza Road, then through the bird streets of Beverly Hills, and then finally south on the freeway.

***

Nicole sat at the awkward bend of the Brit's bar counter near the door.  This was her regular "working" spot, as there were always fewer people, and the location was further away from the speaker connected to the digital jukebox. She rested her elbow on top of a manila folder filled with various pieces of lined paper and other articles of student work to grade and stared down at a faded chess board lined with cheap plastic chess pieces that sat on the counter in front of her. She clutched a half-full wine glass in her hand as she eyed the board, contemplating her next move. 

Dan slid down the bar to her, a cocktail shaker sloshing around the contents of what was sure to be a strong beverage over his left shoulder. He looked at Nicole and the board out of the corner of his eye.  "You haven't moved yet?" He laughed at her. "Good thing it's not speed chess."

"Okay, grand master, I don't know what the hell I'm doing, remember?"

"Not a grand master, Class B 1621," Dan shrugged and slid back down the opposite end of the bar, opened the shaker, and poured a cloudy pink liquid into a rocks glass. "Pay attention to my knight and my bishop," he called back to her. "Those are the pieces that are about to kick your ass." 

Nicole sighed, and pushed her rook across the board in retreat. Not very satisfied, but content with her move, she shifted her attention to the manila folder and skimmed the contents of the top page. She wrote a quick comment with her red pen and circled the score at the top of the paper before flipping to the next one. She scored a few more papers, when her attention was drawn to Dan refilling her wine glass. 

"Smart, maybe if I drink more, these papers will look better?" Nicole laughed.

"Maybe you'll get better at chess too," Dan teased. 

"You're supposed to be giving me lessons, not using me for target practice." 

"Did you read the book I gave you?"

"No, of course not," Nicole answered with a small chuckle.

"Well, you have to study if you want to improve."

Nicole didn't respond. She turned her attention back to her stack of papers, while Dan pushed his bishop a few spaces closer to her knight.

"So, where's the other half tonight?" Dan asked. 

Nicole eyed the board. "Other half?

"Don't play dumb, girl."

Nicole rolled her eyes in response. 

"What's the deal? Are we making this official yet?" Dan pressed.

"No, we aren't making this official yet." Nicole mocked. 

"Is that by your choice or his? Because If you're the hold up, girl, we are going to have a problem."

"By no one's choice." Nicole pinched the knight between her fingers.

"Uh-uh-uh, you sure about that move?" Dan asked. 

Nicole released the chess piece.

"Are you seeing anyone else?" Dan asked, leaning in, resting his chin on his hand as he rested his elbow on the bar top.

"No," Nicole replied softly. 

"Do you want to see anyone else?"

Nicole shrugged. She pinched the top of her bishop. "Why do we need to ruin a good thing by putting some kind of relationship tag on it?"

"That's a defense move, there, with your bishop. But honey, sometimes you need to take risks, and make sacrifices," Dan purred, as he pushed his knight across, the board, "Check mate" he added.

Nicole rolled her eyes and pushed away from the bar. "I'm here for chess lessons, not life lessons," she grumbled at him. She stood, placed her oversized purse on the bar stool, and dug through it to find her cigarettes. She pulled the pack from the bottom of her bag, flung the bag atop of the stack of papers to grade, and shuffled to the outdoor patio. 

Shortly after Nicole's departure, the front door to the bar flung open. JC walked in cautiously, dressed in all black, with his motorcycle helmet wedged between his ribs and his elbow. Dan recognized him immediately as he slowly walked up to the bar. 

"Speak of the devil," Dan laughed to himself. "Hey Josh, Nicole made it sound like you weren't joining her tonight. Vodka soda?" Dan asked with a smile.

"Oh, she... is she here?" JC asked. 

Dan nodded to the chess board and Nicole's stack of papers. He spun a glass in his hand and raised it at JC questioningly.

"Okay," JC answered as he walked over to Nicole's belongings. "Nicole wasn't home, so I figured I'd come by here to see... um, where is she?" 

Dan poured vodka into the glass with one hand and motioned with his other hand that she was smoking. JC set the motorcycle helmet on the counter and reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a few bills and slid them across the counter. Dan set his drink down, but JC ignored it. 

JC walked slowly through the bar. He was stopped momentarily by a bar patron he had chatted with on a previous visit. He was becoming a bit of a regular, and the thought was strangely validating at this precise moment. He stood at the patio door, scanning the small crowd. His eyes landed on Nicole immediately. She was standing, arms locked in a waltz position with an older man, who looked to be in his 70s.  The man wore a pink Hawaiian shirt, his white hair was thinning on his head, but grew in a thick above his lip. He led Nicole in a basic waltz step forward, right, back, repeat. Nicole's laugh was loud. Her eyes closed tightly, and she flung her head back as she laughed deeply, allowing the man to spin her around. She was clearly having a good time, but a small part of her remained reserved. JC recognized this as her standard look. Always an edge about her, she never seemed to fully let herself go. Always on guard, as if the levity of any moment could end just as quickly as it started, and she wanted to be prepared. JC appreciated it. He was cut out of the same cloth, too jaded by disappointment. That commonality made their relationship what it was: expectation free.

JC watched her dance for only a moment before he joined the dancing couple. He walked up behind her and interrupted, "May I cut in?" 

The older man smiled. "I can't compete with younger men," he laughed, and spun Nicole to face JC. 

It took a moment for Nicole to register his presence. He tried to keep the dance steps going, but she stopped immediately once he gripped her right hand in his and wrapped his other arm around her back and rested his hand on her shoulder blade. His presence really threw her for a loop. She was seeing him at least a few days a week for the past month, but she was not expecting him today, and now his unannounced appearance at the Brit seemed more significant than it should, and that scared the shit out of her. 

"She stepped slightly back and broke their dance form, "Josh? What are you doing here?" 

"You weren't home, so I assumed you were here."

"What? Why?" She broke away from his dance embrace completely.

"I- well, I needed to get out, go for a drive, and well, I had some big news, and I wanted to tell you in person."

Her heart pounded in her chest. Why did he need to share big news with her? Her breathing began to shallow. "What news?" she asked nervously.

"I quit!" His face broke into an immediate smile, followed by a goofy head bob, and a silent laugh. 

"You what?"

"I quit. My contract. I told my manager I was done." He smiled wider, expecting her to be excited. When she didn't react, he added, "You know, no more cog in a wheel?" He held his arms out a little in a pantomime of excitement, wiggling his fingers slightly.

"Okay. Okay. So, what does this have to do with me?" Nicole asked, taking a couple of awkward steps back from him. 

"What?" He asked, confused. 

She turned and walked back into the bar. Surprised, JC followed her quickly back inside and joined her as she resumed her seat at the bend of the bar counter. 

"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, sitting down next to her. 

"Yeah, I mean..." She trailed off as she noticed the motorcycle helmet on the counter. "Did you ride your motorcycle here?"

"Yeah, I needed to clear my head. I just got on the bike and road around. I sorta impulsively quit, but I mean I think I am glad I did it," he explained. 

Nicole didn't respond, she just remained seated, blinking at him. 

JC continued, "I guess that's why, you know, I came to see you. I thought, maybe, you'd be happy for me." 

Still no reaction from Nicole. 

"Or maybe, I guess, I just want validation that I did the right thing." He confessed. "I don't really know why I am here, Nicole." He felt his temper rise. "But I don't think I expected this. I can go. I wasn't trying to disturb your chess practice and your ballroom dancing lessons in the retirement community gay bar," JC stood quickly and moved to grab his helmet. 

Nicole registered his frustration and immediately stood, placing herself between him and the bar. She grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving. She reached her free hand up and rested it on his shoulder to balance her as she moved onto her toes. She kissed him suddenly and deeply. JC was taken off guard and froze at first, but when she moved both hands around his neck and increased the depth of the kiss, he complied. 

"I wasn't expecting to see you today, but I am glad you're here." she mumbled into the kiss.

JC moved his hands to her waist. The bottom of her shirt raised slightly as she reached up. His pinky finger made the slightest contact with her skin, sending a small current through her body. The things this man did to her were beyond comprehension. The smell of his cologne, the scratch of his patchy beard on her skin, everything about him pushed her past the limits she created for herself. She knew she was nearing the point of no return, but maybe Dan was right. Maybe it was time to take some risks, make some sacrifices, take a chance.

"Get a room!" Dan called from the other side of the bar. 

Nicole pulled away reluctantly, a slight blush forming on her skin. She loosened her grip around his neck and rested back flat on both of her feet. 

"Wow," JC breathed, smiling down at her.  "So, you approve, then?"

"I approve of us getting out of here." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, let me help you pack this stuff up." JC reached across the bar top and raised the stack of papers. He shuffled them in his hands, straitening them out, and placed them in her bag, before ushering her out of the bar and onto his motorcycle.