Josh: I'm getting out of here in an hour. You want to get food or something?

Nicole: I cooked. Eating now. You wanna just come by? There's enough.  We can go grab a drink or something after.

Josh: What did you make?

Nicole: picky

Josh: Why are you eating so early??

Nicole:  Chilaquiles 

Nicole: 710 seems like a reasonable time for dinner. 

Nicole: I don't keep rockstar hours. 

Nicole scooped a spoon full of food onto her plate, doused the whole thing in salsa, and carried it over to the coffee table in the living room. It had been a busy day, and she was excited to see Josh again. She hadn't seen him in almost two months, since the night at the Troubadour, but they had exchanged almost daily text messages. He was back in Long Beach, at a nearby recording studio. She wasn't sure what he was working on, or who he was working with, all she knew was that he was excited about the recording space. In their text exchanges, he had alluded to feeling uninspired lately, and was looking forward to a change of scenery. 

Nicole ate slowly as she flipped through the channels on her TV. Nothing seemed to hold her attention, so after her meal she played music as she tidied her kitchen. She left the kitchen and pulled a stack of papers out of a bookbag she had flung onto the armchair in her living room, and took a seat on the couch. She figured, she'd occupy herself with grading papers, until Josh came over. She finished that stack, and went back for a second stack before she realized the time. He had said he was leaving in about an hour, but that was three hours ago. Should she text him? He was working, after all, and maybe he was finally hit by a stroke of inspiration. She didn't want to interrupt, but she also didn't want to be up all night waiting for someone who was never going to come by. She reached and grabbed her phone off of the coffee table.

Nicole: Hey how's it going there? Getting stuff done?

Josh: Sorry I got stuck on something and I guess I lost track of time. I can try to wrap things up soon.

Josh: I could definitely use a drink.

Nicole: No worries. Work comes first. Just trying to stay awake hahahaha

Josh: No don't go to sleep. I'll wrap up soon. Go for a walk or something

Josh: Actually, walk here. The studio isn't far from you. Then we can grab a drink, and I'll take you home before you turn into a pumpkin. 

Nicole slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers and pulled on a calf-length, thin gray sweater before she headed out the door. The studio was close by. She had probably walked past it a hundred times. At first glance, it appeared to be an apartment building with a metal door. As she got closer, she noticed a plaque near the call box commemorating the studio's history of recording artists. She pulled out her phone and read Josh's text message with the lock code. She punched in the numbers and the door buzzed. She entered into a dark foyer. There was a red couch and electric blue armchairs placed around a shiny, white, lacquered table. Josh's directions only told her how to unlock the door, not where to go after. She wandered down one hallway. No lights were on, and the line of three closed doors gave her the impression that this was not where she was supposed to be. She turned back quickly and reentered the foyer, thinking lightheartedly that she had just stepped into the opening scene of a horror movie. She noticed a set of stairs that led to what seemed to be a loft. She took the stairs slowly and as she reached the landing she noticed another hallway with a set of similar doors. One door was open halfway, and a soft yellow light was pouring through the opening. She walked to the door and knocked lightly as she entered. A bald man with a long goatee turned and smiled, which prompted her to enter the room, but she remained silent. 

The room was covered in a light wood paneling, and oriental rugs layered on top of each covered the entire floor. There was a lumpy brown leather couch against the wall next to the door. The walls to the left and right of the door had sets of speakers built into them, no sound was coming through them, but she could hear the hum of the electricity. The bald man sat in front of a board that contained a million dials and switches. There were computer screens that sat on both sides of a window opening. The window contained very thick glass, through which she could see another room, decorated similarly, but with more instruments and less furniture. She saw JC seated on a swivel stool banging away on a keyboard. She saw him direct his attention to a small tray, where she watched him scribbling something down on a notepad. 

The man at the board pressed a button, and announced to JC, "Your friend is here. I'm gonna take off. Back again tomorrow, yeah?"

Through the speakers in the wall, she heard him reply, "Yeah, Yeah, man, see you tomorrow. Thank you for everything today." 

The man turned in his chair to face Nicole. "You can get into the studio through the next door. He's just fucking around." He stood up and pulled his phone from his back pocket, checked a few things, and exited the room. 

Nicole walked closer to the board and peered through the window. She could see JC still writing something down on the notepad. He turned his head and noted her appearance through the glass. He smiled at her and told her to come in. His voice rang through the speakers in the room. She exited the control room, and once in the hallway, she could hear him play a few notes on the keyboard. She opened the neighboring door and the notes became clearer. She took a few steps in and heard a crescendo of notes played all at once. It was startling, and she noticed as she had entered the room completely that JC had slammed all of his fingers down on various keys. 

"Is that how the song goes?" she laughed and called out. 

"For now it does," he answered. "It's just been one of those days." He tried to smile but failed. 

Nicole noticed his tired appearance. His eyes were dark compared to the bright blue she remembered. Dark puffy circles hung under his lower lids. His face was covered by thick stubble that was graying in places.  His long hair was tied back into a small ponytail at the back of his neck and covered by a bright orange trucker hat. He had on a denim button down shirt that fastened all the way to the top button under his chin. One sleeve was rolled up, and the other was down. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed and put a hat on.

"Rough day, huh?" she asked him.

"I've been working on this damn song for weeks, and it just won't come out. It's like picking at a knot in a string, and you think you have it loose, but really, when you pull, all you do is make it worse." 

Nicole smiled awkwardly in response. 

"Story of my life lately. I think I'm doing what I should be doing, and everything goes to shit," JC continued.

"I can't imagine anything in your life is shit."

"This song is shit. My writing is shit. The movie we are now not making because it's shit, is shit."

"First world problems, man!" Nicole laughed, but quickly stopped when she realized her joke did not land. She choked back the rest of her laugh and stiffened awkwardly. 

"Sorry." He reached a hand out toward her, opening and closing his fist, motioning for her to come closer. "I'm just not feeling it today." She walked toward him and put out a hand. He grabbed it, stood up and pulled her into a hug. Their height discrepancy allowed him to rest his chin on the top of her head. "Let's get out of here. I need a drink." 

JC shut down the electronics in the studio and turned off the lights. Together they descended the stairs and exited the building. He had mentioned going to a whiskey bar called The Stave that he had seen earlier in the day. Nicole knew the one, and led them down the street and in the appropriate direction. The bar was slightly upscale with lots of leather and dark 1920s Art Deco style finishes. Nicole entered the bar, where she greeted the woman behind the counter with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. JC commented on her popularity in bars. Nicole brushed it off and ordered champagne, while JC ordered some kind of fancy whiskey. Nicole then led them to the outdoor patio, where there were two fire pits with plenty of seating. Once seated, Nicole handed her glass to JC and used her newly free hands to dig in her purse for a cigarette. As she raised the cigarette to her mouth, she caught JC's glare. She shrugged and lit the cigarette anyway. She reached back over and reclaimed her drink. 

"So, what kind of song are you working on anyway?" She asked him.

"I don't know."

"You making a record, or just fucking around?"

"I don't know."

"Is your group getting back together?"

"I seem to be answering that question a lot lately," he chuckled slightly. "No, we aren't."

"So you're all fucked up about a song that you can't seem to write for a reason that doesn't exist?"

"I'm not fucked up about."

She eyed him critically as she took in a drag from her cigarette and blew out the smoke in the opposite direction.  

"Okay, I'm a little fucked up about," he laughed. 

"I have no skin in the game" she mocked. "Spill."

"Just a little lost, I guess. You know, I thought I'd be..." He stopped mid-sentence as his gaze caught something over Nicole's shoulder. He shifted uncomfortably and reached for the brim of his hat, trying to pull it down lower. 

Nicole followed his gaze behind her and turned as two women approached them. 

"You're JC, right. Oh my god!" One of the women said, trying to stifle her obvious enthusiasm. 

JC stood and smiled. He stuck out his hand to shake hers. "Yeah. I am. Hi nice to meet you." 

"I'm Melinda, this Charlie." She smiled and shook his outstretched hand. "Do you think we can get a picture with you?" She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and set her drink on the ledge surrounding the fire pit."

"Yeah, honey, of course." He took the phone and looked at Nicole, who obliged. JC positioned himself between Melinda and Charlie while Nicole, cigarette hanging between her lips, counted down from three and snapped the photo. 

JC hugged both girls and sat back down. 

Before the girls walked away, Charlie finally spoke. "We saw a video of Coachella. Does that mean you guys are getting back together?" 

JC glanced quickly at Nicole, as a way to reinforce his earlier complaint. "Oh no, no. It was just for fun." 

The girls thanked him again and walked back to the opposite side of the patio. 

Nicole smirked and took a final drag of her cigarette before tamping it out in a glass ashtray. "Seems like a purpose to write a song to me."

"I'm just that one guy from *NSYNC, man. I'm not THE guy!" He laughed a little. "That's not a purpose. I just thought you know I could do my own thing. I love writing. I love producing, but I can't even do that lately." 

Nicole thought better of responding. She wasn't sure what she would say anyway, so she just held his gaze and took a sip of her drink.

Josh continued, "For a long time, I thought this is what I'm supposed to do. I've been doing it. Writing. Working with artists. Producing stuff I like. Stuff I feel good about. I got a publishing deal a few months ago. I wrote all this stuff. Great. Experimental. Fresh. No one wants it. But I..." JC stopped mid-sentence and occupied his attention on the flames of the fire pit. Nicole allowed the silence to hang in the air. "But somewhere along the way I just... lost it"

  "What do you mean, lost it?" Nicole finally felt compelled to speak up. 

"I don't know. I used to feel... Like, okay, this is it. I got this. I'm doin' what I love, and I'm good at it. I think I was happy. And now I feel..." JC took a while to finish his thought. He wasn't sure how to finish it. He took a small sip of his drink and stared at the brown alcoholic swirls playing around the large round ice cube. He took another longer drink and almost emptied the glass. And then it came to him, very suddenly and all at once. He knew why it was hard to finish his statement. It was because, "Now I feel absolutely nothing." He laughed a little after he verbalized it. It seems so obvious now. He looked to Nicole for some kind of response. When it didn't come, he smirked slightly and said, "First world problems, right?"

She shook her head. "I get it. But feeling nothing is better than fucking feeling all the things," she offered back. 

"Building walls, Nicole." He stood up suddenly, empty glass in hand. He reached for Nicole's now empty glass. "Another one?"

"Pot calling the kettle black aren't we?" She handed him her glass. 

"That's the problem. Feeling nothing. That's not living. That's numb."

"Comfortably numb," she quipped.

He shook his head. "In my experience, feeling nothing is worse than feeling all the things." He leaned down closer to her. "At least you know there's something, you know, there." He reached out and tapped two fingers on her chest over her heart. 

She responded with a roll of her eyes. 

"Be careful. They will get stuck up there," he smiled and walked back into the bar for a second round. 

***

After two more rounds, they decided to call it a night. They walked back to Nicole's apartment, and she forced him to come in. He wasn't really in a place to drive anyway. Her apartment was small but cozy. Pictures, art, and sports memorabilia covered almost every inch of the walls. JC's eyes were drawn immediately to a series of medals hanging in the entryway. Fifteen LA Marathon finisher medals hung from a silver rack that said "Girls Do it Better." It was a gift from her students. She explained to him that she runs the LA marathon annually with 40 students from her school. He passed the kitchen and noticed a prominent chalkboard wall with notes scribbled on it from floor to ceiling. The living room was large and open, with a window and balcony with a view of Downtown Long Beach's city lights. The walls were covered in art, none of which matched. JC spent time looking at each framed picture. The collection was full of photographs, paintings and drawings from talented former students, and photos she had taken or something interesting she collected from local artists in various cities she had travelled to. She had travelled to every continent, including Antarctica (and she had the pictures of penguins to prove it). JC was impressed. His eyes were eventually drawn to two guitars sitting in stands in the corner of the room. 

He gently fingered the strings on the acoustic guitar. "May I?" He asked her. 

"Sure." 

"I thought you didn't play music?" He smiled at her. 

"I don't. I mean, I can do a couple of notes, but I don't play. They aren't mine."

"Matt's?" He picked up the guitar and held it ready to play.

"No, Jason's."

JC immediately put the guitar back on the stand and took a step back. 

She laughed out loud. "It's fine! You can play it."

He looked at her questioningly, and tentatively picked it up again. "Yeah?"

Nicole patted her chest lightly, "No heart, remember." She turned quickly and headed for the kitchen. "You want some water?"

"Yeah, thanks." He replied as he took the guitar and sat with it on the ottoman. He strummed the guitar a few times, tuning it slightly. He eyed Nicole through the cut-out in the wall between the kitchen and the living room. She was busying herself pulling glasses down from a shelf. He played a few familiar chords, and softly sang, "Hello, Hello, Helloooo. Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?" 

Nicole turned sharply. "So Funny!" 

He confidently continued when he noticed her smirk. He continued playing and sang louder. He didn't take his eyes off of her. She pulled a pitcher of water out of the fridge and filled two glasses. She rolled her eyes when he refused to stop, which prompted him to play even louder. 

...I can't explain you would not understand

This is not how I am

I- I- I- I have become comfortably numb...

He finished the chorus with a flourish on the guitar. He stood up, placed the guitar back in the stand, and took the glass of water from her as she reentered the living room. 

"Don't be a dick." She handed him a glass. 

"I get it, self-preservation." He took a sip of water and continued, "I call them thought spirals. Sometimes it just spirals all the way down." His hand twisted in the air, mimicking a spiral motion.  "All the failures, all the fears, all the insecurities. Right? Just spiraling down into this pit of fucked up."

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre," Nicole replied absently, and took a slight step away from him.

"Things fall apart, the center cannot hold," He smiled and fixed his eyes on Nicole. "Yeats." He raised his eyebrows a few times, impressed with himself. He reached out and grabbed Nicole by the elbow to keep her from walking away. "I know some English teachery stuff too." He continued to lock his gaze on her, but she avoided his eyes. He leaned his face down closer to her, she could feel his breath as he added softly, "You watched the man you were going to marry die. That's a spiral straight into a pit of fucked up that I wouldn't want to go down, either. Comfortably numb is probably a victory." 

She shook her arm out of his grip and moved across the room to the couch and took a seat.

"You work tomorrow?" He asked her, changing the subject. 

"Yeah."

"I better go then, huh?" He looked down at his watch and added, "It's after one." 

"Yeah."

He finished his glass of water in one gulp, placed the empty glass on the coffee table and walked toward the door. 

She got up and followed him. "Thanks for the drinks," she said, and closed the door behind, locking it. She turned in a haze and walked toward her bedroom. She was tired, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't get any sleep. Too many thought spirals.