Date: Mon, 10 Mar 2014 22:04:02 +0100
From: Jayson Leigh <jmleighwrites@gmail.com>
Subject: Up Close and Personal - Chapter 3

UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
by
Jayson Leigh


This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locations,
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author retains
all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

Author's Note: Please keep the comments, thoughts and questions coming –
jmleighwrites@gmail.com. They make me happy :)



CHAPTER 3:

Crash and Burn

      Shane was reading the morning paper when his door burst open. "You
poor thing."

      He threw a wary look Jen's way. "What?"

      "I heard about Leo."

      Despite his wildly beating heart, he managed to ask calmly, "What are
you going on about?"

      "I heard you guys got ambushed with some shitty non-disclosure
contract."

      "Oh that, right."

      Jenny gave him a questioning look and he stared back at her blankly.

      "Well, how did it go? Do I have to drag it out of you? The man's a
rock god! Tell me what he's like in person."

      Shane shrugged, sipping coffee slowly to delay answering. "You should
watch the footage."

      "Between editing and sound mixing, I'll be spending way more time
than I care to with that footage. I'm talking about the juicy stuff behind
the scenes. Is he as much of a jerk as the media makes him out to be?"

      "He's not a jerk," Shane said before he could stop himself. What the
hell was wrong with him? Why was he defending Leo?

      "And...?" she asked, waving her hand for him to carry on.

      He tried to stall. "You know I did sign a non-disclosure-"

      "Bullshit. You had no problem talking about that time Tom Cruise-"

      He acquiesced irritably. "Okay, you got me. He's an asshole. Kept us
waiting over six hours. Doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything. But
he's so goddamn gorgeous, he'd screw you over and kick you to the curb
before you even realize what the fuck happened."

      Jenny's eyes widened. "Sounds like a real dick."

      "You wanted dirt."

      "Now is that real dirt or did you make it up?"

      "He's a rich, famous asshole. I don't have to make up shit about
him."

      "Hmm. Touchy, touchy," she murmured as she went to sit on the love
seat a short distance away from his desk. She wondered what was wrong with
her best friend; these days, he always seemed a tad defensive about
something. She reached into the deep crevice between the arm rest and her
seat to retrieve her candy stash. It was a no-brainer that she kept a stash
here since she spent more time in Shane's office than hers. No point
running back and forth between her place and his for a fix. She pulled out
a dark chocolate peppermint patty and returned the plastic bag back into
the crevice. Then she thought about it for a second and took another patty.

      "It's going to be bright and sunny this afternoon, low 70's, at
least. Do you want to do lunch?" She asked in between bites.

      Shane murmured something she didn't catch. After a moment, she
sighed. "I get the feeling Los Angeles didn't do what I hoped it would."

      "And that was?"

      "Well you've been near comatose since Drew left and I thought some
time away would do you good. But you've defied nature and returned from a
vacation looking even worse for wear."

      He folded the paper and smiled at her concern. "I'm fine, really. Jet
lag."

      "But what got you so tired anyway? You took an extra vacation day but
your tan's faded some, you obviously didn't get any sun out there, which
means you didn't hit the beaches or get laid by an awesome, surfer dude, am
I right or am I right?"

      "I most definitely didn't get laid by a surfer dude." I did fuck a
rock star, he added to himself. Wincing at the onslaught of memories, he
began gathering his things and prepared to head to the makeup room. He was
due on set shortly.

      Jenny watched her best friend. It pained her that his moodiness was
becoming a permanent fixture in his personality now. Frankly he was a bit
of an emotional mess, thanks to Drew, she thought darkly. She decided to
bring up something that ought to cheer him up.

      "I hear Bill's pretty ecstatic about the footage with Leo."

      Shane grunted in reply.

      "Our ratings are going to hit the roof."

      Silence.

      "There's already talk about Bill wanting another special on Leo later
in the season. Maybe at the end of his tour-"

      He panicked. "What? No!"

      "Why?"

      Shane looked away. He wasn't sure why, but he wasn't ready to tell
Jenny about his encounter with Leo. It was still too raw to relive it and
knowing his best friend as well as he did, she would make fun of him
falling for another asshole. He didn't want to deal with that right now.

      "I get that you think he's a jerk," Jenny said, "and you may not want
to work with him again, but it's not really your call to make. The
producers think-"

      "Fuck the producers. I'm not interviewing him again."

      "What the hell's going on?"

      Shane ran his hand nervously through his hair. "If you have any
influence with Trent or Bill, you'll tell them I can't do it."

      "Well, it's just a rumor. Nothing's been decided yet. It's up to the
producers to decide new content for the show and you know we don't get to-"

      "I'll call in my attorney in if I have to. I'm pretty sure there's a
clause in my contract that allows me decline assignments. I'll use it, I
swear I will."

      "Whoa, who said anything about attorneys? You're scaring me here."

      "I'm sorry. I can't explain, but I can't- I won't work with Leo
Malone again."

      "He can't be that bad?"

      He rolled his eyes. "He's worse. If Bill pushes another special on
Leo, I'll walk. I mean it."

      "That's between you, Bill and Trent. But remember, you were the one
pushing for edgy content."

      Shane kept silent, feeling himself stuck in one of those awkward
moments where the door you'd pushed open was coming back, full speed, to
hit you in the face.

      "You're going to have a hard time convincing them otherwise. I heard
Trent tell Bill in the break room that you two had real chemistry on
air. That at times you brought out a certain wistfulness and vulnerability
in Leo that the public hadn't seen yet."

      Shane resisted the urge to roll his eyes again.  He was pretty sure
what he brought out in Leo wasn't his vulnerability, but a fucking
hard-on. He opened the door to his office and tilted his head, "After you,
Jen."

      Jenny got the message and rose to her feet. She knew when she wasn't
wanted. "You did a good job out there and they're not just going to ignore
it."

      Shane slammed his door closed. "I'm so sick of getting fucked over by
everyone."

      Jen stared at him with a puzzled expression. "I don't even know what
that means..."  She watched him walk away and called out, "It's not like
he's the first Prima Donna you've ever met. You'd be fucking over everyone
on the show by declining a follow up with Leo Malone. You know what it'll
do to our ratings. Take one for the team, man."

       He didn't bother looking back, just muttered darkly to himself, "I
already it."



      ###



      "Honey, do these pants make me look fat?"

      "No, they're fine, like the last three pairs."

      "I think I prefer the red dress."

      "That was good too."

      "Just admit it, honey. I look like a cow in this, don't I?

      "No, you look great."

      "I don't like Japanese sizes. This pair's a size six. That's
impossible Just look at this body. Do I look like a six to you?"

      Leo sighed, hit pause on Temple Run and was treated to the sight of
Joni Sampson. Five feet, eleven inches tall, with waist length cascading
blonde hair, green eyes and a stunning pair of surgically enhanced
tits. Even soaking wet, she couldn't be more than a hundred and twenty
pounds.

      "I think I gained a few pounds overnight. I know I shouldn't have had
fish for dinner. Do you know fish makes you retain water? Alisa says it's
because they live in water. She's a model too but really smart, like she's
got a degree and a shit... or maybe a diploma... whatever... And that
croissant I split with you this morning? Oh God, that's what, like 25 grams
of carbs at least. I'm a fucking cow."

      Leo was stunned into silence. Then he began marveling at Joni's dual
ability to track the precise number of carbs in everything and to also
believe that fish made you retain water because of its habitat.

      "That's it," she said with finality. "No more food for me. I'm on a
diet. It's black coffee and Diet Coke from here on."

      He stifled a yawn and looked longingly at Guy Dangerous on his
tablet. He was used to at least one diet-related tirade every other
day. This was the dark side of dating supermodels. The weight insecurities,
the crash diets, the constant need for attention like they were on a
fucking runway all the time.

      "Babe," he began patiently. "You had one bite of croissant. Fish
doesn't make you retain water. You look great." Not that any of his
reassurances would make a difference. Joni had been modeling since she was
a child. Her insecurities, he'd long ago concluded, were unshakeable and
vital for success in her career.

      She twirled in front of the mirror with a pout on her pretty
face. "You really think so, honey? These jeans look good?"

      "Sure." She could've been wearing a sack and his answer would've been
the same. He'd programed himself to the perfect way to handle her
tantrums. Agree, approve then make a speedy exit. He walked over to her and
cupped her face in his two hands, then kissed her lightly on her forehead.

      She lifted her head, trying to offer her lips to him, but he
instinctively dropped his hands and took a step backwards.

      "Hey, what's wrong, honey?"

      "Nothing," He took a few more steps back and thought of a lie
quickly. "I don't want to start something I can't finish; you know we're in
public."

      Lifting a perfectly tweezed brow in protest, Joni replied, "Well,
that never stopped you before. Besides, we're in the dressing room, no
one's going to barge in here... even if they tried, Jake's standing outside
so they couldn't get in."

      Leo inwardly cursed her unusually well-reasoned answer. "What if
they've got cameras?"

      "Don't be silly, Leo," She said as she took a step closer to him. "No
one's got cameras in dressing rooms. They could get sued."

      He wondered when she'd gotten so smart.

      Glancing at his watch, an idea came to him. "Look at the time. I told
you they needed me back on set for the commercial shoot. I should be
leaving now."

      "Oh, you didn't say that. It's just a three minute commercial, why do
they need so much of your time, anyway? You shot all day yesterday and this
morning."

      Leo shrugged. "I just do as I'm told."

      Joni stuck out her lips in an exaggerated pout that didn't look half
as attractive as she thought. "I thought we were going to dinner? Not, that
I'm going to eat, but we should go out, do something..."

      "Can't, sorry. You spent all out time shopping and now I've gotta
go."

      "If you'd told me we had so little time together, I wouldn't have
tried on all these clothes. I don't need any of them... Well maybe the
jeans, and the dresses and you can never have too many shoes... I'm done
now so I could come along, hang out on set, maybe squeeze in some alone
time-?"

      "No," Leo said, with a little more force than he'd intended. "You'll
be a distraction. You know how it is, you shouldn't be there." She was
trying his fucking patience. If he couldn't get her to back off politely,
he'd have Jake remove her. He didn't know what was going on, but he'd
suddenly lost all desire to be around her.

      "What am I to do?" she whined. "I'll be so bored. I don't know anyone
in Tokyo. No one speaks English..."

      Leo thrust his hand in his jacket and pulled out a number of credit
cards. He handed her the black American Express. That ought to withstand
the damage she would inflict on it.

      Her face lit up once she caught sight of the exclusive card. He knew
the argument was over. She seized the card quite eagerly from his
fingertips and flung herself into his arms. "Honey, you're the best!" she
cried happily.

      Leo patted her naked back awkwardly. He could tell she was eager for
any intimacy with him and he let her lips find his, pressing against him
insistently. He allowed her prolong the kiss for a moment then gently
untangled himself from her. He stepped out of reach quickly and headed to
the door.

      "Wait," he heard her say. He glanced back and saw she was still
clutching the credit card but had a somewhat worried look on her face.

      "Am I doing anything wrong?" She asked uncertainly and with a look of
longing. "You've barely touched me since we got here...?"

      Leo tried to smile but found that he couldn't bring himself to lie to
her any more. He settled on an awkward grimace and left the room.



      ###



      The anonymity he enjoyed here in Tokyo was a huge relief. Besides the
huge publicity event at the airport on his arrival, he'd invisible. The
narrow, crowded streets of Tokyo reminded him that he was a world away from
the States where it was never far from his mind that every move he made was
being captured to be analyzed on a gossip blog or entertainment show.

      The walk back to the hotel was short and uneventful. He turned back
to Jake, asking, "Could you go back to the mall and keep Joni company?"

      Jake made a face. "Seriously, boss?"

      It wasn't a request and they both knew it. Still, his relationship
with Jake had thus far outlived any with a woman and he knew he was asking
a lot of the 6ft 2in, 250-pound former defensive lineman. Jake was a former
college athlete who'd blown out his knee in his sophomore, a year before he
hoped to enter the NFL Draft. He'd dropped out of the college soon after
and began working as a bouncer and bodyguard for various celebrities. Leo
had met him at party and the rest was history.

      "Keep her away from me. I need some time alone. Make sure she hits
every boutique in the city and say her ass looks great in everything."

      The bodyguard cracked a smile. "Sure, boss. But you owe me one."

      Leo patted his shoulder in agreement.



      ###



      Three shots of Patron were all he needed to get going. Before long,
he'd scribbled down a page of lyrics. Another shot, and then another, and
another.

      His definition of sobriety was flexible. He hadn't totally sworn off
alcohol. Being sober now just meant he'd finally learned his limits. When
he noticed that he'd gone almost halfway through the bottle of tequila in a
very short time, he screwed the top back on and returned it to the bar. It
didn't help that the swanky hotel rooms he shacked up in had full sized
bottles of liquor. Christ, he thought, looking at the array of drinks of
display, there was enough alcohol in his suite for a frat party.

      He looked at the lyrics he'd written, and frankly, they weren't very
good. He rarely did his best work under the influence. He'd have to show
them to Ray later, maybe he'd be able to turn into something good. He'd had
this riff in mind for some time now.  He wasn't sure if it was the end or
the beginning, the chorus or the verse. All it was right now, was a small
piece that needed to played over and over until it became something.

      With his custom Les Paul firmly in hand, he let the music flow
through him. This was the best part, when he could just let it rip like a
fucking jet stream. He slowed it down, then sped it up until it
transitioned into a progression of chords. Eventually, it would became
something harmonious and the piece would become part of a whole song.

      He felt powerful and in control when creating music. He understand
what he was on earth to do, and his existence had meaning. He played the
melody over and over, until it became a part of him. He got lost in it for
a long time, until his fingers went numb.

      Then he was able to breathe again.

      He put down the guitar, satisfied. Almost two hours had gone by
already.  Picking up his notebook with lyrics, he left his room and went
down the hall to the nearest room. He banged on the door loudly and heard a
woman giggle. A male voice yelled, "Who the fuck is it?"

      Oops wrong room.

      "Dave, I'm looking for Ray."

      "Oh, second room to the left."

      He called out his thanks but the words were drowned out by the
woman's squeal. He walked away and made for what he hoped was Ray's room.

      "Hey man, you in there?"

      Silence and then, "Leo?"

      "Yeah."

      More silence and then soft padded footsteps approached the door. He
heard the lock turn and the door was flung open.

      "You're making me miss the best part."

      "Best part of what?"

      Ray's answer got drowned by a loud explosion coming from the
television. Leo got there just in time to see Alan Rickman snarling,
"Yippie ki-yay, motherfucker," before aiming a gun at Bruce Willis.

       "I'm going to be here all night. They've the Die Hard trilogy on
on-demand."

      "Aren't there what, like five movies now?" Leo asked as he settled
down on the end of the sofa and looked at his band mate.

      "Nah, the rest are kind of shitty," Ray said. "I prefer to stay
ignorant about their existence." Despite being older than Leo, he looked
like a kid playing dress up in a white tank top at least two sizes too
small, oversized cargo shorts and white crew socks pulled up to knees. His
spiky mohawk was dyed black and purple and he had nose, tongue and eyebrow
piercings as well as myriad tattoos covering his arms and chest.

      "What are you doing here? I bet you're hiding from that stunning
piece of ass you brought with you."

      "Fuck you, Raymond," Leo responded without any heat.

      Ray grinned and got off the couch to head to the bedroom. He came
back out with a box which he opened before tossing something at Leo who
caught it.

      A Cuban cigar. He sniffed it appreciatively. "Cohiba?"

      Ray grinned. "You know it."

      He waited for Ray to finish up, then took the stainless steel cutter
from him and trimmed between the first two lines of the cigar. He held the
lighter to the tip for several seconds then settled back and chomped
heartily on the cylindrical tube. Ray was drinking from a bottle of
Jameson's and offered it to him. He was tempted, sorely, but took a few
seconds to consider. "I'm good."

      Ray shrugged and took a swig. "Your loss."

      They watched Hans Gruber fall to his death in silence until Leo
asked, "So Dave's in there with someone?"

      "I think he picked up the hairstylists at the shoot."

      "No shit. Two of them?"

      "Yeah, they're twins. It's kinda hot."

      Leo hummed. He'd had twins before. It was kinda hot. "So how's it
going with Tara?"

      "We're good, I guess."

      "You guess?"

      Ray hiccupped. "She's talking about moving in together. I don't know
about that... I'm too young for that commitment shit. I say if it ain't
broke, don't fix it, right?"

      Leo said nothing, retrieving the remote from his friend's hand. With
a near empty bottle of whisky in hand, he wasn't sure Ray had the wits or
coordination required to order up the movie's sequel. He considered
skipping Die Hard 2. It was the weakest one in his opinion. He confirmed
the third movie as his selection. Ray probably wouldn't even notice.

      He turned to his friend, "You've been together two years?"

      Ray squinted at him with his silvery grey eyes as he took a
particularly large swill of whiskey. "Yeah, something like that."

      "Do you love her?"

      He shrugged. "Sure. I mean, the sex is fucking great. And she doesn't
give me shit when I go off with other chicks. She gets me, you know? If I
had to settle down, I guess she'd be the one, but damn, living together
changes things. You know girls..." He feigned an atrocious high pitched
tone, "I put dinner on the table since 6 o'clock, where are you? You'd
better come home right now!"

      Leo laughed at Ray's absurd voice. "That'd only happen if you were
married to a fifties housewife."

      "Hey, so get this. Last Halloween, Tara dressed up like one of those
housewives, right? Only she wears the apron and she's got nothing on under
it. I swear, tits and ass hanging out and she's cooking like it's totally
normal. Christ, I couldn't get enough of her that night. Took her from
behind right there next to the pasta boiling on the stove... I think we
ended up with takeout for dinner."

      Leo feigned a smile, wondering when Ray had become kind of a
douche. As he settled back to watch the movie, he wondered what he sounded
like when he talked about the women in his life. In a short while, he heard
a soft snore, and realized Ray had fallen asleep. The movie wasn't holding
his attention either, so he got up and settled Ray more comfortably on the
couch, making sure his head was positioned firmly on the arm, so he
wouldn't wake up later with a crick in his neck.

      He was reluctant to leave the room. He was sure Joni would be back by
now and despite his best efforts to forget aquamarine blue eyes, he just
couldn't. Besides, who would forget the best blowjob ever? It didn't take a
genius to tell him what he had to do next.


      ###


      Joni sat at the dresser staring at herself. She had a blemish forming
on her left cheek which she'd convinced herself was the result of the one
bite of croissant she'd had for breakfast. In the mirror's reflection, she
saw Leo pacing around the room with a cigarette in hand.

      "I saved you a few lines," she said, pointing at the neat columns of
cocaine by her elbow.

      Leo glanced at it before saying shortly, "I'm good."c

      "You know, honey," she began as she rolled up the trusty 100 dollar
bill she kept in her purse for this purpose, "maybe if you'd just get in
bed, I could work off that tension. I brought that almond massage oil you
like." With several deep snorts, she inhaled the two lines of white powder
then dabbed at her nose delicately. "What was that honey?"

      "You know I don't do that shit anymore."

      She shrugged and wiped the counter with her finger, then licked it
with her tongue. "Yeah and you said you were sober but I walked in here and
the room was reeking of alcohol."

      A short silence, then "That's different..."

      "If you say so, honey." Then for lack of anything else to say, she
added, "Now how about dinner?"

      "Thought you were on a diet?"

      She threw him an amused look. "Not me, silly. I meant for you."

      "I'm not hungry."

      She nodded as she began the arduous process of examining every inch
of perfect skin on her face. It was important to know if any lines or
wrinkles had appeared recently. It'd been a month since her last Botox
injection and she was sure she was due for another.

      "Are we still going out tonight?" she asked when the room got too
quiet for her liking. "The concierge downstairs suggested a few clubs. One
of them sounds really good; it's a burlesque theme. You'd like that."

      "Sure, whatever," Leo muttered, unaware of what he was agreeing
to. He was lost in memories of waking up a few nights ago feeling
particularly pleased with himself and very satisfied. He knew he'd just had
a great night. The room was unfamiliar and he'd looked sideways to the
figure asleep beside him. The warm, fuzzy feeling disappeared
immediately. Seeing was believing but right at that moment, he couldn't
fucking believe what he'd just done. He'd let his cock do the thinking
instead of his brain. He had no excuse, being neither stoned nor drunk.

      Shane's face had been innocent in sleep, those blue eyes hidden,
thank God. Then it'd occurred to him that he was thinking another man
looked beautiful. What the hell was happening? If those blue eyes fluttered
open now, what would he say? They had nothing in common. It'd all been a
big mistake. Then Shane rolled over, the sheets pulling away from him and
he'd got another look of those pink nipples, tight abs and narrow hips. His
cock had stirred and before he thought too hard about it, he'd jumped right
in again.

      Shane had been so responsive, even half asleep; spreading his legs
wide for Leo to settle in between, letting out soft breathy moans to urge
him on and rolling his hips deeply, giving as good as he got as Leo ground
their cocks together. They'd both come in record time and a flash of
aquamarine and a gentle smile had him wanting to stay the rest of the
night. But as soon as Shane fell asleep once more, he'd panicked and done
what any coward would do when spooked, he'd fled.

      He'd had to get as far away from Shane Roderick. The trip to Japan to
shoot a cell phone commercial was the perfect getaway and taking Joni with
him, well that had been a last minute stroke of genius... at the time. He'd
needed to affirm his masculinity. His heterosexuality was in question and
Joni was the perfect answer. Now he knew better. He didn't want her. He'd
been growing bored with her for some time now and finally, something better
had come along. Shane Roderick and his sinful mouth was exactly what he
needed now. Fuck his sexuality. He wanted what he wanted.

      It was easier to analyze his feelings for Shane when he was thousands
of miles away from him. Nothing really made sense to him, but he was sure
about exactly one thing. He wanted to see him again. What he felt for him
were too strong to ignore and he knew Shane felt the same way, judging from
his response to him that night. He wasn't used to ignoring strong
feelings. As a musician, he understood passion and instinct. They guided
him and he lost himself in them. He knew they could lead to great and
beautiful things. So why the fuck would he walk away from someone who
brought out those things in him?

      "Joni," he said decisively. "We need to talk."

      It wasn't pretty and as he ducked a sailing red stiletto aimed at his
head, he realized that the situation was getting dangerous, too.

      "I hate you!"  Joni yelled with mascara stained tears streaming down
her face. "You had to bring me all the way to Japan for this? Fuck you,
Leo." With that, she slammed the bathroom door shut.

      "That went well," he said to the empty room. While she'd been a tad
too dramatic, in his opinion, he couldn't help but feel like a jerk.


      ###


      Saturday afternoon, and Shane was still in bed. He wasn't sleeping;
hadn't been sleeping much to be honest. It was a beautiful day outside, but
the bright sunshine only brought back memories of Los Angeles. Closing his
eyes and huddling deeper into the pile of comforters over him, he struggled
to keep images of Leo from flooding his mind.

      He gripped his phone, tightly in hand, and stared at a text message
from his friend, Dominic. It was a photo of Dom and his husband, Rowan,
with their four-year old son on a sailboat out in Montauk. Wish you were
here, Dominic wrote.

      Me too, Shane thought wistfully. He wished he had something even
close to what Dominic had with his perfect little family. He hated feeling
sorry for himself, despised how much he'd been whining lately. He was just
thinking about what to do to get out of the dumps when he heard his front
door buzzer go off.

      He wasn't expecting anyone, and wasn't in the mood to buzz in
neighbors who'd forgotten their keys. Perhaps if he ignored it, the person
would go away. The ring however became more insistent and Shane slowly got
out of bed. Screw security. He didn't even hit the talk button to ask who
was there; just pushed the door button until he was sure a whole fucking
herd of wild animals would have had enough time to enter his building.

      He was stomping back to his bedroom when someone pounded on his front
door. Maybe the neighbor coming to say thanks? Or that book from Amazon
finally being delivered? He went back and took a look through the
peephole. Opening the door quickly, he said, "Jen!"

      "Hey, there," she muttered, her eyes covered by oversized dark
shades.

      "What are you doing here?"

      She stretched out her hands, and offered him a white paper
bag. "Peace offering. It's Thai, your favorite."

      "Thanks, come on in."

      She walked in and pushed the sunglasses to the top of her
head. "Look, I don't know what went down in the interview with Leo Malone
and it's none of my business what the producers want you to do so I'm sorry
for-"

      "No, don't apologize. You're my best friend. My business is your
business." He smiled, "That's how we roll, right? I've just been in a
shitty mood lately... I'm the one who should apologize."

      She sighed with obvious relief. "Okay, we're both jerks."

      "Yeah." He took a few steps closer to her and wrapped his arms around
her.

      "I miss you," she said, snuggling up to him.

      "Me too."

      "Are you keeping things from me, Roderick?"

      Shane winced, trying not to lie outright. "My love life sucks."

      Jenny hummed. "That makes two of us."

      She stepped out of the embrace and tugged at his pyjamas
bottoms. "Still in bed at 2:00 pm on a Saturday? That's pathetic, even for
you."

      He grinned. "And you're still wearing the same clothes you had on
yesterday."

      Jenny's eyes widened comically. "You noticed? Jeez."

      "Spill."

      Jenny snatched the paper bag out of his hand on her way to the
kitchen. "I met someone last night," she said mysteriously. She went into a
drawer to retrieve a fork for herself then dug into a carton of drunken
noodles. "Oh you know that thing you taught me?" she said to her best
friend.

      "What thing?"

      She sighed in exaggerated frustration. "Shane, we've been friends for
nine years now. In that time, you've taught me one, no make that two
things."

      "Seriously?"

      "Yup and they're both about blowjobs."

      Shane stifled his laughter until he'd swallowed the jumbo prawn in
his mouth and then he let out a loud chuckle. "Well that's two more than
you ever taught me."

      She shrugged. "This guru's door is always open."

      He looked skeptical. "Guru Jen, sure has a nice ring to it." He added
a few moments after, "Thanks for lunch. I was starving."

      "You're welcome. I figured if you weren't going to let me in, a bag
of Thai Basil's finest would probably change your mind." She put down the
box of noodles and took another one filled with steamed dumplings.

      "You look terrible." Shane observed.

      "Woke up with a bit of a hangover."

      "So what's this about my blowjob tips coming in handy?"

      She bit down on her lip, and poked into another carton of crispy
beef.

      "Come on, spill it out."

      "So I worked late last night. Felt kind of shitty with the way we
left things and well, let's just say when you throw alcohol into a mix of
tired, bored and shitty, things happen."

      "Things like what?" Shane persisted.

      "Like sleeping with the new sound engineer?" Jenny admitted
reluctantly.

      "Mark? You slept with Mark? You go, girl. He's quite a catch."

      "Blame it on the alcohol," she said despondently. "You shouldn't
leave me alone when I'm feeling shitty... or when you're feeling shitty
too. We should be shitty together. It's all your fault. This is what
happens when you let me drink alone."

      Shane shook his head in mock sadness. "Sounds like you could have
used some help from Guru Jen."

      She threw a fortune cookie at him.

      "So," Shane said after a beat, "Are you two dating now?"

      "Eww, gross. I don't date guys from work."

      "Yeah, I forgot about you and your rules."

      She smiled. "A girl's got to have principles."

      Shane faked a cough.

      "I do too," she protested. "Now, I admit they're fluid and constantly
changing, but you know, that's a good thing. My principles about sex and
dating change because the universe adapts, so I adapt too... and if I don't
adapt, I'd be dead, and if I'm dead, I'd have no principles, then where
would I be?"

      Shane made a snorting sound.

      "Yeah, I know," she agreed after a brief pause. "I thought I had
something but I kept going and I lost my train of thought..."

      Shane dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "You lost me when you started
talking about the universe..."

      She chuckled. "I'll work on it."

      "So Mark was great in the sack?"

      "Well, let's just say he's quite skilled, orally, if you know what I
mean..."

      "That good, huh?"

      "Yeah," She said, smiling at first and then frowning. "But it can't
happen again."

      Shane was familiar with Jenny's aversion to relationships lasting
longer than a night or two. "You're going to see him every day."

      "I know that's why I'm kind of pissed that I let it happen."

      "You know, your principles would've come in real handy last night. I
bet you Guru Jen-"

      She cut him off pointedly. "Quit while you're ahead."

      He smiled and put an arm around her as they departed the
kitchen. "What's really the problem with Mark?"

       She covered her face with her two hands. "He's my co-worker and he's
older than anyone else I've ever been with. I'd be embarrassed to be seen
out and about with him."

      "Huh, I didn't think you had one embarrassed bone in your body."

      She punched him hard and pushed his arm off her shoulder. "There are
rules against inter-office dating at Up Close and Personal."

      "No, there're not. You just made that up. Next."

      She pouted as she sat down next to him and admitted quietly, "The age
thing bothers me, to be honest. He's 42, he's got fourteen years on me."

      Shane replied patiently "First of all, you're thirty three, so he's
got nine years on you."

      She gave him a withering look. Besides her parents, sister and those
in the HR department, Shane was probably the only other person who knew her
true age.

      "You're within the ten year gap which I think is totally
normal. Here's how I see it. A ten year age difference is okay. Ten to
twenty's weird but okay, too. Now anything over twenty's creepy and over
thirty years is just plain criminal."

      She gave him an amused look. "You've given that some thought, I
see..."

      He smiled sheepishly. "Remember the European aristocrat we had on the
show last season...?"

      "The French one with the insane collection of antique cars?"

      "He was from Monaco," Shane corrected, "but yeah, him..."

      "What about him?"

      "He hit on me after the show, said age was nothing but a number."

      "Hmm," Jenny said thoughtfully. "What was his number?"

      "Seventy three."

      She giggled. "That my dear, isn't just a number. It's a fucking prime
number, if you know what I mean..."

      Shane laughed along with her. "Drew thought it was fucking hilarious,
but it got me thinking, just how old was too old?"

      "And thirty's the magic number for you?"

      "I guess so..."

      "So right now, you'd date a fifty nine year old?"

      He gave it some thought. "Why not? I admit, it's still kind of
borderline criminal in my opinion, but yeah, if he looked like, say, George
Clooney, why not?"

      Jenny rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I'm pretty sure everyone would
date George Clooney at any age."

      "Okay, maybe I'd be really picky..."

      "Interesting," Jenny sighed. "I don't think it's Mark's age I've a
problem with. It's just... I think he might be looking for something more
serious."

      "And that's a problem, because?"

      "I've been married once and that's enough," she replied
defiantly. "No offence, but look at you and Drew. He turned out to be a
fucking nightmare. Take my advice and ditch love. It's so not worth it."

      "Don't say that," Shane told her.

      "It makes you do stupid things. Like you, here, waiting for Drew... I
think love is boring. Boring and overrated. It's a transient burst of
perfect passion that no one gets to keep forever. Death,
divorce... something always ends it. Did you ever notice how all the great
love stories are sad and tragic and short? Romeo and Juliet? Mark-Anthony
and Cleopatra?  They all did incredibly stupid things in the name of love
and they suffered for it. I don't want to lose my head over some guy... I'd
rather be happy as a clam, alone."

      Shane said nothing. Jenny had a way of analyzing things that was so
spot one. Christ, and she hadn't even heard about his night with Leo
Malone. Knowing Jen, she would eviscerate him without mercy. He decided to
save that story for another day.

      Maybe one of their Friday night drinking games; never have I ever
fucked a rock star... he sure as fuck couldn't drink to that.

      He leaned over and ruffled her loose red curls. "Despite what you
think, I'm not stupid. I can take care of myself."

      "Said the cute little bunny right before the big bad wolf came and
gobbled him up."

      Shane stayed quiet for a few moments. Jenny words had once again hit
dangerously close to home. He didn't like it so he changed the
subject. They spent the next hour chatting away idly.

      "You've got precisely one hundred and thirty freckles on your face,"
Shane observed.

      Jenny lifted her head off his lap with righteous indignation, "I do
not. There are fewer, far fewer."

      "Nope, I just counted."

      "There're only eighty-six."

      He laughed at her. "You actually know how many freckles you've got? I
just threw a number out there. I started counting but gave up..."

      "Do you know freckles were once the bane of my existence? When I was
in the third grade, Bobby Lee Jones called me a freckled carrot with a
million spots. Could you believe that kid? So I went home, sat in front of
the mirror and counted my freckles."

      "And...."

      "I went back and punched him right in the honker in front of the
whole class. Told him I had only sixty eight. I might have underestimated a
little bit."

      Shane laughed and kissed her freckled forehead lightly. "Good for
you."

      "Oh man," she said, glancing at her watch. "I've got to head to
work."

      "Why? It's Saturday."

      Jenny sat up and pulled her sneakers back on to her feet. "Bill's
called a meeting with the network executives. You know they're concerned
about our numbers and ratings? Well he's planned a viewing of your
interview with Leo Malone. He thinks once they see we've got Emmy-worthy
material-"

      Shane arched an eyebrow in surprise, "Emmy-worthy?"

      Jenny nodded. "It's going to be one of your submissions. You and Leo
just may win us one this year. Well, anyway, Bill's hoping the network
eases off once they see it. We can't afford any more layoffs as it is. I'm
just going on in to supervise some technical work, that's all."

      Shane didn't say much after that. He knew he couldn't have a rational
conversation about anything concerning Leo Malone now. The thought of the
interview made him ill; and now the possibility that the Emmy award he and
his Up Close and Personal team so desperately craved could come as a result
of that interview made it even worse.

      He hugged Jenny good bye at the door and returned to the kitchen to
clean up the empty take out boxes. He was just considering the merits of
storing an almost empty carton of Pad Thai, when he thought he heard a
scurrying sound in the living room.

      At first, he thought nothing of it. Wind, perhaps, blowing the window
blinds. He felt so much better after spending time with his best friend. He
even felt happy enough to hum one of Celine Dion's songs to himself when he
suddenly heard a high pitched yelp behind him.

      He whirled around to find two small brown eyes staring at him, black
bat ears standing upright and a wrinkled forehead framing a black muzzled
snout. He approached the small pug slowly. Once he'd picked her up, he
could almost swear she'd gained at least a few pounds since he'd last held
her. He walked slowly to the living room where he heard more sounds.

      So many thoughts were circling through his head, but he couldn't
really focus on any of them. The dog whined then leaned up to lick his
nose.

      He paused in the door way to watch the figure leaning against the
dining table. He was just an inch taller than Shane's 5ft 10in, but he
always looked considerably taller because of his slim runner's build. He
was casually dressed in a grey sweater and blue jeans. His chocolate brown
hair was much longer now. Long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail,
although a few tendrils fell carelessly around his ears. He was clean
shaven, but scratched carelessly at his jaw as if he'd just shaved
recently.

      As he turned to throw a glance behind him, a diamond glinted in one
ear. "I see I've got a ton of mail here," he said to Shane casually, like
they were continuing a conversation.

      "About three months' worth."

      He returned his attention to the pile of envelopes stacked neatly on
the dining table. He worked quickly, ripping some in two without even a
second glance while perusing others carefully and pushing them into another
pile.

      Shane didn't speak. Just watched him do his thing until finally, he
pushed all the envelopes aside and turned around to give him his full
attention.

      "Jasmine found you," he said with a small smile. "She missed you."

      Shane said nothing for a few moments then set Jasmine down
gently. "Drew, what do you want?" he asked.

      He smiled, wide and charming, then said confidently, "You."



      ###



      Leo heaved his guitar case more securely on his shoulder as he walked
through the airport lounge following Jake who was pushing a luggage cart
ahead of him. The band had gone their separate ways as soon as they'd come
off the plane, eager to spend time with their families before the tour
began this weekend. He ignored the eyes following his exit and hoped he
would make it out of there without too much attention.

      A black SUV pulled up at the entrance and Jake proceeded to load it
up. He tried to pull Leo's guitar case off his back, Leo gave him a dirty
look.

      "Do you remember what happened the last time you put my case in the
trunk?"

      Jake grinned easily. "That wasn't me boss."

      "Yeah, whatever," Leo replied as he stepped into the car. He glanced
to the back where Jake was still loading up. "Where's Paul?"

      Jake motioned his head in the direction of the airport, "Maybe still
in there, or he might've taken another exit."

      Leo sat up in surprise, "He's not coming with us?"

      "Talked about his wife and kids the entire plane ride back. Probably
half way home by now."

      He tried calling Paul but heard two beeps and the call ended. He
glanced at his phone and realized the battery had gone dead. It hadn't been
charged in days. He turned to Jake. "Can I borrow your phone?"

      "Sure thing."

      He soon got Paul on the line. "What's Shane Roderick's number?" he
asked, not even trying to be subtle about it.

      "What is it with you and him-?"

      "Just do as you're told, Paul," he said abruptly. He wasn't in the
mood to explain himself.

       "Give me a sec."

      He had the number a few moments later but just as he was about to end
the call, he heard the tail end of Paul's words, "...told him you were
heading to Tokyo."

      Leo put the phone back to his ear. "What?"

      "I said Shane Roderick called the morning we left for looking for
your number..."

      "Why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

      "What's it to you? I'm your manager. I handle your publicity."

       "Fine. What did he say?"

      "Something about wanting to ask follow up questions. It was some
god-awful hour so I just said I'd get in touch this week."

      "That's all you said?"

      "It's all I remember..."

       "Don't fuck with me..." Leo warned.

      "Yeah, that's it."

      He took in a deep breath. "Okay, I've got to go." He stuck a
cigarette in his mouth and tried to light it. Oh fuck, he couldn't even get
his hands around his lighter because they were shaking so much. He had a
sinking feeling he'd screwed up real bad.

      What had Shane thought when he realized Leo hadn't just bailed on
him, but left the country as well? Fuck, he couldn't delay any longer, he
had to call Shane now. Had to explain to him that he'd made a stupid, rash
decision and didn't mean anything by it.

      He closed his eyes and conjured up the image of Shane and those
bright blue eyes looking at him like he was something worth having. It was
motivation enough.

      The phone rang out the first time and went into voice mail. He called
back again, determined to keep calling until Shane answered.

      "Hello?"

      His mouth was dry. He couldn't form any words.

      "Anyone there?"

      The voice sounded different. "Shane?" he asked uncertainly.

      "No, it's Drew. Who's this?"

      In the background, Leo heard another voice call out, "Drew, is that
my phone? Who is it?" That was Shane. His Shane.

      "Baby, I don't know. Give me a sec." The voice came back louder,
speaking to Leo this time. "Okay, who's this?"

      Leo snarled. "Who the hell are you?"

      The person let out an amused snort of laughter. "I'm Drew, Shane's
boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?"

      Leo inhaled sharply and ended the call.

      Fuck.

      His call had come too fucking late.