"Cheers, Kev."

Clang.

It was just us two left. Abbey had to work at the museum tomorrow, Eric and Randy had passed out on top of each other, and Julie had gone back to my apartment early. You really gotta give it up for her, now this was a woman who followed her instincts. Within days of our first "date" together Julie packed everything from her place with Brady Frances and moved in with me. Not that you could blame her or anything, the whole "romance doesn't exist" thing has got to be a huge turn-off when you're a chick. I'm not sure how Brady is doing now; Julie says he's doing fine at work and that she still talks to him a lot, but he hasn't returned our calls. Specifically, mine or Kevin's. I guess he has his reasons, after all it's not often that your social life gets screwed over by by the same group of people twice.

"I'm really doing it, aren't I?" I asked suddenly.

Kevin looked up, a bit drunk himself. "What?"

"I mean...I'm really doing it. I'm taking that risk we're always talking about. The big one. I'm really...stepping..."

"Out on the line?" Kevin finished for me.

"Yeah. I mean tomorrow...I'm getting on that plane...and everything's gonna be different. It's either gonna work out or it isn't, and..."

Kevin smiled his lazy smile. "You scared?"

I made a face at him. "Scared? Me? Hell no."

"You sure?"

"No." I confessed. "I'm scared as shit, Kev. How can I not be?...How did it feel for you, Kev?"

"How did what feel?"

"Taking that risk. I mean you think about it so much, and then you finally do it...isn't it a little freaky? I mean I always ragged on you for never taking a chance, and really...I was the one scared shitless."

Kevin rolled his eyes. Which was quite an impressive sight because face it, the boy has got huge eyes. "You were never the lame doof that I was, Rod."

"I know, but...I dunno, maybe I was. For the important stuff I mean. I mean I was never shy or anything, but...I dunno."

"Well, if you really need to know, it felt great."

I nodded.

"It was like...I was finally doing something. Conquering something." He laughed. "Just printing out the copies of those flyers was one of the most liberating moments of my life. God, I really am a doof."

"I could have told you that, Kev."

"And you did. A lot. Look, Rod," he struggled with the words, "It's what you want, isn't it? What you truly want, deep down. What you've alway wanted."

"Yeah...for ever."

"Well, that's all you need to know. You'll do great, Rod."

"Thanks, man." At a lost for anything else to say or do, I checked the time. "I should probably be getting back, Julie's waiting."

"And hey," Kevin said just I was getting up. I paused, and he spread his arms, "You're always welcome back here."

"Welcome back to TRL!"

As Carson and The Mick went on about whatever it is they were talking about before the commercial break, I twisted uncomfortably. The shirt was too tight. You'd think that for something that showed so much, it'd be a little less restricting, but noooooooo...

The screams were deafening, even as I waited backstage. The studio must be packed, after all The Mick is there. He was gonna introduce me. I gulped. Now why is it that I was so scared again? Oh yeah, this is why. I had to feel a little weirded out by it all. I mean okay, I am not afraid of a crowd. I mean...I'm Rod. This was me, what I did. I've done it forever and I'm sure not gonna stop anytime soon. But it was just...wow. I couldn't help but feel like I'm doing something wrong, like there's something I should fix before I went on, like I'd never be prepared...

"Rod, what are you waiting for? You're on!"

I blinked. What? Now? I didn't even hear them announce my name!

"Get out there!"

I took a large breath, choked on the cold air, cleared my throat, and stepped into the studio.

Man oh man.

Yeah I was still a little weirded out. I mean this is live TV. But man, seeing and hearing all those people cheer me on, the lights and the crowd, and that made all the difference. I snapped out of the funk and I was me again. It was just...the familiarity. The feeling of the attention, it just brought me back. It was like being home, back at the bar, and it made all the crap for the last month worth it. The rush!

So of course I didn't see the single cord line in front of me and tripped on it, falling flat on my face. Ouch.

Dead silence. Well, it was cool while it lasted.

I quickly struggled up back onto my feet. "I'm okay! I'm okay!"

Somehow the laughter that came to my ears after that didn't quite feel the same as it did back home.

The Mick was quite possibly the most amused of us all. "Give it up for my boy Rod!"

"Well, that's certainly gonna make for one of our most memorable entrances in TRL history." Carson declared, laughing along.

"Heh heh. Yeah," I managed some weak chuckles as I got by his side. I noticed both him and The Mick making some oddly raised eyebrows at my shirt, and I made a point to keep my back away from the cameras.

"So Rod," Carson decided to change the subject, bless his soul, "How does it feel to be the very first artist to be signed to Silver Records, The Mick's very first record label?"

The audience started to cheer, God knows why, and Mick started to wave to them. Confused, I did the same. The applause died down. Ooookay.

How does it feel? It feels awesome. It's the biggest thing that ever happened to me, and it's the thing I always wanted. I'm so excited. I can't wait to get my first track out, so I can listen to it with everyone and say, "This is what I do for a living!" and I wish that everyone could feel the same way that I do and...

"It feels great!" I replied out loud.

"Cool," Carson stated, very businesslike. "Anything you want to say while you're here in the TRL studio?"

This I can do. "Yeah! I wanna give a shout-out to my boys back in Chicago, you guys rock, and just to say to my girl Julie that I l-"

"Cool," Carson cut me off in mid-word and turned back to The Mick, "So what is it about Rod here that convinced you to sign him?"

"Well Carson," he responded with the same tone of business, "The Mick felt that the kid has a lot of passion, see, The Mick can see that in people. The Mick saw that the kid has what it takes and The Mi..."

Pffffffffft.

Dead silence. Every single eye in the studio turned to me.

Oh God, no. I shut my eyes and lips tight. I swear my heart stopped beating altogether for a few seconds right there.

"Did I hear what I think I just heard??" Carson asked, bewildered. Then he shook his head fast and regained whatever composure he had lost. "Um, let's cut to the number seven video of the day..."

In my own personal fantasy sequence, I took a running leap into the glass window, cracking it, and fell down onto the street below, breaking every single bone in my body...

Downtown New York

"What would you like, sir?"

"A gun so I can shoot myself."

"Pardon?"

"Nevermind. Uh, can I just get some coffee?"

"Coming right up."

On the bright side...well, there wasn't really a bright side, is there? They say that once you fall to the bottom, there's no place to go but back up. "They" have most likely never farted on national television.

I sat in a small diner down the street from the studio. The Mick had offered a lift back to my New York apartment, but I said that I needed time alone.

"Don't sweat it, kid." He had said. "You eat, you drink, you shit your pants, life goes on."

Yyyeah, okay.

I buried my head in my arms onto the table. What was going on!? I remember the exact moment The Mick took me onto his label. I was so psyched. A few seconds later Julie came full-time into my life. My best friends were there, they were happy, everything was perfect. What happened? The moment I stepped off the plane from Chicago, everything was anything but perfect. Everything was...contracts, regulations, promotions, stylists, interviews. I don't think half the people I met or work with have even heard my songs before. I went along, I know this was the way things were supposed to go.

But if they were supposed to go this way...why wasn't I going with it?

What happened to Rod's direction? To his passion?

"This. Sucks." I muttered. I wallowed in my own misery for a few more minutes.

Hey, where was my coffee?

I looked for the waitress. "Excuse me, ma'am. Is my coffee done?"

She looked back at me, confused. "I thought I gave it to you already?"

"Um...no."

She looked at me even closer, then her eyes widened in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I must have given it to the man sitting over there."

I was more confused than upset. "Why would you do that?"

"Well, he just looked so much like you, I just...I'm so sorry sir, I'll get you another in just a second..."

"No no, don't worry about it." I turned to the man she was talking about, at the next table. He was a big guy, at least six feet. He wore a baseball cap and had a weird beard thing going on. Looked like me? I couldn't see it.

I must have stared a bit too long, because I noticed him staring back at me. "Um...hi. Can I help you?"

"I, uh..." I stuttered, chagrined, "Um, no, it's just that...well, you have my coffee."

"I do?" he looked down at his half-finished coffee and back up at me. "But the waitress..."

"She kinda made a mistake and..."

"Shoot...!" he looked genuinely apologetic, which I wasn't used to getting. "I'm sorry, I just thought..."

"Thought what?"

"That, you know...I'm used to people just bringing me stuff, and I didn't think...I'm sorry, I was stupid as usual and...you want it back?"

"No thanks." Cups, unlike underwear, is just one of those things that shouldn't be shared.

"Well can I buy you another one? I really feel stupid about all this..."

"It's no big deal, really. I mean," I blew air out through my teeth, "A cup of coffee isn't gonna help me any."

"Huh?"

Damn. "I didn't mean to say that out loud, sorry. I mean, you probably have more things to worry about than I do."

"You have no idea," he said matter-of-factly. "But come here, sit."

The guy had a handsome smile and a face that just screamed warmth, the type of guy, I knew, that just couldn't bear to see pain in others. So I gave in and went to sit at his table. I mean what do I have to lose?

"I'm Joey."

"Rod." We shook hands.

"So what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. Just...everything."

"That's, uh, a lot of wrong."

"It's just...everything turned out so wrong. So different from what it's supposed to be. I thought I was making the right choice, you know? It felt so right. It's what I've always wanted, I keep telling myself that, but...I don't know if I feel that way anymore."

"Hey...are you a musician?"

I gaped. "How did you know?"

Joey looked about as surprised as I felt. "Well I dunno, you got that vibe. That passion."

I laughed derisively. "Maybe I used to. It sure felt like I did. Whenever I used to play for the guys, at my spot...It sure felt like I had that, yeah. Have you ever taken a chance, Joey?"

He smiled. "My whole life is a chance, man."

Here I was, pouring my heart to this guy I met a minute ago. But somehow, it felt like he knew exactly what I was talking about, that he really listened. And I just needed to get this out. "See, I took a chance coming out here, and I knew in my heart that I just...damnit I wanted this, but now I don't, but I should! What if I took the wrong chance? What if what I want isn't really here at all? I'm just sitting here wasting my time with people I don't like, doing things I don't want to, what if in the end I'm wrong, and it wasn't my place at all? Because right now it sure as hell doesn't feel like my place. It just feels like I got on the wrong train and got off on the wrong stop." I sighed. "I guess it's hard to understand."

"No no, I get you."

And it felt like he really did.

"Believe it or not I feel like that a lot, Rod. As one musician to another...as one guy to another...you can't help but feel like that. But you gotta understand, there's no right train. There's just that one train, and whether or not you're gonna get your butt...your ass on it. From what I see Rod," Joey pointed a finger at me, "You got your ass on it. And that is not something to be ashamed of. Come on, why did you get your ass on the train in the first place?"

I grinned. This was something I knew the answer to. "The music, man. The music."

Joey lifted his arms into the air. "You see? You hear yourself sounding so sure? That's what you want. And that's all you need to know."

I laughed without humor. "Everyone keeps telling me that." But somehow, I did feel better. It did feel good to have another person say it to me.

"When I feel that way," Joey continued, "I like to revisit some older things in my life. You know, friends, family. Sometimes that seems weird because the band is like my friends and my family too, but you know. Get away from it all. Surround myself with some good people. Maybe you should, too. I think when you really understand yourself as you were, you'll really get why you got to where you are right now."

"Maybe I should do that." I said. "You know what, man? Thanks. You really helped me out. It really just...I don't know. Thank you."

He made a big grin that filled up his entire face. Joey's just one of those people who, when they smile, their mouths aren't the only parts at work. "Hey, no problem. Glad I could help someone."

I'm not very good at reading between the lines, I guess. But something about the way he said that just set me off. "Hey...enough about me. What about you? You seemed a little, uh..."

"Strained?"

"I was gonna say 'troubled,' but yeah."

He rolled his eyes, but kept the smile on his face. "Yeah, sure. That's what everyone has been telling me."

I frowned.

He shook his head emphatically. "It's just...you shouldn't have to worry about it."

"Oh no." I gave him my best Stern Face. "I don't work that way. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Tell me about it."

"That's the problem," he smiled wearily, "I don't know how to tell people about this."

I scratched my head. "About what?"

He sighed. "More and more these days, I feel like I'm having trouble being honest about myself with people."

I thought about that for a second, not totally getting it. "Why? Do you feel guilty about something?...or...because sometimes when I know I did something really wrong, or I'm not doing something I should be doing, or I'm just waiting for someone to find out about something I did that was really wrong...well, I get really nervous and anxious around people and stuff and start getting all paranoid, and then it starts to mess with my head big time..."

Joey understood what I was babbling about. "It's nothing like that. It's not that I feel guilty or ashamed of what I did, of anything. I'm totally okay with myself. It's just...I have an image."

"A what?"

"I have an image to...people. They see me as...well I'm not sure what they see me as."

"Okay?" I'm still not sure I understood at all. I mean I don't know Joey really well at all either, so I dunno what he seems like, but he didn't seem like the type to be fussing over what other people thought of him all the time.

"I feel like there's two of me...the Joey that's out there for everyone to see, but it's not the real Joey, like not all of him is there. He's all goody and everyone loves him. And then there's a Joey that's more personal, the real Joey, the good and the bad coming with the package. Not a lot of people know him, they only think they do. The people who only know the fake Joey...they wouldn't like knowing that the real Joey..."

Oh, I get it now. "Well heck, that's easy then. Just keep it with the real Joey."

"Huh?"

"Listen, if this...if the people hanging around this 'fake' Joey don't go even go deep or intimate enough into his world to know the real him, it's not their business if you don't want it to be. The real Joey isn't part of their world, it's not the package they receive. They love fake Joey, not the real one." I shrugged. "Whatever you're dealing with is part of real Joey's world, not theirs. That's what I think."

"Yeah but..." I could tell what I said made sense to him, like he's known it all along, Joey just didn't wanna really think that way. Typical nice guy. "Don't I owe it to them to..."

I pshawed. "Screw that. Fake Joey owes it to them. The real Joey owes it to himself."

"Isn't that like...lying?"

"I've always lived by the fact," I said half-jokingly, "that there's a difference between 'lying' and 'not going out of your way to tell the truth.'"

"You know," he stared at me, wide-eyed. "That answer makes so much sense, it couldn't possibly be the right one."

"It's what got me this far! Hey," I shrugged again. "You're the one who said that there's only one train. All that matters is that you get on. So," I looked at him pointedly, "You gonna get on or what?"

"Rod, what the heck are you doing in the music business?" Joey shook his head disbelievingly.

"Look who's talking!" We shot each other amused glares and laughed.

"Oh shoot!" Joey suddenly shot out of his seat. "What time is it? I'm gonna be late for rehearsals!"

"Well take it easy man. Hey, do you do gigs in town or something? Can I check it out?"

Joey wrinkled his nose. "Not unless you have some fifty or sixty bucks handy to spend?"

"Fifty...!" I choked and shook my head slowly. New York. What a concept. "What are you, some kind of rock star!?"

"Something like that. Look Rod, I'll see you later. And thanks." With that he rushed out.

"You too." Something about that guy...And it took me a full minute of staring stupidly after him to realize, ironically, that I had forgotten to get his full name and number. Something tells me though, I'll be seeing him again sometime.

I took out my cell phone and punched in the speed-dial.

"Yo, wassuuuup? It's the E to the R to the-"

"Eric?"

"ROD!!! Yo guys, it's Rod! Dude, what was up with that fa..."

"You guys better warm up the BBQ, 'cause I'm coming home."

"WHAT?"

"I'm coming home, guys."

I felt more like myself already.

The Mick didn't mind. I called right after my call to the guys. I swear I could almost hear him raise an eyebrow, but something told me that frankly, he had more important things to worry about at the moment than me taking a short trip back home for the weekend.

"Hey, go on, take a shot back to Chi-town. Ring in the foxy ladies, keep them warm till The Mick get there. The Mick has got his money on you, kid. Do the hometown some proud."

Yyyeah, okay.

Well Lissa wasn't so easy to persuade. I was supposed to get some kinda eyebrow makeover on Saturday and she was not very pleased that I had other plans.

"Listen, Rad. You see this lighter? You see this lighter? Look closely at this lighter. You see it? If you even think about making me waste my precious time and money planning out how to fix your obvious imperfections and then getting it cancelled because poor fart-boy is homesick, I will personally hunt you down with this lighter and BURN YOU. Do I make myself clear? You see this lighter?"

Okay, yeah, I had almost wet Kevin's underpants right then and there. Who wouldn't have? But afterwards I sat down and very logically and calmly sorted through my options: On the one hand I could go home to the guys...on the other hand I can sit in a chair and let Lissa have at my face with a tweezer. Guys...Lissa and tweezer. Julie...Lissa and tweezer.

Hmm.

I left a rather hasty message on her machine telling her to cancel the appointment and took the first flight home.

O'Hare Airport

Caring providers for the public that they were, the airport had stacks of newspaper stands. I picked up a copy of The Chicago Daily and flipped through. I'm not sure what I was searching for, really. Some sense of familiarity, maybe? See what's been going on since I was gone. See what the Windy City has been up to...My eyes focused on one article in particular immediately. It was an album review. I didn't really pay attention to what group it was talking about, something about celebrities and girlfriends and video games. I paid close attention to the writer.

Julie. I felt the smile tug at my lips. So she's doing music reviews for The Daily now? Wow, just wow. And oh look, it even has one of those cute little tiny boxed pictures of her right there on the article!

This was amazing! I couldn't wait to catch up with her, to congratulate...

"Hey there, sexy." Someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around, beaming. "Just the girl I wanted to see."

"So how does it feel, Miss Newspaper Staff Member? I'm gone for one month and you go all big-time on me."

She rolled her eyes and gaped, but of course couldn't hide the joy that shone through her face anyway. "You saw? Oh God, you saw."

I made my Evil Chuckle. "You can't hide anything from me."

She rolled over, facing me and laughing at my impression. "It was supposed to be a surprise. I wanted to tell you myself, show you my new office tomorrow. I didn't want you to find out like this..." She seemed a bit uncomfortable talking about all this, but of course Julie has never been one to show off.

"No, it's okay baby."

"Can you believe it?" Julie started to ramble a bit. "I didn't even know until this week, and when they called me, told me to submit a review in two days, it was just wow."

"So...you gonna review my stuff one day?"

"Hmm, I don't know..." she teased, stroking my bare arm. "I mean we're not supposed to be biased in our reviews...what kind of journalist would I be if I let the personal take over the professional?"

"The kind that I like." I answered with the same playful tone. It was a little game we played, see who could come up with the cheesiest but still romantic one-liners.

"Well Mr. Rock Star, you know that I'd have to charge extra for that kind of review..."

She usually wins at this game.

I feigned shock. "Julie, what type of pay are you talking about!?"

"I don't think you'd have any trouble with this type of pay, would you Rod?"

"Hmm..." I pretended to think. "Could it be...this kind of pay?" I kissed her forehead, "Or...this kind?" I kissed her nose, "Or maybe...this?" I kissed her chin.

"Well I'd be lying if I said you aren't getting warmer, Rod..."

I smiled. Yeah, warmer is right.

"Enough about me already. Tell me about your time in New York! How was it?"

"It was a blast."

"Really? That is so great. How's everything coming along with the label?"

"Everything's coming along great, Julie." I sank a bit into the covers. "Couldn't be better."

She smiled. I did, too.

"I missed you."

"Me too."

We hugged, and any thoughts other than the best ones were gone, at least for a while.

"BatterbatterbatterbatterUP!"

Kevin pitched. I swung.

Clang.

God, I missed that sound.

"YES! Did you see that!? Look at that go, Kev, look at that go! Look! At! That! Go!"

"I see it man, now please let go of me and stop jumping up and down because I am scared."

"You know I've seen some wild monkeys do that as some sort of mating ritual before." Randy remarked in between bites of burger, which he held in one hand even as he fried more with the other, something we were all used to seeing him do. Well, the others were, I was still reabsorbing everything I'd missed. It worried me a bit when I realized that little things like Randy flipping a piece of dry meat on a BBQ on the field where we've been playing our entire lives suddenly seemed like such a big deal to me, and it worried me that I was worried about it. And then I worry that I worry too much, which worries me.

"Dude, speaking of monkey!" Eric clapped his hands together several times and grabbed a burger. "I still can not get over it!"

I looked down at the dirt in our field, grinning. Here it comes.

"So we're all just sitting there watching this, right? Kevin's all 'Get the tape ready! Get the tape ready!' and out comes this guy in a pink backless shirt and at first I was just like, 'Which crappy boyband is on this time!?'"

"Ooh boy," Randy voiced his signature tone of disapproval, but he was obviously just as amused by this as the rest of us.

"Then he falls on his face and it was just, 'No question man, that's our Rod!'"

"That's me!" I agreed.

Kevin and Randy exchanged knowing glances.

"But wait, it gets better!"

"WE KNOW." The three of us said in unison. Kevin shook his head with a smirk.

"The guy. Goes. And farts. On national-freaking-teeveeeee!"

We all had to laugh at me. It was just too insane of a memory not to.

"That was classic! Pure freakin' comedy!!"

This is it. This is the kind of laughing that I liked. That I missed.

"So Rod," Kevin spoke up. "Where were you last night? We missed you! You didn't even drop in."

"Well, I was busy."

They were having none of it. My friends stared at me with their heads to one side, willing me to answer.

I grinned. "I was with Julie."

"Oh."

"Oh."

"Ohhhhhhhh."

"We see." Eric raised has hands. "We see. No more questions. Just that...well."

"What?" I asked.

"Did you, uh..."

"What?" I was getting a bit impatient.

"Well did you...'injure' her again?"

I could only stare at them, openmouthed. A second later I noticed that I was dropping burger from my mouth and quickly shut it. "What!?"

They just exploded into laughter. I couldn't help but join. A little.

"Ha ha, funny guys! Aha ha! Ha ha! Heh."

"Hey come on." Randy eyed me mirthfully. "If you get to be a huge rock star, we get to make you pay for it."

Oh boy. "Um yeah guys? About that..."

"What about it?" Kevin asked. The others were curious too.

Oh boy.

"Nothing guys." I put on what I hope looked like a smile. "Who's up to bat? Let's tear this place up!"

O'Hare Airport

They were all there to see me off again. Julie, Kevin, Eric, Randy...Weekends usually go by pretty fast, I know, but this one seemed to disappear just too damn quickly if you ask me.

"Bon voyage, me amigo." Eric saluted.

"Yeah, who knows when you'll be back again." Kevin said.

I don't know how to tell people about this.

"Yeah, next time you come back, bring us something from New York. Like...I dunno. A tree or something." Randy shrugged.

I have an image.

"A tree?" I scratched my neck. "You want me to bring you a tree?"

"Or something."

I feel like there's two of me...the Rod that's out there for everyone to see. He's all goody and everyone loves him.

"Goodbye Rod." Julie said with a smile.

God I love that smile.

And then there's a Rod that's more personal, the real Rod, the good and the bad coming with the package.

What I would do to keep her smiling.

"Julie...guys, I..."

"Yeah?"

The people who only know the fake Rod...they wouldn't like knowing that the real Rod...

"Flight 88, Chicago to New York, now boarding."

"There's something I gotta say, before I go."

"This ought to be good." Randy.

"What is it, Rod?" Julie asked, furrowing her eyebrows, the smile vanishing. Oh God, don't look worried. Please don't look so worried.

The real Rod isn't part of their world, it's not the package they receive. They love fake Rod, not the real one.

I don't want that. I really don't want that.

"Rod, come on," now Kevin was doing the eyebrow-thing. "This isn't like you. What's up?"

"Yeah man, what's going on?" Eric had the thickest eyebrows of us all, he really furrowed his.

All that matters is that you get on.

"You guys."

Crowds of passengers passed us by, eager to get to their flight. Intent on their purpose, knowing exactly where they wanted to go. My friends waited patiently.

You gonna get on or what?

Take the chance, Rod.

"I haven't been totally honest. I wasn't happy in New York. At all. I had to do things that I didn't want to do, a lot. It wasn't what I thought it'd be."

I realized that I was half-babbling, so I paused. Took a breath, and went on.

"I felt lost there, man. I felt so lost. Nothing was familiar, nothing was the way it should be. I didn't know what was right, what was wrong, what I should be doing. I lost Rod's passion. I lost Rod's direction. I lost Rod.

"But then I came home, and I was Rod again, and everything was right. It was just...everything was clear to me. See," I wet my lips and tried hard to look four people straight in the eye at once. "I didn't bring Rod with me to New York last time. For some reason, I don't know why, I left him behind. But I came home, and you guys helped me to find him again, and..."

They all looked at me, expressions unreadable.

"...and this time, I'm bringing him with me."

Silence. Even the ruckus around us seemed to die down.

"And I just wanted to say, thanks. All of you. Thanks."

Several seconds passed without anyone saying anything. We all kinda looked at each other. I gulped.

Then Kevin stepped forward very deliberately and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"You'll do great, Rod."

I grasped him and clasped him in a bear hug.

"Ow," he said gently. I probably was hurting him but I don't remember if either of us cared.

"Group hug!" Eric shouted suddenly, milliseconds before he and Randy did their best to join in on the mass that was Kevin and me.

After what seemed like a short time of what I've come to recognize as male bonding, we disengaged and I turned to Julie.

"I'm sorry...I didn't tell you."

She stroked my hair. "It's okay."

I took her hands in mine. "So...good luck with the review job. Keep me posted on it." I paused. "No pun intended."

She smiled. "You too, right? No more visiting after a month with all these horror stories. You call me if anything comes up."

"Love you."

"Me too."

And we kissed, and once again...it was perfect.

"Awwwwww." Kevin couldn't resist.

"Hankie?" Randy offered.

"Thanks." Eric took the hankerchief from the guy and used it to blow his nose.

Silver Records Studio, New York

"They loved it."

I wasn't sure if I heard right. "They loved what?"

"They loved it. They loved you."

"What? What'd I do?" Maybe it was the jetlag, but something about this wasn't cutting through.

"Rod, my man." The Mick put lowered his silver-rimmed sunglasses and spoke to me direct. "The Mick don't lie. When the Mick says that the kids at the TRL studio loved what you pulled that day, The Mick means it."

I stared blankly. I was afraid that if I tried to make a sound it would come out either too high or too low. I could only imagine the types of facial expressions I must have been making at the moment. "R-reallly? They actually like what happened? With the...the fall and the f...the f..." I couldn't even say it.

"Yeah! It was a hit with the crowd. The Mick is impressed, kid."

"But...but how!? Why?"

The Mick just shrugged and pointed his thumb at the silver computer at his silver desk(basically everything at Silver Studios was silver. What can I say? The Mick's got a thing for his own last name), motioning for me to go see. Confused, I did.

imamickfreak: Did you see what Rob did?????

ILoveRod: his name is ROD. c'mon he hates it when ppl get it wrong.

SilverMick2001: Yeah I saw! He totally shoded that Carson prick, lololol! Damn I wish I could fart in Crapson's face!

BW7734: I LOVE ROOOOODDDD!!!111!!!!!!!1111

RodBush1: shuuuuuut Uuuuuup you're such a freak.

BW7734: ROOOOOOOOOpPD Marryy meeeeE#3333331111!!! lolol hes s3xy.

inlovewMC: lmao

MickHoney: Im skeered.

Rodfire: Yeah that was sooooooo funny! Did you see his face?

rOdISgOd: i luvd that he is so all abot hte ROCK

ImRod&IKickAss: I'M SEXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXY

RodBush1: shuuuuuut Uuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!p

inlovewMC: lmao

minky: Kids, don't make me have to shut down this thread. Anyway, have you heard that Rod's friend is that guy in Chicago who sent out those posters looking for the train girl? I think he has a sexy ass.

ImRod&IKickAss: im goign to rite a rod n keVin fannfic! theyre cute.

BW7734: OMG!!! VOTE FOR ROD IN THE COSMOGURL DO-ME AWARDS!!!

inlovewMC: lmao

I took a quick step away from the computer and back into reality, unsure of what I should be feeling.

"You got the fanbase, kid."

"Those people are kinda scary."

"Doesn't matter. They feel your love."

"Mick..." I had to be honest now. I knew what I wanted, and I had to go for it. "I'm kinda uncomfortable with the fact that these people don't know me."

He was unconcerned. "No one really does, kid."

"I mean...they like me because I farted on TV! Well sure, it's not a bad thing, if you're gonna be liked you might as well...no," I shook my head roughly trying to clear the thoughts, "what I'm saying is, they don't even know what I'm all about. What this," I picked up the silver guitar which hung on his silver chair, "Is all about. I wanna show them."

The Mick was slowly beginning to understand what I meant, but wasn't too keen on it. "What are you saying, kid?" he asked, sitting himself down on the silver chair

"I wanna cut an album. I wanna tour. I don't wanna go on TV just because. I wanna show them who Rod is."

He frowned and scratches his chin a few times. "Eventually my man, all those things will come to you. The Mick thought you understood this, that you were going to put trust in The Mick to make these things happen. You want to do all that now?"

"Well not now but I mean...Yeah. Now. Soon. Well...not now or soon, just...Mick, all I've been doing since coming to New York is...well, nothing! I've been trying to be patient, I kept telling myself all this time that I've been doing the right thing, but the truth is I don't feel that. And I do trust you. I don't need instant results or something, that's not what I'm talking about, but I'm so scared that right now I'm not even going for the results. Mick, I've got the songs. I've had the songs forever. I'm not so dumb and inexperienced that I can't stand up there and sing my songs, I've been doing this forever."

"No offense Rod, but as your label manager, you have to realize it's The Mick's job to tell you not to think like that. You've only been in this business for a little more than a month. There are things in this business you haven't seen yet, that you haven't experienced. Don't get me wrong, my man, you would sell. You would sell good, the folks will love you. You," he jabbed a finger at me, "are living potential. But The Mick isn't the only one who can see that. There are people who'll try to take advantage of you in ways you can't even see or feel, and The Mick can't watch out for that every second of your career, not this early."

I was silent. The Mick took off his shades and spoke to me as a person. "The Mick wouldn't take risks like that. He can't."

"It's what I came out here to do, take the chance. Mick, it's what you brought me out here to do. You didn't bring my out here to be a poster boy for message board weirdos or to sit in chairs going over contracts week after week." I bit my lip. Here I was, imploring with The Mick, a god amoung men, my hero. But I grasped to the hope that because he was just that man, just that hero, he would do the right thing. "You said so yourself, I have what it takes. I gotta take the risk, Mick. There's no right or wrong, I just have to make the choice. And it feels right. It's what Rod...what I want."

The Mick looked me up and down, his features hard. I gulped.

"The Mick is impressed, kid."

"Ron!!"

I jumped, startled, almost dropping the bag of potato chips I had. Fortunately I was quick to react and the precious chips were saved.

"How dare you! How dare you!!" Lissa marched up to me, fingers curled into claws, and I had a flashing mental image of a cobra rearing up to strike. "You blew me off! YOU! BLEW! ME! OFF!"

I rubbed my neck. Alright, it was way too late for this. I just had a long flight(by my standards anyway)and The Mick had handed me more transcripts to go over before I can set foot in a studio or anything. Hey, it's the biz. It was a step forward at least.

"Not now, Lissa. Okay?" I munched on a chip.

She raised one of those claws, making as if to strike. "Do you know how much money we wasted!? Why weren't you there!?? I can't believe we waited all day for you!!"

I narrowed my eyes. "I told you, I was going back to Chicago on Friday. Why didn't you cancel?"

She made a single loud and harsh laugh. "Cancel? For you!? I knew you were stupid, Ron, but..."

"Lissa, you're fired."

She stared at me for a whole thirty seconds while I calmly chewed potato chips.

"You can't fire me." Suddenly the mental image of the cobra was replaced by one of a tiny tittering mouse.

In my own personal fantasy sequence, I gave her my biggest, goofiest smile, showing her all the pieces of chips stuck between my teeth, and turned around.

Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft.

Then I walked away while she stood stunned, unable to do anything but to violently shake in helpless rage. I was all the way out the door when I finally realized with a great sense of satisfaction that for once, this was no fantasy.

"Who's the man? I'm the man."

My New York apartment looked kinda like the one I had back in Chicago, a lot smaller of course, but it did have the vibe. I had brought over half the Led Zepplin posters I had and plastered the walls with them, hung up the extra guitars and band equipment and amps, some of them a little wrecked because of the, uh, practice kicking I had been doing on them. And of course the whole place is cluttered with junk and cardboard. It hardly felt like home though, I guess because I'm hardly here anyway. And obviously Julie's stuff is missing. I needed to get a dog, I decided. A cute little pug, big rock stars always had pugs. Not that I had time to take care of it at this point, I had some important things to take care of first. Like the new paperwork I got which I had just begun to go over. As I browsed through, I was determined not to mess this one up.

"I, the undersigned, give the rights of distribution, certification, and citation of my recorded and written work to Silver Records. They are to allocate the results of my production with the markets and public interests as they see fit. Should I have complaints concerning the distribution, certification, or citation of said recorded and written work, I am to refer to the second paragraph of Section 17h."

Sure...okay. I flipped the pages and tried to find Section 17h.

"The legitimacy of my complaints concerning the distribution, certification, or citation of my recorded and written work is judged on the scale of which Silver Records has decided to circulate my results on all fronts of the market, economic ventures notwithstanding. For further details of which the scale of circulation is measured, I am to refer to Section 5d."

I turned back to Section 5d.

"I am to note that the results of which the scale of circulation depends on a national currency quota as opposed to a global one. The scale of which global distribution of my work is measured should be discussed in a meeting with my presiding label manager. Details concerning the influence of my label manager upon my work is discussed in Section..."

Well, screw that.

I fell down sprawled onto the bed. "AAAAAAAArrrrrrg!" Who was I kidding? I couldn't understand a single word on the damn page. I had enough trouble looking up stuff in the freakin' phone book for Chrissakes. There was no way I can understand this, and no way I'm going to sign this when I don't understand. And I couldn't expect The Mick to hold my hand, the whole point of this was to show him that I could do stuff like this without his help, 'cause he can't always help me like this. But I can't!

Get away from it all. Surround myself with some good people.

Unless...!

I lept off the bed and grabbed the phone, punching in the number.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiii- "Hello?"

"Train Man!"

"Rod? Is everything alright?"

"Everything's cool. I just missed the sound of your voice, Mr. Sexy Underwear."

"Hi Rod!" I heard someone shout.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Abbey."

"Abbey's at your place? Are you even wearing underwear right now?"

"Funny, Rod. So what's up?"

"Is Randy there? Get him on."

There was a brief silence while they switched. "Y'ello."

"Randy! I need to ask you a big favor. What does 'notwithstanding' mean?"

The next morning, I called Julie at my Chicago apartment. It was for a stupid reason actually...nothing like "Oh I missed you" or "I was thinking about you" or "I wanted to hear the sound of your voice" or anything real deep like that. Fact is, I just couldn't find my favorite denim jacket and called to see if I left it there.

I was just trying to come up with some sexy line to say to her about the light that breaks through yonder morn or whatever when an unfamiliar, groggy, male voice answered. "...Hello."

My sexy greeting died in my throat. "Hello?" I said instead.

"Hello?"

"Hello...um," I felt an uncomfortable twinge in my stomach but I ignored it. "Who is this?"

"What? Who is this?"

"This is..." I began, but my voice caught again. The uncomfortable twinge grew to a definite sinking sensation as my mind connected voice and owner. "...Brady?"

"Yeah, what? Who is this?"

I didn't trust myself to speak. I was dead certain that if I said anything, I'd never be able to stop. Instead I just stood there in stunned silence as my insides performed summersaults. I gripped the phone so tight that my knuckles were white and cracking. It felt much longer, but it probably only four or five seconds before Brady muttered "Moron," and hung up. I put the receiver back down slowly and sat on the side of my bed, my mind blank. Gunshots could have gone off in the next room and I wouldn't have noticed.

Brady in my old apartment.

I was gone for a month and rarely called.

Julie, with a sudden, new job.

I felt like throwing up.

"What's wrong?"

I blinked, mind snapping back into focus. "What?"

"The Mick asked you what was wrong," he said mildly.

Get a grip, Rod. Don't start screwing this up now. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's just fine. I'm just tired, you know."

"Bull." The Mick leaned back on his silver chair and regarded me carefully. "The Mick could feel the negative from you a mile away. All morning it was there. Yesterday you were strong, determined, and confident. Cautious, but the will was there. Like a freakin' wolf, man. Today, you remind me of a chipmunk."

"I like chipmunks." I managed weakly.

"What's wrong?" There was nothing hostile or intimidating about his tone or manner, and yet there was no sympathy there either. It was just...bare. Straightforward. Direct. Cutting right to the chase. He asked a question and wanted to know the answer, simple as that.

So I knew better than to try and fake him out. "It's personal stuff. Nothing to worry about."

"With Julie?"

So much for subtle. "I'll be fine." I offered. "I just...I'm in a funk. It'll wear off, I'll figure things out again."

"Really?"

There really was just no use lying. "No." I let the facade drop and slumped back on my own seat. I found lately that if there was anything I'm good at, it's slumping. "I don't know. I thought I had things figured out when...I didn't...does this make any sense at all? I mean, Rod's screwed up. Rod doesn't know what to do. So what else is new?"

"Hey, don't even start that with The Mick. Kid, you've amazed everyone, including The Mick. Always have, since the very beginning. You walked in here half and hour ago and had this contract figured out, down to the very last bullshit line."

"That wasn't all me really, I had some help."

"Doesn't matter. It was in your gut or you wouldn't have done it. So don't tell The Mick that 'Rod is screwed up,' 'cause The Mick ain't gonna do anything but laugh it off."

I was silent.

"And when you sit there and dig on yourself like that, you make The Mick think that he made a mistake when he picked you out."

"Maybe he did."

I spoke so softly that at first I thought that he didn't hear me. The resulting silence, on the other hand, felt deafening.

Okay, I didn't mean it. As soon as I opened my trap I knew that it wasn't true. I was just saying that because it'd be the easy way to explain things. But it wasn't the truth. Maybe I've lost my faith in other things, but I can't lose faith in myself. Man, that's what makes Rod. If nothing else I knew that I could do this, that I was capable. I was Rod. But I was also getting really sick and tired of having to be so damn perfect all the time. I was getting tired of pretending that nothing affected me, that I would just take all these blows with a smile on my face, that I'd just crawl effortlessly back onto my feet every time I get knocked down. I was getting tired of people pretending that I was Superman. I'm not. I have limits. Maybe I have different, stronger limits than other people, but that doesn't mean they didn't exist. I'm trying. Damnit, I've been trying my very best to take it all and keep on taking it. But the reaction I always seem to get from people is to "try more, try harder."

"Maybe," The Mick repeated finally and smiled. Very, very humorlessly.

I bit my lip.

"One week, Rod."

I blinked. "What?"

"You're lucky that you got someone like The Mick as your manager, 'cause most anyone won't stand up for this. Most anyone would have had your ass out the door the minute you said that. But you're lucky The Mick doesn't like to admit when he made a mistake, even about something like this. You're lucky The Mick is willing to do anything to prove that he didn't make a mistake. The Mick is..." he paused suddenly. "I'm giving you one week off, Rod. One week. Look kid, I like you. Always have. And I don't wanna have to be sorry that I do. I don't wanna have to let you go. Come back in a week and if you still feel that way...well, I'm not gonna force you to stay when your heart ain't in it. And sooner we find that answer the better for the both of us."

Then he dismissed me with a slight wave of the hand went on to doing whatever else he was concerned with, besides me. I gaped at him wordlessly for a minute, then muttered a quiet thanks and got up to leave.

Central Park

I was slowly beginning to hate using the phone. Probably because I was beginning to dread the type of calls I had to make.

"Look, I dunno what to tell you man," Eric said on the other line. "I never noticed anything. You know we're not that close with Julie in the first place, we don't like, spend time with her or anything. We never even dreamed..."

I slumped back on the park bench. People walked by, not paying me any attention. And why would they? I was just another guy they see everyday, moping about whatever trauma or tragedy or life crises that happened cross. It was a nice day outside, really. Bright sun, cool breeze. Sounds weird coming from a guy like me, but I really do appreciate nature. Just seeing and feeling things like this made me feel a bit better.

Emphasis on "a bit."

"Eric I told you, it's okay. It isn't anyone's fault." Except my own, obviously. For leaving her. For leaving her alone.

"Shit man, this sucks. I'm so sorry," For all the fronts that he puts on, Eric almost never swears in any way, so I knew that he meant every word. Not that I needed some obscure sign to tell me that. I trusted my friends. Trusted...trust. Now there's a concept. "You want me to like...I dunno, keep an eye on her or something?"

Spy on Julie? I sighed loudly. I knew that Eric meant well, but if there was anything at the moment that could possibly make me feel even crappier than I did, having someone spy on Julie was probably it. "No...don't do that." The cool thing about the guy, though, is that if I told him to he really would go and do it just because I asked.

"Well have you even talked with her?"

"No answer. I tried all her numbers."

"That sucks."

"I know."

"And there's no way you can come back right now?"

A pigeon pecked at the ground near my feet. "Can't afford it. I just took a round-trip flight, remember?"

"That sucks."

"I know."

"Shit. Brady Frances." Eric spat. "Should've known he'd try to put the mack on her again..."

"It's not his fault."

I could practically feel Eric's jaw drop through my cell. "What!? Are you kidding?"

It'd be so easy to just blame everything on Brady, wouldn't it? See him as some conniving weasel out to get me. But it just doesn't work that it way. It just...doesn't. I just couldn't bring myself to see it that way. And I couldn't bring myself to hate someone for...for wanting to be with Julie. "No. It takes two to tango, Eric. No way around it. No way," I said, half to Eric and half to the other pigeon that flew down near the first. They looked at me with a hungry puppy eyes expression.

"Hey," Eric said brightly, "Maybe it's all just a mistake, you know? Maybe you just called the wrong number, or maybe Brady got run over by bulls and Julie just brought him over to your place to rest, or...you know? It doesn't mean for sure that...!" he couldn't even finish the thought.

Which was just fine. I didn't really feel like hearing about it right then. "Thanks Eric but...I don't think so. I just have a feeling that...I just know. I know, and I knew when I made that call and..." I felt my jaws clench and could barely continue. "I knew, she must have been with him. I knew it." I finished tightly.

"Well that just sucks man."

I had to smile a bit. "I gotta go, dude."

"Hang in there kid. It'll all turn out good, you'll see."

I didn't know how I should answer that so I didn't. Just quietly shut off the power to the cell. The pigeons at my feet were beginning to multiply by the dozens. "Sorry birdies. I don't have anything for you right now. See?" I spread my hands dejectedly. "I don't have anything."

"Whaddya mean you don't have anything? Come on, that's not true."

I made a strangled yell, shot up out of my seat, twisted around at an unnatural angle, lost my balance and fell on my butt, causing the terrified pigeons to scatter all around. To say that he startled me would be, oh, putting it mildly.

Joey looked down at me with an expression that was half amusement and half concern and adjusted his baseball cap. "Uh...should I be sorry?"

"No, s'okay." I scrambled to my feet and checked my butt for bloody pigeon parts. "What's up Joey?"

"Not much...Rod right? I'm just taking the little one out for a stroll."

"The little one?" I repeated dumbly. "What...oh."

Joey's a big guy, though there's obviously been bigger. Still, when you got a guy like him holding the tiny little baby in one arm it just makes her seem that much more tiny and little. Which is why I didn't even notice her until then.

"I didn't know you had a kid." It was the only thing I could think of saying. I was a little shocked, to say the least.

"Say hi, Brianna." Joey lifted her up a bit. Brianna stared at her father, then at me, then at her father again.

I suppose I must have been still collecting my thoughts. I mean the guy couldn't have been any older than me and...unforunately, I've never been very good at hiding my feelings, so Joey saw my expression and tightened his lips sadly. "Uh, come!" I shouted quickly, "Come sit with me on my, uh, bench. I didn't order any coffee this time but...yup."

Joey raised his eyebrows but took my offer. "So what have you been up to?" he asked as he sat and placed the baby on his lap, where she continued to stare at him and then at me and then at him again. It was a bit disturbing, actually.

"Same old, same old." I attempted a smile, but the attempt sputtered and died out before it even began.

"Look at the pigeons baby...aren't the pigeons cool?" Joey directed his daughter towards the pigeons that began to gather again. She looked at her father, then at the pigeons, then at her father again.

And then it all clicked. "Is this...er, is she what you were talking about that day in the cafe...?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile, but there was something cautious about it all the same. "She is."

"Oh, wow that's a relief."

It was my turn to surprise him. "A relief?"

"Because for the longest time I thought you were talking about being gay or something."

His expression was priceless. I swear to God I tried my hardest to keep a straight face, but it lasted for about a second before I had to break down and start laughing like a maniac. After a minute Joey joined in too.

"Not," I said in midst of laughter, "That it would have mattered if you were but still...!"

"Oh no," he agreed.

Through all this Brianna just stared at Joey, then at me, then at the pigeons, then at Joey again.

You know, laughter is cool...just a minute ago we were all tense and the air was just tenseful and there was all this tension, and just by laughing at how ridiculous it was...it just goes away. Simple as that.

And you know, now that I'm thinking more clearly about it, I'm seeing just how ridiculous my reaction to Brianna was. The guy's...what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five? I remember even back in college there were a lot of guys who were already taking care of families, paying the bills full-time, the works. I mean just because we don't see it a lot doesn't mean it's all that weird or anything. And now that I really think about it, Joey's got that whole paternal thing going on anyway. Strange how the most obvious things in retrospect get you all freaked out when you first deal with it.

"I really have to thank you again." Joey said suddenly.

I snapped out of my reverie. "For what?"

"What you said to me the other day...it really did help. Before, I would have never had the guts to take her out like this," he held Brianna a little closer, "I was just too scared. I was too afraid of what others thought and that was just too crippling. But after listening to what you said, I got over it." He smiled warmly. "I don't have to hide her, but I don't have to expose her to the world either...I just have to let it all be. So really, thanks."

It should've made me feel good, I think. Should have made me all proud of myself and all "KING OF THE WOOORLD~!"-like, but at the moment all I could do was to stare at Joey dumbly and try to remember what the heck it was I said that helped him so much. "You're welcome," I said instead. Hey, go with the flow.

"Hey you know what? We're still in town...you want some free tickets to see us? It's the least I can do..."

I thought about that...I'm never one to pass up a chance to see a rock concert or something...but..."No thanks man, I-"

"It's cool." Joey shrugged like it was no big deal, like people rejected his offers all the time.

Which instantly made me feel like a turd. "It's not that man, I uh...it's just not a great time for me these days."

"Whoa there. So what's wrong? Anything I can do?"

How did I keep getting myself into these things?? "Joe, please trust me on this, it's nothing you have to worry about."

"Tell me now or I'll have Brianna barf on you." And he held the kid up as if in warning, where she looked at Joey, then at me, then at...

I laughed again.

And I told him everything. Everything from the start. Through it all Joey just sat there and listened. At one point he got a bottle out of his big jacket and started to feed Brianna but that was about it. The pigeons continued pecking.

"I just need to talk to her or something...you know. I have to talk to her. I hate just sitting here and being so helpless and desperate about everything." I spread my arms, feeling very helpless and desperate. "I don't know what's worse: knowing that it's all my fault, or not knowing if it's all my fault and wondering about it all the time!"

Joey regarded me levelly. "Not knowing is the worst part."

"Exactly. And I hate myself for not knowing. I was just with her. Just twenty-four hours ago, I was with her! I was so close to her, and suddenly...she's..."

"Far away."

I nodded, depressed once more, and laughed bitterly. "Heh, remember we were talking about the wrong train before? Well I might not have gotten on the wrong train but I sure as heck got on the wrong flight, huh?" It was a piss-poor attempt to be funny. Joey looked at me for a few more seconds, then slapped his hand on his thigh, and from somewhere else in his big jacket took out a cell phone. I looked at him questioningly but he just smiled and punched in a number.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Ri- "Hey Johnny? Yeah...it's Joey. Can you get me a round-trip flight to and from Chicago? No," laugh, "It's not for me, it's for a friend. Yeah. As soon as possible please. Tonight? Right. Don't worry, I'll pay. Thanks." And with that he clicked the phone off, as if he did stuff like this every day.

I could only stare.

"Don't ask," he said smugly. "And don't protest. It's the least I could do, man."

I had no intention of doing either. "Who are you...?"

He just gave the that mysterious, full-faced smile. "My name is Joey."

Mary MacGuire's

"Do you see her?"

Eric and Randy looked at each other then at me. "No," they said at the same time in the same apologetic tone of voice.

It was kinda funny to watch, really. "You guys, relax," I grinned, "I'm not gonna suddenly break down or anything."

"We're just worried, you know." Eric sighed.

"Yeah if this were Kevin or something, at least we'd know what to expect from him," Randy bit on his lip, "But we're not used to seeing stuff like this happen to you."

Now there's an understatement.

It's been three days since I've been back to Chicago. Three days of me tearing the entire city apart trying to track down Julie, calling every one of her numbers, looking around each of her favorite hangouts. Eric even convinced me into letting him stake out her workplace; she hasn't been going to work(Her boss Barrett even told Eric to tell Julie that if she doesn't show up soon he'll have to replace her position). Randy has been looking up her family and friends, trying to get to her, but no one knows where she's been off to. It's like she just disappeared that day. I almost let Kevin put up posters and billboards all over the city asking for her, but not quite.

But I did take a cue from him and left messages in every one of her machines telling her that I'm going to be at MM's tonight, and if she wants to talk...well, I'll be here.

"Sorry we're late," Abbey said as she and Kevin came in, sweaty and panting.

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"Some kids at the station actually started asking for our autographs!" Kevin said, exasperated. "Can you believe that?"

"Any luck?" I asked hopefully.

"With the autographs?" Kevin stared blankly. "Oh...no, sorry man."

I nodded slowly, my lips drawn into a thin line. "Alright, well...I gotta get up there. I can't keep the crowd waiting." If there's one thing that Rod doesn't do, it's to keep the crowd waiting. Rod would never do that.

...In some small corner of my mind I noticed that I was beginning to sound more and more like The Mick. I wasn't sure if I should be glad or not.

"Rod..." Kevin stopped me just as I getting to the stage. "Don't give up."

I grinned and attempted a joke. "Never say die, right Kev?"

"Damn straight," he grinned back.

And then I started it up the band, and took my place once more in the spotlight that was mine and always will be, my spot...my paradise. This was me, what I'm feeling right now is what I loved, and no matter what, nothing would change this. Even after all I've been through...it surprised even me that all that was still true.

Up here, it was me. I took charge. It was my time. There were no limits. I didn't have to pretend to be Superman...I was.

When I had finished a few numbers, I looked at the guys again, hoping for some indication. They shrugged; still no sign of her.

Damn it.

"Alright...this next song..." I mumbled into the mic, "Is one that I just wrote really recently...about...a bit about what I'm going through right now...it's called 'Just Like You.'"

And I sang.

"I took a chance
I took your hand
Maybe you would see and try to understand
I crossed the line
To make you mine
I should've known that I'd be wastin' my time

'Cause it was just like you
To leave me alone
Just like you
When I'm out on my own
I've been trying so hard, hoping you feel the same
You've known all along that it would drive me insane
But no matter the game, no matter how I score
I know that I'll be back
That I will always be-"

My breath caught.

I saw her standing in the back, far away from everyone else. Even as I've never seen someone look so beautiful in my life, I've also never seen someone look so sad.

We just stood there and looked at each other for a few seconds as if we were the only two people in the entire room. I should say something, I know. Every part of my body was begging me to say something to her. But I couldn't. To this day, I'm really not sure why. All I could do was to look at her eyes, so sad, and look at them looking back at me. Then, without a word, she left, disappearing into the throng of people. Just like that. Just like that, she walked out.

"Back for more," I finished quietly.

Brady showed up at my apartment the next morning.

"Rod."

"Brady."

I stepped aside and let him in.

"Nice place," he said.

"You would know, you've been here," I mumbled without really thinking. It was early, I was upset, and I was hungry...not good things to mix.

"So I hear you and Julie are having some problems," he says conversationally.

Maybe if it hadn't been 7:46 in the morning, or maybe if I was thinking more clearly, or maybe if I hadn't chugged all those bottles last night, I wouldn't have done what I did next. As it happens...well, I did.

In less than an eyeblink my hand shot out, grasped him by the throat, and lifted the man a good two feet off the ground. An eyeblink later, I hurled him across the room, slamming into the wall, where he sagged down like a limp puppet.

"Ow."

If I wasn't feeling enough like a turd, this definitely rounded it up. "I'm sorry!" I blurted. I should go and help him up, I know. I really should. But all I could do was gape helplessly, my feet seemingly rooted to the carpet. I was horrified at what I just did. What was wrong with me? I told myself from the very beginning, I promised myself that I wouldn't take any of this out on Brady, and the first chance I get I throw the guy across my living room. Nice going, Rod.

"You're strong," was all Brady said as he struggled to his feet, where he began to cough and rub at his neck.

"I'm so sorry-"

"But I guess I deserved that, huh?"

I bit my lip. I couldn't argue with that, but it didn't make me feel like any less of a turd. "Uh you want some ice?"

"No, and let's cut the bull Rod, I don't wanna talk to you any longer than I have to." He tilted his head to the left a bit and winced.

"Have I mentioned how sorry I am? Because I am."

"I want you to take Julie back!" he snarled.

I couldn't have been more surprised even if he had just told me that he was dating Britney Spears or something. "What?"

He rolled his eyes. "God you nimrod, don't make me have to say it again."

"I heard you the first time," I said, slightly annoyed at being called a nimrod. Probably because it was such a fitting description.

"She feels like crap, you know that? She feels so sorry about the whole thing. She's so miserable, you have no idea."

I was silent.

"She's been with me the last few days...she couldn't face anyone. She was so, so frickin' upset and miserable." Brady paused, as if even he didn't believe what he was doing. "She's just been in tears. She couldn't stop talking about you and how you're never going to forgive her and how she wished that she could make everything better. You know her. You gotta know how she's feeling right now."

"Why...why are you telling me this?"

"As much as it frickin' pisses me off to see her with you..." he shut his eyes tight. "I'd rather see her with you than see her...like this."

I'm not sure who was more shocked to hear those words out of Brady's mouth, him or me. "Where is she?" I said finally.

"At a hotel downtown." He gave me the address then turned to leave.

"Brady..."

He stopped in his tracks but didn't turn to face me.

"Thanks."

Silence.

"Call me up sometime," I went on, "I'm here till the end of the week. We'll hang out or something. Me and the guys, we're always around."

"Yeah...whatever." He stammered almost inaudibly.

"Brady."

Silence.

"Do you love her?"

We stood there for a long moment. Then he barked out a harsh laugh.

"Love doesn't exist."

I sat down on the cotton bed in the hotel room and just looked at her standing there for minute, really looked at every part of her. It was only a few days ago but...it felt like forever since I had last done that.

"How are you doing?" I asked simply. It wasn't one of those Hollywood movie reunions. I simply knocked on her door and Julie invited me in without a word, as if nothing had happened. I went along.

"I've been better," she said, combing her hands through her hair. "And you?"

I shrugged. "I've been better too."

"Rod..." Julie sat down on the bed as well. "I don't know how to say this without making it sound worse. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I didn't dare look her in the face. I needed to struggle for distance. I needed objectivity. The more I looked at this whole thing as Rod, the more it hurts. "Tell me everything," I said evenly, straining to keep emotion out of those words. I was determined to have what passes as a mature conversation.

"Yes, of course." Julie bit her lip. "I owe you that. That and so much more..."

"Please, Julie."

"You're right, I'm sorry," she got up and went to the window, staring out. I wonder what she saw. I wonder what she was seeing, what she was feeling. One thing I was pretty sure of is that she was struggling to distance herself too, struggling to displace what she feeling so strongly inside, just like I was.

If we didn't, it'd just hurt too much.

"Brady's the one who got the job for me," Julie began, still distant. I sat and listened patiently. The last few weeks, I've really gotten better at that...just sitting and listening. "Oh he didn't physically get it for me...but it was him. He knows it and I know it...he knew enough people around the office, enough people with the enough influences. He got talking, got asking, got negotiating, and before I knew it I was in talks to take over for the last music reviewer." She paused. "I was so grateful, you have no idea. And so shocked. You know him...this is Brady. The guy never even gone out of his way to open a door for me before, much less this..."

That was true. And until just today, I though that I did know Brady. Just when you think that people can't surprise you any more.

Julie went on. "We started hanging out again. We were never really all that detached in the first place, it was like we just started talking and hanging out more. I didn't think anything of it, and I wanted to thank him anyways. And it was so strange, it really was as if he was a changed man!" she bit her lip again, still staring out the window. The distance was beginning to close. "And before I knew it, we just...got closer. I don't know how to explain it! You were gone, and he was there, and..." She shut her eyes tightly, unable to continue.

"He made you feel needed," I finished quietly. "When I didn't."

Julie could only nod.

I sighed loudly. It was the oldest story in the book, really. There must have been at least a billion songs written about this exact situation, and damned if I haven't sang more than half of them before. And the ironic thing? It was just the exact reverse of how I got with Julie in the first place.

"I never slept with him, Rod." She blurted suddenly. "I would...I would never. And I never thought about it, not once."

"I believe you, Julie," I said, weary yet surprised. I suppose that I should have been more relieved after hearing this, but oddly enough it didn't really make me feel all that better. "But you did go...with him and all that?"

"Behind your back," Julie agreed, sounding more and more miserable. I hoped that I was holding up okay because if her faltering nerves were any indication of my condition as well, all this "mature conversation" stuff could get pretty ugly and pretty sad pretty soon. "Oh Rod...I felt so guilty...I felt so ashamed. You have to believe me that I did."

For some reason, listening to her like that, I did believe her. Maybe I was just a naive man. Maybe I was just a gullible man. Or maybe I was just a man.

"And not just with you...with Brady too. God, I felt so guilty that I was treating him like some replacement of you, like something I'm using for comfort just because he was..."

"Convenient?"

She nodded again sadly. "I couldn't tell him that. My God, he deserves so much more than that. I really did appreciate him. I appreciated all that he did for me. And he didn't deserve to feel like a replacement. I told him all that. He said, 'I don't care, as long as you're happy.'"

Tears began to form in her eyes, I could see them even from where I was sitting. I think I might have begun to cry a bit too.

"Can you believe that?" she sobbed. "I didn't even care if it was some line of random bull. It made me feel...oh God." she stopped to whipe her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Julie...I need to ask you two questions."

She stood there for a while, then finally turned to face me. "Anything Rod. Anything you want to ask."

"I really...I really was a pretty crappy excuse of a boyfriend, wasn't I?"

"No! Rod," Julie came to the bed immediately and grasped my hands. "Don't say that. Don't. If anything it was me. I was the unfaithful one, remember? You were off following your dreams, and I was the one who wanted more."

"Julie...I left you alone."

"No Rod," the tears began to stream again. Oh God, don't look sad. Please don't look so sad. "Don't make me feel any less guilty about this. Please don't. Being with Brady just made me realize how much more I wanted to be with you."

I was silent. I was naive and a gullible and a man, but even I had to be taken back by this.

"That day you came back, and I saw you reading my review...I was so happy. It's like reconnecting was a part of myself that I lost. Oh it was only a short while, but I was so happy. Don't you even know how you make me feel?"

If it's anything like the way you make me feel, Julie baby, then yeah I do. "I guess," I said out loud.

"And right then I knew, I knew that I'd been making a mistake, that I was wrong. What I wanted," she squeezed my hand tighter, "Is right here. And I was wrong not to wait for it, no matter anything else, I was wrong not to wait."

"I was the one who made you-"

"The night that you left again," Julie interrupted. "I'd already made a decision. You were brave enough to confess to yourself about what you went through in New York, and I had to be brave enough not to lie to myself too. That night, I called Brady over and I told him that it was over, that I couldn't do it anymore, and that I'd just be hurting all three of us if I went on."

More surprises. "Then, when I called the next morning...?"

"It was already over." Julie agreed.

"But then why did you avoid me?"

"How could I face you!?" I flinched and she looked so sorry for shouting that I immediately felt once again like, you guessed it, a turd. "Knowing that you knew, that you knew I was lying this whole time, even when you were back I didn't even have the courage to tell you and just played 'perfect girlfriend' like that...you must have thought that I didn't care about you at all. That I didn't even think it was worth it to tell you. That I thought so little of you. I couldn't face you like that!"

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell her that I didn't feel that way at all, but something stopped me. Now, of all times, Julie deserved the truth as much as I did...and the truth was, she did make me feel that way. Unimportant. Unworthy.

"Please don't hate me, Rod. Please. I don't care whatever else you want to feel just...don't hate me." There was no distance now. Her face was clenched and she fought against everything that has happened, she fought against herself. "Will you...can you imagine yourself not hating me?"

It was then I realized that we were both victims. We were just pawns, both bitter victims of...life. It was no one's fault, but everyone got hurt anyway. Things happen and people get hurt, no one wanted it this way but sometimes it just hits you before you can do anything about it. And it came to me right then that though it was no one's fault, it was my responsibility to help things get better, to pick up the pieces. Our responsibility. Both our responsibilities.

Julie doesn't see it, I realized suddenly. She blames herself and herself only. She's such a nice girl...she can't see past the part where she hurt me, she doesn't even acknowledge that she herself was a victim of it all too.

"I don't know Julie," I said quietly, but with conviction. I was determined, of all things, not to mess this one up. "Maybe...but first you have to answer my second question."

Maybe it was for the better, I thought. Maybe this is the way that things were supposed to go...that I was supposed to go off and do my thing, follow my dreams, and leave her behind. I mean that's what I've been doing all along. Even if I didn't know it, it was what I did.

And how exactly did that make me feel?

"Go ahead." She steeled herself against whatever it was I was going to say. She totally convinced herself that she deserved whatever it was I was going to hurl at her, that anything I said was all her fault. Seeing that in her...it broke my heart in more ways than one. For the second time that day, I looked at her, just really looked as if I've never seen her before in my life.

Was I supposed to leave her behind?

Oh hell no.

Not in my story.

"Julie."

One train, Rod.

"Will you take me back?"

She could only stare. And then, slowly, she began to understand. And slowly, she began to smile.

God I love that smile. What I would do to keep her smiling.

Six months later, New York

"Carson hates me," I said plainly.

"No he doesn't! And dude I just gotta say, I've never seen anyone kick a fifty-pound metal box up six feet into another man's head before." Joey was trying to keep serious, I could tell. But I could also tell that he wasn't doing a great job. Considering what just went on about a minute ago out there, I couldn't blame him. Even The Mick had to excuse himself and walked rather hurriedly out of my dressing room, probably because he didn't want anyone to watch when he wets himself laughing at me.

"Joey."

"Yeah Rod?"

"I kicked a guitar amp into his face."

"Oh he deserved it. He kept calling you Fart Boy through the entire interview."

"So when he asked he to demonstrate my skills at the guitar, I crack his skull right open for calling me names?"

"You didn't mean to."

"Tell that to the doctors sewing his head back on right now."

"Enough of that," Joey laughed. "You have to get ready for your performance don't you?"

I guess I did. My first televised, live performance. I guess I should be more nervous about it. I probably would be, if I wasn't sitting here mulling over whether I'd be facing murder charges later on when Carson dies from blood loss.

"I heard that you fired your last wardrobe and makeup lady months ago, right?" Joey asked.

I blinked. "How'd you know?"

"Dude, there' been ads up all over town about it, asking for anyone with experience."

Kevin, I realized with a smirk. And then I found something else to mull over; whether I'd thank him or kill him the next time I saw the guy. Probably both.

"Well anyway I saw them," he continued, "So I invited a few guys I knew whom I've worked with down here to help you out."

Awwww. "Joey, you didn't have to do that. You've done too much for me al-" He silenced me with a casual wave of his hand.

"You don't have to use them if you don't wanna, I just brought them down to see how things go. Hey," he called outside the room, "You guys can come in now."

One second I was just sitting there, wondering what kinds of makeup people Joey knew, the next I was face to face with two...uh, guys. One had the darkest eyes and scariest goatee I've ever seen in my life, plus some weird leather biker fetish goin' on. The other guy looked about fourteen years old, had on a baby blue cowboy hat and, uh, a pink shirt that I could only pray was not backless. Scary Guy #1 rushed up to me and ran his hands through my hair. I think I screamed in fright but can't really remember.

"He hass de mostt BEEEE-utifull harrr in de VORLD!!" Scary Guy #1 exclaimed.

"Really? Ith that tho??" Scary Guy #2 jumped up and down in glee. "Let me thee!"

"NOO!" #1 shrieked in a high tone of which I was certain until today could not possibly exist in male voices. "NOOOO! De harrr esss MINE!!!!! Yu cann go and do de makeup!"

"But you alwayth get the good partth! I alwayth get thtuck doing..." #2 paused and looked at me. I'm not sure what I looked like right then, but I imagine I most have done a fairly good impression of the deer-caught-in-highlights phenomeona. "HITH FAYTH! He hath thuch a pretty fayth! Oh ROD that'th tho GORGEOUS!!!"

"Joey, help me!" I finally yelped.

"You don't like Pistol and Angelo?" Joey sounded disappointed.

"He dosnn't liek us?" Scary Guy #1 Angelo whispered, his voice going several octaves higher until it sounded shrill and wow that hurt me.

"I didn't say that..."

Suddenly Pistol grabbed me and started to wail. "WHYYYY??? WHY DON'T YOU LIKE UTH??"

"Uhhh!" I grabbed my guiter and used it to pry the insane cowboy off of me like a crowbar. "I have to uh go perform now I'll see you guys later. Joey," I emphasized this part, "We'll. Talk. Later."

I ran the heck out of there as fast as I could, leaving the three of them confused. Outside, I thought for a minute, then took out my cell phone, calling the first number that came to mind.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Come on, pick up.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Pick up.

"Hello?"

I leaned gently against the wall and felt like bursting into song right there in the middle of the room. "Julie?? It's me. Are you watching TV right now?"

"Welcome back to TRL!" John Norris said as the crowd cheered. "Well Carson suffered an unfortunate accident before the commercial-"

"I said was sorry," I mumbled from up onstage. "I've said it over and over."

"-so I'll be taking over for the rest of the show. Now here to perform the first single off of his highly anticipated debut album, 'On the Line,' please welcome...Rod Anthony!"

I shut my eyes. In my personal fantasy sequence, I grinned at the cameras and at the crowds. Everyone watched me intently, wonder in their faces. I silently cued the band behind me and struck the first chord. Immediately there were cheers. Moments later I started singing, and everything was perfect.

I opened my eyes, snapping out of my thoughts. Only one thing left to do.

Nothing is certain, this I know; Wherever we're headed...

I'm ready to go.

Rod Anthony
On the Line
Silver Records
"*****"

Track listing:
01. Ready to Fall
02. For Heaven's Sakes
03. Granite
04. The Turd Song
05. Debt
06. Mystic Pizza
07. Bulldozer
08. Passion
09. In the Zone
10. Windy City
11. Celebration
12. Just Like You

Review by Julie Lawson
Chicago Daily Editorial Staff...

The lyrics to "Just Like You" is copyrighted to ChuDogg Music, because I wrote it and will sue your azz off if you take it and use it. Thank you.

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