Late May 2000.

I had driven down to Los Angeles for the release of "Pop Trash." I had just finished the school year and figured I deserved to give myself a little mini-vacation. I also wished to look up John and see how he was doing, maybe check in and see if Atlanta, his little "Bean," was in town. I missed my god daughter considerably.

It was nearly impossible to pack for the trip. I had decided I would stay in town for a couple days in a hotel. But I couldn't really decide what to wear. I thought of a bunch of different outfits, but all the while, I missed Helena. I missed our late-night talks before she headed for St. Andrews. By this time, I was aware that she was still happily married to Matt McCarthy, and they had two kids. But they were so busy. Matt's band, Rampage, was now enjoying local success in New York, and she was now a music video director in the big city. Which meant that I talked to her less and less.

I would finger a slinky black dress and think, gosh this would look so good on Helena's fabulous figure and *not* on me, then realize that she wasn't there for me anymore. She was a girl who went after her dreams and she has been so lucky in love. I still remembered those days when she called me up from her dorm at St. Andrews to tell me that Matt had sent her flowers again, and that he had written her more poems telling her how much he loved her.

Sigh.

But first things first. Finally I had chosen some simple things, then had driven down to L.A. After freshening up at the hotel, I changed into my outfit for the night. A dark purple sheath dress, and these silver pumps I'd found in a boutique in Haight Ashbury which I thought the boys might appreciate. Very un-Gracelike.

I drove up to the hotel where they were holding the shindig, gracefully stepping out of my dark green Mustang to hand my keys over to the valet. When I entered the ballroom of the hotel, I looked around at all the well-dressed people milling about. These are the beautiful people of now, I thought to myself, thinking of the days when the beautiful people were Stephen Sprouse, Andy Warhol, and other fashionable artistes...

"Grace!"

I looked around, taking a cursory glance. I was greeted at the release party by one very jovial, slightly inebriated Simon LeBon. He saw me come in I guess, and he gave me a gigantic hug.

"Aughhhhh!" I screamed as Simon surprised me. I giggled in surprise. "LeBon, if I didn't know better, I'd think you had a crush on little ol' me!"

"Maybe I do," Simon joked, giving me a friendship kiss on the cheek. "No seriously love, I'm dead chuffed you've come. On this very special night." I was reminded of the time, years ago, when we took a picture together and Simon had insisted on being a ham. I had this picture of Simon with his arm around me, and Simon LeBon had fish lips!

I smiled, hugging him back. I was genuinely happy and excited to see someone very important from my younger years. Seeing Simon made me flashback to the early '80s when I first met him.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world!" I had seriously missed him - he reminded me of a time that was carefree, youthful and free. I'd been so busy lately that I hadn't felt that I was truly living my life. Now I was reconnecting with a part of my life that had been shut down for so long.

Simon led me to the bar, and sideways introduced me to some of the Hollywood Records execs. Then he personally introduced me to Warren. I'd of course known of Warren, but I never had the opportunity to really have a conversation with him. When Simon left us to go get some drinks for us, I finally got to know Warren. He seemed so differnet than Simon and Nick, but I had to admit that Warren had a great personality and I definitely decided he would turn out to be a good friend. He was so different because he was a health nut and was a macrobiotic. Warren seemed completely disinterested in style and appearance, at least in the vein that Nick and Simon were involved, which worried me. I wondered how this conflict survived. I wondered if this compromised their relationship, and whether or not I would find over the course of the evening that Nick and Simon had changed.

"It's so nice to finally meet you Warren," I said, as he took his hand in mine, shaking it jovially.

"Same here!" Warren replied. "I've heard so much about you from Nick and Si, I feel like you're family already."

"I feel like I know you already, through all the amazing Duran Duran guitar riffs you've introduced into my psyche, Warren," I answered, grinning. Warren's ears started to turn pink.

"Thanks," he smiled. "John told me a long time ago that you played a mean bassline."

I nodded. "Yes, many moons ago, me and my brother had a garage band. Actually, did John tell you about the time I met the band? When I was still working for Tower Records?"

"Yes, he told me about the time you showed him up." I laughed. "He told me he had great regard for you as a bass player. Said you had a mean Fender. You still play?"

"Not much as I did when I was in high school. I'm a teacher and freelance writer now. Had to grow up sometime."

Now it was Warren's turn to laugh. "Grow up? I still haven't grown up." We shared smiles. "You ever been married?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Haven't had the fortune of meeting Mr. Right."

We talked a little while longer, about his son, about the band, about the new article I'd been asked to write for Parents magazine. Then I asked, "where's my buddy, Nick?"

"Oh, he'll be along later, I think," Warren said. "You know Nick, always the fashion plate. Oh yes, I was supposed to tell you, Nick invited Helena McCarthy. He told me to tell you."

I laughed, relieved. So Nick hadn't changed. "What color is his hair this time?" I joked. "Helena, huh? I haven't seen that girl in *years.* This should be interesting. Does Simon know?"

Before Warren could answer, Simon came back with my drink - a screwdriver with an orange wedge. He took me away to talk to me.

"Yeah Simon, what's up? Oh, you know Warren is a great conversationalist. I like him already."

"Oh good, I'm glad you two are getting along. Uh, I just wanted to tell you about something. Well, I wanted to give you a warning."

My brow furrowed. "What? Warning for what?"

Simon glanced at the ground for a moment. As if he was afraid to tell me directly. "Well, uh..we sort of invited John."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and we also invited his wife too.

"His wife?!? I thought he had divorced Amanda. Did they have a change of heart?"

"Yeah...but he met someone back in '98, I believe," Simon said.

Interesting that he doesn't let his own child's godmother know about this important bit of information.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Simon asked, worried.

I shrugged. "Why? Should it?"

"I just thought that you might be upset."

I sighed. "I'd only be upset if John was unhappy in the relationship. And I think I'm happy. As happy as I'm destined to be, anyway. Maybe my destiny knows something I don't yet."

"What do you mean?" Simon said, taking a sip of his wine.

"My astrology says, that I'm destined to be single for the rest of my life," I replied, "something to do with my individuality." My shoulders sagged. "What can you say? I wouldn't mess with my horoscope."

Simon put his glass down, and grabbed my shoulders to give me another hug. "Honey, Grace...you don't believe that stuff, do you? Really now."

I shrugged. "I don't know. But lately I hate being single. I'm so lonely! Sometimes I feel like ending it all, I wonder sometimes what I'm supposed to be doing here on the planet..." I started to cry.

"Grace! Never think like that. You'll find someone. Really. You will."

"I just want to be happy. Like you and Yaz. Andy and Tracey. Rog and Giovanna," I sniffled.

"You'll find him. Trust me." Simon held me in his arms a bit longer. "God I wish Nick would hurry up and get here. I know he'd know what to say."

Simon squinted, looking in the distance. "It couldn't be *her* could it?" he said, walking towards the bar quickly.

"Who, Simon?" I asked. But by then, Simon was out of earshot. I'd have to ask later.