Disclaimer: I do not own the gentlemen of Good Charlotte, they belong to Epic and their moms. This is fiction, as in it never happened.

“Sorry, I’m not a big loser-geek. Don’t spend time at local libraries printing off crap from the message boards.”

“They shut down the message board,” Paul mumbled, shaking his head. There had been some ugly things going on, but luckily he didn’t quite give a fuck. “These are stories and stuff, about us.”

CJ sat down on the bench seat opposite Paul, in the front lounge of the tour bus. “Stories?” She reached for the pages and he gave the back half of them to her.

“Yeah, like, fan fiction about our band.”

CJ chewed distractedly on her lip ring as she read one of the pages. “I dig fan fiction, but what’s the deal with all the slash?”

Paul looked over at her. “What’s slash?”

“That’s like when you and Billy have sloppy, unabashed sex in front of the twins,” CJ laughed, slapping the page down on the table and pointing to the paragraph. Paul read it for himself, open-mouthed, a blush leaping into his cheeks. The reaction sent CJ into a rolling wave of laughter because the kid hardly ever got embarrassed enough to blush.

“Holy crap,” he breathed.

“Like, 90% of these stories are about… ‘relations’,” she finger-quoted, “between you guys.”

“Holy crap,” he reprised. “This is mad explicit.”

“Why you still reading it, dub?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked up at her then slid the page back over her way and looked back at his much more innocent story about general tour debauchery. After a few moments he glanced over at CJ as she quietly read more of the pages she had in her hand. “Dude, now I can’t concentrate on any of this crap anymore.” He hopped up and threw the pages into the trashcan.

“Can’t get it out of your head, hunh?”

Paul turned and looked back at her. “Shut up.”

“You know, the only way to get it out is to resolve it.”

“You’ve completely warped my mind.”

“You just have to finish reading the story,” CJ finished. She dangled the story from her fingertips, smirking, watching Paul’s eyes follow it, his tongue wetting his lips as he thought it over. “You know you want it,” she sing-songed.

“Okay, okay,” Paul said as he slid into the bench seat next to her, snatching the pages from her hand and picking up where he had left off. CJ put her chin on his shoulder and read along with him, glancing up at his face every now and then to check on his reactions. He remained surprisingly stoic throughout, eyes bouncing quickly over the printed words. There was quite the descriptive explanation of oral sex between the two most slender band members, and Paul’s eyes slowed to understand the nuances of the scene. Joel came onto the tour bus and regarded them curiously as he slung his bag into his bunk.

“What’s up?” Joel asked.

CJ laughed. “Don’t ask.” They reached the end of the vignette and looked at one another, exhaling a simultaneous breath. “Who needs a cigarette?”

“I know I do,” Paul said, getting up out of the bench seat to search for his pack of smokes. The guys didn’t like for him to smoke on board the bus, so he shrugged on a coat to combat the chilly wind outside, finding his crumpled pack of Winstons in the pocket. Despite having the cash to invest in more classy cigarettes, like American Prides, he had just gotten used to the taste of the W’s. Outside, CJ huddled against Paul as he lit one up and took a long, slow drag. She didn’t smoke anymore, but she always accompanied Paul when he did. Poor guy, had to go outside to partake in his habit, making it seem like some sinful business he was supposed to hide from the world.

“Why the hell would kids write that shit?” Paul asked.

CJ shrugged. “Teenage girls are horny,” she reasoned. “And girls like erotic literature.” She looked up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And guys are much more visual. You’d rather watch a porn and I’d rather read a romance novel.” She wrinkled her nose at the notion of cracking the spine of a Harlequin book written by someone named Sierra L’amour. “Theoretically,” she added.

Paul thought about that. “You ever written anything like that?”

She laughed in a plume of condensation. “No, dude. I like to write stories with a plot.”

Billy showed up and grinned at the two of them as he approached. “Hey you two,” he said softly. “You guys hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” CJ replied.

“We should figure out where to go eat,” Billy said as he rounded his shoulders to hunker from the wind. “You know what’s weird? I could really go for a hotdog.” Paul choked on his current lungful of smoke, coughs wracking his body as CJ clapped him on the back while stifling laughter. Billy didn’t get the joke and looked at them with the same look Joel had given them earlier. Billy knew the request was strange given the fact that he hadn’t eaten meat in years, but this reaction was just a little more than he had expected.

“You- you okay, Paul?” He asked, bending down to him as he attempted to recover his breath. Paul wordlessly waved him away in an assurance of his health. “Uh,” Billy looked up at CJ then back down at Paul. “Well… I’m gonna go see if Joel wants to hunt down a tofu-dog… or if he just wants to watch me eat one.” Paul and CJ started the boil of laughter all over again, Paul losing strength in his knees and putting a hand on the ground to support himself and CJ, as she was draped over his back. Billy frowned and backed away a few steps, completely confused by their actions. “Whatever,” he mumbled dismissively as he hopped into the bus to find Joel.

“Oh, crap. Tell me you set that up,” Paul managed to choke out through hoarse laughter.

“Nope. That was too funny to be contrived.”

“I think I pissed myself.”

“Hey what’s so funny?” Benji asked as he started to get on the bus.

“God, please don’t say anything,” CJ said to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she spoke, attempting to stabilize herself on her feet.

“Well, shit. Fuck you guys, too.” CJ and Paul looked at one another, nothing about that statement striking them incredibly funny. They breathed a sigh of relief as Benji turned and climbed the last two steps into the bus. They overheard Billy ask Benji about splitting a tofu-dog before the door shut behind him.

Paul extinguished the cigarette butt beneath his left boot and looked up at the sky as it darkened to deep purples. Dusk had passed not long ago and he could only see his companion in silhouettes. They both looked just beyond the roof of the venue, marveling at the slight pink of the fading swatches of clouds that seemed to hang almost low enough to jump up and catch. They started walking without a word to one another, moving west, as though to try to chase down the last light of day. The streets were very much alive with restaurant goers, window shoppers and bored teenagers looking for anything interesting to do. “What do you wanna eat?” Paul asked CJ as they moved down the main drag. He looked around and noticed that she had stopped short a few paces behind him. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Ssh.” She put her hand up to him and cocked her head.

“What?”

“Ssh,” she hissed again and closed her eyes, turning ninety degrees and backtracking to the last intersection they had crossed. She seemed to be listening for something that had to be echoing down the narrow side street. When Paul looked down into the relative darkness of the street he noticed a slight glow two or three blocks down. CJ must’ve noticed it as well because she began venturing towards it, the sound that Paul was straining to hear swelling as they approached.

“Whoa,” he marveled when they came upon a small group of men and women standing around a fire that was lit on the top of an old oil drum. Their dark faces flickered in the wavering orange glow of the fire, and they acknowledged Paul and CJ’s presence with quick glances, but it didn’t disrupt their activities. They were singing a robust song, full of flats, minor harmony, and melodies hovering just on this side of heaven. When one song ended it was hard to tell because they all seemed just to know how to slide into the next, taking silent cues from one another to determine if to repeat a chorus or move on, holding the most impossible chords for long moments, letting them die into a low hum that was less heard and more felt. Paul felt CJ’s hand sneak into his as she watched them, her mouth pressed shut, the fire glancing off of her glasses. He became aware that she was mouthing the words to the current song. He bent and asked her how she knew the song.

“There are things I miss,” was all she whispered in reply.

Paul looked questioningly at her and saw the shimmer in her eyes as tears clung there, not yet willing to well out and touch her cheeks. Her hand tightened on his and she put her cheek against his shoulder. One of the older women on the far side of the fire was facing them and she gently motioned CJ to join the group, sit inside the circle, within the warm glow of the fire. Paul encouraged her to go but she hesitated, biting her lower lip as she seemed to consider it, taking a step cautiously forward, then closing her eyes and shaking her head, retreating into shadow. Her hand slipped from Paul’s as she moved away from the scene. “Wait,” he whispered. He reached into his pocket and produced two crumpled twenties and left them in the jar, then he jogged to catch up with CJ as she walked quickly away, her head down. “Whoa, whoa,” he called to her, his voice echoing off of the houses around them as he caught her elbow and slowed her to a stop. She let him turn her to face him, but she didn’t look up. “Hey, what happened back there?”

CJ hung her head, then sat down on the curb and motioned for Paul to sit next to her. He did so and waited for an explanation. It was a long time in coming. She sat in silence at first, taking deep breaths as Paul leaned forward to look into her face that was lit by the low-hanging moon that shone through the trees. They both sat with their hands jammed inside their coat pockets, the silence beginning to irk Paul. He nudged her leg with his and she at last looked him in the eyes and saw the compassion there. He wanted to be let in. “Paul…” she began softly, drawing out the name in an affectionate way.

“What’s with the tears?” He ventured.

She sniffed and shook her head. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Paul said quickly. “Just tell me what’s up.”

CJ looked down at the street beneath her feet, the darkness seeming to rise up to meet her, wrapping around her in cold tendrils that burrowed into her flesh, making her shiver. “Those were deep songs back there,” she said. “That comes from somewhere… I dunno… a place that inherently speaks to me, but at the same time…” She felt something stir violently in her chest as she attempted to voice something that she had felt for so long, ever since she became conscious of the concept of difference, of being apart. She laid a hand on her heart to attempt to allay the sensation. “You know I love touring with you guys.” She looked up at him as Paul listened intently. He nodded to encourage her along. “I love it, I’ve never wanted and completely enjoyed anything more than this. You know that.”

“I know now,” Paul whispered.

Her face took on a slightly incredulous look, her eyebrows rising, her eyes wide and mouth slightly slack. She took her hand from her pocket and reached towards him, her fingertips just brushing along his cheek, just hard enough for his skin to react in a tickle, before she pulled away. “It’s all I ever wanted,” she assured him. “You guys are everything to me. Jesus Christ, you don’t know that?” Her eyes searched his for any recognition of her sentiment. He had known. It had been perfect to hear her say it, but he had known. She cast her eyes down to her feet again as she scoot closer to Paul, linking her arm with his and returning her hand to her pocket. “You’d think this would be enough, right? Touring with you guys. But then I think about the stuff I maybe gave up by… by choosing to be the way I am. But… you know, I didn’t choose it.” She’d never really even evaluated why spirituals and hymns moved her so immediately to bitter tears. Looking up into Paul’s face again to draw strength from his tender gaze, CJ pointed back down the darkened street. “That’s something Black folk embrace as all their own. And the thing is, I’m always told I have no right. I have no right to sing along… I’m not alike enough, I haven’t had the right experiences, I don’t act the right way. Maybe I’m not worthy of it. Every time the music stirs me I just feel even more apart because I want to internalize it so much, but the schism widens. I’m reminded of how much I’m semi-embraced but still kept at a distance.” She was silent for a long moment, still staring at her red sneakers on the black top. She felt Paul’s lips brush her ear slightly. “You know what it reminds me of?” She continued, a smile flitting across her lips as Paul’s breath tickled her. “My family. They look at me like a stranger, or a deviant, but invite me in by obligation of blood. What the hell kind of relationship is that?” Precariously contained misery, she answered herself.

Paul wrapped her in his firm grasp and let her nuzzle her face against his neck. His voice came deep and soothing to her, chasing away the chills that had begun to wrack her body. “Alienation is bad enough when it comes from acquaintances. I can’t imagine it from family.” He felt her lips against the pulsing spot on his throat and lost his voice for a moment, finding it again when she gave him a moment to think. “You got us, though, Ceej. Fuck everybody else.” He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, shimmering like pools of ink behind her black-framed glasses. “You got me.” She blinked at him, eyes wide to try to capture every feature of his face. “I mean…” he stopped, finding the words clinging in his throat. He cleared it. “We’ve been hanging out a whole lot, just you and me, and I feel like I know you really well. And…” Something in his mind couldn’t make the leap his heart wanted to. “I’m always learning something new about you, and I love that.” Paul wasn’t used to being able to learn something new about his traveling companions. Having known the guys for as long as he did, it was rare that he came across something significant and new about them, and even if he did they would probably deny it. CJ was willing to divulge some of the deepest things to him when given time, and every time he thought he knew her, she peeled away another layer, revealing herself in a rare vulnerable form. “Nothing, absolutely nothing has ever indicated to me that you’re less than an awesome person. There’s nothing in your personality that’s missing, no matter what anybody tells you.”

CJ took Paul’s wrists and pulled his hands away from her face, setting them in her lap, never looking away from his eyes. She sucked on her lip ring and looked down at his full lips, thinking. Often she watched people’s lips when they spoke, and her eyes easily drifted there when she wasn’t concentrating on keeping them locked on the eyes. “Paul,” she shook her head and smiled. “You’re way too good for me.” She jumped into a hug with him, catching him off guard as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He nearly fell backwards but caught his balance at the last moment, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hands creeping under her shirt, into warm contact with her skin, and squeezing with matched fervor. CJ pulled back and kissed him on the lips, then hid her face in his shoulder as she hugged him tightly again. Paul pulled her up to her feet and led her back towards the well lit main street, CJ’s arms wrapped around his midsection, Paul’s right arm around her shoulders.

Letting Paul see her vulnerable was coming easier to her every day. CJ wasn’t used to letting any man have the upper hand at any time, meaning letting them know her weaknesses, and letting herself go blindly forward with only her heart to guide her. And, who the hell knew, it persistently led her into the soft, gooey gaze and firm, affectionate embrace of Paul Thomas. He began to talk about lighter things, making fun of the outfits that people were wearing, picking up for the lack of banter on her part. He looked down and caught her looking up at him, wordless, a smirk on her face. “What?” He asked.

The smile never dropped from her lips and she never looked away from his face as she let a silence grow between them as they weaved between the other people on the street. “Indian food,” she said. “I could go for some Indian food.”

Paul glanced down at her, leading her around a group of boys fighting on the sidewalk. “All right. Sounds good.”

“Hey, hey! It’s the love birds!” Benji called to them from about thirty feet ahead of them, waving. Billy turned towards them and smiled, Joel preoccupied with flirting with a girl that leaned against the brick face of a furniture store. He dismissed her as Paul and CJ approached, however. “You guys eaten yet?” Benji asked them.

“Nope,” Paul said.

“We figured Indian food. That’ll have vegetarian and non-vegetarian stuff, so everybody’s happy,” CJ told them.

“Always lookin’ out, aren’t you, Ceej?” Billy asked, grabbing her by the head and spreading out his long, slender fingers, gripping her cranium from all sides.

She pulled away and lightly punched him in the stomach. “Hey, just cuz you’re taller than me doesn’t mean I can’t whup your ass, kid.”

He held her away from him with one long limb and laughed as she attempted to reach him with her feet. The guys all laughed and started away from them, walking down the street with an eye out for an Indian food restaurant. Billy and CJ broke up their fight when they realized that they were being left behind.