Shea:

 

Tristan grew everyday and soon he wasn’t the tiny, bald baby I used to cradle in my arms, but a bubbly six-month-old boy with a sprinkling of blond hair on top his head. His big, bright blue eyes took in everything, darting to and fro as if he would miss something. He loved Brian. I could see it on his face when Brian made faces at him or blew zerberts on his ticklish feet, causing him to laugh and giggle.

            I couldn’t believe how much he looked more and more like Nick with each passing day. I found myself just watching him and remembering the days and nights I used to spend with his father. I couldn’t believe it had been over a year since I had last felt Nick’s loving touch. That I had been last snuggled in his endearing embrace.

            It was late night two weeks before Christmas. As I laid in bed with Tristan sleeping soundly by my side, I flicked through the channels, finding nothing but infomercials and soft-core porn. But then I stopped, seeing Nick’s face fill the screen on Entertainment Tonight.

            “It’s official, ladies. Nick Carter is off the market once again. Movie star Reagan Adams captured the hearts of millions a year ago with her first movie Rogues. Now it appears she has captured the heart of Nick Carter as well,” the ET host began.

            “Adams and Carter met five months ago while shooting Deep Deception, the romantic thriller due out in May. Here’s what Nick had to say about his new-found love.” The ET host focused her attention on the TV at her side.

            “Reagan is the most wonderful person alive and I am truly blessed to have found her. I’ve never experienced feelings like this before. Not with anyone.” As he said those last words, he looked directly into the camera. It felt as if he knew I’d be watching and he aimed those heart-wrenching words right at me.

            I shut the TV off as the tears crept down my cheeks. I gazed at my son, watching his deep breathing fill up his chest, knowing he was Nick’s son, but also knowing Nick didn’t care. I chucked the remote across the room and hit the door with a loud crack, startling Tristan and making him erupt into loud, scared cries. I picked him up in my arms and cradled him against my body. I pulled my knees up to my chest and sobbed into my son, my cries matching his.

 

Brian:

 

            A loud crack jerked me awake, my heart pounding frantically in my chest. I could hear Tristan wailing and horrible thoughts filled my mind. I quickly scrambled out of bed, throwing a T-shirt on over my bare chest, and raced through the kitchen to Shea’s room.

            I thrust open the door and Shea, Tristan pressed tightly against her, sobbing hysterically. “Shea, what is it?!” I asked, my voice panicked and scared. She lifted her head up and stared at me through the torrent of tears pouring from her eyes and streaming down her golden-hued face. “Please, Shea. Tell me,” I begged, smoothing her unruly curls away from her face. She didn’t speak, but just looked at Tristan. Her chest heaved and her shoulders jerked with uncontrollable sobs. I picked Tristan up and cuddled him His frantic wails stopped, but Shea’s continued.

            I knelt at her side, Tristan in one arm, and stroked her cheek and hair until her sobbing calmed and she regained some of her composure. I placed Tristan into his crib, and crawled into bed to sit at Shea’s side. “Please, Shea. Tell me what’s wrong,” I begged again.

            Shea sighed heavily and wiped the few remaining tears from her eyes. “When Tristan asks who his father is, what am I going to tell him?” she asked, staring into my face.

            “Tell him the truth, Shea. Tell him his father didn’t care that he existed. Tell him his father didn’t love him,” I replied. I never thought the day would come that I would bash my best friend, but it did and it felt good to rid myself of some of the pent-up hostility I felt toward Nick.

            Shea just looked at me, her eyes once again beginning to drip salty tears. “I’ll be his father,” I added, stroking her cheek gently and staring into her piercing blue eyes. Her eyes penetrated mine, searching for the reasoning behind my bizarre statement. I knew now was not the best time to unload my feelings toward her, but she had the right to know.

            “I know you probably don’t want to hear this,” I began as I wiped away a tear from her cheek, “but I’m falling in love with you. You are everything I could ever want and more. You are the most beautiful, the most perfect, creature I have ever had the privilege of laying my eyes upon,” I continued.

            “B-Rok,” Shea started.

            “Please, let me finish,” I interrupted. “I love your son. I think of him as my own. Of my son with you,” I finished, drawing in a deep breath.

            The room filled with an uneasy silence, so I took it as an opportunity to make my move. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her dampened cheek. I pulled back and gazed into her glistening blue eyes before leaning forward again to place my lips on hers. They grazed hers lightly, but Shea pulled away. “Brian, I’m flattered. I really am. That is the nicest thing a person has ever said to me,” she started.

            “But,” I interjected.

            “But, I still love Nick. As stupid as that sounds, I can’t deny it. I will always have feelings for you, of that you can be sure, but I can’t love you.”

            I felt tears of my own start building up and one trickled down my cheek. “Why is it I always fall in love with the ones who don’t love me back?” I asked with a chuckle.

            “I’m sorry, Brian, but I don’t want to hurt you in the end and lose the friendship that we have now,” Shea stated as she caressed my cheek.

            “I know, Shea. I know,” I sniffed. She laid down on her back and pulled me down to her. I laid my head on her chest and she stroked my hair with her loving, motherly hand. “May I stay?” I asked meekly.

            “Of course, Brian,” she whispered. I wrapped my arms around her waist as she clicked off the bedside lamp. I fell asleep to the sound and feel of her methodical breathing, my heart broken in two once again.

 

Shea:

 

Things got strained between Brian and I after than night. We didn’t talk as much as we used to and he went out more than he had before. I knew I had hurt him, but what else could I do when the only man I had ever wanted despised me and the child we’d created together?

            I found myself taking Tristan for long, afternoon walks around Central Park after work to clear my head and think about the path my life was taking. A path nowhere. I still had the same job, but since I had left the BSB tour a year and a half before, it felt like it was leading me no where and I hadn’t felt a man’s touch since AJ and I had engaged in the act that destroyed my life.

            It was on one of our afternoon walks that I received my second surprise. Christmas Eve. A day I’d never forget. I had bundled Tristan up in his down and fleece snowsuit to protect his delicate baby skin from the biting cold December weather. Although very little snow covered the New York streets, the air was crisp and cold.

            Clad in my winter parka and stocking cap, Tristan and I walked the perimeter of Central Park. The small lake was frosted over with a thin layer of ice and the trees stood naked against the winter wind. A man in a fedora and a long, dark trench coat with fur cuffs walked in the direction toward me. His eyes bored into me as we passed each other, the cool, green iris sending shivers down my spine.

            A few seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me, Miss,” a deep voice said.

            I turned around hesitantly and found myself staring into those cool, green eyes. “Yes?” I asked with trepidation.

            “I didn’t me to startle you, but I’m Randolph Moyer, representative of DreamWorks Pictures,” the man began, handing me a business card. “Have you ever done any entertainment work?” he questioned.

            “I’m a dancer. Toured with the Backstreet Boys about 18 months ago. I haven’t done anything since I got pregnant with my son,” I answered.

            “I knew it! You have that flair,” Randolph said with a wide smile. “I worked with Nick Carter on Deep Deception. Did he tell you that?” he inquired.

            “No. We don’t get the chance to speak much,” I replied.

            “Well, do you want me to arrange something? A reunion so to say?” Randolph asked, rubbing his bare palms together for warmth.

            I avoided the question, not knowing quite how to answer. “My apartment’s not far from here,” I said. “Would you like to come up for a cup of coffee?” I asked Mr. Moyer.

            “That would be wonderful,” Randolph accepted.

            I led Randolph up the four flights of stairs to my apartment and opened the door. Brian greeted me at the door and unfastened Tristan’s seat belt, picking him up out of the stroller. He held Tristan on his hip and eyeballed Randolph suspiciously. “Randolph Moyer, this is my roommate Brian Littrell,” I introduced Brian and Randolph to each other.

            “Ah, yes. You were in the Backstreet Boys as well,” Randolph stated, shaking Brian’s hand.

            “As well?” Brian inquired, shifting Tristan to his other hip.

            “Yes. I worked with Nick on Deep Deception,” Randolph explained. “I’m a rep from DreamWorks Pictures,” he added.

            “I see,” Brian said unenthusiastically. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone to talk. Tristan and I will be in my room watching a little b-ball,” Brian stated as he carried Tristan through the kitchen to his bedroom.

            “Please, have a seat, Randolph,” I said, gesturing to the table. “Coffee?”

            “Yes, please. Thank you,” Randolph accepted, taking a seat at the small round table.

            “So, why did you stop me in the park today?” I questioned, setting two cups of steaming black liquid on the flat surface of the table.

            “Well, I actually want to offer you a part in a new movie I’m organizing and producing,” Randolph answered.

            “What?” I asked, sputtering on my coffee.

            “It’s a historical romance that will be filmed here in New York City so you won’t have to relocate. You’d be playing Helen, the temptress,” Randolph explained.

            “Why me?” I inquired.

            “You look like the perfect Helen in my eyes. The very vision of Helen I’ve been carrying with me since I began my search. You have the golden skin, expressive, passionate eyes, wild exotic hair. You are truly astounding.”

            I felt my skin flush and creep up my neck to redden my cheeks. I actually felt a little shy and embarrassed by his excessive compliments. “I don’t know what to say,” I murmured in a daze.

            “Come to this address at nine o’clock Tuesday morning. You can decide then,” Randolph replied, handing me another business card. We both turned our heads at the sound of childish laughter. I smiled as I envisioned Brian torturing my son with faces and tickles, making him laugh heartily.

            “Your son is adorable. Takes after his mom,” Randolph said, taking a sip of his coffee.

            “Thank you,” I replied, my cheeks once again growing rosy with embarrassment.

            “Brian seems like the perfect father,” Randolph added.

            I chuckled softly. “Yes. Brian does look like the perfect father, but he’s not Tristan’s father.”
            “Oh! I’m sorry,” Randolph apologized. “I guess I just assumed.”

            “That’s okay, Randolph. He’s like Tristan’s father. He’s the only father figure that Tristan has ever known.”

            “You never answered my question earlier,” Randolph said, changing the subject.

            “What was that again?” I asked, already knowing what it was.

            “Do you want me to arrange a get-together for you and Nick?” he probed.

            “No thanks, Randolph. That’s very sweet of you, but we kind of ended the tour on bad terms,” I declined.

            Randolph stared at me, studying my face, which made me feel uneasy, but his gaze broke when Brian reentered the kitchen. “I gotta go. I’m meeting AJ for drinks,” Brian said, placing a still giggling Tristan in my lap.

            “AJ’s in town?” I questioned with surprise.

            “Yeah. Johnny No Name’s got a show tonight,” Brian answered. “Don’t wait up for me,” he shouted as he closed the door behind him.

            “What about dinner at Kevin and Lauryn’s?” I hollered back. But it was too late. The door had closed and I heard Brian’s footsteps descending the stairs.

 

Randolph Moyer:

 

            I sat across from Shea and watched her and her son. Tristan sat on his mother’s lap, kicking his tiny legs and flailing his tiny arms, his face illuminated with childlike innocence and laughter. The longer I looked at him, the more I noticed something I hadn’t before. He looked like Nick. Then it hit me. He was Nick’s son. That’s why he and Shea had parted on bad terms. Because of this precious blond-headed child sitting on his mother’s thighs. Then I remembered the far-away look in Shea’s eyes when I mentioned Nick’s name. Tristan had to be the fruit of Nick’s loins.

            Now I was faced with an even bigger dilemma. Expose this torrid secret to the press for big, big bucks? Or keep it quiet so to gain another would-be mega star? “Well, I’d better be going myself. Christmas Eve with the family and all and I heard you say you had plans of your own,” I said, rising from my chair. “Thank you and I’ll see you Tuesday.”

            Shea and Tristan walked me to the door where Shea shook my hand warmly. “Thank you, Randolph,” she said with a smile.

 

Lauryn:

 

            “Merry Christmas!” I said, raising my glass of Dom Periogn and clinking my glass with the other two. “Merry Christmas, Shea.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek and the cheek of the adorable sleeping child in her arms as I placed a small package in her free hand.

            She looked at the package with wondering eyes before placing Tristan in my arms. She gingerly untied the red satin ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. Tickets. Front row tickets for Phantom of the Opera. “What’s this?” she asked.

            “I’m Christine!” I said excitedly. “The original Christine is out with mono so starting Friday, I’m her!”

            Shea hugged me tightly. “Omigod! Congratulations, Lauryn! You’ve waited for over a year for this!”

            “I know!” I screamed excitedly. Shea and I jumped up and down like a couple of schoolgirls.

            “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Kevin began, “but I have a gift of my own to give to the one I adore and I want Shea, the other important person in your life, to be witness to it.” My eyes started to mist over as I watched the only man I had ever loved get down on bended knee. “It would make me the happiest person in the world if you would do me the honor of being my wife.” He opened the small velveteen box in his hand and the three-karat diamond in a silver setting sparkled from the glow of the candles. I couldn’t speak. The tears streamed from my blue eyes. I covered my face with my hands, and stared into Kevin’s face.

            “Yes!” I finally managed to squeak out. I held out my hand and Kevin slipped the stunning and elegant ring onto my finger.

            “Merry Christmas, Love,” he whispered.

            “Merry Christmas,” I whispered back.    

            He leaned down and kissed my lips tenderly. I looked over at Shea who had tears of her own dripping down her illuminated face. She approached me and embraced me tightly once again. “I knew this day would come soon. You two are meant to be together,” she said quietly into my ear. Tristan fussed in my arms and Kevin picked him up and held him over his head.

            “Hey, big guy! You are getting so big! How’d you get so big?” Kevin cooed in a high-pitched baby voice as Tristan giggled down into Kevin’s face.

            We stood there, my arm wrapped around Shea’s waist, and watched Kevin father Shea’s son. Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door. I sauntered over to the door and glanced out the peephole. I gasped in shock. It couldn’t be who I thought it was standing on the other side of my door