AN:  Chapter two for your reading enjoyment.  Enjoy.




************************** Fairy Tale: Chapter Two ******************************


And just like that, we were friends.  Me and Chris got along great, too well perhaps, and its 
probably a good thing that there's a ten year difference in age between us.  If we ever had 
children the apocalypse would probably shortly follow.  He was a class clown and I was a class 
clown and together...  Well lets just say our favorite conference room will forever smell of 
pizza and ice cream from one particularly violent food fight.  They never really managed to 
clean all the dried food off the ceiling.  

*NSYNC was between albums and on, really, a hiatus as options were decided and discarded.  
There was talk of Lance frolicking off to become a Russian astronaut.  Of course, there was 
also talk of Lance joining Cirque de Soleil too so yeah...  I was personally voting for the 
talk that put him as a centerfold in Playgirl.  Hate him, love him, that boy is FINE.  

So even though JC and Chris were still insanely busy they spent most of their time in Orlando, 
and with me.  Aren't I a lucky girl?  

Before I could really start to record anything I had to get the technicalities of my contract 
hammered out with Jive and my relationship with WEG and Chris and JC all worked out.  It was 
complicated legal mumbo jumbo that I usually hoisted off on father.  

My sweet loving father who happened to be one of Orlando's top lawyers.  He also happened to 
get caught cheating with his secretary by me when I was thirteen and walked into his office so 
he had this huge load guilt I, in turn, guiltlessly used to my advantage.  

If he thought handling all of my legal affairs would buy back my love that was his delusion.  I 
concentrated on the fun stuff.  

Like working out my musical compositions with JC.  I wouldn't let him mess much with my lyrics 
but I didn't have that man's ear.  It was amazing what he could do with a little tweaking.  I 
learned so much and gained so much more respect for him and everyone in the music business 
during those weeks.  

I also kinda realized how hopelessly out of my depth I was.

But yeah, insecurities buried under a tight happy emotional shell.  Rhianna ALL happy... no 
hysterics here.  No way, no how.  

I also met the wonderful Joey as he came in to work on some promotional stuff and tentative 
song ideas during breaks.  I love Joey.  That man rocks.  

I don't care that he's a pudgy player who occasionally goes blonde and fire engine red.  He's 
like a big horny teddy bear and come on, who can resist that?  He kept me sane when Chris was 
driving me insane and JC had his head stuck up his butt.  Those two events didn't happen often 
but when the stress was getting to me or when I was just PMSing Joey could take me out for 
pizza and all would be right in the world.

Justin, the one who started it all, I didn't meet until I had actually recorded half of my 
album.  He'd been off somewhere, maybe frolicking with Lance.  It was probably just as well.  

JC and Chris and Joey and periodic long distance phone calls from Lance had tried to prepare me 
for the wonder of Justin Timberlake.  They did a good job.  I disliked him almost immediately.

*********************************************************************************

Justin stared down at girl who lay in the middle of the sound room on her stomach, coloring 
what looked to be a Scooby Doo coloring book.  Scooby was purple with a pink nose.  He waited, 
brows raised to his hairline, for her to notice his presence.  

And waited.

And waited.  

When Fred was given lime green hair Justin cleared his throat.  The girl sighed and grabbed a 
teal for the cartoon character's shirt.  

Justin's limited patience snapped.  "Who the hell are you?!" he shouted at the intruder.  

The girl screamed and jumped up, scattering crayons to across the room.  

"What are you doing here?  How did you get past security?"  He continued his interrogation as 
he backed the girl onto the couch in the corner.  She watched him with wide blue eyes as he 
advanced, using every inch of his six two height to his advantage.  When he paused for breath 
she stuck out a small hand like a truce flag.

"I'm Rhianna...  Rhianna Gray."  

Justin's jaw snapped shut.  THIS was Rhianna Gray?  The same woman who's voice could make a 
woman weep and a man long for a cold shower?  The same woman who Chris thought was hysterical, 
JC his protégé, and Joey his new best friend?  His new HOT best friend?  

He stared at her critically.  At the round, round face with baby cheeks.  At the auburn hair 
that was piled in a messy, messy pony tail on top of her head.  At the lack of make up and 
chipped nails painted gothic black.  At the faded Mickey Mouse sweat shirt and baggy pajama 
bottoms.  At the left ring finger which was currently adorned with a Ring Pop, cherry flavored.  
At the small feet with matching, chipped nail polish.  

"You're Rhianna Gray?" he asked, voice dripping something between distaste and disdain.  
"Aren't wannabe divas supposed to be, you know..."  He traced a fully curved human figure in 
the air with his hands and then a figure that was much smaller, and skinnier, and looked 
pointedly at her.  

Rhianna's eyes blazed as she stood and stared him down from her height of an even five one.  
"I don't know.  Aren't pop stars supposed to be... I dunno, NOT assholes?"  

Justin blinked.  

Rhianna marched past him and slammed the door behind her.  She leaned against the wall, 
shaking, and unclenched her fists and memories of a not so pleasant childhood flashed through 
her head and the insecurities she tried to hard to bury tried to resurrect themselves.  

"Well that went well..." she breathed as she willed herself to stop trembling.  

*****************************************************************************************

And so the war began.

I mean yeah, normal childhood.  I didn't get picked on more than any other chubby girl but that 
didn't mean that all us little chubby girls weren't all hurt inside from being picked on.  It 
wouldn't have bothered me, it really wouldn't have, if I hadn't been feeling quite so out of my 
depth.  I mean, I was like the new pet project of one of America's biggest boy bands.

I never even wanted to be a singer and here I was.  It was wonderful and freaking scary and 
having Justin Timberlake stroll in and call me ugly and fat, okay, okay insinuate it, didn't 
exactly endear himself to me.  But I mean why would he care what I thought about him?  

He didn't.  

And why should I care about his opinion?

I didn't.  

Unfortunately the rest of the world couldn't understand why we didn't want to play nice and be 
friends.  Freaking do gooders.  

***************************************************************************************

"Umm Rhianna?"  

Rhianna carefully put another forkful of pie into her mouth, blue eyes fixed across the 
cafeteria of WEG.  "Yes Joey?" she asked sweetly before eating another cream topped bite.  

"What are you doing?"  

Rhianna licked the whip cream off her fork before answering, face blank.  "Eating pie," she 
responded nonchalantly before determinedly taking another bite.  

Joey Fatone frowned and looked at his lunch companion quizzically before following her stare 
to one glaring Justin Timberlake.  He rested his chin on his propped hands.  "All of it?" he 
demanded as he glanced down at the half demolished desert.  He cringed as she turned that too 
sweet smile on him.  He had seen that smile after Chris had jokingly hung her bra from the 
microphone in the sound room.  

Right before she had tried to burn his eyebrows off.  

"Yes Joey."  She ate another bite before turning the full force of her anger back to an 
equally pissed off lead pop star.  "ALL of it."  

Joey watched, interested, as Justin gave Rhianna a look of disgust from across the cafeteria 
and strode out of the room, leaving his salad behind him.  Rhianna's fork clattered to the 
table as she rose as well and smiled genuinely, brightly, down at him.  Sort of.  She wasn't a 
whole lot taller standing then he was sitting.  

"I'm done.  Let's go find Chris and JC.  I got a new idea for track three the other day I 
wanted to sound off with you guys."                         

Joey studied her for another long moment before rising with a shrug.  "Okay.  Umm, Rhi Rhi 
Justin has been around the last couple of days and we were all wondering if you had met yet..."  

The genuine smile flickered and faded for an instant and Joey was surprised to see a look of 
vulnerability flit across features he had come to expect only strength and confidence from.  
"Rhi?" he asked tentatively as he reached out to touch her shoulder.  She shied away from his 
hand and crossed her arms over her chest.  

"We met," she replied flatly.  Joey's jaw tightened and with a force of will he made himself 
relax.  

Ten bucks Justin had been an asshole.  Rhianna didn't have a very high tolerance for assholes.  

"Want me to kick his ass for you?"  The absurd question got the desired reaction as she laughed 
gaily and shook her head, auburn hair flying.  Joey laughed as it the silken ends tickled his 
face.  Rhianna Gray would never be a model, even if she grew a foot, but when she laughed she
really was beautiful.  

"No thank you Joey.  I can handle things quite nicely by myself.  I'm a big girl."  

Joey snorted and reached down to ruffle her hair.  "No sweetie, you're delusional."  

He half expected the kick to the shins but it still hurt like hell.  "Dammit Rhianna!" he 
screamed as he took off down the hall after her.  Rhianna's beautiful laugh echoed in the 
empty cafeteria as the doors swung shut behind them.

**************************************************************************************

It was just little things like that.  We spat, we were tacky to each other, just normal bratty 
high jinks.  Chris thought it was hilarious, especially when I took to calling him Simba, but I 
know Joey and JC and Lance were bothered by it.  I don't know why.  It didn't really affect 
THEIR relationship with the all mighty Justin Timberlake.  I mean those five are like brothers 
and nothing and nobody, especially a little ol upstart like me, was ever going to change that.  

Those three tried to play peacemaker but I wanted nothing to do with it and Justin was 
perfectly happy to continue to disapprove of me.  

Pretty soon it was common knowledge around Jive and WEG and basically most of Orlando that 
there was woman who was immune to Simba's dashing good looks and complete lack of manners.  And 
his personality was such a turn on as well.  Any way, that whole general knowledge thing would 
come back to bite me in the butt later on but I had some more fun things happen to me before 
crap with Justin and I came to a head.  

I finally had my very own photo shoot.  YEAH!  (insert sarcastic retort)  Oh and it went so well 
too.  Stop laughing at me... its not funny!

***************************************************************************************

"Come on Rhianna...." Chris whined.  "Whatever they've done to you can't be THAT bad.  Trust 
me, I've been to enough of these to know.  Please Rhi Rhi..."  

Rhianna stared at herself in the mirror and shook her head.  It wasn't that she looked bad, 
after she got the photographer and wardrobe woman to understand that she wasn't being modest 
and really was a size eight.  She just didn't look like herself, at all.

Her auburn hair was still straight but it had been gelled and slicked and glossed until it 
shone like one of those Pantene ProV commercials.  Her eyes were a bright blue thanks to 
artfully applied gray eye shadow and black eye liner.  They smoldered and her lashes were 
absurdly long thanks to the wonder of mascara.  Rhianna actually had cheek bones thanks to the 
skillfully applied blush and her lips were sinfully full and shining with the help of super 
duty lip gloss.  

Oh no she didn't look bad at all.  She looked... well still not like a conventional diva 
but... voluptuous was the only thing she could think of.  And girls named Rhianna Gray were not 
supposed to be voluptuous.  Not that the reddish brown, clingy sweater, shapely frayed jeans, 
and chunky platforms were helping on the non voluptuous.  She was like a freaking Curves R Us.

"Rhianna Gray get your ass out here!" came an authoritive shout.  She jumped as JC punctuated 
his point by pounding on the door of the dressing and make up room.  

"Oh they just HAD to come and show their support," she muttered darkly to herself.  It wouldn't 
be so bad if she just had to walk out there but NOOOO Chris had to come and JC wanted to and 
Joey just refused to stay home like a good puppy.  She almost wished that Lance was here.  
Lance was the level headed one.  Lance was her friend.  Lance would have kept the other three 
off her back.  

Lance was in freaking Russia.  

The only saving grace of the day was that Justin wasn't here.

Rhianna took a deep breath and went to the door.  She reached for the door knob and cracked 
the door open.  Three ridiculously nosy men tried to peer in and she glared severely at them.  
"I'll come out on one condition," she told them in a hard, hard voice.  She could feel more 
than see the three identical beaming grins.  

"Of course!" came the chorus of easy agreements.  

"No laughing."  

There was a deep silence before JC responded seriously for them all.  "Rhianna sweetie we will 
never laugh at you for how you look.  I promise.  Now how you talk and sing and dance..."  She 
chuckled, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and swung the door open.

Chris, JC and Joey stared at her in mute shock.  Chris was the first one to recover as he 
grabbed her hand and spun her around appreciatively.  "Daaaammmnnn girl.  You were hiding 
because you look like that?!  I'm gonna regret wearing jeans if you're walking around like 
that all day!"  

JC cuffed his older band mate on the back of his spiked head.  "Chris, don't be crude," he 
snapped, eyes fixed on his protégé.  He stepped forward and delicately released her hand from 
Chris's.  His other reached up and touched her chin to raise her down cast eyes.  Blue stared 
trustingly into blue.  "You're beautiful sweetie," he whispered softly and kissed her on one 
cheek.  Rhianna blushed and glanced at Joey who was staring at her in shock.

"Joey?" she asked tentatively as she broke free from JC and waved a newly manicured hand in 
front of his face.  Joey jumped and shook his head ruefully.  "You look gorgeous," he said 
huskily and her blush turned crimson.

"I wasn't fishing for compliments," Rhianna said tartly.  JC laughed.  

"You didn't have to Rhi Rhi.  We're simply stating the truth.  Now go knock them dead."

**************************************************************************************

Well the whole photo shoot did wonders for my self esteem which hadn't been so shaky since I 
had started to umm, develop.  It wasn't fun though because me and the photographer had, well, 
artistic differences which dissolved into a yelling match.

Chris, predictably, thought it was hilarious.  Joey took bets and JC shook his head and took it 
upon himself to placate the pompous idiot.  Give him a come hither look my ass.  I'm not having 
that kind of picture on my CD case thank you very much.  

So it took twice as long as it should have and everyone was stressed out by the end of the day 
but I got the stupid pictures for my CD and promotions and, God help me, autographs, taken and 
finished.  

After that was the music video and, well, we're not going there.  

I don't dance and the only person I dislike more than Simba Timberlake is that little snot 
Wade.  He's gifted, he's amazing, and he's an idiot.  I don't like being bossed around by a 
child who thinks that bleach is a good fashion statement.  I also don't like how he capitalizes 
on his relationship with the guys.  Unless directly asked I don't mention my friendship and 
business matters with *NSYNC.  If I'm gonna make it I'm gonna damn well make it with my own 
crappy music.  

So my music video was sorta limited.  It came out awesome though and I managed to make it 
through without them dressing me up as a tramp.  It helps that I'm not the normal size two 
though.  Its hard for a size eight to pull off tramp without crossing the no no line into 
hooker.  

I did some interviews and spent weeks stuck in the studio polishing up my CD.  I hung out with 
Chris and JC and mostly Joey.  I called Lance and talked to him about everything from my 
insecurities to my hesitant hopes and dreams.  He's so solid and he's into management.  Truly 
into it and not just dabbling around like Chris.  

He's used to giving pep talks and listening and lending a metaphorical shoulder to cry on.  
Hell, half his talent is younger than me.  And it helped that he was in Russia.  It was easier 
to spill my guts to a phone receiver than his sympathetic green eyes.  I've always had issues 
with trust and, stupid or not, I can even with strangers before my good friends.

Justin and I continued to have tiffs and the world was as it should be.                         

And then Carson Daly, along with MTV, thought it would be a good idea to premiere my video on 
TRL.  

Idiots.  

Of course they called and asked me to be a guest that day.  Chris eagerly agreed without 
talking to me first.  

Idiot.  

And so I flew to New York.  By myself.  And went on live national television.  By myself.

I am an idiot.

**************************************************************************************

"I am NOT wearing that," Rhianna said flatly as the wardrobe woman dangled a clingy, sparkling 
skirt in front of her nose that had enough material to cover, at most, half a thigh of one leg.  

The woman laughed.  "You don't have a choice darling.  Now put it on."  

Rhianna stared at her with wide eyes before her own grew icy and narrowed.  If Chris was here 
he would recognize that look, and promptly be running for cover.  As it was the wardrobe woman 
was in for a nasty surprise.  

"No."  

Wardrobe Woman cocked her head as she paused in her busy process of reading a very interesting 
clip board.  She stared at the wannabe diva with mild surprise and straightened, staring down 
an aristocratic nose at the little upstart before her.  "Did you just say NO?" she demanded, 
incredulous.  

Rhianna smiled sweetly and threw the skirt back in her shocked face.

"Yes."  Rhianna met the eyes of the fuming older woman steadily, without blinking.  

"Listen hunny.  You're about to walk out on national television.  Its my job to make you look 
good.  If you don't want my clothes I, along with the hair dresser and make up artist can go 
and leave you all by your lonesome.  No skin off my back if you look like shit."  

The sweet smile turned into a dimpled grin.  "Okay."  

Wardrobe Woman blinked again.  "Did you just say OKAY?"  

Rhianna shrugged, nonchalant.  "Are you hard of hearing or something?  Take your circus and 
leave if you want.  I'm not walking out there dressed in this season's latest ho-wear."  

The door slammed shut after the MTV employee's angry exit.

Rhianna sighed and stared in the mirror.  No miracles for today.  Today she just looked like 
herself.  Plain, plain Rhianna Gray.  Plain in old faded flared jeans, combat boots, and a Mr. 
Bubbles t-shirt she had picked up for ten bucks somewhere.  She tugged the pony tail holder out 
and let her auburn hair fall down.  She pulled a brush out and tried to smooth it straight.  
She was a little surprised to find her hand shaking.  

Nerves would do that to you.

She sighed again and buried her face in her hands, taking deep shuddering breaths.  It was 
okay.  She could do this.  She would do this.  She was an adult.  She was competent.  She was 
strong.  She was not going to puke on live television in a Mr. Bubbles t-shirt.  She had her 
pride.  

Stupid pride.  

There was a rap on the door.  "Its almost time!" came the authroitive voice.  God, Rhianna 
was growing to hate MTV.  

"One second!" she called.  

Trembling hands reached into her purse and yanked out her cell phone.  She speed dialed JC's 
cell.  He picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"  

Rhianna smiled at his voice.  "Its me," she said softly.  She heard him shift and, in the 
background arguing that sounded suspiciously like Chris and Joey.  

"We're glued to the TV sweetie.  Aren't you about to go on?"  

"Yeah I just...  Wish me luck JC.  I... I'm scared."  

JC was quiet for a long moment as he sat staring at the phone receiver.  Chris and Joey paused 
in the bickering and Chris mouthed 'Rhianna'.  JC nodded dumbly.  Rhianna wasn't scared of 
anything or anyone.  Rhianna had nerves of steel.  He had never seen her falter, not once in 
the weeks he had grown close to her.  She was solid.  

She didn't get intimidated by little things like her first appearance on live television.  

He swallowed his surprise and gave her the response he could tell she needed.  "Knock em dead 
sweetie.  We're rooting for you."  

She laughed unsteadily.  "Thanks.  Gotta go..."

He whispered bye into the dial tone.  JC sat back on the couch and met Chris and Joey's curious 
gazes.  "She's scared," he replied to their unvoiced questions.  Chris's eyebrows raised in 
disbelief and Joey started to say something.  

He shut his mouth with an audible snap as Carson Daly announced the entrance of the very 
subject of their conversation.  Rhianna bounced out with her usual style and went to shake 
Carson's hand, an easy smile on her face.  They all stared at the screen for a long moment 
before Joey finally asked a question.

"Is she wearing her Mr. Bubbles shirt?"

****************************************************************************************

Before I go on let me just say that one day, somewhere, somehow, Carson Daly is going down.  

Jerk.

I'll now return you to your regularly scheduled embarrassment that is my life.

***************************************************************************************

"Wow...  Not what our usual acts come out wearing!"  

Rhianna gripped the microphone tighter in her white knuckled hands and smiled brightly at 
Carson who was laughing.  The toad.  

"Yeah well, they had an outfit already picked out but I'm a big girl.  I figured I can dress 
myself!"  

Carson laughed with the audience who seemed to appreciate her toned down appearance and sassy 
attitude though his eyes narrowed in frank speculation.  

Shit, shit, shit in a freaking bucket.  

"So Rhianna... this is your first television interview?"  

The bright smile grew strained around the edges as she shrugged elegantly.  "Yeah.  I'm kinda 
freaked out but hopefully I'll be around long enough to get used to it.  I'm also hoping I 
don't become the first artist to throw up from nerves on TRL.  That's not one of those first 
time things you want to be remembered for."  

Carson's laugh this time around was smaller but more genuine.  "You're doing fine Rhianna.  
We'll talk some more in a moment but first let's show the audience why you're here in the 
first place.  You want to do the honors?"  

Rhianna shrugged easily again and managed a natural sounding laugh.  Ignore the people, ignore 
the lights, ignore the camera, ignore the toad...

"Sure, I'm up for that."  She made a conscious effort to turn up the wattage of her smile 
before looking directly at the nearest camera.  "Hello everyone.  My name's Rhianna Gray and 
here's the world premiere of my first music video, Better than You.  Enjoy!"  

The video rolled.  The world loved it.  And her life started to suck as Carson turned back to 
her with a sickeningly smug grin.  Smug men were bad... very bad.  

"That was great Rhianna.  Now, before I let you go I wanted to talk with you a little bit about 
the unusual circumstances surrounding your signing and album.  Now a lot of people, almost all 
the teen girls here anyway, know that you're being produced and quasi managed by *NSYNC.  How 
did THAT happen?"  

She transferred the mike from one clenched hand to another.  "Well I'm not really a *NSYNC 
project, more of a Chris Kirkpatrick one.  My voice instructor is the very same who hooked 
Justin up with Lance when *NSYNC needed a bass.  Raymond sent Justin my demo tape, not that I 
knew that at the time, and he listened to it.  Then Chris did and decided that I was perfect to 
try some production and management with and hell, who am I to argue?

"So here I am with my very own CD coming out soon.  Its kinda scary how fast is all came 
together."  

"Yes... and then JC?"  

Rhianna winced and replied carefully, knowing that Carson was trying to goad her into 
something...  She'd seen him do it before to other artists, just not their first freaking time 
on national TV.  

He wasn't just a toad.  He was a super toad.  

"JC's always willing to help out struggling artists.  He's just an amazing musician and I've 
learned so much from him.  He's helped me polish up some of my music and tweak my lyrics.  We 
didn't collaborate totally on anything but my album wouldn't be half of what it is if he hadn't 
offered his help."  

Carson nodded seriously and Rhianna got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  "Of 
course not.  JC is an amazing guy all around.  And then Joey and Lance?"  

She swallowed.  Oh big shit.  "Joey's great too.  We hang out some when he's stuck at the 
studio working on stuff.  I don't see Lance cause he's in Russia and all, and doing great by 
the way, but we chat sometimes.  Just about normal stuff."  

Carson casually inspected his manicured fingernails.  "I see.  And Justin?"  

Rhianna bit back a growl.  "What about Justin?" she asked through tightly clenched teeth.  

Super toad smiled with heart stopping sweetness as he raised his eyes and met her startled 
gaze.  "Well I've heard some reports that there's... tension between you two.  I just wondered 
if there was any truth to those stories, especially since you seem to get along so great with 
the SYNC part of *NSYNC."  

Asshole.  

Rhianna laughed and hated that it sounded nervous.  Her free hand ran itself through her hair 
unconsciously.  "Oh come on Carson.  It's my first interview... shouldn't you save some hard 
questions for my second or third?"  

He chuckled and shrugged.  Rhianna fought the urge to smack him.  

Barely.  

"All right, all right.  Well folks let's move on to our number one video..."

The door to the green room slammed shut with devastating force as Rhianna Gray plowed through 
it.  She leaned against the far wall, forehead resting against the cool concrete, and wished 
for all she was worth that she could just sink into the floor and vanish.  

She was REALLY starting to hate MTV.  With a passion she normally reserved for Bill Clinton and 
Marilyn Manson.  

"You did pretty good kid.  Most people would have cracked up there."  

Oh god, her life did not suck this much did it?  

She turned around and groaned at the sight of Carson Daly leaning nonchalantly in the doorway, 
a smile twitching the corners of his lips as he studied her.  

"Do you try to be an asshole or does it just come entirely natural?"  

He coughed in surprise and had the nerve to laugh outright.  "Don't take it personally 
Rhianna.  I was just testing... pushing.  I wanted to see if you were as tough as you needed 
to be.  This is a shitty business and anyone who tells you differently is just kissing ass."

"Yeah well next time just give me a freaking scantron."  

Carson shook his head in amusement.  "Yeah you're gonna make it.  You did good, you really did.  
You strolled out in that damn Mr. Bubbles shirt and I thought 'Oh god, another Savage Garden or 
Mandy Moore'.  You're stronger than you look."  

Rhianna made a great show of studying her unmanicured nails.  "Want to see exactly how strong 
I am?" she asked sweetly.  His eye widened.  

"Maybe next time.  But seriously, off the record... what's up with you and Timberlake?  How 
come you're not kissing his ass like the rest of the world?  My sources are good."

She snorted.  "Maybe because he has a shitty attitude.  And that had DAMN well stay off record 
in every way, shape, and form."  

Carson nodded solemnly but his grin grew larger.  

"Stop smiling," she snapped, irritated.  

He beamed.  "Yes ma'am."  

"Asshole."