The show was magnificent. It was awe-inspiring to see the four of them, my four friends up on stage, singing and performing in front of millions to see. I loved every moment of watching them.

But what happened after the show was also significant ...

"Great job, lads!" Mal said enthusiastically. "Now, instruments over there, gather all your belongings, wait here for further instructions," he continued quickly.

"Mal's right. We 'ave to be out 'ere fast. We need to be out of 'ere before there's traffic, and before the fans and reporters come after you," Neil said before he hurried to attend to something else.

We did as we were told, and as soon as everything was set, we were all rushing out toward the cars.

But suddenly as we were almost halfway there, Paul stopped and slapped his forehead. "Oh, jeez, I left me camera backstage! I have to get it!" Paul immediately turned on his heel and ran back to the studio.

"Wait, Paul!" I piped up. I didn't want him to go back there alone! Something could happen to him and no one would know. I started to run after him.

"Pearl!" John called out behind me, concern in his voice. He probably didn't want me going in there either.

"It'll be okay, John! I'll be fine! Get back to the hotel with the others so less chaos ensues! We'll follow ya!" I said back to him.

John and Neil were worried, but Neil quickly consented. "Normally I wouldn't do this, but you go get Paul since you know where he's headed. If you two don't come out in five minutes, I'll take the other lads to the hotel for safety reasons. I'll have another car waiting for you."

"Thanks!" I said. "I'll be out soon, John!" My brother gave me a nervous smile, but nodded for me to be on my way. I ran to the dressing rooms, knowing that's where Paul left his camera last. I opened the door, and saw him frantically looking all over the place.

When he saw me, he was surprised. "Paulina! 'Didn't expect to see you!"

"No time for that now. You need some help," I said. Paul nodded immediately and we both searched up and down around the room, but couldn't find the camera.

"Ack, where could've it gone!" Paul said, checking the closet.

"It should be in here," I answered while searching the drawers of the bureau. I looked at my watch. Thirty seconds. We weren't gonna make it.

"But I didn't take it anywhere!" Paul complained, still looking for it in the closet.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I left it in the dressing room, but now I don't know where it's gone off to!"

After more minutes of searching all over the room ...

"'Found it!" I exclaimed, pulling out it from under the couch. "It's this one, right?"

"Oh, yeah, thank you! That's the one!" Paul was now reunited with his camera. "Maybe it just got knocked under the couch or somethin'. Thank you!"

"You're welcome, Paul," I said, smiling. "We should get goin' before the fans know you're still here. Come 'ead!"

"Right, let's get outta here!" Paul agreed as he tightly held the camera. I lead the way back outside, but where was the car Neil promised me?

"They didn't abandon us, did they?" Paul questioned in disbelief.

"They went back first so it could be safer that way," I replied. "We're supposed to have another car come get us."

"Paul! Paulina! Over 'ere!" Paul and I looked to see who was calling us. Mal was waving for us to come in the car. Paul and I were so relieved when we closed the car door behind us.

"Thanks, Mal, for waiting," I said after a sigh of relief.

"'Almost didn't make it there,'" Paul added, wiping the sweat from his brow. We relaxed as we were catching our breath.

"Well, we're not all the way there yet," Mal told us. "We were a little late in comin' out, so there's gonna be a bit of traffic."

Without traffic, we could return to the hotel in under ten minutes. Now the streets were filled with cars going home since it was late and the show was over.

"Do you know how long it'll take then?" I asked.

"Don't know, young lass," said Mal. "I would guess at least fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes didn't seem so bad. We'd be late, but I was grateful that nothing happened to Paul when he went back inside. Mal was now busy talking to the driver, so he couldn't hear the conversation between Paul and me. In the background, rock and roll music played quietly from the car speakers.

"At least fifteen minutes, he said. But we don't exactly know how long it'll take," Paul commented. "It might even take twenty minutes to get back. And we're stuck in traffic because of me. I even told myself, 'Don't forget yer camera, Paul,' and I did just that: I lost me camera. I caused so much trouble," Paul said, looking as if he was mentally scolding himself.

"'Salright, Paul," I comforted him. "At least we found it."

"I'm glad about that, but I know I won't be forgetting things again, that's for sure," Paul continued. He placed the camera on the floor, then yawned, and rubbed his eyes. "I'm exhausted. I'm so tired ..." He rested his head against the window, but shifted uncomfortably.

"You can go to sleep," I said. "I'll wake you up when we get there. C'mon 'ere, Paul."

"Hmm?" he replied, not understanding what I meant.

"C'mon, you can lie down. I don't mind if you rest your head on my lap."

"Thank you," Paul said with a smile. He placed his head gently on me. From my point of view, when I looked down, I saw the back of his head. Being near Paul, I could again tell that he had that delicate scent of lavender on him. I loved lavender ever since I was little, so I took notice. It didn't cloy the air, nor was it unnoticeable, and it was like everything that he owned had that touch of lavender. It wasn't too much nor too less.

A few moments passed, but then, Paul turned on his back, and he looked right up at me, his head still in my lap. "I can't sleep. I'm still excited over the outcome of the show, and I'm tired, but I can't sleep though. D'ya ever get that feelin' sometimes?"

"Yeah, I do, actually. Then I find myself thinking about things I haven't thought about for years."

"You too?" Paul said. "Yeah, that happens to me. Past memories and moments I don't really think about these days come back to me."

I laughed as I asked, "Do you remember that one day after my piano lessons? The day when afterwards, we walked to the bookstore, and just sat on the floor between the shelves and looked through books?"

"Oh, I remember that!" Paul said excitedly. "And we were excited to find 'Lord of the Rings,' so we read bits of that together. That was fun. And I remember we found the book with that knight in it. I read his part, and you read the rest of the characters and narrated?"

"Yeah, a very good knight you were too," I teased him. "You saved the princess in the story. How noble of you, Paul."

"Ah, no sweat since you were the princess! Just doin' my duty as a charming, valiant knight in shining armor," Paul played along. "But I do I remember all that clearly. Thanks for bringin' that memory back."

We began reminiscing about our past, and eventually, we got to talking about our childhood. I told him about the time that John taught me how to ride a bicycle and how he told me that once I learned, I could take him around the block instead of visa versa.

We both laughed at that, but soon, Paul stopped short. He listened to the song playing softly on the radio. I heard the song before, and Paul requested the DJ, Murray the K, to play it once. It was the song "Pride and Joy."

"Oh, speaking of memories," Paul said, sighing as he smiled. "Oh, this song ..."

"This song?" I asked him, unaware that this song had any special meaning to him.

"Yeah, 'Pride and Joy.' Since we're dispensing out our childhood now, I'll tell ya about this then. You know how you have those early childhood memories that are just short moments? It's sort of, um, sort of like a flash of a short clip of a movie?" Paul asked. I nodded because I understood.

"Well, no one knows about this one though, except for me dad and mum. Not even Mike knows, but since the song's come up, I just have to tell someone now. Just don't tell anyone else."

"I promise. Your secret's safe with me," I said. Paul smiled, cleared his throat, then began.

"I remember maybe one or two vague, faded instances of playing with a friend when I was really little. She was my best friend, and we had the greatest time together, even if we were only together for a short while. I just remember playing with her when I was lonely. I used to call her 'Joy.' It was easy for me to pronounce, according to what me dad tells me. So me dad's teased me about this and says that 'Pride and Joy' was probably written for the both of us."

"How sweet, Paul," I said with a smile. "But what happened to her, your friend, then?"

"That part becomes a bit fuzzy. But ..." Paul closed his eyes to think back as best he could, then opened his eyes again. "Yeah, I don't really remember much since those two instances of her that I told you about are all I remember. And me dad never mentions it much anymore. So, I've come to a conclusion about it. Shall I go into that, then?"

"Sure, I'd love to hear it," I said. "It's such a cute story."

"Thanks, luv," Paul said. "Anyroad, the friend ... I figure she was probably my--how can you call it--um, imaginary friend ... But I hope you don't think I'm daft because I'm tellin' ya all this ..."

"No, no, I'd never think that," I told him. "I'd never think that, Paul. I like listening to you. Keep goin'."

Paul explained further. "Well, I said that she came up only once or twice, right?"

"Right."

"Yeah, I'm thinkin' I imagined her so I wouldn't have been alone, since I was an only child then. She kept me company as I imagined her. But she was gone by the time Mike came along, and this is the most I have ever talked about it in my whole life!"

"It's still sweet, Paul," I answered. "I liked that."

"Okay, now it's your turn again for story time." Paul looked up at me with a smile. "So, tell me something I don't know already about ya. Any favorite childhood memories you want to share?"

"Hmm," I pondered. But before I delved into a childhood story, I told Paul my observation of him with the lavender fragrance he always had. Paul laughed benignly and knowingly at that.

"Yeah, I lived with it since me dad had it everywhere from the bed linens, to the pillowcases, in practically every room of the house. But I love the smell; it's soft and gentle, and here I go again, talkin' too much."

"No, no, it's okay, it was my fault for bringin' it up anyway. But I love lavender too. And don't worry if you think you talk too much, because you don't. I like listening to you, like I said before."

"Thanks, Paulina," he responded. "Now, getting back to you and your story."

"Yeah, I've got one. It's a little, favorite one though, not too exciting. 'Still want to hear it?"

"Of course I do," Paul replied sweetly.

"All right. I was eight, and John was ten, almost eleven, at the time. One day, I was sitting in front of my mirror and was trying to braid my hair by myself without any help. I think I couldn't get it to work because my hair was long and kept coming loose. I just let my hair down and combed it as usual."

"Your hair is beautiful any way you wear it," Paul said.

"Thank you, Paul," I answered before I continued. "What I didn't know what that John was watching me. He peeked his head in me room and timidly asked, 'Can I 'ave a go at it?' in this cute, little voice, which I remember clearly. I told him he could try it, so he brushed my hair once more, slowly and delicately, and surprisingly enough, he did it. He braided my hair."

"He did? John?" Paul asked.

"Yeah, he did it, and it actually looked nice, too. John told me he learned it as he watched Aunt Mimi do it for me. I can braid my hair on my own now, but sometimes John just wants to do it for me, so I let him. You know, it's just one of those things, one of those random facts that no one really knows about."

"That's for sure. Even I didn't know that, and I've known you for how long?" Paul teased.

"Well, I haven't told anyone, except you, and no one's asked about it, so it's okay, Paul."

"I had no idea that our John knew how to do that," Paul continued. "I know how to do it, but not as nice as John can do it, probably. That's pretty gear, though."

"Yeah. You know, all these stories we shared are from so long ago," I said.

"It's not so long ago if the memory is still alive," he said. "I still like thinking back to the past, thinking back to all twenty-one years of me life, and soon to be twenty-two!" Paul said.

"Hey, that's true. A few months away from now, it'll be your birthday!"

"Ah, but yours is comin' up sooner than mine, luv. You'll be the same age as me soon."

"So before you forget: What's it like being twenty-one, then, Paul?" I asked.

"Just a year older than bein' twenty," Paul responded. "Not much different, except for the concept of the number. 'Twenty-one' sounds important and grown up."

"If you don't regard it as such, then it's not."

"You're right about that. You could say that twenty-one's an age or just a number. 'Really doesn't matter, except when birthdays come 'round!" With that, Paul sat up and set himself next to me.

"You just like the idea of presents," I said teasingly.

"Who doesn't?" Paul answered with a smile. "You'll be twenty-one a couple months from now. Gear, I have to get you a present."

"No, you don't, Paul. Don't get me anything, really."

"No? Are you so sure about that?" Paul said, eyes twinkling.

"You really don't have to," I said, not wanting to trouble him. "Just remembering it and wishing 'happy birthday' to me is good enough."

"But it's not good enough for me ... Or for the other lads, especially your brother. So we're getting you presents again, whether you like it or not," he teased.

"How could I not like it? Thank you so much ..."

"Oh, you don't have to thank us. You do the same for the rest of us already," he answered. Just after he said that, the car came to a stop, and I had to hold on to Paul a bit so he wouldn't roll off the seat.

"Thank you, luv. 'Didn't want to be falling to the floor--Hey, I didn't get a chance to take a kip, did I?" Paul said, getting up and seeing that we had arrived back at the hotel.

"'Salright, Paul. But we had a lovely conversation instead, right?"

"That's right," Paul answered. "It was much better than sleeping. Thanks for listening and sharing."

"No, no, thank you, Paul."

"And remember, Paulina: It's only a couple months away. Only a couple months away." Understanding what he meant, we both smiled and we sneaked back into the hotel room. It was true; it really wouldn't be long until my birthday. It was only a couple months away.