Chapter Two
Brooklyn turned in the chair and rested her elbows on her knees, taking a deep breath. "I've never seen you this nervous before, New York," JC said, looking her over. Make up had already been applied to her face, and her hair was styled, half pulled back by a barrette. It was her own clothes that she was wearing, but there was something about her. Maybe it was the fact that she was nervous. That might have been what was making her look different. "You told me that you've done Oprah before. It can't be that bad," he teased her now, pushing her lightly in the chair.
She raised her eyes to look at him, taking an even deeper breath. "It's not that. I'm used to being on television, and having a camera in front of my face. It's what I'm talking about that hurts. That's the hard part. Why did I ever agree to do an interview about what happened?" she asked herself, groaning. She stood up and walked with JC towards the green room, where Joe and Mia were busy talking on their cell phones.
"Put it this way, sweetheart. It's an exclusive. You won't have to worry about it after that." He laughed when she sat down on the couch and tried to scratch her nose without messing up any of the pancake make up she was wearing. He sat down beside her. "Would it make you feel better if I was out in the audience?"
She started to laugh. "You know, whenever I'm with you, I normally forget that you're famous. Now, you're starting to forget? This is interesting." Shaking her head, she brushed a piece of hair out of her face. "You can't sit in the audience, as much as you'd like to. I did, however, make arrangements for you to watch from the wings, rather than in here on close circuited television." Her eyes sparkled when she said that. "I'm pretty good, huh?"
Leaning down, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. It was the only safe place, he figured. "Pretty good? You're the best." Her grin brightened at that. "How long do you have?"
As soon as the words escaped his mouth, a knock came at the door and a man wearing a headset looked in. "Miss Turner, you're needed to go on," he said, waiting for her to stand up. She motioned for JC to follow, Mia and Joe gesturing that they were going to work in here while fielding their phone calls.
They walked down the narrow halls, jumping over cables and other items on the floor before she saw the stage from the edge, and she took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She was announced, and started to walk about before JC whispered to her. "I'll be right here, New York." She smiled and touched her necklace briefly before she walked onto the stage, smiling and laughing at the crowd's response.
She took her seat, a plush arm chair that was probably worth more than her truck, and smiled nervously. She had done Oprah before. This shouldn't be a problem. However, she also knew that this wasn't going to be a very happy show, since it was almost known for being flooded out by tears. Now she understood why Mia booked her for an exclusive with Oprah.
Once the applause died down, she looked straight ahead and smiled when she saw JC standing there, leaning against a wall, his arms crossed. He winked at her before straightening a little and nodding his head. That was all she needed to get this interview started. "Brooklyn, it's great to see you again. You're looking fantastic."
Brooklyn smiled. This was easy enough. Start out with the admiration and respect before we get to the hard stuff, she thought. "Talk about looking fantastic. You look unbelievable. Doesn't she look great?" she asked the audience, smiling when they cheered and clapped. JC couldn't believe his eyes. She had the audience in the palm of her hand and she wasn't going to let them go anytime soon. "It's great to see you again, too."
"According to every newspaper and magazine out there, you just finished your ninth album and it's going to be out in stores soon. What was that like, finishing it off?"
She took a deep breath. This is where it was going to start. "It was a healing process, more than anything. There's one song in particular that I'll never forget. It was the first one that I sang when I was coming back, but the album itself? I guess it would be fair to say that I didn't put it out there for the fans, or because my contract told me that another album was supposed to start. I did it for myself, to see if I could do it."
JC nodded. Though she had never said it before, he knew everything that she was saying. All of it rang true for her. He still remembered the day that he peeked in on her, listening to her sing that first song, watching her. How defeated she looked when she started, and somehow, she had become stronger to finish the song. That was the main stepping stone to getting Brooklyn back to what she used to be, though he knew she would never be exactly the same ever again. Something had changed about her, some sort of intelligence would shine through that she never had before.
Oprah shifted slightly in her seat and looked at Brooklyn, where her fingers came up to play with her necklace. Her hand went down almost immediately. She was nervous. That had become her new nervous habit. JC recognized it right away. "There was no sense of accomplishment...nothing like that?"
Brooklyn shook her head quickly and smiled. "There was a sense of accomplishment, but it isn't the one that you normally feel when you finish something like that. Normally, after finishing an album, I would be bouncing off the walls. I would throw a party and all my neighbors and friends would be in the backyard, just having fun. Instead, what I felt was some sort of...I'm not sure. Maybe tiredness. I was drained with this album." She cleared her throat quickly. "Excuse me. I think there was some sort of dull happiness, too. It wasn't like it normally would be. I was just glad because this album signified a certain point in my life, and I had managed to get passed it. It's not something that I'll look back on and say, 'Well, that song shouldn't have been in there, but other than that, it sounds okay.' This is something more. This is something that I can look back at and think 'This signified the old Brooklyn, the person who submitted.'. In a way, it was the birth of a new Brooklyn."
"A little while ago, at the American Country Music Association awards, you told everyone and showed everyone that you were engaged to be married to your long time boyfriend. That's where this all started, wasn't it?"
She shook her head again. JC's eyes widened and he stood up straight to listen to her. All he had heard about was the fact that after the announcement of the engagement, things had turned bad, but he hadn't heard anything like this before. "No, it started a long time ago, after the end of my last full tour, just before I started recording If I Didn't.... It was actually the day that I had come home. Tim, my boyfriend, and I had been having a few small fights about my touring and my career. Basically, he didn't like the fact that I was gone for long periods of time. It got a little worse when I was telling him about what my manager and I had planned for the new album."
Her eyes automatically went to JC and he blinked once, before breaking her gaze. He knew that, given the chance, she would have continued to stare at him, as if trying to make him understand what she was saying without speaking the words. He knew what she was going to say, he knew it in his heart, but he never thought that it went back that far. "And what was it that he didn't like?"
Smiling, she tucked her hair behind her ear. This time, it was no secret message for JC. "Normally, I collaborate with someone on my album, but it's usually a country artist. Joe, my manager, had this list of names and the only one that I didn't know was JC Chasez. Actually, to tell the truth, I wasn't crazy about meeting with a pop singer. I figured that I could just say no and leave it at that, but Joe knows me a little too well. He had already called JC a few times and arranged for him to come out to Nashville to meet with me. I didn't tell Tim about it until JC got there. The two of us spent the day together, and we decided that we were going to collaborate on the track. Needless to say, Tim wasn't too happy. He made a few derogatory comments and basically told me that he didn't want me to do this, because he didn't like the idea that I was singing with a man that wasn't him."
"So he was jealous? Had he met JC?"
"No, they didn't meet for a little while after that," she said. JC couldn't help shaking his head and closing his eyes. The problems had started back then, and he didn't know. He was actually the cause of the problems, in a way. His mind flashed back to the day that Brooklyn had come into the conference room, slamming the door behind her. She looked like she was ready to take on the world and beat them at the same time. He wondered if that had anything to do with it.
It probably did, he reasoned. And he didn't want to hear it, but he wasn't going to move. Especially if Brooklyn needed support, like they both knew she did. Still, he had to stand there and listen to her speak, and talk about how he was the real cause of the problems. Maybe if Tim had had his way, none of this would have happened.
That wasn't the truth, though. He knew that, even if the bastard had gotten his way, it would have happened sometime down the road, and with that change, him not being in her life, would she be where she is today? The thought alone sounded egotistical, but Brooklyn had come running to him. She had come to him, even after their fight, and she had said something to the effect that she didn't know where to go, yet she ended up at his door. If he had never sang with her, never met her, where would she have gone? Would she have ran to Mia or Joe? Would she have gone to the police? Or would she have stood there and taken all of that, and more, until...But he didn't want to think about what could have happened.
"But the jealousy? That I picked up on. I just didn't think anything of it. I guess I noticed the...I'd say, fourth day that JC and I had started to work together. Well, it was pretty obvious, actually. That was the first time that Tim hit me. I would say that it was JUST a slap across the face, but it was more than that. It was the start of the end of the relationship, really."
Again, his eyes closed. The fourth day that they had known each other? That was so long ago, and she never told him, even after it had all ended. Never once did she say that he had slapped her that fourth day. From behind his closed eyes, he felt the burn of tears and tried to take a deep breath. In other words, it WAS his fault. He was the cause of the slap. Brooklyn had just said so herself, saying that Tim was jealous because she was going to sing with him.
How was he supposed to live with the fact that, if Tim hadn't been provoked by having JC there, he was the cause of how it all began, and how it all ended. Why hadn't he picked up on this before. It's not like it was a big secret. Anyone that ever heard either of them talking about each other knew that they didn't care for each other. If Tim was talking about JC, it was even worse. It was more than just dislike. Tim had outright hated him. He hated him and took out his hatred on Brooklyn.
Unwillingly, his imagination picked up the words that she had said and transferred them into a vision, a scene in a way. No sound, but he could tell or at least guess what Tim had to say. The worst part was watching Tim raise his hand and slap Brooklyn, causing her head to fall to the side. To see a red palm print there.
Once he knew that the tears were gone, he opened his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see it again. Instead, he looked at the real Brooklyn, the one that was sitting in an arm chair on a stage with an audience looking at her. He just added another pair of eyes that were staring almost greedily. He could see, from where he was standing, the glimmer of tears in her own eyes. The way that her chin trembled ever so slightly, while she tried to regain her control.
"I don't think I'll ever forget that day," she began again, her sweet voice filling the studio. "I still live it through nightmares. I couldn't believe it when he hit me. No one, in their life, had ever struck me in anger. I still remember him telling me that I wasn't allowed to sing with JC on the track, and I was to pick out a female country singer...he made sure to emphasis the female part...and tell JC to go back to Florida. I stood my ground, telling him that there was no way I was going to do that, and he slapped me. It was some sort of power trip on me, I guess.
"What was even worse was what he said after it happened. He told me that he was sorry that he ever hit me, but he was angry, and that I knew he wouldn't hit me unless he had a reason. I couldn't understand that reason. I still can't."
Her hand reached down for a glass of water beside the chair, and took a small sip, just to wet her throat. Her mouth had dried up the moment that she started to talk about it, every since she had said his name. For the longest time, she had tried not to say his name, and if she did, she was always sure to add some sort of derogatory term after or before it. "But that wasn't all that happened. We'll be right back with more of Brooklyn Turner's incredible story."
JC could feel someone's presence behind him before a voice sounded in his ear. "How's she holding up?" It was a female voice, and he knew who it was instantly.
"Hi, Mia," he said quietly, almost dejectedly. She picked up on the tone. "She's doing pretty good. Could you do me a favor?" He could feel her nod, creating a slight wind on the back of his neck. "I know that you're standing RIGHT behind me. Please refrain from grabbing something."
She chuckled and moved beside him. "Would it make you feel better if I stood over here?" She was still for all of about two seconds before she looked up at him. "I'm going to go talk to Brooke for a moment." With that, she walked across the stage, ignoring someone who told her not to, and made her way to Brooklyn, kneeling down beside her chair.
He couldn't hear the words that they were saying, but every now and then, Brooklyn would look towards him and smile a little. He would smile back, which was all he could do. The look that she sent towards him was dangerous. "Dangerous if I was interested, which I'm not," he whispered to himself, before running his hands through his hair. Mia hurried back towards JC when the camera man started to count off, and grinned as she passed him. He jumped, but didn't make a sound when he felt her hand firmly clench him before she giggled and walked away.
Brooklyn had caught the move and her eyes were sparkling as she winked at him before clearing her throat and composing herself. JC just shook his head, wondering how he ever got talked into something like this. There were a few passing comments between Oprah and Brooklyn before the next question came: "You said, before the commercial break, that Tim had been jealous of JC Chasez, right?" At that time, a picture of Tim, followed by a picture of JC, flashed on the screen before Oprah began to speak again. "Do you think that JC was part of the problem?"
Quickly, she shook her head. "No, of course not. JC and I...we have a pretty strong friendship. At least, I'd like to think so." Her eyes flashed briefly to JC, who nodded. A smile managed to creep on his face at the words, even though he was still feeling guilty. "He's been with me, supporting me, through everything. If it was anyone's fault for what happened, it was mine for not seeing what was happening."
"So, you believe that it's your fault, then."
"In a way. I mean, I should have seen it coming. I was in love. That blinded everything for me, and I couldn't see the real Tim. Then again, I'd like to put all the blame on him, since he was the instigator. That's kind of hard to do since he can't answer to my accusations and questions. If anything, I would say that half of the blame is on me, and the other half is on him. Really, the media didn't make it any easier from me. From day one, there had been reports of JC and I dating each other, and so on and so forth. Tim just took them all to be truthful."
He didn't understand. Brooklyn wasn't blaming him intentionally, but unintentionally...it was too confusing. None of the blame went to Brooklyn. She had a perfectly good excuse. Hadn't she been in love, totally infatuated with the man? If anything, at the very least, he deserved half of the blame, with Tim taking the other half. His mother had taught him an important lesson to take through life. 'No matter what they do wrong, the woman never deserves the blame, Josh. The man is always in the wrong and should always take the blame.' She had told him that jokingly, but it rang true, didn't it? Didn't it?
His attention went back to the interview. "How was the relationship after that?"
Brooklyn moved her shoulders in a shrug. "Strained, at best, I guess. He wasn't happy with me, I wasn't happy with him, and we weren't about to change. Things got a little better after JC and I had finished recording, I guess. In that time, though, I became close with JC. It was hard for me to actually have a social life after my parents died and he was the first person that I wanted to stick around, so that we could hang around town or watch a movie. It was the hardest lying to him."
Oprah had raised her eyebrows, but JC couldn't see it. Brooklyn did, and tried not to giggle at the sight. Maybe it wasn't her move after all. "JC came right out and asked you about it? He asked if Tim had hit you?"
"No, but to me, keeping quiet about something is the same as lying. I remember the next day when I went into the studio and he was sitting there, reading the paper and drinking coffee. I must have looked pretty bad, since I hadn't slept much the night before. I was too worried that a bruise would show up, and I didn't want to go out in public if there was a mark, just in case people started to ask questions. Luckily, or not, however you look at it...one didn't. He asked what was wrong, and I think I said something about a fight...I'm not really sure. Either way, I kept quiet about what actually happened, and like I said, to me, that's lying.
"The relationship, though. I don't know why I stayed. Maybe I was like all those impressionable women that you hear about. I thought that I could change him, making it better. We could work on it. Yeah, right. There was no way that we could work on something like that."
The woman shook her head. "This wasn't the only time that something like that happened, was it?"
JC took a deep breath. Was it going to be another incident that he hadn't known about? "I don't know if anyone remembers this, but there was a story in the National Enquirer. An 'exclusive' from Tim about our relationship." Quite a few people in the audience nodded. "That morning...it was weird. I was sitting at the kitchen table with my brother and we heard on the radio that there was a story from Tim in the Enquirer. My brother flipped out instantly, and went down to the store to get the paper. When he came back, we read it, and I knew instantly that it was from him, because it mentioned a nickname of mine, New York, that only one person calls me by." She touched the necklace the moment that she said that. "Tim walked in just as I finished reading it, and I was stupid enough to tell Austin to go take a walk and let me do this myself. After he left, we went into the living room, and I...well, I was mad enough to throw something, which I did. To this day, I wish that my aim was a little better, because I just missed hitting him with an ornament that we keep on the television stand. He ended up getting mad at me and grabbed me by the arms. He shook me hard enough to cause my head to hit something, and he started to tell me that there was nothing that I could do about what he did, and if I didn't listen to him and just let it slide, he would tell everyone one of my biggest secrets, one that I've covered up for quite a few years."
He was astounded, standing against the wall again. He could tell that it was hard for her to talk about this, and the way that she looked towards him was enough to tell him that. But was she really thinking about telling about her parents? Was she really going to?
It still seemed fresh in his mind when she told him about what happened, and why she had never said anything. That it could have ruined her career and after awhile, she just continued to keep it quiet, even if she didn't have to. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, looking towards her. He could almost see the internal struggle that was happening in her mind.
"Anyway, he left after that, and I went up to my room to take a bath, because that was the only thing that I could think of. I knew that Austin was going to come back soon and see that I broke the glass on a picture hanging on the wall and the ornament laying on the couch, but I didn't care. Instead, I started a bath and someone called me then." His eyes became wider when he realized that HE was the person that had called her. "I had to lie when I was asked what was wrong, and I lied telling the person that I was okay. I think that hurt me more than hitting my head."
The whole studio was silent for a moment, while Brooklyn wiped away the one tear that had started its way down her face. It had sparkled like a diamond from where JC was standing. He wished that he could have been the one sitting beside her, that it would have been his hand rising to wipe it away. He didn't like that she was alone up there, with no support whatsoever. "Did anyone find out about it?"
Her head moved in a nod, and JC closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her. Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned with his back against the wall. He knew what she was going to say, and it hurt even more to know that he had been right at the time. "JC came over soon after that, and he accidentally grabbed my arm, where there were bruises from the last time. I was literally shaking when he pushed up my sleeve, because I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want anyone to know that I couldn't take care of myself for once. He made some comment about how he couldn't have made those marks, because he didn't grab me all that much, and he looked at my other arm. The marks were almost identical, and I think he noticed the fact that there were little cuts with them, made by Tim's fingernails. I had to lie again, and tell him that I slipped in the bath. I actually made a mistake the next day and told him that I had slipped in the shower. That was easy to cover up, though."
I was right, he mouthed. He was right when he thought and asked her if Tim had caused those bruises. He still couldn't open his eyes, in case someone noticed that he was incredibly close to letting the tears in his eyes fall, something that he just didn't do. He clung to that little piece of male ego that he still had, and forced himself to stop them.
Now, his mind couldn't help thinking that if Brooklyn had said yes, had even insinuated that it was Tim that had done that, all that time ago when he had asked, it would have been over with. He didn't know how. Maybe he would have had Brooklyn fly out to Orlando and stay with him for a little while until everything got cleared up. Maybe she would have gotten a restraining order. Maybe...there were too many maybes. There were always too many maybes.
Brooklyn had taken a deep breath, but it was shaky. "Tim came over that morning and asked if I could meet with him later. I wanted to be somewhere public, just in case. We ended up down at a local park, where there were a lot of people. I remember sitting beside him and we talked for a little while before he started to get angry. I left him to go to the store and told him to cool down a little bit. When I came back, and we had met up again, he showed me that he wasn't afraid to try and hurt me out in public. He wrapped his hand around my ankle and was holding it, really tight, too. Then, everything changed and he started to tell me that he was so sorry and that he never wanted to hurt me and that he loved me. It was a bunch of bull, really. He asked me to give him another chance, and I should have said no. I really should have, but I didn't."
Just another incident that he could have prevented, JC thought. He looked over at her now, and saw that she was crying silently, just letting the tears roll down her face without a care in the world. He didn't know if she had even noticed that she was crying. Another commercial break and Mia was at his side almost instantly. "Is she..." she started, but trailed off.
"I don't know," he answered her and took a deep breath before he did something that he shouldn't have. He walked out onto the stage, ignoring the person that tried to stop Mia the last time, and knelt down beside her chair. He could hear a few people gasp and he could feel people watching him, watching them. "New York? How are you holding up?" he asked, reaching up. Now it was him that was brushing away her tears. "Look at me, New York. Are you okay?"
She moved her head to look at him, with her shining eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...weird, reliving all of this. I didn't want to," she whispered. He nodded and took her hands for a moment, just looking at her. That was all she needed. Once he knew that she was going to be fine, he stood up and kissed her quickly on the top of her head, like before, and walked off the set, back to where he had been standing before.
"Thank you," Mia whispered, looking over at him.
"Don't thank me, just stop grabbing at my butt, please."
If that wasn't the stupidest thing to say, he realized after. Because as soon as Mia walked by, she grabbed him once again, snickering as she walked away.
"Are you sure?" Brooklyn asked, looking over at Joe and Mia. "I don't know about you guys, but I can't wait to get back home," she said with a longing smile.
Joe shook his head. "No, we've got some stuff to do out here. Don't worry about me, worry about what Mia's going to do," he said with a smile directed towards the woman. Brooklyn giggled behind her hand. "Have a nice flight, you two," he said before Brooklyn and JC walked onto the private jet, relaxing the moment they sat in their seats.
He looked over at her, watching as she put on her lap belt and leaned back, her hands loosely on the arm rests. It didn't take long for the jet to be in the air, and for Brooklyn to remove the strap across her stomach before she moved her seat back a bit, sighing relaxingly. "I am so glad that the interview is over. I didn't think it was going to be that hard."
Nodding, he reached over to brush a piece of hair out of her eyes. "New York, can I ask you a question?"
"Since when do you ask," she said, smiling at him before turning in her seat slightly so that she could look at him better. "Come on, hit me with your best shot. It can't be that difficult of a question."
How he wished that she could just read his mind, because this WAS a difficult question for him to ask. Sometimes, Brooklyn knew what he was going to say exactly, but this time? She didn't seem to have a clue. "Well, I-" He broke off when a beeping came from her bag. She laughed and reached into her back pack, taking out the slim black organizer.
"Sorry about that. I forgot that I set the alarm on this thing when I was on tour, and there's no way to shut it off. I guess I should just take the batteries out one day, but then I lose all the information in there that I need." He nodded and she opened the organizer, pressing a few buttons. "I can make it stop sooner than normal, but I just can't shut off the damned alarm. You don't know anything about these things, do you?"
He smiled hesitantly. "Only enough to know that I shouldn't have one," he said. She nodded and smirked as she shut it off and put it back in her bag.
Turning towards him, she tucked her now loose hair behind her ears. "Well, are you going to ask me or what?"
Was he going to? He wasn't sure. This was a subject that he wasn't comfortable delving into, but he had to know, just to get rid of the guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He really didn't want to carry that around with him for a long time, and he didn't want to be around Brooklyn if the answer was what he thought it could be. "Yeah, I guess I am. There....there's something that's been...bothering me since you started the interview, and for some reason, I just can't get it out of my mind."
"JC, I really don't want to go through all of Tim's actions again today. Can it wait until tomorrow, please? I'm just...not in the mood to do something like this."
He shook his head. "It has nothing to do with that...well, kind of, but not really. Just...if you don't want to answer today, I can get by on that until tomorrow, but there's something that I really need to know. I'm sorry." She nodded briefly and looked towards him with a strong gaze, not letting him look away. "You were talking about...hell, I should just come out with it," he said quietly, laughing nervously. His hand rubbed on his pant leg, and he looked down at it, not wanting to look in her eyes. Her hand reached out and softly touched his arm. Chuckling, he looked back at her. "I know, it sounds stupid, right? I was just thinking...I know that Tim blamed me for almost everything, but do...do you?"
Her eyes widened for a moment, before her hand moved from his arm and they fell into her lap. "JC, how could you even think something like that?" He thought that she had cried out all of the tears that she could, but her eyes were sparkling again, and he hurried to speak. She stopped him and shook her head. "Really, I can't believe that you could even think that you're to blame for any of this. Yes, Tim didn't like you, but he didn't blame you for most of what happened. A lot of the blame, in his eyes, was on me. How could you really think that?"
His shoulders moved in a shrug. "I don't know," he said softly. "I just figured that, from the way you were talking..."
"I thought that you knew me. I would never blame you for something like this. You weren't the one that was hitting me, JC. You weren't the one that was hurting me. If anything, you were the one that was helping me."
They were both silent for a little while before he spoke again. This time, it was a whisper. A rough whisper, at that. "I could have stopped it, New York. I really could have, but I didn't, because I believed everything that you told me. When you said that it wasn't Tim that put those bruises on your arms, I...I didn't want to believe you, but I forced myself to, because that was what you wanted. I could have stopped it all from happening."
Her head shook. "I was the only one that could have stopped it, and I didn't."
"No, I could have. I knew what was happening, and I didn't say anything. I should have. I don't know why you don't hate me. You should, you know. You should hate me." His whisper was so low that she could barely hear it, but she looked up to see him and felt her own eyes water again when she saw his. It was really bothering him, she saw.
A faint smile filtered on her face, and she reached out, putting her hands on the sides of his face to lift it. He looked at her, his chin trembling slightly, just like hers had earlier that day. "I could never hate you," she said slowly, so that he would understand. "Just look at me for a minute, all right? This isn't your fault. I shouldn't have stayed, but I did. If I had left, it might have been different, but you never know, because it never happened. I don't know where you get all these crazy ideas from, but JC, I could never hate you. You've done nothing wrong."
He reached up and took her hands off of his face, shaking his head. He turned away from her and looked straight ahead, not wanting to see the expression on her face. It was too kind, too loving. Not what he deserved at all. "Maybe not in your mind, but in mine? Yeah, it's my fault. Damn it, Brooklyn, I could have stopped so much that happened, and I didn't. Don't you think that this bothers me? Don't you think that I've laid awake some nights, thinking about this? It hurts me more than you know. This has been on my mind for a little while now, but it really just hit me when you were doing that stupid interview. Just the way that you kept saying how 'Tim was jealous of JC, I guess, and that's what caused it.' Or 'he was so jealous of the fact that we were spending so much time together'. Don't you see?"
"You're the one that has to open up your eyes and look around. I can see just find. My last visit to the eye doctor told me that I can see perfectly well. Sorry, I know that I shouldn't be making jokes right now. It's just...automatic for me, I guess." She shifted in her seat and looked at his profile. She was hoping that it was her imagination that a single tear traveled down his face. If it was, and she let herself believe that it WASN'T her imagination, she was going to be in big trouble. Her and Oprah alone had almost flooded out the studio. She didn't want to create a mini river in the jet now. "How can I explain this to you so that you understand? It's like you don't want to listen to me or something. There is no way in my life that I could ever hate you, and yet...it's almost like you want me to hate you. Is that what you want?"
"No, God, no, New York. It's just..."
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment. "I know what you mean. I went through the same thing when this whole deal with Tim was going on. I made myself believe that I loved him, and maybe I did. My mind listened to whatever it told me. It told me that I could make things better, I could change him. Your mind is telling you that it's your fault, and you're believing it, and no one can change that but you. I just wish that you would understand that I don't blame you for anything that happened. You were my savior in a way. No matter what, you managed to keep a smile on my face, you made me feel like the real Brooklyn, one that I hadn't been in a long time."
Now, a short laugh erupted from her and she opened her eyes, her fingers trailing the pattern on the back of the seat in front of her. "I don't know why, but for some reason, you brought out that person in me. The one that I hid all those years. Who knows? Maybe, I was always New York, but I went to being Brooklyn after awhile. This is beside the point, though. I just...don't beat yourself up over this, please. You know my feelings on the subject. I can't do anything to make you think otherwise."
Nodding, he leaned his head back. "Yeah, I know."
"You're probably just tired. That's why you're thinking all this, right?" She was saying it fast, so that he couldn't interrupt. This is what she wanted to believe, and she was damned well going to believe it, no matter what he said. "Why don't you get some sleep. I promise, I won't whip out the camera and take a picture of you when you're sleeping to post on the Internet."
He laughed softly before moving his head to kiss her cheek softly. "Thank you."
She waved it away and watched as he reclined his seat and closed his eyes. That was it, he was just tired, she told herself as she turned her head to look out the small window. It wasn't like she could see anything other than blue sky. Still, it was something to look at, and something better than looking over at JC.
For some unknown reason, her stomach was jumping nervously. There was nothing for her to nervous about, she knew that, but it still jumped every now and then. It was almost like...
But that was impossible. She had that feeling before, a few years ago. Looking at Tim for the first time. The feeling that made it seem like she had a little school girl's crush. Of course, it couldn't be directed towards JC. Was this another thing that she was going to have to convince her mind to believe? If she had to, she would. She wasn't ready for any sort of relationship, other than friendship. If she had her way (and she believed that she did), love wouldn't be present in her life for many MANY years. It had caused her too much trouble in the past.
Not that JC would ever be like that, she told herself, closing her own eyes and leaning back in her seat. She always thought better when her eyes were closed than when they were open. And right now, she had to do all the thinking that she could, because this was just wrong. She had no feelings towards JC.
And that kiss in the airport? Her mind brought the question back up. Well, that was easy to explain. Just loneliness. The fact that she didn't have a man with her, like she normally did. Like she had for the past few years. Her brother was gone, her boyfriend was gone (thank God for that), and JC was there. He was just there.
That didn't mean that she could ignore the feeling that she had while it was happening. Or could she? She had ignored a lot in the past, this would just be one more thing to add to the mile long list. She had tried to ignore every single person that tried to put the thought in her head that she should be with JC. That happened what...every day? And the people that were telling her that. That list was longer than the one of things she ignored in her life.
She needed to talk to someone, and who she normally talked to...well, that would be hard to explain to JC. She was left with only one other person, since Austin wasn't back yet, and she wanted someone who wouldn't give her flack about it. That was no problem, whatsoever.
"Hello?"
Brooklyn groaned and fell down on her bed, closing her eyes. "Lance," she whined. "I need help. I am so confused right now, and I shouldn't be confused, but I am confused, and I don't know what to do."
His deep chuckle sounded from the phone. "Brooke, I don't even know what the hell you said. Would you care to repeat that, but not as fast, and more coherent?"
She started to laugh as she rolled over, propping her elbows on her pillow. JC was downstairs, sleeping on the couch. He hadn't even managed to make it towards the stairs, and she had left him there for the time being. At least she knew that he couldn't hear her, which was a good thing. "Well, what I tried to say was that I'm confused about something. Got that?"
"Uh huh."
"But I shouldn't be confused about this thing. Got that?"
"Uh huh."
"But I am confused, which is wrong. Got that?"
"Uh huh."
"And I'm so confused about something that I shouldn't be confused about, that I don't know what to do. Got that?"
There was a slight paused, and then an, "Uh huh."
She shook her head slowly. "Is that all you can say?"
"Uh huh. Oh, what? Sorry. I heard everything you said. Now, let's see if I can get this straight. You're confused about something that you don't WANT to be confused about, not the fact that you SHOULDN'T be confused about it, and you don't know what to do because you're so confused. Wow, I barely understood that one myself and I said it."
"Then you're in the same boat that I am. So, is that all right?"
To her, she was being perfectly clear. To Lance, it was like looking through a glass of milk. Not clear at all. "Is what all right?"
Groaning again, she rolled over once more, back onto her back. "Is it all right to be confused?"
"Brooke, you've got me all confused now. You have so lost me, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"Hold on a second, please." She put the phone down so that it was laying on the pillow beside her before she buried her face in the pillow behind her head. Taking a deep breath, she let out a frustrated scream into the pillow so that it was muffled and so that it wouldn't wake up JC. That was the last thing that she needed. "I needed that," she said when she picked up the phone again. "Let me see if I can put it this way. I'm thinking about something that I swore I wouldn't think about for another...five years, give or take, because it just caused so much trouble last time."
He laughed softly. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life, if she wanted. "I think the light bulb just when on over my head. I'll take 'Brooklyn Turner Is In Love' for 200, Alex."
A smirk appeared on her face. "Congratulations, you just hit the Daily Double, neighbor. Since when do you use Jeopardy! in your conversations? That's a new one."
"I just finished watching a re-run. Should I even bother to ask who, considering that I know who's staying at our house right now, and who flied out with you to Chicago earlier today? Hm...I think I just won the game."
"I wouldn't go as far to say that I'm in the love category just yet. School girl crush ran through my mind, and maybe lust. Yeah, lust works. Love? That won't be in my life for many more years to come. I'm just...not ready for something like that. Hell, I'm not ready for this yet. It's too early. It's only been a couple of months."
Lance cleared his throat on the other line, and sighed. "Forgive me for saying this, but I have two different metaphors that could work for this. First, when you fall off a horse, you get back on."
"I hate riding. Horses scare me."
"Okay, fine, but it works. The other? It's like riding a bike, it's something that you just don't forget. Never mind, those sound really bad. What I'm trying to tell you, is that while it has been a few months, you never know. You could be ready for something like this. Maybe that's what your mind is telling you."
Her eyes closed again, and she forced herself to remain calm. "See, the thing is, I don't want him to just be some sort of rebound, though. I swear, if you tell anyone, and I do mean ANYONE, I will seriously hunt you down and hurt you. I have a...a...toothbrush, and I'm not afraid to use it. Never mind."
"I know what you mean. I'm in serious danger if I tell anyone, right?" She nodded, even if he couldn't see her. She knew that he would know that she nodded. "Thanks for the nod. I won't tell a soul, you know that. Brooke, how do you know that he's going to be a rebound? How do you know that this isn't what you've been looking for all your life."
Her voice was small when she answered him. "That's what I'm afraid of."
As soon Lance hung up his cell phone, he looked over beside him. "Justin, can you keep a secret?" A devilish glint appeared in his eyes. Justin nodded slowly. "I guess you could tell that I was talking to Brooklyn, and I have this idea, but I'm going to need a lot of help. Why don't you call the rest of the guys so that I can explain all of this."
When Justin ran off to get his phone, Lance leaned his head back and grinned. "They don't know what's going to hit them."
Chapter Three
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