"Dammit, why didn’t we take the place in building one?" she cursed knowing well that she and her friend – now roommate – Kristy couldn’t do without the view of the intricately detailed landscape near the pool area.  They had both fallen for the unique Floridian complex with its palm, orange and palmetto trees.

The condo itself was typical of the Sunshine State complete with French doors leading to a small veranda.  The women each had their own loft bedroom that faced the spacious livingroom, kitchen and dining area below.  Whoever designed the place certainly seemed to have Cheryl and Kristy in mind.

The two friends had met in cyberspace.  Both were writers of fan fiction and had a love for music – especially that of the Backstreet Boys.  They could credit these two hobbies for helping forge their relationship, but they soon discovered they had even more in common, including hopes for life and love.

After a few months of emailing one another, they realized their dreams.  Kristy took a job at the progressive Disney-affiliated Orlando Medical Center; Cheryl earned a position as public relations manager for the Walt Disney World Resort.  Giving their two-week notice at their old jobs, the duo flew to Orlando and found their spectacular new Polk County home without much aggravation.

Cheryl drove down from Boston and had arrived the night prior.  Kristy was due from Oregon that morning via Orlando International Airport.  Cheryl glanced at her watch after setting her box down in the living room. " Two hours.  Better get ready to go get Kris."  She brushed a red curl from her sweat-beaded forehead.  ‘It’s so hot.  Guess we should have moved in December,’ she thought as she headed toward what would not be her last shower of the day.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the condo wearing the blue shirt that her mother insisted brought out the color in her blue-green eyes and her favorite khaki Old Navy bib shorts.

Before she left, though, she had made certain to hang a poster of Kevin Richardson in Kristy’s room knowing that his face would be the best way to welcome her friend to their new home.  She didn’t ignore her own Backstreet obsession either having hung a picture of Howie Dorough on the outside of the closet door directly across from her bed.

Her thoughts of Howie’s deep brown eyes staring at her from the wall were interrupted by a male voice.  "Hello."

Cheryl turned toward the voice and acknowledged the man.  "Hello."  She unconsciously glanced him over.  He looked to be in his thirties.  He wasn’t much taller than her and had to be at least part Hispanic with his dark complexion.  He wore his brown hair short and had incredible deep brown eyes.

"I’m John.  Let’s see, if you are coming out of building five, you must be either Cheryl or Kristy."

"Cheryl," she responded shaking his hand.

"I just wanted to welcome you Orlando and please if you need anything, let the office know.  We’re here to help."

"Thanks….Actually, maybe you can tell me the quickest way to the airport.  I’m set to pickup my roommate in an hour."

"Sure…Sometimes it seems like my second home."  He smiled.  Cheryl produced a Central Florida map and John helped point out her route.  "We’ll see you around."

"Thanks, John."

"No problem."

Cheryl hopped in her car and drove from the parking lot.  She took a second to glance in the rearview mirror.  "Cute.  I could definitely get use to living in Florida," she said aloud and giggled then popped her copy of Millennium into the stereo.