~*One Year Later*~

Celeste walked barefoot along the sandy shore of Jones Beach, NY, her white Vans sneakers attached like velcro to her left hand, her attire contrasting the nippy conditions including high winds, no sunlight, and clouds like dark pillows for angels congesting the sickly-blue sky. It was almost as if it was planned, as if God made sure no one trespassed on a surprising reunion that only they should have the privaledge of experiencing.

Celeste gazed down at the anonymous note she received unstamped and unmarked in every way except for 'Celeste' written on the top, her elongated curls flying in front of her face and around her back like they had a mind of their own. The note simply instructed her to meet at Jones Beach, the little strip of sand ajacent to the stage, at 3 PM. It was only 2:50; she was always early.

Curling her fingers underneath her sky-blue zippered sweat shirt to secure some warmth to her palms, she buried her bottom into the sand, her cut-off jean shorts instantly bombarded with tiny particles of annoyance like sandpaper, frozen to the core. But she didn't care because she was about to be freed from her cage, heading thankfully to California, the other end of the universe as she considered it, for college in a few days. The thought of Hollywood and her favorite corderoy jacket made her heart bubble as if she was crushing on some dreamy heartthrob with the thought of Chris, Chris and her not seeing each other since Feburary Break.

She heard a whistle sound off behind her, the wind helping her pivot in the direction of the noise, Chris, Jesse, and Matt striding closer towards her, Celeste noting how much a few months, let alone a year, changes a guy physically, Matt looking brawnier beneath his polo jeans yet familiar softness still illuminated his small eyes, Jesse's babyfied face slimming away from his youthful pudginess, Chris's arms almost buldging from his black pullover as if it was a wet paper bag as the wind jammed over and against the sleeves, Chris's hair relaxed from hair gel, wax, and the past.

"Guys!" Celeste shouted joyously, kicking sand behind her as she scurried up to them like a child not familiar with the concept of gravity, Chris lifting up his yellow sunglasses with a smirk on his face, Matt and Jesse waving childly at her, as she engulfed them in a well-defined bear hug, Chris and Celeste's cheeks brisking each other like the wind kisses the trees.

"It's been a while," Matt announced with a regrettable sigh, his bright eyes dancing through the murkyness thundering above them.

"You guys have to stop touring," Celest desisted, pushing at Jesse's arm playfully, Jesse rolling his neck to relieve the tension ripping his muscles, with a mini smile, "You don't get a moment's rest."

"We're loved," Chris responded with a shrug of his shoulders, no craft or wit descracing his surprisingly real show of indecisiveness, "Can't help it."

Celeste's hand closed over his, Chris glancing up from behind his sunglasses, his eyes noticably tiny behind a shield of discomfort, discomfort from this trite life without any surprises...the surprises like last summer. "You don't need to be famous to be loved," Celeste confided in him, Chris pushing an appreciative smile through his stoic face.

"Look!" Jesse shouted, pointing over Celeste's shoulder as he saw two bodies approach them arm in arm from the parking lot, only obscure figures penetrating the gloom.

"What do we have here?" Celeste asked Taryn as she perched her hands on her hips and raised a thin eyebrow, Taryn's smile reflecting her relentless austere personality as she broke the bond between her and Frankie's arm, her capri-cut black pants shaking wildly in the breeze. Taryn had simmered down a bit with her radical expression, only red highlights tainting her naturally medium brown hair, her hair sprouting out to her chin, choppy strands sticking up against the wind like quills. Frankie looked as charmed as ever with his incredable smile white with brillance and those eyebrows we all find strange but all love.

"Miss Taryn and Mr. Franklin?" Jesse asked suspiciously, stroking at his chin as if deciding if this situation was feasible or not.

"Better be careful what you say, Jess," Taryn threatened lightheartedly, bumping hips with Celeste and scanning her eyes down the line of boys as if sizing them up, her insides smiling brightly; she could always call them her friends, "Assumptions can be deadly. One day, I can sue your ass."

"Some things never change," Frankie replied in reflection, shaking his head lightly as he joined Taryn's side, a small circle of friends huddling together like a cold bunch of kids stuck in a ponderous rain strorm, trying to heat back to normal temperature with the withdrawal of steamy breath.

"Heeeeeeey!" the 6 friends heard a voice carry to their ears from the wind, the wind whipping relentlessly at their unguarded faces as they turned to the parking lot, the long, brown hair and piercing green eyes signafying Jessa had arrived, her hand whipping a pair of purple boxers around her head like a lasso, her other hand holding a large G+G/Rave bag, her sandblasted flares brushing the sand from her path like a vacuum in reverse as she ambled closer, tossing the purple boxers with an overhand throw to Jesse, color simmering on his cheeks like he had been smacked by the sun as he looked back at her sheepishly, the gang giggling at the remarkable resemblance of color between Jesse's underwear and Jesse's favorite night shirt.

"Those got in my bags somehow," Jesse informed Jesse with feign innocence, supressing her unruly hair with a thick hair tie.

"I know, you needed to have a...personal memory of him," Matt responded with a light chuckle, Jesse holding the boxers behind his back as if no one had seen them and smiling with embarassment.

Greg looked down at the crowd from the parking lot and the perilous sands swirling about his legs, the gang laughing and horsing around like they were still lost in a trip they wish would never end, Greg feeling envy run through his blood, turning it ice cold.

Jessa glanced behind her shoulder as if Greg was hovering over her and not climbing down the slope of a sandy mountain. Taryn and Celeste rushed to greet him, Greg accpeting them into his arms genially with a million dollar smile, Jessa just peering at him, no emotion depicted on her face. Greg hobbled foward through the sand storm, glancing over at Jessa, a small smile slipping on his face as if to assure her he was alright when it was really Jessa rotting inside, his absense in the months making even facing him unbearable to Jessa, Jessa ripe with things to say, but too in love to jeopardize what they have. She used to fear being in love, now she feared being alone.

Greg felt horrible, not being there in general, their 6 month and one year anniversary spent apart as Greg performed to a large crowd in Hawaii and a sports arena in Ontario instead of a small, personal crowd of one back at home. Jessa didn't call what they had a relationship, it was Jessa being around only when it was convenient for Greg and Greg barely given time to call her once a week while he was stuck on tour. She felt so used and mixed up inside that she didn't know what she felt. She loved him...period. But if this is love, Jessa didn't want to find it again. An even more reprimanding thought, maybe Heather was telling the truth.

"How are you, Jessa?" Greg asked with forced brightness, odviously uncomfortable with the words Jessa didn't reply back, leaving a pixie kiss on her lips, his gesture barely moving her emotionally because it felt empty, the static barely jumping through the air.

"I'm alright," Jessa confessed evenly, nodding to make her heart agree what her mind was spirting out, her eyes searching the sand as if she lost something, maybe her will. The corners of her mouth darted up to ease his tensed eyes, her arms pulling him down into a hug clouded over with moments like these, how only scarce moments make their relationship fruitful, the chances to hold each other growing thinner with every new record sold. Oranges blossomed in his nose as they embraced, for a brief moment, hating being a member of Dream Street.

"So who comtemplated this little get-together on the coldest, windiest day of the summer?" Chris asked with squinting eyes, his teeth dramatically chattering together, thrusting his arms underneath the warmth of his armpits. All he got in response were blank stares.

"Ashley set this up," Jessa piped in, her hand searching through her gray Adidas sweatshirt's pocket for Ashley's letter, her eyes morphing into odd shapes as her search progressed. "Her parents...sent her to Texas as a surprise for a late 16th B-Day present...so she could ride the horses again. She gave me these and this letter."

Jessa handed the bag nonchalantly to Greg, Greg extractig a small, black photo album out of the bag as the bag made its way around the circle like in a game of "Hot Potatoe", everyone holding identical photo albums as Jessa unfolded the letter and cleared emotion building up along her throat like plaque, her voice trying to pound its way through the turbulent air.

Dear Chris, Matt, Jesse, Greg, Frankie, and my DS Cutie Quad,
Time has pulled us apart somewhat. Of course, last summer had long days without school and even longer nights in the company of friends. I've been planning to do this for a while, and now that the summer is here, and almost over, I decided this was an opprotune time.
My boys are heading off to Europe for a month on their first international tour when school starts, and Jessa and Celeste are leaving me chilled in Frost Valley (I don't hold it against you, girls. I'd get out of here when I could, too Ü). I put together each of you a photo album of last summer, a personal memoire of a time where we all grew in many ways. I know it's a treasured era in my life, and I'm sure it is in all yours, too! So with a lot of man-hours and money, I present you all with "Go For a Ride : Summer 2002, Ashley's movie". Enjoy. I miss and love you all.
All my heart,
Ashley

Everyone gawked at the small photo albums in awe and amazement, flipping through the pages as if it was a comic book, little comments like "Hot smile, Frankie" and "THAT'S what Jesse made us for dinner," inserted below for comical relief. In a huddle, some sitting and some squatting, the pictures began to retell a tale of boxers and goldfish...

"I think Greg and I should of hooked up," Taryn suggested wryly, one of the first pictures pasted in the album was of her and him on a stage of bright lights. "We'd make quite a pair."

"I get enough complaining from my mother, thank you," Greg resisted gently, Taryn chuckling along with the rest of them as the wind turned pages graciously for them with an invisable hand.

"Look!" Celeste squealed, pointing down at Chris's picture of him, Celeste, Jessa, Taryn, and Matt chowing down at Dream Street's breakfast table, moments before Jesse sauntered out in his sleep wear. "We are so adorable."

"Especially me!" Matt shouted with pride. In the picture, Matt held up two bits of Corn Pops and utilized them for eyes, his lips twisted in a goofy laugh.

"Now that's what I want my kids to look like," Jesse responded, rolling his eyes, the wind toppling him over more than Matt did, Matt taking credit for the wind's magnitude.

"You want to have kids with me?" Matt asked, unsure of Jesse's comments, dead silence filling the void of Jesse's clarity as Taryn and Celeste broke into laughter, Jesse retaliating with a push of his own to Matt, Matt's occasional stupidity overpowering his intelligence.

After a bunch of misselaneous pictures and pics from July 4th, They all slowed down for the 'California' pics, pics from the last weeks before turmoil and bedlam were set upon the girls' RV, in the piicture, smiles glinting their vivid, flawless faces, small jokes cracking in the air like lightning about Uncle Dan and the French Menu.

"We all looked so nice," Jessa commented solemly, Greg wrapping his arm around her tiny waist, the "couples" taking a moment inside Bridecliff for a photo op, everyone wearing pearly smiles, missing pieces like from a game being discovered hidden in the back of their minds, coming forth to complete the set.

The afternoon together was wonderful, friendship resuscitating from the grave hands of time, the friends drunk in their own sunlight, the sunlight like an iron shield encompassing them in immortality, as long as they held on to the memories.

The whirlwind crash course of the exciting summer, as if they could forget, came to a halt where Ashley put the last picture in the last slot of the album, a shot of Dream Street and their finishing "It Happens Every Time" move, their shadows dusting the stage like ashes of the cremated, ashes of past stars gracing that same stage, bodies leaping into the picture to celebrate the boys' triumphant return to NY, Dream Street's hands extending to the sky to thank God for the summer they had, the girls they met, the hearts they conquered.

"It was great," Jesse announced on an gust of breath, arms stretching for shoulders and waist as they created a human chain of love and appreciation that would never be broken even when the sand settled.........

"Greg," Jessa whispered softly, her heart withering away like a dying rose inside her chest, intertwining her fingers in his. "I need to do something. I don't think I should do it without you."

"Alright," Greg replied, confused, the two of them breaking from the group and taking a little stroll down the beach, the sand gritty under their shoes, the clouds grumbling above their heads, the waves crashing dangerously hard agaist their calves. Jessa spotted a good digging ground, stopping short as Greg stumbled foward, his brain focused on what Jessa could possibly need to do with him, Jessa allowing a little giggle crawl from her lips to ease the pain.

"I need an answer, here and now," Jessa began forcefully, releasing her hand from his as dropped onto her knees and began to dig into the sand like a groundhog, her hands working swiftly downward as she continued, her back traveling up and down in the stormy air as her claws worked through the sand, "I'm ready to bury the past for the last time. I need you to do it with me." A little parched, she rose from the grave she built, whiping her hand over the sweat like slime lurching over her brow. She took Heather's cross from her pocket, it dangling from its chain over the grave like a pendilum.

"Jessa..." Greg started, still lost in her words, gazing at the cross like it hypnotized him before flinching his eyes away.

"Let me clarify," Jessa eased him, her eyes fixed on the cross swinging in front of her, "I hadn't got rid of this awful thing before this because I wasn't sure if we would last...that is, my heart wasn't sure...nothing is ever full-proof. Rockily, we've made it this far, over a year, and despite what my actions or coldness may tell you, I want to, I long to, am desperate to stay with you." Her eyes then snapped to Greg, Greg peering back at her with unintended horror, imagining the worst possible scenario unfolding in front of him. Her free hand grazed his bracelete, a bracelet he only wore in the company of her and his family and friends, not among the masses he seranading nightly, as if he was ashamed to proclaim his love in silent protest. "I'm not asking you to choose between me and Dream Street in any way, that would be unfair. But I feel...inadequate because you're never around. I know Dream Street is a dire commitment, but Dream Street isn't all you deserve to have. You are my first love and hopefully, faithfully, my only love. I need your word, your vow, that you will make us last, not keep this one-sided like it's been the past few months. If you're not ready for that, I'm ready to take this as my prize and believe that you were nothing but a bet to ease the pain you would cause me if you day no, something I and you couldn't live with, something I, in my hallow heart, contrasting what my mind drilled me, never believed after I saw you on that stage this summer. I was too scared to admit the truth."

Greg gazed into her green eyes, her eyes stern but soft with her proposal, Greg imagining the tears creeping up from her swollen heart underneath her golden skin. As terrible as she made their situation sound, it was pretty bad, but Greg didn't want to lose her, the only thing normal and constant in his life, the last large piece to complete his perfect puzzle. But slacking off with Dream Street just as they were reaching the zenith of their careers? That infamous question between business and love kneeded and tweeked at his heart like it was clay, ready to mold to anyone's whim. Jessa's lips began to quiver, every second passing them like a train carrying Greg's acceptance of their new terms away from her.

Finally, Greg enveloped his hand over hers, a visable spark exploding between their hands like a firecracker, like a shooting star, like what they felt statically though their touches and pulsating through their hearts but never saw, the two of them gawking down at it with misbelief, their eyes blinking feverishly to assure what they saw was real.

"That must be a good sign" Greg spoke, his voice soft like cotton, his eyes sedating into a relaxed state as a Cheshire smile blinked on his face, Jessa's lips thankfully pressing against his as the cross slipped from her hand and into the pit, the wind covering it with blankets of sand, tucking its new child into eternal sleep, the cross laying genially next to Jessa's empty jar of tears she disposed of last year, her past permanently buried beneath where the dilusional walked, where the lovers loved, where the dreamers dreamed, where the young lived...forever.