Chapter 2
“Don’t tell me you’re serious?” Ashley stretched her leg out and crossed it over her right knee.
“Oh, believe me I am. He’s probably moving in his crap at this precise moment.”
“But how? Why? The two of you broke up months ago…”
“Tell that to Nick,” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Oh you know how he is. He’s like the plague. When he wants something he won’t quit till he gets it. It’s that same determination that’s gotten him to where he is today with his career. Can’t say that’s particularly a bad thing, but now that it’s putting him back into my life…I just can’t even fathom how I’m gonna stand living with him.”
“Well you’ll have to move out then. It’s not worth it.”
“Oh no,” she shook her head, “No. I am not moving out. I am far too stubborn to move out and give him what he wants. No. I am going to make him regret even thinking of living with me. I am going to torture him day and night until he’s on his knees begging me to move out.”
“Now,” Ashley smirked, “That is something I would love to see. Nick on his knees begging for anything.”
“Tell me about it,” she droned. Looking at her watch she noted that her lunch break was over and it was time to get back to work. “About that time…” she smiled.
For a living Chelsea works for an advertising firm. From an early age on she’d always had a passion for painting the prettier picture of everything. Perhaps, that explains her long and torturous relationship with Nick. She’d always had the ability to accentuate the positive and it was this skill that led her to nearly the top of her field. At the young age of 21, she was offered a job her junior year of college, dropped out of school, and had been in the boom business of advertising and marketing ever since. Sorta interesting when an ad executive and a pop star were conducting a whirl-wind romance. Yes, that was indeed ironic to say the least. But it ended none-the-less.
Later around 6 o’clock she stepped out of her silver Mercedes M-class and approached the front door. Having spotted Nick’s truck in the driveway she was already in a bad mood and she wasn’t sure exactly how she was gonna approach the situation of living with him once again. But she couldn’t let him know how much it bothered her.
“Honey, you’re home!” he gushed with exasperation and she wished that he would just choke on it.
“Yes, I am. So, how about you go to your home now?”
“Oh don’t be silly,” he laughed and kissed her cheek. As soon as he stepped back she quickly lifted her hand and wiped it away. “This is my home. So,” he clapped his hands together, “For my homecoming I thought I’d order us some take-out and we can watch the game on TV.”
“Or you can order take-out and watch the game by yourself on TV. I’ve got plans. Sorry,” shrugging she walked up the stairs to her bedroom. Apparently he was trying to ignore the fact that she’d located a life since their break up, something he was obviously yet to do.
Frowning he watched her figure disappear up the staircase. “Where are you going?” he called after with the simple answer, which he already expected…‘None of your business.’
Would things ever get easy? She wondered as she searched through her closet for something to wear. The truth was she did have plans. To get away from him. Actually, there were perks to being Nick Carter’s ex-girlfriend…it got you into some pretty posh clubs and into the path of many other single and available men. So her love life was definitely more then booming, well not quite as much as Nick’s was when…well, never mind that. When the doorbell rang she yelled down the stairs, “Nick, can you get that? I’ll be right down.”
Munching on an apple he walked to the front door and opened it, to spot probably one of his favorite new artists. “Hi,” he said.
“Oh, hey…do I have the wrong house?” he asked sorta confused to see a former Backstreet Boy chewing on food in a basketball jersey and sweats before him.
“Nah, Chelsea’s upstairs still getting ready. It takes her a long time to cover up the rash.”
“Rash?” he asked following him inside the hallway.
“Yea, the one on her face. Wait, she didn’t mention it to you? Hmm, guess she was embarrassed. I’m sorry man; forget I even mentioned it…”
“John,” she smiled joining them. “You ready to go?” John, was actually John Mayer. She’d met him at an upscale bar a few months back while he was touring. He, not Nick, was actually the inspiration behind her guitar playing. She was so smitten by him that she left that night fully determined to learn how to play that instrument, a birthday gift from Nick, if it killed her.
“You doing ok?” John asked quizzically and she gave him a confused look. “I was just wondering, you look, a little…sick, or something.”
Chelsea turned to look at Nick who was trying to stand there innocently. “Oh, if he gave you the old rash line it’s just a joke. Nick here, well we used to date and he’s having a hard time accepting that we’re over. That’s why he’s here actually. He’s taken it upon himself to move back in, uninvited of course.”
“Oh,” John nodded sorta confused. He wasn’t used to this sorta stuff. He was more apt to spend his spare time wandering around New York by himself, not watching an old couple bicker. “Ok, well let’s go. The concert starts in about an hour.” A music man himself, John had made it his mission to transform Hannah’s taste in music from the hard rock to the more mellow and acoustic. Tonight they were going to see Maroon 5. A growing band who John had played with a few times and was planning a future tour with.
“When you gonna be back?” Nick asked after them.
“Oh you don’t have to wait up,” she answered not even bothering to turn around.
As he watched them drove away in some classy SUV he frowned to himself. Damn it! Rushing inside he picked up the phone and dialed his friend AJ. AJ’d be the only person to understand as he himself had just gone through a break up and had the pleasure of watching his ex hanging all over Colin Farrel at some hot spot in Seattle. Neither of them understood what it was about that stupid man from Ireland, Scotland, or one of those stupid European countries. What was wrong with Americans? Butch, manly, dirty Americans?
“Fuck man!” Nick yelled into the phone without even bothering to say hello first. “She’s dating fucking John Mayer!”
“Who’s dating John Mayer? Allison! That bitch. If I’d known she was gonna slut herself around I would have never of gone out with her.”
“No, noooo!” Nick protested, “Not Allison, although yea she is a bitch…Chelsea. She asked me to answer the door for her and I open it to see JOHN MAYER in front of me about to take MY GIRLFRIEND out to some STUPID concert.” He was yelling so hard that he actually thought he saw spit fly out of his mouth, “To think I ever liked his music. That ass hole.”
“Nick?” AJ spoke up, “She’s not your girlfriend remember? She broke up with you months ago.”
“Yes, but…well you know what I mean. God! I can’t believe it. The nerve of him showing up at my house to take her out…”
“Not everyone knows how desperate you are to get her back,” he laughed and Nick tightened his grip in frustration. He hated when people laughed at him, especially since he expected AJ to understand. “I mean, dude, I totally understand where you’re coming from. It sucks, totally sucks, but it’s not his problem. I guess you could say it’s your problem. Gee! They say we’re supposed to have it all but if I have it all why couldn’t I hold onto Allison?”
“Or Sarah? Or Amanda?” Nick added to the list.
“Ok, ok! I get it. I suck at keeping women around.”
“Yea, but me too man.” Shaking his head he threw his apple core in the trash can, “Maybe I was totally stupid to think this would work…”
“Nick, you’re always totally stupid.”
“Yes, but, argh! I really thought that if I put in a little effort that she’d see I was serious about wanting to get back together and everything would fall into place. I wasn’t expecting her to be so damn bitter about everything.”
“Well, you did…”
“Forget what I did. It’s over! And I apologized, over and over again.”
“Yes, but some things are too hard to forget.”
“Well either way, this is Chelsea. She’s not supposed to be so serious and hateful. Don’t you remember when we met her? Now she’s totally different. It’s like she’s not even the same person anymore.” It sounded like he wasn’t even talking to anyone anymore, except himself. And it was then that it occurred to him that she wasn’t the same person anymore because he had changed her.
“I can see that. But whatever it is that’s different about her you can work around. For once Nick, hang in there. I know more than anyone how much you love her because hell, I was the one who had to deal with all your crap after you two split. But listen, when she gets back from her date with Mr. Grammy just pretend like it doesn’t bother you in the least.”
“But it does bother me!” he whined.
“Yea, just don’t let her know that ok. And even more, don’t whine.”
“I don’t--”
“Uh, yea you do. Anyways bro, I gotta go. Going to some new club tonight but I’ll give ya a call tomorrow to see how things went. See ya.”
The phone was hung up and Nick just plopped his head down on the counter. “Somewhere around here there have got to be photo albums,” he concluded. “I need a reminder of why this is worth all the trouble I’m being put through.”
Finding his way into the study he searched the bookshelf and sure enough found three photo albums. Seems like a lot but when you’re together as long as the two of them were you’re bound to accumulate tons of pictures, especially when you’d traveled as much as they had, when you’re photographed by the media as much as they were, and when you have a passion for photography the way she did. He flipped through the albums reminiscing on each individual picture. Paris. There was them in Euro-disney. There was them in Australia. There was them in New York. There was them sitting in the backyard. Together they’d been everywhere.
One particular picture caught his eye; it was taken the night Chelsea decided to call a quits on their relationship. Nick was smiling, proudly holding her in his arms and she just stared blankly at the camera. It was like she had never met him before in her entire life. Like he was just some stranger to her.
When he heard the door open he stood up and closed the photo album, peeking out into the hallway he say her kiss that stupid idiot good-bye. As if she’d been struck by lighting she closed the door and walked in a daze. “How was the concert?” he asked.
“Oh,” she gulped, “You startled me. It was fine.”
“Glad to hear it. Maroon 5…I think I’ve heard them before.”
“Yea, that’s nice.” From there he totally ignored her and he wondered what it was about him that she didn’t love anymore. She used to look at him with stars in her eyes and now it was like she didn’t even look at him at all.
“Chelsea,” he called after her, “I wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened between us.”
“Yea,” she nodded, “So am I.”
It was when she walked away that he realized he couldn’t give up hope. He had to do exactly what he was there to do. No matter it what it cost him because the way he saw it, he had already lost everything the day he lost her.
* * * *
“Oh it was so much fun,” Chelsea gushed on the phone about her evening with John to her mom. “You know I think John and I are really hitting it off. You know what I like most about him? How down to earth he is. In fact, I think he hates being a celebrity. He’s the first famous person I’ve ever met that’s truly in it for the music.”
‘So what does that mean?’ Nick asked himself as he listened in on her conversation from the hallway. ‘Am I some stuck up jerk only out there for fame and fortune?’ He thought she knew him better then that but maybe he was wrong.
“Ok, mom, well I’m gonna go to bed now. Have to get up tomorrow for work,” there was a moment of silence and then she answered some question Nick only could assume her mom asked, “Oh yes. It’s going really well. I pitched the concept to them last week and they really went with it.”
‘What the hell is she talking about?’ he wondered and realized he knew absolutely nothing about advertising. Well, other then it was really important to promote albums, concerts, appearances, artists in general, etc… But he knew better then to think she devoted her life to advertising pop stars like him. She was probably advertising something really intellectual. Some, some, well some big word he couldn’t even pronounce let alone know what it meant.
“Ok Mom, I love you too. Night.” She leaned over and hung up the phone, sighing as she sunk back into her pillow. For some reason she couldn’t erase the smile on her face. It was permanently stuck there.
Nick decided it was time for his entrance. He walked in and pulled back the covers to crawl into his side of the bed.
“Uh, what are you doing?” Chelsea asked as he hopped next to her with a death glare.
He yawned slightly and looked over, “Tired. I’m getting some sleep.”
She shook her head, “Not in here you’re not,” she said with a laugh.
“This house is just as much mind as it is yours. So why do you get the master bedroom?”
“Try because it’s mine,” she answered and with a smug expression she reached over and pushed him out of the bed. “Good night Nick,” she yawned as he robbed his head, that was surely gonna have a bump in the morning, and switched off the light.
Retreating he rose to his feet watching her figure try to fall asleep and as he sunk into his own bed in the next room he remembered just what it was like to lay there next to her. To feel her in his arms. It was dreaming of those days in his head that he fell deeply asleep.
Chapter 3
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