After our petty little argument, I am hesitant to knock on Rhys's dressing room door. I'm assuming he is in here because both Will and I couldn't find him anywhere else. So, here goes nothing!

Knock! Knock!

"Come in!" His voice sounds casual enough, which instantly puts me at ease. As I enter, he's just putting his guitar back in its case. "Hey." Is his calm welcome.

"Hey." Is my calm and relieved reply back. I honestly have no idea how Rhys Ryan manages to annoy the hell out of me one minute, then intimidate me the next, but he totally does.

Remaining seated on the small dressing room sofa, his smile is one that invites me to sit down beside him. "I thought we could finish off the interview now because there won't be any other time to do it otherwise?"

A little surprised for him to not say anything about earlier, I inwardly kick start my professional self. "Um, yes, of course." Fumbling with the vast array of things inside of my bag, I finally find my trusty dictaphone. "Here it is." I announce, blowing away a flustered breath.

Holding it in my lap, I look down to press the RECORD button. It's then that my fingers become immobilised by Rhys's hand being firmly wrapped around mine. "Before we do this, I need to apologise."

Stunned, I rapidly blink up at him. "For what?"

"For being a total jerk." His reply comes out quickly—nervously quickly.

Wanting to put him instantly at ease, I smile. "That's okay." I say, keeping my accepting smile firmly upon my face.

Rhys squeezes my hand, lowering his apologetic eyes before looking back up at me. "It's not okay."

Bringing my other hand onto his, I try to reassure him once again. "Honestly, it's fine."

A stillness seems to blanket us both. An exchanging of a silent something being confusingly passed between us. With his searching sage spheres, Rhys speaks in the softest of voices. "Let's just agree to disagree about it, shall we?" A humorous lilt is carried within his gentle tone.

Infusing my reply with the same humour, I quietly say. "Agreed." Very much aware that our hands are still wrapped around each other's, I do what I didn't feel I could do earlier on. "Are you okay?" There, I've finally asked him.

Gratefully smiling, he slowly nods. "I am now."

Leaning in slightly, I feel confident enough to ask him something else. "Did I upset you in some way back at the studio?"

Lowering his head with a smile, he gently shakes it with a slow side to side action. "Of course not."

Feeling like I need to explain, I do. "It's just that when me and Cameron came back into the studio, you looked at us strangely."

Sitting taller, he pulls his hand from the warmth of both of mine. "I had just received a call from my mom, a call that pissed me off. You guys just walked in at the wrong time, that's all."

Looking carefully at Rhys, I can tell he's not a guy who opens up all that much. He seems uncomfortable admitting the truth to me. Without actually touching him, I try to keep the warm openness between us, still there. "Want to talk about it?" I gently knock against his shoulder, offering him a genteel smile.

His own smile wavers with quiet conflict, struggling to know how to reply back to me. "It's private, Clara."

Although his words are said without malice or anger, I realise that he doesn't trust me. His rejection of my offer to confide in me, actually hurts more than I ever could imagine. Swallowing the lump of hurt quickly back down, I try to vocalise just how unhurt I am. Not looking at him, I start rambling. Irrational and hurt, rambling. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even asked. You barely know me. I barely know you. You're you. I'm a journalist. Of course you wouldn't trust me."

Grabbing me by the shoulders, Rhys talks me down. "It's not that I don't trust you, Clara. It's just my family life is my family life...I find it hard to talk to anyone about." His grip on me eases, but his hands remain on the roundness of my shoulders; like he needs them to be there for just a moment. Raising his eyebrows and holding his breath, he stares at me with a questioning gaze. Eventually exhaling with a regretful sigh. "If only we had met at the beginning of my UK tour." He leaves his quiet statement to linger between us.

In a way, I think I understand Rhys. It really would be nice if we both had more time to become firmer friends. But time is unfortunately not something we have a lot of. With a downturned mouth, I sigh heavily with understanding. "That would have been really nice." I tell him, blinking with whimsical regret.

Removing his hands from my shoulders, Rhys clasps his fingers together as he puts his elbows on his knees before suddenly leaning forward. He is just so weighted down with such a sad burden and looks as though he's about to buckle beneath its strain. "It's my sister...she's addicted to drugs." He remains forward, his hands clenched together with fraught fists. "Mom called earlier to tell me that Maci walked out of her rehab and has used again. She's a total mess."

Unsure of what to say, I do the second thing that I didn't feel I could do earlier on. Wrapping my sympathetic arms right around his curved back, I apologise for all that he is feeling. "I'm so sorry, Rhys."

Bending even more forward and laying his head on his arms, he becomes angry. "I'm so sick of her. I love her, but I'm sick of her." Stroking his tense back, I listen to his outpouring of heavy emotions. "I honestly don't know what to do anymore. I don't even know whether I want to do anything anymore." His anger and hurt just keeps on coming. "I've done all I can. She's on her own now." As soon as the words have left him, he clings onto me with his head falling into my lap. This is obviously something that Rhys Ryan has carried around with him for quite some time. So I just hold him and say nothing. My arms bring whatever comfort they can to a man who so desperately needs that comfort. The kind that doesn't need explaining or has an ulterior motive for giving it. Just warm and freely given comfort. Within the subdued silence, he holds dearly onto me and I sympathetically hold onto him. If I am to be the one to help lessen Rhys's emotional load, I'll gladly do it. The angst-laden minutes pass us by until he eventually lets go of me to sit back up to rest his tired head in his hands. "I'm sorry." He's rubbing his palms anxiously up and down his cheeks, vacantly staring out into the space of the dressing room. For someone who has completely found himself as a singer in the world, now looks so completely lost.

Lifting my right hand, I gently place it on his forearm. Staring down at it, Rhys then tries to look at me but his vulnerability makes him hesitant. Leaning closer, I feel I need to placate him; I need to reassure him. "This won't go any further, I promise." He needed to hear my promise. On top of all that he's dealing with, he shouldn't have the worry of what he has just told me may eventually end up being printed in Fame-Us.

Feeling like he's now able to face me, he carefully turns his head. Vulnerability has taken up residence within his sage eyes, along with the sadness and regret that keeps it company. Blinking infrequently, he just keeps on looking at me for a little while longer before a sad smile starts to tug around the edges of his reluctant mouth. "Why have you only come into my life now?"

How do I respond to such an heartfelt question? I don't rightly know how to, so I just coyly smile back at him before looking down at my hands that are nervously placed within my lap. "Friends crop up in the unlikeliest of places, I suppose?" I anxiously quip.

Sitting straight, he turns a little on the sofa beside me. "Friends?" He deliberately lowers his head, silently questioning me with his squinting eyes.

The intense question.

The intense stare.

They both make me stall with my reply.

Glancing around the room with an unease veiling me, I can't even look at him anymore. "Yes, friends." It's a statement of sorts, a nervy one at that, but a statement nevertheless.

Rhys sits a little closer, not letting the intensity of his stare lessen on me. "Do you mean like you and Cameron are friends?"

Now I really am confused. The whole 'friends' thing with Cam feels completely different to how it does with Rhys. With Rhys, it just feels more complicated and deeper. The sudden realisation that maybe Cam already knew something that I didn't, hits me full on in the chest. Maybe he really could see something was happening between myself and Rhys? He asked me not to fall for Rhys Ryan. Was that because he thought I already had?

Oh my days!

Am I falling?

Am I really falling for Rhys Ryan?

No, I can't.

I really can't.

No, no, no...I really can't.

I tense right up. I don't know where to look. I don't know how to react. I don't even know how to answer. Rhys still waits, calmly.

He even reminds me of his question that I am yet to find the answer for. "Clara? Are you and Cameron just friends?"

Now he has asked it like that, I actually find it really easy to answer. "Yes." Short and sweet is my reply. I know that myself and Cam are only friends. I absolutely know that.

"And what about me?"

Ah, he's got me there! This question is sooooooo much harder to answer. It's not easy at all. It's nothing like his last question. This one requires some rational aforethought. It requires careful consideration. Why, I don't know? Only a few minutes ago, I was comforting a new found friend. Now, I am being asked whether I feel more for that new found friend. But that friend is Rhys Ryan.

No ordinary guy and no ordinary friend.

Maybe I am just overthinking this?

Maybe I am reading too much into what Cameron said to me?

I think I would know if I was falling for someone, right?

"Clara?" Rhys's beckoning voice drags me from out of the pyre of precarious thoughts that I am currently trying to free myself from.

Dazed, I mumble out. "Just friends." There, he has his answer. It's the only safe one that I have right now. Any other answer would be dangerous, and frankly, stupid. It wasn't all that long ago that some sassy sexed-up babe rolled from out of his hotel bedroom. No, I can only ever be friends with someone like Rhys Ryan. Only friends.

I don't think me and my heart could handle anything else. Satisfied with my answer, I smile like I am fulfilled.

Rhys smiles faintly back, pursing his lips in quiet thought. "Just friends?" He seems skeptical, which causes me to be skeptical, which then causes me to falter in my decision. "I don't tell just anybody about my sister, Clara. There's a reason for me opening up to you."

Refusing to believe that there's some profound reason why he has just told me about his unfortunate sister, I try to plead my case. "I just walked in on you at a low ebb, that's all. I was here for you, when no one else was. As a friend, I couldn't just leave you like that."

He almost laughs, he's now the one refusing to believe what I say. "My sister is an addict. Has been for nearly four years now. Few people know the truth about her, because that's how I like to keep it." He stops talking, just needing to clarify things in his own mind before saying another word. Looking directly at me, he carries on. "I don't know why, but since meeting you, you somehow make it all feel better. I have no damn clue of what is happening, but you make things better, Clara." He tentatively now studies me, trying to gauge whether what he has just said has completely freaked me out or not.

It doesn't freak me out. It actually gives me that warm swelling of lushness inside of me that feels so very nice. But I can't be having warm swelling of lushness feelings around Rhys Ryan. I. Just. Can't.

"That's so lovely for you to say that, it really is. As a friend, I am glad that I make you feel that way." God, I am sounding soooo terribly British. "I am also glad that you feel that you can talk to me. I can't imagine how you must feel about Maci. It must be incredibly hard for you and all of your family." In my very British and polite way, I ramble on and on. "Just don't think that this is more than what it is, Rhys. You are carrying an awful lot of emotional stress on your shoulders and you obviously just needed to lighten the load...that's all this is." Just as I'm about to ramble on some more, Rhys places his finger lightly against my lips.

Grimacing with uncertainty, he sighs. Removing his finger from my still mouth, his hand then softly strokes my hair as he looks me deeply in the eyes. "I told you before that I wished we had met each other at the beginning of my tour, and I meant that. We could have spent so much more time together. Now, I feel like I've got to do everything in fast forward."

"Like what?"

"This." Then his lips softly meet mine, kissing me slow and so perfectly. Kissing me so very delicately, it almost feels angelic.

I don't know how long it was until my reaction sensibly kicked in. My mouth was far too busy being seduced and my body wasn't too far behind. Managing to summon the strength to pull away from his pleasurable lips, I recoil at what's just happened. "You can't kiss me, Rhys." I breathily tell him. Inwardly, I feel a mess; a quivering and confused mess. Outwardly though, I look strong and determined.

Rhys remains serious, dead serious. "I just did." Then he dares to even smirk, a slight but smug smirk. "And I think your mouth kinda liked it, too."

He's right, my mouth did like it. But my mouth is a very very very bad mouth. She acted first, thought later. She ran on ahead of my brain and kissed Rhys Ryan back. Very very very bad mouth!

I now have to try to undo all of the kissing carnage that my lips have caused. "It was a nice kiss, but you shouldn't have done it." I steadfastly say, pulling my shoulders back to appear more convincing.

Rhys smiles again, tilting his head slightly. "A kiss can say what the heart sometimes can't." Then he carefully watches me for yet another one of my reactions.

Although remaining unnaturally still, his sweet words do hit a raw and hidden nerve. He waits for some kind of reaction because he knows that I am suppressing one. I keep it suppressed for a very good reason.

When he kissed me, I kissed him back.

When his body leaned into mine, I leaned back.

Now he's speaking from the heart, my heart is listening.

But it mustn't. It really mustn't listen.

My heart doesn't need someone like Rhys Ryan.

My heart needs protecting from all the Rhys Ryan's in the world.

Behind my independent bravado hides a sensitive girl. A girl who falls too quick and gets hurt even quicker. I throw myself into work because it's easier than working at relationships. My career has always come first. My heart second. It's just the way things have always been. Then in a matter of twenty four hours, Mr Mega Famous has made me question all of that.

It's insane.

It's unreasonable.

It can't happen.

I won't let it.

He's Rhys Ryan, for crying out loud!!

I'm just me. Clara Thorn. Plainly pretty twenty nine year old, remember?

So, for as much as my lips really do love to kiss him.

For as much as my body loves to lean in against him.

And for as much as my heart wants to listen to him...I just can't.

Thank goodness for the Taurean in me. She soon stubbornly shows me how to handle this problematic situation. Holding my chin regally high, I stand firm to Rhys Ryan. "It was a kiss that shouldn't have happened." My answer comes out defiant, unprepared to budge on the matter.

With a cautious gaze, Rhys stiffens. "If that is what you really think, then I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He slowly stands, stretching out the awkwardness that now exists between us. "Okay, friend, how about we finish this interview?" There is a certain degree of sarcasm to his reply and he appears to be putting up a net of professionalism around us both.

He is, international pop star.

I am, media journalist.

The nets are safely up. We are now to act accordingly within those nets.

I know he's ticked off. But realistically, what did he expect me to do?
Kiss his face off?

Embark on a deluded long distant relationship with him?

Act upon something that is just a moment of madness?

I think not. So within those safety nets, I go into full-on Clara Thorn mode. I press RECORD on the dictaphone and smile sweetly at him. "If you could have any super power, what would it be?"

Exhaling loudly, like he's graciously accepting the challenge to keep things strictly 'friendly' and 'professional' between us, he answers with a boyish grin. "Irresistible to the opposite sex?"

Annnnnnnd the cocky, immensely annoying Rhys Ryan is most certainly back in the dressing room!