JACKS

I'm insane.

Completely, unquestionably insane.

I have officially lost it.

I've only just met this girl. I hardly know her. And she's taken.

Not just taken—very taken. Engaged.

I rub a hand over my face as I step out of the elevator and into the hallway.

So why can't I stop thinking about her?

She's just a girl. Just a cute little rambling blonde with freckled cheeks and terrible dance moves and a gorgeous laugh.

I sigh as I reach my apartment door and slip my key into the lock.

"Where have you been?" Dre asks as I enter the apartment and close the door behind me. "That was the longest coffee run you've ever been on. Did you run into paparazzi or something?"

"No, just stayed a little longer at the cafe."

"Uh huh," he says with his brow furrowed. "Okay, man, spill. Why are you smiling like a kid on Christmas?"

Dré has always seen right through my bullshit.

"It's nothing. I just... sort of... met someone." I shrug and walk past him into the living room and sit on the couch.

"For real? At Starbucks?" His voice raises in pitch slightly. "That's great. Who is it?"

"It's a girl. She's a photographer." I can feel the smile stretch across my face. "She's got that classic, effortless, California-girl cool. She's whip-smart and knows music like you wouldn't believe. She's carefree and funny and pretty as hell. I'm telling you, I could spend all day talking with this girl and never get bored. She's... something special."

"Wow, you seem smitten already." He sits beside me on the couch and gives me a slightly concerned look. "You sure you're not a little too invested here? You know how you can be."

He has no idea.

My mind runs through the images again.

Skye dancing to the music with abandon as the light through the windows hit her sun-kissed skin. Her tousled blond hair sweeping across her shoulders as she looked my way.

Yep. Definitely too invested.

"I know, I know." I shake my head.

"I don't mean to give you shit, man," he says, patting me on the shoulder. "It's a good thing—you're a dreamer. Hell, a lot of people said you couldn't do all the things you've done so far. You just have that look you get in your eyes when you want something really bad. I just want to make sure you're not getting your hopes up here. I don't want to see you hurt."

"I know but I just... I feel it in my bones, you know? Like this girl is the one for me."

He sighs and scratches his eyebrow.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about, Jacks. You want something and you don't see any other way. You get this tunnel vision and that's part of what makes you so successful, but one of these days you're not gonna get what you want. You don't even know this girl. She could be a psycho. She could be a lesbian. She could be-"

"Engaged?" I mumble.

"Exactly," he says, pausing as his eyes meet mine and widen slightly. "Oh god, she's not actually... She's engaged?? How do you know?"

"I met him."

"Shit, man..." he says, kneading his brow in his hands. "Only you would meet a girl and her fiancé at the same time and not see that as a major roadblock."

"If you met her, you'd get it."

"You have nearly every woman and man in the world basically falling at your feet. Are you sure you don't just want her because she's the only one you can't have?"

"You're wrong." I shake my head. "I'm not interested in her because she's unavailable. It just feels... right."

"You know this is nuts, right? You can't just come in and sweep an engaged woman off her feet. Do you have any idea what a field day the press would have with that? As your manager, you gotta know I'm gonna tell you this is a bad idea."

"What about as my friend?"

"As your friend, it's still a bad idea!"

"You didn't see this guy, Dre. He's the blandest person I've ever met. They make no sense together. He's totally wrong for her."

"And you're right for her?"

"Yeah, I think I am."

"You think this guy is just gonna let you—famous heartthrob bachelor Jackson Ford—come take his fiancé out on a date?"

"No, I mean... I don't exactly have a plan. But he doesn't seem to know who I am anyway, so I've got that going for me."

"Really? Has he been living under a rock or what?"

I shrug.

I try not to have a big ego, but he's got a point. It's rare that someone doesn't recognize me these days. I usually have to wear sunglasses and hats everywhere I go. Even then, I still get people stumbling over themselves or asking for autographs or taking pictures of me as I walk by.

"Does she know who you are?" he asks.

"I'm pretty sure. She froze and stumbled over her words quite a bit. I don't think that was just a response to my natural charms. Plus she seems to know her music."

"You think she's a fan?"

"Not sure," I say, rubbing my chin.

It's an interesting question. Sure, she knows who I am, but that doesn't necessarily mean she likes me or my music. A lot of people actually hate me, but I didn't get that vibe from her at all.

Dré lets out a heavy sigh and sits down beside me.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch. You know I only want what's best for you, right?"

"I know," I say with a nod.

"Well, your interview with Virgin Radio is all set up in your office. You have about 20 minutes before you need to call in. Then you're free till your photoshoot at 2:00 pm."

He stands up and walks into the next room.

I pull Skye's card out of my pocket, flipping it between my fingers as I read each side over and over again.

Skye Kennedy Photography.

Fashion. Product. Boudoir.

323-555-0151

*****

Dre sits in an office chair in the corner, listening in on headphones as we wait for the interview to start.

"This is Caitlin James with Virgin Radio and today we have with us former boy bander turned solo pop sensation Jackson Ford. He's joining us over the phone from his home in Los Angeles, California. Hello, Jackson, how are you doing this afternoon? Or—I guess, morning for you over there?"

"Yep," I say. "It's still morning over here. Doing well, though, thank you."

"Excellent. So Jackson, you have a big tour coming up later this year. Could you tell us about that?"

"Sure thing, yeah. So Roman and I are teaming up for a tour starting this September. We're gonna be doing a North American tour, but we couldn't just leave out the UK, so in November we're doing a series of dates in Scotland and England, including two nights in London."

"A tour with your old bandmate, Roman Dewan? I know our listeners are going to go wild over that."

Glad someone's happy about that. Roman and I have never gotten along particularly well. He's always considered himself God's gift to music and thought he was better than everyone else. He was like that even when we were young.

"Are you excited to be back on tour together?" she asks.

God no.

"Of course! It's nostalgic, going back on the road together."

Dre gives me a knowing smile and shakes his head.

"Will you be playing just your solo music or might we hear a hit or two from your N3XT days?"

According to the record label, we're explicitly not allowed to play anything from the band catalog or use the band name in promotion. Some legal BS.

Doesn't bother me much, though, since I've performed those songs enough to last a lifetime.

"We're sticking to our new stuff for this tour. Roman's new album dropped last month and I have a new one coming out toward the end of the tour, so fans will get to hear a lot of brand new material for the first time."

"Fantastic," she says. "Roman has been pretty open about his new album, Reminiscent, being about his split from supermodel Lita James. What has been the inspiration for your upcoming album?"

"Well, it's still a work in progress. I've still got some studio days ahead of me. But I'm drawing inspiration from a little bit of everywhere."

It's a cliché answer, I know, but the truth is I'm way behind in writing the rest of the album. The label has been on my ass about it and they're shooting down everything I've sent over. They want me to consider recording some prewritten material, but I've always written my own songs. I don't want to perform other people's music.

"Any special muses in your life right now?" she asks. "You've certainly been seen spending time with a few young stars."

Figures. I go out shopping or to the movies with a friend, the paparazzi snaps a photo, and suddenly we're 'rumored lovers out on the town'.

"No," I say. "I'm enjoying the single life right now. I'm a bit older now, my priorities have changed. I used to want to just partner up for the sake of having a warm body nearby, not being alone. But I'm okay with being alone now. These days, I'm waiting for the right person to really come along and blow me away."

Then again, maybe I'm not waiting anymore.

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