MJ woke up alone, with a smile on her face, to find a fragrant blossom of some sort on Heath's pillow, pink and purple and lovely. She wondered if he'd gone downstairs in the early morning hours to the hotel gardens to pluck it, or if he'd called to have someone bring it up.

She decided she didn't care, and carefully pressed it into the pages of one of her books to preserve it. And when she saw him, later that morning, at a tour meeting, with everyone assembled, to discuss the schedule for the next few days, she merely gave him a tiny smile across the room, and left it to him to come lean on the wall next to her, to quietly clasp her hand behind them, so no one could see. It gave her a little thrill to feel his warm fingers twine around hers, very briefly, to squeeze them before releasing them.

Nigel was supposed to arrive the afternoon before the second show, and Meredith had some famous friends arriving that day as well. Kate Dawson, a singer, and Donna Asheley, a model, were joining her for about a week, and Sally was organizing a tour of Abu Dhabi and its outskirts before they flew on to Rome for the European leg of the tour.

"This is going to be so much fun," Meredith gushed as they went up to her hotel room after the meeting. "Sally's arranged like a desert caravan adventure for us the day after the show, you know? For Donna, Kate, Me, Heath and Nigel? With camels and tents and everything." She smiled at MJ. "The photographers are going to be killing each other trying to get pictures, and they're going to be gorgeous, with the sand and everything."

"Are you going to want me to go on that?" MJ asked. Her contract had said nothing about riding on camels, and she was feeling less than enthusiastic about spending the night in a tent.

"Oh, god, no," Meredith assured her. "I'm so sorry, I mean, you'd probably break the camel's back, for one thing, and things might get, uh, romantic, if you know what I mean?" she added. "It could be awkward if you were fifth wheeling it." Meredith turned and went into her bathroom with a little titter.

MJ didn't bother to point out that, with three girls and two guys, one of them was going to define the term "fifth wheel." She felt nothing but relief that she wouldn't be attending the casbah outing or whatever it would be called. She wondered if Heath even knew about it.

Meredith came out of her bathroom saying, "I just sent you a list what I want you to get before my friends come, did you get it?" At MJ's nod, she continued. "Be careful when you order the juice, okay? Kate doesn't like the kind that's bottled in the US, but that's what they'll send over if you don't specifically ask for the other."

MJ nodded again.

"You seem very chipper this morning," Meredith mentioned. "What happened, you find extra donuts in your mini fridge or something?"

MJ just shook her head.

"I won't be needing you until this evening, so you can go, Moose Jugs."

🏜🌴🏜🌴🏜🌴🏜🌴🏜🌴🏜

Something was wrong.

The last two days had passed in a state of pure, unadulterated bliss for MJ, and nothing, not even Meredith's name-calling and petulance could touch her. Even though Heath was out and about in Abu Dhabi with Meredith, shopping and getting his picture taken, he would still send MJ random texts and pictures, little romantic notes, the likes of which she had never seen before, and she spent her time in a state of euphoria, feeling like she was floating a few inches off the ground. It didn't matter to her that she hadn't seen him at all, or that he had spent his time with someone she detested, or that the internet was full of pictures of them together, seemingly having a romantic time.

Right in the middle of MJ working on some music, picking out a melody on her guitar, Heath would send her a text saying,

You smelled lovely the other night.

or

It was wonderful to fall asleep next to you.

or he'd send her a picture of himself doing something silly with a colorful scarf at a market stall.

But now, today, Meredith was doing her sound check, and something was wrong. MJ was sitting in the arena, waiting for Heath, and she could see that the crew was acting strange.

Just as she was rising to go see what was going on, Heath came breezing over and sat down next to her, gently tugging her hair in greeting, giving her a smile that lit up his whole face.

"Hey, Ms. Javelin-McGillicuddy," he greeted her in a terrible and terribly funny Irish accent.

"Hi, Mr. Spencer," she replied, sitting back down. "You notice I remember your last name," she said.

"My last name's nice and normal, two syllables, English," he replied loftily, laughing.

By now people were gathering onstage, and Meredith had stopped singing, and was looking around.

"What's going on?" MJ asked, gesturing toward the stage.

"That's nice," Heath commented. "We have what I consider to be a lovely evening together, although we might have been ever so slightly inebriated, I grant you, and when we see each other for the first time in three days, you can't even give me you attention for thirty full seconds-"

Heath's phone began to ping, non-stop, in his pocket, as the people onstage began calling his name.

"Heath?"

"Heath? Mate? Where are you?"

They were shading their eyes and looking out into the arena as Heath pulled out his phone and rose. Next to him, MJ, too, rose.

"Yeah?" he responded as he pulled out his phone. "What? What's going on?"

He read his phone as he began walking toward the stage.

He stopped walking as he read the first message.

"Oh no."

MJ, too, stopped.

"Heath? What? What is it?"

He turned to look at her, dark blue eyes agonized.

"I just got a text from my mum saying Nigel's been in a car accident. On his way to the airport."

MJ's brows drew together.

"Oh Heath--"

"He's dead, MJ. He died."

MJ put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so, so sorry, Heath."

He pulled her into a hug, releasing her after a moment.

"I have to find Sally," he said.

MJ nodded, and watched him go.

On stage, Meredith was crying.

"I can't believe this," she was saying. "He was so amazing and alive. I just talked to him a few months ago. My god."

MJ sat down in the front row and began scrolling through her phone. In this day and age, of course it was all over the internet. There were even photos of the crash site already.

It was awful. At the time that Heath was expecting Nigel to be arriving in Abu Dhabi, he'd already been dead for hours. How terrible, MJ thought.

The car he was in was hit broadside by another car that just didn't see it, and was going excessively fast.

The car was destroyed. MJ could hardly recognize the wreckage as a car. She didn't see how anyone could survive such an accident.

Apparently the roof had been pried from the car, and Nigel had been whisked off to a hospital, but he'd sustained substantial internal injuries, and he didn't survive. He was pronounced dead at the hospital.

Nigel Cunningham was just twenty-four years old. He was survived by his parents and older brother.

Meredith's friends arrived, in tears, and Meredith wandered off with them to cry.

Both Heath and Meredith would have to take the stage in mere hours to entertain thousands of screaming fans. How in the world would they be able to manage this? MJ wondered.

MJ went backstage, to her usual place in the big room with the snacks, knowing Heath would find her if he needed her. The atmosphere was somber and gloomy, but show time rolled around and Meredith took the stage right on time.

MJ heard her sad acknowledgment of Nigel's death, and heard her dedicate tonight's performance to him. MJ wondered in passing where Meredith's friends Donna and Kate were.

MJ hadn't realized Meredith had been that close to Nigel.

When Meredith's show was about half over Heath found MJ, his features twisted with grief, eyes wet. They were alone in the room.

"MJ," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm leaving tonight, after the show, to go to his funeral. I'm chartering a plane."

"They've already scheduled his funeral?" MJ asked in surprise.

Heath nodded. "His family has a private cemetery on their property in Kent. There's no waiting or anything, there's a vicarage and all that.

"What about your casbah field trip or whatever?" MJ asked, feeling foolish. It seemed idiotic to ask about it.

Heath shook his head impatiently. "I'm not doing that. I have to go. I have to.

"I want you to go with me, MJ," he continued, getting back to the issue at hand. "Will you come with me? Please? I need you to come, so will you?"

MJ looked at him, at his wet, miserable eyes.

"I have to ask Meredith," she said hesitantly. "And what about all my stuff?"

"You need to pack everything and leave it in your room, and bring what you need for a few days with you," Heath instructed. "Someone will bring all your other things."

Heath sniffed, and wiped his eyes. "Jesus, I can't believe this happened." He shook his head. "I just talked to him fucking yesterday, MJ," he said. "And I have to go onstage in just a few hours and fucking perform--" his voice broke, and he lowered his head.

MJ pulled him in to her body, and held him.

"Shh, shh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she soothed.

Heath tucked his face into her neck and took comfort from her.

He finally lifted his head.

"Do you think it will go better if I ask her?" he asked.

MJ shook her head. "She won't like it, either way."

Onstage, Meredith was doing her encore. It was almost time for Heath. He squeezed her hand and took off, after asking her to watch from off stage.

She nodded.

Heath, too, spoke about Nigel at the top of his show, and dedicated the performance to his friend. There were many wet eyes in the audience. Meredith and her friends, the dark-haired Kate, and the blonde Donna, joined MJ in the wings and watched Heath, who put on an amazing show, as usual.

"He's definitely not as happy as usual," Donna said.

"What do you expect?" Meredith said.

At the end of the show, Heath sang, "Boys' Town," a song made famous by The Jacks.

"This is a tune that Nigel and I wrote together one evening, over a lot of Guinness," Heath told the crowd. "We'd even talked about singing it together tonight if he was feeling up to it." Heath looked up and pointed, smiling. "This one's for you, you smiling drinking man."

He was fine until right at the end, when his voice broke, and he couldn't go on singing. He looked off stage, right at MJ, who didn't know what to do, and couldn't help him.

Meredith immediately walked on stage, grabbed the guitarist's mike, and took over the vocals. She put an arm around Heath, who immediately put an arm back around her, and was able to join back in on the vocals.

Meredith smiled at Heath, and they managed to finish the song together.

They took a bow and walked offstage to tumultuous applause, arm in arm.

"Thank you," Heath murmured to Meredith as soon as they were offstage.

Meredith smiled radiantly at him, eyes sparkling.

"That was amazing, wasn't it?"

But Heath was crying, and couldn't answer. He released her immediately and left.

MJ was hovering, wanting to talk to her, to ask what she needed to ask her, but so was Sally, and obviously, whatever Sally had to say was more important.

Meredith was walking back to her dressing room with Dona, Kate, Sally, Meredith, and a few other people following in her wake. Heath, the one person she wanted to talk to, was nowhere to be found.

"Meredith, I need to speak with you, right now please," Sally was saying.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, can I just enjoy a good performance for two seconds before everyone under the sun starts bugging me? Jesus," Meredith complained.

Everyone finally got to her dressing room, and Meredith got herself a mineral water from her mini fridge. Her friends also helped themselves, with Kate cracking open one of the special juices MJ had obtained for her.

"Meredith, please," Sally continued.

"Meredith, I need to talk to you," MJ added.

"Sally, okay, okay," Meredith finally acquiesced. "Moose Jugs, shut up for a minute, please!"

"There's been a change in plans for the next few days," Sally began.

"Well, obviously, Nigel's fucking dead, he can't be riding a camel with us in deserts of the UAE, can he?" Meredith asked sarcastically, taking a swig of her water. "You followed me back here to tell me that?"

Sally took a deep breath, as if asking for patience. "No, dear. I followed you back here to tell you that no camel riding of any kind will be happening. "Heath will be going to England to attend Nigel Cunningham's funeral."

Meredith sat up straighter, setting her water bottle down. "What? What about the magazine article? The photo spread?"

Sally shook her head. "We had to cancel that, I'm afraid."

But Meredith was shaking her head. "No, wait, this is even better!" She put her hand on Sally's arm. "Summer in England. I'll be dressed in sleeveless black. We'll be somber and serious, in the countryside, at a pretty cemetery. Can't you see it?"

Sally was looking at Meredith in horror. "Are you suggesting that you attend the Cunningham boy's service with Heath as a photo op?"

Meredith was nodding at Sally. "You don't have to put it so bluntly, but yeah, why not? It's perfect. It's intimate and beautiful and serious and perfect, oh my god."

She turned to her friends.

"You guys can entertain yourselves here for three days, right? Shopping and clubs, on me?"

Blonde and brown hair bounced as they nodded enthusiastically.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

Heath's voice came from the doorway of Meredith's dressing room.

"Heath!" Meredith had the good grace to sound a little embarrassed. "Why not? You need someone to be with you, darling."

"I'd rather be alone than be with you," Heath said bluntly. He turned and stepped out of her dressing room.

Meredith took another drink from her water bottle, eyes narrowed.

The silence spun out.

"Meredith?" MJ's voice was quiet.

"Moose Jugs." Meredith's voice had an edge like a knife blade. "Do not talk to me right now. Do not talk to me for the rest of the night." She turned to look at MJ, who stood, paralyzed, next to the door. "In fact, if you want to keep your job, don't talk to me for the rest of the time we're in Abu Dhabi. I'm going to be busy with my friends." She slid down off her chair like she was going to attack MJ. Sally, and even her friends, stared at her in alarm. "If you want a job to come back to, don't even talk to me until we land in Rome."

She took a few steps toward MJ.

"Is that clear?"

MJ nodded, turned, and fled.

She'd taken only a few steps when someone grabbed her arm. She turned, terrified, to see Heath looking at her.

"Let's go to the hotel and pack your things, yeah?"

MJ looked at him, and nodded.

They turned and left the arena together.