He would always say that she was “art”. He wasn’t even exactly sure what “art” was. Everyone’s definition was different, but she was just as difficult to define. He simply started defining them in conjunction with one another.
What is art? “Athena.”
What is Athena? “Art.”
The day he met her had been the day he snapped. His creativity seemed to have run dry. He hadn’t written a note in weeks. He hadn’t written a word in longer than that. After slamming the keys of his baby grand in frustration, creating the most god-awful dissonant sound he’d ever heard, JC Chasez left his Orlando home with nothing but his wallet, car keys, and the clothes on his back.
He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t call any number of people who’d be worried about him. He just left. He didn’t know where he was going when he got in his car but there was something wrong in his life, his surroundings were suffocating. It was like trying to breath in a vacuum. He needed a change of scenery, something to snap him out of the funk he was drowning in. 15 hours later, he found himself in Paris, wandering around the Louvre. Museums were never his idea of fun but he was desperate and art was supposed to ‘inspire’.
He wandered around for hours, examining and mentally discarding everything from the Venus de Milo to the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Turning a corner, he came face to face with the Mona Lisa. He studied it for a while, trying to get what the big deal was. Fed up, was what he was getting. “God damn it, inspire me, you stupid piece of sh—” He stopped mid-expletive, hearing the tinkling sound of laughter next to him.
He looked up and saw her. She smiled a smile similar to that of the one he’d been staring at for the past ten minutes and he found himself annoyed. He looked away from her, grumbling, “I’m do glad you’re amused. Do you happen to know what it is this woman’s smile is supposed to do for me?” He kept his eyes on the painting for a moment before noticing she hadn’t made a sound. He’d assumed she spoke English since she laughed at his remark but now he wasn’t so sure.
“Parlez-vous anglais?” he questioned turning back to her.
She still just looked at him, smiling the same smile the Mona Lisa was taunting him with. Looking at her, he thought for a moment that he was maybe starting to understand the draw of such a smile. But it was only a moment before he began to get annoyed again. “What are you, deaf?”
“Yes,” he heard a voice say from behind him. He turned to see an identical face to the one he’d just turned from. “Yes she is deaf. But she can read lips so as long as she can see your mouth moving and you’re speaking clearly, she can understand. She just likes to play with the tourists.”
The young woman in front of him made gestures with her hands as she spoke, presumably sign language so her sister would know what was going on. He also noticed that her accent was American.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” JC said turning back to his first companion, noting the differences between the two. This one had long hair down her back while the other’s was only shoulder length and styled more. Not that it would be hard to tell between the deaf one and the not deaf one.
She smiled, fully this time, raising her hand in greeting.
“This is Athena,” the other woman introduced. “And I’m Persephone.” JC raised and eyebrow at her introduction. “Our mother is a professor at the Sorbonne; Greek and Roman Mythology. Go figure.”
JC let out a chuckle in spite of himself. “Nice to meet you,” he smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. Athena smiled back and gestured a response with her delicate hands. He looked to her sister.
“She says, ‘Same here’,” Persephone answered. “I second that,” she added with a crooked smile, “if you care.” It wasn’t hard to see who was stealing the attention.
“Sorry,” he smiled, this time at Persephone. “It is, of course, nice to meet you as well.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she smirked as he turned his attention back to Athena.
“I’m Josh.” That damn smile, he thought. He couldn’t put his finger on it but as he studied that infuriating smile, it was almost as if his mind was chasing something. There was a nagging in the back of his brain that he didn’t know how to satiate. Athena. He could almost recognize the prodding from the depths of his subconscious. It was almost like music.
“You ready to go kid?” Persephone directed to her sister.
Athena nodded and JC panicked. There was something about her and before he could figure it out she was going to leave and he’d never see her again.
“I was just about to leave,” he said, a bit too quickly for his own comfort. “Uh, can I walk you out?”
He left the museum with the two girls that day and ended up spending the next two weeks in their company. He’d made the appropriate calls to his friends and family so they wouldn’t panic. He wasn’t about to tear himself away from this girl any time soon.
Persephone was more of a chaperone than anything else. She was clearly protective of her sister and was careful to make sure she wasn’t taken advantage of. However, seeing her interact with this man was like nothing she’d ever seen before. Never in her life had Athena taken to someone new like this. She was normally self-conscious and withdrawn. While Athena always insisted she wouldn’t change the way she is for anything, she was still frustrated with people who she couldn’t communicate with as well as people who knew her well, her family and a few select people she termed friends. Persephone was taken aback at how comfortable she was with Josh. They needed very little help communicating. It was actually kind of spooky, the way he seemed to pick up on her body language and facial expressions, using them more than he did Persephone’s translations of her sign language.
That first day, after they walked JC back to his hotel (“Snazzy,” Persephone had remarked) and went home, JC felt a loss. There was a tightness in his chest and an emptiness swept over him. When he checked in, he’d cursed the baby grand he’d found in his suite, but he ended up spending the night with it. He filled the emptiness the way he always had, the only way he knew how; with music. Nothing coherent came of it but he found himself enjoying the feel of the keys under his fingers again. That meant the world to him. In the morning he had to restrain himself from calling their house until a decent hour. Athena.
The more he spent time with her, the less he needed Persephone to translate. He managed to pick up some basic gestures but it was Athena’s mannerisms that were like a language in and of themselves. Her body language was fast becoming his second language. By the end of the two week span he’s spent with them, he’d convinced big sister, (“By four minutes.”) to let him take Athena out; just the two of them.
Her very presence was singing a song to him. Every night when he left her, he tried to commit it to paper, to make it flow from the piano the way it flowed from her. But it would never be right. Without her there, it was like trying to remember a dream he’d jut waking up from; the basic idea was there, but the essence escaped him.
She took him to her favorite café in an out-of-the-way corner of Paris. They sat, and drank, and talked for hours, spending the whole afternoon into the early night feeling very content in each other’s presence. While it was somewhat difficult for her to communicate back at first, they managed to do well with universal gestures, the basic sign language she’d taught him over those couple weeks, and scribbling on cocktail napkins. By this time they’d already learned how to read each other fairly well. Right before they left a flower vendor wandered past their table bearing bunches of tea roses. He noticed her face subtly light up and he could tell they were her favorite. JC stopped the vendor and bought the whole basket.
Afterward, they went back to his hotel and watched old movies all night. JC muted the sound and they both watched with subtitles, a gesture that touched Athena greatly.
Hours later, Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds had sung and danced in the rain, Debra Kerr had revealed her terrible secret to Carey Grant, Humphrey Bogart had met Audrey Hepburn in Paris, and Athena Eagleton and JC Chasez had fallen asleep beside each other. Athena was the first to stir, her eyes fluttering open, oblivious to her surroundings. The realization came as her head lolled to the right and she caught site of Josh, fast asleep. A slow smile tugged at her lips as her eyes ran over his face. He looked so innocent, even child-like. She allowed her attention to linger on his peaceful face for a few moments longer before another realization hit her. Persephone would have her head when she got home.
She snaked out of the king sized bed they’d occupied all night, not wanting to wake him. After leaving the bedroom, she looked around the rest of the suit for something to write on. She spied a marble notebook on the coffee table with a pen, conveniently, beside it. She sat gingerly on the sofa and leaning down to flip to the back of the pad and tear out a sheet of paper. As she flipped she couldn’t help but notice the writings. They were poems, she assumed… or lyrics, more likely in his case. She noticed the dates on the top of each page as she flipped past, noting that they suddenly leaped from over a month ago to the day they’d met. She didn’t dare read them; she didn’t want to invade his privacy. She finally came upon a blank sheet, scribbled an apology, and tore it out. Moving to close the pad, her eyes snagged on the words on the opposite page.
In an unknown place deep down inside,
I want to run, I want to hide,
I want to cry, I want to scream,
I want to wake up from this deceiving dream,
I want to be swallowed by a dark and swirling sea,
I want to be happy, I want to be free,
I don't know what I want,
I just wanna be,
A message or a letter, proclaiming someone's love,
A dove or an eagle looking down from above,
I want to smile up at the bright sky,
I want true love but, I don't know why,
I want arms embracing me when I fall,
To be hugged and cared for like a child's first doll,
I want to be happy, I want to be free,
I don't know what I want, I just wanna be,
A rose or a tulip, blooming in the sun,
A diamond or a pearl, precious to everyone,
I want to make a big castle, deep in the sand,
I want someone to be there holding my hand,
I want to be warm, and never again feel cold,
I want to live my life without having to be told,
I want to be happy, I want to be free,
I don't know what I want, I just want... to be me.
He stood in the door frame of the bedroom, watching her. His immediate reaction when he saw her reading his book had been anger. Who did she think she was? But as he thought about it more, his anger fizzled. If it weren’t for her, nothing would have been written in that book past his last effort six weeks before. Besides that, he’d been there long enough to see that she’d only been looking for a piece of paper to write him a note on. The best part, though, was what he could see in the silhouette of her face as she read. She was enthralled and it was by something he’d written. He could have sworn, even by the dim light of the single lamp that lit the room, he saw a tear stream down the creamy skin of her cheek.
He didn’t say a word. He never made his presence known that night and concealed himself in his room until he heard the door click shut. Then he ventured back into the living room, sat down at the piano, and went to work.
The next night he asked her over again. It was his last night before he had to return States-side and he had something he wanted her to “hear”. It was hell getting Persephone to agree. He felt like a sixteen-year-old asking permission from his crush’s father for a date every time he talked to her. However, he also got the feeling that Persephone understood on some level what he and Athena had been building over the past few weeks. At that point, it was almost as if she was putting on her over-protective show for good measure. He’d earned her trust, which he knew was extremely important to Athena.
There was a knock at the door and he strode purposefully toward it, not being able to wait and other second to see her, to drink in her soul-stirring presence. The door flew open revealing a stunning Athena… and Persephone. His heart sank a bit and both girls laughed at his expression.
“Don’t worry, lover boy, I just wanted to make sure she got up ok,” Persephone said, ignoring her sister rolling eyes. “Oh, and to see that look on your face, Mr. Chasez. It’s priceless, really.”
“I’m so glad you think so,” he smirked.
“Now,” she continued turning to Athena. “You’re going to call me this time when you’re ready to come home, right? None of this ‘cab’ shit like last night,” she signed.
::I’m not a child. You are four minutes older than me. Give me a break, please:: Athena signed back.
“I’ll give you a break,” she mumbled. “Behave you two,” she said forebodingly as she turned and made her way back to the elevators.
“Bye,” JC called after. He smiled at Athena and took her hand, leading her inside. “So, you’re probably wondering just what we’re going to be doing tonight, huh?” he smiled, reading her mind.
She nodded, looking at him expectantly. “C’mere,” he said leading her to the piano, hands still joined. He took her hands and placed them on top of the piano, telling her to keep them there. She smiled, realizing he had something planned especially for her. He sat down at the bench, reveling in the feel of her eyes focused on him. He started to play and she understood why he wanted her to keep her hands on the top of the piano. She could feel each vibration, creating a rhythm. He knew how to make her “hear” his music. It was beautiful. Then he began to sing. She’d always felt that being deaf was more of a gift than a handicap, allowing her to see a different perspective on life that most other people never got to see. She never allowed herself to wish she could hear… until that moment. She almost ached to experience the sounds that were passing between his lips. But she could read his words clearly and understand his tone through his passion-ridden face.
I never sang my songs
On the stage, on my own
I never said my words
Wishing they would be heard
I saw you smiling at me
Was it real or just my fantasy
You'd always be there in the corner
Of my eye, a work of art.
My last night here with you
Same old songs, just once more
My last night here with you?
Maybe yes, maybe no
I kind of liked it your way
How you placed your eyes on me
Did you ever know?
That I had mine on you
Baby, so there you are
With that smile on your face
As if you're never beat
As if you're always strong
Shall you be the one for me
Who pinches me softly but sure
If a frown is shown then
You’ll will know that I’m no dreamer
The tears came then. She couldn’t hold them back as his song, the song he’d written to her, the song he was singing to her, transcended her ears and struck her heart with such force she wasn’t sure she could take any more. She fought to keep her eyes open, to keep them focused on him. She was hearing for the first time.
So let me come to you
Close as I wanted to be
Close enough for me
To feel your heart beating fast
And stay there as I whisper
How I loved your peaceful eyes on me
Did you ever know
That I had mine on you
Baby, so share with me
Your love if you have enough
Your tears if you're holding back
Or pain if that's what it is
How can I let you know
I'm more than the image and the voice
Just reach out to me then
You will know that you're not dreaming
Baby, so there you are
With that smile on your face
As if you're never beat
As if you're always strong
Shall you be the one for me
Who pinches me softly but sure
If a frown is shown then
You’ll will know that I’m no dreamer
He opened his eyes as he played the final tinkling notes of his song. My song. he thought. Her song. For the first time since he began, he dared to look up at her. His heart caught in his throat as his eyes locked with her intense gaze. Her green orbs were flooded and her lips were trembling. She never looked more beautiful and he never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he did at that moment.
::That was beautiful:: she signed. He didn’t take his eyes off hers but they told him what her delicate hands were trying to just as, if not more, effectively. He leaned up and took her hands, still flat against the ebony piano top, in his own and tugged her to his side on the bench.
”You gave this back to me,” he said, laying her right hand on the keys, and placing her left over his heart. He moved his hands up to her face, pushing her hair behind either ear. His hands lingered there, not wanted to lose the feel of her skin against his. “I came here looking for something. I’d lost whatever I had. I wandered around that damn museum looking to be inspired. It wasn’t until I saw the work of art that’s sitting next to me right now that I got it.”
Her entire body shuddered as his hands slid down, one delving into her hair, the other cradling her neck. He leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against hers as if waiting for permission. Their eyes still locked, he searched them looking for something to tell him it was ok.
She had no clue how to tell him what she wanted and it had nothing to do with her not being able to verbalize it. This was completely new for her. All she knew is that she wanted him to do something to stop the aching she was feeling as his lips barely touched her own. Please, her body screamed, not knowing what she was requesting but knowing that only Josh could help.
There it was. Her eyes seared him with yearning. He got what he was looking for and immediately deepened the kiss, sending them both into a tailspin of sensations neither had experienced before. His hands moved down, snaking around to her back, pulling her flush against him. What was is about her? He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her lips, the feel of her hands caressing him, and he sure as hell couldn’t get close enough to her.
She felt as if she’d fall off the edge and her hands grasped at his shirt trying to anchor herself to him. Every nerve ending screamed as if they’d never been truly used before. She’d read about kisses that stopped the earth from spinning, that caused everything else to go hazy, that made the whole universe disappear save only two people. They were nothing compared to what she experienced that night.
The next day, JC very reluctantly got on a plane and flew home. Home. Somehow, after experiencing what he had the night before, no place could seem like home where Athena wasn’t. But he had responsibilities in Orlando. He was one-fifth of *Nsync. He had too many other people to think about besides himself. And she had responsibilities in Paris. She wrote a very popular Fashion column for Elle Paris Magazine. She and Persephone hadn’t been apart for more than a week their entire lives.
JC and Athena wrote each other constantly. JC lived to hear from her. Her handwriting was almost therapeutic for his aching heart. He spent almost all of his free time learning sign language, confident that they’d find a way to work around both their lives and he’d have the opportunity to use it soon. Almost two months after that night in his hotel, JC sat in the studio trying to find the same passion to sing their song as he had that night. While he hadn’t lost the gift she’d given him, he couldn’t find it in himself to sing their song the way it begged to be sung.
“Jace,” a voice intruded on his reverie. He looked up to see Justin striding into the room, his trademark grin plastered on his face. “What are you up to? I thought we weren’t supposed to be here ‘till 3.”
“We weren’t, I just figured I’d come in and try to work on this,” he replied studying the young man’s face, suspiciously. “What’s the shit-eating grin for?”
“Well I have something that might help you out with your problem,” Justin kept on smiling, motioning to the music propped up on the piano with one hand, the other kept behind his back.
“Unless you have Athena behind your back, I don’t think its gonna help,” he sighed, running a hand warily over his face.
“Next best thing, my friend,” he countered producing a blue envelope from its not-so-hidden hiding place.
JC’s eyes widened and he immediately snatched it from his companion’s hand. He tore open the envelope quickly and removed the matching stationary, anxious to drink in every word.
“Jesus, C, I think you gave me a paper cut,” Justin smirked.
JC mumbled a half-hearted apology as he unfolded Athena’s letter. His eyes widened as his eyes scanned the single sheet of paper. There was only one word, scrolled in her distinctive cursive lines.
Surprise.
He looked up to see Justin still grinning at him, his shocked expression demanding an explanation. “So as I was saying, I think you gave me damn paper cut, man,” Justin teased, examining his index finger. “What do you think?” He extended his finger to JC, desperately trying to quell his laughter that was bubbling up inside him.
JC grabbed is finger and stood up, looking like he might flip if he didn’t get some answers soon. “OW!” Justin whined, pulling back from JC.
“Where is she?”
“Man, you should see you’re face right now cus its kinda scary—”
“Justin, I swear to God…”
“Ok, ok,” Justin said backing up from his impatient friend. He continued to back up until his back hit the door. He grinned again before pulling the door open revealing…
“What the hell?” JC exclaimed. Chris and Joey stood on the other side of the door both grinning like Cheshire cats. “I’m losing patience, here,” JC cautioned.
“Losing?” Justin mumbled before shying away from the daggers JC shot him with his eyes.
Chris and Joey both stepped aside, revealing…
“If that isn’t Athena in a Lance costume, I’m gonna start kicking some ass.”
“Down, space cowboy,” Lance snickered. He reached to the side where JC couldn’t see and with one hand pulled in font of him the sight JC had been aching for, for months.
They just stared at each other for a moment which gave the guys time to pull a proper disappearing act. “What are you doing here?” JC said finally finding his voice, as if it mattered. Athena smiled, noticing he was signing.
::You learned?::
::I figured it might be a good idea:: he smiled sheepishly.
“So you didn’t answer my question,” he continued, neither of them having moved yet.
::I hear they have magazines in the U.S. too::
From that point on JC and Athena were rarely apart. He never had a problem finding his passion again. Being around Athena was like mainlining some kind of inspiration drug; her expressive gait, her intriguing laugh, her fifteen thousand varieties of smiles, the way she looked at the world like every little mundane thing was full of possibilities, the way she taught him about life through her very innocence of it, the way her eyes spoke things words could never say, the way she sat with him while he wrote as though she could hear him play.
She would sit beside him at the piano, watching his fingers glide over the keys, studying his face as he sang. Every once in a while he glanced at her. She looked as though she were truly touched by the very sounds she couldn’t hear. When he asked she’d tell him that she could hear it in her own way- the rhythm his fingers moved in, the expressions that swept over his face, even the way his Adam’s apple bounced up and down.
At night they’d lie in bed, her hands splayed across his chest and the base of his throat and he’d sing to her. She could feel the reverberations in his chest and they’d sooth her to sleep. Every night while she did this, he’d pray for a miracle; for God to grant her the one sense He’d denied her at birth. He ached for her to be able to experience music the way he did. But it was a selfish prayer. He knew that what he thought of as a handicap, she though of as a blessing- a part of her soul. She’d tell him it gave her a perspective unique to everyone else’s. That it gave her a clarity that could only be tainted were she suddenly granted her hearing.
For the longest time he felt sorry for her. She insisted that she wasn’t missing out, that she was well compensated. She didn’t know how to make him understand. In time, though, he did. She taught him so much; it was impossible for him not to fall in love with her. He didn’t want to resist even if were possible. He’d fallen into her and was in no hurry to leave.
Today, fifty years later he sits beside her still, singing to her. He’ll bring tea roses and sing their song, the words of which are engraved on the stone. They were one of the lucky ones. They met by fate and held on by will. They taught each other. They inspired each other. They loved as much as human beings can and they did it forever.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The poem "I Want" is by Ashley J. Muldoon
The Lyrics to JC's song are a variation on the song "My Eyes on You" sung by Faye Wong...
Personally I really don't like the song but the lyrics are nice and they fit... I did edit them a bit for the sake of the story.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
