Chapter Ten
Wednesday Night, Los Angeles
Chapter Ten
Wednesday Night, Los Angeles
Regan inhaled deeply, stretching her muscles as far as she could. Her lithe body ached for release as she held the stretch; attempting to extract every ounce of resilience she could from the muscles she’d grown wary of trusting. If she learned one thing about her body in the past weeks, it was that it wasn’t invincible. While that might have seemed common sense, it still needed to be demonstrated in order to hit home. If one set of muscles could give out on her, any of them could. She tried not to think about it, but the more she thought about what Camille had just told her, the more scared she became.
“I don’t want to make you nervous but Jeremy will be in the audience tonight.” Jeremy, as in Jeremy Boland, the director of the American Ballet Theater. This performance could very well be the one. The one that made her dreams come true. Camille told her she’d probably have to wait until the end of the year to be called up to the professional troupe but Regan knew somehow that this would be the one to make or break her. Break her. As much as this could be the performance to make her dreams come true, this could very well be the one to screw her over.
She’d had two perfect performances in San Francisco but there was always that mocking voice in the back of her head telling her that she was a fool for trusting Aaron Boland with her health and that at any time her body could just give up on her. She once thought that she knew her body and, as ridiculous as it sounded to even her, had an understanding with it. As long as she took care of it- worked it gracefully, made it move the way the music wanted it to- it would take care of her. Now it was abundantly clear that the way she pushed it, dangled it on the edge of what it could do physically, made it revolt against her. The worst part was that it could claim mutiny very easily on stage in front of the one man who said who stays, who goes, and who moves on to ABT.
Then there was the part of her head that wanted to believe that she was going to be ok; that Dr. Boland was going to take care of her and his brother, Jeremy, would see that Regan Costelloe was exactly what the American Ballet Theater needed. She respected Jeremy Boland and she tried desperately to get past her issues with doctors and see that if Jeremy believed in his brother’s abilities and integrity as doctor, then she should as well. But it was difficult. It was such a large step on her part just to allow him to touch her, never mind insert a needle into her. It was a step made in desperation but a step nonetheless. It was one thing to admonish that you need help. It was quite another to stop the involuntary skin-crawling feeling she got every time he or Kyle Baxter laid a hand on her.
That was another problem. While doctors gave her the creeps, she’d worked with several physical therapists in the course of her career. Kyle Baxter was the first to make her uneasy. She didn’t get it. It made it that much more disturbing to her that this could be a personal thing she had with the two men. It could very well be that it wasn’t her fear of doctors that was giving her the skeeves in the situation she found herself in- Aaron Boland ‘the person’ and not ‘the doctor’. If that was the case, it only made her more afraid. While she lacked Justin’s striking-to-the-point-of-disturbing accuracy, she had a subtle intuition when it came to people- the way she knew Justin would relate to Swann’s Way when she’d only just met him, the way she knew Bridget was holding back something about her and JC just by watching them innocently interact with each other. If her apprehension of Dr. Boland and Kyle wasn’t just a reflection of an unreasonable phobia, then there could be something seriously wrong.
Regan stood slowly, continuing to stretch out every muscle she could from the simple action and moved to the backstage area where she could stretch her legs out on the metal banister of the steps leading to the upstairs chorus dressing room. She looked like she been through a war. All the thoughts playing in her mind gave her face a worn look and no matter how graceful her movements were, they were weighted down with the all pressures and uncertainties sitting on her shoulders.
“Looks like I got here just in time, huh kiddo?”
Regan whirled around at the voice, practically leaping into its owner’s arms before she even saw his face. “In time for what?” she breathed into his chest.
“You seem to need somebody to lean on right now,” he whispered into her hair. “No offense but you like hell.”
“Hey,” she laughed pulling away from him, smacking his shoulder. “Are Bridget and Mae here too?”
“Yeah, they had a rough flight,” Mike nodded. “They’re back at the hotel but they’ll be here tonight.”
“My hotel?”
“What kind of fun would this trip have been if I couldn’t torment you both day and night?”
“You’re funny,” Regan smirked dryly. “But I’m glad you guys are here. I really need some moral support.” She leaned back in to hug her brother tightly to her again.
"Well, don’t get too attached. Bridget took the last of her sick days so we could see you perform tonight but we have to fly back tomorrow afternoon. Plus I can leave the restaurant in Carlo’s mediocre hands for only so long,” he said with chuckle.
“I need you most tonight, anyway,” Regan said. “Jeremy’s going to be in the audience and I’m working myself up so much with all the crazy thoughts and doubts floating through my head that I know I’m going to tank if I don’t calm down.” Regan released Mike from her needy grip when she heard another familiar voice behind her.
“See, I tried to get the earliest possible flight out because I just knew that if didn’t hurry my ass out here, you’d fall into another man’s arms.”
Regan laughed at the smile in Jack’s distinctive voice. She turned around with a mischievous grin, ignoring Mike’s groan at Jack’s corny opener. He’d yet to meet Jack since Regan and Justin’s hospital escapade two weeks before, and wasn’t overly thrilled that he was there. Mike didn’t want anything else adding pressure to Regan’s situation and he knew there was nothing that could do that as effectively as a budding romance and/or persistent suitor.
“Well, your going have to put up with this one because I’d choose him over anyone else,” Regan laughed. “Jack, this is my brother Mike. Mike, this is Jack Salinger. You met at the hospital that night but it was kinda crazy so…”
The two men shook hands, Mike meeting Jack’s pleasant smile with a less convincing nod. The trio stood in awkward silence for a moment, Regan looking between Jack and her brother who seemed to be having an unspoken conversation. Knowing the effectiveness of Mike’s icy stare, Regan knew it was entirely possible that that was the case.
“So…” she started tentatively. “How about them Yankees? See the game today?”
“So Jack,” Mike started— ignoring Regan and keeping the young man in front of him locked in a stare, “what brings you to L.A.?”
“Mike…” Regan groaned, rolling her eyes.
“I just came to see Regan. We were talking earlier an she said she wished I could be here, so here I am,” Jack explained, his tone suggesting he was attempting to not only prove he wasn’t intimidated but also trying to intimidate. A bold but stupid move with Mike Costelloe.
“Fascinating,” Mike said, clearly expressing his disinterest. “Regan said you were in school. Class is still in session, is it not?”
“Yeah, but there’s not much going on this week. Nothing I can’t make up at least.”
“Interesting attitude for a potential doctor.”
“Boys, you can get a measuring stick out later,” Regan said stepping between them. “I need to rehearse so why don’t you two go back to the hotel and I’ll see you tonight?”
“You sure, sweetie?” Jack asked looking down at Regan as Mike rolled his eyes at the endearment.
“Way sure, buddy,” she smirked giving him a pat on the back. She gave each a quick kiss on the cheek and then steered them toward the exit.
“Whoa, me too?” Mike said in disbelief.
“You, too,” Regan confirmed as she shoved them both out the door. “Buh bye.”
The stage door slammed shut and she ran her hands through her hair warily. “Oh this is really going to be… something.”
“Talking to yourself, again?” Judy said descending the stairs Regan had been stretching against.
“I seem to be the most sane person available to have a discussion with so it’s kind of unavoidable,” Regan sighed.
“Camille wants us on stage, so finish up your conversation and let’s go.”
I can’t not go. I already told her I was going. Justin stared blankly into the bathroom mirror silently mulling over the day’s events. I can’t believe I let this happen. I’m just setting myself up to get hurt. If she doesn’t hurt me, I’ll most definitely hurt her- there’s no way around it. I am an idiot.
His face was half covered in shaving cream and a razor practically dangled in his right hand as he leaned over the sink staring into his own vacant expression. This is retarded. Why would I tell her now and ruin what we have? She already has Joe College- someone that can be there for her all the time, someone who’ll be in the same time zone as her more often than not. Why would she choose me if I asked her to? I wouldn’t choose me, for Christ’s sake.
“There’s the look that worries me,” a voice said from the doorway, tearing Justin from his introspection.
“What’s up, C?” he said casually returning to his shaving.
“You tell me,” JC returned knowingly. “You have the look of someone who—”
“Who what?” Justin snapped turning to face his friend fully.
“Who needs a slight attitude adjustment, apparently,” JC finished ominously before shutting the door behind him.
“Shit,” Justin spat throwing the razor into the sink and grabbing a towel off the shelf and wiping the excess shaving cream off his face. “JC?” he called pulling the door open only to see JC sitting comfortably on Justin’s bed, arms folded with a wicked grin on his face.
“You rang?”
“You’re really something, you know that?” Justin laughed as he sank into an armchair off the foot of the bed, promptly placing his head in his hands. “I’m sorry I snapped at you but I have a lot on my mind.”
“It’s cool, buddy,” JC nodded. “You know, you can actually talk to us when you have something on your mind, right?”
“I know. It’s just tough when I can’t exactly put into words I can understand let alone someone else.”
“Lemme guess. Regan?”
“Regan,” Justin confirmed with a sigh. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”
“Since you pushed her out of that cab’s way, my friend,” JC laughed. “There are certain things that are easier to see from a distance. Unfortunately, love is one of them.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Justin said straightening in his seat. “Who said anything about love?”
“I didn’t say you were in love with her,” JC said calmly. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I know,” Justin admonished, running his hands through his still-damp curls. “So what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I can’t tell you what you should do, Curly. I’d like to say I’d tell her if I were you, but it’s easier said than done.”
“Tell me about it,” Justin nodded. “I was all ready to do it before Regan’s roommate came in and then she said something about that other guy and I just lost my nerve. The more I think about it, the crazier it sounds to me that I thought that I could make this work if she was willing to give it a chance.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Getting hurt. Hurting her,” he said, the simplicity of his words eclipsed by the complexity of their meaning.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“I’m scared to really let her in. I know I can’t ask her to even consider being with me— sacrificing what she’d have to in order to be with me— if I can’t truly let her in.”
“Does this have something to do with Cristin?”
Justin almost flinched at the word. It was the first time he’d heard her name spoken aloud in ages. It had a bite to it. “That’s what terrifies me more than anything. To me, everything to do with Regan has something to do with Cristin.”
“No, Nathan. I said that I wanted all the U.S. published articles in the past six months pulled,” Grace instructed her assistant in New York, warily through her cell. “All you sent me here are fluff pieces from teenie mags. I want the reviews, feature stories, and professional profiles. I need to know what I’m doing here and, with all due respect, if I need to know Joey’s favorite color, I’ll ask him. I’m sampling the waters. I need to know what people are thinking of these guys and their images and their music or I can’t do my job. I already know they’re dreamy. Tiger Beat and J-14 aren’t doing me any good, Nathan.”
Her tirade was cut short by a knock at the door. “I have to go, Nate. Just fax me what you get as you get it, ok? Thank you.” She clicked her phone off as she made her way to the door. Glancing through the peephole, she saw a young woman looking kind of anxious. She groaned inwardly. If this is a stray fan, I’m going to be very annoyed.
She opened the door tentatively, eyeing the woman in front of her. “Yes?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the young woman apologized, a confused look sweeping over her features. “I’m must’ve been given the wrong room. You wouldn’t know where I can find JC Chasez by any chance would you?”
Just great. “And you are?” Grace asked trying to sound as pleasant as possible considering the day she was having.
“I’m Bridget Costelloe. You must be Grace, right?”
“Good call,” Grace laughed lightly, relieved that she wasn’t about to have her first awkward fan encounter. “How’d you know?”
“JC told me about you,” Bridget smiled knowingly. “I know most of the people they work with so it was just an educated guess.”
“I see. JC mentioned you, too, but he didn’t say you were coming out,” Grace returned the smile, motioning for her to come in.
“Oh, we just came out to surprise my sister-in-law, Regan. She’s dancing tonight,” Bridget explained.
“Yes, he told me. He actually asked me to go with him… well the group,” Grace corrected quickly. “You know what I mean.”
“I sure do,” Bridget smirked knowingly before continuing in an exaggerated whisper. “Actually, I have an ulterior motive for being here. Me and JC have a little plan I kind of have to be present to set in motion.”
Grace groaned inwardly. “Yeah, he told me bits and pieces. While I have you here, can I just beg you to keep whatever you two have planned out of the public eye? I already explained to JC the plethora of cardiac problems he could inflict on me with this.”
“I promise to try,” Bridget winked. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you but I just wanted to pop in on JC really quick- ya know give a tiny shock, let him know I’m here. My daughter’s taking a nap downstairs in our room and I can’t leave her alone much longer.”
“Oh, how sweet. How old is she?”
“She turned four last month,” Bridget smiled proudly.
“Well, I’m not sure where JC is right now but I can track him down and send him your room.”
“Well, I kinda like the element of surprise, myself.”
“I’m a media consultant. I’m sure I can come up with a false pretense. He’ll be shocked when you open the door, I promise,” Grace grinned evilly.
“Wow, I can tell we’re going to be friends,” Bridget smirked as they made their way back to the door. “We’re in room 2475.”
“2475,” Grace repeated, committing the number to memory.
“Oh and one more thing,” Bridget added opening the door.
“What’s that?” Grace asked.
“Hurt him, I’ll kill you. Ok?”
“Uh, ok…” Grace replied, taken aback.
“Bye now,” Bridget smiled brightly before disappearing down the hallway, leaving Grace to ponder the warning she’d been issued.
Grace sighed heavily as she rolled her sore neck, realizing she still had to shower for her non-date. She reached for her cell phone and palm pilot, bringing up JC’s cell number. He picked up after several rings.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I can’t non-date a man who answers the phone like that.”
“What’s up Miss Roberts?”
“I know it’s last minute but Johnny has just informed me that there’s someone from Rollingstone downstairs begging for two minutes. She just wants a quote for a blurb on the upcoming tour and from what Johnny tells me you’re the man she should talk to.”
“Can’t Lance do it? He’s probably better. He knows more than I do plus I’m kinda busy with Justin, here.”
“I saw Lance a few minutes ago and he was heading into the shower,” she lied, hoping that Lance wasn’t with him at the time. “It’ll take five minutes, I promise. She’s in a room right downstairs, no biggie. I’m sure the Boy Wonder needs to get ready for tonight anyway. Please.”
“Fine. What room?”
“2475. Just knock.”
“Ok, but if Junior has a nervous breakdown while I’m talking to this woman, you’ll be consulting all of us in Belleview.”
“Why all of you?” she laughed.
“You don’t think he’ll take the rest of us off the cliff of insanity? He could do it without going nuts himself.”
“I can see that,” she chuckled under her breath. “Well I suppose I’ll see you when we leaving. 6:30, down in the lobby. I’ll be the one with a rose in my teeth.”
“Classy.”
“Oh and JC?”
“Yeah?”
“Be on time.”
“Are you ready yet?”
“What time is it?”
“Almost 6:30, so move your ass.”
“Alright, alright.”
Justin scrambled to get his mane of curls under control while JC and Joey sat on his bed waiting— entirely amused. Justin had always been concerned about the condition of the “fro” but he seemed just that much more worried about it tonight. It was good to see him going through so much trouble for a girl. He hadn’t had many girlfriends in his 19 years— none serious, by any means— and he’d never been the one to pursue.
Not that he had a big head about it. It just never really occurred to him. Cristin was the only girl the guys had ever seen have any effect on his behavior and moods, and that was never even romantic. He was always pretty laid back with whomever he was seeing. That was what would nip the relationship in the bud every time— the girl would get too possessive, too attached, too clingy, too needy. Justin was just never into a relationship enough to put the effort into making it work when that would happen. He had his career, his family, his friends. That was enough to worry about.
Regan was the first girl to come along not just to make him work for what he wanted, but made him want to. Of course, all that was translated into insecurity and nervousness. It was fine when he hadn’t yet admitted to himself that Regan was something he wanted to go for. Now he had no clue how he was going to act around her.
“Do I look ok?”
“Dashing. Can we go now?” JC replied, eyebrow raised in impatience.
“Yeah, one sec,” Justin said going back into the bathroom.
“So Grace and Bridget have met, eh?” Joey laughed turning to JC.
“Yeah,” JC nodded. “It would have been one thing if I were there but now… I really want to know what they talked about and they’re both being very immature about it all.”
“So basically, Grace is fitting right in?”
“Basically.”
“I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure the whole thing went like: ‘Hi. I’m Bridget.’ ‘Hi. I’m Grace.’ ‘JC here?’ ‘No.’ ‘K. Bye.’”
“We’re talking about Bridget Elizabeth O’Donnell-Costelloe here. Plus they had time to plan out a trick to get me to Bridget’s room so she could surprise me. They’re working together already.”
“Cheer up, dude. Bridget’s probably the best friend a guy could have and Grace is hot.”
“Thanks Joe…”
“No, I just mean that you have two great girls in your life. You should be a little happier about that fact, I think.”
“Leave it to you to see quantity as a virtue,” JC smirked as Justin emerged from the bathroom looking exactly the same as he did when he when in. “Are you ready now? Grace, Lance, Chris, and everyone are waiting downstairs already.”
“You’re sure I look ok?”
“YES!” both men exclaimed.
“Ok, ok,” Justin replied, attempting to relax himself. “I’m ready,” he added more to himself than anyone before striding out the door before either of his of his companions could get to their feet.
“That’s one mighty determined pop star, I’d say,” Joey laughed. “Guess your little heart to heart before went well?”
“Let’s just say that as long as Bridget holds up her end, we should be in pretty good shape by the end of the night. She went over to the theater early so she should be working her magic as we speak.”