On a night in mid-January, New Orleans was experiencing its typical evening. The streets were crowded with leftover tourists and visitors from the New Year’s celebration, a rotten smell of alcohol and sweat lingering in the air, accompanied by the stench of the collected trash that could be found alongside the streets of the busiest areas, a swarm of flies buzzing around the mounds. The action had quieted down a bit since most of the usual night owls had been exhausted by the activity earlier in the month. Only the truly dedicated were still living it up that night.
Inside one of the busier, more crowded clubs, three girls sat at the bar.
“You’re such a liar!” Karen exclaimed, a lazy smile spread on her face, the affects of the many drinks she had had that night starting to kick in. Her normal upper class accent and vocabulary had been dropped for the moment, replaced with the usual slang and bad manners that she had picked up over the months. “Chick, I know for a fact that you did not show up at The Downtown Club last night.”
Sita, who was seated in the middle, looked as sober as a D.A.R.E. pamphlet. “What do you mean? I was there, I swear,” she protested without much effort. Her language too had been dimmed down to accommodate the other girl next to her.
Hazel remained indifferent on the subject and played with the glass in front of her.
“No, you weren’t,” Karen argued. “I was there last night Sita, and I know I would have seen you.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t.”
“I would have,” Karen repeated stubbornly. She leaned brashly on her chair to look at the quiet girl, almost falling backwards in the process. “Haze, do you think I would have seen her if she had gone to the Downtown Club?”
“What kind of question is that?” Sita said.
Hazel shrugged. “You do know how to make an entrance Sita. That club’s pretty small, too.”
“See! Told you!”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Fine, you were right Karen. Now what do you want? A cookie?”
Karen shot her a look, leaning sloppily on the counter as she tipped the mug to her lips, finishing off the glass. She slammed it down, signifying to the bartender that she wanted another. “It proves my point that you have not been going out much lately. I mean, you’ve even resorted to lying!”
“So what?”
“So…” Karen had to stop and remember what she had been trying to get at. “So, why….yes, why have you been avoiding the clubs? Isn’t it enough that you spend all day in that horribly stuffy little mansion-"
“That’s an oxymoron.”
“-and now you’re spending your evening’s there as well? Why Sita? You can’t still tell me this has anything to do with-“
“Karen,” Sita cut her off sternly, glaring at her with eyes even the intoxicated girl could see clearly, “I would advise you not go any further into this discussion.”
“I’m going to dance,” Hazel mumbled, oblivious to the faces the other two girls were exchanging. She stood up and dissolved into the crowd of bodies on the dance floor.
Karen leaned closely to the girl next to her. She was whispering now, her voice a serious but harsh breath of alcohol on Sita face. “We’ve spent almost two years, jumping from state to state, from coast to coast, away from home, away from him. Two years Sita. Don’t you think it about time you forget about him? I’m sure he’s forgotten about you.”
Sita’s face was unaffected. “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re hopeless.”
“Sita, is that you?”
A shiver of disgust ran up her back as the familiar voice hit her ears like an unwanted, noisy siren. An inviting urge to never turn around, to jump over the bar and hid beneath the bottles and glasses came over her. She ignored it and tried to stop her mouth from grimacing as she looked back. “Hello J.J.”
J.J. Richards had not changed. He looked exactly the same, as carbon copy from the pages of Bachelor as he had ever been. His brown eyes shimmered in a beautiful arrogance and his lips took no shame in revealing how very glad they were to be on that face.
Karen looked back and squinted her eyes before bursting in a series of loud, annoying laughs. “Oh God, of all the people…”
J.J. ignored her. “It’s such a pleasant surprise to see you Sita…to see both of you ladies,” he didn’t even glance at Karen, although the strapping young man next to him could not stop gawking at her, “What a coincidence we’ve run into each other.”
Sita nodded towards the other man. “Good evening Neal.”
Neal Klein bowed, his blond hair falling over his eyes momentarily. “Sita.” He turned to Karen, who had already focused back on the bar and was gulping down another drink. “Karen Cooper, what a pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is all yours,” she muttered without facing him.
Neal was as ignorant as J.J. “We’ve missed you down in Florida. It’s just not the same without you.”
“Funny,” Karen stood, holding a full glass, “Everything is the same, and maybe even much better, without you Neal. If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I must be off to find something more entertaining than Ken Doll and his sidekick, over inflated ego boy.”
Karen pushed her way into the dance floor while holding the glass above her head. Neal, like an obedient dog, trailed after her. Sita noticed J.J.’s smile as he realized they were now alone, and she spoke before he got a chance to utter his usual parade of compliments. “J.J., how did you find us?”
“My, what ever do you mean?”
She glared at him. “You know exactly what I mean. Your hired spies have improved, I see. How did they locate us?”
J.J. grinned smugly. “A magician never reveals his secrets, Sita.”
“I’m not some white rabbit stuck inside your top hat. When a person runs away, they don’t want to be found. Why did you come here?”
“To make you a proposition,” he said. He took the liberty of seating himself on the stool next to her. “Whether you believe me or not, I have missed you. Everyone has. Your father is simply miserable without you.”
Her face grew darker and her jaw clenched together. “Make your point.”
“All right. Here it is. We’ve been playing this game ever since we were introduced, and it was fun for awhile, but it’s been nearly two years since I’ve seen you Sita. I think we’ve both probably grown up during this time. I don’t want to play games with you anymore. I’ve spent an unbelievable amount of money and effort to find you. Karen is smart. She knew how to hide her tracks well. I’ve been working at my father’s office for the past three years and he’s ready to make me an executive. At twenty-one, I already have a career and a future for you.”
She stared at him with large green eyes, almost to in shock to speak her next words. “J.J., you aren’t…I mean, you can’t be…”
He faced her completely and took her unwilling hands in his own. “Sita, I want you to be my wife.” It wasn’t even a question. He had said it as an inevitable statement that he had been waiting to say for a long time. There wasn’t even a doubt in his face, he already envisioned placing the ring on her finger.
He wasn’t prepared for her answer.
Her hands jerked from his grasp, repelled by an invisible beast that was ready to bite off her ring finger. She looked as though she had been dealt with a slew of irrevocable insults that someone had splashed on her face. “J.J., the answer is no.”
His cool manner slipped from him and his face fell. “But…but, why? This is so right.”
“No, it’s not. Not at all.” She got up, backing away slowly, shaking her head the entire time. “It’s not. I have to go. Good-bye.”
Astonished, J.J. watched her go, his hand frozen in his pocket where he had been preparing to reveal the gray velvet box which contained an impeccable piece of jewelry his mother had helped him pick out. He sat there, alone, saying nothing, barely moving, his face unmarred but his pride bruised. Eventually Neal Klein walked up to him, his expression a giant smile. “J.J.!”
J.J. blinked. “Oh, hello Neal. How are things with Karen?”
“Terrible. I think it maybe over between us. But, I have some news. I’ve met this girl. She’s…unbelievable…J.J.? What’s wrong man? How did it go with Sita?”
J.J. bitterly glanced at him. “She said no.”
Neal’s eyes widened and his smile abruptly left. “Why on earth did she do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are you going to do? I suppose we shall be leaving back to Florida soon. Your mother will be so disappointed at the news.”
“You’re leaving back to Florida soon,” J.J. announced, “I’m staying here.”
Neal was dumbfounded. “What? Why?”
“Because, I made a promise to myself to make Sita Perne mine,” he said fiercely, a stone wall of determination in his eyes. “I never go back on a promise. Especially a promise to myself. She’s going to change her mind Neal. I’m going to stay here and make sure she does. This isn’t over.”
~~
Trey Remy was a forty-six year old man who enjoyed money, tennis, and a couple of shots of whisky every now and then after lunch. He was a friendly man who knew how to use his resources for pleasure and for business. He enjoyed surrounding himself with wealthy people, in order to reflect his own wealth, and he especially loved going out to lunch with his good friend, Rama Perne. He was also the president of Jive Records.
He always wore a black sports coat to work, and never wore a tie. His thick brown hair was graying, but in a fashionable manner that made him look almost more attractive. His face was that of a retired football player, although he had never cared much for the sport, and his eyes were ovals of friendliness and intelligence. Trey Remy was born to be a businessman.
He sat in his top-floor office, the floor made out of black glass, his desk a clear, crystal, and his background one giant window that overlooked the city. One large hand with perfectly manicured fingernails reached out and pressed a button, an intercom to his secretary’s desk. “Bring him in now.”
“Yes sir,” the secretary replied.
One of the double doors in front of him opened, and a young man walked in. He was thin and tall, a straight line cutting through the air, a professionally still expression overtaking his features.
“Take a seat,” Trey said, looking over this remarkable young man before him, already impressed although not knowing the reason.
The young man sat down. It seemed as though his body was restricting itself from doing as much movement as possible, it seemed almost painful, but the face showed no pain, just a calm, serious expression. “Thank you for seeing me sir.”
“It’s not a problem Mr. Chasez.” Trey paused. “I hate using such formalities. May I just call you JC?”
“You may.”
“You may call me Trey.”
“Ok.”
“Now, what is it you wanted to see me about?” Trey asked, leaning back into his comfortable leather chair.
“The new record. I want to produce it.”
“You mean like the last record?”
“No. I don’t want to just produce a couple of songs. I want to produce the whole thing.”
Trey grinned, enjoying JC’s bluntness. “You think you can handle it?”
“Yes.”
“I have been hearing quite a few things about you. You’ve got a lot of experience now, producing other artists I mean. I hear that, whenever you aren’t touring, you’re always the last to leave the studio and the first to get there. I heard you don’t sleep JC. I’ve heard you’re particular and intolerable in the studio, a perfectionist.”
“I just want to make sure the song gets done correctly,” JC said.
“Don’t you want time to have a social life?”
“No.”
“Ah, a man who lives for his work. I like that.” Trey glanced around and the shrugged lightly. “All right. You can produce it.”
JC stared at him, his eyes widening slightly. “Excuse me?”
“You have my permission to produce your record. If I may, I’d like to offer you the advice of finding other producers to work with you. You need an outsider’s opinion and you’re still not a complete professional at producing yet. I think you boys still have a couple of weeks of promotion left, but after that you can start recording as soon as you’d like. These next couple of weeks should be used to find those other producers and the songs and type of record you want to make. Is that all?”
“Yes sir.”
Trey smiled. “Call me Trey.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot.” JC stood up and started to leave. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
~~
“I knew he’d agree.”
Kalika Perne and JC Chasez sat in the large, classy studio, owned by Jive Records. Often, she would come to visit him there. Somehow she always knew when he would be there. When he did lift his head from the outboard or a song he was writing and spoke to her, it was mainly about producing. She brought to the table the technique she was taught from her classes in college and he blended that in with his raw, untamed talent. Their relationship had not advanced over the years; it always remained on the brink of a mere business association and a great friendship.
Neither ever brought up Sita.
“Trey Remy is a smart business man,” Kalika, who sat on the couch, said. “He’s got a great head for this sort of thing and isn’t afraid to take chances. Father can’t give him enough praise, and vice versa.”
“He gave me some good advice,” JC said. “I need to find the right producers to work with, but I don’t know where to start.”
“You need someone fresh and modern. There isn’t that much new talent roaming around Florida anymore. Everyone is out to create the standard, formulated pop album. We’ll have to start searching across the nation. I have some people that I can get in contact with.” Kalika paused, then said, “When we do find them, you will have to charm them somewhat.”
“Why?”
“All right, maybe not charm, but you’ll have to be civil with them. JC, lately you’ve been quite harsh in the studio and other producers won’t stand for it.”
JC turned his back on her, towards the outboard. “Then I’ll find ones who will.”
“JC-"
“I have to get to work now. If you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”
Kalika sighed, already accustomed to the treatment. “If you wish.” She waited with her hand on the doorknob to see if he would at least say good-bye. When his head remained lowered, she opened the door and walked out.
~~
Sita refused to leave her house.
“What’s the probability you’ll ever see any of them?”
The rectangle, Olympic size pool glistened in the early afternoon sun that hung high in the sky. The terrace was huge, chairs and tables with umbrellas were scattered around, just like any hotel resort would have them. A maid waited patiently to the side, holding a stack of towels and a cellular phone, which she used to summon the butler with whatever requests the girls had. The pool was surrounded by dark red Spanish tiles which spread across the terrace and ended abruptly at a large patch of grass that led to the tennis courts.
On the far end of the large pool, sitting on cushioned lawn chairs in expensive swimsuits, sat two girls soaking up the sun. Karen rested back peacefully, her eyelids closed in order to shut out the boiling glare of the sun. Along with a red two piece, she wore red stiletto heals. She had no intention of ever setting foot into the water.
Sita was sitting up, her position resembling that of an Egyptian queen. It would have made more sense if a group of large, muscular men were underneath her, carrying her chair above their heads as her royal eyes roamed over her land. Her skin glistened in a deep brown and seemed to compliment the green two-piece suit she wore, instead of the other way around. She was watching the figure swimming laps in the pool.
Hazel had to borrow one of Sita’s old, one-piece swimsuits. She surprised both of her friends by jumping into the clear blue waters immediately and swimming like a professional. Her thin body sliced through the water in a perfectly straight line, the occasional rise of her head and the movement of her arms the only thing visible through the water.
“The probability,” Sita answered, “Is slim to none.”
“Then why are you restricted yourself to the house?”
“I don’t want to take any chances.” The locals had been a buzz about the music group that was coming down to New Orleans for promotional reasons. Sita new the day would come when they would make their way to The Big Easy and had long ago made the resolution to avoid being out at all costs while they were in town. She didn’t believe she would run into him. But then again, their whole relationship was based on strange and unexpected meetings.
“You’re being completely foolish,” Karen said. “How long will you keep this up?”
“As long as I have to.”
“How long is that? Sita, you’ll have to face them all eventually.” Karen opened her eyes and propped herself on her elbow to face the other girl. “You know you miss home just as much as I do. I love Kal, but I think she made a prideful, rash decision when she asked you to leave. I don’t think she meant it.”
Sita smiled faintly. “Then why hasn’t she tried to get in contact with me to tell me to come back?”
Karen’s eyes lowered. “I don’t think anything has developed between them.”
“Let’s not talk about it.”
“No, we have to. I don’t believe he returns her feelings, and I know you told me that to her, that doesn’t matter, but it does matter to him. He wants you, not her. You want him. People will get hurt, but doing it this way hurts everyone and gains nothing. You said it yourself, we have to start doing things for ourselves, live the way we choose to. Living our lives based on other people will get us nowhere. What if the entire human race lived their lives for everyone else? No one would accomplish anything, every life would be a waste.”
“I know this. I understand it. But I love my sister Karen. Keeping away from him, giving her the time with him alone, without me to disrupt things, is my gift to her. It’s the only thing I can give her without sacrificing myself. If I had stayed then what do you think would have happened?”
“You would have been with JC.”
“Yes, but I’d have the guilt of my sister weighing in my mind. I would feel indebted to her, like I owed her. I would have denied her my feelings for JC, but I would have given her any other part of me that she wanted to make up for the betrayal I stabbed her with. Don’t you get it? By leaving, I saved myself and my life.”
“But without him, you’re miserable.”
“Without the ability to stay true to myself, he wouldn’t want me anyway.”
Just then they heard a splash of water and both looked to see Hazel jumping out of the pool. The maid immediately ran to hand her a towel, which she took hesitantly, like a pauper being offered a glass of whine.
“Have a nice swim?” Karen asked, her bright smile competing with the sun.
Hazel shrugged. “I guess.”
Sita moved upwards in her seat so Hazel could sit next to her. “Do you have to go to work today?”
“Yea,” she replied, sitting down slowly. “Can you give me a ride Karen?”
“Don’t I always? You want me to take the convertible?”
Hazel grinned. “Could you?”
Karen laughed. “You are so in love with that car.”
“Are you coming with us?” Hazel asked Sita, squinting her large eyes.
Sita paused, and then Karen said for her, “Of course she’s coming. Why would Sita want to stay here, sitting around doing nothing? Unless, that is, you have something better to do Sita dear.”
Sita glared at her then forced a smile for Hazel. Through clenched teeth, she said, “I’ve been wanting to leave the house anyway.”