Oreos for Breakfast

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 36
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

“Hi, honey, I’m home!” AJ called as he opened the door, and Bates meowed against my leg, pouting. He’d liked having me all to himself for a couple of hours.

I put my guitar down, but didn’t get up for fear of disturbing Bates further. “What, you’re not going to write a note announcing your return?”

AJ laughed, hanging up his coat and going into the kitchen with a bag. “Like that?”

He’d left for dinner with Kevin while I was napping, so I’d awoken to a note on my lamp, reminding me that he was going to dinner with Kevin. And a note on my dresser. And the door to my room. In the bathroom. Then a trail of Post-Its from the bathroom to the door. The last one had been on the door and it said ‘Now I’m ten minutes late because I had to write all these notes.’ I’d taken them all down and posted them on the fridge, in order.

“You kept them?” he asked, seeing them on the fridge.

“They made me laugh. And, see, I didn’t worry about where you were.”

“In my defense, I was trying to do something nice for you this morning, and it wouldn’t have been a surprise if I’d left a note. Did you eat? I have like half a steak here.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m fine. Not much of a steak person.”

“Really? I could have gotten something else. Want anything?” he asked, looking over at me from the fridge.

“Just a water. Bates and I had a tuna sandwich for dinner, I’m good. How was dinner with Kevin?”

He came into the living room with two bottles of water and hesitated for a second, wanting to sit next to me, but I had Bates on one side and my guitar on the other. “I can move my guitar,” I offered, but he sat across from me.

“Kevin says we shouldn’t have been in bed together this morning. I’ll sit over here.”

“You were cold!”

AJ shrugged. “You could have gotten me another blanket.”

I blushed, looking down to pet Bates. “Yeah, but… why did you tell Kevin we were in bed together this morning?”

“I mentioned something you said, and then he got all freaked out. And it’s not you, don’t worry. He knows that you are good and kind and virtuous. He doesn’t trust me.”

“Wasn’t dinner supposed to fix that?”

He shrugged, motioning to the guitar. “Were you working on something?”

“We’ll talk about that later. What happened with Kevin?”

“It was fine,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just when I think that things are okay, then I’m faced with someone else that I hurt. I got out of rehab and we went back on tour and none of them knew what to do with me, so when the tour was over, we just went our own ways. I’ve been with Sarah and I didn’t work on things with them. I wasn’t really sure if it was worth it. If the band was over, why bother?”

“It’s not over, AJ.”

“You keep saying that. But you’re not a Backstreet Boy.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, petting my cat again. “Sorry. I just… I guess I’ve heard so much about Nsync from JC that I don’t want to think that the same thing is happening to you guys.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, Rachel. But I just figured out today that it doesn’t matter what happens with Backstreet. Kevin’s still my friend, no matter what happens with the band. I don’t want to lose him, so I have to work on getting him to trust me again.”

I smiled at him. “That’s nice.”

He returned my smile. “It’s been a good day for me. I thought it was going to be horrible, losing Sarah, but I found other things to work on. Thanks for making me come here.”

I shrugged. “Not a problem. I’m glad you came.”

“I’m going to leave soon.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I do. I have stuff I have to work on in LA.”

“I know. I just meant that I like having you here, so stay as long as you need to.”

“Maybe I’ll come back for your show next month. I was supposed to get married on Valentine ’s Day. That might be a bad day.”

“Yeah…” I agreed. “If you come, I’ll do your song.”

His eyebrows went up. “What song?”

I grinned, picking up my guitar. “The song I just wrote for you.”

“You wrote me a song?” He sounded completely shocked.

“I think I might write you another one. I have the phrase ‘when things turn green again’ from what you said this morning about being a better person in the spring, but that didn’t fit here. That became ‘three months’ here. April, when the grass is green again.”

“You wrote me a song?” he repeated, still shocked.

“Yeah, it used to freak Nick out, too. I write songs, Alex. It’s what I do.”

I started playing, Bates still curled up next to me. I knew it was a good song when Bates would stay next to me as I played. I think he liked the vibrations of the strings around him or something.

And I don’t know
This could break my heart or save me
Nothing’s real
Until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts I’ve been saving
So here I go with all my fears weighing on me

Three months and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds, but kept the flowers
But I know it’s never really over

And I don’t know
I could crash and burn, but maybe
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me
So I won’t worry about my timing, I want to get it right
No comparing, second guessing, no, not this time

Three months and I’m still breathing
Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in, but I know
It’s never really over, no

Three months and I’m still standing here
Three months and I’m getting better, yeah
Three months and I still am

Three months and it’s still harder now
Three months I’ve been living here without you now
Three months, yeah
Three months, I hurt

Three months and I’m still breathing
Three months and I still remember it
Three months and I wake up

Three months and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds, but kept the flowers…
(Sober by Kelly Clarkson)

I hadn’t looked at him while I sang, glancing down at the lyrics I’d scribbled in my notebook instead, and he didn’t say anything as I let the song fade away.

“Rachel…” he finally said, his voice shaky, and I looked over at him. Too much?

There were tears on his face. “That was… the most amazing gift anyone has ever given me.”

I put my guitar aside. “It’s for me, too. Maybe in three months we’ll both be better people.”

“That was my whole day, in a three minute song.”

I smiled at him. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

Laughing, he came over to me, moving my guitar out of the way to sit down and hug me. “When are you going to record it, so I can listen to it over and over again?”

“You have to sing on it.” I said. I had it all planned out, AJ’s name penciled in for the backing vocals on my lyric sheet.

“I will just cry like the big girly man that I am.”

I smiled against his shoulder, still wrapped in his embrace. “Backing vocals. Do you think Jive will let you? I wouldn’t have written it without you as inspiration.”

“Screw Jive! Come with me to LA. I’ve got a studio in the basement.”

“We can go to Jeremy’s - ooh! JC has a four-track or something in the music room. We can do it right now.”

I wiggled away from him and jumped up to find my phone.

“Are you serious?” he asked, and I smiled at him.

“What, Nick never told you about how we once recorded three songs in a day? We are all about instant gratification in Sudden Silence! JC!” I said, as he answered. “Are you awake? Can AJ and I come over and use your studio?”

“Do I have a studio?” JC asked, still a little stunned.

“You have a four-track, right? And a bunch of keyboards that make weird bleepy noises. I’m sure I can figure out how to attach an actual guitar to something.”

“You’re so fucking organic. Yeah, come over.”

James met us at the door to his boyfriend’s apartment. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked, looking hopeful. “Did you write something?”

“AJ and I came up with a great new version of ‘I Want It That Way’, and we have to get it down,” I said.

“Don’t fuck with me. No offense to your biggest hit,” he said to AJ. “What is it? Can I hear it? Every song needs a good bass line.”

“You act like we haven’t been in the studio for years! It’s only been like three weeks.”

“Four. And did you play it for him first?” he said, looking at AJ accusingly as we walked back to the studio.

“It’s his song. Yes, I played it for him first. Now we’re going to record it and it’s a little present from me to AJ.”

“But I still get to hear it, right? If it’s good we can put it on the record?”

I shrugged, looking around the music room. “It’s AJ’s song. He can decide.”

AJ pretended to consider the idea until James punched his arm, making him cry out.

“I’ve got like two feet on you, pop star,” James said. “Don’t think because you get one song written about you that you’re the best friend.”

“I thought I was only one you wrote songs for, Rachel,” AJ mock-protested, and I snickered, yanking a lead out of the recorder and plugging in my guitar.

“Have you ever listened to my lyrics, baby? I’m a song whore,” I said, distracted by JC trying to help me hook up the guitar.

“But I’m new and special,” AJ said, and I smiled at him.

“Exactly, sweetie. Let’s go. Fire this thing up, James.”

I was tired, but still a little buzzy from recording the song tonight. JC was a demanding producer, and he’d made me redo the guitar part about ten times.

He’d tortured AJ so much on the backing track that James and I had to escape the horror and watch an old episode of the Gilmore Girls he had on Tivo.

Still, for recording on a four-track, ‘Sober’ sounded pretty good. It was a sad, scared song, but still hopeful, and I knew it was good. It would probably never be released to the rest of the world, but that didn’t matter. It was mine. Ours. Mine and AJ’s, which felt a little weird.

Rachel Connor and AJ McLean, produced by JC Chasez. That was just bizarre. James hadn’t even added anything to it, proclaiming it perfect as it was.

AJ was humming the song as I put my guitar back in the corner of the living room where it lived most of the time, and I smiled at him. “You’re going to be sick of it by tomorrow.”

“Never,” he promised, and I agreed.

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?” The buzz from creating something new coming back as we looked at each other.

“It’s amazing. I still can’t believe you did that in the couple of hours while I was at dinner.”

I headed towards the kitchen, because Bates was under my feet, demanding a midnight snack. Two in the morning snack. Close enough. “I won’t tell you how long it actually took to write it.”

“No, tell me,” AJ insisted, following me into the kitchen.

I considered, shaking some food into Bates’ bowl. “An hour? Maybe? It just… it was just there. You know it’s good when it just falls out of you.”

Bates looked at his bowl, then back up at me, sitting down, his tail swishing. “You’re so spoiled,” I told him, reaching for his cat treats.

“It takes me like a week to write a song.”

“Practice,” I said, giving Bates a couple of treats on top of his regular food. He devoured them as soon as I moved away from his bowl. “Brat,” I told him.

“He is a very spoiled cat,” AJ informed me, and I shrugged, putting the treats away.

“He’s the only man in my life right now.”

“Lucky cat.”

I looked up, a little… surprised by his tone. Worried? Excited? All of the above?

He stepped closer to me, meeting my eyes, and I didn’t move away. He hesitated a second, and then shrugged. “Fuck it,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing me.

I didn’t fight him. I couldn’t. I felt like my knees were going to buckle, so I held on to him as he backed me against the counter, his lips never leaving mine.

This was not just an innocent kiss between friends.

Finally we had to stop to breathe, and I leaned my forehead against his shoulder. “That was such a fucking cliché, Aje.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing anything else.”

“Okay,” I agreed, disappointed and relieved in equal measures.

“But that might have been my only chance ever to do that, and I didn’t want to regret the possibility.”

I smiled. “Me neither.”

I looked up at him, and he brushed the hair away from my face, cupping my face in his hands. “Three months,” he said, echoing our song, and I nodded.

“In three months,” he said, “If Sarah’s gone, and I think she might be, and if Nick is an idiot and can’t be what you need, give me a chance to fuck it all up.”

I laughed, and he kissed me quickly before I could protest. “Fuck the guy code or whatever you called it. I’ll risk losing Nick to be your rebound guy for a while.”

“I would probably be considered the Yoko Ono of boy bands, but I’d be okay with that,” I said, making him laugh.

“Really?”

“Absolutely,” I assured him, kissing him again. He pulled away from me after a moment, shaking his head.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, and I nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Because we can’t do anything else,” he said, convincing himself, and I nodded again.

“Not if we don’t want Sarah to kill us both.”

“And Nick.” He reminded me.

“And Nick,” I agreed. It didn’t matter if he ran away to Vegas and married the hotel heiress tomorrow. He’d still kill AJ for kissing me. That was I sure of. It would be more male ego than love for me, but he’d do it.

“Okay,” AJ said, walking away. “Going to bed now.”

“Sleep well.”

“I don’t know that there will be much sleep. But I’m going to my room now. I’ll listen to my song.”

He pulled the CD out of his pocket and held it out to me. “This is better than the kiss.”

“Really?” I asked. It had been a pretty good kiss.

He smiled. “Okay, the kiss was pretty great. But this will last.”

I could only smile in return, and he turned away, heading for his bedroom.

“AJ?” I called, and he stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“I made this New Year’s resolution not to have sex with anyone unless it meant something. If it’s not Nick, it’ll be you. If things don’t work with Sarah. And I hope they work with Sarah.”

He just threw me a smile and went back to his room. I stood there for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts and breathe.

Journal Entry - January 13, 2003

Didn’t I tell you that if we got back together in March, you had to tell me everything you did in our time apart?

That counts for me, too, right?

Okay, one of two things will happen - we won’t get back together in March, either because one or the other of us decides we don’t want to (still not sure what I want, but that’s an issue for another day) or because you don’t show up (I don’t know what I want, but I can assure you that I will be there. If you don’t show, I might find you just to slap you around.) If we don’t get back together, then you’ll never read this letter.

If we do get back together, then we can’t have any secrets, so you’ll read this letter and you’ll have to be okay with it, because we’re back together and happy forever, la la la, sunshine and roses and white fluffy clouds.

I kissed AJ. AJ kissed me. Both.

If you’re reading this, this where you coming tearing out of the room to find me. Or call me freaking out if I’m not with you. Or maybe you just immediately go to kill AJ.

Stop. Relax. I will remind you of the hotel heiress. By the time you read this, we will surely have discussed her to death, because I don’t think you’re getting your hands on this notebook until I’ve come to terms with that chapter in your life.

And we will probably have discussed Justin, because that was a couple of letters ago.

I guess AJ is my second bad thing, then, to your one really hugely bad thing.

But… yeah. Not apologizing. I’m single. AJ’s single right now, sorta. I know there’s the guy code and all that, and there’s a girl code, too, that you really shouldn’t kiss your boyfriend’s (ex or otherwise) friends, but…

I wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss me. He’ll deal with Sarah, and I’ll deal with you.

It was only a kiss. A couple of kisses, but that was it. It’s been a weird few days, having him here. He’s a crazy, passionate, mixed-up guy, and he’s awesome. We’ve talked for hours, and he’s cried on my shoulder and I resisted crying on his, because I’m tired of crying about you.

He had this- well, I’ll tell you about his day and how he went missing on us if I need to. I’m tired and don’t want to go into all the details now, because that is a whole other letter. But he had this big day and told me all about it and like most big things, I wrote a four minute pop song about it. It’s what I do.

He loved the song, completely blown away by it, and I loved that. You’ve gotten used to my songs, and my band just expects them of me. But AJ saw this song as a gift, and that’s what it was.

It’s a really good song. One of my best. It’ll probably never make it onto an album- maybe my solo album someday- but it’s a great song.

So, we recorded it at JC’s and came back here and talked for a minute and then he kissed me. It wasn’t an accident. We didn’t stumble and our lips met. He meant it, and I wanted him to do it.

And here’s the part you’ll hate the most, but I have to tell you, although if you’re reading this, it’ll never happen.

In three months- April- if you fuck off and Sarah’s gone, we’re screwing all the codes and we’re going to see what happens. Maybe it’ll just be one night where we screw our brains out. Maybe we’ll be each other’s rebounds. Maybe… who knows?

It’ll definitely be that screwing each other’s brains out thing, though. At least that, because he’s right across the hall from me now and I keep staring at the door, hoping he doesn’t knock. Or hoping he does. Or wondering if I put on something really slinky, if he won’t be able to resist me.

I won’t do that, though. Because if that happens, he will have no shot in hell of working things out with Sarah, and I might not have a shot in hell with you. And you’d probably never go back to the band knowing I fucked AJ.

I don’t know what I want from you yet, but I know I don’t want to destroy it before I have a chance to figure it out.

If you’re reading this, don’t kill AJ. Come and find me and I’ll hold you and kiss you and tell you that I love you and…

Ow. Thinking of that hurts. Just when I think I can be rational and figure out what I want, I remember what it feels like to hold you and kiss you and tell you that I love you, and then I miss you all over again.

I might be wondering about AJ, but that is nothing compared to how much I miss you.

Good night, bunny.

“Rachel!” a voice commanded, and I snuggled deeper under the covers.

“Go ‘way,” I said, not even opening my eyes.

“But the bagels are warm.”

I rolled over, squinting at AJ. “What time is it?”

“6:30,” he answered, setting a bagel and a cup of coffee on my bedside table.

“Didn’t we go to bed at three or something?”

“There was no sleeping.”

“I think I just fell asleep like an hour ago.” I moved over, motioning to the space I’d vacated. “Sit down.”

He hesitated for a second, but he sat down. “I’m on the ten o’ clock flight back to LA this morning.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

“I need to go home.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re not just leaving because of last night, are you?”

“No,” he said, brushing a curl off my cheek. “I might be leaving because your hair is frightening in the morning.”

“At least I have hair.”

“Ow! That was cold!” he said, clutching his chest like he’d been wounded. “You’re mean in the morning, too.”

“I haven’t slept!”

“I brought you coffee and a bagel.”

I sat up and took a sip of my coffee. Not enough sugar, but it was a latte. Vanilla, not hazelnut. He needed to learn how to get my coffee right before I could keep him.

“Nothing for the homeless guys in Central Park today?”

He scratched his neck, looking guilty. “Can I give money to a homeless charity? I probably shouldn’t enable them to stay on the street.”

I patted his knee. “I’ll search out some good ones for you, therapy boy. Hey, do you have to go back to LA to talk about me with your therapist?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, and I smiled, taking a bite of my bagel.

“Cool. I don’t think I’ve been a subject of therapy since Jeremy.”

“Jeremy’s been in therapy?”

“It didn’t take.”

That made him laugh, and he stole a bite of my bagel. “Do you need a ride to the airport?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

“A car’s coming to get me.”

“Did you make all of these arrangements yourself?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Expedia is very cool.”

“I’m so proud of you! Feeding the homeless and booking your own airline tickets. My work here is done.”

He smiled. “I came for a couple of days and look at the things I’ve learned.”

“Yeah, I rule.”

“You do. I’m so glad I came.”

“Me too.” We shared a smile, then the rest of my bagel and he was gone half an hour later.

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