Charlie leaned his forehead against the door after he closed it, his eyes closed in concentration. He wanted to remember his Jane the way she looked as she was waiting for the elevator. She'd been standing in perfect profile to him, thin hair lying flat on her head and shoulders and against her back. Her bulky, winter clothes hid what little figure she had; throw in the fact that she was wearing her coat, and she seemed to have no breasts at all, which made him smile, his head still against the door. She'd blinked, twice, as she stepped back from pushing the button, and shifted from one sneakered foot to the other, and taken a deep breath, which moved her front up and down.

He stood there, motionless, for a good five minutes, just breathing, knowing she was getting farther and farther away. He finally opened his eyes and turned from the door. Regardless of the fact that his heart and soul were underground and headed for New Jersey, he had things he had to do.

The Charles McAllister machine had more of his life to chew up.

But before he left to face his day, Charlie first lay down with his face on her pillow, breathing deeply. Then he reached under it, pulling out her pink pajama top, the cotton long johns shirt he'd hidden there earlier. He pulled it on to wear under his shirt, but took it off after a minute, realizing that the fragrance of Jane that permeated it would quickly turn into smell of Charlie if he wore it. He carefully folded it and left it on her pillow.

On the subway, Jane was feeling really strange. She felt this way all the way home, and by the time she entered her empty house she was feeling lightheaded. She lay down on her bed, wondering what was wrong. She took a deep breath and burst into tears, startling Heathcliff, who'd followed her upstairs, anxious for company after spending the night alone. Jane realized that she'd basically been holding her breath all the way back from the city because she didn't want to cry on public transit.

So she did what most women did, and possibly men, who knew? She turned on her side and indulged in a good cry, cuddling Heathcliff, who was confused, but willing; he wasn't particular where his warmth came from.

Again, she told herself that she was lucky, that some people never even got to see Charlie, let alone meet him, let alone have him love them.

But she didn't care. She knew she was being a greedy, selfish bitch, but she wanted more. She wanted to be with Charlie, always.

Forever.

Her phone pinged with a text, and she grabbed it, hoping it was Charlie, but it was Camilla.

"Hey, where the hell have you been?? My mom said your mom thought you were spending the night here?"

Fuuuck.

"Shit, what did you say?"

"I told her we both went to Nona's until really late ;)"

"THANK YOU!!!"

"It's where I was, anyway, so it wasn't really a lie. Which leads me back to 'where the hell have you been??'"

"It's kind of complicated."

"?????"

"I'll tell you, I promise, just not right at this moment, okay?"

"mkay, but only because I love you, and I have to go do my volunteer hours at hospice RN."

"k. Have fun, ttyl"

Jane set her phone down. She knew Charlie wouldn't text her, or try to communicate with her in any way, at least for a while. He was definitely a "rip the band aid off" kind of person.

The door downstairs banged, and she heard her brother calling out to see who was home.

"Just me, Bear," she answered, realizing she'd been lying in bed, ruminating, for over an hour. "Mom and Dad won't be home until after dinner.

"Speaking of which," she continued, getting out of bed and going to meet him, "what do you want to eat? If you go shopping, I'll make us something."

She sat with Bear as he unpacked, and followed him downstairs as he started the washing machine. Then he went to the store, and she whipped up some spaghetti for the two of them, which they ate in front of the TV, watching Friends. Jane left the sauce out in case her parents came home hungry.

Bear looked over at her, smiling his million watt smile, and Jane realized that he kind of reminded her of Charlie. Both of them carried the quiet aura of confidence, something that had somehow skipped Jane, passing from her parents to her younger brother. And they were both so kind, which you could tell from looking at their eyes, though Bear's were just blue, and not the tricky shade of hazel that Charlie had.

"I've missed this," Bear was saying. "I mean, I know it gets so crazy right before Christmas and everything, but we need to find time to hang out, you know? Before next year rolls around and you're gone?"

Jane put her fork down and hugged her brother, saying, "I promise." God knew she'd have more free time in the future.

She wondered what Charlie was doing.

While Jane was watching Monica and Rachel lose a very important bet, Charlie was having a Very Important Dinner with some record executives and his team.

The talk droned on around him, about what direction they wanted him to go in, about how to best to present his "brand" to the fickle public. The record execs were putting out feelers toward a possible movie soundtrack tie-in; was it possible Charlie might have a song that would "fit" with Manhattan Nights?

Charlie had no fucking clue, but what he said was, "Sure, that might be possible," while nodding in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

His manager, Arlen, was looking at him sharply, but didn't say anything.

Charlie somehow muddled through the dinner, and took a breath of relief when it was over, heading to Arlen's hotel room with her to "talk".

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Arlen asked, pouring him a drink. "You were barely there during dinner, which was a big fucking deal, in case you didn't remember." She looked hard at Charlie. "I've hardly heard from you during this shoot."

Charlie tossed off the drink and held his glass out for another. "Well, that could be a good thing, don't you think? Maybe everything was going really well and I didn't need you."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Arlen replied, her usual, sunny demeanor nowhere to be found. "You didn't do some things that needed to get done, you didn't respond when I asked you things--I mean, what? I actually had some people check into things."

Charlie was motionless, mid-swallow. He slowly lowered his glass. "What do you mean?"

Arlen crossed her arms. "I mean I asked around to see if there was anything I needed to know." She gave him an even look.

"And? What did you find out?" Charlie asked cooly, returning her look.

"Nothing, other than the fact that you spent a lot of time alone, either in the car or in your room."

Charlie relaxed. He knew that, whenever he was seeing someone new, Arlen was supposed to find out first, even before his family, preferably. But the thought of Jane, and his relationship with her, being vetted and subjected to scrutiny by his "team" was unbearable. She was fine, she was perfect, just as she was, and he didn't need anyone to tell him that.

He shrugged. "So? I've been feeling introspective lately. Nothing wrong with that, right?"

Arlen uncrossed her arms, her smile making its first appearance of the night, possibly. "No, Charles, there isn't. I just worry about you, you know? And not because you're an important client, because you're a friend, okay?"

Charlie reached out and hugged her. "I know that, Arlen. And I'm sorry I've been so hard to reach these last couple months. I'll do better."

****************************

Jane walked to her first period class, feeling empty. For the first time in a long time, she didn't have Charlie to look forward to. She would see him on SNL, but that was it.

She drifted through her first two periods, daydreaming.

She was married to Charlie and living in Ithaca. He wrote music and made movies while she went to Cornell.

She got married to Charlie, wearing a beautiful dress that somehow didn't wash her out and made her look like she had a figure. They honeymooned in Bora-Bora.

She got engaged to Charlie, who proposed on a private yacht as it sailed around a lit-up Manhattan. They got married at St. Paul's Cathedral.

All of her fantasies seemed to have a theme.

Hmm.

Jane clicked her pen and put it to the notebook, which was still blank and pristine. She didn't see why they even had school this week, as nothing even remotely academic happened during the second half of December, anyway. Between the pageants, special assemblies, and activities, school was simply a free-for-all.

She glanced over at Camilla, who was, of course, scrolling through her phone. Since she got her early decision acceptance to Princeton, Cam wasn't even pretending to care about school.

Suddenly Camilla sat up as though she'd been hit by a bolt of lightning, eyes huge. She looked over at Jane, obviously dying to tell her what she'd just seen. Cam gestured to her phone, indicating that Jane should look at hers.

Jane shook her head. Ms. Temple had a direct line of sight to Jane and would notice immediately if she got her phone out.

The bell finally rang, and Camilla vaulted out of her chair, landing next to Jane without seeming to have touched the floor at all.

"What?" Jane asked curiously, smiling. With Cam, it could literally be anything, from a new shade of lipstick to a coup in a third world country.

"Ohmygod, Jane," Cam said, pausing for dramatic effect.

"Charles McAllister's made a sex tape."