This story takes place shortly after Great Expectations

"Tryn!" Sharmane's voice cut through a gray haze. Trynia moaned and turned over, unable to silence the throbbing of blood that sounded too loud for human tolerance.

"Trynia!" repeated Sharmane's voice. "Girl are you HERE?"

"GO away," she moaned, slowly coming to her senses. This was her bed, her room, but just WHY she was here one minute after a hazy befuddled dream was beyond her.

Awareness crashed around her, and she heard the static from her VCR television in one corner of the small bedroom. Grabbing with one hand she fumbled for her glasses, which were neatly set to one side of the alarm clock? Her body ached in protest, strange, because she didn't' remember anything resembling nocturnal Olympics occurring.

Yet, what was this issue of Gents magazine doing lying open to a male centerfold, his airbrushed bounty erect and alert? It lay open to one side of her bed, the side obviously not against the wall. And what on earth was she holding in her left hand, curled at her side. Slowly she willed her arm to move and gasped when she saw what she held.

At first, she was sure it was a flashlight, but it had a rubberized exterior, and was slightly moist. Trynia gasped in shock when she flipped the switch, and felt the buzzing noise jittering her arm.

"I don't OWN a vibrator," she muttered, tossing it on the pillow next to her. Was this some sort of practical joke? And she couldn't remember turning on her television to watch any movies. She rolled over and threw off the covers, revealing her nude body beneath, devoid of any nightclothes whatsoever.

"Shit... what HAPPENED?" she muttered, struggling against the soft mattress and sheets that were soaked in sweat. Confusion arose further, and she managed to roll to a sitting position at last. Grabbing a silk robe to one side, she threw it on automatically, and turned to the television on the corner of the bureau.

Her eyes caught sight of a garish orange and pink tape case, that said "Barely Legal Teens," atop another flick entitled "Wet hot Mailmen," and almost panicked. Granted she had rented them just for a giggle, but she could not recall ever having watched them. Yet, clearly that seemed the logical conclusion. Not to mention the aching in her core. Of course, the dildo was the answer to that. Still one nagging question remained, where had she even gotten the dildo to begin with?

"Girl, are you... THERE you are!" Sharmane cried, opening the door on a befuddled Trynia, staring at the porno mag in her hand.

"Shar... what time is it?"

"Only eleven thirty on a SUNDAY! Damn girl you... what HAVE you been doing? I didn't think you'd come back today..."

"Shar, I don't own a vibrator, do I?"

"Sounds like you didn't even NEED a date last night," Sharmane teased. "Where DID you get that silver bullet?"

"I don't remember!" Trynia moaned.

"How many drinks DID you have?" Sharmane asked, sitting down next to her confused friend. "You look horrible..."

"Only two beers, and I can't remember what happened after I met Charlie..."

"He called twice. He said something about driving you home last night. Next thing I remember was someone leaving me a note to tell you that you were home... and it was signed Charlie..."

"Charlie... brought me back?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm glad you actually ARE here! When Art and Harvey came back and found you'd gone... they were worried sick..."

"Damn..." Trynia groaned.

"Girl, I'm just glad you're okay. But next time let us KNOW where you're going..."

"I had no clue... this is VERY weird," she murmured. Slowly the pieces drifted back and she managed to at least construct a quick sketch of what had led up to her night out. In an attempt to bolster her spirits, Art and his brother Harvey had taken Trynia out with them on a group date to the local pub at Brownies in Ardmore. The evening of drinking had led to her meeting a young man named Charlie, who was also a student at Villanova, in their computer science department. He seemed a pleasant enough guy, but somehow the evening had faded into a blur. Harvey and Art had been called away by their dates, and Charlie had offered to run her home. That had to be what happened.

"I got you the silver bullet," Charlie said when they sat eating lunch that afternoon. "You were talking about sex toys, and you had me stop at a porn shop... and well you got me interested..."

"I don't' even Play with vibrators," she groaned.

"Well you seemed VERY interested. And then you asked me to drive you home... and you didn't look too good, so I drove you back... and helped you up to your room. Next thing I know you're asking me to leave. So, I decided to leave you alone with your videos. I hope you're okay..."

"My videos?" she asked. "but those were Sharmane's..."

"Well whose ever they were, I figured they were pretty standard for single women," he laughed.

"Charlie I want to apologize if I made an ass of myself..." she said.

"Nope, but you sure seemed interested in watching that one flick. You shoed me out remember..."

"I don't..."

"Well sometimes it happens," Charlie shrugged, taking a bite of his extremely messy cheese steak. "And I told you I didn't take advantage of women when they're drunk. So you joked that you were going to use the magic wand... and invited me to watch. And I got all hot and bothered watching you... and then you passed out, and I figured that's when I should leave."

"That definitely isn't me," she sighed.

"I figured not," he laughed. "Look, you're one crazy chick. Next time I figured we'd have a more usual date... say dinner at Tony Romans?"

"Sounds good," she said. "But how many drinks DID I have?"

"You seemed pretty sloshed actually," he said slowly. "Good thing you weren't with a total stranger..."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Thanks for looking out after me..."

"No problem," he said. "But you might not be so lucky next time..."

The next couple of days she saw him on and off campus. Communication betwixt Paul and she had ceased, and she felt bitter about this particular development. Whether email or phone call, none sufficed to elicit a response. Other then an annoying assistant who informed her that Paul was busy and unreachable.

This made Charlie all the more an interesting diversion. She enjoyed seeing Not Another Teen Movie with him, or spending time shooting pool at Brownies with a beer or two. Even one or two times at the dance club proved him pleasant enough company.

Yet, the question of lost time continued to nag her. Just what had happened between drinks that night they first met and waking up to an utter blank haunted her? She hated to think she was losing control of her mental faculties. Strangely too, not once had Charlie ever approached her in a sexual manner beyond a few passionate kisses good night. It wasn't like she hadn't desired it, yet she held some slim hope of keeping herself for Paul.

Over dinner at the Thai Pepper restaurant, she pondered these things, and failed to notice when Charlie asked, "Tryn..."

"Yes?"

"Sorry gal, but I have a phone call. You mind?"

"Sure, go ahead," she said, as he took his cell phone and retreated to the men's room for privacy. Prodding her entree with her fork, she debated whether she wanted to consume another bite of hot and spicy.

The last week was fun, a far cry from the rich opulence and privilege she had experienced with Paul. In comparison, this was a shot of comfortable normalcy. Most women would be having the time of their lives at this point, but she still centered her thoughts on Paul. He was hard to forget, and if he continued this silence, was it possible she could get on with her life with Charlie. If not Charlie, then perhaps that cute brother of Art's named Harvey. He seemed nice enough.

However, Charlie was the one asking her out to the movies, or clubbing, or for a walk along Boathouse row in downtown Philly. Penn's landing had been a good distraction earlier this Saturday, watching an outdoor concert of some local bands. When the young artists had taken the stage, she felt a pang of loss, missing Paul greatly that moment. Now they sat in a fancy Thai restaurant, eating a big dinner after their excursion.

Why did she feel empty? It was Paul's loss for not contacting her. Yet, something about this suddenly made her wonder if Charlie was hiding something. What man in his right mind would suddenly play the perfect gentleman alongside of enjoying dirty jokes and R rated movies? He seemed a strange dichotomy, bold, brave, and brazen with an air of nerdishness reserve. Was it an issue of control, where he would keep her at arm's length after their initial meeting? Did he really form his opinion of her that first night, why had he insisted on continuing to see her?

Finally, he returned posture slumped a bit as he settled down into his chair. Stuffing his cell phone into his jean pocket, he sighed.

"Chuck, what's wrong?" Trynia asked him. He fidgeted and looked at his watch."Huh...it's nothing, really. Just a call from a friend."

"Oh ok," she said, mystified by his change in demeanor. "You don't look too well..."

"Well, you SEEEE, it turns out.... I might need to leave a bit early," he said, looking more and more uncomfortable.

"Your friend have an emergency?" she asked, resting her hand on his. "If it's something urgent..."

"Yes.... YES, that's it. He needs me to run an errand for him...." he stammered quickly, shoveling the last bit of food into his mouth.

"Man, bummer," she sighed, as he pulled his hand way. A bit too quickly, she realized.

"Look, Trynia, I feel really, REALLY bad about this. I hope you don't mind..." he apologized, looking sad.

"Okay..." she said still puzzled. "So... I guess you'll be taking me home? If your friend has a problem, I can understand... we all have that happen..."

He sighed for a moment and looked at her, starting to say, "If you really don't mind...."

"Charlie, are you SURE everything's okay?" she asked him. "You look like you're about to lose your best friend!"

"Well, actually... I've had a nice time with you, Trynia, REALLY. And I just don't want you to think I'm some idiot," he sighed again. "But I really do need to go home."

Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him, a dozen suspicions suddenly entering her mind. Was he gay, did he have a girlfriend on the side? Was the relationship going too fast for him to control? Whatever it was, she had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Oh... okay... sure... "

"We can box that up, if you like" he nodded nervously at her chicken dinner.

"If that's what you want..." she nodded back, noticing how he fumbled with his fork.

"This really is a great place, don't you think?" he said, grabbing the check nervously.

"Sure..." she answered, taking her purse. She was sure it's something horrible, that he doesn't want to share with her.

After he paid the waiter, he handed her the doggy bag with her leftover dinner. They walked to his car, and he got in first, leaning over to unlock the door for her. I guess I got spoiled having Paul open the door for me, she reflected sadly.

Plunking the food onto her lap, she put her purse by her ankle and watched him shove a CD from the sleeve over his head into the CD slot. Saliva blurted on with their latest hard-hitting grind, and she leaned back in the cloth seats of the Dodge Neon. He pulled away from the parking meter and drove onto the main stretch of Lancaster Avenue. It wouldn't be long till he reached her apartment over Brownies in Ardmore.

"I don't get to this part of town much," he said, with a touch of nervousness. "They've really done a lot with it, don't you think?"

"Yes..." she commented, seeing how sad he appeared. The black framed glasses in striped bowling shirt and bell bottomed cargo pants were stylish enough, but she did wish he would shave the five o'clock shadow that accompanied the goatee on his chin. He rubbed his hand over the crop of buzz cut hair on his scalp, and turned onto a side street.

"I used to know a short cut from here to your place," he babbles, "Don't know if I STILL remember it."

"Well it's by brownies tavern in Ardmore..." she said. "You should know since you said you drove me home that first night!"

"Uh yeah," he laughed awkwardly. And smiled weakly as she gave him the directions.

"Charlie... you haven't said if you're into KISS or not..." she says slowly.

"KISS...oh.... The rock group?" he says, turning his head.

"Yes..." she said.

"Umm, they're OK. I see they're back together," he said absently.

"But you don't really know them do you?"

"Not really. I'm not into classic rock..."

"Okay... I did have a good time..."

"Tryn, I had a good time too, I did..." he says, then stopped. The phone rang again in his pocket, but he doesn't answer it.

"For a while," she laughed, trying to change the subject. "I know you wondered who my tattoo was of... when you saw me in that sundress..."

"Wrong number.... I've been getting wrong numbers," he said, not looking at her.

"That's it," she said, stopping with a hand on his thigh. He flinched a bit at her touch, and her eyes narrowed yet again in suspicion.

"Uh yeah..."

"Want to come up for a soda?"

"No..... Oh...I can't, I'm sorry. I hope you don't mind," he said nervously again, clicking the button on the CD for another track.

"See you... tomorrow?"

"OK...sure...." he says nervously as he turns the radio channel. "You have a good night, you hear?"

Sadly, she climbed out of the car, as he kept the engine running. Glancing back at him she said, "You too..."

"And Tryn?"

"Yes?"

"You really look nice tonight," he mumbled as he avoided eye contact.

"Thank you..." she said, closing the door and wondering WHAT is going on.

He pulled his dodge Neon away, leaving her to enter the lonely apartment with more questions then answers.

***

"So, you have a GOOOD time?" Sharmane smiled as she popped her head out of the kitchen.

"..." Trynia sighed, flopping down onto the sofa. "He had to leave... he says a friend had an emergency..."

"That good, huh?" Sharmane asked, striding out, while wiping her hands dry on a towel. Suds bore witness to the fact that she had been clearing out the formidable pile of dishes gathering in the sink.

"That's weird. He left a date because of a friend?" Trynia sighed. "We were having dinner one moment then next he gets a call, and it's see you later..."

"Did he tell why he had to leave? Something just doesn't add up," Sharmane shook her head. "I mean, wouldn't most guys tell their friends they'd see them AFTER the date?"

"That's what's so weird. He said it was an emergency... for a friend of his..." Trynia threw up her hands. "I don't know... but I smell a rat."

"Tryn...it may be nothing, but I've been hearing some things about Charlie."

"What?" Trynia queried, noticing the look of concern in Sharmane's face. "WHAT THINGS?"

"They might not be true, but again, they might."

"WHAT THINGS, Shar?" Trynia asked, grabbing her hand.

"Art told me...well...that he thought he MIGHT have a girlfriend." she watched Tryn.

"WAIT..." Trynia protested. "He BROKE up with HEATHER!"

"An on and off type girlfriend, but that they are still sort of in love."

"Then... maybe it was HER on the phone..." Trynia asked, anger rising in her stomach to replace the queasiness.

"Yeah, but from what I hear, she comes back periodically and they date, then break up, then date, then break up. It's TOTALLY unhealthy..."

"Aww shit..." Trynia started to cry, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "WHY ME?"

"Hey, LOOK! He's not worth crying over, is he?" Sharmane asked, draping her arm around Trynia and hugging her close. "His damn loss, in my book."

"He said I looked beautiful," she muttered, into Sharmane's shoulder. "I don't even so much as SLEEP with him and its goodbye?"

"Well, you DO, so there" she said, taking Trynia's cheek and patting it. "With all those high class threads Paul got you... Speaking of... I do have SOME good news."

"What?" Trynia asked. "What could possibly be that exciting?"

Sharmane grinned widely, "GUESS who called while you were out?"

"He... didn't... did he?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she brushed away tears.

"Yep. Your rock star lover boyfriend. And he said he'd call back after the show," Sharmane chuckled, nudging Trynia playfully.

"He did..." she muttered angrily. "Well I'll have a few things to say to HIM..."

"Which, since he's playing in LA is about 3:00 a.m. here," Sharmane said, looking at her watch. "He asked if that was too late to call. I told him I thought you could deal with it."

Trynia leapt up from the sofa, pacing the room. Sharmane's hopeful look evaporated into concern, wondering why on Earth Trynia would be upset at Paul calling? Hadn't she waited anxiously for so long?

"Trynia what's wrong, I thought you'd be excited!"

"I'm going to bed," Trynia muttered. "I don't CARE if he calls or not..."

Looking scandalized, Sharmane cried, "TRYNIA! Are you NUTS?"

Trynia raced down the hall to her room, and flung open the door widely. Sharmane caught hold of her arm and Trynia tugged away from her grasp, snapping, "I have had enough of this being jerked around by MEN."

"You're doing nothing of the sort! Grab yourself a beer and let's turn on the late night creep show," Sharmane said firmly.

"No!" Trynia returned. "I'm doing NO such thing. I'm going to BED. ALONE."

Snorting, Trynia entered the room, and slammed the door hard. She kicked off one shoe after the other, making sure they hit the Paul Stanley poster sitting there leaned against the wall. It fell over with a satisfying thump.

Still not hearing her, Sharmane banged on the door, shouting, "You don't want to sound out of it when he calls, do you?"

"He'll get over it!" Trynia shouted back. "Just like that asshole CHARLIE!"

"Besides.... If you go to sleep, the phone's going to scare the shit out of you at 3:00!" Sharmane continued. Trynia ripped off her dress and hurled it across the room after her shoes. Grabbing her nightshirt she tugged it on, and kicked back her bedsheets.

"He even said something about sending me some tickets for a KISS show. Of course, that was after I begged him for them." she teases, hoping Trynia would open the door.

"Just leave me alone!" Trynia shouted. "I don't CARE!"

"FRONT ROW, girl, and we wouldn't even have to show our tits."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Trynia wailed, unable to hold back the emotions broiling inside of her at that moment. She heard a loud sigh, and footsteps fading away.

"OK, you win. I'll be out here if you want to watch some TV..." Sharmane's voice drifted into the distance. Curled up, Trynia sobbed bitterly under the sheets, utterly miserable.

In the dead of sleep, the electronic shrilling cut in. Trynia's heart pounded as she sat bold upright. Again the phone shrilled, and she almost dropped it in her effort to pick it up. "Hello?" she muttered.

"Trynia?"

"Who is this?" she asked, still not registering the voice.

"Good evening.... Good morning.... Whatever..." he chortled in the phone. She could hear merry makers in the background from the concert. Paul must still be on a high from the show and hadn't showered yet, she guessed. "Soooo, how are you, baby?"

Turning over in the bed she sighed, "Tired."

"Damn, I woke you up, didn't I? Your roomie swore to me that you'd still be up."

"I was tired... that's all," she yawned. "I just... needed to sleep..."

She heard the light giggle of a woman or two laughing in the background. Paul's voice was muffled, and she guessed he must have put his hand over the phone and laughingly yelled something to them. Jovially says, "You miss me... like I miss you?"

Tears fell down her cheeks, and she angrily slammed down the phone. She could not be responsible for what she might say in haste. Somehow, the reality of that world made her want to shrink as far away as possible. The mere possibility of Paul suddenly calling her because he just happened to remember her was more then she could bear.

A few minutes later the phone again rang, and she picked it up, with a sad,

"Hello?"

"Tell me that wasn't on purpose, baby..." he said, sounding put out. "Because if you're mad because of THEM...(she hears more female laughter)...that's Ace's train of chicks for the night."

"I'm sorry... I just..." she stammered. "I've had a rotten day."

"Trynia, is something wrong?" Paul asked.

"Why didn't you call me before NOW?" she demanded, voice choked with anger. "I called you a MILLION TIMES!"

"Oh...well...God..." Paul suddenly stammered. "You called ME?"

"And NOTHING! Where the hell were you?" she sobbed, unable to stop the words that tumbled out of her mouth. "And now you CONVENIENTLY call me in the DEAD of night when you just so HAPPEN to remember I EXIST?"

"Tryn..." he says, helplessly. "I've just been really busy, baby, that's all. The pace of this tour has been NUTS."

Trynia finally lost her last shred of self-control and sobbed bitterly into the phone. A deep sigh came from Paul, and they sat for a few moments of shared silence. She heard Gene in the background walk by and mock Paul.

"Trynia... baby, I don't know WHAT is going on, but I swear... as God is my witness, I NEVER got any calls from you."

"What? But I called your secretary and..."

"I swear to you again, I thought YOU had forgotten about me!"

"Oh god..." she wailed, unable to form a coherent sentence. " I can't... I just..."

"Trynia, please believe me. I'm not a first class heel. I'm not," he sighed again. "And you know I care about you."

"I can't talk right now... I'm just too upset," she sobbed.

"At...at ME?" he said, helplessly.

"I'm sorry I can't..." she says, and trails off again.

"No... I just... oh god Paul..." she sobbed.

"I get the distinct impression here you're about ready to tell me to shove off," he said sadly. "Please, Tryn, I just wish you'd tell me."

"I... I... miss you..." she finally stammered. "And when I thought you didn't want anything more to do with me..."

"Tryn, I'm truly sorry. If I had KNOWN, you'd tried to call... I would have answered you then and there! Look... I miss you too. When are you coming out here to see me?"

"Please... forgive me," she sniffed, chest heaving with her cries.

'Honey, honestly. I've just been SOOO busy. I know that's no excuse and I'm paying for it now, but the road...it's nuts."

"I didn't think... you still... wanted me," she got out, wiping her eyes. "I guess... I just... lost it for a moment..."

"Of COURSE, I do." he said firmly. Her eyes darted over to the picture of her and Charlie that was taken at a fun photo place. Picking it up, she rips it in two.

"My mom...she flew out here, and dad too. That's part of my excuse of why I haven't called you. We've been going out to dinner each night and...." he trailed off. She gasped, realizing he must have heard the ripping photo in the intervening silence.

"You do something, love?"

"Just ripping up... some junk mail," she lied. "Nothing important..."

"At 3:00 a.m.? While you were sound asleep?"

"I... a friend pissed me off today, Paul." she said helplessly. "And I was tearing up a picture of them. It isn't you."

"Wow, remind me never to piss you off" he teased. "Oh...ooops...I think I already did. Something you want to talk about?"

"No. It's ancient history," she said.

"Hey, umm, look, I sort of have made a new friend, apparently" he chuckled.

"I... well... uh..." she said. "This person I'm mad at... well, they did something really MEAN to one of my friends... And I hate his GUTS for it... He was dating my friend, and well he didn't tell her he had a GIRLFRIEND already..."

"Well, that's certainly a problem" he said carefully. "Assuming, of course, there was supposed to be some kind of exclusive relationship."

"She was going through a breakup, and well he went to bed with her, and they dated for a whole week..." said Trynia, wondering if he saw through her flimsy excuse. "She was sure he was available, and the guy she was with... well he tended to see other girls on the side, and she hardly ever saw him... So, I... and someone else fixed them up. It was great, till his ex called, wanting him back, and pretty much told her to have a nice life..."

"If I didn't know you better, I would think you were talking about Terri and me."

"Paul NO! That's not it! I THOUGHT...oh, well, never mind."

"Thank god! But love, you know that what that asshole did doesn't reflect on YOU. It wasn't your fault he wasn't honest. Besides, honey, I meant what I said. I really want to get you out here. I MISS you, if you know what I mean" he whispered into the phone.

"I miss you so much..." she started to cry again, voice quivering, "Damn... I can't stop. Crying..."

He sighed again, in sympathy, "Sweetie... There's not ANY time you can take away from school to come down here, even for a weekend?"

"I don't know..." she sighed back.

"Besides you can meet my stalker." he chuckled.

"Wait... is THAT why you didn't call?" she asked. "Maybe your aid thought I was the stalker!"

"Wait... that could be...""Cause I kept leaving messages for you... through Cammy... your secretary... Maybe that's why... you never got my calls?" she asked, putting 2 and 2 together. "Cammy never gave you my messages did she?"

"Never, Tryn. I never got one single message from you. I think it was because of the stalker... there's this girl..." he began. "She started following us on the tour, which is nothing unusual, but somehow she ended up with my cell number and she calls it about 50 times a day. And she knows what time I eat breakfast, so I have to eat in my room."

"Oh god I'm so sorry...I'm sorry to be such a crybaby," she apologized. "Then it wasn't you not wanting to call me..."

He smiled, "She even asked me if we could do it just ONE time so she could have my baby. I tell you, she's out there."

"I wouldn't mind doing it with you to have your baby," she teased, laughing a bit.

"But I think her stay with us will be ending soon." he laughed loudly. "One of the roadies told me she's quickly running out of money. Wait... Me? A baby at MY age?"

"I would think you'd make a wonderful father," she teased, then glanced down at the tourbook as she fumbled to switch the light on. "But Paul, are you anywhere NEAR here... this coming weekend? I see that you... are going to be in Atlanta maybe..."

"You've been following up on me" he teased. "Can I take this to mean you'd like to come along?"

"I... well don't have to work this weekend," she said slowly.

"We stay in a NICE hotel in Atlanta and hub to the various shows from there. VERY exclusive" he said.

"I think I could persuade... my professor that I need to spend the weekend with my boyfriend. And I can get a flight out from Philly... but the tickets... will be outrageous..."

"Will someone be home tomorrow? I'll have my assistant air express the tickets out? BOTH concert and airline" he said.

"Yes..." she said. "Shar will be here... I'll tell her."

"Tell her to expect them, then," Paul urged. "I'll make sure you have first class all the way. And Chris will meet you at the airport."

"I will,' she said, scribbling the note to Sharmane.

"Wear something sexy" he teased. "I'll have them set you up with a chair in the photo pit."

"I can't wait..."

"Away from the wild animals on the floooah," he bantered, giving her the N Y accent.

"God I can't wait to see you," she whispered, reaching for the jewelry box where she had placed his promise ring.

"I'm right with you, sweetheart" he whispered too.

"I wish I could touch you..."

"Now THAT is the best promise I've heard all night" he purred. "Sure you wouldn't mind that I'm all hot and sweaty?"

"Just hold you... and touch you," she added.

"I think I twisted my frigging ankle a little bit."

"I wouldn't care..." she whispered.

"Would be nice to have someone to massage it..."

"I'll rub it... and make it better lover," she whispered, and takes the note to put outside Sharmane's door.

"You WILL?" he teased. "What else would you rub and make better?"

"ALLL over,' she whispered back. A pang of guilt crosses her and she falls silent again.

"Mmmmmmmmm, I've missed you and I've been SUCH a good boy. Besides, you bad girl, you can't get me hard right now. I've got to take mom to Ponderosa." he laughed.

"Well that's a good boy,' she added slowly. "Honey, I'll let you go so you can play good son."

"Oh.... Well...OK...." he said, searching the crowd for Chris. 'I'm going to tell her about you, you know..."

"Wait..." she gasped. "Are you... sure?"

"Why? You think I shouldn't?"

"No... I just... don't want to make any problems..." she started, then said, "Oh never mind... forget I said anything."

"Chris!" he shouted loudly, "You're picking up Trynia at the airport this weekend in Atlanta. Oh, by the way, I'm registered at the hotel under the name David King. Just in case my good friend REBECCA decides to want to hunt me down again."

"All right," she laughed. "I'll be s rue to look you up. And down..."

"Now WHAT did I say about you being a bad girl?" he teasingly scolded. "You're going to explain this one to mom."

"My mom or yours?"

He chuckled, "Mine, because Ponderosa looms large. Bring something sexy, And some nice sex toys."

"Paul," she sighed, glancing at the infamous vibrator she had placed into a plastic bag.

"Tryn...you sure you're OK?"

"Yes..." she said slowly.

"I mean, if I'm coming on too strong, tell me," he said with careful concern. "Because I'll back off!"

"I'm just... emotionally exhausted... a lot... and No... Please don't' back off. I just... miss you that's all."

"I miss you too.... You know that now, right?" he answered sincerely.

"Absolutely... and Paul..."

"Yep?"

"I uh... well... I love you... baby..." she whispered.

"Well.... I love you too," he said, a bit nervously.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that," she whispered.

"PAULLL!" cried a loud female voice into the background.

"Oh SHIT!" Paul groaned.

"Is that the stalker?" Trynia asked.

"Yeah, hang on."

"Tell her you're talking to your girlfriend," said Trynia.

"REBECCA!" she heard him yell. "Do you even have a f***cking pass to be back here?"**

Back in Alabama, Paul was facing a grabby woman in a tight rubber dress, her heavily made-up face and cheap perfume too close for comfort. She sidled up to him, and he backed away.

"WHO gave it to you?" he demanded. Suddenly Chris managed to grab her arms and hold her.

"Get this f***cking psycho out of here" he snarled. "I can't even talk to my girlfriend in peace. Chris, you tell Andre YET AGAIN, I don't want her ass backstage. I don't care WHO gave her the damn pass. I don't want her back here, or it's Andre's ass. Get it?"

"Sure thing Paul," said Chris, hauling Rebecca out of the way. Jamming her spiked-heeled shoe on his foot, she broke free. Her hands ripped the phone from Paul's hands as she screamed to him, "I LOVE YOU!"

Before he could stop her, she yelled into the phone, "He's MINE!"

"Oh want to bet?" Trynia asked, wondering WHOM this psycho is. "Let me tell you, if you bother him again, you'll regret it..."

Chris grabbed her again, and Paul tore the phone away. He elbowed her rudely aside and said quickly into the phone, angrily, "Tryn.... Hang on...."

Andre joined Chris in restraining Rebecca, both of them picking her up bodily and dragging her out through the backstage with them. As she hollered and screamed, Andre shouted, "Rebecca, you're cut OFF, do you understand? No more shows. No more passes. No more roadies. If anyone is seen with you, I'll have their f**cking jobs. GO HOME!"

Paul rubbed his temples and chuckled weakly into the phone. Andre pushed her out into the alley behind the theatre, and slammed shut the back door. Laughing he sighed, "Life on the road."

"You know what I told her?" Trynia laughed. "I told her to leave you alone, or face the consequences..."

"Something that pissed her off, that's for sure." he smiled, leaning against the wall. He rubbed his arm where three red scratches had formed from her claws seizing him during the lovegun stage.

"Did she hurt you, lover?" Trynia asked.

"Hell, yeah, because she knows I don't want anyone else.'

"Ahhhh, I'm used to it," he inspected him arm. "I just can't deal with people who won't give me my privacy.... My space."