I broke the 2nd episode into 2 chapters... it got kinda long. Here's the first half.

/

Jimmy

It's been five days, ten unanswered phone calls (this girl does NOT take a hint) and nearly as many arguments with Kyle. Apparently Karen has been calling him too. She's won him over. He's too trusting sometimes. Though, I guess that has worked in my favor in the past...

I shake my head to clear it.

I arrive at work and see Karen sitting on the stoop. A small part of me, that I'll deny forever, is glad to see her. The rest of me is wondering about this girl who has been blowing up my phone all week. What's her deal?

I don't do complicated and I won't be used. But now that she's taken to stalking me in person, I guess I should talk to her.

I try to get her attention, but she's lost in her own world. I call out again, but it comes out sharper than I intended. She starts at the sound.

I lean against the pillar, amused by this- I'm amused by the entire situation really.

"Hey, you're here!" She's surprised that I'm at my own place of business?

"Uh… I work here." I remind her drily.

"Right. Uh, sorry to ambush you." She seems flustered. I watch her stumble through an unnecessary introduction. Does she really think I don't know who she is? She left me ten voicemails and phone stalked my roommate for a week.

"Um… I left you a few messages but you never called back…"

Ah, the 'why haven't you called me'. I'm familiar with this conversation, but usually for different reasons.

"Girls usually just call to yell at me, so…" I deadpan. She tilts her head briefly to the side as if to say, 'I could see that.'

She shakes her head, "Well, that's not what I was calling to do. I was hoping I could talk to you about your music." Even though I know what she wants, I'm taken aback by her directness. We are not discussing this. Period.

I play dumb. "My what?" Unconsciously, I feel myself stand a little straighter and fold my arms across my chest. I fight to keep my smile in place.

She's undeterred. She continues, "Your friend said you guys were writing a musical. I mean, I'd love to hear more."

I try denial. "There's nothing to hear. I don't-" I shake my head. "I don't write anything." I do a mental eye roll- that was convincing, Jimmy.

Unsurprisingly, she's not buying it. "So, the song you played after closing, that wasn't yours?" Her voice drips sarcasm as she continues, "Your friend just lied when he said it was from your musical?"

She's kidding right? I can't help but laugh. Who does this girl think she is? That she has some kind of right to my music because she heard me play a song?

I try a new tactic- distraction. "Are you always like this?"

"Like what?" She's confused. Good.

I laugh, "Uptight. I mean, if you stop clenching your jaw like that, you could actually be cute." I chuckle as she clenches her jaw harder at my assessment. I move closer to her, trying to further distract her from her original objective, "Relax."

She touches her jaw, offended. "I don't clench my jaw, that's really rude." She clenches it harder still. She's gonna crack a tooth if she keeps this up.

"Ok," I laugh again. "Uh, you're doing it again." I reach out to stop her, I can't help it. But I pull back at the look on her face- the one that tells me that moving closer might result in bodily harm.

I pause and lower my hand. It's fun to goad her, but I'm not interested in getting slapped this early in the morning.

Time for the final nail.

I know she'll refuse, but I'm hoping it will end this conversation- and any future attempts at repeating it, "You know, my shift's over at five- if you wanna hang out?" My innuendo doesn't go unnoticed.

"No. I don't want to hang out. I just want to- You know what, forget it."

She storms off. Success! Man her buttons are easy to push.

"See ya!" I call out after her.

I linger on the steps, still amused. Idly, I wonder if the last few days really happened. I've had girls chase me before me, but never like this.

Kyle comes out to see what's keeping me. He sees Karen, already a block away. "Hey, was that Karen Cartwright?"

"No idea." I hope it came across as 'I don't care.'

I can't keep myself from watching Karen walk away, which offers the double bonus that I can avoid Kyle's eyes. Kyle seems to buy my dumb act. He still doesn't know that I met Karen the day before he did.

Why does she bug me so much?

Why do I let her?

Kyle tries to get my attention. "SHE'S the girl I told you about, the one who was here the other night." Yeah, the one blowing up my phone- I got that message… and the other nine… "She's a big deal."

No kidding, just ask her.

He moves in front of me, blocking my view and meeting my eyes. He won't let me look away any longer. "She could help us."

I look him right in the eye when I remind him, "We do it on our own. We don't need anyone's help." I put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him- and to move him out of my way, "Move it, I'm late."

/

Karen

What a jerk! All I wanted was to know more about his musical. What was his problem? I've been singing his song in my head all week. I can't stop.

Did he SERIOUSLY hit on me again after insulting me? Does that actually work on girls?

If I'm honest though, I was really hoping that the amazingly talented, good looking, irritatingly arrogant bartender would turn out to be someone worth a second chance. Too bad that doesn't seem to be the case.

I think of him that night in the restaurant, singing from his soul. I do not think about his strong hands that moved so confidently across the piano keys or how his dark hair begs for someone's fingers to comb through it. I don't think about those things- and when I do I remind myself that he's also a jerk.

Instead of thinking about Jimmy, I call Derek. But, I get his voicemail. "Derek, it's me. I wanted to let you know I finally got in touch with that composer-"

I'm interrupted by the sound of footsteps and a voice behind me, "Hey, Karen! Wait up!"

I glance over my shoulder to see a slightly out of breath Kyle. "I gotta call you back," I hang up and turn to face Kyle. "Hey."

"Hey, look, I'm sorry about whatever he said to you back there." I wonder if Kyle ever gets tired of apologizing for Jimmy.

"That guy's your friend right? …Why exactly?" The two couldn't be more different.

His expression rueful, he tries to explain, "I know. He's complicated. But he's a really good guy once you get to know him and an amazing composer. He's just really protective of our stuff."

"Well, I wanted to hear more, play it for my friend Derek… see what he thought…"

Kyle cuts me off in his eagerness, "Derek… as in Derek Wills? …Like THE Derek Wills? He's…"

This time, I cut him off "…irrelevant to this conversation since your friend clearly isn't interested." Wow, sound snobbier, Karen…

He shakes his head, "Yes he is," he assures me. "He just doesn't know it yet. And so am I. Look, can you meet me in a couple hours when I'm done with my shift? There's something I want to show you." His conviction is hard to ignore, so I agree.

He turns to go back to work and I head to another audition.

/

A few hours later, I'm sitting at an outdoor table in Times Square with Kyle, looking at a collection napkins, menus and bar tickets with sporadic groupings of music notes and nearly illegible writing scrawled on them. Either a four year old or a drunk wrote this. "This is… this is what you wanted to show me?"

Surely this isn't it. I was expecting a script or manuscript pages or… not this. Is that food stuck to this one? I wipe my finger discreetly on my napkin.

Kyle launches into an explanation, "He doesn't write anything down really, except occasionally when he's wasted." Ah ha, door number two. "Uh, this one is particularly amazing," he continues, either ignoring or ignorant of my skepticism, "He doesn't know I saved it. But seriously, read the lyrics- I think it starts on the cocktail menu?" He paws through mess on the table and presses the menu in question into my hand, turning it to the correct side.

He's trying so hard, but this isn't what I was hoping for. "I don't understand, do you guys have a musical or not?"

"We do!" Kyle assures me. "We're still working on it, but most of the songs ARE written."

A thought occurs to me, "Does your friend even know you're here?" Why do I keep calling him that? Why don't I just say Jimmy? I know his name.

Kyle freezes, his expression pleading. That gives me my answer.

I put the menu on the table, "Look, I just came from a Clearasil audition and then I found out that the one thing I was looking forward to today was cancelled." I take a breath, "You can understand, I hope, that I was hoping to get involved with something real. This... obviously isn't it." I get up to leave. "Let me know if it ever comes together, ok?" I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, there are no shortcuts.

Kyle's final plea stops me, "Find someone to play this for you." He picks up the menu again, "and if you like it, or want to hear more, come to our place tonight." He turns it over and scribbles an address on it. "We're having some people over." He continues, "Maybe if you stop by and got to know Jimmy a little better he'd let his guard down, play you some stuff." He hands me the menu, "Think about it."

I nod before turning to head home. Out of the corner of my eye I see Kyle carefully reordering the scraps of paper left on the table.

/

Ana and I invited Bobby and Jessica over for dinner. We sit around the coffee table, eating Chinese while I tell them about Jimmy, about his song and about Kyle. Ana asks to see the menu.

She sits down at the keyboard and begins to play. Even in the jumbled form we have, we're blown away by it. It's beautiful.

Bobby and Jessica rave, "Wow, he's crazy good." "Like Jonathan Larson good." "Yes." "Maybe they're writing the next "Rent".

Their comments validate my pseudo-obsession with this guy. "I know. It's amazing. I mean, I'm not crazy for stalking this guy, right?"

Despite his arrogance and his obnoxious comments, his music reaches a part of me and it won't let go. I catch myself humming "Broadway Here I Come" all the time, picturing him that night in the restaurant. I don't want to, but I can't stop.

Oh no... I think I've got a crush on this guy. I feel like a teenager as the realization hits me. I will NOT fall for a jerk.

'But maybe he's not a jerk, maybe it's an act- Kyle said he's a good guy', the little voice whispers.

'Kyle's in love with him- of course he'd think that,' I remind the little voice.

My friends pull me out of my head. "I'm ready to stalk him. Is he straight? He can't be straight, I mean, it's musical theater." I roll my eyes at Bobby. Ana laughs.

"It doesn't matter if he is or he isn't- he's clearly not interested in me. He called me uptight."

"Ok…" Bobby starts slowly, "I say this with love, but you DID sound a little uptight just now." Jessica nods.

I need new friends.

Ana laughs, "You guys! Give her a break! She's just out of a three year relationship. She's a little bit rusty. She doesn't realize when a guy is hitting on her."

I roll my eyes at Ana. I've been doing that a lot this week. "You guys are missing the point. I just want to hear the rest of his songs. I just have to figure out how." I sit back in my chair, trying to come up with a new plan.

"I can think of one way…" Bobby begins.

I turn my head to look at him, "I knew you were going to say that." I resist the urge to stick my tongue out.

Ana taunts me in song, and Bobby and Jessica agree that she is NOT writing the next "Rent".

I sit up, grinning. "No, she isn't, but she just gave me a better idea…"

/

Jimmy

Kyle and I are getting ready for the party- and by getting ready I mean throwing away the obvious trash and stocking the fridge and coolers with beer.

"I talked with Karen today," Kyle starts. He watches me to gauge my reaction.

"Why?" I'm not surprised.

He seems relieved that I'm not mad, and he ignores the question. Which is fine, I already know the answer. "I told her about the party tonight."

"Why?" I ask again. "Do you really think she's the 'party in Greenpoint' type?" I laugh as I imagine her getting her little shoes dirty. "I bet she doesn't even know where it is. She'll be lost, wandering around Brooklyn forever and Broadway will be denied its newest star. Tragic." I resist the urge to put my hand on my forehead dramatically. "And, it will be All. Your. Fault." I lay the sarcasm on thick as I poke him in the arm, punctuating each word.

Despite her arrogance and the fact that she's really pushy, I half hope she shows up. Something about her won't let me go. Maybe if she comes tonight and has a drink or two she'll loosen up. Maybe she's not so bad once you get to know her.

Kyle shrugs me off, "Whatever Jimmy. If she shows up, play nice."

I ignore that and finish getting ready for the party. Maybe I should change my shirt… just in case.

/

Karen

The party is in full swing when we arrive.

Jessica and Bobby are not impressed. Since we got off the subway their running commentary has ranged from amused to snarky- at times bordering on snide. Clearly they are not familiar with Brooklyn. The apartment actually isn't that bad.

Ana looks around, looking for the mysterious Jimmy. I'm searching for him myself; after all, we're not here for the beer.

Bobby stops mid-quip when he sees Kyle across the room. "Who is that?"

I grab for his arm. "That's Kyle, don't..." He disappears into the crowd before I can stop him.

Any worries about Bobby's intentions toward Kyle are quickly erased because just then I spot Jimmy. I nudge Jessica and point him out to Ana. He's standing in the kitchen wearing a red flannel shirt, comparing beer and laughing with another guy. Since for once I'm not annoyed that he's smirking at me, I'm able to recognize that he's got a nice smile. And he has dimples. Cute.

Ana nods appreciatively and Jessica tilts her head as she checks him out. I blush, but I'm glad they agree. I'm still not sure that I want anything more than to hear his music. But, there is no denying he's pretty hot.

"What are you waiting for? Go say hi!" Ana nudges me toward the kitchen.

"Ok." Geez, we just got here. I begin to make my way through the crowd.

"Don't be uptight!" Ana calls. I ignore her as I make my way through the crowd.

I really need new friends.

I reach the kitchen and stand across the island from Jimmy. "Hey!" I smile at him, "Nice place." Ok, that may be an exaggeration… It's a converted industrial space. Worse, it came out forced. Breathe.

I take another step closer, coming around the side of the island.

"Thanks." He says as he looks me up and down, checking me out. Obvious much?

"Nice shoe," he comments with a grin.

What?

I look down. I have trash attached to my shoe. Oh my God. How embarrassing.

At least it's not toilet paper… I bend down quickly and remove it.

Ew! It's sticky- wait, did I just say that out loud?

Be. Cool.

I force a laugh as I toss the trash to the side quickly. I look up and my hair sticks to my lip gloss.

Awesome.

I pull the hair off my mouth and lean against the island. Time to start over. I smile at him, trying to think of something to say.

He breaks the ice for me. "Kyle said he invited you. I said you didn't know where Brooklyn was." He smirks as if laughing at a private joke.

There it is, the arrogance, the feeling that he's always laughing at me. But, I guess I deserve that. I am sort of stalking him.

I won't let him upset me tonight. I WILL hear his music.

I return his arrogance with some of my own. "I hate to rock your world, but I used to live in Brooklyn." Did I just use the phrase 'rock your world'? Really, Karen?

He quirks his eyebrow, his eyes dancing, "You are rocking my world." Ok, he's flirting. I can do this.

"My first apartment was in Fort Green, FYI. Did it ever occur to you that I might be a little cooler than you think?" Uh, Karen, I'm guessing if you have to tell someone you're cool, then you probably aren't…

He smiles around his bottle and his eyes crinkle as he takes a drink of his beer, probably so he won't laugh out loud.

He may have let the first slide, but he calls me on my second dork-ism. "Well, you just said FYI, so… no." We both laugh. Man I suck at playing it cool.

Beer. Beer will help.

Trying to sound flirtatious, I ask, "So, what does a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?"

He turns to check the cooler on the floor. It's empty.

He looks across the room and yells, "Ky! We need some more brew!" The crowd parts and I can see Bobby and Kyle standing together.

He smiles at me, "That."

He looks at his beer for a moment, then he holds it out, offering it to me. "You can have mine for now." He must have decided I needed it more than he did.

Ready to prove I'm not uptight, I take it and quickly take a drink. He looks impressed.

Maybe.

"Want to sit down?" he offers.

/

We've been talking for a while and for once I don't feel like slapping him every time he opens his mouth. He's flirty and funny and… nice. I'm starting to think Kyle might be right, he may be an okay guy when you get to know him. And damn, he's cute.

But it's getting late and I'm no closer to hearing his songs.

I'm sitting with my legs tucked underneath me, facing Jimmy. He's turned his body so that he's facing me, arm stretched along the back of the couch, with his right knee tucked up, nearly touching mine.

I use the lighter mood to segue into the primary reason for coming- though now I'm really glad I did come, even if I don't get to hear more of his songs.

I turn the conversation toward music, "I like The Strokes, do you?"

He tilts his head, laughing, "Yeah, I like The Strokes… too… when I was like fifteen." This from the guy who still wears flannel shirts open over a t-shirt. What is this, 1995?

"Ha," I laugh. "You know what you are?" I poke him in the chest, "A snob."

"Me? I'm a snob?" he looks surprised, but recovers quickly- as usual. "At least I'm not uptight," he challenges.

Tonight, it's funny. "No, no. Don't change the subject. You heard me- Snob. Deal with it." We each point at each other in mock accusation and laugh. He has a nice laugh.

He leans back against the couch, and he looks… content. Relaxed. This is a side I've never seen of him. We've both been so defensive around each other since we met.

"So, is that the piano you don't play?" I gesture with my beer to where Jessica and Ana are sitting.

He looks over at it, "Yeah, I play a little. Whatever." He glances at me, "When I'm in the mood." His response is a little wary, but he's still smiling. His quip about having to be 'in the mood' gives me an in for my plan.

I drop my voice and suggestively hint, "Well, I sing a little… when I'm in the mood." This gets his attention.

"Oh, I bet you do." He turns back to me, voice husky and hazel eyes dark as he asks, "So, how will I know if you're in the mood?" His thumb strokes my shoulder and I get tingles at the contact.

His touch is threatening to derail my plan, but I pretend I don't notice. I lay it on thick, and with overdone innocence I lean closer as I list the symptoms that may indicate that I'm about to sing.

"Well, it would be very obvious. I might, like, look around." I demonstrate. "Figure out what the vibe is."

He's amused, and intrigued. "K," he chuckles.

"Then I might just, stand up. And stretch. Warm up a bit," I demonstrate again.

He laughs. "I think I get the picture."

I bet you do. His eyes don't leave my body as I stretch in front of him.

To regain his attention upward I settle on the arm next to him and lean in close. It works. He looks up at me. "And then, I might just finish my drink. Whoops, I already did." I shake the bottle to demonstrate. There's a tinkling noise. "Kinda." I take the last drink and I upend it to prove that it's empty- spilling the last of it on Jimmy. "Oops!" Good thing I'm a little buzzed- I'm not as embarrassed as I would be otherwise. We both laugh.

I lean in closer again, "And probably just…" I lean closer still, our faces only about a foot apart, "sing a song."

I start to sing, softly at first, holding his eyes with mine. I sing the song Kyle brought me, the beautiful melody this handsome composer wrote.

Right on cue, Ana begins playing. I stand up. But, to ensure I keep his attention, my hand trails down his arm as I stand. I can feel the hard muscles beneath his shirt. I look behind me to smile at Ana in thanks for her help with my plan.

/

Jimmy

When she leans down, her hair falls around my face and I can smell her shampoo. It's intoxicating. I'm paralyzed by her nearness, by her smile. And then… then she begins to sing, tentatively at first, but her voice quickly becomes stronger.

I'm being serenaded. This is a first.

The understatement of the decade may be that she 'sings a little.' Her voice captivates me with its effortless beauty. I can't take my eyes off her.

I'm like that snake held captive by the charmer. I'm mesmerized by her eyes, her face, her voice.

I'm not sure if it was her touch as she stood, the loss of eye contact as she looked behind her at her friends, the loss of her nearness, or the piano that breaks the spell, but I start to recognize the words of her song.

Those are MY words.

That's MY song they're playing.

I can feel the anger rising in me. They stole my song! I look around and realize everyone is staring. Not only did they steal my song, they're performing it in front of other people. Are you KIDDING me? I'm too pissed to even be embarrassed.

Strangely, my anger is at war with other, less familiar emotions as I watch her sing. She's lost in the song and she's beautiful. Her face is rapturous as she throws her head back, raising her arms and belting out the words I wrote. It's every dream come true wrapped up in the nightmare of betrayal.

There it is. I know who's really to blame for this. Kyle.

Who else could have given it to her? Not that she's guiltless.

Is this the only reason she came here tonight? All the flirting- it meant nothing. She's not into me. She just wants my songs. I've heard of art imitating life, but this is life imitating art. I'm living my musical.

I turn my head and see Kyle standing in the doorway. My glare meets his eyes and his smile fades. He was ENJOYING this! Was this his idea?

I get up from the couch and she stops singing. As I storm out I pause long enough to tell Kyle what I thought about this little stunt.