I didn’t remember the last time I actually slept through the night easily. If it wasn’t one of my kids keeping me up, it was just my own mind not allowing me to rest. Something, I didn’t quite know what, was nagging at my mind lately. Kate seemed to sense it, but she didn’t say anything. As long as I wasn’t picking fights with her, then she just assumed it wasn’t any of her business, I supposed.

Sometimes it was easier when the two of us just didn’t talk at all, anyway. That was part of why I had put in my art studio in the garage. Kate didn’t object to it, since it meant I wouldn’t be cluttering up the main house with my art projects and splattering paint all over her precious carpet. The studio became my little escape when the two of us were fighting, or like right now, barely speaking.

On this particular night, though, none of my paintings were turning out like I wanted. Everything I tried looked like crap and I had to stop before I got too frustrated and put my fist through one of the canvases. I dug one of my pipes out of its hiding place in a box full of paint, and lit it up. After a few hits, I felt a little more relaxed. I decided to pull out my laptop and go online for a while, hoping a little mindless internet surfing would ease my mind even further. Maybe I was feeling nostalgic for my teen years or something, but somehow I found myself in a chat room.

Apparently, no one uses chat rooms anymore – just me and one other person, I guess.

I sighed as I settled into my chair and opened my browser. It’d been a long, hard day of rehearsing, and all I wanted to do was zone out online for a while, and eventually go to sleep. Nothing all that interesting popped up, besides the usual emails and PMs, so before long I was running out of things to do. I looked at the clock, surprised at how early it was. Man, I have no life, I thought to myself, laughing. It was true. All my time was spent either with my family or my band; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked to someone whose last name wasn’t Hanson.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have friends; there were Will and Demetrius, Muff, Ashley… I realized that all the “friends” I could name were also involved with the band. Damn it, I really do have no life. As I stared at the computer screen, I felt a new determination. I was young, charming, witty; people loved me. So why couldn’t I make a new friend? I opened a new tab, and began searching for a chatroom that interested me. I found a music-related room, and clicked to join it; I stopped when asked for a username.

I wanted to come up with something original, but cool, but not anything that would clue people in to my real identity. It wasn’t that I wanted to be someone else, but I figured it would be easier to chat with someone if they didn’t know my celebrity status. Finally settling on x.nothing.gold.can.stay.x, I got into the room. Only to find it empty, except for one other person. Shrugging my shoulders, I clicked the text box; I didn’t know what to expect, but I was bored enough to talk to just about anyone.

When I logged out of the chat room and turned my laptop off, my hands were shaking. It made my stomach turn a little to think about saying and doing all of that with another guy. I mean, he could have been anyone, but he was definitely a he. I gave him the benefit of the doubt since I had stupidly assumed he was a girl – a guy named Jordan flirting with me? It just seemed too weird – and he didn’t back off. He kept right on flirting with me. There was something so different about it, in a good way. It was so flattering, somehow, that some random guy behind a computer screen found something in me that attracted him.

And, even though I’m ashamed to admit it, it turned me on. A lot.

I haven’t imagined being with a guy like that for a long time, and it was never more than an idle fantasy – the sort of thing you imagine, but don’t really see yourself ever following through on. I wasn’t into guys. At least, I didn’t think I was. But this was just an online thing; it didn’t have to mean anything about who I really was.

I took a deep breath, running a shaking hand through my hair, before grabbing some tissues to clean up. I may have exaggerated my activities (I only have two hands, after all), but I hadn’t been lying when I told “pippin” how amazing that had been. I hadn’t cybered in years, but even back then, it had never been so… satisfying. The images behind my eyes had driven me almost blind with need, and when it reached its peak, I’d had to bite back a scream.

I hadn’t lied about the crush, either. There was something about this guy I liked, in between the musical taste, the modesty, and the sense of humor. It had felt so good to talk to someone, but finding someone who seemed to understand, that made it even better. Strange as it felt, I really felt like I could be honest with him, so much more than with anyone else I knew. Maybe it was just the anonymity of online, but I wasn’t so sure.

As I collapsed into bed beside my soundly-sleeping wife, I stared at the ceiling, replaying the conversation in my head. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel quite so alone. I didn’t care how needy I sounded; I knew I wanted to talk to him again, and I could hardly wait til the next time. I didn’t try to wipe the grin from my lips as I drifted into a very sweet dream, filled with Led Zeppelin, purrs, and a pair of deep brown eyes.