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Four months later

"Okay, remind me again WHY I am watching this?" Nick asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Because your brother's on silly! The world hadn't lived until they had seen and Joe Jonas cook. If I remember you weren't complaining the last time he made you dinner."

I had him there.

The view on the TV was a studio audience, and then the camera went in for a close-up of a woman in her mid-30s, Rachel Ray.

"Our next guest is the one third of the amazingly popular Jonas Brothers and besides singing and acting he has a few more tricks up his sleeve, please welcome Joe Jonas."

Cue the screams and the applause as Joe walking out on stage smiling and waving looking very handsome in a sleek silver suit.

"How are you?" Rachel asked.

Joe nodded, sitting down, "I'm good."

"Now I know all this stuff about you, you sing, act and now I'm hearing you cook." She looked impressed.

"That's right," Joe replied, "I started messing around a few years ago during one of our world tours started throwing stuff together and learning styles and picking things up where I could, even picked up a few things when we were over in Europe."

Rachel's eyebrows rose and she looked to the audience for approval, and she got it in the form of ear shattering applause.

"You even set up a kitchen in your bathroom is that correct?"

I heard Nick snicker from somewhere behind me.

Joe laughed as pictures of him wearing an apron and set up in a small cramped space popped up on one of the screens.

"We were in Canada and I was just trying things out there wasn't any other space-there was another bathroom though."

They cut for a commercial break then. When they came back they were showing Joe and Rachel set up in the studio kitchen.

Joe looked out of place beside her, he'd taken off his suit jacket and had his dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, off-the-cuff, typical Joe. They were making some sort of pasta dish, I didn't catch the name.

"Ever made anything like this?" Rachel asked.

Joe laughed shortly. "I can make a decent lasagna and I pull recipes off the Internet, but other than that..." he shrugs. "I mean my family is Italian on my mothers side so..." Another shrug.

I watched him after that, the way he flayed and sliced a couple of chicken breasts, while Rachel put pasta in boiling water. His hands were sure and steady and he looked comfortable, as comfortable as he did while he was on stage. It was like Nick and his Broadway acting he was just another side of him people had to get used to.

"Look," Rachel commented to the audience, "Joe Jonas can cook how many girls will love that!" There was a cheer and a screamer to from one section of the audience, which I'm sure was filled with Jonas fans.

Joe looked up at the camera and grinned, he looked slightly embarrassed that people were praising his other skills other than something music related.


I was impressed at how well Joe could keep up, he was a quick study and he moved effortlessly, like he did on stage as surefooted with a knife in his hand as a microphone.

Finally the meal was complete and it sat on the counter on a plate steaming pasta and vegetables I'm sure smelled heavenly.

"Here, you try it." Rachel encouraged, and I watched as Joe plunged a fork into the plate of pasta twisted in some onto a fork and put it into his mouth. As he swallowed there was a small smile on his face, a satisfied smile.

I turned the TV off at that, there was some actor or actress on that I didn't even know the name of (despite living in LA for almost 2 years). I was proud of Joe I really was that he was spreading his wings and doing something different, like Nick had with his solo career.

 Demi and I made the decision to meet up-her place not mine, which was several hours north of LA. Despite what others and the fans I was still in contact with may think we didn't see each other that much anymore and mostly communicated by text.

"What car you taking?" Nick asked when I informed him of my plans.

"What car do you think?" I retorted, "I can't take your Mustang and I doubt you'd let Jessica drive."

Nick chuckled.


"I'm hiring a driver and taking the SUV, ours, not a rental. For obvious reasons."

Nick nodded.

"Are you good to watch Destiny?"

"Absolutely. I'll take her with me if I have to."

"Sure," I replied with a laugh, "like taking a toddler into a business meeting is ever good idea."

"We'll manage," Nick replied, "if I get into a jam I can always call my mom. You know my parents will always bail us out." He chuckled quietly. "By the way, tell Demi I said hi."

It was the first solo trip I had taken since getting married or having a child. It was the first real time I had traveled around California without having to do something for work. As the driver pulled the car around from the side drive and Jessica helped me into a seat while securing my wheelchair she shook her head.

"I'll never get used to the idea of having "a driver" it's just weird."

I shrugged.

"Too pompous?"

Jessica chuckled as she pulled the last of the tiedowns tight.

"Maybe a little, no offense."

The drive took less than two hours maybe a little bit more if we hit a snag of traffic which was typical for LA, but once we got out of the city the traffic was more predictable.

Demi's house was a typical California residence that resided outside of the busy part of LA it was opened and airy, multistoried, had several winding drives, and a couple small decks and patios.

As soon as Jessica ring the bell Demi opened the door.


We hugged.

Then she led me inside.

"I guess you're kind of stuck to the bottom level, but I got good seating down here, I promise." She smiled. Today however, I didn't know if it was her real smile or the practiced one she put on for cameras and the public. I didn't want to spend the entire afternoon psychoanalyzing her. The entire idea gave me a headache.

I made introductions with Jessica and Demi nodded again.

"I remember. I just don't think I've seen you in a year, not since Joe and I broke up."

We fell in the easy small talk and Demi showed me around the places of the house I could get to and told me about the places I couldn't.

"I got this room on the third floor that I mostly used for writing and recording and… Other things." She smirked then laughed.

"Okay, maybe I don't want to know." I replied.

"Nothing bad…" Demi defended, "just nothing I would mention to certain people or to small children."

We wandered back towards the main sitting area.

"I'm also getting a roommate." Demi elaborated in a low voice. "I've been seeing a therapist, at least have one on speed dial since I got out of rehab last year. You can kind of call it a safety net." She chuckled in a bitter sort of way.

"Is there something I should know about?"

Demi made a face.

"Nothing I feel like elaborating on right now. Like I said, it's complicated and I'm working through things."

She pushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear; she had gotten her ears pierced again and now had several cartilage piercings.

"Okay, just remember I'm here if you need anything. Even if you just shoot me a text." I finally replied.

"Some of my crap (I knew she wanted to use a different word) is a little complicated for just a text."


Chapter End Notes:

Like chapter 7 I pretty much gave this chapter a facelift. I'm still in the process of rewriting Demi's storyline, which will take a while.

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