To your luck, something distracts you from your melancholic state. As you glance a few feet to your left, you notice a beautiful, young woman relaxing on a park bench. You slowly grow with envy, wishing that you were as gorgeous as she is. Her long, highlighted, blonde hair flows blissfully, exactly like the lush green grass surrounding you. She turns in your direction, giving you a quick look with her bright green eyes, then stares off somewhere else. But soon, the woman has no longer captured your attention.
She pulls a boombox from behind and sets it beside herself. The sun’s rays occasionally flash off of the boombox’s shiny surface. The woman extends her arm and tunes it into a radio station. You strain your ears as much as you can, trying to pick out at least parts of the song. Finally, you recognize the song as "I’ll Never Break Your Heart", almost over with. After listening to a couple lines of the song, a feeling of despair results.
You turn your stare back into the flaming sunset, trying to thrust away your immediate thoughts. Due to your weak attempt, it doesn’t work. Your painful memories keep on flooding into your brain, and you can’t stop it from happening. ‘Why did I have to hurt him?’ you demand of yourself. ‘Why did I take advantage of him? Why did I shove him away? Why couldn’t I have realized earlier that I truly do love him with all my heart?’
The vision of your ex-boyfriend clouds your mind. The last time you remember seeing him was where he was standing in your front doorway, ready to say good-bye. The more you think about him, the more depressed you become. He stood there motionless, arrayed in his usual blue, baggy jeans that went along with his light blue plaid shirt over his white beater. His black leather jacket was draped over the rest of his wardrobe, and he wore a black headband with the Nike "swoosh" logo in his spiked, dark brown hair, almost jet-black like his goatee. You recall large, silver hoop earrings dangling from his earlobes, and lightly tinted sunglasses resting upon the bridge of his nose. He stared at you with his chestnut brown eyes, and broke the tense stillness with one last statement. "If you’re ever ready to really commit, I’ll be waiting... with a rose just for you." With a heartbroken expression covering his face, he left your presence in silence.
At that moment, you desperately want to apologize to your ex-boyfriend and mend the torn pieces of your relationship. But you realize that it won’t be as simple as you thought. You haven’t seen him in over a year, and he probably has hooked up with another girl by now. Knowing that it would be impossible, tears create a river of despair as they stream down your face. You lay your head in your arms as you think, ‘It’s all my fault.’
In the distance, you listen to another song start to play on the radio. "Torn", performed by Natalie Imbruglia, seeps out the speakers, and you hear the woman saying with disgust, "Ughhh! I hate that song! It’s sooooo annoying!" In your mind, you agree with her comment, but you remain mute, not even bothering to lift your head. She switches the station to the one that you recognize as 101.3 KDWB.
Not wanting to drown yourself in desperation anymore, you decide that it’s best to go home and put the past behind you. As you raise your head, you notice the woman getting up from her casual position. She grabs her black, glossy purse, and slings the long strap on her shoulder. You hear the loud clicking of her white, high-heeled dress shoes on the cement sidewalk as she strolls off. You glance at her light blue flowered dress swaying from the breeze, and then you notice that she has left her boombox sitting on the bench. "Hey!" you call out to her. "You forgot your...." Then you stop shouting, for it seems that either she is completely deaf or has ignored you for some strange reason. Not being able to figure out why she would just leave it there, waiting for someone to steal it, you shove the thought aside as you start to head for your house.
As if the DJ on the station was trying to persuade you to stay, he informs you, "Here’s a new song for you to listen to. It’s called, "I Want It That Way" on today’s best music - 101.3 KDWB." You don’t recognize the name of the song, so you immediately swivel towards the radio, trying to figure out if you’ve heard the song before or not.
"Yeah." The short, sweet notes of a male’s voice slides out as the strings of a guitar are picked. The minor chords of the music creates a sad but mysterious mood around you.
‘Nope, I don’t know it,’ you effortlessly give up after a few seconds, but somehow, the guy’s voice seems dimly familiar. You guide yourself in the opposite direction, and trudge towards home.
It doesn’t take long before your attention is unexpectedly veered again. Standing not to far away from you is a young man, leaning his back against the rugged bark of an oak tree. "I’m yours... completely," he expresses along with the instrumental music, not noticing you. He casts his eyes out to the nearby brook, flicking tiny pebbles into the gurgling, crystal clear water. "I feel... so deeply," he continues.
‘Is that... no, it can’t be... can it?’ Strangely enough, a thought strikes your mind, trying to convince you that you’ve heard his voice before. Unfortunately, you can’t easily tell because of the low notes he sings.
Suddenly, he cocks his head in your direction, his slightly curled, brown hair thrashing against his forehead from the fierce wind. Draped in a half-buttoned white shirt that is complimented by his light tan khakis and brown leather belt, he serenades you, "You’re my first... thought everyday." As the powerful breeze blows his shirt to the side, you notice his the top of boxers and his nicely built abs. With his fiery, blue eyes and frozen gaze, he has completely entranced you. Although his face remains blank, you feel his glaring eyes burning right through your skin, as if he was totally infuriated with you. "And I want it that way."
Your face drops, wondering why he’s so angry with you. You look away, not wanting to see his enraged expression. With confused, glassy eyes, you glance at another guy close by. ‘Hey, wait a minute. He wasn’t there before!’
A young adult with delicate, flowing, blond hair and glistening, blue eyes loosens up on a bench. "My life... is for you. And I... adore you." He, too, appears to be familiar as well as another singer. He also sees you staring at him, and then a disappointed look blurs his once carefree face. He runs his fingers through his hair, and then jingles some loose change in the pocket of his black, baggy jeans. The number "52" is distinctly seen on the front of his red, black, and white sports jersey. "I love... you more everyday. And I want it that way."
‘Don’t tell me you’re mad at me, too!’ you exclaim in your mind. ‘This is absolutely crazy! I’m going home once and for all!’ At your first impulse, you bolt down the sidewalk, shoving your way past two other guys that have also appeared for some unexplainable reason. After several lengthened strides, you abruptly stop, and then quickly glance back. Trying hard to catch your breath, you now notice four males desperately swooning you with the heart wrenching chorus. The blond leads them with his kid-like yet mature voice.
"No good-byes."
"Ain’t nothing but a heartache."
"No more lies."
"Ain’t nothing but a mistake."
You shake your head as you think, ‘I really need some sleep. Or was it that fourth slice of pepperoni pineapple pizza I ate?’ Your stomach moans as it churns from the thought. Wanting to ignore the group of singers, you once again attempt to race for your house.
"I want it that way." The eerie mist of the line gets rammed into your head, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t possibly tear it out. To your misfortune, after trying with much difficulty to clear your mind, you stumble over a rock that had been lodged into of one of the sidewalk’s cracks. Luckily, your sturdy hands and knees break your fall before your head can make contact with the cement surface.
‘Stupid platforms. I knew I shouldn’t have worn them today,’ you regret in complaint. You immediately rip the polished, brown shoes off of your feet, and you sigh as you stretch out your toes, feeling slight comfort. ‘They’re getting too small, anyway.’ You glance down at your palms of your hands, and then you examine your knees. They don’t look too bad; only a few indentations and negligible scratches. You brush the miniature pebbles off of your skin, and then reach for your platforms.
You proceed to help yourself up, but then someone’s secure but tender hand grasps your own, picking you up from the ground. "Uh... thanks," you shyly respond to the person’s assistance. But as you lift your eyes to level with their own chestnut hue eyes, you gasp under a trace of your breath. "A.J.?" you confusedly question him, and then your mouth goes speechless.
"Yes, I know... it’s too late. But I want it that way," he softly sings to you, and you notice through the tone of his voice that he is immersed in despair. "No, A.J.... it... it can’t be too late," you weakly try to convince him.
His only response to you is the chorus of the depressing song. "No good-byes.... No more lies...." Still clutching your fragile hand as if it would break under the slightest pressure, he slowly guides you back down the sidewalk path. You survey your surroundings, and you notice that the sky has now been cloaked with dark clouds, making you feel spiritless. A spark of lightning flashes in the distance, soon followed by a low, rumbling thunder. You lay your head upon A.J.’s shoulder for comfort, but he immediately shrugs it off and releases your hand.
"A.J.... wait." But he refuses to listen to you as he continues to walk off, leaving you alone for the moment. ‘I know what he’s trying to do,’ you soon conclude. ‘He’s deserting me just like I did to him that one year, trying to make me feel sorry for doing that.’ You cringe from the thought. You stand there in silence, but then you break the stillness between you and your mind by saying, "And... it’s working."
"I gave you my heart, baby, right from the start. And that’s the way it will always be, yeah." You glance to your right, and you notice Kevin now singing, dressed in nothing but a pair of plain blue jeans and a blue, airy (and completely unbuttoned) shirt. Even though it was Kevin who was vocalizing the words, it was as if they were coming straight from A.J.’s damaged heart. Soon, A.J. joins in with Kevin, creating a duet of Kevin’s low voice with A.J.’s higher pitch.
"No matter the distance, I want you to know... that deep down inside of me." You shiver slightly as the atmosphere gets colder and colder, wishing that you hadn’t worn such a skimpy dress. A.J. seems to notice, and heads toward you. He takes his black leather jacket and wraps it around you, protecting you from the freezing weather. After that, Kevin and A.J. move out of your sight, letting Howie take over.
He slowly strolls over to you, his large, brown eyes pleading at you for an unknown reason. His simple but stirring words echo throughout your head. "You are... my fire. The one... desire. You are...." The four others quietly join in, repeating Howie’s last words.
At that moment, you feel a raindrop on your elbow. You look up at the gloomy sky, and one by one, the crystal-like drops plunge from the clouds and down onto the earth. You adjust your focus, and you now see Nick, once again running his fingers through his blond, wet, stringy hair. He shifts his index finger back and forth as he bursts out, "Don’t wanna hear you say!"
Suddenly, the rain starts darting down angrily, pouring its wrath on you as if you needed to be severely punished... and you silently agree. The whole quintet continues to croon the ending chorus, even through the pelting storm. "Ain’t nothing but a heartache. Ain’t nothing but a mistake." The words crush your heart, forcing you to feel A.J.’s pain that you had carelessly slashed into his heart.
"No good-byes," Brian sings for his last solo. As you look him over with watering eyes, you notice that his white shirt is now completely drenched, beads of rain streaming through his disarrayed hair and down every part of his suave body. But the scorching embers in his blue eyes has not changed one bit.
You cast your eyes downward, and you collapse to the grass full of dew below you in tears. Once again, A.J. steps over and drags you up off of the ground. He gazes hard into your own eyes, making you feel uncomfortable. Tears of rain flow down his cheeks, and almost soundlessly serenades the last line of the song to you. "’Cause I want it that way."
Everything goes silent, but then you break the stillness. "A.J.... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry!" you beg, pleading him for a second chance.
"Shhh." A.J. puts his finger to his lips, trying to calm your despondent crying. You give him a questioning look, wondering what he would do next. He ruffles his dark brown hair, bleached platinum blind on top, but doesn’t remove his woeful gaze from you. As the last drop of rain slides down the edge of his tinted sunglasses, he seizes you by the shoulders and presses his lips against yours. He envelopes your lips with his mouth, and you both gasp every second for breath. You swear to yourself that you’ll never let go of him, not wanting to ever lose A.J. You made your mistake once, but you’re definitely not going to make it again.
Unfortunately, the moment soon becomes insignificant. After about five minutes of A.J. embracing you with his heavenly kiss, you slowly lift your eyelids, and then you notice that the white, front paws of your cat are standing on your collarbone as she licks your lips. "Ewww! Gross!!!" you blurt out in disgust, but also in astonishment. You willingly thrust your cat off of your bed, and she scurries out of your room in a flash. You use your arm to wipe off your lips. "I hate the smell of cat breath," you grumble.
Then you plop back on your bed, sighing in a wistful tone. Not knowing whether to feel relieved or heartbroken from your dream, you realize that it was too good to be true, anyway. Faint visions of A.J. immerse your mind, and you wish that you had his phone number, wanting to pick up the broken pieces of your past relationship. ‘But that probably wouldn’t work,’ you think pessimistically.
Wondering what time it is at that moment, you instantly glance over to your night stand. The rays of sunlight peering through your white blinds and your alarm clock bring you to the conclusion that it’s after 10:30 A.M. But then, something else catches your attention. On your table daintily lays one single rose, and a card sits up next to it. You grab the card, and hurriedly open it up. Imprinted on the inside in black ink are five, simple words.
"I want it that way."