Alex: It had been a long day of meetings and I needed a drink.

The rain hit my hood as I walked down a strip of sidewalk in New York. Finally, I walked into a bar that seemed like less of a dive than the others along the street.

The bar smelled of stale beer and smoke. Pool tables sat vacant again one wall. Men and women all sat along the bar, either staring into their drinks as if it held the secrets to what had gone wrong in their live, or they chatted amongst each other, as if they were good friends, despite the people having slurred speech and mascara streaks on their cheeks. Truly a Lonely Hearts Club.

Hey, that wasn't half bad. I wrote it down in a little notebook I carried with me before taking my seat at a stool, which had foam breaking out of the seat. This place was in desperate need of a makeover.

The bartender, a tattooed man with a bald head came over to me. "Hey man," he practically whispered, revealing a British accent, "Are you Alex Silver. That guy from that band?"

I leaned forward a little over the bar. "Yeah," I admitted, not really caring, "But can you do me a solid and not make a huge deal out of it. I'm kinda on incognito mode tonight."

The bartender gave me a little wink. "So can I get 'cha anything?" he asked at a normal volume a moment later.

"You got scotch on the rocks?" I asked. The bartender chuckled to himself and grabbed a cup. A moment later he handed it to me. I took a quick sip.

I looked across the bar. There was a girl there. Blonde. A little wore out looking. She gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a little flirty smile. I gave her the courtesy of smiling back. I knew she'd have been an easy target to pursue. I could swoop in and she'd be in my hotel room in ten minutes flat. But tonight I just wasn't feeling it. Not to mention she reminded me of her. The way her hair fell down on her shoulders. She looked like her. I could feel my necklace practically heat up as I thought of her

The girl sashayed her way over to me. "So what is Alex Silver doing in a little dive like this?" she asked, with a little giggle.

"I needed a drink," I said, lifting the scotch to my lips.

"I'm a huge fan of yours by the way," she said, touching my arm, "You and your brothers. Your music is so incredible."

"Thanks," I said, pulling my arm away, about as subtle-ly as she had touched it, "It's good to hear."

My brothers and I had a band. Silver. A boy band. Surrounded by hundreds of screaming fans at the drop of a hat. It was fun. I'd even go so far as euphoric.

That was until she left. Then I took a downward dive, as well as out record sales.

My brothers credited me as the primary source of the most recent "failings." After a two year hiatus where my brothers tried repeatedly to get me to slow down and stop partying and drinking, we were in the midst of planning what they were calling our "comeback tour". Complete with album. And how fast we had sold out Madison Square Gardens we weren't doing as bad as my brothers claimed. Not that it mattered. I could care less we had managed to fill every stadium we were visiting. It didn't matter without her.

Cass: I ducked into the back door of the bar I was working at. The rain was really coming down tonight.

"You're late," Roy reminded me frankly. I shook out my umbrella and hung up my rain coat.

"Yeah yeah," I said, "Dorothea had a doctor's appointment and wound up late."

Alex: I recognized the voice of the other bartender who had just walked in. I looked up, trying to see if I was right.

Cass: I walked out of the kitchen, back behind the bar. I did a little turn as I walked up to the computer to punch in. "That girl," Roy said to one of the customers, "Always dancing."

Alex: "That girl," the bartender said, "Always dancing."

I looked around the bartender, unable to believe my eyes.

I had had this dream a thousand times before. It couldn't be her? I pinched myself, wincing. This couldn't be real could it?

"I know," I said, my voice practically whispering. It was her.

Cass: "I know," the customer said. I recognized the voice, but I didn't try to place it initially.

"Oh?" I asked, not looking up from the computer, "Do you enjoy stalking girls in your off time too?"

"Cass, you can't talk to a big shot like this guy like that," Roy teased.

"So I can't tell Mr. Bigshot to kiss my-" I turned and my words were cut short.

Alex sat at the bar.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my witty quips suddenly drowning.

"I could ask you the same thing," Alex said, with a little smile, "I never pictured you tending bar."

"Neither did I," I said, anger flaring up my chest, "But I'm kind of a single mom."

"How is she?" Alex asked, swallowing, his smile running away.

"She's good," I said abruptly, "She's 8. She just started 3rd grade."

Alex: As she spoke I felt the urge to cry. My daughter, my baby girl, was in school? 8 years old? Did she even remember me? I hated to even think.

"Are you happy?" I asked, swallowing again. I couldn't even look Cass in the eye.

Cass hesitated, and instantly I knew the words that would leave her lips would be a lie, "Of course."

"I've missed you," I admitted.

Cass snorted. "Obviously," she laughed bitterly, "I can tell from all the girls I hear about, coming in and out of hotel rooms with the notorious Alex Silver."

"Cass," I begged, "Don't be like that. Is it honestly so hard to believe I'm having as hard of a time with this as you?"

"You mean like the parties, and extra money, and the massive mansions?" Cass asked, incredulously, "Maybe a little."

"You know you could have asked for any of that and I'd have given it to you three times over," I said

"Well," Cass said, "I kinda planned on never seeing you again. Almost worked too." She walked over to help another customer, and I followed her.

"Can we please just talk?" I begged.

"What is there to talk about Alex?" she asked.

"Cass, I can help you," I said, "Will you just let me?"

"What makes you think I need your help?" Cass asked, slamming the customers drink down in front of them.

"Cass, look at yourself. You're a bartender. You wanted to be a dancer. To go to Juilliard," I pointed out, "You don't have to be doing something that you don't want. I'll give you money. I'll give you whatever you ask for."

"I'm doing just fine!" Cass shouted, gaining the attention of everyone in the bar, "Maybe I didn't get my ideal life. But I have my daughter. I have my own life. I'm doing just fine."

"Our daughter," I corrected.

"MY daughter," Cass corrected angrily, "I don't see you doing much for her."

I felt like I'd been slapped. "Can we just talk?" I asked, "What are you doing tomorrow."

"You know Alex," Cass said, "I'd think you of all people would understand there is no rest for the weary worker."

"I just want to spend some time with you," I begged, "I've missed you."

"I don't believe you," Cass said, "Can you please just leave?"

I swallowed. Cass walked up to another customer. "Can I see her?" I asked quietly. Just loud enough to make Cass stop.

"Alex," she said, slowly. "She hasn't seen you in 6 years. Maybe it'd just be best if…"

"Oh my gosh!" I shouted, my turn to be angry, "Cass, are you saying I can never see my daughter again?"

"I'm trying to do what's best for her," Cass said pointedly.

I shook my head, "Do you have a number I can call."

"Are you honestly going to make this harder than it has to be, Alex?" she asked. I shook my head. Then I saw the tears in her eyes. If there was anything I hated worse than not seeing Cass, it was seeing her cry. So I turned and left, not saying all the other words I wished I could say to her.