Joey only had one bag as he stepped off the bus into the center of downtown Greenwich, Connecticut. He tightened his grip on the strap over his shoulder. But unlike he feared, the whole street did not stop and turn to stare at him. In fact, no one paid him any mind.

Other than the woman trying to get off the bus behind him. “Oh, move along, won’t you?” she groused.

Joey hopped off the last step and onto the sidewalk. The bus let out a sigh as the doors closed and it trundled on its way again.

He had been traveling for a couple of days. The last of his money had gone to cover the rent he owed on his apartment. So he’d only had enough left for a Greyhound rather than a plane ticket, then the bus fare home from the depot. He was sore and stiff and probably smelled funky. He popped some gum in his mouth to substitute the good brush he wanted to give his teeth.

Jesus fucking Christ. This was not how he even imagined coming back here. He’d considered it briefly when Below Zero were on their way up, high on the success of their first album and the Grammy they’d just won. But then he and Blake had rented their apartment, and there didn’t really seem to be any point coming back where he knew he wasn’t wanted.

Fuck. He’d have to tell Blake where he was. With the other guys, he could probably hold off admitting he’d had to crawl back home for as long as he could. But Blake would get it out of him after ten minutes on the phone. He rubbed his temples and decided to deal with that when it came.

For now, he just had to get home.

He walked down the street past a couple of banks and the independent clothes stores. Joey felt a pang of nostalgia that just made him sad as he took in the quaint storefronts.

He’d spent a lot of time on these streets. Anything to stay out of the house. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything to keep him away now as he trudged down the familiar paths.

The trees were turning as fall set in. Joey hated seeing summer end. It felt like the walls were closing in.

He could smell Maggie’s Muffins half a block away. If he had anything but pennies left in his pockets he would have totally swung inside and helped himself to an almond bear claw. Nowhere else in the world did one like Maggie’s, and he’d looked. Instead, he inhaled deeply as he approached, swearing that as soon as he had any cash, he’d go treat himself.

Except…then he’d have to see Maggie.

It was probably inevitable people were going to ask why he was home. What happened to his popstar career. But Joey couldn’t stomach to think about that on his first day. Not until he’d had some sleep and a shower. The humiliation was too much.

All his dreams, all his fame and wealth and success hadn’t been able to save him from coming back. No matter how hard he’d tried. How much he’d wanted it. Knowing he’d have to tell his story over and over again just made the bitter pill even harder to swallow.

He’d already made up his mind he was going to tell anyone who asked that L.A. was too fake and he’d always intended to come back to work on Broadway anyway. It was half true, after all. Martha, his agent, had him a couple of auditions already set up. It was a little tricky to negotiate from L.A., but the thought of trying to get a new agent on top of everything else was unfathomable.

Although they hadn’t had much success, Martha had felt like his only friend on the really bad days since the band split.

Of course Blake was his best buddy. But he was so loved up with his new boyfriend he wasn’t always around when Joey wanted to talk.

He didn’t begrudge him. In fact it was the opposite, he was thrilled for him. But it had been hard on Joey at times, bottling it all in.

At that moment though he let it all go and just breathed in the delicious scents from Maggie’s heavenly bakery. He smiled – right at the second the hottest guy Greenwich had ever seen stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Joey was so taken aback he stopped walking, quickly dropping his smile. The guy was tall, over six foot, broad and a good body, if anything could be seen through the wool cardigan he wore. Joey normally found cardigans on guys dorky, but this dude owned it. Perhaps it was the scruffy beard and wire frame glasses that made it work. He was kind of geek-chic, if a geek were to suddenly decide that hitting the weight station at the gym was cooler that chai lattes and vinyl records.

Joey screwed his head back on and started walking, trying to pretend he hadn’t just been caught ogling. The guy gave him a nod for some reason and walked past.

What was the nod for? Did he recognize him?

Joey sighed to himself and shook his head. He probably did, and Joey couldn’t help that. From the number of tell-all articles that had sprung up over the years, it was apparent that everyone in town knew about Joey Sullivan running off to be in a boy band.

Still, it would be really nice if the hunky man-candy didn’t think that he was an utter loser without even meeting him. Joey glanced back over his shoulder wistfully.

He hadn’t noticed the guy holding anything before. But now it was obvious he had a big cardboard box perched on one hip and a brown paper bag from Maggie’s in his free hand. As Joey watched, Mr. Geek-Chic stopped and handed the bag to a guy sitting on the street who was obviously homeless from his grimy condition.

Joey felt several emotions at once. First, that that was probably one of the kindest acts of selflessness he’d ever witnessed. The homeless guy broke into a big smile as he pulled out the bagel. Then raised his eyebrows at the hot drink Geek-Chic offered him. Then he gave the homeless guy a business card and pointed down the road.

Joey wasn’t sure where he was giving him directions to, but by then Joey was already wrestling with a bunch of other feelings.

He felt guilty he’d not even seen the homeless guy. He’d honestly just walked right by him. But if he had seen him, there was no way he could pretend that he would have done something so thoughtful as to buy him some food. Even if he had any money.

How did the guy know what the homeless man would like? What if he was wheat intolerant, or vegetarian? And he’d just gone and got him a bacon and cheese bagel. Maybe he preferred chicken? Or tuna? And there were a million kinds of coffee you could get, let alone teas. What if the homeless guy didn’t like what he gave him? Wouldn’t Geek-Chic be embarrassed?

Then a tiny, awful part of Joey felt horribly jealous.

No one would do that for him. Well, the guys from the band would, but they didn’t know how bad things really were. He couldn’t believe a stranger would be that kind towards him, to save him when he was at his lowest.

Because right now, he was pretty sure he was as low as he could go.

There was no knight in shining armor to save him from his fate. So he turned back around and carried on walking.

Do-gooders only did things like that to make themselves feel better, Joey was sure. Why else would strangers go out of their way to do nice things? Joey would give anything to help Blake, Raiden, T.J., even Reyse. Although Reyse Hickson didn’t really need anyone’s help right now judging by his chart positions.

Those guys were his brothers, and he’d do whatever he could for them. But some random dude on the street? Joey shook his head. He had to help himself out before he could even think about anyone else.

He clenched his fists as the sidewalk led him away from town into a more residential area. Fuck, when had he become so bitter? He remembered feeding a stray kitten one winter when he was a kid. Giving his friend Jilly his lunch money at school because the bigger kids took hers. He wasn’t heartless.

But he was sure as hell angry and resentful right then for being forced into a corner like an angry alley cat.

He also knew that his jealousy wasn’t entirely without bias. If it had been some soccer mom acting with such kindness, he probably could have seen the generous act more clearly for what it was. As it stood though, Joey couldn’t help but think about Mr. Gorgeous Geek-Chic being sweet to him, specifically, without a deep longing.

What would it be like to be cared for like that?

He gritted his teeth as he walked up the hill. He didn’t need caring for; he looked after himself. He loved his friends and, when he’d been able to, he’d given liberally to charity.

Right now, he had nothing to give. It was easy to stick your face on a campaign when you were adored. As it stood, he suspected no one would want him at the moment, and it wouldn’t do any good if they did. He was a nobody again. He just had to protect his own skin, his own heart, and try and get through this.

With that thought still in mind, he turned down his old street, steeling himself for what was to come. He’d played to crowds of eighty thousand people, yet stepping back onto Carter Drive was somehow far more intimidating.

He trotted up the front porch steps he’d known his whole life. His heart was in his throat as he stood at the door, his hands trembling. There were so many things he would give to avoid this moment he was facing.

But the sad truth was, he’d already given them. There was nothing left.

“You are my sunshine,” he sang to himself in nothing more than a whisper. “My only sunshine. So please don’t take, my sunshine, away.”

He pressed the bell.