When Casey Cordy was twelve, she saw a movie that changed her life profoundly. It was "The Longest Way Home", a pre-teen heart wrenching tale about a girl that moved far far away from her one true love, who was battling Leukemia. It stared Gretta Werner and Bowen Aaron. The exact second she saw his ten foot face on the screen, her heart fluttered and then flew up into her throat. She, like every other twelve to seventeen year old girl in North American was bowled over by the floppy haired god that was Bowen Aaron. She immediately forked over her hard earned money for every glossy magazine that had Bowen's face on the cover, even the ones that promised a mere mention of him. She kept a picture of a shirtless Bowen sitting on a broken boat dock, in her underwear drawer. She imagined marrying him countless times, never in a million years did she even consider that in just ten short years she would be introduced to him at a PJ Clarke's over after work appetizers.

One of her closest friends from college just happened to have attended the same Summer Camp as Bowen, Casey immediately regretted the time they had stayed up all night cramming for a mid term, giggling about movie star crushes among other things. Over a quick, somewhat embarrassing introduction, Casey concluded that he was surprisingly normal for a formal child star. His dimples were as deep as she remembered them, and his hair still flopped over his eyebrows in an endearing puppy dog kind of way. He was charming, polite, and even tempered. She felt like she was a teenager all over again. They saw each other every day after that first night.

Casey glanced over at the alarm clock. two thirteen am. that was about right she thought. She heard Bowen kick off his shoes and pad down the hall in his socks, most likely shuffling out of his jeans and whipping his sweat stained t-shirt into the laundry basket on his way down the hall...or leaving it on the kitchen chair, which was the likeliest of all possible equations.

"hi babe" he murmured as he slid into bed beside her, already staking his claim on eighty percent of the quilt and duvet. he smelled like a lovely man mix of scotch, sweat, and keihl's amnio acid shampoo.

"hi", she mumbled back, shifting slightly to recover her share of the bedding. "how'd it go?"

He launched into the events of the evening. In recent years he had made the leap from Pre-Teen stud puppy to Actor-slash-comedian and regular on Whatz Up?, a blatant Saturday Night Live rip off, known for it's vulgarity and hot topic issues that provided fodder for next day watercooler conversations. The show touched on issues that other respectable shows wouldn't go near with a ten foot pole. Jerry Springer guests take acid and go on the bender to all benders with the TMZ crew and a Catholic priest, was how Bowen once described it to a roomful of Casey's work colleagues.