J.C. Chasez went from heartthrob to Tara Reid bedfellow (allegedly... wouldn't want J.C.'s lawyers coming after us for slander) to failed solo act to quaint old fellow who sits on the porch with a handful of Werther's Original in his sweater pockets -- that is, when he's not daydreaming about the remote-control trolley running through is apartment.
Aw. Would you be his, could you be his, won't you be his neighbor?
