A Matter of Trust (POV Justin)
by Marg

I knew that this was going to happen. I just knew it. But I did it anyway, stupidly enough. It goes to show... Just my luck.
We got in at a good time for once last night, and I thought that getting to sleep early would be beneficial. After all, I'd been exhausted after a full day of grueling rehearsals and interviews and could barely keep my eyes open walking into the hotel. We were so busy lately, and I was stretched thin. Sleep seemed wonderful. 
But my damn biological clock only compromised and set an alarm then for . . . 4:00 a.m.
I knew for a fact that none of the other guys would be getting up until the earliest, five. But probably not until six. We had to get to the arena at seven to start for a run through of the concert which would occur tonight. Early mornings recently; I hated it. I also hated myself at the moment. I, Justin Timberlake, had stupidly listened to common sense and now had to pay the price. 
I lie restless in bed for several more minutes. I didn't want to wake up Lance, who I was sharing a room with this time. But if I stayed still a moment longer, I thought I would burst. The drab wallpapering and windows with the blinds pulled shut was anything but entertaining and my mind was screaming. Finally I gave in and pushed the blankets off. I slid out of bed towards the shower.
When you're up, you're up. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
I changed into jeans and a t-shirt. As I was tying my sneakers, I glanced at the clock. 
4:25 a.m.
That was it. I had to get out. I glanced at pale haired Lance and sighed. He was snoring contently, the lucky bastard. I went to the door and opened it slowly so it wouldn't creak. I slipped out into the main room of our suite.
All five of us were in one suite this time, but it was one kick ass suite for sure. It was almost like a house. Despite our rough schedule, management had pulled through. It had a kitchen area, a main room, a dining area, and two bedrooms. I was sharing one bedroom with Lance while Chris was sharing the other with Joey. JC unfortunately was cast out on the couch in the main room. He didn't mind. In fact, he told Johnny not to bother with another room. He said it was the most comfortable couch he'd ever been on. But JC could sleep anywhere.
So the comfortable couch. That was my danger zone. I had to sneak past him to get out. Luckily, he would usually sleep through a bomb. Of course, if JC woke up, I would have entertainment. Except JC wasn't any more fun in the morning than I was at the moment. And he would want a shower and to know why I woke him up... and none of that was fun at all. And I really just wanted some air and a walk.
Just before I slipped out, I remembered a key and ran back to get one from the kitchen counter. Getting locked out would be seriously bad considering I'm forbidden to even leave the hotel room alone, least without a body guard. It was just for security reasons. I wasn't really in danger and figured it was no use to wake anyone at four o'clock in the morning. I intended to get back before anyone noticed anyway.
I got out into the hallway with a sigh of relief. I started towards the elevators and remembered a diner or bakery type of place that was down the street from the hotel. It was open twenty four hours and would be a perfect destination. I had some cash so I decided to get something to eat. I hoped they had cereal. 
It was a ten minute walk that I enjoyed. The sun was just coming up in the pure blue sky and the air was crisp and fresh. It felt good to be out with free time and alone for once. I liked our venue this time. It was a quaint small city with everything basically within a walking distance. The temperatures were typical of fall. Not hot, but not cold either. 
Walking alone is refeshing.
Being recognized. That had been my main concern. But I found the diner uneventfully and went inside to sit at the counter at a stool seat, happy the place was open so early. There were only two other people in there besides an old woman behind the counter. A faint song that I didn't know was playing in the background. I glanced at the other people from whom I was several seats away . One was a blonde woman with a ponytail, jeans, and a sweater who looked to be in her twenties. The other was a man with dark hair, a black shirt, and jeans. I wondered if they were together.
"Good morning, honey," the elderly woman greeted me with a pleasant smile. Her eyes were a light green and her hair gray. I smiled back at her reflexively. "What can I get for you this morning?" she asked.
"Um, do you happen to have cereal?" I asked. I noticed that the man and woman were exchanging words. I guess they were together after all. 
"Sure thing. Cheerios, Frosted Flakes, Applejacks . . . ?"
"Applejacks," I replied, instantly liking this place. "And milk, please." I sat relaxed and started to think this morning might not be so bad after all. 
"Sure thing," she replied, disappearing for a minute. My eyes drifted back to the couple. There was just something about them… They hadn't looked up yet, and I wondered if they knew anyone else was here. They seemed deep in conversation. Both only had coffee in front of them. Something about them just didn't seem right to me but I didn't know what . . . It was just one of those first impressions. A sense.
"Here you go." The woman returned, placing a bowl of cereal, a spoon, and a glass of milk in front of me.
"Thanks," I replied. She nodded and turned away, picking up a broom. She started slowly sweeping. 
I took a sip of the cold milk and started eating. A few minutes later, I heard a door open and turned toward the entrance. A little girl of about seven skipped in. She was wearing overalls and a flowered shirt and her dark hair was in pigtails. I smiled at her when she looked at me. She smiled back. 
She climbed up slowly on the stool one away from mine and swung her feet. "Hello, Grandma," she said cheerfully to the woman.
The woman turned and an endearing smile spread across her face. She put the broom down and walked over to the little girl. I watched the exchange fondly as I ate. 
"Good morning, Ashley," the woman said. "You want some chocolate milk?"
"Yes, please." The girl grinned, showing dimples. The woman nodded and turned away to get it.
The girl turned to look at me. "Hi," she said.
"Hi," I replied after swallowing a spoonful of cereal. I smiled and she smiled back.
"You're up early," she said with a curious glint in her blue eyes.
"So are you," I returned.
"I always help Grandma on Saturday mornings," she said proudly.
"That's very nice of you," I praised. "Your Grandma seems like a very nice lady."
She nodded. "I'm Ashley Graye." She stuck out her hand.
I put the spoon in my left hand and took her tiny hand in my own, laughing internally at her politeness. She seemed to have better PR skills than I did. "Justin Timberlake." I watched for any recognition, but there was none. 
"Nice to meet you, Justin," she said.
"It's nice to meet you, too, Ashley," I replied. 
"Did you meet the nice boy, love?" Her grandmother returned and set the drink in front of her with a straw.
"His name's Justin, Grandma. He's up early too!" She smiled. She turned back to me. "Do you have a girlfriend, Justin?"
I shook my head and smirked. "Nope. Do you have a boyfriend?"
She shook her head too. "No. How old are you?"
"Eighteen," I replied.
"I'm eight," she said. She seemed to consider this as she took a sip of her milk. "Will you be my boyfriend?" she asked. "Jessica at school has a boyfriend."
I smiled and glanced at her grandmother. She was chuckling to herself. 
"It would be my pleasure to have such a pretty girl as my girlfriend," I said. 
She giggled. "I have to help Grandma now," she said, slipping off the stool. She held the glass in her hands.
"Okay," I said with a smile. 
She grinned at me and then ran behind the counter. "Grandma," I heard her say. "I have a boyfriend too . . ."
I laughed to myself and started eating again. I was just about finished and started putting money out, getting up and smiling at the little girl once more. I turned to leave and started for the door, glancing at my watch. It was already five fifteen and I needed to get back just in case anyone had woken up. 
I was halfway through the door when I heard a glass shattering bang. It sounded like a gunshot. 
I spun around in surprise and saw the man and woman I'd noticed before standing. The man was holding a gun and the woman was jumping over the counter towards the cash register. I stood there like a block of ice, trying to understand the scene in front of me.
I couldn't believe it. What was happening? I felt all the energy I had vanish. I froze. I couldn't see the elderly lady anywhere and heard moaning.
My heart pounded as I stood in the doorway. I didn't know what to do. I'd never been in this sort of situation before nor had I ever considered it. Not in my wildest dreams. It was surreal. Then the man turned around.
So much had changed in seconds.
"Hey, you!" he growled. His voice was gruff and I saw his face. I'd never forget it. Hollow, gaunt cheeks and dark eyes that seemed haunted. His nose was long and his mouth curled into a snarl. He lifted his gun at me, and I did the only thing I could think of. 
I ran. 
I pushed the door and ran out in time to hear another gunshot.
And a little girl's scream.
I froze again. My feet skid on the sidewalk at the corner of the building. I caught my balance and looked back. I could hear voices shouting. What could I do? The guy had seen me. They knew what I looked like. I had to get back to the hotel. I couldn't be a part of this. I wasn't supposed to be there. How could I possibly help?
Someone else would have heard the gunshots.
Someone else would be there to help. 
I couldn't stay. I started running, making up my mind. All I could picture was the barrel of the gun pointed at me. The man's trembling fingers pulling the trigger. But then . . .
Ashley. Her scream. It echoed through my ears and tore at my heart. A blood curdling scream of an innocent child. I had never heard anything like it. And her grandmother. Where was her grandmother?
Before I knew it, I was at the entrance of the hotel. I couldn't believe my choice. I left the scene and two helpless people at the mercy of two assholes. How could I? What kind of person was I? If they didn't make it, it would be my fault. 
I had run. 
What else could I have done?
I stared at the monstrous doors the hotel helplessly.
What else could I have done?
I started in through the lobby in a mechanical trance. Everything was so fresh in my mind. Visions and sounds replayed in my head. Different scenarios rushed in and out of my mind. I got in the elevator and punched in our floor number. My hands were shaking. I felt weak. I felt guiltier then I had ever felt for anything in my life. I thought I would be sick. Anxiety coursed through my veins, making my blood run cold. 
And I was scared. I was the face plastered on music stores and magazines all over the country. I didn't exactly mix in with the rest of the crowd. It had dawned on me. They had seen me. Most people knew who I was. I cursed my biological clock for waking me up that morning.
I wouldn't be hard to find.
I even introduced myself. I was such a God damn idiot. They knew what I looked like and if they were too stupid to recognize me, I said my name loud and clear for them to hear. I was so stupid. So, so stupid.
I told myself it hadn’t happened. I dreamed the last hour of my life.
My reverie didn't fade until I reached our room. As I slid the key into the slot and turned the knob, all hopes of sneaking in without a trace and trying to clear my head were shattered. JC was up and on me like a shark the moment I put a foot in the room.
JC was far too overprotective of me. I waited for the lecture, wishing I could just walk through him.
"Where were you, Justin?" he asked, standing right in front of me. I couldn't even bring myself to look him in the eye. I couldn't tell him where I had been. I couldn't even form words. I had to forget. "Where the hell were you?" His sharp tone hurt as much as a physical blow. "You've been gone for a while, haven't you?"
I sighed. “JC.”
“Don’t give me that, Justin. Why do you do this?”
"I just. . . I walked down to the lobby," I lied. "I couldn't sleep." Should I tell him? What would he do? How would that help anything at all except get him annoyed before I could even explain? 
"You can't go out of the hotel alone whenever you want," he lectured bitterly. "Do you understand me? You're not even looking at me, Justin. We have rehearsal all day for a concert that's sold out and you decide to sneak out? Not acceptable. You of all people. You think we have security for the hell of it, Justin? You know better.”
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, studying my sneakers. I'd heard this whole thing a million times before, and I was usually obstinate enough to fight him on the issue, but this morning I didn't have the energy.
"That's not good enough. We have a job to do and you're part of a team. You don't just run off when we have somewhere to be. Are you even listening to me?" he persisted. 
"Yes, JC. Stop it. I only went to the lobby." I lied again. He was mad enough at me for going past the door. I couldn't risk telling him that I'd left the building. That was just plain suicidal, and I didn't know how to handle the diner details yet. 
He had a right to complain about ignoring security. We’d been through the consequences of it before. And boy did I wish I’d followed rules this morning. But even without realizing it, he was taking things very seriously.
He apparently hadn’t gotten enough of his precious sleep last night, and I knew from experience not to toy with his temper. Especially over this same issue that we always beat to death. 
"You know the rules. Don't do it again."
"Whatever, JC. I know, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever," he muttered irritably. JC stalked off toward the kitchen, and I headed for my room quickly, praying that the sound of the shower running was Lance. My prayers for once were answered, and I was alone.
Closing the door behind me, I slowly slid to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. Tears fell silently and I buried my face in my hands. I didn't know where the tears had come from. I wasn't crying because JC had yelled at me, although it hadn't helped. I guess it was my own stupidity and self-righteousness. Should I have stayed behind to see if the family was all right? If they were dead, was it my fault? 
Emotion overwhelmed me. My tendency to get emotional was exacerbated by the seriousness of the situation.
You would have been shot if you’d stayed, I reminded myself. Could I have saved lives?  
Possibly not your own.
What does it matter?
Maybe they're fine . . .
Yeah, what are the chances of that?
And now you might be dead anyway, with those two after you.
Would they really be after me? Even if I didn't do anything? But I should do something.
You put everyone in danger. 
I moved my head back and sighed. My vision was blurred and breathing uneven. My stomach churned and I wanted to disappear. The cereal I ate before was churning in my stomach. I felt nauseous.
Dead.
The image of the gun appeared in my mind, and more salty tears slid down my cheeks. Envisioning all their faces, I remembered the entire occurrence as if it had happened seconds ago.
It had happened seconds ago. Just moments before. My heart was still pounding from the run back. I was surprised that JC hadn't noticed that I was out of breath. 
I heard a hand on the knob of the door and shot up off the floor. I looked around frantically, not wanting to be caught like this. I went to my bag and pretended to be going through it just as Lance walked in. I hastily wiped my face with my shirt.
"Hey, good morning, Justin." His voice was cheerful. I was envious. I didn't turn around, and he continued, "JC was wondering where you were before."
"I know." My voice was shaking, and I couldn't help it.
"You okay?" he asked cautiously.
"Yeah. It's fine. I just went out of the room for a little bit. Air and stuff like that." I said too much. My voice gave me away. I shrugged my shoulders and dug further in my bag for nothing. I refused to face him. My ears followed his footsteps over to his bed, and I got up quickly and rushed out the door to the bathroom. 
Cold water on my face did nothing but evoke more flashes of the shooting. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered. Well, it wasn't as if I could forget. I toweled off my dripping face hastily and glanced in the mirror. My eyes were a little bloodshot, but besides that, I don't think I looked like I'd been crying. I sighed.
A knock at the door made me jump. I turned cautiously.
"Justin?" came JC's voice. It was calmer now. Maybe he drank his coffee.
I had no choice. I opened the door and stared pointedly at him. I wondered if I looked like I felt.
He studied me. "Lance said you seemed a little upset," he started.
Damn Lance, I thought. 
"I'm sorry if I got a little carried away before," he continued gently. "I didn't mean to yell at you so I'm sorry if it came off that way . . . With the stress of our schedule I've been a little out of it lately . . . I just don't like when you disappear."
I nodded. I felt cornered. He was standing in the doorway and blocking my exit. I think he realized after a few seconds because he took a step back.
"You okay, bud?" he asked.
"Fine, JC," I assured him. I met his eye so he would believe me. "I'm a little stressed out too."
JC smiled tightly. "Okay. Just wanted to make sure . . . I'm going to go wake up Chris and Joey. We should start getting ready soon."
I nodded, and he left. I turned back and stared at my reflection. What sort of person are you?
I walked back out and went to flip on the television. I needed sound. I needed distraction. The news was on, and I sat down on the couch tiredly. I wasn't physically exhausted. I was emotionally strained. Confused. Anxious.
"Hey," Chris's voice said. I looked up as the man with black and white dreadlocks sat down beside me, his elbow pressing into my side. If I could tell someone, it would be him. He had ten years more experience than I did with life. 
"Hey," I echoed back.
Should I tell him? Do it. He could help . . . Yeah, how? Just do it. He's ten years older. He's got experience. He can help you.
Yeah, what drugs are you on? It's Chris. He wouldn't understand. Besides, it's not serious enough to tell anyone yet. I can deal. I'm focused. Concert tonight. That's what I should be concerned about. That's where my attention is. 
Not serious enough?
Ashley and her grandmother are in critical condition if not dead and it's not serious enough for you? 
My own thoughts started to scare me. I glanced at Chris again as the newscaster started going over today's weather forecast. It was supposed to rain. Perfect. It matched my mood. 
Chris had his foot up on the glass table in front of the couch we were on and was tying his shoe. I glanced back at the television in time to catch a view of the street I had just been on. My heart pounded. I saw the sign for the diner in the background.
"In right now," the woman on the screen said as she glanced at a paper that was handed to her, "life from Channel 5, there's been a shooting in a local area . . ."
I stared. Chris looked up and put his foot down as I reached for the controller. I was about to change it when he caught my arm.
"No, wait, that's where we are," he said. "Let me see this . . ."
It was useless. I dropped the controller at my side and watched. 
"At a local diner," the woman continued, "a child and an elderly woman have been critically injured due to gunshot wounds. The exact condition and identities of the two are being withheld, and they are currently in care at the Memorial Hospital."
Memorial Hospital. I repeated the name in my mind. 
"The exact happenings of earlier this morning are still cloudy for local police investigators. The scene indicates an armed robbery but the gunmen are missing. Apparently, the injured are related and work together every Saturday morning. What happened this morning is still undetermined and police are working hard to track down the gunman or men. We ask that if you have any information about the shootings, you contact the police immediately." They gave a 1-800 number that I didn't catch. 
"Who would do that . . . ?" Chris was saying. "I didn't realize this area was that bad."
I didn't answer. I was still staring at the screen even though they'd moved onto something else. They were talking about a recent school PTA meeting.
"Can you believe that that's just down the street from us?" Chris asked. "Hey, Justin . . . Justin?"
"Yeah?" I turned to him. "What?" 
He gave me a funny look. "Nothing, I was just talking to myself . . . That's all . . . You look like you're in another world; you okay?"
"I'm just a little tired," I lied. 
"I hope they catch the people that did that," he continued. "Can you believe it? A child and an elderly woman. Who could be more defenseless? God, there's some whacked people out there . . ."
I nodded, swallowing.
"Maybe there's a witness," Chris said. "It would be an easier investigation if someone had seen something." He sighed. "I guess we'll hear more later."
"Yeah," I said softly. 
"Geez, I hope those two are okay."
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
"You two ready to go?" JC's voice came from behind us.
"Yeah." I jumped up and flipped off the television. Chris got up slower.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Hello?" 
A hand waved frantically in front of my face. I snapped out of a distant reverie and focused on the hand's owner with a confused frown on my face. Superman shirt . . . My eyes drifted to the face of Joey. 
"What?" I asked, slightly annoyed. 
He stopped waving and stared placidly at me. "Break's over," he informed. "Back to work, kiddo."
"Oh." The fact that I couldn't even remember having a break was a bit disturbing. This whole practice was hell for me anyway. I could do the moves and knew the lyrics in my sleep, and yet suddenly I struggled to remember my cues. This didn't exactly please anyone to say the least.
I was about to walk past him when he started talking again.
"While I have you alone . . ." he began.
I stopped with a sigh and stared at him plaintively. 
"What planet have you been on this morning?" he asked with a small smile.
I just stared. "What?"
"Obviously you're distracted," he continued. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
I was an open book when it came to emotions. I was so obvious, everyone would be asking me what the problem was today. "I'm just a little nervous about the concert, is all," I admitted slowly. And it was true. I'd be out in the open in front of thousands of people. And those two . . .
"Justin Timberlake nervous about a concert?" Joey retorted in a sarcastic tone. "You playing me or what?"
Wasn’t I human? "If you didn't want to know, you shouldn't have asked." I walked past him to where the other three were getting back to work before he could say anything else. He followed but didn't address me again.
JC was in an all business mode. As soon as we were back, he said, "Let's take it from the top of 'Tearing'. We need to perfect those backflips."
I sighed as we moved to get into position. This was going to be a long day.
~~~~~
~~~~~
The rest of the day went by as slowly as it could. I attempted to keep up with the smiles and excitement that were expected. The other guys were hyper that night because the concert had gone really well so I don't really think they noticed that I wasn't sharing the mood. 
The concert was the highlight of the night. After all my worrying about being distracted, when I finally got onstage and saw the lights and the screaming fans, everything was fine. For those couple of hours I actually enjoyed myself because I wasn't able to wallow in thoughts of 'what if'. I put as much energy as I could into the show in hopes that I would be dead tired afterwards.
We got back to the hotel at about eleven thirty. I wasn't as tired as I hoped to be, but I was drained enough. But I did have one thing in particular pulling at me. The only thing I wanted to do was visit that hospital. I couldn't turn my back completely on the situation. I needed to see them. I needed to know what happened.
"Hey, Justin," Chris called, bouncing over to me as I headed for my room. "We're going clubbing, want to come? It's twenty-one and up, but we've got it covered."
"Nah." I shook my head. "I'm just going to hang out here. Are you all going?" Please say yes. 
"Yep." He nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to come? You always want to come." 
"Not tonight. Positive. Have fun." I smiled. For the first time today, it was a real smile. This was my chance. They would all be out and I could go to the hospital . . . It was a dream come true.
It was time to prove to myself that things were fine, convince myself when I saw them that I couldn’t have changed anything, and that they were fine.
"OK." He shrugged. "I'm going to change." He turned and left. 
I couldn't wait until they left. Then I could maybe clear my conscience. I went into my room, turned on the television, and flopped down on the bed. I found Nickelodeon and started watching 'I Love Lucy' reruns to pass time. 
Lance walked in a few minutes later to get his shoes. 
"Are you guys leaving soon?" I asked, propping my head up with my hands.
"Why?" he asked a little suspiciously.  "Aren't you coming?"
"No, and I want to know when I can have the strippers come in and let my mad house party begin," I replied sarcastically. 
"Oh, is that what you're up to?" JC asked from the door. I looked up and saw him leaning against the frame. 
"Shoot, did I just give away my plan?" I sighed. 
"Seriously, what are you going to be doing while we're out?" JC asked. "You don't mind being alone? I thought for sure you'd go clubbing with us."
"I'm probably just going to go to sleep," I lied. "I'm not in the mood."
Lance held his hand against my forehead as he walked by. "He seems a little warm," he said. "You feeling okay, Justin?"
"Very funny, Lansten." I swatted his hand away. 
"Just sleeping?" JC was so intent on knowing my plans that it was starting to get annoying. "That’s not like you. Why do you sound like you have other plans?"
"I don't. Do I need a baby-sitter now or something?" I retorted sourly. 
"If you want to go out, you should come out with us. It'll be fun."
"But I don’t want to go out. I just want to sleep! What's with the third degree?" I demanded.
Open book, I reminded myself. Be careful.
"Come on, JC." Lance pushed out the door. "He's a big boy. Let's go."
"Bye!" I called out after them. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
"I might call later." JC walked back in as I was sitting up. "So you better be here to answer the phone. Don't make me worry about you."
“JC, you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you, Justin. I just don’t like this habit of yours, disappearing.”
“JC. I don’t disappear. I’m eighteen. It’s perfectly fine for me to be alone sometimes, you know.”
“Yeah, superstar, I know.”
"Besides, I might be sleeping," I objected. “So if the phone rings, I’m going to ignore it.” Did I really make him that suspicious? 
"Answer the phone anyway." He walked out.
I didn't say anything after him. My stomach twisted. Chances were I wouldn't be here to answer his stupid phone call. I didn't know what would happen if I didn't either, so it was kind of a chancy situation. My biggest worry had just been to be home before they were. I wonder if the 'I was sleeping' excuse would work . . .
Well, if they had a good enough time clubbing, he might not call anyway. I hoped that they'd get some alcohol into JC and he'd forget. I smiled at the thought. Yeah, right. He wouldn't forget. When he wants to be an ass, he'll be an ass.
I heard the door shut and jumped up to make sure they were gone. I walked back out and went to get a drink. I couldn't leave that instant because they might come back in because they'd forgotten something. Or they might still be in the hallway. I'd wait just a little while. 
The phone call. Shit. That was going to bug me all night. I could always say I went to get a soda or something. Or the hotel had a fire drill. Something ridiculous like that. Yeah, that would work. Uh-huh. 
I was still worrying about it as I went back into my room to change into jeans and a sweatshirt. Maybe I could leave the phone off the hook . . . No, then I'd have to answer to who I was on the phone with all night. No good. 
But still . . . maybe I was worrying over nothing. He probably wouldn't even call. It was probably just a mind game to scare me from leaving like I had that morning.  It wasn't going to stop me so there was really no use in worrying over it. I had enough to worry about. I was worried about everything. JC was the least of my worries, or should be.
I found my key and headed out the door.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Hi . . . can I help you?" The woman at the desk of the hospital stared out at me tiredly through narrow spectacles. Another woman stood beside her, thumbing through paperwork.
I smiled slightly uncertainly. "Hi, I was wondering if I could possibly see Ashley Graye . . ." I began. "I'm a friend of hers."
"Visiting hours are over," she replied. "Maybe if you'd shown up at a decent time of the day . . ."
It was late... I knew it was. But still... I felt indignant. "I couldn't . . ." I tried to explain. "This was the only . . ." I sighed, breaking off. "Could you at least tell me how she's doing?"
Before she could reply, the woman next to her looked up. "Did you say Graye?"
I nodded. 
"Gunshot victim? Brought in this morning with her grandmother?" she continued.
I nodded again. "Yeah. How is she?"
She looked at the other woman. "Just let him in, Susan . . ."
There was a moment of silence. I waited uncomfortably as the two whispered. 
Finally, the second one turned back to me and started around the desk. "I'll take you to see her," she said. "You'll have to be quiet and quick though. Visiting hours ended a while ago and no one's supposed to be allowed in to see her now."
"I understand," I assured her. "Thank you." 
"Normally I'd say come back tomorrow," she continued as she started down the hall. I followed. "But I'm afraid that this is a different situation . . ."
"Is she . . . going to be okay?" My voice trembled slightly.
We stopped in front of a numbered room that had a closed door and she turned to me. "I don't want to lie to you, Mr. . . ."
"Justin," I said. "Justin Timberlake."
She studied me for a moment. "I knew you looked a little familiar . . ." She smiled, but it faded quickly. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you, Justin. She's not in too great of shape right now . . ." Her eyes studied me carefully. "We're a little surprised that she's made it this far. She's very small and such a close range... I'm sorry. I don't want to get into the details with you. I know that's not what you're here for."
I nodded and bit my lip. "Is she . . . Can I talk to her?" 
"I doubt she's awake, and I don't want you waking her either," the woman said. She sighed. "She hasn't been very responsive while she's been awake anyway. As far as we know, her grandmother was her only living relative. She hasn't said anything to us."
"Her grandmother . . . How is she?"
The woman shook her head. "She wasn't so lucky . . . We did all we could, but at her age, it's always hard. She wasn't strong enough to pull through. She had a weak heart, and the whole situation was... "
My eyes drifted to the floor. "Does Ashley know?"
"No."
"What's going to happen to her?" 
"I wouldn't concern myself over that . . . We're taking this one step at a time . . . Do you want to see her now?" Her hand reached for the door.
I nodded. 
She opened the door and gestured me in. "I'll let you by yourself, but I recommend you don't stay too long."
"I only want a few minutes. Thank you."
She walked away and I gazed into the room. The blinds were drawn on the white room and the only light was from the door which I was standing in. I walked in towards the bed where I saw her small body under the sheets. Her face was pale, but peaceful looking and she looked like an angel sleeping. If it wasn't for the machines hooked up to her, I wouldn't have known anything was wrong. 
I quietly pulled a chair from the corner of the room up to her bed and sat. I reached out to take her hand and was surprised at how cold her skin felt. It was like ice. My eyes drifted to her face. I wanted to see her open her eyes and know I was there. I wanted her to know that someone was there for her.
The table beside her bed was empty. No cards. No flowers. Nothing for her to smile at when she woke up. I made up my mind to change that. I'd come back tomorrow with flowers or something.
Tomorrow.
The nurse's words echoed in my head: "Normally I'd say come back tomorrow, but I'm afraid that this is a different situation . . ."
For the first time, I noticed the bandage that went around her shoulder. I knew that under the blankets would reveal the true extent of her injury. 
"Hi, Ashley . . ." I whispered as I stroked her palm. It was awkward to talk and not have someone answer back, but it didn't stop me. I didn't want to wake her, but I had to talk, in hopes that somehow she would hear me. "I don't know whether you can hear me . . . But I'm with you, all right? You're going to pull through . . . Do you remember me? I'm your pretend boyfriend . . ."
My vision blurred as I remembered that morning.
"His name's Justin, Grandma." She smiled. She turned back to me. "Do you have a girlfriend, Justin?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Do you have a boyfriend?"
She shook her head too. "No. How old are you?"
"Eighteen," I replied.
"I'm eight," she said. She seemed to consider this as she took a sip of her milk. "Will you be my boyfriend?" she asked.
I smiled and glanced at her grandmother. She was chuckling to herself. 
"It would be my pleasure to have such a pretty girl as my girlfriend," I said. 
"You're going to pull through, Ashley," I said again, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. I squeezed her small hand gently. I felt awkward, inadequate. I've never done something like this before. "Look, I don’t really know what to say. Especially since you’re not going to say anything back, so it’s hard to try to have a conversation. But still I feel like I should say something, even if we just shared a little bit of time together." 
I barely knew her, yet my guilt tied her to me. I wished she would answer, but I knew that she couldn't. I only hoped that she could hear me. 
"I can't stay long," I continued. "But I'm going to keep coming back as much as I can . . . It might not be too often though because of my job, okay?" I closed my eyes. Guilt flooded my chest. "But when I can come, I will, all right? I'm really sorry . . ." I could feel the hot tears on my cheeks now and wiped my eyes hastily with my free hand. "I shouldn't have run . . . I should have turned back, but . . . but I couldn't think then, you know? I was scared . . . I know you were too. None of us were expecting it . . . I didn't know. And if I turned back, you were already... He had already... I guess none of us could have stopped it, right?"
But you heard her. And you still left.
How long was it until somebody called the police? Until they were found?
"I hope you'll forgive me," I said shakily. "I hope I can hear you say that you forgive me, because I'm really sorry. I don't know what else I can do, Ashley . . . I want so hard to help you . . . I wish I could go back and do things differently, but I can't now . . . And at the same time I don’t know what I would do. So you have to help me and be okay. . ." 
I took a breath and paused for a moment. "I have to go now, Ash. I know this wasn't a very long visit, but I'm not really supposed to be here . . . Not only are visiting hours over, but I sort of snuck out to see you. But I'm going to come back tomorrow. I swear. And I'll try to stay longer. I'll be expecting to see your smile too . . . That's your promise to me, okay?" I let her hand go and got up from my chair, pushing it back to where I'd gotten it from.
I walked back over to her before I left. "Bye, Ashley. Feel better . . ." I whispered. 
With a sigh, I walked towards the door. Leaving, I shut it behind me, taking one last glance at the peaceful figure on the bed.
I started down the hall slowly. It was so unfair that an eight year old girl was lying in a hospital bed like that because of two assholes that wanted money. What sort of cold blooded people would do that?
And me. What kind of person was I to turn my back on it?
~~~~~
~~~~~
I caught a cab back to the hotel. It was slightly drizzling as I walked up to the entrance. I was still worried over the whole thing. Why wouldn't the nurse tell me what was going to happen to Ashley? Where would she go now that her grandmother was dead?
I knew the obvious answer. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. But you can't lie to yourself. Step by step, the woman had said. My concerns shouldn't be for who Ashley would stay with, but about how serious her injuries were and whether she would be alive tomorrow. 
When I put the key into the door, I didn't even care whether the guys were back. Why should it matter to me anyway? I had enough to worry about. A lecture was the least of my problems. 
But they weren't back. I walked in to the room being the same way I had left it. I noticed the phone on the table had a light blinking and realized there was a message. So JC had called after all . . . I walked over and read the directions on the machine.
To retrieve messages, press 4. I picked up the receiver and pressed the number.
"You have one message," a mechanical voice said. I sighed and waited. JC's voice filled the line.
"Hey, Justin," he said. I couldn't tell his mood by his tone, but I could just imagine. "I'm calling to see what you’re up to. I said I would call and I did . . . I don't know where you are; what's your obsession with disappearing lately? We shouldn't be too late. Chris has his cell phone on if you need to get in touch. Well, I'll talk to you when we get in. Bye, Jus." He ended with a sigh and it disconnected. I hung up.
"I was sleeping," I said to myself as I started for my room. "Sleeping . . ."
I was so confused at that point that I just wanted to go to bed. I was mad at myself. I was mad at those two people who had done this. I was mad at JC and I didn't know why. For caring, I guess. I don't know. 
I changed quickly into sweats and a t-shirt and grabbed the controller before I jumped into bed. I found some corny Family Channel movie and started watching that. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. My stomach hurt and my head hurt. From stress I guess. It was hard to sleep, but I finally fell halfway anyway.
Then the others came home. They were loud enough so that I'd definitely be awake now if I'd been sleeping. I think Joey was drunk because he was particularly loud. I heard doors open and close several times and sighed tiredly, watching the credits roll to the movie. 
The door opened to my room, and JC walked in. I waited for him to start bitching about the call or something and didn't even bother to look up, but instead he just came over and sat on the edge of my bed. 
"You sleeping?" he asked gently.
"Not anymore," I replied, looking up. Was he going to be a pain or not? He was so fickle. I couldn't tell.
"Did you get my message?" he continued. 
"Yeah." My hands played absently with the covers, twisting them. “JC, just drop it. You knew I wouldn’t answer the phone.”
“I figured you wouldn’t.”
“So why bother, JC?” I ran a hand over my face. “Come on.”
"And?" 
"I was here if that's what you're getting at," I said. I finally looked up and he was staring. "I was sleeping."
"Am I supposed to believe you?"
"Where do you think I was, JC? I knew you were going to call so why would I leave?" I played innocent.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he replied. He really did seem to be contemplating it. "Well, you're here now," he said with a shrug. "I'm not going to accuse you of anything. Should I expect to hear something on the news?"
I wasn't mad at him for not believing me. He had no reason to. And I think he knew it. 
"Are you feeling okay, Justin?" he asked. When I didn't answer, his hand went to my forehead. 
"Fine," I muttered, pulling from his touch. "Where did you guys go, anyway?"
"You seem like something's the matter. Just this past day or so. Should I be worried?" 
"About?"
"How you're acting," he said. 
I stared. 
"You've been really secretive," he said, tugging at my blanket. "Really quiet . . . Are you sure you're feeling alright? I mean, I was a bit worried at rehearsals today . . . You were great at the concert, but I was a little scared at practice."
"I wasn't really concentrating," I admitted. 
"Why not?"
"You know what I mean. I was thinking."
"Anything you want to talk about?"
I shook my head. "Nothing important."
"I didn't ask whether it was important. I asked if you wanted to talk about it."
"Nope."
"I'm here if you do."
I nodded. "I see you."
He rolled his eyes. "Justin." 
"Yep."
He just shook his head. "You going to be yourself tomorrow?"
"Who am I now?"
"Justin . . ."
"JC. . ."
"Justin."
I knew when I could push some buttons without regretting it. I wondered how much he'd had to drink and how much I should mess with him before he got tired. But JC was good to me. And as frustrating as this conversation was, I appreciated him. 
"Stop questioning me, JC." I gave him a look. "It's too late or early."
"Well, you're annoying me with your dumb answers." He patted my shoulder and got up. "Good night, Jus."
"Did you guys have a good night?"
"Yeah," he affirmed. "We missed you."
"Is Joey wasted?"
JC hesitated but admitted, "He had a little more than he should have."
I laughed. "A little. He's wasted."
"A little. Now you go back to bed. I'll see you in the morning. We've got a bunch of interviews, remember so you have to be nice tomorrow."
"I'm always nice." Great, I thought. "Are we going to be free at all tomorrow?" I asked subtly.
"That afternoon we've got a few free hours," he replied.  "Night . . ." He headed for the door.
"Night," I replied. He left and I closed my eyes. I knew he was slightly suspicious of me, and I didn't blame him. JC usually saw right through everything I did. I'm sure he could tell something was going on. I didn't think I could keep it from him or anyone for too long.
But I just couldn't say anything. I didn't even want to admit something had happened.
I didn't even remember hearing Lance come in. I just fell asleep.
~~~~~
~~~~~
Interviews, interviews, interviews. And more interviews.
They're so repetitive. I really thought I was going to jump out the window. My mind was anywhere but in the room. I just wanted to get up and leave. I was anxious to find out if Ashley was doing better. Everything else seemed to be a waste of time. 
"So how are the concerts going?" a woman asked. She was middle aged lady with bright red hair and a black skirt suit on. She annoyed me when she talked because she would contort her face. Her eyebrows also looked like they were drawn on with a magic marker. It was sort of funny. I wondered if the others noticed. I also didn't think one of her eyes was focusing either. . .
Joey answered the question happily, and I just sighed. We were seated on a couch while she sat in an armchair holding a little tape recorder and a notebook. 
"How is this tour different from any other tours?" the lady persisted. JC handled that one. I'd gotten away without saying much yet. That was rare. And usually I would talk, but to be honest I couldn't even focus on the questions.
I hadn’t slept well and now my eyes just kind of focused blankly beyond her.
We'd been here a half hour already. That wasn't too bad, but I was starting to get a little agitated. I always wondered why the interviewers didn't just get some teenybopper magazine and get the answers from there. Change the wording a little bit. They asked the same questions. Did they think our answers were going to change?
"And the question all the ladies are wondering," the woman continued. "Do you guys have girlfriends?"
Ugh, that question again too. Would there be one new question? Why did they have to waste our time? We had so little time as it was. But you wouldn't understand that, would you? Nah, we're just here to answer questions, sing, and dance like little puppets. What more do you expect? 
I wanted to go see Ashley. I'd seen a florist in the lobby of the hotel and was planning on getting flowers to cheer her up. I hoped she'd be awake when I went to go see her. The only problem was that I didn't know how I was going to get out of the sight of the others for a while . . . I couldn't possibly explain it to them.
Maybe I could.
But would that make me more or less guilty?
I knew what they'd say. It would first involve the fact that I proved why I need security, and the second point would be that I have no responsibility to Ashley, and that I should call the police. I should call the police. I really should. But I'm famous. How does that work? I didn't want this all over. I didn't want anything more than to help Ashley. 
"So . . . Justin?" I looked up at the lady. She was looking at me as though she wasn’t sure she'd gotten my name right. "How do you feel about your success over in Europe?"
I plastered a smile on my face. "It's great . . ." I started and went into my practiced answer. About how we started in Europe. Blah, blah, blah.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"So where are we going?" JC asked as we headed back to our hotel room. Why does he look for group activities suddenly when it's the most inconvenient?
"I've got a date," Joey said with a sly grin. He sat down on the couch with a confident slouch.
"Who?" I asked. I eyed him skeptically and took a seat beside him. His grin looked sleazy so I knew it was something interesting.
"Some girl he met last night," Lance replied.
"Was she wasted too?"
Joey cuffed me in the head. "Shut up, loser. You weren't even there."
“I don’t have to be, I’m sure it’s the same as every other time.”
"What are you guys doing?" JC turned to me, Lance, and Chris.
What could I say? That I was visiting the hospital? Ha ha. Like that would work. I could only imagine the expressions on their faces if I were to say that and describe else had happened. I'd already analyzed that in my head, and I didn't have time for it. And I couldn't say that I was staying in or JC would have a fit thinking I was sick or something. So . . . What then?
I just stared at JC's sneakers blankly. 
"Lance and I are going to McDonald's," Chris said. "We’re starving and the dollar menu sounds so good right now. You want to come, JC?"
"I guess so." He shrugged. "Unless you want to get real food.”
“Real food could work too,” Lance agreed. 
“What about you, J?” Chris asked.
"I, uh . . ." I started. "I was going to go play basketball . . . I saw a park down the street . . ." I lied. Easy lie. Last week I complained about not playing basketball in a long time. It fit.
"Okay. Why don't you eat with us first, though?" he suggested.
"I'm not really hungry," I objected. "I'll get something later."
"Aren't you starving? We haven't eaten since after the first interview."
"I will eat," I swore. 
"You think someone should go with you?" JC persisted. "Any security?"
"No . . ." I complained immediately. "I just want to play basketball. I'm not going to be mobbed. Stop, JC, and let me be normal for once."
"I think we'll all be fine alone," Chris interrupted. "Today's a school day for the kiddies."
Chris, thank you. You have no idea . . .
"Yeah, that's true," JC agreed. 
I let out a happy sigh.
"What time should we all meet back?" Lance asked.
"We have a photo shoot at seven I think . . ." JC said. "Want to meet in the room at six?"
We all agreed.
~~~~~
~~~~~
I went over to the hospital dressed in warm-ups and a sweatshirt. After all, I had to be believable when I said I was going to play basketball. I had bought a basket of bright carnations and a card in the hotel and had it with me as I went up to the front desk. There were two different ladies there now.
"Can I help you?" a middle-aged brunette asked as she typed at a computer. She barely looked up.
"Could I see Ashley Graye, please?" I asked. 
"Sure," she replied. She pushed a piece of paper towards me on the desk and dropped a pen. "Could you just sign this visitor’s form and take a pass?"
I signed my name, date, and time like the sheet required and took a small plastic card that said 'visitor' on it. I figured I had lucked out last night by just going in. During the day they had more security. Every hospital was different with their visiting rules and especially with the details of this particular case, I wasn't sure how things were supposed to go.
When I walked into Ashley's room, I was happy to see that she was awake. She looked really frail and tired, but her eyes were open and that gave me hope. She looked up at me as I approached.
"Hi, Ashley." I smiled widely.
She looked at me passively for a moment. She looked so small with the machines around her and the tubes in her arms. I wondered if she was scared. There was something different about her blue eyes that worried me. The life that had sparkled in them when I met her seemed gone, faded.
"Hi . . ." Her voice was weak and strained. 
"I'm Justin, remember?"
She nodded tiredly. She didn’t seem interested at all. 
I held up the flowers. "I brought these to brighten up your room a little," I explained. She smiled a little bit. "I'll put them on this table, okay? There's a card with it . . ." I put them on the table beside her bed, making sure she could see them. "Do you mind if I sit?" I pointed toward the chair.
She shook her head, and I went and got the chair, pulling it the same way I had the night before. "I don't know whether you remember me . . ." I started.
She nodded and I stopped. "I do," she whispered.
I smiled. "I stopped by last night, but you were sleeping." I looked at her for any sign that she knew I had been there but saw none. "How are you feeling? You look good."
"Sleepy," she managed. I could tell it took a lot from her to speak. "They said to sleep."
"Sleeping's good," I assured her. "When you're well-rested, you'll get stronger and better faster. I don’t want to make you talk much if you don’t want to. I know you need a lot of rest. But you know it’s really good to see you awake."
She closed her eyes for a moment and I watched her. She was so pale. She looked like a ghost. She opened her eyes again, and she asked, "What happened?"
I paused. "That morning?"
"Yeah . . . You were just leaving . . .?" She struggled to get the words out. Her voice was dry and cracking. "I just... It's all really..."
I hesitated. What do I say?
I had to lie. I couldn't tell her because then I'd have to get more involved. And I couldn't afford that. "No," I said. "I had already left. But I know now."
"I don't remember," she whispered. "I know what happened, but . . . but . . . people keep asking, and I can't remember."
My heart skipped a beat. I remembered what he looked like.
"That's all right," I replied. "You're not expected to know. The only thing you should worry about is getting better."
"How's my grandma?" she asked with an expectant stare. She looked lost in the large hospital bed, engulfed by the machines and tubes. It made me nervous.
I swallowed. This was harder than I thought. They hadn't told her? How could they keep that from her . . . ? "I'm not sure," I lied again. "I haven't heard. I'm sure they're taking good care of her."
She nodded and seemed relieved. I felt so bad. But why wouldn't they tell her the truth? I'd have to ask.
"Talk. . ." she persisted softly. "I can't really talk . . It's been so quiet. . ."
"Well . . ." I started thoughtfully, leaning back in the chair. "You know my name and that I'm eighteen . . . I'm in a music group. Ever heard of *NSYNC?" I watched her nod and her eyes brighten slightly in recognition. I smiled. "Well, that's me. You've got a famous friend, how about that? But that's also a reason why I can't always stay long or come to visit you. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I have to be places for my job a lot or I'll be in trouble."
She nodded. "Where's the rest of your group?"
"They don't know I'm here . . ." I admitted. "They think I'm playing basketball."
"Why?" Her brow furrowed. 
"Well, they don't know about you or that I know you . . ." I started to explain. "That morning, I snuck out of the hotel because I couldn't sleep. That's why I was up so early. But there would be a lot for me to explain if they found out because I wasn't supposed to be out. And things got so complicated. So I've got to keep this all a secret."
"I like secrets . . ."
I smiled. "Well, this is our little secret, okay? You and me."
She nodded. "I won't tell."
"Thanks." I smiled, feeling guilty. But there wasn't much I could say or do. 
Silence passed. She closed her eyes again. But I couldn’t stand to listen to the machines so I started to talk again. 
"So my groups really busy. Lately, all the time." I sighed. "We've got concerts and interviews and photo shoots. It's really tiring, but it's fun. We had a concert yesterday that went really well, so that was good. I was worried about you though. I'd heard what happened."
“I..." She looked pained. “I’ll get better.” She stopped to take a deep breath. "They said I will."
"Of course you will," I replied with a grin. "Don't ever doubt it. Promise me."
"Mmm… I promise." She closed her eyes. 
"Are you tired?" I asked.
“Hm…” She nodded.
"Well, feel free to sleep . . . I don't want to be keeping you up. You have to rest."
"Don't leave yet." Her eyes opened and she spoke with more force then before. "Please. I'm always alone here."
"I won't. But I can't stay long."
"Talk . . ." She closed her eyes again.
"Well . . ." I started. "I’ll tell you about my group then. There's five of us all together. Chris is the oldest. Well he's old, but he doesn't act it. He's totally off the wall all the time and always has his hair really weird and stuff. . . Recently he’s been even more weird with the hair because we’re supposed to ‘develop our personalities’ or whatever." 
I described each of the guys to her and even though her eyes were closed, I could tell she was listening. She smiled every once in a while when I made fun of them and that made me smile. When I had to leave, she was sleeping. It made me glad I went. Seeing her was slightly more reassuring.
It was upsetting though. I felt guilty. I had information, and I didn't know what to do with it. I was lying to a lot of people including my best friends. And that upset me along with seeing a little girl so weak because of such a crime. And now she was all alone here. Please don't go, was all I thought about when I left.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"So how was basketball, Mr. Timberlake?" Lance asked as I walked into the hotel room at a quarter to six. He was alone on the couch watching television.
I frowned. I'd feared being late. "Where are the other guys?"
"JC and Chris found a mall that they wanted to check out, and Joey hasn't come back yet," Lance explained. "He said he might be late. So. How was your game?"
I sat down beside him on the couch, feeling a bit unnerved by his tone. "Do I detect a hint of sarcasm in your voice?" I asked.
"Very good." He studied me with a steady expression.
I hesitated and shifted uncomfortably as he watched me. "You're confusing me, Lance . . ." I said. "What is it?"
He shook his head. "Justin, you obviously didn't go play basketball."
"What?" I grew defensive. "Why do you say that?" 
He rolled his eyes. "One, you're not even sweating. Two, next time take your basketball."
"Oh . . ." 
"Well, you're not denying it and that's a bad sign . . ." Lance sighed. "Where were you really and why is it a secret?"
"Do the other guys know?" I answered, ignoring his question.
He shrugged. "I doubt it. Why is it a secret? I just made a good guess. You answer my question now. What's up with you lately?"
I leaned back on the couch and put my feet up on the table in front of me. My eyes focused on the television screen. "It's a really long story. Well, not really, but it's complicated . . ."
"I'm waiting."
"Well . . ." I hesitated. "I don't know."
"Nothing leaves this room if that's what you're worried about," he assured. "I'm not going to tell anyone anything."
I nodded. That almost rationalized a complete confession in my mind. It would be great to have it off my chest, even momentarily. At no risk. "Well, I've got a problem . . ." I started. It felt good to be telling somebody this. And if there was someone I could tell without worrying, it was Lance, right? 
It was time. I could feel it. Someone had to share this with me.
"Come on, Justin. Tell me before the other guys come back."
"Yesterday morning . . ." I began with a sigh. "I snuck out because I couldn't sleep as you know. I told JC that I just went to the lobby, but that was sort of a lie . . . I went down the street to that diner place to get something to eat because there was nothing better to do and I knew they'd be open. There were some people there." I closed my eyes momentarily. "There was a little girl and her grandmother and a man and woman that were sort of weird."
I looked up to see Lance's expression. He was solemn so far and just listening. I sighed again and continued.
"Well, to make a long story short . . . by any chance did you hear the news about yesterday at that store down the street and the shooting . . . ?" I asked.
Lance's eyes widened. "You mean the one Chris was talking about?"
"Yeah . . ." My voice shook a little bit.
"You were there?" He was incredulous.
I nodded as a lump formed in my throat. "That's the girl and the lady . . ."
“Wait a minute. You. You were there?”
I tried to explain to him. How I was leaving, and what had happened. What I’d seen. How I felt about it and how torn I was.
"Justin . . . This is really serious . . ." he continued, shaking his head. "I can't believe you didn't tell anybody . . ."
"I couldn't . . ." There was something about the way he said it and all the guilt I felt already that made all the guilt in side of me suddenly surge like a pain in my stomach.
"Justin, what? That's not something you can't do. You have to. If you have information--"
"Stop, stop. Just listen." Tears formed behind my eyes, and I tried to hold them back. How could I explain? "I couldn't because--"
"Sure you could. You just did. See how easy it was?"
I shook my head. "But it's not like that . . . It wasn’t easy."
"Did you see it happen?"
"Well I left." I wiped at my eyes. "But really I saw a lot."
"Well, where were you today? You still didn't answer that." His voice was patient again, his dependable soothing bass tone. I was actually glad that I had told him. I had to tell someone sooner or later anyway.
"Hospital," I admitted. "I'm kind of friends with the little girl."
He nodded. "And the grandmother?"
"They said she's dead," I answered with a break in my voice.
"Oh, God . . ." He sighed. "The people that did it . . . Did you see them?"
I nodded and rubbed at my eyes. I felt a huge lump forming in my throat. "Yeah..."
"Did they see you?"
"Yeah..." I nodded again. The tears were building up more now but I didn't even try to stop. I was being a baby about it but I couldn't help it. I didn't know what to do or what was expected of me. Crying was the only way I knew how to deal with things.
"Justin, this is really serious," he repeated. "You're sort of recognizable . . . Do you think that--"
"I know!" My voice rose. "I don't know what to do!"
"It's okay . . ." he pacified. He took a breath. "So you just ran?"
"Uh-huh. He lifted the gun and I just ran. And then there were more shots and screaming and . . . I just ran . . ." I leaned forward, face in my hands. "And when I came back... I couldn't tell JC . . . He was mad that I'd left the room, never mind the building. It was like a dream anyway and I thought it could be like it never happened."
"Justin . . . Don't be silly. You know he wasn't mad. He was just worried. If anybody I'd think you'd tell him right away."
I just shook my head. "It's too late now . . ."
"This explains how you've been acting . . ." he said gently. "We've all figured something was up, but wow I had no idea. We thought it was, like, the tour in general or something. And hey. Calm down, okay? Listen... You have to go to the police."
The thought alone scared me to death. I sat up abruptly. "No way. No."
"Justin, you're a witness to a murder."
I shook my head hard. "No, I'm forgetting it all ever happened." I tried to wipe the tears off my cheeks with my sleeve. "I have to."
"You have to why? You can't do that." He paused. "Look, I'm not in any position to tell you what you should and shouldn't do, but I will tell you what the right thing to do is and that's to get help. You're a witness to a murder and a robbery. You were seen. You could be in danger."
"That's why we've got bodyguards," I objected. 
"And that's why you keep sneaking around without them? You could get hurt."
I shook my head. "I'm going to forget."
"You can't forget." He sighed. "I can't say I've experienced the same thing, Justin, but can I ask you how you can go to sleep at night knowing that you could put two murderers in jail and yet not do anything about it?"
"You're not helping!" I accused. "I just wanted to tell someone. I can figure this out."
"By doing nothing? You can't figure it out. Not alone you can't." 
"Lance, please," I begged.
"I want to help, Justin. But the best I can do is to tell you this: Go to the police. Or at least tell the guys so that they can help you too."
"But I'll be even more involved then," I objected. I wiped my eyes with my shirt. 
"How can you possibly be more involved?" he challenged. "Do you know what an impact you can make? You're withholding information and being scared is not an excuse."
I shook my head again. "I can't," I said. "It's not that easy."
"Fine." He shrugged. "You think about that dead woman, the girl in the hospital, and those two bastards potentially hunting you down and you tell me that you're okay with that. Can you?"
"Hunting me down?"
"You think they want to go to jail? You're the only thing that's in their way."
He was just trying to scare me. I knew it. Using a different type of psychology just so that I would give in and agree that the best thing to do would be to involve more people. But I didn't see it like that. The way I saw it, I would forget and be done with it. My life didn't have room for this drama. The police were going to investigate. I’m sure there were security cameras or something. 
"Maybe they didn't see me . . ." I lied. But they had. I knew it. I could remember clearly the man's eyes boring into my own. And I'd said my name.
"Justin . . . Please, for your own safety . . ."
"No."
"Will you talk to JC?"
"No." I said it more firmly.
"He's worried about you. We all are."
I shook my head. "No. I can't."
"You told me," he reminded.
"I know . . . I had to let it out. And you'd guessed something was up anyway . . ." I sniffled a little. "But that's the best I can do."
"But I think you're making a mistake."
"Lance, please . . . I told you," I implored. "I'll figure it out. What does making me feel even worse do?"
He nodded in acceptance and sighed. "I guess."
"Please don't be disappointed . . ." I asked. 
"I'm just shocked." He shrugged, leaning back. "When I asked you where you went . . . I don't know what sort of answer I was expecting . . . but this was definitely not what I thought . . ."
"You think I expected it?" I retorted. "It's been absolute hell. I feel sick. I feel like my stomach is eating itself and is in knots and like I should just throw up or something."
"If you were to explain it to someone, it would be better," he said gently. "You'd feel better."
"I explained it to you," I replied. "I feel better now that I'm not alone in it."
He just sighed. "If you say so." He glanced at his watch. "The guys are going to be back any second, so I suggest you go wash up. You don't want to be going to a photo shoot like that."
Photo shoot. God dammit. Did we ever stop? I guess it was better to be busy though. I didn't need more idle time to analyze my thoughts.
I nodded and stood up. "Thank you, Lance. For listening . . ."
"Anytime. Just remember that I'm here," he said. "A lot of people are here."
I headed toward the bathroom. Part of the burden on my shoulders had been lifted. I hoped it wasn't thrown on Lance now. I knew that he wouldn't tell anyone unless I asked him to at least. I just didn't want to get him any more involved. 
I didn't want anyone involved.
~~~~~
~~~~~
The photo shoot was irritating. Stand like this. Smile. Don't smile. Move closer to him. Move away from him. Stop talking. Sit. Wait over there. Good dog. Woof woof. 
And not only that, but it took forever. You'd think they'd have their cameras ready. I mean, they knew we were coming. Couldn't they have everything set up already? Not to mention the fans that had found out where we were and were waiting outside for us. I mean, I love them more than anything, but sometimes . . . Yeah.
I don't know. I had a bunch of things to blame my mood on. I was trying not to show it, but I think that the guys noticed that I wasn't exactly in the mood for joking around. I think they had been noticing my behavior recently, and I saw the way that they looked at me cautiously. I didn't blame them.
Now, I don't think that Lance meant to, but he'd gotten me more anxious with his little talk . But . . . maybe he had meant to . . . He wanted me to tell people, but I just couldn't. Not that I didn't want to. I really did in a way. I desperately wanted to tell JC, but I didn't know what the repercussions would be if I did. I told him everything, but this? Lance had taken the whole thing pretty seriously, but that was his nature. I wasn't sure what the others' reactions would be. I might just be overreacting and getting myself into unnecessary trouble. Why remind JC of my sneaking out if it really wasn't that big a deal? 
But Lance seemed to say it was. "You think about that dead woman, the girl in the hospital, and those two bastards potentially hunting you down and you tell me that you're okay with that. Can you?"
Could I? I didn't know. I mean, were they really hunting me down? How could I know? But they did know what I looked like and they did know my name. That didn't do much for my state of mind. Guns and murderers . . . I felt like I was trapped inside a movie or something. Or a nightmare. But at least I wasn't alone anymore. Maybe they wouldn't remember who I was or what I looked like. Right...
Poor Lance . . . Maybe I shouldn't have told him. I had to tell somebody and he'd been there, but now there was a lot on him. He knew everything that had happened and wanted to fix it, but I wasn't letting him. He probably felt at least half of what I was feeling. 
You're not being fair to him, I told myself. He shouldn't have to deal with this.
Deal with what? Exactly what did he have to do? Nothing. The only part he had in this was to listen. Just to hear me out. Was that using him? I wasn't sure. He didn't have to listen; he had offered. I didn't make him . . .
"Are we almost done here?" I heard Chris complain. 
I glanced up from my reverie in time to see the photographer directing us over to another set. I sighed and followed the lead, dragging my feet just slightly.
"You stand over there." He took my arm and pulled me over by Joey. I didn't like the way his hand lingered on my sleeve. It made me uncomfortable because he was so eccentric. I think he was gay. It was very probable. He dressed sort of funny with a light pink shirt and slightly tight white pants. And he had on one of those hats . . . A beret. The guy was sort of old. His hair was graying. Was this old guy coming on to me?
"And, yes, we're almost done, Christopher," he continued, pushing JC over to Joey's other side. "Just a few more shots." That was another thing. He insisted on calling us all by full names. 
Gay. Definitely. But weird too.
"Turn this way . . ." He took my arm again and I shuddered. I think Joey noticed my expression because I heard him snickering. Lance was put next to me and the guy backed up. "Almost perfect . . ." he said.
If he touched me again . . . A good six seconds of contact there. Almost more than I could tolerate. I glared at him in warning. He didn't seem to notice. He was making JC stand at a different angle. Ugh . . . What was the big deal if we stood a twentieth of an angle off? Did it really matter?
Shut up, Justin . . . You're used to this. Just smile and get it over with. 
The man moved closer to me again and I almost backed up. I stopped myself before getting out of position. Then he would definitely come over. 
"Okay . . . I think that looks good . . ." he said, nodding. "Let me just fix the lights . . . Don't move."
I groaned. Come on . . .
"It's not that bad," Lance muttered.
"He's gay," Joey said under his breath. 
"You noticed," I replied. 
"I think he likes you . . ."
"Bite me."
"He might take you up on that."
"Guys," JC hissed. "If I can hear you, so can he . . ."
We shut up even though we knew he couldn't hear us. The guy was too busy humming to himself and fixing the lights to be eavesdropping. Not that we cared if he could. 
"Okay, boys." The man moved over the camera and stood behind it. He gestured. "Move a little closer together . . . Good, good . . . Stay just like that. Big smiles." 
The camera flashed. I was blinded for the thousandth time. I knew I'd be seeing spots the rest of the night. 
"And now let's move a little bit different." He approached us again and I sighed. He was headed toward me again. He took my arm. "Kneel down here . . ." He pointed to Chris. "You too . . ."
"Just shoot me . . ." I mumbled to Chris as we knelt on the floor in front of Lance, Joey, and JC. The guy was coming back towards me. "Oh no . . ."
Chris was just chuckling. "Yeah, baby, yeah."
I growled as the guy took my arm again. "You stand," he said with a smile. I tried to avoid eye contact with him and he pushed me toward JC. "Lance," he called. "You come next to Christopher."
I elbowed JC. "Are we done?" I asked him quietly.
"Hopefully soon, Jus . . ." he answered.
We were finally situated in a way that he liked, or close enough, and he went back to the camera to take more pictures. Flash, flash, flash.
"All right . . ." he said finally. "That's a rap! Nice job, guys. You looked great." He looked at me and winked. "Really great."
Joey elbowed me as we were walking away. "So, kid. Did you get his number?" he teased.
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, Joey."
"But I couldn't help but notice the way he favored you." Joey demonstrated by running a hand down my arm. “You were his favorite.”
"Enough, Joey," I persisted. I wasn't in the mood.
"Guys," JC disapproved. "You're embarrassing."
"You looked great," Joey persisted as we walked out of the building. "Absolutely fabulous, darling."
"You're an idiot, Joe. Maybe you should have gotten his number," I said. "I think I saw him looking at you too. Jesus, he looked at everyone like he had x-ray vision."
"Looking?" he scoffed. "Well, his hands were all over you. It just doesn't compare."
"You mean . . ." Chris began, coming over to join our conversation. "You would have . . . cheated on me, Joey?" He had mock horror or disgust written on his face. I sighed. This was about to get me annoyed, I could tell.
"What?" Lance exclaimed. "Chris, I had no idea! I thought you and I were . . . Oh my God . . ."
"You're all so immature," JC was saying. I could tell that he was trying to rush us out of the studio before we embarrassed him even further. Poor JC. Always taking the responsible role.
"Joey, you seriously would have dropped me for that guy?" Chris demanded. "Is that the type of relationship we had? I thought you were serious!"
I was trying to get away, but Joey kept taking my hand. I wanted to sock him, but something told me that wouldn't go over very well. We were out of the building soon enough and by then the three misfits had exploded into a fit of laughter. I sent a distressed look JC's way, but he wasn't paying attention. He was looking at his cell phone-- a convenient way to not pay attention to us. I hoped he knew I was on his side.
As we climbed into the limo that we had taken, the guys were still arguing over who was whose and whatever the hell else. I unlatched my arm from Joey's long enough to take a seat as far away from him as possible. I was alone on one side, JC was on the next seat, and the other three were on the remaining one. Chris turned up the radio as soon as the doors were shut. 
A surge of anxiety hit me.
"Oh, God . . ." I groaned as I leaned my head back. "I've got the biggest headache in the world . . ."
Chris started singing loudly with the radio. "She works hard for the money, uh huh, uh huh." Lance and Joey cracked up and then joined in. Lance's low bass sounded ridiculous which made them hysterical.
"JC, I'd make sure that the mini-bar is still accounted for when we get back," I said. I closed my eyes tiredly.
"I think I will," he sighed. "And I might open it if it's not."
I opened my eyes in surprise. "Oh, really?" 
He shook his head. "Don't give me that patronizing look, Justin."
“Are you going to share?”
“I don’t know if you deserve it.” 
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, closing my eyes again. Chris's singing was like a sledge hammer to my migraine. "Chris, can you shut up for like five minutes?" I almost shouted. 
He ignored me. "So hard for the money . . ." 
"Damn you," I said under my breath. 
"You okay?" JC asked.
"Maybe if Chris could actually sing," I replied. 
"Don't act like you're so high and mighty," Chris retorted. 
"Hey, guys, chill," Joey said. He pushed the volume on the radio slightly lower. Not much lower, but it was an improvement. "Okay?"
I ignored him and stared out the window at the street lights as we passed. I couldn't see a moon in the sky and wondered if it was supposed to rain again. Hm . . . I wouldn't be able to use my basketball excuse again if it kept raining . . .
Maybe Lance could cover for me tomorrow. He understood . . .
No, I couldn't use Lance. He could help, I guess, but I couldn't expect him to do too much. I don't think he'd really want to. I could ask . . . Would that be wrong? Probably...
Someone patted my thigh and I looked up.
"We're here," JC said. 
"Oh." I made a face. "That was quick."
He looked at me with a funny expression. "Right . . ."
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Come on, Justin . . ." Chris was basically pulling me out the hotel doors a half hour later. Completely against my will. I was not having it.
"I'm tired," I complained. "I don't want to." I tried to stay on the couch at my place next to JC, who was half asleep, but Chris continued to pull, holding a tight grasp on each of my wrists. 
"I never thought that I'd have to convince you to go to an arcade with me," was his sarcastic reply. He had my arm good now and I couldn't get free. I was soon on my feet. "I'll buy you a soda . . ." he coaxed.
"I don't want a soda," I retorted. "Why don't you take Joey or Lance?"
"Because Joey's on the phone," he replied, "and Lance is . . . is . . ." He glanced at the guy, who was sitting lazily in the chair by the couch, eyes glued to the television. "Lance said no. Anyway, he's a bore." 
"Hey," Lance objected, but didn't even look over.
"See?" Chris said.
"Chris . . ." I whined.
"Justin, come on, don't be a jerk. You've been PMSing all week."
"Fine . . ." I gave in. "I'll go. Happy?"
He crossed his arms. "Don't act like I'm dragging you to hell and back or something, J. Just downstairs. To play."
I nodded and rubbed my eyes. "Okay, okay. Let's go."
"Hmph. Don't be so enthusiastic," he teased as we headed out the door. 
I plastered a fake grin on my face. "Better?" 
"Much." He smiled. "We'll be back in a bit, guys!" 
There was no answer and we left. Everyone was exhausted. I shut the door behind us and we started for the elevators. I could tell just by looking at Chris that he wanted to talk, and I looked at him in amused exasperation, waiting.
"Yes?" I asked.
"Huh?" he replied innocently. The elevator doors opened and we walked in. He pushed for the lobby. 
"You're looking at me funny," I accused as the machine made its descent. "So go ahead, say whatever it is you need to."
"I was just wondering . . ." he started slowly, eyes curious.
"What?"
"I was just wondering what was on your mind," he said.
"My mind?"
"Uh-huh."
"Sleep," I replied. "That's what's on my mind, man."
"I don't get you." He shook his head. 
"What's not to get?"
"You act like a totally different person, but as soon as it's confronted . . . I don't know, you transform back or something."
"Transform?" I gave him a dubious look.
He laughed. "Yeah, transform."
"Well, how am I different?"
"Just lately," he said with a shrug. "Today. Yesterday. Weird. And I think you know what I'm talking about."
"Weird? There goes my self-esteem."
"See?" The doors opened and we moved out to the lobby. I waited for him to continue. "You just laugh it off."
"Laugh what off?" I demanded. "I don't get your damn senior citizen lectures and you know it, Chris."
He shook his head. "You act like there's nothing wrong, but I can just tell there's something, Justin . . . It's in your eyes. What are you trying to act in front of me for, kid?"
I ignored him. I’d let him talk it out.
"Like today in the limo when you got pissed at me?" he persisted as we started walking down the hall to where the hotel had a game room. I desired sleep but I would be patient, even if I hadn't come with him for this.
"I had a headache," I objected. "Like I've never gotten pissed at you before."
"Right."
"I did! The stupid photographer got on my nerves, okay? Touching me. I wasn't mad at you. Not directly anyway. And what's with this talk? I thought we were just going to the arcade." I got defensive.
"We are. Do you mind my conversation?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm just trying to be a friend."
I sighed. "Sheesh, Chris . . . You're such a bastard. You said let's play, not let's have a heart-to-heart."
"Sue me for worrying," he replied. 
"Well don't worry about me," I countered. “There’s too many people worried about me. They have too much time on their hands.”
He pushed me gently. "There you go again. But you never told me what was on your mind . . ."
"Yeah, I did. Sleep." 
"You don't have a one-track mind, buddy. Believe me, I know."
I sent him an exasperated look. Did he realize just how annoying he was being? Now all my friends were giving me the third degree about everything. And I thought I'd been doing a good job hiding it. I shrugged.
"Well . . . the concerts," I started thoughtfully. "Interviews . . . Fans . . ."
"Justin, you're giving me the obvious."
What do you want me to say? I thought. Guns? Murderers? Hunting? Blood? Hospitals? Death? What did he expect me to say?
Of course he didn’t expect any of those. But it was more along the lines of what he wanted to hear. 
"I don't know what else to give you," I replied. "I'm not on all the time. You know that too."
"Come on . . ." We'd reached the room now. There were about three other kids in there. A girl and two guys. Normal looking kids. They looked about my age. I hoped the girl wasn't a teenybopper. They hadn't even turned around at our entrance though, so I decided not to worry about it. They were over at a foosball table and looked pretty intent on their game.
"Justin, just talk to me, huh?" Chris asked. 
"What are you, Chris? My psychiatrist?" I demanded. "Leave me alone. Can’t we just play?"
He gave me a bit of an irritated look, and I began to wonder if my words had come out differently then I'd anticipated.  He seemed to shrug it off though and was headed over to the nearest video game. 
"Maybe you need a psychiatrist," he retorted as he walked away. "The way you act sometimes."
"Chris, that's low. Stop it." 
"Stop acting funny."
I cleared my head the best I could and went over to a game. No more conversation.
Chris and I spent a good hour and a half at the arcade just fooling around. Once he dropped the mature façade, it turned out to be fun actually. We only left when we did because some custodian came by and said that they were locking the doors. 
"You want that soda I promised you?" Chris asked as we headed out.
"Sure." I shrugged and sat down tiredly on a couch in the lobby. "Thanks."
"No prob. You want to wait here? I'll run and get it, okay? There's a bar right there." He pointed to past the front desk where there was another room. I gazed in at the people laughing and smoking and nodded. 
"I’ll be sitting here.”.
“’Kay," he answered. "I'll be right back."
I nodded and waited. He walked into the darkened room and my eyes drifted away to study the hotel. I hadn't really gotten a chance to do that since we'd basically been rushing in and out. 
It was pretty fancy. The furniture, like the couch I was on now, was dark leather, but really soft. There were glass tables rimmed with silver everywhere with matching ashtrays on top. The carpet was a dark reddish color. There were lots of mirrors on the wall. It reminded me of a big mansion or something. It didn't really look like a hotel. I personally didn't like it too much. All the high class stuff didn't impress me. Well, it impressed me, sure . . . but I didn't care for it. Not this fancy anyway.
My eyes drifted to the front desk and I froze in my seat. There was a man standing there in a long black coat. When he turned his head, I could feel the blood in my veins turn to ice. I'd never forget that face.
The long nose. The gaunt cheeks. The hollow, haunted eyes. Our eyes met, or I thought they did, but he turned back to the desk. Maybe he hadn't seen me. I had to get out. My mouth was dry. My heart was pounding. I was scared out of my mind. 
I looked for Chris and saw him talking to some girl in the bar. Figured. My eyes searched the room. I needed to get out before the guy turned around again. I was wasting time panicking. 
I got up off the couch and started for the hallway that led for the elevators. I glanced back and saw the man turning. I started running. 
Please don't see me. Please don't see me.
I was desperate. I went past the elevators to another hall and started to slow. I felt bad for Chris. He was going to be pretty pissed at me when he came out, and I wasn't there. He hated inconsiderate crap like that. 
The man. Was he looking for me? How'd he find me though? I mean, where we were staying wasn't exactly publicized. It wasn't supposed to get out. So how'd he find it? And would they give him my room number? No, right? They weren't that stupid. That was confidential, wasn't it? When fans asked they didn't give it. It had to be safe. We didn’t use our names.
I was shaking. I leaned against the wall. I didn't want to go too far or I would get lost in these endless hallways. I didn't think the guy was following me. If I was lucky, he hadn't even noticed me. I wanted desperately to talk to Lance. He'd understand . . . I was just overanalyzing.
What about the woman he'd been with at the bakery? Was she around? Maybe she was around one of the halls . . . 
Don't panic. Go back.
Go back?
How? 
But I needed to get back to Chris . . . Somehow. I pushed myself away from the wall and looked around the corner to where the elevators were. No one was there. 
Taking a deep breath and gathering all my courage, which I'll admit now isn't a lot, I started back down the hall back to the lobby. I wanted to run up to our room, but Chris had the key anyway. 
Before I reached the lobby however, I saw Chris coming towards the elevators with two cans of soda in hand. I stopped and was overjoyed to see him. I wanted him to hurry up though. I kept glancing behind him to the lobby. I couldn't see the front desk from where I was. 
"What's your problem?" Chris asked as he reached me. "Here." He pushed a can of Coke into my hand. It was cold and I looked up at his face, speechless. I just stared at him. I wanted to say I was happy to see him but that wouldn't come out right.
"Why'd you leave?" he persisted as we walked up to the elevators. I pushed the button for up quickly. We shouldn’t make a lot of noise. I pushed it again. Come on, come on . . . My eyes glanced behind us again.
"Justin! Hello?" he waved a hand in front of my face. 
I didn't answer. The doors opened and we went inside. I pressed the 'close door' button as soon as we were inside.
"Huh?" I asked when I finally realized he was staring.
"See, this is what I'm talking about," Chris was saying as we started to go up. "Justin . . . Something is up with you."
I leaned against the wall of the elevator with a sigh of extreme relief and closed my eyes. I gripped the cold can in my hand. My pulse was racing. 
"Earth to Mr. Timberlake . . ." Chris persisted. He rolled his eyes. "Are you listening to me?"
"Yeah." I nodded and met his eye. "Thanks for the drink, Chris." 
"Can you explain to me why you left? And why you're out of breath? And why you look like you saw a ghost?"
"A . . . um, I . . . saw a fan . . ." I stuttered. “And I just wasn’t in the mood for fans.”
"Bullshit." The doors opened and we walked out to our floor. "You're such a liar. I wish you would be straight with me."
"I am, Chris. I'm sorry . . . I . . ." 
"Don't explain." He rolled his eyes. "I don't care."
"Chris, I'm sorry," I pleaded. "Please don't be mad at me."
"Then explain." He walked in front of me and stopped. I was forced to halt. He wouldn't let me pass.
"Chris . . ." I implored. "Come on."
"Right now. Explain why you've been acting so bizarre to all of us, why you're so quiet, why you are so secretive, and now this. Justin, it’s not fair to us."
I had the feeling that any moment the elevator doors were going to open and the man was going to walk out. He'd pull out a gun and—
"I'm waiting." He stared at me. I had to say something. Something plausible. And quickly.
I sighed. "I saw someone that I thought I knew . . ." I knew I knew . . . "And it scared me so . . . so I left . . ."
He paused. "Why would it scare you? Who was it?"
I was shifting my weight from foot to foot. I couldn't tell him. I just couldn't. It wasn't worth it. "I don't know . . . I just got this feeling . . ." I answered. "I'm sorry, alright?" I nearly begged.
"Justin, who was it?" He got into this protective mode. "Are they still down there?"
"Nobody," I claimed. "I said I thought I knew. It wasn't him . . . I— He, just looked liked him . . ."
"But why would it scare you? Who is he?"
"Nobody!" I nearly shouted. Leave me alone! Shut up! I wanted to yell.
"If there's a problem—"
"Right now it’s you!" I exploded. "I wish you’d all leave me alone." I took a step back as soon as I said it. Calm down, Justin. I opened my mouth to speak again. "God…  I just mean . . ."
"Don't, Justin," he said softly in a stiff voice. "I just wanted to help." He started for the door and I followed at his heel.
"Chris. . ." I begged. "Chris, really . . ."
"Really, what?" He turned. "I don't feel like talking to you if you're not going to let me! I know there's something going on and I wanted to help. Wanted. Not anymore. You clearly don't need my help, and I’d rather not keep you lying to me." He walked ahead at a quicker pace. 
I stood there for a moment, stunned. He was at the door and sliding the key in. I walked up to him silently and followed him through the door. I shut it behind us and stared at the plain door for a minute, before turning.
Chris walked over to sit on the couch next to JC, who was watching television. With his eyes closed though, so he was probably asleep. 
"Chris," I started, walking into the room.
"Shut up, Justin," he replied.
"I didn't mean to—"
"I don't want to hear it! It's too late. You're not going to explain when I ask, so what's the point?" he nearly yelled. "I can't do this now with you, I already tried."
JC looked up and shifted positions. "Hey, guys . . . I'm trying to sleep . . . What's the problem?"
"Justin," Chris replied. 
"No, Chris!" I began. "You. You don't have to be an asshole just because of one little fucking thing! I told you, I’m tired!" 
"It's not just one thing!" Chris retorted. “I don’t think you understand.”
"Hey," JC started in objection. "Can we—"
“JC, you know it too, that he’s been acting different,” Chris persisted. “But it’s complete bullshit if he’s going to make up stuff to ignore it.” 
I didn't hear him and stormed to my room, slamming the door as hard as I could. I locked it and went to lie down. I slammed the can down on the table between the beds and didn't bother opening it. I just collapsed on the bed.
I stared up at the ceiling breathing heavily for several minutes. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I was confused. I knew Chris was mad. And I . . . I was mad too. But more confused.
There was knocking on the door. I was almost thankful for it. The silence had been a little too disturbing. I sat up in bed and pulled a pillow onto my lap.
"What?" I asked.
"It's Superman," I heard Joey's voice. Damn Joey. He would try to be the mediator with me now, just typical. I’m sure they had all overheard the past couple minutes. I did not want to talk to him. I just needed... Something. But not this. "And he's going to knock down your door if you don't open it. Tell me what's with you, JC, and Chris." 
Knock down the door. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. You wish, Joey. I'd love to see it.
"Open the door, Justin," he continued.
"No. I want to see if you can do it," I replied. "You said you'd knock it down."
"Open it now." 
His voice was serious. I sighed and got up. I didn't want him mad if he wasn't already.
I unlocked the door and opened it. I stood there and looked at Joey, who crossed his arms and stared back. Hm . . . I couldn't tell his position. "I don't want to talk," I said softly. There, I said it.
He just looked at me. 
"What?" I asked.
"What’s the matter?"
“I need to breathe, Joey. You’re not involved, so just let me be. Ignore it. It’s late, and you’re not going to help.”
"You know . . ." he started. "What do you want me to say, Justin? What's up with you?" Lance came up behind him and took his arm, sending me a look.
"Justin and I need to talk," he said. 
Joey sent me a look but backed off. "Talk, then." He walked away towards the other room.
Lance gazed at me then calmly. "Can I come in?"
"It's your room too," I replied, moving back so he could.
"Then never lock the door," he answered. He shut it behind him and walked over to his bed, sitting down with his legs stretched out casually. I went back and reclaimed my position on my bed, flat on my back. 
"You want to explain why you're giving everybody a hard time?" he asked.
I sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "I’m not trying to give anybody a hard time, Lance."
"No, you are. You know you’re acting differently. I know what's going on, but what it is doesn't give you the right to have the attitude you've had all day." 
I closed my eyes. "I know."
"So what happened?" he asked gently.
I rolled over onto my side. "Chris and I had a fight."
"Obviously."
I chewed on my lower lip. "He's in the hotel, Lance." I let it out bitterly.
"Chris? Um, yeah, he's in the other room . . ."
"No, not Chris. Him." I paused. "The man from that morning. . ."
"The gunman?" Lance demanded.
"Shh . . ." I hissed. "Yes!"
His eyes widened for a moment and then I could see his brain working. Don't jump to conclusions, he would tell himself. "Okay, start from the beginning," he requested. "You and Chris went downstairs to the arcade . . ."
I sighed and continued the story from there. I was anxious for Lance's reaction. I myself could barely think straight. I think I got all the details in there though.
"Okay . . ." Lance said as I finished. "First things first . . . Are you sure it was him?"
"I'd never forget that face," I assured.
"But, Justin, you've been thinking about the whole thing so much and you're tired . . . It's possible that you might have imagined it . . ."
"Imagined it? No," I insisted. "It was him. I swear to God, Lance. I saw him."
"I'll take your word for it. Now . . . Did he see you?"
"I don't think so. But I don't know. I really thought that he had and then he turned back around . . ."
Lance was quiet between details. "Does he know you're here?"
"Why else would he be here?"
"Looking for a room?"
"In this hotel? Coincidentally? I'm a little skeptical, Lance."
"I know . . . I'm just thinking of all the possibilities."
"But how does he know I'm here?" I asked hopelessly. "I mean, we're not that easy to find."
"I know . . ."
"So?" My voice was choked. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Well. You know what I think," he answered softly.
I did. I knew exactly what he was thinking. "But I can't," I objected.
"Justin . . ."
"I can't," I repeated in clear syllables. 
"Don't you see how serious this is becoming?" he challenged. "Look at you. You're going to make yourself sick over this and yet you refuse to get help. You can't handle it. For all you know you did just imagine it and—"
"But I didn't!" I cried. "I know I didn't."
"Just hear me out," he said harshly. "What if you did? Then do you understand what I'm saying? Look at your reaction to possibly nothing and think about it. How are you going to handle a tour, and the stress of our schedule, when you run yourself ragged with--"
"No," I moaned, burying my head in the pillow. He wasn't helping. He was offering alternatives that I couldn't consider. That I didn't want to hear. 
"Justin, I really think—" He broke off and I heard why. The door to the room was opening. I didn't bother to look up from my pillow.
"Hi, guys . . ." JC's voice came gently.
Sure, JC, come right in. Don't ask. Hell, don't even knock. This was become a full blown out event. I was sorry I'd left with Chris. Should have known drama would ensue. Should have gone to bed.
"I think we’re all just tired," I heard Lance say. JC must have been giving him a questioning look or something.
"So I see . . ." he replied. His voice was closer now. I felt him sit down next to me. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm trying to sleep," I said into the pillow. I didn't know whether he'd heard me. It sounded a little garbled by the fabric.
"But I heard you talking," came his objection. “You can talk a little more.”
My mind froze at that. He heard? What'd he hear? Just us talking? Or the conversation? Oh no.
"Eavesdropper," I accused. It was mumbled again. 
"No, I didn't hear what you said. Only that you were talking," he said. I felt his hand on my back. "Want to tell me what about?"
God damn you, JC. Just go away. I love you but go the hell away. Go back to sleep. There was no need for everyone to try to fix things with me.
"We just had a fight, and it’s over," I answered.
"Can you talk to me and not your bed?" he requested.
I smirked at his tone. He wanted to know so badly. But the bed just listens. I think I would actually rather talk to the bed. Thanks for the offer, but I— 
I cut myself off. This was JC. I rolled onto my back and looked up at him, giving him a 'this is getting old' look. 
"That's better." JC smiled. "What's the matter?"
I scrunched up my face and sighed. "Nothing, JC... Nothing. Can we just---"
"What was the fight about?" he asked. "You guys came back pretty heated. Is everything okay?"
"It's between Chris and me," I retorted. "Why do you need to know?"
"I think you told Lance, didn't you?" 
"Jealous?" I answered hotly.
"Justin," Lance hissed. I gazed over at him and found he was shooting me the glare of death at that point. Oh no. Is that everyone mad at me now? Aw, shucks.
I looked back at JC, slightly surprised that he hadn't said anything yet. I think he was waiting for me to continue. Well, ha, ha, I thought. I'm not going to . . .
I held his stare without blinking for a minute, and then he said "Fine, that's fine," quietly, and he got up and left the room. I bit my lip silently, a feeling of dread creeping into my gut. Shit. That wasn't supposed to happen. JC didn't do that.
"Why the hell did you just do that?" Lance asked after a moment of heavy silence. "You know if there was anyone I'd think you'd be talking to, Justin, it's definitely him."
I rolled back over onto my stomach and moaned into my pillow. I really felt sick now. "Uh...."
"Why don't you ever let anyone help you?" he continued. 
I felt like I was going to throw up and my head was pounding. This was too much. I couldn't in my right mind take it anymore. All the friends I had hated me and the guy whose hit-list I was on was wandering around the lobby of my hotel. Not exactly my best day. Now Lance's condescending voice filled the room.
"Of course, you don't really care, do you? I mean, after all, this is your problem, right?"
"What?" I rolled onto my side to view him.
"I mean, why'd you even tell me, anyway?" he persisted. His voice held anger that I hadn't been expecting. "Because it was convenient? Because you felt guilty and had to get it off your chest? Huh, Justin?"
My eyes filled involuntarily. "Because you were there . . . You asked me."
"Because I asked you," he repeated. "Whatever, Justin. That is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard. I also asked you to tell JC. I asked you to go to the police. JC himself just asked you. What happened those times?"
"Lance, I—"
"Look, Justin . . . I don't want to get mad and I don't want to tell you what to do. But I also don't want this to be my problem. Right now it is. And until you tell somebody else, it still will be. I won't let you involve me this way. I won't let this be my problem anymore."
"No, it's not," I objected softly, promising myself I was not going to cry.
"Yeah, it is. The other guys are worried sick about you, or at least they were . . . Now they're pissed off at you. But they want an answer and I have it. How's that supposed to make me feel? I'm trying to be a good friend and agree not to say anything, and that's bullshit. That's sacrificing my duty to my other friends."
"Fine," I replied sourly. "Next time I just won't tell you." 
"No, I'm glad you told me. This is too big for just you to hold on to, and I'm happy I was there. But I don't like having to keep this so quiet when it's so serious. Don't you understand where I'm coming from?"
"Pretend it didn't happen."
"Oh, is that what you've been doing? Well, that doesn't work, Just. You can't pretend for too long or it's going to blow up in your face." He paused. "And I think it already has for you . . . Look at JC and Chris."
"I wanted to tell them," I admitted with a sigh. I stared at the wall. 
"Then why didn't you?" His voice softened. I could tell he was doing some psychiatric thing; tell me all your worries, and I'll convince you to take this path sort of crap. It made me uncomfortable.
"I couldn't," I replied.
"Just couldn't? Justin, these are the closest people in the world to you.”
"It's not that easy, Lance . . ." Why won't you get it? I just can't.
"Of course it's not easy," he allowed. "But what are you afraid of? The repercussions? Because honestly whatever bad is greatly outweighed by the good in this situation."
"As soon as I tell anyone it doesn't make a difference. It doesn’t change what happened."
"No, but it changes what will happen."
That was true.
~~~~~
~~~~~
I took Lance's words to heart. My mind was polluted with thoughts of what if and consequences. Halfway through a nightmare I woke up sweaty and out of breath.
I froze in bed; my breathing quick and heavy. I was surrounded by total darkness and suddenly felt very alone. Fear entangled me as I fought with the blankets on my bed. The dream had been so unreal, so bizarre, yet it felt so real...
My nightmare came back in flashes with the rest of the days behind me. I could barely concentrate, there were so many images. I finally got the blankets off me and sat up, chilled and confused, as my eyes adjusted to the blackness.
I glanced at the clock. It read two-twenty-five. Great. Just great. 
I sat for a moment in reverie, listening to the eerie complete silence. I couldn't even hear Lance breathing it was so quiet. I didn't like it one bit.
Getting out of bed, I got that spooked feeling that something was watching me or that something was lurking in the shadows. Maybe under my bed. 
I walked quickly towards the door.
Justin, you're being childish, I told myself. Get over it. Just get over it. You're imagining everything, Just like Lance said.
I was exhausted as I left the room. I didn't know whether it was from the lack of sleep or the stress of the nightmare. I turned around after shutting the door and noticed that the television was on. The volume was on so low that I couldn't hear it though. I walked over slowly to see if JC was awake. 
He was lying out on the couch with a blanket on top of him. His eyes were closed and he looked asleep, but I knelt in front of him anyway. 
I shook his arm. "JC . . ." I whispered.
He didn't even stir. I poked him in the ribs. He moaned, and I was encouraged by the reaction. I poked  him again. 
"What . . ." he complained. He turned his head away from me.
"It's me, JC."
"Go away, me," he groaned. 
I was relentless and finally he opened his eyes and glared at me. 
"What time is it?" he demanded.
"Better you didn't know," I replied softly.
"Then you should be in bed."
"I tried, C." I gave him imploring eyes. "JC, I can't sleep at all."
"So you found it necessary to wake me?" he retorted. "I don't think so. Good night." He closed his eyes.
I tried to sit down on the edge of the couch in front of him and he let out another moan. "Get off. I mean it, Justin."
"I can't sleep," I said, ignoring him. "I just need you to--"
"Get off," he persisted.
I got up and sighed. "JC… Come on."
He sat up, rubbing his eyes and pushing his blanket off. "Sit down…" he sighed. 
I sat next to him. "I'm sorry for before." I took his blanket and pulled it over the both of us.
"For?" He was arranging the blanket over his legs and fixing his pillow in a sleepy daze.
"What I said to you before," I continued. "I didn't mean it."
"I know," he replied. He yawned loudly. "Whatever."
"And I wanted to tell you . . ." I took a deep breath. "I wanted to tell you what I told Lance too . . ." Was I going to do it? Was I going to tell him? Why not . . .
"Is this a long story?"
"Yeah."
"Then I'm going to get a drink. Do you want something?"
"Okay."
He got up and dropped the blanket on top of me. I waited as he went into the kitchen. He came back five minutes later.
"It's two-thirty," he said as he handed me a glass. "We're getting up at--"
"I know, JC." I took a sip. It was water. "Thanks."
"It's okay and you're welcome." He sat back down. "Why are you telling me now anyway? I asked you last night. Why tell me at two-thirty?"
"I know." I sighed. "Lance convinced me to tell you, but I didn't have the nerve until now because I couldn't sleep."
"Is this something bad?"
"Yes." I hesitated a little. I still wasn't quite sure what I was doing.
"How bad?" 
"I don't know. . ."
"Alright. Well, I guess I finally get to know what's going on with you."
"Right. Well, you can't say anything until I'm done," I warned. "Let me just explain."
"Okay." He nodded.
" You always interrupt."
"I won't," he replied, rolling his eyes.
Satisfied, I started. "Well, the other day, when I said I went to the lobby?" He nodded. "Well, I didn't exactly tell the whole story. . . In fact I cut it off quite early." I watched his expression; there was nothing. "I can't say it if you're going to be mad. JC, it only gets worse."
"I'm not saying anything, Justin."
"I know, but you've got that look."
"What look? I don't have a look. Go ahead. I don't know what this could be that's been such a big deal recently." 
"Yeah."
He looked at me suspiciously. "You woke me up at two thirty, Justin."
"Yeah, I've been having a hard time sleeping."
"Justin, come on now. What else happened that morning that is so important? I know that whatever you told Lance would explain why you've been acting the way you have the past few days."
I shrugged. "I haven't been acting any way."
He sighed. "Oh, yes you have. You definitely have."
Anyone could tell there was more to my story. I couldn't cover it up. The way I started it left only the truth. Unless I wanted to create something crazy. And I had no desire to complicate things even more.
"If I were to ask, Lance, would he tell me?" he asked.
He wouldn't.
"But why?” I started. “Why would you ask Lance?”
"Ah. . . I think I see the tip of the iceberg here. So there is--"
"Of course there is something, JC. I've already told you that. He wouldn't tell you anything. Not if he keeps promises," I replied.
"I thought your intention was to tell me now . . ." he stated. "So. Tell me. You want to tell me, or else you wouldn’t have woken me up, Jus. Why won't you?"
I made a face. 
"It must be some story. What about the person Chris said you saw?"
"What?" I narrowed my eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Chris explained what started your fight before. Why don't we start there. Who was this person that you thought you recognized?
"Nobody, JC. Nobody. Look, it's late and. . ." I started to stand up. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have started this.”
JC caught my arm. "Justin. Look, Jus, sit back down and we are going to finish this."
I saw down reluctantly and leaned my head back. "I'm sorry I woke you up, JC, but I just couldn't sleep. I had a bad dream and just wanted to talk to you, but now I'm tired and realized it’s stupid and especially now."
"So tell me about your dream, and maybe I can help you." He took a deep breath. "J, you always tell me."
"It's different." I rubbed my eyes. "You're tired too, JC."
JC sighed. “Fine, go to bed.”
I didn’t like his tone. "Can I watch TV with you for a little while?" I asked, hooking my arm through his. I did not want to end yet.
"Justin. Justin, no. You can't."
"Why not?"
"Is the person in your dream the person you saw while with Chris, Justin?"
"What? N-no. . . There was no person. . . No person at all, JC. I'm sorry I brought any of it up.”
"What can I do to make you tell me?"
I was silent. My arm was still locked on his.
“Do you not trust me?” he asked.
“Oh, JC, don’t be silly.”
"Justin, I want to help, but I can't if you don't let me." He paused. "Is this guy in your nightmare someone real?"
"There is no--"
"Justin, what happened recently that you don't want to tell me about? What did you do, or what did somebody else do? I know you want to tell me, and I don't know why you just won't.” He paused. "Are you going to tell me?"
I shook my head. 
"Justin, I can't help you then. And I'd appreciate if you didn't wake me up next time." He didn't sound angry, merely exasperated. But it was all the same.
"OK."
A moment passed. He sighed and somehow I realized that wasn't the answer he'd been looking for. "I hate secrets like this," he said.
"It's not a secret. Lance knows." I knew immediately that wasn't the right thing to say either. 
JC stared at me. "I'd like to know what's going on. It's affecting you and therefore affecting all of us and we can't have that happen."
"It's not affecting me," I objected.
"Then explain your moodiness, Justin. And your defensiveness to every little thing." He was quiet for a moment. "You wanted to tell me and I'm open ears. Tell me. Explain this whole conversation."
I paused for a moment, angry at myself. So, so angry. I couldn't though. I really couldn't. At the thought of saying anything about the other morning again, I was filled with anxiety. It was like those moments in a dream when you wanted to scream but you suddenly had no voice.
"I can't do this tonight."
"Okay," he conceded. "I'm getting too tired to argue." He reached over and ran his hand through my hair affectionately. “Way too tired.”
"Me too. I haven't been sleeping much," I admitted. 
His hand rested on my head, heavy. "Why not?"
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
"I think you do." 
"I don’t know, JC," I objected. I gripped the glass in my hand. "I don't want you to say anything anymore. I'm just. . ."
"Just what?"
"It's not that easy."
"You wake me up at two o'clock in the morning," he replied with a small smile, "just to irritate me, is that it?" 
"Right."
“Just to irritate me,” he repeated. 
"Enough, JC." I felt defeated but decided to play it off casually. Being with JC was more comforting than my sleepless bed anyhow.
JC began searching for something else on TV, holding the controller lazily. After a moment, he started to talk again.
"It's not the tour, is it?"
I leaned my head back. "No, JC."
"You'd tell me if it was?"
"JC. Touring's a little old by now, don't you think?" I rolled my eyes at him.
"Exactly."
"No," I responded. "It's not the tour."
"And you'd tell me."
"Yeah."
He seemed content enough with that, and I decided not to think about it anymore. He remained silent, and I sat complacently watching TV. 
I felt like I was staring through the TV more than at it.
~~~~~
~~~~~
I had successfully fallen asleep after the entire ordeal. But on the couch apparently, because that's where I was when I woke up. JC was in a recliner and the television was still on. Chris must have gone back to bed. 
I felt bad for JC. There he was and I couldn't tell him anything . . . I'd really wanted to last night, but I just froze. And then I'd taken over the couch. And his blanket . . . What was the matter with me? Why hadn't I just told him? If I had, this morning could be different. 
Maybe a bad different though.
I pushed the blanket off and got up, stretching. I turned and saw Joey in the kitchen having cereal and juice. So I wasn't the only one up . . . 
God, I was so annoyed with myself. I needed to just do it.
I walked into the kitchen and went for a glass in the cabinet.
"Good morning," Joey greeted somewhat cheerfully.
I grunted in reply and sat across from him at the table. I pushed my glass toward him and he poured me juice. "Thanks."
"Is there a reason why you were on the couch?" he asked as he pushed my glass back. 
I shook my head, taking a sip.
"So you just sort of changed sleeping arrangements?" 
I shrugged and put the glass down. "There a reason why you're up so God damn early?"
"You're up too," he replied.
I nodded my head. Yes, Joey. I am.
"Alright. . ." He shrugged. "Didn't sleep well?"
"What time is it?" I asked in a tired voice. 
"You're the conversationalist this morning!" he teased. He looked down at his wristwatch. "Six-thirty-five. We have to get up in about a half hour anyway."
"Oh."
"You look exhausted, bud."
"I slept," I replied. 
I just drank juice and watched Joey eat cereal. I was too tired not to be satisfied at that.
Lance walked in several minutes later. He gave me a funny look. "I was wondering where you were."
"I need to talk to you," I said earnestly. 
He nodded as he got a glass and a bowl before joining us at the table.
"What is it with you two and your private conversations recently?" Joey asked. "Forming a secret society?"
Lance looked at me and I shrugged. 
"What do you talk about?" Joey persisted.
"You," I replied. He gave me a look. I rolled my eyes. "None of your business."
"Planning something?"
"Not exactly."
Joey turned to Lance. "What have you got to say?"
"Pass the cereal," he said. Joey laughed.
"That's my cereal, you know," I objected.
"My cereal," Joey mimicked. 
"Just don't eat it all . . ." I muttered in annoyance.
"Guys," Lance objected.
"It's the morning," Joey said irritably. "Justin's cranky." 
“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes.
“Well, you are.”
“Uh-huh.”
JC walked into the kitchen then, stretching. “I'm so tired."
"Good morning," Lance said. 
And so the day began.
~~~~~
~~~~~
We left directly for the arena after a bustling morning in the hotel room. I wasn't thinking about much besides the practice and upcoming concert. I wanted to talk to Lance, but hadn't gotten a chance yet. Everyone had been in each other's space. Chris was just joking around and JC was back to his all-business Mr. Serious pseudonym.
Practice was tedious as usual. Autographs and hugs were passed around to those lucky teenyboppers who knew how to get into sound-check. They were really sweet and refrained from groping and grabbing though. Meeting them was followed by a lot of jumping around and sweating. It was really hot because it was an outdoor lawn arena and it was about eighty degrees today. And it was really humid. What happened to the nice fall weather anyway? So basically I sounded like crap and probably looked it too. 
"Who wants to go to the beach after this?" Chris asked during our break where we just sat around in folding chairs and drank water. Everyone looked sweaty and tired.
"We're near a beach?" JC asked. 
"About a half hour."
"Hm . . . Sounds nice . . ." he said slowly. 
"How long do we have free?" Lance asked.
"Concert's at seven," Joey said. "So if we finish up by, say, one here then we've got a few hours."
"Do we have to?" I asked. Those few hours would be my only time to visit Ashley. After the concert I'd probably be dead tired and it would be too late. I knew visiting hours weren't very late. I'd been lucky the first night. And I wanted to go down to the police station. Not as a witness or anything; I just needed to check it out. Find out what would happen.
"Why?" JC asked, giving me a look.
"I . . . I'm not feeling well," I lied. My gaze shifted to the floor. I hated lying to him more than anything.
He frowned. "Where?"
I'd been planning just to mean exhaustion but I felt the lies keep coming. "My head." I paused. "And my stomach." I didn't want to have to reply to 'take an Advil' or something. "And I'm just really tired. I'd rather just stick around here."
"Well," he started. "You can just sit . . ."
"Nah, I really don't feel like it . . ."
"Aw, who am I gonna drown now?" Chris teased.
"Why don't you just come, Justin?" Lance asked. Lance was staring at me really hard. I think he knew what I was up to. By his expression I could tell he didn't really seem too fond of the idea either. I just hoped he wouldn't give me away. And I still needed to talk to him to top it off. I took my gaze of him and put it back on JC for an answer. I told myself I didn't need an answer, but it would make me feel better.
JC shrugged. "Okay, then . . . But don't go out if you don't feel well. You've risked it too much lately and it's going to catch up to you."
I sensed something. Without pressing it, I replied, "'Kay."
"Okay, let's get back to work so we can get out of here," he said, getting up. He started for the stage area. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Lance, can we talk now?" I asked later as I followed him into our room. The other guys were changing for the beach. I shut the door.
"Yeah . . . But I've got to change," he replied.
"Whatever. I won't look." I sat on my bed facing the door, and he walked over to his bed. I let him start the conversation.
"Well, let me ask one thing now: You're feeling fine now, aren't you? Not sick like you told JC?" he asked.
"Um, yeah," I admitted. "Aside from anxiety and fatigue, if that counts."
"You're turning into a pathological liar."
"Don't say that," I implored. "Seriously. You know I have my reason."
"Debatable. So talk." 
"All right," I sighed. I studied the wall and began. "I talked to JC."
"Really?" He sounded surprised, but pleased.
"Well, sort of . . . Last night I couldn't sleep because I kept envisioning everything every time, so I woke up JC with every intention of telling him everything, but it didn't really work out. I started from the beginning but being the idiot I am . . . I chickened out." 
"Justin, Justin, Justin," was Lance's only reply.
"What am I gonna do?" I gripped one hand in the other. "I really tried, Lance, but, I don't know . . . I couldn't convince myself that it would fix anything."
"Well, what'd he say?"
"What was there for him to say?'" I answered. Then, I groaned. "I know it shouldn't be so difficult. I really do. But I'm scared to say anything about it. Even to him. What will it fix?"
"Let me do it."
"No."
"What's the big deal, Justin? We need to get this taken care of and I am getting sick of being your confidant." He paused. "You can turn around now."
I didn't turn; I stayed flat on my back on the bed, hands behind my head. "I'm so confused . . ." I glanced over. He was in swimming trunks and a t-shirt.
"Are you visiting her today? That's your plan?" he asked.
"Uh-huh."
"Be careful. Please, Justin."
"I'll be fine. I don't understand why everyone treats me like a fucking five year old. What time would be good to come back?" I asked.
He glanced at his watch. "Um . . . I wouldn't stay too long. I'm guessing we'll be back by five-thirty or so . . ."
"Okay." I nodded. "Take as much time as you want, you know. You can drive really slow. Enjoy the scenery . . ."
"Whatever. See you later, okay?" He started for the door.
"Yep, yep . . ."
~~~~~
~~~~~
It was four o'clock when I was walking out of McDonald's from lunch and towards the police station. I was in a lot lower spirits then I had been before. I visited Ashley and she seemed worse. Her color was really pale and she seemed to be in a lot of pain, although she didn't say anything. The nurses wouldn't say much to me and neither would Ashley. In fact, she was really unresponsive when I talked to her. I couldn't even make her smile. I thought that you get better in the hospital. She seemed to be regressing.
They said that she was on a lot of medication. That there had been some new developments. Of what nature I didn't know. The nurses hadn't let me stay long either. I don't think I'd even been there ten minutes and they were ushering me out, saying that Ashley needed her rest. And I couldn't argue with that. She seemed exhausted. 
I reached the police station, which was just down the street. It was really ominous to me. Going inside seemed as bad as venturing into the depths of hell. Cops were supposed to help you. That's what they were there for . . . I had to assure myself of this.
I walked up the steps of the brick two-story building and pushed open the doors. Inside I was met with a foyer of sorts that looked pretty banal with a wooden bench here and a plant there. There were several doors. I was the only one there. I walked up to a glass window where a woman sat, smacking gun. She wore a black uniform and had frizzy red hair.
"Hello. Can I help you?" she asked, looking up as I approached. She blew a pink bubble and it snapped loudly. 
I quickly thought of a cover.
"Hi. . ." I don't know why she intimidated me. I guess it was just the atmosphere. I pretended I was just playing a part. "I'm doing a report for a class about different, uh, procedures of law, and I was sort of wondering if you could give me some information?"
"Okay, honey, what do you need?" She leaned back in her chair.
"There's just a few questions I have . . ." I replied, gaining a little confidence. 
I asked general questions about being a witness to a crime. She was nice enough and provided fairly broad but informative answers. She told me about how much witnesses helped investigations, and the importance of their testimonies in litigations and convictions. 
She talked a little about procedures and the witnesses bill of rights as she went on about the justice system. I was filled with an awful anxiety by the end of it all and pretty soon, I started to just thank her for her time, hoping that I could leave.
"Are those all your questions?" she asked.
I looked up. "Yeah." I nodded. "Thank you."
"Sure, anytime, kid. Good luck." She smiled and turned back to some paperwork.
I walked out in more despair then I'd walked in with. I looked at my watch. Oh well. I guess I'll be back early, I thought with a sigh. Great. 
I was walking down the street when suddenly something hit me from behind and I was pushed into an alley. I fell to the ground, catching myself with my hands on the hard pavement before I could fall flat on my face. I scrambled to my feet and spun around.
The woman who had been with the man that one morning was standing there. Her long blonde hair was down and she wore a black leather jacket and jeans. She glared at me.
I panted from the ground and suddenly it seemed my whole life flashed before me.
"So how's life of the rich and famous?" she asked. 
I managed to finally move as I wiped my hands of on my jeans. They were wet and so were my knees. My palms were cut open, filled with dirt and gravel, stinging. I got to my feet.
"So, you're trying to be sneaky, huh?" As she approached I backed up. In a moment I found myself backed up against the brick wall of the alley. I was so close to her now, frozen in fear. "Thinking we wouldn't notice?"
"I don't understand," I began.
"Sure you do. What were you doing in there?'
"Where?"
Unexpectedly, her hand shot up and slapped me across the face. I stared at her too stunned to really react.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you prick," she snapped. "What were you doing in the police station?"
"Research," I replied, slightly shaking. I glanced down and for the first time noticed a gun in her other hand and my pulse began to get faster. I immediately regretted my day. "Are you following me? Why are you following me?"
"Just a hobby I picked up a few days ago," she returned. "What the hell do you mean research? Listen, if you know what's good for you—"
"I asked a few questions," I said honestly. "Really, that's all."
"Oh, that's all?" she persisted.
"I haven't said anything to anybody." I shook my head. "Really, I haven't." I could my heart pounding in my ears.
"We discussed whether or not you'd be a problem. Whether we should have followed you out right away and just taken care of it. But with who you are." Her eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't be too fucking easy, would it, Timberlake?"
"Perks to fame," I responded wryly.
She punched me in the stomach hard. I bent over in agony, tears rushing to my eyes. I honestly didn't know a girl could hit that hard. I felt nauseous, but I really didn't want to see my lunch again. I tried to stand straight through the pain. "I said I didn't say anything . . ." I strained in a broken voice. "Why are you doing this?"
"I know." She pushed me up straight and held me against the wall. She was going to kill me. I knew it. "Just think," she said. "That's for doing what you're supposed to be doing." Her hand grabbed my hair and pulled back, making me look up at her. "Don't go to the police again," she said. "That's a warning. That's an order. Don't ask questions. Don't do anything. Just keep your mouth shut, and forget everything." 
"Why'd you do it?" I choked, staring into her dark, demonic eyes. 
"Got to live."
"But you killed somebody." 
She didn't even blink. "And the other one too if you don't kept your mouth shut, you asshole. Starting to get it? I know you have a little relationship with her. I've noticed your visits. I wouldn't want to ruin that."
I closed my eyes.
"In case you haven't noticed," she said. "The security at the hospital isn't too great. In fact, neither is it at your hotel." She let me go. "In other words, don't screw with us. You won't be here long, but we'll know where you go. Your schedule isn't exactly top secret."
I opened my mouth to speak, but she shook her head, waving the gun in my face. "Uh-uhn . . ." she said. "That's it. Have a good concert tonight, Justin. Wait ten minutes before leaving here or I'll shoot you on the spot. Time it."
I made like I was looking at my watch, and she left quickly. I was breathing heavily. My stomach and head really did hurt now. My heart was racing so fast I thought I would have a heart attack. I wanted to get to the hotel. Actually, I wanted to go home. Forget the concert. 
I slid down to sit on the ground, shock taking over me. I wished immediately I had gone to the beach with the guys. None of this would've happened then. Maybe this was another dream. I was sleeping. Lance was only about fifteen feet away, JC was just in the other room, and I was in bed. 
It hurt too much to be a dream. 
I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes . . . Was she serious? I tried to get up, but I was extremely weak, overcome by fear, anxiety, and pain. I used the alley wall to lean against. I had to catch my breath. My nerve.
Eventually I forced myself out of the alley, and I got a cab to the hotel. The driver must have noticed how out of it I was in because he kept asking if I was okay. I acted like I was fine. 
Once I got to the hotel, all I wanted was to take some pain relievers, change, and go to bed forever. I hated being alone though. I hated walking down the hall in agony with the knowledge that most likely someone was watching. That was the scariest thing. 
As soon as I got inside, I triple locked the door. I'd have to let the guys in, but I didn't feel safe any other way. I went to my room and stared at the bed. It was calling my name. But I couldn't fall asleep because I needed to hear the guys' knock. I went and got some jeans and a sweatshirt and then went to the bathroom.
Once in there, I rummaged through the cabinets. I found Advil and took four. It sounds like a lot, but the back said that as long as I didn't exceed six in twenty-four hours, it would be fine. Besides, I really, really needed it. I needed to sit down after that. I was in a lot of pain and started to get weak. I sat on the bathroom floor and pulled off my sneakers. My hands hurt like glass was piercing them. 
I looked at my palms. The flesh was ripped and I could see little pieces of gravel and dirt with traces of blood. Then I gazed at my knees. My jeans were a bit torn and really dirty and wet. I pulled them off slowly, my hands giving me a bit of trouble. My knees themselves weren't bad. They were slightly scraped but clean. That was good. They felt like they were burning though. 
I pulled off my shirt and looked down at my stomach. It was pinkish red and showing some bruising where she'd hit me under the ribs. I wondered if it would leave a mark. It hurt like hell. I hoped she hadn't damaged anything.
I decided to ignore it for now. Maybe Lance could help me later. Or at least know what to do. Even better, maybe I wouldn't feel it later. I pulled on the other pair of jeans and the sweatshirt and pulled myself up. I grabbed the old clothes and walked out to put them back in my room. I'd get my sneakers another time. 
After just throwing them next to my bed, I went back inside and relaxed on the couch, putting my feet at one end and my head at the other. I touched my stomach experimentally and it hurt worse. I didn't think that was too good of a sign. Sighing, I reached for the controller and flipped on the TV, wanting the guys to get back.
It wasn't much longer until they did. The knocking was loud and clear and I jumped up. Big mistake. Pain shot through my body, and again I was sharply reminded of today's events. 
I looked through the peephole to make sure it was them. Assured, I undid the locks and pulled the door open. 
It was time to exhibit my acting abilities. 
"Hey, guys," I greeted with what must have been the stupidest smile in the world.
"Why was the door locked with the chain and stuff?" Joey asked as they walked passed me. I shut it behind them and relocked it. "Scared of something?"
"Um, force of habit," I replied. "So, how was the beach?" I made my way quickly over to the couch and sat down, trying to get my muscles to untighten. 
All together. This could be my moment of truth. The moment to get everything over with.
Why did I suddenly have no voice?
"It was so funny," Chris started. "Joey swore he saw a shark and everyone started screaming because they overheard him."
Joey shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, well . . ."
"It caused this huge panic." JC smirked.
"Then he got a lecture from the lifeguard about the boy who cried wolf," Lance said. "It was hilarious."
"I did too see a fin," Joey replied bitterly. 
"Right . . . A fin."
"Hey, you don't look too good . . ." JC sat on the table in front of the couch and was suddenly directly in front of me. "How you feeling?"
Speak. "I'm okay."
He felt my forehead. "Did you eat lunch?"
"Yes." 
"I'm going to go shower," Chris said. "I'm all sandy." 
"I've got to change," Lance replied. They both left.
"Is your stomach still bothering you?" JC continued.
Things had changed completely. "A little." I nodded. Justin, you're an idiot. Look at him. This is the perfect time.
How was it perfect? Right before a show? Just imagine the kind of mess would that cause. Huge mess. Before a show is the worst timing.
The show. They'd be watching the show…
"Any better?"
"I'm fine." I felt like crying. I wasn't lying this time about anything was hurting me. It really did hurt. More than the physical pain I felt like screaming. I didn't know what to do.
"You don't look fine, J. Why don't you go lay down . . . I'm going to go change before Chris takes over the bathroom, and I'll be back in a second." He grabbed some clothes and started away.
Joey sat down next to me heavily. I winced.
"You've got to be better in an hour, you know," he said seriously.
What if they really did come to the show? What if their threats were for real? Of course they were. Look at what had just happened. I thought. An hour? Is he kidding? I remembered the woman and how she knew about the concert. I thought about the outside arena, their threats, and the look in her eye, and barely realizing it I began crying; turning my head.
"Hey, now," Joey started as he noticed. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head and wiped the tears hastily. I cursed myself. I couldn't stop. "Nothing."
"Come on… Doesn't seem like nothing."
What could I say to that? It wasn't. It was everything. Joey's big hand rubbed my back for a few seconds, and I knew he didn't know what to do with me. I knew how random it looked. So I tried to stop, or at least hide it.
"Justin," he persisted.
"No," I said quickly. "I'm fine. I just—"
I cut myself off as JC came back into the room mid-sentence. "I meant to ask you guys, also if—" He paused and looked at me. "What now, Jus?"
"Nothing," I said again. I wiped my face hastily. 
JC walked back in and took the seat on the other side of me. "What'd you do to him, Joe?"
"Me?" Joey asked incredulously. "I didn't do anything."
I leaned over and put my head in my hands, wishing they'd go away. A hand softly started rubbing my back. 
"What's the matter?" JC asked.
I took a deep breath and sat back up. "It's nothing. Just..." I took in another breath. "Just nerves I think, you know?"
"No, I don't know…" JC responded. "What's up?"
"I'll be fine," I replied. I didn't want to go to the show. Performing was my escape, but still, this feeling of terror filled me when I thought about being out in the open like that. But I couldn't say it, I couldn't even consider it. There would be no way I could justify missing a show.
JC's hand brushed my forehead. "You think you're coming down with something?"
I shrugged and simply stared at my shoes. 
A few seconds passed in silence before JC got to his feet again and tugged my arm. "Rest up before we have to leave, Justin, alright?"
"Yeah." I stood with him slowly and wondered what I should do. Say something? But not before a show. I couldn't have things get so complicated before a concert.
JC told me to go lay down, and I didn't disagree. There wasn't much I could do otherwise.
Lance eyed him cautiously when I entered our room, folding something on his bed. He studied me for a moment before simply saying, "Hey."
"Hey," I answered, going to sit down. I pressed tenderly against my stomach, feeling the ache and wondering how badly that would affect my choreography. I would try to ignore it.
"What?" I asked when I noticed Lance's stare.
"You crying?"
"I don't feel well," I answered softly.
"Didn't you make that up?"
"Well, now I really, really don't feel well."
"Okay, what happened?" he sighed.
"Nothing." 
"So you're not even telling me now?"
I sighed and gave Lance a look. "Look," I help up my hands, "I give up. I don't know why—"
I slowed and trailed off when Lance approached me suddenly and took me by the wrist. 
"What's this from?" he demanded.
I stared at my scraped up hands for a moment. Then I fisted my hand in a painful attempt to hide the cuts even though it was too late. 
"Did you fall?" he asked.
I hesitated. "Sort of," I mumbled.
"Yeah, well you sort of neglected to clean it out, too," he replied. "There's still gravel and stuff in it. How'd you fall?"
I was quiet. "I don't know." 
"Justin, I know for a fact that you're not that accident prone. What happened today?" 
He waited and I didn't answer.
"Did you hurt anything else?"
I shrugged.
"God, Justin . . . What happened?" 
"Look, Lance, I'm supposed to be resting," I said.
"Fine. Rest away." He went back over to his side of the room.
"Lance," I objected. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine." He was putting his folded clothes back into his bag. "I know how much you like your secrets recently."
We said little else to each other before the show. I went back into the bathroom to try to clean out my hands more. While I was using soap and gently trying to use a washcloth to clean the scrapes, JC walked in, combing back wet hair with a towel over his arm.
"You doing okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine, JC," I answered. "I don't know why I got upset."
He dropped his towel over the rack before turning back to me. "What are you doing?" he began, looking at my hands. "How'd you do that?"
"Oh, dumb thing before," I answered with a shrug. "It's fine."
He nodded, watching me for a moment. "You know you're worrying me, right?"
"Just a scrape…"
"Not that, Justin."
I looked up and met his eye. "Well it's your decision to worry or not, JC."
"I can't help it when you act like this."
I turned off the water and dropped the wet facecloth on the edge of the sink. I used a fresh towel to dry off my hands, which did look considerably better. "Are you really going to try to have this conversation fifteen minutes before we have to leave, C?"
"Are you implying that there is a conversation to have?"
"No. Just that now's not really the time, is it?"
He nodded. "When is the time then, Jus?"
I smirked at him. 
"Yeah, exactly," he answered with a similar smile. "Exactly."
"Don't worry about it, JC."
"Just don't give me a reason to worry. Like crying."
I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. "Forget it, JC."
"For now," he agreed.
~~~~~
~~~~~
The show was uneventful, and halfway through I almost began to feel relieved. Both that nothing was going to happen and that I hadn't tried to pull out of performing. I should have known that performing was something I could fall back on. Even despite my acute aches, it was nice to have a predictable event. 
I had just grabbed a water bottle mid-costume change when I noticed a note that was tucked into the pocket of my next outfit. I pulled it out carefully, a chill creeping down my spine. I opened the small folded sheet and studied it. 
Enjoying the performance. We'll be in touch. 
I closed my eyes. They were here? How did they get backstage? Were they still here? I was suddenly terrified again. They'd been so close to me. To the guys. 
Chris slapped me on the back a second later and I almost dropped my water bottle. "Hurry up, Justin," he said. "You have thirty seconds to change."
I didn't have time to think. I couldn't. I folded up the note shakily and stuffed it away.
We were surrounded by security; this wasn't possible. That was all I could manage to think.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"How come you're going to bed so early?" 
I opened my eyes at Chris's voice and groaned as he jumped onto my bed. The lights were off so I could barely see him. I'd gone to bed as soon as we'd got in to the hotel, basically pulling the covers over my head and zoning out with headphones on my head. Joey had dragged JC out and they were long gone, out to a club for a bit. Lance was watching TV, last I knew.
"It's not early," I replied groggily. "It's . . ." I glanced at the clock. ". . . twelve-thirty."
"My point exactly," Chris replied.
"Stop jumping around," I groaned. The truth was that every move made felt like her foot had gone all the way through my gut. If I was still, I got minimal relief at the most, which was better than nothing. I had outdone myself at the show and with my aches from before it wasn't a good combination.
He settled for sitting at the foot of the bed by my feet. I closed my eyes.
"You're tired?" He actually sounded sympathetic. "Still a little run down?"
"Yes," I answered stiffly. "You can let me sleep now."
"Well, I was just worried about you . . ." he replied. "We haven't talked for a while."
"No," I agreed. 
"Oh, come on, J, I'm being nice." 
"Sorry." I took a breath. "I just really don't feel good and thought I could rest." I stretched my arms up and began to sit up. "Wasn't really expecting a conversation. But I'm now up." 
"What's with the bruise?" he asked.
Immediately I looked down to see my stretching had caused my shirt to lift, revealing a bit of the darkened bruise that had formed on my abdomen. It did not look good.
Chris must have noticed my look of alarm and immediately he moved up closer. "Justin, what's that from?"
I pulled my shirt down and gave a fake yawn. "Nothing, Chris. Look, I'm just really tired and—"
"I don't think so," he answered. "What's that from?"
I chewed on my lip. This was awkward.
"Justin."
"Look, it's just a bruise and—"
"Justin. What's it from?"
"I guess I'm a klutz."
"What's up with you? We all know something's going on recently. What are you getting yourself into?"
"Oh, Chris," I sighed. 
"Don't bullshit me."
Chris was serious. It wasn't going to be easy to get out of this one, if at all possible. I sat up straighter and felt my heart begin to race a little faster. It felt like judgment day; it was the moment that everything came down to. I almost wanted to call for Lance only because he knew what was happening. Or he knew part of it and would understand.
"Don't look at me like you're scared of me," Chris persisted. "Just tell me what the hell is going on with you, and I'll be content with that."
"It's not that easy…"
"So something is going on?"
"Something's always going on, Chris."
"Justin, don't try to be a smartass or talk around it. I think we're beyond that, don't you? You've made it pretty clear that something is going on, and I'm just worried about how serious it might be."
Tell him. I begged myself to do it. This was it. It was time to do it. Chris was older, wiser, and usually surprisingly patient. 
This wasn't going to end. I couldn't keep lying to myself.
"Okay," I began.
"Okay? You want to tell me?"
I began to push the covers back and get out of bed. "We need Lance," I began.
"Why?"
"He knows," I admitted.
Chris said nothing, merely followed me out of the room to where Lance was watching TV. Lance looked up at my approach and put the volume lower. He could tell something was going on.
"What?" he asked.
"I'm going to tell Chris," I said. I settled on the couch beside him. "And tell you more." 
Lance looked at Chris, who was sitting down as well. "Okay…"
Chris had concern clearly written on his face. "What's going on?" he asked gently. "This is a big deal, isn't it? Whatever you're about to tell me?"
It was that moment where you want to speak but your voice has disappeared. 
"Just tell him, Justin," Lance said. "It's been a secret long enough."
"I know…" I looked at both of them, gaze unwavering. I shifted my sight from one to the other evenly. It was time to make a decision.
The pros and cons flashed through my head. I thought about how miserable I had been hiding things from the guys and the consequences of trying to do this on my own. 
It was impossible.
I had to do it. 
It was just starting the story that was the difficult part. But as soon as I could do that, I'd be fine.
I wound up telling everything. They both stayed silent throughout my story as I led up from the initial events to the police station, the alley encounter, and the note from the show. I kept my voice steady and spoke as if I was telling a fictitious story and not a personal experience.
I tried not to watch their expressions as I spoke. I didn't want to see what was on Chris's face. Anger or surprise or something else equally as scary to see. I didn't want to see Chris's complacency change. I didn't want to look at him. 
But finally I had to.
"Fuck," he said. "Are you kidding me…" 
"I wish I was," I mumbled.
"And you knew all this?" Chris asked Lance. "For real? This has been going on since that morning?" At no reply, he persisted. "Why didn't you tell anybody?"
"Why?" I echoed. "How could I? What's it going to fix? I can't go back in time."
"Justin, you can't just ignore it," he persisted. "That's not the answer at all. How could you think that just by keeping it to yourself that it would work out? We need to go to the police, we need to tell Johnny, we need to make sure that you can ID these people and—"
"I don't want to!" I replied. "I don't want anything to do with it!"
"But you're everything to do with it, Justin, don't you see that? Don't you see that you have the most important piece of the puzzle?" he asked. "God, if you've just heard the news recently. They have no idea who's responsible for what happened."
"I can't go to the police. What if—"
"Don't be ridiculous. You have to. Tomorrow we have to right away and—"
"No, Chris, you don't understand. If they see that I—
"Justin. Listen to yourself."
"I am." I took a deep breath. Don't cry, Justin. He's not mad at you. We're all on the same page now.
"Maybe we should discuss this in the morning," Lance suggested softly. 
I nodded agreeably, staring at the carpet. 
After a moment Chris agreed. "Fine. Tomorrow morning. But definitely tomorrow morning."
My stomach turned. I realized things were going to rapidly pick up. I wasn't sure in what way but I could feel the change coming.
~~~~~
~~~~~ 
We actually had the next day off. So I was happy. Even before I had my cereal. Ah . . . A day of relaxation and recuperation. Pure bliss. Or it would have been if it didn't feel like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. 
Lance was already up when I finally got up. It was ten o'clock and I was content that I had slept that long. Maybe today would be a good day. Maybe today things would get sorted out. I wanted to wash my hands of the whole mess. I knew it wouldn't be that easy though. To begin with, there was no way I could possibly forget about things, and thinking about it was one of my biggest problems. 
Showering, I scrutinized my stomach and the bruise that had given me away. It was still purplish and hurt when I pressed down on it or stretched too much. But it wasn't that big a deal. Really it was just another reminder.
Chris hadn't under- or overreacted to the news last night. Well, that was hard to judge since I had no idea what to expect out of him. It still kind of scared me to think about the guys knowing, and what their reaction would be. I had the feeling that Joey and JC might be clued in before I got the opportunity to say anything too. 
When I got to the kitchen, Joey and Lance were there eating cereal and toast. I figured Chris and JC were still sleeping and got myself a bowl. 
"Good morning," I said as I sat down next to Joey. 
"Hey, bud," Joey replied, leaning back in his chair. "Sounds like you belong in a Grisham book or something, huh?"
I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was looking for more information or whether he had been totally clued into the situation. His tone seemed surprisingly blasé and I wasn't sure how to respond.
I looked at Lance who simply shrugged and replied, "JC and Joey know too, Justin."
I got up to get a glass for juice.
"We all need to talk about this," Joey said.
"No shit," I answered.
"Okay, well it's just that you've decided to ignore it for so long that I want to make sure…"
"Joey, drop it for now," Lance replied softly.
"It's a big deal," Joey objected.
I sat back down at the table despite my desire to just go back to bed. Pouring myself juice, I said, "We'll talk about it later."
"Today?"
I ignored him. "So are we totally free today?"
"Actually… no," Lance replied.
"No?" I echoed in disappointment. "And why not? I was sure we were."
"Because Johnny wanted to squeeze in another interview."
"Ugh!" I groaned. "With who?"
"Teen People or something like that," he answered.
"Can't they just call whoever we did the interview with the other day and get the answers? I mean, I didn't change my ideals since then, did you?"
Lance just stared at me. "Justin, you have no idea what you're talking about."
"Whatever. I still think that they could do it that way. Like, my favorite color's still blue."
"What if they had a different question?" Joey asked through a mouthful of cereal.
"You're stupid," I replied, not having an answer.
He shrugged and took a drink from his glass.
"Good morning, everyone!" came Chris's cheery voice from the doorway as he walked in. "How's everybody doing?"
No one answered. By the time he had gotten a bowl and a glass and was sitting down next to Lance, I think he'd given up. I didn't blame him.
I watched him pour the cereal. A little bit came out and then the rest was powder. "All right, who ate the last of the cereal?" he moaned.
No one replied.
"Well, we have quite the morning crew here," he muttered as he got up to get another box of cereal. "What's the plan for the day?"
"Johnny changed our plans slightly," Lance said again.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. JC told me about that yesterday. Bastard," he said good-naturedly. He turned to me and said, "You should try to get yourself checked out today too."
"Huh?" My glass of juice nearly slipped out of my hand. "What are you talking about?"
"That." He pointed to my stomach. "You should get that checked out."
"Why?"
"Because, J. It looked like hell last night."
"You barely saw!"
"That's what I'm talking about."
"Can I see?" Joey began, hand reached for the edge of my shirt.
"Joey, get the hell off, you perve," I retorted, slapping his hand away.
"Jesus, you sound like my last date," he answered with a smirk. "Calm down. I haven't been told all the details yet, you know."
"Doesn't matter. Don't touch me." I looked at Chris. "I'm not going to a doctor. It's just a bruise."
"We should make sure," Chris said. "Some bruises are more serious than others."
I was exasperated. "But I won't know any doctors here . . ."
"What if you broke a rib or something?" He eyed me. "From what you were telling us from your story last night, anything's possible."
"It hurts below the ribs," I informed.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"No."
"You swear?"
"Yes."
"You're not just trying to get out of a hospital visit?"
"Hospital?" I immediately envisioned the emergency room and chaos. Then Ashley. I swallowed.
"Well, where else would we go?"
I shrugged. "Can we talk about this another time?"
"You keep saying another time, Just," Joey began. "Another time to talk, another time to follow up on things, another time—"
"I mean after I eat," I interrupted.
"Yeah, yeah."
"I'm going to go wake up JC," Lance said. "Otherwise he'll sleep until the cows come home."
"But Joey's right here," I objected with a laugh. 
"Funny." Joey rolled his eyes.
"Where'd you and Jayce go last night?"
"Well, we were too tired to really go clubbing," Joey replied, "so we went to this one place and just sort of hung out for a while."
"What kind of place?"
"A regular place."
"Regular . . ." I echoed. "Hm . . ."
"Whatever kind of place you're thinking about, you're probably wrong, pal. But go ahead and use your measly imagination."
Lance came back, and JC walked in a couple minutes after in sweats and a t-shirt. His hair was all messed up, sticking up in odd directions.
"Morning after," Chris began. "It's a good look for you."
He sat down tiredly. "Is that so . . ."
"You know," Chris said slowly. "I think, the more sleep you get, the more tired you are. It's like an addiction."
"I'm not more tired," JC replied. "I just woke up, is all."
"But you want to go back to bed, right?"
"Well, yeah, I guess."
"See? That proves my theory!"
"Sleepaholic," I said.
"Exactly!" Chris exclaimed.
"Yeah, right," JC muttered. "That must be it. How you feeling, Justin?"
"Fine," I replied. He looked at me. "Really. I'm fine."
"How can you go from being like you were yesterday to being fine?" he replied. He was giving me that patronizing look, and I wish I didn't have to have this conversation right here at breakfast.
"I don't know . . . I am . . ."
"Okay . . . We'll see," he replied. "What's there to eat?"
"Cereal," Lance said. "But I vote for eating out some place nice before the interview for lunch."
"Sounds good to me, too," Joey agreed. "I always vote yes for food."
"Me three," JC said.
"But—" I began.
"You go where ever we go," Joey replied. "Not to burst your bubble or anything."
Great. That was worse than bodyguards. How was I going to get out to see Ashley? I should have expected this. Although I realized suddenly that I wasn't hiding it anymore. Maybe I could really tell them how I had to visit her. I didn't have to sneak away now.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Hey, Justin, come here," JC called as were leaving the kitchen. He was still sitting at the table. Reluctantly, I turned back. The others had left the kitchen already and it was just the two of us. He got up and started putting his bowl and stuff in the sink.
"You want to talk now?" he asked. 
"I know what you're going to say," I began. "How could I not tell you and how did I think I could keep it from you and how terrible that is of me and how now I’m—"
"Hey, chill," he interrupted, shaking his head. "Calm down, Justin." He sat down again. "That's not what I was going to say."
"But you're thinking it. You're thinking that you're angry."
"No, I'm not."
I sat down at the cleared table next to him. "Not at all?"
"I won't lie. I was slightly… Well, I guess disappointed is more the word to use than angry. And it goes both ways. Just because I knew something was going on. Something serious. And still wasn't able to find out. 
"I know I should have told you. And even when I knew it was impossible. Even last night when I finally realized I had to tell Chris."
"You'd rather ignore it."
"Yeah."
"You've never been the confrontational one," he answered.
I shrugged.
"Yesterday was scary, huh?"
He knew. They must have told him everything. I didn't say anything, but I simply nodded. 
"Can I see what she did to you?"
"You mean, like, show and tell?"
He smiled wryly. "Sort of I guess. You want to show me?" 
"You're not angry with me, are you?"
He sighed. "It was weird to get details secondhand, I admit that. Usually I can just trust to hear it from you, you know?"
"Is that angry?"
"No, Jus. It's not."
"I didn't mean for it to happen that way," I replied, shifting uncomfortably. I felt really bad. "No one knew. Lance knew the beginning of the story but not even the middle or even where it had gotten to."
"How'd you wind up telling Lance first?"
I shrugged. "Right place, right time. All that kind of stuff." I looked at JC. "You know, it feels good you knowing. I like talking to you about it."
He just kind of rolled his eyes. "Except you didn't tell me anything."
"I know… But you know what I mean."
"Show me what happened yesterday." 
"Okay, you can see. But I'm going to warn you, don't jump to conclusions. It's not as bad as it looks…"
He reached for my shirt. "Sure it's not," he replied, pulling it up. I saw his expression change. "This happened yesterday?" he asked softly.
"Yeah," I answered. I tugged the shirt down and pushed his hands away. "Satisfied?"
"No. Not at all. Does it hurt?" 
I hesitated. "Only when you touch there . . ."
"How about when you move around?"
"Sometimes . . . I guess."
"And you were going to ignore it?" His tone rose.
I winced. "Well, it's not ignored, so could you please not get angry now?"
He sighed. "I can't believe you were going to ignore it."
"I wasn't. I would've told you."
"Well, you didn't. I was wondering why you were bawling over a stomach ache," he replied.
I colored and shrugged.
"What do you say about a doctor?" he asked.
"I say unnecessary," I replied. 
"I don't think so," he considered. "That looked pretty serious, don't you think?"
"Not really. I told you it's not as bad as it looks, JC. Why won't you take my word for it?" 
"Because you've been lying to me this whole week," he replied. "I know you don't want to face all of this, Justin, but you're going to have to."
I met his eye angrily. "I haven't been lying to you JC."
"Oh, Justin…"
"I haven't!"
"Yeah, right," he replied. "Like, 'Yeah, JC, I uh, went down the street. That's it.' Huh? That doesn't quite compare to witnessing a murder and being hunted down." 
"Well, you were so mad that I'd left the hotel room that morning!" I retorted. "How was I supposed to know how you'd react to the rest of it? You always overreact!"
"That's no excuse! I get mad so that you maybe think twice the next time. I don't get mad if you need my help. And Lance had no right to hold it from the rest of us either."
"I made him swear he wouldn't. It's not his fault."
I could sense JC's mood shifting. Right after I made sure he wasn't angry the cards were changing.
"You're right. It's not Lance's fault. It's yours. You shouldn't have made him promise. That was stupid to do in a situation like this." 
"Well, excuse me for being scared," I shot back, getting up. He grabbed my arm, but I slipped out of his grasp and walked out of the kitchen. Joey was on the couch so I sat next to him. I couldn't deal with JC being mad about all this. I didn't want him mad at me. I just wanted all of this to be over.
"Hey, what's up?" Joey asked.
"Nothing." I shook my head. "JC's pissing me off. So what are you watching?" I asked him. 
"The news. What's up with you and JC?" 
"What's on the news?"
"Surprisingly enough, your little murder mystery."
"It's not mine," I snapped. "What'd they say?"
"Actually . . . the little old lady's funeral is tomorrow." He watched me for a reaction.
"Really? When? Where??"
"Whoa, boy! Slow down."
JC walked in and I just looked at him. I didn't want to discuss it now. He sat down in the chair and I ignored him. 
"Do you think it would be possible for me to go?" I began.
"I don't think so . . ." JC began. "What if that man or woman is there? You really didn't even know her, J."
"I didn't ask you," I replied. Joey elbowed me for being rude and I groaned as he hit my side. "Oww..." 
"Sorry," he apologized immediately, putting a hand on my leg. "You okay, bro? Sorry."
"I'll be fine . . ." I replied stiffly. 
"I think we should bring you to a doctor," JC said, frowning. "Look at you."
"JC, drop it," I pleaded.
"Fine. But anyway, I don't think you can go to her funeral. What's your interest anyway?"
"I feel like I should, JC. I really feel like I should."
"If we try to make it so that you can go, will you let me bring you to a doctor?"
Hm . . . A deal. "JC, I really don't think it's necessary... It's just a bruise."
"You have to go to the doctor. Half your job is physical activity, don't be dumb." 
"We have a show tomorrow anyway," Joey objected. "He can't possibly go."
"The show is still here though," I answered. "How big a deal is it to go in the morning and then worry about the show after."
"Practice, sound-check . . ."
"Not all day! That's not fair . . ." I sulked.
"Justin, we'll see," JC began. "But just rethink getting yourself a check-up. What's it going to hurt?"
"It's time-consuming."
"Kid, it's your health. How does that measure up to things?" JC demanded. 
"I don't want to waste my time doing that. I need to see Ashley and—"
"Is that the little girl? Oh, Justin…"
"JC, you don't understand. You really don't." I set my jaw. "God. None of you understand. You weren't there."
"And you don't explain. So how is that our fault?"
"I'm trying to explain… I just feel like I need to go. Just like a need to visit her. And I've told her I would keep visiting her. I need to see how she's doing. I need to go today to see her too and you can't act like that's impossible when all we have this that dumb interview."
"Justin, we can make time, that's fine…" JC agreed. "But you just have to go about it a certain way… Help us help you."
"Fine, I want to go now."
"Okay. That doesn't really help."
"I'll go with him," Joey volunteered. 
"Really?" I looked at him.
"Right now, Joe?" JC asked. 
"Yeah, it's fine. Get him to stop bitching, you to stop worrying, and by the time we get back we can go to eat and then go to that damn interview and try to relax."
"Okay," I started to get up. 
Joey grabbed the back of my shirt. "One thing though."
I sat back down. "What…?"
"You go with JC to a doctor today too."
I made a face and looked over at JC, who shrugged. "Your choice, Justin."
"This is an either/or choice?" I began.
"No, just a 'you'll get less hell if you do it' choice," Joey answered.
"We'll see," I answered.
"Good enough."
~~~~~
~~~~~
Joey sat in a waiting room flipping through Sports Illustrated when I went in to see Ashley. A nurse was in there, checking on her as I walked in. I noticed a tray of hospital food by the side of her bed untouched. The nurse looked up at me and smiled.
"Why hello." She smiled.
Ashley didn't look at me. I wondered if she was sleeping, but I noticed her eyes were open. They looked quite dull.
"Hey," I greeted. "I'm Justin, a friend of Ashley's. I was hoping to catch her up."
"Justin, hm?" the nurse asked. She looked in her late twenties or early thirties and had short blonde hair and brown eyes. "Well, she's being very strong, aren't you Ashley?" She leaned down and brushed some hair off of her forehead. "Ashley, honey, you have a visitor."
Ashley turned her head and managed to smile at me.
I blushed. "So how's my girl feeling today?" I asked.
"Okay," Ashley replied very softly. "I'm glad you came." Her voice sounded dry. "I love when you visit."
I nodded. "I'm happy to come." I paused as something came to mind. "Let me just talk to this nice lady for a second, okay?" I asked. I looked at the nurse and she smiled.
Ashley nodded.
The nurse and I went out in the hall right next to her door.
"You know, it's amazing," the nurse said. "Normally, Ashley will barely speak. She won't eat, talk, or anything. But when you're here, it just about changes her entire attitude. That's great! I'm so glad she has you as a visitor!" 
"Thanks." I smiled somewhat awkwardly. I didn't know what to say to that. "I just have one concern. The other day . . . Ash asked me about her grandmother. How come she doesn't know she's dead? She's been asking me about her and I don't know what to say. The funeral's tomorrow . . ."
"Oh . . ." She looked a little regretful but sighed and slowly spoke. "That's because of Ashley's condition. We figure that she's doing so poorly now that an emotional strain like that would be the worst thing for her. Her grandmother was her only relation. I don't know how she'd react to the news."
"But what do I tell her?" 
"If you're lucky, she won't even ask."
I nodded. "OK." That wasn't much of an answer.
"I'm glad you asked." She smiled. "My name's Charlotte by the way."
"Thanks, Charlotte. I'll see you around."
"Maybe you can get her to eat?" she started. "I don't mean to push, but she seems to respond to you really well."
I nodded and went back into the room and sat in my usual chair at her side. The nurse left.
"You're back," she whispered.
"Of course," I replied happily. I pulled over the tray of food and lowered it so that it was within her reach. "This stuff looks pretty good, Ashley . . . Did you try any?"
"No."
"Why not? Aren't you hungry?"
She shook her head once slowly.
"Well, how are you going to get better for me if you don't eat?" I asked. "Let's see . . . You want soup?"
"Soap?" she replied.
I laughed. It was the first time she'd shown a sense of humor since she'd been in the hospital. I was hopeful for once. As weak as her body was, maybe her spirit was starting to revive.
"You've got . . . some sort of sandwich here, too . . . Looks like bologna . . . Yuck . . ." I made a face. She smiled. "And what's this?" I reached for a short white cup that had a lid. I peeled it off and looked inside. "That's pretty cool. They gave you ice cream! What's your favorite flavor?" I prayed it would be right.
"Vanilla," she said. 
Thank God. "Yeah, they got it right. You're in luck today, Ash. Look." I showed her. "We gotta hurry. It's starting to melt." I wondered how long it had been sitting there. I grabbed a spoon off the tray and moved closer to her. I got a spoonful and moved it towards her. She watched me expectantly. "Is this your mouth?" I started towards her forehead.
Her eyes brightened a bit. "You're silly."
"Hm . . ." I feigned confusion. "How about here . . ." I started for her ear. 
"No…" She laughed softly. She seemed to be regaining some energy.
"Oh, I got it . . ." I nodded. "Right here." I started for her nose.
"Lower," she said.
"Lower?" I echoed. "Okay . . ." I fed her the spoonful and she took it. "Good?" I asked.
She nodded.
"Okay, because I'm going to try again and I promise I'll remember where your mouth is." I dipped the spoon back into the cup and got more. I leaned towards her and frowned. A waited a minute and then asked, "You want to know a secret?" 
She nodded. The spoon hovered in front of her.
"I forgot again," I said.
"Justin!" Her laugh was weak but it was good to hear. 
"Where is it then?" I asked. "I'll try again, okay?
"Who's that?" she asked suddenly.
"Where?" I followed her line of sight to the door. Joey was standing there, leaning against the frame, and looking amused. I got really embarrassed and blushed. "Oh. That's Joey." I could have killed him.
Joey walked in. "Hello. You must be Ashley."
"I'm Justin's girlfriend," she replied. She seemed more alert with another visitor.
"Oh?" Joey took another chair up to the other side of her bed and gave me a look. I think he was teasing me. "That's cool."
"How long were you watching?" I asked. I was still embarrassed.
"Long enough," he replied. 
"Oh," Ashley said, pointing to the chain around his neck. "Oh, Justin told me about you. You're the big guy with the nose and you weigh about five—"
"Ashley!" I hissed. "That was a secret! Open your mouth," I replied, feeding her the ice cream. 
"What's wrong with my nose?" Joey asked. "And did you say I weighed five hundred pounds, Justin?" 
"No!" I replied. "Of course not, Joey."
Ashley swallowed the ice cream. "Tons."
I shrugged at Joey. "What can I say," I said sheepishly.
"So . . ." Joey started. "Justin's been telling you about us, huh?" 
"Yeah. Do you really snore off the Richter scale?" she asked.
I laughed. I was glad she was talking so much. And eating. Not to mention smiling. If it made her laugh, then I didn't care if Joey killed me later.
"Want to hear all about Justin?" Joey replied. 
I groaned as I got her another spoonful of ice cream.
She nodded before eating.
"All right . . ." he began with a smile while rubbing his hands together. "Let's see what dirt on Justin I have . . ." 
~~~~~
~~~~~
We left a half hour later when it looked like Ashley was going to fall asleep. She'd eaten all the ice cream. Joey was teasing me all the way down the hall.
"Justin, your mouth is here." He poked me in the lips. 
"Stop . . ." I whined. "She liked you."
"And you're really good with her too. I was impressed."
"You were spying. And is that why you're making fun of me?"
He slung his arm around my neck, pulling me in closer. "It's my elusive way of praising you. I've never seen that done with ice cream is all. I've seen the airplane, I've seen—"
"Joey, stop it!" I pushed him away. 
"I thought I'd seen everything." He must have seen he was aggravating me so he stopped. "Well, Justin, that's one really sick little girl in there and I just wanted to tell you how great I think it is that you're so close with her."
"Well, she is my 'girlfriend'," I replied jokingly.
"Yeah, about that . . ." he started. "Justin, you're not six. You're a big boy."
"She's eight," I corrected.
"Oh, yeah, all the difference."
"Joey, she asked me if I had a girlfriend. I said no. She asked if I'd be her boyfriend and I said yes. Then she was shot and I feel like keeping my promise." My voice choked. "Is that okay?"
He put an arm around me again. "Of course it's okay. I was just playing you, buddy. I'm really proud of you right now, okay?"
I nodded. 
"You've really got to stop being so defensive." He pulled his arm away.
"You know, she doesn't know . . . ?" I asked.
"What?" Joey frowned.
"Ashley," I replied. "She doesn't know that her grandmother's dead."
Joey was speechless for a moment. "They didn't tell her?"
"No. And I'm supposed to lie to her."
He shook his head and sighed. "Justin, well… If that's what they say, it's probably the best thing."
"But when Ashley gets better," I started as we got into an elevator, "she's got no where to go. Her grandmother was her only relation. And they didn't tell her she'd died."
"Don't worry about that, Justin."
"What do you mean don't worry about it? In a few weeks she'll have no where to go. What's going to happen to her then?"
"Justin, do you realize what you're saying?" 
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it."
"Ashley's not dying, too," I said stiffly. "She promised me."
"It's not up to her."
"She's fine though. You saw her today. Sure she was a little weak when I first came in but you saw how she turned around."
"I talked to the nurse outside, J. She's been having—"
I ignored him. "Well, when Ashley gets better, Joey, where is she going to go? What if I—"
"Justin, it's not your responsibility," he replied. We got off the elevator and started for the exit. "And don't get so involved, please. For your own good."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I talked to the nurse, Justin. And that little girl puts on quite a show for you, and I don't know why. You two are more alike than you think."
"Maybe my mom would take her," I said. I knew she would. My mom would take in anybody. 
"Don't get hopeful and don't mention it," Joey replied. "Because chances are that she's going to either take a very long time to get better, or not get better. And it's clearly not your responsibility what happens then"
"She looked better today," I objected.
"Despite all the machines she's attached to and how many drugs are keeping her out of pain? She puts on a little act for you, Justin. And you do it for her right back. She tells you she's fine and promises to live for you, and you tell her that she's going to get better." 
"You're an asshole, Joey." My voice shook.
"Okay. I'm an asshole. But that doesn't make one thing I said untrue. Does it?" He didn't wait for an answer. "No, it doesn't. Justin, I don't want you lying to yourself. Please don't do that to yourself."
"Thank you for taking me to the hospital, Joey," I said curtly. "I don't want you to come next time."
"You can't lie to yourself, Justin. She knows that and so do you. I'm just trying to prepare you for what could possibly—"
"Please don't talk to me." I walked through the exit door. He was right behind me. 
"Justin, I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "Really, I am. I just don't want you to be hurt because it came as a surprise."
I sighed. "I already knew it's a possibility, of course, but it's just..."
He put a hand on my back. "Bro, the truth is that we're not here forever either. We're on tour, man. We're not going to be sticking around. And who knows, she could be fine."
"Whatever."
"Well, let's get back," he said. "It's almost time for lunch and we were going to go out."
~~~~~
~~~~~ 
JC was playing video games with Lance and Chris when we got back. The latter two didn't look like they'd moved since we'd left. They seemed to be holding some sort of competition. Right now it was JC and Chris. JC was smiling at least. 
"JC?" I asked. 
He didn't look up from his seat on the floor in front of the TV. "What's up, babe?"
"Can I talk to you?" I asked. 
"You are."
I hated when JC was difficult . . . "I meant alone."
"Okay . . ." He stood, holding the controller. "Who wants to take my spot? I was winning . . ."
"I will," Lance replied.
"You're going down," Chris replied as Lance got the controller. 
I took a seat on the couch inside and JC sat beside me. He waited for me to start.
"I don't know what to say," I began. "But I didn't want to give you a hard time before."
"That's fine." He cleared his throat. "So, Joey took you to the hospital?"
"Yeah."
He must have seen it on my face. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing. I don't want him going back."
"Why not?" JC frowned.
"Because . . . I don't agree with his point of view on something there." There. Easy way to say it.
"Okay . . ." JC sounded a little bit confused. "You didn't get in a fight with him, did you?"
"No, no . . . We're fine."
"Hey, guys!" Joey yelled as he walked in the room we were in so that the others could hear too. "Are we going out to lunch or what?"
I leaned my head back. This conversation was going no where. JC rubbed his hand over my hair affectionately.
"Hungry?"
"No."
"Well, you will be. Let's get going."
~~~~~
~~~~~
We ate at some semi-junky place down the road from our hotel. It was nice enough although I didn't feel like eating and barely touched anything. No one bugged me about it though and most of the conversation went over my head. 
After eating, the guys wanted to look around the town, but I forbade them to go anywhere near the scene of the crime or the police station. They didn't fight me on that either. I didn't like walking around and tried to stay as close to them as possible. Not only was I paranoid, but I wasn't feeling too great either. All this moving around was starting to get me and more than once I thought I was going to lose the little bit of lunch I had eaten. I was sick with worry and achy. The guys didn't notice though. They were too into the little side shops and stuff. 
"Can we sit for a while?" I asked after I couldn't take it anymore. We hadn't been walking too long, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, but I felt queasy and a bit weak.
I didn't wait for an answer. I just sat down on a bench.
Chris sat down next to me. "You guys can walk," he said. "I'm a bit tired too. I'll sit with him."
"We'll just go to the next intersection and walk back," Lance said.
"Yeah," JC agreed. "We won't be long."
Lance, JC, and Joey kept going. Chris and I were silent for a few minutes.
"Not feeling too hot?" he asked.
"Not really," I admitted. "I'm better now. I just needed to sit."
"You going to be okay for tomorrow's concert?" Chris asked. "I'm not sure what the management's going to think about you missing a show."
I shrugged. "Screw management."
Chris laughed. "You got that right, kid." 
"I'll try to be better," I said. "I mean, I don't want to miss a show."
"So how was your little friend today?" he asked to change the subject.
"Ashley?"
"Yeah, that's her."
"She's okay. She liked Joey. Well, she liked laughing at Joey at least. But the doctors said she wasn't doing good at all. She doesn't eat or talk much. She does when I'm there and I can only be there a little while each day. Joey didn't think she looked good either. He told me that she's going to die."
"He said what?" Chris seemed shocked.
"Well, just not to get my hopes up. I was talking about what she'll do when she gets out of the hospital and he was basically like, don't worry about that because it won't happen."
"That dick. Well, he shouldn't have told you that, Just. He doesn't know. Don't listen to him."
I shrugged. "He's right though. She probably is." 
Chris shook his head. "Don't say that."
"Well, even if she doesn't, she doesn't have anywhere to go. Her grandmother was her only living relation and now she's dead. Ashley doesn't even know that. She keeps asking me how her grandma is and the nurse told me they haven't told her anything. They'll probably put her in a home or something."
"You know, Justin, as much as you care about her, it's not your responsibility."
That sounded familiar. "But whose is it then?"
Chris shrugged. "I don't know, but it's not yours. It's the state's, it's the hospital's, it's her school's, but it's definitely not some kid's she met a couple days ago. They wouldn't want her to be your responsibility for that reason. As close as you are, and Joey was telling me how you guys were together, you really know nothing about her." 
"I guess. Joey told me that since she was going to die anyway, I shouldn't worry about it."
"Justin, please. There's no reason to say that."
"You don't know, Chris!" My voice rose slightly and I tried to control it. "You haven't seen her. Even Joey said it and the doctors are hinting."
"You believe in miracles?"
I nodded.
"Have you been praying for her or thinking about her?"
I nodded again. 
"Well, there you go." Chris patted me on the back. "Let fate play its course."
I smiled a little. "Well, she promised me she wasn't going to die. But she really has nothing to live for. She thinks she's doing it for her grandmother and me, but her grandmother's dead, and I'm here only a limited amount of time. And like you said, she barely knows me."
"Justin, you should go to the police."
"What? Where'd that come from?"
"If you got these two assholes arrested and put behind bars, Just, do you know how happy Ashley would be? She's probably just as scared as you, maybe more because she can't run. She knows they're out there. It's up to you to put them away."
"Don't say it's up to me," I pleaded.
"But it is, Just . . . You're living in a nightmare and you will be until you get the balls to say something. And with your career, you don't have too much time to waste before we leave this town and you feel guilty for the rest of your life thinking of what you could've done differently. Do you understand me?"
"Is this what you stayed behind to tell me?" I asked sourly.
"No. I stayed behind to keep you company and make sure you aren't kidnapped and beat up again." He gave me a comical grin. "My words of wisdom are just an added bonus."
"Gee, don't I feel special."
"You should. You're getting wisdom of your elders. Very valuable." He grinned.
"I can't yet."
Chris gave me an exasperated look. "What exactly are you waiting for? A sign from God? An invitation? I don't know what to tell you, but you're holding up the legal system, an investigation, your life, the—"
"Okay, okay." I rolled my eyes. "No need to make me feel more guilty, Chris, okay?"
"I'm going to drag you kicking and screaming down to the station if you don't go soon. It's wrong not to go."
I sighed.
Chris shrugged. "All right. Okay, it's up to you."
"But if I say something, they'll do something to Ashley . . ." I said. "If they see me near the police station at all. She said to me how bad the security is at the hospital. All they've got to do is—"
"Don't talk like that."
"Chris, it's true. That's why I can't go. That and the damn Witness Relocation whatever."
Chris laughed. "Justin, that's nothing. They can't force you to change your identity if you don't want to. Anyway, in your case it would be nearly impossible."
"But if I'm being stalked, won't I have to?"
"If those two are still in town, Justin, which I find crazy . . . They're going to be caught. And a celebrity can't exactly just change his identity and blend in elsewhere."
"You can't be positive."
"Let's not talk about this," Chris replied. "So what do you want to do when they come back? You want ice cream?"
I smiled. Ice cream was a weakness. "Yeah."
"OK. We'll get ice cream."
A couple of minutes later, we saw the guys coming towards us. Joey had a bag. 
"Ten bucks something Superman," I whispered to Chris, pointing to it. Chris nodded. "Ever since that show last week…"
Sure enough, it was. Joey reached into the bag and pulled out a small Superman replica.
"Lookie, guys!" He grinned.
"Joey, you bought a doll?" I teased.
"A doll?" he echoed. "Hell no, Curly! This is a stuffed . . . Superman. That's it. A stuffed Superman."
"A doll." I nodded. "Joey bought a doll."
"Not a doll." Joey stuffed it back in the bag. "It's a grown-up toy. Uh . . . that doesn't sound right either."
"Anyway. So what are we doing?" JC asked, laughing.
"Getting ice cream," Chris said. "The kid and I want ice cream."
"I could go for ice cream . . ." Joey said. "Mm, now I'm hungry." 
"We passed a place," Lance said. "Not up there . . . it was when we were all together."
"Well, we'll just start walking back and see what we find," JC said. "Then where to?" 
"Hotel," I said as Chris and I got up and we started walking.
"We can't stay inside all day . . ."
"We're outside now."
"Well, we've got that interview at . . . what was it, four?" Joey asked. "And we have to bring Justin to a doctor. You want to go before or after the interview?"
I scowled at him.
"Before or after, Justin?" he persisted.
"After," I sighed. "But not all you are going, right? What is this going to be, an NSYNC parade?"
"Who do you want to go with you?"
"JC." I met JC's eye sullenly.
"OK." Joey shrugged. "That's fine."
~~~~~
~~~~~
After we had ice cream and walked a bit more, we finally headed back to the hotel. From there we almost immediately went to the interview. They asked all the questions they could and it was exhausting. 
After that ordeal, we went back to the hotel. Exhausted emotionally and physically, I fell asleep almost immediately after I'd taken a seat next to Chris on the couch. I hadn't gone to sleep on purpose, but I figured that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't wake me up and it would be too late to go to the doctor. Or maybe they'd forget all together. I don't know . . . I'd decided to be optimistic.
I had been trying not to think about any of the past couple of days. After all, the guys were with me now and promised they'd be all the time, so I didn't have to worry about being alone again. Things seemed to be working out a little better even though I had a lot to do. Well, actually, just one big thing: go to the police. But I was afraid to step foot inside there again. At least I didn't have to pretend to them anymore.
When I woke up, I wanted it to be the next day. Instead, JC woke me up.
"Hey, you slept for nearly an hour . . ." he said after I'd opened my eyes. 
Okay, so that's supposed to make me feel better? I wanted to go back to sleep. I glanced down at the end of the couch and saw that Chris was gone so I stretched out my legs. They were somewhat cramped.
"Only an hour?" I replied.
"Well, sorry, but it's getting late and I want to get you checked out. You can sleep when you get back. Or on sleep the car ride back, okay?"
"I'm coming . . ." I sat up stiffly. I rubbed my eyes. "Where are we going?"
"I figured the hospital . . . since we don't know any of the private practices here . . ."
"Okay, let's get it over with." I stood.
"We can visit your friend after if you want . . ." he added slowly.
"You want to meet her?" I looked at him expectantly. 
"Sure." He shrugged.
"Okay." I grinned. "If she's not sleeping."
~~~~~
~~~~~
The doctor's visit was fairly uneventful. To JC and my own relief, nothing was broken. I'd bruised a couple ribs. The doctor was nice too. She was a middle aged woman and she reminded me of my mom. After an examination, she'd said that nothing was serious and that the only reason I hurt when I moved around was because I was just sore. But the pain didn't mean I was hurting anything. She gave me some painkillers and a lecture on the importance of rest and we were out of there. 
We went up to see Ashley afterwards but she was sleeping. I had sort of expected that but was still disappointed. We looked in so JC got to see her at least. He told me she looked like sweet like an angel and promised that he'd come back with me the next day to meet her. 
He asked if I wanted to talk to any of the nurses and I didn't want to. I didn't want anymore bad news.
"So how was it?" Joey asked as we returned to the hotel. He was seated on the couch with his feet resting on the table watching some movie I didn't recognize. I sat down on the other side of the couch. 
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with me," I replied. 
"He bruised a couple ribs and has to take it easy for a while," JC explained.
"So the big bad doctors were nice to you, Justin?" Joey asked. 
"He was such a good boy." JC grinned and tousled my hair. I swatted at him and he went to sit in the chair. 
"So, uh, did you meet Ashley?" Joey persisted. "Justin's little girlfriend?"
"She was sleeping," JC said. "But she looked like a sweetheart. I'm going to go back tomorrow."
"I'm not wanted back," Joey replied, giving me a look. "I might sneak along anyway though. Did you know that Curly's been telling her little stories about all of us?"
"Oh, really?" JC raised his eyebrows at me. "What about me?"
"I don't know," Joey continued, "but he told her there's something wrong with my nose, I weigh, what was it, Justin, five hundred tons? I snore off the Richter scale. Talk about a bad first impression!"
"Geez. What should I expect her to be thinking about me?" JC asked.
"I didn't say anything bad about you," I swore. "I don't think."
"Think?" JC sighed. "Uh-oh. I'm scared."
"But Joey's are true," I said. "You've . . . sort of got a big nose . . . you do snore, and you weigh the most out of all of us."
"You exaggerated." Joey pronounced the word as if I had no clue what its definition was. "All of us together don't weigh a ton!"
I shrugged. "She thought it was funny." I paused. "Speaking of her, I really do think I should go to her grandmother's funeral tomorrow."
"Yeah, if we can figure out where to go," Joey agreed, "then I'll go with you."
"Be careful, please," JC implored. "Not to scare anybody, but you know who else could be there . . ."
"We'll have one of our guys with us," Joey decided. 
Great. Having a huge guy standing next to us won't look even more conspicuous. No sirree.
"That's a good idea," JC said. He seemed to be considering. "I'd say to put you in a hat, Justin, but that's out of place with a suit . . ."
"God help us all! JC and the fashion police!" Chris called, walking in and squeezing between Joey and me on the couch. "What are we talking about?"
"Justin going to the funeral tomorrow," JC replied. "Not fashion, Chris. It's just that it's disrespectful to wear a hat to a funeral. But at the same time I don't want anyone to see him."
"Right, right . . ." Chris nodded. "Who's going besides Justin?"
"Me," Joey said. "And I'll bring a bodyguard. Just in case."
"Oh, of course." Chris laughed. "You two will look like freaks with a bodyguard."
Yes! Someone else sees the light. 
"They don't need a bodyguard at a funeral," Chris persisted. "Believe me."
"I don't know . . ." JC wasn't convinced.
"Why don't we all go and we can make a circle around Justin?" Chris continued. "You see how ridiculous it sounds? He's not going to be there long. Don't draw any more attention."
"Joey could bring his doll," I said. "That will scare everyone off."
"For the last time, Justin, it is not a doll." Joey sighed. 
"Well, whatever it is, it would still scare everyone."
"So how was the doctor, Curls?" Chris asked.
I would be explaining this all day. "The doctor said, and I quote, 'nothing looks serious'. So I shouldn't have even bothered." 
"That was after an x-ray," JC objected. "When she did a cursory exam she said, and I quote, 'Oh my God! How'd that happen?' Remember?"
"Those are details, JC." I glared at him. He ruined my thesis. "All together, I'm fine."
"There's another movie starting in about ten minutes . . ." Joey said, looking at his watch. "Do you guys want to watch it?"
"What movie?" Chris asked. 
Lance walked in. "Hey, guys. How was the doctor, Justin?"
"Good," I replied, sick of answering. I owed it to Lance though, at least. "I bruised a couple ribs, but I'm fine."
Lance shrugged. "Doesn't sound too serious."
"Apparently I'll live."
"The doctor said to rest," JC said. "So for the concert tomorrow . . ."
"I'm doing the concert," I interrupted. I'd decided that before. No need to change things in my life even more.
"I know. But you have to take it easy. No real jumping around."
I nodded. 
"I mean it. No getting crazy."
"Crunk," I corrected.
"Right, whatever. Just try to remember how you'll feel after."
"Yep."
~~~~~
~~~~~
I slept pretty well that night, or at least, without any interruption. The next morning, I woke up early, around seven thirty, and forced JC to get up too. I wanted to go to the hospital to visit Ashley with him and get back in time for the funeral. As I was pushing JC into the bathroom to get ready, I yelled into Joey's room that he better be up when I got back. So basically, I woke up the whole hotel.
So I dragged a disgruntled JC out of the hotel. When we got to the hospital, he was still yawning.
"JC, you're pathetic," I laughed as we walked down the hall to her room.
"I want to go back to bed," he replied wearily.
"Well, you promised you'd come today and this is the only time we have because I want to go to the funeral and then we have practice and then we have a concert."
"You're beginning to sound like Lance, you know your schedule so well," he returned.
We reached her door and I looked in. The bed was empty. I freaked out and went in. Everything of hers was gone. The flowers I'd brought her. The card. Everything.
"JC, where is she?" I demanded, turning on my heels to see him still in the doorway.
He shrugged. He didn't seem worried, but I didn't know if he was trying to act nonchalant hoping I wouldn't get worried. Too late. "Maybe they took her for a test or something," he suggested. 
"This early?" I persisted.
"Hospitals always are up early, Justin. That's why I never became a doctor."
I ignored his sardonic humor. "And cleared all of her stuff out, JC?" I went back to the door and looked in the little plastic holder that usually holds the patient's records and things. There was nothing there.
"Do you think something bad happened?" I asked. 
"Of course not . . ." he placated. "Don't get yourself wound up."
Sure he wasn't worried. He'd never even met Ashley. He had no emotionally connection to her whatsoever. All I could think of was that woman's threat. The damn unnamed woman. If they had touched her at all, I would . . . What could I do?
"Charlotte!" I called out, noticing the blonde haired nurse from the previous day passing.
She turned, a chart in hand, a stethoscope around her neck. "Oh, hey, Justin!" She smiled. I noticed her eyeing JC. He was smiling back. How could they flirt at a time like this? Was I the only one who cared?
"What happened to Ashley?" I asked, agitated.
"I'm not sure . . ." she replied, gazing into the room. "I wasn't aware that she was moved or anything . . . I just got on my shift about ten minutes ago. Hm, I could check with her files if you give me a minute. Here, follow me."
They weren't aware. Oh God.
She wasn't aware, I reminded myself.
She led us over to a large desk and went behind it. We stayed in front and I rested my arm on the countertop. 
"So who's your friend, Justin?" Charlotte asked as she began typing on the computer.
"His name's JC," I answered reluctantly. "JC, this is Charlotte."
"Nice to meet you," JC said with a grin. She looked up as he extended his hand and stopped focusing on the computer, reaching out.
"Nice to meet you, too," she replied softly, shaking his hand. 
I groaned, hoping she'd remember what she was doing. Instead, JC tried one of his corny pickup lines.
"So, how often do you work here?" he asked. I was embarrassed for him.
She laughed. "My shift ends at four." 
He nodded. "Really . . ."
I can't believe I was witness to this . . .
"Yep," she answered. She was blushing and started to go back through the online files. Thank God.
"So was she moved or what?" I asked finally in exasperation.
They both looked at me as if just remembering that I'd been standing there.
"Oh, here it is." She clicked on something. "Ashley Graye . . . Yeah, she was moved. Wow, to the ICU. I wonder what happened."
"It doesn't say there?" My heart beat accelerated. 
"Nope. Sorry. I'm not sure you can see her, but you can go down to the ICU to at least see what happened."
"Okay, where's that?" I asked.
She was writing on a small piece of paper and I started to wonder why she needed to write directions. Then she slipped it to JC and whispered something that sounded like 'call me, cutie'. I rolled my eyes. 
"Oh, that's just downstairs." She turned back to me. "Go down this hall and take a right. They'll be elevators. Good luck."
"Thank you." I took JC's arm and dragged him away. When we were far enough away, I glared at him. "You can wipe the drool off your chin," I said bluntly.
He gave me an incredulous look. "What?"
"Give me a break. You were all over her," I muttered.
"Grow up, Justin," he retorted sharply.
I ignored him and we reached the elevators. I nearly punched the down button.
"What's your problem now?" he asked, observing.
"Nothing." I scowled.
"Then why the long face?"
I spun on him. "Because you were flirting with some nurse next to a room where a dying girl is missing! Which is more important?"
"Calm down, Justin. That wasn't a big deal."
"It is! I don't know where she is…"
"ICU. We're going to see her now."
"We probably can't see her in there if something happened," I persisted. "You're not taking any of this seriously, JC."
"Well, when we come back you can—"
"If I'll ever have to come back," I replied, eyes watering. I wiped them hastily.
"You're throwing this on yourself."
We got off the elevator and I went towards the desk. I heard a lot of machines beeping and ventilators hissing. It was a bit eerie. 
"Is there an Ashley Graye here?" I asked a gray haired woman around forty who was sitting at a computer. She clicked a few buttons and then turned to me. 
"Not that you can see," she replied airily and somewhat presumptuously.
No shit! I wanted to scream. "Could you tell me what's wrong with her?"
She studied me. "Family?"
"Yes," I lied.
Click, click. 
"She was brought from the fifth floor early this morning. She's in a coma," she answered with a sigh.
"Well, is she okay?"
"If she's in a coma in the ICU, then no, she's not okay," the woman answered bluntly. I fumed.
I felt JC's hand on my back. I looked up at JC and could see him working his jaw angrily. I couldn't believe how short this woman was being with us. How ridiculous. Didn't they care about people's feelings?
"Okay, Justin, let's go," he said, pushing me away from the desk. I wanted to slug the lady. We went back to the elevators.
"What a bitch!" I exploded once we were in the elevators. I stamped my foot angrily.
"Justin, calm down," JC ordered. "That lady wouldn't give you the time of day if you asked."
"I asked if she was there, not if I could see her. No shit I can't see her!" I exclaimed. "That much is obvious! She could have at least said how she was doing. I mean, I haven't seen her since yesterday morning. Dammit! It's been twenty four hours and they can't tell me how she's doing?"
"Sometimes, they can't tell themselves. Don’t get yourself all upset over something you can't control."
"They should know how she's doing. Aren't they doctors?"
"Justin, this isn't a miracle hospital."
"She deserves better," I glowered.
"It wouldn't make a difference," JC said. "Whatever happens . . . that's what's going to happen." 
"I wanted you to meet her." I frowned.
"You can tell me about her," he offered. "At least I got to see her. Joey told me how great she was . . ."
"Is," I corrected as the doors opened. "She is."
"I know." JC nodded.
I sighed and we went outside and back to the hotel in silence.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Joey, are you ready to go yet?" I asked, knocking on the bathroom door somewhat frantically.
"Almost!" he called back. "Hold your horses!"
I sighed and went back into the other room. Chris was walking by, but stopped to fix my tie. He was grinning. "You look dapper, Mopey," he said. Chris had nicknamed me that after I'd gotten back with JC and had been in a relatively bad mood. 
"Could you quit calling me that?" I gave him a dirty look. He shrugged, and I continued. "And why are you smiling? Do you know how inappropriate that is considering I'm going to a funeral?"
Chris's smile faltered slightly. "I guess that is sort of inappropriate." He reached out and tried to smooth down my hair. "Little fro this morning, huh?"
"You know what's equally inappropriate?" I scowled. "Touching my hair."
"Hey, Justin, it's ten to." JC approached. "Didn't you say you needed to be there by ten?"
"Yes," I replied. "Joey!" I shouted. "Hurry up!!"
"Coming!" he called back.
I sighed. "Does anybody else wanna go with me?"
"Joey's the only one that knows where it is," Lance replied, coming up behind us. "No one else has been watching the news."
Joey finally appeared from the bathroom and walked towards us. "Ready to go?"
"Been ready!" I replied. 
~~~~~
~~~~~ 
We were not the only people at the funeral, but there weren't that many, maybe fifteen total counting us. Honestly I hadn't expected much considering that she had no family aside from Ashley. The sky got considerably cloudy during the burial ceremony and I thought that it would be fitting if it did rain. 
Joey had warned me that we wouldn't stay too long, even though I told him it would be wrong if we came and left really suddenly. I knew it was awkward for him. It was still awkward for me, my connection to the family being a bit unordinary.
The services got me more depressed than I had been before as I was reminded of the smiling elderly lady who had greeted me that morning of the incident. There was a picture of her set up, large and bright, in contrast to the weather. 
A lady who looked in her forties gave the eulogy. Through tears, she spoke of Anne Graye, as her name turned out to be, as a regular church go-er and a friend of the entire town. Everyone knew her bakery and her face. I wondered why more people weren't there. She went on to say sadly that her daughter was a classmate of Anne's granddaughter, who was now in critical condition at the hospital and to pray for her improvement. 
I stopped listening at that point. My thoughts were too loud to concentrate. 
A couple of times I scared myself into thinking that I'd seen either the man or women behind a tree in the graveyard, a glint of metal in their hand. I just tried to focus back on the casket, which I didn't really want to do. 
I started to count the flowers. That kept me occupied.
I felt Joey's hand on the small of my back. "Hey."
"What…" Music was playing. 
"Ready to go?"
What more was there? What had I been hoping for. A type of closure or some kind of connection? A release? I don't know what I thought I'd get out of it. I don't know if I necessarily felt disappointed, but I certainly was left feeling a bit empty. 
"Yeah. Let's go."
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Justin, you're slipping!" the choreographer barked. "Lance, you too!"
I sighed and tried to keep in step with the guys. I wasn't messing up too badly, but I was making beginner's mistakes that I shouldn't have been. It wasn't my fault. I was stressed. Nearly the second that Joey and I had gotten back from the funeral, we were right out the door again to go to practice. I was tired and it was barely past noon. I felt stretched and forlorn. 
After a while I think all hope was lost on us. 
"All right," he said. "Break guys."
Relieved, I stepped away and went to get a drink of water, wiping the beads of sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. Chris walked with me and grabbed bottled water as I did.
"How you holding up, Curly?" he asked.
"I thought good, but I keep messing up," I replied with a shrug. I didn't like the tone of sympathy in his voice. I didn't like that I would be getting any pity. I didn't even want to think about recent events. 
"So am I," Lance replied as he leaned against the wall beside us.
"But you always do," I joked. "Just kidding Poofoo." I took a long drink of water. "Although not really."
"Ha, ha." He rolled his eyes.
Chris squirted water at me. "You'll be fine tonight."
"I hope," I muttered.
"If you're not, we'll just throw you to the teenyboppers," Lance warned. 
"I feel fine," I said. "I'm just distracted."
"Yeah, well…" Chris shrugged. "Understandable. That's why we need to get things taken care of you, you know?"
"If only it was that easy." I paused. "But I've been thinking more. About taking care of it. And about going back to the police again."
"Soon?" Lance asked. 
I looked up. Their eyes were locked on me. It was a bit convincing.
"Yeah . . ." I said with more finality. "I was worried before because I thought they could get to Ashley since the hospital's security sucked, but if even I can't see her now, then . . ."
"You really should," Chris agreed. "Waiting isn't right."
"And I really want to be able to tell Ashley that the guys that did this to her are behind bars and that won't happen unless I do something."
Lance nodded. "It's about time you decided this, Justin."
"Well, just to throw my two cents in… I don't think that you should go to the police," Chris said. We looked at him in surprise. "Wait, I'm not done yet. I don't think you should go to the police, because I think the police should go to you."
"Huh?" I was totally confused. 
"I don't think you should go back there. We should have someone come to our hotel," Chris explained. "We know that these people are watching where Justin goes. That's obvious enough by this." He pointed towards my stomach. "So it's illogical to have him do the same thing that got him hurt last time. We don't want to take any chances. So I think it would be more reasonable to have an officer, not dressed as an officer, come to the hotel to talk to Justin."
I nodded slowly. It was better than them seeing me go into the station again. I definitely did not want to draw anymore attention to myself. The day these people were locked up could not come soon enough. And I realized that I could definitely help that day come soon.
"Don't forget we're leaving the day after the next," Lance said.
"What?" I asked. 
"We'll be back on the bus in two days."
Before I could answer, the choreographer called, shattering my reverie. "Time to get back to work."
~~~~~
~~~~~
Later that night, I overtired myself at the concert. Although I hadn't been feeling too well and jumping around was far from desirable, the moment I heard the crowd roar, adrenaline became a drug and I was high for two hours. It occurred to me that I would feel the aches later but at that moment it was an outlet I was unwilling to sacrifice. 
Afterwards, I was in pain. The moment we got to the hotel I downed two painkillers and collapsed on the couch. I didn't feel like anyone should come within ten feet. I then decided that the painkillers were really just placebos. I don't know, but whatever it was, it sure wasn't working. Empty capsules wouldn't surprise me.
"Overdid?" I heard JC's voice and turned my head. He was waiting to sit next to me, but I made no effort to move. He lifted my feet, sat down, and replaced them on his lap.
I grunted. "I'm just tired."
"Then why don't you go to bed?" He rubbed at my leg.
"Because I can't move," I replied. "The bed's too far away."
"Oh, well, this is my bed."
"Your point?"
He laughed. "Just saying."
"I'm going to move," I assured him. "Just not now."
"Well . . . we're going out, so you can sleep wherever."
"What?" I stared at him. "Where?"
"Well we meaning three of us. Chris offered to baby-sit you if you wanted."
I sat up to punch him in the arm.
"Offered to be a companion," he corrected himself with a small smile. "Better?"
"Where are you going?"
"Joey said he saw some ale house or something down the street, and we were just going to get some drinks. Didn't think you'd be up for it."
"Yeah, not really."
"So Chris offered to be a companion. I'd stay too, but I'm kind of restless tonight."
"Okay. I'll probably just sleep."
He patted my leg. "And for once I'll know it's true."
"Whatever," I answered. 
He slid out from under my feet and got up. "Well, were going to get going soon, so they're probably waiting on me."
"Hey, JC!" Joey called from the doorway, as if on cue.
"I'm right here, Joey!" JC replied. "I'm coming. Night, Justin."
"Night."
I heard them leave and then Chris ran in and sat down right on my legs. My knees almost bent a way they weren't supposed to, and I howled in pain. "Get off!"
"So, my dear companion . . ." He acquiesced and stood. "What are we going to do tonight?"
"Nothing!" I replied. "Absolutely nothing."
"I was going to order nachos from room service. You want anything?" 
The thought of food made me nauseous. "No, thanks."
"You sure?" 
"Very sure." I started sitting up. It was obvious that Chris wasn't going to let me sleep.
"You want something to drink?" he persisted. 
"Fine. A coke," I gave in. 
"Okay." Chris went over to the phone, which was on a table next to the couch, and pressed a button. "Hi, uh, I'd like a bottle of coke and a large order of nachos? Yep. Thank you." He hung up. "Food will be up shortly."
"Okay."
"You tired or something?" He frowned. 
"No, you think?" I laughed. "It's been a long day."
"Yeah, I figured." He nodded. "I'm going to bring the N64 in here and you can't refuse because you don't even have to move. You have no excuse."
"Fine," I allowed. "I'll beat you if you want."
"Ha! We'll see, Curly!"
Just as he was bringing the game in and setting it up, there was a knock at the door. He looked up. 
"Wow, that was quick. I need to find my wallet." He ran into the bedroom and back again, out of breath by the time he reached the door. He opened it and there was a guy with a tray. He paid and tipped and shut the door. He came back inside and set it on the table in front of me.
"Mmm, smells good, doesn't it?" He took a cheese covered nacho and dipped it in salsa before putting it in his mouth. "Mm . . . good. I had a craving for these babies."
I reached for the coke and a glass. "No ice?" I asked. I eyed him slyly. "Want to go get some, Chris?"
He stared at me, swallowing his first mouthful of nachos. "Fine, you bastard . . ." he sighed. He took another nacho. "Where's the ice bucket thingy?"
"In the kitchen, I think . . ."
He left and came back a minute later with it in hand. "I'll be right back."
I nodded and grabbed the controller, flipping on the TV as he went out the door. I didn't want silence.
Suddenly, the phone rang.
I paused and wondered who would be calling? The guys had just left. I wondered who they ran into or what kind of trouble they'd gotten into.
I reached over and picked up the receiver, prepared for a 'you'll never believe it' greeting
"Hello?" I managed.
There was a pause, then, "Are you in the room alone?"
I froze. My hand gripped the plastic. "Who is this?"
"Are you all alone now, Justin?" It was a woman. 
"What. . .?" I replied. I was shaking.
"Are you?" she answered. I recognized her voice as the woman's from before and immediately sat up straighter, alarmed.
"Who is this?" I demanded. 
"You know who it is."
"Not your name." I closed my eyes, heart beating rapidly. I eyed the door. Come on, Chris. Come back now.
"You don't need my name. So how are you feeling?"
"Fine." Hang up! I urged myself. Just hang up! Why was I frozen.
"Fine?" She sounded amused. "Well, then, I might have to pay you another visit. Would you like to see me again, Justin?"
I couldn't answer. Hang up! Chris will be back any second.
"Are you there?... Well have no worry . . . I'll definitely have to see you again. You haven't been rethinking your vow of silence now, have you?"
"Of course not," I replied. Please, Chris, come back. 
"Smart boy . . . So, what'd you think of the funeral today? I thought it was quite touching, didn't you? But poor Ashley . . . She doesn't seem to be doing too well, hm?"
I was silent.
"Justin? Hello? Are you still there? I know you're listening. Well, Ashley . . . Oh, all I would have to do now is pull a cord or push a button. She's not doing well at all, poor thing."
"Don't touch her," I started. 
"There you are. I hit a nerve, huh? Come on, Justin, don't you want Ashley to see her grandmother again? Have a heart." 
There was a knock on the door and I got up quickly, relieved Chris was back. I stretched the cord to reach the door. I opened it quickly and was stunned to see the woman there. She closed the cell phone and put it in her pocket before stepping forward. 
"Hello, Justin. I told you I'd—"
I slammed the door but she stuck her foot in it to prevent it from closing. I cursed myself for not checking to see if it was Chris first. God I was such an idiot. 
My heart was pounding in my chest like a drum.
"Uhn-uh . . ." She objected. "Don't try that, pretty boy."
"Fuck!" I yelled. "What do you want?!" I backed up, trembling.
"Hang up the phone," she directed, walking inside and taking a gun out of the black coat she was wearing. She shut the door and pointed at the phone. "Come on. Do it."
I reluctantly hung up the phone. I stared at her and continued backing away. My eyes locked on the barrel of the gun. I was staring it in the face once again.
"What, Justin?" she asked. "You're not happy to see me?"
There was a knock at the door. I knew that it was Chris this time. 
"Stay there," she commanded. She backed up towards the door, keeping an eye on me the whole time. The moment she turned to look into the peephole, I ran for my bedroom. I shut the door and locked it. Panicking, I looked around the room. I knew I had to get out.
I ran to the window.
This was crazy.
Chris. Chris was at the door. What was he going to do?
"Hey!" There was pounding on the door. "What do you think you're doing?" 
I ignored her and gazed out the window. We had a balcony. We weren't horribly high, but if I jumped, I'd definitely be seriously hurt. I managed to unlock the sliding glass door with my shaky hands and pushed it open. The night wind gusted in and I looked out as I stepped out. The floor right below had a balcony too. If I could just jump . . . It wasn't that far.
"Open up or I'll shoot through the lock!" she warned. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" 
It wasn't that far. 
I swallowed and took a deep breath. I put one leg over the railing and then the other. I went out slowly, supporting myself by my arms, hands gripping the railing. It wasn't too far below. My legs were hanging and I swung myself a little bit and let go, dropping hard on the next balcony. 
Pain shot through my feet, to my ankles, and up my legs. I winced, tears filling my eyes. I looked around to see where I could possibly go next with blurry vision. I was on floor closer to the ground. There was one of those drainage pipes that looked like it went down the ground. I climbed over the rail to the edge of the balcony and hung on. After a moment of gathering courage, I reached out for the pipe.
I couldn't reach it from where I was, so I jumped off and grabbed it with both my hands. I was more relieved than ever when I didn't fall the however many hundred feet down to the ground. I held on tight, praying to God that it would hold me. 
This was crazy. I felt like I was in one of our crazy music videos, but the reality of the moment struck me hard.
I started to slide down slowly. It hurt my hands; the feel of friction of skin against metal; but I endured it. I didn't care really. I just wanted down desperately.
After what seemed like an eternity, I reached the ground. I wanted to kiss the pavement I was so happy. That lasted for about a second though. I knew that I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. That crazy lady could be coming down any second waving her damn gun. 
I reached into my jeans pocket and found a twenty and some change. That was at least something. I had to avoid the hotel for a little while. It was cold since I only had a t-shirt on aside from the jeans. Well, as long as it wasn't raining. 
I hoped Chris took his time getting ice.
I dried my face with my shirt and composed myself. 
I started to walk. Just a few blocks, and I would feel better. I assured myself that the air and the distance would help me. Hotel security, that's what I was worried about. And Chris. I wondered what Chris was thinking. What happened when she opened the door…
My thoughts took me further than I realized. 
I looked around. I was on a street that I didn't recognize and it had started to rain. I started walking slowly down it. There were some other people walking too and a total of maybe three stores open. As long as other people were around, I felt slightly safe.
It was dark and cold, and I was exhausted. I was shivering a bit from the cold and could feel my teeth chattering. I really needed to make up my mind. I would sit for a little bit and then head back. Things had to be clear by then.
I saw a playground and walked inside. I climbed up inside one of those slides that had a covered fort-like place on top and sat down to rest. It was shelter at least. I fell asleep.
~~~~~
~~~~~
When I opened my eyes later, I was surrounded by pitch blackness. Stiff, I made an attempt to stretch, only to be reminded of the confinement of a child's tunnel. Just for the heck of it, I got down by going down the slide. Of course, without being able to see much, I landed hard on my butt on the wet ground which wasn't all that welcoming. My abdomen ached from the added strain. But I was wet all over anyway. Apparently, the plastic roof was not made by a real engineer. I'd basically slept in a puddle.
With no inkling as to what time it was or whether I was even in the same town as our hotel, I started for a streetlight. It was time to do some thinking. I figured it was safe to go back, but I didn't really want to. Enough with the interviewers, enough with the fans, enough with the murderers. I just wanted some time alone. 
I reached a sidewalk and found a phone-booth. I wanted to let the guys know I was all right, but I didn't want to speak directly to them just yet. I wasn't sure I'd be able to explain anything yet. A conversation was the last thing on my mind. And what if they didn't answer?
Flipping through the phonebook, I found the name of our hotel. Drops of rain starting darkening the pages and I reached into my pocket for a quarter. I inserted it and read the smudged number. Dialing, I prayed for the best.
A desk clerk answered, announcing the name of the hotel.
"Um, hi . . ." I said softly. "Could I be connected to a room?"
"Sure. Number?"
Dammit, what room number were we? I couldn't remember the number. I told her the floor. I knew we were like ten from the elevator. On the right… 
"I need more than that," she said, slightly bemused. "Name?"
What was I supposed to say to that. NSYNC? Chasez? Like they were going to believe me? And I couldn't remember what name the rooms were actually under anyway. God dammit. I was useless.
I hung up and looked around. I wanted something to drink or eat desperately. There were a couple of bars, but that wasn't exactly what I was looking for, not to mention I was eighteen and even if they knew who I was … Well to be honest I'd rather they not know who I was. I noticed a 24 hour restaurant/diner, but was a bit hesitant because of what had happened last time. But I decided to take my chances and went in.
It was a pretty small place. Lots of tables and booths. There were several other people in there eating or drinking, so I went up to one of those swiveling counter tables and took a seat tiredly. I reached into my pocket and started to count my change inconspicuously.
"Why, hello there," a voice said. I looked up to a nice looking lady with cropped red hair. She was wearing black pants and a white shirt, obviously the place's dress for waitresses. "You look awfully wet, sweetie."
I shrugged. "It's raining."
"I gathered." She smiled. "So what can I get you?"
I felt dumb. I figured I'd need a cab back. I wasn't sure how much that would cost. What could I get for cheap? 
"How about a hot bowl of soup?" she replied after I hadn't answered for a moment. "That will warm you up."
I nodded. "Sure, thanks."
"Coming right up," she replied. 
She left, but returned just a few seconds later with a place setting which she set down in front of me.
"So where you coming from?" she asked.
I paused. She probably thought I was homeless or something by the way I looked. I guess I really didn't resemble the Justin Timberlake pop-star persona. I was thankful.
"I was staying at a hotel . . ." I began. "Just visiting."
"What hotel?"
I said the name and she nodded.
"What are you doing out here at this time of night then?"
"Uh…"
"Get into trouble somewhere?"
"No," I answered. "Why?"
"Oh, only because seventeen or eighteen year olds—"
"I'm eighteen."
"Right. Eighteen year olds usually don't leave their hotels at two o'clock in the morning to out in the rain. So I was just curious."
"It's two o'clock?" I gaped at her, shocked. I must've slept a while.
"Sure is."
"Wow."
"Where are you supposed to be?" she insisted gently. 
I shrugged. "No where right now."
"Who were you at the hotel with? Family?"
"My brothers," I replied. Close enough.
"Do they know where you are?"
"They know I'm out . . ." I answered.
"Do they care?"
I nodded. "I'm sure they do. Why are you asking so many questions?" 
"I'm sorry." She laughed. "I get curious sometimes. Like I said, I rarely see someone your age around here at this hour."
I had no answer and picked up a fork to play with so I wouldn't have to look her in the eye.
"Is there a number you could call your brothers at?"
"I just called," I said.
She nodded. "I shouldn't have asked you so many questions. I'll get you your soup."
I watched her leave, confused. Oh well.
She returned in less than five minutes and set a bowl of soup down with a bunch of wrapped crackers. "Here you go, hon. Enjoy."
"Thank you." I smiled, suddenly getting very hungry. 
The warmth calmed me, as soup always reminded me of home and comfort. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
When I got back to the hotel, fear crept back into me. Going back into the hotel was the last thing that I wanted to do considering everything that had happened there. But I had to. I had to know where the guys were. I had to know what happened. When we were done with these concerts, I was never coming back to this town. 
I had nothing. No key. Nothing.
I was about to knock on the door when the thought that she would still be in there crossed my mind. It took me a moment, but I ruled it out as being impossible and finally knocked. 
There was a moment of total silence during which I was afraid that nobody was there and I was just going to be standing alone in this hallway without anywhere to go. But then the door swung open.
"Justin!" Joey exclaimed, just about picking me up off the floor in a bear-hug. "Oh my God!"
I ignored the pain in my stomach and wrapped my arms around him, glad to be back. He was jumping around calling the guys. 
"You're soaked," he informed me. He let go to shut the door. 
Before I could answer, I was nearly knocked over as Chris ran into me for a hug. He let go and started talking a million miles a minute. I couldn't concentrate on a word of it and none computed. Lance hugged me next briefly.
"You're really wet," he said. "You're dripping."
I was so glad it was them at the hotel.
"It's raining," I said softly. I saw JC and wrapped my arms around him tightly. He hugged me back. 
"I just woke up," he explained, rubbing his eyes. 
"Go change," Joey said. "You're saturated. What'd you do; stand in the rain? Then you've got a lot of explaining to do about where you were."
I started towards my room and noticed the center of the knob missing. I ran my finger over it with a sense of awe. "What happened?"
"You tell us," Chris replied. 
"I have to change." I went in and closed the door behind me. I noticed the window was shut. Quickly, I changed into gray flannel pants and a sweatshirt. I pulled on socks and wondered how I could be expected to explain. What was there to explain? 
When I returned I felt like I was in front of a jury. Chris was in the chair while Lance, Joey, and JC were on the couch. They all stared at me. Joey moved over and I slipped between him and JC. JC slid his arm around my shoulders. 
"We've been worried sick. It's been about five hours," Joey started.
"Okay . . ." Chris said. "Let's retrace so we can see what happened, shall we?" I just nodded; glad someone else was doing the talking. "All right, now, I left to get ice and when I got back I knocked because I didn't have a key. You didn't answer so I started to worry, and then I heard a different voice in the room. I kept knocking and there was no answer, so I ran down to the elevators and went to the lobby to get another key. When I got back up, no one was in there but there was that hole in your doorknob."
"We need to do something," JC said. "This is getting out of control."
"I know," I agreed. "I don't know how to stop it though. I can't go back in time."
"We called the police."
I turned sharply to look at him. "What?"
"Justin, how could we not call the cops?" JC asked. "There's a bullet hole through your door."
"Tell us what happened," Chris persisted.
"I can't believe you called the cops…"
"Get over it," Joey said, a little brusquely. "It's about time somebody did something about this."
"What happened?" Chris asked again.
Put off by Joey's comment, I answered anyway. "Well . . . as soon as you left," I started gently, "the phone rang. I answered, and it was that woman. She started talking and then there was a knock at the door. I opened it right away thinking that it was you, Chris, but instead it was her. She came in with her gun and then you did knock. She went to look and I ran into my room, locked the door, and went out the window."
"Wait, what? You went out the window?" Lance asked in disbelief.
"Yeah. Never again."
"How?"
"There are balconies."
"Jesus, Justin," JC remarked. "So, where have you been for the past couple of hours?" 
"Well, I started walking just to get away from the hotel, but I walked further than I intended." I sighed. "That's it. Now I wanna sleep."
"Busy night," Joey replied, looking slightly shocked.
"We thought you were kidnapped," Chris said.
"Really?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Yeah, well everything sort of pointed to that. You know: the voices, the disappearance, the gun-hole. . ."
I sighed in relief. "Well I wasn't. We should change hotels."
Joey laughed. "Let's not be rash . . ."
"Rash?" I echoed. "Joey, there's a bullet hole through my door!"
"Okay, okay. So maybe it's a good idea. But we've just got two days left. Security's going—"
"Joey, I would like to see my family again," I persisted. 
"It only happened because you were alone," he replied, glancing at Chris. "Now that security knows the situation and—"
"I only went to get ice!" Chris protested. "Maybe if Justin learned to check who was at the door before he let them in?"
I looked at him in surprise.
"Guys, it's no one's fault," JC objected. "If it hadn't happened now, you know it would have happened later. We're just lucky that Justin didn't get hurt." He tightened his arm around my shoulders. "Why don't we get some sleep?"
"Yeah, it's only four-thirty in the morning," Lance joked. 
"Like I could sleep," I replied. 
"Yeah, I'm not tired either," Chris agreed. "If anyone wants, I've got some nachos in the—"
I groaned.
"—refrigerator . . ." He gave me a funny look. "I'm going to heat them up. What's wrong with nachos, Curly?"
"You're stupid nachos are what started everything! 'I'm hungry, I'm gonna get room service'," I mimicked. 
"Well, the soda's cold now because I put it in the fridge too. So we don't need ice."
"I could go for nachos," Joey replied. 
Chris grinned and got up. "Good. I'll go put them on." He left. 
"How can you think of food at four o'clock in the morning?" I asked.
Joey shrugged. "Easy, I just did."
"You okay now?" JC asked me softly, squeezing my shoulders.
"Other than regretting most of this tour? Physically I'm fine."
"We're going to get this taken care of. Joey talked to Lonnie and security and also the police, and—" He caught my likely exasperated look and cut himself off. "What?"
"Security's I'm sure having a shit fit about this."
"Uh, well they'd have been I'm sure slightly less angry if you'd told them earlier…"
"I'm sure."
"Anyway. There's a detective coming tomorrow and before you say anything," he held up his hand as I opened my mouth, "you're going to do this, and tomorrow afternoon, and we're going to get this taken care of."
I set my jaw and nodded. "Right."
"If you'd done this earlier we could have figured this out."
"JC, I don’t need to hear that. You think I don't realize that? I'd like to see you in the same position."
"I'm not saying it to make you feel bad. I just regret not knowing too."
Before I could reply, I heard Joey and Lance crack up from whatever they were watching on TV.
"Disney's rerunning the MMC!" Joey laughed. "Imagine that. My favorite show!!"
"Figures that it's on at four a.m.," JC muttered. "The Disney Channel is on crack."
"Can you change it?" I asked. Last thing I needed was to hear them ridicule my scrawny, floppy haired past.
"Good heavens, no!" Joey replied. "Not until they assure me that I'll see them real soon."
"Joey, come on . . ."
"Aw, Justin, look how small you are," Joey persisted. 
"Look at his hair," Lance persisted. "What would you call that, anyway?"
"Guys!" I complained.
"Wait. Oh for the love of God. JC, what are you wearing?" Lance asked.
"Okay, turn the channel," JC began. "Right now."
"Gee, I wish I could have been a mouseketeer," Joey said as he feigned being wistful.
"Me too." Lance sighed. "Wow, JC, you sure were quite the dancer." He laughed. 
JC reached over me and Joey to snatch the controller but it was out of his reach.
Chris came back with a plate of nachos and a bottle of soda. "Someone else get glasses," he said. 
"I will," Joey replied. "No one eat any yet." He left.
"Who would eat that?" I replied, gazing at the plate Chris set on the table. "It looks like it was recycled."
"Ew . . ." Chris answered. "Shut up."
"Joey will eat it anyway," Lance replied.
"Joey will what?" Joey demanded. He set five plastic cups down. "Who wants soda?"
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Wake up, everybody . . ." came the voice of Joey. 
I woke up fuzzily, still tired. I was lying on my side on the couch, legs still on the floor. JC was next to me. I saw Chris in the chair. I guessed Lance was already up.
"It's twelve-thirty, guys," Joey persisted. "Get up, you lazy bums."
Great. I'd slept through breakfast. I sat up tiredly and rubbed my eyes. I elbowed JC, who groaned in reply.
"JC . . ." I moaned.
"Go back to bed, Jus." JC didn't even open his eyes. "Tell me tomorrow."
"I have nothing to tell you." I shrugged. 
Joey came over and took my arm, pulling me up. "Get up. Go shower." As soon as he let go I sat down again.
He went to JC, nearly pulling him off the couch as well. "Morning, JC," he said in his ear.
"I'm up, I'm up," JC muttered. He yawned. "Why do we have to get up?"
"Because I don't know what time the guy's coming for Justin. It's not my fault. I didn't want to wake you. You two just looked too damn cute on the couch together. But don't worry, I got a picture."
"Fuck you," I replied, sitting up. I saw Chris getting up to stretch.
"Where's Lance?" Chris asked.
"He went to get food," Joey replied.
"Alone?" I asked. Chris walked off towards the bathroom.
"Yes. Lance isn't on a wanted list," Joey replied. "You, on the other hand . . ."
"Shut up," I answered irritably. "It's not my fault."
"I'm kidding. I know it's not." He sat down and slung his arm around my shoulders. "Besides, baby, we just love being with you 24/7."
I glared at him. "Get off."
"Ooh, morning moods. Sorry." Joey jumped back up. "Well, come on, people. Start motivating." 
JC stood. "You know, Joey, you can be a real pain in the ass . . ."
"So can you un-morning people," Joey retorted. "You fall asleep the moment you sit down and Justin doesn't wake up until you feed him. You think it's easy on my end?"
I leaned back on the couch. I was too tired.
"Come on, Curly, do you want to look like that when the detective comes?"
I nodded while JC asked, "Does it matter what he's wearing?" He sat back down. Joey sighed and collapsed in the chair that Chris had been in.
"You two are lazy," he said. 
"Do I have to impress him or something? Or her?"
"Ooh . . ." Joey looked thoughtful. "A her? That would be nice . . ."
"Joey, if you flirt with the detective while she's trying to help J, I will kill you," JC warned.
"Yeah, like you and Ms. Charlotte's little scene was called for?" I replied. 
"Do you want me to kill you too?" 
"No."
"Then shut your trap."
"I can't imagine you kill anyone anyway."
"Wait a second," Joey started. "Who's Charlotte?
"JC's girlfriend," I replied. "He met her at the hospital while he was supposed to be helping me find out about— Ow!" I exclaimed as JC slapped me on the back of the head. "What was that for?"
"Just shut up," JC returned. I scowled at him. 
"Wait, I want to hear about Charlotte," Joey said. "Come on, Justin, keep going. JC hit on a girl?"
I eyed JC. "I can't. JC's embarrassed."
"Is she cute?" Joey persisted. 
"JC?" I grinned. 
He shook his head. "Whatever. Stop it."
"Guess what he said, Joey?" I persisted. "Oh my God, it was so funny." I laughed. "She was in a nurse's uniform and he asked her if she worked there."
"You what?" Joey cracked up. "That's classic!"
"No!" JC returned, blushing. "I asked if she worked there often."
"That's just as bad." Joey shook his head.
"Well, it got me her number!"
"She must have felt bad for you." He paused. "Or known who you are."
JC's hand patted my knee. "Why don't you get in the shower before you give me more of a reason to beat you."
I smiled at him. "You don't like the conversation?"
There was a knock at the door.
"That's probably Lance," Joey replied, getting up.
"I'm going to eat first," I said. "Then shower."
Joey let him in, and Lance came in holding a big bag with a McDonald's logo on it and sodas.
"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever let me in," Lance joked.
"You've got our food," Joey replied. "Why wouldn't I?'
~~~~~
~~~~~
There was a knock on the door at two o'clock. JC and Joey had gone out against my protests to a mall claiming that they just couldn't be in a hotel all day. Well, it wasn't like I was enjoying myself either. I pleaded with JC to stay with me but he refused. That would cost him eventually.
Lance and I were in the middle of killing each other on N64 so Chris got up to answer the door. 
I heard voices talking but couldn't turn from the game. Lance, surprisingly enough, had the advantage and to glance away would be stupid. 
"Justin . . . you're losing badly," Lance provoked.
"It ain't over until it's over," I retorted, clicking buttons rapidly.
"I think it's over," Chris came up behind us. "Turn the game off, guys. Justin, the cop is here."
"Just a second . . ." I replied, not turning. My stomach twisted anxiously with nervousness and some fear. Suddenly I didn't want to talk to anyone anymore. I mean, JC wasn't here. Joey wasn't here. What kind of repercussions were there for not coming forward earlier?
Chris came over and snatched the controller away. My eyes broke from the screen to meet his. "Stop, Justin," he said. "And get up."
"I just wanted to finish the game," I answered crossly. I listened to the defeat music of my character dying. 
"Well, now it's finished. The guy's in the kitchen. So get your ass in there."
I leaned my head back and furrowed my brow. "Chris, I don't know—"
"Can't hear you." He took my arm. "Up." He pulled me up and pushed me toward the kitchen. He slapped my back. "Tell him everything."
I rolled my eyes and continued toward the kitchen unwillingly. I walked in and saw a black haired, green eyed guy around forty or something dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt. He certainly didn't look like a cop. He had a notebook and a pen in front of him. I hesitated warily in the doorway for a moment before entering.
He looked up several seconds later, noting my presence. "Hey, there. You must be Justin." He smiled, revealing two rows of perfectly straight pearl white teeth. "I'm Detective Ryan Callahan." 
I didn't move. "Nice to meet you." 
"You know, I have to tell you the truth . . ." he began. "My nine year old niece is in love with you and I've basically heard your vital stats forwards and backwards."
"Okay." I shrugged. "You want an autograph or something?"
"She'd love that. First though let's get down to what we meant to cover today. Why don't you start in your own words and explain everything to me."
I paused. This was it. "All right . . ." I began. "It started when I woke up really early . . ."
~~~~~
~~~~~
I talked to the guy for about an hour. I was overjoyed when he left because I'd been getting very restless just sitting and talking to a man I'd known for less then a day. The second he left I turned to the guys, who were watching TV.
"Finally done."
"Well, did you tell him everything?" Joey asked.
"Yes, I told everything," I admitted. I rubbed a hand over my hair, and suddenly the restlessness I felt sitting across from that man for so long was replaced with a sense of emptiness. Powerlessness. 
"Well, a step towards this being done," JC began. He patted the seat next to him. "Come here."
I sat where he directed and nodded. "One step."
"I gave him a description and he said he'd go through some pictures the police have for matches," I replied.
We sat and watched TV for a little and then suddenly JC spoke up.
He stood. "Well, guys, we should get going. The museum will be closed by the time we get there."
"Museum?" I frowned. "Huh?"
Joey sighed and pulled me up as he stood. "JC decided that we need to take in as much culture at each venue as possible, isn't that right, Dad?"
"Do we have to?" I complained. "Since when are you into museums?"
"A friend recommended it to me when he knew we were hitting this city. Plus, come on, it's a good experience," JC replied. "The one here is pretty famous. So, if you really don't want to, I guess..."
"I'm tired," I persisted. "I just had to talk to that guy for three hours and—"
"Forty minutes," Chris corrected.
"Well, I'm still exhausted!" I replied.
"Okay, fine." JC shrugged. "Justin can stay here alone. We're all going, right, guys?" 
"Um, yeah, sure," came the mumbled replies.
"Joey," I began, taking his sleeve. "Want to stay?"
Joey looked thoughtful for a minute until JC glared at him and cleared his throat. Then he said, "Why stay in a hotel when you can enjoy the pleasures of an educational exhibit, Justin?"
"You tell me," I challenged.
Joey rolled his eyes. 
"Maybe I can visit Ashley while you guys do that. I'd rather do that then walk around a museum."
JC frowned. "We tried. You know they won't let you."
"But if someone else is working there, maybe."
"Not in the ICU." 
"Never say never."
JC sighed. "How about after?"
"But then you'll be like 'It's too late. How about tomorrow?'"
"You can do it today. I'd rather we stay together, Jus. Don't you?"
"But you're saying this knowing that we won't be able to later, JC."
"You can. If you don't go today, I'll give you anything you want."
"Anything?" I raised an eyebrow. 
"JC, that's a risky deal," Chris warned.
"You've got to shake on it," I said. "But before you do, I want to make sure . . . Anything as in anything? Like, not that I want it, but your car?"
"Anything," JC affirmed.
I grinned. This was the type of compromise I liked. JC stuck out his hand and I clasped it.
"Now, rules." He held onto my wrist. "You cannot change your mind about going. Then the deal's off."
"Why would I do that?" I frowned.
"To get what you wanted by not going today."
"I want to see Ashley. That's more important than something else. I'm not changing my mind."
"Okay. You've got a deal." He let my hand go.
"JC, I have the feeling you're walking on thin ice," Joey laughed.
JC ignored him. "Let's go to the museum."
~~~~~
~~~~~
"This is boring," I finally said to Chris softly after and hour of trudging around the floor of ancient civilizations in the museum. I don't even think that JC was interested by this point. I understood his want to get some culture at times, and his friend would probably ask about it, but really. In that case, JC needed new friends anyway. 
I was also searching the crowd for suspicious faces as well. I felt a little uneasy about all these people despite the security we had.
"You read my mind," Chris replied under his breath. "Um, JC?" he called.
"Yeah?" JC turned from an Ancient Indian Civilization display up ahead. "What?"
"Justin and I aren't exactly interested in this . . . genre . . . of exhibit. We're going to go somewhere that's more . . . engaging."
"Well, okay . . ." JC looked slightly disappointed. He pulled out a map. "Where should we meet?"
Chris and I exchanged a look. "Um . . ." he hesitated. He looked at me helplessly. "Where do you want to go, kid?"
"Ancient Buddhist… um, armor," I provided, saying the first thing that came to mind. "Wars and stuff."
"Justin, Buddhist warfare?" Chris hissed.
I colored. "Um, yeah, or maybe something that's actually in the museum."
JC shrugged. "Okay. We'll have to meet somewhere."
Joey laughed. "Ten bucks they're going to the food court! Just meet them there."
"We'll meet in an hour at the elevators on the first floor," Lance suggested.
"Sounds good," JC agreed.
"Yep." Chris nodded. "We got it."
We separated and started walking. Chris and I went to the elevators.
"I don't feel too well," I told him. I was getting a headache right behind my eyes that was making me sick. "I think we stayed up too late."
"No kidding.  I was about to fall asleep in there." He shook his head as we got into the elevator. "I think the food courts just one level down. I'm not too sure though."
"I really don't feel well."
"Well, then it won't be a lie when I use you as an excuse for not being at an exhibit." 
I rolled my eyes. "JC doesn't care, Chris."
"Sheesh," he continued as we got off on the lower floor. "I feel like I'm on a grade school field trip. It's been a long time since I was on one of those. A really long time."
"I didn't have fieldtrips."
"Don't pull that lost childhood crap on me, Justin. Your childhood is great."
"I'm not saying otherwise." 
"Well just don't start up."
"I'm not."
We found the food court. "Want to eat? Get that table." He pointed. "You want Coke and fries?"
I shrugged. "Sure." 
"I'll be right back. Go grab the seat before someone takes it."
I walked through some crowds of people in the loud cafeteria and made my way to the table Chris had pointed out. I brushed some crumbs off the tabletop before sitting and sighed, resting my head in my hands.
I gazed around the large white-walled room tiredly and at the many people seated around me in tables eating fast-food and looking over floor-plans of the museum. Lots of people with young kids. Lots of families. It was a wonder that we weren't recognized. Well, it was a school day and little kids wouldn't really recognize us, I guess. 
I saw Chris on a line. There weren't many people in front of him fortunately. I glanced down at my watch to make sure we wouldn't be late meeting the other guys. We usually weren't too great keeping track of time so I made sure to note what time it was.
Drumming my fingers against the marble tabletop, I scanned the faces in the crowd. Smiling people, laughing people, yelling people. Suddenly one of the faces caught my attention. A man in jeans and a black sweatshirt.
Ryan Callahan.
My eyes locked on the face. It was definitely him. No doubt about it. I tried to calm myself, not to panic. He wasn't following us. It was just a coincidence . . . Yeah . . . So why couldn't I convince myself of that? 
Then I noticed that the person next to him was the man from the shooting. The face was exactly the same; gaunt cheeks, a long nose, a snarling mouth. It was unmistakable.
It felt like the air had been knocked out of me. I turned my chair so my back was towards them and began to breathe deeply. Maybe they didn't know I was here. Maybe it's just a coincidence. 
A coincidence? Both of them together.
Together.
Following me.  
Oh, God. Oh, God. Run? Stay? Alone? What should I do . . .
Why were they doing this? Why isn't the cop on my side? He's not really a cop? I didn't know what to think. I glanced back quickly; maybe I was hallucinating. But I saw the same thing again.
Chris, hurry up. I need you here, now. 
Could I go under the table? No, that might attract other attention plus it was incredibly dirty. I was nearly shaking. No where to turn. No one to help. What I wanted to do that second was to hop a flight back home and never come back. This was the absolute worst tour. 
"Hey, Justin," Chris interrupted my thoughts. "The line wasn't too bad." He slid a tray on to the table and sat down. 
"Chris . . ." I murmured, eyeing him. 
"What, buddy?" He poked a straw into a drink and slid it over to me. 
"Don't turn around," I trembled, "but about twenty feet away behind you there's two men. One's the cop I talked to and the other is the shooter from the other morning."
Chris froze, straightening in his chair. "You serious?"
"Yes." My vision blurred as my eyes watered. "I don't know what to do . . ."
"Justin . . ." Chris soothed. He pulled his chair closer. "Look, the safest place you can possibly be is here. You're in a guarded building, you're in a huge crowd . . . What more could you want?" 
"To be home," I sniffled. 
"Stop," he persisted. "You're fine."
I wiped my eyes hastily. "What do we do?" 
"Nothing, J. We'll handle it but right now what can we do?"
"They're following me . . ." My tone wavered just slightly as I tried not to cry. 
"They've been following you." Chris sighed. "We knew that."
"I told him everything. Everything." I bit my lip. 
"You did what you were supposed to." 
"How can you not be worried?" I faltered. "They're right there. They're watching us."
"Millions of people are watching us everyday, Justin. These are just two more. Look at me." We made eye contact. "They are not armed," he said stiffly. "Got me? You can't come into a museum armed. There's metal detectors that you can't get around."
I nodded, calming a little bit. That was true. Joey's watch had gone off in the detector. 
"Eat." He pushed fries at me. "I got them for you."
I couldn't believe we weren't doing anything and stared at the food without the slightest bit of an appetite. I started to eat them to please Chris. My eyes drifted behind us to where the two were. The 'cop' was gone, but the other man was still there. 
"One's gone," I whispered. 
"Hm?" Chris sipped his soda.
"Officer Callahan wannabe is gone," I persisted in a low voice. "Look at the other guy so you know what he looks like."
"I can't look right now . . ." Chris rolled his eyes. 
"Yes, you can. He'll disappear too!" I insisted. 
"Okay, okay. Eat up." He turned his head. "Which one?"
"Ugly guy," I said softly. "Beige pants, green shirt . . ."
A moment passed. "Okay, I see him." Chris turned back. "He doesn't seem to be looking over here. You sure it's him?"
I looked at him for a moment. "You think I'm imagining this, don't you?"
Chris shrugged and took a drink of his soda.
"You know, Lance said that too." I took a trembling breath. "When I was with you and I left because I saw him in the lobby? He said I'd imagined it and the next thing I know I've got someone in our hotel room trying to shoot me. I did not imagine it."
Chris shook his head. "I'm not saying you did, Curly."
"That man is the exact same man from the other morning. How could I forget the face of the man who nearly shot me, for fuck's sake?"
"Okay, so you've got a clear image of the guy. That doesn't mean that there's not just a very big similarity . . ."
"There's too much of a coincidence!" My eyes teared up again. My best friend didn't believe me.
"Justin, please . . ." Chris sighed. "I don't want to—"
"Why won't you believe me?" I used my sleeve and wiped my eyes hastily. "Can we go meet the guys? I'm not hungry."
"We're a little early . . ." Chris started to object. "They won't be there."
"Please can we go?" I implored, shaking. "I can't stay here . . ."
"We should stay in crowded areas . . ." 
"No. Let's meet up with the guys. Elevators. First floor. Please, Chris . . ."
"Okay, fine. Take the fries. Joey will eat them if you don't." He stood. I pushed my chair back and took my soda and the fries. 
We maneuvered our way through the crowds out the door. I was like glue on Chris. We were already on the first floor, so we found our way to the main elevators. There was a bunch of people around there mingling and talking, so I was relieved that at least we wouldn't be all alone. 
The guys were true to their time to the last second. They showed up exactly a half hour from when we had split. 
I pushed the box of fries in Joey's hands immediately. 
"Hey, thanks." He grinned, taking them. Then he paused. "See, JC? I told you they'd go to the food court." He shook his head.
"Hunger called," Chris answered. "And we had some trouble."
I just stared at the floor, repeating to myself, let's get out of here… 
JC pushed my chin up. "What happened?" 
"We need to get out of here," I replied, turning my head away from him. I was scared. 
"Why?" Lance asked, taking some of the fries from Joey.
"Justin claims he saw the shooter with Ryan Callahan," Chris replied somewhat skeptically. "At the food court."
There was something about his tone that made my stomach turn.
"I did see them," I persisted. "I don't know why the hell you won't believe me."
"I didn't say that…" 
JC looked shocked. "Seriously?" He looked at Chris. "Did you see them too?"
Chris hesitated. "Not exactly."
"You did too see them!" I punched him in the arm. I felt frustrated. I didn't know what any of this meant, and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. But having the guys trusting me would be nice. Chris nearly dropped his soda after I hit him. 
He put his other hand on my shoulder.
"I didn't see Ryan. You pointed out some guy to me that did look pretty weird," Chris replied. "But I'm not sure what he looks like to begin with."
"No one will believe me!" I exclaimed. 
"It's not that no one believes you," Joey began. "It's just how are we supposed to—"
"I don't feel safe. Can we just go?"
"This is pretty much the safest place to be under the circumstances," Lance started gently. "There's security, it's public—"
"That's what I said," Chris replied. 
"I can't stand it here though, knowing that they could be coming into this room at any second. Knowing that they're in the same building as me, and knowing that whoever I talked to yesterday may not have been who I thought it was." I realized I was almost shouting.
I tried to lower my voice. "I just really need to get out of this building." I squeezed my hands, nearly crushing the cup in my right hand. 
"Sheesh, calm down," Joey laughed. 
Laughed?
"No, I can't calm down!" I exclaimed. "You don't understand. You're laughing, for God's sake!"
"Justin," Chris objected.
"You won't believe me. You say I imagined it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? What can I? I didn't imagine any of it this! I don't care if you believe me or not anymore, but I need to get out of here." My voice broke, and I realized I was moments from tears. "You don't get it, that's fine. You don't know what happened, but you weren't there. But you could at least take my word for it, because I can't live like this anymore!"
My friends were silent at my outburst. I closed my eyes, head pounding. The room seemed to spin. 
"Justin, just sit down and let's decide," JC suggested. He prodded me over to a cement bench that was in front of a display of trees and pushed me to sit. I dropped down and put my soda on the ground. I sighed and rested my elbows on my knees, supporting my head on my.
"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "Let's decide."
 He sat down beside me and put a hand on my back.
"What do you suggest we do, then?" Joey began. "What do you really expect from us, Justin?"
"I don't know what to do. I'm not going back to the hotel," I said.
"Why not?" JC asked. His hand made circles on my back. I felt like going to sleep. On the other hand I was annoyed at myself for letting it relax me.
I tried to explain. "Because . . . That place isn't safe. I don't trust this police officer. People can get in. Even our security doesn't help much. We only have one day left and I'm not spending it there."
"Where are you spending it?" Joey asked between a mouthful of fries. 
"I don't care. Not there."
"We could get another hotel . . ." Lance suggested. "Just for two nights; tonight and tomorrow."
"I'll sleep at the hospital," I said. 
Chris laughed. "I don't think they let you do that."
I shrugged. "We'll see." 
"We'll get this all figured out," JC soothed. "Just tomorrow's concert and we don't have to ever come back here again."
I sighed. Just tomorrow. Dear God. How was I going to last?
"How about we head to the hospital now?" Lance suggested. "It's safe there and JC needs to keep his promise."
"My promise." JC rolled his eyes. "How could I forget?"
"I think we've all had enough of the museum anyway," Joey agreed. "JC, make sure to tell your friend it was a real hit."
~~~~~
~~~~~
Okay, hospitals suck. I hate them so much it's not even funny. A lot of the people there are assholes and I don't even think they take care of you that well anyway. 
Okay, not all. Stop making generalizations, Timberlake. 
"What do you mean I can't see her?" I demanded. Another lady at the ICU desk, but the same attitude. They needed some serious staff changes on this floor.
She sighed and stared at me impatiently through narrow spectacles. "Just because you're famous doesn't give you the right to be able to—"
"I didn't say anything about being famous!" I replied. 
"But I know you are." She shrugged. "And I'm not about to give you any special treatment."
"I'm not asking for any!" I exclaimed.
"I mean, you can't just barge in here like you're somebody important and expect—"
"Are you deaf?" I demanded. I was glad the guys were waiting in the lobby because I would definitely already be in trouble if they could hear me. "I'm not trying to use who I am to get anything."
"You'll have to leave now, I already told you that you are unable to see the patient."
"Lady, give me a break. Why? I don't know what kind of grudge you have against me, but this is really important, and being bitter—"
"Security," the woman raised her voice slightly.
I groaned and rested my hands on the countertop. "Please, lady, all I want to know is how she is. Can you just—"" 
"Do I look like a doctor?"
"No, you look like a bitch," I replied. I shut my mouth quickly after that came out. 
She gasped and straightened her glasses. "What? Excuse me? You are not better than me, young man! Just because you make movies and—"
"I don't make movies," I objected. 
She shook her head and picked up the phone. "I'm calling security right now."
She pressed a button and looked at me as she put the receiver to her ear. "Yes, hi, this is Marie at the ICU, extension 232? Yeah, we've got a young man here who's causing some disturbance . . ."
"What?" I gaped at her. Shit. I turned and started walking away quickly. That was great. Now I won't even be allowed in the ICU, never mind be able to see her . . . I was mad at myself but at the same time I focused most of my animosity towards Marie. 
"Guys, they won't let me see her," I said as I approached the four that were sitting on a long bench outside the waiting area. 
"I didn't think so," JC replied. "Justin . . .? Justin?"
I had kept walking out of the ICU with hope that no security was arriving.
I spun to look at him. "Huh? Oh. Sorry." 
"What'd you do?" Chris asked. 
"Why would you ask that . . . ?"
"You have that look on your face. What'd the woman say?"
I hesitated. 
JC groaned. "Why am I thinking that we shouldn't have let you go in there by yourself? That same lady wasn't there, was she?"
"No . . ." I allowed. I swallowed and glanced behind me. "There was another lady."
"Another lady?"
"Okay, okay, they called security on me," I let out. "Satisfied?"
"Security?" Joey echoed. "What the hell you do?"
"I didn't do anything. It was more along the lines of what I said . . ." I admitted. 
"What'd you say then?" He looked appalled.
"I told her what I thought she looked like, what I thought of her hearing capabilities, and I interrupted her a couple times. That's it." I shrugged. "No need for security."
"What'd you say she looked like?" Chris laughed.
"Don't laugh and encourage him," JC said, giving Chris a look. "Come on, Justin. Did they even tell you how she's doing?"
"They won't tell me anything," I replied bitterly.
"Do you wonder why?" Joey murmured.
"Shut up," I snapped. "What do we do now? We can't stay here, we can't go back to the hotel . . ."
"I don't know. I need a nap . . ." JC sighed. 
"We can't just sleep," I said stiffly. 
"We could go out to eat," Joey suggested. 
"Why is food your answer to everything, Joey?"
"Food is comfort," Joey answered with a shrug. 
"Bullshit."
"Somebody's cranky," Chris teased.
I glared at him. 
"I can't sleep. I'm not hungry. They won't tell me anything," he said in a whining voice. "We can't stay here!"
"Shut up, Chris!" I narrowed my eyes.
"I'm taking a vote," JC said. "Who's tired and wants to go back to the hotel, raise your hands." He raised his.
I watched and groaned as Chris, then Joey, and finally Lance raised their hands. They all looked at me.
I should my head. "No. I really don't think we should. I really have a bad feeling about this, and I don't think it's safe to just go back there when they—"
"We'll triple lock the door and unhook the phones," JC offered. "Our security is on high alert, they're not going to let us alone."
I ran a hand through my hair. I wanted to start pulling my hair out. "JC, no. Don't you know it's a lot more serious than that? I don't want to go. I'm not kidding." I took a seat. "I'm not going."
"Justin, don't be a baby," Joey sighed, rubbing his hands together with impatience. "We're all tired. You are too. We're going back. We need to talk things over and just chill out."
"I'm not tired and I'm not going back," I replied. "I'll stay here."
"Alone?" Chris challenged. "Isn't it less safe for you to be wandering alone?"
I paused, because he was right but I couldn't admit it, and said, "I'll be fine," with at least some certainty in my tone. 
"You're just going to worry yourself here," Lance reminded. 
"But there's security."
"We have our own security back at the hotel," Joey said. "Come on. I can't believe that this is going to turn into an argument. This is just to sleep and then we'll maybe get another hotel."
"No maybe. I'm not going back to that hotel, period. So unless—" 
"Okay, guys," JC interrupted. "Let's leave Justin and just go back ourselves. If that's the way it has to be . . . He can have what he wants and we'll just go back and rest ourselves."
What? Coming from JC? What was this? Some sort of warped reverse psychology? I stared for a moment as they agreed and my four best friends turned and walked away. I felt disparaged and got angry.
I watched them leave and crossed my arms gently over my hurting stomach. I began to get worried when not one looked back. JC wouldn't actually leave me here alone, would he? 
Nah . . .
After a couple minutes, I was convinced that maybe he didn't care after all. He'd just walked away . . .
Of course, the decision to do just that had been four to one . . . They'd voted.
Okay, maybe I was being a bit stubborn.
A lot?
Hm . . .
With a sigh, I got up and started down the hallway they'd gone down. I was a bit agitated that they'd grouped against me.
I turned down the next hallway and skidded to a stop when I saw the four of them standing there, leaning against the wall as if waiting. 
"Joey, you owe me ten bucks," Lance said, holding his hand palm up. 
Joey slapped his hand. "I don't think so!" He laughed.
"We knew you'd come to your senses, Justy." Chris grinned at me.
I glared back. "I'm still not going back to the hotel. And thanks a lot for just leaving me." 
"Just, we were waiting right here for you," JC objected.
"Away from me!" I pointed out. "Same difference."
"So how exactly are you going to stay with us and yet not go to the hotel?" Joey challenged. "Stand in front of the car?"
"Depends whose driving," I replied slowly. "But maybe."
"We're going back to the hotel," JC said decisively. "It'll be fine. We all just want to do what's best." He looked at my expression and I could sense his frustration. "Justin, I swear. You are something else."
I stood uncertainly. "It's just one night."
"Exactly, Jus. You'll be fine." 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Joey, do you have . . ." I stared down at my cards. ". . . a two?" So after giving up and winding back at the hotel where such terrible things had transpired, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the floor with the guys playing cards and watching TV. 
Joey groaned and tossed the card over. "This sucks. How am I losing all my cards? JC, do you have an eight?"
"Nope," JC replied. "Go fish."
Joey muttered something under his breath as he grabbed another card.
"Lance . . ." JC started. "A six?"
Lance threw two at him. "Chris, do you have—"
Before he could finish, Chris closed his hand of cards and put them beneath the pile. "I give up. Go Fish shouldn't last this long," he explained. "I'll watch."
"Okay . . ." Lance laughed. "Justin . . . do you have a four?"
I stared at my card of hands and at the three fours I'd been holding onto. "Go fish," I replied, deadpan. Lance shrugged and reached for a card. I bit my lip and tried not to let out the laugh that was building up inside me. I cheated the entire game and no one had even suspected yet. Did they wonder why I never had the card they were asking for?
"Justin!" Chris exclaimed suddenly as he leaned back to stare at my cards. 
"What?" I demanded, pulling them away so he couldn't see. 
"No wonder I was losing! You're cheating!"
I rolled my eyes. "How can you cheat at 'Go Fish'?" I retorted.
"Oh, yeah, how can you cheat. You tell me."
"Chris, let it go," JC sighed.
"JC, he's got three fours. Lance asked him if he had any and he said no. He's got the two tens I asked for before. And the list goes on."
JC threw his cards down. "Well, now I know why your little brother beats me at every card game I play," he said. "You're both the same."
"So now you're quitting?" I stared at them in disappointment.
"Nah, I'm just going to let you beat me," Joey replied sarcastically, standing. "I don't think so." He dropped the cards and they fluttered down to the ground in front of my face.
"Fifty-two pick-up," Lance called, dropping more cards as he stood. 
They left for the kitchen and I sighed, dropping my 'winning' hand. I pushed all the cards into one messy pile and followed them.
"Guys," I started. "We can play something else."
JC sat down at the table and rested his head in his hands. "Man, I'm just tired."
"Me too . . ." Lance sat opposite him. 
"You can't be tired!" I exclaimed. 
"Well, I am," JC replied. "Today was a really busy day. I can't believe you're not tired at all, Curly." 
I was exhausted. "Well, I'm not!" I lied. "We've got more soda, you know."
"Pumping JC full of caffeine will not keep him awake." Joey laughed.
"We'll see about that." I set my jaw.
"Justin, we have a show tomorrow . . ." JC groaned. "Don’t forget, alright?"
"Want to watch a movie?"
"Justin." His voice was more of sympathy than frustration now. "It's late, babe. Aren't you tired at all?" I shook my head, but he continued. "We might as well just go to sleep. This isn't helping anything, staying up."
"More cards?" I asked.
"No."
"Another game?"
"No."
"Fine then what do you guys want to do?"
"You know, despite your selective hearing, what we want to do is sleep." He got up and gave me a slap on the back. "Good night, Justin." He walked out without another word.
"Ditto." Joey left.
"Sorry, Justin," Lance said with a shrug. He walked out.
I turned to Chris, who was standing. "And you?"
"I am tired," he said. "We have a concert tomorrow. Make sense? You know you're just as tired as we are. We'll just have a good night's sleep and your night here will be done."
"Forget the good!" I exclaimed as he walked out. I crossed my arms. Great. Just great.
Well, I could keep JC awake at least since he was on the couch. He was in the bathroom when I went back inside, so I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. 
He groaned when he returned. I looked up and smiled. He was in boxers and a t-shirt with an expression of pure exhaustion. 
"Why, hello, JC," I greeted. I flipped the channels.
"Justin, please, kiddo, get up. I'm not joking around with you anymore. I'm really tired. I know you think staying up somehow makes you feel better, but—"
"What was that? Sorry, I don't think that movie's on, JC . . . What else do you want to watch?"
"I can't play with you anymore, Justin. We've got a busy day tomorrow. I need sleep." He took my arm. "I really mean it this time, Jus."
I gave him an imploring look.
"Can I sleep in your bed, then?" 
"No!" I yelled. 
"But you can sleep on the couch, Justin." He faced me again. "What difference does it make?"
I shrugged.
He sat down next to me and curved his arm around my waist, fingers squeezing my side. "Justin, you'll be much happier if you just go to bed yourself. We've all had enough for the night, and it's been a crazy week."
"I know." I rested my head on his shoulder.
He sighed. 
"Fine, I'll go to bed," I said softly. "I just wanted to talk to you."
"Talking to you never amounts to much recently," he replied. "And you know it."
"I don't know if I can sleep, that's all."
"I know you're tired too, so just try." He turned his head and carelessly his lips brushed my forehead in a form of a good night kiss. "No harm in trying."
"Yeah."
"Go to bed, J."
"Night." I stood up and silently headed to my own room. Frustrated, I walked in and heavily pounced on the bed. 
"I think you almost broke the bed," Lance replied monotonously. 
"Whatever." I turned on the light.
"Yes, it's okay, Justin. You can turn on the light. No, it won't bother me. I'm only trying to sleep," he said sarcastically.
"Oh, sorry." I reached to turn it off again. 
"Nah, it's okay." Lance laughed. "Want to talk?"
"Sure." 
"You know, contrary to appearances, the guys and I do just want to sleep. It's not like we're doing this to spite you or something."
"Yeah, I know." I stared into the blackness, reflecting on everything that had been scaring me the past week. "We do have a concert tomorrow."
"Ah, it finally dawns on him!"
"Ha, ha," I muttered. I hesitated and listened to the silence. "When I thought it was going to be over, it's just getting worse. I'm really scared, you know." 
"Oh, yeah?" Lance asked. "Of what?"
"Everything." I turned onto my side and rested my head against the pillow. "Of all this shit. I don't know when the next thing will happen. I didn't even see how bad this would get, and it's too much. I was not expecting this. I wasn't ready for it."
Lance didn't answer so I continued.
"And all this stuff that I thought would help isn't . . ." I sighed. "I mean, telling the guys . . . Well, that helped. A little. But it doesn't get rid of my problem. The only thing that would, or I thought would, was going to police. So I did. And now look. I really don't trust that it did much either… Lance?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"Nothing. Just making sure you're listening." I laughed with a hint of sarcasm. "Not that you listening can help anything either… I don't know what to do . . And I keep coming to you. Sorry."
"No, no. Don't be. I'm glad to try to help."
"Okay. Well, supposedly I should forget about all this and we move on in a day? I can't do that."
"I don't think you should," Lance agreed. "I don't think anyone thinks you can or should just forget about it."
"If they want to fix this, they're going to find me no matter where I am. And I want to figure this out before I go home . . . If I got my parents or brothers entwined in this . . . God, I think I'd kill myself."
"Justin . . . It will all work out. Very soon."
"It's just scary, Lance. It's my fault in the first place. My mom doesn't even know about this. I haven't called her. If she only knew . . . I think she'd kill me."
"It's not your fault."
"Yeah it is." I let out a breath. "If I hadn't gone out. If—"
"If!" Lance interrupted. I heard his mattress creak as he sat up. "Don't you see? If. You can't go back, Justin. So don't reflect on that. Think ahead. What are you going to do now?"
"You're right." I bit my lip. "I can't do anything about what happened . . . Well, I wanted to get a new hotel. I know, I won't go into that." I smiled. "I want to go to the police and know that something will get done. But it's such a big risk . . . I really want to get those two assholes locked up. And I want to see Ashley before we leave and know that she's okay. In fact, I'm not leaving until I see her again."
"Okay, the last one might be a little problem. The ICU hasn't been too friendly, Justin."
"I know. But I have an idea . . ." I started slowly.
"Oh? And what would that happen to be?"
I hesitated. "Um, what if we just act like doctors?"
"Act like doctors?"
"Yeah. If you just act like you know where you're going, dress professionally, and all that. Most people wouldn't question you."
"Oh my God . . ." Lance sighed. "You're crazy."
"I'm going to do it. It's perfect. Do you think JC, Joey, and Chris would approve?"
"I don't even know if I approve!" Lance replied with a hint of laughter. "Don't you think it's a bit . . . outlandish?" 
"A bit . . ." I admitted. "But I really need you behind me, Lance! I can't go alone."
"What about the guys?"
"What would they say?" I replied. "Yes or no?"
"Chris would say yes," Lance answered. "Joey . . . Joey I don't know. Maybe. Depends how much you beg. And JC? I somehow doubt it. Unless you really make it sound like a life or death thing."
"It is," I replied.
"Okay. I understand. But how about we get some rest now? Tomorrow's going to be a really busy day. And maybe if you sleep on it you'll agree that it sounds crazy."
"Good night," I said. "And thanks."
"You're welcome." 
~~~~~
~~~~~
I woke up early and forced Lance up as well. I wanted to get to the hospital as early as possible so that the excuse 'we're too busy today' wouldn't interfere. I know we had a soundcheck and a new arena, so we'd be rushed, but this was basically my last chance and I needed to see Ashley. I needed to see with my own eyes that she would be alright before we were somewhere far away.
"Wear khakis," I instructed Lance as he left for the shower. "Doctors don't wear jeans." I had already changed. I wasn't even wearing sneakers. I wanted to be as believable as possible.
He muttered some sort of agreement, linked with subsequent sarcasm, and disappeared behind the door. I gazed at JC sleeping on the couch for a moment. That man could sleep through anything. I wasn't going to wake him up either. We'd leave a note or something. That way, he couldn't really stop us. I wasn't going to risk his reaction to the idea; I was willing to risk his reaction when we got back. 
I grabbed a box of cereal out of the cabinet as soon as I reached the kitchen and took a bowl, a glass of juice, and a spoon. Lance had eaten while I was in the shower. I was just pouring when Joey walked in and took a seat at the table. He was wearing boxers and a white undershirt. 
"You're up early, Curly," he noted. "And who's in the shower?"
"You're up early too," I answered. "And Lance," I replied, bringing my bowl to the table and sitting down. I started eating.
"You sleep well?"
"Yes," I answered through a mouthful of cereal. I began to worry that Joey would question Lance and me walking out of the door. 
"What time you get to bed?"
"After I left your room." I wished he'd shut up so I could finish eating. Lance would be out of the shower soon and we'd have to go. This might be a problem. 
Calm down . . . Lance just got in the shower. You have time. Joey's not your keeper, it'll be fine.
OK. Just eat.
"Oh, all right." Joey nodded. I felt his eyes on me. "How come you're eating so fast?"
I shrugged and swallowed another spoonful. "Hungry."
"Well, slow down," he persisted. "Try chewing."
"Shut up, Joe."
"Well why are you so rushed?" He got up and took a carton of milk out of the fridge. Then he grabbed a glass and sat back down. "And why are you all dressed up?" He started to pour.
"This isn't dressed up. Can't a guy get dressed without drama?" I put my spoon down and glared at him.
"Well you just look nice. Especially for so early in the morning when you're usually still a zombie."
"So sue me for getting dressed," I exclaimed. I picked up the spoon again.
"Justin . . ." he started.
I didn't answer. I took another mouthful of cereal and chewed to avoid talking, staring at him patiently.
"What are you up to?"
I shook my head and swallowed. "Nothing, Joey. Aren't I allowed to dress the way I want?"
"Sorry," he replied in an exaggerated tone. "I'm used to another Justin at this hour, that's all. But maybe I'll like this one better."
"You're not funny, Joey." I heard the shower stop. This was just great. Joey was not going to let me out the door. I could sense it. He was gong to try to figure out what was up. I knew something like this would happen. He had no reason to object though. 
"Justin, seriously, what are you up to?" Joey asked. "I can tell your mind is working overtime."
"I'm eating breakfast and talking to you. Is this a crime?" I retorted. 
He studied me carefully. "I haven't decided yet. It's more the look in your eye."
I shook my head. "You're bugging me, Joey." 
"You're really confusing me . . ." Joey replied. "And I want to figure it out."
I sighed. Come on, Joey. Shut up. Why'd you have to wake up? "Why do you have to bother me? Why are you up anyway?"
"I'm up because I'm up. And I'm not bothering you. Go ahead, eat, you baby."
"Well, stop staring. You're making me uncomfortable."
"I know you're up to something . . ."
"I am not!" I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Why do you keep saying that?" 
He frowned. "I can just feel it."
"Yeah, well, you keep thinking that, Joey. I don't know what you're talking about." 
"Hey, Justin," Lance's voice came from the doorway. "You ready to—" He stopped as he walked in and saw Joey. "To . . . uh . . ." 
I glared at him. Smooth move, Lance. Way to raise suspicions. 
"Aha!" Joey exclaimed. "I knew it! What are you guys up to?"
Lance stared at me apologetically. I had to think quickly. 
"Um, yeah, Lance," I replied slowly. "I'm ready to go to…"
"Breakfast," Lance began. He looked at my bowl of cereal. "Uh—" 
"You two are the worst liars in history!" Joey objected. "Come on . . . Tell me the real story. You make it worse if you don't tell me." He turned. "Lance, buddy, pal, amigo, what are you two up to?"
"What do you mean?" Lance replied with a shrug. "Why would we be up to anything?" 
I needed to get out of here. I glanced down at my watch and my heart raced a little. This wasn't going to work.
"We're just going to go out for a little bit."
"Where to?" Joey asked. 
Lance gave me a look. 
The truth. I had to. Hiding it had only hurt me in the past. 
"Joey, I'm going to see if I can see Ashley," I said. "But you can't say anything or—"
"Oh, Justin." He shook his head. "That's so futile. You don't even know that poor girl. Why are you so—"
"I do know her!" I replied. "I do know her, and I told myself that I was going to make sure she was alright before we left."
"And what if she's not? How is your presence going to change anything?"
"Joey, just let him go," Lance replied. "How is it going to hurt whether or not he goes?"
"If it didn't hurt anything, then why would you two have to do this so quietly?" Joey replied. 
"We're not doing it quietly," I objected.
"You meant to sneak out this morning," Joey said, eyeing me warily. "Don't act so sly. I know you're leaving early hoping not to catch anyone who might advise you otherwise."
"Joey, we're going early just because we have stuff to do later today, and I wanted to make sure to be able to go," I answered. "It has nothing to do with—"
"Then what's with the act? Why were you not going to tell me? Why wouldn't you just tell me when I asked you what you were up to?"
"Because of this." I gestured between us. "Because of how you act, Joey. You're not my keeper. You can't just tell us what we can and can't do just because you disagree."
"So it's just me? If I woke up JC right now you think he'd agree with you?" Joey challenged.
I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation. "Joey, why won't you understand?"
"Because, Justin, it's unnecessary. You're hurting yourself doing this. You're putting attention on yourself, and you're putting yourself in a position that you could easily avoid. I know you feel like you are obligated to—"
"It's not obligation," I interrupted. "Not at all. It's not that I have to. I need to."
"You don't need to, Justin." His eyes were kind, but I couldn't see that. All I could hear was his opposition. "I'm not playing the antagonist here, Jup, but you have to at least think about it."
I set my jaw and looked at Lance. He was quiet in the doorway, simply watching the exchange without much of an expression on his face. He was hard to read. 
I looked back at Joey. "Are you going to stop me?"
Joey sighed and rubbed his stubbled jaw. "Am I going to physically stop you? No, Justin, I'm not. You can make your own decisions, and I don't want to fight you over this. I’m just asking you to be realistic. Not idealistic."
"Lance?" I asked.
"You know I said I'd go with you," he replied quietly.
I nodded. "Joey, we're going."
"Are you taking a cab?"
I paused, surprised at his concession, which I wasn't used to. "Y-yeah."
He nodded. "You bringing anybody with you?"
I knew he meant security, and I shook my head.
"Just be safe, Justin." He looked at Lance. "Both of you. I'm not taking the heat for letting you two run off."
"We'll be back soon," I answered.
"Yeah, you better be."
We left. JC was still sleeping. Joey was still disapproving. But he hadn't stopped us. That sense of support, however thin it was, helped me get down the hall. By the time we reached the elevators, however, I was filled with dread. 
The fear of stepping out of the elevator turned my stomach, and I tried to calm my nerves as we walked across the lobby and out the doors.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. 
We stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Don't be an idiot! It has to work! I'm gonna see Ashley. Maybe the last time before we leave.
Yeah, but what if you get killed on the way there? There's people watching, you know.
Do what Chris said. Stay in crowded areas. Besides, Lance is here. Two is better than one. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Okay, follow me," I instructed Lance once we were in the hospital.
"Why?" he replied. "Do you know where you're going?"
"Not a damn clue," I admitted. "But neither do you."
He shrugged and we walked down the hall. We weren't on the level of the ICU yet because I wanted to accomplish a couple of things first. One, gather my nerves, and two, get more of a feel for the hospital. Maybe if we were lucky, find some doctor's scrubs or jacket to put on before we went. Otherwise, I doubted our success.
This was such a ridiculous plan.
But maybe, just maybe, it would work.
I peered into a room only to find it was a lunch room. A woman in there stood up as soon as she saw me. She had curly black hair and was in a nurse's uniform. She had a stethoscope around her neck.
"Hey, you're not supposed to be here," she said sharply. "This is off limits to visitors."
I froze. Lance stood behind me. "Um . . ." I started. "Um, my dad works here and he told me to meet him and . . . and . . . I forgot where he told me to meet him so I'm looking around." 
She sighed. "What's your dad's name?"
I stared at her. "Uh…"
She eyed me suspiciously.
"I shouldn't say," I replied. "I think I'm early." We started walking away.
"I could call him for you," she said. I heard the suspicion in her voice.
"No thanks," I replied as we kept walking. 
We kept our pace up and after a minute, I turned to look behind us. She was no where in sight, and likely back to her breakfast. 
"This isn't going to work," Lance began.
"That was nothing."
"Hey, that was fun," I replied. 
We found what we were looking for next, when we stumbled across a closet full of linens and even better, clothes.
I grabbed green, plastic like pants and pulled them on over my khakis. They were big, but good enough. Then I grabbed a green shirt as well. Maybe scrubs would be convincing. Lance, slightly less eager, put on a white jacket. I handed him a stethoscope that I saw on the shelf.
"Gee, Lance," I started. "You actually look like a doctor."
"Dr. Bass," he said with a smile. "I like the sound of that." He looked me over. "You on the other hand . . ."
"Oh no . . . No good?" I frowned.
"This is ridiculous." He shook his head. "Can't we just go up and ask if we can just see--"
"They haven't let us in."
"It's worth a shot."
"No. Then they'll know what we look like if we try to just walk in and—"
"You don't even know what room she's in up there."
I swallowed. "We can do this. I just want to see with my own eyes."
He nodded. "Okay. But I’m warning you." He looked at my attire, up and down.  "You look like you're about to go out trick-or-treating or something, Justin. They won't buy that." 
"Uh, what's wrong with it? It's my hair, right? Dammit. I hate my hair!"
"You look too young . . ." He studied me and then grabbed a matching green cap you put over your hair and put it on my head. He tied it. "Better . . ."
"It can't just be better!" I whined. "It's got to be perfect!"
"Well, it's the best you're going to get. Let's go."
"Just act like you belong," I advised.
By the time we reached the ICU, we were both nervous. I could hear my heart pounding and I could tell by the look on Lance's face that he was starting to doubt my ingenious idea. 
"Should we ask at the front desk?" I whispered to Lance.
"You just said that—"
"I know but I'm not sure!"
"I don't know!" he hissed back. "This is your idea."
My idea. My idea. "No, let's just walk through," I decided in a low voice. 
Before we could even get to the patients' rooms, we were stopped by a big, burly nurse who just happened to be replacing a chart. She crossed her fat arms over her chest and glared at us with squinty black eyes.
I knew it. We looked ridiculous.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
I inwardly groaned. "No, no thank you," I objected, trying to walk past. She took my arm.
"No, I don't think so, Doctor," she answered. I wasn't sure whether I was the only one that heard the sense of sarcasm in her voice. She looked at Lance. "Can I help you two?" 
"We're just here to see a patient," Lance replied. Maybe his deep voice would convince her.
"You two aren't supposed to be here, are you?" She eyed us. "Where's your identification?"
"Why would you say that?" I objected. "We're just here—"
"First of all," she began. "I've worked here for fifteen years, and I have never seen you two before. Secondly, you have this," she pulled at my shirt, "on backwards. Now, can I help you with something?"
I could feel my cheeks color. We must look so suspicious. "I'm really sorry." I took a breath. "I just want to know how someone… Why can't I know how my friend's doing?" I asked. "That's all I want, and every time I try to come in here to find out, it's just impossible…"
She shrugged. "I can tell you how they're doing," she replied, softening. "You just can't see anybody here. Unless you're direct family, we have strict rules about—"
"That's okay. I just wanted to know how she was. . ."
"I can do that for you," she assured. "Name?"
"Ashley Graye." I smiled. 
"Okay, go wait in there." She pointed to a lobby. "I'll find out as much as I can and get back to you."
"Thank you," Lance answered. She turned away and we started for some chairs.
"That wasn't so bad," I replied, pulling the green cap off my head. "Even if I don't get to see her, at least I'll know how she's doing."
"We look really shitty, Justin," he said.
"I know." I pulled the shirt over my head. "Pretty sketchy."
"She could have reacted much worse."
I shrugged. "I suppose." I started to pull the scrub pants off, piling it on the seat next to me before I sat.
Lance nodded and sat beside me. "Why couldn't the other lady have been nice enough to just tell you how she was? We would have saved a lot of time."
I shrugged. "Maybe it was because I insulted her."
He smirked. "Sometimes you forget your years of PR training."
"Shut up, Lance."
"You know, I feel like crap right now. I'm sure people are staring at us, trying to figure out what the hell we thought we were doing. Because we certainly don't look like doctors."
"Shut up, Lance."
"Well you think we do?"
"No, but I don't care." 
"Well, you're the one that stuck out the most anyway; in all that green . . ." 
I rolled my eyes. I knew he was joking around, but I was only half paying attention. I was more concentrated on the possible news I could be hearing. I was hoping for the best. My stomach was in knots, anxiously waiting.
The woman returned, and I straightened in my seat, already feeling myself sweat. She took a seat down adjacent from Lance and me, almost facing us. Her face looked complacent, serious.
"How is she?" I asked, breaking the silence.
The woman clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. "I'm afraid I don't have very good news . . . And I hate to be the one to tell you this."
My mouth went dry, and I tried to ask something, but I wasn't sure what I intended to say. She hadn't even told me anything yet. But all I could think was that she was wrong. Of course she had good news. It was Ashley. How could it be anything but good?
"This is always hard . . ." she continued. "And unfortunately in intensive care we sometimes have to bear bad news."
What was she talking about? Suddenly the entire world had stopped and it was just this voice. This stupid voice. I didn't even know this woman, this woman who had been nice enough to go and get my information, and already I hated her. 
"I'm afraid that Ashley wasn't able to pull through," she said.
And that was it.
I stopped then. Blanked out. Her lips were still moving, but any sound emitted was silence to me. I lost feeling. No emotion went through my body. I just sat there. How could that be? She hadn't been that bad, had she? Had they not told me everything? I mean… She was transferred to the ICU, but…
I was still until Lance was right in front of me, taking my hand. "I'm sorry, Justin," he said gently. "I don't know what to tell you."
I blinked.
The nurse was gone. It was just me and him.
No, correction. It was just me. I was alone. My whole purpose was gone. Ashley was gone. 
A wave of cold guilt flashed over me, and I suddenly felt nauseous. What was there left to do?
This would have happened anyway, I told myself. Even if you weren't involved, this would have happened anyway.
But there was something about losing a child. Something I couldn't describe. Something so unjust.
"Let's get going," he persisted. Dead, I followed his lead. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Where were you?" JC asked when we returned.
Chris looked at us questionably. "Joey said you went back to the hospital? Why?"
"I tried to justify it," Joey replied. "Even though you know how I feel too."
Three voices attacked us when we knocked on the door to our hotel room. Three voices I ignored, pushing into the hotel room and towards my room, oblivious to the chastisement that surrounded me. 
I shut the door, closing my eyes. Shouldn't I be feeling something? Shouldn't I be upset? I wasn't affected at all. It hadn't hit me. I still couldn't understand the concept that something so shocking had happened. It hadn't. In my mind, nothing had happened. Nothing was different. 
The door opened, banging into my side. A dull pain woke me from my thoughts and I turned sharply.
JC. 
"Sorry, bud . . ." he said. "Didn't mean to get you with the door."
"It's okay," I answered. I stared at him passively.
"Um…" His voice was hesitant. "Uh, Lance just told us. I'm really sorry, Justin . . . Are you going to be okay?" His eyes probed mine.
"I'm fine," I assured him.
"You're fine?" He scrutinized me carefully. 
"Yeah, I was expecting this." Liar. You were not. "She's better off now, right?"
"Of course . . ." He nodded, seeming confused. "She's at peace, and from what it sounds like, she didn't suffer."
From what it sounds like? What did he know? What did I know? I could barely remember the nurse's words. It was a blur.
I nodded at him. So she was in heaven. A picture of an innocent girl with pig-tailed hair and overalls appeared in my mind. Smiling with bright eyes and laughing. It was shattered by her bloodcurdling scream. I blinked. 
"Justin?"
I looked down. There was blood on my hands. Pooled on the floor at my feet. Staining my clothes. I tried to think about what it had been like for her.
I looked up. "What?"
"Justin, I'm worried about you," JC continued. "I want you to know that I'm here. We all are. If you want to talk—"
"JC, I'm fine," I said stiffly. 
I had killed her. Not with my own hands, but with my decisions. I'd killed two people. I felt sick. 
"Well, you don't look fine."
"What would you know?" I snapped, feeling nauseous. "I can't get five seconds of peace with you guys."
"I'm sorry."
"So you don't know anything."
"I know you."
"Then you know that I don't want to talk to you," I replied. "No offense, JC. I don't want to talk, period."
"You want to be alone then?"
"No." I took a shallow breath. "JC, I'm fine. I don't want to talk because there's nothing to talk about. That's all."
"I just want you—"
"I know you're there. I know the other guys are there. I know that everyone in the whole God damn world is there, okay?" I demanded.
"Okay. Just making sure," JC said quietly. "I'll leave now."
Before I could object, he was gone and the door was closed. 
And once again I was alone.
~~~~~
~~~~~
Practice was practice. Something that couldn't change. Especially for something I couldn't explain being close to.
No one had any reason to worry about me or ask questions because I performed every routine perfectly. No flaws. That was because I was one hundred and fifty percent concentrated on it. And only it. I wouldn't allow anything else to cross my mind. That was safer.
We broke for lunch. My lungs ached with my extra effort, objecting to working so hard. I ignored it. I accustomed myself to it.
"We can get out of here for lunch," Chris said. "If there's something close by."
"How about Mickey D's?" Joey suggested, toweling off his face. "I saw it like a block away."
"Sounds good to me," Chris said. "How about everybody else?"
Agreement followed. I didn't care. It wasn't like I was going to eat anyway. Food was the least appealing thing I could think of at that moment. 
I hated the constant attention I felt from the other four. Normally I thrived on their attention, but now it was a burden. It was a kind of attention, pity, that I'd rather not ever feel.
It resumed when we got to McDonald's and I just stared at my food. I didn't even realize it until Joey pushed a box of French fries over to me.
"Come on, Curly. I don't know how you can't be hungry," he said. "You worked your ass off this morning."
"I’m eating," I replied, pushing them back. Just to prove it, I took a bite of the burger sitting in front of me that I'd only eaten about a quarter of. I gave him a look. 
"Okay, because this is just the last time we'll break in a while. You want to make sure you have enough to eat." 
"I'll be fine with this," I said stiffly. "I'm not that hungry." 
"You want ice cream?" JC asked.
"I'm not that hungry," I repeated.
I pleaded with them silently to start talking about something else. I couldn't stand this silence and attempted sympathy. I started to make an accordion out of my straw wrapper. The paper was wet and it tore before I could finish. I tossed it to the table wistfully. 
"Justin . . ." Lance started. "You okay?"
"Yes," I said emphatically. "Just… Just talk about something else for God's sake. Ya'll have to stop staring at me."
A moment of silence followed but then Joey started up on something he'd seen on TV that morning. Chris chimed in with a couple of jokes and for a moment things sounded normal.
My vision blurred and I felt tears threatening. Finally, I was feeling something. Even if it was irritation at the guys, it was better then no emotions at all. I sucked another sip of soda through the straw and sighed. I wiped my eyes carefully and started to read the back of my cup. 
McDonald's: Begin your career today with equal opportunity employment. It showed a picture of a fat lady smiling.
I smirked at it. There, a smile.
"What are you smiling at?" Chris asked.
I looked up at him. "Oh, nothing. The cup."
"He's been acting really weird," I heard JC whisper.
"Well, he's probably taking this hard," Lance replied. "It was a shock."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and as weird as I may be, I can still hear pretty well," I said somewhat dryly
"Sorry," Lance answered. "Just conversation."
"I would rather we just… not talk about this. I'm going to get a refill." I got up and grabbed my cup. It was half full and I didn't really feel like anymore, but it was a convenient escape. "Anyone else?"
They shook their heads at me and I left.
I waited online just for a minute before getting my refill whereby they dumped out what was in my cup, filled it mostly with ice, and stuck it under the automatic dispenser.  
I had just turned from the counter when something jabbed into my side from behind. I inhaled sharply, expecting to find Chris, and turned my head.
It was the woman.
"Don't say a word," she hissed. "Come with me."
Go with her? Oh, God. Crowded areas my ass. I was in the middle of McDonald's and I still wasn't safe.
"Smile and nod." The pressure dug deeper into my side and I obeyed, smiling. I knew it was a gun and didn't want to risk it. "Now, come." She held my arm and led me out the door. We passed a man and two children going in. They didn't even look twice.
I was pushed up against the outside wall the moment we got out. My soda cup dropped to the ground. The liquid spread over the pavement. "What's with the cop business?" she demanded, gun at my throat. 
I swallowed. My back hurt from its collision with the brick. "Cops?" I couldn't even remember any cops.
"You went to the cops, and we want to know what you said."
"I saw you with that cop," I answered. "I'm sure you know everything, whether he is even a real cop."
"Oh he is. Fortunately a cop who can relate to our situation."
I swallowed.
"So despite our mutual trust, you went and told him everything." Her voice was like an accusatory growl. It made me shiver. "Does that mean we can't trust you anymore?" The gun was cold against my skin.
"What do you want?" I whimpered. "I don't know what you want from me."
"Cooperation. And we will take any means to get it, even if it means you you’re your status can't keep you safe forever. Understand? Ashley is a fine example for you."
I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean that you can expect a similar result if you don't move on with your life, move on from this town, and never think about it again."
"You killed her?" A fire sparked in my heart. My blood ran like ice through my veins. "Is that what you're saying?"
Her eyes remained locked. "I can only say I warned you."
What could I say? I just swallowed back everything. 
"I could so easily pull this trigger," she warned as her eyes narrowed. "In fact, you have four friends in there that we could choose from next. All I need to do is give the signal and that nice man that you've met can take care of any of them."
"Don't," I implored.
"Your schedule is all over, it won't be hard to keep track."
"Don’t…"
"Don't? Now, isn't that something. You're asking me to do something? Well, how about that? You don't keep up your end of the deal and now you expect me to do something for you? I don't think so. Our patience is getting thin, understand me?"
I nodded. "Please . . ." I begged. "They're not involved." 
"You've done nothing to uphold our agreement. In our circles, that has consequences. Which of those four inside means the least to you?" she hissed.
I simply stared at her.
"Which one?" she demanded. "We could kill all of them if you'd like." 
I was supposed to choose? I weakened and leaned against the wall again. She leaned in closer to me and I could smell the musk of smoke on her clothes.
"Which?" she persisted. "Come on. I warned you. How about the one with the dreads? Hm?"
I shook my head. 
"How about the blonde one then? Does he mean the least to you?"
"No . . ." I whispered.
"The big guy? Huh? Would you care if I shot him?"
"Don't . . ." Was this for real? She was kidding. She had to be. Was I dreaming?
"Then there's only one left. It must be him, huh? Should I give the signal?"
"Please . . . I'll do anything," I swore, starting to cry. "Don't hurt them. I just want this to be over too."
"Anything? Hm, interesting proposal, Justin. But I don't know. All you've done is disappoint me so far . . ." 
"What was I supposed to do?" I sniffled. "I don't know what to do."
"You were supposed to keep your mouth shut," she growled. "That's what."
"It wasn't up to me . . . It really wasn't my choice. I had to."
"Then should I kill them for it?"
I shook my head fervently. "No."
She just looked at me angrily, then shoved me away from her.
"Dammit. Why'd you have to be some famous pretty boy? Couldn't you have been some homeless shit that no one would have cared about?" She shook her head. "Because of a million prepubescent girls I can't just fucking shoot you . . ." 
"What are you going to do then?" I brightened slightly.
"Oh, no, no . . . Don't think that I won't shoot you. The fact that I'm not supposed to doesn't mean anything. You piss me off and bye-bye. Got it?"
I nodded.
"Good boy. Now you go back inside to your little friends and don't say a word about this. This is just a warning. I find out you say another word, and believe me, I will know, then one of your friends gets a bullet. Understand?"
I nodded.
"Understand?" she asked again. 
"Yes."
She waved her hand quickly and a car squealed across the parking lot. I couldn't see the driver, but before I knew it she was jumping into the passenger seat and it squealed off again.
I stood there for a moment, feeling weak.
When I went back inside, I was more in shock than anything else. And I was caught between a rock and a hard place, completely insecure and unsure about what I should do.
"Um, didn't you go to get soda, Justin?" Joey asked when I sat back down.
"I . . . uh, I decided I didn't want any." I took the empty fry box that was a couple of centimeters away from my hands and began to rip it apart nervously. I certainly wasn't going to say anything in here.
"Well, it sure took you a long enough time to decide you didn't want any," Lance noted.
"Yeah." I nodded. "I stopped at the bathroom."
Chris pointed to the other side of the table, where the bathrooms were just feet away. "Justin, are you okay?" Chris asked.
"Yeah, I’m fine. Are we all ready to go?"
Four pairs of skeptical eyes were locked on me. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Justin, come here for a second?" JC called to me once we had reached the arena to practice again.
I looked up at him in slight exasperation. I knew precisely what he wanted to talk about, and I couldn't understand why this had to happen now. Sighing, I gave in to him, and I followed him back into the dressing room. 
He pointed to a chair. "Sit."
"Will I get a prize?" I asked sarcastically.
"Justin, please . . ."
"Fine, fine . . ." I grumbled as I collapsed in the designated chair. He pulled one up for himself in front of me and crossed his arms.
"Now talk to me." He stared at me. "Please."
I paused. "Isn't there a leather couch or something, JC? And perhaps a desk for you to sit behind? And a potted plant. Yeah, we definitely need a plant. Some soothing music…"
He leaned forward in his chair. "Justin."
I was quiet. My eyes stayed locked on his and I wondered if he could see my fear.
"Justin, I'm not kidding." He almost sounded angry. "Tell me what's going on."
As usual, I fell back onto my only companion. Sarcasm. JC was patient for most of it, used to me.
"Hm . . . Well, let's see . . . I'm being hunted down by two fugitives, hm . . . An eight year old kid was just killed in the hospital, and—"
"Killed in the hospital?" JC interrupted. "Pardon?"
I flushed. "Oh, um, I'm exaggerating." I cleared my throat. "You know what I mean."
He nodded slowly. "Right."
"Let's see, where was I?" I continued. "Stalking, check. Dead eight year old girl, check. Attempted murder . . . Did I mention nosy friends?"
"You should hear yourself." JC shook his head. "I know there's something else bothering you. Something more recent."
"What more could be bothering me?" I retorted. "My schedule is only so big, JC!"
"You're too much . . ." He sat back in his chair.
"Of what?" I quipped. Joking was presently my way of changing the subject. JC, however, had heard all my bad jokes since he lived with me, and seemed unfazed. He continued to stare at me, and I knew I would soon break.
"Explain what happened at McDonald's. I know there's something you know that you're not telling me."
"McDonald's?" I feigned confusion. 
"You know exactly what I'm—"
"Shouldn't we practice?" I interrupted. "JC, the other guys—"
"They know where we are," he retorted. "You're not going anywhere until you talk."
"I am talking!" I exclaimed. "The show is tonight and—"
"Practice can wait," he said stiffly. "You come first."
I quieted. There was no talking back to JC when he was like this. It just didn't work. I was at a dead end. 
"Okay," he began as he folded his hands in his lap. "You ready to be honest with me?"
"I can't." I figured I'd tell him that much. He'd understand, right?
"You can't?" JC frowned. "Of course you can. What are you scared of, Justin? It's me."
"I know…" 
Maybe he would understand. But I couldn't tell him. She said she'd find out and kill one of them. She could be listening right now. I couldn't. They'd gotten into the arena before. Just this conversation itself, just the fact that it was going on, was making me uneasy as it was.
But, oh God. I wanted to tell him.
"Justin . . ." he sing-songed. "You're pissing me off."
I leaned forward in my chair. "JC, I can't." I stared hard at him.
He looked confused. "Why?"
"Because . . ." 
"What's the matter, Jus?"
Just tell him. No one was listening. It was ridiculous to think so. Just do it! Tell him! Let him help you!
I can't.
Just do it.
I can't. 
"Because . . . ?" JC sighed. "Justin, please." He grabbed my arm in a gentle grip. "I need to know what's going on with you."
"Nothing," I whispered. "Absolutely nothing." 
"Baby, please." He closed his eyes momentarily. "Is it me? You can't tell me? If you think I'll be mad or whatever, you're wrong. I—"
"No, JC, you don't get it. I want to tell you, but I can't right now."
"Can you later?"
"No," I answered, but I nodded. 
He nodded slowly, his mouth shaping 'oh'. He looked confused, but like he'd take my word for it now. He got up and patted my cheek gently. "Okay, let's just practice then," he replied. 
I gave a sigh of relief and stood, following him out the door.
I was lost.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Wanna go clubbing tonight?" Joey stood with a drink in his hand, looking hopeful and ready to go out with the first person that offered.
I viewed him from the couch. "Joey . . . We have a concert tonight," I said slowly. "I can't even think about after."
"Want a beer?" He held up his can.
"No, thanks."
"You think you'll be too tired later?"
"I don't know. I'm tired now. Is that any indication?"
He shrugged. Before he could say anything else, Chris entered the room and I turned my attention to him. He looked at the television and then at the two of us.
"What are you two up to in here?"
"Nothing." I shrugged.
Joey nodded. "Nada."
Chris scowled. "You guys are too boring!" He sat down beside me nonetheless. "Lance and JC were just ordering some takeout to be delivered. Figured we'll eat just before the show, you know?" 
"Food?" I frowned. "You've got to be kidding. Didn't we just eat?" 
"We ate, like, five hours ago," Chris replied. "And when I say 'we' I don't mean it collectively. I mean four of us. You barely ate a thing. I would have thought you'd be starving by now."
"I ate." I rolled my eyes. "Maybe not as much as Joey here, but . . ." I sent Joey an impish grin. "That's a feat beyond my means."
He glared good-naturedly. "Watch it."
"So what are they ordering?" I asked with a sigh.
"Chinese, I think."
I nodded, more or less approving.
"What's the game plan for tonight?" Chris persisted. "Are we going to all relax for once or is this going to be another eventful night?"
"Possibly going out," Joey began. "I was convincing Justin to maybe go to a club."
"I never said yes," I began to object.
"Actually I think it's a good idea," Chris persisted, ignoring my objection. "We all need to unwind. We should just relax and have fun."
Joey smiled. "You mean get wasted?"
Chris rolled his eyes but smiled. "That aids in relaxation sometimes… Not going to lie."
"We need to corrupt Justin a little more anyway."
Chris slung an arm over my shoulders. "Oh, I think he's already been corrupted beyond belief."
"No thanks to you," I replied.
"Aw, I don't want to take all the credit," he answered. "That wouldn't be fair."
"Still, I didn't say I'd necessarily come tonight, Joey. So don't get your hopes up." 
"Okay. Up to you. But like Chris said, it's probably a good idea for us to just get out. You especially need to just get your mind off things."
I shrugged. "We'll see."
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Whose ready to get crunk tonight?" I shouted.
Thousands of girls screamed back from the audience. Cameras flashed and hands waved while signs declared me and the others the desire of more than I could count. And I was grateful to them all. Because of them I could smile. In essence, every single one of them was the reason I was alive. I never thought I could love them more, but they were why that woman hadn't shot me on the spot. 
Thank you.
"I didn't hear you!" I taunted, walking across the stage. I waved at the first row and my eyes stopped sadly on one little girl who resembled Ashley. 
Ashley.
Oh, God. 
I had to fight the feeling of depression that rushed over me. For a moment I felt numb. It was hard but necessary. The louder screams that were trying to fulfill my request pushed everything out of my mind. 
The little girl pointed and whispered something to her friend. 
I sighed. 
"I think ya'll can do a little better than that!" I persisted. 
The screams were louder still, as if that were possible. 
"Wow, guys!" I exclaimed. "That was awesome! Well, my name's Justin in case you didn't know. I—"
I paused as the screaming and chanting amplified. I plastered a smile on my face.
"I'd like to thank you all for coming!"
~~~~~
~~~~~
After the show, Joey got his way, and we went out. I went without too much hesitation. Mostly, I wanted something to drink. Maybe I did just need to relax.
Something I liked about this club was the fact that it was crowded and not too bright. For some reason, I felt safe. I didn't feel like anything would touch me here. However, naïve it was, I wanted to stick with that feeling.
I made my way over through the crowd and flashing lights to the bar where I spotted Joey laughing with the bartender as he drank. I'd danced a couple songs with different air-headed girls and needed a rest. My ribs were yelling at me to take it easy.
I walked up to Joey and sat down experimentally. "Hey, Joey," I greeted.
"Oh, hey, Justin," he replied, turning. His voice was slightly distracted. "How's it going?" He took a sip of the liquid in his glass. "Glad you came?"
"Yeah, glad enough. How about a drink?" I asked smoothly.
"Sure thing," he replied. "What are you drinking, my friend?"
"Something strong." I smiled at him.
"Coke it is."
"Joey!"
He laughed at me. "I'm just teasing. What do you want? You like rum and coke."
"Whatever is fine."
He nodded and waved his hand at the bartender. I turned in my seat and scanned the crowd. It was always interesting to watch from an outside perspective. I tried to locate the guys in the crowd but I couldn't find any of them.
"I don't see the guys," I said.
Joey didn't reply. I don't think he'd even heard me. He was starting to talk to the person next to him at the bar. I think she'd recognized him, and he was of course feeding the excitement.
"Joey."
He laughed at whatever comment she'd made and then turned to me. "Yeah, bud, what?"
"I don't see any of the guys," I said.
"I don’t know if—" He cut himself off as the bartender set down a tall glass of coke. He thanked him and slid it over to me. "I don't know where they went. Why?"
I shrugged and picked up the glass. "I don't know."
He watched me drink it. "Too strong?"
"No, it's fine." 
He studied me. "What's the matter?"
"Just tired."
He nodded and finished the rest of his own drink, beckoning the bartender again. "Just tired?"
"Tired of everything going on," I persisted. "Tired of the tour. Tired of stress."
The bartender returned, and Joey pushed his glass back to him. It was refilled with beer. Joey turned back to me. "It'll be over soon enough. Don't you think?"
"I don't know. What are we doing differently that is going to finally solve any of it?"
"We'll get the stuff with the cops figured out, Justin. And then it will be out of our hands, you know?"
I nodded.
"Just keep your chin up. There's no need to let this one week of the tour ruin the rest of it for you. I know it's a big deal, and it's a huge experience, but you'll get through it."
"Do you really believe it, or are you just saying that to get me to stop?"
Joey drank a quarter of his beer and gave me a look. "Justin."
"Because you must be tired of saying that, if you don't really believe it."
"I can't predict the future, but it'll work out." His eyes wondered. "I see a beautiful brunette at twelve o'clock that is desiring my acquaintance." Joey smiled. "I'll be back . . ."
I smiled. "Take your time."
Joey's eyes didn't stray from the brunette. She was in a short red dress, as good as a homing beacon for him. I watched them for a moment with a smirk, but then lost interest. Instead I focused on finishing my drink and then ordered another. 
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. Surprised, I turned.
"Here." A woman with reddish hair handed me a folded piece of paper. "Your friend just told me to give this to you."
"What—" I began but the woman was already walking away. I stared at the paper in my hand. I opened it.
Meet me alone outside now.
Now? Oh no . . . What if . . . Why does this keep happening?
I glanced out to the dance floor and searched the crowd for any of the guys. None were to be seen. I clasped the paper in my hands and panicked slightly. 
My drink came, and I started to drink it. I gulped it more than drank it, out of pure nervousness. I tried to envision what would happen if I just sat at the bar and didn't go outside. Nothing terrible would happen, right?
I tried to find the guys again. I couldn't. Joey had even slipped into the crowd. 
A little unnerved, I remembered the threats. My friends' lives were in danger because of me. It seemed everything I did was putting them more at risk and I would do anything to remedy that. 
I started for the doors and stuffed the note in my pocket. I had the assurance that she wasn't going to kill me. At least, she wasn't supposed too. And I'd kept up my end of the deal so far so she had no reason to. 
Maybe it was stupid to leave. But if I didn't listen, then things would just get worse later.
I left the club and immediately someone grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, effectively holding me to their will. I gasped in pain as I was pulled a ways down the sidewalk. It was pitch black out except for the dim light provided by the street lamp, so I was unable to make out who was holding me. 
"Stop struggling!" hissed the woman's voice in my ear. "What the hell's your problem?" 
I tried to stop walking. I didn't know where I was going. But this woman was strong. I was forced to move because of the position she held my arm. Pain shot through it every time I tried to pull away. 
I was pushed up against a brick wall in an alley. An unexpected move, my head hit the wall hard and I groaned. Spots appeared in front of my eyes, and I almost felt the drink and a half I'd just had return. She just looked on me without sympathy.
"I guess you're wondering why I'm seeing you again," she said in a low voice.
I groaned and bowed my head. I couldn't see straight. 
"Well, it's because I wanted to congratulate you on your last concert at this venue," she continued. She grabbed my chin and wrenched my head up. "Look at me. So what does crunk mean anyway?"
Her words echoed in my head. What?
She continued. "I also wanted to go over what's going to happen when you leave this place. You may think that by distance, you've rid yourself of us."
"What do you want?"
"We merely want to secure our safety, Justin. Don't you understand that by now?"
"But I told you I haven't done anything."
"Not yet, you haven't. Or so we believe." She began talking about the future, a little bit of their plans, how my silence depended on everything. 
She stopped talking as a new sound filled the cold air. A siren. I saw flashing lights, and I could see her freezing up. 
She grabbed my collar and pulled me closer. "Listen, you little shit.  Did you call anybody?" She was basically dragging me out of the alley. 
I shook my head. "No, no. I swear. That has nothing to do with us."
A police car squealed up to the curb, it's blue and red flashing lights cutting through the darkness like a knife. I tried to regain my energy. This was my chance.
Two men got out of the police car. 
They noticed us coming out of the alley and immediately we caught their attention. 
"Freeze!" the first cop shouted, coming around the car towards us. "Don't take a step."
She let go of me and I saw her reaching for her gun. I didn't know what the cops had to do with this; whether they knew who she was or who I was or what they were doing there. 
I saw the first cop pull his gun from his holster as he saw her move towards a weapon.
"Freeze!" he shouted.
I was not going to witness another gun fight. I started running down the sidewalk. My feet pounded on the pavement as I used new found energy. I had to get out of there. 
"Hey!" I heard a policeman shout. "Come back!" 
I ignored him and kept running. Who knew if they were real cops? I wasn't about to take the chance. If this wasn't a coincidence, I wasn't going to risk that these were more cops that had some kind of relationship to her or her partner. 
I turned down a street and stopped, panting as I stared at the street ahead of me. I could barely breathe and my vision was fuzzy. It was dark and I shivered. My adrenaline rush seemed to fade as quickly as it had come.
Running for a moment seemed stupid. But then it was the only reaction that made sense.
Pain pounded in my head. I couldn't hear, I could barely see.
I felt overcome. With fear, anger, and simple emotions. I felt like I could explode and my heart raced alongside my mind. Where would she go? What if they ran after me?
I started to walk again. Just a little walk. Time to clear this.
~~~~~
~~~~~
A half hour and a splitting headache later, I was confused. The events of that night seemed jumbled and inconsistent. I wanted to go back to the hotel. I wanted to see the guys. I had no desire to go back to that club, and I hoped they'd left.
Then I realized how insanely worried or angry they must be, because they definitely wouldn't leave without me. I wondered what possessed me to run, but I knew I wouldn't have done anything differently if I chose to go back. 
I forced myself up and leaned against the building wall behind me. I closed my eyes momentarily, wishing to erase everything and at the same time trying to sort it out. There was so much to do.
Phone . . . I needed to find a phone. I gazed down the street and squinted. Needless to say, the streetlights did not provide the greatest light. I wondered what time it was. I could make out a phone booth not too far away. 
I flipped through the phone book there and found a cab company. 
"Hi, I'm on . . ." I strained to read the street sign. "I'm on London Street." 
They told me a cab would be there in five minutes and I thanked them, hanging up the phone.
My head was killing me.
~~~~~
~~~~~
I paid the cab and then just stood outside for a minute, staring at the hotel. Even after I heard them drive away, I merely stood there. Finally I started for inside with a deep breath. It was late, I was tired, and it was time just to get things over with. Admittedly, I was a little freaked out. I regained some confidence when I reached our floor, mostly because I was just relieved to be back, but the feeling soon dissipated.
I hesitated when I reached our door because it stood ajar. Worry replaced confidence, but I pushed myself and then it open, soon to become stunned. 
There was a cop sitting in one chair. Joey was sitting in a chair pulled in from the kitchen while the other three were on the couch. I began to frown at first, but then simply walked inside and shut the door behind me.
Joey was the first to notice, and he immediately jumped up. "Justin!" 
"Hey. . ." I was a little confused.
"What's wrong?" Joey frowned as he reached me. "You okay?"
JC, Chris, and Lance reached me next. 
"I . . ." I began. "Yeah, I'm fine. I. . . I assume the cop is here for me?"
"Yeah," Joey began. "He just wants to talk to you for a minute."
"I'm so exhausted."
"Where have you been, Jus?" JC began. "I mean we know the short story of what happened outside, but… Where have you been?"
"I . . ." It was hard to explain myself. 
"Mr. Timberlake, can we have a word with you?" came a deeper voice. I looked up and noticed that the cop was standing now. 
"Justin," JC persisted, in a softer voice.
I looked at him. "I don't know how to explain, JC, I—"
"That woman is under custody." 
I stared at him. "What? Wait."
I must have heard incorrectly.
"Where'd you run to, Justin?"
"JC, let him talk to the police and then he can talk to us," Joey persisted.
I frowned, still repeating JC's words in my head. I couldn't quite fathom it yet. But I turned to the police officer, who was still waiting patiently, and gave him a nod. "Alright. Let's get this over with."
~~~~~
~~~~~
After exchanging information, the cop finally left, and I remained on the couch, yawning so wide that tears filled my eyes. "God, I’m tired."
"I bet." Lance made a face.
"I saw you get that note, so I knew something was up," Chris began. "As rash as it seemed, we made the call to the police. You heard me tell him."
"Thank God," I replied, leaning my head back. It was then that I noticed how badly my head hurt, when it made contact with the couch. I rubbed the back of my head and noticed a bump
JC reached from beside me and rubbed the same spot. "Jesus, Justin. You want ice or something?"
"It'll be okay. Just kills."
"You might have a concussion, Jus."
"I doubt it."
"I'll get some ice," Joey offered, getting up and going to the kitchen as I rolled my eyes.
"I'm just so glad that half the problem is out of the picture," Chris began. "Such a relief."
"I know," Lance agreed.
But it reminded me. Half the problem. Half was still out there.
JC reached up to my head and ran his fingers through my hair again. "You've got quite a bump, Curly. Are you sure you don't want to get that checked out?" 
"I'm sure, JC" I replied. 
"I'm not so sure . . ."
Joey pushed JC's hands away and replaced them with the ice. "Now, I can't hold it like this forever," he said. 
I took it from him. "It's fine, Joe." The coolness of it did feel good. 
There was still a lot on my mind, and my mind hurt. I had to go back to the police station tomorrow and identify the woman. I didn't know how much more obvious it could be that she was the one responsible for all of this, but apparently as a witness I had to do a lineup. 
We'd learned of the lack of follow through that had resulted from my last discussion with the police. Not even the proper paperwork had been filled out. Apparently the report back was that the witness chose not to comply and decided to remain silent. Far from the truth. While Johnson, the cop I'd just spoken to, seemed to brush it off as lack of department communication and tenured officers, I wasn't so sure. Regardless, I was just hoping now to be in better hands. 
"Put the ice on your head," JC urged.
I realized I'd been simply holding it for the past minute while I zoned out. That didn't help. I put it back up on my head.
"You all right?" Lance asked.
"I don't know." I shrugged. "I'm just not sure what's going on anymore."
"Why don't we just go to bed," Chris suggested. "Nothing much more to do tonight."
~~~~~
~~~~~
That night I dreamt of many things. I dreamt about Ashley and that morning when I had first met her and her grandmother in the bakery. I remembered the innocence in her expression when she considered our ages and then asked me to be her boyfriend. I remembered her grandmother's pleasant expression and laugh; the way she made me feel welcome that morning when I didn't know where to go. When just another morning of a tour turned out to be something special. And then a nightmare.
The morning played back in detail. It was exactly the same as it had been, but I watched not from my point of view, but from another's, like I was watching a movie. I saw Ashley as she screamed. I saw her grandmother. I saw their blood on my hands, on my clothes, and in a warm puddle on the floor. I saw the look on the face of the bastard who had killed them. The self-righteous smile. 
I saw myself there even though I'd left. I knew I had no idea what really happened when I left, but I saw myself there anyway. Then I saw myself running, the people I left behind laughing. Others dying.
Ashley lying in a hospital bed pale and drawn formed in my mind. Her innocence ripped away from her by the bullet that trespassed her childhood. I remembered her smile for me every time I was there. She knew more than I did. Or she at least chose not to ignore the obvious. But behind her smile was always the sadness in her eyes. But she was still so young.
I couldn't explain it. I really didn't know her. It was a days worth of attachment, more brought on by guilt.
Her death had been hard. I'd tried to ignore that too. Successfully to a point. It hit me then, in the middle of the night, as I lay in the dark with nothing else to focus on. I realized that I probably wouldn't get to see her funeral. I would never see her again.
I tried to tell myself I didn't know her. That I really didn't belong there. It wasn't any more comforting.
I strained to remember our last time together. The past couple of times at the hospital, I never got to see her because she was in the ICU. I hoped that she knew that wasn't my fault. Was she awake when she was there? With no visitors all day long. How sad for a child.
Before that, I had looked in with JC after going to the doctor myself, and she'd been sleeping. That moment she had truly looked like an angel. I was happy JC had at least gotten to see her.
So the last time I had actually spoken to her was the time that Joey had brought me and watched me make a fool out of myself feeding her ice cream. That always made me smile. She had seemed so carefree that day. Joey had told me straight out the truth that day, though, and I had hated him for it. Even though I couldn't see it for myself, he had been right. God, I would have done anything for her. I would do anything to bring her back. I wanted her to live so I could tell her that the people who hurt her were behind bars. 
I stared up at the ceiling and felt the hot tears slid down my cheeks. After tomorrow, I would never see this town again. We would move on. 
I couldn’t pinpoint why I was crying. It still felt bottled up. I tried to be quiet and wiped my face with the pillow. Lance was breathing evenly, asleep. I wanted to sleep too. 
My throat hurt from the suppressed emotion after I tried to stop the tears. I got up out of bed quietly and walked out of the room. I was surprised to see the television on and JC sitting up. He was nearly in the dark, but the glow of the television outlined his features. I walked over and sat down next to him.
"Hey, buddy boy," he said softly, glancing at me. "I didn't wake you with the television did I?"
"No."
"What's up?"
I shrugged silently, watching the television where Nick at Nite played a rerun of Taxi. I shifted to sit closer to him.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I was just thinking," I answered gently.
"About?" he asked.
"Anything and everything," I replied. 
"Everything coming together now?" he asked. 
I nodded. "Yeah. Exactly." I sighed and paused for a moment. "You know, it's funny."
"What's that?" he inquired.
"I wouldn't change a thing," I said. "Everything that's happened, I'm glad it happened. I'm glad I got to meet Ashley."
JC nodded silently, leaning back into his pillow.
"And it would have happened anyway, right? I mean, they were there before me. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know? But if I hadn't been, they wouldn't have been caught and Ashley wouldn't have had anybody on her side. So it's good. Even when I think about everything we went through, it's still kind of worth it because I can help, right?"
"Justin . . ." JC started. "You have no idea how happy I am that you realize that." 
"It's just…" I shrugged. "I don't know. It's still…"
JC nudged me with his elbow. "Don't get worked up, Jus. Feeling guilty isn't going to change anything."
"I know, and that's what you keep telling me." I sighed. "It's just… Like I just had a terrible dream. And I don't know. It's just going to keep replaying in my head. And it's almost like every time it replays, it gets a little bit worse and worse."
"You can't keep thinking about it, Justin."
"I know. I don't want it to interfere with the tour, but—"
"Justin." JC pinched my leg. "It has nothing to do with the tour. It's you."
"Me? I'm fine."
He just sighed. "What was your dream?"
"I don't know. It's just kind of the same thing all over again. Sleeping's not very conducive to rest if you know what I mean."
JC nodded and stifled a bit of a yawn. "Yeah."
"Why aren't you sleeping?" I asked.
"Oh, me? Just couldn't fall asleep. I know you're thinking, how crazy is it that I can't fall asleep. But I was just thinking too. And just switched on the TV." 
"You should probably sleep soon. You're not very nice without your fifteen hours of sleep."
"Oh, fifteen hours. . ." He slid an hour around my neck and pulled me into him. "That would be absolutely heavenly."
I stayed silent for a moment, watching the show and allowing JC to keep me locked under his arm. When it finally hit a commercial, I lowered my eyes and said,
"I'm a little bit scared," very softly.
"Of what?" he replied.
"Of tomorrow."
"Oh, don't be silly, Jus. It'll be nothing. You just go down there and point out the person. They don't see you and it takes just a minute and—"
"Not that, really," I objected. Even though that too had me a bit fearful. "I'm scared of him. Now that his wife…"
"You'll be fine. Our security is—"
"These aren't just teenage fans, JC. They—"
"You'll be fine," he repeated. "She's in jail, and he will be shortly after. You have nothing to worry about."
I nodded. But I couldn't help but think. . . "Every time I close my eyes I see that gun," I said softly. "I can't sleep. I can't think. Like I said with my dreams." I shook my head and sat up. "I'm sorry. I’m sure you didn't expect staying up to watch TV would lead to this."
"No, go ahead." JC patted my back. "I'd rather you explain than just tell me that you're fine."
"I am fine," I replied. "I'm just going over everything."
"Justin, you are not fine, okay?" JC answered. "If you were fine you wouldn't be up right now."
"I know. I'm crazy." I rolled my eyes.
JC gazed at me patiently. "No. You're not," he said gently. "But this is going to take a while to get over, all right? And everybody understands. Nobody's telling you to be cheerful all the time. These past few days have been more than most go through their whole life. But you're only eighteen, okay? Don't expect to be able to conquer it."
"So in other words, I'm allowed to be a pain in the ass?" I smirked. 
JC sighed and smiled. "You make every word I say mean nothing. No, that's not what I meant."
"I know," I replied. 
"You enjoy testing me, I know. But you understand what I'm saying?"
I nodded. 
"Chin up," JC continued. "Be strong. But relax. The worst is over." 
I nodded. "I hope so." 
~~~~~
~~~~~
I was the first on up the next morning. I'd gone back my own bed after JC had fallen asleep during some re-run of a black and white series. I was still tired when I woke up, but I couldn't go back to sleep either. I showered and sat down to eat in the kitchen. By the time had poured myself cereal and a glass of juice, I heard the shower running. Good. Someone else was up.
I glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. Six-fifty. I'd really become quite the early bird. Usually, it took all the guys and threats to get me out of bed this early. 
The phone rang and I paused. 
Ring.
Surely somebody else would answer it, right? 
Ring. 
Well, I was the only one up. Other than the person in the shower who probably wouldn't be quite able to get it.
Ring.
I got up and went to the phone. I picked it up mid-ring.
"Hello?" I nearly sighed.
"Hello, is there a Justin Timberlake there?" a male voice replied.
I wanted to ask 'who wants to know?' but I figured that it could possibly be viewed as rude. I mean, I didn't know who it was so they could take it the wrong way. I didn't think it was a fan, so that wasn't my concern. 
I cleared my throat. "Um . . . who should I tell him is calling?"
"Officer Davis," the voice replied. "He, uh, doesn't know me, but I'm going to meet with him today at the station for a suspect identification? Johnson I believe explained everything to him."
Right. That was today.
"Um, just a minute," I replied. 
"Sure." 
I put held the phone down and tapped my fingers against the counter nervously for a few seconds. I put the phone to my ear again.
"Um, he can't come—" I began.
Joey walked into the kitchen stretching. "Hey, Curls, who's on the phone?" he asked.
I glared at him and made a sharp gesture with my hand for him to be quiet. "He can't come to the phone right now," I said. I turned from Joey. 
"When would be a good time to call back?" Davis replied. "I realize it's early, but his friends seemed to indicate that it needed to be earlier in the day?"
"Uh, yeah . . ." I paused. It probably would be better. "He'll get back to you as soon as he can. Do you have a number he could reach you at?"
"All right, that's fine," Davis answered. "Ready?"
"Sure," I replied.
"555," he started.
"555," I repeated.
"0128," he finished.
"0128," I answered. "OK. Thank you."
"Thank you," Davis said. "I'll expect to hear back shortly."
I hung up and turned to Joey, who had his arms crossed. 
"Who for?" he asked. 
"Uh, me."
He looked at me expectantly, tight-lipped.
"That's not what you think, Joey," I began to explain.
"Who was it, Justin?" Joey asked.
I sat back down at the table. "Damn telemarketers," I answered. I took a drink of juice. "They always find you."
"Telemarketers my ass, Justin," Joey said, a little stiffly. "Who was it?"
I rested my head in my hands. "You got me. Why do you always wake up early now anyway?"
"Sorry, I didn't hear you. Who was it?"
"Police officer," I mumbled.
He took a step closer. "Excuse me?" 
I looked up at him. "Police officer! Happy?" 
Joey gave a disappointed sigh. "Oh, Justin, Justin, Justin." He walked over and sat down across from me at the table. "You said you weren't here? Why?"
"Oh, Joey, Joey, Joey . . ." I replied.
"What am I going to do with you?" he persisted.
"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I'm going to call back. It was just a little early."
"I'm just curious," he replied. "I mean, it's the police. I would think you're ready just go and get it over with."
"Are you sure it's the police?" I challenged. "How do you know? Why do they keep changing who I talk to?"
"Okay, look." Joey rested his hands palm down on the table and gazed at me. "Justin, you've got a little something called paranoia. Chill up, grow a backbone, and just get it over with."
"I'm not paranoid. I'm just cautious."
"555-0128," Joey said. "You want to call or should I?"
I looked up. "Is your name Justin? Besides, what's the area code here?"
"Look on the phone in our room. And I could very easily be 'Justin' for five minutes. Then we just bring you later. No big deal."
"No big deal," I mimicked. "Don't patronize me, Joey."
"I'm not. Just please call back?"
"I will," I assured him. "Cross my heart. Just let me eat first. Jesus." 
"Hey," JC greeted, walking into the kitchen tiredly. "Who was on the phone?"
~~~~~
~~~~~
I sat on my hotel bed alone, fingering the phone in my hand. I didn't want to call, but Joey had in his infuriatingly belittling way told me not to come out until I had, so I figured I should. That way I could just go in, identify her, move on with my life. 
I dialed. 
One ring. 
Hm, there was always the possibility that nobody would pick. Then it wouldn't be my fault. After all, I had called.
I had to identify her though. I didn't know why my gut wanted to put this off.
Two rings. 
A female voice answered and asked how she could help me.
"Can I talk to . . . Officer Davis please?" I asked. My fingers gripped the plastic of the phone tightly. I don't know why this, of all things, scared me.
"One minute, please. I'll transfer you to his office."
I waited a few minutes listening to classical music and then it stopped.
Finally he greeted the call.
"Hi, this is Justin," I replied. I hoped he wouldn't recognize my voice. "My, uh, friend told me you called?"
"Yeah, hi, Justin." Friendly enough. "You realize that today you have to come down to identify somebody, right?"
"Yes. Uh, when would be the best time to do that?"
"As soon as possible would be great. Just let us know so we can be ready. We understand your schedule may be hard, but all we need is you. You'll be out of here quick. You just need to sign a few things and you'll be out."
I nodded and then realized he couldn't see me. "Okay. Where should I go when I get there?"
"Just ask for me."
"All right. Thanks. I'll try to be there within the hour." 
"Sounds good. We'll see you then. Bye."
I hung up and sighed. That wasn't too bad. I wiped my hands on my jeans. They were sweaty. I don't know why I'd gotten so nervous.
~~~~~
~~~~~
JC went with me.
I stood in front of a big window gazing in at a white wall that had lines to indicate height. It was dark where I was. JC and two officers stood behind me, one being Davis. I didn't pay any attention to them. 
There was a click and the door opened inside the bright room. Guards entered first and I noticed their guns in holsters. Next marched in six women in handcuffs. They all matched the description I would have given to describe the woman. 
A voice boomed inside but I could hear it. "All suspects line up against wall." I watched as they did so. "Face front."
Immediately, I saw her. Her blonde hair was a mess and she was in the standard prisoner suit, but it was still her. I didn't even bother looking at the others. The hate in her eyes was enough. She was staring right at me. 
I turned in alarm to Davis. "Can she see me?" I demanded.
He shook his head. "Nope. One way mirror."
I nodded, unconvinced. How then could she be looking right at me? 
"Do you know which one she is?" Davis asked.
The voice inside boomed. "Suspects turn to the left."
"Yeah," I replied.
"Number?" he asked. 
"Five," I answered. I stared at her. 
The voice boomed again inside the room but I paid no attention. 
"Alright. Thank you," Davis said.
A guard approached her and she left with him out another door. Her eyes never strayed from mine. I sighed and pressed my forehead against the window. 
I felt a hand on my back. JC. "That's it," he said. "You're done."
I turned. "Am I going to have to appear in court or anything?"
Davis sighed. "Well, most likely not, considering your schedule. We can take written statements. Um, the woman you chose, her name is—"
"No!" I interrupted. "Don't."
"What?" He frowned.
"I don't want to know her name," I replied.
"Oh, okay." Davis nodded. "Well, anyway, she's given us a few leads. I think we may have the other suspect soon, as well."
"Really?" I was surprised. "I wouldn't think she'd give you anything."
"I think she knows that it's over," he answered. "Well, thank you, Justin. I'm sorry for everything that you had to go through, and I assure you that these people will pay for it in full. You've been a big help. Now you'll just have a few things to sign and we'll be done."
I nodded and watched him leave. 
"How come you didn't want to know her name?" JC asked as we walked out the door. 
I looked at him for a moment and then shrugged. "Because . . . well, without a name, she's not really a person to me. She's easier to forget."
~~~~~
~~~~~
So this was it. We were finally on the bus to another city, thank God. I had waited for this day. It was late and I was tired. But I was happy for once. It was finally over. I was sleeping in the lounge area. Or at least, half sleeping. My head rested against the wall and my eyes were closed, but I was still awake. Not for long though. 
The guys were in here too. We'd been watching some movie. I forget which one. I had almost fallen asleep, lulled by the boring conversation and the music from the movie, when I heard my name.
"Yeah, we should really talk about Justin," I heard Joey say.
I perked up slightly, but still pretended to be asleep.
"In terms of what? Everything?" Lance asked.
"I mean, he'll be fine eventually," Chris said. "It's just, with the tour and everything, it's no wonder he's been really stressed out. I'd be going crazy myself."
"He went through a lot . . ." Lance said. "Physically and emotionally. Of course it'll affect him . . . I don't know." 
"He should be okay . . ." Chris started. "He's stronger than we give him credit for." 
"I know," JC replied. "It's still sometimes worrisome though. I talked to him last night. I mean he gets upset, but it's understandable. First, he started on with everything that we'd been telling him . . . You know, the 'you can't change anything now anyway' stuff and he said he was glad he'd done it all that way because he'd gotten to meet Ashley."
"Ashley . . ." Joey sighed. "The kid was amazing with that little girl, let me tell you. Before I went in to see them, I was talking to one of the nurses and they were saying how Ashley changed completely the few times she saw Justin. Like, she only ate when he was there, she never made the effort to talk to anyone but him . . ." 
"I feel so bad that I never got to actually meet her . . ." JC started. "I saw her, but she was sleeping. I think Justin was disappointed that I hadn't met her."
"He's not going to get to go to her funeral, you know," Lance said softly. "I don't know whether he wanted to, but I expect he would've . . ."
"I think he knows that," Joey replied. "Well, you said that first he was like that, JC, then what?"
JC paused. "Well, then he started telling me how he kept seeing it as his fault."
I continued to 'sleep' as their conversation flirted with concern and then danced right into full on assumptions. About how all of this might affect me. My paranoia, my lack of sleep, my mindset…
After a while it became a bit tiresome. I thought I'd been pretty good about everything considering the circumstances. Nothing they said was particularly hurtful, but had I been 'awake' I certainly would have objected. After a while, their 'concern' was downright unjustified and I finally waited for the moment to jump in.
JC was saying something about nightmares and Joey jumped in with a sarcastic,
"Well, he's sleeping right now," and a laugh.
"Yeah, good one, Joey," I spoke up. "I'm sleeping right now." I wasn't able to refrain from answering any more. 
"Justin . . ." JC started. "Did you just wake up?"
"No, go on," I replied sarcastically, sitting up straight and rubbing my eyes. "Talk about me. I don't mind." 
"So you were listening," Chris replied. "That was sneaky of you."
"Oh well." I shrugged. "Too late. Damage is done"
"What damage? Don't be like that. You know why we're talking about you, don’t you?" Lance objected. 
"He knows," JC assured. 
"JC, you're not one to talk. Every time I tell you something, you turn around and tell the whole world," I accused. "You're like my mother!" 
"Well, God forbid I'm worried about you, Justin, right?" he retorted.
I softened. He was right. I hadn't been angry and there was no need to get either myself or them agitated now. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," JC replied. "Now, let's all talk then, huh?"
"Guys, really, I'm going to be fine," I said. "I'm fine now, I'll be fine later. Fine, okay? As soon as this is all completely over, then the tour and everything will be normal."
"You're never normal," Joey challenged. 
"Funny."
"But seriously, Justin," Chris persisted. "At what point do you call everything over? I don't think there's ever a distinct end."
"Well, when has anything ever been black or white?" I replied. "You know what I mean."
"And you know what I mean. Ten years from now you can still be thinking about it. Is that completely over?"
"Ten years from now you'll almost be forty!" I replied.
."Justin, if you don't take it seriously, why should we?"
"Don't then," I replied. "One person behind bars, one halfway there. It's done. No speculations necessary. No 'let's analyze Justin behind his back'. Period. It's over. Finished. Concluded. Ended. Nothing to worry about." 
"Justin," JC started. "We just want you to talk about it at some point. Think about how you were talking last night."
I stared at him and hesitated. "What do you mean? I talked about it with you. You are enough."
He looked at me. "You have to decide that."
I wasn't sure what he meant. "Look, Jayce, I'm all good. Don't know about you. If you want to talk to somebody about it, then—"
JC worked his jaw. "You're not going to do a one-eighty change in attitude overnight, okay? We all know that. So quit playing your little game and meet us back down here in reality, and just talk about this seriously." 
"I'm not playing a game," I replied dryly. "I know how I feel."
"And we want to know how you feel," JC replied. "How's your head?"
"Better?" I replied. I shrugged. "Still a bump."
"Then you're not fine."
"JC…"
"His point is," Joey continued, "that not one of us is fine after all this. So you're obviously not either. And I know it lies deeper than just a couple bruises. Am I right?"
I shook my head. "It's not a matter of being completely over, okay, we've justified that. But it also doesn't justify a four on one interrogation about nothing either."
JC sighed. "You're so difficult. Always the same." 
"Then what, JC?" I replied. "What do you want to hear? Okay, I'm not fine. I'm completely wrecked. I'm going to break down any second. Oh, God, I don't think I'll ever get through this! Is that what you want to hear?"
"Only if it's true," he replied. 
"I already told you the truth, but you don't seem to want to hear any of it," I answered. "I am fine. I don't know what there has to be any subtle meanings to what I say."
"Why—" Lance started.
I interrupted him. "Why can't we just forget it?" I asked. "I mean, what do you expect when you keep asking me? What kind of response can I possibly have each time you ask again? I'm not sure what you're looking for."
"We just want to make sure no one ignores it." JC shrugged.
"For God's sake, JC, how can it possibly be ignored when it's brought up all the time?" I answered.
"Well, let's forget about it for now," Chris suggested. "Enough is enough. And when the time comes, we can talk about it if needed."
"Good." I crossed my arms. "It's about time."
Chris shrugged and reached for the television controller. He turned the volume up in I guess what was a sign of accordance.
I was about to just lean back and sigh when JC caught my wrist and pulled me up. 
"I want to talk to you," he said. I made a face but didn't struggle. 
I felt like a little kid in trouble, even though I knew I wasn't and that he just probably wanted to make himself feel better by getting more closure to the conversation. It didn't stop the feeling of anxiety that crept into my stomach though.
We sat at the table and he looked at me patiently.
"My stubbornness is your own fault," I began. "What I talked to you about was just me talking to you."
"What's the matter with you?" he demanded. 
"What's this about?"
"You know, Justin. 
"I don't know what you want me to talk about, JC."
"Justin, they are worried about you." He paused. "I am worried about you."
"Why don't you answer what I said about talking to you last night?"
"Don't act like a child, Justin."
"Don’t treat me like one, JC."
"I’m not. I just want you to feel like you can open up. Keeping all this inside is going to wear you out. And the tour wears you out enough already."
"Why can't you answer my comments but you expect me to answer yours?"
"What's the problem, then?" JC asked. "I didn't break any confidentiality, so I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm just saying, I go to you for a reason, and I don't want to talk necessarily in a group of five," I said quietly.
"They know you just as well, Justin, they—"
"No." I shook my head. "It's different." I stared at the table. There was a large coffee stain on it. I bet it had been there for at least a week. I couldn't remember the last time a sponge had touched the thing. 
"I know, Justin."
"You don't get it." My eyes moved to crumbs. "If I wanted to talk to a group, I'd go ahead and talk about it on stage, JC."
"Don't be dramatic."
"I do talk about it, I don't know what you want me to say. I talked to you last night. I don't need to talk to the whole group about it…"
"I know, Justin. But it's not like I told them anything, really. Does it embarrass you?"
"Not embarrass. I just…"
"It's uncomfortable."
"I don't like being on the spot like that. Even when it's so obvious it doesn't have to be dragged out like that."
He nodded. 
I knew he understood. But I still felt on the spot. Tears of frustration welled up and I tried to fight them. "Like, I trust you with secrets."
"Justin, this isn't a secret."
"Just saying."
"Okay. But there's no need to put on a charade for things just because you don't want to talk about it. You don’t need to lie about it."
I rubbed my eyes. "I'm not lying."
"Okay."
"Every time you all talk to me now, it doesn't have to just be about this," I persisted. 
"Okay."
"Stop being so agreeable," I objected. I looked up at him squarely. "Stop."
"Don’t cry," he said.
"I'm not." I rubbed my eyes again. I slid out of my chair. "I'm done. I'm taking a nap."
"Justin…" he objected. 
I started towards the bunks. I felt slightly overwhelmed and just wanted to disappear for a little while. I could at least due that when I pulled the curtains of my bunk closed and pulled blankets around. 
When I surrounded myself in that darkness, I let a few wayward tears slip before pulling myself together and taking a deep breath.
JC pulled open the curtains. "Don't go to sleep angry," he said.
"Hey, bus rule," I objected. "No warning, no knocking, no pulling open—"
He reached in a covered my mouth with his hand, smiling. He pushed me over and slid in to sit up beside me. "Oh, shut up."
"I'm not angry."
"You're a little bit."
"Don't tell me what I am or I'll tell you what you are."
"What am I?"
"Oh, you do not want me to start," I answered. "JC, I’m just going to take a nap. We're done."
"What am I?"
"Overbearing, for one," I answered. "Go join your gossip crew and let me sleep. Feel free to report on your updates from the conversation we just had."
He elbowed me. "Not nice."
"Feel free to make it a more colorful conversation too. I knew I should have thrown a few 'fucks' around."
He laughed. "Oh, Justin."
I sighed. "Look, I'm fine. I'd really just like to sleep now."
"Alright, you little actor," he answered. "I'll leave you be."
"Wake me if we stop?"
"Sure." He started to slide out. 
I sighed as he left and stretched out. Alone again. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Hey, everybody wake up!"
I groaned and turned over at Chris's voice. Didn't I just fall asleep? What was the deal…
"Wake up why?" I heard Joey demand.
"We're here!" Chris replied.
I crawled out of my bunk tiredly. "We're where?"
"Rest stop," Chris answered.
I rubbed my eyes and looked toward a window. It was dark out. "What time is it?"
"Like eleven or something." Chris shrugged. "The important thing is that my feet can touch land again. And that I can use a toilet that isn't on wheels."
I rolled my eyes. "Chris…"
It was cool outside, and the parking lot was just half full. 
"This isn't a rest stop," I objected when I looked in front of us. "It's a gas station."
"The bus needed gas." Chris shrugged.
Joey was walking and stretching his arms. "Well, I'm starving. I'm going find something to eat." 
"Um, we're at a gas station, Joe," JC remarked. "You're not gonna find much."
Joey shrugged. "Yeah, well . . . I can try, can't I? Sure it won't be too nutritious, but at least I won't be hungry anymore. Who wants beer?"
Joey was all smiles when he saw that a restaurant was attached the back of the gas station that we hadn't noticed before. "Ha! Who said that I wouldn't find anything?"
Lance eyed the place warily. "I'm still not sure you really found anything. I can't even see a sign…"
Joey laughed and pulled Lance into a headlock. "Oh, you've eaten in worse, I assure you.  So, who's hungry enough to actually get some real dinner?" he asked.
I yawned, breathing in the cold night air as I followed the guys into the building. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I could eat.
~~~~~
~~~~~
The 'restaurant' turned out to be Roy Rogers. A classic interstate found rest stop fast food joint. Whooptie do. So we got some to go and got back on the bus because James wanted to keep going on the road. 
I chewed some french fries at the booth in the bus watching the other guys silently eating as well. It took a while for me to even eat the fry. It was kind of rubbery. I wondered if they made anything fresh this time of night.
"Don't forget your burger," JC reminded, pushing a bag across the table to me.
I raised my eyebrows. "How could I possibly?"
He shook his head and turned back to his own food, I'm sure equally as appetized. 
We ate silently, and then I headed back to bed.
~~~~~
~~~~~ 
I later awoke to the dark and silence. I shivered in my bunk, sitting up slowly so I wouldn't bang my head. I blinked and strained to see or hear anything so I knew I wasn't alone. I could very softly hear someone breathing. It was odd not to hear a radio or TV or at least a voice though. It couldn't be that late.
I rubbed my hands over my face and sighed. Another nightmare. I couldn't remember the details but I knew the subject. 
My body was damp with sweat and I pushed off the blankets that I was tangled in. So much for a good night's sleep. That concept seemed foreign to me lately. I just needed to get back into routine. After all, things were over. Shouldn't everything be back to normal by now? I had nothing more to fear.
Except the other two men. How did I know whether they'd been caught yet?? That remained in the back of my mind and prodded at my sanity every time I thought I was safe.
I got up and out of my bunk and stretched. I listened to the bus's motor and felt us turning for a moment. Through dim lighting, I could see the other bunks. I located Lance's.
I hesitated before waking him. Was I bothering him? Did he care?
I didn't know, but I really needed someone to talk to nonetheless, and he just had been there from the beginning. I think I'd outdone JC before anyway.
I pulled back the curtain. He was sleeping peacefully on his side.
"Lance," I whispered, my voice sounding loud in my ears. I tugged at his shoulder. 
He groaned and pushed my hand away. Was he awake?
"Lance . . ." I persisted, pushing him harder.
His crystalline eyes opened tired and he gazed at me in annoyance. He sat up, body heavy with fatigue.
"This'd better be good, Curly," he said bitterly, voice deeper then usual. 
"It's not," I admitted. "I just need to talk." I backed away a little. "Ugh . . . This wasn't a good idea. I'm sorry. I'll just—"
"Shut up." He shook his head. "Want me to get up?"
I shrugged. "Unless you'd rather go back to bed."
"With the guilt of that?" he replied sarcastically. He pushed himself out of bed and gestured me towards the lounge. I followed,and we sat.
He stared at me expectantly and I sighed after a moment of silence. 
"I know," I started. "You wanted to talk, then talk. That's what you're about to say, right?" I paused as he nodded with a half smile. "Well, I want to talk but I don't know where to start. I couldn't sleep."
"Start with why," he provided.
"I don't know why!" I exclaimed softly. "That's why I'm here. I want to know why I can't move past things."
"What happened to 'I'm fine'?"
"I am fine. It's just, I need to sleep without thinking about it."
"Well, something like this you're not going to move past right away, Justin," he answered quietly, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. 
"But I have! I mean—" I paused, thinking.
"You just said you can't."
"I know, mentally I can't, but . . ." I faded off. What was I trying to say?
"You're telling yourself you have, but deep down you can't."
"Yeah, I think." I nodded. 
"We feel the same way. It's frustrating."
"Like you're frustrated with me, frustrated, or just in general?"
"In terms of being woken up right now, a little of both," he answered. 
I sighed and ran a hand through my unruly curls. "Sorry."
"Just like it's frustrating when you don't understand why we'd want to talk about it with you or why we'd be concerned."
"I know, but—"
"And then if we didn't say anything, I bet you'd be saying that you think we don't care and that we're ignoring you and that'll raise a whole new issue for us to be arguing about."
"That would be different. I wouldn't."
"Why did you wake me up?"
"Because. You've been there since the beginning of this. You just seemed like best logical answer."
"Because you could have just come and watched TV and fallen back to sleep. But you obviously want to talk about it."
I made a face. "I do in a way."
We argued for a little while about it. About what the consequences of things would be. We never got very far to any actual conclusions, but it felt good in a way just to hear his perspective.
Then suddenly there was a noise and we looked up to find Chris in the shadows in front of us.
My heart jumped. 
"You scared me . . ." I accused angrily. 
"Me too," Lance replied.
"Well," Chris started, "I thought that the voices in my head were coming back and then I realized it was just you two losers."
"Gee, thanks . . ." I made a face.
Before Lance or I could object, Chris was already squeezing between us. I sighed and moved over.
"Comfy?" Lance asked sarcastically.
Chris laughed. "So, guys, what are you doing up like this at three am? JC will wring your necks if—"
"We don't even have a concert tomorrow," I replied. "God forbid I'm tired walking into a hotel."
"It's today now, not tomorrow. I meant if you woke him up."
"We're talking," Lance answered. 
"What does it look like we're doing?" I asked.
"Waking me up," Chris replied. "What's on TV?"
Lance groaned. "I’m going to bed." He got up and I didn't object. I'm sure he was exhausted, and I wasn't going to keep him up any longer.
"Get me the controller," Chris requested.
Lance tossed it at him, and I flinched involuntarily as it whizzed by my head. Chris flipped on the TV and then tapped my leg with the controller.
"How's it going?"
"Fine," I answered.
"You tired?"
"Little bit."
"Yeah." He surfed channels for a couple minutes, and then finally he spoke again. "You woke up Lance?" 
"Yeah," I admitted.
He nodded. 
"What, no comments?" I asked.
"Not really. You already heard my complaint that you woke me up, and although I'm yet to hear your apology I wasn’t going to hold my breath."
I yawned. "Yeah, it's not coming anytime soon."
"Having trouble sleeping?
I shrugged. "I was sleeping fine, but then I just woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Just felt like talking."
"Want to talk now?"
I glanced over at him. "Not really, thanks."
"I'm not very good to talk to?"
"No, it's not that," I answered. "I just kind of lost my will to discuss anything. I'm pretty tired, and I should probably just sleep soon."
"And not get involved in a long, life-changing conversation?"
"Chris, a conversation with you is not going to be life-changing," I answered, rolling my eyes.
"Oh yeah?"
I just gave him a look.
"I can think of one."
I raised my eyebrows. 
"Got you in this group," he persisted. 
"We're talking current. Future, Chris. You've lost your touch with age."
He elbowed me. "Whatever."
"Everyone seems to want to corner me for this one-on-one conversations," I began. "But to be honest—"
"Yeah, let's be honest. I didn't corner you. Lance didn't corner you. You woke him up, then you both woke me up."
I shrugged.
"And besides, I don't want to talk to you," he answered. "Usually turns into a mess. Lately at least. I'm hoping you're back to your fun self after all of this."
"Why are you watching infomercials, Chris?"
He looked up and frowned at the hair removal product that was being tried on the home shopping network. Shaking his head, he flipped to another channel and settled for the cartoon on it. "Hair removal. Why I never."
"Waxing your back must get tiring, Chris."
He gave me a look and laughed. "Right. Because I have that problem."
"I hear you cry about it at night. How you wonder if your father was a wooly mammoth." I ducked my head as he hit me lightly.
"Leave my family alone, poser," he replied.  
I yawned again and wondered what time it was. "Where are we landing tomorrow?"
"Landing?" he laughed.
"Or stopping. Or staying. Whatever."
Chris shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. I'm completely messed up with our schedule at this point. I heard Jim say something about having a few hundred miles left."
"That doesn't seem bad."
"No, not really."
I paused. "Are we far from the last place? Or will we be?"
"I don't know, kiddo. Not too close. But like I said, I haven't been very good about keeping up with the schedule."
He began to channel surf again.
"Isn't it funny," I started, "that we have no clue where we're going, but I bet that those killers do?"
"It's not like it's a locked up secret, Justin. About a million teenagers know it just from watching MTV too," Chris answered. 
I nodded. "I know. But it's still a little ironic."
"Scary?"
"Yeah."
"It'll work out, buddy."
I shrugged and allowed myself another yawn. I stretched my arms over my head.
"Go to bed, Justin," Chris said. 
"Are you going to?"
"Once I convince myself nothing worthwhile is on TV, then yeah."
"Want to watch a movie?"
"No, Justin, it's too late."
"But we're up."
"For a few minutes, kiddo."
"Alright, I'll go to bed when you go to bed."
"You're going to be exhausted tomorrow, you know that? I already see bags under your eyes. You want makeup to spend all their time on you?"
"You're up too."
"I think I've been sleeping better than you. And besides, I don't get cranky like you do."
"Yes you do."
He flipped through a few more channels and then turned off the TV and tossed the controller aside. He turned and looked at me. "What do we think?"
"I think sleep."
"Good choice." He patted my leg. "Let's go."
~~~~~
~~~~~
When I awoke the next morning, we had arrived at the hotel. We were to be in three rooms, two doubled and one alone. I knew I wouldn't have a room to myself; I didn't want it. In fact, I was upset as it was that we all were in three rooms. I liked how at the old hotel we were all in one. It was getting rare that we shared rooms like that, when our tours got bigger, but at times I almost missed it, and felt some sort of comfort having us all together.
"Okay, guys, we need to decide rooming," JC said, keys dangling from his hands. "Who got the single last time?"
I wanted to be with JC or Lance. That way I could talk to one of them. But when I met Lance's eye, I knew that he wasn't going to let that happen. I panicked.
"Can I—" I started.
"How about me and Joe, Chris and Curly, and JC alone?" Lance suggested, interrupting. "And we can alternate if we want?"
"Sounds good to me," JC shrugged. "I won't say no to sleeping in my own room."
"What were you going to say, Just?" Joey asked.
"Nothing." I shook my head. "Absolutely nothing."
~~~~~ 
~~~~~
"Did you do that on purpose?" I asked, overtired and a little cranky. Chris was right about the effects of less sleep.
Lance pushed a rolling suitcase into the corner. "Do what?"
"You know what I’m talking about," I answered, frustrated at his lack of response. I was more saddened than angry. "Why, Lance?" 
"What, put you with Chris? That was random. Why are you getting so upset about it?"
"I'm not upset. I was just hoping to be able to have you to talk to, and you knew that and you purposefully—"
"You didn't say anything back there."
"I would've."
"But you didn't."
I let out a deep breath. "Why don't you want to talk to me?"
"We're talking right now. You can talk to me whenever."
"But when we room—" 
"Justin, you know why," he answered, standing with his arms crossed. He viewed me impatiently. 
"No, I don't!" I cried. I collapsed on his bed. "Am I a bad friend? I know I put a lot on you in the beginning, but now that everyone knows, I didn't think you minded just talking about it."
"I don't," he assured. "It's just that . . . Well, talking doesn't always get us somewhere, and honestly talking in the middle of the night is not ideal either. I feel like you just come at inopportune times and then just change your mind."
"I don't need to talk at midnight. Do you mean last night? I'm sorry, Lance, but it was this dream and—"
"And?" He waited but I didn't say anything. "Besides, you can talk to anyone, Justin. I'm sure Chris would be just as helpful. And you always go to JC. Just let things go back to normal. You never needed to room with me before." 
"Everything is normal," I answered. "That's not my point. Maybe it's better just not to talk to any of you then. You know how when you tell someone something and they just use it against you later? It will just hurt me later."
"Okay, now you're being ridiculous. I never turned my back on you. What are you trying to punish yourself for? You can't keep it all inside anyway."
I got up. "Watch me."
He blocked the door and stood deadpan. "Don't do this, Justin."
"Lance, it's over, I'm going," I said. 
"No, I don't want this to be dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic," I objected.
"Justin, with you it's always a show. Just stop. I'm really tired, and I'm not in the mood."
"In the mood?"
"For you stalking out, being mad at me, and then having to settle this later. Let's just settle it now and be done with it. I'm tired."
He did look tired. But I was tired to. And offended. I felt like he just didn't want to be around me, and I knew that was an exaggeration, but it was partially true. "I’m sorry, Lance," I forced myself to say. "I don't mean to be dramatic. Sometimes I want to talk, but I don't know what to say to make things better. Or at least to make myself feel better."
"Well you can't magically make yourself feel better."
"I know that."
"I don't think you do."
"I do. I have problems that not you or anybody else can fix, not even myself," I answered. "I get that. I get that completely. Because nothing can make me feel better. Never before have I met somebody and just had them die. See them die. Just like that. And then feel responsible for—"
"Justin, you're not responsible—" Lance began, shaking his head.
"I know. And I can tell myself that, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I always lie to myself but it doesn't make me feel any better."
Lance just stood there, not sure what to say. 
"What would you do?" I persisted. "I mean, it feels almost like everyone's criticizing me, surrounding me, but honestly what would they do any differently? What would you do?"
"I don't know." Lance didn't change his expression. "I mean, truthfully, Justin. I honestly haven't the slightest idea what I'd do."
"My point exactly. So it's settled. Now can you move?"
"No."
I closed my eyes. "Lance, I’m sorry I ever started this with you. I want to get back to my room now, please."
"I said no. Not until we settle this."
I turned around and walked back into the room. "What am I doing wrong?" I asked aloud. "What the hell am I doing that's causing this? The fact that I'm alive seems to pull me in deeper with everything!"
"Dramatic again," he muttered.
I spun around. "I'm not being dramatic!"
"Justin . . ."
"I'm not!"
"Shush, Justin."
I walked toward the window in the room and stared out at the blue sky. "I just feel like no matter how far away we are, it's unfinished business. I should feel happy that the woman is behind bars locked up. But I don't. I don't know why. It still feels unsettled."
"But that's normal," Lance sighed.
"Nothing's ever normal. Ya'll tell me never compare to normal because nothing is normal. So this certainly won't be. I just… I mean, am I going to still feel this guilty ten years down the line? Will I still be thinking about it constantly? I mean now the only time I'm not thinking about it constantly is during a show. But sometimes between songs even I'll catch a look at someone that looks like her or reminds me of her, and it's back all over again."
Lance was quiet. He probably didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to say. But if he wouldn't let me go until it was 'settled', I would try to settle it. Let's just blurt out what we can and try to finish this once and for all.
"I can't even really sympathize," Lance broke the silence. "You know? I can try to relate, but I wasn't there."
I nodded. "I know. It's me."
"Does talking make you feel better?"
I let out a deep breath. "I don't know. I mean… It's just, like, anxiety, you know? Like it makes me sick sometimes thinking about it, and worrying, and looking back. And even though you can't change anything, you can't help just being mad at yourself you know? The problem is me."
"You have enough to worry about without blaming yourself for everything, Justin."
"Yeah, I know." I rolled my eyes. "And I'm sure I'm fucking up the tour too with everyone's minds on security and safety and all that."
"I know, but it's almost over."
"If I could've just stayed put, you know? I mean, that morning I woke up early. I've been told a hundred million times not to just go off. But sometimes I just feel like I need some space and to feel a little free. And that was so selfish."
"Justin, how did you cause it though?"
"I know, we've been through this." I shook my head. "Would've happened anyway. Would've still been in that shop. Still would've robbed the shop. I at least can give a statement, identify people, help them solve it."
"Exactly."
"Yeah, thinking that doesn't help. I mean, I ran out. And I waited so long to say a damn thing, you know? That's what you would've done differently. You would have told someone sooner. In the first twenty-four hours, that's so important to solving a crime."
"Who knows if I would've," Lance answered. "I can't say what I'd do differently."
"I bet you would've," I answered softly. "You would've." I rubbed my eyes tiredly. "I know this doesn't help. Talking about it almost makes me feel worse about it. Because I go in circles. What does it even matter anyway?"
"Don't talk like that," he replied. "Talking helps in a way. And it all does matter." 
"Whatever, Lance."
"Justin . . ." Lance started as if a question would follow and then he faded for a moment. "I don't want this to come out the wrong way, but . . ."
"What?" My stomach turned a little bit, not knowing what he was going to say.
"Why don't you just talk to somebody about it?" he suggest softly. "I mean, maybe that would be the best way for you to—"
"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "I'm talking to you right now. You mean someone on the outside?" I shook my head. "No. How would that help?"
"You just worry me sometimes, Justin. I mean, you just drag yourself so down. Sometimes its to some distant place, and I don't know how to get to you or convince you not to think that way."
"Lance—"
"We keep having the same conversation, Justin. Over and over. Isn't it tiring?"
"This is a new conversation," I replied wryly.
"Not a new thought, though," Lance answered, coming closer.
"No?"
"It's just a suggestion, if you think it might make you feel better; no one would think anything of it. We don't want you to do anything drastic or just continue to worry about it."
"Do what drastic?"
He shrugged.
I looked out the window again. A cloud covered the sun. "I wouldn't do anything stupid," I said. "And I don't think that talking to anybody else is going to make anything better either. It's me, and I have to handle it."
"You don't have to just handle it."
"You know what I mean." I turned toward him again. "So you don't want to room with me because you're tired of this same old conversation?"
He smiled crookedly. "Well, it's not really a fun conversation."
"You're sick of me."
He laughed. "Yes."
"Oh, Lance."
There was a sharp knock, and we both looked up at Joey, peering through the ajar door from the hallway, his hair wet and slicked back. He must have taken a quick shower.
"Hey . . ." he started. "What are you two up to?"
"Plotting," I replied dryly.
Joey laughed. "Yeah, I hope not."
"You never know," Lance replied. 
"So what were you guys really talking about?" Joey persisted, entering the room. 
"Nothing important." Lance shrugged. "Are we going somewhere? I need to brush my teeth." He walked over to the bathroom, leaving Joey and me.
Joey leaned in the doorway. "Hungry?"
"A little," I answered.
"Well, we were thinking about going out for lunch."
"Anything but fast food," I answered. 
"Yeah, we have kind of had a lot of that recently. I personally don't care. I'm hungry either way."
"I just want to get out," Lance said from the bathroom doorway, muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. "We've been trapped inside too long on the bus."
"Lance, you're spitting toothpaste, kid," Joey laughed. 
Lance gave him the finger and returned to the sink, wiping off his chin. 
"We do need some fresh air," Joey agreed. 
"I'll open a window," I answered. 
Joey laughed. "Right. That works. We need to get your pale ass some sun too. Look how pale you are."
"Yeah, this isn't Florida."
"You can say that again. There's a court out back, you want to play ball later?" he asked. "We can challenge Mike again in security."
I smirked, remembering the last time we played. "Yeah, maybe."
"I think we might have a shoot later though," he said. "Just to keep that in mind. I'm not sure what time it is." He frowned. "I think we have a couple hours."
I vaguely remembered someone talking about the photoshoot. I rubbed my hair self-consciously. That could be a challenge.
I was going to reply when Chris and JC popped their heads up behind Joey. I was now surrounded. I could hear the water running in the bathroom and figured Lance was almost done.
"So what are we doing?" JC asked, rubbing his hands together. "We going out to eat?"
"Let's go to . . ." Chris paused. "Well, what is there around here? I only saw a McDonald's." 
"No fast food," I insisted.
"Yeah." JC made a face. "I agree."
Lance sighed. "Maybe there's a mall or something that—"
"Mall?" JC interrupted. "Lance . . . think about it. A mall? Us? I already saw a few fans outside."
"We could disguise ourselves," Chris suggested. "It'll be fun."
"Oh, yes, loads of fun!" I added with fake enthusiasm. 
"That's an option, I guess," JC admitted. "Not favorable, but it could work . . ."
"Anywhere we go is going to be public," Joey answered. "Unless we order in."
"Out," Lance said. "I want to go out."
"Well, just pick a place," I objected. "Even just the movies or something and get something there? We can just call and get our own theatre like we did that time."
"Yeah, candy, popcorn, and soda?" JC replied with somewhat parental disapproval. "Nice dinner."
I sent him a look. "JC."
"I'm hungrier than that," he persisted.
"Mm, popcorn . . ." Joey sighed. "That sounds good."
"Why don't we do that?" I persisted. 
"I like that idea," Chris agreed. "But what's playing?"
"I'll call and see if I can figure out a theatre," Joey replied as he walked away. 
Speaking of calls…
"JC . . ." I started gently after a minute of silence. "Do you possibly have the phone number for the police station?" 
He frowned, eyes boring into mine. "Why?" Chris and Lance stared at me quizzically as well.
"I just wanted to call and see what's happening with the case, that's all," I answered, working my jaw tiredly. What did it matter why? "Didn't they give you their direct number?"
He nodded. "Yeah, but—"
"JC, I'll find it anyway."
"Well, okay, I guess. Yeah, I have it. It's in my room though. You want to call later?" he asked.
"I was thinking now," I replied.
"Right this second?" Lance asked. "We're about to go out the door."
In actuality, I didn't want to go out the door until I knew what I was up against. Maybe they had found the other guy. But maybe they were headed here. Who knew, unless I called. "But Joey's on the phone figuring out our plans, and—" I broke off pitifully. "Can we not waste the time arguing about it? I would be done already.  I shouldn't even have to ask for it. JC, can I have your key quick?"
He gave me an exasperated look. "Justin, can't you just wait until after we—"
"I can't, no." I shook my head and extended my hand to take the key. "Please? I'll be quick."
He slapped my palm lightly. "Are you serious? No, just wait. You don't even know where it is. I barely know where I put it."
My hand dropped to my side in defeat. This was ridiculous. "You're violating my rights, JC," I added. 
Chris laughed. "Is he really? Back that one up, will you?"
"Justin, I just don't feel like having you fumbling through my stuff, when I don't even know where to tell you to look, okay?" JC asked. "For God's sake, I mean, we're going out the door. Can't you wait?"
"You know, if it's that big a deal, fine." I shook my head. "No need to get all pissy about it. But it is frustrating."
"Look who's pissy," he answered back. "The number's not going anywhere. I have to find where I packed it."
"I know how you pack."
"Just wait, J," he insisted, "and first thing when we get back I'll look."
"Hey, guys, we can see—" Joey came in and faded out as he noticed our expressions. "Oh, no. Guys, what's wrong now?" 
I sighed quietly. 
"Nothing." JC shook his head. "What can we see?"
~~~~~ 
~~~~~ 
Once again, I survived another treacherous day with the guys. Alright, there's some exaggeration there, but only a little bit. It's really annoying to put up with them wanting to go everywhere and in Joey's case, eat everything, when you're exhausted and thinking that there's maybe an escaped convict lurking in the shadows. 
That one phone call could have relaxed me a little bit. I was sure the cops would have assured me that the case was proceeding as planned, no news to tell. No news was usually good news, but I'd rather hear them say no news. So the case remained on my mind throughout the day. 
But I survived nonetheless. No shooting, no panicking, and barely any arguments. In other words, I kept my mouth shut when the time called for it. Same difference. Whatever worked. 
As soon as we were in the hall going towards our rooms I went to JC. "Can I have the number now?" I looked at him. "Please?"
"Ooh, the magic word," he replied a little bitterly.
"What's wrong?" I frowned. "Is it that big a deal?"
"Nothing's wrong," he returned. "I just don't understand why this is so important. What are you expecting to hear?"
I sighed and crossed my arms. "Jace, could we please not get into this? I'm exhausted and I just want to make a phone call."
"Okay, okay." He opened the door to his room and let me in. "But you need to stop having a one track mind and start respecting the fact that there are other things to worry about."
"Other stuff to worry about?" I retorted. "I have enough to worry about."
"Well, at least stop being so damn sarcastic. It can't possibly make you feel that much better."
"That's not true," I objected as he started through some of his stuff on the counter.
"Fine, it's not true," he replied, not looking up. A second later he handed me a slip of paper with a number scribbled on it. "Here."
I just stared at him, holding the paper. "That easy to find?"
He smirked. "Oh, don't even."
"I'm not, I'm not."
"Right."
"Thanks, JC. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He pushed me towards the door. "Go make your phone call." He opened it.
Why did I suddenly feel hesitant?
"What's the matter now?" JC asked.
"Nothing," I answered. You need to make that phone call, I told myself. Stop standing there and go.
"You wanted to call, so call." 
"I do want to call."
"Things just seem easier when you're fighting for it, huh?" he replied with a slight smile. "Go ahead and do it, Jus. It'll hopefully make you feel better."
I agreed and we parted. I returned to my room, and then I stared at the slip of paper in my hand for a moment. The phone was by the bed so I went to sit down. I was almost tired enough just to go to sleep. After all, it wasn't as if I'd gotten a lot of sleep last night. But I wasn't going to use that as an excuse.
I reached over to the phone on the table beside me and punched in the numbers. I listened to the rings anxiously.
"Police Department. How can I help you?" came a lethargic female voice.
"Hi, is there a . . ." I paused. Dammit! What was that guy's name? Darren? Davy. Davis! "Is there an Officer Davis there?"
"Who shall I say is calling?" she asked.
"Justin Timberlake," I answered. 
"Sure. One minute please."
I rolled my eyes as elevator music filled the line. I hated being on hold. Especially if they played bad music. Well, this wasn't bad music, per se, it was just . . . I would have preferred silence.
The music clicked off.
"Hello?" came a familiar warm voice.
"Hi, Mr. Davis?" I asked uncertainly.
"Oh, hi, Justin. You can call me Paul. So what's up?"
"Well, I was just wondering how the case was doing," I replied. "I realized I had your number so I wanted to see if, you know, there was anything I needed to do or any news…"
"Oh, it's good to hear from you. The case… Well, it's . . . it's coming along . . ." 
Wait, there was something in his voice. His tone made me a bit nervous.
I cleared my throat and tapped my fingers on the mattress. "Mr.—I mean, Paul . . . Is there something I should know?"
"No, nothing that really concerns you . . . You've done all you can for the case, Justin. We really appreciate your cooperation."
"What is it? Did you catch the other two yet?" I persisted. 
"Uh . . . no, in fact we don't quite have anybody yet, Justin."
"Anybody?" I echoed. "What about that woman? You know, the one I identified? Where's she in this mess?"
"That's a good question . . ."
"Wait, what's that mean? You don't know?"
"It's not as easy to say that, but—"
"How can you not know?" I gripped the phone in my hands as I stood up and paced as far as the cord would let me. I glanced toward the door. Did I put the chain on it? Was it locked?
Calm down, Timberlake. You're taking this too far. Let him finish it.
"She's disappeared. There was nothing that could have prevented it. We had her on close watch and she…" Paul continued in a relaxed voice. How could he be relaxed? "We assume she's just in the cracks, you know?"
"How close could your watch have possibly been if she was able to escape?" I demanded as I ran a hand through my hair.
"Oh, no . . . I didn't say escape," Paul replied.
"But you don't know where she is," I reminded.
"Right."
"Okay, right now I'm confused . . ."
"We don't believe that she's escaped, Justin. We just believe that she's temporarily gone."
"Like misplaced?" I retorted. "What do you think she is? Some object that you lost and is just going to sit there until you relocate it?"
"Justin, I think you need to calm down . . ." Paul began. "Let me explain."
"I know. I'm trying to understand, but how can I calm down?" I replied. "Paul, look, I know you're doing everything that you can, but are you honestly able to say it's enough?"
"Of course not." He sighed. "It's never enough. But, if you're worried about your own safety, Justin, you're not their concern anymore. You're safe," he answered. "This woman is not after you. What more can you say to incriminate them that's a problem? Nothing, I don't think. So there's nothing that you have that they want to stop."
"An eye for an eye," I answered. "Don't you think that she wants to get me back for getting her arrested? I know this woman, Paul, and I don’t think she's just going to forget about me."
"No. Justin, what she wants right now is to be free. If she goes to you, do you know how easy she'd be to pinpoint and apprehend? She doesn't want that. She wants to disappear."
I contemplated his reasoning to myself for a moment. "I guess," I allowed.
"Justin, you have nothing to worry about. And like I said, I think she's still in our system."
I had just lost so much faith in their precinct. "What about the other two men?" I sighed. "Do you have anything on them?"
"Actually, the woman mentioned some names and I think we might be able to track them down before they get too far. Pretty soon this case will be put to rest, so don't even think about it. Just go on making a billion more girls happy."
I couldn't smile at that. In fact I almost found it offensive. But it was just my mood. I couldn't believe his reassurances. "Well, thank you," I replied. For ruining my day.
"Glad to help," he answered. "Bye now, Justin."
"Bye." I hung up and sighed. When would this end? It seemed like never. Whenever I thought I was in the clear, something else happened. Now the woman had disappeared and it "didn't concern me"? I sure as hell think that it concerns me!
I went into the bathroom and turned the on the cold faucet of the sink. I splashed water on my face and sighed, looking at my reflection in the mirror. 
I felt like shit. Was I safe or wasn't I? How was I supposed to know? I wished that JC had never given me the number. After all, I was such a brat to him and then he just gave me what I wanted anyway. I felt horrible. Why'd he have to give me the number? Otherwise, it would have been like before, with me thinking everything was finally over and having the guys telling me so, too. Was it better knowing the truth? I didn't know.
I dried my face on a towel tiredly and threw it to the floor. What was the use anymore?
There was a knock on the ajar bathroom door and I spun in surprise, taking a deep breath. I let it out slowly. It was Chris. That's right. This was his room too.
"You call yet?"
I nodded. "Yeah." I took one last glance in the mirror before walking out after Chris.
"What'd they say?" he asked.
"Not much," I replied. "Not much at all."
"Everything good?"
"I guess." How could I even start to explain?
Chris patted me on the back. "Finally over, huh?"
I tried to smile back. "Yeah."
~~~~~
~~~~~
I thought I could do it. I thought I could move past it. I thought that things were finally back to normal and that if I ignored the obvious, my thoughts would be true. Even Davis had told me not to worry, so I definitely could trust that advice.
I was wrong.
Because now I was face to face with it again. The glint of metal in the dark and the outline of the abhorrent body which I had the greatest possibly hate for. 
"How'd you get in here?" I asked as I slid out of bed to stand. 
The woman took a step forward and smiled. "Well, when you're not expected, it's very easy to slip in."
"You're supposed to be in jail," I insisted, backing up.
"Well, I'm not, am I?" She laughed. "The judicial system these days is a joke. I bet they haven't even noticed my absence."
"What do you want?" I asked, taking yet another step away.
"Where are you going?" she answered. "Out the window again, Justin? Well, it's a fairly bigger fall this time. And if you do jump and you make it, I've got somebody standing there that will be sure to welcome you. I know how you think."
"Why are you doing this?" I demanded desperately.
"An eye for an eye. A life for a life," she answered. "You ruined my life. Now I have to repay you."
The gun lifted and I watched her finger pulling the trigger. 
"No!" I yelled.
A shot rang out.
~~~~~
~~~~~
I shot up out of bed and heard a crash. I stood in the middle of the dark room panting. Another dream. Why was it so real? I was sick of this! I couldn't even sleep!
I felt something wet at my feet. I looked down to see the glass of water that I'd had on the table beside my bed, shattered and a mess. I must have knocked it off the table when I jumped up.  That was the crash. Angrily, I crouched down and started to pick up some of the bigger pieces. The carpet was soaked with water. I found myself shaking and before long my frustration caused a small shard to cut my palm.  
"Shit." I felt the burn of the cut and realized I was bleeding. Now I really hated the glass. I headed to the bathroom, the door knocking against the wall as I pushed it open. I flipped on the light and threw the glass into the garbage can. Turning on the water, I put my hand under and turned my head away in a flinch. 
It was then I noticed Chris in the doorway, looking tired and a little bit perplexed. 
"You woke me up," he said. 
"Oh." I frowned, turning back to the sink. Some blood was still running off my hand. 
"Oh?" he echoed. "Justin, what's up?" 
"Not much really . . ." I answered. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."
"It's not if. You did. But I don't care that you woke me up. I just want to know what all the noise was and why you're washing your hands at three o'clock in the morning." He moved in and put the toilet seat down to sit. He watched me warily. "You're bleeding. What'd you do?"
I decided to tell the truth. "I broke a glass," I answered. "It cut me. That was the crash."
"Oh. Well, what are you doing up?" he persisted. "Do you know what time it is?"
"You just told me."
"Well then?" 
I shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. I wasn't tired."
"Justin, I know you better then that and you know it. And that doesn't explain how you cut yourself." He stared at me. 
I turned off the water and looked at my hand. Blood trickled from the cut and pooled in my palm. My hands had just finished healing from those scrapes and now look what I do. It wasn't a big cut but it was sure bleeding a lot. I grabbed a towel and held it against my hand.
"Can I see that?" he asked as he was outstretching his hand. 
"What, the towel?" I asked.
"No, dumbass." 
"It's fine though."
He took my arm and removed the towel from my hand. I watched his expression as he winced. "Ouch."
"Yep." I took the towel back and pulled my hand away. "Your powers of observation overwhelm me, Chris." I turned but he caught my arm again.
"Justin . . . What happened?" he persisted. "Just broke a glass? Middle of the night?"
"I just knocked it over . . ." I broke off and gazed at the shower. "This isn't the best place to talk, you know, Chris . . . You're sitting on the toilet and you expect me to—"
"Don't be so dramatic. Would you rather we had a real sit down talk?"
"Nope."
"Then this will do. What woke you up?"
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.
"I don't think so." He shrugged.
"Then I can go," I replied, trying to pull away.
"This isn't an interrogation, Justin."
"Then I can go."
He laughed. "You can go, yes. But you could also just talk for a second."
"Chris, you're annoying," I complained. 
"Then I'm doing my job." He smirked.
I scowled back.
"Justin, will it come as a surprise when I tell you that I'm worried about you? You don't sleep well," Chris persisted. "Here." He pulled me over. "Take a seat."
"Where the hell should I sit? On the tub?" I stared at him.
"Yes."
I sighed, seeing no way out, and sat on the low wall of the bathtub. This was one lecture that was unsurpassed. 
"So you want to start or shall I?" he asked. "Got anything to say?"
"Nope." I rested my chin on my fist. My other hand gripped the towel.
"And you're going to tell me that I have no reason to worry, right?" he continued. "That we can just go to bed?"
I nodded and stood. "So you can easily conclude that this conversation is only a repeat and has no need to continue."
"Sit." He glared. "I was being sarcastic."
I sat.
"You owe this much to me," he reminded. "So what was the dream about?"
I frowned. "Huh?"
"Come on, Justin, don't act stupid to me. What's going on with you? Tell old Chris."
I rolled my eyes. "It's nothing."
"What was the dream about, Justin?"
"How do you know that there was a dream?" I retorted.
"Because I'm psychic," Chris answered.
"If you were really psychic, I wouldn't have to tell you the dream because you would be able to read my mind," I answered.
"Justin, humor me. It's in your eyes. I can tell. I don't know what the big deal is. People do have bad dreams. It's not just you. And it usually helps to talk about them. I know from experience. So just start from the beginning."
"Okay, fine." I sighed. "Well, take a wild guess at what it was about."
"Justin, just tell me like I have no idea, alright?" 
I took a breath and stared at the wall. There was no reason to be obstinate; it would only make this conversation much longer than it had to be. And I certainly didn't want that. So I slowly began to describe my dream, leading up to where we were now.
Chris shrugged. "Okay. See, that wasn't hard."
"It was so real," I persisted.
"Justin, did you forget that she's behind bars?" he asked. "You don't have anything to worry about."
I opened my mouth to say something and then paused, shutting it. Should I?
"Uh-oh," he said slowly. "What?"
"Nothing." I looked down at my hand. It was still bleeding.
"Curly, what aren't you telling me?" he pressed. "Please tell me."
"Well . . . the lady's not exactly behind bars any more . . ." I started. "In fact, the police don't know where she is."
"What?" he exclaimed. "The idiots! Where is she?"
I shrugged. "I'm not sure exactly what's going on. She could be there." I tried to explain to him what Davis had told me. It was hard to say really. Whether it was simply a delay in the system that caused his confusion or whether she really was 'misplaced'. "He also said it wasn't a concern of mine and that there was nothing to worry about."
Chris groaned. "Why didn't you tell me before when I asked how your phone call went?"
I shrugged. "I didn't want anybody worrying about me. There is nothing to worry about, right? Paul said that she wasn't going to come after me."
"Paul?" He frowned.
"Officer Davis," I replied. "He said that her concern was disappearing and not finding me because then she'd be too easy for the police to relocate."
"Well, he's right." Chris nodded. "Why the hell would he tell you that she was out of the system?"
"Because he's honest. And people should be honest."
"Look who this is coming from."
"Fuck you, Chris."
"I wouldn't worry about this, Justin."
"Are you just saying that?"
"No. I mean it. I have a good feeling about everything."
I sighed. "Okay. Well, in that case, can we keep this to ourselves? My . . . episode . . . too?"
"Episode?" He started laughing. "Cute name for it."
"Well, can we just keep it hush, hush?" I persisted. "Because I don't need JC acting like my mother again."
Chris laughed. "He has that tendency. So we're okay?" he asked.
"Yep," I replied with a nod. 
"You going to go back to bed? You need anything?" he asked as I stood.
"No." I laughed. "I can take care of myself."
"I know. But you know where my room is if you need me," he reminded. "What are you doing with that cut?"
I looked down at my hand. "It stopped bleeding. Should I bandage it?" I paused.
"No, let it breathe tonight and we'll fix it up tomorrow," he answered. He shut the light off in the bathroom. "Night, buddy."
"Night," I answered.
Without another thought, I went back to bed.
~~~~~
~~~~~
The morning came quickly.
Showered and dressed, I sat placidly on the couch of JC's room. Chris was showering in my room and Lance and Joey were eating in the kitchenette. 
"Hey, buddy," JC greeted as he plopped down beside me on the couch. "What's with the face?"
"What do you mean?" I answered.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing." I sighed. "Wasn't today her funeral?"
"Oh . . . Just, I don't know . . ."
"Yeah, I think it was," I replied. "I wish I was there."
He was silent for a moment. "Why?"
"What do you mean why?" I turned to face him. "Why do you think?"
"You'd only depress yourself."
"I'm already depressed," I replied.
"Justin, you knew you wouldn't be able to go," he replied with a look. 
"I know," I admitted. 
"So then?" he persisted. "Why are you getting yourself all worked up?"
I frowned. "I'm not. I only made a statement." I looked up at his gaze. "JC, look, let's not get into it, okay? Because you know we'll only end up fighting."
"Nah . . ." He shook his head. "Not over this."
I arched an eyebrow. "We have over stupider things." 
"True," he admitted. "But unless you start something, then we're not going to this time."
I sighed. "Fine, fine. It's always my fault." Just one wrong word and one of us could be down the other's throat.
"Leave it to you to be thinking about funerals," JC sighed. "Can't you just push past it, Justin?"
"What if your friend was killed?" I replied. "Would you want to go to the funeral? Could you move past it?"
"Look, J, I know you felt really close to her her, and she was only seven and—"
"Eight," I interrupted dryly. 
"My point is," he continued, "that—"
"Just stop, you don't know what you're talking about, JC," I scoffed.
"I'm just saying you only knew her for a couple of days, and while I understand you're upset—"
"No, you don't realize!" I retorted. "You never even met her! You don't have to undermine how I feel." 
"And I'm sorry, Justin. I am. I don't want to, and I'm not but I'm just trying to rationalize this and as upset as you are—"
"So I knew her ten minutes before it happened!" I shouted. "What difference does it make that 95% of the time I was with her she was unconscious? I don't care! Why do you?"
"Because you keep reflecting on it."
"Well, you shouldn't care! God, JC! I'm sorry that I wish I was at a funeral. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe I wish I could have known her for another ten minutes? I mean, what the hell, JC?"
"Justin, I don't think you understand where I'm coming from." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair somewhat anxiously. "I didn't think we were going to fight about this."
"I did," I muttered. "I told you we would."
"Justin, please . . ." He sighed. "What am I supposed to say to you?"
"Shouldn't you have planned that before you started a conversation? This really thoughtless conversation?"
He rolled his eyes. "I know this came out the wrong way, Justin, but if you would ever just give me the chance instead of having a five second fuse—"
"Right, it's always my fault. You always say it's my fault."
"Come on, Jus, I'm not saying that."
"Great." I sighed. "I don't see what the big deal is. You asked me what was up. Nothing is. So end of conversation as I see it. It doesn't always have to go further."
"Uh-uhn." He shook his head. "I want to know when you're going to be able to stop living in the past. Not even the past. That one week."
"How do you mean?" I frowned.
"You think Ashley 24/7, man. I won't say that you sleep it, too, because I don't even know if you're sleeping anymore. Are you?"
"Yes. And what has that got to do with anything?" I narrowed my eyes.
"Okay, I'm not going to press. I just don't want you centering your life around her. She's in heaven now. You can stop wondering about her. You can't be at her funeral, and we're sorry for that, but nothing's going to change so sulking isn't going to get you anywhere. You've changed. I don't know whether you realize it or not, but you have. Like when was the last time you played ball?"
I shrugged. "When have we had time?"
"Justin, you used to play on the bus. You made time. Now, you're just like, okay, leave me alone, I'm just going to sit here, I'm going to bed, and so forth."
I shook my head. "You're exaggerating." 
"No, I'm not. Ask any of the guys."
I shrugged. "Well, excuse me if lately I haven't been eager to go outside. I had my reasons. And we have been busy."
"I know, but that's over now."
"Do you want to play basketball or something?" I frowned.
"Justin, come on . . ." Suddenly his eyes drifted down and he reached out for my hand, eyes narrowing. "What happened?"
I pulled back but not quickly enough and my wrist was in his grasp. It did look a bit red but it was no big deal. "Nothing," I answered.
"You cut yourself?"
"Yeah, last night I broke a glass on accident. Really nothing, I don't know why it's so red looking." 
"'If it was just last night," he replied.
"Yeah."
"There's a court here if you want to play," he said after a pause.
I frowned, not following. "Huh?"
"Basketball, baby. Let's see if you're out of practice enough for me to kick your ass."
I wrinkled my nose. "What about my hand . . . ?"
"You making excuses?" he asked. 
"Of course not." I slapped his hand and got up.
"Change and meet me in the hall in five minutes." 
~~~~~
~~~~~
I dribbled the ball a little once outside, now clad in shorts and a UNC t-shirt. There was a nice half court behind the hotel just beyond the pool. JC was right about me not having played basketball in a while. It felt good to be playing again. I took a shot and winced as it hit the right side of the rim and bounced off. 
"Ooh, you're out of practice, boy . . ." JC teased as he retrieved the ball and did a lay-up. 
"Like you've been playing," I shot back dryly. "I'm recuperating still, remember?"
"Excuses, excuses," he replied as he passed me the ball. "You want to go first?"
"Nah." I tossed it back. "Go ahead, old man."
He rolled his eyes and bounced the ball to beyond the foul line and faced me. "Check."
I caught and returned the ball, then switched to defensive mode. I immediately stole the ball. 
"How about that?" I laughed after completing a lay-up. "Loser's ball."
He caught it and glared at me. "I was just checking what condition you were in," he answered as he brought the ball back. 
"Uh-huh." I smiled. 
"I was!" he complained.
"Check," I replied. 
The game ensued. JC wasn't exactly the most competitive or talented player, but he tried hard enough that it was worthwhile to play with him.
~~~~~
~~~~~
"I am the champion, my friend . . ."
"Justin . . ."
"No time for losers—" 
"I mean it." 
"'Cause I am the champion, I am the—"
We reached the door and JC took out the key.
"—champion . . ." I continued.
He opened the door and slipped in, trying to leave me out, but I quickly caught the handle. 
"That wasn't very nice," I objected, following him inside. "Don't be a sore loser."
Chris, Lance, and Joey were watching television and eating sandwiches. They looked up as we entered.
"You guys look hot," Joey noted.
"Do we?" I giggled girlishly. "How sweet."
Joey's mouth dropped. "Hot as in exhausted, jackass. Like in heat?"
Chris was laughing. "Sure." 
"Now I know why Joey got that doll," I laughed. 
"Hey, you ordered room service without us!" JC accused. I knew he was trying to change the subject. 
"You played basketball without us!" Lance answered.
"And who won?" I persisted. 
JC changed the subject again from my victory. "Well, guys, we've got practice and a concert tomorrow, so what do you want to do today?"
"Shopping!" Joey exclaimed. 
A public place . . .
"Shopping?" Lance was a little unwilling. Good, I wasn't so sure either. But I hadn't been shopping in a really, really long time and it was one of my favorite pastimes. However, I couldn't stop thinking that it might not be the smartest thing to do.
"Let's go bowling!" Chris suggested.
"No!" I shook my head. "Let's not."
"Aw, that could be fun though!"
I gave him a look. "Today is not a bowling day."
"Come on, Just. We can bumper bowl."
"Chris . . ." JC started. "I really don't think they'd let us bumper bowl."
"Oh, sure they would."
We stared at him skeptically and he shrugged it off.
"Come on, guys, let's do something," Joey insisted. "What's wrong with shopping? We haven't been out for the longest time and we could grab something to eat in the food court or something." 
"Curly and I have to shower before we go," JC said. 
I got up and smiled. "No, Joey, you cannot join me."
He snorted. "You're a big boy. I think you can handle it yourself."
"Don't you know it."
~~~~~
~~~~~ 
I had this gut feeling the minute we walked into the mall that something wasn't right. Paranoid as I was, I really felt that I should trust my instinct. I didn't know how I could explain it to the other guys. I didn't want to leave necessarily. After all, we'd just gotten there. But I did want to be careful.
We'd decided to go to the food court first. I was relieved when the other guys went to get the food and Chris and I were to 'guard' our seats. I knew I could try to tell him. 
"Chris . . ." I started slowly, regarding the man somewhat timidly. 
"Yeah?" He turned from looking at a bunch of girls walking by and observed me. 
"I . . . I just have this feeling . . ."
"What kind of feeling?" He frowned, obviously having no clue where I was coming from.
I paused. "Well . . . maybe I'm thinking about things too much, but ever since that lady's kind of disappeared, I keep worrying—"
"Justin . . ." he interrupted. "You've got to be kidding. We talked about this, and you can't be sure she's missing."
I was hurt. 
"Didn't we go over this just last night?" he persisted. He gazed at me impatiently with a loud sigh. "I don't mean to discourage you from telling me, of course, but isn't enough, enough?"
"But, Chris, I can't help it," I objected. "Paranoia, remember?"
He smiled ruefully. "How could I?"
"I just think, and I get anxious. Like what happened at the museum. But they were actually there then. I just . . . I don't know. Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing." I noticed Chris's exaggerated nodding and laughed. "But I can't help thinking, can I?"
"Curly, Curly, Curly . . ."
"Can I?" I persisted. 
"Of course not. But you have to think of something else."
I nodded in fake agreement. "Like of rainbows and puffy clouds and puppies and candy?"
He laughed. "Exactly."
"Well, sor-ry. No can do. Not possible."
"Then think of something a little more in your range," he answered. "Like singing, basketball, and maybe even a little bit of Tyra Banks or something."
"Whatever."
"Well, Justin, you can at least stop thinking about stalkers, and guns, and us guys worrying over you."
"I wish," I retorted. "But you should know from your little psych major that sometimes you can't control what you think about."
"Yeah, I know, Just. I wish I could do something for you. But what can I do?"
I shrugged, running my finger along the edge of the table top. I glanced out at the crowded food court at the people, tables, fake plants, and restaurants. I sighed. 
"You have nothing to worry about in here," Chris continued. "Maybe a rambunctious fan, but that's it. I mean, do you see anything?"
I smiled impishly. "Gee, Chris, do you think that baby over there is giving me the evil eye?" I asked. "I think he's aiming his food at me."
"See?" Chris laughed. "That's, like, the biggest of your worries." 
"I hope so." I chewed on my lip thoughtfully. 
I sighed. Nothing he had said assured me.
"Here you go," Joey said as he approached, throwing straws and napkins down on the table. "Lance and JC are coming with the food in a second." He took a seat. 
I unwrapped the straw and hoped that everything would run smoothly. 
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Oh my God!!" 
The screams of a teenybopper give you mixed feelings. Part of you is still surprised that people know your name and so you're kind of happy, while the rest of you wants to run away, tired of it and a little nervous of their capabilities. At this point in time, most of me felt the latter.
Two girls had caught up with Chris and me. We had split from the rest of the group. We usually do that when we're at malls and stuff. It's harder to be recognized when you're alone, or just with one other. If the whole group is together, there's no doubt in a girl's mind who we are. However, since I was with Chris, that was a different story.
"Damn your dreadlocks," I hissed in his ear as I plastered my innocent smile on my face for the girls. They looked around thirteen or fourteen and sweet enough; kind of shy. Some of the girls we meet are real sluts and you can tell by looking at them. Those are the fans that you try to duck away from. All they want is you, not your music. Makes me sick.
"Hey, girls." Chris winked at them.
They blushed. "Hi, are you Justin and Chris?" one asked, obviously the bolder of the two. 
"No, we're Chris and Justin," Chris answered.
"That was lame," I muttered. 
The girls laughed softly so Chris wouldn't feel bad. He smiled wryly.
"It's nice to meet you," the second said earnestly. "Can we have your autographs?"
"Sure," I answered. "Do you have anything to sign . . . ?"
The girls exchanged frantic looks. "Um . . ." After a minute of looking through her bag, the second one pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.
"Cool, I thought I was gonna have to sign your hand or something," I sighed, taking the paper and leaning on Chris' arm. Sometimes we did sign on hands and stuff, but you kind of want to sign something that they can keep and remember if possible instead of trying to preserve their hand or something. Which some do. "What are your names?"
"Jessica and Amy," the first answered, growing excited. 
"Okay . . ." I made my mark and handed it to Chris.
"Thank you so much!" one was saying. 
"Justin, could I ask you something about a rumor I heard?" the other began.
I felt my stomach twist. I hated rumors. What would this one be about? Brit? My hair? Something else? "Okay," I answered.
"Are you in trouble with the law?" she asked.
I stared at her for a minute and then realized my mouth was hanging open. I sent Chris a look. "No . . ." I began.
"How come people have spotted you with the police and stuff then?" she persisted. 
What should I say? I couldn't just tell them what had happened. Only the guys were ever going to know. Well, and my mom. Sheesh, she would be mad. Okay, focus on right now, Justin.
"Uh . . ." I was staring at Chris, who seemed focused on perfecting his signature. Damn you, Chris, help me! "Really, they have?"
She frowned and nodded. 
"Oh." I paused. "Well, no . . . I'm not in trouble with the law."
"Well, ladies, here you go," Chris started and handed each girl back a piece of paper. "It was great meeting you, but Curly and me have to go. And he only causes trouble for us, not the cops. Hope to see you soon." With that he took my arm and we started walking away.
"Justin," he began, "you are a complete and utter idiot." He glanced behind us to make sure the girls weren't following. They had walked off in another direction. "How many PR lectures have you had?"
"What?" I answered in shock. This can't be happening. "Why the hell didn't you help me back there?"
"Because I wanted to make sure you knew how to respond to that sort of question, dufus, and 'uhhhhh' followed by an hour pause is not an answer that the press is gonna accept!" he snapped. 
"Chris . . . I didn't expect it. And what do you mean the press?"
"Are you that ignorant? Or just naïve? Justin, people are going to ask questions! That right there is just the beginning, okay? For all we know, a whole interview is going to be based on what happened!"
"Are you kidding?" I groaned. "You mean, now management's going to start to ask too, and . . ." Johnny had promised that things would be kept low key. I believed that they would be.
"Here's where we're supposed to meet the guys." He started for a bench. "We only have ten minutes anyway. Sit."
Reluctantly I sat heavily on the bench and leaned back. 
"Okay," he said from beside me with a sigh. "Justin, people watch you. They watch us. If they even saw a you lookalike—"
I groaned.
"—In trouble with the police," he continued, "it would come back to us and they would ask questions. But they don’t know the whole story and they won't. But they will—" He glared and made sure I saw it. "—get suspicious if a certain guy answers 'uhhhhh' to their questions. Got it? And for fuck's sake, of course management's been asking."
I winced. "But what do I say then? Yes, I witnessed a double murder and survived an attempt on my life, but I'm fine, everyone?" 
"Do you think so?" He gave me a tired look. "Don't be an ass to me."
"Chris," I whined, leaning into him. "Help me. I don’t know. That's why I'm asking you."
"Well, no, you don’t say that."
"Duh . . ." I rolled my eyes. "I think then Mystery Murderer would have another reason to hunt me down." My stomach churned. "So what do I say?"
"Exactly?" He hesitated. "Look, buddy, I'm not great at this public relations sort of stuff, but it's not rocket science. You confidently deny and change the subject."
"Hey guys," we heard JC.
We looked up at the approaching three. "Get attacked by anyone?" I asked.
"Only six," Lance replied with a shrug.
"What are you two so deep in conversation about?" JC asked.
"Justin wants to know what to say when someone asks him if he's involved with the police at all," Chris answered.
JC raised an eyebrow. "Someone asked you that?" 
I nodded.
"Wow, a little unexpected."
"Exactly." I shot Chris a look. 
"Guys, let's not fight in a mall, huh?" JC asked. "Ready to go?"
~~~~~
~~~~~
"Should I have a standard interview answer?" I asked when we got back to the hotel. "I don't know exactly how to make it sound right. Or to make the subject change."
"No kidding," Chris muttered.
"I'm being serious."
"So am I."
I rolled my eyes and took a seat on the couch. "I'm just saying that to be completely honest, I never thought about any of this as interview material, but I suppose since people see me everywhere somehow, that questions may pop up concerning the hospitals and police and—"
"Just say they're mistaken." Joey shrugged. "No need to try to drag anything out."
"That could work," JC began. "Right? We should ask Johnny if—"
"He already said it would be kept out of the press." I sighed. "I think Joey's suggestion should work. Simple enough, right?"
"You're good with the press," Lance said. "Just be stubborn about it."
"As long as you don’t stutter this time," Chris replied. 
"Hey, you weren't helping, Mr. It-takes-me-fifteen-minutes-to-sign-an-autograph."
"Whatever. I wanted to see whether you were smart enough to answer and undoubtedly you aren't, Peroxide Boy."
"Bite me, Scary Spice."
"Both of you, grow up," JC started. "Let's just hope everything's settled."
~~~~~
~~~~~ 
Like we'd asked for it, the next few interviews, whether for television, radio, or print, asked me about certain curious sightings. I realized there were even pictures. That itself was scary. But like Joey reminded me afterwards, while an intrusion like always, it was actually a reason to feel safe. 
It still weirded me out, but he was right in a way. It kind of did make me feel better.
Finally, almost a week had passed without any question or event or barely a conversation alluding to my chaotic recent events. 
It was almost too good to be true.
"Hi, Chris!" I yelled trying to sound somewhat cheerful as I plopped down beside him on his bed in his room.
He slowly raised his gaze from the newspaper he was reading to me and looked thoughtful. I wasn't sure what to make of his look but decided to ignore it.
"Whatcha doing?" I persisted when he made no effort for conversation. 
"I'm reading newspaper and trying unsuccessfully to pretend I'm alone," he replied.
I ignored the hint and looked around the room. "Where's Joey?"
"With Lance."
"Oh. OK. So what's up, Chris?" 
He put the paper down. "Hm, the sky."
"No kidding." 
Before I could start a decent conversation with Chris, who wasn't much of a contributor, there was a knock at the adjoining door.
"It's open!" I called. 
JC walked in and looked at us both lying on the bed. "You two look lazy," JC said with a smile. 
Chris cleared his throat and quickly put an arm around my shoulder. "We'll finish this tonight, Justin. Thanks for interrupting, JC."
"Sicko." I removed his arm and pushed it away. "What's up, JC?"
"I got through to the police," he answered. "I called after you left."
"Well, you're smiling, so I'm guessing good news?" I started.
"Good guess." He sat down in the chair in the corner and leaned back. "They have her."
"Who?"
"Who do you think?" he answered. "Woman was never missing. Cell number mix-up."
"What stupid assholes!" I couldn't contain myself. 
"Paperwork and stuff got confused. They were quite nervous as well, trust me. I'm surprised they even told you."
"So? That's still bullshit!" This had been bothering me incessantly, for nothing.
"My thoughts exactly," JC assured. "And the names that the woman gave, what's his face told you about that?"
"Paul," I answered. "And yeah? What about them?"
"Found a suspect," JC answered. "They were going to check it out today."
"Which probably means next week," Chris muttered with a smile. "That's good news though."
JC nodded. "Curly, you didn't say anything yet."
"I know . . ." I answered. "I can't say that makes a difference."
"What do you mean? Of course it does!" JC exclaimed. "The woman's behind bars. The man will be- maybe even by tomorrow. They know where he is. It's all over. You should be ecstatic."
"Let's have a party," I replied sarcastically. I saw his look. "I know, JC. I'm glad. I just don't feel different. And there were two guys."
"Justin, it's over."
He was right. Why was I arguing? I didn't need to do this to myself anymore. "Okay, it's over. Let's do something. Let's forget it." 
"Hey, guys, I was looking at the paper," Chris began, picking it back up, "and there's some good movies playing. Want to go?"
"Not until Justin tells me that it's over and he's happy," JC answered.
I glared at him. "JC, I'm so unbelievably overjoyed. I so delighted I don't think I'll be able to get over it. It's over." I paused. "Good enough?"
He applauded. "Bravo." 
I laughed. 
I suddenly felt safe. I don't know why it changed, but I thought to myself: they'd been after me to prevent me from giving them up. They were already too late to prevent that… There was no more that I could affect them…
So it was over.
Maybe I would believe it now.
Maybe things were finally back to normal. 
"What movies?" I asked.
It was time to work on moving on. For real. 

Finis