Prologue (Druid)
A quiet suburb of Orlando, Florida.
The time....3:45 pm on a sunny Wednesday in April.
The place...a home shared by three men, where they're joined by two other friends.
The event...an unexpected 15 minute phone call from someone that wasn't supposed to be calling them for another week and a half.
The result...
The silence is shattered.
*****
"We are not going on tour with them!" the shorter brown-eyed man screamed.
"You call them back and tell them that we ain't doin' shit with those guys!" his Italian companion agreed.
The arguing went on like this for some time with none of the other four men noticing that the deliverer of the bad news was no longer in the room. If they had bothered to wonder, they'd have found him outside on the back porch pushing himself slowly on the porch swing.
Shaking his head, he looked up at the sky in frustration, "I bet Kevin doesn't get this much shit from HIS guys."
*****
Another suburb of Orlando.
The rest of the setting is fairly similar.
The only difference...
This time there's no porch swing.
*****
"Whose fucking bright idea was this?" asked the blonde lead.
"Yeah! They know how much I hate those pussy losers!" snarled his tattooed friend.
The eldest of the group shook his head slightly before quietly asking, "Did it ever occur to you that that may be exactly why they ARE doing this?"
All he saw were the four offended and disbelieving stares before getting out of his chair and heading for the kitchen. Quickly rummaging around in the cupboards, he found what he was looking for and poured himself a few shots of vodka. After the first shot burned its way down his throat, he realized that he could still hear them arguing. Only one thought was lodged in his head as he picked up the second shot glass.
"I bet the NSync guys don't give Lance this much grief."
*****
Chapter 1
Back to Losing Control Main Page