Lance Bass sunk into the plush chair in the corner of his hotel room and flipped the top of his laptop open. He lifted his feet and placed them on the corner of the small table, crossing his ankles, before pressing the power button on the computer. As the machine beeped and booted up, he squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, desperately trying to shut out the screaming from the next room. Justin and their publicist, Reychal Clement, had been arguing nonstop for the past week.
Having Justin and Reychal together wasn't exactly the easiest task on a good day, seeing has how they were always fighting. Lately though, the unbearable factor had been turned up one hundred percent. Sure, Lance understood Justin's point of his most recent argument starters, but there was always a time to let something go, and Justin hadn't seen it yet. The door connecting Lance's room to Reychal's burst open and Justin ran in, holding a videotape.
"Justin, you asshole, give it back!" Reychal yelled, right on Justin's heels.
"No." Justin jumped over Lance's legs and stood behind him, dangling the video just out of Reychal's reach.
"You are such a prick." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
"Oh, such language for a lady... tell me Reychal, do you kiss RJ with that mouth?"
Lance sighed and set his computer down before standing and grabbing the video from Justin's fingers. "Okay, what's the problem this time?" Justin and Reychal began talking at the same time. "Okay, hold it. Justin, what's the problem?"
"Reychal won't stop watching that video. I swear, I'm going to have to commit myself if I hear 'California Dreamin' or Kelly Clarkson sing 'Before Your Love' one more time."
Lance looked down at the label of the video and saw the "American Idols in Vegas" scrawled over it. He held in a laugh as he raised an eyebrow at Reychal. "Well, maybe if he found a girl pathetic enough to actually WANT to date him, he'd understand." Reychal was a 22-year-old recent college graduate from Atlanta who had been dating RJ Helton since before the auditions for "American Idol." However, since he had made it into the top ten, she had been driving everyone crazy with watching the show. "I don't understand what his problem is anyway. It's not like he has to sit and watch it."
"She has a point J," Lance pointed out.
"Maybe not, but I can still hear it."
"You two need to stop, okay? We have to work together, we have to learn to deal with everyone's obsessive tendencies..." Reychal glared at Lance. "...so Justin, why don't you just go swim some laps or something... and Reychal, why don't you give RJ a call or something? See if he wants to come out for a few days... anything... just give the videos a break." Lance handed the video back to her and as she grabbed it from his hand, turned and stomped back into her own room, slamming the door.
"Thanks man," Justin began to say, heading for the door.
"And you... just stop picking fights with her already. I don't want to have to bring up the Britney years." Justin didn't answer, just lowered his head and left the room. It's not that he just didn't answer... he couldn't... Lance was right. Lance could practically see the wheels turning though, could practically see Justin dying to have a comeback. As soon as the door swung shut, Lance sat back down and connected to the Internet. No sooner had he signed on to his AOL instant messenger than his cellular phone, lying on the table next to his feet, began to ring. He once again set the laptop aside, and leaned forward to stop the incessant ringing.
"Justin, if you are sick of hearing it just leave."
The person on the other end ignored him. "Laaaaance... what room you in?"
He laughed to himself. "Hey Taylor... 517... why?"
"So that when you tell me you don't want to go to a movie, I can come down and bug you about it."
"You haven't asked me to go to a movie with you yet." He laughed.
"I'm about to." She paused for a moment. "Laaaaance... go to a movie with me..."
The ringing of the computer caught his attention as a message popped up on the screen. He rolled his eyes at the single, 'Pleeeeaaase?' from MSSweetheart79. "So, now you are going to torture me online too?"
"Laaaaance... please?"
"Taylor, I don't feel like doing anything tonight. I just want to stay in, not be hounded by security, ya know, chill. It might do you good to do the same every once in a while."
"I don't want to."
"Come on Taylor... however..." the door across the room and the days earlier events flashed through his mind. "...if you are dead set on going to a movie, why don't you see if Reychal would like to go? Justin would love you forever."
"I don't want to ask her. She'll talk about RJ the entire time."
Lance sighed into the phone. "Taylor, if you want to go, you'll ask."
"Fine... I'll talk to you later." She hung up the phone and as Lance pressed the button to end the call, another message came up on the screen. 'You suck,' was all it said.
He sat back with a chuckle and thought about the conversation he'd just finished with Taylor. She was an original - that was for sure. Taylor Evans was one of his best friends... as best as he could get with a girl that wasn't his girlfriend. The two had been friends ever since the second grade when Taylor had moved to Clinton with her family from another small town nearby. Now though, Taylor was grown up... an elementary school teacher who came out on tour with the boys on occasion to make some extra money... and have a good time. She mostly handled the fan mail and fan club workings on the road.
Lance had just brought up the homepage for Yahoo to check his e-mail when the obligatory screen came up, letting him know that he had received an instant message from someone who wasn't on his list. As his eyes sought out the screen name, he sighed, knowing the JCZGURL meant that he was about to have an encounter with a fan, and likely, a crazy one. He accepted the message and waited while the message came up. 'Are you Lance? Because if you aren't, that's a stupid sn to have.'
Lance smiled as he leaned forward, letting his fingers rest above the keys, letting his mind go to work for how to approach this girl. He decided that maybe this once, direct was best. 'I am Lance. And you are...?'
'Like I'm gonna tell you. If you ARE Lance, why are you admitting it? Does privacy mean nothing to you?' Lance sat back. He was expecting crazy, but not on THIS side of the spectrum. 'If you were Lance, wouldn't you deny it?' Lance sat up to reply when another message appeared. 'Nothing to say, huh? Well, it's obvious it's because you aren't him. I'm going to tell all my friends to not send you messages because you are just a pathetic poser.'
Lance stared at the screen in amazement. "What just happened here?" His attention was pulled away from the computer by a knock on the door. Lance slowly sat the computer down, and stood to answer it. He pulled the door open to see Taylor leaning her tall frame against the doorframe.
"Laaaaance... please?"
"What happened to Reychal?"
"She doesn't want to go. Waiting for a phone call." Lance smiled and turned away. "What was that smile for?"
"My fault." He held up his hands. "I told her to call him or something, anything, but just stop watching those damn videos."
"I hate you." She smiled at him to let him know she was kidding. "Please?"
"Taylor, no."
"What are you doing all evening then?"
"I don't know. Internet. TV. Sleep. Run ins with crazy fans."
"Crazy fans?"
"I've been online for all of ten minutes. Check it out." Lance motioned to the computer. Taylor crossed the room and leaned over the screen, reading the conversation.
She laughed out loud before giving her opinion. "You never said you were Lance Bass, just Lance." Lance shrugged before opening a can of soda. "Stupid fans." Lance shrugged and sat back down, staring expectantly at Taylor.
"What?"
"Well?"
"Are you kicking me out?"
Lance thought for a moment. "Not in so many words, but, yeah, I think I am." He paused a moment. "Yeah, I'm kicking you out."
Taylor crossed her arms and stared at him before going to the door and stopping with her hand on the doorknob. "I just want you to remember this night the next time you want to go out and do something."
"Hey Taylor?" Taylor stopped and turned. "You know that you'll still go with me."
She smiled at him and shook her head. "You're irresistible, Lance Bass."
Lance pulled his laptop closer as the door shut behind Taylor. As soon as he had typed in his sign in name for e-mail, another message from someone not on his list appeared on the screen. He accepted it and read the all capital letters. 'OH MY GOD! R U LANCE BASS? LIKE, THE LANCE BASS?' Lance lowered his head for a split second before his fingers moved over the keys.
'No, why would you think that?'
'THE SN SOUNDS LIKE IT'S U. AND THE INFO. R U SURE UR NOT HIM?'
'I know me, and I'm most definitely not him.'
'OH. BYE.'
It amazed Lance to no end how someone was more than willing to talk when they thought he was famous, but convince them otherwise, and they were gone. He hadn't even typed in his password before another message came up. "Oh screw it!" He muttered to himself before closing the new window that had popped up.
Lance signed off with a groan and stared pitifully at his laptop screen. Why couldn't he be online for a while without being IM'd by fans? His screen name wasn't blatantly obvious… was it?
"You're getting a new screen name? Ooooh I want to pick one out for you!"
He eyed her cautiously. "Why am I getting the nagging feeling you're up to something?"
She pulled her eyes up to meet his innocently. "Because you're paranoid?"
"Funny. You called me paranoid last week when I knew something was up before I discovered you had put green Kool-Aid in my conditioner."
Slender shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "You needed a change. Even Josh has changed his hair recently. Besides, the green really brought out your eyes."
His eyes locked with hers in warning. "Don't you dare start laughing."
She struggled to hide the smirk desperate to peek out. "I wouldn't dream of it, Laaaaance." Silence filled the room, but only for a few seconds. "C'mon… who knows you like I do? I could pick out the perfect screen name for you."
He resigned with a sigh. "I don't want anything about Toby, Beanie Babies, or Poofu." Her silly grin worried him. "I mean it, Taylor."
"Chill," she told him. "No horses, bean-filled miniature stuffed animals, or big goofy dogs. Got it."
Sliding the laptop towards her, he sat back and watched anxiously. "You're enjoying this."
She didn't bother looking up from the screen, but he could see the wheels turning in her head. "Don't I always? Let's see here… What about… no, that won't work. Maybe… no, that's no good either. You need something good… something original… something all you… I'VE GOT IT!"
"Dear lord, help us now."
Her fingers moved at lightening speed to type in the name and a password before he could stop her. "You can change your password later," she informed him, clicking the 'submit' button to finalize the name.
"What did you put as my password?"
"Laaaaance. With 5 a's… it looks cute like that."
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. What's my screen name?"
The congratulatory/confirmation screen popped up and she sat back in satisfaction. "See for yourself, stud muffin."
Upon reading the screen, Lance's eyes widened. "Oh no. HELL no. Taylor…"
"What?" she asked innocently. "There is no mention whatsoever of Toby, Beanie Babies, or that ridiculous dog you dressed up as in high school. All of your specifications were met."
"But… but… 'MississippiStud?!'"
Grinning, she reached over and pinched his cheek. "You are a stud…"
It had been so completely Taylor to give him that screen name. She was definitely one-of-a-kind. He knew without a doubt though she hadn't expected people to think of him when they saw that screen name. She hadn't meant to make things difficult for him - not in that way, anyway. Still, it didn't change the fact that he was getting several IM's a day from fans wondering if he was 'the Lance Bass.'
"Time for a new screen name," he muttered to himself, opening the web browser and typing in the address for AOL. Once at the AIM website, he clicked on the link to create a new screen name and pondered his options. The 'no Toby, no Beanie Babies, no Poofu' rule was still in effect, but now he also knew not to even mention the state of Mississippi.
What could he use then? Maybe a good Garth lyric… no the fans would probably figure that out too. Sighing, he looked down at the FreeLance Entertainment logo on one of the business cards on the table. "Free Lance," he mumbled. "Someone ought to free me." Suddenly, as if a light had suddenly flashed in his brain, the answer came to Lance. "Free Me. That's it." Into the first text box he typed 'FreeMe2002' and typed his personal password into the following two fields. The confirmation page showed up almost instantly and he smiled in relief. He now had a new name that no one else knew about, not even Taylor. He'd still keep his old one, but this screen name would be for when he didn't feel like dealing with crazy fans and people he didn't know pretending to know him. No, with this name, he could be himself. Not Lance Bass, one-fifth of pop super group *NSYNC… just Lance, a small-town guy with regular dreams.
Not ten seconds after he completed his new profile Lance received an instant message. 'Hi.'
He immediately replied back. 'Hey.'
'I found your sn under common interests. I'm extremely bored and your name looked interesting. Hope you don't mind… Of course, you listed common interests willingly so if you're not in the mood to chat it's your own damn fault.'
Lance couldn't help but laugh. 'I suppose you're right. You sure are long-winded.'
'Annoyed is a more accurate adjective.'
'Since you brought it up, can I assume you're going to explain why?'
'Oooooo a smart one… What a change. My best friend is being a butt, which is why I'm online and bored to begin with.'
'A butt, huh? What an affectionate term.'
'It's the truth. You'd think my girl friends would be more frustrating, but I swear, he must have some male version of PMS.'
'Ouch. You didn't actually say that to him, did you?'
'The PMS bit? Not recently.'
He chuckled at her honesty. She sounded like a spitfire, but Lance knew plenty of girls and women like that, so he couldn't really say he was all that surprised.
'So what's your story?'
The question confused him. 'What do you mean?'
'Why are you online? Interesting sn by the way… Free you, huh? Do I even want to ask what you want to be freed from or what it is you want freed?'
'Cute,' he typed. 'I'm online because I'm just in the mood to relax for the night. And you obviously don't have innocent mind…'
'Shhhhhh. Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.'
'Your secret is safe with me. I wanted a name no one I know would know. What about your name? Sporkey? There has to be a story behind that.'
'There is. But if I told you, I'd have to kill you.'
'Now that's not fair. I explained mine.'
'No you didn't. You said you wanted a name no one you know would recognize or know about. I was aiming for the same goal with "Sporkey," but that's not what made me think of the name itself. Nice try, though.'
'I'll show you mine if you show me yours.'
'OML that sounded so wrong!'
Lance didn't consider himself to be an Internet or chat whiz, but he'd chatted enough to know most of the abbreviations. This one was new. 'OML?' he asked.
'I have this thing about "oh my god." I was brought up in a religious family, and if I ever said that in front of my mom I wouldn't be sitting down for a few days. I won't even use "OMG" so I substitute an "L" for the "G."'
'What does the "L" stand for?'
'Another thing I'd have to kill you for if I ever told you. It's one of my quirks.'
Lance laughed aloud. 'Quirks I understand. What does your boyfriend think of your quirk?'
The screen was still for a minute, and Lance reread what he'd written. "Damn," he muttered. 'Sorry… I went and assumed things without asking you. Stupid me.'
'No… it's okay. I do have a boyfriend. He says it's "cute" but I know he just thinks I'm being silly.'
'Did he actually say that?'
'He doesn't have to. It's written all over his face. His parents are extremely laid back - he wouldn't understand."
'My parents weren't. They are pretty strict, still.'
'Welcome to my life. It's funny because my parents aren't devout southern Baptists… they have nothing against dancing or any other social interactions. Language, on the other hand… It's a pet peeve of theirs, I guess, and saying the Lord's name in vain in my house might as well be one of the seven deadly sins. Anyway, enough about my religion. You know I have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?'
'Yeah. Unfortunately, most of my friends don't like her.'
'Why is that?'
'I don't know. They say she's a bitch, but she's just very outspoken and opinionated. My best friend especially doesn't like her.' That was the understatement of the year. Lance was well aware of Taylor's dislike for Quinn, but he wasn't sure of how to explain it. While Taylor had always been picky about Lance's girlfriends, she seemed to have a deep-rooted disgust for the blonde. True, Quinn wasn't particularly nice to Taylor. It seemed every time they were together Quinn would antagonize her. That Lance couldn't quite figure out either. Quinn acted like a jealous schoolgirl half of the time, but there was nothing for her to be jealous of.
Sighing, Lance watched Sporkey offer a possible answer… one he just didn't consider because it was so outlandish and preposterous. 'Maybe he's jealous?'
'She. And she's definitely not jealous. She's protective in a way when it comes to who I date, I guess.'
'Well at least your friends… oh crap, I have to go.'
'At least my friends what?'
'I'll have to finish this conversation later… if you want to, that is. I have a nosy friend coming in.'
Lance didn't want to stop chatting - he was enjoying their conversation. He wasn't one to usually ask this after chatting just once with someone, but he didn't know when they'd both be online again and since neither one had AOL, he didn't automatically know her address. 'Do you have an email address?'
Surprisingly, her reply was almost immediate. Lance had expected her to make excuses as to why she was against emailing people she'd just met online, but she didn't hesitate in the least. 'Sporkey@hotmail.com,' came the brief answer. 'Gotta run. Bye, FreeMe.'
Before Lance could blink, she had signed off. "That was fast," he mumbled to himself, staring at the screen. He studied the address for a moment before adding it to his address book. Opening up a new message window, Lance began to type. 'Sporkey…'
Lance looked up from his paper to meet Taylor's smiling face. "Very relaxing, thank you. I went to sleep early. What did you end up doing?"
The smile remained fixed on her face. "Well, thanks to you, I was bored all night. In fact, I went to bed early because I was so bored. Thank you so much, Laaaaance."
"You were still up just after midnight when I dropped by," contradicted Reychal.
"Shhhh!" Taylor exclaimed in a hushed voice. "I'm supposed to be guilt-tripping Lance here!"
Lance laughed. "You're cute, Taylor. What were you doing past midnight?"
Reychal grinned. "She was talking to Chase," she told him matter-of-factly.
Taylor glared at Reychal. "Thank you, Reychal. I do know how to speak for myself."
Lance couldn't hide his surprise. He and Chase had never really gotten along much, and to his knowledge Taylor had never been friends with Chase either. They were nothing more than acquaintances in high school. "I didn't know you and Chase kept in touch," he said. "How is he?"
"He's… uh… fine," stammered the young woman. She'd been hoping to avoid this conversation, but Reychal had a way of butting in and putting everything out in the open at the least opportune time.
"Keep in touch?" giggled Reychal. "Taylor's…" Before Reychal could finish her sentence, though, Taylor covered the other woman's mouth with her hand. "I keep in touch with a lot of people back home," she insisted.
He regarded his friend curiously. "What was Reychal about to say, Taylor?"
Reychal tried to speak, but Taylor kept her hand in place. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Right, Reychal?" prompted Taylor, looking pointedly at Reychal.
Reychal rolled her eyes and pulled Taylors hand off of her mouth. "This is interesting. Do you mean to tell me he doesn't know?"
"Know what?" demanded Lance.
"Nothing," Taylor repeated.
"Reychal?" he continued. "What don't I know?"
She shook her head. "I can't say. Taylor should be the one to tell you anyway." Reychal turned and headed for another table.
Lance focused all of his attention on his best friend. "Taylor? What aren't you telling me?"
Taylor shook her head. "It's nothing, Laaaaance. Really."
"Taylor."
She groaned. "Come on, Lance…"
"I'll go call RJ and ask him," warned Lance.
"Why the heck RJ?"
"Because if Reychal knows, then so does RJ."
Sighing, Taylor shook her head. "You don't want to know."
He watched her silently for a minute or so, studying her face. She was making eye contact, but rarely would Taylor actually refuse to look Lance in the eye. The more he looked at her, the more certain he was about what was going on. It surprised and annoyed him, but more than anything it hurt him she hadn't told him before. "Are you seeing Chase?" he finally asked, his voice quiet.
She nodded ever so slightly. "Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Taylor felt guilty at the hurt look on Lance's face. "It's just… you and Chase don't really get along. You're overprotective at times, and Chase has some sort of inferiority complex."
"Does Chase know you're on tour with us?"
Taylor shook her head. "No. I mean… he knows I'm traveling but not that I'm here with you."
Lance nodded. He should've figured as much. Taylor was more than aware of his opinions regarding Chase Harding, but as she had told him before, she frankly didn't care. "That's why I'm not fond of Chase, Taylor. He's possessive and gets jealous easily."
Her eyes widened defensively. "And Quinn is any better? She's a spoiled brat!"
This wasn't going well. "Taylor, that's not-"
"Nice? It's a heck of a lot better than calling her a bitch."
"Taylor!" he exclaimed, shocked.
She took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Chase sooner," she told him, her voice soft. "I figured if y'all didn't know about each other, things would be better. I didn't want you to fight."
"Just because I don't like the guy doesn't mean I won't be civil, you know."
"I know," Taylor agreed. "I wasn't thinking."
"No," he said slowly, "you weren't, but you're still my best friend. Even if you don't like my girlfriend." He smiled, letting her know he wasn't angry.
Taylor rolled her eyes. "When do I ever like your girlfriends?"
Lance laughed at that. It was definitely true, because Lance hadn't had a single girlfriend Taylor had approved of 100%. "Good point. So, are you going to sit down and have some breakfast or are you going to just stand there all morning?"
Sticking her tongue out quickly, Taylor seated herself across from Lance. "So, speaking of the she-devil…" She smiled sweetly at Lance's look of warning. "Where is Quinn?"
"Down in Orlando," answered Lance. "She's coming up the day after tomorrow."
"I can hardly wait."
He eyed her. "Behave while Quinn is here, Taylor."
"Who, me? I'm a sweet, innocent Southern lady."
"I'm starting to question the innocent part. I mean it though, Taylor. I need you to be nice."
"Aren't I always until she makes some snooty or snide comment?"
"You could just ignore her."
No. Taylor was not going to ignore Quinn's cheap shots. She wasn't brought up to sit still while people berated her and she wasn't about to start now. It annoyed her that Lance would even ask her to. "I'll be nice, Lance, but I will not stand there and do nothing while your girlfriend makes rude remarks to me. I don't deserve that."
"Of course you don't."
"Then don't ask me to take that crap. That isn't fair."
He sighed. "It isn't fair. I'm sorry. Quinn is just… Quinn. That's just the way she is."
"Please don't make excuses for her. I don't think I can handle listening to them right now."
"Taylor," Lance began. The ringing of a cell phone cut him off. Almost every head in the room lowered to check if it was theirs.
"It's mine," Reychal pointed out before turning her phone on. "What's up, this is Reychal." She listened for a moment before speaking. "Okay, yeah, that's awesome. All right. So..." She flipped open a date book and a notebook and held her pen, ready to write. "We can be expecting him on Wednesday next week? Yeah, that's right, the seventeenth. All right, I'll make sure the arrangements are made and have our management contact you again in a couple days. Great, you too."
In one movement, Reychal turned her phone off and threw it into her backpack, along with the date book and notebook. "Score!" She exclaimed before looking around only to notice every eye in the room was on her. She stood up, smacking the table with her hand. "Damn, I'm good," she said as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.
"What exactly are you good AT?" Joey wondered aloud as she hurried past.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She flung back. She then gave him a wink. "You'll find out in our meeting this afternoon."
As Reychal hurried from the room, Lance turned his attention back to Taylor. "Taylor... it's really important to me that you and Quinn get along. Hell, I can't stand Chase and yet, I'm still nice to the guy. You owe me the same courtesy."
Taylor lowered her head, knowing he was right. "But, Chase isn't rude to you. He just ignores you. Big difference Lance, big difference."
Lance sighed and pushed the newspaper out of the way. "Taylor, what do you want me to do? I feel like you are giving me an ultimatum here and I really don't know which one I should pick. Why don't you just tell me? Tell me who to pick, Taylor."
Taylor groaned inwardly. "Why are you doing this? Why do you think I want you to pick? I'm not asking that of you Lance, I'm not. All I'm asking for is a little respect from Quinn. Since it's our friendship she's jealous of, you should be the outlet to getting me that."
"Maybe if you made a bit more of an effort..." Lance began to suggest.
"More of an effort? MORE of an EFFORT? You've got to be kidding me. I've done everything to get the girl to like me except worshipping the ground she walks on. But, of course, you already do enough of that for both of us."
The door to the private dining area flew open and Justin stormed in, throwing himself across from Lance and next to Taylor. He sat, unmoving, for what seemed to be hours before speaking. "I hate her. I want nothing to do with her. She can kiss my ass."
"Justin, dude, I know you are still harboring bitterness over Britney, but there should be more constructive ways for you to handle-"
"Screw Britney. It's Reychal. She just - she's ... why - does she really hate me that much?"
"Well, Justin, you're not the nicest person to her either." Justin glared over at Lance. "What did she do?"
"First, she woke me up."
"Ohhh..." Lance and Taylor sarcastically said in unison.
Justin ignored them. "She woke me up by calling me. Had nothing to say except telling me to turn my radio on. I did."
"Oh no, not the radio! I hate it when people do that to me!" Taylor said with mock horror.
"I turned the radio on and heard two morning DJs dedicating a song to me. From her."
"So, what was it?" Lance questioned, not realizing the severity of the answer.
"Kelly Clarkson. She actually dedicated 'A Moment Like This' to me on the fucking radio." Taylor snorted, in an attempt to hold her laugh in. Justin looked at Taylor out of the corner of his eye. "I get no sympathy and I get no respect. No respect. I just... I can't be around anyone right now." Justin got up and moved to another table, ready to spill his story to someone else.
Taylor let a giggle escape but clamped a hand over her mouth when she noticed Justin's stare from the next table. "I guess Justin and I have something in common... no respect." Taylor knew it was a mistake before it even left her lips. A look of hurt briefly crossed Lance's face before she continued. "Lance, I'm so sorry." She reached over to grab his hand. "Just understand that I'm trying."
"That's all I ask for," Lance said with a small smile. "Which, I do have a favor to ask if you are willing to give it one more try for me." Taylor suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Quinn doesn't feel comfortable just having a bodyguard pick her up, so..."
"You're asking me to go pick her up?"
"No, not exactly. I'm asking you to ride along with whoever else I can get to go. I'm going to try to convince Reychal to go with Mike to get her."
"At least that'll take the heat off me. Quinn and Reychal are like a couple of cats or something." Lance raised an eyebrow at her. "That was the last one, I promise."
"Promise me you'll be nice while she's here. Please Taylor?" Lance gave her the puppy dog eyes, knowing she'd never been able to say no to them.
"I promise," Taylor whispered, all the while wondering if it was a mistake.
"If she's not here in five minutes, I'm leaving," Chris announced, sitting up and staring intently at the clock.
Joey stood up and stretched. "I'm not waiting five minutes, I'm leaving now. I have better things to do with my time."
"I really don't think those teenyboppers in the lobby would appreciate being referred to as a thing," Lance pointed out with a laugh, stopping Joey's pursuit to the door.
Joey leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "You know the scariest part about that comment? I can't think of a comeback." He shook his head. "Forget it, you're not worth it." With that, Joey left the room, only to re-enter the room moments later.
"Decide not to face the wrath of Reychal, huh?" JC asked.
Joey lowered his head, not replying as Reychal walked into the room, just ending a call. She set the phone down. "First things first..." She pointed at Joey. "Fatone, I'm getting sick and tired of you trying to leave when I'm a few minutes late."
"Hey Reychal?" Chris asked, tearing his attention from the clock now that there was no reason to stare at it. She diverted her attention. "Has anyone ever told you that you would make an awesome dominatrix?"
She didn't let Chris' comment affect her. "As a matter of fact, Chris, you are the first, however, I can't say I disagree. My butt looks awesome in leather pants."
"Oh, so that's what you're good at," Joey mused with a thoughtful smile.
Reychal sighed, knowing that she had to pacify the immature comments if she ever wanted to get down to business. "Joey..." she shook her head. "That wasn't what I was referring to earlier today, but now that you mentioned it, I happen to hold a high opinion of myself, and I haven't had any complaints yet."
"Really? Do you think RJ would let me borrow you for a night?"
"Oh Joey, I don't think so. It would be such a change of pace for you... I'm actually legal." Joey lowered his head and Reychal continued to speak, changing the subject. "Now, if all the comments are finished, I'd like to get to the reason of why I asked to meet with you all." The room grew silent, waiting for her to continue. "As you all know by now, Mandy is going to have to cut out while we still have three weeks of the tour left, as well as cut down on the amount of shows that she'll be able to perform at, all due to promotions for her new movie." She took a deep breath. "Now, I've been doing some checking, and I think I've found someone who is an up and coming artist who I feel will make an excellent addition to the tour and our little dysfunctional family."
The room erupted into talking, speculation on who the addition was. "Who is it?" JC questioned.
Reychal ignored his question. "Hey, come on, shut up." The room quieted again. "He'll be joining us on Wednesday night and his first performance will be Thursday. He'll be going on before Mandy."
"Well, are you going to tell us who it is?" Justin interrupted.
Once more, Reychal ignored the question. "Now, if that's all and if there are no questions, I'll let you go."
The room grew louder with objections of her ending the meeting. Reychal held up her hand for silence. "Okay, you all have to promise me you'll keep an open mind, be nice, and help out where and when he might need it." The sound of agreeance greeted her. "It's not all of you I'm worried about. More like you five." She pointed to the members of *NSYNC who were sitting in front of her. She took a deep breath and prepared to break the news. "RJ Helton."
"Oh hell no!" Justin yelled. "Come on Reychal! He's not even a real artist! I might be able to see your point if maybe he was first runner up, but he was fourth! Fourth of all places! Couldn't you have gotten us a real performer as an opener? We want the fans to stay to see us, not run away screaming."
"Justin, he's trying to get his career off the ground, he has an awesome voice, and I think this would make to be a good experience."
"You're just making excuses so that you can have your boy toy on tour with us."
"Justin, I see your point and why you'd think that, but I think it'd be best for us to discuss this later, if at all."
Joey chuckled evilly as Justin threw himself back into his chair. "Fresh blood," he stated as he rubbed his hands together.
"Joey, you have to be nice."
"Oh, Reychal, you have to let me have a little fun. There's too much there for me to not."
"Like what?" Reychal challenged.
"First, he's short! He's shorter than Chris! Second, "American Idol." That says it all. It's a joke in itself. Third, he looks like he's about five. Fourth, can we say mama's boy?"
Reychal ran her hand through his hair. "I'm not objecting, but just... go easy on him... besides, Justin is a mama's boy and I don't see you all tormenting him."
"That's because we ran that into the ground the first month that we knew him."
"Whatever. Just don't run him off the tour." Reychal glanced down at her watch. "Okay, well, we're done." Reychal gathered her phone and notebook and headed for the door when someone called her name.
"Hey, Reychal..." Lance jogged to catch up with her. She gave a weary sigh.
"Fine. Take your best shot at RJ even though he's not even here yet to defend himself."
Lance laughed at her expression. "I don't have a thing to say. I think it's great what you're doing to help him out." Reychal stared at him. "No, really... I just wanted to ask you a favor."
Reychal was still on the defensive, waiting for some sort of slam. "What?" She cautiously asked.
"Well, you know that Quinn is flying in tomorrow..."
"Yeah, I saw her name on all the access lists for a couple weeks."
Lance nodded. "Anyway, I can't go pick her up. You know - you made up the rule. Anyway, she doesn't like just having one of the guards pick her up, so I was wondering if you'd mind going with Mike to the airport."
"You realize you're asking a lot here."
Lance nodded again. "I know, I know. I know you two aren't on best terms, but Taylor's going too, and I really didn't want them alone together."
"You don't trust Taylor, but you trust me."
"It's not that exactly... just that... I don't know. I just want her to get along with everyone. Please Reychal?"
Reychal stopped walking and stared at him in thought. "I don't have anything to hold over your head. I know you'll be nice to RJ, so that's not an issue." Lance looked at her with pleading. "Fine. I'll do it."
Lance smiled gratefully. "Thank you so much, Reychal. I owe you."
As he walked away, Reychal shook her head, more to herself than anyone else. "Lance, you don't know how right you are."
