Taylor leaned against the wall across from the baggage claim area and checked her watch for the umpteenth time. Lance just didn't understand what he was asking when he wanted Taylor to meet Quinn at the airport. Quinn had never been nice to her. Period. If she wasn't making snide remarks, Quinn was acting like some queen and expecting everyone to bow down to her every wish and command.
Her only consolation was Reychal's presence there. If it were a competition between Taylor and Reychal for Quinn's ultimate dislike, Reychal would definitely win. Of course, Reychal was ten times more outspoken than Taylor, and had no qualms about getting up in Quinn's face and exerting her authority. That was one of the things Taylor liked and admired most about the young publicist. She spoke her mind and had no second thoughts about it.
Sighing, Taylor watched the other passengers from Quinn's flight collect their belongings from the luggage belt. "Does anyone see Quinn? Because if the other passengers from flight 852 are here, getting their luggage, Quinn should be here too."
Reychal shook her head from her position a few feet away. "I don't see her but I'm not exactly looking for her, either. We're going to have to see enough of her highness these next few weeks. If I were you, I'd enjoy the peace while it lasts."
"I would, but I have to prepare myself to be friendly. I could really hate Lance right about now."
Reychal stared at Taylor like she had sprouted a second head. "Since when do you have to be friendly? And at least you're not alone. I have to deal with the she-Satan today, too."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "Since Lance made me promise to be nice. He doesn't get it. I try to be nice, but Quinn can't be nice back. And there's only so much pretending I can do before I want to shove Quinn against a wall."
"Violence. good. I see I'm teaching you well."
She snorted and glanced over at Mike. "Hey Mike, how'd you get dragged into this? You're not even Lance's personal bodyguard."
Mike looked back at Taylor and grinned. "Shane refused to come. Covered it up as protecting Lance while he and Jace went to the local mall this afternoon, but Randy could've taken care of both of the guys if he'd had to. Shane just didn't want to deal with the blonde bitch, and I don't blame him."
Reychal laughed out loud. "Mike. you rock! I need to hang around you more often, man. Lance hasn't heard you say that about his little sweet pea, though, has he?"
It was Mike's turn to roll his eyes. "No, and even if he did it wouldn't sink through. He's blinded by his attraction to Quinn, and notice I didn't say love because whether the boy wants to admit it or not, he doesn't love her."
Suddenly Taylor was extremely interested in what Mike had to say. She didn't agree, but she wanted to hear his argument anyway. "Right. Have you seen the way he dotes on her and acts like she's the most precious thing in the world? He's smitten with her."
Mike shook his head. "Infatuation and love aren't the same thing, Taye. She's there, she acts sweet when he's around, she's always there to hang on his arm when he has an award show or function to go to, and she's never been unfaithful, so he keeps her around, thinking she's the love of his life and ignoring the fact that she only wants him for his money and social status. But he doesn't love her."
Taylor sighed for the second time in five minutes and stared down at her shoes. "Why can't Lance have a girlfriend like Katie? She treats JC with respect, isn't with him for his money, and genuinely cares. Not to mention she knows how to treat JC's friends with courtesy, too."
Chuckling, Mike closed the five- to six-foot gap between the two young women and himself. "You wouldn't like Katie if she was dating Lance. In the six years I've known the guys, I've also known you, and you've never liked any of Lance's girlfriends. I'm not saying the feeling is unwarranted in Quinn's case, but even if Quinn was a saint you wouldn't like her."
Reychal grinned. "I bet you didn't like his girlfriends in high school, Taylor, either."
"Not like he's liked any of my boyfriends," mumbled Taylor.
"And you've picked someone he openly dislikes, now, too! From the way Lance talked about Chase yesterday, he's not exactly a saint himself."
"Chase is just insecure," Taylor tried to explain. "For some reason, he's got this inferiority complex, especially when it comes to Lance."
Reychal cocked her head to one side as she thought for a moment. "How long have you and Chase been dating?"
Taylor bit her lip. "Seven months."
"Seven months?" Reychal repeated incredulously. "You've been dating a guy for seven whole months... a guy your best friend actually knows... and you didn't tell him until yesterday when I prompted the conversation? Taylor, something is wrong with this picture."
She shook her head. "You don't know Lance like I do. Or Chase at all, for that matter. They don't mix well."
Reychal stuck to her opinion though. "I don't know. If Lance doesn't like the guy that much, I have my suspicions about this Chase character. Am I going to get to meet him at all?"
"I... uh... don't know. Chase doesn't exactly know I'm on tour with Lance at the moment."
"Oh this just gets better and better. Lying to both your best friend and your boyfriend? Tsk tsk, Taylor."
"I didn't lie!" she protested quickly. "I just... skipped a few parts. Seriously. Lance and I haven't talked about whether or not I had a boyfriend for a while now, so I didn't bring it up. And Chase. well, I told him I was doing some traveling for a summer job. He would've gotten worked up if he knew that summer job was with *NSYNC on tour."
"Just out of curiosity," Reychal began, going back to the previous topic of Lance and Quinn. "Has anyone tried talking to Lance about Quinn?" Taylor opened her mouth to reply. "Except you Taylor. Telling him you don't like -"
"Hey Quinn!" Mike exclaimed loudly, shutting Reychal up. She spun around to find the blonde strolling over to them. "Where were you sitting? Your flight landed twenty minutes ago. It took you awhile to get here."
Quinn ignored Mike's comments. "You seem like a big guy. Think you can handle my bags?" Mike set his jaw and walked to the luggage belt. Quinn looked over at Reychal. "Rachelle, right?"
"Reychal."
"Whatever. Here." She thrust her backpack into Reychal's hands.
"Last time I checked, I was a publicist, not a personal assistant."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn crossed her arms and glared at Reychal.
"It means that I'm not obligated to help carry bags." Reychal put her hand out with Quinn's backpack so she could take it. When Quinn didn't take it from her hand, Reychal dropped it on the ground before turning and walking to the exit.
Quinn turned to Taylor and raised an eyebrow. "What?" Taylor asked.
"My backpack."
"So?" Taylor asked.
"Are you going to pick it up?"
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Do you mind?"
"As a matter of fact..." Quinn turned back to the luggage belt, expecting Taylor to do it. "I do," Taylor finished. Taylor turned and walked to stand on the other side of Mike, putting as much space between her and Quinn as she could. She would have done the same thing as Reychal, but she didn't want to leave Mike alone with Quinn. Besides, she knew that as soon as Quinn saw Lance, their 'rude' actions would surely be reported, and the less Quinn had to say about her, the better.
The trio stood in silence, Taylor trying her hardest to look anywhere but at the blonde next to Mike. A moment later, Quinn spoke. "Those four are mine." Four suitcases, all of varying sizes with a feminine floral pattern, rolled by, Mike somehow able to catch all of them before they were out of reach. Quinn watched as Mike struggled with the four suitcases. "I hope you didn't park far."
"I'll be fine," Mike mumbled, clenching his teeth and taking a deep breath.
"You?" Quinn said with a short laugh. "What about my hair? This humidity is going to be hell on it."
"Figures," Taylor said as she stepped around Mike and headed in the same direction Reychal had left in. Mike followed her, Quinn spinning around to watch them. She rolled her eyes, sighed in disdain as she bent over to pick up her own backpack, and followed Mike's tall form through the terminal.
By the time Taylor, Mike, and Quinn found their way to the rented car, Reychal had already been sitting in the driver's seat for a good twenty minutes. Mike opened one of the back doors to throw the suitcases in, but before he could, Quinn sidestepped him and slid into the seat. "Thanks Mike! Always the gentleman..." Quinn gave him a small smile, but it wasn't hard to miss the sarcastic undertone.
Mike glared at her over the suitcases. "Rey, do you mind opening the trunk?"
Reychal didn't reply, just reached down to the small lever next to the seat, the light pop sounding as the trunk sprung open. None of the women spoke as Mike loaded the suitcases in the trunk and slammed it closed. Reychal stared out the corner of her eye, waiting for Mike to get in before she started the car. She glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing how Taylor had scrunched next to the door as far as she could to get away from Quinn. Mike climbed into the passenger seat, closing the door with a force that could have broken the windows.
Quinn leaned up between the seats. "Mike, have you ever considered anger management classes? I really feel that your slamming the doors could be a symptom of a more serious problem." Reychal started the car and immediately slammed it into reverse and pulled out of the parking space fast enough to throw Quinn into the back seat. "Hey!" Quinn exclaimed.
Reychal put the car into drive and glared at Quinn in the mirror. "Quinn, if I were you, I'd shut up and sit back."
The drive back to the hotel was silent, even on Quinn's part. The second that Reychal parked the car behind the hotel, Lance was out of the door and opening Quinn's door. He gripped her hand, helping her out of the car. Reychal slammed the driver's side door. "Hey Mike!" She yelled. When he looked over at her, she tossed the keys in his direction, pushed past Lance, and walked into the hotel without so much as a backward glance.
"Hey beautiful," Lance greeted Quinn, lowering his lips to hers. Quinn pulled away from him a moment later, fixing a wounded puppy look onto her face. "How was your flight?"
"My flight was great... it wasn't until it landed that things went downhill."
"What happened?" Lance asked, shooting a look at Taylor. As Quinn began talking, Lance slipped an arm around her shoulders, and began moving her toward the hotel.
Taylor took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. A large hand landed on her shoulder. "Hey... Tay... just... it'll be okay. He'll see through her eventually. Lance is too smart not to." Taylor shook her head.
"I know Mike, I know. I just wish he'd hurry. Quinn is all kinds of wrong for him." She shrugged. "Oh well..."
Mike chuckled at her helpless attitude as he used the key to open the trunk again. "Go lay down or something. Just chill out. Enjoy your day off," he said with a laugh. "As for me, I get to give myself another hernia by carrying these suitcases upstairs. I swear the girl packed everything she owns."
"Is that really a surprise?" Taylor laughed a bit. "Anyway, enjoy your evening Mike."
"You too sweetie," he answered as he pulled the first suitcase out. Taylor went into the hotel and up to her room, throwing herself down on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, her eyes eventually drifting over to her laptop on the table next to the window. She sat up and pulled it down in front of her, flipping the top open. She quickly connected to the Internet and signed onto her instant messenger, carefully typing in the MSSweetheart79.
"Please let him be on," she said to herself, waiting for her buddy list to load. She smiled in victory as the MississippiStud appeared on her list. She opened a new window and thought about what she could say to him. Finally, she just typed what was on her mind.
'So, what did she say about me?'
Lance sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes. 'Taylor, it doesn't matter. I wasn't there and I don't know what happened. Whatever did happen though, you aren't the only one to blame.'
'So she made it sound like it was all my fault?'
'Not all your fault. She had some interesting things to say about Reychal as well.'
Taylor sighed. 'Lance, we really need to talk. You deserve to know what happened at the airport.'
'I know what happened. Quinn told me.'
'Lance...'
'Taylor, we'll talk about this later. Quinn is going to be finished with her shower soon.'
"Whatever," Taylor mumbled to herself before signing off and flopping backwards on her bed.
Across the hall, Lance also signed off the messenger program and sat quietly for a moment, listening to the water running in the bathroom. He rubbed his jaw and quickly typed in the address for his FreeMe account. "Hurry up," his whispered to the computer as he heard the water shut off. It's not that Quinn cared who he got e-mail from, however, he figured she might have a problem with him e-mailing some random girl he had just met online. As soon as his inbox loaded, Quinn stepped out into the room. He smiled to himself as 'Sporkey' came into view as a new message.
"What are you reading?" Quinn asked, coming to stand behind him.
"Nothing," Lance quickly answered as he clicked the x at the corner to shut the window. "Just a joke Stacey sent to me."
Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder. Lance reached up and took one of her hands. Quinn sighed. "Tell me you love me."
"I love you," Lance replied, as if on autopilot.
Quinn stepped back and put her hands on her hips. "Look at me." Lance turned his head to look over his shoulder. "No, look at me." Lance turned the chair completely around. "Now..." she sighed. "Tell me you love me."
"I love you," Lance again replied.
"What's wrong with you? You just don't sound like you mean it." She stepped forward and sat herself on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. "Tell me something romantic." She buried her face in his neck and inhaled.
"Quinn Donahue, I never say something if I don't mean it." He lifted his hand and used it to tilt her chin up so he could look down into her eyes. "You're beautiful and I love you so much."
She gave him a smile. "Now, that's more like it..."
He searched her eyes before speaking again. "You seem awfully demanding tonight. What's up with you?"
Quinn gave a yawn. "I'm just tired from the flight. I was really hoping you weren't planning on doing anything tonight, because I just want to sleep."
Lance gave a half shrug. "Whatever you want babe." She crawled off his lap before going to the bed and collapsing with her feet at the top. "I, however, may run down to the bar and have a drink."
"Alone?" Quinn sat up.
Lance gave a laugh. "No, not alone. Don't worry; no one is going to try to pick me up. Well, they may try, but they won't succeed." He leaned over and kissed her before standing and stretching. "I'll see if Joey or Chris wants to run down with me." He consulted his watch before speaking. "Or, if they're smart and have already started to take advantage of their night off, I'll see if Reychal wants to go."
"Why not Taylor?" Quinn asked in a fake, sugary sweet voice.
Lance eyed her carefully before replying. "Why don't you tell me why you don't think it would be a good idea?"
Quinn smiled a little. "Because it would look really bad if I was here and you were spending all your time with her." Lance just shrugged at her. "I don't know if it's a good idea if you go with Reychal either though. You and her look like you could be kind of... chummy."
Lance gave a laugh. "Oh man, no! No way. Reychal and I are anything BUT chummy, as you put it. If you would notice though, she's the last person I mentioned about asking to go along." He sat down next to her. "Quinn, believe me here... you and Taylor are the only women for me." Quinn fought the urge to roll her eyes. He kissed her forehead. "Now, lay down, get some sleep... and I'll be back soon." He stood and hurried to the door, shutting the light off on his way, and quietly closed the door behind him. He leaned against the wall for a brief moment before strolling to the end of the hall. "I'll never understand women..."
Lance stopped at the first door he came to and knocked. He heard shuffling in the room, so he knocked again. Finally, he heard a loud, “GO AWAY!” come from inside. Lance rolled his eyes. So, Joey had decided to pick up a girl. He went a few doors down and knocked twice, not receiving an answer.
“At least Chris was smart,” Lance mumbled to himself, going to the end of the hall and stopping to knock on a third door. Lance waited for a moment and when he had raised his hand to knock again, the door was pulled open by a very relaxed looking Reychal. She was holding her cell phone to her ear and was talking. She gave Lance a smile and held the door open for him. She listened for a moment before speaking.
“Listen sweetie, I need to go. Duty calls.” She listened again. “No, Lance is here and believe me, these guys don’t come see me on days off unless it’s important.” She sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?” She made a face. “Richard, don’t argue with me.” Lance made a face as if to say, ‘oh, someone’s in trouble...’ She smiled. “Okay. Okay. I love you. Good night.” She turned the phone off and turned to Lance. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go get a drink downstairs or something.”
“Where’s her majesty?”
“Quinn is asleep. She’s tired from the flight.”
Reychal stretched. “Let me change and I’ll go with you.” Lance looked at her American Idol t-shirt and fitted jeans, her hair pulled into messy braids.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re fine the way you are. Come on, you aren’t trying to pick up guys. You’re just going for a drink with me.” Reychal thought for a moment before picking up her cell phone, ID, a twenty, and her room key.
“Well, let’s get going then,” she said with a smile. The two quickly progressed to the downstairs bar and took seats right in front of the bartender.
“What can I get for the two of you?” The young man asked. He barely looked old enough to drink, let alone old enough to be a bartender.
“Give me... a tequila sour,” Lance ordered. The bartender turned to Reychal.
“I don’t know. Just make me something. All I ask is that it’s sweet...”
“And girly, make it girly,” Lance added with a laugh. Reychal glared over at him as the bartender went to work on both drinks. It wasn’t long before he set a glass down in front of both of them. Reychal lifted an eyebrow and looked down at her drink. The liquid was pink and she leaned over the glass and sniffed it.
“What the hell is this?” She asked with a small laugh.
“That is a ‘57 Chevy,” he answered.
“And what exactly is a ‘57 Chevy? Besides that,” Reychal questioned, pointing at the glass.
“It is white creme de cacao and vodka. Taste it. You’ll like it.” He slipped a straw into the drink and Reychal eyed the glass curiously before lifting it and taking a sip. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“That is really good,” she commented before holding the glass to Lance. “Taste it.”
Lance took a small drink. “Wow. You’re good,” he commented to the bartender. “Tell you what...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty. He slapped it on the counter and slid it across to the man, keeping his fingertips on it. “Why don’t you keep the drinks coming until we’re done... and this is yours.”
The bartenders eyes went to the bill and back up to Lance. “And all I have to do is keep making you drinks?”
“That’s it. Just make us whatever you feel like making.” He pulled his hand back and the bartender reached out for the fifty, throwing it into a glass behind him that was also filled with bills of all amounts, immediately going to work on the next drinks.
“So...” Lance turned to Reychal. “When is RJ joining us?”
“Tomorrow night. He’s flying into JFK at like, midnight.”
“Why not earlier?”
“Two reasons... last minute flight and stupid person working for him.”
Lance laughed. “You could do better?”
“Damn right I could,” Reychal said with a giggle.
The bartender set two more glasses in front of them. He looked at Reychal. “Orgasm.” He diverted his eyes to Lance.
“Excuse me?” Reychal asked, getting defensive.
The bartender looked at her and pointed to her glass. “That’s an Orgasm.”
“Oh!” Reychal exclaimed. “I started to get offended there for a second. Even my boyfriend doesn’t give that command and get away with it.”
The bartender turned to Lance. “Dude, I’m sorry.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Reychal put in. “He works for me.”
“Technically Reychal, I’m your boss.”
“Technically, but I still have the authority to boss you around.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Technically.”
The bartender chuckled at their conversation. “That’s a Fallen Angel.”
“Thanks,” Lance gave him a smile and turned back to Reychal.
Reychal twirled her glass between her hands and bit her lip. “Can I ask you something?” Lance nodded and Reychal looked over at him. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but you know how I am.”
“Do I ever,” Lance said with a laugh.
“I was just wondering... if so many of your friends dislike Quinn, is it really fair to her or you to stay together? Do you see what I’m saying?”
Lance nodded. “Kind of. But, it shouldn’t really be about what anyone else thinks, right? Shouldn’t it be about how we feel about each other and have that be that?”
“That is true, but, don’t you ever wonder if there is a genuine reason for the anti-Quinn movement?”
Lance sat back and downed the rest of his drink. “I have wondered, but honestly, if you all would just get to know Quinn, you’d see she’s really not that bad.” Reychal raised her eyebrows and bit her tongue to keep from replying. “Besides, come on Reychal. If we all hated RJ, would it really make a difference to you?”
The bartender set two more drinks down. Reychal raised her eyebrows at him. “Scarlett O’Hara and a Wagon Wheel.”
“No, it wouldn’t make a difference,” Reychal stated.
“See?” Lance pointed out.
“No, Lance, it wouldn’t make a difference because I would know that there’s no legitimate reason for anyone hating him.”
“But there’s not a good reason for anyone hating Quinn.”
Reychal rubbed her eyes and yawned. She then grabbed the Scarlett O’Hara and drank almost the entire thing in one swallow. “You know Lance, I know I’m not an expert on the subject of relationships, hell, all I am is your public relations manager and you don’t have to listen to me if you don’t want to. But, I’ve seen alot, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t,” Lance replied, a little too sternly in Reychal’s opinion. She pulled the twenty out of her pocket and waved the bartender over.
“How much more do I owe you? I’ll have to go get more from my room, but I promise to bring it back.”
The bartender looked between the two. “Don’t worry about it. Anything past this is on me.”
Reychal gave him a smile. “Thanks.” She turned to Lance. “Don’t forget your radio interview in the morning... call time is 7:30.” She then turned and left the bar, leaving Lance to drink in solitude.
He took a quick shower, more to wake up further than anything else. Getting dressed, he grabbed his key and crept out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. A quick glance at his watch informed him it was only 7:30 a.m., but Lance knew Taylor would already be up. The question was; where would she be?
It was doubtful she was downstairs in the dining room. She didn't eat that early unless they had somewhere to be, and that morning Taylor didn't have any specific plans other than to work, most likely. So if she were working, she'd either be in her own room or in a general lounging area shared by the group. For whatever reason, Lance had a feeling she wasn't in her room, so he made his way down the hallway towards the other room.
Lance entered the "common" room sandwiched between Joey's and Justin's room and JC's and Chris' room and smiled when he saw Taylor seated on one of the sofas, typing away on her keyboard. Her hair was pulled up into a loose, slightly messy ponytail and she had on a pair of worn jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt. She had always been pretty innocent, but she looked even more so at that moment.
He made his way over to the sofa and smiled down at her. "Good morning, Taylor."
Taylor barely gave him a glance before returning to her work. "Morning," she mumbled.
Right then, Lance knew Taylor was upset. It had to do with Quinn; that much Lance was sure of. He couldn't say he was surprised. Deep down Lance knew Taylor and Quinn would never get along. Not unless Quinn became more trusting and Taylor. Well, Taylor really didn't bite back unless provoked. But she had promised.
He sat on the cushion beside Taylor and sighed. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"
This time Taylor didn't even bother to look at Lance, but continued with her work. Her response was short and emotionless. "No."
Lance plucked the laptop off of Taylor's lap and set it down on the coffee table out of her reach. Her reaction was instant. "Give me my laptop back, please."
"You're mad at me," he said, this time not questioningly.
"I'm working, Lance."
She reached out for her computer. To her frustration, Lance just pushed it further out of her reach. "It can wait ten or fifteen minutes. I think we need to talk."
Taylor rolled her eyes and stood, picking her still-open laptop up off of the short table before Lance could stop her. "There's nothing to talk about. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She tried to head back to her own room, where Lance couldn't stop her, but he was determined and blocked the doorway to the hall. Taylor tried to glare at him as he pulled the laptop from her hands and closed the top, but she failed miserably. "Lance, give that back."
"Nope," replied Lance, keeping the laptop in his grasp this time. "Not until we talk."
"And I just said, there's nothing to talk about. Quinn's very lucky to have a boyfriend who trusts her and takes her word over everything else. End of story."
He sighed. "Taylor." When Taylor turned to walk away, Lance grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. "Taylor, talk to me."
She just stared at him, with a gaze that somehow made him feel a lot smaller than he really was. "What do you want me to say, Lance? Do you want me to apologize to you? To Quinn? Let me tell you right now, Lance, that isn't going to happen."
"Quinn's..."
"Do you want to know why I won't apologize, Lance?" she continued, cutting him off. "Because I have no reason to. I wasn't rude, nasty, or even sarcastic with Quinn. I barely said more than five words to her. You wanted me to be nice to Quinn, and I promised to bite my tongue. If Quinn had anything to be upset with me over, it was the fact that I wouldn't carry her backpack."
"Why couldn't you have helped her?"
Taylor gave Lance a bored look. "She didn't need any help, Lance. Mike had all of her luggage - the only thing Quinn had left to carry was her backpack." She paused and shook her head at that night's events. "Besides, I'm not her personal assistant."
Lance shook his head. "I didn't say..."
"You wanted me to help her out. And you KNOW that if she'd needed it I would've helped out, regardless of my opinion of her."
"Taylor, I-"
She shook her head. "Forget it. I'm tired; I'll talk to you later." Taylor made another attempt for her laptop but once again failed.
"I'm not letting you leave while you're still mad."
Taking a deep breath, Taylor stared up at Lance. "You don't get it, Lance, do you? I'm not mad. I wasn't mad to begin with. But let me tell you, the fact that we've been best friends since we were both seven years old and yet you're taking your girlfriend's word over mine makes me feel like crap." Lance's jaw dropped and Taylor took that opportunity to snatch her laptop and hurry out of the room. She practically jogged down the hall to her room and walked in, closing the door behind her none too lightly and surprising Reychal. Taylor quickly locked the door, eliciting Reychal's curiosity.
"Taylor? What are you doing?"
Taylor set the laptop down on the table and collapsed on her bed. "I'm not here."
Reychal raised an eyebrow. "Why aren't you here?"
The young woman buried her head in her pillow. "I'm just not. In fact-" A knock from outside the door interrupted her. "Don't answer that, Reychal."
"Why not?" Reychal asked, laughing.
"Just don't," mumbled Taylor. "If you have any sympathy for me at all."
"Taylor?" they heard from the hallway. "Taylor, open the door."
Reychal grinned. "Lance, huh? This could be interesting." Despite Taylor's previous pleas, Reychal unlocked and opened the door. "Well hello there, Lance. What can I do for you?"
He craned his neck past Reychal. "Is Taylor here?"
"No," she replied, pointing directly to Taylor's bed.
Lance stepped into the room and walked over to the bed as Reychal watched with interest. "Taylor, can we please talk?"
"Lance, I'm tired," she muttered into the pillow.
"I thought you had to work," he reasoned.
"Talking to you wore me out. I'm taking a nap."
He sighed. "Taylor, please."
Reychal's head moved back and forth, watching the two as though they were competing in a tennis tournament. She wasn't quite sure what the disagreement was about, but it was amusing to say the least. Taylor and Lance didn't really argue very often - their disagreements tended to be minor. The only subject they disagreed strongly about was Quinn. If that were the case this time, Lance was in for it because Taylor had not seemed happy from the moment Quinn arrived to the time they reached the hotel. After that, Reychal wasn't sure because she'd gotten out of there before anyone could say anything to her.
"No. I'm done talking."
"Taylor will you just look at me so I can apologize?"
Slowly Taylor turned her head to look up at Lance. Lance could see the hurt in her eyes, and he felt even guiltier. "I'm sorry, Taylor. I should have talked to you before jumping to conclusions."
Taylor stared at him silently for a few seconds before restating her question from the night before in a soft voice. "What did Quinn say about me?"
He shook his head. "Why do you want to know?"
"Please?"
Lance finally caved. "Quinn said you and Reychal wouldn't help her with any of her bags, and that Reychal was... well... being Reychal, to put it nicely." He ignored the glares from Reychal's direction as the other young woman struggled to bite her tongue.
"Anything else?"
"She said you were giving her mean looks."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "I didn't look at her long enough to glare or make faces."
"I know," assured Lance. "Quinn just gets insecure sometimes, and she makes assumptions about the intentions and actions of others." He paused. "I really am sorry. You've never given me reason not to trust you."
Sitting up, Taylor tucked her feet beneath her legs. "Thank you."
"So, do you think you can forgive me?"
Taylor smiled. "Don't I always?"
He stared at her in surprise, digesting her implications. "Brat," he said, his eyes twinkling.
"Dork," she countered. "I suppose you're going to break out the hugs now, huh?"
"You're so smart," Lance told her, wrapping his arms around her. "You're my bestest friend in whole world. I'm lucky I have you."
Taylor had squeezed him when he told her she was best, but Lance's last statement made her giggle. "Darn right you are." She pulled back and sighed softly. "So where is Quinn this morning?"
Lance smiled gratefully at the lack of sarcasm in Taylor's voice. "Still asleep when I left. She was up late last night."
"Okay, far too much information, Lance," Taylor said quickly, scrunching up her nose.
"I didn't mean like that, Taylor. Your mind in the gutter today?"
She held up her hands in defense. "Hey, I know you and Quinn don't have a purely innocent relationship. I just don't want to hear about it."
Somehow Lance hadn't expected Taylor to know that much about his relationship with Quinn, but he really shouldn't have been surprised. They were best friends, after all, and Lance had a pretty good idea of the extent of Taylor's relationship with Chase. After all, Chase wasn't exactly the noblest of guys. "What about you and Chase?"
"What about us?" Taylor retorted, arching an eyebrow.
"Are you implying your relationship is 'innocent?'"
Taylor folded her arms across her chest. "Yes. I am. Do you not believe me?"
"I do, I do," he objected quickly. "It's just that Chase doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to wait."
"Well, he respects my decision to wait."
He struggled not to roll his eyes. Chase Harding wasn't a gentleman and Lance doubted he was all that respectful of women. Something didn't feel right with the guy, but Taylor wasn't about to listen.
"I'd better go," Lance told her. "Quinn is probably up by now and she'll flip if I'm gone for long." Taylor smirked, but kept her comments to herself. "Are you going to be at the sound check this afternoon?"
"Of course. Aren't I always there?"
Smiling, Lance headed for the door. "I'll see you this afternoon."
Taylor watched Lance leave before turning to Reychal and rolling her eyes, sighing to herself. "Men."
Reychal looked up from her spot on the floor to see Joey standing over her. "Hey Reychal... where ya goin'?"
She started to pull herself off the ground when Joey reached forward, grasping her arm and pulling her to her feet. She brushed her pants off and narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
"You may need a designated driver."
"Joey, I'm usually YOUR designated driver and now, you're offering to be mine?"
"There's something wrong with that, huh?" Reychal nodded in his direction, checking her watch again. "In a hurry?"
"You could say that."
"Come on Reychal. Tell Joey where you're going."
She sighed and looked up at him. "JFK."
"Why the hell are you going to the airport at ten at night?" Reychal didn't answer, just bit her lip and looked at her shoes. "Why, could tonight be the night that the infamous RJ Helton is joining us? Is this why you were sneaking out?" Joey mocked surprise at the theory.
"Yes, yes, yes... okay? Yes. RJ's coming in tonight to join the tour and have to go meet his flight." She began walking.
Joey stared at her back before catching up. "Well come on then, we wouldn't wanna to keep the wanna be pop star waiting."
Reychal stopped in her tracks. "You did not just say that."
"Yeah... I think I did."
"Listen, RJ tried out for a huge contest and was actually voted to be one of the ten best out of ten thousand. I recall the rest of the guys saying that had *NSYNC held auditions, you wouldn't have made it. Second... you are not going with me."
"They were joking Reychal. And yeah, I am going. I'm not going to let you go out there alone. Besides, we all know he won't be able to protect you. You could kick someone's ass before RJ could."
"Joey!" Reychal exclaimed. "No." Joey nodded and stood still. Reychal sighed. "Okay, fine. You can go. But you have to promise me something."
"Maybe."
"Go easy on him, okay? Just chill with the comments. Be nice." Reychal patted his chest.
"I'll try."
"You will."
"I will."
"Thank you."
"Whatever," Joey mumbled with a pout as Reychal stepped around him and hurried to the elevators. She pressed the button for the lobby and tapped her foot impatiently. As soon as the doors opened, Reychal was out the doors and on the street, waiting for a taxi to pull over. As soon as one did, she opened the back door and slid in, leaving the door open for Joey who was taking his time, just to piss her off, she was sure.
The cab driver turned around and looked at her, whistling slightly as he looked her up and down, even though she wasn't wearing anything special. "Where to sweetie?" He asked.
Reychal gave him a look as if to say 'get real' before replying. "JFK, but I 'm waiting on someone." Reychal stared out the window, willing Joey to hurry up. Now, she was glad that he had volunteered to come along. A moment later, he left the hotel, strolled to the cab, and climbed in next to Reychal. As soon as his door closed, the driver pulled out into traffic. Reychal stared out the window for a moment, getting the feeling she was being stared at. She glanced over at Joey and saw him doing the same - staring out the window. Her eyes then went to the rearview mirror, only to meet the driver's eyes there. She scooted over a little closer to Joey and reached over, setting her hand on his knee. A second later, the cab stopped at a stoplight and the driver immediately turned around to steal a glance at the two.
Reychal let her hand drift up to Joey's thigh and leaned up, kissing his cheek. The cab driver turned back to face front, but a quick glance told her that he was still watching and staring.
Joey looked down at her. He was shocked and she could read the expression on his face. She immediately just looked out of the corner of her eye to the driver and Joey nodded. He shifted a little and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She leaned up, kissing his cheek again, leaning her head to the side as he buried his face in her neck. She had to make a conscious effort not to laugh as she noticed the driver become more enthralled.
Reychal giggled a little, in a teasing way, when Joey's lips began a trek over her neck. "Joey, stop!" She exclaimed with another giggle, meaning that she didn't really want him to. The cab came to a stop again, this time by the curb at the airport. Reychal scooted a little further away from Joey. "Baby, pay the nice driver." With that, she got out of the cab and walked into the airport, quickly finding the flight from Atlanta on the monitors. A few moments later, Joey caught up to her.
"First, for the good of all mankind, Reychal, please never tease and leave RJ like that." She gave him an innocent smile. "Second, you owe me twenty five bucks."
"Oh, it's not like you can't afford it." Joey and Reychal stood side by side in the airport, right next to the baggage claim, Reychal anxiously watching the monitors for incoming Atlanta flights. After a few minutes, her attention was torn from the monitors to the doors that the passengers were coming through. She stretched to see above the heads milling around when a big smile spread across her face. She started pushing through the throngs of people and as Joey watched on, she approached the one he recognized as being RJ. He watched as she pulled him into a tight hug, then, rolled his eyes as RJ leaned in for a kiss. He crossed his arms, pulling his hat down over his eyes more so as the two talked for a moment, Reychal finally nodding in Joey 's direction.
RJ's eyes went to Joey, then back to Reychal, giving her a smile and saying a final word. Reychal pointed to the baggage carousel, and Joey chuckled at the glow of admiration that entered her eyes when he leaned over to grab a bag. As RJ stood back up, Reychal grabbed his hand and pulled him over to where Joey was standing. "Alright, RJ, this is Joey, Joey, RJ," she mumbled as she introduced the two.
Joey looked him up and down. "Well, RJ... I've heard that you..." There was a hollow thump as Reychal's arm connected with Joey's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Never mind," he gasped as he gingerly rubbed his stomach where she hit him.
The three stood in a seemingly uncomfortable silence as Joey got his breath back and RJ shifted from foot to foot trying to balance the bag that was thrown over his shoulder. Finally, Reychal glanced at her watch. "Well, boys, what do you say we get out of here?" She reached for RJ's bag to help.
"Reychal, I think that's..." She pulled it out of his grasp and immediately dropped it. "... too heavy."
She sighed. "I see." Reychal turned to Joey. "Hey Joey sweetie, can you help? Please? How many times have I saved your butt? The least you can do is help carry this..." She gave him a pleading look before Joey reached out for the dropped bag.
He picked it up and slung it over his right shoulder. "Good God man, what the hell did you pack?" Joey turned around and stared at the two. Reychal had her hands on his cheeks and was giving him a long waited for kiss. Joey cleared his throat, making Reychal turn her head to look at him. "May we?" He gestured towards the doors.
Reychal rolled her eyes before taking RJ's hand securely into her own. "You'd think I do this all the time. But no... he doesn't even give me my moment. You know Joey, you didn't have to come along."
"No, Reychal, you're wrong. I did have to," Joey corrected.
"Why is that?" RJ jumped in and asked.
"Because, RJ, this is New York. New York city. At night. I couldn't let a gorgeous creature like Reychal-"
"Oh please!" Reychal exclaimed. "Joey, you can pry your lips off my ass now..."
Joey ignored her. "-go out alone. Besides, she was picking you up and we all know that you wouldn't be able to protect her."
"I couldn't?" RJ questioned.
"It's questionable," Joey continued with a smile. "And also... I wanted to be the first to welcome you to the tour."
"Oh, give me a break!" Reychal exclaimed again as they stopped at the curb to wait for a taxi. "Joey, you are so full of it." Before Joey could reply, a taxi stopped for them. Joey opened the door for Reychal, letting her slide in first. Then, Joey stepped in front of RJ, scooting over until he was in the middle, leaving RJ no choice but to sit on the other side of him. "Joey, why do you insist on making me hate you?"
He turned to her, leaning over and giving her a big sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Because it's so fun, and no matter how hard you try, you can't hate me. Justin's the only one that has that privilege." Reychal lifted a hand and wiped the spit off her cheek.
"Kissing like that, I'm amazed that you can get dates."
The two looked over as RJ stifled a laugh at the event. Joey leaned over to do the same to him, RJ stopping him with a hand. "Don't even think about it."
Joey sat back in the seat, crossing his arms and doing his best pout. Finally, Joey spoke. "You know, RJ, 'N Sync tours are very... special. We're like a big family. In the words of our dear Reychal, dysfunctional, but yes, a family. Each person brings something different to the tour and everyone is needed to make the tour great."
"Joey, what exactly are you getting at here?" RJ asked. The taxi rolled to a stop in front of the hotel and Reychal opened her door and jumped out, waiting for the other two. She reached in and gave the driver the money for the trip and as he drove away, the three progressed to the hotel. Before they entered the lobby, Joey stopped, grabbing RJ's arm.
"What I'm getting at is... uh..." He hesitated for a second as if contemplating whether it would be a smart move before he pulled RJ to him a in a hug. "Welcome to the family."
