After staying at the hospital for what felt like an eternity, it was no surprise to Lance when he glanced down at the clock on his bedroom stand--only to find the dull red lights proving to him that it was almost two thirty; way past his bed time.
Stumbling towards the bed that laid in the middle of the room, one which seemed to be calling his name at the moment, Lance couldn't help but let out a yawn; one filled with pure exhaustion.
Afterwards, sitting down on the comfortable mattress, that was in the process of proving it's point as to why he got it two years before, he tried to remember the last time he felt this tired, this exhausted, this.....emotionally drained. Never...never in all my 22 years. He thought.
Sighing, he kicked off his shoes, that had felt like anvils weighing him down for most of the night, and began slowly undressing; a process that he wanted to get over faster than possibly, but with how his body was feeling at the moment--he knew it'd probably take forever.
Exhaling the sigh that he hadn't even known he'd been holding, he lazily threw his shirt and jeans on the floor; leaving his boxers-briefs and socks as they were.
I might as well take a shower now. At least that'll give me more time to sleep-in in the morning.Standing up, Lance didn't bother taking anything into the bathroom with him, he just made his way towards the shower; stripping off the rest of his clothes in the process--and stepped into the stall; taking the quickest, yet thoroughest, shower he ever possibly could.
When he was done, he turned off the water, and grabbed two towels from the bathroom pantry. Not bothering to dry off completely, he wrapped one towel around his waist, and used the other to wipe the steam off the covered mirror in front of him.
Taking in a deep breath, Lance couldn't help but note the exhaustion in his eyes which stared back at him through the mirror. From looks alone, he would have to say he aged almost ten years in one night alone, and he figured if all it took was catching your friend passed out on the floor to make you look older, he would've knocked Joey or Chris out years ago.
Smirking uncharacteristically at this, Lance stole another look at his bloodshot eyes, before turning from the mirror; heading back towards his room that connected with the bathroom.
Even though his plan was to crash, as soon as he placed one foot in the doorway, the now-annoying sounds of Jingle Bells went off; telling him someone, other than him, was up, and had nothing better to do than play Let's call Lance.
Grumbling a little, he made fast work of getting to the phone before the caller hung up. "Hello, La-James speaking."
Sighing as he realized he had almost forgotten the proper way Johnny had taught the guys to answer their phones, Lance mentally cursed himself; hoping this wasn't a crazed psycho fan.
Waiting for a couple of seconds, Lance realized he was being met with dead silence, and roughly opened his mouth to remind the, what he assumed to be, prank caller, what time it was. "Do you have any idea what ti-"
Before he could finish, a voice on the other line spoke up; increasing the anger that he thought had gone away..or at least he thought he had controlled.
"Blondie, you there?"
Tightening his towel around his waist, Lance took a seat on his bed before silently counting to ten; trying to calm his anger down; which seemed to be a lost cause at the moment. "Yeah, I'm here, Joe. But a better question is--where are you?"
Their was a brief pause on the other end, before Joey answered--in a hesitant tone. "I'm...I'm in Virginia."
Virginia?
That was it...that was the last straw.
At Joey's statement, Lance couldn't hold it any longer and kicked any control he had over his anger out the door, "Virginia? What the hell are you doing in Virginia? I've tried calling your ass ten times in the last three hours, and you're in freaking Virginia?"
Their was another brief pause before Joey answered again, this time his voice laced with confusion. "I'm sorry, man, I had my phone off. But I got your messages, what's up?"
What's up? Lance couldn't help but shake his head. Right now the only thing that was up was his need to kick Joey in his ass; but even through his anger, he knew that wouldn't solve anything. "Joe, what's up is the fact that you need to come back to Orlando. Like NOW."
"What...why?"
Rolling his eyes, Lance opened his mouth to say--because your supposed girlfriend is pregnant. But before he could, something stopped him; that something being the realization that even though he was Joey, and Melanie's friend, it still wasn't his place to spill all the details of their relationship--whether it'd help out the situation or not.
After pausing for a second, Lance reopened his mouth, and started again. "Melz was admitted into the hospital earlier tonight, and I know you two broke up, or whatever, but I still think she'd like to see you."
Their was another pause, this one slightly longer than the others--which made Lance assume that Joey was probably taking in what he had just told him; trying to get over his shock...but he had guessed wrong.
"Did she ask for me?"
"Did she....what?" Furrowing his eyebrows, Lance couldn't help but squeeze his towel in his free hand; causing his left palm to turn red as he tried to come to terms with what Joey had just said, "It doesn't matter if she asked for you or not, Joe. You should, and should have been there, regardless. I mean, shit, she didn't ask to see Bobbie or Dani, but they were both there--and so were me and the rest of the guys. Come to think about it, the only person who didn't show their face tonight was you"
"Well...it's not the same," Joey said, after a minute, "You guys are her friends, and I'm just-"
"Joey!" Lance interrupted, "You're just Joey, the man she's been in love with for the past three years, and the man that she, unfortunately, has built her world around. So, if that doesn't say something, then I don't know what will."
Letting the hold on his towel go, Lance waited for Joey to say something..anything really. But he was notably surprised and shocked when Joey finally did speak, "I understand that, but I can't, Lance...I just...I have to go."
Not bothering to catch the loose towel from falling towards the floor, Lance stood up from his spot on the bed, and threw an icy glare at the wall across from him; pretending it was Joey's face that he was staring a hole through, "You have to go? Go where? Where the hell do you have to go?"
"Look Lance, I..I'm sorry."
Hearing the familiar words that had played in his ears before, Lance couldn't help but grow angrier, and grit his teeth together as the line on the other end went dead; telling him Joey had not only hung up on him, but he had also cut his ties from him...and his friendship with Melanie, at the moment.
DEC 7, 2001
Blinking back the moisture that lay in her eyes, Melanie tried to concentrate on the man in front of her, rather than the metallic taste of blood that lay in her mouth.
"So, you're sure the doctor said you'll be able to come home with me, right? I mean, you don't have to stay here for another night, do you?"
Shaking her head for what felt like the thousandth time, Melanie eased the inner part of her jaw from her teeth's grip, before sighing with relief as the nurse beside her finished taking the sample of her blood, "No, I don't and Yes, I'm sure. But like I said before, I promised Lance I'd let him drive me there, so...you don't have to bother sticking around here any longer. I'm sure you've got other things to do."
Turning her head to watch the nurse, Joanne, clean up the area in which she had just finished puncturing, Melanie didn't have to make eye contact with Michael to see that he was upset with her previous statement. "I cannot believe you just said that. So, I don have to bother sticking around? Jesus, Melanie, you make it sound like I'm here taking pity on you."
Waiting until Joanne had finished cleaning up, and was making her way out of the room; closing the door behind her, Melanie turned towards her older brother--noting his tense posture and his darkened glare, "Mike, you know that's not what I meant. I was just stating that you don't have to stay here with me. I mean, you guys just got back last night, and I know you have a busy schedule and will probably have hell to pay for staying with me as long as you have already."
At this comment, Michael's glare softened, as he realized his sister was just looking out for his best interest, but still his posture and determined look stayed just as tight as it had before, "Well, right now, Johnny can kiss my ass and go straight to hell if he thinks sitting at my desk, taking a bunch of phone calls, is more important than staying here where I'm needed."
Sighing at her brother's stubbornness, Melanie wanted to argue that he wasn't needed at the moment, but instead she let her eyes travel down towards the light bruise on her arm; carefully sliding her fingers over the Band-Aid that had been placed on top of it, "I know you mean well, Mike, but there's nothing for you to do here. I mean, I already filled out most of the paperwork and the doctor has already given me permission to leave as soon as Lance gets here, so basically by you staying here, all you're doing is playing the sitting duck game with me."
Hesitantly moving towards the hospital bed, taking a seat in the chair next to it, Michael began to grit his teeth; knowing Melanie was right...but not wanting to admit it, "Well then, so be it, I'm playing the waiting game. I honestly don't care. And besides, I'd rather be here with you than at the compound; listening to some moronic secretary try to persuade me in letting Justin do some type of Christmas theme playgirl shot."
Quickly adverting her eyes from her arm towards Michael's similar, yet darker, green eyes, Melanie shot her brother a disbelieving glare, "That didn't happen!"
"No..." Michael began, his facial expression changing from a determined look to a mischief grin, "But I'm not leaving, so you might as well just sit back and shut up already."
Despite the events that had taken place less than twenty-four hours ago, Melanie couldn't help but shake her head and let out a slight laugh at her brother's attempt at dry humor. "Fine, you win, but don't think I'm not telling Mom what an asshole you are when we get home."
As Michael began chuckling at his sister's words, he couldn't help but comment on her use of language, "I have a feeling she already knows that, but I don't quite think she knows what a pouty mouth her youngest daughter has. So, hey, do whatever you want, but it's your funeral. Not mine, little lady."
Melanie's roll of the eyes and contagious laughter rang out through the room, but after a few seconds, both had gone to a slight halt when the door to her room opened. Her favorite person, at the moment, walking in; looking worse than he had when she kicked him out the night before.
"Lance...?"
Nodding in hello, Lance closed the door he'd just opened, before moving towards the bed; a brief smile lighting his face as he had been thankful enough to be greeted by Melanie's child like laughter, "Hey you, sorry I'm late."
"It's okay." Melanie said, after a second, with a slight frown on her face; noting the slight stubble on her friend's jaw and the bags under his eyes, "You were here almost all night and deserved to oversleep; which from the looks of things, I can't tell if you did or not."
Chuckling, Lance adverted his eyes from Melanie's worried ones, towards Michael's amused ones; giving the slightly older male a quick roll of the eyes, "Please tell me it's not just me, and she does this to you too."
Grinning at Lance's slight question, while ignoring the icy dont-you-dare glare that Melanie was throwing at him, Michael nodded his head; confirming Lance's suspicions, "Oh believe me she does, and just think... I've had to put up with it longer than you have."
"Ouch!" Lance said, feigning a sympathy look, before, once again, chuckling at Melanie's expense; which earned him, and Michael, a roll of the eyes and a tsk from the younger woman.
"Ha, Ha. Very funny, see if ever I let either one of you cry on my shoulder again."
Even though both men knew she was joking, well, half joking anyway, it still caused both of them to blush; knowing that they had done exactly that before...one of them not less than twenty-four hours ago.
"Anyway, Mike, did you need a lift back to the house also?" Lance asked, switching the subject, and causing Melanie to giggle slightly; "I can swing by the compound on my way there if you need to stop by and speak to Johnny."
Shaking his head, giving Lance a no, thank you, Michael turned his head towards Melanie; giving his sister a mock looking pout, "Well, I guess this means good-bye, and you won. But since, you don't need me to do anything for you at the moment, would you like me to bring you anything home? Candy? Food? Artificial flavored Gum?"
Laughing at Michael's slight plea to let him do something for her, Melanie shook her head; amused. "No, but thank you anyway. I have to say, I think I'm going to enjoy staying at your house for the rest of the duration of my pregnancy. I mean, if I continue getting this kind've treatment, I might as well pray I'm pregnant forever."
Chuckling at his sister's words, Michael rolled his eyes, before leaning in to give Melanie a slight peck on the cheek, followed by a mumbled good-bye which sounded more like You're crazy than a see ya later, alligator to Lance.
Afterwards, making his way towards the door, he stopped before opening it; turning around to catch Lance's eye, "Before I go, can I talk to you for a sec. I have an interview for you and Justin to run by before he fly's out to Tennessee, and I want to go over it separately so you'll both be ready for anything."
Lance nodded his head at the request, before turning back towards Melanie, playfully rolling his eyes at her; which caused her to smile knowingly. Realizing this was why her brother and best friend got along so well--they both believed in the line: Work hard and play harder.
Waiting until Michael had said his final good-bye and closed the door behind him, Lance hit the man, he had grown to know as more of a friend than as an event scheduler, with a confused stare, "So, what's up, Mike? I know our last interview was in Vegas, so what's this all about?"
"Follow me."
Leading Lance down the hospital corridor; refusing to say anymore or stop walking until the two men hit the private waiting room they both had sit in the night before, Michael took a seat in one of the chairs that lined up against the wall, before he began speaking again; this time in more of a determined voice than of his usual friendly neighbor tone. "You're smart, Lance...smart and direct. That's why I've always liked working with you."
Nodding his head, as he took a seat in one of the hard-cushioned chairs, Lance shot Michael another questioning look; not really knowing what the older man was getting to at the moment, "Umm, I guess thank you is in order?"
Smiling lightly, Michael continued on as if Lance hadn't spoken. "That fact being the reason that I came to you with this question opposed to Justin or Chris...or even JC for that matter."
Now getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Lance gulped slightly; sort've knowing where this line of questioning was going, "I understand..but what exactly is your question? I'm not sure if I'm really following you that well."
Michael cleared his throat, before arching his back outwardly; placing his elbows on his knees in a slight determined look, "Well, that's simple, Lance. I just want to know one thing--and that is: what the hell did your friend do to my little sister?"
Looking from Michael to the floor, Lance answered in the only way he could at the moment, "What friend?"
***Next part soon.
