| Fates 4 |
| Chris was strolling through the lobby when the limo pulled up. He was surprised to see them back so soon and hurried out to meet them. "What's up?" Justin climbed out first, shaking his head. Lance was next, an increasingly distant look in his eyes. Chris squinted at his friends. "What the hell happened?" he asked. Joey got out and put his hand on Chris' shoulder. "Long story. Let's grab a beer and I'll fill you in." JC followed and grabbed the back of Lance's shirt. "Upstairs," he commanded, looking over at Justin. "A little help here!" he demanded angrily. Justin sighed and trailed behind the two, to the elevators and up to Lance's room. Once inside, JC deposited Lance on the bed and dialed the road manager, requesting a doctor. Within minutes, at least a dozen people crowded into the singer's room. Lance laid on the bed, consumed with thoughts of the club, and his reaction to seeing the girl. The doctor asked him a series of questions to which he kept replying, "I'm fine." His cell phone rang, and to his dismay, it was his mother. He quickly learned that JC had called her. After several minutes of trying to convince her that he was fine, she gave up and let him go. He jumped up abruptly. "Get out!" he shouted. All the noise in the room stopped immediately. The doctor looked a him. "Mr. Bass, you're not feeling well. I recommend..." Lance flung open the door to his room. "Get out," he repeated, in a bit gentler tone. "Please, I just need some rest." The doctor shook his head and scribbled a prescription. "I think this will help you. It looks like you may have the flu. Your ears appear to have some fluid in them which could cause diziness. You need to rest up." Lance nodded, exhausted, and ushered the medics out. His road manager stared hard at him. "Want me to stay?" he asked with concern. Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "No, I'm just going to sleep. I'll be all right." He looked at JC and Justin, shaking his head. "Really, JC, you had to call my mother? How the hell old do you think I am? I can take care of myself." He waited for Mike to leave the room, then slammed the door hard, laying down on his bed. Justin sat next to him, trying to find the right words to convey how worried they were about his actions. "Look, we don't understand what's goin on, that's all. Talk to us." JC nodded in agreement. "No offense, but the scene in the club was freaky. I mean, with that girl." "Olivia," Lance mumbled. "So you do know her?" JC asked. Lance adjusted the pillow under his head. "No. I mean yes." He shut his eyes and thought. "Do you guys ever remember meeting her? Like at an after party, or meet n greet?" Justin grinned. "I think I'd remember someone as fine as her." Lance's eyes flew open. "Don't talk about her like that. She's not one of your bimbos." "Sorry," Justin stammered, taken back by the outburst. "What gives?" He started chewing on his thumbnail nervously. "I just don't know. I saw her and something inside me felt strange." The words flowed from his mouth and he looked at JC. Seeing his expresion made him realize he sounded like a lunatic. "Never mind. It's just this flu I guess." He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. "So, JC, you still shooting hoops with me in the morning?" "I don't know," he answered hesitantly. Justin grabbed for a pillow excitedly. "I'll do it. I'll shoot hoops with you! I don't care if you're sick or not. I'll whip your ass all the same." He threw the pillow at Lance's head and grinned. Lance rolled his eyes. "Great! Just great! Now I'll never improve. He'll hog the court. Come on, JC, please?" JC contimplated it for a moment, weighing the options. WIth Lance sick, he didn't want to push him. Seeing the desperation in his eyes, he finally relented. "Okay, but only if you promise to fill that scrip and get some rest!" Lance nodded. "I feel much better already. I'm going to crash now. Gimme a call in the morning." JC nodded and headed for his own room. Justin hopped off the bed. "I get to play too, right?" He looked at his two friends who wee shaking their heads no. "Aww, come on!" he whined. "Please?" Lance finally agreed, and Justin tore off down the hall, smashing into Chris and Joey returning from their trip to the bar. "Hoops tomorrow to get Lance ready for the event!" he called out. Joey slapped his hand to his head. "None for me thankyouverymuch," he laughed. "I'm sleeping in!" With that, he opened his room door and slauted his friends goodnight. Lance chuckled and ducked back inside his empty room. He shut off all the lights and stripped down to his boxers, tossing a fresh tee shirt over his head. He laid down and tried to figure out if he was loosing his mind, or if he was just sick. "Olivia," he muttered, conjuring up the image of the mystery girl. His mind swam when he thought of her. He pulled the sheet over his head and tried to sleep.Her face danced before him, taunting him, and he rolled over with a grumble. "Olivia," he kept repeating. One eye peeked open, and he glanced at the red digits of the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Shit," he hissed, kicking the coves off him. He flipped on the television and aimlessly clicked through the channels, hoping for a good movie to shut his brain down for the night. Hours wore on. Lance felt the sting of his tired eyes and saw dawn approaching. He peered out the window over the city and sighed. His lips had repeated her name over and over again, all night long. He rubbed his chin and felt the stubble. Exhausted, he laid back down and drew the covers tightly around him. Surprisingly, sleep came. He drifted off into a deep slumber, never hearing his wake up call. Nor did he hear the insistant banging on his hotel door. |