| Fates 5 |
| "Lance, come on. Get up!" Justin's hands were on his shoulders, shaking the life out of him. "Hoop time. Get up!" Lance's eyes opened slowly. He squinted at the clock. "It's ten already?" he asked groggily. Justin nodded and pulled the heavy hotel drapes open, letting a bright stream of sunlight into the room. "Yup, and I wanna shoot hoops already!" Lance winced and covered his eyes. "Okay, okay! Let me order some coffee first!" Justin wrinkled his nose. "That stuff will kill ya," he commented, flipping through an old magazine laying on the table. "Well, I don't care!" He got out of bed and managed to find his way into the bathroom. The image he came face to face with in the mirror was frightening, and it made him laugh. "If they could see me know," he grinned. His hair was flat, his stubble was itchy, and his eyes were bloodshot. A deep, red mark spread across his face where the pillow seam had imbedded during his sleeping hours. He looked a mess, but felt better. The previous night was at best a blur to him, and he suddenly felt like shooting hoops. "I must be sick," he said out loud. "Who the hell are you talking to in there?" Justin yelled. "No one," came the relpy. "Is my coffee here yet?" Justin pushed the door open a crack and handed him the warm mug, making a face. "I don't know how you guys drink that crap!" he frowned. Lance took the mug and sipped the hot liquid. "I like it," he stated simply. "Let me get dressed and I'll meet you down at the court. Go get JC." Justin smiled broadly. "Okay!" he agreed, running out of the room like a three year old on Christmas morning. Lance watched him take off and smiled. He considered Justin his best friend since joining the group, and even though he knew that he was about to get his ass kicked in basketball, he knew no matter what, he always had a friend in the younger singer. It was comforting. Lance dug through his bag and found some clean shorts, and fresh socks. He tossed a new tee shirt over his head, pulled his shorts on, threw on his socks and sneakers, and headed for the door. Once on the court, he easily slid back into his old self. JC and Justin were merciless, running him ragged, until Joey and Chris appeared. "Guys, you've been out here for almost 3 hours. We have an interveiw soon." Chris looked at the three of them, drenched in sweat, faces red, and shook his head. "It must be 100 degrees out here. Why are you pushing Lance so hard? Especially after last night." Lance rolled his eyes, and grabbed the basketball from JC's hands, executing a layup. "You all really need to stop treating me like a kid," he complained, staring at them. "I'm 20, and I'm fine, so please!" Joey nodded, snatching the ball from Lance's hands, and dribbled it. "Yeah, Chris, leave him be!" He looked in Lance's direction, making sure the kid had some color in his face, and tried to determine if indeed he was fine. He looked alright, so Joey figured it was just a bug. Deep down, he was hoping it was just a bug. The scene at the club had freaked them all out, and he had spent a few hours the previous evening with Chris telling him all about it. Chris chalked it up to fainting, so Joey had gone along with that as well. Chris stood to the side and tapped his foot. "Guys, let's go!" He shook his head as he noticed they were ignoring him. Lance squinted in the sun and laughed. "Okay, okay!" He looked at his friends who were starting up a small game, and jumped in stealing the ball. "Come on, we gotta go," he admonished. Justin frowned. "Why? I want to play more!" JC grabbed a towel from his bag and wiped the sweat from his face. "Later, J. Chris is right. We need to get back to work." Justin adjusted the baseball cap on his head and sighed miserably. "I guess," he grumbled. "But sometimes I just wish..." His voice trailed off, not wanting to say aloud what he was thinking. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for this amazing chance he'd been given in life, but he couldn't help but wonder if he would have been better off being a normal kid. Looking down at his very expensive watch, he smiled a bit, knowing he could never afford something as nice as that being normal. Sauntering off the court with his friends, he felt better and prepared himself mentally for the interveiw. Inside the lobby, the five of them stood in an unformal circle, planning. JC checked his watch. "I guess we meet down here in twenty minutes then?" Lance nodded. "Yup, then we can take the limo over to the press area. Only one interveiw is set?" Their road manager was just coming in from the pool area and overheard the conversation. He approached, shaking the water from his head. "Nope, we scheduled four more for this time. It's easiest to get them all done at once." Justin groaned. "Great! Just great!" he pouted. "So, we're like stuck for hours now." Chris shot him a look. "You know, why the hell are you even in this group when all you do is complain?" "Hey, not now," JC warned. "Come on, it's going to go really fast. Don't worry, we should still be back by dinner right?" They all turned to look at Mike. He nodded. "I would say so. We promised you some relaxation time, so I'll limit their time with you. How's that Justin?" Justin nodded silently, and went off to the elevators. "Remember, J! Twenty minutes." Justin ignored Chris' voice and hit the button for his floor. "Wait up!" Lance called, and Justin stuck his hand out to block the doors from closing. "Dude, you okay?" he asked his younger friend. "Yeah, just wishing....I don't know. It's not important. How are you feeling?" Lance sighed, feeling better, but still a bit flushed. "Good. I didn't mean to scare everyone. I don't really remember too much, but honestly, I didn't sleep well last night." Justin nodded, sympathetically. He was still concerned for Lance. "Well, whatever it was, I hope it's gone now. You were just so spaced out at the club with that chick." "Olivia," The name slid out of his mouth involuntarily, and Lance felt queezy once more. "Justin, I don't feel too good." He grasped his stomach, and leaned against the wall. Justin dropped his towel, and put his arm on Lance's shoulder. "Breathe," he commanded. "Shit, man, you look pale again." He pressed the floor button over and over, willing it to move faster. "Lance, just relax. You'll be okay." The doors opened, and Justin helped Lance out and down the hall to his room. "Sit on the bed." Lance did as he was told, and felt his vision blur slightly. "Damn, Lance, what's going on with you?" Lance shrugged helplessly as Justin dialed their manager and told him what happened. Within minutes, Lance was surrounded once again with not only Mike, but all four of his band mates. He had tried to sit up, but the dizziness made him fall back onto the bed. In the background, he could hear Justin whispering to JC. "I don't know. He just got really dizzy again. I laid him down, and he looked like he was going in and out. He got really white." Lance could vaguely see JC shake his head in worry. He closed his eyes, and tried to breathe normally. The medics arrived, and began their routine questions, poking and prodding him once again, sticking him with needles to check his blood. Lance tried in vain to protest, but he was scared this time. He didn't understand what was causing these spells and wanted them to stop. He laid there, eyes shut, wishing he was anywhere but where he was. An oxygen mask was placed over his mouth and nose, making his eyes fly open in horror. "What are you doing?" he yelped. The medic, a kindly looking older woman, placed her hand firmly on his shoulder. "Mr. Bass, we have to take you in for observation. We want to have some tests run on you to see why your body is acting like this. Now I need you to lie back and relax. Can you do that?" Lance panicked. He trembled and tried to rip the mask off. "No, I'm fine. I have things to do tonight. Really." His green eyes were wide with alarm and he struggled to sit up. The kindly older woman was a lot stronger than she looked, and held him in place. He looked over her shoulder at JC, Justin, Chris, and Joey. Justin was visably shaken and Joey was conferring with Chris. JC walked over to the bed. "Come on, buddy, it'll be okay. Let them take you and we'll see you back here before you know it." He looked at the medic. Lance's gaze followed JC's and he didn't like the look the medic gave back. Reluctantly, Lance laid back and waited for the stretcher. He shut his eyes once again, pressing them together tightly, trying not to cry. He wasn't a baby, and didn't like anyone to see him cry, especially not the guys. He heard more medics enter the room and talk quietly. "Why are you all whispering?" he asked weakly. "What's wrong with me?" His eyes opened slowly, and he peered around at all the faces, trying to read them. "Well?" he asked again. Justin bit his thumbnail, and looked away, tears filling his eyes. Joey smiled at Lance. "Come on, you're fine. It's just a precaution. We have a lot of promotional stuff to do and don't want you passing out in front of the fans." He sauntered over, trying to keep a happy look on his face. He leaned down close and whispered. "Want me to call your mom?" Lance felt a tear slip down his cheek and nodded. The medics lifted him and placed him on the stretcher, buckling him down. Joey quickly wiped the tear away, so no one would see, and grinned. "You're gonna be fine. We'll all be down to see you as soon as the interveiw is done." He squeezed Lance's shoulder. "Let's go," one of the medics said. "We're going down to General. Do you want to follow us? The streets are tricky." The road manager nodded, frowning. He didn't like this one bit. Not only was her worried about Lance, but Justin was not handling it well at all. Thinking quickly, he pulled JC to the side. "Listen, I'm taking Justin with me to the hospital so he can see for himself that Lance is okay. Can you three handle the interveiws?" JC nodded, staring at Justin, who was gazing miserably out the window. "Yeah, he's just freaked. Lance is like his brother. We'll take care of it. What should we say? I mean about where they are." The road manager thought for a moment. "Tell them Justin and Lance had another promotional activity to do. That'll hold them at bay until I can release another statement." He rushed over to Justin. "Let's go," he said. Justin looked at him puzzled. "What about the interv...." "You need to be at the hospital with Lance, so you know he's okay. The guys are taking care of the interveiws. You're in no shape to deal with reporters." He grabbed Justin's arm and gently pulled him from the room. "Thanks, Mike," Justin said softly. "I'm just concerned. He didn't look good." Mike nodded and the two hurried down the elevators to the back entrance where the ambulance was parked, out of fan veiw. They got into the rented 4X4 and waited at Lance was loaded. The siren went on, making Justin's stomach turn and they were off. |