January 16th, 1998

Having to wake up early the next day only to talk on the phone for hours was not something I was excited for. Seriously, where do these interviewers get their questions? What kind of toothpaste do I like to use? (Any kind that gets my teeth clean.) Do I prefer red M&Ms or blue ones? (Really, they don’t taste any different but of course blue. Duh!). Do I like to sneeze? (Sure, it’s like an orgasm for the nose), and so on. Really, you’d think they’d want to know more about music or my movie or my dancing or whatever, but they wanted to know about sneezing. People these days.

My appearance on The View was cancelled because Liam said I was doing too much at one time. Really, I wanted to punch the guy because I’ve been telling him that for days now but he wouldn’t listen unless someone else told him about it. It must’ve been Lynn since I complained to her about it. She was like another manager, in a way. Liam was scared of her.

After the phone  interviews I took the time to go to the hotel’s gym and go for a warm-up jog and then dance some of my stress away. I hadn’t seen the guys all morning, which was a good thing. I would’ve socked them all if I saw them. Well, not Lance. I wouldn’t dare hurt that baby face of his. Technically they have every right to be mad at me, I mean I wasn’t being very responsible last night, but still, they brought it upon themselves. What pissed me off was that they didn’t care one minute but the next they did and I didn’t know where I stood with them. Was I their friend or was I just seen as a little sister they could boss around?

“Take it from me; if you keep dancing like that you’re going to end up hurting yourself.”

I whipped my head around—in search for the owner of the voice—but wasn’t paying attention to my spin. I ended up losing my balance and crashing hard to the ground. I groaned and rolled onto my stomach. It was just as well, my ankles were starting to kill. Curse you, overpronation.

“Told ya,” Justin laughed, grasping my hands and easily pulling me to my feet.

“You’re talking to me now?” I asked, walking over to my towel that was sitting in the corner, careful not to limp in front of him.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Lance talked our ears off. Said we should chock it up to you being a teenager and you feel the need to rebel sometimes and blah blah blah.” He waved his hand in the air as if waving away his own words.

“Hmm,” I muttered, taking a sip from my water bottle. He just didn’t get it. He was a boy, I didn’t expect less.

“What’re you doing today?”

“What aren’t I doing? Recording some, talking a bit, I think a photoshoot too,” I replied, replacing the cap to my water bottle, grabbing my towel to dab the sweat off my face. “Why?”

Justin shrugged. “I wanted to come along.” He suddenly looked at the ground like a shy little kid. “If you’d let me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you guys have to get back to touring or something?”

Justin shook his head. “Promo doesn’t start ‘till late February, March maybe. We decided we’d just hang out with you. You know, follow you around like you follow us around.”

Follow? I fought the urge to rip him one and merely let out a small ok. The next thing I knew I was in a tight hug, that one Justin gave whenever he wanted to let someone know that he cared about them. The one that he only gave to a few people. “I’m sorry, ok? I was just worried. You can’t blame me for that, right?” he smiled that smile that I hated; the one that begged for forgiveness.

“I guess,” I mumbled, sighing. He beams knowing that he’s forgiven.

Again.

“Ok, so when are you going to JIVE?”

“In about fifteen minutes. I just have to shower and get changed.”

“Did you eat yet?” I nodded. “Mack,” he said slowly, scrunching up his eyes. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I ate some fruit.”

“That’s it?”

“And drank milk.”

“It’s no wonder you’re a stick,” he commented, shaking his head. “Lil’ D, you have to eat more than that. Have you been eating lately?”

“Of course! I’m not anorexic or anything,” I replied with an eyeroll.

“I just don’t see you eating anymore.”

“I don’t need to be joined at your hip.” That came out a bit more mean than I expected. His face remained the same but if it were possible his eyes crumbled in a way that his face would have but he didn’t want to give his hurt away. “Sorry,” I grumbled, running my hands through my hair to pull it back into a ponytail.

“It’s ok,” he said with a small smile. “You’re right.”

“Whoa,” I said holding out my arm. “Did you just say I was right? I’m sorry; could you say it a little louder into the recorder? This is big news,” I said as I held my hand up in front of his face.

He pushed my hand away. “Freak,” he muttered.

“Have you looked in a mirror, Mr. Big Nose Small Face?”

“Baby Big Ears.”

I gasped and covered my ears as Justin laughed and sped up a bit so he was walking ahead of me. “That was uncalled for, and I grew into them!” I yelled at his back. He just let a laugh hit me in the face as he started running down the hall towards the exit of the gym. I ran after him, successfully catching up to him. I managed to jump and land on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep myself from falling off.

“Those Oreos are bunchin’ around yer hips, girl,” Justin grunted.

“Shut up!” I laughed, burying my nose in his neck.

~*~*~*~*~

When I got to Jive I was basically sat down and told what the plan for the rest of the day was:  talk briefly about my promo (for my movie, my EP, and, get this, my tour. They just sprung it on me promising to talk later. Buncha hype-dealing bastards), do some rehearsals (rock and pop stuff), meet my new management team (all the way from tour manager to my PA) talk about my tour some more, and then go to my photoshoot and the day was over. Yeah, by like six in the fucking afternoon. I knew I asked for it when I got into this but damn! The least they could do was schedule a nap in there somewhere.

I only had a few minutes between the little promo talk and going to the rehearsal space to meet up with my band and my dancers. I co hand-picked them all. Liam wanted to get a lot of guy dancers but I fought back saying I wanted girl dancers as well. Then he tried to stick me with the over sexual kind of dancers but I shot that down as well. I wanted normal looking dancers, like me. I didn’t want this to be about selling sex or whatever, I wanted it to be about selling the songs and the dance moves. I actually made most of the choreography myself but I’ll admit it was hard without another choreographer there with me, especially with Liam criticizing almost everything I’ve showed him. He said he wanted a professional touch. Really? Was I not a professional yet? It took me a long time but I finally managed to convince Justin that he and the others didn’t need to come to my rehearsal but that only meant they’d go to my photoshoot instead. Whoo?

It’s not that I didn’t want them there, I figured the longer they were there the more comfortable I’d get. It’s just I didn’t want to hear them say something about what I was wearing. Joey, he and Chris would make everything funny by cracking jokes to help make me comfortable and Lance would probably suggest what would look better with what. It was JC’s and Justin’s reactions that I was scared about.

“Hey girl, long time no see!” I lifted my head from where I was sitting in the hall and grinned. Oreo and Little J, who had been dozing on the floor next to me, lifted their heads and jumped to their feet, tails wagging when they saw the person walking down the hall.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Britney Jean Spears,” I said, standing as she bounced (yes, bounced) over to me and gave me a big hug. “What’s the deal? We work at the same place yet I have to play phone tag with you? Has that little MMC stardom gone to your head so you forget the little people?”

Britney laughed and slapped my arm. “Shoot, you better be glad I came to see you at all!” She joked before hugging me again. “Look at you! How are you doing girl?”

“Let me put it this way: do you have a gun ‘cause I’d really like to use it right now,” I admitted.

She laughed. “No one ever said this was going to be easy. I mean, for you, they’re cramming everything into a couple of weeks and shoving you into the world.”

“Don’t remind me,” I sighed. “So why is it that you’ve never even seen Justin or JC while they’ve been here? They know I get to see you from time to time…”

Britney let out a small sad smile. She tried to hide it by turning to Little J and Oreo who were bouncing at her feet. “To be honest, I’m not ready,” she replied.

“Why not? They’re your friends.”

“I know, but I promised myself I wouldn’t see them until I’ve made something of myself and that’s what I’m trying to do.” She paused to kiss the top of the dog’s heads. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m doing this. Not really for them, I mean they’re a part of it, but mainly for me. I at least want to try and if I fail…” she shrugged. “It was all worth it, right?” I nodded in agreement. “Now, what was this I hear about you getting into a fight?”

“Wiiiith?” I prompted.

“Your guys,” she replied.

“They’re hardly mine, B, I don’t own them,” I pointed out. “And it’s just…I’m trying to grow up and they won’t let me,” I admitted with a shrug.

“Sounds like you need some retail therapy,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

“You’re not going to believe me when I say this…but that sounds like a good idea,” I sighed.

“Really!?” She squealed, clasping her hands together and bouncing on her toes. “Oh, that’s so great! Ok, we can go later. Around seven? I’m sorry I have to split but I just got here and I have to go straight to the studio. I’ll call you, ok?” She hugged me again (the girl’s quite the hugger) and bent to look at Little J and Oreo. “Bye bye, babies,” she cooed, waved and bounced off. I so did not miss her energy.

Chuckling, I grabbed my bag and ushered my pups into the dance studio. Shit, no. Liam, you. Did. NOT. I recognized that bass beat anywhere. By itself it had a weird, bone trembling feel. Something that hyped up the crowds that it was constantly played in front of.

I glanced to the mirrored wall and saw my band/dancers there. My band consists of Codie Simpson, guitar. Gabe Nichols, lead guitar. Lyric Williams, bass. And Sevvie Peters, drums. Codie, Lyric, and Sevvie are three of my six female dancers. The other three dancers were Bella Gold, LoLo Martinez, and Nikki Forrester. When Codie, Lyric, and Sevvie were dancing we had some other guys come in and play their instruments. Really, I thought it wasn’t needed but the girls were good and I needed them.

I dropped my stuff by them and the girls squealed as Little J and Oreo fought for their attention. “Why are we here?” I asked Gabe.

“Liam said it’d be easier to share the space,” Gabe replied.

“Why’s that?” I smelled a catch.

“Because Fatima’s your new choreographer,” he replied, apologizing with his eyes.

I twisted my mouth to the side. Was that supposed to be a blessing or a curse? For the three, turned practically fourteen, days I worked with BSB over the summer I worked closely with Fatima, learning how she worked the Boys. While working with her I became an assistant of sorts. Working with her was cool, but her working me? That scared me.

“Wait…” I said as I turned to stare at the side of Gabe’s head, suddenly noticing that he had little freckles running over the bridge of his nose. “How can Fatima be my choreographer if she has to work with them?” I demanded. Gabe’s eyes shifted in my direction and a whistling sound came out of his mouth from the gap between his two front teeth. It suddenly hit me. “Gabriel…”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell,” he sighed. “Liam wanted to tell you. He doesn’t know about your fight.”

“I all ready know so you might as well tell me what it is,” I hissed. “Am I going on tour with them?”

“You’re opening for them, yes.”

“Damn. Fuck, Merde, even!” I grumbled, watching the five guys move around through their own rehearsal. I crossed my arms and slumped as much as I could. AJ was over zealous as usual; he was a bit too fast. Howie was practically running into Kevin and Brian and Nick weren’t putting their all into it. I’m surprised ‘Tima wasn’t at their throats.

“So, you finally got the good news?” Fatima asked me as she put the guys on their break.

“Which part’s good?” I asked warily.

“Working with me of course,” she replied lightly punching me in the shoulder.

“’Tima, you might as well say and/or ask me what you’re going to say or ask because I know what’s coming,” I sighed.

She motioned for me to follow her with a tilt of her head. I ordered the dancers to watch my dogs before following her. She grabbed a water bottle and tossed it to me on the way out of the dance studio and into the hall. “Look, last night the guys explained to me what happened. AJ, I know you two didn’t get off on the right foot at first but he respects you, believe it or not.” I made a grunting sound and she pushed her braids. “What he said…it was a bunch of bull. He was probably drunk or high or something, something enough that I could beat his ass for, but not once did he ever say anything bad about you. None of the guys did, they sung praises about you respecting you not only as a person but as another choreographer and someone they work with.”

“Spitting out that you hate someone doesn’t come from nowhere, Fatima,” I pointed out.

“But it could come from someone else’s mouth, someone influential,” Fatima replied.

“I’m not buying it, you’re wasting your breath,” I sighed.

“Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because they hurt me!” I spat. I blinked rapidly, feeling like a loser because I was about to start crying all over again. My eyes still stung slightly from crying all last night. “I had to deal with haters since I moved to Florida and I thought I was over it but obviously I’m not. What’s worse is the fact that I thought they were my friends. I mean, they were my friends when I needed to be away from my guys. They didn’t make fun of me all the time, they didn’t judge me, and they just…treated me like a normal person. And then they go around and pull this…shit. I should’ve known they were just using me.”

“Wake up, girl!” Fatima said fiercely. I raised my eyebrows. She’s never raised her voice at me before. “When they heard that you had signed on to work with them they were excited. Ecstatic, even. They weren’t even the ones who put you two together. It was Johnny’s idea; he set the whole thing up. So stop crying over something that’s not even there! They didn’t use you and they wouldn’t use you, they’re not that type of people and you know it!” Her eyes were blazing and she looked like she was about to smack me in the face. Kristin and Leighanne said almost the same thing to me last night but I was too stubborn to believe them. At the time they hadn’t mentioned Johnny but now it was all coming back. Johnny had said something about it back in Germany…

Shit.

“Can we just rehearse?” I asked.

A shadow of a smile formed on Fatima’s face. “I’m going to run you into the ground.” I followed her back into the dance studio, my girls were in a circle on the floor stretching as the Backstreet Boys sat off where they were before. I nodded to Gabe who nodded back and motioned to the others to take their place by their instruments. “I want to see what you have so far before we do anything else, ok?” Fatima asked. I nodded and took the headmic that Codie was holding out to me, trying to avoid looking at the mirrors. “You’re going to have to face them eventually,” she commented as the sirens of the first dance track came on.

“I know,” I replied, getting into my starting position, smiling to myself. The song was a great female empowered song, I managed to get my way a bit and have it heavy with rock styles so it was a great fuse of pop and rock and I got to try my hand at rapping, with the help of Justin and Chris for some of the lyrics. All and all I thought it was a great track.

Don't live a lie, this is your one life ooh

Don't live it like you won't get lost

Just walk just walk

It's a liberty walk, it's a liberty walk

It's a liberty, liberty, liberty

It's a liberty walk, it's a liberty walk

It's a liberty, liberty, liberty

Here's to all the boys tryin’ to hold you back

Tryin to make you feel like you’re less than that

Got nothing more better than to make you crack

But really just tryin’ to put your dreams off track

And you know in the end it'll be okay

Cause all that really matters are the steps you take

And everything else falls into place

There's no price to pay, I say…

I moved though the beats and rhythms of the song, glancing out of the corner every now and then to see big smiles on my girls faces although their eyes were filled with concentration, as were mine reflected in the mirror. We hit the steps and the moves hard, putting all of our energy into the song as I continued to sing, making sure to keep my breathing right. Usually dancing helped clear my head but having five pairs of eyes on me only made the guilt and pain and Fatima’s words go swirling through my brain. She could say all she wanted; I wasn’t going to apologize first.

~*~*~*~*~

“’Tima!” I groaned, feeling my arms quake and my back bend from the strain on it. “Pleeeeaaaaseeee,” I begged, wishing I could wipe my sweaty palms.

“Not until you say it,” Fatima replied from my back.

“Come on! This is torture!” I stared at the little puddle of sweat that was on the floor from the sweat that was dripping from my nose. As soon as we had gone through Liberty Walk a few times we went through my other three pop songs, Permanent December, Naturally, and Round and Round before we had moved onto my rock stuff. Then she had everyone do a series of brutal stretches and now she left me doing a plank in the middle of the floor as she sat on my back and said I had to hold it or else I had to apologize to the guys.

And here we are.

“Would you rather AJ sit on you while doing wallsits?” Fatima asked from above me.

“No!” I growled through clenched teeth, my arms wobbling like I was in an earthquake. “Come on! This is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“If you’d listen in the first place…” she said in a sing song voice.

“’Tima, you should let her up,” Howie said gently. I could tell he was biting his thumbnail—which he did when he was nervous—by how muffled his voice was. “She’s really suffering.”

“I’m just teaching her a lesson, Howie,” Fatima replied.

“What kind of lesson is that?” I groaned. “Never get you as my choreographer ever again?”

“No, never jump to conclusion.”

“Don’t you know? That’s my biggest flaw. Some say I’m quick to anger. It’s what happens when you’re short, you can’t keep your anger in such a tiny body, you gotta let it out somehow,” I tried to joke. Might as well give up, Liam’s not going to like it when I have broken arms. “Ok, ok! I give! Just get off me!” I cried out, my cheeks heating up at the admit of defeat.

“Say it!” Fatima ordered.

“I’m, uh, I’m…” I mumbled as my feet started to slide out beneath me. “I’msorryijumpedtoconclusionsandgotmadanddidn’tlistentoyouguysitwasn’tfairtoyounowGETOFF!” I shouted in one breath. Fatima got off my back and fell straight onto the ground, letting out a sigh of relief and breathing heavily. “Thank you,” I mumbled, pressing my cheek against the cold hardwood floor.

“You can go home now,” Fatima said from above me.

“I would…If I could move…” I responded. “Let me sleep here.”

“Girl, get up!” Fatima laughed, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet.

“Are you ok?” Lyric asked with a wide smile, her green eyes dancing, her bright red hair practically reflecting the lights from the ceiling.

“I’ll tell you once I can feel anything in my body,” I replied. “What’s with you guys? Aren’t you supposed to be my back up dancers? Whatever happened to backing me up?”

“I see she didn’t squish your sarcasm,” Codie commented.

“I’m fluent in sarcasm; it’s my third learned language. French, English, then Sarcasm,” I replied, counting down on my fingers, lowering my third and then my second so I could flip them off. They laughed and lightly hit me while I pulled my hair out of its ponytail. Ugh, now I have to shower again. “Ok, I have to split and work a shower in before going to talk to Liam and everyone. I’ll see you later. Keep practicing.” I then turned to Fatima and motioned her over with my fingers. “They’re burning holes in my head. Brain’s going to fall out,” I commented.

“Here’s an idea. Talk…to…them…” she said slowly as if she were talking to a kid.

“You tortured me into apologizing, of which wasn’t fair! I have weak wrists,” I said as she rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking first.”

“You’re too damn stubborn,” she called at my back.

“And damn proud of it, babe!”

~*~*~*~*~

My arms and legs throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I was so glad that Liam said we could use one of the comfortable conference rooms in the Jive headquarters so I could lie down. He and Greg laughed as I walked in with cement blocks for feet. They talked to me a little bit but left for a few minutes to round everyone up and now I was staring at the ceiling trying to decide if I had just gone through hell.

“Come in,” I called when I heard a knock on the door. I tilted my head back so I was looking at JC and Bobbie upside-down when they entered the room. Nope, hell just got here, I couldn’t help but think when I noticed the skin baring clothes that Bobbie was wearing.  The last two people I wanted to see. “’Sup?” I asked, tilting my head forward and wincing. Even my neck hurt.

“How are you doing?” JC asked, sitting in a chair, Bobbie perched on the arm rest, her arm hooking around his neck as if he were in a headlock.

I contemplated the question. “Ask me that again when I can move,” I replied.

“Rehearsals were that hard? What happened?”

“Fatima is what happened,” I replied. “She killed me and sat on me,” I replied.

“She sat…on you?” Bobbie asked.

What, are you deaf?  “Yeah, as in what Joey, Chris, and Justin do when they try to torture me into doing something I don’t want to do,” I replied. “Long story, either way I can’t feel anything below my neck and I don’t think I can move for days and I have to do it again tomorrow.”

“So…are you saying you can’t take what you dish out?” JC questioned.

I glared. “You better be happy I can’t lift my middle finger right now tu surprotéger personne gênante.”

“What?” Bobbie asked. JC shook his head.

“Sometimes, you don’t want to know,” he replied.

“Why are you here?” I finally asked.

“Am I not allowed to take an interest in what you’re doing?”

“I’m dying, now you know. You should be happy now I won’t raise your blood pressure or make you freak out over nothing all the time and I won’t get in your way,” I grumbled, picking at my fingernails. I hated hangnails.

JC clicked his tongue before looking at Bobbie and whispering something in her ear. She nodded and walked out of the room, stopping to blow him a kiss over her shoulder before closing the door. JC got out of his chair and stood over me before kneeling by my side. “Is that what you think?” He asked. I squinted my eyes a bit, silently asking what he was talking about. “That I think that you’re an annoying little kid who gets on my nerves all the time and gets in my way?”

“No Joshua I pulled that idea out of my ass,” I said with an eye roll for effect.

“You know I made a promise to not only Lynn but to your own mother that I would look out for you and as long as you’re underneath the age of 18 that means I’m allowed to tell you what I think you should or shouldn’t do. I know sometimes I’m being anal about it—“

“Sometimes?” I interjected.

“—but I don’t want to see you get hurt, which evidently I didn’t help yesterday. I apologize, not only for me but for all of us when we didn’t pay attention to you. I apologize for Justin treating you like crap and I apologize that you thought that you needed to get away from us instead of telling us what was bothering you. Lance said something about getting into a fight with the Backstreet Boys or something.”

“The kid can’t keep his dang mouth shut,” I mumbled.

“He’s just concerned. The way he explained it to us it sounded like you jumped the gun…again.”

I managed to cross my arms over my chest and grumbled, “I don’t always jump the gun.”

“No, but you’re quick to get mad over nothing. I don’t know what happened but I don’t think staying mad’s a good response. You’ll explode.”

“Not unless Fatima forces my cork out,” I replied. He stared at me. “The reason I feel as if I’m in a body cast is because Fatima worked me hard at rehearsal and then made me hold a plank and then sat on me while holding the plank until I apologized.”

JC laughed, “How long’d you last?”

“About seventeen minutes,” I replied.

“But you hate planks.”

“But I hate apologizing even more.”

“I’ll take that as your apology then.” I stuck my hand out but he pushed it away. “Nuh-uh, I’ve known you since you were twelve—“

“Eleven,” I corrected.

“No, it was twelve,” he replied.

“I was eleven.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Yes I was ‘cause Justin came around February and he was all ready twelve. I didn’t turn twelve until later that year, remember?” I protested.

He waved his hand away, not wanting to admit that I was right and said, “Either, we aint gonna hand-shake this away, we’re goin’ to hug it away. Now c’mere, you.”

“No!” I said as I pushed his arms away. “No, Jace, I’m too sore to move.”

“Fine, I’ll just sit on you then.”

“Don’t even think about!”

“Ok.”

Before I could move JC hopped up and sat ontop of me and screamed in pain. “Uuugghhh! JC, get off! I’m not kidding, get off me, Joshua!” he just laughed as I tried to push him off of me but he wouldn’t budge. “God, for a skinny guy you weigh a ton.”

The door suddenly opened and I tilted my head back to see my two bodyguards, Eric and Todd (aka Tiny), come into the room followed by Liam and Bobbie.

Bobbie stopped in her tracks and lifted an eyebrow. “What’s goin’ on, babe?” She asked, not taking her eyes off of me.

“Just makin’ sure we’re on the same page,” JC replied smiling innocent at me.

“Be glad I can’t extend my arms or your front two teeth will become Chicklets,” I warned.

“I love you too,” he chirped, hopping off me. “Have fun. See you in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving my hand, ushering him out then turned to Liam who was looking at me funny. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Ok, about this tour. I’m sure by now that we’ve decided a great plan is to get you to open for the Backstreet Boys on their current tour.” I nodded as much as I could. “I hope you understand our reasoning behind it.”

“They’re big, if the fans like their opening act and the Backstreet Boys can promote whoever opens for them then their fans will support them. It’s simple logic,” I said with a shrug.

“Good,” he smiled. “Now, what’s going to happen is your movie gets released on the 16th of February. Your single, Pressure, will be released the exact same day to help promote the movie and your EP. You’re going to go to your movie premier in L.A. and make sure to talk about your music.” I rolled my eyes. Duh! That’s a no brainer. “The rest of February and the first half of March you’ll be working on your stage presence and the whole bit, but you can do that in Orlando if you want. You’ll join the Backstreet Boys on tour March 16th in Europe. The day before you’re going to be part of the Orlando Bands Together benefit concert. Good?”

“Great,” I replied. “What else do I need to know?”

“Well, in the next four weeks we’re going to have to cram wardrobe ideas, stage ideas, press conferences, appearances, mini shows, radio interviews, phone interviews, the works,”  Liam said as he counted off on his fingers. Every time a finger rose I felt panic start to sink in. “Now, we don’t want to stretch you too thin which is why we have a few ideas for PRs for you.”

“How old are they?” I questioned.

“In their mid to late twenties.” Liam’s smile slowly faded. “Why?” He asked guardedly.

“I’d rather have someone near my age,” I replied.

“We all ready contacted all these people,” he sighed.

“Can I…think about it?” I asked quietly.

“Of course.” Liam’s smile was tightlipped and I bit my own lip. You can’t please everyone.

~*~*~*~*~

“Does that have to be that bright?” I mumbled, staring at the lipstick that was hovering above my face. The makeup artist smiled and she twisted the bottom of the tube a bit more.

“It’s what the art director wanted, sweetie,” she replied.

“Why…why not blood red?” I asked, holding my hands up as if to shield my face from the sun.

The makeup artist tapped her chin as she thought. “That’s actually a good idea. But if Marty asks, it was mine, got it?” She winked and brought up my chin. “Lips together.” I let out a breath through my nose as she rubbed the red stick against my lips and then instructed me to rub them together. She squinted and looked close to my mouth. “Ok, you’re good. Wait a few minutes before they put you in wardrobe. I don’t want anything messing up.”

“So…what do I do until then?”

“Listen to music or dance or eat, carefully!” She said as she stuck a finger in my face.

“Yes ma’am,” I said as I jumped out of the chair and started looking around at the sets they had up that I was going to use later. One was going to be against a blue backdrop, the other against a light purple, and I think they said something about wanting me to shoot some scenes outside too. “Hey, can I play this guitar?” I called, picking up the acoustic that I had spotted.

“Sure, I think it was going to be a prop anyway,” the makeup artist replied.

“Great.” I dropped down in the big red beanbag chair, amazed at how big it was, and started strumming out a little tune that’s been playing in my head for a while and then added lyrics that I had written on the way here.

First off I can’t keep a promise
I'm no one to count on at all
Add on that I'm a coward
Too scared to return your calls

But you don't care
You keep sticking around
While I'm acting a clown
You're bigger
Lalalalalala, lalalalalala
Cuz you're still here
Your feet stuck to the ground
Despite how silly it sounds
You're bigger
Than me
Lalalalalala, lalalalalala

Its known that I'm a liar
Often they're blacker than white
Add on my uncandid ego
No one’s less humbled than I

But you don't care
You keep sticking around
While I'm acting a clown
You're bigger
Lalalalalala, lalalalalala
Cuz you're still here
Your feet stuck to the ground
Despite how silly it sounds
You're bigger
Than me
Lalalalalala, lalalalalala

All the messed up things I do
Yeah I swear I'll make'em up to you
Before you go and have enough
Just let me make it better
I'll try to measure up
I'll try to measure up to you

I'll make it up to you

But you don't care
You keep sticking around
While I'm acting a clown
You're bigger
Lalalalalala, lalalalalala
Cuz you're still here
Your feet stuck to the ground
Despite how silly it sounds
You're bigger
Than me
Lalalalalala, lalalalalala

I looked up and blushed when applause reached my ears and I saw the guys, my guys, making their way towards me. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked, putting down the guitar and getting up.

“Since you picked that thing up,” Lance replied.

“What made you realize we were right?” Chris asked.

“Sometimes it’s not about who’s right or who’s wrong, Chris,” I replied. Then I put a hand on his shoulder, “Besides, it’ll be a cold day in Florida before I actually admit that you guys were right about something.”

“I figured as such.”

“Don’t you think that lipstick’s a little dark?” JC suddenly asked. I turned pleading eyes to Joey.

“I think its fine,” Joey spoke up, elbowing JC in the side.

“Thank you Joey, you were always my favorite,” I said as I hugged him from the side. He laughed and stuck out his tongue at the others as they collectively and loudly protested and started arguing with each other who my favorite was.

I laughed and turned when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Oh hi Johnny,” I greeted him. “What’s going on?”

“Well, right now I’m trying to figure out why they’re going to rip each other’s throats out,” he replied not taking his eyes off of the fighting guys. Justin and Chris were currently bouncing on their toes, waving fists in front of their faces.

“Well, I said Joey was my favorite and now they’re trying to defend who really is my favorite in manly ways,” I replied, shaking my head.

“Who is your favorite?”

“Ah, that they will never know,” I replied with a grin. “Besides, I’m a girl and if I can barely remember people’s names I’m not going to really pick which one of them is my favorite. Not for a while, anyway.” He then noticed a piece of paper in his hands. “What’s that?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.” He held it out to me. “Also they want you in wardrobe.”

“Got it,” I replied. “Oh, and don’t break that up any time soon. I wanna see if they actually take someone’s head off. It’s one less protective mouth I have to worry about.”

“Get outta here, girl,” Johnny laughed lightly shoving me away. I chuckled and unfolded the paper as I walked to the wardrobe room. A woman was telling me about my first set of clothes (a light blue and gray striped jacket, a red t-shirt, jean short shorts, and black vans) as I stared at the picture. It was a big picture of a butterfly but the whole thing was made of two words.

I’m sorry.