Under Pressure

Chapter 1

I don't even know why I went into the coffee shop to begin with. I don't even like coffee. I guess I just needed to get away, and the 'Cozy Coffee Shop' just sounded ... well, I don't know, cozy. I thought I could just take some time out from the everyday hustle and bustle of my life. The only thing I succeeded in was making that hustle and bustle even more crazy than it already had been. I've discovered I have a gift for that.

It was one of those mornings when all you wanted to do was curl up in front of the fireplace with a big mug of hot cocoa. Of course, the hotel we were staying at didn't have a fireplace, and they didn't serve hot cocoa at six in the morning. Only crazy people got up that early without a choice. Like me. I couldn't sleep. And I wasn't about to lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to Brian's peaceful breathing in the other bed. I had to get out or I'd go nuts.

So I got up, showered and was dressed in fifteen minutes, ready to go. I think that was a record for me this early in the morning. If only the guys could see me now. I looked out the window, for the first time noticing the fact that the sky looked ready to explode with rain. I grabbed a blue hooded sweatshirt of Brian's off the back of the chair and pulled it over my head. I wasn't about to waste time digging through my pile of junk to find my jacket. I saw some bills on the dresser and grabbed those too, stuffing them in my pocket. Hey, what Brian didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The coffee shop was the only place on the street I figured I could go. I mean, the 'Laundromatic Masters' and 'Poppa's Plumbing' just didn't appeal to me. And nothing else was even open, so I didn't have many choices.

The bells jingled as I pushed the door open, and the smell of fresh ground coffee greeted me. That's the thing about coffee- it smells so good, but I just can't drink it. Maybe next year. Soda was usually a better source of caffeine for my refined tastes. I slid in a booth by the window so I could watch the rainy day and ran a hand through my blond hair that seemed to want to stay in my face.

I was looking at the sheet with all the different types of coffee, slightly in awe of all the different flavors that I never knew existed, when someone slid in the booth across from me. I looked up in surprise, finding a woman at least ten years older than me, tears streaking down her cheeks.

"Hi ..." I wondered if I looked as confused as I felt. Probably.

"Take this," she whispered. I looked down at the object she slid across the smooth tabletop and frowned. A shiny silver key, about the size of my pinky, stared up at me. I looked back at the woman. "Take it," she repeated.

"What's it for?"

"You don't need to know. Just don't lose it," she said, getting up from the table.

"Wait, who are you?"

"I-"

A man suddenly came out of the backroom and grabbed the lady around the neck with one extremely big hand. My eyes widened. He was dressed head to toe in black, a mask covering his face. Did I accidently step unto the set of a movie without anyone letting me know? This sort of stuff doesn't usually happen. At least not to me.

"I can't find it," the man growled. His voice was deep and gravelly, the type of voice you don't forget. Believe me, I know. The only feature of his face that I could see were his eyes. I wish I hadn't. They were cold and ... just blank. It's hard to describe what I mean, but they sent a chill down my spine. They were lifeless.

"I told you where it was! Please!" The woman's voice broke and I reached out for the key, sliding it towards me silently and hoping it wasn't what the guy was looking for. Damn, that would be bad. I started edging toward the end of my seat. I wanted to get out of there and quick.

"And I think you're lying," the man hissed. I watched his grip tighten around her neck and swallowed uneasily. Suddenly I felt frozen. I couldn't move. "Tell me where it is," he continued in that same voice. My eyes were on his other hand, which was moving towards the inside of his coat. God, no. Please don't notice me.

"I told you," she sobbed. Her face went pale as quickly as it had turned red and his hand finally reached a shiny piece of metal in his jacket. That was the first time I had ever seen a gun in first person and it scared the hell out of me. I suddenly wished I had never woken up that morning.

"Bye, bye Fiona," came the gruff answer. In less than a second, his hand flew up, a shot rang out, and the woman who had been standing there in tears a moment ago now lay in a red puddle on the floor. All in a second. The shot echoed through my head. I didn't think I'd ever be able to forget that sound. I still don't. My eyes were glued to the lifeless body on the floor, the crimson blood pooling in between the cracks in the spotless checkered tiles.

No one shouted 'candid camera'. No one shouted 'cut' or 'take two'. This wasn't some action movie or made for television drama. This was someone's life. It certainly wasn't mine, that's for sure. I didn't think I could move until suddenly the masked man's eyes turned slowly in my direction.

"Oh, we had a customer," he started in his rough voice. "Look at that ... Don't move, boy."

Yeah, right. I was out of the booth and through the door before he even raised his hand. One flash of metal was all it took. A shot ran out behind me but I didn't even turn. Lucky for me that street had no traffic or someone probably would've run me over easily. All I could think about was getting into our hotel and my room in one piece. Without any holes in me.

I heard yelling behind me but I didn't stop. I don't think I'd ever run that fast in my life. I burst through the glass doors of the hotel we were staying at in less than a minute and ran across the lobby for the elevator. The man behind the desk yelled at me to slow down, but I couldn't even stop to breath. I slammed my fist against the up button and waited.

And waited. I pressed it three more times. I knew quite well that wouldn't speed it up any, but I did it anyway. My hands were shaking by now and I felt like I was hyperventilating. My breaths came in uneven gasps. The doors suddenly slid open smoothly with a ding and I basically fell inside, pressing the button for the doors to close. As that was happening, my index finger wavered over the floor numbers.

Floor number, floor number ... Dammit, what floor were we on? I tried to remember what the key said on it but my mind was blank. I dug through my pockets with shaky hands and came up with nothing except for that dumb silver key. No room key. Knew I forgot something.

I pressed six and hoped it was right. We stayed in way too many hotels for me remember all the different room numbers. That was my excuse. I took a deep breath. Six sounded right. I tried to convince myself that nobody was following me. I think the lobby would stop somebody donned in a ski mask, right? Hopefully. Unless he shot them all first.

I swallowed. Not good, not good. The elevator dinged again and the doors slid open again. I stepped out and tried not to fall over my feet. You know when you get really scared and you feel like you might faint? That's how I felt. If I got to my room without crashing into a wall or to the floor, I'd count myself lucky, that's for sure.

I took a right and tried to remember which room I had with Brian. A green plant in the corner of the hall near the window looked familiar, but I couldn't be sure. What if every floor had the same plant? I would die of humiliation if I knocked on the wrong door this early in the morning and woke up someone I didn't know. Then I'd be dead. Hell, I would kill someone if they woke me up this early and I didn't know them.

623. That was it. Or was it 523? I knew it had a '23' because that was Michael Jordan's number and I wouldn't forget that. I mean, I just did, but I remembered it, right? So far so good. I was going to collapse any second so I just knocked loudly on 623. I waited a second and then knocked again. Damn, Brian, open up.

"Nick?" The door opened slowly and Brian stood there with tousled hair and sleep filled eyes. He made some remark but I pushed through and slammed the door shut, locking it. The handle's lock, the latch lock, the chain lock. I debated pushing the dresser against the door but I didn't want Brian to think anything was wrong.

I looked at him. Too late.

"Why are you shaking?" Brian demanded. "Where were you?" Great. Now he was wide awake and worried. He touched my arm and I realized that I was still shaking. Taking a deep breath, I tried to appear calm, cool, and collected.

It was impossible.

"I ... I just wanna go to bed," I mumbled, pulling away from his gaze. I knew in just about another second I would break down bawling to him and I didn't want that to happen. I trudged toward my bed and fell face down on the crumpled sheets and blankets. That way, even if I did become a wreck, at least he couldn't see my face.

Suddenly the image of the woman in her own pool of blood flashed in front of my eyes and I shuddered, involuntarily moaning. Maybe this was a bad dream. If I went back to sleep, all I had to do was wake up and I'd be back to normal life. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to sleep. Brian had a different idea.

"Nick, what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing." I'm not the one lying in a pool of blood across the street. I wondered if I should call somebody and let them know. The cops or something. I shuddered.

"Where'd you go anyway?"

"The lobby," I lied. We kind of had an unwritten rule with each other that we would never leave the hotel without telling someone else in the group where we were going. We had always taken it seriously because there had been way too many times in the past we spent sitting around worrying about where the hell someone went. We still take it seriously. I think Kevin was the one that had pretty much established that one with us. Of course, I had to be the first one to break it.

"Oh." Brian sounded like he expected some other extravagent answer. He knew me too well. I wasn't about to tell him though. One, I hadn't been where I was supposed to be; and two, it would only make it more real for me. In my own little way I was still trying to convince myself that I had been in some strange dreamworld and it would all go away. The voice in the back of my head kindly told me it wouldn't.

"If someone knocks on the door, don't open it," I said into my pillow.

"Huh? Why?"

"Just don't."

"Nick, you're scaring me."

Welcome to my world. I was scared out of my mind. I heard the other bed creak as he sat down on its edge. Damn, I think I sensed a sitdown talk coming on. I wasn't in the mood.

"Go back to bed, Frick. I'm sorry I woke you." My voice was muffled into the bed but I didn't feel like moving my head to look at him.

"Not 'till you tell me why you're suddenly acting like someone tried to kill you out there."

Bingo. Wow, never thought he'd guess it. Impressive. I should line him up as a psychologist or something like that. Forget singing as a career. I mumbled some answer into the pillow. I'm not even sure what I said myself. I wasn't really thinking too much at that moment.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said shakily. I heard Brian let out a long sigh. Was he going for the pity act or something? I rolled over and looked him straight in the eye, trying to stay expressionless. He stared back, eyes begging me to tell him what was wrong. In most cases I would have, but like I said, this wasn't real.

"Frack-"

"I had a bad dream," I interrupted. "I'm gonna watch TV." That's all it was, a bad dream. I slid off the bed and sat on the floor in front of the television , grabbing the controller from the dresser. I flipped it on and channel surfed for a few seconds. Nothing really caught my eye, so I just kept some cartoon network on.

"Nick-"

"I'll put it low so you can sleep ..." I assured him, pretending that's what I thought was the matter. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I leaned back against the foot of the bed and turned the volume a few notches lower to satisfy any objections. Now leave me alone, Brian ...

"Do you wanna talk?" came the immediate next question.

I shook my head silently and concentrated on Scooby-Doo. I wonder if that guy knew where I was. My stomach sank as I slowly realized that yes, this was the only hotel on the whole block. The man would have to be an idiot not to figure it out. I bit my lip and suddenly regretted being famous. Maybe he didn't recognize me. What would a guy like that listen to our type of music for? Maybe he didn't even see my face.

The shots kept echoing in my ears. It sounded like a cannon. The shot would slam through my head and then I would see the blood. So much blood. Over and over, the same thing played in my head like a broken record. I rested my forehead on my knees and took a deep breath. Calm down, Nick. There's nothing to worry about.

I suddenly felt really cold. I couldn't get my hands to stop shaking so I shoved them in my pockets. What was the matter with me? I wished it all would go away. I glanced over my shoulder at Brian, who was under the covers in his bed again. I don't know why I was disappointed at that- I was the one who told him to leave me alone and go back to sleep- but somehow I was.

I rested my head back in my arms and shut my eyes.

-

Someone was shaking my arm and calling my name.

Without opening my eyes, I knew that I was lying on the floor, still in front of the TV. I didn't feel like moving though. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and kindly told the person where they could go. That only got me a soft punch to the stomach and I knew I had to get up.

"Nick, come on, it's ten o'clock. You got to sleep late, so let's move," Brian encouraged, shaking my arm harder. It was annoying, but I could sleep through it. "C'mon, Nicky."

"No," I mumbled. "Go away." I never knew that the floor could be so comfortable. The recurring image in my head suddenly came back to haunt me and I moaned. Thanks Brian, for bringing me back to cold reality.

"I'll go get Kevin to wake you up then," Brian warned. Right now, I could care less, but I shook my head no. "Then get up, buddy boy. We have to get something to eat and then we have an interview at one, and we have to warm-up at the venue, and-"

I zoned out his voice. I just wanted to sleep. My theory that everything would go away when I woke up was disappointingly proven wrong, but I figured I could try again at least. One more time ...

"Nick." Brian must've lost patience then because he simply grabbed me under the arms and physically lifted me off the carpetted floor. "C'mon man, move it."

"I'm going, I'm going," I muttered. Maybe being busy today would be good. I could simply forget about what had happened and move on. I mean, there wasn't anything to worry about anyway, right? Right. Life was perfect.

But of course, as we all learn, nothing's perfect.

-

"Why can't we eat breakfast at McDonald's?"

We all stared at AJ tiredly. Sure, Mickey D's breakfast sandwiches are pretty decent; just not seven days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year, like AJ preferred. I seriously questioned that guy's taste.

"Aje, if I eat there again, I'm gonna be sick," Howie said. He spoke for all of us I think. I definitely agreed.

"But-"

"AJ, please. We eat there everyday. You'll probably have dinner there tonight," Kevin said. I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or amused. It was hard to tell with Kev sometimes. "You can at least eat some real food for breakfast, okay?"

"Sure, fine, whatever."

We were eating in the hotel's restaurant, downstairs in the lobby, like we sometimes had in the past. Whenever AJ didn't get his way. I wasn't really paying much attention to anything after we ordered. My eyes were focussed entirely on the door, expecting a masked man to appear there any second.

" ... right, Nick?"

"Huh?" I looked at AJ questioningly, but he rolled his eyes. "Earth to Nicky."

"Shut up."

"You okay, Nick?" Howie asked, sending me a strange look. It was like he thought there was something the matter with me or something like that. Give a tired guy a break, D. Not all of us can think straight in the morning.

"I'm fine."

"You look kinda pale," Kevin noted. "You're not getting sick again, are you?" I shook my head, trying to shake some of that worry of his face. He didn't seem convinced though. "Just tired?"

"Yeah."

He nodded and went back to stirring his ice tea. Being tired was nothing new. I wondered what he would say if he knew there was chance that a ski-mask wearing, gun wielding, trigger happy lunatic was after me. I couldn't even imagine what he might say. I was tempted to ask.

I looked up from the napkin I had been folding over and over again and found them all staring at me. I raised an eyebrow. They sure knew how to make a guy feel comfortable. "What? What'd I do?" The innocent act almost always worked on them.

"Nothing, Nick. You're just weird."

"Thanks, Jay." I could always count on AJ for a kind word or two. Yeah, right. I really don't think he should be the one to talk about being weird anyway. I watched as he adjusted his lime colored glasses and sent me a thin smile. I stuck out my tongue in reply.

"Guys, stop," Kevin started. I think sometimes he was embarrassed to be seen in public with us. At least, that's the way he acted. I usually had fun giving him a reason to feel that way. Today I was too busy watching the glass doors for any unexpected visitors. I think I almost fainted when the waiter came up behind me with our orders. I was really jumpy.

"Are you waiting for somebody?" Howie spoke up after our food was set in front of us. I pushed the edge of my food with my fork and looked up. I knew he was referring to why I kept staring at the door, so I shook my head.

"No, just lookin' ..."

"At what?"

"The door ..."

"Any particular reason?"

"No, not really." I noticed my hand holding the fork was shaking so I let it go. It clattered on the tabletop loudly and I took a deep breath. Calm down, Nick ...

"You sure you're okay, Nick?" Brian's voice had a worried tone. I took that as my way out.

"Um, I'm gonna go back to the room ... I'm not really hungry." I pushed my plate in Kevin's direction and he looked at me with that fatherly expression he got going every now and then.

"You feel sick?" What was it with him and my being sick? He was like the chronic worrier for our health or something. I think I could take care of myself. I sighed.

"I'm tired."

"Okay, go get some sleep then. But you have to be ready for the interview later, alright buddy?" I think he almost sounded sorry about that. I just nodded. I could be dying and I would still have to be ready for the interview.

"Sure, Kev."

I got out of there as quickly as I could and raced up to my room. The ride in the elevator was hell. Okay, I admit I may be a little paranoid. I think I upset a few people at the hotel because everytime the elevator stopped on another floor to pick up anyone else, I always pressed the close button before the doors even opened halfway. But I didn't want to take a chance with that guy who might be chasing me stepping on.

I went through the same routine as before with locking the door. I checked to make sure the room was the way we left it and then collapsed on my bed. I was never leaving this room again. I wonder if they would accept an over-the-phone interview. It wasn't like they didn't know the answers to the questions themselves anyway. It was always the same interviews over and over again.

I tried to convince myself once again that no one was after me. I tried to put myself in the masked man's position. That was kind of hard but I figured that if I had killed someone, I definitely wouldn't stick around in the town of the crime too long to see if anyone would notice me. Maybe he had already gotten out. It was possible.

But not likely. How long were we staying here anyway? Too long, no matter what. I clutched my pillow to my chest and took a shaky breath. I needed to tell somebody before I lost it completely. But I didn't want to get the guys involved. That would just put them in danger too. They didn't need that.

Let's see if sleeping would get me anywhere this time.

-

Chapter 2

Once again, not surprisingly, sleeping didn't do the trick. I woke up with the same gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach and the images replaying in my head. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling for a second. The pure white paint soon turned red and I groaned. I couldn't take this.

Just as before, I planted myself in front of the TV. If sleeping couldn't take it away, maybe watching some mindless sitcom would. As the opening theme music to some soap opera cued in, the phone rang shrilly. I jumped, then realized the guys were probably just calling to check up on me. They were annoying like that sometimes. I leaned over and grabbed the reciever.

"Hello?"

There was a short pause where I could hear some heavy breathing on the line, but no one said anything. I was about to hang up when suddenly, the voice from hell revisited.

"Hello ... Remember me?"

I would recognize that creepy, raspy voice anywhere. My hand tightened around the phone and I almost couldn't breath. It was a good thing I was sitting down right then because I promise you I would've fallen over on the spot, I felt so weak.

"You there?" the gravelly voice continued. It didn't have any emotion to the tone but I could just imagine the guy laughing at me, where ever he was. What if he was in the hotel? And he obviously knew my room number because he got through on the phone. I shivered. Oh, God ...

"I just wanted to let you know a few things, boy ... One. You-"

I hung up before he got any further. I didn't want to hear what he had to tell me. What could it be anyway? One, your days are numbered? I would honestly rather not know. But before I could move from my spot, the phone rang again.

Once, twice, three times ... The guy didn't give up, did he. I began to lose patience as it reached the tenth ring, so I picked up the entire phone and threw it against the wall. It made a pretty loud crash when it made contact, cracking into several pieces of plastic, along with ripping its cord out of the wall. Not to mention the fact that there was now a noticeably large dent in the plaster.

Damn. Add even more trouble to my list for today. Wait until the guys got a load of that mess. I'm not a violent kind of guy, but I just kind of lose it sometimes I guess. Like that for example. I don't really think about what I'm doing until it's over. I debated whether to hide the whole thing, but I figured the guys would notice soon enough that the phone was missing and take it from there. Oh well.

I tried to look on the bright side. No more phone calls from the masked stalker anymore. That was a plus. I tried to convince myself that that outweighed the con side of the situation at hand, but I was just frustrated with everything.

Back to TV, the reliever of the mind.

I watched some nameless, dumb, try-and-be-funny show for about twenty minutes. That's when I heard a knock at the door and lost another ten years off my life. What if the dude was trying for a direct approach now? I was reluctant to even go near the door for fear I would be shot through it. But I figured if it was one of the guys they'd get pissed that I didn't let them in.

Sure enough, when I looked through the peephole I saw Kev standing there. That was a major relief to say the least. I opened the door a few inches and decided to be a smartass. That was my job.

"Who is it?"

"It's Kev, Nicky. Let me in."

"Stranger," I objected, starting to push the door closed. Kevin pushed back, forcing it to open.

"Stop, Nick."

"Stanger!" I gave a hard shove against the door but Kev was bigger than me. He made it through and grabbed me playfully.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with doors?" His voice had a teasing tone as he physically lifted me about a foot off the ground. I laughed.

"Nope."

"Well, now I have," he stated, setting me down easily. "You're feeling better, huh?" I just shrugged at him. "Well just take it easy today." He trailed off as his eyes followed the dent on the wall to the broken phone on the floor. By the look on his face I think that I should have hidden it.

"I can explain ..." Actually, not really, but I figured I would get a word in anyway.

"I sure hope so." He looked at me expecting an answer. I searched my mind for a plausible reason.

"There was a tornado," I filled in. I know, real plausible, right? "But don't worry, I'm okay." Kevin made grab for me but I pulled away.

"Funny man," he muttered. "Why'd you throw it?"

"It kept ringing. And ringing." I looked at him. It was the honest truth.

"Why didn't you just answer it?" he asked, exasperated. I knew he was just worried about our group's reputation. We didn't exactly want to be known as the hotel trashers.

"I did."

"And?"

"No one said anything," I answered flatly. He looked at me funny, but I guess he decided to believe me.

"Okay, we'll get it fixed," he said finally. I was kind of surprised that he was pretty calm. Sometimes he had the tendency to get overworked over small things like that. If only he knew my problem was a little bit more than a broken phone and wasn't so easily 'fixed'.

"Okay. Where are the guys?"

"Downstairs waiting for me to get you," Kevin answered. "We have to get going."

"I hate interviews," I muttered as I followed him out the door. I was actually kind of glad to be getting out of the hotel room though. It was unnerving knowing that the masked man knew exactly where I was staying. It was freaky. I'd rather be around the guys then be alone.

"It shouldn't be long," Kevin answered, pressing the down button for the elevator.

"How long are we staying in this hotel?" We stepped on and I pressed the button for the lobby.

"A couple more days I think."

"Oh." That was disappointing. I was hoping that we were going to be leaving tomorrow. But things just didn't seem to be going my way lately. I knew that much at least.

The doors opened with a ding when we reached the lobby and I saw the guys waiting by the couches. As we made our way over to them they stood up, ready to go. I wondered how long they'd been waiting.

"Yo, sleepy," AJ greeted. "Did you get your beauty sleep?"

I made a face at him and he grinned. The other guys dragged us to the doors.

-

I had a scare when we were at the magazine's building. We had been sitting around in the waiting room for a couple minutes, just lounging around on the couches before the interview, when being the genius I am, I decided to go look for something to drink. After the guys warning me to be back in less than five minutes or else, I headed out.

I knew there wasn't anything on the floor we were on, so I took the elevator up to where there was a cafeteria and bought bottled water. I was heading back to the elevator when I noticed this burly looking guy coming up from behind me. Okay, that was fine. No sweat.

He waited for the elevator with me. That was a little more nerve wracking. Everytime I looked at him he turned away quickly. My heart must've been beating a hundred miles an hour by then. The elevator doors opened welcomingly and I paused, sending him a look.

Well it looked like he wasn't getting on unless I was, so I went ahead. I was pretty much stuck. I cursed at myself silently. I was so stupid. I felt my pockets and made out the outline of the key. Maybe if I threw it at him he would go away? I could hope, couldn't I?

I pressed my floor number as the doors closed. He crossed his arms over his chest. Same floor? Not likely. I gripped the metal handrail tightly, watching as my knuckles turned white. Stay calm, Nick ...

It reached the floor and the doors opened way too slowly. I quickly pushed off the side of the wall and in two steps reached the hall. The man grabbed my arm gently and I jumped, spinning around.

"Please ... God, I'll do anything. Just don't-"

"Excuse me?" He looked confused.

His voice immediately calmed me. It wasn't the gravelly voice that haunted my mind. It was soft and smooth. I let out breath of air and tried to smile at the man who must have thought me crazy by then.

"What?"

"I was just wondering if I could get an autograph for my daughter," the man said lightly. "Nick, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's me. Sure thing." I took the pad he handed me and wrote a short message to his daughter, whose name was Heather he said. I handed it back shakily and he thanked me.

"You just made her day with that," he said. I smiled.

"Thanks!"

He nodded and got back on the elevator, returning to where he came from I presume. I let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, wiping my face with hands. That was too close. People were going to start thinking that I was crazy soon. Hell, I was.

I nearly ran back to the guys, who were still where I left them.

"Hey," I greeted, gasping for breath. That sprint down the hallway had really done me in. I collapsed down next to Brian and took a drink from my bottle. I noticed Kevin glance at the clock on the wall and waited for him to mention my being late. Surprisingly he didn't.

"Are you cold?" Brian whispered. I shook my head and gave him a questioning look. "You're shaking," he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just outta breath."

"You can tell me if anything's up," he continued. I smiled. You see, that's why Brian was my best friend. He always let me know that he was there for me no matter what.

"I know."

I wondered if he would still be there for me when he found out the fact that I was a witness to murder and that the killer was after me. When did my life get so crazy?

"Bri, are the doors in the hotel bullet proof?" I asked suddenly. That was something that had been bothering me ever since the knock at the door. I kept thinking about how in movies people were blown away through doors.

Brian looked at me with a surprised expression. "Bulletproof, Nick? Why do you want to know that?"

"I dunno." I shrugged.

"I don't know if they are." He seemed to think for a second. "Is this because of your bad dream?"

"Yeah," I said. Brian just kept on giving me excuses. It was great.

"Well, don't worry about it, buddy."

Sure. Don't worry. You wouldn't be saying that if you knew that it was much more than just a bad dream.

-

Chapter 3

Did you ever wonder how things in life can change so quickly? How in one second everything in the world was just fine, not picture-perfect but doable, and in the next things were just spinning out of control? I felt like I was on one of those teapot rides and no one would let me off. It just kept getting faster and faster.

Yeah, you guessed it- I was wallowing in self-pity once again. There really wasn't much else for me to do. We didn't have much time before the concert because the interview had gone a little longer than expected. By a little I mean try a couple of hours. The editor of the magazine had decided to get the grand idea to throw in a photo shoot for the article they were writing, and voila, we were instant mannequins. I don't think I'll ever be able to smile again, at least not tonight.

So here I was, hanging with the guys. Fun, fun, fun. Let me tell you, these boys really knew how to have a good time when they're tired. I really didn't think it was a good idea for us all to be together, but then again I wasn't the one who wanted to be alone either. It was just that five short fuses crammed in one hotel room were pretty much bound to make an explosion sooner or later. And I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't be a participant.

So I played Nintendo with Brian. An easy, fun thing to do that didn't involve talking. Or much anyway.

"You can't do that, Nick."

"Do what?"

"That. Right there. Stop."

"What?" I looked over at him and threw my controller down. "Fine."

Just fine. I couldn't concentrate on anything anyway. I kept seeing the lady from that morning. Her face, with the tears streaming down her cheeks ... I should have done something. Instead, I had just looked on dumbly while her life was ended with one bullet. One bullet. I could have stopped it with one word. One move. In one second, my chance was gone because I was just too slow. Now a woman was dead because of me. Her family probably in pieces. I was so stupid and there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it. Nothing.

"You okay, Nick?" Brian was looking confused.

"I'm fine." Geez. Quit asking. Everything was fine. I just had to keep telling myself that and it would be true. Isn't that some psychological theory? Like if you kept repeating something you started to believe it? Well it would be now. Everything was fine. Okey dokey. Hunky dorey. Just ducky. Good. Peachy. Perfect.

I sighed. Why did I have a feeling that trying to brainwash myself was not going to work?

"You wanna play anymore?" Brian was still giving me that look.

"No. You won, okay?" I flipped off the game system with my foot.

"Now I know you're sick," Brian muttered. It was true, I never let anyone beat me with out putting up a fight. Brian knew it too. I just shrugged at him and pulled myself off the floor tiredly.

"I'm just tired ..." I threw myself on the bed next to AJ, who looked at me over his glasses and smirked.

"You look like shit, Nicky." No one ever said AJ wasn't blunt. I just shrugged at him. It had been a long day for all of us. He didn't look so perky himself but I didn't say anything. Like I said, I didn't want to be involved in an explosion. I could do without the bruises.

"Tired."

"So you've said."

"Well, I am."

"We're all tired, hon. Get over it." He rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever it was that he was doing before. Reading the comics from last Sunday I think. Fun for everyone.

The second the phone rang on the night table next to the bed, I jerked away from the sound. I was caught off guard. Not again. Please. Needless to say, this wasn't Brian's and my room. Our room was temporarily safe and disconnected from any stalker phone calls. The phone rang again, shaking the table. I tried my best to ignore it.

"Nick, get the phone," I heard Kevin say.

No way, Jose. Sure I was the closest, but so what? I wasn't about to answer it if my life depended on it. The scary thing was that it actually did. I ignored Kevin, who on the fourth ring reached over and grabbed the phone, simultaneously cuffing me in the head. I moved away. Nice one, Kev.

"Hello?" There was a pause where I held my breath. "Oh hey, Donna," I heard Kevin say easily. Okay, so it was a false alarm. I still wasn't taking any chances.

I chewed the string on the sweatshirt I was wearing absently as we listened to Kev on the phone. Donna never called with good news. We were probably adding more dates on to the tour or something like that. That would be fine except I kind of wanted to get home for once.

"What'd she want?" Howie asked when the phone was hung up. He looked like he expected some less that cheery news for us too.

"Donna wants us to do a meet-and-greet tomorrow," Kevin replied. I frowned at him. There went our day off.

"But, Kev ..." AJ groaned.

"Don't look at me, guys. It's not up to me."

"No extra dates, right?" Brian checked. Kevin shook his head. Well, that was good. I could handle a meet-and-greet. It would keep my mind off of things a little. Maybe. Hopefully.

-

"Thanks for coming and good night!"

The show went well. No one shot at me and no bombs were thrown on stage. Those were my major concerns. I was suddenly thankful for all the added security we had at the larger venues. It hadn't ever failed. Yet. I'd never had a murderer after me before so I really couldn't judge.

I pulled a towel over my head and grabbed a water bottle off of one of the tables. That's when I saw the note.

A big white envelope pinned to the side of my duffel bag on the couch. I looked around to see if any of the guys were watching me like it was a joke or something, but they were all busy doing their own thing and talking to other people. I frowned.

I took a big sip of water and headed over to my bag, sitting next to it and pulling off the envelope. I debated whether or not to open it. What the hell, a piece of paper couldn't hurt me. Nothing was written on the outside, but when I tore it open a piece of unlined note paper fell out. I read it slowly.

Meet me at the coffee shop tomorrow morning, same time as today. Bring the key.

Hell no. This was not happening. Come on, Nick, keep breathing.

My stomach was in knots. I gripped the arm of the couch tightly and tried to think. I was not meeting that guy. I was never going back to the coffee shop. Period. Simple as that. There was nothing else to think about.

I'd ignore it. Simple. Pretend I never got it. I crumpled the envelope and paper, shooting it toward the giant black garbage can next to the couch. Swish. Two points.

But wait a second, now I had no evidence for if I ever decided to go to the cops or tell the guys what happened. I glanced at the garbage can and just shook my head. No way was I digging through that thing to try and find the paper. Never. It wasn't worth it.

I was kind of unnerved the way that the note was able to get in here in the first place. Backstage was off limits. How did this guy keep finding me? I had convinced myself that I just had to get through the few days in this town and state, but now I wasn't so sure. This guy seemed pretty determined to hunt me down.

What was the significance to the key? It didn't seem like much to me. It looked like a key for a diary or something like that. Maybe a safe? That was probably it. I honestly don't even know where I put it. Somewhere in my pile of junk back at the hotel. The woman had told me not to lose it and I was definitely not going to break a dead woman's last wish. Especially one who had died because of me and my stupidity.

I caught sight of one of our bodyguards passing me and waved him over. "Todd!"

"Hey, little buddy." Todd was one of those huge, massive guys who made you feel like you're about four feet tall. He grinned at me. "What's up?"

"Did you see anyone back here? During the show?"

"Nope, it was all clear."

"You sure?"

He laughed deeply and gave my head a rough pat. "Yeah, I'm sure. That's my job isn't it?"

"Yeah ..." I gave him a half smile. Somehow that wasn't reassuring. Obviously someone had been back here to make sure I got that note, even if no one had seen them.

"What's the matter? The guys mess with your stuff or something?"

I laughed. "Nah."

"Well, if anyone's buggin' ya, just let me know, kid. I'll take care of 'em." He laughed again and I grinned.

"Thanks, man."

"No prob. I'll see you later," he said, moving away. I sighed. I would've felt better if they had noticed someone back here, that would at least mean that they noticed. The fact that no one saw anything made me even more uneasy.

"Nick! C'mon, let's go!"

I got up from the couch and slung my bag over my shoulder. Back to the hotel and probably a sleepness night awaiting me. Great. I couldn't wait.

-

The dim roar coming from the fans was giving me a headache. Sure it was a nice welcome when you first came in, but after ten minutes you kind of hoped some of the girls would kindly lose their voices. We knew they were all there, they didn't have to scream to make us realize.

There were a few things about meet-and-greets that bugged me. One, a lot of the people there who got in to see us had connections, so it really wasn't making their day to be there. They got in all the time. Second of all, the fans who wanted to see us only got about a total of two seconds with each of us. It was a "hi, bye" sort of thing going on. But I guess I couldn't really do anything about it. It had always been that way and probably always would be.

"Hi, Nick!" a girl squealed. I watched her walk up shakily to the table where me and the guys were sitting. The guards allowed five girls at the table at a time, moving one by one to each of us, keeping it going like a factory. That was exactly what it was like. I wondered if the other guys ever felt like a zoo exhibit.

"Hey ..." I greeted, reaching out with a smile to shake her hand. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen and the second she touched my hand she burst into tears. "Don't cry," I started gently as I signed her picture. She covered her mouth with her hand when I looked up at her.

"Sorry. I'm just so nervous." She giggled nervously and I smiled.

"Don't worry about it. You like the album?"

"I love it! I-"

"Keep the line moving," a guard said from behind me gruffly, interrupting whatever it was that she was going to say. I glared at him, but he kept his arms crossed stoically. I turned back to the girl and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry ... Thanks for coming, I hope we'll see you on the tour."

"Me too," she whispered, wiping away her tears as she moved onto Brian.

I looked up as the next girl came forward similiarly to the last. We went through an almost identical ordeal. Same with the next, and the next, and the next ...

Twenty minutes passed and I still had the same smile plastered on my face. I must have looked pretty goofy. I was yawning when a girl that looked about in her twenties came forward. She ran a hand through her straight blonde hair as she reached the table.

"Tired?"

"Nah, I'm okay." I smiled at her but it wasn't returned. Okay, then. A snobby fan, are we? I could deal with that. She leaned down on the tabletop until we were eye level.

"Glad to hear it. Where's the key?"

"Key?" I stared at her open-mouthed. Oh my God.

"Yes, dammit. The key. Where the hell is it?"

"I ... don't know what you're talking about." Shit, this was bad. Where did she come from? How did she get in?

"You missed your meeting this morning with the boss, hon. He's not pleased."

"Meeting?"

"Yes, sweetheart. At the coffee shop. And I know you got the note, so don't play dumb." She leaned even closer and grabbed my chin. "Where is the-"

"Excuse me," the guard started from behind me. I heard him coming forward. "Step out of the line please."

"Don't think this is over," she hissed, letting the guard pull her away. "It's not." She glared at me and my stomach sank. I think I was going to lose my breakfast. As the next fan came forward, I swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Wow, she was nuts, huh?" The girl who was about my age, shook her head with a grin.

"Yeah ..."

Actually I think I was the one going nuts.