Chapter 9
“Sometimes I feel like I'm a
prisoner
I think I'm trapped here for a
while.”
-“911”, Wyclef Jean f. Mary J.
Blige
Hannah stumbled hurriedly around her hotel room, checking behind doors
and peering inside the small closet. She silently berated herself as her panic
rose. Idiot! How do you manage to misplace a cello?! Mom is going to kill me.
She paused in the middle of the room and took a much-needed calming
breath. “Okay, let’s think rationally. I had the cello at the rehearsal. And
I remember wheeling out to get in the car with the guys. But after that…”
She had no clue, having been too caught up in meeting Bobbie and being dragged
off by Lance.
“Oh no,” she moaned. “I won’t have an instrument to play at
rehearsal tomorrow! Then I’ll get kicked out of the orchestra, and then-”
A quick rap on the door interrupted her train of thought. Why would
someone be here at twelve-thirty in the morning?
She peered cautiously through the peephole and saw a massive black man.
It was one of the ‘N Sync bodyguards. What’s his name again? she
wondered, unlocking the door. Not Lonnie, not Mike…
“Dre!”
she remembered, opening the door and greeting him.
He nodded, smiling at her. “You forgot this in the car, Miss Hannah,”
he explained, holding her cello case aloft. “Thought you would want it
back.”
She let out an enormous sign of relief. “Thank you so much! I was going
crazy trying to remember what I did with it. You’re a lifesaver.”
His eyes shined and he shrugged those broad shoulders. “It was no
problem at all,” he said, handing it over to her.
Dre turned away from the door, ready to leave now that his errand was
done.
“Wait,” Hannah entreated, pushing the cello case quickly inside the
doorway and following him into the hallway. “Are you JC’s bodyguard?”
“Well, sometimes. We switch off,” he answered, looking down at her
diminutive height curiously. “Why?”
She bit her lip, thinking her question over. “Is…he’s okay,
right?” she asked in concern.
He tipped his head to the side, contemplating her inquiry. And also,
contemplating her. Finally he nodded. “The kid’ll be alright. He’s got
friends on his side.” Then he winked at her and left.
Hannah stared after him, his words echoing in her head. He’ll be
alright. He’s got friends on his side. She went back into her room
thoughtfully, closing the door quietly behind her. A slow smile spread across
her face.
He will be fine. He’s got me.
*
*
*
“Miss Hannah,” Dre greeted, tipping his head.
She waved at him. “Mister Dre,” she answered, smiling.
From her side, Justin nudged her. “When did you and Dre get so
chummy?” he wondered.
“I don’t know,” Hannah replied. “He helped me out last night. I
completely forgot my cello in the car, and he brought it back.”
Justin nodded, understanding now. “I see. Yeah, he and the rest of the
security team have a habit of saving all our butts.”
“Appreciate it, little man,” Mike suggested, overhearing Justin’s
remark. “Or else one day that valuable butt of yours will be dead. And then
how will I get my paycheck?”
Justin glared at him playfully. “Little man, huh? I ain’t so little
anymore, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Nope,” Mike answered flippantly. “Not much to notice, if you get
my drift.”
Hannah laughed at the comeback and Justin stalked back to the bodyguard.
“Now you’re gonna get it,” he threatened. “I call this the ‘White
Tornado.’”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he jumped onto Mike’s back,
trying to put him in a chokehold. His shouts immediately filled the auditorium,
showing how well the acoustics actually were.
Hannah rolled her eyes and continued down the aisle to the stage, leaving
Justin to wrestle with Mike. Obviously, with Lillian gone, Justin had reverted
to his twelve-year-old persona.
She walked by the curtains to the stage, and almost screamed when someone
popped out of them.
“Boo!” Chris screeched, his head a mere two inches away from hers.
“Chris!” she exclaimed. “Do not ever do that again.” She
punctuated each word by slapping him on the arm.
“Ouch!” he whined. “That hurts. Literally and figuratively.” Then
he caught sight of someone behind her. “Quick, pretend I’m not here.
Joey’s coming.”
Before she could reply, he had disappeared among the curtains again.
Hannah turned around and motioned Joey to slow down as he climbed the
stairs to the stage. At his puzzled expression, she pointed at the curtains and
mouthed Chris’ name.
He nodded in understanding, a broad grin stretching his face. Stepping
slowly in front of the curtains, he drew back his fist and then punched as hard
as he could.
“Holy damn, that hurts!” came Chris’ loud shout. After some
coughing and sputtering, he pushed the curtains aside and reappeared. “Who did
that?” he demanded, looking from Hannah to Joey and back.
Both of them immediately pointed at Lance, who was talking with Sondheim
a few feet away.
Chris gazed at them suspiciously. “You must think I’m pretty
stupid…” Then he turned to Lance. “Lance! Why’d you punch me, you
jerk?!”
Hannah and Joey were reduced to immature giggles as he stormed off.
“Well, that just made my day,” Joey said in satisfaction. “Thanks.”
She laughed. “No problem. It was payback for scaring me earlier.”
He smiled and saw JC and Bobbie sitting in the audience. “I think
I’ll go bother the lovebirds,” he suggested before leaving the stage.
Hannah observed the couple. She wouldn’t have chosen ‘lovebirds’ to
describe them. They were sitting next to each other, but that was all they were
taking part in together. JC was planted in the middle of his seat, his elbows
propped on the armrests and one of his legs bouncing up and down. Bobbie was
drinking a bottle of water and leaning away from him, her eyes scanning the
room. Neither of them were talking.
Body language can sure tell a lot.
“What’s going on, you two?” Joey asked, sitting down behind them.
JC looked over his shoulder at his friend. “Same ol’, same ol.’
You?”
Joey shrugged. “Ate some cookies, almost got a girl’s number, punched
Chris. The usual.” He turned to Bobbie. “Having fun so far? The orchestra
hasn’t even played yet. Believe me, they are good.”
She smiled at him. “I can’t wait. I just hope I don’t fall asleep
or anything. I’m kind of tired today.”
Joey nodded. “That’s understandable. You guys had a late date
yesterday.”
JC tensed at hearing about last night. It had not been one of his best
ones. And frankly, he had no wish to talk about it. Thankfully, Sondheim was
tapping his baton on his stand, getting the attention of the orchestra.
“Shh,” he said. “They’re going to begin soon.”
The graceful strains of the violins started softly, then picked up
strength as the cellos and violas joined in. Finally, the basses charged in,
rounding out the entire sound. The bows of the different sections moved in
complete unison, and JC was hypnotized by the synchronization of the entire
orchestra. All the musicians even swayed together, following the same rhythm.
As his eyes traveled across the stage, they settled on Hannah’s bent
figure. Studying her, she seemed completely immersed in the song. Her head was
crooked down to the fingerboard of the cello and her eyes were closed. I
guess she wasn’t lying about not needing her glasses when she plays.
Almost as if in a trance, JC stared at the graceful picture she made,
admitting to himself that it held a certain allure. There’s just
something…classy about her. But come on, this is Brat! And she did shove
me last night.
“Jace, are you listening? What are you looking at?” Bobbie asked,
nudging him insistently.
JC looked at her distractedly. “What? Oh! Nothing, I’m just spacing
out,” he explained, giving her a small smile.
Bobbie turned her gaze to the stage. “Isn’t that Hannah over
there?” She pointed with one well-manicured finger. “She’s pretty good.”
He cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. She knows how to play.” He wished
his girlfriend would stop staring at Hannah with such sudden interest.
Bobbie continued to look at her with rapt attention. As the cellos began
their solo, she whipped her head around to regard JC. “Do you think she’s
pretty?”
JC, who had taken a sip of her water, nearly choked. “What?”
he burst out after coughing a few times.
“Do you think Hannah’s pretty,” Bobbie repeated, peering at him
strangely.
He cleared his throat. “Um…yeah, I guess. She’s not ugly or
anything,” he said cautiously, not wanting to inadvertently say something
wrong. “Why do you ask?”
She sighed. “I don’t know…”
He remained silent, knowing that she would eventually explain.
“You don’t think she’s prettier than me, do you?” Bobbie finally
asked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and avoiding his gaze.
JC looked down at her bent head, understanding why she had asked now. She
felt insecure. But compared to Hannah? I don’t get that part at all. He
launched into boyfriend-mode.
“Babe,” he said in a soothing voice, “I don’t think she’s
prettier than you. Of course not. You’re my girlfriend, not Hannah. You’re
always beautiful in my eyes. No one else matters.”
“Really?” she asked, giving him a small smile.
He nodded. “Definitely.”
The small smile stretched into a grin and she quickly gave him a hug.
“I love you, Jace.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders, remaining quiet.
*
*
*
“Oh, shoot!” Hannah exclaimed. She turned to Lance, who was standing
idly beside her. “Quick, you have to hide me.”
He looked at her, confused. “Why? What’s going on?” He scanned the
street, and saw nothing out of the usual. Only the rest of the guys signing some
autographs and milling around with the few fans who had showed up after
rehearsal, their security, and the musicians from the orchestra heading to their
hotels and homes.
“Just say that I already left, if anyone asks,” she instructed
quickly before disappearing into a store across the street.
Lance stared after her, still completely lost.
“Scoop, just the man I was looking for!” Chris said, running up to
him with a rolled up piece of paper in his hand. “You gotta help me out.”
“Why? What’s going on?” he asked for the second time in the last
few minutes.
“Hannah, that’s what!” Chris shouted. “I just found out. You know
how I wrote her telephone number all over the bathroom stalls? Well, now I know
what she did in return.”
Lance began laughing. He had almost forgotten about that. “Hurry, tell
me! What’d she do?”
Chris hastily unrolled the paper in his hand and held it out to show
Lance. “Need I say anymore?”
Lance took one look at the paper and immediately started laughing even
harder. He grabbed the paper, examined it more closely, and dropped it on the
ground as he cracked up again.
Chris glared at him and picked it up quickly. “Calm down, man! Shut up
before you catch attention.”
Lance took a few deep breaths and composed himself with some effort.
“Sorry, Keebler, I couldn’t help it.”
“Why is everyone calling me Keebler?!” Chris demanded, throwing his
hands up in exasperation.
“Maybe because you look like an elf,” he answered.
Chris shook his head and got back to the issue at hand. He rolled up the
paper and slipped it into his pocket. “I can’t believe she defaced all my
promo shots!”
Lance sighed. “She didn’t deface them. She only drew a
mustache and some horns on. Colored some teeth in. No biggie.”
“And how’d she do it anyway? I thought Johnny kept all our pictures
hidden away somewhere,” Chris continued, ignoring Lance’s barely reassuring
comment.
“Nope, they’re his responsibility but he usually lets security hold
all the extra copies. Johnny has more than enough of our pictures,” Lance
replied. “Hannah must have talked her way through security.” Plus, after
all the pranks Chris has pulled on them, they were probably more than willing to
help out.
Chris slammed his fist into his palm. “She’s a sly one, I’ll give
her that.”
“How’d you get that picture?” Lance asked.
Chris groaned. “I was over with Justin and Joey signing some
autographs, and one of the girls handed it to me. She looked a little surprised,
to say the least.”
Lance chuckled, imagining the expression on the girl’s face. “That
must have been vintage.”
Chris glared at his comment. “Now I have to find all the other pictures
that are floating around the city right now.” He paused, thinking something
over. “Wait, aren’t the extra copies the ones we send out through the fan
club?”
Lance tried to remember. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Oh, no!” Chris shouted in panic, the possibility of millions of
girls around the country receiving the marked-up picture in the mail dawning on
him. “I have to go now. See you later, man.”
Lance waved as Chris ran off, looking for someone to take him to the
hotel. Seconds later, someone tapped his shoulder.
“Am I good, or am I good?” Hannah asked, grinning proudly.
He nodded with appreciation. “You are damn good, girl. That was
impressive. Keebler’s days of prank king are over.”
Hannah smiled, amused that Lance had started calling Chris by the
nickname she had accidentally begun. “Let’s go celebrate. There’s a
Starbucks the next block down. My treat.”
He agreed. “Hold on, just let me grab someone to come with us.” He
turned around and headed over to Mike, Dre, and Wesley standing nearby.
She nodded in understanding and waited for Lance to find a bodyguard to
accompany them. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would be like if
she had to be with a chaperone at all times. Lance and I are the same age,
but our lives are completely different.
Moments later, he stood in front of her, this time with Wesley standing
behind him. “All set to go,” he announced.
They walked down the sidewalk, trying to be as discreet as possible. As
the sound of their shoes scraping the concrete became awkwardly loud, Hannah
decided to make with the small talk.
“So tell me how you guys met Lillian.”
*
*
*
Hannah nodded, the aromatic and comforting smell of the coffeehouse
wafting into her nostrils. She took a sip of her heavily-creamed coffee. “What
a stroke of good luck,” she said after she put the cup back down. “If you
hadn’t been messing around with Chris on that elevator, nothing would have
even happened.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy, huh?” Lance commented. “I wonder where we’d
all be now if everything took a different path. Justin would be with Britney and
I would not have to put up with all the pranks, I can tell you that much.”
“You know,” she began, leaning forward across the small table that
separated them, “I’m glad that you all met. From what I’ve seen, she helps
Josh.”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Lance agreed, immediately noticing how Hannah’s
light gray eyes softened as the mentioned his friend’s name. “They’re
pretty close. She calls him her big sister, actually.”
Hannah laughed. “That’s adorable.”
Lance shrugged. “If you say so. I think it’s…well, let’s not go
into that.” He drank a little of his black coffee, effectively closing the
discussion.
“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Hannah asked, pointing at some
cream and sugar. She glanced at the dark liquid he was holding. She couldn’t
stand black coffee. It was way too strong.
He waved the offer away. “No, I love it black.”
She stared at him with interest. “It’s weird, I think.”
“What? What’s weird?”
“Well, we’re the same age, right?” she asked. After he nodded, she
went on. “But we’re so different. You’re like a full-blown businessman.
You even drink your coffee black! I think only my dad does that. And then on the
other end of the spectrum, there’s me. It’s like I’m still a kid.”
“No offense or anything, but you are a kid,” Lance responded,
smiling. “This business really forces you to grow up quick.”
“But you love it anyway,” Hannah said, not asking a question but
stating a fact.
“Of course. There are some downers, obviously, but I wouldn’t give it
up for anything. Well, maybe becoming an astronaut. That would be sweet,”
Lance decided.
She smiled at him. “You know what I think you should do? Not just you,
but all of ‘N Sync.”
“What?”
“You should prove how good you really are. Simply amaze all the
critics. And also broaden your fan base,” Hannah answered. “I think it could
happen.”
Lance scoffed. “Believe me, we’ve been trying. Thanks for the support
though.”
She raised her shoulders thoughtfully. “I’ve got a few ideas.” Then
she smiled. “All in due time.”
He regarded her serious expression, wondering what she had in mind. Who
could tell? She was definitely a lot harder to read than Lillian.
“You know, from what you’ve told me, I wouldn’t have guessed that
Lillian and Justin would be the perfect couple,” she said suddenly, almost as
if she read his mind.
“Love is a crazy thing,” he replied simply.
She nodded slowly, contemplating his words. “That’s true. It’s very
true.”
Quickly finishing the rest of his coffee, he stole a glance at his watch.
“Shoot, I have to get on a conference call in about ten minutes. I’ll see
you later, alright?”
Hannah nodded and waved as he left the Starbucks, Wesley trailing behind
him.
Well, this gives me some free time. Now I only have to figure out what
to do.
*
*
*
Only
ten years old
Fell
in love with you
Everyone
I told
Hoping
you’d love me too.
It
was simply puppy love
But
I thought it was much more
I
was sure that fate had nudged
You
to knock on my door.
You
were the boy next door
The
closest I ever came to perfection
I
was only the girl next door
Didn’t
know I’d face rejection.
Hannah put her pencil down and reread her words. Not entirely true,
but it’s not bad. She quickly jotted down a couple more stanzas before
flipping the notepad’s cover back to the front. Tossing it carelessly on the
hotel bed, she stood up and stretched.
The day had been uneventful, to say the least. After leaving Starbucks
she had gone back to the concert hall, but everyone had already left. Then
she’d returned to her hotel and spent the hours practicing the cello and
writing.
Four straight hours of practicing. Although to some it may have
seemed a little extreme, she was more than used to the strenuous schedule.
Talent hadn’t come on its own in this case. She examined her fingers, checking
for any blisters. Thankfully, there were none.
Across the room the phone rang. “Hello?” she asked, picking it up.
“Hey there, sexy lady,” a sleazy voice said. “I’m looking for a
good time tonight. You interested?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t speak English.”
“Huh? But you just-“
“Sorry!” she interrupted before slamming the phone down. “I am going to kill Chris.”