“Hmmm….What can I do win forty-five minutes?” Chris asked as he tapped himself on the chin. He looked around the room to see his bandmasters lounging around on couches and chairs either reading, sleeping, or listening to music. “What….can…I…do?”

The thing you had to know about Chris is that he can’t sit or stand still for more than five minutes at a time. His friends knew that by experience so usually they gave him something to do to occupy his time. If he wasn’t focused on the upcoming show or playing a game of basketball with Justin, Chris would be annoying the others by repeatedly saying their names to see how long it would take for them to lose their cool. Sometimes he would hit them on the head with something to figure out what sound it would make. And sometimes he would simply throw things at them because it was fun.

Chris walked past the area where their costumes were hanging in alphabetical order of course. Chris rolled his eyes at the clothes hanging up on the hanger. God forbid a hat isn’t in the right place… Chris looked over his shoulders to make sure the others weren’t looking before switching one pair of Justin’s pants with JC’s.

Chris laughed evilly. They would be in for a surprise when Joey’s pants kept falling down on him while JC had a huge gap between the hem and the top of his shoes. A chesire-like grin formed on his face while he tapped his fingers against each other.

“Chris!”

Chris forced his lips together and turned to look at JC with as much innocence as possible. JC had put down the book he was reading so it was resting on his chest. He lacedhis hands behind his head and looked hard at Chris. “What are you doing?” JC asked.

“Nothing,” Chris replied.

“That’s exactly the problem.”

“How is me doing nothing a problem?”

“You get into things when you’re not doing anything,” Lance replied without looking up from the notebook he was writing in. “Remember the Pixi Stix catastrophe?”

“Hey, you were a part of that, Mr. Bass,” Chris pointed out.

“I only ate one. You were the one who told Justin it was a good idea to down seven. He wouldn’t sit down during our flight. I was sure the stewardess was going to throw Justin out midflight sans parachute.”

“That twerp had the stewardess wrapped around his dang finger,” Chris replied.

“Even so, do something productive,” JC told him.

“Like what?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know…” JC looked around for something to give to Chris. He finally grabbed a small ball off of the table by him and threw it at Chris. “Play with that,” JC replied.

“A hacky sack?” Chris asked, turning it around in his hands.

“Astute observation, Chris,” Lance mumbled.

Chris ignored him. “Why not give me something lame like a paddle ball?”

“I have that too,” JC said as he picked it up off the floor.

“Loser,” Chris muttered under his breath. JC went back to reading and Chris lazily tossed the ball into the air and caught it. He got bored with it after three tosses. Instead he grabbed the ball and turned around. “Hey Justin—think fast!” Chris said quickly and threw the ball at Justin.

It whizzed through the air and smacked Justin’s cheek, leaving a red mark in its wake. Chris started laughing as Justin yanked off the headphones that had seemed to be permanently glued to his ear since he got the new Brian McKnight CD. “What the hell? What was that for?” Justin demanded, grabbing the hacky sack off the floor. He threw it at Chris and smirked at the yelp that came out of his mouth as soon as the ball connected with his stomach.

Justin had gotten out of his seat right when Chris threw the ball back at him. He quickly brought his knee up and bounced it off it, then kicked the ball with enough force that it smacked Chris in the balls. Chris grabbed his crotch and doubled over while Joey cracked up.

“Bull’s eye!” Joey cheered. Justin bowed to fake applause while Chris slowly got to his feet.

“Lucky…shot….” Chris wheezed.

“That aint luck, that’s skill,” Justin said as he buffed his fingernails on his shirt.

“Skill? Pssh. We’ll see who has skill—think fast!” Chris kicked the hacky sack over at Justin. Justin bounced it on one foot and kicked it back at Chris who caught it on his knee. The longer they ‘played’ against each other the more competitive they got. They even went so far as to shoving each other out of the way to get to the hacky sack first. Joey then joined in and used his elbows to get them out of the way while Lance watched in amusement at a safe distance. One hard shoved from Chris sent Justin flying over the couching and landing on JC.

“Chris, that was foul!” Justin shouted.

“Do you mind? I can’t breathe,” JC commented and then shoved Justin to the floor.

“Why don’t you play with us, C?” Joey asked.

“And risk a bloody nose?”

“It’ll take the attention away from that honker of a zit on your forehead,” Lance commented. JC flipped him off.

“Yeah, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Justin agreed.

“Or a stick in the ass in this case,” Chris commented.

JC groaned. He knew the others wouldn’t lay off until he joined them in their game. He bent a page in the book and joined them in the circle. “If any of you elbow me you’re going to get an elbow to the eye,” he warned.

“Fine, we’ll play the boring way,” Chris said and tossed the ball into the air. He and Joey suddenly cried out in pain when they kicked each other. Justin fell to the floor laughing as Joey did his best to massage his toes through his shoe. The game started again and Joey managed to pass the ball to Chris who passed it to Lance. Lance kicked out his foot but the ball harmlessly bounced off of it and fell to the ground.

“Oh this is fun,” JC commented sarcastically.

“Are we ever going to get it around the circle once?” Chris groaned, throwing his arms into the air. “I’m not stopping until we get it around the circle once.”

“We have a show soon.”

“Tough toenails!”

JC sighed. Usually he loved Chris’s determination but he wanted to kill the guy for involving him in such a boring game.

“Look alive, Chasez!” Joey called. JC blinked and managed to get out of the way of the ball that was flying towards his face.

“Not funny,” he grumbled, picking up the ball and kicking it back into play. They continuously kicked around the hacky sack and every time they were close to making it around the circle one of them would drop the ball making them start over.

And that’s where Johnny found them, ten minutes to the show. “Guys? What’re you doing? Playing a game? C’mon, show starts in five minutes!” Johnny said as he clapped his hands.

“Not until we get this, Johnny,” Justin replied, not taking his eyes off of the small ball that sailed around the circle.

“Boys—“

“Johnny, let us finish this!” Chris begged. “We’re so close to getting it around the circle!”

Johnny sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the guys to get the ball around the circle. With each failed attempt Johnny’s nerves raised a small fraction. Finally they got it around the circle. “Finally! Get your butts to the stage!” Johnny said as he grabbed Justin’s arm and practically threw him in the direction of the door. “Geeze, you better not make this a regular thing.”