was wondering if you wanted to go to Orlando with me

Snapping back into reality, Lance winced as he realized what he'd just said, and then winced again as he realized, not only was Mike looking at him disbelievingly, but so was the waitress; his, hopefully, future protege.

"Excuse me?"

"I..I didn't mean to say that," Lance said, adverting his eyes from the girl's green ones, before moving them towards the table; mentally trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head, "Dammit, I had this all planned out."

Watching as the confused man in front of her stumbled over his words, Melissa couldn't help but smile amused; something that she hadn't done much of recently, "Well, when you figure it all out, how about you give me a hint, k?"

As the man absentmindedly nodded, while meeting her eyes; hitting her with a sheepish grin, Melissa couldn't help but think he had beautiful green eyes.

Ones which were a lighter hue than those of her best friend's.

Or better yet, her EX best friend.

Wincing, inwardly, at the thought, Melissa excused herself from the two men, who were now looking at one another confused; before making her way back over to the front counter; preparing to get her thoughts in order.

"You were wondering if she wanted to go to Orlando with you?" Mike started, as soon as the waitress left the table, "Boy, are you out of your mind? I mean, I thought you were when you asked me if you could go searching this area alone, and then I figured you must be when you talked me into wearing this churched out outfit. But NOW, I know you are if you think we're going to take some girl that you didn't even know the name of this morning, and bring her back to Orlando with us. Uh-uh, no way, Jose. Not on Mikey's clock. Johnny wouldn't kill you for it, but I know for sure he wouldn't have a problem knocking me off, thank-you-very-much."

While ignoring his bodyguard's rant, Lance pushed his coffee aside and put his elbows on the table; sinking his face down into his hands, "I didn't mean to say that, Mike. I just opened my mouth, and it was the first thing to shoot out of me."

"No!" Mike disagreed, taking the cream that Melissa had placed in front of Lance, and putting it into his own cup of coffee, "That wasn't the first thing to shoot out of ya. I'll tell you what was though: your hormones. You saw a pretty girl, and all common sense went flying out the window. Admit it, you lost yourself in your attraction; your fucked up attraction."

Taking his hands away from his face, Lance looked at his bodyguard, disagreeingly. He wanted to argue that his 'hormones', as Mike had called them, hadn't been the reason why he had blanked out for a second, and that they also hadn't been the reason why he had lost all 'common sense', as Mike had stated.

But as he thought about...in all actuality, that had been exactly the case.

"You're right," Lance said, sighing, after a second, "You're absolutely right. But now...what do I do?"

"You do what you came here to do," Mike said, taking a sip of his now slightly cooled off coffee, "You introduce yourself, tell her that you saw her little performance last night, and then ask her if she's ever thought about singing professionally. Plain and simple, just like that."

"Just like that," Lance repeated to himself. Inwardly grasping Mike's words of encouragement, before looking back up from the table to his bodyguard's made up face, "Ya know, if I wasn't completely heterosexual, I'd kiss you right now."

Halting his movements, of picking up his coffee mug, Mike hit Lance with a glare that quickly turned into a mischief grin, "And if I wasn't to be such a lady right now, I'd kick your ass for that statement."

Watching as the dark liquid, in front of her, quickly trickled into the ceramic mug she was holding, Melissa half-listened to her boss as he finished giving her his review of today's work.

"Despite the couple of times I caught you drifting off, and the couple of times I caught you yawning while writing down an order, I'd have to say I was truly impressed by the communication and job skills you showed with our customers today."

Turning her head, slightly, Melissa briefly smiled at the man's words, even though part of her wasn't sure whether they should be labeled as a 'compliment' or better yet a 'diss'.

"So, all in all I'd have to say starting tomorrow you'll be switched from 'temporary' waitress to 'full time' waitress; working the seven to four shift."

Genuinely smiling at the fact that she had gotten the job, Melissa began thanking the man, who didn't seem like he minded compliments at all.

"Thank you, sir. You have my word that I wont let you down."

"Well, don't mention it, Miss. Alano. Just know that it's not your word that I want, but your hard paid time, and everything else will fall into place."

Melissa nodded at Mr.Murphy's words, even though she really didn't know what he had meant by 'and everything else will fall into place'.

But as she opened her mouth to ask him, just that, she realized he had already walked off; leaving her with a questioning look on her face, and an almost filled to the top cup of Coffee in her hand.

"You know if you want to get out of here early, I'll cover for you."

After slightly jumping at the voice, Melissa looked up from the clock on the wall to Sam--who looked to be fighting back the amused smile that threatened to grace her face.

"Thanks for asking, but that's okay." Melissa said, moving her eyes back towards the clock-which told her that she had a half-n-hour to go, before settling them on the two customers that she had at the moment; the guy with the green eyes and his drag queen friend. "I'm really just waiting for those two to finish their coffee."

Following Melissa's gaze, Sam locked her eyes on the two, in question, and practically lit up at seeing who it was, "Well, if I had a camera right now, this would defiantly be my money shot."

Nodding her head at the older woman's words, Melissa had to agree. Seeing a built muscular man in drag was worth a thousands words..or better yet, a thousand pictures, "I could just see the photo on the Internet, under the title: 'Black man goes drag'."

Sam laughed at Melissa's choice of words, but then quickly added onto the joke; causing herself to laugh even harder, "Or better yet, under the title: Singer Bass finds love in someone who just happens to SPEAK bass."

Furrowing her eyebrows at the comment, Melissa turned her eyes from the two men to look at her coworker, who practically had tears coming out of her eyes, "Huh?"

Looking at Melissa to see if she was joking or not, Sam rolled her eyes before sobering up, quickly; realizing the younger woman was indeed not kidding, "Honey, I know you aren't telling me you're twenty-one years old and don't know who the hell Lance Bass is?"

While continuing to be confused, Melissa nodded at the statement, "Actually, I'm twenty, but that's besides the point. Why should I know who Lance Base is?"

"BASS, dear, BASS." Sam corrected, a little louder than Melissa would've liked; causing mostly every one in the cafe to look at them confused.

Everyone, including Melissa's two customers.

"Well, what do you think that was about?" Mike asked, after a second, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lance noted the rhetorical question, but ignored it nonetheless. He could only fathom what Melissa was thinking as, he guessed, her coworker was tuning her into who they were....or better yet who HE was.

"Well, I guess this would be easier if she knew who I was." He mumbled, matter-of-factly; even though the initial plan he had come up with involved him introducing himself to her as James Lance Bass: Manager of upcoming professional singers rather than as James Lance Bass: Pop Star Extrodinare.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." A voice said, knocking Lance out of his thoughts. Turning his attention from the-now empty coffee counter, he realized Melissa was standing in front of him, holding his bill-and wearing an unmasked look of uncertainty on her face. "Here's your check."

"Thanks," Lance said, not bothering to take his eyes away from her as he took it from her hands, "Is something wrong?"

Watching as she blinked a couple of times, Lance figured she had just realized she was staring at him, "Sorry, my uh-coworker over there just seems to think that you're this singer..um, Lance I think, his name is."

Smiling at her words, and then at the slight blush that had taken over Melissa's face as she had been caught staring, Lance couldn't help but grow a little more confidant in his demeanor, "That's because I am...and that over there, dressed in drag, is my bodyguard, Mike."

Ignoring the glare that Mike threw him over the word 'that', Lance smiled to himself as he watched the older man try to give the two some privacy without being TOO suspicious.

A feat which was easier said than done, Lance assumed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am, but you'll have to excuse me. I think I need to head to the little boy's room....y'know, and powder my nose."

After faking a slight chuckle, Melissa watched as Mike stood up from the booth and made his way past her--before turning her attention back towards Lance; furrowing her eyebrows in confusion as she realized she had a million questions running through her mind at the moment. One of them happening to be: If he's such a pop star, why is he wasting his time in a place like this, with a bodyguard who just happens to look like Rupaul in heat.

Choosing her word's carefully, she addressed the question by using the exact same words Sam had used on her earlier, "If you don't mind me asking..what brings you to a dump like this?"

Watching him chuckle, she was shocked as he pointed a finger towards her, before vaguely stating...

"You."