After tossing from one side of the bed to the other-before turning right back around towards his original position, Lance struggled to fight himself into a comfortable position. "Dammit, it wasn't my fault."

It had been like this for almost six hours-ever since he had come back to the hotel after seeing Melissa. And now, after realizing he had just screamed out loud to no one in particular, he sit up on his bed; fully giving up on the idea of ever being able to sleep for the night. At least, for now anyways.

Turning on the bedside lamp, he quickly brought his glasses to his face, and then the remote to his hands; turning on the TV in front of him in hopes of finding something interesting enough to keep him entertained.

"Boring...Boring...Too deep...Not deep enough...Scary looking people...Seen it...Hated it." Sighing, Lance flipped the channels absentmindedly until it landed on a decent program. MTV. "Perfect."

Setting the remote control down beside him, Lance pulled the comforter on the bed closer to him; trying to make himself a little more comfortable...that is, trying to make himself a little more comfortable until he focused on what was really on the TV screen.

"What the hell is that?"

Singing on national television, was England's very own Robbie Williams-the man Lance had once looked up to for a brief time when him and the rest of N'sync were just starting out.

Wincing at what he saw, Lance remembered while Robbie was not so gracefully switching over from a group deal to a solo project, Lance had gone to a couple of the man's concerts in Europe, and nothing that Robbie had done in any of those arenas could've prepared him for what the man was doing now: stripping out of his body.

"This is just...gross."

Watching for a few more minutes until the graphic parts of the video-or better yet the graphic parts of Robbie's body-got to be too much, Lance turned the TV off. Figuring he'd rather have a night of tossing and turning, any day, than a night filled with nightmares about human flesh being ripped off.

Gross.

After what felt like forever, Lance's eyes started to feel heavy; telling him he was about to fall asleep.

"Finally." He mumbled; putting the menu-he'd been reading out of sheer boredom-down, before turning off the lamp beside him. "Now to get some sleep."

It seemed like just as soon as the word's came out of his mouth, his cellphone began to ring; sending him into a fit of mild cursing. "God dammit...not literally."

Sighing, he quickly searched around for his phone in the dark; figuring that it was either his Mom or one of the guys calling to check up on him. "H'lo?" He mumbled, sleep evident in his voice. But as he got no response, he cleared his throat; trying once again. "Hello?"

Once more, he got no answer, and was preparing to hang up the phone; figuring some fan had got his number, and had become shell-shocked as soon as he answered it. But just as he was about to hit 'end' a voice that he figured he'd never forget spoke up, causing him to sit up; sleep momentarily forgotten.

"Melissa?"

Their was a brief pause on the phone, before she spoke up again, "Yeah..it's me. I-uh-hope I'm not calling you too late."

Hearing a slight sigh of relief over the phone, Melissa could feel her heart stop beating so fast; a sign that she hoped meant she'd done the right thing by calling him.

"No, I jus-how'd you get this number?"

Melissa's stomach dropped at the question. Realizing that maybe she had heard wrong, and that his sigh of relief had really been one of anger. She could only guess that that meant the business card he'd left with his number on it-the one she'd thought he left for her, was really left by accident. That is, she assumed that was the case until he quickly answered his own question; causing her to calm down slightly. "Nevermind, Mike must've left it for you....I'm glad you called."

"Really?" She asked. Nervousness fully evident in her voice. "I-uh-thought you might not want to talk to me. You know, after what happened earlier."

"Part of me didn't..." Lance stated truthfully, after a second; causing Melissa's embarassement-over the ordeal-to come back in full force. "But that's just because I'm not used to being told off in public. By a woman no less."

Melissa knew she should've stopped herself from saying her next comment, but her lips-which sometimes had a mind of their own-just didn't want to work with her at the moment, "Yeah, I kind've figured with all the screaming of praise you get from your fans, it would be hard to talk to a woman who wasn't drooling all over your body."

Even though Lance's bit of laughter-that was silently telling her he wasn't mad at the comment-was heard through the phone, Melissa still couldn't stop herself from wishing the floor would just open up and shut her up.

"I don't know whether to get angry with you over that one, or thank you for the compliment. But I have to admit you're going to fit right in with all those, quote-unquote, big shot celebrities."

Slightly surprised at the fact, Melissa couldn't help but smile genuinely for a second. But the smile was soon gone as the question that had been in her mind-ever since she had left work earlier that day-slipped back into her thoughts, "Before we talk about if I should be joining the 'celebrity' world or not, I just have to know something."

Even though Lance wanted to scold Melissa, and tell her that with her sort've voice there would be no question as to whether or not she was going to be joining the music business-BUT a question as to why she hadn't joined already-he didn't. Instead, raising an eyebrow, even though he knew she couldn't see him, he questioned her about what was on her mind. "Ask away."

"How'd you find me? I mean...how'd you know where I was?"

At the question, his expression changed from questioning to slight smugness, "Well, I wish I could say it was because of me having my ways. But really, truth be known, Mike and I just went back to the 'house of blues', and a waiter there said he didn't know you personally, but had occasionally seen you coming from 'The Pancake House'. And-to make a long story short, after a bit of intimidating-what he's known for doing to people, Mike quickly found out you had just recently quit working there, and were now hanging out at a coffee shop called 'PJ's'. Where I found you."

Their was a brief pause as Melissa took in the information; Lance figuring she was surprised that he had gone to such great lengths just to find her.

But as soon as she spoke again, Lance realized that wasn't the case, as her voice didn't change from questioning to surprised-as he would've assumed, but went from questioning to even more questioning; causing him to feel slightly worried, "Who..who told you at 'The Pancake House' where I worked?"

"Your old manager, from what I gathered." Lance answered, while shrugging inwardly, "Why? Is there something going on that I should know of? I mean, not to scare you or anything, but by hanging out with me, and letting me be your manager, your life is going to get a little crazy. A lot of people are going to want to know who you are, where you're from, and anything else they can get their hands on. So, it's better if you get everything out now before I bring you into this situation."

There was another slight pause-this one being longer than before. But after a couple more seconds, Melissa finally spoke up again; calming Lance's fears. "There's nothing in my past. I just....."

"You just what?" Lance inquired, figuring that he was in the 'safe', but wondering if there was more to her past than Melissa was letting on.

"I just....want to know where I sign."

Sunday, March 12, 2000 (Three days later)

Staring out the window, Melissa couldn't help but clutch her journal in her hands. It had been like this for the past two years-her taking the book wherever she went. She had always used it to try and get all her feelings and thoughts down; most of the time using the book to determine whether or not she was making the right decisions or not.

But now as she sat on a plane, heading towards Orlando with two people she barely even knew-a moment where she should've been writing until her heart felt content-she suddenly didn't feel like writing at all. Or better yet, she suddenly didn't feel like wanting to write at all.

"Having second thoughts?"

Jumping slightly, Melissa turned foreword facing Mike; one of the three people who had sort've pushed her to make her dreams come true. "Is it that obvious?"

Mike flashed her a warm smile-well, as warm as a man twice the size of her could be-before shaking his head; telling her 'no'.

"Not by first glance anyway. I just know that look. I've seen it on a lot of people in this business; myself included."

Raising an eyebrow at this, Melissa silently urged him to go on. Hoping that whatever the outcome of his story was-would help her nerves calm down a little.

"Don't look so surprised, I never wanted to be a bodyguard. Hell, up until three years ago I never dreamed of being anything other than a police officer."

Surprised by this, Melissa couldn't help but want to make a joke about it; even though her nerves were kicking in full force.

"I know what you're thinking, and yes, I have had a lot of donuts in my life, thank-you-very-much." Mike said, matter-factly, before she could even open her mouth; causing Melissa to blush slightly. "Anyway, Johnny, sleepyhead over there's manager, was an old friend of mine from college. And one day out of the blue, he just showed up at the station; approaching me about this N'sync gig."

Pausing briefly, as if remembering that day, he continued. "Well, anyway, after taking me out for lunch, and feeding me some ole b.s story about me being the only strong black honest man he knew. I guess, he figured I wouldn't have a problem with saying yes to his offer, and that I would, without even thinking about, just up and leave my life behind. Girlfriend and job included."

Realizing slightly how close to home Mike's story was hitting, Melissa nodded-mentally telling him she understood-before speaking up again; asking him two meaningful questions, "So, what did you do? I mean, what gave you the push to take John-I mean, Mr. Wright's offer."

Smiling slightly at her slip-up, Mike shrugged lightly at the question, "I'm not really sure whether it was the fact that I knew I was in a dead end relationship. Or whether it was the fact that I knew by me staying in the police force, I'd continue pushing papers while the other-more fit-workers got to do the whole hero thing. But I do know, that I remember sitting beside my mama's grave, thinking to myself if I didn't take a chance and didn't try something new, well..let's just say I'd have more to regret than I'd have if I went."

Pausing briefly, Melissa hesitantly asked her next question, "Do you regret...I mean, do you think that if your mama was still here, she'd be pleased with you? I mean, after quitting your job and going after something you didn't know, at the time, was a sure thing or not."

Noting the way she asked the question, Mike couldn't help but inwardly sigh. Realizing she was another outcome of a child having to grow up too soon.

Choosing his next words carefully, knowing that whatever he said in the next two seconds could possibly either help Melissa along the way or make her feel as if she was making the biggest mistake of her life; Mike answered openly and honestly. "I think that on some level she wouldn't be too pleased with it, but that's just because while she was here on earth, she didn't like the fact that I was a cop; saying it was one of the deadliest professions known to man. But, on the other hand, I know she wouldn't have tried to stop me. Not surprisingly of course, giving me her approval-had she been there when I was approached with the job offer."

Making sure he had Melissa's full attention, he began breaking it down for her. In hopes that it'd make her think a little; choosing what she thought was right for her in this situation.

"The reason why I know this isn't because that's just who she was, but because what some people don't seem to understand about parents-moms sometimes more than dads-is that they only want what's best for their children. Meaning, they only want them to reach for their dreams; not anybody else's. And to be frank about it....I think if your mama was here, she would've wanted the same for you."

Waiting for Melissa's gasp at his declaration, to end, he continued on; slightly surprising her even more, "I think she really would've wanted you to go for your dreams. I think she even told you she wanted you to go for them. And if your dream's really are meant for you to be sitting across from me right now, on your way to Orlando, ready to sign a record deal, then there's no doubt in my mind that she wouldn't have given you the opportunity and her approval of doing so. Hell, I'm sure if you weren't on this plane, I think she would've been damn pissed at you if you hadn't done so."

"How-How do you know that?"

Pausing to wipe the tear, that Melissa hadn't even known was running down her face, Mike shrugged; wanting to leave the girl with a little insight before he stepped back; shutting up for the rest of the plane ride, "That's easy...I don't. The only person who does is her. And that's only because you haven't asked yet."

After a second of sniffling back the tears that Mike's words had caused her, Melissa nodded silently-sending him a mental thank you-before doing what she hadn't done in a long time; taking the book in her hands and opening it to a fresh page. Knowing exactly what to write.

Dear Momma....I did it.