That was fucking priceless to watch Carson's jaw fall when Lance translated what Oshannie had said! It's been stuck on replay in my mind every time the cameras go off and I see Carson or think of my sister. She went for the hypothetical jugular on that one and got a direct hit. Just as we go to a commercial and Carson looks at me, I begin chortling. It's a good feeling of not being the person that had set her off, it had been so fucking hysterical to me. "What's so funny, C?" Chris inquires, giving me the look that insinuates insanity.
"Damn, Carson's face when Lynni asked him that question."
Chris recalls it as the other guys do and they all snigger about it, just long enough for the last half a minute before the end of the commercials. "Shut up," Carson mutters, his head in his hand until a stagehand tells him ten seconds and the seven of us fall silent as we await for the endless seconds to pass.
We finish the interview, head for the van and laugh like a pack of hyenas the entire way to the hotel. I realize my phone is vibrating in my pocket after entering the elevator, answering it as fast I could with a quick glance over the name on the caller ID. "What's up, Lynni?"
"Just wanted to make sure you're still laughing."
"Yes, we are and Carson was embarrassed as fuck."
"She aims, she shoots, jugular!" she announces, chortling after. It's from being in a military family and joining another.
I laugh at that and Lance gives me a funny look, shaking his head. "Girl, you're awful! It had me cracking up every time the cameras went off."
"You were thinking of me or looking at Carson," she states, knowing me too well.
"Oh, yeah."
"Kool-Aid man says, 'oh yeah!'," she says, imitating the voice of the character and I chuckle. She's in a great mood and I wonder why. It's probably due to a couple awesome compliments from fans and a flawless show or two.
"You want me to die laughing?"
"Of course, that way you'll die happy," she justifies her death by laughter theory.
"Really, little girl?"
"Yes, Oshai. Only downfall to that plan is that you're gonna live till the end of eternity."
"Nah, I'll die before I'm 90."
"Jeeze, just lower your expectations," she quips.
"I'll live for what'll seem like the end of eternity, but it really won't be."
"Never mind," she tells me, giggling wildly.
"What are you up to right now?"
"Impatiently waiting to get to Phoenix in a few days and dancing my butt off." She won't swear with Kevin around because he'll slap the back of her head or flick her ear.
"We can't wait either," I confess on the whole group's behalf, positive they feel the same way.
"Oh! Gotta go! Don't want to be put on lockdown! Love you! Tell my guys I love em too!" she rattles off, hanging up as fast as she can.
Fatima makes lockdown hell for anyone on it. She's given me specifics and I know that she's in rehearsal right now, her phone on silent. She has ADHD like Chris, only worse and she forces herself to focus enough to be able to perform flawlessly. She even puts in more time than the Boys do, especially on her own. Dancing is a passion of hers and she never complains about how draining it can be at times, only focusing on entertaining the audience.
"JC!" Wade screams at me.
I snap out of my daze and exit the elevator. "What's up?"
"You sure you're going to get up tomorrow?"
A text showing up on my cell is from the baby- 'wake up call time?'
I send her 5:30, knowing it'll give me 15 minutes to talk to her. "I'm beyond sure."
The most annoying sound emanates from the nightstand behind me and I try slapping what I believe is the clock. I pull on it and it detaches too easily from it's power source, cracking open one eye to see my cell phone in my hand. I look at the display and see my sister's name lighting it up. "Why so early?" I ask.
"It's the time you texted me," she replies groggily, her voice scratchy.
I look at the bedside clock and rub my eyes, trying to begin to wake up. She's right, it's 5:30 alright. "Right. Morning."
"I woke ya?"
"Yeah," I confirm, stretching. "It's ok though, I asked you to. How's the tour?"
"Eh, same as always-chaos."
"Still with…?"
"Yes, Oshai." I hear her get up and go into the bathroom, starting the water. "Maybe not in six months."
"Why?"
"Don't feel the same."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I love him but I'm not in love with him."
"You fell out of love?"
"With him, yes."
"So, who has it now?"
"Nobody. Don't get it twisted, I do have crushes on a few people, but it's not the same."
"Like who?" I ask, getting off the bed and grabbing a set of clothes.
"Abs Breen, Drew Lachey, Justin, Usher and Devvie," she quietly lists.
"Wait, Justin as in the one I work with?"
"Um, yeah," she sheepishly admits.
I chuckle. "Alright, it's cool."
"You don't care?"
"No, I care, but I can't control your emotions. Who have you had a crush on the longest?"
We are waiting for our flight to Phoenix to arrive, albeit impatiently. In the next 6 hours, we will be boarding a plane to fly there and spend the next two and a half days with her. I suppose we have to tolerate the Boys and figure out when we should be able to see her again, to catch up. Lance and Justin are guessing the Billboard Awards in December, the rest of us think it's going to be when her stint with the Boys ends in the next few weeks. "It landed!" Chris shouts, putting his face and hands against the glass like a child would do if they saw a toy they want through a store front window.
"The people have to exit it first," Justin reminds him, bored of waiting. He's been sitting back in one of the airport chairs, his head resting on the back of the seat and texting a few people.
Lance and Joey have been talking about the upcoming leg of our ANSU tour, laughing about the shit we could do together.
Chris has been pacing as he waits. Me? I've been writing up a storm for some odd reason and it's not for anything other than to let out some emotions I've kept pent up for far too long. "C, let's go," Justin tells me, tugging on my shirt sleeve.
I put my sister's notebook and pencil into my bag, falling in step with them fairly quickly. We hand over the tickets to the staff and board, settling in for a short flight. I place my headphones on and press play on my CD player, relaxing entirely.
We land and Joey pinches me, pointing to the window. I put my discman away, getting ready to get off and exit. I search for my sister in the almost deserted airport, not recognizing her immediately. Justin bumps me, Jazz enveloped in his arms. "You blend in too well."
"I missed you guys, Preab!" she announces, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck with a smile on her face. She says something in Irish and Justin kisses her nose, Lance looks shocked for a split second before she's passed to him without her feet touching the floor.
"Bitty," Lance sighs, hugging her as tight as he can.
"Bunky," she coos.
"Bunky?!" Chris, Joey and I repeat, laughing at it.
Lance just proved that he knows how to use his middle finger. "Bitty, conas atá a bhfuil tú suas? Bhí sé maith duit? Á sé macánta? Is gá dúinn a dó buille le taithí bás in aice? Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú ag déileáil leo? An bhfuil tú gar do aon cheann de na damhsóirí? An bhfuil tú ag mothú ceart go leor? Tá tú ag ithe go maith?"
"Everything is going good."
"Great," he says, a comforted smile appearing.
She walks over to Joey and hugs him, groaning happily and he reciprocates it. "You grew."
"I'm not sure."
We get to the hotel and settle into the rooms on the opposite wall from hers. "Jazz, can we talk?" Nick asks, having watched her make sure we're all set from near his room.
"Just a minute, Nicky." She turns back to me. "Five thirty tonight? Just for you and I to get up to par." She smiles, hugging me before jogging to him and he steps aside to allow her inside the room.
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