The phone rang beside his bed, bringing screeching pain into his sleeping ear. He jumped at the sound, and opened his eyes quickly. 11:15 AM. Stupid Phone. He reached his muscular arm out from underneath the blankets and grabbed the phone off its receiver. "Hello?" he answered, his deep voice thick with sleep.
"Lance?" JC's voice questioned, "Are you asleep?"
Lance rolled his eyes and thought about hanging up the phone, "Do I sound like I'm asleep?"
JC laughed. Lance had been doing a lot of partying lately, and it was obvious by the hour and his tone that last night had been a good one, "I'm in the studio right now, but I get off at 6 or so... you ready for the party?"
Lance scratched his stubbly chin, half paying attention to JC, "yeah... part... right..." he yawned.
"LANCE!" JC raised his voice, "you didn't forget did you?"
"Of course I didn't..." Lance lied. He honestly had NO idea what JC was talking about. But hey, he figured, a party was never a bad thing.
"Good," JC smiled, "because everyone is gonna be at your place at 8, and since you have everything under control... I guess you don't need my help, right?"
"Right?" Lance agreed absently. "Wait.... what'd you say!?"
"Chill out man... and I'll see you at 8!" JC rushed a response and hung up.
The dial tone hit Lance like a rock... he had 10 hours to put together Chris' entire 32nd birthday party. "Shit!" he cursed himself and threw back the blankets. He tossed his bare legs over the edge of the bed and bent down to pick his jeans off the floor. Pulling them on quickly, he rushed to his closet to find a t-shirt.
Just as he was pulling on his shirt, he heard the doorbell ring downstairs. "You've gotta be kidding me..." he grabbed a pair of socks from his drawer, and on the way out stubbed his toe on the corner of his desk. He gimped the rest of the way to the door in pain, and opened it slowly.
"HEY!" a voice yelled from behind a stack of boxes, and decorations. "Can you give me a hand here?" the voice that Lance recognized as Joey's asked.
Lance grabbed a few boxes off of the top and finally saw Joey's grinning face. He turned around and set the boxes behind him.
Joey laughed, seeing Lance's struggle... "You look like CRAP man!" He had to put his boxes down on top of Lance's quickly in an effort not to drop them.
"Thanks," Lance wrinkled his nose and frowned. "What is all this stuff anyway?"
"Come help me get the rest out of my car..." Joey motioned for Lance to follow him. Lance slipped on a pair of flip flops in the hall closet and gimped after. "It's stuff for Chris' party.... I figured you wouldn't be ready, and hey... who can throw a party better than a Fatone, right?"
"So why aren't YOU having the party?" Lance grumbled as he grabbed a box out of the trunk of Joey's car.
"Ha, nice try, you offered man," Joey reminded him.
They spent the next 5 hours unloading Joey's car, unpacking the boxes, and putting up decorations on Lance's back porch, where the party was to be held.
"WATCH IT!" Lance yelled at Joey, who was swinging decorations about, nearly knocking things off the edge of the porch. "This is glass!" he snatched a lantern from beneath Joey's feet.
"Chill out man!" Joey laughed, jumping down from where he was hanging some decorations above the doorway.
Lance tried to take a deep breath, but the whole patience gig hadn't been coming as easy lately as it had before. "Just... be careful!" he reminded Joey.
"I will!" Joey promised, and rushed into the house. "I'm going to set up some drinks!"
"JOEY!" Lance scolded, "The party's not until 8..." he began but froze when he heard something inside the house shatter. He was finally out of his hangover and for some reason he felt a big headache looming just inside the kitchen.
"Whoops!" Joey laughed.
Lance rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw Joey, a peeled banana in one hand, the blender in the other, and a shattered glass on the floor. "You klutz..." Lance shook his head, and went to the closet to get his beloved hand-held Hoover. He pushed past Joey, who had continued to make his drink, and sucked up the small shards of glass on the rug before dumping the rest in the trash and vacuuming the rug again.
"You really do need to chill..." Joey smirked as he roamed the refrigerator for an addition to his drink.
What was it with people lately? He went out every night, stayed in bed all day... and hardly did anything BUT chill. Yet, everyone seemed to accuse him of being uptight. What more could he do? "What do you mean Joe!?" Lance snapped.
"Dude..." Joey's eyes widened at Lance's sudden volume. He grabbed the strawberry ice cream he found in the freezer and pulled it out. "I mean... YOU. NEED. TO. CHILL!"
"You must be outta your tree... because..." Lance started his tirade.
"Because all you DO is chill, I know..." Joey rolled his eyes.
Lance's mouth fell open, "how did you..."
Joey stopped what he was doing and faced Lance, "you REALLY think you're fooling everyone with this whole party boy act? I mean, really, do you?"
"I..." Lance had no excuse.
"Well? you're not fooling me one bit Lance," Joey nearly laughed, "I've known you since we were practically KIDS man..." he shook his head and grinned, "I know you better than you know yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lance got defensive.
"It means... I know exactly what's going on in that head of yours... underneath the blonde highlights... beneath the green eyes the teenie's swoon over... I know..." Joey smiled proudly. "I know JC called you this morning... that's not rocket science, but let me guess... 11 o'clock, you were sleeping, hangover from last night? you were out 'til... oh, 3 in the morning, I'd say?"
"How do you know this stuff!?" Lance asked, amazed.
"I told you man," Joey smiled and sliced the banana into his smoothie, "I know you better than you know yourself."
"Oh yeah? Then tell me something I don't know!" Lance challenged.
"Ok," Joey agreed and threw away his peel in the trash. "Want to know why everyone still says you're uptight?"
"Sure," Lance tried to hide his enthusiasm. "Enlighten me."
"Because no matter HOW hard you try..." Joey grinned, "You'll ALWAYS have that stick up your butt!"
Lance's face wrinkled in disgust and insult. "That's not..."
"Hear me out," Joey stopped him, "you'll always have that stick up your butt, because man... that's who you are. You're Lance. You're my little brother. You're YOU. You may fool everyone else, but I've been there bro, and I know what its like."
Lance's face registered something, as did his head. Joey was right, he was always right when it meant the most. He was right without even trying, and that really irked Lance.
"Don't be mad..." Joey smiled and held his hands up in defense, "it's who you are..." He laughed, "I'm just cleaning house."
Lance smiled at the double meaning behind Joey's words? "Yeah..." he rolled his eyes at his old friend, "just cleaning house."
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