I yawned and boredly watched Clint beat Killer Instinct for, oh, the sixth time? There was next to nothing left to do! Dad had stepped out to set up the rehearsal hall with a bunch of the people we were traveling with, leaving Clint and I to fend for ourselves and wait for Scott and Dave to return from Hansonland.

"Yes. I win. Again," Clint said, with no enthusiasm in his voice at all. I laughed.

"If Zac was here, you wouldn't be so excited."

"Well, if Zac wanted to challenge me in Road Rash, I'd win. Besides, no offense to Zac or anything, but screw him. If Dave was here, we'd be having fun."

"Why can't we ever think of constructive things to do without Dave?" I wondered.

"I dunno. It's like one third is missing, and anyway, we can't function with only the two of us doing evilry. We have to have someone to blame."

"So true, so true."

I stood, stretched, and walked around the room for just the heck of it.

"What the hell are you doing, exercising?" Clint rolled his eyes.

"Maybe if I try hard enough, I'll find a stain on the carpet to look at, and then I won't be bored anymore," I replied. "God, Scott and Dave must be having fun with the Hansons. We should go along next time."

"I don't feel like I mesh with them well. Well, Zac's cool, but Taylor sort of intimidates me," Clint sighed. "You just look at him and think, 'perfectionist preppy boy.'" He adjusted the pillow beneath his head.

"Whatever you say, Clint, I think he's all right. Yeah. Ike's funny, too. You know what, you, me, and Ike should all hang out, if Zac, Dave, Scott, and Taylor are all going to be dickholes and go off." I came to the window, paused and looked outside to the bright and blurry Los Angeles scenery. Actually, there was nothing but highways and cars and streets where we were, and maybe a palm tree planted around in specific places, but I kind of liked it.

"I wonder what was so deathly important with that envelope Scott practically ripped away from me," Clint was wondering aloud.

"Pro'lly nothing," I said, spotting one of our tour vans outside on the street. It held instruments - we took taxis.

"Doesn't seem like it." Clint rolled over onto his side away from me and sighed. "DAMMIT, BOB, I'M BORED!"

"Gee, sorry." I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Just, I dunno, whack off or something. We have that photo shoot to go to in about -" (I paused and checked), "- a little under an hour."

"Wow, they'd better get their asses back here soon."

"Yup. Then again, I wouldn't mind having a photo-shoot all to myself."

"Heh heh heh . . . me, neither."

"Hey, Clint."

"No."

"I didn't even ask you -"

"What?"

"Is it just me, or . . . or does Tay seem kind of . . ."

"Blond?"

"Blond and . . ."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Yeah, kinda, but . . ."

"Do you think Scott . . . ?"

"BUWAHAHA, no."

"Yeah, he does seem to be rather obsessed with girls."

Scott

Dave and I looked up.

"Hey, David, Shcotty, you guys here? I guess they're still at Zac and Taylor's," Clint's voice was saying. I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could just stay in the closet for the rest of my existence. The last thing I needed was for Clint and Bob, who were already edgy about what we were keeping from them, to start questioning me about why Dave and I were in the tiny closet.

"Oh, fork. The photo-shoot," Dave muttered.

"Photo-shoot?" I questioned.

"Um, yeah, yesterday afternoon, Capitol called to say they'd booked us a photo-shoot on the beach. We have to do that, then we have rehearsal," Dave informed me. I felt like kicking the wall in. Dammit! I fucking didn't want to go to some God damn photo-shoot, where I'd have to act all happy and be energetic and smile for the camera and stuff. I would probably end up breaking the camera with the death stares I could feel myself giving.

"Mmm," I moaned, so not wanting to even move, such the angry state I was in.

"Suck it up, Scott," Dave sighed, his attitude shifting. I felt even worse. I hadn't wanted to ruin Dave's sweet humor. He leaned over and opened the closet door from the inside.

I heard Bob yelp. "Oh my God, you guys are in the closet?!"

"Hm hm, yup," Dave laughed, and crawled out.

"Um, why?" poked Clint, just as I knew he would.

"I'm looking for my shoes," I snapped, kicking some shoes against the wall. They smacked against it and thonked onto the floor. I crossed my arms and sank down as far as I could go, feeling the well of tears lapping at my eyes. That just made me even angrier. With me, tears came so easily, and I lost self-control when I was upset, and I could never make myself stop acting like a child.

"Just leave him alone. He's upset because of what happened earlier."

"Well, what happened earlier?" they both asked, almost in unison, like the chorus to an annoying song.

"Mind your own!" I retorted. Why couldn't they just do that? Grr!

"Scott, what the hell is wrong with you? I don't know why you're suddenly so pissy and you're being all secretive with Dave and your friends. But I think we have a right to know why that is!" Bob said, ever using his pointed logic. Sometimes, Bob could shock you, because when he often seemed dead to the world, he was actually quite up-to-speed. This time, his speediness was just aggravating.

I crawled to the door and stepped out of the closet, stalking forwards. "I have no idea why you guys think you have the right to know what's bothering me! I wish Dave didn't even know, but unfortunately, he had to be eavesdropping on me! What's going on with me right now is personal, and maybe I'll tell you if you would quit acting like it's such a big deal you don't know something me and Dave do."

"Scott, fuck off. I don't care why you're so damn bitchy! I'm just concerned about making it to the shoot and rehearsal, I mean, you couldn't even find it in yourself to come to the interview this morning! Now, I would like to help you and tell you I'm sorry for whatever is up your ass, but you don't need to take it out on us!" Clint argued. Rushes of anger and dismay flooded my body, making me tingle and break out into an uncomfortable sweat. My hands trembled as I clenched them into fists at my side.

"Why is everybody saying that to me today? Fuck you, Scott! Fuck you! We hate you! We wish you would die, because then girls might like us for a change. Thank you, Clint. Thank you for just making me even more suicidal than I already feel."

I put my hand on my head, an onslaught of dizziness coming to me for the second time that day.

"Scott?" all three of my brothers' voices questioned, but it was just a jumble of voices in my head, as I felt my knees buckle and a blanket of darkness being wrapped around me on my way onto the floor.

Dave

"Oh my God." Bob peered down at the ground, where Scott's body was in a heap, his hair spread out on the floor and his limbs motionless and limp.

Clint stared in shock. I panicked. "Scott?"

I bent down and looked at his face. His eyes were blank, but they were open, looking around as if he couldn't see anything, even me, right in front of his face.

"Oh my God, I didn't mean it," Clint blurted, his voice wavering, on the edge of tears himself.

"It's not your fault. I told you he's upset. I don't think he's eaten today, either," I replied, calming myself and shaking Scott a little bit. Then, we all shrieked as there were a few short raps at the door. We all looked at each other helplessly. Clint's chest jumped as he tried to hold back the frightened tears. I did not need any more shit than I'd gotten today, so I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Clint. Man. It's not your fault. It's something beyond anyone's control. If you really want to know, it's all about these incriminating pictures Taylor and Scott have both gotten that have stressed them out. Believe me, I'd like to go into it, but I promised both Taylor and Scott I wouldn't. Get a grip and help me move Scott to the couch."

Clint seemed to rely on my words, and nodded. Bob and I each took one of Scott's arms, and Clint manned his legs, and on the count of three, we all hoisted Scott's slim body into the air and managed to carry him over to the sofa. He shivered in my arms as I adjusted his weak limbs so he wouldn't he halfway falling off the couch.

"Why don't you get a washcloth wet and put it on his forehead," I suggested to Clint. Then I instructed Bob to go get a Pepsi from the fridge in the kitchenette of the suite. I shook Scott a little as my twin brothers went to their duties. "Scott."

Scott's eyes focused in on me, and I offered him a smile. But to my surprise, his face squinched up and he burst into another round of tears. My God, I'd had no idea how deep the fault was getting! I bent and stroked his hot forehead and whispered,

"Scott . . . shh . . . it's okay. Everything will be fine. I promise."

Scott shook his head, and his voice moaned feebly, "I've been such a fucking ass."

"What's done is done," I assured him. "You can't change what's happening, but you can change how you're dealing with it. I know this is hard. But you're not alone."

Scott looked away, and I watched the fresh tears pour our the corner of his eyes and run down his cheeks into his ears and hair. "No . . . I am alone. I'm with you, but I'm still alone."

I sucked a breath in and suddenly understood. He was alone without him. Bob returned with a can of Pepsi and cracked it open.

I'd forgotten about the knocks at the hotel door until they sounded again, and I stood up straight again. "I'll get that. Scott, you drink unless you want it fed to you through a tube." Scott looked intimidated.

I spun on my heel and marched to the door. The peep-hole I gazed through revealed Zac Hanson standing there, waiting nonchalantly, looking down the hallway one way. For some odd reason, I felt my heart flush. I eagerly opened the door where Zac was standing with a sad look on his face. "Hi," I said, then silently cursed myself for sounding so damn eager.

Zac jumped. "Hey, I-"

"Sorry I kept you waiting," I apologized before he could say anything else. "Scott had a little bout of, um, I dunno, but he pretty much fainted."

Zac's blond eyebrows arched. "You're kidding." I shook my head. "He's not taking this very well, is he?"

"I think it's this and a full combination of things . . . no sleep, no food, emotional exertion, stress, and on top of that the entire fight."

Zac pursed his lips. "Poor Scotty. I hate to be the bearer of more bad news."