Taylor

The night ranged from fitful to luxurious as I passed between good dreams and bad, heavenly memories, and feelings of panic and guilt. I think it was safe to say that the events of the past few days were finally catching up with me as I spent that night in the bed alone. My mind would faintly register when a family member opened the hotel's bedroom door and briefly fill the room with light before shutting it again. I think Isaac and Dad came back at around midnight, and Zac shortly followed, but only grabbed something and went right back out of the room.

It was destined to be one of those awful nights where your sheets are either too hot or too cold - the perfect comfortable temperature eludes you as much as sleep itself does. When sleep comes, it only kisses you on the eyelids briefly before escaping again, and the clock on the nightstand melds from one hour to the other within seconds, yet the night seems so much longer than that.

Finally, though fatigue tore at my muscles, it was eight in the ungodly morning, and the alarm woke me up from a light and unfulfilling sleep with a scream that seemed to come from the pits of hell. The only thing that pulled me out of bed and to my suitcase for clean clothes was the thought of meeting Scott for breakfast. We'd agreed to meet at the hotel's little buffet at around eight-thirty to see what they had to offer, but they only served free breakfast till nine or so. I figured we'd probably end up going out somewhere within walking distance.

It'll be so nice to be out with him, alone, I mused as I grabbed at random clothes. Ike and Dad had fallen back asleep after the alarm woke everyone within a thirty-mile radius, so I was quiet when I exited the room. Zac had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV still on low - and I almost screamed and gagged at the same time when I realized he was watching ANIMAL PLANET.

The hot shower made my body prickle with pleasure, and I stayed as long as I dared to thinking pleasurable thoughts to counteract the night of misery I'd spent without Scott - without distraction - without passion or comfort . . . alone to my thoughts. I can pretend like everything in the world is normal. We're not famous. We're not heartthrobs. We're just out for a breakfast date . . .

God, that sounded so great, even though it was far out. Our relationship was about as abnormal as they came . . . the setting, the time constraints, our lives - everything like that made it difficult to think anything concerning us as a pair normal.

But still, what a nice thought . . . It was so nice, I let it replay in my head more.

I walked out of the bathroom in my boxers and a white t-shirt to see that Zac was awake and had changed into a pair of jeans with huge holes in the knees (aw, they reminded me of Scott . . .) and a blue and white baseball camp t-shirt. He sat brushing his hair, then almost jumped on my head as soon as I got a foot into the room.

"TaylorIcouldn'twakeyoulastnightbutohmyGodTaywegot--"

"Woah," I said loudly, holding my hand up at his onslaught. He stood in front of me with earnest eyes and something in his hand that he'd grabbed off the table in his leap towards me. "Zac. Go slow, for Christ's sake. And talk to me while I'm dressing, I have to be out of here in a minute."

"Well, don't go anywhere without a fucking bodyguard or something, Tay," spat Zac. "May I present to you Exhibit A, an entire package of pictures of you?" He waved around the package in his hand.

"Huh?" I couldn't help letting out, confused.

"Taylor, to make a long story short, Dave and I were snooping around in some employee's office and found a roll of film, took a chance, got it developed, and guess what, surprise surprise, the photographer has a badass case of Taylor-worship."

I didn't even notice my shirt slip from my fingers.

"Zac!!! Are you telling me you found who's stalking me and Scott???!"

"Well, I still don't know for sure, but I do think these look pretty similar to the others, and believe me, if you saw this guy's office, you'd see where I was coming from."

"His office? Who is he?"

"I'm not sure of his name, Tay," Zac admitted. "He's a security guard for the hotel, and the nametag on his desk said . . ." I death-glared him when he paused. He squeaked. "T. Hanson."

Taylor's eyes widened and deadened at the same time.

"Zac," he instructed me softly, "call the Moffatts' room."

Dave

"Mmmng," I managed as a cruel and twisted presence shook my side. It stopped and I faded back into sleep until a loud and hissy whisper filled my ear.

"DAVID MOFFATT!!!)(!@#$!)!~~!!"

"Wha - I'm up!" I sat up abruptly though I was still half asleep, and wearily registered Scott digging through my suitcase. Something clicked. "Ooh, Scott - I have to tell you something . . ."

"Save it, I know," Scott answered, clothes that he had chucked at me smacked me in the face. "Get dressed, you have to come with me."

"Where? Why? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the buffet to meet Taylor, and you're coming with me."

"Why, now?" I pressed.

"Because Zac said to bring you! Now get dressed!! Come on!"

"Zac said? . . ."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and shivered, then sleepily got dressed, hoping I was coherent enough to put on all my clothes correctly.

Down in the cool, air-conditioned lounge where the buffet was set up, I was musing that one could probably ice skate on the carpet, it was kept so cold. Below freezing, even. I shivered and wished Scott had thrown me a long-sleeved shirt or a hoodie. It was bad enough that he'd thrown me leather pants and a tight white t-shirt. I looked like a Backstreet Boy or something. I guess not every shiver was from the cold, then.

Scott and I hung back against the far wall until we saw the two blondes walk in, one with wet hair and the other looking like he could snap the first one in half. Then, I swear I could feel the charge of happiness pass through Scott. He stepped forward.

"You awake?" he asked them, and they headed over towards us.

"No," replied Zac sourly. Then, he looked at me and cocked a brow. Eugh, he was probably thinking something along the Dave Looks Like A Backstreet Boy line, too.

"I am in definite need of food," Tay lamented. "Good morning, anyway."

"They have an extensive variety of soggy doughnuts and rubbery fruit," I spoke, not too enthralled with the great meals the DoubleTree were providing to start off their guests' day.

"We missed the pancakes and French toast then? Dammit," Zac frowned.

Taylor was the first to say it. "Let's just go somewhere else. I'm in the mood for some coffee and waffles, myself. I bet there's an IHOP around here somewhere."

"Or at least somewhere that serves breakfast," I nodded.

"Then we can look at those pictures of yours," Scott piped, and I realized Zac had the package of photos in his hand. With a slight nod, our elder brothers led the way from the room.

"What, Zac, didn't bring your Glowtion?" I asked him as we followed Scott and Taylor.

"Oh no, I'm saving that for a special surprise," shot back Zac.

"What could be more special than this?" I drawled.

"Oh, hee hee." Zac's voice dropped a few notches to a low murmur, and he leaned towards me. "I think Tay-Tay's upset because we have to tag along on his little breakfast date with Scottie-poo."

"Hey, I would be in bed if I could be."

"Sick of playing Guardian Angel, D?"

I favored Zac with a smile at his reference of our conversation from last night, and decided to tease.

"No, it's just that, being an Angel makes it harder to be bad."

"Ooh. You are a nasty boy, David. One wrong move and you are taking me home, Mister. No funny stuff on the first date!"

I would have responded, but the looks Scott and Taylor suddenly threw over their shoulders caught us both off-guard. They were a special brand of "What The Hell??" looks that sent us both withering in self-consciousness.

"Hmmp. Not everyone kisses within six hours of collision," he smirked as Scott and Tay turned their attention away again.

"Not everyone has under a week to feel a lifetime of emotions," Scott replied simply, silencing us both with the sincerity and truth of his statement.

Scott

Taylor, Dave, Zac, and I walked into the lobby of the hotel self-consciously, now not so much cautious as literally afraid of what might be lurking in the shadows. Taylor's head immediately turned in the direction of the small café in the corner of the lobby, tucked between the gift shop and a tiny newspaper stand. They were all quite deserted at this hour, though there appeared to be a few hotel patrons checking out that morning.

"Coffee." Taylor's voice was practically dragging on the floor, it was so low and pitiful.

"Someone needs a fix," Zac rolled his eyes.

"I'll get you some coffee, Taylor," I offered, reaching back for the wallet in my back pocket.

"That's okay," he reached out and touched my hand briefly before taking it back quickly in realization.

"No, really, I want some too. So I'll be right back."

I grinned at Taylor and stepped away from the group towards the little café.

"Oh, hell. Wait for me," Zac grumbled, and joined me. Taylor and Dave shot glances at each other.

"Okay, we're going to sit down," Dave said, and headed slightly after us to one of the very small black wrought iron tables sitting in the corner. Zac and I walked like the tired slabs of flesh we both were to the small counter and waited for the woman who was doing something back in the kitchen area to come out and serve us.

I gazed thoughtfully up at the menu, blowing my bangs out of my face with a puff of air, then glanced back at Taylor and Dave taking opposite seats from each other at a table a ways away. I turned to his brother, standing as tall as me, if not taller, by my side.

"What does Tay want, do you know? I probably should have asked."

"Black coffee, I would guess. There's pro'lly sugar and cream at the table or whatever."

"Yeah. Okay. I want a French vanilla cappuccino and a large black coffee," I told the woman as she walked up the register and rang it up. I threw a look at Zac and added out of the ounce of politeness in my soul, "Wanna cappuccino or something?" He made a small face which could only be described as a look of confusion. "Aw, it's good. I'll buy you one."

The woman rang up the order and we stood as she proceeded to pour our coffees. We stood silently. Conversationally, Zac and I had nothing in common, and we'd never really talked before, a contradiction to how well I knew his brother and, I assumed, how well he knew mine. So it surprised me when he blurted,

"I gotta ask you something."

"Uh . . . sure. Ask away." I felt sooo stupid just standing there like "Uh?" And then I realized the pained look crossing Zac's face momentarily.

"Nah . . . it's stupid."

"It's okay."

"I just feel like talking to someone about it, and it's so stupid, so . . . God."

As I paid the woman with a ten dollar bill, I asked,

"What's on your mind that you can't talk to Dave about?"

Zac sighed as he took his blue Styrofoam cup and I took mine, and we searched the glass-topped counter for plastic tops to put on the coffee, and swill sticks, and napkins. He failed to answer my question within that period of time, so as we gathered up the beverages, I asked him again.

"It is Dave," he relented. "I can't really talk to Dave about himself."

"Uh, okay . . ." I said, confused and sounding more so like an idiot.

Zac looked at me for a second with his hand, which was grabbing out a napkin from a holder, still as if frozen, and he remained silent and still. I took a sip of my strong, soothing liquid, savoring the vanilla rings to it, then put the plastic lid on and stared back at him expectantly. He shrugged and mimicked me, taking a small taste, then shrugging again and taking a larger drink. Then, he licked the slight foam from his lips.

"Well, I have to say I'm surprised you're talking with me, I mean, we haven't ever said much to each other," I told him, trying to get words from him.

"Yeah, I know. But I can't talk to Tay about it, either. Or Ike. Or anybody. I guess you'll have to do," he answered, taking his swizzle-stick and playing with the disappearing foam and avoiding eye contact.

"Gee. Thanks. Glad to know your intentions are so heartfelt," I said dryly.

"Yeah," was all that Taylor's "little" brother muttered. "Well, since Tay and Dave are sitting there staring at us being slow, I guess I'll talk to you about it later."

I stared at him, more confused than ever, as he turned quickly and escaped in the direction of our brothers.

"Oh, God," I muttered as I took after him with me and Tay's coffees. "What's up with this?"