Oreos For Breakfast: Nick Fanfic

Oreos for Breakfast
Chapter 8

By The Paperbag Princess and The Pumpkin Coach

They kept screaming at each other and I tried to be invisible. It was going to be me next, we'd had a fight last night and I knew he hated me. He didn't want me here.

But Rachel did. She'd just said she loved me. I could hardly believe it. I just wanted to get her alone and make her tell me over and over again, but instead she and Jeremy were yelling at one another.

By the time I got her alone, she might have reconsidered.

Damnit, what was I going to do? My fans could surely figure out Sudden Silence's tour, it wasn't a secret. Even if they did use fake names at the hotel, a tour bus parked outside would surely give it away. Our fans always found us, there were always fans at the hotel.

Lola caught my eye and motioned me over. Reluctantly, I got up and joined her at the back of the bus, letting Rachel and Jeremy keep fighting, keeping one eye on them. I knew Rachel could take care of herself, I wasn't worried about that. I was more worried that Jeremy was going to convince her to tell me to go home.

"Can I get the number of your bodyguard?" Lola asked me, and I scowled at her.

"Why?" No Frank. I didn't want Frank here, we'd stay at a better hotel, and it would be fine.

"Because he knows your fans better than I do. Just want some helpful hints."

I considered her for a moment. She might be right. Frank made sure that no one bothered us. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed. He answered on the second ring. What time was it in Texas? Was he in Texas? He just left two weeks ago, I didn't pay attention. "Yeah," he answered.

"Frank?"

He sighed at my voice. "What, little man?"

"Rachel's tour manager wants to talk to you."

"Why? What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" I protested. "The fans found us, and you know how they are."

I could just feel the eye roll. Oh, I was definitely not ready to deal with Frank yet. "Put her on. Lola, right?"

I handed the phone to Lola and went back to the main part of the bus. Jeremy and Rachel weren't yelling anymore, they were on opposite sides of the bus, glaring at one another. I wasn't sure that was any better. Carefully, I sat next to her, feeling better when I caught James' eye and he made a face at Jeremy's back.

She glanced at me, then rested her head on my shoulder. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm sorry my fans found me."

"Bound to happen, even if the asshole across the way can't deal with it." I looked over at him, finding him glaring at the two of us. He caught my look and got up, stomping to the back of the bus. Once he was gone, she relaxed against me, and I kissed the top of her head.

"I wish I was just a regular guy, Rache," I whispered. "I don't want to screw up your life."

"Oh, it's not-" With a sigh, she stopped herself, sitting up, moving away from me. "Never mind. We can talk later. What did Lola want?"

"Frank's number." I picked up her hand, playing with her fingers. "I'm gonna go to another hotel." That'd help, right? "Will you come with me?"

She smiled. "Can it be a really good one?"

I laughed. "Sure." I started to reach for my phone, then remembered that Lola had it. Just then, she appeared, grinning at us all.

"Good news!" We all turned to her, asking what it was. "The pop star is moving us all to another hotel."

I am? Lola smirked at me. "Frank said you had to." I shrugged. Whatever.

"Steve's going to drop us at the radio station, and we're going to tell all the fans that are surely there that Nick is leaving to join the other boys in LA or something."

Hey, that was the lie Rachel and I just told. Cool.

"After the interview, we'll go back to the crappy hotel and get our things for the show, then move over to the swankest hotel the St. Louis has to offer. Frank said they have to have somewhere for the bus, too."

"Or Nick could leave, and we could get some work done," Jeremy said from behind her.

"Or he could stay, and we could stay at a four-star hotel," James said, slowly. "We'll get you a groupie and you can stop fucking with Rachel's love life, okay?"

Jeremy started to say something, but stopped at James' glare. Did James just stick up for me? "Whatever," Jeremy muttered. "But we're going to regret this later."

"That's pretty fucking doubtful." Darien interjected, "Just shut up and enjoy it, J."

Jeremy pouted, flinging himself into a seat, but the others ignored him, so I took their lead, handing over my credit card to Lola and laughing over assumed names until we got to the radio station. There were fans outside, but just a few. Still, Rachel dragged me into the back where there were no windows to kiss me good-bye. "See you later, bunny," she said.

"I love you," I told her, looking her in the eye. Say it back, say it back, I pleaded, silently.

She smiled slowly, kissing me again. "Love you, too," she whispered against my lips, and I hugged her close. I wanted to hear it again, convince myself that it was okay, we would figure this out. It was love now, we'd both said it, it wasn't a fling and it wasn't casual sex. If it was love, she'd have to stick up for me in front of Jeremy, right?

But Lola called for her again and she left.

The doors closed behind us and the fans looked disappointed. I caught the eye of one and shrugged. "He has to go." Was that convincing? I had to practice this lying stuff.

He wasn't leaving. He was going to be waiting for me at the new hotel. And he loved me! Even Jeremy's stupidity couldn't ruin my good mood. He loved me, and right now, I believed him. Maybe this wasn't just a summer fling. Even if he was way too young, maybe this would be okay. He could come with me on tour, and we could hang out all the time. And he loved my house, after the tour, he'd come back there with me, and I wouldn't have to feel like I lost another man that I loved…

I caught Jeremy scowling at me and I scowled back.

Or maybe this would be fun until his tour started up again, and then he'd be back in Backstreet land, and my boring little band and little life would seem far less interesting. I let Lola lead us into the building, staring at Jeremy's back.

I'd loved him so much once. We'd loved each other. I still wasn't sure where it went wrong, but after a while, I felt like I bored him, and he never told me otherwise. I did some pretty stupid things to make myself more interesting, and in the end, none of them worked.

God knows Damon never thought that anything I did was good enough.

Lola told the receptionist who we were, and she led us back to a conference room. The walls were covered, floor to ceiling, with posters of bands.

Girls, actually. All of us realized that at once, and my boys started elbowing each other, pointing out their favorites. I looked around. It was probably done by the sexist boys at the station, but it was still sorta cool, all these women looking down on me. Most of them were dressed, it wasn't too bad.

Except for Willa, did she ever wear clothes? She was staring down at me, and I stared back at her. What did Nick see in her? He must have loved her once, would he talk about me like he talked about her one day?

"Rachel!" James called, and I turned around to see what he wanted. He was pointing at a poster on the far wall. Hey, that was me. One of our new publicity posters, only the others had been cut out of it. I snickered, walking over to him.

"They like me best, nyah nyah," I teased and Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"I'll fucking kick you out before I let us become No Doubt." We laughed about that all the time, groovy chick singer, ex-boyfriend, we had too much in common. It was a danger, what little press we got focused more on me.

I tilted my head at him, feigning innocence. "Or maybe we should kick you out, and that way we'll lose the ex-boyfriend angle instead."

"Bitch," he growled.

"I've fucking done it before, J. You wanna start the Behind the Music angst and fight over the name?"

"Kids!" Bellowed Lola. "Can you give it a rest? Can you pretend to be nice for the next hour for the interview?"

James and I looked at each other and started singing our song 'Pretend to Be Nice.' I'd written it about Damon, but it fit for Jeremy, too.

Nick was always nice. And he never pretended. Even to the annoying fans, he was nice. I wanted to kick Jeremy for trying to ruin this for me. If he ever found someone to love, I hoped I wouldn't try to ruin it for him, even if I didn't like the woman. It had been about two years, shouldn't Jeremy and I be able to be happy for one another?

A young girl bounded into the room and stopped cold, staring at me. What?

"You're really Rachel Connor!" She shrieked and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Umm… yeah," I held out my hand and caught Jeremy glaring out of the corner of my eye. Oh, please, J, she doesn't want to fuck me. Chill.

"I'm Stacy and I'm an intern here at Q104. I love you!" She looked around at the others, "I love all of you! But, god, Rachel Connor. You are so cool. I was just reading on the Internet about how you're dating that Backstreet Boy."

"Which one," James drawled, smiling at me. Shit. So that's how the fans knew. Was it all over the place? Who told?

"The cute one!" She laughed. "That's so cool…" There was a knock on the window and she jumped, "Oops… that's Wild Bill, he's our morning DJ. He's been talking up your show all morning. I think he's played everything off your CD."

She took a deep breath and looked down at her clipboard, "Okay, we've got 20 minutes to fill. Bill will play a couple songs and probably ask you to intro them for him. Don't worry, I'm sure you've done this a million times. Then he'll talk about the show tonight and let you plug it. Any questions?"

"When do you breathe?" Darien deadpanned, but Stacy just laughed at him and batted her eyelashes.

"Well, come on then!" She bounced off and we followed her into the studio, pulling on our headphones and shaking hands with the DJ. More pictures of half naked women surrounded us and I tried not to think evil thoughts about Willa every time I caught her staring at me. The song faded out and the DJ turned to us.

"This is so exciting! We are joined in the studio this morning by Sudden Silence. You know them, "Come on… da da da come on," he sang the chorus of our song… badly.

Jeremy chimed in, trying to help him when he forgot the words and I tried not to look at James, because if I did I'd certainly die laughing. I hated these radio things. They were always so dorky.

"Thanks, dude." He smiled at Jeremy like they were best friends. Jeremy was always good at schmoozing the press people, wasn't he? "Think I can get a minute on stage tonight? Show off my vocal abilities."

"Sure, man. Do I get a finder's fee when your first record is cut?" Jeremy responded, making us all laugh.

"Good one, dude. This here is a shrewd businessman, folks. So, the question that's been burning up our request line all morning. Rachel, what the hell is Nick Carter of the Backstreet Boys like in bed?"

I literally fell off the bed. Fuck! What the fuck was he saying? Oh, god, Rache don't answer that. You gotta say, "no comment."

"Umm…" I heard Rachel's voice and then James cut in.

"Dude, who's your source on that? Rachel and Nick are friends, but…"

The DJ chimed in, "Our sister station in Chicago had a guy on that works in a toy store there. Said you were there yesterday filming the video for your new single and little Nicky was with you. Apparently Rachel here couldn't keep her hands to herself…"

"Our new single… Come On. I hear you've been playing it, thanks man."

Was that Darien? Darien never talked. Good, they were closing ranks. Please don't let her get hung out to dry. This was so fucking unfair. Her first radio interview on this tour and the first question is about me? God, Jeremy was going to be pissed. I searched for my phone. Maybe I could get in on the station line. Say I'm here as her friend, supporting her…?

No, that'd make it worse, wouldn't it?

"Playing the hell out of it, dude. So, Rachel, are you going to give the great people of St. Louis the inside scoop on Mr. Carter?"

"Nothing to tell, Wild Bill," I could hear the smile in her voice. That's the tone she'd used with that guy the other day when she and Em were flirting, was she doing the hair flip, too? That was lethal. "I know Nick Carter, sure. But good girls don't kiss and tell. Besides, that might disappoint all our male fans out there."

"Hearing you're a good girl might disappoint them more, Rache." Jeremy interjected and they all laughed.

"Oh, I'm very good, J, you know that."

"That's right," the DJ got sidetracked as Jeremy and Rachel talked over one another and I couldn't quite follow them. "You two used to date, didn't you? How is it, being in a band together now?"

I looked over at Jeremy and he raised an eyebrow at me, "Well, I routinely want to murder him in his sleep, Wild Bill." I smiled at the DJ. God, let's just talk about Jeremy or better yet, music. Please forget about Nick. "But I feel that way about all the boys at one time or another. You know, it's hard being the only girl on the bus."

"She totally cramps our style, man!" Darien deadpanned. "Like when we want to have orgies in the back, she's always telling us to keep it down."

"Okay, okay… I see where this is going. Well, why don't we play another song of yours. This one's from your first CD and I hear there's a famous guy involved with this one, too, right, Rachel?"

Jesus! I wanted to lean over the sound board and strangle him. I smiled sweetly, "Yeah, a couple years ago we toured with a British band, Blur. I wrote this one with their lead singer, Damon Albarn. It's called Long Island."

"And so it is," he shouted into the microphone in his sleazy announcer voice, making me cringe, "And after this song we'll get the full story on that one, too."

The 'on air' light went off and Jeremy moved over to me before I could get the headphones off, pulling on my arm. "Excuse us," he hissed behind him as he pushed me through the door.

"What the fuck, J? That was not my fault! I didn't know that guy from Chicago saw Nick! I didn't even think he noticed!"

"Well he fucking did, didn't he? And now all of Chicago and St. Louis and apparently half of cyberspace know you're bagging the Backstreet Boy!"

"So fucking what?" I tried to take a breath but it was no use. I could feel my face turning red and someone stuck their head out of an office into the hallway to see what the commotion was. Damnit. I lowered my voice, "J, this is not the time to have this fight. We can have this fight in 15 minutes when the jerk in there is done grilling me on my love life for the drive time audience, okay? Don't you think that's humiliating enough?"

I felt James' hand on my shoulder and I sighed, "What?"

"Rache, J… we're back in 2. J, it's not her fault, okay? Let's not let this guy make us all about Rachel's love life. We can stop him. Just keep bringing it back to the music and the shows."

And that's what we did. 15 hellish minutes of dodging Wild Bill's innuendoes and sleazy remarks. God, let us be huge one day and get to blacklist him or something.

Then we had another half hour of doing station ID's and signing stuff for giveaways and posing for pictures with the staff. Wild fucking Bill grabbed my ass when he stood next to me and I elbowed him in the ribs. Hard.

As soon as the bus doors shut behind us, I started kicking things. Seats, walls, I didn't fucking care. "I fucking hate morning radio! All fucking morning radio DJ's are assholes! All of them!"

"All the more reason to not give them gossip, Diva Princess," Jeremy glared at me.

James had to hold me back. He wrapped one of his long arms around my waist and sat down on the couch with me in his lap. "Now, Rache, if I let you go, promise not to scar his pretty face, OK?"

"No!" I snarled, and James sighed, holding me tighter.

"Alright then. Here you sit." It was useless to fight against James. He was two feet taller than I was. Circus freak. So I gave up, sitting there and glaring at Jeremy.

"He has to leave," Jeremy stated. "We cannot do this for the next two months."

"It's too late, J," Darien defended. "It's out there."

"If he leaves, we can deny it, asshole," Jeremy snapped at him.

"Do you want to do that, Rache?" James asked me, loosening his hold on me so that I could slide over and sit next to him. "Spend the rest of the summer pretending you aren't with Nick?"

"No!" I pouted. "I don't want to lie."

God, I wanted him here. Well, the rational part of me knew that would be a disaster, but I wanted him next to me, just holding my hand and letting me know that he thought I was amazing.

"I never lied about Jeremy, and I never lied about Damon. Why fucking start now?"

"Because someone might give a shit now," Jeremy sneered.

"So fucking what? I'm not going to pretend I'm not in love with him because we might get some publicity."

"All publicity is good publicity," Lola reminded us.

"Dude, look at Britney and Justin. They're a super couple. Rachel and Nick can be the new super couple!" Darien said, trying not to laugh. "They can wear matching outfits to awards shows!"

"Over my dead body," I grinned at Darien. He was so good at making stupid jokes at just the right time. "Do you remember those denim monstrosities they were in? James wouldn't allow me out of the house."

"Absolutely not!" James asserted, smiling at me.

"Stop joking!" Jeremy yelled, and we all looked back at him.

Darien sighed. "Don't we all get to drink now? What was that rule I made up about Jeremy and Rachel yelling?"

"This is not funny! This could totally fuck us up, and all you can do is make jokes."

James sighed. "Explain to me how this fucks us up, J."

"Everything becomes about her and the Backstreet Boy! No one will care about our music."

"You did a really good job of making it about the music today," Lola said firmly, and we all looked over at her. "I'm serious. A lesser band would have given that DJ gossip about Nick. But you just kept bringing it back to the song, and doing what you do best, which is being completely chaotic and funny."

"But it's always going to be like that!" Jeremy whined.

Lola shrugged. "If not Nick, they'll ask about Damon. If not that, you'll get the 'how is it be in a band with your ex?' question for the millionth time. Doing press sucks, Jeremy. People want gossip, and they're going to find it. There is not a band out there who gets to just talk about the music 24/7. Nick is not bad for you, J. He gives you an edge. Good pop songs are one thing, but there are dozens of bands out there with those. You've got gossip now. You've got a video by one of the biggest names out there, and you've got Rachel with a Backstreet Boy. People will remember that, and they'll want to hear what makes you guys so cool, that famous people like you."

We were quiet for a moment, just looking at her. "Why are you not our manager?" Darien whined, and we all giggled a bit, the tension breaking.

"Because I rule as a tour manager," she asserted. "We are going to the new hotel, where we are ditching the bus and getting into a van. We take the van to the evil horrible bad hotel, grab your things, and you'll have some time to decompress. Sound check at five, local press at the venue until show time at nine."

"Very clever, grasshopper," James said sagely. "Ditching the terribly noticeable tour bus."

She shrugged. "I got that one from Nick's bodyguard. Oh, Rache, he said Nick needs to call Kevin. Forgot that."

I glanced at my backpack. Why hadn't Nick called me 40 times already? I found my phone and turned it on. That might be why, I had it off while we were in the studio. It rang as soon as I hit the 'power' button and I answered it. "Yeah, Nick," I said, moving to the back of the bus.

"Where were you? You were off the air like an hour ago!"

"Station ID's. And fighting with my band." I sighed, falling onto the couch in the back.

"Rache, I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault, bunny."

We were quiet for a second. "I should just go," he said. "I'm in the way, like Jeremy said."

"Fuck him. Don't you dare leave."

He laughed. "Okay. You don't have to twist my arm." I smiled, loving the way he laughed. "Will you be back soon?"

"Lola has this complicated plan to get us back to the evil hotel to get our stuff. Maybe an hour? Hopefully less."

"Alright," he grumbled. "I'm totally bored. I left everything at the other hotel, even my Gameboy."

"Luckily you never unpack," I teased. "I'll just grab your bag."

"Have James carry it," he warned. "It's heavy."

"Nicky, I carry gig boxes all the time. I am sure your backpack won't kill me."

"You might be surprised. I carry a lot of stuff in there."

"What could you possibly need?" I wondered, glancing out the window as the bus slowed down.

"Stuff. Hey, is that you?" He asked.

"What?"

"I'm on the balcony, and I just saw a tour bus pull around the side of the hotel."

"We have a balcony?"

I could hear his smile. "We have a great room. I splashed out a little bit on the rooms. Glad I did, after this morning. Maybe I can buy your friends' love with good hotel rooms now."

I laughed. "Yeah, the gift of the Play Station has totally worn off. How much does it cost to stay at the swankiest hotel in St. Louis, Nick?"

"A lot. It's all my fault you had to move hotels, don't worry about it."

"One of these days I'll actually make some money, and I'll pay you back."

"I know," he said softly. "In a year, you'll be used to the good hotels, Rache."

"Come on, Rachel!" Lola stuck her head in the back. "We're just getting in the van now, no need to go in."

I nodded at her, grabbing my bag and following her off the bus. "I gotta go, bunny. See you soon."

"Good, I'm bored!" He whined. "Rache?"

"Yeah?" I asked, stepping off the bus. All the boys were in the van already. I really wasn't paying attention, was I?

"I love you."

I grinned, trying not to hop up and down with glee. I'd almost forgotten that part of the morning. Fuck Jeremy, fuck the publicity, Nick loved me!

"Love you too, bunny. See you soon."

I clicked off the phone and climbed into the van, sitting with James in the back. Darien had called shotgun, and Jeremy leaned forward, talking to him and Lola about something. James leaned down to me, his arm around my shoulders. "What did I miss?"

"I was on the phone with my boyfriend," I informed him. I knew what he meant.

He rolled his eyes at me. "You were throwing around the 'l' word earlier. And I am sure that I just heard 'love' and 'bunny' in the same sentence when you were on the phone."

I grinned at him, bouncing in my seat. "He said it, James. First, even. And not during sex!"

His eyes widened. "When, then?"

"When we first got to the hotel, I asked if he didn't want his fans to know about us, and he said he loved me and wanted everyone to know. And then later, during sex," I admitted.

"What did you say?"

"I made him sweat it out. I tried not to tell him, actually, because maybe he didn't mean it, ya know?"

"He meant it," James said firmly. "I've seen him with you, he is so fucking in love with you."

My face hurt from grinning so hard. "Really?" I squeaked, and James laughed at me.

"Goon. Yeah, duh. You rock."

I kissed him. "James, I love you."

"I know," he smiled. "I love seeing you this happy, Rache. It's been a long time."

I nodded. "Too long."

"Don't worry about Jeremy. I won't let him fuck this up for you," he said seriously, but I giggled, too happy to be serious.

"I'm sure I'll be able to do that myself."

I heard something at the door, and opened my eyes slowly. Rachel? Finally, she was back.

"Wow. Look at this room, James! He says yours isn't as good, nyah nyah!" she teased, stepping into the livingroom, James right behind her. I leaned over the arm of the couch, smiling at them, then a loud groan from the TV distracted me.

Shit. I knew I shouldn't have switched on the pornos. They weren't very good, they put me to sleep, after all.

I scrambled for the remote, but James beat me to it, dropping onto the couch next to me and watching for a second. "Anything for me?" He flipped the channels while I tried not to melt into the couch with embarrassment. Rachel leaned over the back of the couch, reaching for the remote, but he moved away.

"Why is there always girl-girl action and no hot men? Why am I so discriminated against?" he whined.

"James, we've had this talk. Porn is about the male gaze, so lesbian action is all about male voyeurism."

He surrendered the remote to her and she clicked off the TV. "Yeah, whatever, Ms. Film Theory. I'm going to check out the action in my room." He patted my knee as he stood up. "I can charge all the movies I want, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered, not able to look at him.

"I'll consider it a tip for carrying your bag, Nicky. What, do you hide the dead bodies in there? That thing has the mass of a planet."

"Go away, James," Rachel told him, and I caught him smiling at her as he left.

"What, do you want to show him how much better the real thing is than the pretty pictures on TV?"

"He knows. Go now!" She shut the door as he walked out, coming back in and picking up her bag, moving back towards the bedroom. I followed her, grabbing my backpack.

"Rache, I'm sorry, I don't usually-"

She dropped her bag on the dresser and smiled at me. "Oh, I'm sure you usually. Not my cuppa, but whatever. I'm not mad, bunny." She came over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Do you like the fake boobs, though? I can never watch the things, I get all distracted about how real women don't look like that."

I hugged her, smiling. "I was just passing the time until I got my wanton sex goddess back."

She grinned up at me. "That was the right answer." She kissed me, and I sighed against her lips. "When do you have to work again?"

"We leave at five for the venue. So we have nearly five whole hours alone." She moved away from me, unzipping her bag, and I sat on the bed, watching her.

"Alone? We don't have to entertain James or Darien or placate Jeremy in some form?"

"Nope." She yawned, hanging a shirt in the closet. "We're a tad sick of each other at the moment. I might need to sleep a little, though."

I caught her as she walked by the bed, pulling her down onto my lap. "I can unpack for you if you want to take a nap," I said quietly, stroking her face. She had circles under her eyes, we hadn't slept much in the past couple of days. We might have gotten two hours on the bus before we got to town.

Sighing, she leaned her head against my shoulder. "I know you'd rather I didn't, but I am suddenly so exhausted, bunny."

"Rache! I don't care. Really, I was asleep when you walked in, it was pretty bad porn."

She giggled against me. "I love you, Nick."

I laid her back on the bed, smiling. "Say it again."

"I love you." Her eyes were so truthful that I felt my heart catch in my throat. How did I get this lucky? I didn't care if we never had sex again, I just wanted her here next to me.

OK, that was a lie. But for the moment, I'd be happy if she laid here next to me.

"I love you, too, Rache. So much." I moved away from her, pulling the covers back on the bed. "Here, sleep. Do you want to sleep until five?"

She stood up, shedding her clothes before crawling under the covers. "No, I want to have sex with my hottie boyfriend once I've recovered my strength. Let me sleep until…" She looked at the clock, considering. "Two. That will give us plenty of time for sex and showers and maybe even lunch."

I tucked her in. "Are you going to sleep with me?" she asked, taking my hand, and I shook my head.

"I'm wide awake now, and if I lie there with you all naked, you won't be sleeping for long. I'll unpack and order us some lunch, then I promise I will wake you up very nicely."

She grinned, pulling on my shirt so I was close enough for her to kiss me. "That will give me very good dreams."

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