Oreos for Breakfast: Nick BSB Fiction

Oreos for Breakfast - Chapter 21

By
The Paperbag Princess & The Pumpkin Coach

Page 7 | Page 8 | Page 9 | Page 10 | Page 11

"Did you break my phone, James?"

I sat next to him, tossing my phone on the table. He just glanced at it, and then offered me a bite of his sandwich. Too much mustard. Yuck. Didn't he know I didn't like that much mustard?

I guess I could make my own sandwich, huh?

"I didn't do anything to your phone, Rache. Why?"

"I'm not getting any messages!"

"Maybe no one's calling you, princess," Darien teased as James picked up my phone, hitting a few buttons and probably reprogramming it to wake me up in the middle of the night.

I stuck my tongue out at Darien. "I am a very popular girl, D. Lots of people call me!"

"You have messages, Rache," James offered, handing me back my phone.

"Yeah… but…"

James suddenly realized what I was worried about and shook his head, shutting off my phone and putting it on the table in between us. "Nick hasn't called you today?"

"No! Did you block his calls or something?"

"You did tell him to lose the number, remember, James?" Jeremy asked, and I looked over at him.

"What? I turned back to James. When did you talk to Nick?" He talked to Nick and didn't tell me?

"I have no idea… Oh. Right. Yeah."

Suddenly James was very interested in his lunch. So I took it away from him. "When did you talk to Nick?"

"I was eating that!" James whined, reaching for his plate, and I pushed it across the table to Darien and Jeremy.

"You can have it back when you tell me what mean things you said to Nick!"

"Oh, please. It was like three days ago. It certainly hasn't stopped him from calling you."

So what had stopped him from calling me? I was getting used to messages every couple of hours, and all day, nothing.

I was pathetic, wasn't I? Jeremy was right. I loved the drama. Maybe this was good. Maybe the drama was over, and my life would settle down and I would realize I didn't need the punkass.

"I thought you weren't talking to the boy toy!" Darien protested, and I shrugged.

"I'm not talking to him. But he's left a lot of messages on my voicemail. Until today."

"How many?" Jeremy quizzed.

"Dunno… a couple a day? Five? Ten?"

Jeremy and Darien exchanged a look. "Ten?" Jeremy asked. "Dude, he's obsessed."

"No worse than Shane," I sighed. "Remind me not to get involved with people I work with, okay?"

"Yeah, weren't we the textbook example of that one, Rache?" Jeremy joked, and I had to smile at him. Yeah, we were the textbook example of that mistake. It was a miracle that this band was still together, let alone making our second video. At least Shane would be going away in a couple of hours and I wouldn't have to deal with him again. We hadn't even exchanged phone numbers or anything. Just had an almost-innocent date. Dinner and some drinks and fooling around.

We practically fell into the suite once I figured out how to open the door, and I turned around and threw my hand over his mouth to keep him from laughing so loud.

"Shhh…" I heard my drunk self not whisper, "James might be sleeping."

"James? Why is James in your room, darling?"

I looked around the room, and it was empty. Right. We weren't sharing. I couldn't get used to that. It was a big room… what was that… they had a name for it…

"A suite, Rache," Shane whispered in my ear. Did I say that out loud? Fuck. I had to watch myself when I got too drunk, didn't I?

"You are so cute when you're drunk…" His voice trailed off as he took me in his arms, and I felt his hips rub against mine as his tongue slipped into my mouth. Oh, shit… he had a soft tongue and hard… damn.

I let my fingers wander across his stomach. Flat and hard, I could feel the muscles underneath his tight t-shirt. He groaned as I reached his belt buckle.

"Pull it," he growled, so I did, unbuckling it slowly and whipping the belt off. I went to throw it on the floor, but he caught my arm. "No."

"No?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow as he grinned evilly at me. Oh fuck, he was hot. His blond hair fell in his eyes. They were so blue… like… no! No thinking of Nick. No comparing him to Nick. I'd been doing that all night. It was like a disease or something.

Shouldn't I be over this by now? What was it, a day of mourning for every month you were with someone… or was that a week? Something like that. My friend Heather knew all those stupid girl rules; I'd never much paid attention to them. At any rate, I should be over him soon and not comparing every one night stand to him…

"No," he hissed, his mouth trapping mine again as he wrestled the belt from me. "Finish."

Finish? What… oh… he grabbed my hands and moved them back to his waist, easing his jeans down his hips. He sighed as they fell to the floor, and then pushed his hips against mine before pulling away abruptly. What the hell?

Before I knew it, my dress was pulled off my body and I was on my back on the bed. Without any ceremony, Shane fell on top of me, grabbing my hands and wrapping his leather belt around them so I couldn't move.

No fucking way. I struggled, and he just grinned at me before sucking hard on my neck. I could feel the blood rush to the spot and I tried to push him off. Fuck. I was going to have a mark there, asshole! I still had a day of shooting left and the director would fucking kill me if I showed up with a hickey!

I pulled away as much as I could, and Shane laughed again, following me as I squirmed out from under him, "Untie me, you fuck!"

"Rache? C'mon, it's just a game…"

"It's only a game if I say yes," I spat back at him.

What the hell was I doing? I liked this sort of shit. Jeremy and I used to tie each other up all the time, and the other night with that investment broker or banker or whatever the fuck he was… we'd done much more than just tie each other up.

Suddenly Shane looked worried, and he moved toward me, untying me and pulling me into his arms gently as if I was about to shatter. I pushed him away roughly. "Don't! Just… just leave." He looked hurt, so I lowered my voice, "I'm sorry. I'm drunk and nervous about tomorrow and… I need to get some sleep."

"I'm sorry, Rache… I thought you'd like it a little rough. You know, spice things up a bit."

He smiled over at me apologetically, and I immediately felt bad. Of course he did. I was the wanton sex goddess to him, wasn't I? Tough rocker chick that liked to fuck hard and had no feelings, right? Shit. Why did they always believe my press?

I'd forgotten that part. A few months with Nick and I'd suddenly gotten used to being treated like… what? A lady? I had to laugh at that, and Shane looked at me, confused. No, not a lady. But not a whore either.

I stood up and offered a hand to him, and he joined me. I hugged him quickly. "Don't worry. I'm fine. I just need to sleep. That's all."

He looked at me, and I saw worry still etched on his face, so I leaned up and kissed him softly. It took him a moment, but he responded, his tongue coaxing my mouth open and his arms encircling my waist, holding me close to him. He was still hard, and he rubbed against me slightly as he deepened our kiss. What the hell? Did he not understand that I was kicking him out? It didn't have to be a scene, but he needed to leave now.

I pulled back, and he reached for me again, but I laughed and moved quickly through the door and into the living room. He'd follow, right? He wasn't going to refuse to leave or anything, was he? What would I do if that happened? I couldn't call James; he was out with JC. And I think Darien and Jeremy were still downstairs at the bar. Lola was probably asleep. Fuck.

I turned around, and he was standing behind me, a smile still on his face. Man, he was clueless, huh? Pretty, but not real smart.

"Shane, it was a nice night, but this girl needs to sober up and get some beauty sleep."

"I know a good way to lull you to sleep, Rache."

Oh… don't even go there. I tried not to scowl as I handed him his clothes. "Well, not tonight, sorry. See you tomorrow, Shane."

I managed to make small talk and avoid his touch for the next few minutes, but as soon as he left, I locked the door. Fuck. That so didn't go the way I wanted it to.

And just how did you want it to go, Rache? Did you think because he was tall and blond he'd suddenly turn into Nick in the middle of kissing him?

I'd now wasted another hour, but at least I had presents! Diamonds and Buttercups and nearly every Hello Kitty thing that Chinatown had to offer. I put what I could in a sparkly, pink Hello Kitty backpack that had her playing a pink guitar. I'd figure out what to do with the other stuff later. The backpack would make Rachel smile. I knew it. It might not make her take me back or listen to me… but if I could just see her smile, then I'd feel more hopeful than I did right now.

Because right now the guard guy was frowning at me and looking down at his clipboard and not finding my name.

"Please, man. I'm not gonna hurt her or anything. Need to see my ID? Do you read the magazines? I'm Nick…"

"I know who you are, sir, but you aren't on the approved list. And I have to go by the list. Management was adamant on that. There are a lot of fans around today."

Fuck. He wasn't going to let me in? I'd come all this way, and the little security dude was going to stand in my way. That wasn't right! I guess I could go back to the hotel and wait around the seventh floor until they were done.

Then I'd see her coming back to her room with some groupie guy and lose my fucking mind. No, that was not going to happen!

"Look. I'm surprising her. Monday was her birthday and I was on tour and messed it up… I came here to surprise her…" I leaned into the car and grabbed one of the blue Tiffany's boxes and unwrapped the white ribbon quickly, showing him the pretty bracelet I'd gotten her. "See, I have her presents and… umm… I just need a little help."

He looked over at me, and I tried to look honest. That wasn't totally a lie, right? I had fucked up her birthday. I was surprising her. I did have presents. Good ones, too! I needed a lot more than a little help, though.

He took a breath and then leaned over, pushing a button in his little control booth, and the gate in front of our car swung up. Success!

I smiled at him, and jumped back in the car. "Thanks, dude! Thanks a lot!"

Sean was laughing as we drove up to the soundstage. There was a line of at least a hundred fans outside stage door #9, which was at the back of the lot. I slumped down in the back seat and pulled my ball cap lower on my head. Please don't look over here. Please don't look over here.

"Where to, Nick?"

"Umm… the back maybe? I can't go over there with all the fans."

"Yeah, not smart. I think I see someone with one of your dolls."

"Dolls?" I peered out the window to see what he was talking about, but didn't see anything.

"Yeah, like that video you've got. The dolls with strings…"

"Fuck, man!" I laughed, sitting up, "Wrong band! That's N*Sync!"

"Oh, shit! Sorry, dude. What do you do, then? I thought…"

"We're the other ones." I shook my head as he laughed at me, "Forget it. Just go around back."

We turned the corner, and there was their bus, along with a bunch of people milling around. Looked like crew. I didn't see anyone I knew. Someone called from the stage door, and everyone scurried back inside. Cool. The fans weren't inside yet, so maybe they were still filming and I had some time to figure out what I was going to do.

Sean stopped the car and turned back to me, "Now or never, dude."

Truer words were never spoken. I had presents and I was here. What else did I need? A fifth of vodka would be good. But this wasn't a limo, and I was out of luck on that one. "Wish me luck, then."

I got out of the car and then realized I was still holding the Tiffany's box, so I stuffed it in my front pocket and headed for the stage door. I'd just go in the back door and stand in the back and watch for a bit. Or maybe I should go to the bus? Steven would probably take pity on me. I'm sure he and Frank still spoke. Hell, I bet Rachel and Frank were still speaking!

Shit… what if Frank figured out I was gone? Would he have called Rachel? Maybe she'd be waiting for me. Or worse, she'd have security waiting and they'd kick me out and…

Stop it! I had to quit freaking out. If I could just see her, maybe that would calm me down. Just one door separated me from Rachel. She was behind this door. I pulled on it and… locked. Fuck!

I resisted the urge to bang on the door and looked back at Sean. But he was on his phone. Some lookout man he was. If we needed to have that car chase later, we were screwed. I tried the door again, pulling harder this time, but no luck.

"That's why you aren't calling her."

Shit. I thought everyone went back in. I turned slowly, and my worst fears were realized as I found Jeremy standing about five feet from me. I just looked at him. I could take him. I wasn't here to fight with him. I just wanted to see Rachel. He could say whatever he wanted to me, and I couldn't care less.

"What?" Did the whole band know I was being a lovesick fool and calling her a million times a day?

Yeah, probably. There were no secrets in this band. And by Jeremy's tone, I knew immediately that he knew everything. "How did you get here?"

I pointed at the black car parked by the fence and Jeremy raised an eyebrow at me.

"Impressive. Did you get a pass to leave Backstreet Land? Where's Goliath?"

"What?" I snarled, not wanting to back down, but not wanting to fight with him, either. If Rachel came out and I was fighting with Jeremy, it'd be bad. What if they were back together or something? That's what half the fans on her boards thought, anyway.

"Goliath. The big guy. Your protector. Gay but not like James. Him."

I rolled my eyes, "Frank. In Canada somewhere. I left."

"You what?"

"I left. Okay? I'm not here to fight with you, dude. I know you don't like me, but I just had to… fuck… I had to say I was sorry, and she won't fucking talk to me!"

"Man, you are obsessed. I thought the calls were bad… but, dude. You get points for showing up here. Beats anything I ever did. She'll like that."

I had to do a double take. Was Jeremy not fighting with me? What the fuck…

He laughed and shook his head, "Whatever, dude. We're not done yet, and we need her without her makeup all smeared. I think we've got like two scenes left. Don't fuck it up, okay?"

With that he brushed past me. What the fuck just happened here? Was Jeremy telling me to stay? Why wasn't he mad at me and telling me what a massive fuck up I was?

Who the hell cares? I looked back toward the building and saw that the door was ajar. He'd left the deadbolt out so it didn't lock behind him. Shit…

Disclaimer | Sudden Silence Website
Feedback to Authors | Tragical Fiction (home)

Subscribe to receive an email when this site is updated!

Powered by groups.yahoo.com