Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 30

Thanks to Baby Frick for the chapter graphic!

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 30
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

Someone knocked on the door and I turned the television up louder. I didn't want to deal with anyone. I just wanted to mope in my hotel room and ignore the world.

They pounded again and I knew it was James. No way I was hiding from him.

"You look like hell, Rache," he said as soon as I opened the door.

"Thanks. I love you, too, babe." Walking away from the door, I pulled the fluffy hotel robe tighter around me and fell back into the overstuffed chair in the corner, flipping through the television channels again. "When will we be famous enough to demand television in English?"

"Ummm… never? I don't even think U2 gets to make those kinds of demands. Don't tell me you're going to sit here all night and watch German television and mope."

"I feel like hell, James." But he'd already moved over to my closet, throwing open the doors and then turning around to look at me, an expression of horror on his face. "You didn't unpack!"

"Don't have the energy. I told you, that damned sinus infection is coming back. I'm all sniffly and am so tired. I can't do anything tonight, James. I know it's our one night off this week, but I just can't. Take Lola with you. She can be your fag hag for the evening."

He threw his hands over his ears at my suggestion, "I did not just hear you say that! Lola is not my best friend. Come on… come out with me. Once we have some drinks in you, I bet you'll feel great."

I really couldn't handle the idea of getting all dressed up and going out. I just wanted to sit here and watch bad television and maybe order room service or something. And then sleep.

"Or if I sleep for a sold ten hours, I'll feel great. Someone should have told us that once we were famous, we'd never sleep again," I whined at James and he came over, sitting on the edge of my chair and patting my head. But I knew he was only indulging me for a moment. In another hour I'd be in a cab with him.

"Damn, must have missed that page in the rock star handbook. Shit! We never got the handbook, Rache!"

"Stop making fun of me!" I whined again, but he just laughed. "And hand me the tissues."

He handed me the box of tissues that I'd tossed on the couch before opening the door for him, and then kept on going, pulling out my suitcase and rummaging through my stuff. "Hey! I might have secret girl things in there!"

"You have no secrets from me, Rache." He rolled his eyes, pulling out a T-shirt that was three sizes too big for me and frowning. "His?"

"Put that back! Yes. Like you never stole a shirt from your boyfriend to sleep in."

"My boyfriend's shirts are all embellished with studs and glitter. You can't sleep in them." That made me giggle and I joined James, laying back on the bed and shutting my eyes as he went through my clothes, rejecting just about everything in my bag. "We need to take you shopping. All these clothes suck."

"After being on the road for three weeks, everything sucks, James. I just wanna go home and sleep in my own bed and see Nick… oh, and my cat. Do you think he even misses me anymore?"

"Are we talking about the boy or that cat here?"

"Both?"

A pair of jeans landed on my head as James sighed dramatically, "Please! After that birthday surprise, I'm shocked that he didn't follow you over here. The boy, not the cat."

"Yeah, Bates doesn't much care for my battery operated toys, does he?"

"Batteries? But you forgot them… oh, there is more you need to tell me!"

Laughing, I rolled off the bed, grabbing a pair of undies and bra from my suitcase. I hoped they were clean. After three weeks I'd lost track of where the clean ones went. "Not telling. He'll kill me. If you want to go anywhere, we need to leave in the next 20 minutes or I'm falling into a coma in that bed."

"Oh, decisions… if I keep you here you will spill, but if we go out, maybe there is some cute German boy just waiting for me! Screw it. I need to get laid."

"What?" I screamed, turning back around and catching James' smile. "I thought you were in love now?"

He shrugged, "I guess… yes… come on. I'm a gay boy. I can look and touch a little. It doesn't count!"

James was always right. I needed to remember that. One shot and three glasses of rum and coke later and I was feeling absolutely no pain.

"Dance with me?"

Was that English? All night I'd been dancing with men who had no clue who I was and didn't speak English. At least they didn't care enough about me to try. They were all vying for James' attention, but I guess that's what I got when I let him pick the club.

"You speak English!" I smiled at the lovely man who was standing over my chair and offering me his hand.

"Of course. Everyone does." I frowned at that, but let him pulled me up out of my chair as I took one last gulp of my drink. "Oh, don't look so dejected. There's a bar that's more to your liking a few doors down."

I shook my head, "My boyfriend wouldn't like that idea. The gay club with my best friend is just fine. I can't get in too much trouble." I giggled as my back pocket started to vibrate and the lovely man moved away, considering me. "Sorry… phone."

Pulling out my phone, I checked the display, smiling when Nick's picture appeared on my nifty new cell phone. James had figured out how to program it so that when Nick called, it displayed his picture. When Jeremy called, it displayed a picture of the devil, which had amused us greatly.

"Bunny!" I yelled into the phone as the lovely man disappeared back into the crowd. Hell, I couldn't even keep a gay man's attention tonight. I turned back to my chair, but someone had already swiped it, so I navigated my way to the back of the club. No one would be in the ladies room, right? "Ah, peaceful almost silence," I sighed as I locked myself in a stall and heard Nick giggle on the other end.

"Guess I'm not waking you, Rache."

"No. James was tired of me moping around the hotel and insisted that we go out dancing. He took me to this great gay club, but none of the boys speak English. At least they don't for me. I'm sure they speak perfectly fluent English for James!"

"Awww… buttercup, are you feeling a little neglected there?"

"I want to come home, Nick." Suddenly my chest hurt and my head was pounding. I felt like I couldn't breathe and gasped for air.

"Just a few more days, baby, and then what…? Rache?"

I tried to talk, but all that came out was a sob. God, I was losing it here. I should not have had that third drink. Bad move.

"Rachel? Baby? Talk to me. Rache? Are you crying?"

His voice was getting progressively more panicked and I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Damnit! The mascara stung my eyes, just making them tear all the more. "Fuck!"

"Rache?"

"I'm here… b..b..bunny. Sorry." I blubbered, blowing my nose loudly. "I'm just so tired and…"

"Drunk?"

"Maybe a little." I conceded.

"Definitely a lot, Rache. You need to find James and have him get you back to the hotel."

"No, he's having fun. We're supposed to be getting him laid tonight."

"I thought he and JC were in love?"

"Gay men have different rules, baby. They can touch a little."

"Getting laid is more than a little!" He sounded shocked by that and I had to laugh. He was so naive sometimes. "And you can't touch at all!"

I had to laugh at his tone and he was quiet for a moment. "Oh, baby, don't be mad. We're not getting him laid. Well, I don't think so. I don't know. I've lost the plot here. I just want to come back home and sleep in my own bed and wake up in your arms." Shit, I couldn't go there. It made my chest hurt again.

"I know, buttercup. Just a few more days. I've booked us the great suite at the Peninsula."

"I never want to stay in that hotel again, Nick!"

"What? But… you love the Peninsula. It has that great spa on the roof and the pool. I've booked us for massages so that you can be all rested for your big night at the Grammys, baby!"

I definitely couldn't breathe now. Shit! I didn't want to get a massage there, of all places. Not when I'd already fucked the masseuse. Granted, Nick and I had been broken up, then, but… somehow I didn't think that'd matter much, even now.

"No. Please, baby, just find another hotel. I don't want to stay there, Nick. That's the hotel where we…."

"But I thought we could turn it into a good memory. But if that's a dumb idea…" He sounded so hurt. He'd thought he was doing a sweet thing. Hell, he was doing a sweet thing, and I'd just fucked it up and bit his head off about it. Shit. I needed to find James and start sleeping this off.

"Bunny, it's a great idea. I'm sorry… it's just… I'm so tired and I don't want to think about that time, you know? I want to think about our good memories. Like your birthday."

His sexy chuckle shot right through me and I leaned against the side of the stall, not caring that it was probably gross. As soon as I closed my eyes, I saw Nick laying in that big tub in our hotel, completely relaxed from my massage and waiting for me to slide into the water with him. That'd been a nice ending to the kinky birthday sex. I'd always thought it was hard to make love under water, but Nick had proven me wrong on that one.

"Rache… want me to call James for you?"

"No, bunny. I'll find him and go back to the hotel and call you when I'm alone."

"No, Rache, you're going to go back to the hotel and fall fast asleep. Just dream about me, baby. That's what I'll be doing. Love you."

"I love you, too, Nick. Thanks for calling."

"G'night."

I hung up the phone and stayed there, leaning against the gross bathroom stall, trying to steady my breathing. I just needed a solid night's sleep and I'd feel better, not like I was going to burst into tears at the littlest thing. I'd had no idea how hard this tour was going to be. Europe was a lot more difficult than the States. Everything was farther apart, and every day we needed to know another language.

And the time difference meant I never got to talk to Nick. We'd written a lot of email, and he was supposed to visit me on Valentine's Day, but that got all fucked up with my schedule. I'd see him at the Grammys next week and by then it would be a month since I'd seen him last.

We had three whole days to ourselves before the Nsync tour started, but Nick had to do Backstreet stuff… he was never going to visit me on the Nsync tour, was he? It was too weird.

No wonder I felt like crying all the time. When I was I ever going to see Nick again? He was going to get sick of never seeing me and it would be over. I was pretty sure he wasn't cheating on me now, because he was all involved in his solo stuff. His emails were full of stories of hanging out in the studio, and the people he was working with. But once that slowed down, and if Backstreet took off again… he'd remember his old life, before me, and he'd realize I wasn't what he needed.

"Man entering the room!" James bellowed. Like that was going to work, James? Even if anyone was in here with me, we were in Germany!

"Rache?" he called, and then he peered over the stall at me. "Rache! Let's get… hey, what's wrong?"

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have come out tonight."

He didn't even protest, just opened the door and held me as I stumbled out of the stall and into his arms. He bent his head down, whispering in my ear. "Missing your boy? The guy out there said you got a phone call and came in here."

I nodded against his chest. "I haven't seen him in so long."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

His voice was sad, and I hugged him tighter. "You get to be on tour with yours soon."

"Yeah, but… I don't know how that's going to work. If it will work."

We just stood there, two lost Americans in a German bathroom, missing our boys, until the door opened, and we heard laughter. I looked up at James. "Can we go back to the hotel now?"

"Do you think we'll be able to find it?"

"It's the Ritz. Right?"

I hoped so. Even the nice hotels were starting to feel the same now.

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