Zaylin Jones had never had a middle name, and always found that quite peculiar. Especially when every job application or form that she filled out asked for a middle initial, and never bothered to add that it was okay if one didn't have a middle name.
"Oh, Zay... what's the big deal? It's just a middle name, nothing special," her mother had always said when Zaylin would complain about not having gotten the opportunity to have a middle name.
"Mother, I just don't see why you were so lazy not to even give me a middle name. I mean, almost every child has a middle name! And it's not like it's completely time consuming to think one up ... There must have been a family member you coulda named me after!" She just didn't get it. Her family was creative with the millions of nicknames that she had (Zayla, Zay, Z, Zee-Zee, ZJ...) and they couldn't think up a simple middle name?? Surely Marie would have worked fine.
The typical 'middle name' conversation with her mother would always end the same way. "Well why don't you just make one up yourself and legally add one," her mother would suggest, "that is, if it means that much to you."
"It's not the same," Zaylin would sigh, looking distraught. "You were supposed to think one up for me -- that's the job of the mother, not the daughter once she's grown..." Then she'd leave the room and contemplate whether or not it was that big of a deal. But to her it was and always had been. She didn't really know why. Maybe she never would know why ... she just knew that she wished her mother had taken the time to give her a middle name.
Zaylin finally moved from her parents home at the age of 20, and she promised her mother, who was crying profusely, that it had nothing to do with the fact that she had never gotten a middle name and that she was still a wonderful mother.
The day Zaylin moved out was an exciting day for her, but quite nerve-racking. She'd had the comfort of her family and the same bedroom for 20 years, the family having lived in the same house her entire life, and suddenly she was in a small apartment with a roommate that she had only known for a week before offering her the extra room for a fee. Zaylin knew from day one that her roommate, Rebecca, who liked to be called Ecca for some unknown reason, was a partier and a very unique person at that. Rebecca came home at all weird hours of the night, usually just "slightly tipsy" from her drinking habits. She'd been trying to get Zaylin to loosen up a bit and go to a few parties with her, but Zay had continued to decline from the offer.
"Zaylin, would you please just get up off that couch and come out tonight? You need to start making some other friends," Rebecca demanded as she came into the cozy family room, dressed to impress. It had been 2 months since they'd moved into the apartment and Rebecca had seen Zaylin just sit around after getting off of work every single one of those nights. She wanted her roommate to get out and have some fun ... she needed to liven up quite a bit.
Zaylin looked up at Rebecca, taking slight offense to her comment, "What's wrong with my current friends??"
"Well ... they're just ... how do I put this?" Rebecca paused, pretending to try and find the correct words, when she had no intention of really softening them. "They're boring, Zay! They call having fun going out to a movie, and sure that can be a blast, but not every freaking time you go out. Get up, get dressed, because you and I are having some real fun tonight."
"I'm not gonna just go and get drunk with you, Becca."
"It's Ecca, please, and I never said you had to get drunk, although you sure could use it. Just get up, okay??"
Zaylin sighed and stood slowly from the couch, turning the TV off in the process. "'It's Ecca,'" she mimicked to herself quietly as she headed down the hallway to her bedroom. It took her an hour to change and do her hair and makeup and when she was done she went back out to the family room to meet her eccentric roommate, who was now practically squeeling with joy that she'd finally managed to talk Zaylin into "having some fun."
~ * ~
Nick Carter was in this singing group that everybody seemed to want to label a 'boy-band,' much to Nick's distaste. They were nothing like 'N Sync -- no matter what anybody else said. 'N Sync had this weird pop/disco/techno sound going, and the Backstreet Boys, the group that Nick was in, sounded much more mature. They'd been through a lot together already in their eight years of being together: problems with management and stingy people using them for their money, members having health problems, family members dying, not to mention the daily things that they went through as a group. But now AJ, the second youngest member, was in rehab for depression and alcohol abuse and their tour had been postponed. Nick and the rest of the guys had all seen it coming, but that didn't make it any less hard.
"I think that we should all rent some houses here, so we can be there for AJ if he needs us," Kevin said as they all walked slowly from the rehabilitation center, feeling mildly sullen. It had been a long day and they were in New York, seeing how AJ was adjusting in the clinic. "You guys agree, don't you?" He was met with acceptance from both Howie and Brian, but Nick stayed silent. "Nick?"
Nick met them with dull eyes, compared to their usual brightness. He suddenly felt like his best friend had just died. He'd been close with Brian from the beginning, but when Brian had gotten married it had changed their friendship, no matter how much Brian had assured him that it wouldn't, and Nick had begun to grow closer to AJ ... this problem with AJ was having more of an affect on Nick than he'd thought it would.
"I don't think I wanna stay up here, guys," Nick mumbled, afraid they'd all be mad at him. It wasn't that he didn't want to support AJ -- because he truly did, he loved the guy as though he were his own blood -- but Nick was afraid that if he stayed he'd end up where AJ was ... depressed. "I'm sorry ... just ... just tell Aje that I had a family emergency." Nick heard the guys calling after him as he sprinted towards his vehicle, but he didn't pay much attention to what they were saying.
"Well, where are you gonna go??" Brian finally yelled after him as Nick neared his rented Camaro.
Nick stopped and looked down at the ground with a sigh. He had no idea. That was something he'd have to figure out when he got to the airport. "I'll call you when I get there," was all Nick said as he slid into the car and pulled out of the parking lot, on his way to the airport.
Nick awoke at nine the next morning, stretching lazily in the hotel bed. The room was incredibly stuffy and Nick quickly stood up to open the one solitary window on the other side of the room. He was in Dallas, Texas. Why he had chosen Dallas he had no idea, but it had been the soonest flight out and Nick assumed that had something to do with his choice. He showered and dressed, and as he ran as comb through his hair he left his hotel room to catch a cab to the local mall. In his haste to leave he hadn't made the trip home to pack a bag and all he had was the small amount of clothes that he'd packed for New York. But he planned on staying in Dallas much longer than his stay in New York had been.
