I heard familiar male voices in the background.
"Whoa, this girl's arm is really messed up," said a voice with a bit of a southern drawl.
"Yeah, when I found her there was a suitcase that must have weighed at least 20 pounds on top of it. The overhead compartment came open I guess and the suitcase slammed hard into her arm," another voice said.
"It looks broken," the southern voice said.
I felt a hand carefully examining my arm. I slowly opened my eyes and found myself looking at the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen.
"Oh my god," I said when I recognized the face, "Ok, let me get straight. I died, right? And this must be heaven, cause it sure ain't hell," I said.
He laughed and flashed that amazing smile of his.
"Well, last time I checked, dead people don't talk." Then he turned back to my arm. "I think your arm is broken."
I groaned.
"Nick went on the plane to find some first-aid kits, cause we've all got some injuries. Nothing really bad, though. Thank god, because no one besides me, you, my four friends, who I have a feeling you'll recognize, and this other girl about your age survived."
"Was the girl sitting next to me on the plane?" I asked immediately, praying it was Korin.
"Yeah, she was. She hasn't woken up yet, but AJ's over there looking at her leg cause it's really screwed up."
"Oh thank god! Korin lived! Let me know when she wakes up, ok?"
"Sure."
Just then, Nick came back with a bunch of first-aid kits. He handed one to Brian. Brian took out one of the bandages (you know, one of the long cloth ones) and started carefully bandaging my arm.
"If it's broken, this isn't gonna do it, but it's the best we can do for now," he said as he worked.
I winced every minute or so with pain, and he would apologize. About 15 minutes later, he was done.
"Hey, not a bad bandaging job," I said with a smile.
He grinned.
"Oh, you're gonna need a sling. Here," he said, taking off his shirt (he had an undershirt on, but it was the tank top type, so I was happy:)).
He twisted it, tied it, and helped me put my arm into it. Then he sat back and admired his handiwork.
"I should have become a doctor!" he said.
"Oh yeah, putting a bandage on and making a sling out of a shirt really takes a P.H.D.," I said sarcastically.
"Hey, I could have let you do it yourself."
I smiled.
"Yeah, I know, thanks."
"Anytime."
"Hey, let's go see if Korin's awake yet."
He agreed, and helped me up. At first, we didn't let go of each other's hands. I was standing so close to him I could smell his cologne, Safari (appropriate for the surroundings, isn't it?). Oh my god.
"By the way, I'm Kristy," I said.
"Brian Littrell, but you knew that, right?"
I nodded with a smile. We walked over to where Korin was, and I noticed that her leg was in the same shape as my arm. She hadn't woken up yet. AJ was kneeling next to her. He looked at us when we walked over there.
"Hey Bone, this is Kristy, she knows this girl," Brian said.
"Yeah? Who is she?" AJ asked.
"Korin Mumford, my best friend," I answered.
AJ went back to looking at her.
"So, where are you from?" Brian asked me.
"San Francisco. I love it there."
"Oh really? That's cool, it always looked like a really good party city when we stopped there on tour."
"Yeah, it is, which is one of the reasons I love it so much. I actually grew up in a small town about 45 minutes away from it, and as teenagers Korin and I sweared we would move to Frisco as adults, so we did."
"Do you guys go to college there?"
"We just graduated from San Francisco State. This trip was kind of a celebration...well, it was supposed to be."
We both sighed.
"Hey Kristy, she's awake!" AJ said.
~*~Korin's POV~*~
I was dimly aware of a bright light hurting my eyes, even through my eyelids. My head was throbbing and I felt like my leg was being smashed by a piledriver machine. I was lying flat on soft grass, but it seemed to be spinning. As my brain cleared, I became aware of voices. A guy's voice, vaguely familiar, caught my attention.
"Who is she?" he asked.
I heard Kristy's voice reply, "Korin Mumford, my best friend."
A new guy's voice, this one with a southern drawl and even more familiar said, "So, where are you from?"
I lost interest in their conversation as hands probed my leg, the one that was on fire with pain. I gasped at the fresh wave of agony the slight touch caused, and forced my eyes to open. I turned my head to look for Kristy and the guys she'd been talking to, and I immediately regretted it as the world started spinning around me again. Then I saw the gorgeous dark brown eyes and forgot all about everything else.
"Well, at least I didn't go to hell," I remarked.
"Either that, or I'm in hell with you," the guy replied dryly.
I laughed and immediately stopped, because of a hand pressing against what I assumed to be a bruised rib.
"Ow, don't do that," I said.
"Oops, sorry," he replied, smiling sheepishly.
I turned my head and looked at Kristy.
"Kris, what happened?" I asked, thinking I was hallucinating.
"Well, here I go. Our plane crashed."
"Okay, I could have figured that one out on my own."
"Everyone died besides you, me, and 5 other guys."
"Not good."
"I have a broken arm."
"Very not good."
"Your leg is really screwed up."
"Yeah, I figured that out from the pain."
"Well, it looks bad, too."
"Great."
"We're on one of the over 200 uninhabited Hawaiian islands with very little food, and we probably aren't going to be found for awhile."
"Holy mother-fucking shit!"
"Yeah, I know. Oh, and there's more."
"Great."
"The Backstreet Boys rescued us from the plane. This little makeshift sling of mine is made out of Brian Littrell's shirt. And AJ McLean is standing 3 feet away from you."