I yawned and rolled over. It was noon and I was still tired. I stood up and forgot where I was at. “Right... hotel...LA... premiere,” I whispered to myself, changing into a pair of khakis and a yellow shirt and putting on light makeup. I walked into my sitting room of my hotel room and saw Jackson laying on my couch, he was just awakening.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my hands on my hips.
“Could you be any louder?” Jackson asked, massaging his temples. His words were slurred slightly and his eyes were bloodshot.
I laughed, “You have a hangover, don’t you?”
Jackson glared at me, “You get pleasure from my pain. That’s sick.”
I began laughing hysterically. Jackson Walker looked like shit in front of me. Something he always made a point not to do. “I...am... so sorry.” I tried to say in between giggles, “Can I get you anything? Aspirin? Water? Food? Makeup?”
“Aspirin, the whole bottle,” Jackson ordered.
“Know what?” I said.
“What?” Jackson asked, irritated.
“Funny thing is, I don’t think I have any!” I said, and then I walked over to the counter and jiggled the full bottle of aspirins.
“Come on, Megan! Just give me the damn bottle!” Jackson shouted, walking over to me.
I jiggled them again and the pills clanged against the plastic walls of the bottle. Jackson grabbed my wrists. He tightened his grip an I shrieked in pain, and dropped the bottle onto the tile.
“Oww! Let go of me!” I said, struggling free, “You’ve got a lot of problems, Jackson.” I grabbed my purse and walked out of the door, slamming it for drama and because I knew the sound of the slamming door would stay emblazoned in his head for the rest of the day. Hangovers can be such a bitch.
I didn't know where I was going, but I'd find some place. I took the elevator to the lobby and looked out the front doors. A mob of people stood there, some held signs that said, "Jackson have my baby!" And others said, "I love you Megan and Jackson."
"Hey, is the back entrance safe?" I asked the lady at the front desk.
The lady shook her head, "No, there's people there too."
I stomped my foot, and took a deep breath. I'd have to deal with it. I saw my chaufuerr coming out of the resteraunt.
"John! Wait! Can you take me somewhere?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said, digging in his pocket for his keys, "come out when you see me pull up."
I nodded. In moments I saw the white limo pull up and wait by the front doors. I walked out and shrieks of excitement echoed throughout the city. I was glad there were baracades seperating me from the frenzy.
"Megan!"
"Marry me!"
"Can I have your autograph?"
"Where's Jackson?"
All the shouts slurred together and I jumped into the car. The limo screeched off and all the people waved. Don't they have lives?
"Where to?" John asked.
"Umm..." I said, "Hold on a sec." I dug through my purse from last night, "Red Carpet Hotel," I said, reading the piece of paper Nick had given me.
"Who's there?" John questioned.
Not many people can get away with being nosy with me, but John and I have established an friedship in the six years I'd known him. "Someone I met last night," I answered.
"A guy?" John prodded.
I could feel myself blushing, I never blush. I nodded, "Yeah, a guy."
"Tell me about him," he said.
"Well, his name is Nick. He's in a group. Isn't that cool?" I began, "The Backstreet Boys is what they call themselves. Nick's really cute. And, he didn't like, ask if I would sign his stomach."
"That's a first," John laughed.
I giggled, "I would've if he asked me to."
John raised his eyebrows. "Gotta a crush?"
I shrugged, "I'll tell you after today."
"Well, you're time with him is about to come. We're here," John said, pulling into the hotel parking lot.
I inhaled, and then exhaled, "Wish me luck?"
John shook his head, "You don't need it."
I got out and saw their was a fan base in front of that hotel. I can imagine why, a hottie like Nick is staying there. I walked through the people and the girls noticed me.
"Megan, you're so cool!"
"Get me in to see the Backstreet Boys!"
"Are you dating BSB?"
I couln't help but to laugh, and I thought Jackson's fans were bad. I walked to the front desk, the doorman recongnized me and waved me through.
"Hi, can you tell me Nick Carter's room number?" I asked.
The lady typed something in, "We don't have a Nick Carter registered here. Sorry ma'am."
I sighed, "Are you sure? Check again."
She checked again, "Sorry..."
I slapped my hand down on the desk, "Thanks anyway." I began to walk away when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and Nick was jogging toward me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Trying to find you, but I they don't have a Nick Carter staying here," I mumbled.
"I stay under an alias," Nick explained.
I laughed about how stupid I was, "I should've known, so do Jackson and I."
"Let's go get some lunch," Nick said, "I stay under Matthew Marter, what about you?" He led me to an empty table.
"I stay under Courtney Meg. Dumb huh? Jackson's is sooo stupid too. He stays under Bill Jackson," I said.
"Those aren't too bad," Nick said, "so, you came here to see me?"
I nodded, "Yeah. That's not too hard to believe."
"For me it is," Nick replied, "It's not too often that I have an Oscar winning, beautiful actress tracking me down."
I giggled, "It's a crazy world."
I felt like I was being stared down so I turned my head slightly and people were leaning over the table next to us, taking pictures of the two of us, and whispering obnoxiously.
"People can be so rude," I said, loudly.
"They're just fans," Nick calmly said.
"No shit, I know that. Really rude fans," I muttered.
"Excuse me, can we have your autograph?" the young, twenty something girl asked, her obvious boyfriend behind her.
"Sure..." Nick began.
"I don't have time, my lunch will be here soon," I replied, smiling fakely.
"It will only take a second," the guy said.
I sighed, "I told you, I'm a busy, busy, busy person. I have no time."
"Money can make a bitch of someone," the girl mumbled.
"Honey, money doesn't make a bitch of someone. Money only makes that person powerful. The only thing that makes me a bitch is rude people like you who can't even let me have a moment to myself," I yelled at her.
Nick looked at me, disgusted. He got up and walked away.
"Nick! Where are you going?" I called after him.
"I'm letting you throw your fit alone," he replied, and kept on walking.
Chapter One
Chapter Three
We're A Miracle Index
Nick Fanfiction Index
BSB Fanfiction Index
Backstreet Island