ANGELS

Chapter 4:

All the Boys had decided to have dinner in the hotel's restaurant. On the way down there with AJ and Howie, Deandra told me that the band and crew had had to change the previous hotel soon after they had arrived. Too many fans had booked a room in the same hotel and it was almost impossible to move freely around the lobby or anywhere without being stopped by at least three girls, who asked for autographs and pictures. The hotel we were staying at now was outside of the city and with quite few rooms (compared to other hotels) of which most were booked already, so the Boys had a pretty peaceful time there. That's why it was also possible that the whole crew, including dancers, bodyguards and road managers could have lunch with the Boys in the restaurant.

Looking back now it makes me snicker, when I imagine the sight. If anyone would have been able to see us, we would have probably seemed like a group of fans hanging out with all of them. We were seated - yes, we actually sat at an empty table - near the Boys, chit-chatting like everyone else in the room. The only difference was that no food was served at our table.

Connor, Renae and Catherine were already sitting there, when Deandra and I arrived. I was greeted with smiles, this time also by Renae. But also by a face that was new for me.

With a smile that face said: "Hi, I'm Derek!" I smiled back and greeted him, but obviously with a questioning look, because Derek continued with a laugh: "I'm Diane's guardian angel. She's one of the Boys' dancers."

"Nae told us you already had your first job, huh?!" Connor grinned.

I smiled shyly. "Yeah, it just...happened." I laughed lightly. "It's kinda hard to explain, but you all know how it is."

They all laughed and I got to hear the stories about the first time they had to save one of the Boys and Diane, the dancer. But during our conversation, my mind drifted off to other things again. I looked around the restaurant, taking in the sight in front of me, when a certain question popped into my head again.

"Dee, can I ask you something?" I asked, turning to Deandra.

"Sure, go ahead", she replied. "I told you, you can ask anytime."

"Ok, ummm..." I looked at all of them. "I guess you can all help me, or maybe none, but... How does it come that I can just walk through a wall, as if it wasn't there, but at the same time I can sit on this chair. With my hands on this table. My feet on this floor. But when I sit down on a bed, nothing is moving under me."

Renae grinned: "That was one of the first things I wanted to know, too."

Connor laughed in response: "Yeah, but it took Cat forever for that one. She never cared to ask."

"Hey", Cat protested, "that's 'cause I really didn't care. I mean, I was never interested in physics, while I was alive, so why bother later on. It's just the way it is." Connor still grinned. Catherine then turned back to me: "Well, by now even I can answer that one for you: it's all about your mental image."

"Huh?!" was all I could say first. "I think I need some more info on that."

"Ok, first another question", Catherine started. "When you walked through the wall, did you do it by yourself or were you, you know..."

"I was pulled through it", I answered, knowing what she meant. "AJ walked out to meet the others and I didn't know then that I had to follow."

"See, that's the key. Look at this", Catherine said. She looked at Connor, saying: "Come on, you do it. You do it best!"

And much to my surprise Connor suddenly landed on his butt on the floor - he fell right through the chair. I startled, because I didn't expect it, before I began to laugh. It looked too stupid. Connor just flashed me a sheepish grin and sat back down on the chair.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"It's simple. I just have to make it clear to myself that I'm not really sitting on this chair anyway. You see, normally you would've never tried walking through a wall because it wasn't possible before. But now that you're a guard matter doesn't really exist anymore. The only reason why you sit on that chair is because your former knowledge tells you so. The mental image you have of yourself makes you appear in the clothes you wear, with that hairdo, and...do you get it?"

I nodded. "I think I do. I'm still hanging on to the rules of how it is when you're alive, right?" The others nodded. "So, if I keep telling myself that nothing is real I could...fall through my chair?!"

"Basically!" Renae said and nodded. "You'll learn to decide, to control it. You know, sitting on a chair, but also being able to walk through closed doors. You mix it up, however it is convenient for you."

"Exactly", Derek said, standing up. He flashed me another smile and excused himself. "I gotta go now." Waving to all of us he called: "See you, guys!" Then he walked over to a pretty brunette near our table, who also got up to leave. I figured that she would be Diane.

Turning back to the others I grinned: "If I ever get sick of the clothes that I wear, could I change that?"

Deandra shook her head: "It should be possible, one would think, but somehow...it's like burned into your mind. The last image you had of yourself is the one you're taking with you. I, for example, didn't die in these clothes, but that's how I remembered myself."

Sudden sadness came over me. "May I ask how you died?" I asked timidly.

"Yeah", she smiled. "I died in a hospital. I lay in coma for about four months, before my family was able to let me go. I was brain dead by then. No one knows what exactly or why it happened, but one day at home I suddenly blacked out. I wasn't ill before, nor were there other signs that I was in a bad condition. It just happened. And I never woke up again."

I choked. I didn't know what to say. There she sat, Deandra, who was so kind all the time, who had such a positive charisma coming from her, who had most likely loved to live and enjoyed every day. Deandra, who had never been given a choice or a chance and simply died. And here was I, Carrie, who had wanted no more. I don't know if it had been my time or not, but it seemed as if I could have lived a long life, if only I had wanted to. But I had thrown it away because I had been too weak, too frightened to go on. How fair was this?! I wished Deandra and I could've changed places. Then she would still have a life to live, and I would've died instead of her.

"By the way", Catherine pulled me out of my thoughts, "you gotta confirm one of our theories. Can you tell us how you died?"

I began to stammer. Right now I really didn't want to tell them that I had committed suicide. Who knows which way the others had died? They would probably be mad or enraged to hear that I have thrown my life away, when all they had wanted was to grow old.

Fortunately Connor made it easier for me: "Did you listen to the Backstreet Boys when it happened?"

I nodded. "'Spanish Eyes'", I remembered. "I listened to 'Spanish Eyes'!"

Suddenly there was a mass of "You see!" or "I told you so" or "We knew that already!" and more.

"Hello!" I spoke up loudly. "What's going on?"

"We have this theory about how it gets decided who's angel you become", Catherine answered.

My ears perked up at that. Now that was interesting. I really wanted to know why oh why I was chosen to be AJ's angel. Not that I wanted to complain, I didn't mind. Yet, at least. I mean, I had no idea what was still in store for me. Probably guarding AJ wouldn't be so easy after all.

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