Chapter Eight

"I Look Like A Julian…"

Taylor lay cozily in his warm bed, drifting in and out of semi-sleep. He listened to his brothers breathing evenly in their sleep. He took a look at the clock. 11:15. Five minutes and he'd have to get up and get ready. His only worry was that he had to try and get from the window to the tree. It was quite a gap, hence the reason he needed Isaac to lift him back inside. But he couldn't ask Isaac to lift him outside because then he would try to stop him going. And Taylor was going to meet Gabbie. Nothing was going to stop him; not even his big brother.

She'd called earlier that day, asking if he was still grounded. He'd lied to her and said no, after all, being grounded sounded so immature. So she'd asked him to go to a club with her, a club called Buttshakers, in downtown Tulsa. He'd agreed, figuring that he could sneak out. And he could; he'd just have to be very quiet about it. His parents were still up and sitting in the living room, trying to have some quality time together. After all, seven kids must be a strain on their relationship. If they heard any bumps from upstairs, they'd think somebody had fallen out of bed or something and come upstairs. Zac and Isaac weren't a problem. They both slept like logs, hence the reason they'd been so hard to wake that other night. Mind you, he'd thought earlier that they were never going to go to sleep. Taylor had escaped to bed early, about ten o'clock, so he could keep his clothes on without anyone noticing. Isaac and Zac had joined him about ten-thirty, then decided to talk and talk and talk for ages. Finally, Isaac had dropped off about eleven, but Zac had continued babbling mindlessly and had only been asleep for the past five minutes. Taylor just prayed that he would stay sleeping and not wake back up.

Pushing back his comforter, he got to his feet and crept quietly across the room to the bathroom. He silently dabbed on some cologne, realizing that another spray of deodorant was out of the question. Damn aerosols. Too noisy. He quickly ran his comb through his hair and sucked on his toothbrush for a minute, his way of ensuring fresh breath. He slipped back into the bedroom and slid his feet into his black boots, sitting down on the bed to lace them up. The bedsprings squeaked. Taylor cursed silently, hoping that nobody would wake up.

"Tay?" came a sleepy, mumbled voice from Zac's bed. "That you?"

Taylor winced, figuring he would only sound all the more odd if he didn't answer. "Yeah, it's me."

"You okay?" Zac sounded so sleepy, Taylor wondered if perhaps he was sleep talking.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Zac."

"What you…what you doin'?"

Taylor could tell from Zac's slurred and hesitant speech that he was almost asleep again. Either that or he was drunk out of his brain, but Taylor was going for the sleepy one. He got up and tiptoed over to Zac's bed, lightly running his finger along Zac's flushed cheek. "I'm only going to the bathroom, little guy," he whispered gently. "Go back to sleep, 'kay?"

"'Kay. Night, Tay."

"Night, Zac." Taylor wasn't sure if Zac had heard him. Already his breathing was back into the feverish, steady rhythm of sleep.

He waited a few moments, then grabbed his wallet and stealthily crept to the window, slowly sliding it open. He threw his wallet outside, hearing it land on the lawn with a soft thud. Lucky he didn't have a lot of money in it, or the thud would have been a lot louder.

Reaching out, he clasped both hands round the branch of the tree and lifted one leg up onto the windowsill, pulling the rest of his body up there with it. Crouching like Batman on the narrow exterior window ledge, he silently pulled down the window behind him. Looking down, he suddenly realized that he was a long way up. Wiping the sweat from first one palm then the other, he re-clasped his hands round the branch. If only he was still twelve years old. He had been a great tree-climber then.

Cautiously, he lifted one leg and wrapped it round the branch, leaning all his weight on it, then pulling himself round so he was straddling the branch, praying that he wouldn't catch and rip his dress pants or get them too dirty. Fortunately, they were black, so a little bit of dirt wouldn't really show up. Wincing in pain, he slid himself backward along the branch, cursing himself for being a guy. Finally, after what seemed like ten minutes of excruciating pain, but was probably only really ten seconds at most, he reaching the trunk. Jamming the toe of his boot in the first twisted foothold, he skillfully climbed down the tree, retrieved his wallet and crept round the shadows of the lawn, breaking into a run when he reached the end of the driveway.

He grinned furiously, feeling like he'd just escaped from Alcatraz, rather than his own house. Jogging lightly up to Gabbie's waiting red Mazda Miata. "Hey!" he grinned, pulling the door open and climbing in.

"I thought you weren't coming!" Gabbie leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

"I had a bit of trouble getting down the tree," explained Taylor, clicking in his seatbelt. "I'm not as young as I used to be," he kidded, talking in an elderly voice.

"Just as well." Gabbie pumped the gas pedal and the car shot forward, causing Taylor to very nearly die of heart failure. "Sorry," she muttered, clenching the wheel tightly. "I got the fake IDs. You're now to be known as Julian Tate, by the way."

"Julian," mused Taylor, peering into the wing mirror and fixing his hair. "I look like a Julian… Suave, sophisticated, mature…"

Gabbie snorted. "Yeah, right, Tay! Weren't you the one who just climbed a tree?"

Taylor shrugged. "Nobody's gonna know that at Butt-wiggles-"

"Buttshakers!" Gabbie interrupted, correcting him.

"Butt-wiggles, Buttshakers. Zig, Zag. It’s the same difference," replied Taylor mildly. "So…have you been here before?"

"Sure. In fact, we're meeting some of my friends here," Gabbie told him, turning into the parking lot.

"We are?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Taylor had been kinda hoping for some time alone with Gabbie.

"Is that a problem?" demanded Gabbie as she glided into a parking space. Her voice had taken on a new tone. It was almost challenging.

"Not at all," lied Taylor smoothly. "Are you drinking?"

Gabbie looked at him like he was an imbecile.

"Well, I was just wondering, you know…um…" stumbled Taylor. "With you bringing the car and all."

"I'll leave it here and get a cab home." Gabbie spoke slowly, as if explaining things to a small child.

With that, she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her, leaving a shocked and hurt Taylor inside the car, wondering what the hell was wrong with his girlfriend.

***

Standing in the shadows
Wond'ring what I'm doing here
Wishing something would happen
Maybe I could disappear

The lyrics to the first four bars of 'Look At You' just wouldn't leave Taylor's head. They described his situation at the present moment perfectly. Here he was, crammed around a small table with Gabbie and her friends from Tulsa University. Well, Gabbie had been there previously, but she had disappeared about ten minutes ago, apparently to the Ladies room. Well, Taylor thought bitterly, either she has a fiber deficiency or she's fallen in.

On his left sat Justin, a psychology major, who was a short, skinny guy, with long, ratty, curly hair tied back in a messy ponytail. On his long, beaky nose perched a pair of small, round, wire-rimmed glasses. He was dressed in brown cords and a red plaid shirt, and had apparently not yet discovered the wonders of deodorant, judging by the smell of that aura of his that he kept going on about. Taylor had thought that auras were meant to bypass all five senses, but this guy's aura had a knock-on effect on Taylor's nasal sense.

On his right, there was Kristy, who was majoring in English and studying what seemed like a million other subjects as well. A short girl of average build, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes, Kristy could've really been a knockout if she'd tried. But instead, she was dressed in a pair of black palazzo pants, along with a long, flowing tunic that wouldn't have looked out of place on Rhia Davidson. She didn't look bad; she just could've looked better. She was, Taylor had discovered, actually a very nice girl, the only one of Gabbie's friends to try to talk to him. But she was also shy, and seemed to become a little tongue-tied around him. All the same, though, Taylor thought she was really nice.

He sat there, stirring the long vodka he'd managed to purchase at the bar as Julian Tate, aged twenty-one years and three months. He still couldn't believe the barman had fallen for it, but he guessed that if you showed them an ID, then they didn't care, because they couldn't get into trouble for it. Taylor wasn't usually a big drinker, but he figured that anything might make the night pass faster.

"Having a good time, man?" slurred Justin. Apparently, he wasn't drunk - well, he'd been on the orange juice all night, so it was impossible - but he was so chilled out, that even his tongue muscles appeared to have slackened.

"A ball," replied Taylor sullenly.

"Hey, man, chill!" Justin gave him the peace sign.

Taylor considered inverting it and giving him it back, but decided that making rude gestures to Gabbie's friends wasn't really going to help.

"Tay!" Suddenly a high screech vibrated through his eardrum, making him shudder.

He spun round. "Gabbie?"

Gabbie stood before him, swaying slightly, her eyes glittering madly and her dress rumpled. She giggled giddily, leaning forward and almost falling on top of him. "Tay…let's dance!"

Taylor shrugged. "Sure."

Gabbie screamed, "Yeah, baby!" and grabbed him, pulling him frantically across the dance-floor.

Taylor watched, with a bemused smile on his face, as Gabbie shimmied all over the place, back and forward, round and round. It was making him feel slightly seasick. The repetitive music thudded loudly through his brain.

Right about now
Funk, soul, brother
Check it out now,
Funk, soul, brother

Right about now,
Funk, soul, brother,
Check it out now,
Funk, soul, brother

Gabbie bopped up to him, grabbing him roughly by the shirt and pulling him down to kiss her. Her breath was practically saturated with alcohol. "Loosen up!" she giggled, leaning dizzily to her left side. "Drink!" she commanded, thrusting her glass at him.

"What is it?" Taylor peered curiously at the vivid blue liquid in the frosted glass.

"It's a Blue Blinder." Gabbie spun round quickly, her mass of curls frizzing out wildly. "Try it! It's great!"

Taylor wondered briefly why it was called a Blue Blinder, before figuring that it couldn't make the night any worse and downing it in one go.

***

Taylor blinked, trying to focus on the zipper on his pants.

"You okay?" Gabbie struggled with the buttons on her shirt. She finally got the last one in, before realizing that she had buttoned it up all wrong and collapsing into giggles for what seemed like the millionth time that night.

"Yeah…fink so…" slurred Taylor, trying to regain some control over his actions. After his first Blue Blinker, or whatever it was called, he'd gone on to have a few more. However many a few was, he was unsure. All he knew was that he was now feeling the effects of it. "Gabbie?" he frowned. "Why we in here again?"

He looked round the dingy store cupboard, trying to figure out why he had woken up, partially undressed in amongst all the broken chairs and empty beer kegs.

Gabbie grinned at him sexily. "You mean you don't remember?"

"Did we…uh…"

"Yeah. You were great, honey. As usual."

"Did we use protection?" Taylor wasn't drunk enough to bypass the important facts.

Gabbie grinned uncontrollably, holding up and empty three-pack of Durex. "We did. A few times…"

Suddenly, the door burst open, the bright light making Taylor and Gabbie shield their eyes.

"You two. Out. Now!" yelled the huge, bald man in the doorway. "What the hell to you think you're doing in here?"

Gabbie wobbled up to the bouncer, teetering on her stilettos. She pinched his cheeks. "Aww, lighten up, big boy! Gotta have a little fun! All work and no play makes-" she squinted at his nametag in the semi-darkness "-Kalif a dull boy!" And with that she pushed past him.

Taylor grinned meekly at the guy by way of apology, then followed Gabbie outside. "You," he smiled, pulling her close, "are a bad, bad girl."

Gabbie just stared at him. "I know!" she hissed, licking his ear, then swooping in for a kiss.

Taylor deepened the kiss, then pulled away. "What was that?"

"What?"

"That light?"

"What light, honey?" Gabbie stroked Taylor's cheek. "You're imagining things."

Taylor shrugged, before sticking out his arm and hailing a Taxi. One pulled up straight away, and he struggled to pull the door open.

Gabbie teetered over, practically falling into the Taxi, and Taylor followed suit, not entirely balanced himself.

He told the driver the addresses, then sank back into the seat, leaning his head on Gabbie's shoulder.

"Taylor?" murmured Gabbie.

"Yeah?"

"I...um…I gotts somefin' to…um…tell ya," she slurred.

"Shoot."

"I'm goin' back to Ohio. For…uh…for a…three weeks."

Taylor suddenly didn't feel so drunk. "No, you're not. You're drunk, and you're making this up, Gabbers."

"No, I ain't!" she protested. "I haveta…I gotta go back. But I'll call you, kay?"

Taylor felt the tears fill in his eyes. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Tay-Tay, don't be mad," she wheedled, gazing up at him.

Taylor leaned over and pecked her on the cheek, then, as the Taxicab pulled to a stop, whispered, "Goodbye, Gabbie" and climbed out.

He'd given the driver the address of a house a short walk away from his house, figuring that it would be quieter and that the air might clear his head and sober him up a little. After all, who could climb a tree drunk?

As he reached his house, it appeared to be in complete darkness, which was good. Creeping round beside the bushes and then climbing up the tree was practically becoming a routine now, and Taylor felt and incredible sense of déjà vu. He struggled to find the footholds, but eventually, with only a few slips, managed to make it to the window.

Inside, through the gap in the curtains, Taylor could see Zac, sleeping soundly, his face flushed and his hair matted.

Leaning over, Taylor rapped loudly on the window, forgetting to be quiet.

Instantaneously - and unusually - it could take an earthquake to wake him - Zac shot bolt upright in his bed, staring in terror at the window. He visibly relaxed when he saw it was Taylor, and got up to wake Isaac.

In a few second, Isaac was at the open window, his face as dark as thunderclouds. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded.

"I was sleepwalkin'!" Taylor giggled inanely.

"Taylor, have you been drinking?" Isaac's eyes widened, as he leaned out of the window to pull Taylor inside.

Taylor didn't answer, but once inside, with his arms still wrapped around Isaac's neck, he leaned in closer. "You know what, Ike?" he whispered drunkenly, as if he were about to tell his biggest secret. "I love you! And Zac, I love you too. And I love Mom and Dad and Jess, Avie, Mackie and Zoë. I love the Spice Girls, I love Kathy Lee, I love Letterman, I love Clinton, I love the world. But most of all, Ike, I love you."

Isaac pushed Taylor roughly away from him and down onto the bed. "Taylor, it's five thirty and you're drunk."

"So what? You should try it sometime, it's great, and I thoroughly recommend it!"

Isaac shot a look at Zac, who was still standing at the window, biting his lip and looking as if he might cry. This was obviously scaring him, as it would after just being woken up by your underage drunk brother.

Taylor got to his feet. "I gotta shower!"

"Not at this time in the morning, you don't!" Isaac grabbed his arm.

Taylor shoved him so hard; he fell back on to the bed. "Leave me alone!" he spat, stalking into the bathroom, leaving Isaac staring after him, wondering what on Earth he was going to do with him.

***

"TAYLOR!!!!" The yells echoed round in Taylor's mind, rattling off different parts of his brain and vibrating inside his skull.

Suddenly, he sat up. The clock flashed 9:01am. Groaning, he lay back down, having just discovered exactly why that drink last night had been called a Blue Blinder. He now had a blinder of a headache. And he was incredibly thirsty.

"TAYLOR!!!!" There it was again.

The door burst open, revealing Zac, clad only in boxers and a T-shirt. "Dad wants you."

Taylor rolled out of bed and on to the floor. "Why?" he moaned. "Why can't I just sleep?"

Zac rolled his eyes. "Aw, well, gee, Tay, I dunno. Maybe if you'd gone to bed when you said you were instead of sneaking out like some retarded idiot - like you obviously are - then you wouldn't be so tired!" He turned on his heel and stomped out of the room as loudly as was humanly possible in bare feet.

Taylor stared after him, unable to understand why Zac was in such a bad mood with him, and at that particular moment, unable to care. He struggled up until he was standing, then staggered out of the room, as Isaac emerged from his parents' room, carrying Zoë.

"Tay, Dad wants you," Isaac muttered.

"So everyone keeps saying. What for?"

"How the hell should I know?!" snapped Isaac. "But my guess is that you've got some serious explaining to do, and about darn time too!"

"Why are you pissed at me?" asked Taylor simply, gripping tightly onto the banister as he slowly descended the staircase.

Isaac just snorted, before pushing past him and running down the stairs, holding Zoë tightly.

Taylor frowned, but made his way down the rest of the stairs.

"Jordan Taylor Hanson, in here, now."

Hearing his Dad's voice from inside the family room, Taylor pushed the door open. "Yeah?"

"Sit down."

Taylor sighed and sat down. This was all too reminiscent of the night he'd gotten grounded after running out of the shopping mall.

"Jessica, Avery, could you go to your room please?" Mr Hanson's voice was calm and controlled.

"Aww, Dad!" whined Avery. "We were-"

"Avie, come on." Jessica seemed to recognize the tone of her dad's voice. "I'll do your hair."

"In bunches? Like Baby Spice?" Avery's eyes shone.

"Sure, why not?" Jessica grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her out of the room, leaving Taylor alone with his father.

Mr Hanson turned to Taylor. "Did you have a good night last night?"

Taylor's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, I guess. It's kinda hard to have a raving party when you're grounded."

"So, the name Buttshakers doesn’t mean anything to you?"

Taylor blinked in surprise. "Should it?" he squeaked unconvincingly, his throat closing up on him and his face reddening.

Mr Hanson's eyes darkened. "Jordan Taylor Hanson, it's bad enough that you defied me, but it's even worse that you're lying about it yet again!"

Taylor gulped. "Dad, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

Mr Hanson exploded, jumping to his feet and beginning to yell. "And it's a thousand times worse that you're still lying about it even now! To think I had to find out from a trashy tabloid that you defied me! Not only do you sneak out, but you sneak out to a club and get yourself drunk! Are you actually aware that you're underage?"

"Dad, I-"

"Quiet! I'm not done yet! I am extremely disappointed in you, Taylor! Out of the three of you, I thought you were the one with his head screwed on! I really just don't believe this!"

"Neither do I!" yelled Taylor. "I bet Ike ratted on me, didn't he? Or Zac, didn't he? One of them did it! Just cos I woke them up a few times in the middle of the-" Taylor stopped abruptly, realizing that he'd just got himself in even more trouble.

"A few times? You mean there's more?"

"No, it's…just, um, a figure of speech. But they ratted on me, didn't they?"

Mr Hanson sat back down, the angry father of a few moments gone, and in its place, a calm, controlled and extremely disappointed man. "No, Tay, they didn't. I wish they had though. Here. See for yourself." He threw a newspaper at Taylor. "Page seven," he muttered.

Taylor glanced at the front page. In the top left hand corner, beside a picture of himself, a small box read, "Teen heartthrob caught in adult club. Full story see page seven." He turned to page seven, seeing a full page spread, the main item being a picture of him and Gabbie kissing. So he had seen a light. A damn photographer's flash! In the picture, Gabbie had her back to the camera, but Taylor was clearly visible, his face at an angle with Gabbie, eyes squeezed tightly shut, blue stains at the corners of his lips and one of his hands on Gabbie's rear and the other in her hair. The headline screamed: MMMBOP BROTHER'S LIFE AIN'T EASY - TAYLOR HANSON DRUNK AND SLEAZY.

Taylor stared down at it in disbelief. "What a terrible headline," he muttered.

"The point is not the journalistic quality of this trash! Read it!"

Taylor read the article, which described Taylor "staggering out if the club, locking lips and roaming his hands all over the girl with him." It then went on to say how he "practically fell into a Taxi," and gave a brief discography of Hanson's achievements, then went on to quote Taylor saying he'd never been drunk before, and that nobody had a girlfriend.

He hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry."

"And so you should be! Tay, do you have any idea how bad for publicity this could be? Record sales will go down, half the pre-teen girls in the country will spend today crying, probably rip down all their Hanson posters and replace them with 'N Sync ones! How could you be so stupid?"

Taylor's eyes hardened. "You know what? I'm not sorry. Not at all."

"Excuse me?" Mr Hanson glared at him.

"Are you mad at Taylor, your son, or Taylor Hanson, the popstar? All you care about is record sales and how everything I do affects it! It's not fair, Dad! Don't I get a life too? I'd understand if you were mad at me for what I'd done, but not because of how it will affect business! Do you even realize that we're your sons any more, and not just your clients?" He threw himself back down on the couch, tears welling in his eyes. A few seconds later, he felt his dad's hand on his shoulder.

"Tay, come on. Sit up. I'm sorry. I guess I have been going overboard on the business side of things. What you did was still wrong, and you can consider yourself grounded for quite some time, but I'm sorry."

Taylor sat up and wrapped his arms round his father, sobbing into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Dad, I really am."

"I know, son." Mr Hanson wrapped his own arms around his trembling son, holding him tightly. "Just go to your room and apologize to Ike. You owe both him and Zac an apology. This'll affect them too. Zac will have to wait; he's gone off somewhere. But go see Ike. I think they're both a little mad at you."

Taylor pulled back, wiping his eyes. "Yeah, I noticed."

"On you go, then."

"How long am I grounded for?" asked Taylor.

"I'll have to discuss it with your mother."

Taylor sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get off lightly with this one and got up, making his way to the door. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Do we have any Advil?"

Mr Hanson smiled. "What exactly were you drinking?"

Taylor grimaced. "Blue Blinders."

"Then I'm guessing you're learning your lesson as we speak?"

"You could say that." Taylor miserably slipped out of the room, headed to the kitchen to take two Advil, and then climbed the stairs to his room.

He walked into the room, finding Isaac lying on his bed, writing a letter.

"So, how long are you grounded for?"

"Excuse me?"

"Because of what you did to us. I really don't believe you, Tay!"

Taylor sighed wearily. "Look, Ike, I've just had this out with Dad. I really don't need to hear it in stereo."

"Dad's not the one that's had to lift you inside that window every night!" Isaac's eyes flashed angrily.

"It wasn't every night!" protested Taylor.

"Near enough! And I bet that Dad's not even mad at you any more, is he? You just grinned angelically, did your pathetic I'll-cry-and-you'll-hug-me-and-everything'll-all-be-fine-again routine and now it's all just fine and dandy, isn't it? God, you really are the Golden Boy of Hanson, aren't you, Tay?!" spat Isaac, looking thoroughly disgusted.

Taylor bit his lip, feeling the tears welling up again. "Ike, I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'll bet you are."

"Why are you being like this?"

"Look at you!" Isaac threw his arms up in the air. "You're gonna cry again! Well, Taylor, I'll tell you this. This time, I'm not taking you in my arms and giving you a hug, because, to tell you the truth, right now, I really don't give a shit! You brought this on all by yourself, and you deserve absolutely everything you're getting, and a hell of a lot more!" He turned and stomped out of the room, yelling to his mom that he was going to see Honey. Seconds later, the front door slammed and the engine of the car was heard revving in the driveway.

Feeling completely miserable, Taylor buried his head in his pillow and did something he hadn't done for a long, long time, especially not at nine-thirty in the morning.

He cried himself to sleep.

***

Zac bent down over the green baize table, lining up the cue with the white snooker cue ball. He tapped it gently, knocking it into, and pocketing, a red.

"That's the last of the reds pocketed. Can Hanson do it? Can he pot all the colors in ascending points' order in sixty seconds, without missing any? And he's going for the yellow. And it's potted! Oh, no, it's not. Hanson is out! And up next, it's Saunders."

"Matt, quit with the commentary, okay? It's not funny, and it's downright annoying!" Zac pulled out his ponytail and shook his long blond hair around his shoulders.

"Fine," shrugged Matthew, pushing back his floppy brown fringe. "Hey, Price, you're kinda quiet? What’s up?"

Corey ignored him, continuing to stare at his socks.

"Weather getting you down?" teased Matt.

It was raining so hard, it was practically falling in sheets, so Zac, Matt, Corey and Steven had opted for a day in Corey's basement yet again, but this time mucking about with the pool/snooker table instead of playing cards.

Zac sat down next to Corey. "What's up, dude?"

Corey sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"I know what it is!" crowed Matt. "Girl trouble! You had that date with Libby a few nights ago! How'd it go? How far did it go? Does she like you? Does she hate you? Tell me more, tell me more!"

Corey jumped up, shot Matt a look that would wither the strongest plant and raced out of the room. His footsteps could be heard all the way up to his room.

"What's his problem?" Matt snorted, rolling his eyes. Matthew Torwood was a firm believer in the myth that guys shouldn't show any emotion whatsoever.

"I'll go see," offered Zac, heading up the stairs from the basement.

Tapping lightly on Corey's bedroom door, he called, "Corey? It's Zac. Can I come in?" There was no answer, so Zac walked in anyway.

Corey's room looked like a tornado had swept through it. Not impossible in Oklahoma, Zac thought. But pretty unlikely. Clothes were strewn everywhere, covering every surface imaginable, from tops of desks and chairs to the bed and even the bedside lamp. Magazines and empty candy wrappers littered the floor and sports equipment was everywhere you turned. Corey was sitting on his bed, wringing a pair of Adidas tracksuit bottoms in his hands.

Zac picked his way through the debris, tripping over a pair of Rollerblades en route, and sat next to Corey on the bed. "What's up?" he asked, for the second time that day.

Corey shook his head.

"It's something to do with Libby. Just tell me."

Corey paused for a moment. "I just can't figure her out, Zac. One minutes she's hot, the next she's cold. I really have no idea how she feels about me."

Tell me about it, thought Zac. But aloud, he asked, "Did the date go okay?"

"It was great. I mean, we talked, we laughed, the movie was great, we really connected, and we made out a lot. She is one hell of a kisser, by the way."

Yeah, I know, thought Zac bitterly. "So what went wrong?" he asked, trying to sound natural.

"She promised she'd call me, and she hasn't. Have you seen her? I mean, she lives right across the road from you."

"Nah." Zac wasn't lying. Things had been pretty quiet on the Libby-front for the past few days. "Maybe she's gone away somewhere."

"Maybe." Corey didn't sound convinced.

"So are you two, like, an item?" The words almost caught in Zac's throat, but he had to know.

Corey shrugged. "She said we could go steady. She said she wanted to. But do you really not call your boyfriend when you say you will? But yeah, according to her we are."

Zac felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Libby was really the only girl he'd ever liked. The only girl he'd ever kissed. The only girl who'd really been interested in him. Sure, all the fans and their "I Love Zac" signs were nice, but they were in love with Zac Hanson, popstar, third of Hanson. They weren't in love with Zac, the individual. They didn't know Zac, the individual. Sometimes Zac wondered if anybody knew Zac, the individual. Sure, his family did, well, his immediate family, anyway. He presumed that his friends did, but really, he, Ike and Tay went about in the same group, just different branches of it, and they all interlinked. Sometimes, Zac wondered if he even knew Zac, the individual. If there really was a Zac, the individual. Maybe he was nothing without Ike and Tay. He knew he couldn't live without them, and didn't want to, but it would have been reassuring to know that if the unimaginable happened, that Zac would survive.

But Libby had seemed interested in him. Not Tay, not Ike, not Hanson. Just Zac. Maybe she could have helped him become slightly more independent, live his own life, and not always in his brothers' shadows. Now his hopes were dashed. Not that Zac really minded. He didn't feel as if he lived in Ike and Tay's shadows, and he didn't mind even if he did. He knew he was a valuable part of Hanson - the band and the family - and that some people really did care about him. But it would have been nice to feel that someone outside of the family cared about him in the same way.

But it was Corey Libby wanted, he that she had chosen. Not Zac.

"Zac?"

Zac snapped back to reality, seeing Corey staring at him in a concerned way.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Zac grinned sheepishly. "Look, I'm, uh, just gonna spilt now, 'kay?"

"But it's only just past four."

"Yeah, I got stuff to do. Call her, man!" he yelled, before jogging out of the room, leaving behind him a very confused Corey.

***

Isaac pulled into the driveway and turned off the car engine, having just returned from an afternoon with Honey. He glanced up at his bedroom window. It was open, and from it the soft strains of Diana Ross spilled. Taylor was obviously still depressed about something.

He climbed out of the car and walked into the house, heading straight up to his room. Pushing open the door, he stopped in shock.

Taylor, who hadn't even seemed to notice Isaac coming in, was on the phone, facing the other way, surrounded by a mountain of Kleenex and crying.

Isaac felt his chest tighten, seeing Taylor so upset. He felt so guilty about yelling at him earlier on that morning.

Down the phone, Taylor was wailing, "But you said three weeks!" He blew his nose on a hanky.

The music was playing softly from the CD player, mingling with Taylor's sobs.

I wanna call the stars
Down from the sky
I wanna live a day
That never dies
I wanna change the world
Only for you
All the impossible
I won't do

"But Gabbie, please don't do this to me! I need you! I love you, Gabbie!"

Isaac frowned, not quite able to figure out what exactly was going on here.

I wanna hold you close
Under the rain
I wanna kiss your smile
And feel the pain
I know what's beautiful
Looking at you
In a world of lies
You are the truth

Taylor sniffed, appearing to have calmed down a little. "Yeah," he sobbed. "I understand. No, I'm not crying…No, I have bad hayfever. Really…You are coming back though?"

And baby, every time you touch me
I become a hero
I'll make you safe no matter where you are
And give you everything you ask for
Nothing is above me
I'm shining like a candle in the dark
When you tell me that you love me

"Okay, I love you Gabbie…Please say it. Say that you love me too?" Taylor's face tensed up, then relaxed a little.

When you tell me that you love me

"Yeah, yeah, I gotta go too. Bye."

When you tell me that you love me

Taylor hung the phone up and burst into tears. He flopped down on the bed, burying his face in the covers.

"Tay?"

Taylor didn't look up.

Isaac sat down on the bed next to Taylor and placed his hand on his shaking shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Like you care." Taylor's voice was barely audible through the thick comforter.

Isaac rolled his eyes. "I do care, and you know it. Did you break up?"

Taylor shook his head.

"Well, why are you so upset?"

"She's in Ohio. She got there today."

"Ohio?"

"Yes, Isaac, Ohio."

"What's she doing there?"

Taylor rolled over. "I don't know! I don't know! For all I know, she's getting married!"

Isaac frowned, biting on his lip. "How long for?"

"It was supposed to be for three weeks. But now she doesn't know how long she's staying."

"Did she tell you she loved you?" asked Isaac.

"None of your business," replied Taylor bluntly.

"Tay, what's with the attitude?"

Taylor didn't reply.

"Oh, for God's sake, Tay!" yelled Isaac. "What the hell is it with you? You're moody, you're rude, we can't talk to you any more, you scared the shit out of Zac when you came in drunk. Just what the hell is your problem?!" He stopped to take a breath, then looked Taylor directly in the eye. "You're sleeping with her, aren't you?"

"Isaac!" Taylor looked shocked by the question.

"You are, though, aren't you? Aren't you?"

"No," lied Taylor, sticking his chin out defiantly.

"Yes, you are."

"Don't tell me what I am or am not doing!" screamed Taylor.

"Well, then, why have you showered every single time you've come in, whether it be the middle of the night or the middle of the afternoon?"

"Because I like being clean!" exclaimed Taylor.

"Because you're covered in-"

"Shut it!"

"How many times, Tay? Once? Twice? Sixty?"

"Ike, it's none of your business."

"So you are sleeping with her."

"Don't tell me about the state of my sex life!" yelled Taylor. "At least I've got one!"

"And who says I haven't?"

"Yeah, right, Ike, you just keep telling yourself that!"

"What, so all of a sudden, you're this big stud? I don't think so, Tay! I think you lost your brain along with your virginity!"

"At least I'm not hanging onto it for dear life!"

"Uh, guys?"

Isaac and Taylor both whirled round to face the door. "Zac!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Yeah, uh, hi. Quit with the sex talks!" Zac wandered in and flopped down on his bed.

"Isaac here has an imaginary sex life!" Taylor told him. "Ain't that sweet? Most people have imaginary friends, but Ike decided to be a little different."

"Taylor, I'm gonna wring your neck!"

"Go for it. I'm terrified, as you can see."

Something inside Isaac suddenly snapped. "That's it! That's it, Taylor, that's it! I'm sick to the back teeth of you! You and your goddamn self-righteous attitude! Mr I-Can-Do-No-Wrong, Mr I'm-Better-Than-The-World-And-It's-Auntie, Mr Perfect! It's about time you realized something: You're not perfect. Sure, you have a lot of fans, and you're a good-looking guy, there's no disputing that, but on the inside, right now, you're the ugliest person I know. Things are wrong with you, Tay, just like everybody else. You've got fillings in your teeth, you had head lice when you were younger, your feet stink just as much as everyone else's. And your attitude sucks, completely. You need to get yourself down off that goddamn pedestal of yours and take a long hard look at yourself. And if you've got any sense left in your head, you won't like what you see."

Taylor stared coldly at Isaac. "I don't have to take that from you."

"No," agreed Isaac, "you don't. But I hope for your sake that you do." He turned and stalked out of the room.

Taylor sat down on the bed, feeling totally shocked. "He doesn't know what he's talking about," he muttered.

"Actually, Tay, he does," spoke up Zac quietly. "He's telling the truth, buddy. Just think about what he said." He followed Isaac out of the room, leaving Taylor completely alone and completely numb.

Credit for music goes to
Hanson - "Look At You"
Fatboy Slim - "Rockafeller Skank"
Diana Ross - "When You Tell Me That You Love Me."

Chapter Nine
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