"Oh man! Can you believe this?! This is wild!!" Justin exclaimed as they moved through the bustle of the hotel lobby, desperately trying to get to their tour bus with out being devoured by the crowd of mostly young female German worshippers.

"Just try not to get killed, Justin!" Chris shouted at the younger boy as he reached the safe confines of the bus. A year and a half ago they were still sweating blood and tears in an old warehouse in Orlando, trying to scrape together enough money to make a demo tape. And now, they were being mobbed by hordes of adoring fans wherever they were going in Europe, thanks to the surprising success of their first single and CD. As the security team finally got all five of them safely onto the bus and headed toward the next city and venue, they settled down as much as they could, knowing that the upcoming exit from the bus would be as easy as their struggle to get onto the bus.

"Hey Lance, what's our schedule after we do this concert tonight?" Joey asked as he reached into the fridge to grab a Coke. Without even looking up from what he was doing, Lance answered automatically. He had become the de facto day planner, personal manager, and event coordinator for the group. He didn't really know how he had been awarded the job, just that it was now his job, his role in the group. He had never really minded taking care of things, but he did mind the default atmosphere surrounding it.

"We're catching the late train back to Paris, and then an early flight back home in the morning." Lance answered, still trying to come to terms with the numbers that were jumping out at him from the stack of papers on the table. For months he had been trying to make the numbers work, and he still couldn't quite match the large numbers of CDs, singles, and other items that Lou was telling them they had sold to the paltry amount of money that Lou was giving to them for their hard efforts. Either he was a complete idiot when it came to math, or something was not right with the situation. Unfortunately, he had no proof, and thus no foundation to bring this to the rest of the guys at this point in time.

"And what are we doing once we get back home?" Joey asked again, hoping that the answer would be a vacation. They had been on the road in Europe for more than three months, and he knew they were all exhausted. He just wanted a few nights of sleeping in his own bed and eating his mother's cooking again.

"We're going to do a Disney concert special of some type. I'm not really sure, but Lou just faxed over some papers about it yesterday. Johnny's going to meet us at the airport and fill us in." Lance answered again, his mind still focused on the numbers on the spreadsheet in front of him.

"Anything wrong Lance?" JC asked, noticing how distracted he was.

"Uh … oh … nothing. I'm just trying to do some math, that's all." Lance replied, trying to convince himself more than anything that nothing was wrong.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Come on Lou! Give us a break! We can't possibly do all of this in a month!" Lance angrily shouted into the telephone. "We're already doing the Disney special, and then three days of working in the studios, and then the three week mini-tour. And now you want us to find more time to re-shoot the video? The only way we can do that is if we give up our two off days at the end of the month!!" He could feel another migraine coming on as he talked to Lou Pearlman, their supposed manager and producer extraordinaire. Funny how "Big Poppa" always made them feel as if they were his stepchildren, getting second-hand offerings and leftovers of whatever the Backstreet Boys threw away.

"I know, Lou. We all know that it's hard work to make it in the music business. But there is a difference between working hard and indentured servitude," Lance barked back into the phone, having just about enough of Lou's pompous piety for the moment. "You heard me. I've been going over the books, Lou. And funny how much devaluation goes on these days between the deutschmark and the dollar." He angrily slammed the phone back into its receiver, not noticing JC's entrance into the room.

"Another argument with Lou?" JC asked as he sat down on his own bed. He had noticed how stressed out Lance had gotten lately whenever he had to deal with their producer.

"It wasn't an argument, JC. Just a difference of opinion," Lance replied, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a bottle of Advil. The migraine was hitting him with full force now. Not bothering with going downstairs to get water, he took out three tablets and swallowed them dry.

"Lie down on your bed," JC commanded, getting up and walking over to the younger boy.

"What?" Lance said, not sure if he heard his friend correctly. "It's the middle of the day. I have to finish this paperwork before we begin taping for Disney tomorrow."

"Look, you're too stressed right now. You can't even think straight after popping three of those pills. Just lie down and take a little nap. I'll wake you up in an hour or so, then you can get back to your work." JC said as he gently pushed Lance back onto the bed. Using his fore and middle fingers, JC gently began to rub his friend's temples, trying to massage away the stress and pain inside Lance's skull. It took about two minutes before Lance's breathing fell into a regular pattern, indicating sleep. Smiling, JC got up and pulled a blanket over the sleeping figure, and quietly left the room with no intention of waking Lance up until well later into the afternoon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Aren't you going to sleep now?" JC asked as he collapsed in his bed. They had just spend 36 hours straight at the Disney studio, re-shooting the 'I Want You Back' video because Lou didn't think that it fit in well with the American market. It was somewhere between 3 and 5 AM, JC didn't even know for sure because he had lost all track of time.

"No, you go ahead, I have to finish getting everything together for this promotional mini-tour we're going on," Lance said as he clicked the small light on his desk on and sat down to a three-inch thick stack of papers. "If the light bothers you, I'll go downstairs to the den."

"Lance, that paperwork can wait a few hours. You need to get some rest. We're boarding the plane in ten hours," JC argued. If he was exhausted, he could only imagine how Lance felt.

"I can't JC. I have to finish this tonight," Lance said again, already digging into the paper pile. He barely noticed that JC was suddenly right beside him. Without saying a word, JC clicked the light on the table off. Lance clicked the light back on, and JC clicked the light off again.

"JC, stop this. I'm not in the mood for another fight with you, okay?" Lance said with just a hint of anger in his voice. "You go to sleep, when I'm finished here, I'll catch a couple of hours of sleep before we have to leave in the morning."

"Lance, go – to – bed – NOW," JC said sternly as he all but ripped the lamp's electrical cord from the wall.

"Look, your highness, I said that I needed to –" Lance never finished his answer as JC roughly picked him up out of the chair, threw him onto his own bed, and literally sat on the younger boy as he began to remove Lance's shoes and socks.

"Goddammit! JC!! What the fuck are you doing?!?" Lance shouted.

"I'm putting a very stubborn, pigheaded, death-warmed over country boy to bed, that's what I'm doing!" JC shouted right back at his prisoner. "You've been going full speed for 24/7 for the last few months. Do you know how bad you look? How stressed out you are? How skinny you've become?!"

"Get the hell off me right now, JC!" Lance shouted again, struggling to get JC off his own body. "I have work to do before we –"

"You have sleep to catch up on, that's what you have to do!" JC said angrily. "You're going to collapse soon if you keep this up!"

"Since when do you give a fuck about me or what I do?" Lance said as he finally got his hands around JC's waist and enough leverage to flip JC onto the other side of the bed. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough room for JC to actually fit onto the bed, and the two of them ended up falling onto the floor with a heavy thud, with JC getting the short end of the stick as Lance fell onto him.

"Since you called me JOSH," JC said quietly, their faces only inches away from each other. They were still staring into each other's eyes when the door flew open, with a very perturbed looking 17-year-old Justin looking at them as if he was about to kick both of their asses.

"What in the hell are y'all doing in here?!? Jesus H. Christ! It's four-fucking-fifteen in the goddamned morning!! Justin thundered as he pulled Lance off JC. "Can't the two of you keep your fighting to daylight hours?!?" Justin looked at Lance, then at JC, and finally back at Lance again. "Am I missing something here?"

"No, you're not missing anything, Justin," Lance answered, his eyes avoiding JC at all costs. "We were just going to bed."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Seventy dates in forty-five cities in three and a half months?!" Joey asked in disbelief as he looked at the tour schedule that Johnny handed out. "That means we'll be working straight through Christmas and New Year's."

"Yes, and that's only the first part of the tour, the second part will begin in mid-February and run through May." Chris said, flipping the pages of the packet. "Look at it this way, guys, if we don't die from a schedule like this, we're bound to set the world record for touring!"

"Come on guys, it'll be fun!" Justin said, trying not to sound too happy about it. All the other guys smiled, knowing that Justin would be happy to go to Mars on this tour, as long as he got to spend copious amounts of time with their opening act, Britney Spears.

"What do you think about all this, Lance?" Chris asked, seeing the look on Lance's face.

"I think we all better get some rest now because the next time we have a day off will be in the 21^st century." Lance said wearily. JC didn't say anything, but rather just stared at Lance with a very worried look on his face.