~Hi!! First, I would like to thank those who’d reviewed. A big huge THANK YOU goes out to all of you! And, I’m sooooo sorry for writing the first chapter in that orangey/yellowish colour. I’d done some “colour changes” for my computer and all the background for all the programs in my computer’s black and the text is in that orangey/yellowish colour. So, here’s chapter 2 and it’s NOT in that striking colour anymore. Enjoy! Lyl xxxx~

 

“Christian? You still here with us?” Tim asked, casting a look at Christian seated next to Mark in the “little meeting” he’d held. He knew it wasn’t fair to call on the lads for a meeting when it’s like 6 in the morning. Tim looked the other side and saw Ben hunched over the ring file that Tim had handed out earlier, his mouth hung open slightly.

Tim sighed and shook his head. This was leading to nowhere. Christian’s staring at the wall, not paying a single attention to anything that Tim had said and Paul was on the verge of calling it a day and go back to bed—he didn’t care if he slept till four in the evening, he just wants to sleep. Mark, on the other hand, wasn’t out partying the night before, which was very sensible of him and he’d went to bed earlier than the others. He seemed to be the only one who’s paying any attention to Tim at the moment.

Vicky let out a long breath and looked over at Christian. Sure, he’s sleepy and all but she could sensed that his mind was somewhere else. Probably trying to write a song in his head.

“Right, lads, it seems like none of you’re doing any good at the moment. I think we’ll just close this meeting but please come back tomorrow for a even more detailed meeting and this time, I don’t want any of you to be in a sleepy state like this!” Tim finally decided that it’s no use trying to get the whole 2003 schedule into their heads when their heads were still blur and drowsy. They probably need very strong coffee to wake them up properly but Tim doubted it.

There’re shuffling as Mark got up from his seat, gathering his coat that was draped on the back of the chair and his file. Paul slumped back on the chair and faced the ceiling and closed his eyes as he crossed his arms in front of him, trying to get some warmth while he tries to catch forty winks.

Tim and Vicky got up and were about to leave when Vicky cast a look backwards. “Lock up the door when you’re about to leave,” she said.

“Don’t worry, we will,” Mark promised.

 

~~~

 

He heard a glass broke in the kitchen. He got up cautiously and walked slowly into the kitchen, afraid of his father’s outbursts and beatings. It’s not that he liked them a lot but he still preferred his father “fussing” over him than his mother.

“What do you want, boy?” his father asked.

Uh-oh, he thought. He knew it’s a big mistake to go the kitchen. Normally, it’ll be better if you keep your thoughts to yourself and don’t be a busybody. He shouldn’t have walk into the kitchen and now, he knew there’s a price to pay for what he’d done.

He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to come but there’s none…

 

~~~

 

“I can’t write anything!” Christian slammed the pen down on the mahogany dining table. They’re back in the house that all of the a1 members shared. Paul’s currently asleep in the room upstairs and Ben was flat out on the couch. Mark was running around in the kitchen, fixing himself lunch, and hopefully fixing Christian something to eat as well. Boy, was he hungry… probably caused by the lack of breakfast because they’d rushed to Tim’s office as soon as everyone had his shower and finished dressing—apart from Paul. He simply pulled a pair of jeans over the boxers that he’d been wearing the other night and pulled on a rumpled t-shirt that he’d found somewhere in his room.

“Calm down, Chris,” Mark said as he sliced the potatoes before throwing them into the pan to be deep-fried. “You can’t write anything if you’re stressed.”

“Am not stress!” Christian argued back. “I’m just…” he trailed off as soon as he smelt the deep-fried potato slices that Mark was making. “That’s a very nice smell.” He twisted in his chair to face Mark. “You know what, it’s always a great idea to make you cook us something.”

“Haha… very funny, Chris but I’m still not impressed.” Mark busied himself again as he drained the oil off the potato slices before putting more slices into the frying pan. “Really, what’s eating you? You’ve not been paying any attention to Tim and Vicky during the meeting and you’re not really being yourself lately. Care to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, Mark,” Christian sighed. “It’s just nothing. It’s just that… I’d been thinking a lot, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“About many, many things. Things that I don’t even bother to think about during the past few years while I’m in a1.”

“Care to share?”

“Nah, I think I better keep ‘em all in. I’ll sort it all out later.”

“Sure you don’t wanna share?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay then, it’s your choice after all.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Ooh… it’s fine with me. You’re welcome.”

Christian left his seat and went over to the stove where Mark was stirring the slices of potatoes while they’re being fried. Seeing that Mark wasn’t looking, Christian nicked some of the deep-fried potatoes slices, wincing as his fingers came in contact with the heat that the snack was giving out.

“It’s rude to eat without the chef’s knowing.” Mark walked over to Christian’s seat and an amused smile played on his lips.

“Don’t care,” Christian retorted before stuffing one of the slices into his mouth, munching thoughtfully. Then, he picked up the pen and jotted some words on the paper.

“You see?”

“See what?”

“Things as simple as deep-fried potato slices never cease to help someone to calm down.” Mark grinned as he walked back to the stove to check on the chicken soup that he’d put to boil on the time Christian nicked the potato slices.

“Shut up, Mark!” Christian shot back as he munched on another slice. “You know full well that eating is essential and I’m very hungry at the moment.”

“It’s not the time to get smart with me, Ingebrigtsen.”

“Oohh… I’m very scared.”

“Really, if you’re talking about this food business and telling me that I’m wrong again, I swear you won’t get your lunch.”

“You wanna bet?” Christian laughed.

“Just ‘cause I know that I’m gonna win this bet!” Mark said indignantly.

“You wish!”

“Care to carry out the theory?”

“Why not?”

“Here’s the deal then…” Mark whispered something in Christian’s ear and Christian immediately collapsed into a heap of hysterics.

“Mark, you wouldn’t expect me to do that, would you?”

“Why, is there something wrong with the deal?”

“Yes!”

“Care to point out the mistakes then?”

“No… only ‘cause you’re gonna lose, big time,” Christian said confidently.

“Since when you’re as confident as this? I thought you’re always having the bunch of nervous/breakdown hormone every time someone’s trying to prove you wrong.”

“Guess I’d learn something while I’m in this band then.”

“Big ego. I think you’ve spent too much time with Adams.”

“He’s a very good influence.”

“You’re telling me that I’m not then?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…” Mark said thoughtfully. “Good point. But the thing is that, I’m more infectious than he is, isn’t it?”

“Only ‘cause you look cheesy when you smile and that always causes the people around you to smile cheesily too.”

“Gee, I’m hurt.”

“Glad to hear that, Mark.”

“You big meanie!” Mark accused.

“And I’m glad to be one.”

“God, I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time with you.”

“You know that I’m a very sane, charming, adorable person and I can teach you many things.”

“You’re saying that Ben’s not charming then?”

“I’m not saying anything close to that!”

“Backstabber. You’re saying that you’re cuter than Ben?”

“No, but…”

“Backstabber!”

“Mark…”

“Backst…”

“Shut it, Mark!”

“Alright, alright.” Mark turned to his friend. They hadn’t been having this sort of friendly chat ever since, well, ever since all of them were kept constantly occupied by their management—song writing for other bands, producing for other artistes, working with famous people for their new album, travelling around the region, etc.

“Still think that you’re more adorable than Ben?” Mark asked.

“Mark,” Christian begun in a I’m-very-annoyed tone.

Uh-oh, looks like he’d pushed things too far. He’s hoping that Christian wouldn’t try beating him up. Then again, Christian’s more like a big softie. He wouldn’t do any of that.

“We’re all adorable in our special ways. The fans love me for me and I don’t think they love me just because they think I’m cute.”

Uh-oh, lecture time, Mark thought.

“Well, Chris, I’m sure they think that you’re cute. If not, why do they love you then?”

“My personality!” Christian said triumphantly.

“Haha… very haha funny. I think I’ll die laughing.”

“Well, go on then. Drop dead. I’d love to see it.”

“Chris, you’re sarcasm’s coming along very well.”

“Why, thank you, Mark!” Christian beamed. “I knew you’d say that one day.”

Mark chuckled. “After all, you’ve been learning from a master…”

“And he would be?” Christian raised his eyebrows as far as they could go.

“Me!”

“Proud person with big ego and low self-esteem,” Christian rambled.

“Hey!”

“What? Where did I go wrong?”

“Proud… hmm… maybe,” Mark paused, his eyebrows furrowed as he pretended to be deeply in his thoughts. “Big ego? Don’t think so but low self-esteem…” Mark looked at Christian seriously. “Definitely NOT!”

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to shout. I’m not one mile away from you, you know.”

“It’s not call shouting. It’s called talking just a tad louder.”

“Whatever you called it.” Christian nicked another few slices of the fried potatoes.

 

~~~

 

“Mom!” he shouted as his mother fell backward after receiving the blow from his father that was meant for him. He rushed forward and caught his mother before she hit the floor. “Mom… are you alri-”

His mother’s right hand reached up and caressed her son’s cheek, running a finger along his cheekbone; wiping away his tear with her thumb. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

But he knew that she’s not. She might looked fine on the outside but in the inside, she’s dying slowly. Her husband didn’t care about her anymore; he beat her and her son—there seemed to be no more reasons for her to carry on with her life. Then again, her son knew that she’d stay strong to protect her son from that demon.

Her son… her most priced treasure. She just didn’t understand why his father drank so much! It’s getting worse as the days go by. Her son’s talented and dedicated; loving and caring; everything that any parent could’ve wished for. She couldn’t understand why her husband just can’t see eye to eye with the rest of his family and stopped drinking. However, she also knew that even if her husband manages to stop drinking, she’s sure that he’ll still carry on with the beatings anyway. The best way is to send him to the rehabilitation. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She loved him… used to love him. She couldn’t recognise him now; he’s just like a demon that’d just been released from Hell.

‘What would he do if I didn’t bring my baby away from him?’ she wondered.