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The frigid water soaked through his jeans as he fearfully squirmed in the car seat. Reaching for the already submersed door handle, he pulled with all the strength he had in him. It wasn't enough. The stubborn passenger door just wouldn't open. The foreboding water slowly crept closer to his chest. More than half of his trembling body hid beneath the icy water. He furiously pounded his wet hands against the window. Fear rose in his throat when he realized nothing was happening--nothing was opening to lead to his escape. Nothing. A million thoughts rushed through his wild mind as he ran his fingers helplessly through his soaking wet blond spikes of hair. He could hear his own gasps of terror and he could hear his frenzied heart repeatedly strike his numb chest. Frantically searching his surroundings with craven blue eyes, he couldn't find a single thing to use to hurl at the window. The darkness of the night sky blackened the water, while the thin beams of moonlight slid across the surface, bouncing and gliding with the waves filling the sinking car.

He could see no one. No one was there with him. Thinking of Claire, he thanked God for one thing. She wasn't in the trouble he was, and all he could feel was extreme gratefulness because of it. Sometime ago the water had stopped its threatening frigid effect. It was no longer cold and he figured it was because his immersed body had gone numb. He was in a race against time and it pushed his adrenaline to exceeding limits. For the first time the mind-blowing notion struck him like bricks. He might not get out in time. As the water began to quickly flow over his mouth, he spat it out and began yelling for help; he knew it was his last resort and he also knew it was impossible for anyone to hear him. Gawd. I'm going to die. The thought shot through his soul like a bullet ripping his skin apart. He threw his shoulder against the door, and he kicked so hard he thought he'd rip his leg out of its socket. Now completely under water, he was throwing himself into the door, going crazy. He felt his lungs burn and knew he couldn't hold his breath forever.

Tearing away at the handle, angrily wondering why it wouldn't open, he felt a tug at his shoulder. He ignored it, but it came again. This time more force spread as something pulled at him from behind. He jerked himself away from it and continued his struggle with the door, trying to see the handle that sat merely a foot in front of his face through the murky water. A moment later, the tug had turned into a full throttle shove. Instead of being pulled from behind, he was harshly propelled forward.

Slam!

He felt his head collide with the car window. A cloudy voice forced his eyes open. When he did, he was face to face with a floor of dry, beige carpet; no water; no jammed car door handle. The voice came again. Although still distant, it was more understandable to him.

"Kyle! Kyle, wake up, man."

Kyle Cook's heavy eyes started to focus properly and his mind began to comprehend what had happened. Picking his face up off of the floor, he propped himself up with his arms so he was on all fours. He heard his rapid, heavy breathing and immediately told himself to calm down. Tilting his head up higher, he saw his bandmate, Paul Doucette, hovering above him. Paul gawked at him with his always-curious blue eyes. "Damn! That must have been one hell of a nightmare!"

"What?" Kyle croaked as he let his head hang down, staring back at the carpet.

"You were thrashing everywhere, and it took forever for me to wake you up," Paul explained as he sipped the can of soda he held loosely in his hand. "I just walked inside and found you here on the couch, calling out something. Couldn't understand it."

"And so you felt it was the perfect opportunity to hurl me to the floor, huh?"

"Well, you wouldn't wake up," he laughed. "I thought it would be better than letting you keep hollering like that. That would've really annoyed the hell out of me!"

"Yeah, I guess," he sleepily mumbled, not wanting to talk about it. He crawled back onto the couch of the matchbox twenty tour bus, trying to remember why he hadn't just gone to the bunks to rest. He didn't even remember how he got in the bus. "Where's Claire?" he asked about his girlfriend, his voice still sounding groggy.

Paul plopped down into a nearby seat and set his soda down on the table behind him. "She said she wanted to go for a walk," he informed as he cranked open the window. He couldn't believe how hot it was. The summer's night air provided no more coolness than the inside of the bus did. With a sigh, he began to search the room with his eyes for the remote control to the television.

"A walk where? We're in the middle of a parking lot behind some venue I don't even know the name of. And it's almost one o'clock in the morning!"

"Hey, Kyle, calm down, man. That's what I thought too. So I asked her if she wanted me to come along, but she told me she'd just like to be alone for a while. I didn't push it."

"So you let her go alone?"

"She's a big girl, ya know. She's an adult, perfectly capable of taking care of herself, Kyle."

"Yeah, I know, I know," Kyle agreed with a frown. "Do you think she's been kinda distant lately?"

Paul glanced at his friend briefly, then resumed his search for the controls. "No, man. At least not with me." He didn't even take him seriously. "Stop worrying."

"It seems like she's been avoiding me all week. Maybe I'm just being paranoid…. Where's everyone else?" he yawned.

"Rob's still signing autographs. Adam and Brian are talking with Dean. At least they were when I left. They should be done soon. There were only a couple of fans left and they all wanted the 'sexiest man alive, Mr. Rob Thomas.' And you *are* being paranoid. Claire's not avoiding you; if anything, she might be pissed because of your failure to propose to her. Are you ever going to ask her to marry you?"

"Of course I'm going to ask her to marry me. I even have the ring. It's just that where am I going to ask her, right here in the bus?"

"You wanna wait till the tour is over?"

"Yeah, there's only a month left and don't you think that if I ask her to marry me when we're at home, it'll mean more? I mean, if I do it now, it almost feels like I'm making her live with all these conditions because of what we do for a living. I want her know that she's first in my life."

"Yeah, I understand. I guess I'd wait and get through all this stuff first too," Paul mumbled as he hung over the side of the chair, fingering the floor beneath him. "Where are the damn controls?"

"Check over there on the counter." Kyle gestured lazily, pointing Paul in the right direction. "No one else knows about the ring or anything yet. You promise you won't mention a thing to Claire?"

"Yeah, whatever…. Oh, yeah!" he cheered as he gripped the controls happily. Carrying his newfound treasure back to his seat, he caught sight of the approaching figure through the window. "Claire's back," he stated as he flipped the television on.

"Thank gawd." He stood up and walked to the bus door to find Claire walking up the steps. "Hey, there," he smiled.

"Oh, hi, honey," she greeted dispassionately. As she took on another step, and raised to the tip of her toes, she quickly pecked his bottom lip and nudged casually by him to get inside.

Kyle wiped the frown off his face, which was put there by Claire's icy mood, and stepped back inside. "Where'd you go?"

"For a walk. You fell asleep and since you haven't been sleeping too well, I thought I'd leave you alone for awhile." She ran her fingers through her mass of blond curls nervously, and looked away from his piercing blue eyes.

"Look. Is something bothering you?" Kyle asked, concern shading his tired face. Paul shot him a look from in his seat behind Claire's back; as if warning him to keep his mouth shut and not start anything unnecessary and completely avoidable.

"What? Why would you think that? I think I'm just really tired. I'm going to head to bed, all right?"

"Oh, sure, sweetie. I'll be in there in a bit."

Claire nodded her head slightly, quietly said good night to him and Paul, and made her way back to the bunks.

"You're worrying," Paul hinted when he was sure she had disappeared. His eyes didn't stir from the dull glow of the screen.

"Yeah, but something's wrong with her. She's not talking with me."

"She wants to be alone for awhile. So? Damn it, Kyle! Quit dragging this thing on and on. You think too much and you're making me miss this," he whined, pointing furiously at the television.

Kyle sighed, knowing what Paul said was partially true, but there was that gut instinct that itched inside of him. He had known Claire for almost three years and he definitely knew her. The usually sweet and open, gorgeous young woman seemed distant and upset. Sadness danced almost unnoticed in her sapphire eyes. Forcing himself to stop analyzing her actions over and over, he commanded himself to stop "thinking so much" as Paul put it. He suppressed the urge to join her in bed for awhile, deciding to wait until she had fallen asleep. Stretching himself out on the comfortable, blue couch and resting his head against the arm of it, he let his eyes drift to the flickering television. Within only a few short minutes, his eyes began to grow heavy and soon, he fell victim to another foreshadowing nightmare.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Claire furiously ran the brush through her blond, shoulder-length curls as she eyed her image in the bathroom mirror. Where was all this anger coming from? It just seemed to exude from a bottomless pit hidden inside. During the last few weeks if she wasn't feeling upset she would feel extremely sad; she had no idea the cause of either emotion. She had never felt this way before, at least not without reason.

A large pothole sent the bus into a heavy jolt, and Claire quickly clutched at the wall to prevent herself from tumbling to the floor. She watched her make-up bag topple off the counter, spewing out all of its contents, causing an irritated groan from the corner of her lips.

"Let me help," Adam said from behind her, where the door had accidentally popped open.

"We should really get that fixed," she mentioned, gesturing up at the lock.

Adam grinned as he pushed himself into the tiny bathroom and knelt down beside her. He began to gather up the clutter of pastel eye shadows, mascara, and lotion, shoving them gently back into her small silver bag silently.

Claire glanced at him as she reached under the counter to retrieve her lip-gloss, which had rolled away from her. She immediately noticed Adam's unusually quiet mood. His mouth was almost always going a mile a minute, even in the morning. She loved that about him. She always figured he thought about everything; he had something to say about it all, and always in good nature. She smiled at him. "Thanks, Adam…. Anything bugging you?"

As if she had pulled him out of a trance, he looked up at her suddenly. He blinked his eyes, like he was trying to figure it out himself. Was something bothering him? "Just thinking."

"Oh really? You usually do even your thinking out loud," she joked.

He laughed. "I don't know. It's just a weird feeling I have. Like I'm supposed to be worried about something. It's strange. Maybe I just need to hear Grace's voice. I haven't talked to her in a week or so." He sighed as he pictured his girlfriend, back home in Orlando. Gawd, how he wished she could've come on tour with them.

Claire nodded her head. "Yeah, I've been feeling kind of strange lately too … maybe it's the water,"

Adam grinned at her again as he got to his feet and then helped her up. She zipped up her bag and put it away again in the cabinet. "Do you know what time we're supposed to get into San Jose?"

"Umm, let's see. If it's eight-thirty now…. I think Frank said we should be there before ten," he said as he gestured toward the front of the bus, where the driver was. "I'm going to find some breakfast. I'll let you know if I find anything edible."

She followed him out of the bathroom and when he stopped in the tiny kitchen area, she proceeded into the makeshift living room. Kyle was still asleep on the couch-a sight she was glad to see. He hadn't been getting much rest at all in the past few weeks. It was beginning to worry her. With a smile, she sauntered over to him. He was lying on his stomach, his left arm hanging off the couch and resting on the carpet. Touching his bare back, she felt her hand travel up and down in rhythm with his steady breathing. She remembered the way she had acted last night, wanting him to just leave her alone. And she remembered the look of concern on his face, and then the look of hurt, even though he tried to hide it. Kyle's eyes, slowly at first, fluttered open. Claire, who was now kneeling on the ground beside him, gazed into them.

"Hi," he muttered groggily.

"Morning, honey," she said quietly.

"Morning," he replied as he situated himself until he was now resting on his back. He ran a hand though his blond hair, which was disheveled from sleep.

"Guess you never made it to the bed, huh?" She smiled as she watched him. She knew she could just stare at him for eternity and never want to look away. He rubbed his eyes, still trying to wake up.

"So did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Sort of. I kept waking up, though. Every half-hour or so, and then it took forever to get back to sleep. I was going to come to bed, but I didn't want to get you up. I just couldn't lay still…. How about you? Are you feeling better? You've seemed to be kind of … well, irritated the last few days. You haven't been talking much."

"I-I know, and I'm sorry, Kyle. It had nothing to do with you. I just felt really bad, and I have no idea why." She smiled at him. "It's gone now, though. I feel better," she lied.

Kyle tilted his head more to her; he was still leaning on the armrest. With his eyes, he made what he hoped to be an unnoticed inspection of her expression, trying to find out if she was serious. He watched her scoot closer to him. He closed his eyes when she moved in and kissed him. She then stood up and silently began to walk away, but he clasped her wrist before she went too far. "Hey, Claire," he whispered, "I love you, ya know."

Claire nodded her head and grinned widely. "Yeah, I know. And I also know that I love you too."

Kyle smiled from ear to ear as he watched her walk over to Adam and Rob. He sat up and stretched his long arms above his head with a yawn, still extremely tired. It had been about three weeks since he had had a decent night's sleep, and it was beginning to affect him. He was used to getting very little shut-eye; the years of touring provided experience for that. But he was always able to make up for the lack of rest. On their plane rides or road trips, he would be able to sleep right through them. Not now, though. Now, if he actually managed to fall asleep, he would only be ripped from it with those weird nightmares. He shook the thoughts away as he stood up. A sudden dizzy spell overcame him and he fell back onto the couch before he could hit the floor.

Rob, who had seen it out of the corner of his eye, looked over at him. "Kyle, man, are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just fine," he answered back, privately trying to regain his bearings. He gripped the edge of the couch and clamped his eyes shut, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

Rob eyed him suspiciously before turning back to his conversation with Adam. His mind drifted back to thoughts of the sudden meeting called together when they got to San Jose later that day. Dean hadn't sounded too thrilled when he informed them of it, and when Rob asked what it was for, he told him that it would all be addressed in the meeting, not before then. There was something wrong and he knew it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Sorry, sorry. Shit, I'm sorry," Kyle mumbled to the others as he stared down at his guitar.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You've hit more wrong chords today than I've seen you do your entire life," Brian exaggerated with a laugh as Kyle kicked at the ground.

"He's allowed a bad day. Lord knows you've had your share," Adam joked. Brain punched his arm playfully but hard enough to push him from his position.

Claire observed the five men from her seat several feet from the stage. Their faces had changed somehow. It was as if the fun had been sucked right out of them. They still laughed, but it was different. It almost seemed as if they were trying to convince themselves of something. She'd noticed it over the past couple months, but staring at them now, it had finally hit her. They just ran through the motions. She knew they still loved their job and their life and all, but something stood in the way now-an obstacle they weren't looking forward to facing. The problem was, it seemed that they all had a different obstacle to stand up to, and all of them were being their stubborn selves, trying hard as hell to hide it from the others. She silently resolved to figure it all out before the end of the tour.

"Guys. Hey, guys. Listen for a second," came Matt's voice. Rob turned to face their manager. Adam took a seat on a nearby step and began to fiddle with his guitar. Paul stepped out from his drums and joined Brian, who was sitting at the edge of the stage. Kyle sat down right in the spot he was standing in, frustrated with himself. He stared at his hands as if they had betrayed him; he noticed they were trembling slightly. He began feeling for a pack of cigarettes but couldn't find anything. "Damnit," he muttered under his breath before Matt opened his mouth to speak.

"Okay. I see you're not having too great of an afternoon, Kyle," he began.

Kyle brought his head up and looked at him with tired eyes that stung. "No shit."

Matt laughed. He knew Kyle was only upset with himself right now. He always got so frustrated with himself if he didn't do everything perfectly. "Why don't we call it quits for today? You know we still have that meeting this evening. So everyone, we'll have dinner at seven and then the meeting, got it?"

Rob snorted. "Yeah, we got it. Just wish we got what this is all about."

Matt only smiled. It was a forced smile and they all knew it. His face was tight. Before turning away and walking out, he said, "And Kyle, why don't you get some rest or something. I can make sure no one disturbs you in the bus, all right? I'm sure if you just get some sleep, you'll be as good as new…. You look like shit now."

Kyle laughed and nodded his head. Matt was always the nurturing type to them, and yet, he still got his jabs in there like a brother would. He slipped his instrument over his head while Claire walked over to him. "I agree with him, you know."

"Wha? That I look like shit?" he smirked.

"Nah. Just that you really need the rest. Come on. I'll lay down with you."

I'll never get any rest that way," he smiled slyly, and she slapped at his arm gently before leaning down and kissing him.

Paul walked over, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "Do you have any ideas on what this damn meeting's about?"

"I've got no clue, Paul. I mean, they always tell us what these things are about," Kyle yawned. He looked up at him from the ground. "You know … I noticed you haven't smiled a whole lot lately. Something up?"

Paul shook his head of red spikes as he brought the cigarette to his mouth again. "Well, I'll see you two later tonight then. Get some rest, buddy … bye Claire, hun," he said as he kissed her cheek before walking off.

Kyle rubbed his eyes. He thought to himself, If one more person tells me that…. It wasn't like he was depriving himself of sleep on purpose. Another thing was starting to bug him. The others all seemed tense about the meeting. Yeah, it was kind of odd that they were keeping them in the dark about the whole thing, but he hadn't thought all that much of it. But then again, he never did think much about all the financial and political things of this job. He pushed everything to the back of his mind as he took Claire's hand. He concentrated on one thing; he had only a few hours to get some sleep before they had to meet up again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Brian stared silently at the photographs he held limply in his hands, which were resting on the circular table. Dean had quietly handed them to him in a large yellow envelope while the others had all started talking at once.

"But we've had threats before. Everybody who's anybody has," Rob insisted while eyeing both Dean and Matt. The concern in his voice was evident.

"Someone's probably just screwing around with us. You guys look so serious. This has happened before," Adam added, not so sure he believed his own words. Paul was trying to say something to Rob, while Rob was still talking to Matt across the large table. Adam kept pressing Dean for more information and Dean was trying to get his voice heard as he attempted to tell Brian something. Everybody was talking but no one was really listening. Kyle's bloodshot eyes tried focusing fully as he watched the scene. It wasn't a very big room. The big wooden, circular table in the center and a small corner desk were the only things to occupy the space. The light bulb hanging from the ceiling lit up the table with an annoying brightness but thinned out toward the shadowy corners. There were no windows. All five bandmembers sat at the table along with Dean and Matt. Claire had taken a seat in the corner, silently observing the scene. Two security guards sat just outside the door.

Adam again asked why such a big deal was being made about this one particular person sending a few suspicious letters. "Because of these," Brian finally said, slowly and loudly. He annunciated every word. All the talking ceased as every set of eyes in that room focused solely on him.

"What?" Kyle asked.

Brian slid the pile of pictures over to him. Kyle stared at Brian another second before slowly looking down at them. Claire stepped up-- unnoticed --behind him. As soon as he laid eyes on them, he felt his stomach churn. The top picture was a close-up of Rob and Kyle sitting on the steps behind a venue, smoking a cigarette and talking. He removed it from the top of the pile. Another one was of Adam standing on stage during a sound check, a guitar in his hands. There was one of Paul stepping into the tour bus. Picture after picture, each one featured at least one of the five bandmembers.

"This person has been sending pictures of you guys from several different locations," Matt began. Paul had slid into the chair next to Kyle and was looking over his shoulder at the photographs. When Kyle came across a photo of him and Claire sitting down at a restaurant alone, his whole body shook. He shoved it to the bottom of the pile as quickly as he could, not wanting her to come over and see it.

"Oh my gawd," Claire uttered as she saw it too.

"Whoa, shit!" Kyle spun around. "When did you get behind me?"

She didn't answer but looked helplessly into his eyes. He shuddered. It was that same helpless that had always ripped at his heart.

"That's why we're so interested in this specific threat. This person has been able to find access to these pictures. They've probably taken them themselves," Matt said, trying to sound professional.

"And that's why we've seen all the extra security everywhere?"

Matt nodded his head.

"One of them followed me into the fucking bathroom!" Paul stated. "I thought that was kind of strange."

"We're just being cautious. Up until now, there haven't been any definite threats, so we didn't want to worry you by mentioning any of this."

"So … that means that there is a threat now?" Brian asked.

"Sort of. With the last set of pictures, there was a slip of paper with "Soon." written in succession over twenty times on it. That's it," Matt informed them.

"Man that sounds pretty twisted if you ask me," Adam said.

"I still think it's just some fuck messing with us," Rob mumbled as he took the photos from Kyle and began to sift through him quickly.

"We're not so sure, Rob. We're going to keep the added security for the rest of the tour, of course. We talked to the people you guys signed the touring contract for. They felt it's not serious enough to cancel any concert dates, and besides, you only have three and a half weeks left before this whole thing's over with," Matt explained calmly. "What we need you guys to do is never go off on your own without one of the guards somewhere close. Everything should be completely under control."

"What is this? Some damn buddy system like third-graders have? Do we have to hold hands?" Paul asked, laughing only slightly.

"Like we've already established, we're taking extreme precautions. That is all," Dean re-clarified. "We have a concert to get ready for tomorrow, so we all should get some sleep. Your hotel rooms are already booked."

"I have some other business to take care of back in Atlanta, guys. I'll see you in a couple weeks, though." Matt was the first to stand from the table. He collected his papers and began to head towards the door.

"All right, Matt," Adam spoke wearily. "Hey, man. Thanks for what you're doing, but don't worry, okay?"

Matt smiled before saying goodbye to the others and finally exiting the tiny yet overbearing room. Dean was the next to leave, followed by Brian, who lit his cigarette before departing and gave his confident smile. He wanted to show that there wasn't anything to get all worked up about, and that's exactly the point he got across to them with his silent gesture.

The others just sat there a few moments, alone and silent. The dull buzz of the light bulb became unnoticed and soon faded into silence. Finally Kyle spoke.

"Claire, you're going back home tomorrow," he said simply and quietly. Claire shot up from her seat beside him.

"What in the hell? You can't just send me off like that…. We don't even have a 'home' for me to go back to, in case you haven't noticed."

"You'll stay with my mom," he replied in the same tone.

"Kyle! You can't tell me where to go or what I have to do. You're not my keeper and you sure as hell aren't in charge of me!"

His mind was made up. He was hardly in a mood to argue with her, and it showed; his face was like stone and he looked totally exhausted. "Just stop arguing with me. I don't want you here with all that's going on. It's safer back in Orlando with my mom."

"I won't. I won't, Kyle" she told him, her voice shaky and tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "I won't just leave you." She didn't want to be away from him for an entire month. She didn't want to have to worry about him and the guys possibly being in danger. She didn't want to be told what do to and she didn't want to be alone. All this anger and fear and hurt stirred in her chest suddenly, coming out of nowhere.

Rob, Paul, and Adam, who had been watching the scene hadn't said a word. Paul spoke up, though, when he saw Claire was on the verge of crying.

"Kyle, she doesn't wanna leave. Maybe it would be better if she stayed with us. We have all the security right here, not in Orlando," he explained meekly. He did not, in any way, want to sound as if he was telling Kyle what to do. That wasn't what he was doing. He was merely suggesting an alternative, because it was clear that Claire didn't want to leave. Kyle looked up from the table and glared at him, but he didn't utter a word. Rob elbowed Paul, silently trying to force him to keep his mouth shut. Paul was only trying to help, but it wasn't his place, even though after almost three years Claire was like a sister to all of them.

"Look at me…. Look at me, Kyle … please!" she beseeched him in an unsteady whisper, but she didn't get even so much as a glance in her direction from him. She watched his eyes close and she listened to the sigh that he let out of his mouth, and she knew. She knew he wasn't changing his mind. Deep down, she understood fully that Kyle was doing this because he was afraid of what might happen to her. He was doing it because he cared so deeply for her, and in the most intimate part of her heart, she recognized that what he was doing only showed his true love for her. That purely made it hurt more, though. She felt so angry with him, in spite of the fact that she realized it was just as hard for him to tell her to go home. Glaring at him for a few seconds, she wished he would look at her, if only to see the look of hurt and anger on her face. But he didn't - he wouldn't. "Damn it, Kyle. Why do you have to be like this?!" she shouted.

He didn't so much as flinch. He only continued to stare down at the table, pretending she wasn't there. It killed him inside and he hated himself for making her feel this way, but he was too frightened. He couldn't bear to have anything happen to her. He just wished she'd understand that.

"You want me to go? Then fine. I'm leaving," she finally said as coldly as she could before heading towards the door.

Kyle slid out of his seat and caught her by the shoulder. "Don't go out there by yourself," he muttered in a voice barely audible.

"Well, I'm certainly not going out there with you!" she spat as she ripped herself from his grasp and opened the door to leave. Kyle watched her storm down the hallway.

"Hey, Kyle, I'll follow her out to the limo, all right?" Rob suggested as he patted his shoulder and made his way down the same dark hall that Claire had just went through. Kyle nodded and called out a thank you to him before turning back to the other two men that still inhabited the room.

"You didn't have to treat her like shit, Kyle," Paul told him as he too walked out and down the hall. Kyle sighed heavily and tried to keep the helpless look off his face. Adam ambled over to him slowly.

"If you don't agree with how I handled this, I really don't want to hear it, okay, Adam?" he mumbled as he covered his face with his hands.

Adam dragged him into a fraternal hug before uttering a single word. Although Kyle didn't say anything, he nodded his thanks at his friend's gesture, and then pulled away from it.

"I understand why you did what you did, bro. I wish you would've tried to be a little more compassionate with her, but I know it was hard enough getting her to agree to go home…. Do you think Grace could stay with Claire and your mom until we get back? I mean, I just don't want her home all alone in our apartment, especially after knowing about all this stalker crap."

Kyle smiled slightly. "Sure, man. I'll call her tonight when we get to the hotel to let her know what's going on…. I wish she didn't have to know, though."

"Yeah, I know. But we're doing this all just to be careful. Hey, I think we're all exaggerating the situation too much. So we should just take all the precautions and not worry about it, right?"

"Right," Kyle agreed tiredly. "We'd better get out to the limo. They're waiting on us to head over to the hotel."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"What time do I have to be at the airport tomorrow?" Claire asked from her position in front of the bed. They were the first words she had spoken since she had stormed out of the room earlier that night. She continued to shuffle the objects around in her suitcase in order for them to fit better inside. Everything was basically already packed since they had gotten to the hotel that same night.

Kyle shifted his body from the miniature hotel desk against the wall so that he was facing her. She was still a good three yards away and she still wasn't looking at him, so he knew her mood had not changed. "Two-thirty. My mom's going to meet you at the airport in Orlando…."

Claire continued her packing and when she didn't answer, he stood from the chair and sauntered over to her. He wrapped his arms around hers, but she gently pushed him away. "Kyle, don't. I need to finish this packing. I'm tired. I just want to go to bed."

He hesitated, but stepped back, allowing her to finish. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he uttered calmly, expertly hiding the hurt he felt. "This is the last night we're going to be spending together for a while. I don't want you to be mad at me."

"Well, that's really not my fault."

"You know I don't want you to go," he explained, hanging his head. She didn't answer.

"Yeah, I know that. And you know that I don't want to go either. And yet, here I am packing my suitcase and here I am, getting on a plane tomorrow afternoon … without you. All because you told me to."

"Claire, it's only going to be a month," he stated.

"I'm glad you can handle that. It's just that yesterday the plan was that we were going to be together for this next month. Now, in just a couple hours time, we're not. You're only thinking of yourself because by making me go home, you only make me worry about you even more!"

Kyle let out an exasperated sigh. Circles. That was what they were doing--just running around in circles. No matter what he said, she'd still be upset, because she didn't want to leave.

"You know you can't force me onto that plane tomorrow, right?"

"Damnit, Claire! I'm just worried. I'm fucking worried, all right? Yeah, I know I can't force you to do anything. And I guess I should've known that you aren't planning to get on the plane tomorrow…. Maybe I was wrong for telling you that you had to go home. But I know that I wasn't wrong for being scared. That's like my greatest fear, Claire! I could never lose you."

"Kyle," she began.

"No. I really don't want to talk right now. I'm going to take a walk," he mumbled as he grasped his blue tee shirt and slid it over his head. He ran a hand through his tousled blond spikes and looked around for the hotel key.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk, I told you. I'll be back in a while. Make sure you keep the door locked, all right?"

She nodded her head hesitantly. He walked towards the door, Claire following him. "Kyle?"

"What?" he asked wearily.

"I love you," she said quietly. She was now feeling somewhat sorry for being so cross with him earlier. In his mind, having her go home was the only thing to do. He turned around and smiled dazzlingly at her. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and whispered, "I know."

"Hurry back, okay? I really want to talk about some things…."

"Yeah, I'll be back soon. Promise."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Concert tomorrow. Concert Friday. Flight to Seattle on Saturday. Sunday … Sunday…. What's Sunday? … Ahh, fuck it. Rob lit the cigarette that was waiting in his hand as he dismissed any and all thoughts. He tried, but he could never keep track of their schedule. And, gawd, did he try. He began to walk. The sky was clear that night; it was clearer than he had seen it in a while anyway. Staring up at the stars as he strolled away from the hotel, he smoked his cigarette and he smiled. He wasn't happy, though. He smiled almost just to laugh at himself. He had been thinking about Annabelle again. Lately, he had been remembering her a lot, and he wasn't sure why. She was just another 'fling' that ended over a year ago. He surely didn't think it was anything special then, and he wasn't sure if he thought it was anything special now. But just thinking of her stirred up something warm in his chest. Maybe that's what made him feel so torn. He knew he wouldn't ever see her again. Maybe he did want to see her again … badly.

Rob kicked at a rock and listened to it rattle off into the street as he continued down the sidewalk. So many people had told him that they could get lost in his eyes so easily. He never fully understood what that meant, until he stared into Anabelle's almond green eyes. Yes, he decided to himself, he really did passionately like Anabelle. And even though he confirmed in his head that they would never meet, they would. They would find each other, and they would find each other in the middle of her turmoil. Anabelle would turn out to be the love of his life, even though he didn't know it yet. Unfortunately, so many obstacles would stand in their way, it would make it nearly impossible to reunite. But that is another story.


He kicked another, much larger rock out of his path. It skidded off the sidewalk and into a darkened alley. It rolled and ran straight into a lump, and then the lump groaned. Rob winced, figuring he had woken up some homeless guy. "Sorry," he told him, debating over whether or not to wake him up further to offer him some money. But when he reached for his wallet, he realized he had left it in his hotel room three blocks back. The man groaned again, as if beckoning Rob over to him. Somewhat wary, he stepped closer and out of the orange streetlight. "What do you want?" he asked, dropping his cigarette.

"Rob?!" the crumpled figure mumbled, both surprised and disoriented.

Rob's breath was cut short when he spoke. That voice. He dropped to his knees beside him, wild thoughts surging. Tilting the young man's head towards him, his sudden fears were confirmed. It was Kyle. "Oh, shit! What happened, Kyle?! What are you doing here?"

With Rob's help, he managed to sit up. He tried to speak. "Some-Someone came up behind me when I was walking," he croaked. His voice was scratchy and somewhat muffled. Rob looked him over. A bloody nose, a few cuts and a swollen jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay enough to get back to the hotel. Help me up."

"I think I should get you to a hospital, man."

"Just get me to Claire," he choked out as he got to his feet, his arm leaning on Rob's broad shoulders for support. His head ached, he was somewhat dizzy, and he was extremely tired, but other than that, he didn't think anything was seriously wrong. He didn't need a hospital. He pictured himself laying in Claire's arms, comfortable in bed. That's all he wanted. Claire.

Rob eyed him doubtfully. The two started on their way back to the hotel. Kyle grumbled less than courteous words under his breath, and they had to stop every so many yards for him to catch his breath. Rob had one thought cycling around his head. Kyle had the same thought. And they both knew they were both thinking it. That stalker thing might be a legitimate threat. Maybe they really did have a problem.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"So you'll be over at Kyle's mom's tomorrow afternoon, right?" Adam asked absent-mindedly into the phone as he twirled a pencil between his fingers. He listened to his girlfriend's mollifying voice and smiled at the thought of her. Wild cherry lip balm and orange blossom perfume. He remembered the scent and smiled alone in the disturbingly silent hotel room. "Okay, sweetie. And like I said before. Please don't worry about this … yeah, it's fine, Grace… I'll talk to you soon. And just remember … it's only a month more, all right? … … Ok, good night, hun. Love you. Bye…." Hanging the phone up, he shook his head, causing the tight black curls on his head to bounce slightly. Before his mind could float off any further into thoughts of Grace, there was a hurried knock at the door. He glanced over to the clock; it was two-thirty in the morning. If it's Paul looking for a room with working cable again, I will shoot him, he promised himself as he stepped over to the door. He opened it slightly and stuck his head out through the crack, prepared to slam it shut if Paul was waiting there.

But it was Claire who stood there, her head turned as if searching for something down the hallway. She looked back at him with wide eyes and scattered blond curls; although, disheveled, her hair still fell beautifully around her face. "What's wrong?" Adam asked immediately after only a second's view of her.

"Kyle," she managed, only a notch above a whisper. "He's not back yet and it's been over an hour."

"Where did he say he was going?"

"For a walk. He said he'd be back soon." She felt tears forming from the fear of her racing thoughts as she heard the words she was speaking. She was getting ahead of herself as the images of the meeting and the 'stalker' situation and Kyle all intertwined, forming a not-so-good scenario.

"Just calm down, Claire. Let's go down to the lobby and start from there." He grasped her hand as he shut his door and led her down the short distance to the elevator.

"We were arguing about me going home, and I knew he was upset. I told him I wasn't leaving … and then he wanted to go for a walk. Gawd, this isn't supposed to be happening; especially not now," Claire rambled quietly, more to herself than to Adam as the two stood motionless in the elevator. Adam remained silent but gripped her hand tighter.

"You know how spacey he gets sometime, sweetie. He probably just lost track of time." Adam looked over to her and hoped she'd believe him, but she only stared back with uncertainty. They stepped off the elevator and made their way to the lobby. There was no person at the check-in counter, for it was two-thirty in the morning.

"Where do we start?" she asked as she strayed away from Adam and made her way to the very center of the heavily air-conditioned lounge area. She didn't notice how cold it was or that there were goosebumps forming along her forearms. Two gigantic purple couches sat in the corner of the spacious lobby, several yards away from her. She heard her brown, strapped sandals clicking against the tiled floor as she slowly spun around to view the wide open space, wondering where to turn to next; the whole room felt like it was watching her - like it was against her. She didn't stop to check herself. She didn't care if she was overreacting. Surely, Kyle was worth any amount of overreaction; he was her world.

Adam rang the bell at the front counter, hoping that someone would come up and help. Maybe one of them had seen Kyle, he hoped. One. Two. Three. Four rings within a minute and a half and no one came to the desk. "Damnit," he muttered under his breath as he approached Claire. A swooshing sound made both of them turn their heads. It was the sound of the glass entrance doors opening. The doors were several yards from where Claire and Adam were standing and the light was less than dim, but she knew it was Kyle. She began to run over to him. Adam followed. Sure enough, there was Kyle, making his way through the door, but hardly under his own power. Rob was with him too. He stood right beside him, letting Kyle lean on him for support.