From the prompt: "The enemy is coming..."
"Stealing Maria"
Glitter and glitz and the MTV VMA’s. Lance frowned down at his outfit. How had this sequined outfit seen the light of day beyond the insane designer’s mind? But they were performing that night, and Judith had insisted upon something ‘manageable’. Theresa was probably in her managerial suite screaming at the screen and demanding valium from Nathan. He’d get a sound scolding tomorrow.
“Here comes the enemy,” Joey whispered under his breath, and Chris hummed the Darth Vader theme from StarWars for effect.
“Oh, grow up,” JC insisted, and went to shake Brian Littrell’s hand. Lance’s eyebrows went up when Justin reached out and shook Howie’s hand.
“Nick has a posse,” Joey snickered, and that’s when Lance saw her. Wait, was it her? She was talking to Justin, grinning, and her golden eyes flashed. It was her. She was…Lance’s mind went blank. She was wearing what looked liked and Indian saree of green-gold iridescent silk, a golden headpiece set delicately in her ebony curls. Surely this utterly alive creature wasn’t the same sleepy girl in boy’s clothing curled beside him in some hotel?
“Oh, hi Lance,” she said, and his heart lurched in his chest.
“Hey Lance,” Nick said, throwing a possessive arm around her shoulders. “You and Kali have met before?”
“She’s a friend of JC’s,” Lance answered faintly. Hadn’t her name been Asia? ‘Kali’? Kali was the Hindu goddess of death…
“Really?” Nick’s eyebrows went up.
The girl nodded. “We met through Brian, remember?” She smiled at Lance. “It’s great seeing you again.”
Nick led her away, casting wary glances over his shoulder at Lance.
Chris whistled softly under his breath. “She cleans up good, huh Bass?”
“Whatever happened to Mandy Wilford or Willa Ford or whatever?” Joey asked. “Or is that chick another face in Carter’s bimbo collection?”
JC smacked him in the arm. “She’s, like, Brian’s little sister.”
Joey frowned. “I thought he had an older brother.”
“The operative word was ‘like’.” JC rolled his eyes. “But Brian’s pretty protective of her. She’s on loan to Nick for the night since there’s a moratorium on his public appearances with Mandy as she clashes with the parents.”
Chris shook his head sympathetically at Lance. “Sorry ‘bout Maria, Tony, but you won’t be able to pull one over on Bernardo tonight.”
The rest of the night, through the show, Lance cast longing glances in the direction of the Backstreet camp where ‘Kali’ was sitting next to Nick.
Joey leaned over and whispered, “Look at her, that sweet thing, sitting with an infant.”
Chris snickered. “Hey, don’t make fun of Justin like that.”
“C’mon, Lansten, it’s okay,” Joey said soothingly, a little patronizingly. “You don’t have to go after her, just leave the real men to hit on her…”
Lance glared. “Are you saying I’m not a real man?” And then he twisted around to see Carson Daly leaning over an annoyed Nick to shake her hand. Lance set his jaw determinedly; he’d definitely talk to her at the after-show party. He didn’t notice Joey’s smirk.
The club was flooded with celebrities, most dancing. Chris, Lance and Joey sat at the table in the corner while JC and Justin danced with their girlfriends.
Lance was still gazing at ‘the girl’ longingly. Joey and Chris exchanged significant looks, and Chris slid out of the booth. Joey watched Chris corral young Nick into a corner, and he leaned over to Lance, whispering.
“Hey man, there’s your girl, and Chino’s AWOL.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Your Broadway fetish is so wrong.” But he slid out of the booth and crossed the dance floor, purpose in his stride.
“Hey Kali, or is it Asia?”
She whirled around. “Oh, hey. Kali’s just Brian’s nickname for me.” She smiled. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while. Great performance tonight, too.”
“Thanks,” Lance answered, blushing. “So, uh, how do you know the guys?”
“Brian and I are friends from way back,” she answered vaguely, shrugging. “He and Josh share writing tips, apparently.”
Lance wiped his clammy palms on the leg of his jeans. “Um, you wanna dance?”
Asia smiled brightly. “Sure.” She grabbed his wrist and led him over to the middle of the floor, slipping into his arms.
Lance held her carefully, as if she were a glass doll.
A glass doll? Who was he kidding? Her nickname was Kali… With a grin, he dipped her and spun her around, moving to the beat of the music.
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© Agent Duo 2004