Author's Note: Ok, the guys in the chat are making me post this... if
you think it sucks, go yell at them... if you think it's good... e-mail
By the way: Hi, I'm Willow.
Well- one thing was different, but Chris didn't really pay any attention to it. He'd upped to four pills a day somewhere along the line. He wouldn't have, except that he'd become a bit of an insomniac and the pills made it easier to stay awake after a night of restless tossing and turning. Chris actually was a bit proud; he just kept on finding new uses for them.
Like now. Chris rolled over and stared at the clock, watching as the numbers changed. Any moment now-
"Chris?" Justin called through the doorway. "Time to get up dude!"
"Coming Jus," Chris called back. He got out of the bed and stretched once more, and then headed to the bathroom. He did his daily routine and then headed back to grab the bottle. Opening it up, Chris dumped a pill into his outstretched hand.
Something seemed off. For some reason, the bottle was unnaturally light. Chris looked into it and growled in annoyance.
"Oh shit," Chris managed to get out as he tipped the bottle over until the remaining pilled tumbled into his outstretched palm.
Three pills. Four if you counted the one he'd already taken out.
One day's worth of medication. Chris gulped. He needed the pills to get through the day. He needed them to keep the pain away. He needed; he needed-
He needed more.
But how? That was the big question. Chris knew that with his high profile, it wasn't a good idea to just find any random dealer- he wouldn't even know how to go about looked for one. Neither would any of the guys. Besides, Chris didn't want to trust his life to some stranger.
So that really only left him one option, and as much as Chris would have rather ripped his ears off than listen to the smarmy voice of Lou Pearlman.
And yet, he found himself going through an old address book for the number. Chris began to pull on his clothes as he dialed the number.
'The key,' he coached himself, 'is to just say as little as possible. That way he can't talk to you, and he won't drive you insane.'
"Talk to me," the annoying nasal voice answered brusqly.
"Hi," Chris said, all coherent thoughts flying out of his head. Was he seriously about to ask his worst enemy for help?
"Christopher!" Lou exclaimed, his voice a mixture of surprise and something else that Chris couldn't quite decipher.
"Look," Chris said quickly. "Um, we're in-"
"Yes, I know," Lou cut him off. "I keep tabs on my investments."
'Can we say creepy?' Chris thought absently. "Oh," he said aloud. "Well, Um, I'm not really sure how to say this-"
"Oh it's quite easy," Lou said smartly. "All you have to do is say, hey Lou. It's great to hear your lilting voice. Oh and by the way, I'd like some more of your friendly miracle-"
"That's enough," Chris snapped.
"Touchy, touchy," Lou teased, and Chris could hear him smile through the phone.
'God, I would just love to smack that smirk off of his fat face,' Chris thought.
"Anyway, I'll have a new bottle sent up to your room. I have connections everywhere so it shouldn't take too long. Same old pseudonym?
"Um no, actually," Chris hedged. It's, um. It's Mr. Randall now."
"Oh!" Lou responded. "Isn't that... cute? And how are things going with the young Adonis."
"There are no *things* Lou," Chris snapped. "And I would advise you to mind your own damn business."
"Ah but *you* are my business Christopher."
A knock on the door interrupted Chris's reply, and Justin's voice traveled through the door. "Chris- 5 minute warning."
"Okay," Chris called back.
"Well, I see you have things to do so I'll let you go. Check your mailbox tonight when you return from the concert."
Chris knew the call was over, but he wasn't sure how to end it. He certainly didn't want to thank Lou- but it was just awkward to end it like this. His decision was made for him when the dial tone buzzed in his ear.
"Coming Justin," Chris called and grabbed his coat.