Twist of Fate

I want to thank all those who dropped me a note about chapter one. I dig your chili! Thanks for the feedback, and I look forward to more!

This is a story about a growing friendship and budding romance between two young men. If you don't dig that, or if it would be illegal for you to read about it, STOP NOW. (How'd you get this far anyway?)

Communication is my fuel. Write me! kaiser_goof@hotmail.com -Jeff

• • • • • • A Twist of Fate, Chapter 2

"Wait a second, I already have my suitcase," Lance said, glancing over his shoulder and indicating to the bag on the bed with his chin. Peter's eyebrows cocked, and his eyes began to grow as he started to think of the few possible explanations for this situation. Glancing at the luggage tag, his jaw dropped slightly as he said, "I guess you're not 'Billy Wilson' of San Diego, are you..."

"Oh man, I can't believe this! Great, now there's someone out there who is desperately searching for their luggage," Lance contemplated as he stared at the twin luggage before him.

"I can't believe it, either. I'm really sorry, Lance. But I mean, what are the chances that two people would have the same piece of luggage on the same turnstile in the same airport?" Peter asked, immediately realizing that it was a VERY good possibility, and that's why they have all those reminders posted to 'check your nametag'. "I'm sure this is a major bummer for... Billy Wilson," Peter said as he read the nametag again.

"We have to call him. We have to let him know that we have his stuff... you know what? We need to return his suitcase to him. Bring that thing over here," Lance said as he walked towards the phone. "Is there a phone number with his identification?"

"Yeah, let me read it to you." Lance dialed the number and waited, becoming disappointed when he got an answering machine. When he heard the beep, he spoke,

"Um, hi... I'm calling for Billy Wilson. This is going to be a bit hard to explain, but, well, I think there was some mix-up at the airport... well, here it goes. I guess I have your luggage. It works out that you and I have the same type of Samsonite luggage, and someone picking up my bags accidentally picked up yours, too. I'm sooo sorry! I'm really sorry! I can't even imagine how you feel right now. Hey listen, I'd like to get your bag back to you ASAP, and I want to make this whole thing up to you..." Peter was waving his hands to get Lance's attention. "Hold on..." He covered the phone and looked at Peter.

"What?"

"Have him call the hotel and ask for the room when he gets the message." Lance nodded and resumed his message.

"Okay, sorry. My name is Lan..." Lance paused, not really wanting to reveal his identity to a stranger, "...uh, James... When you get this message, could you please call me back at...wait ...hold on..." Lance's eyes got big as he covered the phone with his hand, saying, "What's the number to the hotel?" Peter shrugged as he began to search frantically through his organizer. Lance returned to the phone and said,

"...oh nuts... I'm sorry..." With that, Lance hung up the phone.

"Well, that sure wasn't my finest hour of communication! We never thought how we could get a hold of this guy. Besides, even if he did call the hotel, the desk would never put him through to the room." Peter and Joey both nodded as if what Lance had said was the most profound thing they had ever heard.

"I'm going to call him back and tell him I'll try him again later tonight. He's bound to be home sometime!" With that, Lance dialed the number again and heard that all-too-familiar recording.

"... When you get this message, could you please call me back at...wait ...hold on... oh nuts...I'm sorry..." CLICK.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I yelled. My eyes were filled with disbelief, and my mouth hung open. I couldn't believe that someone had my bag, but even more unbelievable is that the guy with my bag hung up on me without leaving any way to contact him. CRAP! I didn't know how much more of this I could take. Good news, bad news. Good news, bad news. This was killing me. I was so distraught that my arms just collapsed on the table and I buried my face, feeling my eyes sting and begin to well up.

BEEP. I glanced up at the answering machine and discovered I still had one more message. My eyes lit up and my hand darted for the button, pressing play and praying that it only brought good news. I heard that familiar voice once again coming out of my machine, and I smiled.

"You must hate me. I'm sorry for hanging up. That was really rude. It's just that I was talking with the people I'm staying with, and we don't know the number where we are, soooo... How about I call you later tonight, and we can figure out how to get your stuff back to you? Also, I do mean it that I want to make it up to you for this screw up. Again, I'm... James, and I'll try back in a few hours, maybe 9pm or so? Again, I'm really sorry and I'll call you soon. Bye!" I glanced at the clock, and it read 7:30pm. I hadn't missed his call!

I got up and started to do the gig around my bedroom. I was so happy! With all the stuff I had gone through on this trip, it seemed like I would see a happy ending, after all. It's amazing, but I had experienced three distinct emotions in less than thirty seconds. Must be a world record. (For a guy, at least. Haha) Anyway, I was home safe, my luggage was not being used to smuggle drugs somewhere in the world, and the guy that had my bag seemed really nice. Dare I even say, cute? Eh, who am I kidding. I mean, you can't tell anything about people over the phone. But, he did have the slightest Southern accent when he spoke, and his voice had so much concern that he made me feel good just listening to his message. In fact, I liked his voice so much, I decided to listen to the messages again. I rewound the tape, turned up the volume and fell back on my bed with my N'Sync CD playing in one ear and my luggage savior soothing me in the other. Could life get any better?

When the messages were finished, I stretched my long self out on the bed and ripped a tear-jerking yawn. 'Where did that come from?' I wondered as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Feeling icky sticky from flying all day, I decided it was time to freshen up and take a shower. Unlike my sister who had her own private bathroom because 'she was a GIRL', my brother and I had to walk all the way down the hall when I needed to use the facilities. It was a pain to get ready in there because it was a bit tight, so I would frequently be found running half naked down the hall back to my room where my clothes were. Needless to say, this provided the opportunity for some pretty embarrassing situations when my parents would have unexpected company while I was in the shower. Today, however, I worried about nothing, since I had the house to myself. I tugged my jeans off, pulled my T shirt off, and wandered down the hall in my boxers. I could hear "Tearin' Up My Heart" begin on the stereo, so I rushed back and cranked it up so I could hear it in the bathroom, snatching my cordless phone in the same step.

I picked up a tube of toothpaste and began to sing along with Justin, showing off not much more than he does in the video. I turned around and sang to myself over my shoulder, wiggling my butt back and forth. 'Pretty nice', I thought. I turned back around and began to examine myself. I mean, I'm not the poster child for fitness magazine, but I would probably make 16th or 17th string... right after some huge Russian mud wrestler. Haha, just kidding. I ran my hands through my dirty blonde hair at the top of my 5'10" body and straightened it out, noticing that the gel had given up long ago. I usually kept it pretty short and combed/spiked backwards, but today was definitely a 'keep the cap' day. I pulled off my glasses and leaned forward to check out my brown eyes, my light brown eyebrows, and the few freckles I had on my nose. I felt my face, noticing that I still didn't need to shave, since I just did two days ago. I stepped back and noticed that my torso was taking on more of a V shape ever since I got into the softball league at church. My shoulders looked a bit broader, my smooth chest was showing some definition, and my waist... well, maybe we could lay off a Twinkie or two every week. The freshman fifteen had definitely hit me. I didn't have a spare tire or anything, but you sure couldn't wash any clothes on my belly. I ran my hands from my neck down to my waist, brushing past my brown nipples and proceeding to play with my belly button and light happy trail for a few moments before resting them on my hips.

Satisfied with my body, I shucked my boxers and hopped in the shower, singing once again with the music blaring out my stereo. "Ahhhhh... A nice hot shower in my own house," I said out loud as the hot water began to course over my body. I enjoyed a very long shower taking my sweet precious time, fantasizing that SOMEHOW I had been chosen to join N'Sync as a backup singer and was asked to sing, featured with the group.

I imagined myself on stage at a concert, gripping a microphone, standing shoulder to shoulder with Joey, Chris, Justin, JC, and Lance... oh, Lance... and singing my heart out to the screaming fans in the crowd. 'God Must Have Spent' was the next song to be spit out by the randomly playing CD player, and I imagined that we were all sitting in a semi-circle of stools with Justin sitting in the center, about a foot closer to the end of the stage. The music started, the girls screamed, and Justin swooned with that perfect teenie-bopper voice of his.

'Can this be true, tell me can this be real..."

The stools were close enough together that the members of the group could exchange pats on the back or elbow-leans-on-the-shoulder. I would put my elbow on Chris' shoulder, then glance over and smile as I felt Lance place his hand on my shoulder. He would nod, give my shoulder a quick squeeze, and we would continue singing to the crowd. I love this feeling! I love this feeling! I lov...

RIIIIIING! I opened my eyes, only to have shampoo slide in and start to sting. "Oww!" I yelped as I flailed wildly, turning myself around to the showerhead, bumping my head on it and knocking it to the side. It shot perfectly past the shower curtain onto the toilet, soaking the floor. "Oww!" CRAP! RIIIIIING! I blindly reached up to refocus the showerhead, rinsing the shampoo from my eyes. RIIIIIING! "I'm coming, already!" Managing to turn both water knobs off simultaneously to prevent myself from getting frozen or burned, I reached out the curtain for my towel. RIIIIIING! I dried my hand and reached for the phone, hitting the button and saying, "Hello?!?" 'Hi this is Billy. I'm not home right now, but please leave a message after...' CRAP. The machine picked up! With my towel in one hand and phone in the other, I darted down the hall to my room, soaking wet, wearing nothing but a smile, where I finally managed to turn the machine off. "HELLO!?" Now, I couldn't hear a thing because, OF COURSE, the stereo was still blaring loud enough to shake the windows...at the next door neighbor's house. Cranking the volume down to an acceptable level, I repeated myself again, "HELLO!?!!!"

"Wow... wasn't that quite the three ring circus," said the voice on the other end.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was in the shower, then the phone rang, then the machine picked up, then the radio was too loud and... well, you know the rest." I decided to omit the shampoo thing, AND the fact that it was N'Sync I was listening to. The other end chuckled.

"I've had days like that."

"So, um, who is this?" I asked, still trying to get my senses back and not recognizing the voice.

"Okay, I leave two messages on your machine, I am the protector of your luggage, and all I get is 'who is this'? I'm disappointed," came the response in a joking tone.

"OH MY GOSH. It's you! It's James! My mind is still spinning from the shower and all. I'm sorry!" I glanced at the clock, and sure enough, it read 9:02pm. I must have been in the bathroom a LONG time!

"Ha ha. Don't worry about it. It must have been some shower!"

"Yeah, it was," I said, trying and figure out just what he meant by that. I looked down, and realized I was still bare as the day I was born. I proceeded to towel off, then wrap the towel around me and lay back on my bed.

"Anyways, I'm so sorry for the whole mix-up. I'm traveling with a bunch of people, and one person was in charge of picking up the bags. I guess he did too good of a job, since I got two for the price of one!"

"Aw, don't apologize, James. I know mistakes happen. I'm just so glad that my bag is safe. It... IS safe, right?"

"The suitcase? Oh sure, sure. It's doing quite well. Although, I didn't like any of your clothes, so I just tossed those out the window." The voice paused for a moment. "I'm just kidding! Everything is fine, and I haven't even opened it. All I did was read the tag. You've got terrible penmanship, you know?"

"Well, it's not easy to write all your vital information on a tag the size of a stamp, using the back of your hand for support!"

"I hear you on that one." I had been smiling through the whole conversation, but the last few things he said with that voice really made me grin. I never wanted to hang up from this guy. He was so relaxing, so funny, so... close. I had been talking with him for maybe two minutes, and it felt like we had been friends for a long time. I asked him,

"So, why are you in town? You mentioned you were here with friends?"

"Yeah, I'm in... well, I'm in a touring music group. We travel around and do concerts here and there for people."

"Oh, that's cool. I'm really into music myself. I want to go to school and get my degree in music. What instrument do you play?"

"Well, I play... the guitar."

Thinking he was in an orchestra or something, I was satisfied with his answer and we continued talking about school, television, families, friends, hobbies, music, etc. Pretty much anything that came to mind, we talked about. And it wasn't one of those conversations where one person dominated the discussion over the other. We both just yabbered and chattered equally.

"So what kind of music do you like?" he asked.

"Oh, all sorts! Pop, R&B, a little country, classical; funk and disco ROCK! I like to listen to music that I can sing along to. I love to sing, even though the only place I sound good is in the shower."

"I'm sure you sound just fine. Let me ask you something... was that N'Sync playing when you answered the phone?" I hesitated, and finally answered,

"Um, yeah...it's... my... sister's CD, and a lot of the songs are in my range." I cringed as I told a lie to my new acquaintance. The voice paused for a second, and said,

"Oh okay. I like their music, too." He paused again, and continued, "I actually met some of their dancers once. They were touring where I live, and we met in a fast food restaurant. The bus that had the group had already left, but the rest of the gang was still there."

"That's cool! I haven't met a lot of celebrities or famous people in my life."

"Well... what IF you were to meet a celebrity? Like, if you were to bump into someone from... say, N'Sync. What would you say or do?" I was curious about his line of questioning, but I answered,

"Hmmm... I've always hoped that I would treat them like any other person. I mean, people get too freaked out about musicians and actors and athletes and politicians just because they see them on TV or on stage. They're normal just like me, and probably want to be treated normally, too." There was another pause, and then,

"That's great. I hope I'd have the same attitude if I actually met someone famous!" Another pause. "Ohmygosh, look at the time!" I glanced at the clock, and was shocked to find out it was 1:36am. We'd been chatting for over four and a half hours! "Billy, I'm sorry. I totally lost track of time. It's just that we got chatting about everything, and... haha. I just thought of something. The whole reason for me calling was to set up how to get your bag back, and we haven't talked about that at all! Aren't we just the social butterflies?"

"Well, when you find someone you have a lot in common with, you tend to want to hang on to them." I mentally gasped after I said this, not believing I'd let something like that slip.

"Ya know what, Billy? I feel the same way. I have a bunch of friends, but I really felt like I could connect with you tonight." LONG PAUSE. "Twilight Zone stuff here, ya know? Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Are you able to survive without the bag until tomorrow?"

"Sure, I've got extra everything here. So... how can I get my bag back? I guess you're probably busy with your band, so I can come pick it up."

"Bull crap! I got you into this problem, and I'll get you out. I have your address, so I'll find a way to get out to your house tomorrow and drop it off. How does that sound?"

"Um, well, that sounds great, if that's really what you want to do." I was hoping he'd say that, and NOT have gone the easier route of having me pick it up. I was really smiling at the prospect of seeing this guy face to face. I had expected to simply drive to his hotel and pick up my bag from the desk, but now I get to meet him!

"I'm sure we're both pooped, so lets get some sleep, and I can be there around 11-12pm tomorrow morning?"

"That would be great! I'll look forward to meeting you, James. But not as much as I'm looking forward to getting my suitcase back!"

"Oh hardee har. Be nice to me, or I won't be nice to your bag. But seriously, I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, too. And by the way, I am serious about making this whole thing up to you. We can figure something out."

"Sounds good to me. 11-noon it is. I'll see you here."

"Hasta linguini. Happy dreams. G'nite."

"G'nite."

I pressed the 'off' button on my cordless phone and felt a wave of euphoria pass over my body. I had just gotten off the phone with the sweetest guy I'd ever met. The sweetest guy! His voice carried his smile through the phone, and somehow it had popped from the phone and on to my face. Just from talking to him, I could sense that he was kind, confident, intelligent, and he had a great sense of humor. These are all things I strive to find in a friendship, and that are so hard to find all in one person. But this guy, James, seemed to have it all. I wanted so much to talk with him more, to learn more about him, find out what made him tick. BUT, we clearly had to go. If it was possible to get a crush from a phone conversation, you might as well have dropped an anvil on me like in those cartoons because I was CRUSHED.

I looked down and realized I was still wearing my wet towel from the shower. I slowly sat up, hearing joints and knuckles popping all over my body from not moving around much during my phone conversation. I stretched as I dropped the towel to the floor and donned a fresh pair of shorts from my dresser. I walked through the house and turned off all the lights, finishing with my bedroom light and setting my alarm clock for 9am. As I climbed into bed, I tried to picture what James looked like. I quickly realized that it was an impossible task, seeing as I had nothing to reference in formulating my image of him. Therefore, I was satisfied in knowing that whatever he looked like in the morning, he would still be that sweet guy I had met on the phone. With this chaotic day ending in near bliss, I trailed off to sleep.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ.

"Lance! LANCE!! Your alarm is going off," Joey grogily yelled from the other bed. Lance stirred and pulled his bed-head out from under his pillow. He reached up, smacked the snooze button, and promptly buried his face back in the pillow.

"Why is your alarm so early? Our call for the show isn't until 5 o 'clock," Joey mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"I'ph ghaph tph thpa verh bag bahph," Lance drooled. Realizing he had face-planted the pillow, he turned his head and repeated his line so his roommate could understand him. "I'm going to take the bag back."

"Wha huh? Bag? You mean that suitcase? Just have Peter or the hotel van take it! Then you don't have to worry about it."

"Yeah, but I do worry about it. It's my fault, or at least my responsibility, so I want to fix it."

"Well, whatever floats your boat, Scoop. Personally, I'm going to get back to my dream. I think I was in a hot tub with Cameron Diaz. Come here, Cameron baby..." With closed eyes, Lance smiled and also drifted back to sleep.

Not twenty minutes later, the phone began to ring in Lance and Joey's room. Startled once again from their needed slumber, they both jumped, and Joey reached for the phone.

"You better tell me I won a million dollars."

"Good morning, sunshine. Hope you all slept well, because we've got a long day ahead of ourselves. We have our breakfast meeting in 45 minutes so get your sorry butts going!"

"Yes yes, we love you too, Peter. We'll be down soon." Joey hung up the phone, glanced over at Lance, and said, "Why is this fun again? Why do we leave our happy homes and sleep in hotels only to be awoken every day at the butt-crack of dawn to go down and eat cafeteria food and have meetings with people we don't want to have meetings with?"

Lance, who had sat up in the meantime, said, "I was told it was for the babes... BUT I haven't seen any of them, yet. All I'm stuck with is you, and you just lie there and snore."

This comment garnered Lance a pillow smack square in the head, which was promptly compensated right back at Joey. After some pretty serious shots and some considerable rearranging of both body and furniture, the two collapsed on the floor in exhausted giggles. Ahhh, to be young adults and have a job that allowed them to act like kids. They just sat there and caught their breaths for a few moments. Joey, who was farther from the bathroom than Lance, glanced over to the door and said,

"Oh my gosh, what's that over there?!" Lance glanced quickly to his left as Joey took the perfect opportunity to beeline for the bathroom for his morning shower.

"Made ya look! Made ya look! You're really a sucker, Scoop," Joey cried as he sprinted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Lance tried to tackle him as he flew by, but he was just too quick. Maybe Joey DID have some Superman in him, after all!

"You jerk-off!" Lance yelled through the bathroom door.

"Yah yah, at least I know how!" Lance just shook his head. Joey was always one step ahead of the game, but Lance could always make up for it in his own quiet, mischevious ways. He grabbed his robe to cover up his T-shirt and boxers and headed towards the door. Walking directly next door on the same side of the hall, he knocked and was greeted by Justin. Justin's eyes were watery, slightly crossed, and he had the appearance of dried drool spilling down his mouth.

"Man Justin, you look like you got hit by a train!"

"Cereal. Cereal. Cereal," was all Justin could say. Lance knew well that Justin was not himself until breakfast, and by his looks, it would take AT LEAST three bowls this morning. Lance patted Justin on the back as he walked in to find JC sitting on the bed, brushing his freshly washed hair.

"I need to use your bathroom really quick," Lance said, heading for the door.

"Is yours broken?" JC asked.

"No, it's currently occupied... but not for long." Lance grinned as he turned on the cold water on the sink, the cold water in the shower, and flushed the toilet. The two hotel rooms were mirrored to each other, and Lance was hoping that they shared the same water lines. His suspicions seemed to be correct when he heard a loud thud coming through the wall of the shower, followed by softer thuds traveling through the floor. Lance could even make out a muffled scream come through the walls. Lance cackled a wicked laugh and said to himself, "He won't be jerkin' it for a while NOW."

Lance walked back to his room only to find Joey emerging from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel, with a big red area on his chest. I mean, this thing was wickedly big. It took all the will power in his body not to bust up laughing.

"Out so soon?"

"Yeah, it was cut short by... well... just be careful. The water pressure is crazy in this place!"

"I'll keep that in mind!" Lance said, trying to hide smile that was busting out of his face. Lance grabbed an outfit and ran into the bathroom, quickly turning on the water to mask his hooting laughter. "Joey, 1. Lance, 1," he chuckled as he shed his robe, T-shirt and boxers, and hopped in for a comfortable shower.

All the guys met in the caf‚ at the right time. In fact, it was the first time in months that the whole band was on time for anything! The guys ordered first, followed by Peter, then Roger, their road manager, who had taken a late flight in the night before. Once everyone was settled, Roger spoke.

"I take it you all got settled in. I hope you're all comfortable, because we'll be here for a week or so, as you know. Tonight's concert will be just like all the others... nothing big is going to change. You'll still have all your headliners... Brittany, 98 degrees, the usual. There is a local band that will be playing as the lead opener, and you'll get to meet them a bit later at the rehearsal. While the call for the concert isn't until 5pm, we still have some radio interviews scheduled for this morning and afternoon. You'll be doing your magic on the air at 11:30a, plus a quickie concert tease at 2pm before you swing back by here to get ready."

"Hey Roger... I don't remember those radio interviews being on the agenda," Lance said, suddenly concerned about his previously scheduled appointment.

"Well, they were last minute. The managers of the stations contacted PR and they booked them in the last day or so." Lance felt his heart drop as the realization hit him that he wouldn't be able to return the bag. Every bone in Lance's body was taught to respect his commitments and make right what was wrong, but this was going to cause him to break his promise to Billy. He obviously had to put the band first. Hesitating to respond, Lance decided to remain silent about his dilemma. He didn't really want to advertise to the road manager that he wished to gallivant into the countryside and play good samaritan for the afternoon. Roger would simply not understand.

Lance simply nodded as Roger went on, wrote a note to Pete and passed it over. Pete unfolded the note and read, 'we need to talk. I need some favors.'

I had never been a nervous person. I mean, SURE, I'd sweat before finals, or when my favorite ball team was ahead by one point with 20 seconds left in the game. But that morning, I was a wreck. The alarm had gone off at 9am, and I was out of bed jumping at 9:00:02am. I took another shower, tried on about half a dozen outfits, and did my hair four different ways. I wound up sticking with the first outfit and first hair style. The moral of the story? Always trust your instincts. Anyway, I'm glad no one was home. I had called the McGee's, where my brother was staying, and found out they had gone on a camping trip. HAD anyone been home, they would have thought I was a thirteen year-old girl going to her first sweethearts dance. I was so jumpy and restless, it wasn't funny. It wasn't even 10am yet, and I had accomplished more since I had awoken than I do sometimes in a day of concentrated schoolwork. I wound up checking my appearance in the mirror ONE more time, and then crashed on the couch, flipping on Star Trek: Deep Space 9. I was hoping it would steal my attention until James showed up. 'What would he be like? Would he just drop the bag off and go, or would he stick around and chat some more? Maybe he'd like lunch... nah, he's probably too busy. What am I thinking, he wouldn't think the same of me as I do of him. I'm just Boring Billy, not cool guy James...' The commercial break started in the program, and I realized I had been running these thoughts through my head for half an hour. The plot of the show? Who knows. What I DID know is that the waiting was driving me crazy!

I managed to keep my mind focused on the program until it was over, when I noted that it was 11am. 'He said he'd be here between 11a-noon. Soo... any time now..."

11:15 came and went. I got up and wandered around the kitchen, making sure there were sodas chilling in the refrigerator.

11:30. Nothing yet. The bathroom got another touch-up, as did my hair.

11:45. I ran to check my messages, just in case. Zippo on the recorder.

12:00. Okay, so he's a little late. Maybe he ran into traffic... at noon... in the middle of the day... when everybody who drives is already at work... coming the opposite direction... on city streets... hmmm... well, that argument just fizzled, didn't it?

12:45. My heart sunk. James had told me he would be here. I found him to be intelligent, caring, and humorous. I must have missed the part about trustworthy. Looking past this missed opportunity to meet my new friend, it also occurred to me that I STILL didn't have my bag... AND I had no way of contacting him. My discouragement began to turn to anger as I thought about it all.

1:19pm. I was sitting on the couch eating potato chips, watching bad soap operas and feeling sorry for myself, when I heard it. Faint at first, but then louder. It was not only getting louder, but getting closer. I ran to the end of the living room to peek into the front yard, and sure enough, there was some hotel van pulling into my driveway. Yippie! My heart rate picked up, my palms started to sweat, and my mind started to race. Glancing to the couch as I cantered down the hall to the front door, I saw the bag of chips, reminding myself I probably had dragon breath. I sprinted to the bathroom and brushed my teeth like it was going out of style. Scrub scrub. As I spit the last of the toothpaste out, I heard the doorbell ring. I rinsed and spat, grabbing a towel as I ran out to the door. Tossing the towel, I took a deep breath, turned the door knob, and opened the door to find...

a man in his 50's holding my suitcase.

A deafening pause ensued at my front door. Somewhere in the distance a dog faintly barked. A feather floated by in the air. I swear I saw a tumbleweed roll past, followed by a lone cricket's chirping somewhere in the bushes.

"Delivery for a Mr. Billy Wilson," said the man as he read my name from his clipboard, breaking the silence.

"Th..th..that's me. Are... you... James?" I wasn't going to like either of the possible answers. A 'yes' would mean my telephone sweetie was three times my age. A 'no' would mean James had broken his commitment.

"The name's Ron. I work for the hotel. If you could sign here." I numbly grabbed the clipboard and signed something haphazardly across his paper. Ron glanced at it, examined my hieroglyphics, and said, "Well, that'll do. Have a good day."

'I should be happy, right? I got my luggage back safe and sound, plus I got to chat with somebody really nice on the phone. The whole experience made me feel great last night, so how come I feel so let down right now?' All of this flashing through my mind in a half-second, I blinked, breathed, yelled thank you to Ron, and closed the door with luggage in hand. I sat down on the couch, stared at my bag, and started thinking again.

'Come on, Billy. Grow up!' I don't even KNOW this guy, he doesn't even KNOW me, and I'm just blowing this whole thing out of proportion. I'm so tempted to use the words heartbroken and destroyed to describe my condition, but that would be so silly because I've never met him. He'd have probably just dropped the bag off, shaken hands, and driven right back into his own life. I got to chat on the phone, he made me feel good, I got my luggage back. No Billy, life is good, life goes on. PHEW.

I half smiled as I got up and walked back to my bedroom, thinking how silly it was for me to think I could make anything out of this whole mess. By the time I got to my room, I was laughing and shaking my head about the whole ordeal. I hit play on the CD player and tossed the bag on the bed. As I reached to open the latches on my suitcase, 'Tearin' Up My Heart' came on AGAIN, and I yelled, "SHUT UP!" at the stereo, laughing as I thought of the lyrics.

I had just opened the luggage when I noticed a plain white envelope sitting in the middle of my clothes, right on top. I cocked my head and grunted, "arruggh?", not remembering anything like this when I packed it in Virginia. Upon closer inspection, I found the words, "FOR BILLY" written on it. This piqued my curiosity, and I opened it. I pulled out a note written on regular paper, and two smaller pieces of paper fell out. I read the letter.

Hey Billy-

I'm not doing too well on the reliability thing, am I? First I screw everything up with your bag, then I don't show up and make everything right by dropping it off personally.

I was really looking forward to meeting you, but duty called and my music group had an unplanned rehearsal this morning. I know sending the bag via hotel courier is not the same thing, but at least you got your bag back.

In an attempt to start making things better, I've included a few tickets to a concert being held in town tonight. I had these, but my group has a performance tonight and I won't be able to use them. Please try to use them, since I think they're good seats.

I still want to meet up with you, so I'll try to call you tonight after my little gig and talk some more. I might even have a surprise for you.

Your bud (hopefully), -James

I was floored. Now I was really confused. What do I think? What do I do? Who do I call? When can I... BREATHE, Billy, BREATHE. He still wanted to meet me, but got caught in a rehersal. HA! No problem. Excuse accepted! He's forgiven! Now to just wait for the call...

I started daydreaming again, until the two slips of paper that had fallen out of the letter caught my attention. I picked them up and realized they were the tickets. Ah yes, that makes sense. So who is going to be performing at this little shindig tonight? I scanned the ticket for a second, and my jaw near hit the bed and rolled onto the floor. I inhaled, and said the name out loud,

"N'Sync."