"When I say fast, you say life. Fast!"
"No."
"Fast!"
"No."
"Fast!"
"No," Nick grunts. "I'm not doing this stupid chant with you."
"Will you lighten up a little?" Joe picks up his pace, rushing to catch up to his brother. "Try it just one time. Fast!"
Nick frowns.
So Joe lifts Nick's arms, pumping them in the air. "Life!" he shouts in falsetto.
"Cut it out," Nick retorts, pulling free. "I said that I didn't want to play your dumb games anymore, Joseph."
"They're not dumb. They're entertaining."
"Maybe for you."
"For both of us." Joe takes a quick glance at his watch and grins. "Look, we've already killed two hours. We're going to be boarding soon."
"Not soon enough."
Joe groans. "Why are you being such an ass? I'm trying to make things fun, and you keep bitching at me."
"I'm not bitching at you."
"Yeah, you are, and I'm fucking tired of it." Nick recoils. "In case you didn't realize, I could be talking to everyone else. The entire group is sitting at the gate. I'd be over there with them if you weren't so antisocial."
Nick lowers his eyes. "Sorry."
"I am, too. I'm sorry I even asked you to come with me."
"Hey, I just apologized."
"I don't accept it."
"Fine. Then, I'm sorry I even agreed to go on the road with you. I should've stayed home."
"Don't come then," Joe snaps. "Go back to the house. See if I give a shit."
Huffing, Nick watches as his brother stalks his way back to the gate. He's easily welcomed into the group of guys and girls huddled around a section of chairs. But Nick doesn't get what the big fuss is. How can these people be so eager to be around Joe?
Their father looks over as Nick collapses into the chair beside him. "Can you call someone to pick me up?"
"Pick you up? Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Nicholas..."
"Dad," he sighs, "I don't wanna be here. Joe doesn't want me here. It only makes sense for me to leave."
"What makes you think that he doesn't want you here?"
"He just told me."
"Oh." Kevin Sr. leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well, what did you do to provoke him into saying that?"
"I didn't do anything. He was annoying me, so I told him to stop. Not that Joe ever listens to what I say."
"You both need to learn to listen to each other."
Nick doesn't feel like being lectured. He's tired, pissed off, and pretty much hates everyone. So if he could leave now, it'd be awesome.
He sits back in his chair and pulls out his phone. "I'm calling Mom. She'll get me."
"It's almost eleven."
"So?"
"So your mother is tired," he replies, snatching his son's phone away. "She's taking care of your brother and your dog. Let her get some sleep."
"Then I'll take a cab."
"You're not going anywhere alone at this hour. You're flying to Boston with all of us. Then, and only then, you can decide if you want to come home."
His mouth falls open. "You're going to make me fly across the country, only to fly all the way back?"
"You may not want to leave once we get there."
"As long as Joe keeps being a jackass, I will."
"Language."
Nick groans as an announcement is made to start boarding. He picks up his satchel, swings it over his shoulder, and hovers at his father's side. "I don't want to sit with him. He's only going to find ways to irritate me if we're stuck next to each other the entire flight."
"What if he saves you a seat?"
He contemplates the thought for a moment. But then he catches a glimpse of his brother handing over his boarding pass and heading for the plane, still engulfed in that same group. Yeah, that definitely won't be happening. Nick's clearly been replaced.
"He won't."
"You can sit with me."
Nick contemplates that, too. Yet, as they're walking through the aisles of seating, he declines. He'd rather be as far away from Joe as possible. So he picks a seat in a secluded row all the way in the back of the plane.
Yes. This is good. He can sit here and relax. He can sleep. He can listen to music. He can write. He has endless possibilities.
"Okay," he suddenly hears Joe shout. His brother's head then pops up, gaining everyone's attention from his seat. "When I say fast, you say life. Fast!"
"Life!" the plane choruses.
"Fast!"
"Life!"
And as massive cheering ensues, Nick shuts his eyes. This is going to be the longest plane ride of his life, and they haven't even taken off yet.
Joe sucks. He's such a dick. Just looking at him makes me sick.
Nick chuckles as he reads over the lyrics he's scribbled down in his notebook. He's never written a Grammy nominated song, but he's fairly sure that this one has potential.
He shifts the pillow behind his head. They've been in the air for about two hours now, and everyone's asleep. Everyone except Nick, that is.
"Is this seat taken?"
And except for Destiny Hope...Miley...whatever her name is.
Nick reaches for his satchel and plops it on the chair. "Yep. Looks like it is."
"Hey, I thought we agreed that we were starting over?"
"We did, but then I changed my mind."
"Sheesh. Joe was right. You are quite the bundle of sunshine tonight."
He rolls his eyes. "He told you that we're fighting?"
"He told everyone," she replies, moving the satchel back to Nick's feet. "He was pretty upset over it."
"Didn't seem like it."
Smiling, she lowers herself into the seat. "Well, it was obvious that you—"
"I didn't say that you could sit there."
"Wow, you are super cranky. I think Baby Jonas needs a nap."
The one thing that annoys Nick more than anything is when people undermine him because of his age. He is not a child. He is an adult.
"Frankie's the youngest," he points out.
"You're the youngest of the group."
"The group doesn't exist anymore."
"It does. You're eighteen, and that makes you the youngest."
"I'm eighteen and a half," he counters.
And then he wants to smack himself. Eighteen and a half? Who fucking says that?
Her smile only widens. "I apologize. I didn't know that you were so sensitive about your age."
"I don't need your apology."
"How old do you think I am?"
Nick shakes his head. "I'm not playing this game."
"Why not? Aren't you the competitive one?"
"Yeah, but there's no winner. If I guess that you're younger, it makes it seem like I think that you're immature. If I guess that you're older, it's like I'm saying that you have wrinkles or grey hair or something."
"I promise I won't be offended."
"Doesn't matter."
"If you guess a younger age, I'd take it as a compliment. It means that I look good."
"Fine. Then I guess that you're twelve years old."
Her head falls back as she laughs. "Not that young. I don't want people thinking I'm some pubescent child."
"That's not what I meant," he replies, cracking just the slightest of grins. "I was only trying to—"
"Compliment me?"
Nick pauses. Maybe that was his intention. Of course, there are other things he could've complimented her on. Like how the color of her eyes mirrors that of a cloudless sky. How her hair falls in perfect ringlets, unintentional coils framing the contours of her face. The way that her smile—
"Nick?"
He jumps as she snaps her fingers, snapping him back to reality. "Yeah...uh...sorry."
"I can't believe you just zoned out on me. That's so rude."
"I was distracted."
"By what?" she teases. "My incredibly good looks?"
Yes.
"No," he answers. "The fact that you'd think that I'd compliment you."
She rolls her eyes, not giving into him. "I don't believe you. I'm not buying this smug asshole act either."
"I'm being a smug asshole?"
"You're trying to be. I don't know if that's how you flirt with girls, or if it's some kind of defense—"
"I'm not flirting with you."
"I'm twenty-three," she announces suddenly. "You were off by eleven years."
"That's two years older than Joe."
"Oh, so now we're talking about Joe again."
Nick shrugs. "I'm just pointing out that you're close in age."
"Closer than you and I."
"Well, yeah."
Wait. Does it sound like he's trying to push Joe on her? Because that's not what he wants. He'd rather have her to himself. Not that it'd ever happen. She apparently only hooks up with lead singers. Their younger brothers aren't good enough.
"He told you about me, didn't he?"
He licks his lips. "He didn't really say much."
"Just that I always get with someone during tour."
"He said the lead singer."
"I see." She leans back in her seat, staring straight ahead of her. "Do you believe him?"
"Should I?"
She blinks. "Yeah. I mean, it's true."
"Well, why do you do it?"
"For a lot of reasons. For reasons that I don't want to talk about right now."
"Okay..."
"You didn't know about me when we first met," she says quietly. "When we ended up in the bathroom together, you didn't know who I was."
"Mhm."
"I could tell. Usually, the guys have this look like they can't wait to get to me. You were different."
Nick scoffs. "Considering the circumstances, I was more surprised than aroused."
His remark is enough to make her laugh. "True."
Gathering a little courage, he leans in. "Is that why you didn't tell me your real name?"
"Destiny Hope is my real name. Everyone calls me Miley, though."
"Miley." His lips test her name. And, immediately, they decide they like the feel of it.
"I didn't want you judging me based on my reputation. That's why I didn't tell you. Plus, you gave me the perfect opening."
"I did," he admits. "But did you honestly think that I'd last this entire tour without finding out?"
"Maybe it was just wishful thinking."
"Why me, though? Why did you care what I thought of you?"
"Because you didn't know who I was," she says. "It was like having a clean slate. And it was kind of exciting meeting someone who didn't have any preconceived notions about me. You know what I mean?"
Nick nods. "I know exactly what you mean."
"But that only lasted five minutes because by the time I got back to the room, Joe already filled you in."
"To be honest, I was just trying to figure out why you lied to me about your name."
"You know now."
"I do."
Miley looks to him, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. "Are you still upset that I lied?"
"No."
"Good." She sits back, folding her hands in her lap. "So did Joe say anything else? Maybe how he can't wait to hang out with me?"
Nick recoils. "You're still going to do...this with him?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You made it sound like you weren't interested. Like it's something you have to do, instead of something that you want to do."
"But I also said that I had my reasoning."
"Reasoning that you won't explain to me."
"I've told you before that I don't have to explain myself to you."
"You don't," he relents. "However, you also said that you didn't care about me, and, yet, here you are voluntarily."
"Having a conversation doesn't mean that I care about you."
"It means that you chose to talk to me instead of anyone else."
"You're the only other person awake."
"Excuses, excuses."
"Stop flirting with me, Baby Jonas."
"I'm not flirting with you, and I'm not a baby, either."
Flashing him another smile, Miley gets to her feet. "I guess I'll get back to my seat then."
"Fine."
"Okay."
Nick lunges across the seats. He grabs her hand, trying to get her attention. Instead, his attention is diverted to the color painted on her nails.
"It's called, Orange You Glad To See Me."
"Oh, I always am. Though, I do prefer this airplane setting over the bathroom one."
"Shut up."
He grins. "Look, I was just going to say that if you don't want to do this with Joe, you don't have to. I can talk him out of it. And he moves on really fast, anyway. There's always someone else he'd be willing to hook up with."
"I can handle it, Nick. I don't need you to protect me."
"Think of it as me making it up to you for being an ass the other day."
"I know what I'm getting myself into. This isn't the first time, remember?"
"But if you're only doing this because you think that you're expected to—"
"Joe's hot," she says. "It's not like I'd be torturing myself."
He shrugs. "Fine. Do what you want, then."
"I will. And since you and I are getting along again, I'm going to help you out by talking to Joe."
"You don't have to do that," he argues. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the fact that she's trying to be nice or trying to stay on his good side. Nick just doesn't want her in his business. If she gets Joe talking, he could spill secrets or embarrassing stories or mention—
"Joe sucks. He such a—"
"Whoa." Nick sits up, now finding Miley leaning over him. "Don't read that."
"What is that?"
"Just something that I was working on."
"Is it a poem?"
"No," he mutters, "it's more like...a song."
"Oh, a song. Interesting."
"You might not think it's that good, but it is."
She shakes her head. "I didn't say anything about it. I didn't even know you were writing songs at all."
"I'm not. I'm kind of stuck."
"Well, I'm sure that you'll get unstuck eventually." She leans over again, this time picking up his pen. "This is my number. Text me tomorrow."
"You're giving me your number?"
Miley licks her lips. "I figured you'd want to know how things were going with Joe. I'm going to be with him all day at the venue, so we'll have time to talk."
"Uh...okay."
Yeah, way to go, Nick, he thinks. That was real suave.
"You could talk to him when we land."
He narrows his eyes. "If he's willing to."
"What if he isn't?"
"Then, I'll probably leave."
"Nick, you can't—"
"Don't tell me what I can't do."
"All right," she sighs, moving for the aisle. "Just don't make up your mind yet. Everything's going to work out. You'll see."
Nodding, he watches as she makes her way towards the front of the plane. She glances back at him once, smiles, and then ducks down in her seat. Nick reclines in his chair. He closes his eyes and lays back on his pillow, a light melody drifting through his ears.
Later the next day, Nick realizes how lonely it's going to be on this tour. His dad, Joe, and the whole team is off doing preparations for Joe's first show. It's not that he wasn't invited along with them. It's just that Joe made it more than obvious that he didn't want Nick around.
So he's sitting now on the sofa in the suite that he shares with his brother and deciding when to text Miley. He'd been thinking about it since he got his phone back from his father and programmed those seven digits in. He also managed to avoid his father's questioning as to what was in his notebook that he was guarding so fiercely.
He should've just given Miley his number so she could update him. Not that it's ever a good idea to give your number to a stranger, especially when you're a celebrity. But he's desperate to find out what's going on with his brother. And though he doesn't want to rely on Miley's help, she may have a better chance of fixing this than he does.
"What are you doing?"
Nick gasps. He looks up to find Joe hovering over him. He didn't even hear the door open. And is that...is that Miley behind him?
It is.
"Nothing," he murmurs, stuffing his phone in his pocket. "Just hanging around."
"You have the whole day to enjoy Boston, and you're sitting on the couch with your phone?"
"You have the day off, too."
"I've been in meetings all morning."
"You have the rest of the day off," Nick clarifies.
"Well, why don't you just fuck off, Nicholas?"
"Hey," Miley interrupts, "I thought you were going to be nice?"
Joe groans. "He's being an ass again."
"How?"
"He's irritating me."
"He's just sitting there."
"Whatever," he huffs. "Let me grab my jacket, and then we can go."
Nick watches as his brother makes a beeline for his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. And he hates this. He hates having Joe mad at him. Because as bad as it is having Joe annoy him all the time, it's better than being ignored.
"So, how's your day going?"
"All right, I guess. I've been here all morning."
"And what have you been doing?" Miley prods. "Working on that hit song about Joe?"
"No," Nick replies.
"He's going to come around, you know."
"Yeah, well, I still have my bags packed. He doesn't exactly need me here."
"Yes, he does. Nick, he told me that he practically had to beg you to come on the road with him. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't want you around."
"I think he's changed his mind now."
"But you just got here. The tour hasn't even started yet. Give it a chance."
Nick shrugs.
"Did you tell Joe that—?"
"He's not going to miss me."
"But what about—?"
"All right. Let's go," Joe says as he strides back in. "I'm starving."
"Maybe Nick wants to come with us."
"And maybe he doesn't." Joe grabs her hand, leading her away. "Nick would rather sulk and bring everyone down."
It's a few hours later when he's watching Sports Center that Joe comes bursting in the room.
"Miley can't make it. Will you go out with me tonight?"
Nick looks over from the T.V.. "What happened?"
Joe averts his eyes, clearly not happy that he has no choice but to talk to his younger brother. "She's not feeling well. Guess it was something she ate at lunch. She wants to spend the night in, but she wants me to still go out because she planned something special."
"And what's that?"
"I don't know. It's a surprise. There's a car downstairs to take us."
"Sounds dangerous."
"Don't be a sarcastic asshole."
"Fine," Nick huffs as he turns to the screen, "go by yourself, then."
"I don't want to go by myself."
"Ask someone else."
"Do you really think that I'd be here if there was someone else I wanted to go with?"
Nick latches onto that one word: wanted. He wants to go with Nick. Maybe this is a peace offering of some kind.
No, he's clearly just a last resort.
"C'mon, Nick. Please just do this for me."
"Joe—"
"She planned this especially for me. I don't want to let her down."
Strangely enough, Nick doesn't want to either.
"You don't even have to get changed. Miley told me that it's casual."
"Fine," Nick sighs, heaving himself up, "I'll go."
The surprise turns out to be Nick's worst nightmare. "Fenway Park," he gasps as the car drops them off. "She sent us to a Red Sox game?"
"Well, she knows that I like baseball."
"You like the Yankees. The Red Sox are our biggest rivals."
"True," Joe replies, and then he starts moving for the entrance.
"Hey, what are you doing? You can't go in there."
"She got us tickets."
"So give them away to someone," Nick argues. "There are plenty of people who'd go."
"But all of the people who are here already have tickets."
Oh. True.
Nick continues to protest as Joe drags him over. "This is heresy. We're betraying the Yankees if we go to this game."
"Yes, I'm sure Derek Jeter is tracking our every move and can tell that we're here right now."
"We could get banned from Yankee Stadium for this."
Joe snorts. "Live a little, Nicholas. I'll make sure we have a good time."
By the time the seventh inning stretch rolls around, Nick is definitely not having a good time. The Red Sox are way ahead. The guy in the seat next to him jumps up during every at-bat, spilling his popcorn all over Nick. Joe hasn't even bought him any snacks. So he's irritated, covered in popcorn, and starving. Not a good combo.
"Can we leave now?"
"No. The game's not over yet. Miley's gonna know that we left early."
"How?"
"Well, I was planning on dropping by her room to see how she was feeling."
Nick frowns. Why didn't he think of that first? He's the smart one. He should've checked on her before they even left.
Not that Nick should even want to check on her.
"I have an idea."
"An idea for what?"
"For us having to leave."
"I thought you wanted to stay?"
"But now you got me thinking about Miley."
Ugh. What has he done?
"When I say Red Sox," Joe whispers, "you say suck."
Nick's jaw drops. "Joe, we can't do that here. They're going to kill us."
"Red Sox!"
"No."
"Red Sox!"
"No."
"Red Sox!"
Oh God. He's actually going to do this.
"Suck," he mutters.
"I can't hear you," Joe yells. "Red Sox!"
"Suck!"
"Red Sox!"
"Suck!"
"Hey, get out of here," the guy next to him shouts, purposely throwing popcorn on Nick this time. "This is Fenway Park, for crying out loud."
Joe jumps up. "Yeah, and your team sucks."
"Red Sox suck," Nick adds for emphasis.
And then more people are getting involved. They're getting yelled at, and getting things thrown at them.
"Fall out," Joe yelps as they head for the aisle, ducking the cups that are being pelted at their heads. "We gotta evacuate."
"Go, go, go!"
Even as they run up the steps, Joe continues to shout. "Red Sox!"
"Suck!" Nick answers every time.
They're both red-faced and breathless as they climb into a taxi. "I can't believe you just did that," Joe laughs. "You never do that kind of stuff with me."
"I hate the Red Sox."
"You also hate attention."
"True."
Joe reaches over, pulling some popcorn out from his brother's tousled curls. "Thanks for coming, anyway. I had fun."
"Yeah, it wasn't too bad," Nick sighs. "And I'm...uh...sorry about yesterday."
"For what?"
"For being an ass."
Joe smirks. "You weren't an ass, Nick."
"You said I was."
"Well, I lied. I was the ass," he admits. "I was just tense because my day was so hectic, and I didn't have you with me. And I figured you were still pissed at me, so it wasn't like I could come back to the room and vent to you."
He turns, looking his older brother in the eyes. "You can vent to me if you want."
Sure enough, Joe nods. "It just sucked. I got bombarded with all of this information, and I couldn't remember any of it. Even now, I'm not sure about what they were talking about. They gave me a tour of the venue, and I ended up straggling behind and getting lost. And then they gave me this whole schedule for the next two days before the first show, and it feels like I have to be everywhere at once. I need to do radio interviews and T.V. interviews. I have dance rehearsal and vocal practice. I have to do staging so they can figure out how to do the lighting, and it's like...it's like I never get a break."
"You'll get a break, Joe. It's not like they can expect you to do everything on your own."
"I know. That's why they gave me Miley. She's supposed to be helping me out because she has the most experience or something."
Nick's smile falters in the slightest. "I guess you two will be spending a lot of time together."
"She seems really cool. We had a short break today, and she played hangman with me."
"Totally your type, Joe."
"I think you'll like her too, though," he adds. "I mean, not like like her. Not like you liked Bathroom Babe."
"Oh...uh...yeah. Right."
"I can't believe she didn't end up coming on the road with us. Are you sure you didn't just miss her at the meeting?"
Nick shakes his head. "Like I told you, she definitely wasn't at the pre-tour meeting. It was mandatory, so if she was coming, she wouldn't have missed it."
It was a dumb story that Nick had managed to concoct a week ago in a matter of two minutes. Luckily, Joe was gullible enough to believe it.
"We'll find someone else for you," he suggests. "Maybe Miley knows someone."
"Maybe."
"But you've still got me," Joe says, swinging an arm around Nick's shoulders. "You'll always have me."
Somehow, Nick feels like he knew that all along.
You deserve to be sick for sending us to a Red Sox game :)
Nick grins. He might not need Miley's number to get info on Joe anymore, but he can use it to tease her. She should be punished for sending him to hell on Earth.
And he's about to send it when he finds her at the vending machine.
"Miley?"
She turns around, eyes wide, and her mouth filled with potato chips. "Oh...um...hey."
"Hey to you, too," he replies, strolling over. "What are you doing?"
"Eating."
"I thought you were sick?"
"I was," she replies. "I guess you're not aware that chips are the cure for everything."
Nick grins. "No, I guess not. They don't happen to cure a broken heart, do they?"
"A broken heart?"
"Yeah, you see, someone thought it'd be funny to send me and my brother to a Red Sox game."
"Oh, and it broke your little Yankee heart, did it?"
"Absolutely shattered it."
Smiling, she offers him the bag. "You'll definitely be needing these then."
He takes a handful. "These better work. Otherwise, our friendship is officially terminated."
"Wait," Miley says, "we're friends now?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, I thought we were. You know, after everything that happened today."
"Right. Okay."
"Okay," he replies. "And since we're going to be friends, I'm going to have to educate you on my brother. I don't even know why you wanted to take Joe to a Red Sox game—"
"I was never planning on going. I thought it'd be good for you two."
Nick freezes. "You purposely wanted Joe and I to go to a Red Sox game?"
She shrugs. "You guys were fighting. I thought uniting against a common enemy would fix things."
"It did."
"So you're going to stay?"
Then, it clicks. It all makes sense. "Wait. You did this because you didn't want me to—"
"Where is that brother of yours anyway?"
"Oh." Nick frowns. "Um...my dad asked him to stop by his room. They had to talk about something."
"So I should get to my room before he figures out that I'm not really sick."
"You're gonna go?"
"I kinda have to," she answers. "Keep the chips for me, okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
Miley's just a few steps away when she turns around. "Hey, I meant to tell you. I painted my nails in honor of your favorite team."
"That's it," he says once he catches a glimpse of the red color on her fingers. "Friendship terminated."
"No, Nick," Miley replies. "We're only getting started."
Hey, everyone! Sorry (again) for the lack of update. I just had a couple of complications, but it's all good now. I also wanted to thank you guys for the huge response on the last chapter. I was completely overwhelmed. I think I replied to all of the reviews, but if I missed yours, let me know :)
