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Chris Month Day 4
It's Chris month day 4. I'm not sure about this one, but in the spirit of not angsting over these, I'm posting anyway.
You know the drill, unbeta read, which means mistakes may be in there. If you can't deal, don't read.
It happened like this.
One minute Chris was sitting next to his pool, bare feet in the warm water, a cool beer close at hand. The next he was surrounded by a group of white-suited men who proceed to pick him up and dump him in the back of a van.
It was undignified and annoying and he was pissed that the security that cost so much hadn’t prevented a thing; and that his stupid friends had just stood and watched him be carried away.
At the time he thought he’d been kidnapped, which sucked, because if anyone it should have been Justin who was taken, him being a mega star and all. But no, it wasn’t that at all.
~*~*~*~
“We’re not a boyband.” Pete wrapped his feet around the legs of his chair, chin tiled up as he scowled.
“I know.” The instructor, Tara, sighed as walked the width of the room, her boots clacking against the metal floor. “It’s a catch all term, it doesn’t mean we think you sing and dance in sequence. Just we’ve found most people with the powers we need are members of bands that are all male and, how can I say it, worshiped by fans of a certain age.”
“Excuse me.” JC held his arm in the air, waving to attract her attention. “I resent the implication that there’s something wrong with dancing and singing in sequence.”
Tara stopped pacing, looking pained. “I never said there was.”
“I did.” Bob scowled, obviously spoiling for an argument, and seconds away from storming out of the room – again.
“I want to hear about the saving the world thing again.” Gerard leaned forward, almost vibrating with enthusiasm. “You say we’ve got untapped powers, what kind? Because when I showered last night I felt light-headed, maybe that was a sign?”
“A sign of shock you were in water, maybe.” Lance leaned back in his seat, coolly unconcerned about the menacing glares Bob and Frank directed his way.
“Gentlemen, please.” Tara took a step toward the door, then stopped, taking a deep breath before she turned back to face the room. “You need to stop bickering and be a team; we won’t discover anything at this rate.”
“I’ve already got a team. I don’t need another one.” Pointedly, Pete stood and perched himself on the edge of Patrick’s desk, then looked around. “Mikey can join my team.”
Mikey beamed, looking awkward and scrunched up in his seat, his long legs stretched out from under his desk.
“Mikey’s in our team.” Bob brandished a drum stick, making Joey jump back as it swished past his nose.
“If I can interrupt this love tussle for Mikey, why us?” Lance said, hand held up for hush. “We haven’t even sung together as Nsync in years, and let’s face it; our bands have nothing in common.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Enthusiasm regained, Tara clicked a button, making a 3D diagram appear, floating in the air. “As you can see, results are proportional to the scientific force known as squee. The more squee, the more power, and right now you’re all charged with the power of squee. We’re going to harness that squee, show you what it allows you to do.”
JC looked concerned. “That doesn’t involve needles, does it?”
“Never mind needles, does this mean we get costumes?” More interested now, Joey squinted at the diagram. “Because I’m thinking if we’re harnessing this power of squee, we should do it in style. With capes.”
“Yes!” Smiling wide, Gerard stood, making his chair clatter to the floor. “What do you think of bats? Or skulls? Pete, I could design you something in black with a Clandestine design.”
“Have you ever worked with fake fur?” JC stood too, and made his way to Joey’s desk where Gerard was crouched down, using a Sharpie to sketch designs on Joey’s outstretched arm.
“Gentlemen. Gentlemen, please! We have things to discuss.” Red-faced, Tara tried to cut through the outbreak of chatter, but it was a lost cause. Something she seemed to realise for herself. “Fine, we’ll take a short break. When I come back we’ll arrange some tests” She stalked from the room, never looking back.
“She needs to lighten up.”
Chris looked across the aisle, where Patrick was slouched back in his chair, alone now that Pete had joined the huddle around Joey’s desk.
“Tell me about it, she reminds me of Justin on a bad day.” Chris shifted in his seat, straightening his legs and stretching.
Patrick turned in his seat, his chin propped on one hand. “Nsync, right?”
“Well, my friends call me Chris, but yeah.”
“Sorry. Chris.” Patrick smiled, and Chris had too much experience with boyish wonderkids to miss the uncertainty hidden behind that smile.
“You know this is probably nothing. They’ll ask some questions, do some tests, and realise we’re nothing special.”
“Speak for yourself.” Patrick grinned, more genuine this time.
“You know, I’m having feelings of déjà vu, sure you haven’t got a bleached blond fro under that cap?”
Patrick immediately pulled his cap further onto his head. “No curls here.”
“Cool cap, though.” Chris leaned forward in his seat. “Is it vintage?”
“As vintage as anything from Pete’s label can be.” Eyes gleaming, Patrick looked at Chris from under the brim of his cap. “I like your bandanna, it’s very; you.”
“Which as you’ve known me for all of five minutes, isn’t saying much.” Chris said, taking the edge off the comment with a quick smile. “So, cap boy, what power do you want? Personally I’ve always thought about invisibility.”
Patrick glanced across the room to Joey’s desk. “Reading minds, I want to be able to understand.”
”Cool power, still. Think what you could do when you’re invisible.”
Patrick didn’t get a chance to reply, falling silent when Tara walked back into the room. When she ushered them all toward the door, Chris gave Patrick a last reassuring look, then joined the end of the line. Walking out of the classroom, ready to see what would happen next.
You know the drill, unbeta read, which means mistakes may be in there. If you can't deal, don't read.
It happened like this.
One minute Chris was sitting next to his pool, bare feet in the warm water, a cool beer close at hand. The next he was surrounded by a group of white-suited men who proceed to pick him up and dump him in the back of a van.
It was undignified and annoying and he was pissed that the security that cost so much hadn’t prevented a thing; and that his stupid friends had just stood and watched him be carried away.
At the time he thought he’d been kidnapped, which sucked, because if anyone it should have been Justin who was taken, him being a mega star and all. But no, it wasn’t that at all.
~*~*~*~
“We’re not a boyband.” Pete wrapped his feet around the legs of his chair, chin tiled up as he scowled.
“I know.” The instructor, Tara, sighed as walked the width of the room, her boots clacking against the metal floor. “It’s a catch all term, it doesn’t mean we think you sing and dance in sequence. Just we’ve found most people with the powers we need are members of bands that are all male and, how can I say it, worshiped by fans of a certain age.”
“Excuse me.” JC held his arm in the air, waving to attract her attention. “I resent the implication that there’s something wrong with dancing and singing in sequence.”
Tara stopped pacing, looking pained. “I never said there was.”
“I did.” Bob scowled, obviously spoiling for an argument, and seconds away from storming out of the room – again.
“I want to hear about the saving the world thing again.” Gerard leaned forward, almost vibrating with enthusiasm. “You say we’ve got untapped powers, what kind? Because when I showered last night I felt light-headed, maybe that was a sign?”
“A sign of shock you were in water, maybe.” Lance leaned back in his seat, coolly unconcerned about the menacing glares Bob and Frank directed his way.
“Gentlemen, please.” Tara took a step toward the door, then stopped, taking a deep breath before she turned back to face the room. “You need to stop bickering and be a team; we won’t discover anything at this rate.”
“I’ve already got a team. I don’t need another one.” Pointedly, Pete stood and perched himself on the edge of Patrick’s desk, then looked around. “Mikey can join my team.”
Mikey beamed, looking awkward and scrunched up in his seat, his long legs stretched out from under his desk.
“Mikey’s in our team.” Bob brandished a drum stick, making Joey jump back as it swished past his nose.
“If I can interrupt this love tussle for Mikey, why us?” Lance said, hand held up for hush. “We haven’t even sung together as Nsync in years, and let’s face it; our bands have nothing in common.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Enthusiasm regained, Tara clicked a button, making a 3D diagram appear, floating in the air. “As you can see, results are proportional to the scientific force known as squee. The more squee, the more power, and right now you’re all charged with the power of squee. We’re going to harness that squee, show you what it allows you to do.”
JC looked concerned. “That doesn’t involve needles, does it?”
“Never mind needles, does this mean we get costumes?” More interested now, Joey squinted at the diagram. “Because I’m thinking if we’re harnessing this power of squee, we should do it in style. With capes.”
“Yes!” Smiling wide, Gerard stood, making his chair clatter to the floor. “What do you think of bats? Or skulls? Pete, I could design you something in black with a Clandestine design.”
“Have you ever worked with fake fur?” JC stood too, and made his way to Joey’s desk where Gerard was crouched down, using a Sharpie to sketch designs on Joey’s outstretched arm.
“Gentlemen. Gentlemen, please! We have things to discuss.” Red-faced, Tara tried to cut through the outbreak of chatter, but it was a lost cause. Something she seemed to realise for herself. “Fine, we’ll take a short break. When I come back we’ll arrange some tests” She stalked from the room, never looking back.
“She needs to lighten up.”
Chris looked across the aisle, where Patrick was slouched back in his chair, alone now that Pete had joined the huddle around Joey’s desk.
“Tell me about it, she reminds me of Justin on a bad day.” Chris shifted in his seat, straightening his legs and stretching.
Patrick turned in his seat, his chin propped on one hand. “Nsync, right?”
“Well, my friends call me Chris, but yeah.”
“Sorry. Chris.” Patrick smiled, and Chris had too much experience with boyish wonderkids to miss the uncertainty hidden behind that smile.
“You know this is probably nothing. They’ll ask some questions, do some tests, and realise we’re nothing special.”
“Speak for yourself.” Patrick grinned, more genuine this time.
“You know, I’m having feelings of déjà vu, sure you haven’t got a bleached blond fro under that cap?”
Patrick immediately pulled his cap further onto his head. “No curls here.”
“Cool cap, though.” Chris leaned forward in his seat. “Is it vintage?”
“As vintage as anything from Pete’s label can be.” Eyes gleaming, Patrick looked at Chris from under the brim of his cap. “I like your bandanna, it’s very; you.”
“Which as you’ve known me for all of five minutes, isn’t saying much.” Chris said, taking the edge off the comment with a quick smile. “So, cap boy, what power do you want? Personally I’ve always thought about invisibility.”
Patrick glanced across the room to Joey’s desk. “Reading minds, I want to be able to understand.”
”Cool power, still. Think what you could do when you’re invisible.”
Patrick didn’t get a chance to reply, falling silent when Tara walked back into the room. When she ushered them all toward the door, Chris gave Patrick a last reassuring look, then joined the end of the line. Walking out of the classroom, ready to see what would happen next.