Chapter SIXTY

JC parked the car, and him and Joey got out and opened the back door.

"Chris," Joey said. "Wake up." He shook his arm, and Chris's eye's opened.

"Are we here?" he asked, sleepily.

"Yeah," JC said. "Let's go."

They helped Chris out of the car and into the hospital. They rode the elevator to the third floor, then Joey brought Chris into the waiting room, and JC went up to the desk.

"Hey, my friend is really sick, we called earlier," JC said.

"What's his name?" the lady asked.

"Chris Kirkpatrick," JC answered.

The lady looked at the list in front of her. "Okay, it should only be a few minutes. There is only one person in there, and then Mr. Kirkpatrick is next."

"Thanks," JC said, and walked back to Joey and Chris. "Few minutes."

"Great," Joey said. "The sooner the better."

JC picked up a magazine from the table and began to scan it. "Hey, look," he said. He pointed to a picture of the group.

"What magazine is that?" Joey asked.

"People," JC answered. "The headline says, "America's Hottest Group Is Getting Hotter"."

Joey laughed. "That's good to hear. What does it say?"

JC scanned the magazine. "Just stuff about our tour and stuff about us. Nothing important. It's a crappy picture though."

"I agree," Joey said, looking at the picture.

"Chris Kirkpatrick?" the nurse said coming into the room.

Joey looked up. "Chris," he said, nudging him. Chris opened his eyes. "It's your turn."

JC and Joey helped Chris get up, and they followed the nurse into the room. Chris sat on the bed, and JC and Joey sat on the chairs. A few minutes later, the doctor walked in.

"Which one of you is Chris?" the doctor said.

"I am," Chris said, tiredly.

"I'm Dr. Johnson," the doctor said. "What's been bothering you?"

"A few days ago, I had a killer headache, it was so bad," Chris said. "Tylenol worked, but not for awhile. Then lately, since then, I have been really tired. My throat is a little scratchy too."

"Well," Dr. Johnson said, walking over. He checked Chris's ears and throat and his breathing. "How's your head now?"

"It doesn't hurt," Chris said.

"Well, the headache was probably just a headache," Dr. Johnson said. "Maybe a migraine. As for the tiredness, you could just be over tired... I don't know. What I am going to do, is take some blood, and we get it back in fifteen minutes, since this is the hospital. I'll let you know what's wrong, and how we are going to treat it."

"Thanks," Chris said.

JC turned pale. "Are you taking blood right now?"

"Yes," Dr. Johnson replied, getting the needle ready.

"Joey, come get me when you are waiting for results," JC said.

"Sure," Joey said. JC left.

"Chris, I have to take three of this size," Dr. Johnson said, holding up a small clear tube. "If it's not over tiredness, it's possible to be other things. One of three. Your throat is very red, and your glands are very swollen. I'll take your blood, and give it to the lab."

"Okay," Chris said.

Dr. Johnson filled the three tubes with Chris's blood, and told them he would be back in fifteen minutes. Joey went out and got JC, and the three waited impatiently for the results.

***

Justin sat down on the bed in one room, and Lance walked into the other. Justin picked up an old magazine someone left in the room, and started to leaf through it.

***

Lance sighed, bored, not knowing what to do. He walked over to the wetbar and smiled. It was filled with alcoholic beverages. Just what he was in the mood for. He poured himself a shot, and drank it, then poured a few more. Feeling only a little buzzed, he decided to go down to the bar on the main floor of the hotel.

The guy at the bar asked Lance for his ID. "Excuse me," he said. "But I am Lance Bass from N Sync. I am almost 21. COME ON!"

The bartender smiled and gave in. "Fine," he said.

"Okay," Lance said, "great." He asked for a few shots of Kahlua.

***

Justin put down the magazine and decided to go downstairs and get a Coke.

***

Lance downed the second of the three Kahlua's and glanced at the person beside him. "Justin?"

Justin forced a smile. "Hi." He looked down at his Coke.

"Justin, why aren't you talking to me?" Lance said. "One more Kahlua... no, three." He told the bartender. The bartender poured three shots and gave them to Lance. When Justin wasn't looking, Lance poured the three shots in the remainder of Justin's Coke.

***

Justin absentmindedly drank his Coke. It tasted different then usual, but he assumed it wasn't anything. It just tasted like syrup.

***

Lance giggled and Justin looked over at him. "What?" Justin asked.

"Nothing," Lance said, still giggling. "Another two shots," he said to the bartender.

"I think you've had enough," the bartender said.

"I AM LANCE," Lance yelled, trying to stand on his barstool. "Please, just two more."

"Fine," the bartender said, giving him two more, then turning to the next customer. When Justin looked away, Lance poured them both into Justin's drink, and laughed.

"What are you laughing at?" Justin asked.

"Nothing," Lance said, still laughing.

Justin finished the rest of his Coke, and stood up. What's with my legs? He thought. They feel like Jello. Suddenly, Lance's laughing became contagious. Justin started giggling.

***

"Okay," Dr. Johnson came back in, holding a folder. "Chris, we have some results for you. There is good news, bad news, and very bad news."

Chris's eyes opened wide. "Am I dying?" he asked.

The doctor laughed. "No," he said.

"Okay," Chris said. "Tell me the news."

"Well, the good news is that we found something wrong, so we know how to fix it," Dr. Johnson said.

"That's okay," Chris said. "Next?"

"The bad news is, you have mono," Dr. Johnson said. "And the very bad news is, you have to take it easy for a minimum of three months. That means no vigorous activity. Just take it easy."

"What's mono?" Joey asked.

"Mono is a curable, temporary disease. The only thing that you will affect you, is that you'll be extremely tired, and your throat might hurt, but not for long... probably only a week maximum."

"Okay," Chris said. "So that's why I have been so tired? Do I get medication?"

"This has to cure on it's own, and it's cured by resting," the doctor said. "That is why you have been so tired. The headache was just a normal headache, maybe a migraine."

"Rest? I can't rest," Chris said. "And especially not for three months."

"You have to," Dr. Johnson said. "Or it could get worse."

"He'll rest," Joey said. "Don't worry."

"A lot of relaxation is good," the doctor said. "A vacation is great, too. But not right away... near the end of the three months. We want him here tonight, just to make sure it's not too severe."

"Okay," JC said. "Will he need to come back for check ups?"

"No," the doctor said. "He'll know when he is better. You'll see improvement every day when he does start to improve."

"Okay," JC said.

"You can stay here, tonight, with him," Dr. Johnson said.

"Thanks," Joey said. "We will."

"He'll be in this room," Dr. Johnson went on, "and I will bring in two cots and some blankets. There is a phone over there, if you need calls."

"Thanks," Chris said weakly. The doctor left. "Can you call the guys?"

"Sure," JC said. He picked up the phone, and dialed the hotel. He connected to their rooms, but there was no answer, so he left a message with the front desk. Then he called the manager.

"Okay," the manager said, when he heard. "I'll take all the concerts off. They will just be postponed though, okay?"

"Okay," JC said. "Sorry."

"Who cares? We need Chris better," the manager said. "Well, I have to make calls. Got to go."

"Sure, bye," JC said.

"Bye," the manager said.

JC called Eryn and told her, and then went back to Chris and Joey.

***

Justin followed Lance into his hotel room.

"Want some beer?" Lance yelled.

"Lance, I am two or seven feet infront of you. No need to yell," Justin grinned.

"Want some beer?" Lance whispered.

"Oh yeah!" Justin yelled. "Hook me up with a six pack."

Lance turned and headed to the wetbar.

"Wait!" Justin yelled.

"What?" Lance whispered.

"I have a six pack," Justin said, grinning slyly.

"Where?" Lance asked, in a really low voice.

"Right here!" Justin said, ripping off his shirt. "Look." He counted each muscle in his stomach. "One, two, three, four, six, five."

"Wow," Lance said in awe. "I want those.... Wait... I have them!" He tore off his shirt, and they counted their abs together.

End Of Chapter Sixty