This is what happens when I'm too cheap to buy a birthday gift. ;o) Enjoy!

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

The part of recording that is the hardest to deal with is that everyone’s ideas cannot be used no matter how hard you try to make everyone happy. Isaac, Zac and I were getting testy, earlier in the morning we had started yelling about the bridge to one of the ballads we were working on.

"Isaac, no, we agreed to take those notes out because you can’t make out the lyrics if we keep them in."

Isaac threw an evil look my way and mumbled, "Like it matters you forget the words half the time anyway."

Zac, fearing an all out war of words, tried his best to break it up. Shouting over the insults being thrown around the room, he yelled, "Guys, enough!! We need to get this done before we leave. I’m tired and I know you are to. We’ll have Doug put it down both ways and we’ll decide which one to use tomorrow."

Isaac and I weren’t buying it. We were both tired but instead of seeing reason and just record both versions we were itching for a fight.

"Why does it always have to be your way, Isaac? Just because you are older doesn’t mean you’re better."

"Oh Tay, lay off it. You just want it your way so that you can smirk around all day, rubbing it in that you got your way!"

The engineers and technicians were slowly disappearing from the room while the tension escalated. "Tay you are so spoiled it’s pathetic."

"How can you say that?!"

Zac jumped out from behind the drum kit and started swinging his drumsticks around, "That is it! If you two want a fight, go ahead but I’m going home! I am sick of you two at each other’s throat. I’m out of here."

Me, being the jerk that I can be, lashed out, "Oh yeah! How are you going to get there? You don’t have a license, genius!"

He was heading for the door and threw over his shoulder; "I’ll get Doug to drive me home. He’ll be glad to get away from both of you."

Zac was storming across the room when the door opened. Oh damn. Dad was here. Zac shrunk back into a stool.

"Isaac, Taylor, you have thirty seconds to put your headphones back on and get on with this. Your mother is holding dinner for us so I think the least you can do is hurry up so that she can put Mackenzie and Zoë to bed." With Dad, you knew it was bad when he used full names. Normally he shortened them as a form of endearment. Zac didn’t get out of it unscathed either, "Where were you going? You can’t run from every little problem." He vaulted himself off a stool and back into ‘the hole.’ Knowing Zac, he was smoldering his anger for later.

The door shut again and after a minute or two the techs and engineers returned to their respective places around the room. We recorded, uninterrupted for an hour. There was no talking in the room, which only added to the tension. Zac was licking his wounds behind the drum kit and Isaac was giving me scowling looks from across the room.

Driving back to the house was torture. Zac sat up front with Dad so Isaac and I had to fight it out in the back. My father was up front and driving but as most parents do, he has eyes in the back of his head. There was no use even attempting to get into it with Isaac on the way home; Dad would have throttled us without even having to pull the car over.

Finally after minutes of excruciating silence we pulled into the driveway. Again, for the third night in a row the garage door was not working. Apparently slamming the remote control against the dashboard is my father’s way of fixing it though.

"Dad, just let it go. No one is going to take the car in the hour that we’re here." I opened the door and headed for the house with Zac in tow. Dad was not giving up on the garage door; I could still hear my father slamming the plastic gadget as I walked across the lawn.

~*~*~

Dinner was pretty quiet; everyone seemed to be thinking in his or her own little worlds. Mom and dad tried in vain to get us to talk but we were having none of it. We were too busy plotting our revenge on each other. It was much more fun to sit and condemn Isaac for his rashness than look into myself and realize I was out of line too. Zac was in his own world but from the gleam in his eye I knew that he was thinking of a new drum solo. He excused himself as soon as was socially acceptable and headed for his room to bang on his practice drumheads. He didn’t want to drag a whole set up of drums to and from the studio so he bought a set of drumheads to use at home for now.

I was forced to help clean up the kitchen with Isaac and we moved around the space near the sink without actually touching each other. When you fight like we do, battle lines are drawn and space is taken from the warring sides at all times. Unfortunately those musical genes got in the way and as soon as we heard Zac’s pulsing beat our minds started reeling. The good part about being brothers is that you can finish each other’s thoughts without even realizing it. I was picking out melodies and sampling lyrics before I even realized it. Isaac was too; he had that same gleam in his eye. The two of us raced to get the acoustic guitar and portable keyboard before our minds forgot our thoughts.

After we got the new hook in place we headed back to the studio. All thoughts of our previous World War forgotten.

~*~*~

About an hour into our late night recording session I got bored and headed to the laptop. And this begins my story of incredible luck and unbelievable probability.

Due to the fact that my brothers and most of the rest of my family use both the PC at home and the laptop we travel with, I have my own set of favorite links and email addresses. I learned about covering your tracks on the Internet from a cousin of mine. Not that I try to hack into major business conglomerates or anything but I just don’t like that someone can find out where I go on the Internet or who I talk to. I have three or four different email addresses and one of my favorites is a Yahoo! address. I use their address book feature to keep up with my favored links. I put the title of the page in the ‘Name’ category and put the URL in the ‘email’ address category. Not really James Bond stuff here, but I do my best.

Looking up from the hum and buzz of the modem logging on, I saw Isaac trying in vain to untangle the wires in the studio. I laughed under my breath and brought my gaze back to the screen. Logging into my yahoo account I saw that I had no new email. Into the address book I went and cut and pasted one of the links I regularly keep up with. Not only did the webauthor update regularly but she also had a great sense of humor to bring us back to reality.

This webauthor wrote an amazingly thorough concert review of our performance at the Red Rocks Amphitheater. I linked up to her update page and saw that she put up a link to something about a tribute to someone called ‘Llama.’ Isaac was still fighting with the miles of wire on the floor so I figured I had time to check it out. Little did I know what it would lead to.

~*~*~

I laughed at first. These two girls made it sound like this Llama person was a saint. I read through the accounts and was touched at the friendship I saw there but I still had to laugh. They made her writing seem as if it was Pulitzer Prize-winning material. I read the few quotes that were taken from her fanfiction writing. As I brought the mouse around to scroll down the page I saw that the banners for the stories were links. I clicked on the top story and was brought to a chapter index. We usually hear of the major fanfiction writers from Ashley or each other. We usually laugh at them because they're so not like us most of the time. After reading the start of her first story though, I stopped laughing. She was good, really good.

I got through the first part of it before the evils of technology laughed at me. Isaac pulled on a wire that, he says, he thought was part of his electronic notebook. It was the wire to the laptop and my screen blinked out. I stared at the screen for a second thinking it was a webpage problem but when Isaac said, "oops." I knew it was unfixable. Just my luck.

The rest of the night was uneventful. We went through the motions of laying down the basics of two new songs we had written. The studio’s air conditioning unit goes off at midnight so we try to be out of there by then. If you don’t get out by then you will broil right in your seat. After all, this is Los Angeles.

~*~*~

Back at the house I was attacking my computer. Yahoo services were down so I was trying to remember the URL for the Llama’s webpage. I knew it was something that had Hanson in the title but I could not for the life of me remember what the other word was. I tried everything before my mother silently came into the room. I was too busy frantically trying different domain names to notice her come in but I felt her hands rest on my shoulders, "Taylor I am going to tie you to your bed if you don't get some rest."

"Sorry. I got caught up in a page. I’m heading off now."

"What were you looking at?"

"Nothing much, just a story. I wanted to email the author but I lost the link."

"Taylor I really wish you wouldn’t. You don’t know who is on the other end of your conversation." My mother had yet to catch up with the technology of the times. Unfortunately she let the news reports of people getting kidnapped by psychopaths on the Internet get into her head. I didn’t even try to explain the Internet to her again. I gave up for the night and slipped out of the computer room. I climbed into bed and let sleep invade my mind. For the first time in months I went to sleep thinking of something other than music.

~*~*~

The next morning I was up before the rest of the family and headed immediately to the PC. I quietly got up to shut the door to the computer room for fear that my ‘on the side of the technology highway in a broken down VW van’ mother would find me again.

I logged onto the page, unconsciously tensing, possibly at the thoughts of someone in the family spying on me. Again I turned around in the swivel, plush office chair. The door was shut, looked no different from the last time I turned around. I curled up and read... and read and read and read. I couldn't get enough of it. I felt like I was becoming addicted.

~*~*~

That was amazing. I just sat and stared at the screen for a minute. Not that the ending was a huge twist or a big discovery but it was so well written that it just blew me away.

I pulled myself into my own thoughts for a time before I gave up and shut down the computer. I could hear the house waking up around me and hurried to get lost in the morning routine.

I slung the laptop case over my shoulder and headed for the van while my not-quite-awake brothers trailed behind me.

"Boys! Did you say good-bye to your mother? Remember that she’s going back home for a few days." Isaac and Zac nodded their heads but I only dropped the case onto the passenger seat and ran back into the house. Caught up in my own thoughts, I had forgotten that my mother was visiting a friend who had been sick lately. My father was just dropping us at the studio and coming back to take over the brood for my mother.

Of course my mother was not about to let me get away with a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug. She kept me in a hug and said, "Be careful. Please. You just don’t know who’s out there." I silently rolled my eyes but promised to be careful.

~*~*~

It was a busy day in the studio so I didn’t get back on the computer until we were back at the house. I closed the door and headed back to read more from my newfound favorite author. I felt guilty for quietly rejoicing that my mother wasn’t there to complain but all thoughts of that vanished when I clicked onto the page. I debated all day whether or not to email this girl. I wasn’t sure whether or not I wanted to find out who she really was and be disappointed. I had a picture in my head and I didn’t want to have her be a screaming fan that wanted to show off my autograph. I started reading Just One of Those Things and was excited to see she continued on with her Taylor character and Marissa. I sat back in the chair, debating whether or not to email her. I was mindlessly drumming my fingers on the desk and debating when Isaac came in and announced supper. We had moved past our fighting the day before as if nothing happened. That was one of the joys of being so close. The fights never really last that long. The drawback to that would be that our fights, when we have them, are brutal. I know just how to get to Isaac and he knows just how to get to me. Zac is really the only one who goes with the flow. Since our first embarking on our promo tour when Middle of Nowhere came out he’s grown up quite a bit. He knows that all of us, including the rest of our family, are in the same boat; after three months on the road answering the same questions, life gets boring. Very boring.

I looked back at Isaac, standing at the door, "What are we having?"

"Usual for dad. American chop-suey."

I laughed, "Is there anything other than American chop-suey that he can make." My father is addicted to the stuff. It’s pasta with tomato soup and hamburger in it. It’s good the first fifty thousand times you have it but after that it gets pretty old.

"Did he at least make a salad or something?" It’s a sad day in the Hanson family when I’m looking for vegetables to eat.

After dinner I helped with the kitchen and did the required amount of family bonding time before I took the stairs three at a time to the computer.

The server was slow so I ended up waiting around for twenty minutes before I could log on. Twenty very long and very boring minutes to debate over whether or not to take the big step and email.

I had the radio on in the computer room. A rarity when I am in the studio. I’m so afraid any given song is going to influence me in my writing and I’ll get sued for copyright infringement. Hey, I worry about these things. Not even Hansons are perfect.

I bit the bullet and started writing. I had to laugh at myself. Girls literally, throw themselves at me all the time but I was breaking out in hives thinking of what to write in an email.

Hello. God I sound like an idiot. She’s going to think I’m a freak. I found your webpage through a tribute that your friends wrote for you. Can we say desperate, anyone? ARGH! I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed your stories. And my mommy lets me out for ice cream if I’m really good.

I felt like such an idiot writing it.

I have finished Glint of Heaven and am currently reading Just One Of Those Things. This is so sad. I sound like a moron. She probably emails like this constantly. She’s not even going to think twice about me. I really enjoy your writing style. ‘Enjoy your writing style’ What am I? Eighty? Geez, who talks like that?! I hope to hear from you soon. Yuppie much?

I blanked on a name. I couldn’t use my own name or any of my family members. For some reason the chief engineer at the studio, Doug popped into my head.

Thanks, Doug.

I put it into my draft folder and shut off the computer. Isaac wanted to go over a few notes that we made earlier in the day.

~*~*~

The next morning I got up to inspect my email and decide for the millionth time whether or not to send it out or not. I opened up my yahoo account and went into my draft folder. Empty. No, no you are not empty. I panicked. I backed up and look into my sent folder. God had a mighty hearty laugh at my expense that morning. Sent to Llamaesque@aol.com at 9:42 PST. I was positive that I did not hit the send button but I guess I did. I felt like throwing something. Just my luck to have my asinine email sent over the Internet to her. I was angry at myself for not using one of my AOL aliases so that I could unsend it. There was nothing in my Inbox so she either hadn’t read it or just saw me as an axe-wielding freak and deleted it immediately.

~*~*~

I was testy for the rest of the day. Pretty much everyone knew to stay away and I found a quiet corner in the room to settle in for the long haul. I put my headphones on; I was in the mood for blues. ‘I lost my three-legged dog, my wife left me, I just burnt my tongue on my dinner’ blues. Of course, I didn’t bring any of my blues CDs with me so I was stuck with Jessica’s Beach Boys CD. You can only take so much Help Me Rhonda before you want to throw her in the ocean and tell her to fend for herself.

"Taylor?" One of the engineers edged closer and handed me a paper and pen.

"What?" I looked down at the paper. Lunch time.

"We’re ordering out for pizza. Write down what toppings you want and we’ll get them."

I scribbled down pepperoni and handed it back to him. I managed a smile and said, "Thank you." Even though I was in a crappy mood, I didn’t want to be rude.

~*~*~

I walked into the house, "Where’s Mom? What are we having for dinner?"

Zac didn’t even look up from his Piers Anthony novel, "Laundry room. I don’t know." Zac freaks me out sometimes. He has the ability to think of way-too-many things at once. An interviewer barked at him once for it. He was trying to conduct an interview and Zac wanted to talk with a friend of his whom he hadn’t seen in a few months. He was facing sideways in his chair, talking when the interviewer finally gave up asking the question after four attempts.

"I asked you a question!" He barked.

Zac calmly turned and said, "I know you did but I was in the middle of a conversation with a friend of mine. The answer to your question is ‘no I do not have a girlfriend’ and if you read up our fact sheets you’d know that." He has a way of putting people in their place.

The interviewer was not giving up, "My you are very rude."

He faced the man and said, "Actually, I was taught it was rude to interrupt someone’s conversation but I guess we all aren’t brought up the same way, are we?"

Isaac and I just sat in awe. Zac was in the right, the guy was a complete jerk but headlines like "Zac Hanson spoiled brat!" were flashing across my eyes. The man quietly picked up his belongings and left the room. Miraculously it didn’t make it into the press but I still can’t figure out why not.

I found my mother folding the laundry out of the dryer. "You know we could hire someone to do the laundry for you."

"And have her steal your underwear and sell it on the Internet!? No. Besides whoever it would be would probably bleach out all the colors."

You had to laugh at Mom; she was definitely weird sometimes, "What’s for dinner?"

"Macaroni and cheese with broccoli. It should be done in about twenty minutes."

I started up the stairs on my way to check email. "Oh, could you set the table for me? Thanks." Dangit almost made it out without a chore.

I was setting the table with "The Llama Song" in my head. It’s one of those children’s songs that are on Zoë’s bedtime tapes. I never really paid attention to it before but for some reason it was in my head. I took it as a sign.

~*~*~

After dinner I scrambled for the computer slightly giddy. I’ve always been an outgoing person so getting the chance to talk to someone who I don’t see on a daily basis was a plus. I turned on the computer and ran to change into shorts while it booted up. Running back into the room I heard the clicking of the keys. Jessica was perched in front of the screen.

"You know I booted it up for me."

She turned around with her all-knowing glance, "Mom said I could have the computer. I finished all my homework and she said I could."

"Yes but I booted it up to check my email."

"Well you’re going to have to wait. I’m playing a game." When did she get such an attitude and why was she taking it out on me. I shook my head and turned toward the door, "I pity the poor guy who falls for you."

~*~*~

The next morning I knocked into the wall three times before I made it back into the computer room. There is nothing like overtired and not-yet-awake to throw off your balance.

Logging on to the computer I stretched out in the oversized computer chair. One of the weird things about renting someone’s house is that you get so used to someone else’s home. We’re lucky to find folding chairs to stick in front of the computer at home but this family has a nice plush office chair to sit in.

No New Mail

The computer was mocking me with its message. There had to be mail. She had to write to me. I could feel me ego taking over my mind. Doesn’t she know who you are? The nerve of her not to email you back! My identity should ooze right through that letter. I was peeved. I thought I’d get an answer back. Weren’t her friends boasting about how good she was at answering emails? Well obviously she wasn’t that good.

I hate not having my emails replied to. It always makes me feel rejected or something. It’s like trying to start conversation and being brutally rebuffed. I take it as a personal insult when I don’t get emails in response.

The day went pretty much the same way the others did. I was in a crappy mood. I don’t even know why one little email effected me so much. The lack of response and the fact that I barely slept and was on a caffeine-high constantly wasn’t making my mood much better. I drink so much soda to keep myself awake in the studio that at night; I lay in bed on a sugar high. I hate caffeine.

"Zac, pass me the Coke. I need to wake up."

Zac picked the bottle up out of the mini-refrigerator we had in the studio, "Why are you so moody today?"

"I have no idea," I yawned into my hand, "I think I’m just tired."

~*~*~

Late Friday night I checked my email out of habit. I had moved on and didn’t give a second thought to the Llama.

My yahoo account had two new email messages in it. One was from her, she finally replied. My night suddenly looked much better.

Hey, sorry it took a few days to reply but my 9-5 is killing me. J Thank you for your comments about the story. I enjoyed writing them and getting feedback on them is one of the perks of fanfiction. The tribute from Karen and Amanda was sweet. I can’t believe they did that. I hope you like the other stories as much as you liked Glint.

Llama

I sat back in the chair, trying to read between the lines. It seemed like a normal reply email but I wanted more. I hit the reply button and started to dissect the email to send back to her. I commented positively on her writing again. I also said that the tribute was a nice gesture by friends who ‘know your writing well.’ Cheesy, yes but I was pulling at straws. I just wanted her to reply again. Weird thing was, I don’t know why.

After I initially found the Llama’s website I read about her everywhere. It was as if I tapped into the secret idol of Hanson writing. I looked all through the Llama’s page to find out more about her. I couldn’t find anything about her personally so I went back to the tribute to find out who she was. I felt a ripple of guilt. I hate it when I find personal information about me on the Internet. I eventually found a picture and while it loaded I read the caption on the bottom, Which witch is which? The picture showed two girls staring at the camera, one blond and the other brunette. I studied the picture and couldn’t pick out who was who; I had never heard of this other Amanda but I scoured her page to find another picture and eliminate her from 50/50 chances. No luck. I was intrigued now though. I returned to my yahoo email and found that she had already replied to my reply.

Thank you for the flattery. I wonder what you want from me though. ;) Yes, the tribute was a wonderful gesture by my friends. I feel that way about both of them though. They, along with dozens of other writers, are my inspiration. I look to them to end the evils of writer’s block.

As for my writing, I enjoy it. It can be a good stress reliever while also a great contributor to my stress levels. J

Llama

I loaded up the AIM feature on the computer. I went in and added her name to the buddy list but couldn’t find her s/n listed.

Before I went down for dinner I set up the computer to print out the first few parts of Just One of Those Things.

~*~*~

I flopped down on my bed to start reading. It didn’t take me long to read those first parts and left me wanting more. I printed out the next few parts before I realized we were running dangerously low on paper for the printer.

Three days and many instances of groveling for paper later, I was on my way to reading the end of Just One of Those Things.

I sat back onto the thin blanket and sighed. I have always been a sucker for romance. I always wanted to be the guy with the dozen roses standing at the front door of my adored. My world was a bit bigger than that but my thoughts were still the same. I looked over at Isaac’s bed and wondered if he could ever live up to the Isaac that she wrote about. I turned the questioning back to myself and wondered if I could ever be the Taylor she wrote about. Normally when we read fanfiction we laugh because it’s so unrealistic. This didn’t seem that unrealistic though. It was as if she put her own feelings and thoughts into her writing. I couldn’t help but be enthralled by the words. I found myself wanting to be more like her Taylor. He seemed to perfect. I almost didn't want to meet her because I fear that I'd be a let down.

What if she found out I am still afraid of the dark sometimes? She'd probably run for the hills when she hears about my relish with tuna fetish.

~*~*~

I walked to the computer room and pulled up the chair. The screen started to materialize in front of me when I heard Isaac behind me, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I’m just surfing the web," Trying not to let my enthusiasm show. I wanted to tell Isaac about Llama’s writing but not now. Not until I had formed more of a friendship.

"Oh cool. I have some sites I want to look at too," He pulled up a metal chair and sat down beside me. Well that killed that, I thought.

I sat beside him for about ten minutes before I finally had to go. My fingers were itching to write an email to her. The chair wheeled against the plush carpeting as I stood up.

Isaac looked up from the screen to question me, "Where are you going?"

I looked into my brother’s eyes and lied to him. I know lying is bad and I wasn’t necessarily lying but I wasn’t telling the whole truth, "I’m going to the bathroom, nosy."

I walked out into the hall as if I were heading to the bathroom but just stood against the wall until I heard his fingers clicking against the keys. I walked quietly back down the stairs to retrieve the laptop.

~*~*~

I was cramped. The laptop was propped up on the sink, sitting on top of a towel and I was kneeling on the floor with only a ratty bath mat between the cold, hard tiled floor and my knees. Of course in a family of nine the bathrooms aren’t peaceful for long. I looked up from the screen when I heard a knock on the door. I rolled my eyes and yelled, "In here."

Mackenzie called in from the other side, "Wanna play kickball with me?"

I smiled, "In a while Mack, I’ll be out in a few minutes. When I get out we’ll play."

I scanned over what I had already written in the email:

Llama,

I have to say that I just finished Just One of Those Things and I loved it. I am sure that the guys themselves would like it too if they read it. I only hope that the guys can live up to your expectations. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you again that I think you are an amazing writer.

I signed my name as Doug and was about to send it when I heard another knock on the door. My mother’s voice filled the tiny room, "Taylor are you all right? Mackenzie said you’ve been in there awhile."

Figures. Leave it to Mom to embarrass me completely. I strained my neck and said, none to eagerly I hoped, "I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute. Mack just said that because I told him I’d play kickball with him."

I could picture her hesitating outside the door. Leaning into it a bit to hear better. Only after I heard her continue on the hall did I press the send button.

Before Mom sent in the Pepto I turned the computer off and unplugged it from the fixture on the wall.

Playing outside with Mackenzie I couldn’t help but think about whether or not she was reading my email. What did she think? Did she think I was crazy? I regretted everything I wrote but there was nothing I could do about it now. It was sent and now I just had to wait for her to reply.

I set up the laptop in the dining room after dinner and logged on. My mailbox had 2 messages, one from an update list that I was on and the other from Llama.

My head is going to explode with all the adoration you’re giving me. Thank you for the emails. I’m proud of my writing and I’m glad that you enjoy them. As for whether the guys have read them or not, I think they have better things to do than read my stories. J

I skimmed the last sentences and it was just more thanks. I loaded up AIM and crossed my fingers in hopes that she’d be on-line. Her name wasn’t on my buddy list but a friend told me that you can IM someone even if they’re hiding. I typed in her name on the blank IM and wrote in "Hi." Eloquent. Short, to the point.

The IM went through and I waited for a response. A few seconds later a "Hello" came back to me. I wrote in that I was Doug and she gave a "Oh! Hi! I didn’t know who I was talking to. J " I hate starting conversations. I get that feeling that I blabber on about nothing while the other person is just waiting for me to shut up. Unfortunately, Llama isn’t much of a conversationalist either. I was throwing random questions out, hoping for some spark. I didn’t want to gush about her writing so I asked her about her life. I knew that her name was Amanda and that she lived somewhere in the cow country of Vermont.

<Sunworshpr> So, are there still more cows than people in Vermont?

<Llamaesque> Hey! We surpassed the cow population in the late 60’s. Though we could still keep the Northeast fertilized for many years.

<Sunworshpr> I’m teasing. I’ve never been to Vermont so I just grabbed at the first thing that came to mind.

<Llamaesque> It’s okay. I freely admit that I live in the hippie haven portion of the country.

<Sunworshpr> I’m not good at this AIM thing. I always feel like the other person is laughing at everything I say.

<Llamaesque> Oh me too. I’m a bit shy anyway and if I don’t know the person well I always feel like I’m intruding on their computer time or something.

<Sunworshpr> Exactly!

<Llamaesque> Great Minds think alike.

<Sunworshpr> So, how did you get into Hanson?

<Llamaesque> Actually, Where’s the Love was the song that initially drew me in. I have to laugh. I've talked about this so many times. J I didn’t really like Mmmbop when it came out. It just didn’t strike any chords with me. After WTL, I was hooked though. I bought MoN and have been listening ever since.

<Sunworshpr> What made you write fanfiction? No offense but some people would see it as freakish.

<Llamaesque> Yeah, it is seen as freakish by some. I don’t see it that way. I see it as an outlet for many young writers. I write because it’s something I like to do. Hanson writes music because it’s something they like to do. I’m just using my creativity they way they use theirs.

I liked her answer. She gave me the link to her ‘defense of fan fiction’ page and I read it over. She was a very thorough person. She didn’t just say, "I write it because I like it." She explained why she writes and why others have written while not lashing out. I liked talking to her. She made me want to write stories and music better. Her vocabulary was so eloquent also, it made me want to break out the dictionary and start memorizing.

Our emails were replied to more often and I couldn’t help but hold my breath a bit when I logged into my email account. A few weeks had gone by and we had been emailing each other more often. We talked about our views on different subjects. One night while chatting I explained my views on life, in general.

<Sunworshpr> I feel like life is just a blank paper. You have to write in your own good times and bad times.

<Llamaesque> I feel somewhat the same way. I believe in fate to an extent. You have to make your own decisions and your own good times.

Sometimes I had to stop and think for a moment, this was insane. I was spending my day thinking about someone whom I have never met. How could I feel something so strong for someone that I had only spoken to through a computer? Is that possible? I guess my mother’s feelings toward the Internet were rubbing off on me. What did we have in common? Would she even want to meet me if she knew who I really was? How would react when she met me? I fell asleep at night with those questions flying around in my head. The most prominent question that floated through my brain was how would my family react? My mother would probably want me to cut all ties off and throw the computer out. My father would order the S.W.A.T. team to guard me at all times in case my real identity was uncovered.

Besides all of those questions though, I felt I was feeling better. We were getting to the part of the recording process where it’s not that much fun anymore and that is hard to deal with. Tempers run high, deadlines loom and the time for creativity has passed toward the end of recording. I hate ending anything. I get so absorbed into my own experiences that it cuts me deeply when something ends. When we record I get so entrenched in the everyday process of it all that I hate to see it stop. On the other hand I know that it would get boring after a time. I was trying to explain why I was moody one night to Amanda.

<Sunworshpr> I don’t know how to explain it. My job has me on-site working with an affiliate of ours. I love working everyday with these people. I don’t want to go back to my boring job. Who knows where the company will send me next? What if I hate it?

I was trying to associate what was happening in my life to the life of a normal twentysomething the best way I could.

<Llamaesque> I felt the same way last spring when I graduated from college. I liked my friends from school. I liked my comfortable life. Why rock the boat? Besides, my parents could support me forever, couldn’t they? ;)

<Llamaesque> I know what you mean though. I hate change. I am a firm believer in leaving things the way they are. I sympathize Doug, I know the feeling well.

I felt like I had made a connection with someone. It was an amazing feeling. I walked around for two days with a big goofy smile on my face. Amanda had continued talking me through my slight depression for over an hour. I only wished that I could talk to her about it and not just rely on my fingers tapping on the keyboard. While recording we brought a surplus of people with us. I figured that if I didn’t tell someone about Amanda soon I was going to bust out and announce it at the dinner table, not a good thing. So I pulled Ashley over one afternoon in the studio.

"Ash, can I talk to you tonight? Are you going out tonight?"

He looked confused by all the secrecy but said, "No. I’m home tonight. Why? Do you need something?" His eyebrows were knit which was not a good sign, "Are you in trouble?"

I frantically tried to backpedal, "Oh no, nothing like that. I just need someone to talk to about something." I tried to give him a pathetic and innocent look to lock in his answer.

He walked away with his video camera dangling around his neck, confused. I rolled my eyes and went back to the tasks of the day.

~*~*~

I was pacing in the living room. Ashley was late, not that that isn’t a new thing, Ash is always late but I had called him to make sure that he remembered.

"Tay, when did you become so schizophrenic, I’ll be there in awhile. Let me eat first!" I thought of offering to make him a sandwich just to get him here faster but he’d probably yell at me for that. J

Avery came into the living room and plopped down on the couch. I stared at her with probing eyes, "What are you doing?"

"I have to finish my spelling homework." I noticed that she had a notebook and pencil with her. Damn. I can’t kick her out for that. Mom’ll know something’s up.

I tried to sit down on the chair, facing the window but that only made me more crazy. I saw headlights reflect into the window and I jumped up. I yelled a lame excuse over my shoulder while I sailed out the door. Running down the steps I intercepted Ash as he was climbing out of the driver’s seat.

"Tay, what is wrong with you?!"

I tried to shrug it off, "Nothing. Why? I just wanted to drive your car."

He didn’t buy it but he didn’t push me either, "All right. Do you have your license on you?" Shit.

I lied, "Yeah." I wasn’t about to go back into the house for it. I would have gotten attacked by some family member who wanted to play twenty questions.

Ash was fastening his seatbelt when he started with the questions, "What is going on? You’re acting like you should have the Mission: Impossible theme playing."

"You have to promise that you’re not going to tell anyone, that includes Mom or Dad. I know they’re your employers but you have to promise." I was trying to watch traffic while also trying to give him the evil eye. The last thing I needed was to have my parents grilling me about Amanda.

He thought for a minute, "As long as you’re not in danger I won’t tell your parents. If you’re in danger than I can’t keep it from them." He looked over at me, "Why aren’t you talking to Isaac anyway? You two are always talking about everything together."

I sighed, "Yeah, I know. I just don’t want anyone to know just yet. I don’t know how to explain it. Let me tell you first, I think you’ll understand then."

I pulled off to the side of the road and handed the keys over to Ash. I hate that obnoxious bing that starts when you leave your keys in the ignition.

I gave him all the background information about Amanda and he interjected that he had seen her post on the newsgroup. He said that she seemed intelligent and he couldn’t see her as a potential mass-murderess. Thoughts of a blond with a MOE tank top on running at me with an axe flashed through my head. I smiled.

I had to appreciate Ashley. He could tell that this was a difficult subject and rushing his judgement before I could even finish would break me.

I gave him the best description I could think of for my situation. How do you characterize it? Guy falls in love with computer? Not quite but sometimes it felt like that. Sometimes I’d have these horrible thoughts that this is just a sick joke and Llamaesque was just a computer program or really a man or something.

Ashley sighed, "Well, I thought it was something much worse than this. I can deal with this." He smiled, "Your mother is going to flip though. I don’t know how you’re going to explain this to her."

I leaned my head back against the seat, "I know. Maybe I’ll just send her an invitation to our wedding in the mail or something."

"Uh, wedding?"

I laughed, "I was teasing. Calm down. I just want to talk to her now."

"You really like her though?"

"Yeah, I do. It’s odd though. I don’t really know her. How weird is it to feel something for someone you don’t even know." It is odd. I’d wake up in the morning knowing that I was dreaming about her but not knowing what she really looked like. I’d seen a few pictures but you can’t really know what a person looks like from just a few Polaroids. It’s very odd to dream without a face to dream about.

Ash cleared his throat, "So what are you going to do?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I want to talk to her though. See what she’s like."

"Tay, honestly man, she’s like…23. I’m all for ending age discrimination but you are still only 16."

I tapped my hands on the steering wheel, "Yeah, I know. I just feel like the least we could be is friends."

Ash leaned his head back against the seat and sighed, "Your mother is going to freak."

I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, "I know."

Ash was staring at the ceiling but asked, "So I assume you want me to track down the number, right?"

"Please! I would be forever in your debt if you did."

Pulling the car door open, "I’ll see what I can do. You’re going to owe me big-time for this though."

~*~*~

I turned the crumpled piece of paper in my hand yet again. This was not easy. I felt like a complete idiot for even thinking about calling her. The same questions that had been haunting me for over a month were now coming back. What if she knows it’s me? What if she doesn’t? What if she’s not who I think she is? What if she thinks I’m an idiot?

I pulled the cellular phone off its cradle and leaned back against the door. The last thing I needed was someone to walk in on the conversation.

I dialed the numbers and crossed my fingers. My back was leaning up against the wall and I was praying for her to pick up.

An adult voice answered, "Hello?"

I tried my best to lose my Sometimes Southern accent, "Hi. I’m looking for Amanda."

"Yes, hold on one second." I tensed up, hoping that he didn’t ask who was calling. In the background I heard him say, "Mandy pick up the phone." So she likes being called Mandy.

I heard her take a breath and say, "Hello."

I stuttered for a few seconds and panicked. I hit the on/off button and dropped the phone.

After a few seconds of intense panicking, my heart rate starting going back down. I smiled to myself, happy with the fact that I had heard her voice. I was in the middle of my own euphoria when I leaned back and whacked my head on the door. What a way to ruin a moment.

~*~*~

After dinner I booted up the computer and logged on AIM. I was checking my email when Amanda popped up on the screen with a message. "Boo"

<Sunworshpr> Hey.

<Llamaesque> What’s up?

<Sunworshpr> Nothing much. Just got finished eating. I have to go back through some paperwork but I can chat for a few minutes. What’s new?

<Llamaesque> Nothing much. My job is still completely tedious. I got a weird phone call though. Some idiot breathed deeply into the phone and hung up. I’m guessing it was just some random idiot but my dad’s freaking out. He’s now convinced I’m under attack by predators and peeping toms.

<Sunworshpr> That’s weird. Maybe it was just a wrong number or something.

<Llamaesque> Well they asked for me by name. Haha. Maybe it was Ed McMahon giving me my millions of dollars and he had a stroke or something. J

<Sunworshpr> Can I have some of those millions when they send you the check?

<Llamaesque> Of course. I’ll buy you a new life.

I sent back a smiley-face but I said to the computer screen, "You have no idea how much I’d want that."

~*~*~

I sent her an email a few weeks later when we finished recording. I explained that I might not be on the computer as much due to my job change but that I’ll email as often as possible.

I got this reply:

Well I will try my best to reply in an orderly and prompt manner. J I wish you luck in your new job. I hope it’s not as bad as this one. ;)

Because of the press we had to do to promote the upcoming CD, I didn’t have much time to get online. I tried my best to reply to the emails but I was falling behind. On one of my sporadic days off I dragged the laptop with me outside and put it on the picnic table. I hadn’t yet gotten to log into my Yahoo mail when Amanda IMed me. I got a little jumpy feeling in my stomach.

<Llamaesque> Hey!

<Sunworshpr> Hi. Sorry if I’m not talkative but I just saw the last episode of the Wonder Years and it bugged me.

<Llamaesque> Oh! I never saw the last episode. What happened?

<Sunworshpr> ::shaking head:: I’ll just give you the highlights. Winnie and Kevin have a huge fight and end up hitchhiking back home. In the process of the fight they throw each other’s clothes out in the street and it starts to rain. They find a barn for shelter and end up sleeping there for the night. Bob Seger’s "We’ve Got Tonight" plays while they each talk about how people grow up and grow away. Needless to say, it’s incredibly sad. They promise to keep in touch. They flash to Kevin narrating the future. Winnie goes away to study art in Paris. They keep their promise to stay in touch and for eight years they write to each other every week. Kevin goes to the airport to meet Winnie…

<Llamaesque> And…? You’re killing me here Doug.

<Sunworshpr> Along with him is his wife and first son.

<Llamaesque> Oh.

<Sunworshpr> I’m peeved. I feel like I was cheated or something. I waited for so many seasons to see if they got married and lived happily ever after! I, personally, feel gypped. I am a firm believer in happily ever after.

<Llamaesque> I have to say that I am also a firm believer in happily ever after too. I also long for "Dark and stormy nights" too. J

<Sunworshpr> Great minds think alike. J

But a part of me wanted her to know. Sometimes I veiled the words in my emails and while chatting so that she could somehow know without me telling her. I knew that it was risky to find out who I was but I couldn’t help it. I wanted her to like me for me and not for someone the someone she thought I was.

<Sunworshpr> Not only that but I they played Bob Seger’s "We’ve Got Tonight." That has to be one of the all-time top romantic songs of all time.

<Llamaesque> ::sheepishly:: I don’t think I know that song. I’ve heard of it but I can’t really remember it.

<Sunworshpr> Well, here, let me try and find you an MP3.

I don’t think Magellan put out a better search than I did. I was going to find an MP3 of that song if it killed me. I wanted Amanda to hear it and hear it from me. I looked through all the major search engines and finally found it after twenty minutes of searching. I downloaded it to my computer, zipped it and sent it through email. It took forever to get to her though. AOL is incredibly slow with downloading. I slipped my Greatest Hits CD in and put the song on.

<Llamaesque> Got it. I’m turning it on now.

I started the song over and sat back in the chair to listen to it. There was something very cool about listening to the song together. It made me feel like I was right there with her. I took a chance.

<Sunworshpr> This song just begs to be danced too.

<Llamaesque> Haha. I was just thinking that! Well, I guess it’s the stuffed Llama and me for that. At least he doesn’t get scared away by my bunny slippers. J

<Sunworshpr> Hehe. Bunny slippers are a good thing. ::evil grin::

<Llamaesque> So you won’t run away from my flannel P.Js and bunny slippers?

What’s this? Are we flirting? This was definitely making my day.

<Sunworshpr> Are you insane? There is nothing sexier than a woman in pajamas!! I have an unnatural love of flannel too. There is nothing better than hugging someone wearing flannel.

<Llamaesque> Do you want to get married? ;) I feel the same way. Living in Vermont means you have to own as much flannel as you can.

<Sunworshpr> Hey, I’d have no problem living in Vermont. I’m not a huge beach fan…the screenname is just a ruse, I am happiest curled up in a flannel comforter with a book.

<Llamaesque> J We were meant to be together!

I dropped the bomb.

<Sunworshpr> Have you ever met anyone from online?

I knew the answer to the question but I wanted to plant the seed of possibility in her head.

<Llamaesque> Haha…I think the question is, who *haven’t* I met from online? I’ve met so many friends through the computer. Some of them were a bit freaky but most of them I still keep in touch with. Normally I wouldn’t drive anywhere near Massachusetts but the Southern Amanda lives there and I make the trek somewhat regularly. Have you met anyone?

<Sunworshpr> Cool. Actually no but there’s someone I am thinking of meeting up with. I just wanted to know if you had.

<Llamaesque> Yup. I have. It is a bit weird at the beginning but I’ve had good luck and it just clicks after a few minutes. I’ve talked to the people I’ve met for a long time though. I talked to my friend Karen over two years before Amanda and I met her. It’s all about the person.

<Sunworshpr> I feel like I know this person pretty well and I just have the urge to meet them and talk to them without having to write my words. Emotion is lost somewhere in the wires.

<Llamaesque> Yeah it is. I have no idea how Amanda did it.

<Sunworshpr> ?

<Llamaesque> I don’t know if you talk to Amanda (Aurora) or not but please don’t tell her I told you this. She met her boyfriend through the computer. She started by emailing each other then they IMed each other. They moved onto the phone and then met. Those two have their own happily ever after.

<Sunworshpr> Interesting. Cool that they are together though. How did they know each other?

<Llamaesque> They were both part of a newsgroup for Hanson. He started it actually. I guess they met through that. So, inadvertently, Hanson brought them together. J

<Sunworshpr> That is really cool. I bet the guys would be happy to hear that.

<Llamaesque> Haha. I think they have better things to do than learning about us, little people.

<Sunworshpr> Why do you keep saying that? They do like to hear stories like that, I think. Why wouldn’t they like to hear about their fans?

<Llamaesque> I just think that they have other things to do such as recording, interviews, performing, practicing, things that matter.

<Sunworshpr> Yes they do need to take time for stuff like that but don’t you think they’d like to hear about the human side of it too.

<Llamaesque> Yeah, I guess so. It just seems like they should be doing more important things.

<Sunworshpr> Hey the last narration of the Wonder Years show is pretty powerful. I just found a transcript of it, wanna see?

<Llamaesque> Yeah. Lay it on me.

<Sunworshpr> Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day you're in diapers, the next day you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place... A town... a house like a lot of houses... A yard like a lot of other yards.... On a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is... After all these years, I still look back ... with WONDER.

<Credits roll, with voiceover>

Young boy's voice: Hey Dad, wanna play catch? Narrator (Kevin): I'll be right there.

<Llamaesque> Oh! That is so sweet. I’m listening to that song again and it made it that much greater to read it with the music going. I can relate to that though. Childhood is gone before you even realize it.

<Sunworshpr> I just turned on the radio and "There She Goes" just came on the radio. For some reason it makes me think of you. J

<Llamaesque> I love that song! They play it all the time up here but it’s still a great song.

<Sunworshpr> J Some trivia for you. Who sang it the song originally? I’ll give you a hint. They were a British one-hit wonder.

<Llamaesque> They announced it up here but I can’t remember. It’s not the Spencer Davis Group, is it? J

<Sunworshpr> No, the Spencer Davis Group was in the sixties. Steve Winwood was in that band. They were a one-hit wonder but, wrong decade. It came out in the late eighties. The group was the La’s.

<Llamaesque> I’m not that great with names. J I can barely remember the words to songs. I just hum along and hope for the best.

<Sunworshpr> Music is just a hobby of mine. I follow the music of the day and know a lot of about the past rock n’ roll. J

I had to cut the conversation short due to a magazine interview. I promised myself that I would talk to Isaac. It was time to tell him the truth about why I was acting so weird.

The interview was straightforward, same questions, different day. It gets incredibly boring after awhile but we know that you have to take the good with the bad. The recording is the good and listening to repetitive monotonous questions is the bad.

~*~*~

I cornered Isaac in the hallway of the hotel. I asked him if he wanted to get a Coke with me. Isaac was suspicious but he knew I’d tell him what was going on at some point.

"Are you going to give me the info now?"

I took a deep breath and started. I barely took a breath and was fumbling to get the words out. I just wanted to get it out to find out his reaction. Isaac took it all in and took his sweet time giving me an opinion.

We were on our way back from the soda machine (neither of us were thirsty). Isaac started to say something but he clamped his mouth shut again.

"What? Come on, Isaac. Please."

"Well…what can I say? You’ve already gotten entrenched with this girl. Do you know her name? Where she lives? How old she is?"

"Amanda. Southern Vermont." I took a breath, "23"

That got a reaction, "23?! Tay, that’s like…6 years difference."

"Come on. You’re always fighting against age discrimination."

He saw through my pathetic attempt at rationalizing, "Don’t pull that with me. We were fighting for respect in the industry, not whether or not you can fool around with a twenty-three year old."

It was going well. I got defensive, "So? She’s twenty-three. So that makes her off-limits? Since when did you become my father, anyway?" I was yelling now. I don’t even know why. Isaac was only trying to get me to see the truth.

"Tay, knock it off. You have no idea who this person is. Don’t get all defensive over someone you’ve never met."

"So now you’re saying because I haven’t met her I can’t be friends with her?"

Isaac rolled his eyes, "I think it’s more than that and you know it."

I walked away. Just before I opened my door I called over my shoulder, "At least read her writing before you break out the matches to burn her at the stake."

~*~*~

I was writing out an interview questionnaire in my room when Isaac came in. It was a few days after our argument and I had seen Isaac log onto Amanda’s site. I was ecstatic that he gave her the benefit of the doubt and awaiting his opinion.

He leaned against the table, "She killed Zac."

That woke me up, "Excuse me?"

"I take it you haven’t made it through her story, Lived, have you?"

"No, I haven’t. I wanted to but I just haven’t had time."

"Yeah, she killed off our brother. That’s just sick, Tay." He looked out the window and quietly said, "You still want to meet her now?"

We have a large hatred for fiction that kills us or our family off or puts them in perilous situations just for fun. Usually we just skip over them and try not to think about it but it’s still disturbing to think that someone has written a story that kills you or someone you love.

I felt like the breath had been sucked out of me. I immediately plugged in the laptop and waited. I vowed that I wasn’t moving from the chair until I got an explanation. I couldn’t believe that someone that I had grown close to would write something like that. Wasn’t she the one who always took our feelings into account? Banishing fans who overstep the boundaries of privacy? I skimmed through Lived while trying not to explode and start pitching furniture around the room. The story was extremely well written but I couldn’t help the churning in my stomach. How could she kill my brother? When I read the radio interlude of the death I wasn’t surprised to feel tears sliding down my cheeks. I got up and locked the door to my room. I walked back to the desk while rubbing my face against my sleeve in an attempt to brush away the tears. I curled up on the chair and willed my eyes to look at the screen. I wanted to see what else she had to say. I had to stop reading when I saw the account of my mother. What kind of person would write something like this? I felt like everything Amanda had told me was a lie. The tears were blurring the words on the screen and I cut the connection. I toyed with the idea of calling Amanda and finding out why she would do this to me.

I was pacing the room, trying to figure out what to do. I had turned the computer back on but couldn’t bring myself to look at the words on the screen. Would she recognize my voice? I thought of asking Ashley if I sound different on the phone but he’d want to be here when I called and I just wasn’t ready for that yet. I wanted to confront this alone.

I couldn’t believe it though. How could someone I had become so friendly with be so cruel? I was a basket case by the time my father came to call me for dinner.

"What’s wrong?" I averted his eyes, "Nothing."

"Taylor you haven’t been able to lie since you has the strawberry incident when you were four. Spill it."

The strawberry incident was one of my parents’ favorite get-together stories. My grandparents had brought over a basket of strawberries for us but told us to wait ‘til dinner to eat them. Me being me, I dove right into the basket. With strawberries caked on my face and hands I attempted to cover my actions to the adults.

My father sternly asked, "Taylor did you eat any of the strawberries?"

With my platinum blond hair and puppy dog blue eyes, I lied to my elders. Yes, lied, flat out no buts about it lied. "No." Of course what parent would pass up a Kodak moment like this. Somewhere in the mountain of photo albums is me, showing my hands to the camera, trying desperately to lick the strawberries off my face.

I sighed, "It’s just that someone who I thought was my friend turned out to be a liar. It’s okay though. I’m fine. It was just a shock, really."

My father raised his eyebrows and walked toward the door, "Well, when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here."

~*~*~

I vaulted myself into my room, complaining of a stomachache. The computer was left on and I logged onto the Net. AIM was loaded up and IMed Amanda. Not logged on. Damnit I stayed online until it was three-a.m. Los Angeles time. I saw Amanda log on and I furiously hit the keys.

<Sunworshpr> YOU KILLED ZAC?!?!?!

<Llamaesque> Huh?

<Sunworshpr> Lived is about Zac dying! How could you do that? Do you think Hanson likes reading crap like that?!

<Llamaesque> First of all, I’d appreciate you not calling it crap. If you don’t like the story, you don’t have to read it. Second of all, I think it was written in a mature way and that it was done with respect to the characters. It is fiction; I don’t wish Zac dead.

<Sunworshpr> But you wrote that he died! How sick are you? What possessed you to do that!

<Llamaesque> You know I really think you’re overreacting. It’s just a story.

<Sunworshpr> Yes but why would you write it? Why would you write about the death of someone who is real and living?

Amanda went on to describe the story behind Lived and I noticed that there were tears streaming down my face for the second time that day. I couldn’t even begin to imagine my best friend being killed like that. I didn’t even want to imagine that. I felt like such an ass for jumping to conclusions. If nothing else, this brought me closer to her. Writing Lived was her own form of healing. I was honored that she felt that she could share such a painful account with me but I felt like a jerk for forcing her to tell me because I was an ass. I could only sit on my side of the world, with horrible images of a girl crying over the death of a loved one. I pictured Amanda buried under mountains of blankets, trying to shut out the brutal reality of the world. I apologized profusely for acting like a jerk and she accepted but I couldn’t help the sliver of guilt that had wedged itself into my heart.

~*~*~

The next few months went by quickly. Promotional stops all over the world and living out of a suitcase again were not my favorite way to spend the springtime. I kept up with Amanda as best I could. With me flying all over the world though, it was making it difficult to get online at times when she was online. We were opening up to each other more. She admitted that she hates the thoughts of being confined in a nine to five job for the rest of her life. She wants to go back to school and get her teaching degree. I told her that I thought that was a good idea.

<Sunworshpr> Honestly, do something you want to do. Don’t settle for a job just because. It’s not worth the agony and stress.

<Llamaesque> Yeah, I know but thoughts of going back to that Dave Matthews induced, marijuana tinted prison are not my idea of a fun time.

<Sunworshpr> I thought you liked college?

<Llamaesque> I did and I do. Just the thoughts of going back to deadlines for papers and theses are just not my idea of a good time.

<Sunworshpr> You can handle it, I know you can. Besides, you have me to vent to. J

<Llamaesque> I know. J Thank you. I appreciate me being able to vent at you. J

<Sunworshpr> You know that C’est La Vie song just came on the radio. I have to admit that I am getting into it. Someone help me!

<Llamaesque> I must admit that I have a soft spot for the Moffatts too. J I just can’t help it.

<Sunworshpr> I’ll keep your secret, if you keep mine.

Flirting again, this was a good thing.

<Llamaesque> Deal.

~*~*~

One afternoon our outdoor photo shoot was rained out so I had some unexpected free time off. After swimming with the rest of the family I retreated into my room and attempted reading. I was not going to become obsessed with the Internet. The squishy feeling in my stomach when I opened my email was spreading to more of my day. Whenever I saw the name Amanda, saw anything remotely like Vermont, or saw an episode of the Wonder Years.

I put the book down and started thinking about asking the unavoidable question. We were playing at a radio promotional concert in Boston in a few months so I knew that that was my chance to meet her. I still didn’t know if she even liked me though. The little voice in the back of my head kept asking What if she likes Isaac? She seemed to express her liking of Doug but I could get past it if she liked someone else other than him. I couldn’t get past it if I showed up to meet her and she said, "Oh damn. I was hoping you were your brother." I'm already halfway to the psychiatrist’s couch as it is. I don't need that sending me over the edge.

I got up off the bed and accepted my mission. I was about to find out the finer points of Amanda the Llama. Luckily, she was online. I didn’t feel like waiting all night to start my mission. I’d probably lose my nerve long before then.

<Llamaesque> Hey. How are you?

<Sunworshpr> Pretty good. You?

<Llamaesque> Not bad. Got out of work a bit early. I’m sure I’ll have to pay penance by faxing pounds of documents tomorrow though. J

Normally I would have asked her more in-depth about her day but I was too anxious to get to the good stuff.

<Sunworshpr> J So, there’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you for awhile. If you had to choose between the three brothers, which would you choose?

<Llamaesque> As in for a relationship?

<Sunworshpr> Yeah.

She took her sweet time answering too. I was ready to put my hand through the screen to get the answer when the IM finally popped up.

<Llamaesque> I’m sure I’m breaking the children laws in many states but I’d have to say Taylor.

I outwardly sighed. My body had tensed waiting for her response and when she gave it the air was sucked out of me. I stood up to walk off the excess energy and ended up bouncing up and down on the bed for a few seconds. I couldn’t help it. I was happy. When I finally got control of myself I calmly walked back to the computer and wrote, "J "

<Llamaesque> Why do you ask? Do you have a favorite?

<Sunworshpr> No reason, just curious. I, personally lean toward Taylor. I just think he’s the unappreciated one. No one really cares what he thinks; he’s just the supposed "heartthrob" of the group. They don’t care to know him as more than that.

<Llamaesque> I feel the same way. Plus I just think he’s a perfect specimen of humanity.

<Sunworshpr> Perfect? I think not. What if you found out he was still afraid of the dark? Or that he liked weird foods?

<Llamaesque> As I said, he’s the perfect specimen of *humanity* He’s human, just like the rest of us. I’m still afraid of the dark too. Who else in the world likes chocolate cake with applesauce other than me? These would just be traits that would make me like him more. I’d be intimidated by him if he were completely perfect.

<Sunworshpr> What if you found out he still slept with a blanket from childhood?

<Llamaesque> Uh, Doug. You haven’t seen my bed. I can barely fit into it with all the stuffed animals piled on.

I was biting my lip, trying to scare up the courage to tell her that I wanted to meet her. I didn’t want to scare her off but I couldn’t be so close to Vermont and not at least attempt seeing her.

<Sunworshpr> So…I want to ask you something but you have to promise not to scream or run away.

<Llamaesque> Haha…okay.

<Sunworshpr> Would you ever consider meeting?

<Llamaesque> J I thought you’d never ask! Of course I want to meet you. We’ve been talking for over six months now. I’d love to.

For the second time that day and probably only the fifth time in my whole lifetime, I jumped up and down on the bed. It took me a bit longer to calm down this time I was just a wee bit excited. I got back to the computer and saw that Amanda had written:

<Llamaesque> Doug? Did I scare you off?

<Sunworshpr> Oh, sorry, my dinner was burning.

<Sunworshpr> But, anyway, Hanson is going to be in Boston for a promotional thing in June. A radio concert.

<Llamaesque> Oh, really, Amanda hasn’t said anything. I hope it’s on a weekend though or I won’t be able to go down.

<Sunworshpr> I don’t have the exact date yet but I’m pretty sure it’s on a weekend. One of the perks of my job is that I get tickets to these things. How many tickets will you need?

<Llamaesque> Oh man, I don’t know. If it’s in Boston I can’t go without taking Amanda and I’m sure Karen (a friend from NJ) would want to come up. Of course, only if you can get that many tickets. I don’t want you getting in trouble at work.

<Sunworshpr> Four tickets it is. I’ll start working on it now.

I opened the door to my room and ran down the hall. I lightly knocked on Ash’s door and hoped that he was inside. Nothing. I knocked a little louder. Nothing. Finally I was pounding on the door. I started back down the hall when I heard his door open. I grabbed Ash’s partially awake arm and dragged him back down to my room.

"Damnit Tay, I could kill you for this. I just fell asleep."

"Please Ash, I’ve never asked you for anything before."

He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, "Obviously this is about Amanda then."

"Yeah. Anyway, about the promo in Boston. Can you get three tickets for me? Backstage passes too if you could. Please?"

"Ohmygod! Taylor why don’t you just ask for the Taj Mahal while you’re at it." My mind flitted back to the allusion that Amanda made to the Taj Mahal. I smiled. I couldn’t wait to meet her; she was invading every thought in my head.

"PLEASE!"

"If I say I’ll try will you let me go back to bed?"

"Just try. Please. That’s all I can ask for." He shuffled off, muttering under his breath. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I sat down on the bed and tried to sort out the details. I’d have to make up an excuse as to why I couldn’t be there with her at the concert.

<Llamaesque> Doug? You there?

<Sunworshpr> Yeah. Sorry. Someone was at the door. My friend is here and I have to go. I’ll catch you later though.

~*~*~

The next six weeks were sheer madness. The CD was released and the appearances we were making were brutal, two to three cities in one day. The one thing that kept me sane was that I’d get to meet Amanda in Boston. Ashley and Isaac jokingly called Boston "Ground Zero." I had explained all the reasons behind Lived and Isaac seemed to accept it.

Isaac was sprawled out on his bed in his room, "Why would she write about such a traumatic experience though?"

"Why did we write With You In Your Dreams? Therapy."

"Yeah, well, I’m still a bit doubtful so I’m coming with you in Boston."

Ashley had come through for me and I had three tickets and press passes in my hands. Of course he wouldn’t let me go without telling me how hard it was for him to get them though. "Do you have any idea what I went through for these?" No but I’m sure you’re going to tell me. "I had to FLY to Boston and promise a signing for their radio station before the concert. If anyone asks, they’re family. I had to lie for you, Tay." Whoop de doo for you, Ash. Not that I don’t love him like a brother but at that moment the last thing on my mind was him. I would have signed a thousand CDs if it meant I’d get to meet Amanda and have her enjoy the concert.

~*~*~

I explained to Amanda that I could only get three tickets and that I bought a general admission ticket on the lawn.

<Llamaesque> Doug, I cannot believe you did this. Thank you so much but I don’t think I can do that. I’d feel horrible about enjoying the concert in the pavilion while you’re stuck with the Land of Screaming Teenies.

<Sunworshpr> Oh stop it! I probably won’t be able to get till late in the day anyway. I am having some problems getting a flight into Boston. I want you to enjoy the tickets. I am excited that Karen is able to come up for it.

<Llamaesque> I can’t believe this. This is so incredible! Thank you again, really. It’s just so sweet of you.

I logged off feeling really good about myself. She didn’t know about the press passes or how close the tickets were but when she did find out, she flipped.

<Llamaesque> OHMY! Doug the tickets are SECOND ROW!!!! How did you get these? Amanda is freaking out! *I* am freaking out. Karen has never seen Hanson live, she’s gonna flip out!

<Sunworshpr> J It pays to have friends in high places. Someone in Boston owed me a favor. I am glad you like them.

<Llamaesque> Like them? Doug, these are amazing. I can’t believe I have them. I hope I don’t forget them at my house. I’ve been known to do that. J

<Sunworshpr> I’ll send you an email to remind you.

~*~*~

The flight to Boston was sheer Hell. I couldn’t sit still and I just wanted to get to the concert to meet her.

Zac, next to me finally snapped, "If you fiddle with the tray one more time I’m gonna pull it off the seat and beat you with it."

I calmed right down.

We had agreed a few days before to meet at a McDonald’s near the venue. She said that she, Karen and the other Amanda would all be wearing jean shorts and black shirts.

<Llamaesque> You can’t miss us. We’ll be the only ones over the age of 15 at McD’s. Besides, we’ve been told before that we look like Charlie’s Angels. Just look for the Farrah Fawcett lookalike. ;)

<Sunworshpr> I’m looking forward to it. I can’t wait to meet you all. You won’t be able to miss me. I’ll be wearing a red shirt with white stripes around the collar. I’ll probably be wearing beige shorts too.

I had long-since known that Amanda’s favorite "Taylor" shirt was that one I wore in our first video. I made my cousin Fed-Ex it to me from Tulsa a few weeks before. It was tattered and quite nasty by this point but we had it washed and it looked somewhat presentable.

~*~*~

The night before the Boston concert, I grabbed one of the cell phones and headed out onto the balcony. I punched in the number that I memorized without realizing it. I was on the last number when Isaac opened my door and said it was time for the signing. I frantically waved at him to go away as I put the phone to my ear. Isaac, being the nosy one, walked onto the balcony with me. I motioned to him to remain quiet for the few moments that the phone was ringing. My stomach was queasy at the thought of talking to her. Isaac leaned against the railing while I paced the six square foot concrete.

The voice answered, "Hello?"

I panicked but regained my composure, "Hi Doug it’s Amanda." Oh God. "I mean, hi Amanda it’s Doug." I heard laughter on the line.

"Doug, we’ll get along fine. That is something that I would definitely do."

I smiled, "Thanks. I just wanted to remind you about your tickets."

"Oh man! I would have forgotten them! Thank you." She laughed, "How did you remember to call? Thank you. That’s so sweet."

Zac came tearing into my room, yelling that it was time to leave and I tried desperately to cover the mouthpiece of the phone, "Uh. Sorry but I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. I still have to finish packing."

She sounded flustered, as if she wanted to talk longer. I couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, I’ll see you then. Thank you for calling." I clicked the off button two or three times before I was convinced the connection was broken. It would be so my luck to have the phone stay on and hear me talking about her.

Zac came out onto the balcony and hung his head over the edge of the railing, "So who was on the phone?"

"Steven, he’s going to be at the concert tomorrow too. I just checking in with him."

"Umm…Steven Tyler? Yeah, right Tay. Next time you try to lie. Think of a better lie than that. Besides, Aerosmith’s jet doesn’t land until tomorrow morning. You really should listen to Susan more often when she goes over the itinerary. We meet them at 10 tomorrow morning."

~*~*~

"Amanda! Ohmygod! You’re gonna kill us!!" Karen was in the backseat and none to happy about that. The death grip she had on the seat was not a good sign.

The "Southern" Amanda was in the driver’s seat and as usual, driving like a maniac. By this time I was used to her aggressive driving but Karen was a newbie. "Amanda if thoughts of vehicular homicide are running through your head could you at least wait until after we attend the concert?"

She turned her head and flashed a devilish grin, "Chicken."

Karen sunk a little lower into the backseat. I think I heard the mutterings of the Rosary from her mouth too. I couldn’t say I blamed her.

Amanda, taking her eyes away from the road too often for my liking, asked, "So, what does he look like?"

I shrugged, "Don’t know."

"Where does he live?"

"He travels with his job."

Karen came back from the land of unconsciousness, "Also known as ‘I don’t know’."

I felt a stab of fear that maybe I was too infatuated to see that he was a mass-murderer, "His home office is in Los Angeles."

The other two continued their inquisition, "So, what did he sound like on the phone?"

I pulled my hands into my lap and looked down at them, mesmerized, "I don’t really know. He sounded nervous I think, a bit hurried too." I wasn’t really comfortable speaking about my feelings with anyone else. I knew that Amanda had been through it though. That made it a bit easier.

~*~*~

I was nervous throughout the van ride down to the venue. I opted for the back corner seat in the large rented van to collect my thoughts. Curled up in a ball in the corner, biting my lip following my thoughts. I was watching the highway pass by, wondering if Vermont looked like this. I appreciate normalcy like this. I imagined myself a high-school student out going to a concert on a Saturday.

Zac pulled me from my thoughts, "So, are you thinking about Steven?" Zac had that all-knowing look in his eye.

I quietly pulled myself out of my thoughts, "Yeah, I am." I gave Zac a look of pity.

His face grew serious and he took over the spot next to me on the plastic bench seat, "So what does she look like?"

I laughed, "There really is no privacy in this house, is there?"

He gave me a look of astonishment, "You thought there was??"

"She’s blond. I’ve only seen one picture of her. Doesn’t really matter what she looks like anyway. I know I like her already." I was picking at the stuffing that had pulled free of the seat, "She’s an amazing writer and a phenomenal person. That’s enough for me."

Zac let his head fall back to the seat, "Does she have a sister?"

"Nope, sorry bud. Only child."

"Any friends?"

"Actually, she’s going to be with two friends, one is from Massachusetts and the other is from New Jersey."

Zac looked over confused, "Is she not from Massachusetts?"

"No, she’s from Vermont." He let out a non-descriptive, "oh."

~*~*~

The press area was packed. The three of us were gripping our press tags as if renegade teenies were scattered around us with the sole purpose of snatching them.

Karen looked around in awe, "I can’t believe he scored us press passes." She looked down at her camera, "How good does a camera have to be to considered ‘press’?"

Amanda had given us a cover story in case we were questioned. We were satellite reporters from Merrimack College for the Eagle-Tribune. It sounded legit enough for us.

Then the inevitable happened, Karen caught site of Steven Tyler. We heard the gasp behind us and saw Karen’s jaw drop. I craned my neck to see over the crowd of people that had swarmed in front of us. I gripped Amanda’s arm when I saw who was standing next to him, "OHMYGOD! Next to Steven is Joe Perry and next to him is a blond guy, probably about 17 or so, he’s with his two brothers."

I thought Karen was going to vault herself over the crowd, "You’re shitting me?!?!"

The three of us politely started to walk through the crowd but the closer we got the ruder the teenies. Well, Karen and Amanda were not going to stand for brutality from children.

"Excuse me? Press junket." I couldn’t believe how magical those words spread the crowd like the Red Sea.

I sucked in my breath as we got closer to the guys. For some reason, I was more excited for Karen and Amanda than I was for myself. The unattainable just wasn’t as sweet this time around. I wanted to see the reactions of my friends. There was a line formed around the group for hand shaking and picture taking. We took our place in line and calmly exploded on the inside. Karen was first in line for Steven and stayed chatting with him while Amanda and I headed down the line toward the brothers Hanson.

As promised, Karen, Amanda and I wore black shirts and jean shorts and I could Taylor’s eyebrows raise at the site of the three of us. He stuck his hand in the ceremonial handshake.

He smiled, "Hey, you three together I take it?"

"Yeah, don’t think we’re nuts but we’re meeting a friend."

He scanned Karen and Amanda again and said, "You know you three look like Charlie’s Angels?"

I laughed, "You’d be amazed how many people have told us that."

Amanda moved closer to shake Taylor’s hand and I moved onto Zac. Quick, painless and quite sterile. I left feeling a bit used. Not the emotions that I felt the first times I saw them. We posed for pictures with the three brothers and then with the two lead singers of Aerosmith. If Karen had had her way she would have used the whole damn roll on Steven alone. We had to drag her away from the press tent and back into the main venue, "Guys come on just one more picture."

Amanda laughed, "One more picture Karen and you’re going to blind them. Wasn’t it enough he personally invited you to their next concert in New Jersey?"

Karen looked mournful, "Would it be selfish to say no?"

~*~*~

I saw her. I wanted her to know it was me but there was no spark of recognition in her eyes. Her eyes were covered with sunglasses and I secretly wished she’d take them off. I had such a connection to her but yet I couldn’t understand why. I guess it’s just one of those things that she wrote about. The rest of the afternoon was hurried and I couldn’t imagine how I was going to survive meeting her. I almost lost my lunch when I caught sight of her in the audience. I tried to have Ash get seats in front of me but he threw a pen at my head when I asked. He has no sense of humor. Instead of them being in front of me, they were stuck with crappy center stage tickets.

The performance went well. I was fueling my energy from her smile. Karen was jumping up and down and I couldn’t help but get a little jumpy when I thought that I had given her the chance to see not only us but also Aerosmith up close.

~*~*~

Karen had assumed the job of navigator to Amanda’s road warrior.

"Head right. No left." Karen was looking at the map and trying her best with the soppy contact lens that were blurring her vision. "You guys are gonna have to wait to meet him until I can get some saline."

"I’m gonna make you produce your own tears if you don’t read the damn map." Amanda was losing patience. As happens with all Massachusetts drivers. I could feel a war of states coming on. "I don’t think there’s any need for violence, Amanda."

"Stuff it, pom-pom girl."

"Let’s just get there and then we can start the cat fight." My stomach was having a fight of its own and apparently the butterflies were winning. I was nervous. In some respects I just wanted to get this over with but I wanted to cherish it and not miss anything.

The parking lot was packed but we managed to find a space in the lot next door. We hurried into the restaurant and stood around the door.

Karen looked around, "Guys, there’s a back door here too. Do you think one of us should head over there?"

I looked over the crowd, "No, I think we’re better off sticking together. He thinks they’re three of us. And considering solid color shirts and jean shorts are the outfit of choice today…"

The restaurant cleared out after an hour or so. By ten o’clock the place was deserted and there was still no Doug.

Karen and Amanda were kind enough not to mention it on the way home and we settled into a silent dialogue.

Once we got into Amanda’s house we settled into our own nightly ritual. I brushed my teeth and caught a look at myself in the mirror. I cringed and looked away before the tears fell.

We had taken up residence in Amanda’s room and after I heard the rhythmic breathing of the other two I let myself go. I turned toward the wall and pulled the pillow into my eyes. I didn’t want to let the other two hear my crying. Sometime around 4 a.m. or so I fell into an exhausted sleep.

~*~*~

Ashley, Isaac and I pulled into the McDonald’s parking lot. My heart dropped. It was filled to capacity and more.

Ash cleared his throat, "I can’t let you go into that Taylor. Especially with all these people around."

My head hit the back of the seat, "Yeah, I know."

Isaac and Ashley were thankfully silent on the way back to the hotel. It was a long drive back into Boston and I mentally beat myself up the whole way. She’s going to hate me. She’s going to be pissed. A thought hit me, What if she cries? Some little voice in my mind told me that I couldn’t mean that much to her but I also knew that it was very possible. I felt nauseous. I hated seeing people cry. Normally when screaming teenies start crying I feel embarrassed for them but I felt like someone had ripped a hole in my heart when I thought of Amanda crying.

~*~*~

I leaned over Amanda’s sleeping bag, "She’s still asleep. Let’s go downstairs."

Karen moved silently around the sleeping bags on the carpet, "I feel so bad."

"I do too. I can’t believe he never showed up."

"What an asshole!" Karen and I were walking down the stairs, condemning the non-faced friend.

Karen turned to me, "I could hear her crying last night. I felt horrible."

"I did too but I didn’t want to embarrass her by saying anything."

"Neither did I."

~*~*~

The next morning, I stood in the hotel room with my brothers, my father and Ashley. I was trying for an adult conversation but I sounded more like a spoiled child who wasn’t getting his way, "I’m not leaving the city without seeing her. Please, someone tell me that we can move our flight up until tonight."

Ashley looked at the ground and my brothers averted my eyes. My father spoke up with his normal pragmatic inflection, "Taylor, we really shouldn’t stay. We have to be at a radio station in Cincinnati at seven-tomorrow morning."

I shook my head, "I don’t care. I just want to see her. Please, just let me see her."

My father pleaded, "Taylor, you already saw her." I gave him a look that would melt ice, "But she didn’t see me as me. I want her to see me as me." My voice was raising but I couldn’t help it. I got no sleep that night. I felt like a complete ass. Around 2 a.m. I finally gave up and started looking for the other Amanda’s phone number. I had to know all of their full names when I got them the press passes.

"If we stay here for one more night it won’t kill us." I was grasping at anything now, "We’ll work with the time difference tomorrow morning and fly into Ohio. We can drive right to the radio station."

Everyone cleared out of the room but my father. "Please Dad, no lectures. Just let me do this." My father gave me a look that said, I understand.

Alone in the room I dialed Amanda’s number.

"Hello?"

I squeaked out an answer, "Is Amanda there?"

"Speaking."

"Hi, this is Doug."

Her tone turned icy, "Oh. Did you want the other Amanda?"

"No, I just wanted to apologize. My flight was late and I just got into the city this morning. I wanted to know if you still wanted to meet up with me."

"That’s up to her. Hold on I’ll get her." I heard the phone being passed and took a deep breath. "Hello?"

"Amanda, I am so sorry. My flight was late. I missed my connection. Would you consider meeting me in Boston this afternoon?"

"Uh, we had plans to go into Boston today so that sounds okay."

~*~*~

For the second time in two days we pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot. Isaac and Ashley had come along for moral support again and I was greatly indebted to them for it. As Ash took the key out of the ignition I turned and asked, "Oh, do you have any money?"

He just rolled his eyes, "You owe me for this."

"I know I do." Isaac silently climbed out of the backseat with his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, "You ready for this?"

I looked over, "Not really but I guess this’ll have to do."

The restaurant was pretty empty and I looked over at the corner table. Karen was telling a story and her arms were flailing around.

They were pretty engrossed in the story because they didn’t notice us coming until we were standing next to the table.

Amanda looked up and sighed, "Oh my God. When it rains, it pours. Do you remember us from yesterday?"

I laughed, wanting the charade to go on a bit longer, "Yeah, you’re from…Vermont, right?" The other two were in awe and clamped their mouths shut. I heard Isaac try to suppress a laugh behind me.

"Yes."

"So, what are you here for?"

She blushed, "I’m meeting up with the friend."

My eyes flashed with mischief, "I thought you were meeting him yesterday?"

"He couldn’t make it."

"Oh, that’s too bad. I bet he had a good excuse though." I paused for dramatic effect, "Like a flight cancellation or something." I saw her eyes cloud with questions and I watched her search for an explanation. Before she made the connection I could see looming behind her eyes, I stuck my hand out, "Hi. I’m Doug, nice to finally meet you…Llama."

The Southern Amanda spit her soda out and started to choke on it a bit. She grabbed at a napkin and stared up at me, "Okay, could you not do stuff like that when I’m attempting to drink. I really don’t want to choke in front of people. It’d be a bit embarrassing."

Amanda kept looking up at me, trying to figure out the puzzle that was forced on her. After a few seconds she finally shook her head. "I had absolutely no idea." She looked back at the other two, searching for an answer to this puzzle. "How could that be? I didn’t have a clue."

I smiled, "I didn’t want you to."

Isaac and Ashley were getting restless behind me and asked the girls if we could join them. Through most of the meal, Amanda kept looking over at me and shaking her head. There wasn’t much privacy and there wasn’t much time but I tried to make the most of it. Karen and Amanda offered to take Ashley and Isaac for a walk up to the Boston Common.

I stretched out my legs in front of me and sighed. I turned to look at her and I saw a glimmer in her eye. Her face took a shy gaze and she asked, "So, are you really afraid of the dark?"

I sheepishly moved my head up and down. A thought hit me. "Oh!" I ran back out to the van.

Ashley left me the keys to the van and I fished them out of my pocket. Rummaging under the seat I found the paper bag. I ran back into the restaurant and dropped a paper bag into Amanda’s hands. I smiled, "For you."

She pulled out a flashlight and looked at me with a questioning glance.

I smiled, "Now you don’t have to be afraid of the dark."

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