Now I panic?

"Do you have your cell phone? You'll need your laptop too; so you can send us pics."

I'm packing now, at 8:55 in the morning. My flight leaves at 9:20.

The guys are lounging on my bed, watching me.

"You know, you guys could help me out a bit here."

Bryan groans. "Please tell me you don't need tampons."

I grin mischievously. "Maybe..."

He leaps up. "I'm out."

I burst out laughing. "Alright alright; I'm just kidding. But can you go downstairs and get me my yellow and green converse? Please?" He nods and leaves.

Mark looks like he wants to cry, which is very out of character for him. He senses me watching and turns, not even bothering to smile now.

"Do you even know how long you're going to be gone? What if it's months? What are we supposed to wear for our gigs? I don't know how to do that thing you do to my hair either."

I bite my lip, continuing to pack. "Just call me; I should be able to help you guys out by phone."

"But we don't-"

"Do you really need to pile all of this on me right now?! I'm upset enough without you guys reminding me of all the things I do to help you out that I wont be able to do anymore until-"

Mark holds up his hands, noticing my panic. "Alright, Kortney; I'm sorry okay? Calm down please."

I throw down the shirt I'm holding, right as Bryan walks in with my shoes.

"Don't tell me to calm down Mark! Would you be calm if you had to leave the guys and I to go live with mom and dad again?!"

Mark looks nervous, watching me rant. I stop, leaning against the wall next to me for support, trying to calm my breathing. I know the guys hate seeing me like this.

I have a history of major panic attacks. Ever since I was about five. My parents sent me to a therapist for a while, before Mark took me. My attacks seemed to go down a lot after that-I haven't had one in months.

Bryan kneels next to me.

"Kort?"

"What?"

"We can take care of ourselves. Just go hear whatever your parents have to say, then come back, and we'll take you wherever you want to go for a whole week. You wont have any fun in Cali anyways."

I laugh bitterly. "No you guys can't; but thanks for trying to cheer me up anyways."

My suitcases packed, I sit back against the wall. The guys look pretty bummed out. I decide to lighten the mood a bit.

"You know, I've had a crush on each of you guys at least twice? Except Mark of course."

They all smile, eyebrows raised in question and amusement.

I laugh, slightly embarrassed, but continue anyway.

"It's true! Remember when I first moved in? Mark-you walked in first, and I followed you. You actually made me carry my own bags!" Mark laughs.

"So we walk in, and Liam-you walked in, took one look at me lugging my bags, and just took them. That was when I realized that you were shirtless. You carried them to my room, and the whole time I was following you, I kept thinking: 'OMG! A god is carrying my bags! I need to dye my hair blonde and lose ten pounds.' "

Everyone actually rolls off of the bed laughing so hard. I roll my eyes at them.

"Great; can we go now?"

............................................................................................................

We're right outside the tunnel that leads to the airplane, and Mark's completely lost it. He's sobbing into my shirt as of now. The others don't look that far off from doing the same. I'm the one comforting them, and it should be the other way around.

People passing by stare in amusement at all of them crying on me. I shake my head.

"Come on guys; you're acting like I'm going to be executed. People are staring."

They all let go, wiping their faces.

"ALL PASSENGERS ON THE 9:45 PLANE TO California PLEASE BOARD THE PLANE AT THIS TIME. ALL PASSENGERS..."

We tune out the repeated message as they all squish me back into a hug.

"Okay," I choke out. "I gotta go guys." They all release me. "I'll call you as soon as I get settled okay? I promise."

They nod solemnly. I remember something.

"Oh! By the way; I laid out a bunch of clothes that you can wear to your gigs while I'm gone. They're on your beds. Bryan?"

He sniffs. "Yes?"

"If you don't un-tuck your shirt while I'm gone, I'll still find a way to dye your clothes pink. Even while I'm in Cali." I smile; everyone laughs.

"Be good," I say, taking a step back, and Mark loses it again. I walk down the tunnel as quickly as possible so I don't chicken out and stay after all.

The cabin is full when I step in. I glance down at my seating paper. B2. I glance around as I walk down the aisle. Here it is.

I don't look at the two people in my row until I sit down. Middle seat; ugh. I hate sitting in the middle. I look to my left to see a cute blond- blue eyed guy in the aisle seat. He smiles, showing bright white Hollywood teeth that seem to glow. Then I turn to my right.

There's a boy; I can't tell how old he is, playing my favorite game in the world. Phantasy Star Portable. Hence, this drives me to completely ignore the hot guy on my other side, and focus on this dude.

He's taller than me(an I'm five foot nine), and has blond, pin straight hair that comes down to his ears, covering most of his eyes. I can't tell what color his eyes are because of it. His skins is white, almost ghost- like, compared to my chocolate brown skin.

I realize that he's on a BOSS level of a mission. The one with the dragon. I forget what it's called, but I remember how to beat it. He dies; again, and I decide to help him out.

"You have to wait out his attacks. It'll take a bit longer that way, but it'll stop you from having to heal yourself every two minutes."

He doesn't respond to this, continuing to play. Eventually, he gets his rhythm, and kills the thing. I bounce in my seat a bit in excitement. He collects his reward, clicks the game off, and turns to me, glaring. I'm caught off guard.

"What?"

"I didn't need your help," he mumbles, angry.

I get a bit angry too. "I watched you die four times. Obviously, you did."

His faces goes red, and he turns away, angrily shoving on headphones. They're the soundproof ones, I notice. Jerk.

Someone taps my shoulder, and I turn to see the hot guy, with an attendant next to him; a snack cart in front of her.

"She asked if you wanted anything," he tells me.

"Oh. Um.. some peanuts? Please," I tack on.

The woman hands me a bag of honey roasted nuts, purposely flaunting her cleavage in the hot guy's face, who doesn't pay attention. He must be used to it. He looks at me instead.

"I would've taken your advice on that game happily. You seemed to really know what you're talking about. You play video games a lot? Or just that one?"

I pop a few nuts into my mouth. "Yep. Just about anything. Well-except for shooters and wrestling games. You?"

He shrugs. "I like to; when I have time. But I rarely have time, between work and just taking care of myself."

I nod.

"So; what are you doing on a plane, going to Cali... by yourself?"

My smile fades, and I face forward again as the pilot tell us we're about to take off. I don't answer him when we're airborne. He pokes my arm.

"I don't want to talk about it," I say, my voice cold, dripping venom.

He lets it go, a look of understanding on his face. "Parents?"

I turn to him, dead serious. "You have no...idea."

My cell rings and I've barely answered it, before Mark's voice booms out.

"KORTNEY!!!"

I'm pretty sure the whole cabin heard him. He sounds panicky.

"Yes Mark," I answer back calmly.

"Are you okay?"

I wince at his yelling. The guy next to me smiles.

"Calm down Mark. Yes I'm fine; I think I've found someone to talk to." I glance to my right. "The other guy next to me is a total jerk face though."

"Who are you talking to? What's her or his name?"

I glance over at the hot guy. He's watching me. I cover the mouthpiece.

"Can I help you?"

His eyebrows go up. "No."

"Well it's very rude to listen to other people's phone conversations, you know."

He grins. "Well, seeing as how whoever you're talking to is talking loud enough to be on speaker anyways, I think it's quite appropriate."

I glare slightly, going back to the phone.

"I don't know his name. Have you talked to mom?"

The guy pokes me again.

"What?!"

"My name's josh."

There's rustling on the other end, and I roll my eyes, putting it on speaker.

"Hey Kort. Mark is too freaked out to talk anymore. You're good right?" Liam sounds a bit tired.

"Yeah. This is my first time away from home, and Mark is more worried than I am. That's not really a good sign."

Josh looks shocked. "Really? You're first time? You don't even seem nervous."

I shrug. "When I get there, then I'll get scared."

"I'm sure their news isn't that bad, Kort."

"Liam. They've told me lots of things before that haven't involved me going to freaking California. Mom's up to something. If I don't come back, promise me now that you'll still send me the first copy of your album."

He laughs. "Will do."

Josh looks interested at this. "Album?"

I smile proudly. "My brother is the lead vocalist and guitarist of a band. The Hangnails. Liam plays the drums."

Josh grins. "Cool Need help getting noticed?"

I raise my eyebrows in question.

Liam clears his throat. "Sorry, Kort. We have to calm Mark down before our gig tonight. Got to go."

"Okay Liam. I'll call you when I get settled in at 'home'." I make sure he can hear the quotation marks around the word: Home. Meaning that it isn't really my home.

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

I hang up, feeling homesick for the for the first time. Josh pokes me.

"What is it with you and poking," I ask half heartedly.

He hands me a slim card. "Give me a call if you help advertising your brothers band. My work? I'm a producer."

I nod, slipping the card into my pocket. I didn't really listen though.