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“You’ve never flown first class before?” I asked Chace, trying to get him to hurry up. He was kind of just standing and staring at the compartment in awe.

“Uh, no,” he mumbled, quickly looking at his ticket to find his seat…which was right next to me, because Jared and I always sat together. I internally cursed. The kid was alright, but I didn’t feel like getting all buddy buddy with him just yet. We had all tour for that.

“Max,” I hissed, gesturing towards Chace pleadingly. Max rolled his eyes, but got Chace to sit somewhere else. “Don’t give me that look,” I sighed when Max sat next to me. “I just… it’s weird. I don’t know him at all. It would’ve been a long and awkward flight, Max.”

“You’ll never get to know him if you don’t every try,” Max pointed out, putting in his headphones and closing his eyes as he leaned his seat back.

Chace was now sitting with Pat. Those two seemed to be getting along just fine. It was easy for them, though. They were much closer in age. Chace was the youngest of all of us. When he pulled out his passport, it said he was nineteen years old. Nineteen! I mean, even Pat and Garrett were already almost twenty two! Chace was watching movies with Pat on…an iPad, which was obviously his own. He even had a headphone splitter for them to use.

I fell asleep after I ate the honey roasted peanuts. Those are the only things I like about flights. I spent most of the flight asleep, actually, but I did wake up…when a flight attendant gently shook me awake. “Excuse me? Excuse me, sir, your friend’s-“

“Please, don’t bother him,” I heard a familiar voice pant. When I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I saw Chace sitting on the ground. The breakfast tray on his table thing had food on it…but said food was covered in vomit. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” he apologized profusely to the flight attendant as she cleaned things up.

“You airsick, Chace?” I asked with a yawn, feeling bad for the poor guy. Vomiting never felt good. Unless you had food poisoning, or something, then vomiting was such a relief.

“Something like that,” he laughed nervously, rocking back and forth on his heels. He started muttering to himself and when the flight attendant came back to ask him to sit down again, he just asked for water. When she came back, he drank and popped a few pills. And said pills came from a prescription bottle, no less.

“What are those for?” I asked curiously, trying to get a closer look, but it was dimly lit and he pocketed the bottle after he got the lid back on it.

“Nausea,” Chace sighed, wiping sweat off his forehead. The guy looked really, really pale and he looked weaker than ever. “I’ll be fine. Really. I’m so sorry she woke you up,” Chace apologized again, slowly getting back into his seat.

“Stop with the apologizing. Hey, man, are you honest to god feeling sick? Do you need, like, a doctor?” Chace shook his head to both questions, which only served to frustrate me more. “Just tell me straight up. We’ll grab you some meds when we land and stuff, alright?”

“No, I’ve got my meds, I’ll be fine. You don’t understand. Thanks anyways, John.”

I don’t understand, huh? Well, then. I frowned and readjusted my pillows. “Alright, fine.” If he didn’t want help, then that was his problem. I went right back to sleep. I did try to be nice to him…

When we arrived, we went through customs and what have you, and we finally made it to baggag claim a good half hour later. Chace snuck away, though, to go to the bathroom, he said. Pat went ahead and grabbed Chace’s suitcase for him.

“Oh, thanks, Pat, I got it,” Chace said as he trotted over… in brand new clothes.

“Did you change clothes?” Pat asked curiously.

Chace looked down at his clothes self consciously – skinny jeans, TOMS, a flannel plaid button up shirt, a gray beanie. He had been wearing gray skinnies and a cardigan over some t-shirt. I remembered it distinctly because I thought he looked super girly. He looked super girly again right now. But whatever Chace wore, he looked good in it. No homo. Just sayin, the guy had style.

“Yeah… I felt dirty…” Chace trailed off, stuffing more of his hair under the beanie.

“You…just walked out of the girls bathroom,” Pat said slowly, making us all look at Chace now.

“Oh, shit,” Chace laughed, slapping his forehead and turning about as red as his shoes. “I’m so out of it. I’m just not feeling well. None of the girls freaked out or anything, though…”

“For obvious reasons,” Garrett snickered, alluding to the fact that Chace was ridiculously effeminate.

We all shrugged it off, even though Chace looked highly offended, but only I knew why he changed. No one else had seen him puking his guts out. I hung at the back of our group to pat Chace’s head. “You feeling any better?”

“Now that we’re on ground, I feel loads better,” Chace let out a relieved laugh, his smile blinding me.

I nodded and blinked a few times before walking with Max and Vito again. We all walked to the van and loaded up our stuff. Kennedy got Chace’s bags in for him. While Kennedy did that, and on the way to his seat, Chace popped some more of those pills before we even left the airport. Junkie much?

Once we were all in the van, I started driving us to our hotel. Everyone was talking about getting something to eat. It was right about lunch time here, anyways. It had boiled down to Nando's or Wagamama's by the time we pulled into the parking lot. Pat, Garrett and Chace started playing around and talking in British accents. Chace’s was most convincing.

There was something a little too perfect about Chace, and it…weirded me out.