"Yes, uh-huh. No, that's perfect! Thank you so much! Bye." I triumphantly throw my fists in the air as soon as I hang up my phone, dropping it in my lap. "Yes!" I yell out, a huge smile stretching across my face as I close my eyes and lean my head back, relief washing over me.

"You got it?" Alex and Shay seem to ask at the same time, eagerness laced in their voices. Turning around in my swivel desk chair, I can see they're sitting on the edge of their seats on the dressing room couch, eyes wide and hopeful.

My smile only widens as I feverishly nod my head in conformation. They both jump up from the couch to come over and tackle me, forming a bone crushing group hug before shaking my shoulders in victory.

"I knew you could do it!" Alex beams down at me, still resting his hand on my shoulder.

"See, you did all that worrying for nothing," Shay says nonchalantly, walking over to arrange the vanity. She acts like she didn't stay with me for hours yesterday trying to help out, only leading to numerous dead ends.

I just roll my eyes and shake my head, leaning back in my chair to let my nerve stricken mind and muscles finally relax.

"It's no elegant, five star hotel, but it's the best I can do." I shrug, surprisingly not caring too much. I got a decent place given the circumstances, and that's all that matters.

"Darn, I was looking forward to using all the new camping gear I bought for the occasion. Guess I'll just have to return it all," Alex teases, referring to my joke about possibly having to sleep out on the streets if I couldn't find a hotel for the fashion even, playfully pinching my shoulder.

I swat his hand away, trying to fight a smile as I glare at him. "Oh, you can still use it," I joke and fully crack a smile when he mocks a hurt expression, pout on his face, placing his hand over his chest.

I giggle, standing up to brush past him and go flop down on the couch. He walks over, picking up my legs to take a seat, placing them in his lap.

"Knew you could do it," his voice is just above a whisper as he lazily throws his head back against the couch, turning his face towards me to give me a small smile, his large hand giving my leg a light squeeze.

I smile back, whispering a thanks before exhaling out a much needed puff of air, ridding my body of my previous stressor. It's very short lived, though, Chris barging into the room, causing me to jolt up, swinging my legs over the edge of the couch to sit up properly. Alex does the same, straightening up in his seat, and Milo and Shay both turn in alert.

"What the hell is this?" Chris bellows, briskly walking into the dressing room, holding his phone out at arm's length, shoving it in our faces.

Alex and I lean forward, eyes squinted and brows furrowed, trying to see what's pulled up on the screen. As soon as I can make out the photo I feel my breath catch in my throat and my body flush. Alex's body seems to stiffen next to me.

"Well?" Chris asks impatiently, aggressively tearing the phone away and shoving it in his pocket.

I go to open my mouth but nothing comes out. I'm stricken with both fear and embarrassment, and I didn't know what to say to make this situation better. I knew there would be consequences, but I didn't expect the vein starting to pop out of Chris's forehead to be so intimidating and frightening.

"It was my idea," Alex says quickly, his vocal chords functioning much more than mine. I quickly snap my head over to him as if to say what the hell are you doing, but his eyes momentarily shift to look at me, signaling for me to keep quiet. "I couldn't sleep last night and I asked her to go to the diner with me. That's all." He tries to shrug nonchalantly.

"That's all?" Chris repeats incredulously, letting out a humorless chuckle, obviously angered. "What the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you tell me or at least get Milo? Why did you even go at all? You know you can't go out by yourself because people are bound to recognize you and take pictures!"

"It was two in the morning!" Alex yells back in defense, but it doesn't help his case.

"Two in the morning?" Chris parrots, eyes practically bugging out of his head. "That's just fantastic!" he yells, arms momentarily flying out to his sides and smacking down on his thighs, sarcasm seeping through his tone. "Alex, you know you can't just go out in public like that." He sighs, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead. "And you," he quickly drops his hand to point at me, making my heart rate pick up impossibly faster. "You should have known better," he accuses, eyes hard while staring at me in utter disapproval.

"This isn't her fault! It was my idea. Mine," Alex says while pointing a finger to his chest, standing as if to have a faceoff with Chris.

"Still, you both should have known better! Do you know how much damage control we have to do now? It's all over the internet!" Chris growls and his phone goes off in his pocket. He quickly pulls it out and shakes his head, reading some sort of message and letting out a sigh. "Just... don't let it happen again," his tone is serious as he points a warning finger, eyes sternly flicking between us before turning on his heel to hurry down the hall.

The room is painfully silent and full of tension when he leaves until Shay finally speaks up. "What the hell was that?"

"Chris just being an ass," Alex grumbles, flopping back down on the couch and tugging at his curls.

I still feel my heart hammering in my chest and I feel like I can't breathe properly. I'm not good with confrontation and I can't just shake it off like most people. All my life I've been a people pleaser, so when someone is remotely unhappy with me I immediately go into panic mode, like now.

I feel like I'm suffocating in my own guilt. I knew the repercussions would be bad, but I didn't expect Chris to act the way he did, storming into the room to yell at us like that. And I can't believe Alex. Why did he take the blame? This is one hundred percent my fault, but my dumb mouth wouldn't speak up.

It all feels like too much, and before I can comprehend what I'm doing, my legs quickly lift me up to a standing position and briskly carry me down the hall towards the nearest exit. Pushing past the heavy metal door, I'm relieved when fresh air fills my constricted lungs.

"Joslyn?" I hear Alex's voice cautiously call out.

"Why?" I can help but ask, turning around to face him. "Why did you do that?" I ask again, realizing my voice is wavering and there's a burn behind my eyes.

"Do what?" he asks softly, brows furrowing a bit as he steps towards me.

"Why did you take the blame for me? This is all my fault!"

"First of all, this is not your fault. Second of all, I can handle Chris. I knew it would be less of a blow if I took the bullet. He's just a drama queen, and I promise it'll all blow over in no time. Did you even look at the photo? Joslyn, you can't even see your face," he says, digging his phone out of his pocket to pull up the picture. Sure enough, you can see his face, but mine, it's covered by my hair. Only close members of the crew could probably guess that its me.

"See? Nothing to worry about." He shrugs, pocketing his phone before comfortingly cupping his hand over my shoulder.

I simply nod, looking down at the ground while nervously playing with my fingers. "Ok," my voice is small as I glance up at him, deciding to let it go for now because we have to get ready for the meet and greet, followed by the Q&A.

All during the meet and greet and Q&A, I can't help but still worry about the whole thing and feel guilty. Especially after the first question is about last night. But Alex brushes it off pretty well, playing it cool and not saying much on the topic.

Instead of listening in on the rest of the Q&A like I usually do, I sit on my phone the whole time anxiously overanalyzing the photo and seeing what people have to say online.

I instantly feel relief when I notice most of the headlines are now questioning why Alex oddly has a blue paper clip hanging on the collar of his shirt, instead of why he's with a mystery brunette. I can't help but smile while looking at the photo, the small blue clip sticking out like a sore thumb.

Idiot. I told him he looked ridiculous going out like that.

"What are you smiling at?" Alex questions, bumping his shoulder against mine. I guess I didn't realize the Q&A is over.

"People have shifted their concern to the paper clip." I can't help but giggle, handing him my phone to show him the different posts.

A smile instantly breaks out onto his face and a chuckle passes his lips. "Jealous a paperclip is getting more attention than you now?" He jokes.

"Technically, it is my paperclip, so I'm flattered either way," I joke back, deciding to finally make light of the situation.

He laughs and shakes his head. "See, you have nothing to worry about. People tend to move on quickly."

"Yeah," I sigh, feeling some of the weight lift off my shoulders. "Now, come on popstar. You got a show to do."

Laying in my bunk after the show and after watching a few episodes of Friends with Shay and Alex, I'm startled awake when I hear someone's bunk curtain suddenly draw back, the metal rings of the curtain screeching against the rod. Then there's a loud thump on the floor followed by rushed footsteps.

Drawing back my own curtain, in the darkness of the bus I can just make out that Alex's curtain is drawn back, leading me to believe it was him that caused the commotion.

I wait a few minutes to see if he'll come back, but he doesn't. Getting out of my bunk, I decide to go look for him.

Quietly and cautiously, I maneuver my way through the bus in the pitch black. Finding the door to the back lounge, I open it and peek my head in only to be met with the same amount of darkness. Making my way back through the bunk area, I find the door to the front lounge and open it. Peeking my head through, I just make out the small sliver of light shining through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door.

The bus is silent aside from the low rumble of the engine and I can faintly hear the sound of someone, Alex, retching on the other side of the bathroom door. I wait a few moments when it becomes silent again, giving him a moment before softly knocking on the door.

"Alex?" I quietly ask, not wanting to wake anyone.

"Yeah?" I can faintly hear his strained, dejected voice on the other side of the door.

"Watch out, I'm coming in," I announce, cautiously opening the door to the tiny bathroom and slipping my body inside, quickly closing the door behind me to not disturb anyone.

Looking down at the floor, Alex is seated with his head close to the toilet. His face is pale with a thin layer of sweat. He looks so tired and miserable, eyes dull and heavy.

"Alex," I say, instantly kneeling down to his level. "What happened?" I push back the dark curls that have toppled over his forehead, checking his temperature with the back of my hand in the process. He's warm, but not fever warm.

"Don't know," he mumbles, eyes closing as he rests his head back against the wall. "I just woke up and felt sick to my stomach."

"Oh no," I mumble, trying my hardest not to jump to worst case scenario. "Maybe it was something you ate?" I suggest, praying that it's not an actual illness.

Before he can answer my question, he's scrambling to his knees, hovering his head over the porcelain bowl. I soothingly run my hand up and down his back while he spills more of the contents of his stomach out and into the toilet.

When he's finished, he slumps back down on the floor and rests against the wall, his eyes more miserable and glossy.

I quickly open the cabinet under the sink and pull out a washcloth, wetting it with cool water. Wringing it out in the sink, I bend down to place it against his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat, hoping to cool him down. Then I bring it to the corner of his mouth where a little bit of the contents still remain. Looking down, I can see he has a little bit on his shirt too.

"Come on, let's get you some meds and fresh clothes," I softly urge, holding my hand out to help him up.

Surprisingly, I'm able to get his tall, lean, and tired body up and off of the floor. Before we exit the bathroom, I make him brush his teeth and strip off his soiled shirt. When we exit he makes his way to the back lounge while I go find some meds and grab him a water bottle and clean shirt.

Quietly making my way to the back lounge, I open the door to find Alex sprawled across the couch, body obviously heavy with sleep. The illumination from the T.V. he must have turned on allows me to see.

"Hey," I softly speak, running my hand up and down his arm. "I know it's the last thing you want to do right now, but I need you to sit up and take these for me. Can you do that?"

He lets out a soft groan before reluctantly pushing his body up and into a sitting position. I give him the meds to help with the nausea and hand him the water bottle to chase them with. Taking a seat beside him, I remind him to take tiny, slow sips, not wanting to rile up his stomach any more. I offer him the clean shirt but he declines, body still radiating with heat.

"Thank you," he softly mumbles, capping the water bottle and setting it on the floor. His eyes tiredly close and he lays back down, placing his head in my lap, catching me off guard. "Can you play with my hair?" From the tone of his voice I can tell he's still miserable, the request almost coming out as a whine.

"Sure," I quietly answer, plunging my fingers into his thick, soft hair, occasionally letting my nails graze against his scalp. He lets out a content sigh, head becoming heavier in my lap. After a few minutes, I let my hand wander down his smooth, muscular back, rubbing gentle circles, knowing that's what I love whenever I'm sick.

In about a half an hour I can tell he's asleep, his breaths deep and even. Now I'm stuck here in the back of the bus with him in my lap and some awful infomercial muted on the TV. I would change the channel, but the remote is too far away and I don't have the heart to wake him up. He finally looks peaceful, and from what I can make out in the dark, the color is starting to make its way back onto his face.

Surprisingly, I don't find myself minding being stuck in this situation too much. Even if I wasn't trapped here, I don't think I could leave him here by himself. I think I'd constantly worry if he's ok.

Making myself as comfortable as possible, given the situation, I eventually find myself dozing off as well, fingers still tangled in his loose curls.

It feels as though I only got a few minutes of sleep when I'm wakened by someone clearing their throat. Opening my eyes, I have to let them adjust to the morning light seeping in through the bus windows for a moment. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I can finally see that Chris is standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed and he has a questioning and displeased look on his face.

Instantly waking up, I go to stand up but remember the brunette popstar sleeping in my lap. "S-sorry, he wasn't feeling well last night," I hurriedly try to explain to Chris, my cheeks flaring up.

I rub my hand up and down Alex's back to try to wake him up. "Alex," I softly urge, not wanting to startle him, especially if he still isn't feeling well. He only lets out a soft hum in response.

"Alex," Chris says his name sternly, causing him to open his eyes. Chris takes a few steps into the lounge, seemingly examining Alex. "Are you ok? Are you sick?" he asks, eyes squinting to look at him, evaluating.

Alex pushes himself off my lap and sits up, rubbing his face with his hands. "I don't know," he admits, voice gruff. "I think my stomach was just upset. Nothing major."

He does look a lot better, face full of color again.

Chris hums, walking over to Alex and checking his temperature with the back of his hand. "You don't feel warm, but I don't want to take any chances. Joslyn, make him a doctor's appointment for this afternoon so we can get everything checked out," he says, patting Alex's shoulder before walking out.

"How do you feel?" I cautiously ask.

"Better. Fine I think," Alex says looking over at me. His eyes are clear but tired, and he looks much better than last night.

"Good."

"Did you stay with me all night?" he asks, brows furrowing.

"Yeah."

"You didn't have to do that." His eyes soften.

"I don't mind. I wanted to. I wasn't just going to leave you out here by yourself," I honestly admit.

"Thank you." He gives me a small, sincere smile.

"No problem," I say, standing up and straightening out my pajamas. "Let's find you a doctor, and do you think you can stomach a few pieces of toast for me?"

"I think I can do that." He smiles, standing and walking to the front of the bus with me.