by silverluna
Chapter Three: Meeting
~@~
She was on a mission. Not the usual one. This one was webbed and spiked and sticky. But there was to be no mistakes. She used her otherworldly senses to stake out the trail. It was her last chance. Not that by replacing herself they would forget about her. She hoped they wouldn't, perhaps selfishly. An earthly vice that would instantly fade when she left this plane.
She desperately wanted to erase some of their pain, hoping that this gesture would. The girl in the paper looked lonely. Perhaps this would help her make friends. She knew this girl wasn't her original charge; she had worked her way up to them, learning to guard and protect. The PR thing had been good for her. She was protecting them without stifling them. Without letting them know who she really was. They wouldn't believe such an outrageous story. On Earth, humans were taught to believe in only one form of reality. Only angels knew there were many more.
She remember the reading of her charge as if it were yesterday. She was shown each one of the young men as they were nine years ago, around 1991. Not even together as one yet; they had not all met. They explained to her that the future hovered at their fingertips, if they knew how to search for it, angels could be psychics. Protect and guard this earthly group who will be coming into their own soon. Their name is Nsync. Their power is music, beautiful and winding. They sing with their hearts full of love. Do you remember love?
She hadn't been able to remember.
Well, you will learn again. You are to be an invisible guard to them, not interfering with their lives or attempting to change the outcome of any natural events. You are only there to protect, keep them from harm. When they go to Europe, you will follow as a devoted "fan," and when they go to the USA, you will get close to them so you are with them day by day. You will interact with them, and they with you. Nine years hence, you will return, to guard them from above.
Up there, time moved quickly but also slowed. Time blurred and also froze. Time was the angel's bidding. Eternity lasts forever. Even through destruction. Humans were resilient, born again to start time anew. Angels usually dwelled a hundred years or more upon this plane before either going higher or going to Earth for human life span.
When you come back here, it will be as if no time has passed at all, one of the arch angels told her. Or it will be as if all the time of the world has passed, but of course that is not possible.
Sometimes she wondered if going back would be like dying all over again. When angels were born into human bodies, they were born as babies carrying no knowledge of the higher planes. Such was not the case for the visiting nine year angel. The visiting angel was given a body whose soul had recently passed on; in an essence the two would trade places. Except when the body was empty, it would be empty forever.
Shaking off past moments, Andrea continued on. This was the guys' first day off—no interviews or photo shoots or concert preparations. Ironic, their first day off was her last day upon Earth—she wouldn't allow herself to dwell on it. Her final mission awaited. Her last free thoughts before she was sent to serve. Of course she didn't mind. This was who she was, a guardian. Be strong. For them.
~@~
She didn't know how long she'd been walking. She hadn't realized she still had the pear until it grew sticky in her hands. She pressed herself up into the shade of a building to finish it. She had to walk though crowds because running was too difficult and too suspicious. She didn't notice many people, and hoped she went unnoticed by others.
"Hey, little girl lost," a voice curled close to her face.
Startled, she jerked her head towards it. Flat, brown eyes stared at her. He was pale and dirty. Sickly, almost. Holding up something in a plastic bag. "Wanna fix, sweetie? The first one's free." His words slurred and his breath was heavy with liquor.
She opened her mouth to protest, pushing past him into the daylit streets. He remained in the shadows. It was too much to be seen.
She had no idea what city this was, or where she had been. The buildings loomed, showing off their glass and steel. She didn't know how to feel. Not turned away, but not quite welcomed either. She hoped they hadn't seen her picture. They'd know she was here, wherever here was. She needed to get out of here fast. She took a chance to look over her shoulder. Crowd. Crowd moving, pressing ahead. Welcoming day or work or whatever. Turning forward, she ran into someone. "Sorry," she mumbled, eyes downcast.
"Hey, it's you," a sweet voice breathed.
What? "Me?" She didn't think the druggie had followed her. No, no, it wasn't the druggie. It was a girl. Her eyes azure, a halo of blond hair almost floating around her head. She blinked. The girl before her was smiling and warm. Something new. People in cities weren't usually friendly or approachable. "Me?" she repeated finally. "I don't know you."
"No," the blond girl agreed. "But I saw you in the paper. Front page."
The dark girl cringed, and then her temper flared. She grabbed the blond girl by the arm, pulling her against a wall, somewhere they could have a more private conversation. "How did you know that was me? Did they send you? Are they here?" She began to look around in desperation, fear edging her voice. Right about now she wanted to find that photographer and kick the crap out of him, except it would do no good. Damage done. This was quite unusual, them sending a girl because as far as she knew, girls were not messengers but the hunted.
Andrea wondered what the girl meant. Her words were borderline paranoid. "Who?"
"Are you a spy? Well, you can just tell them that they aren't going to catch me, no way. I don't know what this new ploy is, trying to get some girl to befriend me and then turn me over to them, but I refuse to go without a fight!" The girl raised a fist towards Andrea.
Alarmed, Andrea ducked. This girl was more troubled than she had originally figured. But there was no turning back now; it would be betrayal on all sides. "Please," Andrea continued, putting both hands up in defense, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a PR for Nsync, you know, the bus you caught a ride on yesterday."
The girl froze, dropping her arm. The bus? The media worked too fast. Proof of existence. Who exactly was— "Nsync?"
Andrea almost laughed at her question. But she stifled it as she looked the girl over, realizing she was probably a runaway, that she didn't have time to keep up with anything. "Yeah, you know," Andrea began gently. "They're five guys who sing pop music. They're pretty famous."
"What do they sing?"
"Have you heard of Bye, Bye, Bye or Gone or Pop?"
The girl mused, trying to remember if she'd heard any of those songs. Some of it kind of sounded familiar. She eyed the blond girl. So, if this girl wasn't sent by them, what did she want?
"What's PR?"
"Public Relations. And I'm here to make you an offer."
The girl eyed her, still wondering how the blonde had managed to pick her out of a crowd of thousands as being the girl in the storm, the girl running away, and now, the found girl. Her eyes narrowed. "What kind?"
Andrea knew she would be suspicious; the sun rose high in the sky and the day was already fading. This girl looked as if she spent most of her time suspicious, wary. Could Andrea make her believe—? She gave the girl a once over, wondering if she could possibly explain everything to her.
The girl was antsy, glancing around into the faces swimming in the crowd. "Hey, I haven't got all day," she urged, her voice shaking slightly.
She couldn't. Humans held onto one version of reality. "Look, I can't go into great detail, but my name's Andrea and I'm a PR girl for Nsync. Now my job's secured, but I have to leave abruptly—there's some family problems at home," she improvised. "That's in Arizona. Gotta catch the next flight and I don't have enough time to tell the guys I'm leaving. So I was thinking as I read the paper this morning, 'wow, that girl has spunk, charisma. I bet she'd make a great PR girl.'"
"Me? Look, I don't know anything about being a—"
"It's not hard," Andrea continued. "I could tell you the basics, and you can learn the rest. Plus, it pays well, and you get to live on the bus with the guys during their tours."
The girl looked uncertain. I can't possibly do this job. It might put me in public view. It's going to interfere with my running— Her thoughts stopped dead and heart began its fluttering climb as it had at the newsstand when she recognized herself, her proof of existence. Oh my god. What if I've put them in danger? I don't even know them....What if those people are now following these Nsync guys...because of me? Oh god, oh god. She tried to calm her heart. The situation was growing tendrils which snaked in all directions. She was always alone. The run, the dark. Oh god, what have I done? I didn't know, I didn't know....Maybe, maybe I should stay close by them in case those creeps try anything—
She drew her lips into a thin line. "I—I don't have any money—"
"Here," Andrea said, thrusting some cash into the girl's open hand. She took it with trembling fingers, staring at it like it was something alien.
"Where's...um, here?"
"Hmm?"
"The city, the state?"
"Chicago, Illinois."
The girl continued to stare at the money, contemplating her options. There were really none. No good ones anyway. She could handle running with her own mistakes but just up and leaving when there was the off chance that she was endangering someone else's safety...someone she hadn't even met...heard of, really....A second flickered by as she wondered if they really existed. Did they have...proof of existence? And look at this girl...who did she think she was, coming by, asking for help...asking for help...didn't she know who she was asking? Didn't she know what she was asking? She forced herself to blurt out her sentence, "Do you have a picture of these guys?"
Andrea flashed a quirky smile while raising an eyebrow. She knew this girl was serious but she still couldn't help finding it funny. "We'll swing by a music store so you can check out their CD covers. Maybe we'll even get you a poster or several." The girl was looking her in the eye. "Hey, are you hungry?" She began walking and the girl followed, the two venturing back into the crowd circuit. "I'll buy lunch. My treat, 'K? And we can have a little discussion about your new job. The guys are really hot, which you will soon see"—she winked—"and funny. You'll love it."
The girl was still unsure but kept up, walking along side of Andrea. Perhaps curious, perhaps longing to take a shot at a normal life again. She knew already that was a dream fading into the water but she desperately wanted to know that dream, even a little bit of it, before it faded completely.
~@~
It was evening before the girl made it to Nsync's hotel. She had on some new clothes which Andrea had insisted buying for her. She hesitated, not wanting to go in the store, but in the end didn't fight it. Andrea gave her nothing too flashy; actually it was quite similar to her old attire, except it was brown—earthy—instead of black, and looked worn. She remembered glancing at herself in the dressing room mirror; the look of herself as both old and new was almost too much to take. It was a kind of shock, after not seeing herself in such an exaggerated length of time. She'd put on her "I-have-to-do-this" face, and then had let it soften. Just for a moment. A moment later, it meant nothing.
Andrea had made sure she'd eaten, and gave her what seemed like her entire supply of cash. "I have enough for the flight, don't worry," she had said when the dark girl tried to give her some money back. Andrea had been really nice, accommodating, like a guardian angel or something.
She still couldn't help feeling suspicious. It wasn't that this felt wrong, like a trap. She'd seen their pictures and CDs; she felt they were really real. Still, something kept nagging at her. She pushed it back like her past.
Andrea had given her her photo pass and told her what to tell everyone when she arrived. Andrea had also rattled on about what a PR job entailed, but most of it was a blur.
She went in, asking the man at the desk where to go, flashing Andrea's photo pass quickly before the man before the man had a chance to see it wasn't her. She made it up, knocking on their door. A guy with some facial hair around his mouth and chin opened the door. She stared at his obviously dyed blond-brown hair as he questioned her with a "Hello?" She showed him the pass and his eyes narrowed.
"Can I come in?" she asked, forcing her voice to be strong. This was much more difficult than running.
Joey wondered what was going on. Andrea had gone out hours ago, and it was almost dark now. This girl had Andrea's photo pass. He reluctantly let her through, thinking that if anything, they would have her trapped so the cops could come pick her up if she turned out to be something scary. "Guys, get out here," he called.
The girl waited patiently, clutching the pass. She began mentally counting their real presence.
As the other four made their way into the central room, she took them in. Usually she would study eyes, but there were too many now, too many on her, searching her for answers.
Joey crossed his arms. "She's got Andrea's pass."
Lance felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He immediately began juggling the worst possible thoughts.
"Hi," the girl said finally. "Andrea sent me. I'm an old friend of hers—I live just outside of Chicago. She was urgent when she called me. She said that her aunt is really sick, and that she needed to catch a flight to Arizona. She was sorry she didn't have time to tell you."
Lance stared at this girl in wonder. This girl had said Andrea's name right. Not An-dree-a as it was spelled.
"I didn't know Andrea had family in Arizona," Justin said in a low voice.
JC held up his hand. "So, how did you get her pass?"
"We met for lunch and she told me all about her problem. She said she wanted me to take her place as a PR for you until she got back."
Chris frowned suspiciously. Funny, cuz Andrea never mentioned much about herself— "So, what's your name?"
The girl froze. My name? My name? She couldn't remember it, could she? It was so close, yet also so alien. She hadn't used it in ages, said it aloud or written it down. Remember, no life story. No "[my name] was here."
"Ravena," a voice breathed.
The girl turned her head slightly, as if being fed words from someone behind her. Her eyes fluttered as if trying to fly from her.
"Remember. Never forget who you are, Ravena." The voice sounded oddly familiar.
They continued to stare at her with anticipation. They hadn't seem to have heard.
God, not even knowing my name. They must think I'm the biggest freak. "It's Ravena," the dark girl said. She stared at her hands, pretending it was all nervousness, hoping they'd buy that because they were big stars, they made her not be able to remember her own name. Yeah. That was it. She'd have to remember that one.
She made sure not to mention anything about the previous night. She could barely believe it herself; here she was, standing in front of the real people who really were.
Ra-veen-a. How could she have forgotten? Of all things, that was one important thing to remember.