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I'm having one of "those" days, ya know where nothing is going right and you long passed gave up caring.

So, how about that happening to one of the guys and they get either a visit or phone call to get them out of their funk? Pairing is up to you, at this point I'm not picky.

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From:

ravenbat.livejournal.com

Some days just suck

He sits on the sofa with a silly grin on his face, phone held close to his ear and listening intently as his goddaughter happily sings her own version of "I Just Called To Say I Love You."

He didn't know how Joey knew to let her call him, but Lance was thankful. He'd truly had one of the worst days of his life.

At 4am he'd been startled awake by his phone ringing. He'd gotten home so late that he'd forgotten to turn the phone off or the answering machine on. Fumbling in the dark for the phone, he'd knocked it off the nightstand and onto the dog, who cried and growled. He'd proceeded to hang half off the bed and feel around on the floor for the phone in the dark only to poke the dog in the eye and get bitten for his trouble. The phone had continued to ring. Moving to sit up and turn on the bedside light, he'd managed to fall off the bed, the phone under his right hip and kicking the dog; which of course the dog bit him in revenge. He raised his hip to retrieve the phone and punched the button to accept the call only to be greeted with a dialtone. Frustrated, Lance had flung the phone across the room, aiming in the dark for his pile of discarded clothes from the night before and missing. As the phone sailed through the glass balcony door it began to ring again and of course, the shattering of the glass door set off the house alarm.

He'd been livid when he discovered that someone, he suspected Chris, had changed his emergency password with the alarm company and his anger had increased tenfold when the security guard the alarm company sent had hauled him out of the house in his boxer briefs until the police arrived. He knew he'd be hearing about the entire situation at the next meeting of his neighborhood home association.

Furious and cold from being out in the night air, he'd stomped into the house once the police verified that it was in fact his house. He'd then spent the next forty-five minutes on the phone with the alarm company getting all his passwords changed again.

continued next reply...

From:

ravenbat.livejournal.com

He'd gone into the kitchen to make himself something warm to drink. He'd been turning from the sink with the carafe of water, intending to make a pot of hot water using the coffee maker. Intending was the right word for it. The carafe had slid from his hands and shattered on the floor. Glass and water went everywhere, including all over his bare feet, which of course, no matter how carefully he tried to step across the room to get the broom and dustpan, he still managed to cut himself.

Floor swept clean of glass, water mopped up and his cuts tended as best as he could do on his own, Lance decided that he'd just try to go back to sleep. He'd like to be asleep before the sun came up at least, or he knew he'd never manage to sleep. He couldn't sleep in his room until the balcony door was fixed, so he'd gone into one of the spare bedrooms and stretched out on the bed. He'd just been about to fall asleep and heard the phone downstairs begin to ring. "Ha!" He thought to himself, I turned the machine on this time. He laid there and listened to the ringing cease and the machine's message began only to cut off when the caller hung up. Within moments, the phone began to ring again. The same pattern happened. The phone rang, the machine's message started, the caller hung up. And it happened again. And again. As the phone began to ring for the fifth time, he flung the covers off his legs and stormed out of the bedroom, cussing under his breath and heading for the stairs.

Half way down the stairs, he'd stumbled, fell the rest of the way down and landed on his right hip again. The phone had cycled through its pattern of ring, partial message, hang up twice more in the meantime. Pulling himself up to his feet, he limped over to where he'd left the phone after talking to the alarm company and snatched it, pressing the button to answer as it began to ring again.

"This better be good." He growled into the receiver without looking at the caller ID.

A giggling voice replied, "oh my gawwwwwwwd. Is this Lance Bass?" More giggles.

Lance wanted to scream. It wasn't even daylight outside and he had some giggling chick calling him. How in the name of all that was holy did these people keep getting his phone number?

"Wrong number." He replied and disconnected the call. He turned the phone's ringer to low and the answering machine off. He couldn't see any point of even trying to go back upstairs to bed. He had a brunch meeting scheduled in under six hours. He'd just lay down on the sofa and try to at least catch a nap.

The day got worse after his nap, he'd been so out of sorts, he'd not turned on the phone ringer after he awoke, nor the answering machine. He'd left the house without his cell phone and arrived at the meeting to find that it had been moved to another location and the time changed. Speeding across town to make it before the meeting was over, he'd managed to not only get a ticket but a flat tire.

But, now he was home. His goddaughter was singing sweetly that she loved him. Kicking his feet up onto his coffee table and luring the dog closer to him with a doggie cookie. He figured that his evening was going to be a lot better than his morning.

....end...