JetStream

The nurse gives the guys an annoyed glance, but points towards Katie’s room.

“Woo!” Mike spins around. “See? Told ya we’d find her. C’mon.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Well we still haven’t found Jason.”

“Stop being so pessimistic,” Mike chides and heads for Katie’s door. He pauses and cautiously taps on the door before opening it all the way and entering. Seeing Katie, he smiles big. “Hey there! Thanks for rescuing us from Sergeant Nurse out there. Didn’t realize the security was so tight.”

Phil trails in behind him and sees flowers on Katie’s table. He slaps his forehead. “See now? Mike, you were in such a hurry and we didn’t even pick up any flowers or nothing.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah, oops.”

Kyle ignores the other two and looks around the room. “This ain’t so bad.”

Mike raises an eyebrow. “Huh?”

Kyle shrugs. “Well I expected, ya know, like wires and beeping, and one of those machines that goes whoor,whooth,” he creates a heavy breathing sound. “You know, like Darth Vader.”

Phil slaps him upside the head before turning to Katie. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s only been out of the mental institution for a year now, and we still haven’t been able to reform him.”

Kyle smirks. “He’s just jealous of my intellect.”

Mike moves closer to Katie and extends his hand. “Pardon the intrusion. I’m Mike Kelly, this is Phil Mitts and his brother Kyle. We’re the band, JetStream.”

Kyle nods. “And you must be Kate.”

“Katie,” Phil corrects.

“Right. Katie Preston.”

“Peyton.”

“Paul.”

Mike throws his hands in the air as he notices Katie’s clipboard on the foot of her bed. “Pent!”

“That’s it!” Kyle exclaims.

Mike rolls his eyes and tosses Katie a wink. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, we’re looking for your boyfriend.”

Phil elbows him. “He’s not her boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah. That’s the other guy, Will.”

“Wesley.”

“Wyatt,” Kyle intervenes and gives Katie a flirtatious grin. “Too bad, too.”

Mike rolls his eyes and turns back to Katie. “At any rate, we’re looking for Jason. He was supposed to give us a call in a couple days, but we tried to get a hold of him yesterday instead and we couldn’t, so we thought we’d swing by here.”



Con parks on the street and exits his car. He goes to the restaurant door to open it for Jamie, then steps inside behind her, having to duck so his head doesn’t hit the bell. He slides into a booth and yawns, before setting his elbows on the table and resting his tired face in his hands. Sighing, he lifts his eyes and goes for a menu. “I’m in the mood for something different,” he states, trying to move his mind past the problems at hand. “I’m thinking…pizza.”