(no subject)

[firebird84]

Ooh yes, Benji Madden *drools*

I am sincerely keeping my fingers crossed that my parents do give me the go-ahead to go over to the States while they're in the UK. I mean, I'll be twenty next year. TWENTY! I don't want to go to the UK, I have never wanted to go, and I never WILL want to go. I can't stand my heritage. The only part of it I like is the royalty part, but aside from that...

I'm going to be getting a job just as soon as I find out the hours that I can go to TAFE next year - I don't want to take morning classes, 'cause if I do go to the States and I go at a different time to my parents, I won't be able to get up early enough. Afternoon classes will work nicely. Oh please please please let them cave in...I haven't wanted to go to the USA half as much as anywhere else...

I've been writing a little tale I like to call 'Star' for the past week or so, and if it goes the way I'd like it to then it's going to be longer than NSAIG by far. Anyways, here's what I have so far - be warned, it's long...

Star

Prologue

I stifled a giggle at the sight of my twenty-two-year-old brother playing hide and seek with our two youngest sisters and our youngest brother. Avie might have insisted that at thirteen she was far too old to be playing children’s games, but there was absolutely no mistaking the happiness in her eyes. It was something we’d all felt over the past few weeks.

After four years of self-imposed exile in Australia, our family had at last returned to the States, and my brothers were on the verge of resuming their recording career. The musical landscape had changed since the pop revolution of 1997 (which my brothers had spearheaded) - rock, alternative and rap once again dominated the charts. The plan was to release the album that had been recorded during our extended holiday (between hospital stays), do some touring and then see what eventuated after that point.

“…seven, eight, nine, ten! Ready or not, here I come!”

I guess that, before I begin my tale, you deserve to know who I am.

My name is Tabitha Hanson. I’m the third-oldest Hanson kid and the oldest girl - I was born in 1984. My brothers put their career on hold for five years because just after New Year’s Day 2000, Taylor was diagnosed with a form of chronic leukaemia. We decided to make the move to Australia in 2001 for reasons that will become apparent (I hope) as my story is told.

So, where to begin? The beginning would be the most logical point. Here is the tale of a family, and of a star that narrowly escaped falling from heaven to earth.

Part One: 2000

Chapter 1

Life is such a bitch sometimes, isn’t it?

Little did I know that the Shooter song that I loved so much, from a TV series that I utterly despised, would become a mantra of sorts. Life’s a bitch. Life’s a bitch. Life’s a bitch.

Life is a fucking bitch.

Well, scratch New Year’s resolution number one off the list.

I looked around the hospital waiting room, trying to keep my mind off of why we were here. We were due to leave town any day now; the promotional tour for This Time Around would be starting soon, and even though we’d all had routine check-ups a few days earlier, Dr. Kelleher had called that morning and asked to see Taylor again; it was apparently just a precautionary measure. Something wasn’t right, though; our mother and I had been asked to stay out in the waiting room for one. Ordinarily I wouldn’t come along, but Taylor had asked me to, for ‘moral support’ I guess you could say.

“How much longer are they gonna be?” I complained.

As if on cue, Dr. Kelleher called the two of us into her office; Taylor was doing up his shoelaces as we entered. “Hi Mom,” he said quietly. “Hi Tabby.”

“Hey,” I replied in the same tone of voice.

“Mrs. Hanson, Tabitha, sit down please,” Dr. Kelleher requested. “I know you’re wondering why exactly you’re here, and that’s what I’d like to talk to you about.” She opened the folder that she had on the desk in front of her, lifting out a couple of charts. “You’ll remember that Taylor had some tests done a few days ago; the results came back this morning.”

I looked over at Taylor; he was looking at his shoes, playing with a thread that had come loose from his pullover. “Can we just get this over with?” he asked.

Dr. Kelleher managed a small laugh. “All right.” Her demeanour changed. “Judging from what Taylor himself has told me about illnesses he’s suffered and his sleeping patterns, and the test results, I’ve come to a fairly concrete diagnosis.” She paused. “What we’re dealing with here is a form of chronic leukaemia.”

I drew in a sharp breath and looked over at my twin; his face had gone pure white and he had started shaking. Finally he looked up and spoke, his voice trembling. “I…I have cancer?” he whispered. Dr. Kelleher nodded. “Oh my God…”

“There are some other tests that need to be done to determine exactly what form of leukaemia we are dealing with, after which we’ll start treatment.” She jotted down something on a piece of notepaper, tore it off and handed it to Mom. “It’s the name of an oncologist and where to find him; I’ll make an appointment for you to see him tomorrow. Until then I strongly suggest that you go home and get some rest.”

Rest? I thought as we left Dr. Kelleher’s office. Ha, like that’s gonna happen anytime soon.

The drive home was quiet - neither of us had thought to turn on the radio; we were each lost in our own thoughts. This was going to screw everything up - there was the upcoming tour to be considered, whether or not the album was actually going to be released this year, but the most pressing matter was going to be how to break the news to the family. I didn’t particularly want to be around when the bomb was dropped, but being Taylor’s sister I needed to be there for him. A sort of sibling obligation, if you will.

I looked back over my shoulder at Taylor as the car pulled up to the gate of our family’s property; I smiled at him, and he managed a weak smile in return.

“You okay?” I asked him.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “It…it hasn’t really sunk in yet.”

I nodded, understanding; it was probably going to take a while to come to terms with what was happening. No, scratch probably - it was definitely going to take a while. Nobody can ever be prepared for this kind of thing - a close family member being diagnosed with a terminal illness. It was the first time our family had come face-to-face with it so head-on, and there was no telling how we’d be affected by what was about to happen.

Jessie and Avie were dancing to a Sixpence None The Richer song when I followed Mom and Taylor inside and closed the door behind me. It was one of the songs from the Dawson’s Creek soundtrack, Kiss Me - I’d given them permission to borrow my copy of the CD, on the proviso that they took good care of it and returned it after they had finished with it. I hated the show, but I did have to admit that the show’s producers had hit the jackpot when it came to good music. The all-too-familiar sound of drums and guitar drifted up from the basement studio, entwining with the music that pounded from the stereo system - just an average afternoon practice run of Lonely Again, though without Taylor’s piano providing the main melody. While my parents herded Jessie and Avie into the living room, I traipsed downstairs and knocked on the door of the studio.

“Hey Tabby,” Zac said as I stepped in. “What’s up?”

“Mom wants you two to come upstairs,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level; I didn’t want to give anything away just yet. “It’s kinda important.”

“Important how?” Isaac asked.

“Important as in you two had better get your asses upstairs right now before Mom comes down here.”

Isaac and Zac exchanged glances; Zac slotted the drumsticks he’d been using into their proper place and we left the studio, climbing the short flight of stairs that led to the ground floor of the house. Everyone had gathered in the living room, which immediately alerted my brothers to the fact that whatever I’d hauled them out of practice for, it had to be serious.

“What’s going on?” Zac asked as I crossed over to sit beside Taylor; I reached for his hand and squeezed gently.

“We may have to rethink going on tour at this point in time,” Dad answered.

“What?” Isaac and Zac both said.

“Guys, please, just sit down and hear me out.” A pause. “Basically, Taylor is sick right now. He has…he has leukaemia.”

The room went so quiet after that statement that you could practically hear a pin drop.

“You’re kidding,” Zac said after a few minutes, breaking the tense silence. “You are kidding me.”

“It’s true,” Taylor said quietly. “I…I have to start treatment soon.”

“How soon is ‘soon’?” Isaac asked.

“As in this week sometime.”

I spoke up tentatively. “Can I please be excused?” I asked.

“Yes, Tabitha,” Mom agreed.

I hightailed it up to my bedroom and closed the door behind me, then crossed over to my desk and sat down in front of my computer. In a photo frame on top of my computer’s monitor was a photograph of me with two of my friends - Naomi Beckett and Taylor Knowles. I’d been partly in charge of keeping the crowd in line at the Melbourne ‘in-store’ appearance (the car park concert) two-and-a-half years earlier - they’d been front row centre. Basically we’d started talking while waiting for the concert to start, hit it off and exchanged email addresses. Both of them lived near Sydney, were cousins and had travelled to Melbourne especially for the concert. They knew exactly who I was, but they had never taken advantage of the fact. And we all thought it was damn funny that my brother and one of my friends shared a name. We were planning to meet up again in March.

Hoping that nobody would mind that I planned to tell my friends exactly what was going on, I surfed straight over to Yahoo and logged into my email account, then typed out an email.

From: ‘Tabitha Hanson’ < iceflame31484@yahoo.com >
To: ‘Naomi Beckett’ < wildcherry82@yahoo.com.au >
CC: ‘Taylor Knowles’ < bitchfromhell@bolt.com >
Subject: March
Date: Mon 3 Jun 2000 13:42:54 -0600

Hey guys,

I know that we planned to meet up in Sydney this March, but something’s come up and it’s pretty, well, serious. I know I can trust you with this, but I still gotta give you the usual warning. You must not tell anyone about what I say here. It’s gonna be worldwide news in a few days or so I’m guessing, but until then keep your mouths shut.

Basically…Taylor’s sick. Mom, Taylor and I went over to the hospital, ‘cause Dr. Kelleher wanted to see him again for some reason. And it turns out that he’s got some form of chronic leukaemia. We don’t know exactly what it is yet, but Tay’s going into hospital tomorrow to have more tests done, then he’ll be starting treatment. So, as it is, we really have no idea what’s going to happen now. I’ll keep you posted.

Tabby’

* * *
The release that I’d helped draft was sent to all the major media outlets a couple of days later. On Friday when I checked MTV.com, the news was up in the Hanson section of the website, clear as day.

This Time Around promotional tour cancelled

Oklahoma teen pop band Hanson has cancelled their scheduled upcoming promotional tour. According to a statement released to the media by the band, lead singer Taylor (16) has been diagnosed with chronic myeloid leukaemia. As a direct result of this development, all scheduled tours and appearances have been cancelled. The band’s second studio album, however, will be released as planned in the USA on May 9.

“Short, sweet and to the point.” I passed the printout to Taylor and he read it for himself. As he read and reread the clipping, I played with his IV line, twisting it loosely around my index finger. “But that’s MTV for you, I guess.” I sighed. “This bites.”

“What does?” Taylor asked as he slipped the printout into the drawer of his bedside table.

“This whole thing. You being sick, not being able to go overseas, missing out on hanging out with Naomi and Taylor…” I sighed again. “I haven’t seen those two since the last time we went to Australia, and I’m hanging out to see them again. We were planning to meet up a couple of days after we got there; Mom and Dad even told me I could stay with Naomi while you guys went gallivanting all over the east coast, and I was gonna join back up with the entourage when it went through Sydney again.”

“I don’t believe that,” Taylor laughed. “Tabby, tell me honestly; you’d pass up a concert of ours just to go and hang out with your friends?” He shook his head. “That’s insane, Tabby. Fucking insane.”

“I’ve seen you three perform more times than the average Hanson fan has,” I replied. “Let me see…there’s the six years’ worth of concerts at Mayfest, each and every TV appearance, all the concerts on the Albertane tour, all the promotional appearances. For the average Hanson fan to have racked up as many Hanson appearances as I have, they’d have to be seriously loaded.” I shrugged. “Besides, Dad would’ve got it on tape anyway; I wouldn’t really have missed it.”

“You have a point.”

“Hey, I might be blonde but I’m as smart as they come.”

Taylor snorted. “Bullshit,” he scoffed, enunciating each syllable. “Sis, you perpetuate the myth of the blonde ditz every time you open your mouth.” But he was smiling as he said this; I knew he was kidding. Taylor would never directly insult me; indirectly maybe, but never on purpose. It just wasn’t his nature.

“I so would tackle you if you weren’t sick,” I joked. He snorted again. “So…when do you get to come home?”

He shrugged. “A week or so, maybe. I think they want to keep me in here to make sure the chemo’s doing what it’s supposed to.” A quiet sigh. “I miss home so much already, you know. I miss seeing you guys every day, I miss sleeping in my own bed…I want to go home. But I can’t, not yet anyway.”

“You’ll be home soon,” I said softly.

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “I know.”

* * *
“So how’s Taylor holding up?”

I looked up from my cheeseburger and fries at Jake; he was the one who had posed the question. I shrugged and bit into my burger. “As well as can be expected,” I answered, having swallowed my mouthful of food. “He came home from the hospital a couple of days ago.”

“You guys aren’t going on tour anymore, are you?” Katie asked.

“Not right now, no,” I said. “Too much stress. They’re gonna release the album and a couple of singles, but that’s all. No promo tour, no TV appearances. We’re just gonna hang out at home, take it easy for a few months or so. Hell, maybe I just might be able to con Mom into letting me go to public school for my junior and senior years. Give me a chance at a normal life.”

“And the life you’re living now is anything but normal?” Chrissie asked, popping a couple of fries into her mouth.

“Chrissie, answer me this. Have you, or anyone in our group aside from me, ever left the Tulsa metropolitan area?” Chrissie rolled her eyes. “My point exactly. I’m fifteen years old, and for the past three years I’ve been mostly on the road, plus for half of 1996 I was in LA. I mean, I love travelling and all that shit, but sometimes I just wanna kick back and be a kid. And despite the fact that my family is going through one hell of a rough patch at the moment, this is the perfect time to do that. All I wanna do is hang out, take up a couple of new hobbies, be a kid for once in my life. I don’t seriously think that’s too much to ask.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Chrissie agreed.

My phone rang at that moment; I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen for who was calling. It read ‘Home’, so I pressed OK and answered.

“Hello?”

“Tabby, it’s Mom.”

“Oh, hey, what’s up?”

“Would you be able to watch your brother and sisters tonight? Your dad and I have to go out tonight, and Zac and Isaac have a meeting with Chris concerning recent events.”

‘Recent events’ was pretty much just a euphemism for what had happened earlier on in the week. Nobody really liked talking about it, and so we pretty much just skirted around the matter as much as was humanly possible.

“Yeah, I guess so. Tay’s not going to the meeting then?”

“No, he thinks it’d be better if he just stayed home and rested. You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind,” I replied. “I’ll be there.”

I hung up and returned my phone to my pocket. “Just my mom, wanting me to baby-sit tonight,” I explained. “Shouldn’t be too hard; I’ll just whip up some macaroni and cheese for dinner. Hopefully I’ll be able to get away with adding a little kick to it.”

“Tabasco sauce again?” Katie asked.

“Yep,” I nodded, grinning evilly. “They’re not gonna know what’s hit them.”

“I always knew you were demented,” Jake joked.

“Shut up you dork,” I retaliated, flinging a couple of fries at him.

I glanced at my watch and stood, shoving the copy of Seventeen I’d bought into my pack and slinging it over my shoulder. “I should really get going, you guys; I promised Jessie I’d help her to beat the first boss in Spyro 2.”

“That Crush guy?” Katie asked. I nodded. “That’s a cinch.”

“I know,” I answered, “but she asked me to help her out so I’m gonna do the sisterly thing and give her some hints.”

I farewelled my friends and set off out of the shopping mall, making for the bus stop - it was times like these that I couldn’t wait until my sixteenth birthday, which was in June - a whole five months down the track. I knew that I could’ve just called Mom, Dad or Isaac to come pick me up, but I liked showing that I could be independent. Besides, the twenty minute ride home would give me some time to think.

I hopped off the bus at the stop nearest home, slung my pack over my shoulder and wandered up the street to the house. I ducked into the garage when I finally got there, dodged parked cars and motorcycles and walked up the short flight of stairs into the house. The dining room, kitchen and living room were just as I expected them to look - neatly folded clothes in piles on the kitchen chairs; papers stacked haphazardly on the dining table; pots, pans and crockery stacked in the draining rack on the sink. Silverchair was playing on the kitchen radio, the sound of guitars drifted up from the basement studio, someone was watching TV in the living room, and I could hear kids screaming in the backyard, running around in the fading afternoon light. Just your typical Sunday afternoon in the Hanson household.

I dropped my pack behind the couch and peeked over the back to see who was lying there. Taylor was buried under a thick crocheted blanket, left arm in plain sight - I could clearly see the long, thin tube that ran from the treatment unit at his waist, up under his shirt and down into his arm, held secure by a couple of pieces of tape. He was watching a movie on cable, half-asleep.

“Hey,” I said quietly, draping my arm over the back of the couch and trailing my fingers down his forearm.

“Tabby, would you please stop that?” he asked sleepily. “You’re tickling me.”

“Sorry,” I said, moving my hand to trail on his cheek. He slapped my fingers away and shot me a warning look. “So, what’re you watching?”

“Just some movie; The Craft I think.”

I looked at the TV in time to see Skeet Ulrich tumbling backwards out of a second-floor window. “Yep, that’s The Craft all right,” I confirmed. “That’s a good movie.”

The phone started ringing, and Taylor reached over and picked up the cordless handset. “Hello?” he answered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Oh, hey Lissa…yeah, I’ll put it on speakerphone, hang on…” He glanced up at me and I reached over to the phone cradle, pressing the speakerphone button.

“Hey guys,” came the voice of our cousin Melissa Lawyer, the oldest daughter of Mom’s brother David. She lived in Massachusetts. “Tay, how’re you holding up?”

“I’m fine, considering the circumstances.” Another euphemism. “I’ve been on the chemo a bit more than a week and I feel horrible.”

“It’ll get better,” Melissa reassured him. “Give it time.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens,” Taylor replied cynically. “Not a moment before.”

“Tay, look on the bright side. Right now, you don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations. All you have to do is get better, and you’ve got all the time in the world to do that.”

Taylor shifted under the blanket, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Lissa, this is actually one of the worst times in the world for me to be sick, or any of us for that matter. In four months we’re releasing our first album on the new label. We got so freaking lucky this time, and I don’t want to push what luck we have.”

“Tay, don’t think about that; you’ll just put more stress on yourself, and you don’t need that right now,” Melissa advised. “I’ll be coming over for your birthday in March, and when I get there I don’t want to see you running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You need to relax.”

“Yeah, everyone’s been telling me that, and I have been.”

“He‘s telling the truth, Liss,” I said. “Right now he’s lying on the couch, watching The Craft, and has been since before I got home from hanging out with my friends. And he’s going to stay there until he goes to bed, aren’t you Jordie?”

Taylor growled warningly at my use of his childhood nickname.

“Well you guys, I gotta jet,” Lisa said after about twenty-five more minutes. Our parents, Isaac and Zac had already left, leaving me in charge. “I have dance class this evening, and I still have to take a shower. I’ll catch you guys later.” A click, and she’d hung up.

“Speaking of jetting,” I said, replacing the cordless in its cradle, “I have to get dinner started. I’m making macaroni and cheese if you want any.”

“No thanks,” Taylor said, pulling the blanket right up to his chin. “Just put some in the fridge for me; I’ll try to eat it later. I’m not really that hungry right now.”

“Well, okay.” I nodded and left the living room, one thought on my mind - whether he would be the same when the cancer finally loosened its tight grip. And somehow, I didn’t think he would be.

Chapter 2

“Mom! Mackie broke my Barbie doll!”

Avery’s annoyed shriek drifted upstairs; forcing me from a deep sleep. It couldn’t be any more than nine in the morning; my suspicions were confirmed when my vision straightened out enough for me to be able to see properly. The glaring red digits on my alarm clock flashed 9:07.

I rolled over onto my back. The wind chimes that Naomi and Taylor had sent me for Christmas hung from the ceiling, glittering in the winter sunlight filtering through my curtains. February was half-over, and everything was going well so far. As much as I enjoyed travelling around the world, sometimes it was good to just kick back at home and relax. One good thing about the tour having been cancelled (though I would never have wished this on anyone) was that I had been able to sleep in every morning; my usual, enforced wake-up time was six-thirty sharp. On tour it was always a great deal earlier - sometimes I would finally get to sleep at around three, only to be woken two or three hours later. I hated it more than anything, but I endured it (not always good-naturedly though).

After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, I hopped out of bed and got dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved Aztec Rose shirt that had been part of my Christmas present (courtesy of Naomi’s sister Catherine) and a Kangaroos football jumper (courtesy of Taylor’s older brother Luke), then wandered downstairs to the kitchen. It was near-deserted save for Jessie doing some homework, twirling a cherry candy cane leftover from the Christmas stash in her fingers, and Isaac watching her, coffee cup in hand. I arrowed right for the fridge and started rummaging around, looking for something decent to eat. I found half of a homemade chocolate and cherry cake on the second shelf from the bottom and pulled it out, cut myself a substantial piece and returned the plate to the fridge.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as I broke a bite of cake off with my fingers and popped it into my mouth. “I’m guessing that Tay’s probably still in bed, right?”

“Yeah,” Isaac confirmed. “Everyone else is out, doing the grocery shopping.”

I nodded, picked up my cake and bit into it. “Y’know, we’d probably be in Europe right now if everything had gone to plan,” I said idly. “Makes you appreciate the smaller things in life.”

“You’re not wrong there.”

I looked over at the kitchen doorway at the owner of the voice. It was Taylor, and, for the first time since beginning his treatment, he had a scarlet bandanna tied over his hair. “‘Morning,” he said quietly as he sat down beside Jessie and plucked a candy cane from the jar on the kitchen table - a blueberry one. He unwrapped about an inch and stuck it into his mouth. “Couldn’t sleep,” he explained around the candy cane. “Bit hard when Avery’s screaming about that damned Barbie doll of hers.” I giggled. “It’s not funny, Tabby.”

“I shouldn’t laugh, I know; she woke me up too. I would still been in bed if she’d just kept her mouth shut.”

Taylor managed a faint smile.

“Tay, you guys have that press conference soon, don’t you?” I asked as I finished my piece of cake.

“Tabby, please, don’t remind me,” he complained. “I don’t want to think about that more than I have to. It’s bad enough that I’ve got cancer, without the whole world knowing about it as well.”

“They would’ve found out sooner or later,” Jessie piped up.

It had taken at least a week’s worth of meetings and discussions, but a decision had at last been made concerning my brothers’ career. It had been decided that their career would be put on hold indefinitely, and that the album that had been recorded over the summer of 1999 would be released, but there would be no tour to promote it. In essence, Hanson was breaking up. There was no telling just how long Taylor would have the cancer for, or even if he would live through it, so until further notice the band would be merely a memory - a reminder of how things used to be. When he was in the clear, the band would reform. It was just the way it had to be.

The kitchen phone rang, shattering the mid-morning quiet. I reached over to the cradle, lifted off the cordless handset and anchored it between my ear and shoulder. “Hanson residence, Tabitha speaking.”

“Hey Tabs, it’s Naomi.”

I grinned. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Not much, actually, you?”

“A lot,” I replied. “There’s something I want to tell you, and you must promise me that what you hear is not repeated to anyone, until later on this month at least. You can tell Taylor, but nobody else. Don’t even write it in that diary of yours in case someone reads it. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Naomi replied. “Now spill.”

“Hanson is breaking up.”

“What?” Naomi asked in incredulity. “Why?”

“Think about it, will you? My twin has cancer. He needs to recover, and at the same time he’s undergoing treatment to hopefully get rid of it. If we’re on tour and away from home, his doctor can’t keep an eye on him. We’re just going to live as normal lives as possible until everything goes back to normal. Well, as normal as it can be when it comes to this family. When Tay’s better, the band will reform, but for now…it’s just a distant memory.”

“A distant memory,” Naomi repeated.

“Exactly. The album’s still going to be released and all that, but there won’t be any tour. We’re just going to kick back at home, I’m going to do my best to talk Mom into letting me go to public school, and we’re just going to do our best to pretend that our family is just like any other.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor stand up abruptly, drop his half-eaten candy cane on the table and bolt from the room.

“Shit,” I whispered. “Naomi, can you hang on a sec?”

“Yeah, sure-” I dropped the handset on top of a folded-over dishtowel that sat on the kitchen bench next to the wooden breadbox, cutting off the end of Naomi’s sentence, and ran after Taylor. I found him in the downstairs bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, throwing up. His bandanna was off, and he had one hand entwined in his hair - what was left of it anyway. And it wasn’t much.

I snatched the washcloth off of the bathroom vanity and soaked it in cold water, wrung it out enough to stop it dripping, and gently placed it on the back of his neck; he glanced up at me momentarily.