Taylor pressed the small 1-inch round magnetic disk against the security square on the door and listened for a low buzz that would indicate that it was working and allow him to punch in the four code numbers on the numeric control panel beside the door. He didn’t hear it. He pressed it again and again, and even punched in the code key numbers but the door wasn’t working. It was becoming a joke, one that he didn’t appreciate, that he was the only one that couldn’t figure out how to get the security system to work at the studio. In frustration he pounded on the window, knowing fully well that everyone was inside the soundproof studio and wouldn’t hear him. He would have to wait until someone came looking for him--again. What a pain. If they were going to have security this tight why did they have the bathroom outside of the main office complexes and out in the hallways? Taylor heard a door open down the hallway and he let out a shout.

"Hey, don’t let the door shut!" Because the doors were recessed two feet from the hallways, he couldn’t see who was at the door until he ran the twenty feet distance. 

‘Hey, Larry! Thanks!" Taylor exclaimed jamming his foot into the frame of the heavy glass door to keep the door from closing. 

"I should have known it was you," the man laughed.

Taylor grinned up at the man who was one of their music technicians. "What are you doing in today? I thought we were just doing voice-overs to the community service announcement." 

The man stuck out his hand to the teenager. "It’s been fun working with you kid,"

Taylor’s smile disappeared. "You going to work for another band?"

"Nah, the word’s kinda out on the street about me. I may try something else for a while."

"Larry, you’re not using again, are you?" Taylor demanded trying to look directly into the mans’ eyes. 

"Nah, not now," he denied. "But, I couldn’t pass the test, so I got my walking papers."

"So you have been using, again" Taylor summarized. "Larry, you signed the contract agreeing to random drug testing. Why would you start using again, knowing you’d get fired?"

"Hey, I don’t need any lectures from a kid," Larry snarled, beginning to look angry.

"Okay, okay," Taylor agreed. "But, what if I talk to Dad? Maybe he’ll give you another chance."

"Won’t do no good, I’ve used up all my chances," Larry exclaimed. He stuck out his hand and Taylor shook it. "See you around kid, stay clean."

"I will," Taylor promised watching the technician walk down the hallway and out of the building. 

A lot of crew and technicians were here one day and gone and the next, but Larry had been with Hanson for over a year. So had his problem with drugs. Larry had only worked for the Hanson camp for a couple of months when they started suspecting something was wrong. He was often late, sometimes not showing up at all, and when he did it was obvious that he was strung out on something. Walker somehow managed to keep him away from the younger kids, but the older Hansons figured out what was going on. Over the past year, Larry had only worked several months, most of the time he had been in drug rehabilitation. After he came out the second time, Walker had made him sign a contract with a random drug testing clause. Obviously, he had failed.

Taylor went into the studio and went in search of his father. He knew the crew was waiting on him back in recording studio but he needed to talk to his Dad. He found Walker making coffee in the small kitchen area outside of the recording areas. 

"Dad, I just ran into Larry." Taylor exclaimed.

Walker looked up from his task. "Did he tell you?"

Taylor nodded. "Dad isn’t there anything we can do for him? Send him to a rehab center again or something?"

Walker put the coffee pot down and turned to his son. "Tay, we’ve tried that twice already. Larry won’t be magically cured by sending him to rehab. He has to want to stop taking drugs and I don’t think he’s at that point yet."

"But, we have to do something!" Taylor exclaimed.

"What?" Walker asked. "Tell me what we should do? I can’t have a crew member hanging around my kids, that is a drug addict. We’ve already done exactly what the union suggested we do and more. We’ve sent him to rehab, twice now. It isn’t working. He’s been on the payroll for over a year and he’s only worked five months of that time. Every time Larry goes to rehab, it costs the insurance carrier about $300,000 dollars. They’re going to want to re-coop that money. Our insurance rates have skyrocketed because of him. Who has to pay that increase? Do I pass it on to the crew? Do they deserve to have a huge increase in their insurance premiums because of one persons drug problem. No, it comes out of our pockets, out of Hanson, Inc. and that’s not fair to us. We’ve given Larry every chance possible and he’s blown every one of them. I am not willing to continue this. I suspected he was using again, and I ask him take a test this morning. He refused. That tells me knows he wouldn’t pass it. He knew that by refusing, he was essentially quitting."

"Or being fired," Taylor said. "It just doesn’t seem right, there should be something we can do. Force him to get serious about quitting."

"You can’t force a grown man to do anything," Walker exclaimed. "He has to want to get help. Larry doesn’t. It has been offered. I talked to a union guy this morning and they said they would help get him into treatment again. He refused. We can’t do anymore for him. I’m sorry Tay."

"I know you did your best Dad," Taylor said unhappily. "Well, I’m holding up the rest of the crew, so I’d better get back to work."

"Good idea," Walker said putting his arm around his son’s shoulder and giving him a squeeze. "Tay, don’t feel bad or guilty. You have been a good friend to Larry. It’s just one of those bad situations that never gets better unless someone takes action, for better or worst. This is the nasty side of show business that I didn’t want you kids to see."

"Dad, drug use is everywhere," Taylor protested. "It’s not just show business. You know you can’t protect us from everything bad."

"That’s my job, son." Walker said sadly. "If you don’t mind I’ll keep trying."

Hanson was performing an encore of Man from Milwaukee. They were exhilarated from the performance but also tired from the hot lights and a long show. Taylor was belting out the last chorus of the song and pounding the keyboard and keeping the beat with the pounding of his foot on the floor. He looked over at his older brother Ike and sent him a look of desperation. Ike nodded his head in agreement and continued trying to synchronize his guitar strokes with the beat that Taylor was setting to end the song with a flourish. The audience was making so much noise, and so absorbed into the stage show that most of them were unaware that the drummer, their younger brother Zac, had been playing slightly offbeat since the song began. With the song ended and the show over Taylor smiled and waved to the crowd enthusiastically as he headed for the center of the stage to meet Isaac and Zac for a final bow. Isaac was also smiling and waving, but Zac stood back slightly from his brothers and then finally he took their hands and they bowed together and then ran off the stage. As they were escorted out of the staging area and through crowds of waiting fans, Taylor and Isaac continued to smile. The youngest band member of Hanson brought up the rear of the entourage keeping his distance slightly behind them. They all jumped onto the awaiting bus and the door slammed behind them.

"Geez, Zac," Ike complained turning to Zac just as the door closed behind him. "Do you think you could have screwed up the beat any more to that song?"

"I was on beat," Zac retaliated. "You guys were off!"

"We were dead on," Taylor added his complaint to Ike’s. "You were off. What’s wrong with you? And, you could have at least pretended that you were having fun, a smile wouldn’t have broken your face."

"Oh yeah, pretty boy, I’ll..." Zac threatened.

"Enough, guys," Walker Hanson said interrupting what he knew could turn into a full blown fight at any second. "Zac, for whatever reason, you were off the beat tonight and your brothers were covering for you very well out there. Let’s hope the reviewers are as forgiving."

"He’s been off beat or out of synch or switching lyrics for the last couple of performances," Taylor complained. He looked to Ike for confirmation and as he thought he would, his brother nodded in agreement. Both of the older Hansons were perfectionists when it came to their work. They allowed very little margin for error in their work and expected the same from their brother and from the other band members.

"I said, enough," Walker said quietly and giving his two older sons a look of warning. "You’re tired, cranky and you’re getting on each others nerves. You need some rest and some time off. This is the last performance before Christmas. You’ll get the next three weeks off and I think we can all use that time to recoup some good humor and try to get back to normal. Hit the bunks. We’ll be back in Tulsa before morning."

Taylor and Isaac followed their father’s orders. They knew they were orders too, because although their father spoke softly and rarely raised his voice, he conveyed his moods by the inflection in his voice. And, this voice clearly said he was in no mood to play referee between his sons. They filed down the hallway, kissed their mother goodnight and took turns squeezing into the small bathroom onboard the bus to clean up before retiring. Although most people thought that life on the road as a rock star was luxurious it wasn’t. Traveling by bus meant crowded conditions, whiling away hours of boredom and learning to sleep to the rocking motion of the bus. They would have to wait until they got home to shower and change. It was only four hours to Tulsa, so they took off their boots and climbed into bunks with their clothes on.

Zac waited and watched his brothers disappear down the hall and still he waited. When he didn’t move his father finally turned to him with a questioning look. The boy looked down to the floor but he held his ground and finally he looked up and said. 

"Dad, I need to talk to you."

Walker Hanson looked down at his thirteen-year old son who wasn’t quite making eye contact with him and thought he looked quite guilty of something. "It can’t wait until we get home?" he asked.

Zac shook his head slightly and bit down on his lower lip and suddenly looked very young and very confused. His Dad put his arm around his son’s shoulders and led him into the small TV room of the bus and pulled the sliding door shut.

The Hansons arrived home at four am in the morning. Walker and Diana woke their sleeping children and guided them into the own house and into their own beds. The younger children, already in their pajamas were back to sleep in a matter of minutes. 

Ike retreated to his private room, Taylor retreated into his private room and Zac retreated into his bedroom that he shared with his youngest brother five-year old Mackie. When they moved to a bigger house, it had been hard to get used to separate rooms. In the old house the three older boys had been tripping over each other in their small room, especially as they grew older and bigger. In the new house Ike and Taylor as the oldest got to have their own rooms and the younger children shared rooms. Zac with Mackie and Jess with Avie. Zoe, the year old baby was in a small room that was attached to their parents bedroom. As their parents had explained, as Ike and Taylor progressed to living on their own, the younger kids would move up into their rooms in order of age. So Zac would get his own room, if and when Ike ever decided to move out on his own. Zac really didn’t mind sharing a room with his younger brother, he was used to sharing his space. But he did miss the idea of knowing that his two older brothers were right there if he needed them. He was kind of in the habit of just turning over and saying Ike or Tay’s name and them being awake and responding immediately. All three of the boy’s rooms were on the same side of house and had adjoining doors with two baths between the three rooms. Zac heard the showers going and since he was too tired to wait his turn he curled up on his bed and soon he was sound asleep.

As Taylor turned over his eyes opened immediately. His internal clock told him it was morning although it was still dark outside. He was early riser, the only one among his siblings. He listened for a moment and the house was still silent as everyone slept. He slipped out of bed quietly and headed downstairs to the studio. He had a few ideas that he wanted to get on paper before discussing them with his brothers. Whereas Ike and Zac liked to collaborate on their music from the start, Taylor liked to have his stuff almost complete before he asked for their input. Once inside the studio, he could play out the tunes on the piano until he was satisfied with the results. As far as he was concerned, Taylor thought that having their own music studio in the house was the best perk so far of their musical careers. He missed their old house, but when they had tried to make the garage into a studio it hadn’t worked very well. It wasn’t soundproof and he was always getting yelled at for playing on the piano in the early pre-dawn hours. Now, when they were home, he could play for hours without anyone even knowing he was up and awake.

Taylor began fingering the keyboard, playing and replaying notes and when he was satisfied writing the results on the score paper. Soon he got that spaced out look that drove his brothers crazy because he was ‘zoned out’ in his own world of thought and music. 

Diana Hanson pulled on her robe and left her husband sleeping soundly as she slipped out of their bedroom and headed for the kitchen. She put on pot of coffee and had barely had to time to pour herself a cup when Walker entered the kitchen with the baby in his arms. Walker swapped her the baby for a cup of coffee and they sat down at the table for a few minutes of peace before their day was to begin. 

"When are you going to tell the boys?" she asked.

Walker gave a sigh of trepidation. "Probably right after breakfast."

Diana nodded her head in agreement at his words and then she tilted her head and listened carefully. "Do you hear that? Tay is up already and in the studio. That boy, doesn’t he ever sleep?"

Walker laughed. "Only when he’s dead tired and then only for a few hours. Everyone thinks Zac is our hyperactive child, when it’s really quiet Tay. I’ll go get him."

Taylor didn’t look up as his father entered the studio. That was because he didn’t hear him. When Taylor immersed himself into his music he had the most uncanny ability to shut out the world and all its distractions. Walker listened as he played a chorus of music and put his hand on his son’s shoulder causing him to jump unexpectedly. "Is breakfast ready?" Taylor asked with a smile.

"It hasn’t even been started." his Dad said with a grin. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," Taylor said sidestepping the question. "I’m starving!"

"Then you’d better get upstairs and talk to your Mom because I think the cupboard is bare and one of us is going to have to go to the grocery store before the kids get up." his Dad suggested.

"Maybe she’ll let me drive!" Taylor exclaimed and took off up the stairs’ two at a time. 

By the time Walker had followed his son back up the stairs, Taylor was already begging his mom to take him with her on the routine trip to the grocery store. His second son’s priorities at the moment were music and learning to drive and everything else placed itself as a bad third or fourth in his priorities.

Diana was hedging on the idea of allowing her son to drive. She had her reasons. First, Taylor, thus far had proven himself to be a terrible driver and second, outings of any kind with any of her sons usually resulted in speedy exits and escape routes necessary to evade fanatical fans. 

"Please Mom." Taylor begged. "How am I ever going to get any practice if you guys won’t take me out?"

"Tay, the last time I took you out you were attacked by a woman in her thirties!" Diana exclaimed.

Taylor blushed at the memory and then grinned to tease her. "Perk of the job!" he claimed. "Please, who is going to be out at 7:00 am on a Sunday morning. We’ll probably be the only ones at the store, everyone else is just waking up and getting ready for church."

Diana allowed herself to be talked into letting Taylor drive. Normal activity wasn’t easy for her sons and he had studied hard to learn all the driving rules. What he needed most was practice and that just required nerves of steel for whoever got the job of sitting beside him.

Taylor put the vehicle in reverse and backed the twelve passenger van carefully out of the garage and then accidentally pressed the brakes to hard throwing both himself and his mother forward against their seatbelts. "Sorry," he mumbled and then continued to back the van into a three point turn that he knew was required for the test and turned the van around in the driveway. From that point on they just moved forward through a maze of side streets and alleys until they reached their destination twelve miles away. It would have been a faster trip to have taken the main roads, but that also might have attracted attention and he didn’t want to attract any fans that he would have to dodge or attract any police to his lack of driving skills. They arrived safely in the parking lot of grocery store and Taylor pulled the van into a parking space further out in the lot so he wouldn’t have to park to close to other vehicles. 

His mother smiled a weak smile of approval at his driving skills or perhaps the fact that she arrived in one piece and picked up her purse off the floor. "Are you going in, or waiting here?" she asked.

"Going in," Taylor said. "I promised to help."

With two carts they went through the grocery isles very quickly. Diana was constantly looking over her shoulder and peering past her son looking for someone lurking behind an end isle or counter. Even after two years, she still wasn’t accustomed to the hysterical reactions her sons induced from seemingly normal people, mostly female. It wasn’t until they reached the cashier that Taylor was recognized. He noticed immediately, because she began to stutter and point and repeat "Oh my God" over and over again. 

"Don’t panic," he warned the young cashier. "It’s just me."

"Oh, my God. You’re Taylor Hanson!" the girl screeched. 

"Same person I was five minutes ago picking out bananas in the produce section." Taylor said calmly unloading the cart up on the conveyor belt. 

"Will you sign an autograph for me?" the girl whispered.

"Only, if you promise to check us out quickly." Taylor said grinning. He picked up a produce pen and scrawled his name across her nametag. 

The cashier looked a little glazed and shocked but she started moving the grocery items across the code bar scanner. 

Taylor waited until the groceries started to move forward and started unloading the second cart. "Mom, there is a guy outside selling Christmas Trees. Can we get one?"

"Tay, it’s only December 1st. It’s too early. If we get it now it will be too dried out by Christmas," his mother warned but relented a little when she saw his disappointment. "But, we could use a couple of wreaths for the doors to start decorating."

Taylor smiled and kissed his mom on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom! I’ll go get them." Then he slipped past her to get out of the store and out of the glare of the staring cashier.

The Christmas tree sales were set up in a shack paralleling the parking lot. Taylor looked over some the trees and then turned his attention to the wreaths that were hanging on a wall of lattice that was part of the shack structure. 

"You gonna buy a tree, mister?"

Taylor looked down and saw a little boy of about four or five looking up at him expectantly. "I’d like to, but I think I’ll get a couple of these instead."

"You can come back for a tree later," the little salesman suggested. 

Taylor looked at the little boy and smiled. He was about Mackie’s age, but exactly the opposite in coloring. Where Mackie was a small replica of his brothers, blond and pale this little fellow was a child of color with big chocolate brown eyes and black curly hair. "Is your Mom or Dad around here somewhere?" Taylor asked a little surprised that he hadn’t seen anyone looking over him. 

"That’s my grandma over there," the little boys said pointing to a woman in her forties selling a tree to another customer. 

"So you’re helping your grandma." Taylor said picking up his two wreaths. "I have a little brother about your age. Have you been to see Santa yet to tell him what you want for Christmas?"

The little boy cocked his head and looked up at the boy towering over him. "There ain’t no Santa."

Taylor stopped and looked down surprised. "Sure there is!" he protested, used to preserving the myth for his younger brother and sister.

The little boy just shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You’re too old to believe in Santa. Momma says he’s just a old man who is paid to sit in the mall so people can pay to get their little kids pictures taken with him."

"But don’t you want anything for Christmas?" Taylor asked a little surprised to hear such cynical logic from such a little boy. The family was trying very hard to make sure Avie and Mackie still maintained their belief.

"Sure, I want a bicycle, one with only two wheels even if my Momma says I have to use the training wheels until I learn how to ride it. But Momma says I’ll only get it, if the Tip Box is good this year."

Taylor put his two wreaths up on the makeshift counter in the shack and pulled out his wallet to pay for them. There was small cigar box on the counter with a handmade sign on it "TIPS". Mindful of little boys’ words he dropped several dollars into the box although no one had done anything of service for him besides taking his money for his purchases. He carried them over to the van and opened up the back and placed them inside and then waved at the little boy again. He saw his mother pushing one cart and dragging another through the automatic doors of the store to the outside. He jumped into the van and carefully drove it up to meet her and then put it in park and jumped out to help her load it up.

The whole driving and shopping trip didn’t take more than an hour and a half with very little actual driving time, but Taylor took advantage of every opportunity. With busy and ever-changing schedules it was difficult to find the spare time when someone was actually available to take him out. 

By the time they unloaded the groceries and his mother and father started breakfast the entire Hanson clan was up and stirring around noisily. Zac was unusually quiet during breakfast, throwing occasional glances to their Dad and then to his two brothers. Taylor was too busy eating to notice, but Ike was beginning to pick up a strange vibe that he couldn’t quite figure out. It didn’t take long to find out. As soon as breakfast was over their Dad asked if he could speak to Ike and Taylor in his office. 

The two older boys followed their father and Ike noticed that Zac quickly vanished. 

"What’s up Dad?" Ike quizzed.

Walker stood in front of his desk and both Taylor and Ike sat down on the brown leather couch. He pulled his hands together that looked like he was about to begin praying and then pressed his two forefingers against his lower lip. There was no easy way to say it, so he just faced his two sons head-on. 

"Zac wants to quit the group."

Taylor looked at Ike and Ike looked back with equal amazement at the announcement. It took a few seconds for it to sink in before they both exploded. "Is he out of his mind?" "Has he gone crazy?" 

Walker held up his hands in stop the flow of words. "Zac talked to me last night for a long time. He is very serious about this."

"Well, we’ll talk him out of it." Taylor suggested. 

"You talk him out of it," Ike exclaimed. "I’m going to kill him!"

"You aren’t going to kill him," Walker interceded. "And, you are not going to talk him out of it. We’ve always said that if anyone wanted to stop all they had to do was say so. Zac said he wants out."

"Dad, I always throught that would be a collective decision," Ike protested.

"So did I," Walker agreed. "But Zac has been doing this over half his life. Maybe he’s just tired."

"Thirteen is little young to be going through a mid-life crisis," Taylor exclaimed wryly. 

Walker chuckled at his sons words. "I know that. But I also know Zac is serious. He says he wants a more normal lifestyle and he has a right to that." 

"Dad, even if Zac quits it doesn’t mean Tay and I are quitting." Ike said softly. His brother looked up sharply like the idea of having to stop had never occurred to him. 

"Exactly, Dad." Taylor agreed. "I’m not quitting!"

"I’m not suggesting that you do." Walker said. "Look guys, I’ve asked Zac to take the next several weeks to think very carefully about this. We have three weeks before we start on the next schedule. He has until then to make a final decision. We have a New Year’s gig and he’s agreed to play that. After the New Year if he still feels the same, we’ll make the announcement. Until then I want you guys to support him and realize that this is not an easy thing for him to do. Can I count on you to do that?"

Ike nodded his head and after a hesitation and looking over at this brother Taylor nodded his. 

Walker left the office and when the door shut behind him Taylor jumped up and punched the back of the chair. "I can’t believe he’s quitting!"

"Me either." Ike said softly.

"You’re taking this awfully easily," Taylor said suspiciously looking at older brothers’ look of nonchalance. "You don’t think he’ll actually quit, do you?"

Ike smiled. "No. I don’t. Tay, this is Zac we’re talking about. The Ham of family, Mr. Outgoing and Uninhibited. Do you think that he’s going to be able to handle the idea of us going on with our careers and leaving him behind?"

"That doesn’t sound much like Zac does it?" Taylor questioned. "So, All Wise and Knowing One, how do we handle it?"

Ike grinned again. "We give Zac exactly what he wants. He doesn’t want to be part of the group, then he’s not going to be part of it. We’ll continue to work together and see how he likes being left out. He wants to be normal, so we let him be normal"

"We have never been exactly Normal," Taylor exclaimed with a shake of his head. 

"I know that, and you know that, but it seems little brother needs to reminded of how boring Normal can be." Ike suggested. "No concerts, no TV shows, no adoring fans, a normal bedtime and normal chores."

Taylor smiled and gave his brother a hi-five. "Ike, I didn’t know you had such an evil streak in you."

"Ha!" Ike laughed. "Also, you, brother, just became our percussionist."

Taylor laughed out loud at that announcement. Zac was going to have a fit if he thought Taylor was going to take over his job at the drums.

"Like I said brother, you have a very evil streak." Taylor claimed in admiration and he was also smiling.

"Tay, wake up. I need to talk to you."

Taylor was awake the moment the first word was spoken. He rolled over and squinted at his younger brother in the darkness of his bedroom.

"Zac, is the house on fire?" he questioned with a growl.

Zac looked confused for a second and then he grinned and shook his head. "No, but I can set fire to your clothes if you want."

Taylor rolled over again and pulled his pillow over his head mumbling "Go away."

Zac pulled the pillow out of Taylor hands and bounced as he jumped into the middle of his brothers bed. "I need to talk to you. Now!" 

Taylor rolled over again grabbed his other pillow and shoved it under his head. "Zac, I’m tired. We unloaded luggage all day. Why now? You could have talked to me any time all day long but you didn’t. In fact, you avoided us."

Zac bunched up the stolen pillow in his arms and hugged it, leaning his head down on the edge of it. "I was afraid you guys were mad at me."

"If we were mad at you believe me you would have heard about it by now." Taylor grumbled as he sat up and gave up all hope of returning to sleep. He knew his younger brother and Zac was nothing if he wasn’t persistent. If he wanted to talk then he wouldn’t give up pestering him until they talked.

"How can you not be mad at me?" Zac questioned.

"What do you want Zac?" Taylor questioned looking straight into his brothers’ eyes. "If you’re asking if I’m okay with you leaving the group. No I’m not. If you were unhappy you should have talked to us about it."

"You guys don’t listen." Zac complained.

"We can’t listen if you don’t speak up!" Taylor exclaimed. "And, don’t give me that crap. Since when haven’t you been capable of being verbal and loud?"

"I tried to talk to you guys," Zac claimed. "It just wouldn’t come out. I didn’t want you to blame me for breaking up the band."

"So you’re looking for absolution?" Tay said with exasperation.

Zac blinked and frowned in the face of his brothers’ annoyance. "What does that word mean?" he demanded. "And why is it so cold in here?"

Tay gave a sigh and got out of his warm bed. "Because I left the window open," he said as he shoved the window down. "And absolution means you want to be free of guilt for leaving the band. You want us to tell you it’s okay."

"Well why isn’t it okay?" Zac demanded. "We always said if any one wanted to quit they could."

"And, you can," Taylor said. "But, it’s not okay because of how you did it. Is that why you’ve been screwing up lately?"

"Oh....., you said a bad word!"

Taylor and Zac both turned and simultaneously said, "Go back to bed Mackie!" in perfect accidental harmony.

Their littlest brother ignored them and ran across the room and climbed into Taylor bed utterly happy to join his brothers.

"Oh great, now the rug rat is up," Taylor grumbled.

"I’m not a rug rat!" four year old Mackie protested loudly.

"Shush..." Taylor whispered "If you want to stay in here you have to be quiet!"

Mackie dove under the blankets as a response.

Zac looked over at his brother and brought the subject matter back to his agenda.

"I wasn’t screw..." he hesitated and then switched his words considering that Mackie was under the covers but still listening. "I wasn’t messing up on purpose. I was just mad, I guess."

"At what Zac?" Taylor queried "We haven’t done anything to you."

"I didn’t say you did," Zac exclaimed "I just wanted out!"

"Well you’re out now," Taylor said "You got what you wanted."

"But, I don’t want you to be mad at me," Zac pressed. "And, I want to know how you feel about it?"

"Why do you care?" Taylor demanded.

"Cause it’s important to me," Zac responded. "Come on, Tay, this is the kind of stuff that you like. Touchy, emotional stuff. Tell me how you felt when Dad told you I was quitting."

"Ike’s the touchy, sensitive one. I’m the quiet, shy one, remember?" Taylor quipped responding with the magazine descriptions of their personalities, which were not always correct.

"I’m serious," Zac insisted. "How did you feel?"

"Betrayed." Taylor said softly and then instantly wanted to retract the word as a look of hurt crossed his brother face. It was only for a second, but Taylor caught it before Zac tightened his facial expression. Even if he didn’t understand what was going on in his little brothers head right now, Taylor didn’t want to hurt his feelings. 

"I didn’t mean that," Taylor said trying to soften his explanation. "We were just surprised and maybe a little hurt. I mean, Zac, you’re with us 24/7 and you didn’t talk to us about it. You just hit us out of the blue with it. If we’re upset, it’s because you didn’t trust us enough to discuss it with us. I mean the band will go on, just without you."

"What do you mean the band will go on?" Zac demanded. "Hanson is three guys."

"And, now Hanson is two. Your choice not ours." Taylor said reminding Zac of his own impasse. "Ike and I are not ready to give up Hanson yet. We’ll just have to go on by ourselves."

"But Tay, don’t you ever get tired of it?" Zac exclaimed obviously surprised at his brothers’ decision. "Don’t you just want to stay home sometimes?"

Taylor watched the expression on Zac face and it clearly read disbelief and disappointment. He had fully expected that his leaving Hanson would mean an end to the band. "Sure, but Zac this ride won’t last forever. Bands go in and out very quickly. I’m going to ride it for as long as it lasts. If it ends tomorrow, I’ll just keep on writing and composing, if it lasts a lifetime, all the better, I’ll be there for every second of it. Music and being creative is in our blood. To me it’s a life style. If you give it up, then you’ll just have to sit back and watch Ike and I go forward with it. One of the original Beach Boys did that, he was only fourteen and he quit. He watched his brothers become legends."

"Are you guys going to talk all night?"

Zac and Taylor looked up to a sleepy and grumpy Ike standing in the doorway connecting his room with Taylor’s. "It’s two in the morning. If you guys don’t shut up and go to sleep I’m going to brain both of you."

"We were just talking," Zac grumbled but he got off his brother’s bed and headed back to his own room.

"Hey, don’t forget the rug rat!" Taylor exclaimed pointing to a sleeping Mackie. 

"You got him, you keep him!" Zac exclaimed and grinned as he pushed his bedroom door shut behind him.

"Did ya, hear?" Taylor asked knowing fully well that Ike was probably eavesdropping.

"Most of it," Ike admitted. "Don’t make it so easy on him. If we want him back we’re going to have to make him realize what he’ll be missing."

"And at the same time pretend we don’t want him back," Taylor said.

"Exactly, now will you shut up and go to bed," Ike ordered.

Taylor grabbed his other pillow off the floor where Zac had dropped it and punched it up under his head and shut his eyes as Ike retreated back into his own room. But sleep was now elusive and he could hear Mackie snoring lightly beside him. He slipped out of bed and made for the door that connected to the hallway. He had just stepped into the hallway when he heard his fathers’ gruff and tired voice from across the hall. 

"Don’t you even think about it. Get back in bed!"

Taylor grimaced and shut his door quickly and returned to his bed for a couple more hours of sleep. He could finish the song he was working on in the early morning before school lessons began.