Ike walked nonchalantly down the hall of dressing room doors, trying not to glance around too much for fear of seeming nervous. It didn't really matter though, with Zac whistling the Mission Impossible theme behind him. He sighed and shook his head.

The next note of the song came out like a strangled chirp as Tay landed his open palm on the back of Zac's head. Zac turned around, mouth open, ready to verbally slap Tay back. Taylor stopped him with a firm wag of his finger and said, "Not a word, Zac."

Zac frowned angrily and grumbled to himself.

"Oh wow! Hanson, right?" The guys looked at the man with shaggy, dark brown hair and a witchlike, turned down nose who was addressing them in a slight accent.

Zac nearly knocked Taylor over, grabbing his arm a little too tightly.

"Hey, Bono! U2! Love 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday.'" Taylor said with a bit too much mock enthusiasm. Bono failed to notice his tone, but Zac didn't. He gave him a dirty look. "Our little brother Zac here is your HUGEST fan." He gave Zac a little shove toward the Irish pop icon.

Zac's eyes widened as he stood before the man. He looked like he might take off running, but instead he gave a toothy, nervous grin and said, "Hi..." in a strained voice that broke and squeaked, showing every bit of puberty's effect on it.

"Right, well..." Bono said with a smile. "You guys are not half bad yourselves. I really loved that 'Mmmbop.'"

Ike gave him a nod and a smile, grabbed Zac's arm and said, "Well, we've got to go do our last rehearsal. Catch you later."

Taylor was still giving Bono's back a disgusted look as he walked away.

"Tay. C'mon, man... rehearsal..." Zac called.

"Yeah..." Taylor said, walking away. When he caught up with them, he shook his head. "Jerk. I hate that."

"Not again, Tay..." Ike begged.

"Well, crap... If he was gonna pretend he's a fan, he could at least find out the name of one of our other songs. How patronizing.... The big Irish pop star honors Hanson with the unique compliment 'I really loved that 'Mmmbop.'" Tay imitated Bono's voice well. "What an ass..."

"I think that man is quite possibly Satan." Zac said meekly, still visibly shaken from the encounter.

Tay laughed. Ike suddenly put a hand out in a gesture for them to stop, bringing the other hand up and placing a finger to his lips. The hall was empty now. The boys quietly slipped into the room with "Otown" written across its gold star. It was empty.

They found nothing out of the ordinary at first. On the table sat a fruit basket, a bowl of M & M's... Zac grabbed one and started to pop it into his mouth. Isaac grabbed his hand. "Not yet, Zac! You shouldn't have sugar till later."

"Why?" He asked. "Spoil my dinner?"

"No. We're gonna play a set tonight, in case you forgot, and we don't want you on a sugar rush onstage. Your drumsticks'll go right THROUGH your drums!"

Zac sighed and replaced the candy-coated sweet among its fellow M & M's in the bowl with a sad look on his face.

There were two sofas, just like the ones in their own dressing room. A copy of Otown's set list sat on the table in the center of the room. At the long vanity mirror, there was a table that ran the length of it with five chairs that had a little patch with each member's name on it. Various primping tools lay neatly on the table.

Zac picked up an eyelash curler. He giggled. "Look guys! Otown curls their eyelashes!"

Tay smiled. Ike didn't. "Zac, put that down." He said in a weary voice. "Go stand outside the door and be the lookout."

Zac walked energetically, almost skipping toward the door. It opened before he reached it. Zac froze. Taylor paused from his digging in the contents of the vanity drawer. Ike froze in the midst of his page-turning in the set list.