Guys, Where's Wesley? (Emblem3 Fan-Fic) COMPLETE!

CHAPTER 3: Big Plans

"Can we get a back booth, please?" Drew asked as they pulled up to the third IHOP they had drove to. The other two were extremely crowded and they had seen atleast 10 Emblem3 shirts before they got out of the car. This one was more remote and casual. This area was also much elderly, they felt safer.

"If that's what everyone wants," Laraine Clare, the Stromberg mom, chirped back to him as she grabbed the door, unallowing the boys to take it off of her. It was a mom thing to make sure all the kids went in first, despite their ages.

They put their reservation in and were immidiately taken to their desired seat. They looked over the menus quietly, both tired and concentrating on what they really wanted. Their waiter, the cute blond named Stacey returned shortly for drinks.

"Ready for drinks," She asked, perky, before whispering "Emblem 3!" and winking. The boys laughed in reply. "I got your privacy covered. These grandparents will be just as bad as your fans!"

"Aha, thanks sweetheart," Drew said with a charming smile.

"Coffee, two sugars, two creams," Laraine ordered first. "We're also ready for food, if that's okay."

"Yeah, sure," Stacey replied quickly.

"Okay, I would like just a simple plate, two pancakes, no syrup or anything, and one sunny side up egg please?" Laraine said, reading off the menu.

"An orange juice and stack of chocolate chip pancakes, whipped cream, bananas, and syrup please," Wes was next. "And if you have it, a side bowl of grapes?"

"We sure do," she said, writing it down.

"Okay, so do you have like wheat pancakes?" Drew started.

"Yup, yup."

"Okay, so two of them with sliced strawberries, bananas, and blue berries along with a glass of milk."

"Man, bro, you're too healthy!" Wes teased Drew.

"Whatever, fatty!" Drew laughed back along with the rest of the table.

"Okay so one coffee..."

"No, Keaton," Mom interupted him real quick. "It's not good and you're not old enough!"

"Mom, I'm 16!" Keaton smiled, blush forming on his cheeks.

"Next time, sweetie, just skip it this time for me? You're my baby! You can't be drinking coffee yet," Mom said.

Keaton rolled his eyes dramatically. "Fine, fine, fine, you don't need to get all sentimental over it. How about a glass of milk too, two regualr pancakes with syrup and butter, and scrambled eggs." His mother smiled brightly at him.

"Okay, guys, be out shortly."

While they waited for their food, Wes and Drew colored in two kids menus they had asked for with the three crayons they came with. They often complained about not having the right colors, like yellow for the sun or gray for the street pole. They began to play fight, drawing on each others papers, until mom told them to cut it out. Keaton talked to his mom and checked Twitter, replying and tweeting a bunch of fans. He, like the other two, found it really cool that they could make someone's entire day by clicking a virtual button. Their food came out and they began to dig in.

"So, mom, what are these commercials for?" Wes asked, setting up a big bite with a bit of everything on it.

"Two motivational ones, Go Play Day,I believe, for Nick and a suicide prevention that should be airing on several channels," she said, reaching for her phone to double check. "Yeah, they're gonna have you guys doing all sort of activities while giving an inspiring message for each."

"Oh, that's cool," Drew commented, tossing one of Wesley's grapes in the air and catching it in his mouth. He loved that sort of inspirational stuff, as many fans knew from over Twitter. He was the one who came up with Team Inspire.

The group finished eating just in time to make it to the commercials. They blasted music in the car but tried not to sing to loud or hard that could damage their voices. They sang so much, being a new band and all, their coach suggested they talk less in their down time and try not to sing for their first year. Both commercials were set up by the same director so they wouldn't have to drive anywhere else. Plus, their shooting location was right next to a beach so maybe if they ended early enough they could stay for a little.

"Okay, we're gonna do you're Go Play one first while the sun is up. Remember, this one could possibly take all day. I once did a 30 second commercial with WWE star Randy Orton. All he did was sit on a table for 5-10 seconds and he still had to be here almost 8 whole hours! So try not to get annoyed. We need to get alot of different shots of the same segment and as this full commercial could possibly be 45 seconds, we need to get to work as soon as possible. Each of your different outfits are in the portable fitting rooms right there. We have 3-5 total outfit changes, depending out each comes out we may be able to keep it at 3. So let's go! Right over there and then to make up in the trailer right next door." The skinny director said rapidly. A bit confused, the boys just did as they were told and went to their marked rooms to change.

Wesley slowly woke up again. He could feel that his throat was even more sore now from the crying and his eyes stung. Thankfully though, his stomach felt better and less nauseas. His headache had lessened. His arms though were much more cramped then before.

He tried to get himself to stand up. He got one leg up and almost had the other before collapsing right on his left knee. He hissed from the slight twisted pain but dared not to make a louder sound. He waited a few minutes, just in case someone upstairs had heard him fall. He held his breath and starred at the stairs, waiting for his bad luck to keep going and for a criminal to come on down. No one came and Wes let out a sigh of relief. He tried again, successfully standing up this time. He heard his legs and back crack several times and actually managed to smile, it was the best feeling he felt since this while ordeal started.

After the small feeling of dizziness from the new elevation left, Wes decided to just turn around the pole, examining the room even more for anything he may have missed the first day. He started becoming discouraged when he saw nothing different that he hadn't noticed. That is until he saw a slight dot of faded light from one far corner on the empty half. Squinting his eyes, he could just make out several old boards over a window. Next to that, he thought he saw the outline of a door. He starred intently, trying to be positive about what he saw but he just couldn't see it correctly. He shook his head and grunted, annoyed.

He tried to pull at the restraints again, now that he was standing he had more power. He stepped out as far as he could and tried to pull his arms in. His wrists were in intense pain and burning. He could feel the raw flesh on his wrists begining to drip blood again. He twisted and turned, squirming close and far from the pole, but the ropes wouldn't budge. Out of breath, he began to examine the nails that were holding the pole down. It was just what he thought, there was no way he would be able to get them out. He sat back down, defeated.

"Well, atleast I can be a little bit more comfortable while I die," Wes laughed cold and disheartened, moving his legs and body around to sit the best way he could and leaning his head back against the pole.