The Pop Stars on the Line

I didn't believe it until I saw the pictures.

"You're lying," I accused my new roommate. "There is no way that happened."

"Dude, I swear," he insisted.

"It couldn't have," I replied.

"I was there," another one of them interjected.

"I took pictures!" the roommate exclaimed.

"Okay," I humored him, still thinking it was a joke. "Let me see them."

He whipped out his iPhone, and there, in incontrovertible digital form, was the evidence.

I stared at the screen, stunned.

"How..." I began. "How is that possible?"

"I have no idea," Artistic Roommate said. "But it happened."

The previous night, he and some friends had been up late on a social networking website through which random strangers with webcams are linked to chat. Sometime around 3:00a.m., he and the two people with him found themselves staring at three dark-haired, good-looking young men.

"Hey, what's up?" Artistic Roommate called.

"Nothing," the young men answered. "You?"

"Nothing much," Artistic Roommate responded.

"Hey," said Mexican Gangster, a former roommate who hangs out here a lot. "You guys look just like..."

They laughed.

"Well..." one replied. "We are."

"No way!" chorused the group in my living room.

More laughing from the three young men.

"So tell me," Mexican Gangster prodded. "Which one of you is hooking up with Miley Cyrus?"

"None of us, man," deflected one of the boys with a smile. "She just tours with us."

"You guys are pretty cool," Sparky, another friend, informed them.

"Thanks," one of them returned.

Mexican Gangster couldn't resist getting in another joke.

"How does it feel to be controlled by Disney?" he posed.

Artistic Roommate and Sparky cracked up with laughter as the screen went black. The Jonas Brothers had disconnected.