Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I've enjoyed hearing from all of you.
Let's get back to Season 3 now, shall we?
Justin stared at Lance as Britney, oblivious, walked into the living room, sitting on the arm of the couch where Josh and I were.
"I just wanted to come see how you guys are doing today," she babbled. "Justin said we should leave you alone, but then I heard Joey laughing through the wall, so I figured it was safe to come over. How are you guys?"
Her eyes darted toward the television, and then ticked over the newspapers scattered across the living room. She glanced at the upended table with one raised eyebrow, and I wondered how she could see all that and not notice the drama going on over on the other side of the room. All of the rest of us were riveted on it, barely noticing her at all.
"Good morning, Lance," Justin said quietly, looking at the floor.
"Justin," Lance said flatly, turning away from him and walking to the kitchen for more coffee.
I wasn't sure if I should cheer for Lance or not. It probably took a lot of strength for him to even see Justin, much less cut him so dismissively, but at the same time, I wished none of this had happened, and that they could still be the friends Lance had thought they were. Then again, Justin had made that bed, not me. The consequences of his actions, all of his actions, were his to deal with.
Even as I thought that I was struck again by the change in Justin. I had first noticed it when I went to talk to him before I flew out to meet Josh's family, but now it was even more pronounced. I hadn't really seen it last night, because he was in full public relations mode, like all the guys had been, but now, inside the apartments, that facade was down, and you could see how much this really was affecting him. When I first met Justin, he had this aura, a kind of golden glow of self-confidence and self-assurance that surrounded him like a cloud. Along with his energy, it was the first thing you noticed about him, and it was one of the things that had made him so attractive to me, and, apparently, to almost everyone. Now it was gone. It wasn't that we could see past it, because we all had. It was that he wasn't bothering to project it anymore. We could see the real Justin, the Justin buried under everything else, and there was nothing there. He didn't know how to act, so he acted like nothing at all.
I wondered how Britney managed not to see it, and remembered the times Justin had told me that their relationship wasn't quite what we all thought it was. Maybe if you wanted to see things a certain way, you did, regardless of what was really there. I also wondered how Justin felt right then. Here were the guys who were supposed to be his best friends in the world, and the four of them were together and hadn't given him a second thought. Now that he was here with them, they were treating him as if he didn't exist, and he was accepting it, just standing by the door. He was an outsider, suddenly, and I wondered if it hurt.
"We're doing ok," Josh said, finally looking at Brit. She seemed not to notice the long pause.
"I'm so glad," she said, smiling at us both. "We saw all the stuff on the news, and we were worried, right Justin?"
"Yeah," Justin answered, stepping toward us. He looked hopefully at Josh, but Josh looked away.
"We're good," Josh said, standing. "But I have to go get dressed, to meet with management about this. Thanks for coming over, though. I really appreciate it."
"Me, too," I said, realizing I hadn't spoken at all. I really needed to devote less time to watching everyone else.
"Well, I just wanted to check on you before I left, too," Brit said, smiling. "I have to go do an interview while I'm in town, and then I fly back out tomorrow."
"That was quick," I said, watching Josh walk toward the bedroom. He passed Justin without even looking at him. "You just got here the other day."
"I know," she said, shaking her head. "This really sucks sometimes."
Yes, being fabulously wealthy and world famous must be extremely difficult.
"I'm sorry," I said, standing as well. "I'm gonna go check on the love of my life, ok? If I don't see you before you leave, have fun, and we'll talk soon."
"Thanks," she said, hugging me. "Call me if you guys need anything, or just call Juju. He'll be right next door."
"Thanks," I said. "I'll keep that in mind."
Josh was already changed when I walked into the bedroom. I closed the door as he turned toward me, eyebrows raised.
"Josh, I have to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me, ok?" I began, sitting on the bed.
"I'm always honest with you," he said, sitting next to me. I took his hand.
"I know, but sometimes you sugarcoat things, and I don't want you to do that right now, ok?" I asked. He looked indignant for a second, but my tone of voice must have convinced him not to argue about whether he really did try to paint it fine every once in a while. "Josh, this meeting with your management, how much trouble is this going to be for you?"
He thought about it for a minute.
"Well, they're not happy, but there really isn't all that much they can do," he answered. "I mean, in the end, I'm under contract, but we have a lot of say, and they can't break it anymore than we can. Besides, it's my life."
"I know," I said. "But is this going to damage your career? Are you going to lose something important to you because of me?"
Josh sighed, and pulled me against him.
"Jack, are you thinking about Peyton again?" he asked quietly. I nodded. "If what you're really asking is am I going to resent you someday, and blame things on you, the answer is no, never."
He tilted my head up, so that I was staring into his eyes.
"I mean that, Jack," he said. "You told me that you didn't care if I never came out, if I never told anyone about us, until I was ready, and I know you meant it. This was my decision, Jack, but this is also who I am. I'm never going to blame you for something that would have happened someday anyway, and nothing I lose because of this compares to what I gain by being with you."
"I'm sorry," I said, standing. "I shouldn't have asked. I should have known you better."
Josh came up behind me, folding his arms around me, and rested his head on my shoulder.
"Don't be sorry," he whispered. "I'm never going to hurt you that way, Jack, never."
"I know," I said. "I'm sorry."
"Shhhh," he said, kissing the back of my neck. "Walk me down to my car?"
"Sure," I said.
When we walked back out into the main room, Justin and Britney were gone. Chris, Joey, and Lance were hunched together over the table, tools and hardware spread out around them, arguing about the best way to reattach the table legs.
"If we had a little piece of wood that could go right there," Chris said, pointing.
"These screws aren't long enough for that," Lance argued.
"Why don't we just go buy a new table?" Joey asked.
"I like Joey's idea," I said, as Josh snickered quietly. It's not every group of friends that will help rebuild the furniture you and your boyfriend wrecked during wild sex. Maybe I'd call them to help mop up next time Josh and I ripped down the shower curtain. "I'm gonna walk Josh down to his car. I'll be right back."
"JC, call us if you need us," Chris said.
"Yeah, don't take no shit from them," Joey said.
"Thanks, guys," Josh said, smiling. "I'll be fine."
When we got down to the parking lot, Britney's car and driver were pulling away. Justin smiled hopefully at us, but Josh walked past him as if he wasn't there, and I followed as Justin walked away back into the courtyard. I gave Josh a quick hug and kiss by the car.
"I love you," I said, hoping he would be ok.
"I know," he said, kissing me again. "I love you, too."
I watched him drive away, and then I walked back through the archway. Justin was sitting on one of the lounge chairs, staring into the pool. He didn't look up as I walked by, and I wondered if I should say something, but I couldn't think of what.
"Jack?" he asked quietly from behind me. "I'm sorry we came over this morning. It was Britney's idea, and I tried to talk her out of it."
I turned around, but he was still staring into the pool.
"I, um, I appreciate that you guys were worried about us," I said slowly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said, still not looking at me. "I still care about you guys. I know you probably don't really believe that, but I do. And I know you and Josh don't really want to be around me, so I'm sorry if us coming over upset you guys."
I looked at my hands, feeling almost chastised. It was hard to be mad at someone who just seemed so defeated.
"Justin, I can't really speak for Josh, because how he feels about you is between you and him," I began. "I don't know how I feel about you, ok? I think you probably actually are sorry about the things you've done, and the way you've treated all of us, but I can't just give you a big hug and welcome you back, either. I don't trust you."
He nodded, facing the pool.
"I know," he said. "And I deserve it. I just wish I knew how to rebuild that. I miss being your friend."
"I don't know, Justin," I said. "It's going to take some time for me to feel comfortable around you again. I can't just decide to trust you."
"I understand," he said. "Thanks for being honest with me."
I wasn't sure what else to say, so I walked away. Upstairs, I found the guys still kneeling around the table still arguing about the best way to fix it.
"Maybe we should give up," I suggested.
"Hell no," Joey said, grinning. "Chris and I are going to the hardware store."
"You don't even know where the hardware store is," Chris said, smacking him on the arm.
"Then we're gonna find one," Joey said, standing. "Come on, Twitchy."
"Shut up, Joey Fat-One," Chris said, following him to the door.
"Um, thanks," I said, watching them go. Joey waved dismissively as the two of them continued insulting each other. Lance and I snickered at them.
"Let me help you clean up these papers," Lance said, walking over to the coffee table.
While Lance picked up the papers, I began gathering napkins, muffin papers, and coffee cups. I loaded up the dishwasher as Lance methodically reassembled and folded each newspaper, stacking them neatly on the coffee table.
"So, Lance, did your appointment go ok this morning?" I asked.
"Yeah, yeah it was good," he said, shrugging.
"I don't mean to pry," I said. "I just noticed that you're looking a lot better."
"Thanks," he said, smiling. "I feel better, kind of."
"Kind of?" I asked. That wasn't a very comforting statement.
"Well, you know," he said, shrugging again. "I'm going back this afternoon, for group."
"That's good," I said, unsure of what else to say.
Lance smiled at me, as if to reassure me.
"I wanted to thank you again for letting me stay the other night," he said. "I don't think I'm going to need it again, but I appreciated it a lot."
"Lance, it wasn't a problem," I said, and it really wasn't, since he hadn't busted into the bedroom and tried to watch or join in. Josh and I were fine with people staying over as long as they stayed in the other areas of the apartment. "If you need us, just call. You know that."
"I know," he said, stepping toward the door. "I'm going to go get ready, ok?"
I wondered what could be involved in getting ready to go to group therapy, but decided not to ask. Maybe he wanted to change his clothes, or something.
"Hey, Lance, I don't know how long Josh is going to be, but do you want to maybe have dinner with us tonight?" I asked, concerned that he might be lonely.
"Um, actually, I have plans," he said, smiling shyly.
"Plans?" I asked, intrigued. Was he blushing? "Who do you have plans with?"
"I'm going to dinner with a friend," he said, turning pinkish and staring down at the floor.
"What kind of friend?" I asked teasingly.
"Just a friend," Lance said quickly. "I'm just going to dinner with a friend. That's all."
"Anyone I know?" I asked, curious.
"Um, sort of," Lance answered. "It's Howie, from the Backstreet Boys."
"Wait a minute," I said, holding up my hands. I didn't know a lot about those guys, but everything I'd seen online led me to believe that there was some sort of rivalry between the two groups. "Aren't they the enemy, or something? You're not planning a defection, are you?"
"No, no, I'm not defecting," Lance said, laughing. "And we're not like, hostile, or anything. Besides, it's not like I'm bringing him to the studio to hear what we're working on. We're just going to dinner."
I realized that this actually was making Lance uncomfortable, so I decided not to push it. Maybe it was just an innocent dinner, although that didn't explain why Lance was nervous and blushing. Did Lance have a crush on Howie? Would Howie even be interested in Lance? I suddenly felt very protective of Lance, but didn't want to intrude into his life, either, if he didn't want me to. I decided to ask Josh about it later.
After Lance left, I kind of puttered around the apartment for a while. The dishwasher wasn't full enough to run, so I pulled all of the dishes out and washed them. Josh and I hadn't really generated much laundry, either, so I couldn't do that, and the apartment was fairly clean from my frequent boredom related cleaning binges through it. I couldn't do anything with the table, and really didn't want to. If Joey and Chris wanted to play with it, I was more than happy to let them. I didn't feel like watching the television any longer, afraid that I'd see myself with Josh's tongue in my mouth on MTV again. Finally I decided to call my apartment and check my messages, thinking that maybe I'd call Carla, too.
There were a few hang up calls, and a call from someone who identified themselves as a reporter for our local paper, which I deleted. The last message was a complete surprise.
"Jackson, this is your mother. I would appreciate it if you would contact me, please."
I wondered what I had done to receive a summons to call. I'd explained to Josh that I didn't really have a lot of contact with my family. They tended to be a little standoffish even before I told them I was gay, and they were almost obsessively biased toward my brother. We had this relationship worked out where I more or less never came home, or went to visit them, and we exchanged cards and gifts through the mail at holidays. It worked really well for all of us, however abnormal it might be for everyone else. I dialed my parents' number, hoping they hadn't moved and forgotten to tell me, which had happened once before. My mother answered.
"Hello?" she said icily.
"Hello, mother, it's Jack," I said, trying to sound friendly.
"Ahhh, Jackson, finally you call," she said, her frosty tone thawing a little, but not by much. "I left that message hours ago, but I imagine you must be very, very busy."
"Things are a little hectic here, yes," I said. "I just checked my messages now. Is everything ok?"
"Actually, no," she said, sighing. "Your father and I are a little upset that you didn't warn us about this person that you're involved with. We saw you on the television last night, on the news. It would have been rather polite of you to let us know about that before it happened."
"Josh and I aren't 'involved', we're dating," I corrected.
"Whatever word you choose to use for the way you choose to live your life," she sighed again. My mother, the martyr. "I just wish you had told us. I mean, what must people think? I was at lunch today at the club, and everyone was asking about you and this musician of yours. What kind of mother does that make me look like, when I don't even know who it is you're carrying on with?"
There were so many things wrong with what she'd just said that I didn't know where to start educating her.
"Normally you don't like to hear about that part of my life," I said, resisting the urge to add, "Or any other part."
"Regardless, if you're going to throw it all over the television, the least you could have done is call," she said. "I'm very disappointed in you, Jackson. Your brother is always so much more considerate of our feelings."
"You know, is that really all you have to say?" I asked. "I kiss the man I love on national television, and the best you can come up with is that you're disappointed that I didn't tell you I was going to? Aren't you even happy for me?"
"Jackson, you know that I'll never be completely happy as long as you insist living this lifestyle of yours," she said. "And now you just sound upset. I don't know if I want to speak to you in this state."
"What state?" I asked. "California?"
"You know what state," she said quickly. "I'm not going to argue about this with you. I have a social committee meeting. I have to go."
"Been great talking to you," I said sarcastically.
"Goodbye, Jackson," she said, hanging up before I could answer her.
I wanted to throw the phone across the room, but it rang again in my hand.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Hi, babe," Josh said. He didn't sound happy. "Can you come down to the studio?"
"Um, sure," I said, grabbing my keys. "I'll catch a ride with Lance. What's up?"
"I don't know," he answered crossly. "They won't tell me. They just want to speak to you."
"OK, Josh, I'll be right there," I said, locking up and walking down the steps. The courtyard was empty.
"OK, good," he said. "I'll meet you in the lobby. You sound funny. Are you ok?"
"I had a talk with my mother," I said. "I don't want to get into it right now. I need to cool off a little."
"I'm sorry," he said.
Lance drove me down to the studio. I was lucky to catch him, as he was just about to leave for group. He didn't really have any idea of what the studio would want me for, either, but he wished me luck, and I told him to have fun with Howie. As he drove off, I reminded myself again to ask Josh about that. Speaking of Josh, he was waiting for me in the lobby, and gave me a quick hug.
"We're down the hall in the conference room," he said, leading me by the hand.
"They still haven't told you what they want?" I asked, looking around.
"No, and it's pissing me off," he said, shaking his head.
"Has it been bad?" I asked, not sure of what kind of trouble he could get in.
"Not really," he answered. "Mostly they just had a lot of questions, and I've been working with our publicists on putting together an official statement."
"About us?" I asked, not sure of how I felt about that.
"Just something generic they can give to the press," Josh said quickly. "Yes, you and I are dating, and the band fully supports my decision to make it public, but that it is my private life, and really we're still really just about our music. It sounds a lot better than that, but I want you to look at it, too."
"OK," I said.
When we reached the conference room, Josh introduced me to Stan, part of the management team, and Marshall, part of the legal team.
"You don't have to stay for this, JC," Stan said.
"I'm not leaving," Josh said bluntly.
"Very well, then," Stan said, smiling as if Josh's tone hadn't been hard enough to bend nails. "Marshall?"
"Mr. Springer," Marshall began, clearing his throat. "I'd like to begin by saying that I'm sure you have only the best of intentions toward our client, but I also must point out that we have heavily invested in Mr. Chasez and the rest of the group, and as a company we feel the need to protect our investment in whatever ways we deem necessary."
"And you see me as a threat?" I asked carefully. Josh squeezed my hand, and glancing over at him I saw that his eyes were narrowed at Marshall. That wasn't a good sign.
"Of course not," Marshall said, smiling. No one was laughing. "At present. But who's to say what could happen in the future? We make no judgments about the way any of the group chooses to live their lives, but they do have a reputation and an image that must be protected."
"So what is it that you want from me?" I asked. Was he implying that I was planning to break up with Josh? Marshall began to slide a stack of papers toward me.
"Our legal department has drawn up some forms that I'd like for you to sign and agree to," Marshall began quickly. "Confidentiality agreements, that sort of thing, and an agreement regarding Mr. Chasez's assets in the event that the two of you should part less than amicably."
"Like a prenuptial agreement?" I asked. "We can't even get married. It's not like he's going to lose half his money in a divorce."
"We're not worried about that, per say, but there have been some rather large financial judgments in civil suits involving domestic partners," Marshall said, still smiling. "We're just trying to safeguard JC. I'm sure you understand."
"This is bullshit," Josh said, standing. The hand that wasn't holding mine was balled into a fist. "Don't touch those, Jack."
"JC, please, we're only trying to do what's best for you and for the band," Stan began.
"The fuck you are!" Josh said harshly. "Confidentiality agreements? Did you make Britney sign one? And a financial agreement? This is bullshit, Stan, and you know it. I wouldn't have called Jack if I'd know you were going to ambush him."
"Josh," I began.
"You should have asked me!" Josh yelled at them, pounding the table with his fist. "This is my life, damn it! I love Jack. Do you understand that? I love him, and I think I know him well enough to know what he'd do even if we did break up, which we won't. He's not signing those."
"I think you need to calm down and think rationally about this," Marshall began. Was he sharing a dialogue coach with my mother?
"Fuck you," Josh answered eloquently.
"Josh!" I said sharply. This had gone on long enough. "Sit down, please. I know you're just trying to stick up for me, but it's not necessary."
"What?" Josh asked, surprised. I saw Marshall and Stan's eyebrows rise, too.
"I said it's not necessary," I repeated. I held Josh's hand, looking into his eyes. His face was flushed, and he was breathing hard. "Josh, I love you. You know that. And you know that it's never been about what you do, or how much money you have. You know that, Josh. If they want me to sign this, fine, I'll sign it. It doesn't matter to me."
"But, Jack, they think you're a fucking gold digger or something," Josh said. "You don't have to do this."
"Josh, it's not their fault they're ignorant," I said, smiling at being able to get at least one dig in. "These papers don't mean anything. Just let it go."
He sighed, nodding, as I reached for them.
"I want a set, too," Josh said. "I want to sign papers about Jack."
Marshall and Stan snickered. I wanted to deck them.
"JC, with all due respect," Stan began.
"Stop," Josh said. "Stop right there. When you say that, you aren't treating Jack with all due respect, are you? Regardless of how you see him, Jack and I are equals in this relationship. One of us isn't more important than the other. Anything you make him sign, I sign, too."
"Very well," Marshall said. "We'll have those drawn up immediately."
"Fine," Josh said as I pushed the signed forms back across the table. "I'll sign them in the morning. We're leaving now."
"No hard feelings?" Stan asked, holding out his hand and smiling.
"Save it," Josh said, taking my hand and leading me out of the room.
Next chapter, we'll see what Lance is doing. :)