Hello everyone! For those of you in the U.S., I hope you had a wonderful 4th of July. For everyone else...well, I hope you are doing wonderfully!
This chapter is a continuation of NSYNC's stay in New York. Many of you have written about these chapters, and I appreciate it greatly. It sometimes amazes me that I can capture a feeling or circumstance, and describe it in a way that makes you all feel a part of the story. I am a romantic, but not experiencing much of that in my life right now. Perhaps I am like the musician that can play for the dancers, yet not dance, or a poet who details battles yet does not fight. Any way you look at it, I'm flattered by your support.
Disclaimer: I have no knowledge of NSYNC, anyone affiliated with them, or any other celebrities that may appear here. This is a work of fiction, so any mention of sexual orientations/habits or personalities are made up by me! If you are offended by stories about relationships between men, or are too young to legally read such things, please leave.
A Light in the Tunnel
Chapter 25
"Joey, we've been so good while we've been here, but it's about to drive me crazy! If I don't get to a club or something, I'm not going to be held responsible for my actions!"
Joe rolled his eyes, then swatted Justin with the morning's edition of the NY Times. "Don't be so dramatic, Curly. We've done other things this time around." He grimaced as he thought back to the night before. "Like the ballet."
"I know, but watching other people dance isn't the same! I just want to let loose for one night. Is that so much to ask?"
"I'll ask a couple of people, and find out where the hottest new nightspot is. One that Burke can legally get into. Will that work?"
Justin's face broke into a wide, beaming grin. "Definitely! And it'll be the perfect opportunity for him to wear one of the outfits I picked out!"
"And the perfect time for him and Josh to show off for each other!" Joey winked.
"Are we still on for getting some stuff together for them?"
"Yeah. Lance messed with the schedule a little, so the two of us have some free time to do the special shopping. I'm still not sure it's a good idea to do this ourselves."
"We have to! Anyone we could send don't know those guys as well and may pick up the wrong things. Besides, I want to oversee this part of the plan so no one but us is to blame if something goes wrong."
"Good point. OK, I'll look into a place to go tonight, and tomorrow afternoon we'll head to a classier porn shop."
Burke was sitting at the desk in his room, trying to concentrate on the paper his teacher had assigned him. Five pages describing the ethical boundaries of journalism and how they related to people's fascination with celebrity. At first the assignment seemed like a no brainer. He had five celebrities at his disposal, all willing to lend their insights and experiences. Then he had been told that his family was not to be consulted. That made things more difficult. Burke could write about the things he had gone through, but didn't want to relive the experiences which had brought reporters and photographers into his life. He was too embarrassed to write about the pictures taken when he had first moved to Florida, the ones of he and the guys shopping and his reactions to them. And the stories stemming from being taken by his mother brought the woman's face to his mind, something that didn't happen very often anymore. His forehead wrinkled as he thought about what he could do to come up with the best essay. Any idea popped into his head, and he went in search of his tutor. "Amelia, you said I couldn't get help from the guys for my paper, right?" "Right. I want you to do this without relying on your family. I want you to learn about ethics, but not fall back on what you already know. This paper is meant to teach you something." "I got it. Thanks." Burke ran to the suite, hoping he could catch one of the guys before they left for the day's events. Luck was with him, Lance still working on a project for his company. "Lance, can I ask you for a big favor?" Burke laid his head on the man's shoulder, trying to look pitiful. "Don't try to suck up to me, Burke. What can I do for you?" "I have to write this paper about reporters and celebrities, but Amelia doesn't want me to talk to you guys." "That makes sense. We've pretty much told you a lot of our stories, so you won't be learning anything." "Right. So I was wondering if maybe, if it wasn't too much trouble, you could call over to MTV and see if there were a couple of people I could talk to." "Burke-" "I just thought it would be cool. Not only could I talk to famous people, but I could also talk to people whose job is to follow celebrities. I mean, I understand if it's too much trouble, but it was just an idea I had. Don't worry about it. I'll come up with something else." "I think it's a great idea! Are you sure it's alright with your teacher?" "She said I couldn't talk to you guys. She didn't say anything about talking to anyone else!" Lance looked at his young friend skeptically. "You know, you sound like a businessman. That's an end run if I ever heard one. Let me grab my phone real quick and see what I can do." Burke nearly did a happy dance while Lance dialed one of his contacts at the studios. "Hi, this is Lance Bass. I was wondering if someone would be able to talk with Chris' son, Burke. He has a school paper to write and wanted to talk to a couple of journalists...Great! If it's possible, I'm sure he'd like to get the other side of the story from a performer or two...Oh. Maybe we'll just play that one by ear...Thanks a lot. I really appreciate this. When should I send him over?...Alright. Thanks again. B-bye!" Burke waited anxiously for his brother to fill him in. "My person is going to arrange some time with a couple of the VJs. I don't know who, but it'll give you a source to draw from." "What about a celebrity? You didn't sound too thrilled about that part." "I'm not sure he'll have the time today. You know how it is. In, do the show, and back out. And he might not be interested after all the interviews he'll have already done. Maybe you can call Brit or someone." Burke was positive there was something else going on to get such excuses. Lance generally liked everyone, and the look on his face said that this was one of the few he didn't. "Who is it, Lance?" "Eminem. Like I said, he may not be interested, or just too busy." "It never hurts to ask, right?" Burke tried to calm his excitement. "I suppose so. Are you sure you don't want me to find someone else for you? One of the Backstreet guys, maybe?" "I'll try my luck with Eminem. If that doesn't work out, then I'll call Britney and maybe someone else. When are they expecting me?" "In an hour. You should probably get cleaned up and stuff. Remember to dress nice. These people don't want to waste their time on someone who looks like they don't know what they're doing." Burke was out of the room and next door before Lance could draw another breath. "Hey bro, why are you all dressed up?" Burke had on a pair of relatively new jeans, not completely sure if he liked the artificially faded thighs, and a short-sleeved black silk shirt over a black wifebeater. "Hey, Just. I've got to do some research for a paper, so Lance set me up with some time to talk to a couple of people at MTV." "Sweet. Who are you seeing?" "A couple of the VJs, I'm not sure who. And if he's got the time, I'm hoping to get to talk to Eminem." "Just don't take any shit from him. Sometimes he likes to run his mouth. I think he's pissed off just about everyone in the business at one time or another." "Don't worry about me. I'm taking Warren along, and he can deal with trouble." "Alright. Give me a call if you need anything, ok?" "Sure, Justin. I'll see ya later!" "Bye bro." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Burke was really into his role as an interviewer. So that he didn't waste anyone's time, he had thought of the questions he wanted to ask, and had a small tape recorder, borrowed from Lance, to get their responses. He thought it was funny, and a tiny bit frustrating, that the VJs he talked to all tried to ask questions of him. He was getting a good amount of information about how journalists balanced their curiosity with the need to respect the privacy of celebrities. Many times, he was told, they asked off the record questions just because they had to know the truth, even if they had to keep that knowledge secret. Each had their favorite people to interview, and most of the time those people were the ones comfortable with disclosing many details. Burke thanked each person, grateful for the time, if only a few minutes, they had spared to help him. Each, in turn, thanked him for the opportunity, and managed to slide in a hint that they wanted to do the first interview Burke was willing to give out. The assistant, a brunette named Jocelyn, who had been assigned to show Burke from one play to another, shuffled him off to another room. "Eminem has agreed to talk to you for a little bit before he has to leave." Burke nodded. "Be careful," she whispered as she knocked on the dressing room door, "he's in one of his moods today." Burke stepped through the doorway, not surprised to see that the room was set up much like the one the guys had used earlier. Sprawled out on one of the couches, the blond rapper glared at him. "So, you're the kid who wants to talk to me?" "Yes, sir," Burke stuttered, feeling like he was facing his mother and her hostility. "If you'd rather not, I understand. You are busy man." "Whatever. If you have some questions, ask them. I haven't got all day. You're not posing just to get an autograph or something, are you?" "No sir. I just want to ask you a few questions about how you feel about reporters and what they do to get a story." "Bitches, all of them. I just try to do my own fucking thing, but I can't take a breath without one of them snapping my picture. All I want to do is make great fucking music." "Could you share one of your experiences with me? Maybe one good, and one bad?" "It's easier to come up with a bad one than good." As Burke listened patiently to the man's ranting, he realized that he was quickly losing his liking of him. Every other word out of his mouth was a cuss word, and he really seemed to be on the verge of doing something violent all the time. "Is this going to take much longer?" Eminem snarled. "No, sir, but don't let me keep you if you want to go. This isn't as important as the things I'm sure you have to do." "Will you just ask your questions? And stop with the fucking 'sir' shit. It's annoying." "Sorry." Burke wanted to end things right there, but knew he needed to get the rest of his information. "Aren't you going to ask me something about my music. That's what I do after all." "I know, and I'm a fan. But this is for a school paper about journalistic ethics." "That's got to be the biggest bullshit assignment I've ever heard! The problem with school is that they don't teach you anything useful. I learned everything I know on the streets. You're a stupid kid for buying into all that shit." "Maybe, maybe not. But that's what my assignment is. Besides, I like school. I would think that you, as a role model for young people, would encourage kids to get their education." "School never did much for me. And trust me, you're just a puppet for the government. Stupid kid." "Maybe school never did anything for you because you were too stupid to get it?" Burke was tired of getting the brunt of someone's anger without doing anything to earn it. Justin had said not to take any of Eminem's crap, so he wasn't. The rapper sat up, actually looking at Burke. "What did you say, you little shit?" His face looked astonished, as if he couldn't believe a kid would speak to a superstar like that. "I made a guess about why you didn't like school." "You don't know shit about me." "And I'm glad I don't. I used to think you were really cool and had just gotten a bad reputation from the press, but now I know better. From the minute I walked in here, you've treated me like I was something nasty stuck to the bottom of your shoe. No one made you agree to talk to me, and I know you aren't getting paid for this, but the least you could do is be respectful! There are plenty of other people I can talk to, and I don't need to put up with you." Burke grabbed his tape recorder, stood up, and started towards the door. "If anything I've read about you is true, I figured we had a couple of things in common. Now I know better." A hand shot out over his shoulder and kept the door closed. "How do you figure you're important enough to talk to me like that?" "Because I asked for a favor and you agreed. Are you always a bastard to people who interview you, or is this just my lucky day." "Get out of here you little fucker. I'm Eminem, and you're nobody." Instead of hurrying away, Burke spun, his eyes as furious as the rapper's were. "I *am* somebody, and I don't have to hide behind an mask, unlike you. You don't know anything about me, so you can take your poor, abused, angry act somewhere else, because I ain't impressed. So you had it rough as a kid, woohoo! Join the crowd." "Listen here, my mama-" "Yeah, mine too. Ooh," he said sarcastically, "you grew up in the projects or wherever. Poor Marshall. I had it just as bad as you, and I'm not going around making an ass of myself. Grow up!" With the last word, Burke went stomping out of the room, not speaking to anyone as he left the building. Warren was smart enough to stay out of his way, knowing he could take whatever Burke threw his way, but not wanting to find out exactly how much that might be. Burke glowered all the way back to the hotel, muttering under his breath. "Get what you needed, Burke," Lance asked as his little brother came storming down the hall. He didn't get an answer, Burke disappearing into his room, letting the door slam behind him. "What did I do?" the bewildered singer asked Warren. "Nothing. He's been like this since we left MTV. I'm thinking his interview with Eminem didn't go so well." Lance nodded, and went into the suite, figuring he'd let Burke cool down before talking to him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In half yelled statements, the guys learned what had happened that morning. Justin cheered Burke for standing up to Eminem and giving him a dose of his own medicine. They decided to give him space that afternoon, wondering how long this angry spell would last. The telephone in the suite rang and Chris answered it. "Hello?" "This is the front desk. We have a visitor wanting to see Mr. Burke Kirkpatrick." "Did they give you a name?" "Yes, sir. A Mr. M. Mathers." Chris gasped, covered the phone, and turned to his friends. "Slim Shady is downstairs. He wants to see Burke. What should I do?" "Tell them to have security throw him out!" Justin laughed. "You'd better ask Burke. He's already upset, and you don't want him to be pissed off even more." Lance, they agreed, had a point. Josh fetched his boyfriend, and brought him into the room. "Son, Eminem is down in the lobby and is asking to see you. What should I tell the front desk?" "Have someone escort him up. Surely he isn't stupid enough to try for round two on my turf." Chris quickly relayed the instructions, saying one of their guards would be down to get the man. "Shady," Joey greeted coldly when the rapper knocked on the suite's front door. "Fatone," he replied, surprised. "What are you doing here?" "This is my room. Well, the group's suite. You're here to see Burke?" "Uh, yeah. Is he here?" Joey let the door swing open, and stepped out of the way just enough for the smaller man to squeeze through. The rest of NSYNC and Burke sat in the common room, emotionless faces staring at the new arrival. "Kirkpatrick. I get it now," he muttered. "Do you know everyone?" Burke asked. Eminem nodded, murmuring a hello to the others. "Good. What can I do for you?" "Uh, it's sort of private. Can we go somewhere to talk?" "You can tell me what you want to talk about, then I'll decide if we need to go somewhere." Chris gawked at his son, surprised by the hard, indifferent, slightly cruel tone of his voice. The young man who was now speaking was totally different from the teen he loved and called his son. Eminem rocked back and forth, obviously nervous. "It's just that I wanted to--to apologize for how I acted earlier. I asked a couple of people and they gave me a little of your story. I had no right to treat you the way I did." "Apology accepted. Now, what do you want to talk about?" "You said that you thought we had some things in common, and now that I know better, I agree. I was hoping we could give your interview another chance." The timidity and hopefulness in the man's voice broke the steely façade Burke wore. "Sure. Dad, do you mind if I have supper with Marshall tonight?" "Go right ahead. I think we're going out tonight, so don't stay out long." "Alright. See you guys later!" As if night had suddenly become day, Burke was cheerfully leading the stunned celeb from the room. "That was crazy," Justin laughed cautiously after the door had clicked shut. "That's our Burke," Josh laughed. "I'm surprised he was willing to give him a second chance! But I'm proud that he did." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So," Josh ventured as he stood in the bathroom fixing his hair, "how was supper?" Burke came in, and laid a CD on the counter. He looked down, and laughed, seeing the dedication written on the cover. He picked it up and read aloud, "To my best little homie, Here's to making lemonade! Peace, Slim Shady." Josh covered his mouth, but that couldn't stop his laughter. "His best little homie? You charmed the pants off him, didn't you?" "Well," Burke blushed, "we do have some things in common. He's cool once he stops being so mean. Want to know a secret?" "If you tell me, then it won't be a secret, will it?" "Maybe, but I want to tell you anyway. Promise not to tell?" Josh giggled and crossed his heart. "Well, you know that Marshall is famous for bashing just about everyone, right?" The man nodded. "Would you believe that he has your CD in his car?" "No way! I thought he hated the whole boy band thing!" "Yes way. Well, he might happen to hate boy bands, but it's hard to do that when he has a certain *interest* in a member of one!" Josh's hair gel bottle dropped from his hand, goo shooting over the sink. "Oh my god! He likes one of the guys?" Burke grinned smugly. "Yup." "Who?" "Well, it is a secret after all. Maybe I shouldn't say anything." Josh tackled the young man to the floor, pinning him to the carpet. "Oh no, little boy! You're going to tell me!" "What are you gonna give me?" Josh leaned down and kissed Burke, wasting no time in sliding his tongue against his boyfriend's. "Mmm," the boy panted as JC pulled him up, "that will work." "Thanks. Now talk!" "Let me see. I think his exact words were, 'I'd love to make it with that gorgeous blond, the one with spiky hair.'" "Lance!" Josh laughed, gripping his stomach. "That's so funny! Oh my god! You have to tell him that!" "No way! I only told you because I don't want to know things you don't. Are we about ready to go?" "Just let me finish my hair. You look great, by the way." Burke looked down at his outfit. Though he had argued with Justin about the leather pants and nearly sheer shirt, he had to admit that they looked good on him. "Thanks. You good fantastic too." That wasn't a shallow compliment. Josh did look good, his slender but muscled body outlined by a skin-tight shirt of shiny black material and blue leather pants. "Are you sure about this place?" Lance questioned as their limo pulled up in front of the building. "Everyone I talked to said this was the hottest club going right now, and Burke can get in without us using our influence. And there is a mixture of gay and straight people here, so Josh and Burke can dance together without anyone saying something." "Joe, we're NSYNC. Someone will say something." "Not if we all take a turn. If something comes out in the paper, we can just say that we were enjoying New York's jumping nightlife with Chris' son. That's the truth, isn't it?" "I like the way Joe thinks," Josh smiled. "You *are* going to dance with me tonight, aren't you?" Burke blushed and buried his face in the man's shoulder. "Well duh! Are you all sure it'll be ok?" "Yeah. Jayce might have to dance with a couple of girls, though. Is that alright?" "Of course. I'm not the jealous type. Besides, if things get out of hand, he knows he'll be sleeping on the couch in your suite!" Though he wasn't much of a partier, Burke was having a wonderful time at the club. He had been a little nervous at first, but had calmed after the initial rush of hysteria at the guys' arrival had passed. True to Joey's words, he had danced with all of his family. At one point during a song with a Latin beat, Justin had started a conga line then shimmied and shuffled along with Burke, moving the boy's hips comically. A little tired, Burke withdrew to the segregated tables that had been set aside for the group. "Need something else to drink?" Lance shouted over the music. Burke nodded, and watched his older brother poor him a glass of water. "Have you seen Josh?" he asked after wetting his throat. "The last time I saw him, he was over by the bar talking to someone." Burke stood up and scanned the dance floor. Despite all the people moving around, he found it relatively easy to find his friends. Justin was in the middle of a small circle of people, showing off for them. Joey and some random girl were grinding against each other, and Chris was sitting at a table across the room, talking with a couple of guys. Josh, he discovered, was standing in a short line in front of a clipboard on the wall. "What is he doing?" Burke yelled, pointing out his boyfriend. "I don't know. Looks like he's signing up for something." They weren't clueless for long. After the current song ended, the DJ's voice came over the speakers. "You know what time it is! Would the contestants for Spectrum's Weekly Hot Body Contest please make their way to the stage?" The crowd erupted as a group of men and women climbed the set of stairs. "How much has he had to drink tonight?" Justin asked as he, Chris, and Joey rejoined their friends. "A couple of beers, I think. Oh, and I saw him do a couple of shots of something. I didn't ask him what it was." Burke became nervous as his family shared a tense look among them. "Why? What's going on?" "The Josh we all know and love is a bit on the tense side, right? Well, when he drinks, he gets a bit--freer." People started cheering as sultry music came on. The group looked to the stage to see one of the male contestants, a hugely muscled red head, strip off his shirt, then just as quickly lose his pants. Without saying a word, they all rushed onto the dance floor, trying to reach their band mate before his turn to be in the spotlight. No one knew whether to be insulted or pleased that members of NSYNC had shoved them, making their way through the crowd. His hips swaying seductively, JC slowly raised his shirt up, baring the rippled muscles of his stomach. The throng went wild as he continued, the smooth skin of his chest, tinted blue by the lights, shimmering with tiny beads of sweat. Just as he was popping the first snap on his pants, Joey dashed up on stage and pulled him away, much to the disdain of the cheering mob. A goofy grin on his face, Josh looked around, then leaned close to Burke. "I was going to show them what belongs to you!" he hiccupped. Burke, his nerves settling, patted his boyfriend's cheek. "I want to keep that all to myself. I'm a lucky guy." "Nuh uh. I'm lucky. Them people," he stammered, gesturing wildly, "as just people. But you're an angel." "Thanks Josh. And, just for the record, no one up there has a hotter body than you." "What do you say we get out of here, guys?" "Lansten! Hi! We don't have to go yet, do we?" "I'm afraid so, buddy. Burke has school in the morning." Josh looked the watch on Lance's wrist, his face becoming somber. "He's right. You have to get up in the morning. Come on, Burke, let's get out of here." Josh leaned heavily on Burke and Joey, the men looking like they were just giving him a chummy half hug when they were actually guiding his woozy steps. "Josh, are you okay?" Burke whispered as they crept into bed. "Just fine." They had poured a pot of coffee into him, hoping to counteract the alcohol. "Sorry about tonight. I know better." "I thought it was sweet. You said you were going to show them what belonged to me." "I was. But you know what I really wanted to do?" Josh got out of bed and turned on the radio, and slid a CD in, a ballad coming forth. He opened the curtains a fraction, letting the moon light filter into the dark room. Standing there, bathed in silver rays, he held his hand out to Burke. The boy walked over, his eyes shyly downcast. Josh raised his head tenderly so that they were looking at each other. "Dance with me?" Burke moved closer, resting his head next to Josh's and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Josh's arm encircled his waist, and they started to rock back and forth, twirling in a slow, tight circle. "I love you, Josh." "I love you too, Burke. I love you too." The CD played quietly, repeating that song over and over. Together, bodies pressed against one another, they danced, no sound but silky notes in the night. A light kiss was exchanged now and again, but both were content in the smooth rocking, the quiet closeness. Without missing a step, they danced for hours, the light streaming through the window brightening from cool to fiery orange. They separated with a kiss as a knock came at the door. "Time to wake up guys!" Lance called through the wood. A moment later he came inside, staring at the men. "You're both up and out of bed already." Josh glanced at the clock then blushed. "We sorta never made it to bed last night." Burke giggled at Lance's confused mien. "Why didn't you make it to bed?" "We kind of stayed up all night--dancing." "You danced all night?" "I guess so. I don't think we realized it." "But it was for six hours! How can you not notice dancing for six hours?" "Because all I cared about was Burke," Josh answered, pulling his smaller boyfriend back against him. "We're up. Go away now, Lance." The responsible singer huffed and walked out. Once in the hall and away from everyone else, he leaned against the wall and sighed, a dreamy smile on his lips. "That's so beautiful." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That's it for now! I hope you all liked! I know I had hinted at things that were to happen in this chapter, but one of them I didn't get around to. Sorry about that, but I guarantee it will happen in the next chapter. Heck, I've already told you, through Joey and Justin plotting, what part of chapter 26 will involve! And no cliffhanger!!!! I'd love to here your thoughts and comments. You can reach me at cameronwriter@hotmail.com Until next time, Always, Cameron