The usuals: Don't read this if you are morally objected to gay relationships, or are under 18, or this is illegal where you live. Seriously: If the warnings on the website aren't enough, at least listen to me right now and stop if any of these conditions apply. This is a work of fiction: I don't know any of the members of N'sync, and I have no idea who they really are as people, including personality/sexuality, etc.
Okay, this section is a lot better than the previous section. I included a lot more detail about the guys, and hints about who will be involved with who (if you're smart, you'll figure it out), so it won't seem so abstract. Feedback means a lot. You can email me at scottiescot@hotmail.com or icydragon9@hotmail.com.
I hadn't gotten more than five feet from the door when I heard someone shout after me, "Hey, wait!" I whirled around, and saw that it was the skinny dark-haired dude. He walked up to me.
"What happened?" he asked, concern crossing his face.
"Nothing," I spat and turned to leave, but he caught me by the shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I snapped, glaring at him. "Why don't you leave me the hell alone?" I said coolly. He looked taken aback. I was taking out my frustration on him, and I knew it, but seeing his shocked face calmed me down.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," I said, and he looked relieved that I wasn't going to bite his head off.
"Austin, right?" he said, holding out his hand.
"Yeah," I said, grabbing his hand. "And you are...?"
He looked at me a little surprised, and I knew why. I mean, if I was at their concert, I should know their names, right?
"Josh," he said. "Girl trouble?"
I had to laugh. Seeing me at least not angry anymore, he smiled too.
"You could say that, " I answered, still laughing.
"Women. Can't live with them, and can't kill 'em," he joked.
I laughed. "I don't know what her problem is. Suddenly she's all mad at me," I said.
"You just need to give her time to cool off." Josh said. "Believe me, I know that when girls are angry, they just want to be left alone."
"I guess, but I want to know what I did wrong," I said.
"What did you do?" he said.
"Nothing!" I said, exasperated. "At least, I don't think I did anything wrong..."
"She sure has you whipped. She already has you thinking that you did something," Josh said.
"No way!" I insisted, but I knew it was true. Who had decided to come to the concert? "I just like to make her happy."
"How about making yourself happy? I could tell you weren't into all this 'meet the band' crap, and to tell you the truth, neither am I."
"You aren't?" I said, incredulous.
"No. I get bored answering the same questions over and over again, and being treated like I'm just a name,"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Everyone treats us like we're one person, and that we're these weird celebrity non-people, and that our favorite thing to do is scrawl our name over and over again."
I laughed. "Oh yeah, its so bad having everyone love you," I said sarcastically.
He laughed. "They don't love us, just the idea of us. It gets old real quick," he commented. This was a revelation to me. I thought that everyone famous is really narcissistic, and can't get enough of having people shout their names.
"I guess I never really thought about it that way. Good." I said.
"Good?" he said, eyebrows raised.
"I thought you were mad that I didn't know your name, and that I wasn't asking you to write it on my arm."
"Are you kidding?" he laughed. "I'm glad someone can treat me like a regular guy for once." Then he checked his watch.
"Oh jeez, sorry, I'm making you late for the concert," I said, realizing that he was supposed to be working. "Thanks for the laugh. I needed it." I turned to walk away again, but he stopped me with another "Wait!"
I turned back. "Yeah?"
"Are you leaving?"
"Well, yeah. The only reason I came here was because she wanted to," I said.
"Do you think maybe you can stay and watch the show?" he asked, his eyes looking hopeful.
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not exactly a fan. Plus Jen has my ticket." I answered.
"I can get you a backstage pass!" he said brightly. He seemed like a cool enough guy, even though he was a member of N'Sync.
"Please? I think you need some guy time right now, and maybe we can hang after the concert," he said tentatively.
"Well..." I began. I really didn't want to stay. I mean, I had already had a huge fight with Jen, and all I wanted to do was go home and maybe study a little for my calculus exam next week. On the other hand, Josh was probably right. I didn't really feel like being alone right now, I wanted to be out there doing things. Still, I felt weird that it was this guy from this boy band.
"Please? I'm an expert at dating problems," he said, a smile in his eyes.
"Oh really?" I said, laughing.
"Come on, we'll have some fun! After the concert, the other guys like to go clubbing, but I don't really feel like it tonight, and it would be nice to hang with someone new," he said.
"Alright, maybe I can show you around town," I said, still grinning.
"I don't know about that. You feel like being mobbed?" he said.
"Oh, right. You're just that popular. You're in Seattle, dude, people don't listen to you." I teased.
"You're on! Now wait here while I get you a pass," Then he turned back towards the meeting room.
I checked my watch, and realized that the concert would be starting in less than fifteen minutes. I hoped that I wouldn't make him late; he seemed really cool.
He came back after a few minutes and handed me what looked like an ID card with a cord around it, I guess so that I could put it around my neck.
"Here you go. Now you'd better be backstage when I get done," he said, jokingly.
"And what if I'm not?" I teased.
"I'll have to hire my hit man," he said, grinning. "The band is allowed one hit per year, and I've been saving up."
"Whatever, dude," I said, waving my hand at him to dismiss the idea.
"Well, I have to get back," he said.
"Later," I said, turning the pass so that I could read it. It was made of black cardboard, encased in a plastic laminated packet. It said Backstage on it, and it had some sort of weird blue decal on it that glowed strangely. Probably an authenticity sticker or something.
Before I could really do anything, the exec guy that had been laughing with me earlier during the meeting approached me.
"I guess JC wants you to go backstage," he said, pointing to the pass in my hands.
"Who?" I said, baffled.
"JC," he answered. Then, seeing my confused face, said "The guy who you were just talking to?"
"He said his name was Josh," I said.
"It is, but everybody calls him JC," insisted the exec.
"Whatever, " I said under my breath. Wouldn't Josh have told me that he had a nickname that everybody used? You now, like when you say I'm John, but everyone calls me Johnny. Already I felt lied to by my new friend.
"Well, anyway, follow me to where you'll be watching the concert, " he said, and I followed him out of the corridor that served the VIP booths to a door guarded by two Goliath-like security guards. They both accosted me as I approached the door.
"And where do you think you're going?" said one of them, though they both looked so similar they could have been twins.
The exec turned around. "He's supposed to be going backstage," he said, in a slightly irritated tone. I guess I annoyed him by revealing my ignorance as to Josh's name. "Show him your pass," he said to me.
I held up the black cardboard on a cord, and one of them snatched it away from me. I leaned back, in an exaggerated gesture that the guy was acting a little too "secure". He handed it back to me and I shoved it in my pocket. I wasn't about to put it around my neck and look like a total idiot. Then I remembered that I already had a VIP pass around my neck.
The exec led me through a maze of rooms, which I guess were conference rooms when the stadium wasn't used for concerts, because I could see large tables surrounded by chairs in a couple of open doors. Another security guard guarded a door on the left side, but I didn't know why.
We kept walking, and I realized that I had no idea where I was supposed to be going. Now that I thought about it, the term "backstage" was kind of weird because the actual stage was in the center of the arena, surrounded by bleachers, and there wasn't really a "back" to it. I didn't even know where I was supposed to be standing.
Eventually, the guy led me down four flights of stairs to the basement, taking almost twenty minutes. He pulled open a final door, and after another brush with security, I saw a shrine to mechanics. The room behind the door was huge. It wasn't the size of the field, but it was obviously right underneath it. In the center, there were 5 large columns that were probably elevators to put the guys on stage from below. They were surrounded by cables and lifts. The entire room was overrun with cables and wires going everywhere, and you could see the metal scaffolding that was holding up the bulk of the stage. I guess "backstage" really meant "below stage".
The room was filled with cables and spare stage lights and lighting boards, and there were at least fifty people in the room, either moving signals or carrying cords or messing with wires. On the left side was a huge display of computers and mixing boards, with about ten people pulling switches and stuff, and I guessed that it was the main sound support. Large sound equipment was also surrounding the 5 columns, but they weren't being used. I felt like I had just walked into Star Trek.
It was also very loud in the room, not just from the constant activity of the sound crew, and the whirring sound the elevators were making, but I could hear the deep bass and music from the stage, as well as the distant roar of the crowd. Apparently, the concert had already started. Almost everybody had on a set of earphones, including the executive, who also had a headset attached to his. I covered my hands with my ears; I would go deaf by the end of the concert. I hoped that I wouldn't be staying here; aside from the roaring noise, I couldn't even see the concert, or really hear any of the music, aside from the deepest base tones, and I was pretty sure that "Backstage pass" meant really good seats.
The exec disappointed me, and led me to a room on the other side of the huge below-stage room. It was a small room with a TV monitor attached to the wall, a scarred Formica table in the center and some folding chairs on either side of it. The room was brightly lit with fluorescent light, but looked really pathetic. The TV was showing the concert, and I could see Josh dancing around with the other four, so far nameless guys. I raised my eyebrows at the exec. This was backstage? I wouldn't even be seeing it live, and they were only ten feet above me. Oh well. It wasn't like I really wanted to see it anyway, I reminded myself, but I was actually looking forward to after the concert. I had told all my friends what I would be doing tonight, and they had steered clear, expecting Jen and me to "sleep in" after the concert, where Jen would be "thanking" me for agreeing to come with her.
"This is the best we can do on short notice. There's no official 'backstage' at this location, so we didn't give out backstage passes, but since JC insisted, you can hang around in here and watch it until he gets back," said the executive. And with that, he left.
Well, that would explain why the two National Guardsmen out there had been so suspicious, and why the executive was kind of pissed: it probably wasn't his job to lead me around. Still, this was going to suck.
I really can't stand N'sync. Their music is so fake, it just makes me want to throw up. I tried to change the channel on the monitor, but apparently it was a closed circuit deal, because all the channels had the same thing, just from different angles. I then tried turning the volume down, but after I did that, I could still hear it from the actual performance, as well as the whirring sounds of the machinery in the next room.
As I was thinking about how I was going to entertain myself for the next few hours or so, there was a brief break in the noise, as they had just finished their song. I watched the TV, and I saw the elevator platforms bringing them back down from the stage. I quickly pulled open the door to see if I could "thank" Josh for the great seats, but I was greeted by another security guard's back, which blocked the door.
"Excuse me," I said politely.
The guy turned around and regarded me with a sneer. "You're not supposed to talk to the band until after the concert," he said, smiling.
"But I just talked to one of them half an hour ago," I insisted.
"Don't you know that they only have thirty seconds to change? You won't even be able to say hello, and if you do, you'll make them late."
"Change?" I repeated. "You mean they change clothes in the middle of the performance?!?" "Haven't you ever been to a pop concert?" he said, crossing his arms, the fluorescent lights of the room giving his bald forehead a shiny texture. "It's all about clothes. Now get back in there."
If it had been the executive guarding the door, I would have challenged him. I can be pretty intimidating because I'm an athlete, but this guy was like seven feet tall, and like two hundred and fifty pounds. He was born to be a security guard, or if that didn't work, a bouncer. I swallowed my pride and retreated into the dingy waiting room, and I saw on the TV that the guys had changed from their black-denim free-for-all to jumpsuits in primary colors: Shaved Head was wearing white, the blond guy was wearing green, the guy with the goatee was wearing orange, the other dark haired guy was wearing blue, and Josh was wearing yellow. He looked like a banana, and I started laughing out loud.
I don't know what song they were singing, but I admitted that they could dance their choreography pretty good. Jen has always told me that I need more groove to my dance moves, and I could tell that this was probably why she was so attracted to them.
I heard too many 'baby's' and 'forevers' to persuade me to watch them much longer, so I shut off the TV. Even though I could still hear it, at least I couldn't see it.
Over the next two and a half hours, I counted the number of stains on the linoleum (143). I rearranged the room three or four times, but the table was too ugly to look good anywhere but in the center of the room. I stacked the five folding chairs into a pyramid, then knocked them over, enjoying a sound that wasn't "Oh baby, this I promise you," magnified ten thousand times or a whirring machine. Occasionally, the security guard would open the door and asked if I wanted a soda or something. He seemed like a pretty nice guy when he wasn't in his security guard persona and everything.
Finally, finally, I heard the music stop for the last time, and I heard the roar of fans screaming themselves hoarse. I turned on the TV and saw the lights dimming and the guys returning to "backstage" via elevator. I pulled open the waiting room door, and saw the security guard, whose name was Mike, gesturing that it was ok to come out of my cell. I rolled my eyes back at him, and he smiled.
"Austin!" I heard Josh shout my name, and he came running up to me, all sweaty, and in a third set of clothes, this time, black leather. His face was flushed and he looked excited, probably from a good performance. I wouldn't know, since I hadn't really seen the concert.
"Let's go someplace quieter," he half-shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the loud center room. I allowed myself to be pulled out of the room, and then Josh let go of me.
"I have to change, so why don't you come on up to my dressing room," he said, slightly out of breath. Obviously singing for three hours takes a lot out of you.
"Um, ok," I said, a little surprised. I mean, I barely knew him, and he already wanted me to come to his dressing room? But before the concert, we had hit it off right away, so it really wasn't that big of a deal. He had to tell the executive guy and a few security guards before it was ok, and I followed him up the stairs (I have no idea why there are no elevators in this stupid stadium) into the corridor that had been guarded earlier, and now I knew why: the offices in here had been turned into dressing rooms, and I was greeted right away by the guy with the goatee.
"Hey JC, you picking up strangers now?" he said, and we all laughed. I stuck my hand out, and he gripped it in a vice-like handshake that felt like my hand was being broken. I tried not to wince, and succeeded, because he said,
"Wow, no one has been able to take one of my handshakes before. Looks like JC got himself a real man!" And we all laughed, but I noticed that Josh wasn't really laughing that hard.
"I'm Austin Reiter," I said. "Please don't freak out, but I don't think I know your name."
"Freak out? That's great! I can finally introduce myself without someone already knowing everything they can read about me!" he laughed again, a really deep laugh. He reminded me of a bear, except with a wilder fashion sense.
I waited.
"Oh, sorry, I'm Joey Fatone, nice to meet you!" He tried to shake my hand again, but I yanked it back.
"I think I can only handle one of your handshakes for one day," I said, grinning.
Then I followed Josh into a room on the right side, where I saw a conference table that had been pushed against the wall, and a large clothing rack. Even though it was a conference room, there were no chairs, and it was pretty dark because there wasn't a window either, I noted. Josh then started taking off his shirt, and I realized that I wasn't supposed to be in there.
"I'll wait until you're done changing," I said, and headed for the door.
"No wait!" he said, his head caught in his shirt.
I turned to look at him, and for the first time saw what kind of body he had. I don't really know how to describe another guy's body, so let me just say he was built like a runner, thin, but certainly not bony. I had thought he was skinny when I first saw him, but without a shirt he looked pretty defined.
Then I stopped. What was I doing? I just checked out another guy! Before I could do anything, he pulled the shirt off his head, and smiled at me.
"Like what you see?" he said softly.
"What?" I said, confused. Then I got a hold of myself. "Hurry up and change. I'll be waiting in the hall, dork," I said, trying to make a joke, but his face seemed weird. He looked upset. Before he could say anything, I ducked back out of the room. This time, Joey had left, and the corridor was empty, but I could hear some people talking down the hall. About a minute later, two of the guys came out of one of the rooms. One of them was the guy with the shaved head, and he was now wearing cowboy boots, baggy dark blue jeans, and a sleeveless black T-shirt with a picture of a pony on it. The other guy, the blond, was wearing a baby blue long-sleeved shirt underneath a gray one, and he was wearing khaki cargoes. He looked really normal compared to the other guy. They both spotted me at once and grinned.
"Hey, you're the guy from the Meet and Greet, right?" said the guy with the shaved head.
"Of course! I remember you!" said the other one.
"How did you get back here? I got the impression you didn't really like us," said Shaved Head.
"I'm here with..." I started to say, but Josh pulled open his door before I could say anything. The two guys gave each other a look and smiled. What the hell? What was going on here?
Josh turned beet red for some reason seeing the other two guys, but at least he had managed to find another shirt to put on. He was barefoot though, and up close I realized that he was a little shorter than I was.
Apparently there was some sort of inside joke going on, because I was clueless. Nobody said anything for about five minutes, and Josh looked more and more embarrassed, and the other guys were trying not to laugh. I felt really awkward, not understanding the joke, so I made a pathetic stab at conversation.
"Josh and I are going out to give my girl some time to cool off," I said.
"I'll bet," said Shaved Head, still laughing. Now I was angry. It really sucks to be around people on an inside joke, and you're not in.
"Oh wait, weren't you the guy with the hot Asian chick?" Shaved Head said suddenly, as if I had been holding it out on him.
I frowned. I did not appreciate him calling Jen a "hot Asian chick", even if I was mad at her.
"You'll have to forgive him, he's not used to adult conversation," joked the blond, seeing my irritation. I smiled thinly, still staring at the guy with the shaved head.
Deciding to ignore them, I turned to Josh, and said "Hurry up and get your shoes on, I want to get out of here." He practically fled back into the room.
Apparently my hostility towards these two guys was starting to work, because they both began apologizing suddenly.
"Hey, dude, chill, I was just messing around," said Baldy.
"Yeah, he doesn't mean it, he's just excited about the good performance." (Blond)
"I forgot that you two had a fight, I'm sorry, I shouldn't..."(Shaved Head)
"Shouldn't have called her that," the blond interrupted, silencing Baldy with a stare. They were still doing their inside joke, and I felt even more awkward than I already did. I also realized that I still didn't know what their names were. Part of me wanted to know so that I wouldn't make an idiot of myself like I had asking Josh and Joey their names, but the other part of me hated the idea of even knowing anything about the band.
"Well, Josh convinced me to let her cool off for awhile, and since he doesn't really want to go to a club or anything, he asked if I'd show him around town."
Shaved Head raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
Finally, Josh came out of his dressing room, having pulled on shoes and a jacket.
"Ok, let's go!" he said rushing past the two other guys.
"Well, bye, um..." I said, trying desperately to remember a name, but I couldn't even fathom one name. They didn't look even remotely familiar, and if I had seen them both on the street outside of the arena, I never in a million years would have recognized them. This is what happens when you change the channel when MTV puts one of their music videos on. I guess I never even gave them a chance.
"Oh, sorry Austin, that's Justin and that's Lance," said Josh, rescuing me, pointing out Shaved Head as Justin and the blond as Lance. At least now I knew their names, but I would probably never be able to forget them.
"What? You don't even know who we are?" said Justin, who I was beginning to like less and less.
"Not everyone wants a piece of you and your ego trip," said Lance, and we all laughed a little, but I was a little ticked at the gay connotation. I hadn't come to their stupid concert because I liked them, and I knew that the only guys who would openly admit to liking the band were gay, the other guys being too insecure to admit it. I didn't like the band period, not because I was afraid people would think I was gay if I did. I have no problem with gay people, and actually think it is good to have the kind of confidence they have to admit something about themselves without worrying what other people will think. However, it was a little too prevalent here at N'sync headquarters, and I was starting to wonder if some of the rumors about the band were true. I had noticed it when we had first walked back here, and Joey had joked that I was Josh's new boyfriend. That wasn't so bad, really, and I had laughed it off, but now Justin was insinuating that the only reason I would come to their concert or the Meet and Greet was because I was gay and in love with one of them.
"Have you been living under a rock?" said Justin, still smiling.
"Yeah, that's it," I said dismissively, simultaneously deciding not to offend anyone with my opinions on N'Sync. Instead, I followed Josh out of the corridor, grateful for the interruption. Justin didn't seem like a very nice guy, and I guess Lance was just his interpreter, because every time Justin said anything offensive, Lance would apologize for him. Too full of himself, obviously.
Once we were out of Justin and Lance's earshot, Josh turned to me and said "Well, what did you think of the concert, man?"
"It was great!" I lied. If I didn't want to offend Justin and Lance, I certainly didn't want to offend Josh.
"Yeah, what was your favorite song?" he said.
"Umm..." Now I was stuck. Even if I had actually watched the concert, I wouldn't have been able to tell one song from another, and I knew next to nothing about the band.
"I thought they were all good," I said, a wussy answer.
"Come on, don't give me that. What did you really think?" he said, slapping me on the shoulder.
"Well, I liked the ending," I said, which was true. "But come on. Let's talk about what we want to do tonight."
"Well..." said Josh, pulling on a baseball cap over his long, wild hair. "I kind of want to see the Space Needle, and maybe the SuperDome,"
"What! Those are tourist traps! You came all the way here for that?!?" I felt a little better. I had been worrying about what we do too, and if I would seem like a great big nobody compared to Josh, who was a huge celebrity.
"We could go scuba diving, then to Doc Maynard's, then maybe go down to Pioneer Square, or if you like, we can go to Washington Park or take a ferry to Puget Sound, or we could even go back to campus, if you just want to chill. There's a lot more to this town than the Space Needle. You can't even really see it at night, and it's all the way uptown!" Now I was excited. I hadn't done any exploring since I was like 16, being so busy with school and things that I hadn't even really noticed any of the stuff in my own city. But with Josh there, a novice, I suddenly felt like an expert.
We spent all night with me dragging him everywhere. We went to Union Lake and watched a twilight alternative rock concert; we went to the Japanese Gardens in Washington Park and watched a tea ceremony, and then we took a ferry to Mercer Island, and then we played pool at Sharky's, and then we went to Pioneer Square and pointed out all the hotties outside the clubs I wasn't allowed into. By the time we were done, it was three o'clock in the morning, and we were both exhausted. We had talked non-stop about everything, and if he had been out-of-breath after the concert, he could barely breathe when I was through with him.
We talked about our families (well, really his family since I don't really have much of a family left anymore), and how it felt to move away from them for the first time (me to college, him to stardom). We talked about our dreams and hopes, and about what we wanted out of life. I had explained to him one of the reasons Jen and I fought so much: she was very ambitious, and I just didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. She hadn't been lying when she had told everyone I hadn't picked a major yet. She had told me that ever since she was little, she wanted to be a research scientist, and how much she loved the discovery of biology and chemistry, and when she was in high school had already decided to become a biochemical engineer so that she could combine her love of math and science with her love of research. I hate math and science. I'm no good at it, and I no matter how hard I try, I can't memorize the countless equations and functions; I just get confused. I like to draw, and I like to write. I like freedom and expression; I don't like deadlines and order. At first, Jen and I thought that that made our relationship dynamic, because we were so different. She was the academic; I was the dumb jock. We thought that she could help me with math and stuff, and I could help her, since she can't stand writing. Unfortunately, it didn't really work that way. I'm creative, and she's logical. She used to set study schedules for me and give me tables of charts and information to memorize and I would just ignore it. I couldn't handle all the pressure and the schedules. When I tried to help her with English assignments, she kept telling me how pointless writing arguments is and how useless a credit English was. I was a little upset because English was my favorite class, but I didn't let on. We never agreed when it came to schoolwork, and we could never study together, because we had two very different styles. I wasn't a slacker, but I can't concentrate sitting at a desk in absolute silence. I have to be on the ground, or on a bed, with music or people talking around me, or I can't concentrate, whereas she does best sitting by herself at a desk in the library with no distractions.
When I explained this to Josh, he was sympathetic. He had said that he wrote a lot of the songs for the group and knew exactly how I felt about needing noise to get creative. He said that in order to really be inspired, he couldn't sit at a desk and music suddenly came magically to him. He also hated math and stuff, and preferred creative activities, obviously, because he was a singer and stuff. We seemed to agree on a lot more than I had thought. When I told him about me needing to take calculus to fit the general university requirement for my athletic scholarship, he asked me if I had ever thought of a career in sports. I explained that I had long ago abandoned the idea of me playing baseball professionally, because you have to be extremely good to get into the major leagues, and I knew that I wasn't of that caliber. Plus, I'm really a pretty private person, and I can't stand being the center of attention and have everyone look at me. I told him I had thought about being a sportswriter, but that quoting sports statistics isn't exactly very creative, and I would pretty much be a journalist restricted to sports. I loved baseball, but I didn't want to report on it. I also told him how I had discarded any idea of being a journalist: with the exception of syndicated columnists, they have little ability to be creative, and the deadlines would kill me. I had also once thought about being a teacher, but since I don't like being the center of attention, I don't think that would work either.
Then he told me that when he was just getting out of high school, his dad had took him aside to ask him what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He had said that the best career for you would be what you love to do, and that's why he's where he is today. He loves to sing, and write songs, and dance. If he hadn't have listened to his dad, he might be where I was, just killing time until I found a dead-end job and became miserable.
"You have to chase your dreams, man, or you'll never know what's out there," he said philosophically, and I jokingly called him Josh the Sage for the rest of the evening.
We talked about childhood memories, and favorite heavy metal bands (he shocked me when he said he liked some of the stuff I like; I had thought he was all pop music, all the way). It was like we had known each other forever, because we always seemed to have the same ideas about everything. Except one thing: I kept bringing up Jen and how I felt about her, and he just closed up. He'd change the subject suddenly, and I took his dismissiveness as a sign that I wasn't supposed to be worrying about her, I was supposed to be making her miss me. But I couldn't help it. I was worried that I hadn't been attentive enough to her, and I hadn't had the decency to just act mature for this one evening. She had been looking forward to this evening and I had ruined it. I kept trying to call her cell phone during the night, but each time, Josh would grab my phone and remind me why I was out with him instead of in with her.
Josh said he didn't really have time for relationships, and that Justin was the only guy in the band to have a serious relationship right now. He also said that he and Justin were best friends, which surprised me, because I had gotten the idea that he and Lance were best friends. When I asked who Justin was seeing, he looked dumbfounded.
"Don't tell me you don't even know about him and Britney Spears," he said.
"He's dating Britney Spears?" I said, incredulous. I knew who she was, of course. Her name wasn't as ambiguous as N'Sync. "Since when?"
"Since forever! They grew up together!"
"Really?! I never knew that," I said, looking disgusted. Well, I hope she could stand his egomaniac personality.
"Didn't you ever watch The Mickey Mouse Club?" Josh asked.
"I don't think so. I've heard of it, but I never really watched it," I answered.
"Did you, like, not have a TV when you were a kid?" he joked, exasperated.
I smiled. "Of course we had a TV. I've just never really liked singing and dancing. Isn't that what it mostly was? That and goody-goody crap?"
"'Goody-goody crap'?" Josh repeated with a grin.
"You know, like Barney, except for older kids. Helping others and all that crap." I smirked. Barney had been after my time, so he had been the butt of many cruel jokes between my friends and I when I was in junior high.
"Well, I was on that show," said Josh. I looked at him.
"Are you for real?"
"Of course I'm for real. Justin and Britney were on it too," he said, a little defensively.
I couldn't help it. I just started laughing and couldn't stop.
"It's not funny. I really was," said Josh. I just kept giggling.
"Ready, Mouseketeers!" I said, teasing the shit out of him. He smiled and looked away, as if to say, "Keep it up, and you'll be sorry!"
"You all were on that show? When did you suddenly become N'sync? Hey, wait, didn't that show get cancelled?" Suddenly I had a whole bunch of questions.
"Yeah, when they cancelled the show, Justin and I were still really good friends, and we like to sing, and then Chris and Joey lived in our hometown and were thinking of starting a band, so we joined."
"Who's Chris?" I asked, but I should have already known the answer. After all, I had met four of the guys, and had learned their names. By process of elimination, Chris must have been the last guy.
"He's the other guy, the one with the blue hair," Josh clarified. If it hadn't been for the blue hair, I probably wouldn't even have recognized him.
"But wait, that's only four people. What about...Lance?" I said, as I searched my memory for the fifth member.
"He joined later when we needed a bass singer. We had already submitted a demo tape to the record label, and they had said we needed more harmony."
"Wow. I guess I never really thought about how the band had been started," I admitted.
"Did you guys want anything else?" the waitress at the cafe that we were currently at interrupted us. She was Asian, and reminded me a little bit of Jen, but her hair was cut short.
"No thanks," Josh answered, looking up at her. The girl's eyes went wide, but she played it cool.
"Are you who I think you are?" she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Maybe," said Josh. "Who do you think I am?"
"Someone pretty popular," she said, stressing the pop in popular.
She very casually dropped her hand onto the table and traced her fingers across Josh's palm.
He locked eyes with me, and I smiled. He had said he had never really had a serious relationship, so maybe it was good that he was being hit on. Unfortunately he looked kind of agitated.
"Well, you guessed it," said Josh dismissively. I guessed that he wasn't into Asians, maybe.
"Are you sure I can't get you anything else?" pressed the waitress, her hand falling on Josh's shoulder. I had been long forgotten of course, so I didn't bother hiding my smile. Instead of laughing, I covered my mouth with my hand and continued smiling at Josh. He looked less than enthusiastic.
"Maybe I can get you something?" said Josh dully. "You got a pen?" And I finally got the message.
Josh had told me that he hated when all people wanted from him was a signature or a picture. Regardless of how hot the babe might be, I could understand how disappointing it must be sometimes.
She handed him her order pad and a pen, and he signed it. She said her name was Rhonda. Then she left.
Realizing what might happen if Rhonda told anyone who was in the cafe, I grabbed my jacket, and pulled out my wallet to quickly pay the bill, but Josh said "No! Let me do it!"
"Ok..." I said, a little uncertain. I can't stand it when other people pay for me for some reason: I just feel really awkward.
We both got up to leave, but as we did, I heard someone say "Oh my God, is that JC from N'Sync?" and I knew the jig was up. I quickly pushed him to the door and shielded him from what seemed twenty people (everyone in the cafe at three in the morning) rushed him, a few people tired after a night of partying, a few people cramming for midterms next week. The cafe was just off campus, and was mostly filled with students. After I had pushed him out of the cafe, some people pulled me out of the way and tried to run up to Josh, but I pushed my way through and ran with him to my car, which I had parked behind the coffee house. Before I could quickly unlock the door and get inside before we were "mobbed", a voice behind us said "Stop right there!"
Remember, I can only do so much: I need feedback to know if I should continue. scottiescot@hotmail.com