My Surprise Romance

Hi everyone!

Yes, here I am again with another installment of my story...and it's a long one (just a warning). Thank you to everyone who took the time out to send me e-mails...you do not know how much I appreciate them. Thank you so much! If after you read this story, there's something you wanna comment or complain about, don't hesitate to get it off your shoulders. The address is sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

Of course no installment would be complete without thank you's--no ramblings this time...Cele, Damon, Clarke, Matt, Khiem (spelled it right this time!), John and Justin for all of your encouragement and support. I love each and every one of you's. I hope I'm not forgetting someone...and now for something completely different...it's....the disclaimer:

DISCLAIMER: This story deals with a m/m relationship that you must be 18 or 21 years of age to read. It does not imply the sexuality of anyone in `N Sync, especially Lance Bass or Justin Timberlake. If you aren't comfortable then leave.

My Surprise Romance

Chapter 25

Diane Bass stood in the doorway of Lance's hospital room, her arms folded across her chest. There was an expectant look on her face as her eyes took in the sight of her son and another man together in the middle of a semi-passionate embrace. Upon seeing her, I pulled myself off of her son so fast, I'm surprised that I didn't break my legs in the process of doing so. I looked over at Lance, whose face has become as pale as a ghost. His jaw had dropped open and I could see the terror in his eyes as his mother closed the door behind her and began to approach us. To my ears, her footsteps sounded like lead weights hitting the tile floor. I felt as though the walls were caving in on me as I watched Diane pull a chair from the foot of the bed and place it next to the bedside. She sat in it, as her eyes looked from Lance to me and then back to Lance again. My heartbeat began to ring in my ears and all I could think was, `so this is what it feels like to die.' Call me crazy, but a stab wound would have been heaven compared to this.

"Either of you gentlemen feel like explaining anything to me?" Diane finally asked, her voice as quiet as a pin drop as she leaned back in her chair. "Lance? Stephen? Either one of you?" I found that at that particular moment that I couldn't speak. My mouth felt like someone had stuffed an entire bag of cotton balls in it. I turned to my boyfriend and found that Lance was in no better shape than I was.

"Uh....mom...I can explain," Lance began to stammer, his green eyes filling with tears as Diane's eyes locked with his. Obliviously, Lance's fingers began to twist the bedsheet over his lap as he was unable to speak the words that he wanted to say so badly. Diane watched her son struggle for a few seconds, before her protective motherly instincts kicked in. She leapt up from the chair and wrapped her arms around Lance, pressing his head to her chest.

"It's okay," she whispered, holding him tightly in her arms. "Lance, it's okay. I know already, honey." Lance looked up, his green eyes clear with surprise, which I'm sure were identical to mine. We looked at each other, completely dumbfounded by his mother's announcement. That was the last thing in the world we thought she would say.

"What?" Lance finally asked her when he had regained the power of speech. "You know about...me and Stephen?" He shook his head in confusion, as though he was attempting to make sense of the situation that had developed in front of him. "How?"

"Blame your road manager," Diane sighed, pulling herself away from her son. "I ran into him a few minutes ago in the hallway, and he seemed a bit teed off, to say the least." She gave both of us a shaky smile, as she continued. "And he took me off to the side and started babbling something about you--" She looked directly at Lance. "--coming out of the closet and Stephen being your boyfriend." Diane sat back down on the chair and nervously patted her hair. "Well, of course I didn't believe him at first...and then I came in here and..." she trailed off, looking uncomfortable at the thought. "Well, let's just say that pictures certainly do speak louder than words."

I stared at my sneakers for a few seconds, before Diane's voice cut into my ignorance. "So, Stephen...how did you meet my son?" She looked as though she really didn't want to know, yet her curiosity was killing her.

I swallowed a couple of times, refusing to meet Lance's steady gaze on me. I knew that if I would look at him, I would either die or faint out of sheer nervousness. `At least I'm in the right place to do either,' my brain cracked pathetically. Finally, I realized that I had to say something.

"I met your son when he and the band were playing in my town. My sister was a contest winner and I chaperoned her and her two friends." Ahhh, if life could only be that simple again. "Lance and I became friends and..." I trailed off. I felt that following up that statement with, `and now I sleep with your son every night' would be a bit crude, so I just let my words end there. Diane sat in the chair, absorbing the words I had just spoken and then gave me a slight nod of her head.

After a few more seconds of excruciating silence, Diane finally spoke up again and looked back up at her son. "Lance...how long did you know you were..." She paused, not able to say the word.

"Gay?" he filled in for her, causing Diane's face to redden slightly.

"Um, yes...how long did you know?"

I could tell by the expression on his face, that Lance was thinking about his mother's question. "I've known for awhile already, mom. It was just that I hadn't met the right person to confirm what I felt inside...and when I did, I knew." Lance looked up at me, a smile on his face as he tentatively extended his hand out to me. I reached for it, and once again felt his soft fingers enclose around mine. I let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of comfort that always settled over me whenever Lance's hand held mine.

Diane stared at us, her eyes traveling over us for a couple of seconds before she began to cry. Lance and I dropped hands, fearing that our slight display of affection had set a nerve off in her. But she noticed it and began to wave her hands around.

"No, no--it's not that," she said, motioning to our hands. "It's just that..." She paused for a moment, while Lance and I both leaned over, waiting for what she was going to say next. "What you said was absolutely...beautiful."

Lance and I both let out immense sighs of relief and then looked at each other and laughed when we realized what we had done. Diane smiled at us, while reaching over and grabbing a couple of tissues from the box on Lance's table. She dabbed at her eyes, before standing up and hugging Lance once more.

"Look, you're my son...I'm proud of you for everything you've done and everything that you've accomplished." She looked at him with loving eyes as she took his chin in one of her hands. "Lance, I love you...I'm can't say that I'm not shocked--because I am. I wasn't expecting to hear this from you, but I'm not going to hate you or disown you--you are still my son." I cringed at her use of the word, `disown', as I thought of my own mother, but pushed that quickly out of my mind as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.

Upon hearing her words, Lance reached up, wrapped his arms around his mother, and hugged her tightly. When they parted, I saw tears of relief beginning to form in the corners of his eyes at hearing his mother's approval. "Thanks, mom," he said, trying not to cry. "I wasn't going to tell you until after the tour, though."

"So I got an early surprise," Diane laughed, smiling at her son while tears ran down her face. She stared at him for a few more moments, before realizing that I was still in the room, watching them. She wiped the tears away, when she suddenly stood up from the bed. "May I talk to you in the hallway, Stephen?"

I froze in my spot, and I must have had one hell of a look on my face, because Diane laughed and just waved me over. "Come on, Stephen. I don't bite," she said while walking towards the door. I followed her, and looked at Lance over my shoulder. He just shrugged at me, clearly not understanding why his mother wanted to talk to me. The same could be said for me as well.

Once we were in the hallway, Diane and I walked towards an entrance where we wound up outside of the hospital, next to the ambulance entrance. We stopped, and she squinted at me as the bright sunlight hit her eyes.

"Stephen...I'm not going to mince words with you, but I'd like this conversation to be between you and me only. Please do not tell Lance--my boy's been through so much already..." she trailed off, her gaze wandering away from my face. Then she looked at me once more.

"I'm not going to say that I feel one hundred percent okay with this--it's shock to find out your son, who you thought liked girls, now has a boyfriend. In fact it goes against everything I believe in," Diane said firmly. Can you imagine how uncomfortable I felt right then? My boyfriend's mother was basically saying that she hated me--great, like I needed that.

"I'm sorry," I said lamely, not sure what else to say at that moment, but Diane cut me off.

"Stephen, please listen. I worry about my son--always have and always will. But he's twenty-one now--he owns his own house, his own car and..his own life." She sighed at the realization and shook her head. "Look, it's perfectly clear that Lance is," she winced a little at the words that left her mouth, "In love with you. I could tell that something was wrong after you left this morning and in fact, that's the reason I wanted to take him out to dinner tonight. I wanted to talk to him. I thought that maybe that something was wrong with the rest of the guys or whatever, but now I know. And even though I'm not happy, I'm glad I know. I don't hate you Stephen, I really don't. It's just...weird," she said, finding the right word to fit her mood.

"You're taking this much better than my mother," I told her, trying to smile. "She disowned me--thank you for not doing that to Lance." Diane's expression turned from blank to sympathetic.

"She disowned you?" she asked in horror. "Really?" I nodded.

"Yes she did. One she found out that Lance and I were a couple, she disowned me immediately. She couldn't handle the fact that..." I trailed off, feeling the lump in my throat become bigger. Diane noticed this, and reached up to place a hand on my shoulder.

"I understand...that's what I didn't want to do to Lance. I still love my son, and I bet your mother loves you too. She's just in shock. I can't imagine any mother not loving their son." I know that her words were supposed to heal, to soothe my ruffled soul, but instead they made me feel worse. Why couldn't I have a mother like this, instead of some nut job who went to see a shrink and went to church to pray for my salvation?

I didn't answer her question, instead I switched the subject. "Look, Mrs. Bass--"

"Please call me Diane."

"Um, okay, Diane," I said, giving her a shaky smile. "I want you to know that I do care deeply about your son...I'm not some groupie that just wants in in his celebrity. In fact, I never even listened to the band before and I had no idea who Lance even was until we introduced ourselves to each other. Needless to say, I fell for your son." I blushed at sharing my feelings with the mother of the person I was dating, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted Diane to know that I was a real person who truly cared for her son. "Thank you for not jumping to anger, Diane. Lance was so worried that you would act in the same irrational way that my mother did."

"He was?" she asked, her eyes widening in the same manner that Lance's did when he became surprised by something. Must run in the family, I thought with a smile.

"Yup, he was. We talked about it on a number of occasions, in fact. He was more than worried--he speaks of you very highly."

She fell silent for a few more seconds more. "Thank you," she finally said in her southern accent, as she placed a hand on my arm. "You seem very nice, Stephen--just the right type for my Lance." Diane gave me a genuine smile. "In fact, I feel a little--much, actually--better now that I've talked to you."

I was a bit shocked by her forward manner, but I returned her smile as I noticed that my heart was slowly regaining it's normal beating pattern. "I'm really glad that we had this talk, Diane. And that you listened to me--it really does mean a lot."

"It's not a problem, Stephen." Diane gave me another smile as she patted my hand. "Now, let's go back and see Lance, so he doesn't think we're killing each other out here." We both laughed at her remark as we walked back into the hospital, our hearts a bit lighter and our heads a bit clearer.

Lance was finally released from the hospital a few hours later, and the band's limo came to pick the three of us up. Luckily, no fans were around, so the trip back to the hotel was quite pleasing. No screaming, no hurrying--just Lance, his mother and me in the back of a limo, talking to each other like normal human beings. It was a refreshing change of pace.

However, our sense of peace was shattered as we approached the hospital and saw a crowd of teenage girls camping out front of the hotel, their homemade signs and gifts of care for Lance ready and waiting in their hot little hands. The limo driver took us to the back of the building where bodyguards were waiting to rush us from the limo to the service elevator. The teenagers had rallied around to the back of the building and had to be held back as Lance, Diane and I ran to the elevator. this was not easy for Lance, who had a bandage covering over half of his arm, but we made it, breathless and laughing as we got onto the elevator.

"I thought they were gonna take a chunk out of you," I teased Lance as he hit the button that took us to our floor. In return, he shot me a dirty look and just looked at his mother. Diane began to laugh, and I looked at her, bewildered.

She noticed my expression a few seconds later and that just made her laugh even more. "I'm just thinking of a time in Germany where the girls actually ripped Lance's shirt to shreds. It was freezing cold and it was snowing, and we could barely get on the bus." She shook her head at the memory. "That was such a long time ago...time passes so quickly," Diane sighed, a trace of melancholy in her voice. Just then the elevator doors opened up and we found ourselves back on our floor. We got off the elevator and walked straight to our room. Once I had opened it, I walked inside and Lance followed. He did a double take as he noticed his mother still in the hallway.

"Mom--don't you wanna come inside so we can get ready for dinner?" Lance asked, a look of confusion crossing over his face. Diane looked at us wistfully and then shook her head no.

"No?" Lance asked in surprise. "But you said you were staying until tonight. You even said you were leaving tomorrow."

"I've decided to leave on the next flight back home, honey," Diane said as she gave him a quick hug. "I think you and Stephen are perfectly capable of having your own dinner. Without me around." I noticed a trace of discomfort creeping into her voice as she said this. I still think it was still hard for her to see her son and another person of the same sex romantically together, but I'll give her credit for putting on a brave face and attempted to look happy for us.

"Are you sure?" Lance asked her incrediously. Diane just nodded in return, and clutched her purse a little tighter.

"I'm positive," she said, walking a little closer to her son. "Now give your mother a hug and a kiss god-bye and she'll be on her way." She held her arms out and Lance walked into them, and they hugged for a few seconds. When they parted, Diane looked at me and then held her arms out, indicating that she wanted to hug me. For a split second, I was shocked in place. Did she really want to hug me? The realization of what was happening, kicked into place and I walked over and returned her gesture of acceptance.

"Please take good care of my boy," she whispered in my ear as I wrapped my arms around her. I choked up a bit at her words, suddenly wishing with my whole heart that this woman was my mother. We separated and Diane gave me a smile and I noticed that it wasn't an awkward one, or an uncomfortable one--it was a real. I was a bit beside myself, as I stepped back to let Lance and Diane say their good-byes.

"Hey mom," Lance suddenly spoke up. "I'll walk you to the elevator, okay?" She looked at him, a bit of surprise in her eyes as she nodded. Lance held his elbow out to her and she laughed at his polite gesture as she slipped her arm through his and they left the room.

Once they had disappeared down the hallway, I walked over and sat on the bed. I sat there for a few seconds, staring off into space. Slowly, my mind began to recall the events of the day, and I sat there, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened to me.

A few seconds later, Lance appeared in the doorway, a mixture of relief and happiness on his face. After shutting the door and locking it, he sat next to me on the bed and absentmindedly took my hand in his. For the next few seconds, we didn't speak to each other, choosing instead to listen to our own thoughts rattling around in our heads.

"Your mother is really great," I finally said breaking the silence. I turned to look at Lance and was rewarded with a grin.

"Yeah, isn't she?" he said, pride echoing through his deep voice. And then the grin faded as his face took on a serious expression. "Y'know--I really thought she'd freak out on me. I couldn't believe that she walked in on us like that in the hospital." Lance recalled, shaking his head as he let out a laugh "We should really be more careful about where we, uh..." I watched his face turn slightly red as I slapped him on his knee.

"Yeah, I know. Someone told you that we were in the hospital, but nooo, they didn't listen to me," I teased Lance as I watched his face turn even redder. "Oh come on, I can't believe that you're getting embarrassed over something like that."

"No, it's not that--I just keep thinking of how my mother must've felt seeing us." Lance buried his head in his arms. "Her little boy making out with another guy that she didn't even know. It must have taken at least ten years off her life--there had to be a better way for her to find out," he mumbled into his hands.

"But she did," I said, placing a hand on his back. "And she took it pretty well."

Lance looked up at me, giving me a grateful look at hearing my remark. "Much better when you two came back from your little talk." He furrowed his eyebrows at me. "What did exactly did you two talk about anyway?"

I mimicked zipping my lips shut while remembering my promise to Diane. "Can't tell," I said, as Lance gave me a disgusted look.

"Awww, come on--if you tell me, I promise I'll make it worth your while," he said in a seductive voice, widening his green eyes in hopes that they would break me. I avoided his gaze and concentrated on the wall in front of me instead.

"Uh-uh. A promise is a promise" I said stubbornly, shaking my head as Lance pushed me down on the bed and straddled my hips. He looked down at me and sighed.

"Please? Pretty please?" Lance begged, leaning over and kissing me. I closed my eyes, almost on the verge of telling him. But I knew that I wouldn't--I had managed to gain Diane's trust--something that I never thought I would get. When I opened my eyes again, I looked straight into his pleading eyes as I shook my head at Lance.

"Oh, okay," he finally agreed, looking a bit perturbed. But then that passed and he gave me another one of his heart-melting grins. "I'll let you keep this secret from me--but no others, okay?"

I laughed, until the thought of Justin and his secret crossed my mind. Slowly my laughs died down and I hoped that Lance didn't notice the change in my expression. Luckily he didn't as I finally answered his question.

"Promise," I said, lying through my teeth as Lance bent down and pressed his soft lips to mine once more.

Chapter 26

A little while later, Josh and Cynthia came to our room and invited Lance and I to go out clubbing with them and the rest of the guys.

"Even Britney's going," Josh said, trying to persuade us. "Britney and her new boyfriend. He chuckled softly. "I was really surprised that she found one--she's usually telling the press that she doesn't have time to date. Either that or she's trying to convince them that her and Curly aren't going out."

Date? Boyfriend? Oh dear God...what the fuck was Justin trying to pull now? "What's his name," I asked nervously, while shooting a quick glance at my cousin. Once she saw me look at her, she promptly avoided my gaze and suddenly became interested in the generic painting that hung on the wall in front of her.

"Um..." Josh bit his lip. "I think it's Harold...no, Harris. That's it--Harris. He's an opera singer or something like that. Seems nice, good wardrobe," Josh commented, nodding his head in approval. "Nice guy for Britney, I'm glad she's finally found someone." I wanted to let out a groan at Josh's conclusion, but I held it back, instead flashing him a fake smile.

"Sounds good--hope I'll meet him soon," I lied as my mind reeled back to that day in the parking lot. I quickly looked over at Lance, who's concentration was focused completely on flipping through the television channels. Whew, I thought with relief, he hadn't noticed.

"It'd be good to get out..." Josh continued. "We are going to be stuck in L.A. for awhile, so we mine as well get out there and have a good time. You up for it, Scoop?"

Lance pulled his attention from the television and shook his head at his bandmate. "Josh, look--my arm," he said, lifting it up. By this time, Lance's arm had swelled up considerably and was bruised in quite a few places. "I can barely move it...I'll just stay in tonight." Lance looked at me. "Hey, Stephen--don't feel obliged to stay in with me--go out, have fun--without me," he added giving me a pout, causing Josh and Cynthia to groan.

I feel that I have to interject something here: I have never been the type to go out and club. I've always been more of a private, home-type person. If I ever did go out, it was to this strange little bar that played very old country music and served quarter beers. It was rarely crowded as most people my age would rather be shot than listen to crappy music like that. Part of this quirk about myself may be due to having spent most of my teenage years worrying and taking care of my sister. Part of it may have been that I've never been comfortable with dance music and the whole subculture that went with it. Either way, I wanted to just stay in and keep Lance company--not just for the more, um, shall we say, obvious reasons, but because I just wanted to be alone with him. Our whole life lately had been a whirlwind of craziness, and all I wanted a little downtime with Lance.

"Nah," I said, giving Josh and my cousin a smile. "I'm gonna stay in tonight you two."

Cynthia rolled her eyes and fluffed the hot pink feather boa that was wrapped around her neck. "You always stay in--even at home, you would stay in all the time. Well," she said, a smirk appearing on her face. "At least now I know you have a damn good reason to stay in." Her face changed from goofy to serious as another thought crossed her mind. "Hey Stevie--guess who called me?"

"Who?" I asked, as I grabbed the television remote from Lance's hands. He was starting to piss me off, flipping monotonously through the channels, without even pausing to see what was on them.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, grabbing the remote back from my hands.

"My mom and dad," Cynthia suddenly said and all thoughts of the remote flew out of my mind.

"I thought you told me they were in Vermont," I said, shifting myself to the side of the bed, so I could look at my cousin better. She shook her head, and for a brief second, looked troubled.

"Yeah, but it's been nothing but rain, rain, rain. So they decided to come home and somehow they found out I was on tour with `N Sync. I think it was the tabloid that tipped them off--the nosy lady next door showed it to them the minute they pulled into the driveway." She took a much needed deep breath and continued rambling. "Anyways," she said, shaking her head. "Guess who's staying with them?"

"Who?"

"Guess?" I let out a sigh of annoyance. After all of the events of the past few days, the guessing game was not something I wanted to play with my cousin. I gave her an aggravated look.

"Cynthia, I don't want to. Just tell me already--who's staying with them?"

"Natalie." My head snapped up at the mention of my sister. What the hell was she doing at Cynthia's parents house?

"What?!" I exclaimed, completely shocked. She was the last person in the world whose name I expected to hear. "Why?"

Cynthia shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know...I didn't get to talk to mom for long because she was babbling about the long distance carrier or something. Anyway, I guess your mother shipped Nat off to my house once she found out they were back home." She shrugged again. "That's all she told me and then she had to go."

I felt like my head was spinning. What the hell was going on with my mother now? I looked back up at Cynthia, who gave me a sympathetic smile. "I'm going now, Stevie--maybe you should call up my house and talk to her." I nodded as Cynthia and Josh left the room. I leaned back on the bed and I could tell that out of the corner of my eye, Lance was watching me. I turned to look at him and saw an expression of concern on his face as he stared at me.

"You okay?" he asked, softly rubbing his fingers over my knuckles. "You're kind of pale." I shook my head at him, and stared at the television screen flickering in front of us.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but I want to know why my mom sent Natalie to Cynthia's house...I just don't get what my mom is doing." I looked back at Lance. "You know, you're really lucky...your mom was so great. She was easy to talk to..." I trailed off as Lance shifted closer to me on the bed and hooked one of his legs over mine.

"And I think she liked you...a lot," he said, grinning at me. He reached up and played with my hair and I could tell he was thinking of the hug that happened between his mother and I before she left. "That's a plus."

"Definitely," I agreed, giving Lance a smile. "But it made me wonder why your mom was so calm when you told her, while my mom flew off the handle." Both Lance and I were at a loss for words at thinking of the woman who had given birth to me. Lance cleared his throat and the expression on his face changed slightly.

"Does your mom have anything to do with those attacks you get?" Lance asked quietly, intertwining his fingers with mine. I sat there, thinking...I wasn't sure if I wanted to burden Lance with more of my problems...but he had to find out about them sooner or later. I didn't want to have another screaming attack and then have Lance worry about me, because he didn't know what was going on.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked him. He nodded and gripped my hand tighter. I sighed.

"I've wanted to know about them since they happened," Lance said softly, looking at me with concern in his green eyes.

"Okay...well, if you haven't guessed...they started after my father died. It was around midnight...my father was supposed to come home around two that morning. You know how in the hospital I told you about that premonition I had?" I asked Lance, my voice dropping.

"Yeah...you told him not to go to work," he said carefully, not wanting to say anymore.

"Uh-huh. Well, I was up late the night when the phone started ringing. I heard my mother answer it and then she just started screaming." My eyes were focused on the patchwork pattern of the comforter as I related the story to Lance. The details were fresh in my mind as I spoke, and it seemed like it had only happened yesterday.

"Well, I ran downstairs and my mom was on the floor, crying her eyes out. I asked her what had happened and she told me that my father had been shot. It was at a liquor store hold up--my father and his partner came and there was a huge standoff and the guy who held up the store, shot my father three times. In the shoulder, the chest and the leg." I heard Lance gasp at my words, but I didn't acknowledge it. It was only the second time in my life that I had spoken about the whole incident and I hoped that it would be the last. I continued on, despite the feelings of dread that were circling inside of me.

"At that time, Cynthia and her parents were still living down the street from us at the time, so they came over once they found out." I let out a bitter laugh. "I can still remember Cynthia not knowing what was going on...they had waken her and her brother up and dragged them over...anyways, in all of that pandemonium, no one noticed that Natalie had disappeared."

"She disappeared?" Lance asked in surprise. I nodded and kept rambling on. As much as I hated talking about it, it felt good to finally tell someone besides the psychiatrist that I was ordered to see after the funeral.

"Yeah...we spent the whole night looking for that girl. She was only two--two and a half at the time, so we were worried beyond belief. Especially me--for some reason, I kept thinking of Natalie as the only link I had to my father. And so I thought she was gone."

"But you must have found her," Lance said with a gentle smile on his lips, as he lifted his arm and stroked the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes at his touch, which had jerked me back into reality for a moment.

"Yeah, they finally found her the next morning--she was under the bed in my parents room the entire time we were looking for her. Natalie had somehow gotten herself out of the bed and out of her safety straps that kept her in the bed and walked over to my parents bedroom. My uncle found her the next morning holding onto the pillow that belonged to belonged to my father." I shook my head, and wiped the tears away that had formed in the corner of my eyes. "We never told her that her father died then, but I think she knew," I added with a sad smile.

Lance reached up and wiped the tears from my face and pressed himself a bit closer to me. "So I'm presuming that when you yelled Natalie's name that one morning, it was connected to that night when she disappeared?"

"Very good," I said, leaning over to kiss Lance on his forehead. "I keep having this dream that she disappears and no one can find her. And when I wake up, I start yelling her name and start looking for her. I used to have them almost every night after my father died. Hence--" I said, giving Lance a wry look. "---the pills that Cynthia told you about. They stop anxiety attacks almost on the spot. Sometimes, I used to get a little crazy. What you saw the other morning was pretty tame. Usually I start running around and screaming at people. Once I ran out on the street and started yelling--I don't know what I'm doing when they happen."

Lance's eyes grew wide. "You're kidding me. No wonders Cynthia insisted that you take those pills. That's not something you joke around with," he said with obvious worry. "That's serious."

I smiled at him, surprised by the protective nature his voice had taken on just then. I didn't want him worrying about me, so I just brushed off his comment. "Don't worry--that one I had the other morning was the first one I've had in ages. That's why I didn't bring my pills with me--I didn't think I'd need `em. Plus, they taste pretty nasty going down," I told him, making a horrible face causing Lance to laugh at my expression.

"Pretty cute," he quipped while moving closer to me. "But seriously, that's some pretty heavy stuff you have going on there...part of me wants to slap you for not telling me when it happened, but part of me also knows that it took a lot for you to tell me," Lance said, looking down at our hands entwined together. When he looked back up at me, he had a beautiful smile on his face. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Yeah, burdening you with more problems," I said dryly, leaning my head on Lance's shoulder.

"I hardly think of it that way," he remarked and I looked up at him. He was looking at me with love in his eyes--no one had ever looked at me like that before, I thought in amazement. "I'm just glad that you trusted me enough to tell me."

Just then, I felt something in my heart snap as I instinctively moved my lips to meet his in a kiss. Like so many other times before, I asked myself, how had I been so lucky to have wound up with this wonderful man next to me? What had I done to deserve him? My thoughts and our kiss were interrupted by the noisy rumbling of my stomach.

Upon hearing it, Lance looked at me in surprise ."Boy, you know how to ruin a moment," he teased me, as he poked my stomach with a finger. I shrugged helplessly at him.

"Hey, I'm hungry--I can't help it," I said with a laugh. "I haven't eaten all day."

And as if on cue, Lance's stomach suddenly rumbled, rivaling the loudness of mine. "Whoops," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I guess I'm a little hungry too."

"A little hungry?" I asked in amazement. "Lance, that probably measured a nine on the Richter scale. I'm surprised that this whole building didn't fall down and that the streets aren't in ruins."

"Thanks a lot, Stephen," Lance said. He attempted to give me a hurt look, which was immediately ruined as he broke out into uncontrollable laughter. "Come on," he said, with a mischievous grin as he picked up the phone next to him, "Let's run up a huge room service bill."

Pizza and strawberry wine--not a good combination, but that was what Lance and I ordered for our dinner. He looked at me strangely when I requested the wine, but he ordered it anyways with no questions asked. While we waited for our food, I picked up the television remote and flipped through the channels until I found an repeat showing of The Breakfast Club, which to my enjoyment, some cable channel is always playing. I have that strange penchant for older movies, and this one was no exception. Lance noticed what I was watching and smiled, but didn't say a word as I became completely engrossed in the movie, so engrossed, I didn't even notice the knock against the door signaling that our food had arrived. Lance got up, answered the door and came back to the bed with a large tray that housed a pepperoni pizza, a bottle of strawberry wine, plus two elegant glasses and some plates and utensils.

"Dig in," Lance said, with a smile as he set the tray on a table in front of the bed. He grabbed for the bottle of wine and began to open it (despite his hurt arm), while I placed slices of pizza on two plates--one for him and one for me.

"Really, there is no difference between this pizza and the one you can get back at home," I said as I bit hungrily into a slice of pizza and promptly burnt my tongue on a section of cheese.

Lance laughed as I fanned off my tongue and continued removing the wrapping from the top of the bottle. "Why'd you order this?" he asked curiously, as he opened the bottle and poured some of the wine into one of the fancy crystal glasses and handed it to me. I took a huge sip of it, cooling off my mouth in the process.

"Because I used to drink it," I said matter-of-factly. "And I haven't had it for awhile."

Lance looked at me, while pouring himself a glass. "You're not a recovering alcoholic, are you?" he asked attempting to sound as though he was joking, yet, a worried look still remained on his face. I smiled at his ever-present concern for me as shook my head as I attempted to take another bite of pizza.

"Nope...just something I used to drink all the time," I said as I diverted my attention back to the television and continued to watch the movie. On screen, the Molly Ringwald character was bitching about something or other and I immediately thought of my cousin. Obliviously, I began to smile and Lance noticed.

"What's so funny?" he asked me, as I polished off my glass of wine. He looked at me a but skeptically at my quick consumption of the liquid, but poured me another glass anyways.

"Nothing--well, if you want to know, I was thinking of Cynthia," I explained. "My cousin used to look like Molly Ringwald when she was in high school. She's a natural redhead and her hair used to be cut exactly the same and everything." I looked down at the glass in my hand and then shook my head. "Actually, we're lucky Cynthia's not here right now...she'd drink the whole bottle of this stuff and then order two more. She was quite the party girl in high school," I reminisced, as I stretched out on the bed.

"Somehow, that's not much of a surprise," Lance said, rolling his eyes as he poured himself a second glass of wine. "Your cousin does not strike me as the demure innocent type. Especially when drunk. She reminds me more of the `dance-naked-on-the-bar type.'"

I laughed at his keen observation. "You pegged her pretty good...Cynthia gets kinda nasty when she's drunk though," I warned him. "She argues, she hits, in fact..." I picked up my knee and rolled up my pant leg, exposing a scar on my right calf. "She threw a stiletto heel at me once when she was completely wasted and I had to be taken to the hospital for stitches." I moved onto the bed, so that I could rest my back against the headboard. Lance looked at me and then moved himself next to me.

"Maybe you should have told Josh that before they went out," Lance laughed, leaning himself against the numerous fluffy pillows, so that he could watch the television. We ate our dinner for a few more seconds and then Lance looked up at me.

"So what were you like in high school?" he asked me, an inquisitive look on his handsome face. I let out a groan and he laughed. "What? Was it that bad for you?"

I nodded and pointed my finger at the television. "I was..." I trailed off waiting for the Alison character to come back on the screen and when she did, I yelled out, "HER!" Lance stared at me with a `what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about' look on his face. Maybe alcohol affected his understanding differently, or maybe I wasn't clear enough in my explanation, but what happened next was one of the funniest moments I had ever had with Lance.

"You were a girl?" he asked trying to control his shocked, confused expression. At first, I thought he was joking, but as I stared at him for a few seconds, there was no change in his expression. I continued studying his face before bursting out into laughter. I absolutely loved the way he looked and once again, I wished I had a camera on me...it was priceless, absolutely priceless.

"No silly," I said after my fit of laughter had died down. "I meant that I was like the character, not that I was a girl."

"So you wore skirts and carried around a huge bag full of crap and wore black eye make-up?" Lance asked, even more confused than before. I stared at him in amazement.

"I can't believe I'm dating you," I said in mock disbelief. "You are shitting with me, right?" Lance shook his head slowly and I bit my lip back to hold in my laughter. "Lance, what am I gonna do with you?" I put my glass on the table next to the bed, and then took one of Lance's hands in my own.

"Lance, honey...I meant I was extremely introverted...not that I was a wore makeup or a dress..I was just quiet..like the girl in the movie." A slow smile spread across Lance's face as the realization of my words hit him. His face turned bright red with embarrassment as he placed a hand over his mouth.

"Oh dear," he said, covering his eyes as he began to laugh, despite himself. "How stupid--I mean, I knew that...I was just testing you to see if you knew what I was talking about." Lance said defensively.

"Oh you are so full of it," I laughed. "'Testing me'--yeah, right. You should have seen your expression when you thought I was a girl." I rolled my eyes. "I am not that naive, Lance."

"Okay, okay...so I didn't get it..sue me," he said, the blush fading from his face. I leaned over and took the glass from him.

"No more of this for you," I said sternly. "None. You can't handle your alcohol." Lance looked at me indigently.

"Yes, I can," He said, reaching over towards me for the glass which I held away from him.

"No you can't," I said teasingly. "You thought I wore skirts and makeup. I can never forgive you for that." Lance leaned over further and planted a soft, but passionate kiss on my lips, which I eagerly responded to.

"How about now?" he asked huskily, as he hooked one of his legs over mine. Lance reached down for the remote and hit the power button on it. The room was now dead quiet, except for the sound of Lance's breath next to my ear.

"I don't know," I said, giving him a alluring smile as I drew him closer to me, careful not to hit his injured arm. "Why don't you try to convince me more and then maybe I'll forgive you."

Lance grinned at my offer and kissed me once again and again--each kiss growing more and more intense until his body was on top of mine. His good hand had slid up my shirt and gently stroked my skin, while his lower half of his body began to grind against mine.

"Forgive me yet?" Lance asked seductively as his hand began to move downwards, towards the buckle on my pants. He brushed his hand against the lower sections of my body, grinning as his fingers hit a particularly aroused part of my body. "From the feel of things, I say you do."

"Shut up," I whispered as I ran my fingers through his thick blonde hair. I stared into his pale green eyes for a few seconds, mesmerized by the intensity of the feelings that were swimming around inside of me. And since no words could convey the feelings that I felt, I let my mouth meet his once more, praying that he knew what I wanted. And needless to say, it worked.

A few hours later, Lance laid in my arms, fast asleep. I enjoyed the way his body felt against mine, and I let out a quiet sigh, as not to wake him up. I couldn't sleep...my heart was racing and my mind was working overtime. I stared at my boyfriend, whose peaceful expression made my heart melt. I was amazed at the idea that one person could bring me so much happiness and how that affected me in my day-to- day existence. It wasn't just the physical or sexual aspects that had drawn me to him upon our first meeting (though I'd be lying if I said that wasn't part of it), it was something else. And as we moved along further in our relationship, I found that there was more and more about him that I fell in love with. He cared about me, he worried about me...for a brief second, I thought that I had grown overly dependent on him, but I shook those unpleasant thoughts off. I looked back down at him as he stirred gently in my arms and I let out another content sigh, as he pressed himself closer to my body.

Suddenly my peaceful state was rudely interrupted by a hideous female shriek. "You fucking bastard--don't you dare come near me!" I noticed that the person's words were slightly slurred. There was a pause and then I heard a male voice echoing through the hallway, just as loud as the first one had been.

"Cynthia--please...I didn't know better..come on..." the person pleaded. I closed my eyes as my ears automatically recognized the voices as belonging to my wonderful cousin and Josh. Still, I stayed where I was--it would take an awful lot more than that to move me from my comfy position on the bed.

"Don't you dare come near me," I heard my cousin scream. "Josh, I am warning you...take one more step near me and I'll..." I eagerly waited to hear what the rest of her sentence would bring, only to hear a loud, painful groan that left Josh's mouth followed by a loud thump onto the floor.

I let out another sigh, instead it wasn't one of happiness. I knew something bad had happened out in the hallway, mainly because the hallway had grown excruatingly quiet. I looked down at Lance, who was staring up at me half-asleep, half-awake.

"What's going on?" Lance asked groggily, as he blinked his eyes a few times. I unwillingly disengaged him from my arms, and sat up.

"Remember what we said before, about warning Josh about Cynthia's temper when she's had one too many? Well, I think we're a little late," I predicted, as I stood up and pulled on my boxer shorts. I walked to the door and opened it, to find Josh doubled over right in our doorway. He looked up at me, pain clearly showing on his handsome face.

"Stephen," he managed to squeak out, as he held onto a more sensitive part of his body. "Cynthia---is she a psychopath?" I tried to hide my laughter, as I put on my most concerned expression.

"No, but...how many drinks did she have?" I questioned, leaning against the doorway, looking down at Josh, who seemed to have one too many drinks himself.

"I don't know...four, five..possibly six. I wasn't watching her alcohol intake, you know," he said a bit snippily, as he attempted to stand up. I heard footsteps behind me, and turned around to see that Lance had gotten up.

"What's going on?" he asked, scratching his head and yawning. "Why's Josh on the floor?"

"His cousin...punched me...here," Josh said, still wincing in pain as he looked below his belt. His expression changed as he took in the sight of Lance standing in back of me. "But I must say, I think I know why you wanted to stay in tonight, Scoop," he managed to comment wryly, with a smirk. I turned my head only to see that my boyfriend had forgotten that he was naked and had chosen to come to the door in that state. Lance looked down at himself and his face turned bright red as he realized this. He rushed back to the bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Josh let out a laugh at his bandmates forgetfulness, before he once again cringed in agony as the pain hit him once more. "Look, I'm going to my room--" he began before the door to Cynthia's room swung open and she appeared, clearly intoxicated. There were huge black mascara smudges under her eyes, and she could barely stand up as walked over to us. But she made it and met me nose to nose.

"Stephen!" Cynthia yelled directly into my face. I caught a strong whiff of vodka on her breath as she screamed at me and I fanned my hands in front of my face to wave the smell away.

"God, Cynth-what the hell did you do? Drink the entire club out of all it's booze?" I asked, catching her in my arms as she began to tip over.

"Shut up, Stevie," she snapped as she attempted to stand up on her own two feet. "I've had it...I want to go home. I'm sick of him--" she pointed to Josh, who stared at her in shock. "Do you know what that pig did? He was making out with some slutty chick in the club when I went off to dance with Joey. " Cynthia looked at him, spite forming on her pretty face as she reached out and slapped him at full force across his face.

"Hey, you crazy bit--" Josh began to yell, just as I signaled him to shut his mouth.

"Do you want to die tonight?" I screamed at him. I struggled to hold Cynthia's arms behind her, as she was ready to take the boy down. "Never call her that! Never!"

"Stevie," Cynthia said, beginning to cry as she suddenly fell limp in my arms. "I want to go home. I'm sick of this life...I'm sick of always being on the move, I'm sick of all this crap lately and I'm especially sick of Justin hiding the fact that he has a boyfriend. Do you know how miserable Harris looked tonight when Justin kept dancing with girls and not with him? I wanted to slap the shit out of that curly haired idiot all night."

I stared at my cousin in shock once the words left her mouth. Josh did a double take as her incriminating words hit his ears. "What did you just say?" Josh asked her, grabbing her by the shoulders. I realized that Cynthia, my dear cousin, had just managed to leak out the secret that Justin wanted no one to know. And no one was unhappier than the keeper of the secret himself, who just happened to round the corner as the accusation echoed throughout the hallway. Britney and Harris were right behind him as well, and all three of their mouths fell open as we all realized that Justin's secret was out in the open.

Chapter 27

"What the hell is going on?" Justin screamed as he ran over and grabbed my cousin from Josh's arms. "I knew you couldn't keep your mouth shut, I knew it!" He began shaking her by the shoulders, and Cynthia, who was beginning to sober up fast, found that she couldn't speak.

I looked over at Britney and Harris, who to my surprise, both had slightly relieved looks on their faces. Britney looked over at me and gave me a sad smile. I nodded back at her, and I knew we were both thinking, `Thank God it's finally out'. But try telling that to Justin, who was still screaming at my poor, not-quite-all-there cousin, who was now crying like a mad woman.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized over and over as Justin kept yelling at her. Finally, Josh intervened and pushed Justin against the wall. "Stop it Justin--leave her alone already," he ordered his friend, as he placed a comforting arm around Cynthia's shoulders. Then he looked up at Justin and then at Harris. "Is that true--what she said? You two are a couple, too?" Justin and Harris slowly looked at each other and then looked back at Josh, nodding.

"Yeah," Justin finally answered, his voice a low whisper. He knew that he couldn't lie--not in front of Harris. Even that would be too much. "We are--Harris and I. He's not with Britney--he's with me. You were never supposed to find out about us, Josh." He shot my cousin a dirty look, and repeated, "Never."

"Why the hell not? Justin, you're one of my best friends--I don't care if you're straight, gay...whatever. Lance told us he was and none of us cared," Josh said, looking at the curly haired singer in disbelief. Then as if the hallway wasn't enough of a madhouse already, Chris and Joey both appeared as the elevator doors opened. And by the looks on their faces, they had heard Josh's last words.

"Oh great, which of us is gay now?" Joey quipped as he and Chris joined us. Justin looked at all of us in disbelief, partly shocked by how casually we were all taking the news. "Is it Justin? `Cause I had him pegged all along too...just like Scoop."

All six of our heads swiveled in unison as we stared at Joey's somewhat hasty remark. He looked at us. "What? What did I say?" he asked, confused why twelve pairs of eyes were all staring at him as though we wanted him to drop dead.

"Is there anyone in this group you don't suspect is gay, Joey?" Chris asked, slapping him upside the head. "Geez, can't you be a little more sensitive sometimes?" Joey looked at him like he was the one who had gone nuts.

"What? So what if Justin is gay--how many times do I have to say it--I don't care if anyone in this group is gay. And let me guess, this guy," Joey presumed, turning to Harris, "Is not Britney's man, he's Justin's, right?" The looks of hate, now turned to ones of amazement as Joey continued on with his assessment of the situation that had developed in front of him. "I could tell--you two were making goo-goo eyes at each other during lunch. Plus, he dresses way too nice to be straight," Joey concluded with a self-satisfied smirk as he turned away from us and headed towards his room. "Now, I'm going to bed--and if any of you people keep me up, there'll be trouble for all of you tomorrow morning." He headed off to his room and disappeared.

Chris was the next one to leave, but not before he gave Justin a quick hug. "I don't care man...whatever makes you happy," he said, giving him a tired smile. "I'm just glad that you found someone," he added, smiling at Harris. "Night, everyone," he called off before disappearing into the room. I stood there from my spot in the doorway, shaking my head at Britney, who walked over to me, while Josh, Justin and Harris began talking. Cynthia, I should add, had passed out cold on the floor.

"So were we all taking this way too seriously?" Britney asked me with a laugh.

"I don't know...maybe. I should have learned my lesson when Lance told the guys the same thing. They didn't care either--Justin was the only one who acted a little weird, but..." I trailed off, as I looked over at Justin and Harris, who were now hand in hand, huge grins plastered on their faces. "But we know why he was acting weird."

"I took it way too seriously too," Britney admitted sheepishly as we continued to watch the guys. Just then Harris noticed that we were watching him, and walked over to us.

"I don't think I had a chance to say hello," Harris laughed gently, while giving me a friendly smile. He was rather attractive--curly brown hair with what appeared to be reddish blonde highlights sprinkled throughout, aqua eyes --and was decked out in expensive designer clothes.

"Ah, you're talking about the parking lot," I laughed, extending my hand out to him, which he shook in return.

Harris nodded. "Yup...you're Stephen, right?" he asked a bit uncertainly.

"Yes, and the lush down here is my cousin Cynthia," I said remorsefully, as I leaned in to make sure Cynth was still breathing (she was). Harris laughed as he looked down at my slumped- over cousin.

"Ah, yes--the girl who tapped on my window," he reminisced fondly. "She has great style," he observed as he examined her baby pink minidress and silver platform shoes.

"Trust me, she has much more style when she's not passed out," I told him with a sigh. Just then Justin came up to us and tapped Harris on the shoulder.

"Hey, I'm gonna hit the hay," Justin said, a wide grin spreading on his face. "Care to join me?" Harris looked at me apologetically.

"Hey, Stephen. I hate to cut this short, but.." he trailed off, looking over at Justin who was already heading down the hallway. I laughed.

"It's perfectly understandable," I smiled, as I gave Harris a push on the shoulder. He seems nice, I thought with satisfaction as I watched him chase after Justin. I turned back to Britney, who was watching them with a forlorn look on her face.

"Another two guys...gone," she sighed, looking at me. "Then there's you and Lance...Chris has that girlfriend...Josh, you have Cynthia...that leaves..."

Josh and I looked at each other, and laughed at the realization. "Joey!"we exclaimed in unison. Britney sighed and rolled her eyes at us.

"Yeah, thanks a lot you two--the one who's not my type," she laughed, before Josh shook his head sadly at her.

"I don't think I have Cynth anymore," he said, letting out a heartbreaking sigh. Josh quickly explained what he had done to my cousin at the club and after listening to him, Britney promptly punched him in the arm.

"Jerk," she spat out. "You have a great girl here..." Her brown eyes trailed down to my cousin, who looked as though she had been just been through two world wars. "Um, maybe not now..but why'd you have to screw it up, Josh? Come on," Britney said to him as she walked over to Cynthia. "Let's take her back to her room and while were there, I'll give you a lecture on how to treat a woman the right way," I heard her say as they headed down the hallway. I watched them for a few seconds, before heading back into the dark room. I suddenly realized that Lance was the only one of us who wasn't involved in the hallway fiasco.

"Lance?" I called out, and saw him turn over in the bed so that he faced me. His green eyes seemed to glow at me in the moonlight as he moved the covers back so that there was a spot for me. As I slid in between the cotton sheets, I noticed that they were cool against my skin as I settled myself next to Lance.

"How come you weren't at the party?" I joked, as I felt Lance shift against my body. "Just because you didn't have any clothes on, didn't mean that you couldn't have put some on. I mean, I could have taken them off again once we were alone." I expected Lance to make some kind of debauched remark to match my own, but there was nothing...odd. Still, I let that slip, and just figured that he was too tired.

"Did you hear what happened out there?" I asked him as I wrapped an arm around him. I let my fingers slowly brush against his bruises as I felt him breathe. "Justin is gay." Dead silence. "Lance?" I asked him, a bit worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm up," he replied in a quiet voice. "And I heard what you said." A pause. "But," Lance began in a controlled voice, "what I really want to know is why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Huh?"

Lance shook my arms off his body, sat up and flipped on the light next to his side of the bed, all while staring at me with an accusing glare.

"I heard everything out there...I was right here, Stephen," Lance said, his face completely serious. "You knew that Justin was gay...why didn't you tell me when you found out?" I was dumbfounded by Lance's question...why didn't I tell him...could it be because Justin had sworn me to secrecy, and isn't the whole point of secrecy not to tell anyone?

"I...I promised Justin that I wouldn't," I said lamely, avoiding Lance's accusing gaze. "Cynthia and I both found out by accident and Justin was petrified to tell anyone else. Except for Britney, of course...he didn't want to come out until he was comfortable with the idea."

Lance laughed bitterly, as his eyes diverted from mine to a window."Well he sure picked a hell of a time to come out." He looked back at me, the hurt feelings clearly apparent in his eyes. "I can't believe you, Stephen. Even Cynthia knew..." he trailed off as he moved away from me.

"Lance...I'm sorry."

"Didn't you think you could have trusted me?" he asked, placing a hand to his chest. "I'm your boyfriend...I thought we could trust each other. Don't you think I could have helped Justin out here? I'm practically in the same predicament that he is..." Lance shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you.

"I'm sorry, okay?!" I burst out angrily. "I thought I was doing something nice for Justin. He trusted me with not telling everyone and I didn't want to go back on it. If there's anyone you should be yelling at, it's Justin for being such a dick about the whole thing," I told Lance, my eyes flashing with frustration.

"I'm not in love with Justin, I'm not dating Justin..I'm in love with you...I..." Lance argued before sinking back into the pillows. "I guess what bothers me the most is that I feel like you shut me out. I didn't think we had any secrets from each other."

Lance had a wonderful way of making me feel guilty--so guilty, in fact, I was surprised that I hadn't shrunk down to a two inch version of myself. "Look Lance, I was damned if I told you and I was damned if I didn't. I'd hurt someone in the process--and it wound up being you. Don't you think I struggled with the idea of telling you? Do you think I enjoyed keeping that secret from you."

It took Lance a few seconds to take my explanation in. "I never said you liked keeping it from me..." he said with a small smile. Once I saw that, I felt a tiny bit better...not a lot, but a little, because that smile signaled to me that he wasn't completely furious with me.

"In a way," Lance suddenly spoke up. "I like the fact that you kept Justin's secret...but not from me." He let out a sigh. "I guess I can see your point..."

I let out a sigh of relief, but I still didn't feel one hundred percent better. "I promise--next time, anything happens..I'll tell you. Right away," I said quickly, as I picked up his hand and placed it next to my heart. Still, to my ears, there was something foreboding about those words. I brushed that off as my attention shifted to Lance, who's face had lit up once his hand touched my skin. He moved back next to me, and leaned his head on my shoulder. I guess I had said the right thing, I thought with a smile.

"Promise?" Lance whispered, looking up at me. His green eyes were hopeful as he stared into mine as he eagerly waited for my answer. It didn't take me long to decide.

"Promise," I said, smiling as I moved my lips towards Lance's and sealed my promise with a passionate kiss.

Well, that's it--for now. I'll try to get the new installment out as soon as I can (but no promises!) Thanks for reading! Love, Gabriella