Hi everyone!
Well...I have a few things to start out with. First off a huge thank you to everyone who sent me e-mail after the last chapter...any feelings of discouragement have been erased and I was so encouraged by the response, that I've put out another chapter much earlier than I expected....
Second, this chapter marks the first chapter in the second part of the story, which I explained in the previous installment as well. I'm not gonna explain a lot about why I chose to this...it will all be evident as the chapters go on...anyways, any feedback is definitely welcomed with open arms at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com...Please write me and tell me what you think of this chapter or anything else. I love e-mail...I really do.
And third, a big bunch of thank you's here: Matt, Clarke, Cele (thank you for all of the encouragement!), Khiem, John (I should be home in time for tea, sweetie grin), and Justin, for reading this over and telling me if it was too hokey or not...thank you so much.
And lastly, before I shut up and get to the story, I'm being a total self-promotion hussy here, and as some of you know, I've jumped into the website fray and started my own webpage. It not only has MSR on it, but a whole bunch of other junk on it as well. There are also three separate biographies on the characters in the story, as well as pictures of them... here's the address if your interested:
http://sweetheart.homepage.com
DISCLAIMER: If you don't know this already, then where have you been? This story involves a m/m relationship, and is not meant to imply the sexuality of `N Sync or Lance Bass...um, you have to be 18 or 21 to read this. If you aren't I don't want to know...and now on with the story.
My Surprise Romance
Part 2: The Better to Dream of You
Chapter 32
So maybe everything had been a little crazy, but for God's sake, I was on tour with `N Sync...'N Sync. Think about that. When I had gotten out of school that possibility had never even crossed my mind. I thought I was going to spend my summer vacation in the sweltering hot kitchen of the Manor Lanes Retirement home, hunched over a sinkful of dirty dishes and smelling like a big vanilla Ensure shake. I was wrong.
Instead I was on tour with what had to be the world biggest pop band, doing practically nothing and I was getting paid for it. And to make my life even better, I had a boyfriend. Me. Stephen Peterson. In love. It was phenomenal...unbelievable. And it was even more wonderful to have those feelings returned by none other than Lance Bass, who had to be the most wonderful person that I had met in my entire 21 years.
But enough blabbering to myself, I thought as I lay in bed, staring at the white ceiling. It was late in the afternoon and we had resided back to the hotel after a large lunch to rest before that's night concert. This was our second to last day in Los Angeles and we would finally be leaving tomorrow night. To be honest with you, I really didn't miss the hectic life of rushing off to some other city every day. L.A. had become like a new home to me. So had the hotel room that Lance and I shared.
Speaking of Lance, he was curled up in a fetal position next to me. He was snoring quietly, and occasionally mumbling something under his breath. I knew that he had to be dreaming, and I couldn't help but smile as I wondered what was going on in that mind of his. I shifted myself gently, careful not to wake him up as I pulled myself off the comfy bed and walked over to the window.
The view from where I was standing was splendorous. I could practically see over the entire city...the numerous buildings, the hectic traffic...it was breathtaking. I stood there in awe for few more seconds, letting my eyes take in the sight before me.. And suddenly, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist. I jerked in surprise at the feel of Lance's arms around my body, while turning my head backwards to give him a grin.
"Scared me," I laughed as I kissed him on the nose. A smile flashed on his face as I did this. "Did I wake you up?" I asked apologetically as he rested his chin on my shoulder.
"Nah...I was just dozing...so what's my Stephen thinking about?" Lance whispered in my ear as he continued to look out over the city with me. I closed my eyes for a brief second, enjoying the way we were standing together, before answering him.
"Nothing, I guess." I sighed as I felt his lips softly brush against my neck. "Well, now I am." Lance looked up at me and grinned.
"See? What would you do without me?" he murmured while nuzzling my earlobe. "Hey, do you know what day today is?"
I stood there, my mind drawing a complete blank. I knew that tomorrow was Cynthia's birthday and that Josh had huge plans for it. But he sworn us to secrecy because he desperately wanted to surprise her. And I knew that today was our second to last day in L.A., but nothing else important crossed my mind.
"What?" I finally asked after a few seconds had passed. "What day is today?"
Lance just rolled his eyes and pushed me away from him in mock disgust. "Yeesh, forget it. I can't believe you, Stephen. I thought you were smarter than that!" Lance laughed as he walked away from me and back towards the bed. Before he sat down on it, he knelt down and pulled his suitcase from underneath. I watched him curiously as he unzipped his luggage and pulled out a black, hardcovered notebook. As he sat on the bed, Lance flipped the book open to a dogeared page and then looked up at me.
"Well, are you gonna stand there all afternoon, or do you need a special invitation?" Lance asked me impatiently while patting the empty space next to him. I took that as my cue to sit.
"Well, what? What day is today...you never answered my question," I protested, as Lance showed me the page in his notebook.
"This is my diary," he said, blushing slightly. "I don't really write a lot in here, but I write in it when something important happens to me." Lance took a deep breath as though to calm down his nerves and then continued on. "Stephen, look at the date. That's the date we first met." He pointed to the top of the page he had opened to and I peered at it. A date was scribbled at the top of the page: "June 4--3:56 a.m".
"Yeah?" I asked, still not understanding what he was trying to get at or what the date meant.
Lance rolled his green eyes once more at me and let out a sigh of disgust. "Silly boy," he said, wrapping an arm around me. "Today is July fourth. And it just doesn't mean Independence Day. Don't you know what that date means?"
And like someone had finally flipped the switch on in my head, I got what Lance was trying to get at. And I felt like an idiot. "Oh my God! One month?" I exclaimed, clapping a hand over my mouth. Lance just nodded happily.
"Finally! You were starting to worry me there!" he exclaimed as he snapped his diary shut. I raised my eyebrows at him.
"Don't I get to read it?" I grinned, nodding towards the notebook that he was hurriedly slipping back into his suitcase. While he did this, Lance looked up at me with an embarrassed grin on his face.
"Well, if I let you read it, it wouldn't be a private diary, would it?" Lance asked sensibly, and dismissed the matter by shoving the suitcase back under the bed. "Anyways," he began, diverting the attention from his diary back to the original matter. "We've been together one month....one month, " Lance shook his head at the words that left his mouth, looking completely bowled over by the fact. And I had to admit, thinking that we had been together made me feel the same way. It was amazing.
"It doesn't seem like it," I said as a funny thought crossed my mind. "One month..oh forget it, it's time for me to get a new boyfriend." Lance laughed at that remark and shot me a hurt look.
"One month? That's all I'm good for?"
"Well," I said, reaching over and lifting the tag on the back of his shirt. "Looks like your expiration date is up, so yeah...it's time for me to move on," I joked. Lance stood up then and for a second, I thought he was mad at my comment. The soft smile that appeared on his lips erased any thoughts of this, as he looked down at me.
"You...it almost makes me not want to give you this..." Lance trailed off, as he walked over to the closet. He opened the door up and pulled out a moderately sized, yet neatly wrapped package. My stomach dropped straight to the floor. He had gotten me something? And I didn't get him anything? Hell, I didn't even know it was our one month anniversary.
Lance looked at me and must have noticed the look of dismay on my face. "Don't worry Stephen," he said, sitting back down next to me. "I just thought I'd get you something..." He looked at me with a stern expression on his face as he noticed mine. "You're worrying...I can tell...stop worrying already."
I let out a laugh at his perceptiveness. "You know me way too well, sweetie," I said, as Lance handed me the gift. I looked at him a little oddly. "What is this?"
"Well, open it up and see already," Lance said impatiently. Without any further hesitation, I tore the paper off the gift and nearly died right on the spot as I held the objects in my hands.
"Holy crap," I managed to utter as I looked at the sketch pad and extensive set of pencils (both graphite and colored) that Lance had purchased for me. I stared at the gifts in shock, not sure what words to say.
"Well? What do you think?" Lance asked simply, clearly enjoying the look of surprise on my face. He had managed to render me completely speechless and he knew it. The questions began to swirl around in my mind. Why would he go out and buy me something like this? Even as an anniversary present...
"How did you know?" I asked him when I finally regained the power to speak. "I mean, that I wanted stuff like this."
"You really have a shitty memory don't you? Don't you remember the other night when we sneaked onto that beach?" Lance asked, shifting his weight towards me, leaning his body against mine. "When we were looking out onto the ocean?'
"Yeah," I said as I jogged my memory back to the night he spoke about. "I'm not recalling anything."
"Well you said something about wanting to draw...you wish you had your stuff with you so you could draw. And Stephen, you looked so sad when you said that..."
"I did?" I asked and I realized that I sounded like a complete moron. "Really?" Lance laughed.
"Yes. Really. And I know how it is when you can't do something that you love to do...so I thought I'd go out to some art store and pick you up a few things..." Lance shook his head. "No biggie."
"Yes it is," I protested, as I continued to stare at the art supplies in my hands. "But thank you so much...these cost a fortune...I could never afford them for myself. Are you insane?" Another laugh escaped his lips.
"Stephen...I can afford it. Think about what I do for a living..." Lance said, looking into my eyes. "And money is no object when it comes to you. But, to answer your question, yes I think I am insane."
"How come?"
"Well, look who I'm dating," Lance said dryly, pretending to look disgusted. As I turned to gape at him, I found Lance grinning like a Cheshire cat. He knew he had gotten my goat and more than expected it when I threw myself on top of him, and began to wrestle him around on the bed (I had laid the pencils neatly down on the floor before doing this, so that the lead wouldn't break in them). As we rolled around, I couldn't help but think that Lance had said that purposely just so that I would do this.
After a few seconds of wrestling each other, Lance had pinned me down on the bed, and I think something quite interesting was about to happen between us (as it always did when we rolled around on the bed) when the door to our room flew open. And like so many times before, my cousin stood there in the doorway, a smirk plastered on her face as she saw Lance on top of me.
"You two don't ever stop do you? You'd put rabbits to shame," Cynthia laughed. Lance turned bright red at her remark, and rolled off of me, falling back onto the bed. Cynthia walked into the room and sat down on a chair right across from us. The sunlight that streamed in through the windows, hit the diamond studded pendant that lie around her neck, causing little dots of light to blink around the room.
"Don't stop on the account of me," Cynthia said, crossing her legs over each other. "I've never seen two boys go at it before...but I'm not sure if I want one of them to be my cousin." I let out a groan at her tasteless remark, while Lance shot her a dirty look. For certain reasons, I sat up, leaned over and folded my arms over my lap. I love my cousin but damn, did she ever pick a wrong time to waltz into our room.
"Oh yeah, right, trucker queen" Lance sputtered as he grabbed a pillow from behind him and nonchalantly placed it over his lap. "What do you want Cynthia?" She glared momentarily at what Lance had called her, before explaining what she had invaded our room for.
"Well, you know my birthday is tomorrow, right?" she asked, her face brightening at the mention of her birthday. I rolled my eyes--I couldn't help it. This happened every year...
"Cynthia..the whole hotel knows that your birthday is tomorrow," I said, recalling at how she had been dropping hints around us left and right. See, my cousin likes attention, but you probably know that already. She revels in it. And her birthday..well, I'm surprised she hadn't taken out full page ads in the newspaper to tell the world about tomorrow.
"I've done my job then" she said with a giggle as she pulled her knees up to her chest. "Well, you know what? Josh hasn't said one word about it...I mean not to sound pushy and demanding, but I kinda expected him to at least tell me what he had planned." Cynthia looked up at us with wide, innocent violet eyes. "Did he tell you two anything?"
Lance and I shook our heads like puppets, fully knowing what Josh had in store for her. In fact, he had consulted me and asked me the one thing that Cynthia truly loved doing. But I couldn't tell her...it would ruin everything and I definitely didn't want to be the spoiler. I looked at Lance with knowing eyes.
"Josh didn't say anything to me," I lied, trying not to grin. "Did he say anything to you, Lance?" Lance bit his lip to control the laughter that was about to escape.
"Nope...nothing...sorry Cynthia, looks like your birthday is gonna be spent doing absolutely nothing," Lance remarked lightly. She slit her eyes evilly at us once more and stood up.
"You two are sooo lying to me..Stevie, you're such a rotten liar." She pointed a finger at Lance. "And you're no better. No wonder you two like each other so much. You're both dirty, rotten, stinking liars!" she screamed at us through clenched teeth before stomping out of the room and slamming the door behind her. I counted to five before turning back to Lance and finally let loose with the laughter that I couldn't hold back anymore.
"She was so mad," I managed to gasp, tears forming in my eyes. When I looked up at Lance, I found that he was laughing just as hard as I was. Just then we both heard `thump' loud enough to knock the pictures off of the wall.
"I'm in the next room, jack asses!" we heard Cynthia scream. "And I can hear both of you laughing at me! Bastards!" This threat didn't shut us up, instead only making us laugh even harder. Tears began to stream down my face as I imagined my cousin ready to knock her fist through the wall. She despised it when I held something like this over her head, Finally our laughter subsided and when it did, Lance looked back at me.
"You know, Stephen, I love your cousin. I really do. I'm so glad that she came along with us." He grinned at this statement.
"Hey what about me?" I asked indigently, giving him an expectant look. Lance just smiled, before rolling his body on top of mine once more. "Aren't you glad that I came along?"
Lance stared down at me for a few seconds, stroking my hair away from my eyes as he started into them. I felt a chill run down my spine as he did this. I felt like he was looking straight into my soul. Time stood still for me. Nothing in this world seemed more perfect than Lance and I together...
"Well, I guess," he said with a grin. "But If I have to say that, then you don't know it." Lance stared into my eyes for another brief second before leaning down, planting another kiss on my lips and time stood still once more...
"Jesus," Cynthia muttered crankily as she propped her feet up on a makeshift card table. We were sitting backstage, in a little air conditioned room that was surrounded by bodyguards outside of it. When we had arrived, she had been kind of quiet in a pissy way, since everytime Lance and I looked at her, we would burst into giggles, knowing that it would drive Cynth insane. "Where the hell did you get that thing?" She asked irritably as she eyed my new sketch pad and the flat tin of graphite pencils that I had brought along with me to the concert.
"Lance bought it for me as a one month anniversary gift," I told her a bit defensively, as I picked up one of the pencils and held in it my hand. As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it almost immediately. `Why did you tell her that idiot?', I scolded myself. Now she would probably taut Lance and I for celebrating our one month anniversary. I looked at Cynthia with dread, but was met with one of her genuine smiles.
"That's great, Stevie," she said, her voice softening and she sounded like the old Cynthia once again. "That was really sweet of him." I stared at my cousin amazed by the way she could flip her personalities on and off like a light switch.
"Well...thanks," I said a bit awkwardly as I began to lightly run my pencil along the blank page in front of me. I wasn't sure what I was drawing, but ahh, did I ever feel back at home again...take me away from my art supplies and I wound up feeling like a half a person. I became so involved in drawing that I didn't even noticed the guys enter the room until Lance rested his chin on top of my head.
"Well, someone likes what I got him," I heard Lance say from above me. "Whatcha drawing?" I looked upwards, knocking his chin off my head and gave him a smile. Despite the fact that he had a grin on his face, I could tell that something was bothering him...I knew that he had received a phone call from home right before we left for the auditorium, but I never asked him what it was about. He had seemed awfully pensive ever since, but I didn't feel that it was my right to pry into his business. Lance would tell me in due time...
"Honestly? I have no idea..it just feels good to be drawing again," I said happily as I placed the pencil back into the tin. I stood up and looked at Lance, who was dressed in his stage clothes. I examined him critically.
"Who designs these things for you?" I asked Lance as I touched the fabric gingerly, as if it were poison. "You think with all the money you guys have, they could get you some decent outfits." Lance was just about to come back at me with some snappy retort, when Justin walked over to us. He had obviously been eavesdropping on our conversation.
"Yeah, Harris said the same thing," he said a bit absently, as he looked down at his own tacky clothing. I noticed that Justin seemed a bit out of it and I looked at him a suspiciously. That look could only mean one thing...
"Where's Harris?" I asked Justin, noting the melancholy look on his face.
"He's in Sacramento," Justin said quietly, examining his fingers. "He had to leave last night." It was obvious from the subdued way he was speaking, that Justin missed him like crazy. Changing the subject with an `ahem', Justin looked back down at his outfit. "Hey guys," he called out. "Why did we choose these outfits?"
"Because they're so ugly, they take away from how bad Scoop's dancing is!!!" Chris yelled out from the other side of the room while he and Joey were kicking around a hackeysack. I swung my head around to look at Lance, who had turned bright red at his friend's jest. Usually he could take the jokes about his dancing with a grain of salt, but this time it was different. A strange look passed over his face as he began to defend himself.
"I am not a bad dancer..." he said, sputtering. "I'm good...getting better." Everyone in the room gently laughed at his remarks as the subject dropped and they resumed their other conversations. Cynthia and Josh were sitting together, and I could tell by the expression on her face, that she was dying to ask him where he was planning on taking her for her birthday. Josh looked up at me just then and we smiled at each other. I'm surprised that Cynthia's head didn't blow up at our actions. When I looked back over at Lance, I found him staring at his feet, muttering something under his breath.
"You okay?" I asked him gently, as I began to lead him towards a corner of the room, so we could be alone. "Lance?" He looked up at me then and I was surprised to see his eyes flashing with anger.
"I am not a bad dancer," he said a bit angrily. "I practice just as hard as the other guys...so what if I'm not like Justin or Josh.." his voice trailed off.
I was more than a bit surprised to see him get this upset. Usually, he was so calm, collected...I was the one who was normally jumping off the deep end and Lance was the one who had to fish me out it. I placed my hands on his shoulders, and looked him directly into his green eyes.
"Lance, you're a great dancer...and you're great at other things as well," I added suggestively, which brought a smile to his face. "Don't worry about what Chris was saying, he was just fucking with you."
"I know," Lance said, heaving a sigh. "I don't know why I was so bothered by it, though. I guess it was just the way he said it..." Lance shook his head. "Oh well, thanks Stephen. Made me feel better."
"Hey, that's what I'm here for," I said, leaning over to place a quick kiss on his lips. His face lit up like a light at my romantic gesture.
"No, you aren't" Lance said once we parted. "You're here to...oh, nevermind," he grinned slyly, just as the door to the room swung open and Marshall poked his head in.
"Okay guys, five minutes to stage time...let's go!" he screamed at us before slamming the door shut. The guys let out a collective groan at their managers words but grudgingly began heading towards the door. Lance held me back, as the rest of the guys filed out of the room, so that we could be alone for a few seconds.
"You know," he said once it was just me and him as he slid his hands under the lapels of my shirt. "I ask myself everyday how I was lucky enough to meet you." He wrapped his arms around my waist and placed his head against my heart. I heard a small sigh escape his lips as he stayed put for a few seconds. I placed my hands on his back, holding him close to me. Our happiness was shattered as a rap on the door knocked us out of our little world.
"Lance, Stephen...we know what you two are doing in there! Quit snuggling and get out here already!" We heard Justin hiss through the door. Lance looked up at me with a grin on his face.
"Funny hearing that from someone who can barely keep his hands off his boyfriend in a public restaurant," Lance recalled drolly as we walked to the door hand in hand. Before we left the room, I pulled Lance close to me, taking him by surprise as I gave him a rather sloppy, yet lustful kiss. I just couldn't help myself.
"For luck," I said slyly, before adding, "I could lock you in here, you know." Lance grinned mischievously at my comment.
"Go right ahead," he said eagerly. "I'm all for it." I groaned at his remark, knowing full well that if it were possible, he would forget all about the concert and allow me to lock us in the room. And as appealing as the idea sounded at that moment, I opened the door and gave him a shove. He had a concert to do.
Later that night, after the concert was over and we had hit some trendy nightclub, Lance and I decided to head back to the hotel. I think Lance knew that I was a little uncomfortable in the noisy, wild club and he was cared enough about me to know that I wanted to just get out of there. That was what I loved about him, I thought as our cab weaved its way through the downtown traffic. However, Lance remained deathly quiet as we sat there.
"Did you see Cynthia? And Josh?" I asked my boyfriend, who was staring absently out the window. He turned to me with a jolt as if I had scared him.
"Um..no..." Lance said uncertainly. "I wasn't paying attention. What was going on?" I patiently relayed the details to him of how they had made a spectacle of themselves (don't worry, they were dancing--I think they were made for each other-- and not fighting).
"Oh," Lance said shortly, turning his attention back to the window. "I wish I had seen it." I sat there next to my boyfriend feeling a little bit off kilter. There was something wrong with Lance (duh), and once again using that wonderful gift of intuition that had helped me out so many times before, I sensed that his shitty mood had to do with that phone call he had received earlier. For the duration of the ride, I remained silent, not wanting to annoy him any more than he seemed. When the cab pulled up to the hotel, I paid the driver this time and we walked into the building. Unlike other times, Lance didn't make a move on me in the elevator once the doors slammed shut. This surprised me, since I was beginning to think that elevators were his favorite place to make out in.
We walked to our room like we had done so many times before. I unlocked the door and let us into the suite. Once he was in the room, Lance disappeared into the bathroom without a word and closed the door behind him. I stood there in shock, my eyes locked on the door as though I thought it was going to magically open just by the power of my stare. When I realized that Lance wasn't going to be coming out of there anytime soon, I walked over to the bed and sat on it.
`Now who's keeping secrets,' I thought somewhat resentfully, as I took my watch off and absentmindedly began to fiddle around with it. I don't know how many minutes passed when the door to the bathroom finally opened and Lance appeared. His face was slightly red and his eyes looked a little bloodshot.
He had been crying.
I immediately stood up from my seat on the bed, wanting to know what was troubling him so much, but Lance had other ideas. He met me at the bed and roughly pushed me back down onto it. His mouth met mine almost as soon as he had touched me and he had kissed me with such intensity and passion I was surprised that I didn't throw up from it. I had no idea where this forceful side of him was coming from. His hands began to feverishly run down my chest, slipped up my shirt and attempted to pull it off of my body. Something wet hit my cheek as his mouth stayed glued to mine while his hands began to slide downwards into my pants. More wetness hit my face. His thumbs hooked over the band of my boxers and then just as about he was going to slide his hands into them, I realized what the wetness on my face was.
He was still crying.
Using all of the energy I could muster, I pushed Lance away and attempted to sit up. Lance looked at me oddly, his face streaked with tears.
"What is your problem?" he shouted at me as I pulled my shirt down.
"My problem? MY problem? I'm not the one who locks myself in the bathroom, comes back out and mauls my boyfriend and starts crying while doing it. I didn't realize I was that bad of a kisser," I added, trying to get Lance to crack a smile. I reached over and handed him the box of tissues. And then I crawled over to him.
"Lance, what's wrong?" I asked him quietly. "You've been funny all night...and now this...I hate to be so goddamn nosy, but we both promised each other, `no more secrets'. What's going on?"
Lance had pulled his legs into an Indian style position, and stared downwards for a few seconds. He grabbed one of the tissues out of the box, wiped his face and then crawled to the top of the bed, where I promptly joined him. He leaned his back against the headboard and took a few deep calming breaths before speaking.
"You're right...I'm being a hypocrite..." he said slowly, twirling the tissue around between his fingers. "It's just weird..."
"What? What's so weird you can't even tell the weirdest person on Earth?" I gently chided Lance, bringing a smile to his face. He continued playing around with the tissue, finally shredding the thin paper into small pieces. His pale green eyes were focused on something in front of him as he cleared his throat and spoke.
"I got a phone call from home today..it was my father..." Lance began slowly, smacking his dry lips. "And it was okay at first...you know the usual, how are you doing' , are you being good'...all that stuff." He paused for a second. "And then he starts getting really nosy, and I mean really nosy about my love life." Lance looked at me, his green eyes filled with confusion and anger. "Remember when that girl...Monica came on the bus and interviewed all of us?"
I nodded. Yes, the interview. Where the guys wore Cynthia's infamous t-shirts. And Josh announced that he had a girlfriend. And where Lance said that he had met someone special--meaning me, Stephen Peterson. Although he hadn't been gender specific or even mentioned a name. I remembered that as clear as day. I would probably never forget it.
"Yeah, I know what you're talking about," I told Lance as he plucked another tissue out of the box and began shredding that one as well.
"Well, he read that interview. And he wants to know who that person was."
Lance's father...I had somehow forgot about him. Sure, I had met Diane..his mother. What a wonderful person she was, I thought with a smile. She had been so nice to me. I had even talked to her yesterday when she had called Lance up to say hello. But his father...he had never crossed my mind. And now he wanted to know who Lance was in love with. Sure it was fair...If I had a son, I'd want to know who he was dating.
"So what'd did you tell him?" A pause. A long, uncomfortable pause that made the hairs on my neck stand straight up.
"I told him that the article was a lie...I told him that I didn't meet anyone and that I'm still single," Lance said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "Stephen, I just couldn't tell him like that." He shook his head. "I just couldn't break the news to him that his one and only son is gay. Not like this...over the telephone, while I'm in some L.A. hotel and he's in Mississippi. I want to tell him face to face." His deep voice cracked as he said this, and for a second, I could tell he was on the verge of crying once more, but he held his composure and then finally looked up at me. A frightened look was on his face as he dared to look into my eyes. I don't know what he was expecting from me...
Yes, I was hurt. I was. It was pretty inevitable. See, you have to look at it this way. Lance was lying about me...to his father, I was nonexistent. I was nothing. But at the same time, I had become Lance's everything, just like Lance had become my everything. He was my whole world now, the person I woke up to and fell asleep with. He had filled my thoughts and comforted me whenever we were together. I loved him. But while that part of me thought this, the other part of me completely understood Lance's actions. I still regretted the way I had come out to my mother.
It was on my twenty-first birthday. Right before my friends had taken me out to get my celebratory, twenty-first birthday drink, my mom asked me why I never had a girlfriend. And since I was so sick of this question, I blurted out the truth. I was gay. I didn't like girls. And the look that appeared on her face would haunt my memory forever. It was one of shock, sadness and hatred all rolled into one. Not even one look of sympathetic concern...it was strange. It wasn't the way I wanted to tell her. And it was not the reaction I had been expecting at all...and now look where we were.
I looked back over at Lance, who was still staring at me with a concern. I guess he thought I was going to go off the deep end. Yell at him or something. But I didn't. Instead, I took his hand in mine and looked at it for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way his soft, pale hand felt in mine.
"I'm not mad," I said quietly. "I'm not...really. I understand why you would tell your dad that, Lance...and your right, telling him over the phone is not a good way to break the news to him."
"So you understand?" Lance asked nervously, exhaling a sigh of relief that was loud enough for the world to hear, which caused me to let out a gentle laugh. He had been really nervous. "Really?"
"Really! It's just..."
"Just what?" he asked worriedly. I bit my lip, not wanting to worry him any more than he was already.
"Are you going to tell him..about me and you? I mean, your mom knows. It would be kind of silly to keep him in the dark."
Lance nodded slowly. "Well, of course I will..I have to. I have to let him know about you, Stephen. You're my boyfriend," he added. The look of worry that had been masking his face all evening was finally replaced with a genuine grin, as reached up and traced a path down my cheekbone.
"Can I ask you something," I managed to ask him as his touches became more and more distracting.
"Shoot," he said as he leaned in closer to me.
"Why were you all handsy with me after you came out of the bathroom?" I asked, feigning disgust. "You were all touchy and grabby and well, what if I didn't like that stuff?" I couldn't help but grin at my lie. Of course I liked it. Who wouldn't? But it bothered me that he had acted that way while he was so upset. Like something had possessed him at the particular moment.
"Oh, I'd make you like it," he laughed softly. He dropped his hand away from my cheek, and let it fall onto his lap. "Seriously though, I don't know why I attacked you like that when I came out of the bathroom...maybe it was because I was thinking about that phone call...and about you..and that I just wanted to show you how much I loved you at that moment." His face turned a light pink as he thought about his earlier actions. "You gotta admit...it was exciting though."
"It was..." I agreed as I studied his handsome face once more. I couldn't help myself, as I rolled my body on top of his and gave him a lustful deep kiss. "Happy first month anniversary sweetie," I whispered once our lips parted. I gave him a grin as I realized that I wanted to return the frantic feelings that were coursing through my body. "Wanna pick up where we left off?" I asked devilishly. Lance grinned at me upon hearing my words and stretched his hand out towards the lamp on the nightstand.
"I thought you'd never ask," Lance said simply before shutting off the light, bathing us in the darkness of the night.
Well, what did you think? The next chapter is going to be a lot more fun, I can promise you that much...it's Cynthia's birthday for God's sake! Anyways, tell me what you think at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com Thanks for reading! Love, Gabriella.