'A Second Chance' Chapter 8
Hello Everyone! The votes are in, and I am quite surprised with the result. The almost unanimous winner (and no, there won't be any recounts) is...::drum roll:: option four 'Turn it into a saga. Get them married, add a few plot twists, another couple etc.' I am really flattered that no one voted for option one ::grin:: I also had a few people ask me who the 'odd couple' is. And since it doesn't look like I'm going to start another story soon, I will incorporate my idea into this story. I'll have to play around with it a little bit to make it fit, but I'm sure it'll work out. The story will get a little darker, so consider yourself warned. Anyway...here's chapter 8. Enjoy! Take care j
Disclaimer: The usual stuff applies. This is a work of fiction, the product of my over active imagination. I am not implying anything about the sexuality of the members of the two bands. If you are underage, please leave or at least make sure you don't get caught. If you are homophobic...what are you even doing here?
*** This chapter starts at in the first week of the joint tour. Nick and Justin are still together and happy as ever. Nick has come out to his band and family. Due to some idea of management, there are always two guys in room, one from each band. ***
Justin snuggled up to Nick and rested his head on his lover's chest. Nick opened his eyes slowly and sighed.
"Justin, will you please stop moving around? I'm trying to sleep." He whined.
" Sorry. But I can't sleep. I love you too much." Justin replied.
"What does that have to do with anything? I love you too. That's no reason not to sleep." Nick couldn't help but smile. Sometimes Justin's logic was overwhelming. Justin smiled back.
"Ok. I'll try to sleep." He closed his eyes and soon fatigue took over and he was swept away. Nick looked down at Justin's angelic face. It was moments like this when he wondered what he had done to deserve Justin's love. 'Maybe I shouldn't ask so much and just accept it.' He thought to himself. One thing was for sure. He was happier now than he had ever been before.
It was easy to forget. AJ needed only two things to make his life bearable. Alcohol and a knife. It was still dark outside, and he was sitting on the balcony. He had to be quiet as to not awake his roommate. For some reason management had set him up with JC. If this was some sort of joke about the fact that both their names were made up of initials, he would kill management. He sighed. Who was he kidding? The only person he was killing was himself. He took another drink from the bottle and reached for the knife. The cold blade, sliding smoothly over hot skin, leaving a crimson trail. He didn't cut deep, just deep enough for the pain to take over his mind so he didn't have to think. He stared at the blood that was running down and dripping on the tiles. Tears came to his eyes. When had he become so messed up? 'Don't think!' he reminded himself. The bottle. He took another sip, then drained the entire bottle. There hadn't been much left anyway. He sank back into the chair and waited for the alcohol to take over. Numbing his body to the stinging pain form his arm, dulling his sense. He welcomed the feeling. Soon his eyes fell shut and he drifted off to sleep.
It was the sound of the bottle, rolling off the chair and shattering on the tiles that woke JC up. He looked around but couldn't locate the source of the noise. He got up and walked over to the adjoining room where AJ was sleeping on the couch. Or was supposed to be anyway. In amazement JC started at the empty couch. Where had his roommate gone? He stumbled towards the door and switched on the light. The door to the balcony was open, and he walked out. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw there.
JC had realized some time ago that nothing was ever like it seemed. The world wasn't just black and white, cut and dry. There was something in between, something hiding in the shadows. Sometimes, it would leave the shadow. No one wanted to be confronted with the shadows. Not JC, of all people. He was a practical person. Everything had to be simple, there had to be an explanation for everything. But sometimes, he couldn't find that explanation, and that was when he got scared. Like now. Seeing AJ passed out on a chair, a trail of blood trickling down his arm, an empty liquor bottle on the ground, he got scared. It took him a while to regain his composure, but then he knew he had to do something. He picked up the intoxicated Backstreet Boy and carried him over to the couch. With a wet wash cloth he wiped off the blood. He threw away the empty bottle, and following a quick impulse, he threw away the knife too. He undressed AJ down to the boxers, then pulled up the blanket and covered him. Exhausted he went back to his bed. He left the door open and stared at the couch. AJ was sleeping peacefully now, but sleep was not an option for JC. There were too many unanswered questions in his head. He hadn't known AJ for long, but what he did know about him made him seem like a pretty normal person. Okay, so he dressed a little weird, he was a popstar, he was known to go a little overboard once in a while. But all in all, he had always come across as a pretty sane person. Yet by JC's standards, sane people weren't cutters. He wasn't blind, he knew that cutters existed and he knew that AJ was probably one. The thing that got to him was that he could not detect a reason for it. There was only one thing he knew for sure, and that was that AJ needed help. Kevin should probably know, since he seemed to be the head of the Backstreet Boys, but JC didn't know Kevin well enough to predict how he would react. For AJ's sake, he didn't want to turn this into a huge thing. The only other person that he thought could handle this situation and do something about it was Lance. The longer he thought about it, the better the idea seemed to him. Finally he picked up the phone. He knew that it was only 4am, but if he couldn't sleep, then Lance might as well not be able to sleep either. He dialed the number.
"Who would call at 4 fucking am in the morning?" Kevin murmured sleepily as he reached for the phone.
"Hello? Whoever this is...it's too damn early to be making phone calls. Can't this wait till morning." Kevin yelled.
"It's me, JC. And no, this can't wait. Can you put Lance on the phone?" JC pleaded. Kevin let out a few curses, then got out of bed. He walked over to the couch and shook Lance.
"Wake up! There's a lunatic on the phone for you." He said.
"Tell him to call back. I don't talk to lunatics before sunrise." Lance replied.
"He says it's important." Kevin pointed out. Lance turned around and gasped.
"Um, Kevin, I don't care if you sleep in the nude...just put something on before you come to me, alright?" he grinned and walked over to the phone, leaving a very embarrassed Kevin standing by the couch.
"Hello? Who is this? And it better be important." Lance said into the phone.
"It's me. And I've got a problem. Well, I don't, but a certain Backstreet Boy does." JC explained.
"I'm not responsible for the Backstreet Boys. Maybe you should talk to Kevin." Lance advised. Kevin heard his name and came closer.
"But I don't know how he would react." JC complained.
"Then you're just gonna have to find out. I'm putting him on the phone, k?" Lance didn't wait for and answer and handed the phone over to Kevin.
"JC? What's wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"I found AJ passed out on the balcony. He drank an entire bottle of vodka, and he cut his arm with a knife."
"He what?!" Kevin yelled. "I'll be right there."
Well, that's it. I told you that my story would get darker. And it will get worse before it gets better. By now you probably also figured out at least one half of the new couple. Anyway, I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible, since this kind of ended on a cliffhanger. Take care,
j