| He sat alone as he held the mirror up to his face. He glanced at the tired eyes reflecting back at him. The dark circles that lay under his eyes. "The luggage of success." Or so they all called them. True as it may be, he was tired. Tired from performing. Tired from photo shoots. Tired of the many personal questions he was expected to answer day in, day out. He felt way beyond his years. He moved the mirror slightly to the right of his face. He looked on as an elderly couple took a seat three rows behind him. He watched as a young man, no more than two years older than him, carried a small child a mere five steps before an older woman screeched and held her arms open to embrace them. It wasn't so long ago that he could sit in an airport without having to sit facing away from everyone walking through the terminal. Just another face in a crowd that was one of hundreds to pass through every hour was a status he never realized he should sit back and appreciate. The ringing in his ears from the screams and hollers associated with his name and face lingered on despite the 1:23 AM readout of the clock on the wall in front of him. He shifted the mirror to look into the gift shop, doing his best to avoid the rack of magazines facing the main concourse. Surrounded by the unfamiliar sound of silence , he enjoys it and he turns the mirror to a group of teenagers. Most of the boys are playing cards. Of the three girls, two are stretched across the first row of chairs, sleeping. The third is reading something yet to be determined. He watches as she shifts position, turning away from the young man to the right pestering her. As she adjusts herself to gain more comfort, her hands hold up a familiar sight. He looks on as his own face stares back at him along with the four other faces he's usually seen with. As he glances away, he looks up towards the clock. 1:34. He begins to gather his things. He pulls a hat over his unstyled hair and pulls up the hood of the sweatshirt that he's wearing despite the 80 degree humid weather that waits for him outside. He places his sunglasses over his most recognized feature and stands to leave. Another successful night. He went unrecognized and unbothered yet again. This made three cities in a row. For a moment, he was saddened that this was what life had come to. But, early morning excursions to the airport had become something he almost looked forward to. The others would think he was crazy when they found out. In some odd way, this was how he found some sanity. He didn't regret the life he'd made for himself one bit, but it was nice to step aside from it once in a while and seek momentary anonymity. Some people wonder what it's like to be Lance Bass. Ever stop to think if he wonders what it's like to be them? Next - JC Back To Soul Searcher Series |