// Part 3 // When Brit came back, she was surprised and a little frightened to find none of the lights on, the house pitch black. Justin's car was in the drive and it didn't seem damaged. She went in, flipping switches and calling his name until she got to their bedroom. The lump on the bed moved and she sat down next to it. "Ju, baby? What happened. News not taken well?" When there was no answer, she continued anyway. "Well, fuck `em if they don't want you to be happy." He rolled onto his back then and Brit gasped in surprise, wondering what exactly made him cry long enough to look like that. She hovered like a mama bird, leaning over and dropping kisses on his face and neck. "We can do this, Ju. We can." He searched her face and knew she believed it. "Lance thinks I'm gay-- or bi." She didn't look shocked or even very disbelieving. There were no protestations of `No, not you'. "So? What happens now?" Justin felt his stomach fall. "Nothing. It's not true. We go ahead with our plans." This time it was Britney's turn to study Justin. It sounded like the truth. His face said it was true--that he really believed he was heterosexual. Britney lay down beside him and buried her uncertainty. "Fine. We start planning tomorrow." It was a hell of a long time before Justin got back to sleep. Britney got food from someplace but he refused it. He was sure he would throw up any solids. He asked for a drink and she refused, telling him that he shouldn't get drunk, that drinking solves nothing. He stared at her. In the end he curled back beneath the blankets and went over the day, again and again. He ticked off the reasons  getting married was a bad idea. Ideas that his friends had put into words. He was too young. He didn't understand the kind of relationship marriage required. It would fuck up NSYNC. He was gay or bi. Every time he got to the last he heard Lance's voice, sad but determined to tell him the truth, to make him look at himself. Then he would hum or repeat some nonsense until he drowned it out and the tape started over. Exhaustion took over somewhere and he fell asleep only to be plagued by dreams, nightmares of Lance chasing him, shouting out the truth. Only Britney's warmth and soothing touch made the night bearable. Lance wasn't much better off. By the time he had sobered up completely, he felt awful. Justin had looked so scared, so alone with his reality. And Lance had made that happen. He wanted to kick himself, not for telling Justin--it needed to be said--but for the bluntness, the harshness that ripped at the fabric of Justin's sensitive nature. He wanted a drink but had enough sense to realize that it would be a very bad idea. So he sipped tea and thought back over the years he had known Justin. A long time and this had been building for years. Lance had acknowledged his own sexual orientation somewhere in the first two years. He knew for sure when he fantasized every night about Justin and what it would feel like to kiss him, to touch him, to stroke his cock. He touched but then they all did. Especially Justin who hugged and sat close and kissed-- big wet ones on the cheek. As time passed and Justin seemed to remain clueless, Lance went outside the group. Surreptitiously at first and then finally he decided to go public. Or semi-public anyhow. First, family. That went reasonably well. No `Great, son, we're so happy' but no `Get the hell out of our lives' either. The guys had been easier than he  had expected. Of the three older than him, no one seemed particularly surprised. More to the point, it hadn't been a problem. It had changed the dynamics subtly but that was all. Joey, Chris, and JC admired his courage and told him so. Justin, on the other hand, had stared with big, wide eyes and whispered questions like `How did you know?' Lance had answered honestly but when Justin blanched, he decided not to go any further. Justin had never brought it up again but their relationship was just that little less touchy-feely. And he started dating Britney pretty soon after that. Lance had never pursued Justin. But in the last year Lance had sensed the vibes from him. He had watched then and noticed details. Like Justin waiting till Lance said what he was doing before he made plans. Like Justin offering his home to Lance when he was in LA. Like Justin calling and visiting the set of On  the Line to `learn about the film business.' Lance had probed just a little, to see where Justin was at and came away with the sense that Justin was still clueless about his sexual orientation. Lance had discussed it with some of his gay friends and they had agreed that Justin was unaware, as difficult to believe as that was. Then, in the last five weeks, the incidents had escalated. Justin could win awards for creativity in his excuses for contacting Lance. And it was sad. Lance could feel the peace that descended over Justin when they talked, the easy connection of soulmates. He hadn't been sure what to do, what to say, how to handle it. It had started to get under his skin, his desire for this boy growing daily. He had started to drink more, to escape from the situation. The night before had been the last straw. He had met a boy in the bar who had curly blond hair and blue eyes and acknowledged who he was and wanted to blow Lance in the john. So they went in and Lance imagined it was Justin and nearly drank himself into a coma before the night ended. Joey and JC had deposited his ass in bed and sat with him until they were sure he would be okay. When Justin turned up, he had no restraint left. The hangover combined with Justin's denial set off the fateful flow of words. Now, he sat staring out the window at the gray, rainy day and wondered `What next?' Lance had felt the withdrawal, the terror of the loneliness Justin was bathed in. The loneliness of knowing but not letting yourself know. He called Joey and cried into the phone. "Come over. Please." Joey knew. Lance had never said the words aloud but they were best friends and he knew Joey knew. "Hey." He heard the familiar voice. "Up here." Joey's head poked through the door. "What's up? Why you still up here? That bad?" Lance shook his head, smiling at the litany of questions. "I feel like shit—physically and emotionally." Joey nodded sympathetically. "Ju's been here." "Yep." "And? You're upset that he's getting married?" Joey asked. Lance's lips curled in a sneer, "No. He can get married." "But you don't want him to." "It's a mistake. A fucked up, unmitigated disaster in the making." "But…" "I told him I thought he was either gay or bi." "Shit. How'd he take that?" "As well as you'd think since he had no idea. I also told him I believed he's in love with me." Joey whistled through his teeth, a pained look on his rugged features. "So what happened?" "He looked pretty shitty when he left. God, Joe, what the hell have I done?" "Guess we'll have to wait and see." Wait and see. Everyone took that attitude including the happy couple. Justin was glued to Britney's side, tagging along everywhere until she shooed him away. "Ju, baby, I need some time alone. Go find the guys and make peace. You haven't talked to them in days." "I don't want to talk about this. They don't approve. I don't care. I'm not about to volunteer for more shit." "Call Trace. Call Wade. Write music. Write lyrics. Justin?" He looked like a scolded child and she enfolded his lanky frame in her tiny arms. "It's okay, babe. Come on. Let's go shop, girl," she giggled. The days were passing. The sex was wild, a frantic attempt to prove he was not in love with Lance. As the date grew closer, there was a panicked quality to their coupling and Brit knew it. Two nights before the wedding, with everything in place, she slipped out of bed. She gazed down on her best friend, his beautiful face tormented even in his sleep. She hugged herself, a sob catching in her throat as she ran out of the room on bare feet. She locked herself in the den and dialed the familiar number. The response on the other end was fuzzy and for a moment she thought he was drunk again. "Lance?" "Brit," he whispered. "Tell me you haven't been drinking." "A little. But I'm not drunk if that's what you're asking." "You need to fix this." He didn't even try to pretend he didn't know what she was saying. "How?"  It was the question he had been asking himself for the last nine days. Justin hadn't contacted anyone but Chris and that was only to ask if he was still willing to be his best man. Chris had reported the brief conversation and told them Justin sounded awful. The four had talked for hours coming up with plan after plan only to reject each one in turn. Lance felt all of them staring, blaming him for clawing at Justin's denial so heartlessly. He had apologized over and over, explained again and again. And while they forgave him, it didn't help the situation. "Be available tomorrow. Stay home. Near the phone. Fucking be there for him." "Why? What's going on?" "Just fucking do it or I'll come over there myself and kill you." He could hear the tears in her voice, just beneath the anger. "Okay. I'll be here," he answered and the phone slammed into the cradle at the other end before he could get out another word. He didn't sleep at all for the rest of the night and was still sitting by the phone into the next morning. Justin woke and stretched and remembered. For the last nine days, Brit knew exactly when he recalled his conversation with Lance. His body shrank. He pulled into himself and reached for her, bringing her close.  "Hey." Tears were blurring her vision. "Justin," she said, the word floating on the air, his name as beautiful as he was. "What's the matter, babe?" he asked, the anxiety clear. She pulled away and sat up, crossing her legs beneath her, hugging herself, building a wall between them. She looked at his face and nearly lost her courage. He was so frightened. He wanted to pull the covers over his head, keep out whatever was coming. It wasn't good. He could feel it in the room. "I can't marry you." Simple. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear the rest. But he knew her too well. She needed to see it through, to finish whatever she had started. "That's it?" "You're miserable." "No, baby girl, I'm not. I   want to marry you. Really. I love you." His voice shook with fear. "I know you do, Justin. And I love you. And this is really hard, but it's not fair to either of us to get married until…" "Until what?" he cried. But he knew the answer. So he dove under the covers and put his hands over his ears. She could wait. She would wait. She needed to say this and he needed to hear. She sat still. Then she grabbed the phone on the bedside stand and dialed quickly. He didn't move in response. She spoke into the phone, "Get over here and wait outside until I need you." The blankets shifted and his curly head poked out. "Who was that?" "Never mind." She looked like an annoyed parent at the moment but softened when she saw his face. "Don't hide, Justin. You've been hiding too long." He pushed himself up then, into a sitting position. He remained silent, chewing on his bottom lip and picking at his nails. "You know that, right?" "What?" "That you're escaping into marriage." She said it flatly, no judgment in her voice. "And I won't be part of that even though I love you with all of my heart." "What am I escaping from?" he asked. "Lance." Justin's face registered shock, the understanding that he was so transparent that his secret wasn't a secret from anyone but himself. He felt the tears start and angrily brushed them away. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Yes, you do. And until you deal with this and come to some peace with it, it ain't gonna happen for us." She was losing patience, already hurt that she was playing second fiddle to Lance. Now she had to spell it out and break down his denial. Well, fuck that. "Damn, Justin, you need to take a hard look at yourself. Can you honestly say you have no idea what I'm talking about?" "No, baby, I know. But I don't want anyone but you." She jumped to her feet and placed her hands on her hips, ready for a fight. Then she burst into tears and covered her face. When Justin leaped to comfort her, she pushed him away, fury and pain at war. "God, Brit, I am so sorry," he said in a distraught voice. He tugged on his curls, running his fingers through in a nervous gesture. "What can I do? How can I make this better." "Deal, Justin, deal," she said between sobs.  Then she ran out of the room and he let her go. He collapsed bonelessly onto the bed and covered his face. He listened as the front door opened and then slammed, presumably behind her. He rolled over and buried his face in her pillow, inhaling her scent. * His * tears fell then and he let them come. He felt her return but he didn't turn to look. He had no idea what to do next, what to even say. He felt the hand on his shoulder, squeezing, offering support. It wasn't Brit. Turning on his back, Justin met Lance's gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes. There was  silence. Lance touched his hip, moving Justin over and making space to sit. Lance took that as a positive sign. "Britney called me. She asked me to come." Justin simply nodded. Justin cleared his throat and said, "She's canceling the wedding." "Why?" Lance asked though he was sure of the answer already. "She seems to think I love you, too." "And what do * you * think? Ten days, Justin. Plenty of time to think." "I don't want to be in love with you." "But you are?" Justin looked up into Lance's clear green eyes, shadowed with exhaustion. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." Lance bit his lip. He needed to stay calm. What he wanted to scream was `How the fuck can you not know?' What he said was, "Tell me how you feel when we talk, when we're together, like now." "I…feel…safe. Like I know who I am. Like you know who I am. Like I don't have to pretend with you and it's okay." "Go on." "What else?" "Do you ever think about sex?" Justin blushed, a deep red, and stared at a picture on the wall. "Sometimes," he whispered. "So if you put that all together, how is it different from Brit?" "I don't  know. I just know I don't want to be in love with you." Justin looked at Lance. "I'm sorry." "Why?" "I don't want to hurt you," he said, deliberately evading the real question. "No," Lance said, "what is wrong with loving me?" Justin sat up and moved away. "I don't want to be homosexual or bisexual. Just heterosexual." "And you think you can choose?" Justin had no answer, so Lance continued. "If you could choose, the feelings that you're fighting so hard against would have disappeared by now." Justin remained silent. "What's so bad about being gay or bi?" Lance asked. Justin shrugged. Lance sucked it up, realizing he was going to have to carry the whole conversation. "Religion?" Small shake. "Disgust?" Big shake. "Family?" A thoughtful frown before a small shake. "The guys?" Huge shake. "Then what? Jesus, Ju, it seems like you must know why you're denying this so vehemently." "People," Justin whispered. Lance scrunched his face into a confused expression. "What people?" Lance asked in a frustrated tone. "Fuck, Justin, spit it out." "Just people. They'll laugh at me." Lance was nodding, even though he didn't have a clue what Justin was saying. He waited for more. "They'll think I'm an idiot. When I have Brit in my bed? To choose a guy over her?" Lance was stunned. "That's it?" he whispered. "You've put yourself, Brit, and me through this misery because people might think you're nuts?" Lance stood and paced. "That means you still think you have a choice about which sex to love." His temper was flaring and he was losing control. "So not to lose adoring fans, you'll beat the shit out of Brit and me mentally?" "No, Lance," Justin begged. "You self-centered little queen. Marry her. Marry yourself. Just leave me out." He stalked to the door and grabbed the knob. He turned back and spat the words at Justin, "You are what you are and all the fucking stupid ass reasons in the world about why that's bad ain't gonna change that. So deal with that, shithead." ( four ) ( back to menu )