| DON'T THINK I'M NOT TEN |
| The ticking of the clock was driving her crazy. Why was it that in upscale hotels they felt the need to grace the room with some kind of ticking clock instead of just a simple digital one? She laid on the sofa, one arm draped over her eyes. The sleeve on her sweats dried every tear as it escaped her eyes, and she hated Lance right now, just hated him. Unforgivable was putting it mildly. She should have known better. Justin was not her intended target, no matter what he knew. Lance loved to play these sick games and she was going to call it quits. He could find someone else to fuck with. Joey would just have to learn to be a more exciting lover with her, and knock off all his catting around. That was it, the answer. If he didn't, well, that was a bridge she would cross when she got there. Rising slowly, she grabbed her cell phone and paged Joey, again. This was the third time, and still no response. Right now, she needed him there with her. Of course, she could never tell him why, but just to be held in his strong arms and snuggle down in the saftey of his being was what she craved. Screw Lance and his mind games. "Open up!" the bang on the door was firm, and loud. Lance's deep voice called out in a most unfriendly tone. "Go away!" she shouted back, clicking her cell phone off. "I'm not going away. I just want to talk to you." She studied the door, frowning. That was the last thing she felt like doing right now, talking to him. Even the idea of seeing his face was making her stomach roll. What she wanted to do was crawl into Justin's room and beg his forgiveness, and see for herself if he was alright. The thought of opening that door, though, was frightening. Sighing heavily, she approached it carefully, afraid that any moment Lance would just burst in. "Please go away," she said wearily. "Come on!" he whined. "Open up. We have to talk this out. It's important." Her legs were frozen, and her heart raced. Shaking her head, she slumped against the back of the door and buried her head in her hands. "No," she replied softly. Then it happened, quicker than she could have imagined. The door flew open, sending her flying to the carpet. The surprise of it stunned her and she scrambled to her feet, looking up. Lance stood there, his green eyes smiling sweetly. "Yes," he grinned, holding up a copy of her room key. He never saw the angry figure of Justin creep up from behind, only felt the sting of the punch that landed square in his jaw. She watched in horror and Justin's shaking body landed blow after blow on Lance. Not knowing what else to do, she dove for Justin, jumping onto his back. She wrapped her hands around his neck and tugged hard. "Justin, no. This isn't the way!" she whispered in his ear. Justin was tough, through the angry tears that stung his face. He was too mad to speak, small grunts flying from his mouth. He untangled her arms from around him and shoved Lance back into Joey's room. Lance wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, watching with interest as a deep red smattering of blood seeped into his pores. "Fuck! Justin, you fucking made me bleed!" She followed the two into the room, her hands shaking. This was crazy. There had to be a way to calm the situation, and quick. Joey would probably call any minute, or come back and this was one scene that she didn't want anyone to see. "Why?" Justin seethed, his jaw so tightly clenched his teeth hurt. "Why in the hell would you set me up?" Lance sat on the bed, rubbing his tender mouth. Why indeed. He didn't know. It made perfect sense at the time, but now, seeing his group mate standing there so distraught, a reason was beyond him. "I don't know," he replied, suddenly feeling the need to divert his gaze. She stood watching, unmoving, waiting for Justin's wrath to unleash itself on her. When he turned to stare at her, she noticed just how affected he had been by the whole thing, and shame filled her. There was nothing appropriate enough to say to him, nothing that would make him feel better. No words could justify what she'd done, coerced or not. His eyes were blackened by the hurt he felt, and she shook her head. "You!" he hissed at her. "You went right along with this sick fuck I used to call my friend. Why would you do that? Is he that good in bed?" The words slit into her, and she crumbled to the floor. Yes, he was. And yes, that was most of the power Lance held over her. She wasn't some horny little teeny bopper who was into Lance for who he was, it was so much deeper than that. But it was all about the sex, not love, not even like anymore. Just sex. Stupid reason didn't even come close to how bad that sounded. Justin threw his hands up in disgust. "I promise you both this," he continued, rage replacing the hurt in his eyes. "As soon as Joey is back, he's getting the whole story! All of it! Everthing I've seen you two do right up to this little escapade. All of it!" Lance hopped up, cautious not to get too close to the ranting singer for fear of getting hit once again. "You can't!" he cried, feeling trapped. "He'll hate you! He'll hate the messenger more than us. You'll be fucked, and we'll eventually get off. He'll never believe you!" Her sobs were growing louder, and Lance hurried to her, scooping her up and placing her on the bed. "Shh, it's okay. He doesn't have the balls to hurt Joey like that." Justin looked at the two of them, feeling sick. The two of them were like Jekyll and Hyde, playing public parts for everyone, then turning plain evil when no one was watching. Inside, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Joey, but he couldn't live with himself knowing that he had sex, asleep or not, with the woman his friend intended to marry. No way. It was too hard. In his mind, there was no choice. The decision was clear, tell Joey as soon as possible. Lance resisted the urge to tell the blubbering figure next to him to shut up so he could think. That would be way too mean, and he'd had his fill of playing that part this evening. He begged his brain to spin it's wheels and come up with an idea, a better one than Justin telling what he knew. "Justin," he began, standing up straight, staring directly into his eyes. "The thing is, I don't want Joey to know." It was the God's honest truth, after all. "And if you tell him, then he's going to quit N Sync, for sure. You know Joey. He's not one to have his pride battered and walk around us all like it's okay." Lance could see Justin thinking about what he'd just said, and hoped he could wrangle him into taking his side. "It'll be bad for the group, bad for us all." Good, his mind was spinning, thinking about the end of N Sync. Lance continued, steadily. "Let's just end it all. Keep it to ourselves and promise never to mention it. No one needs to get hurt here!" Justin puffed out his cheeks, capturing his breath in them, then letting it out slowly. Maybe he could try to keep this underwraps, and forget about it. But Lance still needed to pay for what he did, and pay big time. A smile pulled at Justin's lips and he folded his arms over his chest. "Okay, Lance. You sick pervert. You want me quiet? Okay, I can do that. For a price." Lance glared at him. "Excuse me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You heard me, you phony. You can buy my silence. And your money is no good here." Justin nodded, proud of himself, happy that maybe he could get out of this mess with some of his spirit in tact. From on the bed, she sighed, looking over at Lance. "Give him what he wants," she warned, praying for the ball to leave her court and sink right into Lance's. She wanted out, and this was her chance. |