| I can still remember the first time I saw him, the first time our eyes met. It was like something you read about in a bad romance novel. If you ask him, he'll tell you the same, only no one will ask him, because I don't exist anymore. My friend, Carrie, persuaded me to make some extra cash by being a cage dancer for the MTV 'secret' parties. Every so often, MTV will hire out a club and throw a bash for certain groups that they're in bed with. That's how they get the musicians loyalties. It's all about the ass kissing, but you know that. Hell, everyone knows that. Anyway, Carrie tells me that they're having a special party for some group, and it's all hush-hush, as usual, to avoid any unwanted media. I was in school, studying to be a teacher. The extra money was needed, desperately, and it was just such an obscene amount, who was I to say no. I wouldn't have to take off my clothes, thank God. I'm not like that. I could never! So, she talked me into it and we headed out to the club on one Saturday evening. An official sylist for MTV was there, if you can believe that. He tossed a small outfit at my head and directed me where to change. Let me tell you, when I put it on, I wanted to run. It was like those leather daisy dukes and a studded leather bra. And the boots! Brother, thigh high. I looked basically like a stripper, and was having my second thoughts. They showed me my little cage, and it seemed safe enough. Carrie was giving me shots of Alabama Slammers to calm me. They certainly did take the edge off, but I was still feeling nervous. The bouncers assured me that no one would be able to get at me, and they would have my back all night, whatever the hell that meant. At exactly 10 pm, the lights in the club went down, and the coodinater from MTV started screaming at me and another girl to get in the cages. The other girl didn't seem at all concerned, so I was guessing she'd done this before. As for Carrie, she was paid to look pretty and walk around, making sure the guests of honor were taken care of. That meant alcohol, drugs, sex, whatever they requested. She and five or six other women were in charge of finding what the stars wanted. It all sounded sleazy to me, but as long as all I had to do was dance, I was cool. They began to let people in, and I remember the blue spotlight flashing on me as the music started. I tell you, I was so scared, I was shaking. My hair had been teased and sprayed unmercifully, and I had body glitter all over me. Looking back on it, I see why I was there. It all makes sense now. But then, shit, it wasn't looking good. The club positioned a huge man in front of my cage, just huge, like wrestler huge. He stood there to 'protect' me. He told me I was only to talk to people he okayed me to. I nodded, completely confused. I had no idea how to play that game. The guests of honor finally arrived around 11:30. The only reason I knew was because the music died, and the DJ announced their entrance. It still cracks me up. Like they're royalty or something. Of course I stood on tip toes to catch a glimpse, still unsure of what was happening. My bouncer turned and sighed. "Fucking N Sync," he snorted. "Shit! I hate those little punks!" N Sync? The top boy band themselves. Okay, well I hated pop, still do. But have a soft spot for N Sync. I have to. I'm in love with one of them. So, N Sync was in the house, and things got way crazy. For a closed party, it was sheer madness. I focused on dancing, trying hard not to pass out from the heat and everything. I spotted Carrie linking arms with Joey and thought this was truly insane, and wanted nothing more than to kick her ass for all this. Then I saw him. The adorable blonde with the spiky hair. My heart still jumps in my chest when I think about seeing him. He was near the bar, talking with one of the MTV hostesses like Carrie, whispering something in her ear, then laughing. He looked over at me, and just for a split second, we made eye contact. I wanted to jump out of that cage and run over to him, but I didn't. Couldn't. So I kept dancing, keeping my eye on him. Throughout the next hour or so, I noticed a lot of very unflattering things go on, none more so than when my little blonde hair cutie disappeared with two very scantily clad women into the men's room. I was pissed off, to say the very least. Of course, what did I expect, really? I mean, the guy's an international pop star. He's bound to be a dog right? Right! So, I turned my attentions away from the louse, watching carefully everything else go on. Justin getting drunk, three girls hanging all over him, Joey kept coming and going from the back room, rubbing his nose and carrying on with a different girl every time, Chris was chatting up some woman, while JC kept himself on the dance floor, grinding against anything with an ass. It was a slap in the face as far as reality goes. When the midnight hour approached, I begged for a drink. My entire body was so warm, I kept glancing over at the other girl who was so smacked out of her mind, it was scary. She was not even really dancing, just swaying kind of. No one cared. It wasn't the kind of party that someone would. My bouncer grumbled something and went off to fetch me a water. We had strict instructions that when a slow song came on, we were to sit on these little benchs. Actually, it was more like a swing. I felt like fucking Tweety Bird. Nevertheless, my water arrived, and a slow song played, so I sat down, thankful for the break. That's when I saw him again. This time he was alone, his eyes were glassy, though. I never, ever was into druggies, I don't care how cute a guy is. Drugs are a no-no in my book, but still, the way his eyes caught the light or something, it just drew me right into him. Like a trance or something. I still can't explain it, but he stared up at me in that little cage and smiled. I was done for. I thought my chest would explode when he sauntered over. He leaned into my bouncer and said something, then the bouncer nodded to me and moved to the side. That's when he spoke, and I lost myself for good. It was small talk, chit chat. What's your name kind of stuff. He wanted to dance with me, so I told him I couldn't. The bouncer nearly jumped out of his skin, and grabbed me from the cage, placing me down on the dance floor next to him. I was guessing that since Lance was a guest of honor, dancing with him was required. He was high, for sure, and quite confindant in himself. He smelled like beer and cologne, and I tried really hard to keep my distance. The very last thing I needed was for him to assume I was going to disappear in the bathroom with him for any reason. But he held me tight and didn't talk. Not a word, just rocked back and forth to the music. Everytime I looked at him, he had a grin on his face, a devestatingly sexy one. Okay, well, that was it, drugs or not, I had fallen into something that I couldn't get out of. Now, of course, it's such a different story. After that night, he invited me back to his hotel room. I declined. I was a proper lady. He wasn't thrilled with my decline, but agreed to go out for coffee with me. We talked into the night, and when the sun rose, he was by my side, sobering and still handsome. He'd turned his cell off, which for him is a true feat, and he held my hand, even going so far as to kiss me rather chastly. So, we dated, on and off. Everytime I watched a television show with him on, he'd deny seeing anyone in particular, which at first cut me, then I realized we weren't that serious. I had no beef with it. I wanted it to be more, he didn't. It hurt, but hell, I was dating one of the hottest men in the music business, so what could be better. The visits were frequent. I'd fly out and meet him for the weekend, or attend awards shows when he felt like asking me and not his mother. (Oh, that's a whole other story. Mamma's boy does not begin to describe him) He was tender and loving, sweet and funny. The drugs didn't stop, although they weren't constant, they were enough to put me off. Many nights were spent aruging the point, him becoming defensive, and me tearing into him trying to convey that I only cared. Well, that to him meant nagging, and with four other guys on his side, I quickly became that clingy girl that no one cared to deal with. Fuck them all, or so I thought. I mean, I loved Lance, truly, and no matter what, I cared enough to tell him like it was. The cheating, well, that was another side of it. What can you do when you're sitting at home and your man is in a different city every night, groupies hanging from every angle, naked, half naked, willing to do anything just to meet or touch them. Shit, it's like nothing I ever saw. You'd think a pop group would have more tame fans, but it's just the opposite. And you can never tell who's of age anyway. I've seen each one of them make that mistake, finding out afterwards that the girl they thought was 18 was really 17 or 16. Not a good scene. I wasn't a goody-goody, by any means, but really! It got so bad for poor JC that soon he wouldn't even consider anyone who didn't look at least 30. But Lance, I imagined he'd be immune to it. Actually, I hoped he'd be immune to it. I know, it was a romantic idea, totally unrealistic, but somewhere deep down, I wanted it to be true. I think he did to, but the temptation was too great. The first time he fooled around with another girl, he called me, drunk and crying at three in the morning my time, sniffling and babbling about how I needed to get on a plane right away and fly out to see him. I was scared shitless, he wouldn't tell me what was going on. When the six hour flight finally deposited me at the airport, he was nowhere to be found, forcing me to take a cab to his hotel. Then, he was sound asleep when I rang his room to come up. He didn't even remember calling me. That was pretty pitiful. He did admit his indiscretions to me, and I forgave him. I held him the rest of the night, into early afternoon, and when he woke, we made love. It made him feel better, me feel worse. I just couldn't trust myself with him. When those big green eyes stare at me with such emotion, I was useless. I remember returning from that trip extemely unsettled. I wanted to believe he wouldn't succomb again, but deep down I knew he would. With no commitment in sight, it was difficult to think otherwise. He vowed to be faithful to me, but he said he just didn't like to put a label on the relationship. Oh, and he still didn't say the L word. About 4 months into our "relationship", MTV was having another private party, and I was asked to return based on the compliments I'd received at the N Sync one. Who was I to say no? The money was obscene, so I agreed to it. As it turned out, it was for another pop group, and Lance caught wind of it, forbidding me to attend. I was shocked at this outburst. He'd never struck me as jealous so I was baffled. Carrie said this was it, the perfect time to demand a label for us. I was hesitant about cornering the guy, but was falling so hard, I knew I could get really hurt if he didn't declare some kind of love for me soon. I told Lance, in my bravest voice, that I was indeed going to work that night because I could use the money for school, and I had a good time at the other one. He very coldly replied if I worked that party, he would have nothing to do with me afterwards. So, I hung up, surprising even myself at my nerve, and spent the rest of the night crying my eyes out, leaving them so swollen in the morning, I stayed home from classes. He didn't call back to apologize or work it out, leaving me to think maybe he really didn't give two shits about me the way I did about him. Finally, that evening he called. He was still cold, but wanted to try to talk it out. It was nearing the holiday season, and he said he envisioned us together for it, making my heart leap. I never doubted his words, ever. I accepted them as I did most things in my life, for face value. Trusting people was something that I always promised myself I'd work on, or rather not trusting them so easlily. Lance called me a silly girl, he said being so trusting was a gift, pure in and of itself, and that I should never loose it. Little did I know he was merely securing his position. We talked, nothing got settled, but we both felt better, and he asked me to join him for a northeast tour they were doing. That meant well over a week with him. I accepted, forgetting all about my classes, and slept that night with a huge smile on my face. The northeast tour was the turning point, in my life, and in his. I flew out to meet him in Pennsylvania and he met me at the airport. I recall how thrilled I was to see him, and he scooped me up in a bear hug and held me tightly. I could tell he was high, but it didn't matter. I wasn't about to start a fight with him, not now. It meant too much to me to be in his arms again. He liked to call me booty bear, because of my, umm, my perky rear end. He said although he wasn't a 'butt' man, per say, mine could make him change his mind. So, anyway, he gave me a teddy bear dressed in the exact same outfit he first met me in. I didn't know if I should be offended or honored. Lance was always like that, confusing me. We spent the night together, making love and cuddling. At the show, I stayed mostly to myself, or talked only to rest of the group, or their girlfriends. They kept making remarks about how much Lance cared about me, and how excited he'd been for me to get there. I ate it all up, hook, line, and sinker. Like I said, I trusted people way too much. New York was next, and that was the most fun we'd ever had as a couple. We managed to get out. Lance always loved NYC, because he said it was the only place people didn't give a crap who he was. He could go to dinner or a movie and not be bothered too much. So, we lived it up, cuddling on the streets, holding hands, seeing the sights we had each seen hundreds of times before, but never together. JC and his girlfriend joined us a few times. His mom was a morning show taping, and that was nice. We had a lovely talk, and she admitted how good she thought I was for her son. The beam on my face could not have been much brighter, and during the commercial break, Lance ran up the steps and planted a possesive kiss on my lips, right in front of everyone. I took it as a sign we were getting more serious. That was the last nice thing I recall. The rest of the northeast tour went straight to shit. That night, after the show, I moved around backstage, feeling confident and secure for the first time in months. I found Lance signing the front of a woman's thong while she ran her hands through his hair, something that is not at all right! I think the worst part was when our eyes met, he just smiled and shrugged. I acted a bit immaturely, running down the hall, and smacked into Justin, sending us both sprawling to the floor. Justin was always the nicest one to me. I think it's because he was in a relationship that he genuinely cared about for the first time in his life, and wanted all his friends to have that same thing. He took good care of me that night, and while at the time it seemed like a good idea, it just sent Lance over the proverbial edge. He was jealous and pissy and continued to chat up the women to get back at me, or something. He shot me evil looks for the rest of the night, and took off without me to the after pary. Those damn parties are crazy and that's where the trouble started to get worse. Lance never called, or even came back to the hotel that night. I was worried sick. Joey came in around five and banged on my door, drunk, telling me not to worry at all, that Lance was in good hands. The obvious snicker and look in his eyes told me more than I wanted to hear. I cried, pretty hard, and packed my stuff, angry and hurt, but most of all betrayed. I left my room key on the nightstand and hurried to the lobby. Just as I was calling for a cab, Lance strolled in, looking like hell. It's hard for him to ever look like hell, because even when he's sick, he looks adorable. I couldn't even speak to him, so I ignored his presence and waited on the bench in the lobby for my ride. He begged me to let him take me to the airport, and admitted we had some issues. He also told me for the first time that he did love me, and although he'd had the chance to sleep with some girls that night, he couldn't get me out of his mind. Okay, well peg me the asshole, I said he could drive me to the airport, but that I needed time to think about it. He got the keys to the group van they rented and we took off. We never did make it to that airport. I only remember him crying, chanting how sorry he was. I don't recall the alcohol on his breath, or that last snort of coke he did. The van just crashed, right into the guardrail. I was out immediately, and only know this from seeing the replay. I've seen it so many times, but it always looks like a television show or something. I can't believe I lived it. The van rolled four times before sliding down an embankment. The funny thing is, if Lance wasn't so fucked up on drugs and booze, he probably would be here with me now. The medics said he was so relaxed, he didn't tense when the crash happened. As for me, I watch my face, how it contorted in pain and fright. Thankfully, my head hit hard, causing me to black out. From what I see, it could have been a terribly painful death otherwise. Lance did have bruised ribs, a broken collarbone, and tons of scratches, but other than that, was fine. He did try to save me, in his injured state. The cops didn't charge him, since he was so distraught, oh, and famous. The police did accept free backstage passes for their teen age girls, though, and tickets. He got off pretty good, don't you think? My family did sue him, wrongful death, but they settled out of court. Let's just say, Mr. Bass has a much lighter wallet now. It didn't affect N Sync. I'm kind of glad for that. They covered it up as a horrible accident, and had full media coverage of my funeral. Ironically, Joey appeared the most torn up over it, even though we never got along well. But Lance got all the sympathy in the world. Management did cancel the rest of the tour, and sent their five boys to rehabs and counseling programs, determined to teach them a lesson. Joey was out in less than four days, Justin made it to a week, JC and Chris were at a month, but Lance? He surprised me staying in the full 6 weeks. I'm proud to say that he's clean now, no recreational drugs and only social drinking. He comes to my grave every chance he gets and proclaims that while he took my life, I saved his. He brings me flowers and has started a foundation in my name, sitting at the head of it. He donates college funds in my name every year, and does a lot of free publicity against drinking and driving. I made it to heavan, where I'm still in love with the guy. Heaven sure doesn't squash those feelings, it just makes them more innocent. I'm assigned to him, as I found out I had been on earth. That had been my reason for being, to eventually save this Mississippi boy. I did, and can say it was my greatest accomplishment. He'll have a wonderful life now. There's a woman in North Carolina waiting for him to find and marry her. He'll have his little boy and little girl, and live a peaceful life. When he does die, I'll be here for him, to guide him some more. I know that everynight when he stares into the stars and thinks of me, he knows I'm watching over him, and his smiles are getting more and more frequent. Smiles are precious, and his mean everything to me, to us all! |
| LOST IN LOVE by destiny |