| FOUR |
| Joey moaned as the maid attended to him. He didn't care that they were in the broom closet with the door half open. This woman had talent, seriously, and he would know. He'd been blown by the best of them. From the distance, he heard arguing, Lance and Justin. He grabbed at the maid's head, and pushed her down harder. "C'mon," he slurred, the beers he'd consumed affecting his speech. "Hurry the fuck up." Her head bobbed quicker and he felt the familiar feelings wash over his body. "Motherfucker," he grunted, spewing into her mouth. Sighing heavily, he heard the voices come closer, so he zipped up, pushing the maid aside as he stood. Whatever they were fighting about sounded interesting, and he was anxious to find out more. Without another word to the naked woman keeling on the floor, he stepped around her and pushed the door open. "Hey," he shouted, watching the two angry singers heading down the hall. "What up little men?" Lance stared at Joey, his hair disheveled and a petite woman dressing quickly behind him. He grinned lewdly. "Action Jackson stikes again. Why is it you won't fuck in your own bed?" Joey shrugged, fastening his belt. "Dunno. Beds are for sleeping, or for love making, neither of which I was in the mood to do." He snickered at the thought. "So what the hell are you two carrying on about?" The maid slipped out, her uniform askew, and Joey smacked her ass as she hurried by, a deep blush covering her face as she made her way by Lance and Justin. "Chris fucking over dosed again," Lance sighed. "And this jerk called JC." "Hell, man, why'd you do that? You know JC is going to have a fucking baby now. And we're all gonna be on his shit list." Justin glared at them. "Oh shut up! You two know nothing. You couldn't find your way out of a maze if you had a map. At least JC has his shit together." He hung his head a bit, thinking. "More than me, at least." Lance crossed the hallway and shoved Justin playfully. "Come on, don't start getting depressed now, J. Chris will be fine, we'll catch a new sermon from Father JC, and get on with it." He raised his eyebrows at Joey. "Right?" Joey nodded, yawning. "So, Chris did it again, huh? He really should just have sex more. I think that'd cure him of this habit." Justin forced a smile, kicking his sneakers off. "I'm hitting," he said. "If there's any change, will one of you come and get me?" Lance nodded. "Hey, man, I am sorry about before. Yelling at you. I just got scared." "It's fine," Justin replied, heading inside for some serious sleep. "What about you? You going to bed?" Lance was feeling antsy, his adreneline racing furiously. Joey shrugged with a devilish grin. "Why? You wanna do something?" "I was thinking dip in the hot tub. I'm fucking stressed." He ran his fingers through his flat blonde spikes and rubbed at his eyes. It was too much, the day. A nice hot soak would do him well. "Nah, not tonight. I need some sleep. Are we still on schedule to leave in the morning?" "Who knows? If Chris gets released, maybe. But even then, JC will have us doing something." He rolled his eyes and fished his key card out, planning on changing before taking his soak. "So..." Joey nodded. "All right, man. See you later." He disappeared inside his room and socked out on his bed. Lance used the bathroom, checked his voice mail, then changed into his bathing suit and headed down to the hot tub. It was empty at this late hour, and he was glad for the peace and quiet. Chris had really been out of line tonight, and he knew that they would need to clean him up if they hoped to record the new album for a late spring, early summer tour. Frustrated, he stepped into the hot water. A solitary light cast a moonlight type glow across the small room, and Lance sank back into the water, letting the jets attack his sore muscles. His eyes closed and he let his mind wander to the beautiful stripper he'd been with. It was getting too easy to pull in women, there was no challenge for him anymore. Gone were the good boy days of shyness, and awkward nature. He chuckled as he remembered blushing at the sight of a pretty woman, having his stomach knot up in nerves when she approached. Oh, it had taken him time to learn the game, ignore his morals, and dive into the fun. Sometimes he tired of it, and during those times, he usually became celibate for a bit, and started a new business venture. But the mind of it's own penis always got its way again, sooner rather than later, and he'd cruise about, picking up whatever girl caught his fancy. "Mind if I join you?" The sultry voice caught Lance off guard, and his eyes opened slowly. His gaze strayed over the woman before him, and he shook his head, unmoving. She'd just have to climb her lithe body over him to get in, and he knew the lusty look in her eyes was not being misread. The 5'10" blonde tossed her towel down, eyeing the boy toy in the water. She'd known just when to strike, having baded her time well. N Sync or not, this guy was phenominal looking, and she planned to have him any which way she could. Lance rested his arms on the lip of the hot tub, the stripper already a forgotten memory. Damn, would she count as three today? Or did it only make two since it was past midnight. His eyes slanted as she removed her bikini, tossing it in his face. He grinned up at her, a hardness growing immediately. He was not a neanderthal, however, and extended his hand to her, assisting her in the water. She sat on his lap, her lips assaulting his neck, devouring his flesh with hot nibbles and kisses. His hands roamed her nakedness, not at all in the mood for fucking, not now. A little lip service was all he craved, and he pushed himself up out of the tub, forcing her mouth down on him. He was in a mood, and cursed Chris under his breath. How could he enjoy this with that looming over his head. She had some moves, though. Despite her valient efforts, his hard on was deflating, and he shoved her aside, unapologetically. "If I hear about this anywhere, on the fucking internet, a tabloid rag, anywhere, you're done for." It was a threat, but he didn't recognize his own voice as he said it. He was ashamed that he'd been reduced to this. She stared up at him, and wiped the back of her hand with her mouth. "I could come upstairs with you," she offered, sensing his dissatisfaction. "I could make you cum. I can." He stepped up, not angry with her, but with himself. "No, thanks." His tone softened. "I'm not in the mood I guess. My friend is sick, and I guess my head's not in the game." This had never happened to him before, and he was pissed. Having this little tart run to the media wouldn't do, though, so he poured on his Southern charm. "Can I meet you for breakfast in the morning?" he offered, winking at her. "Maybe we could try again." Her smile brightened, and she climbed out after him, feeling special. "Of course. I'm in 221. Ring me when you're ready." Lance's fingers clutched her chin, and he drew her near, kissing her pouty lips roughly. "I'll be ready to give you the ride of your life, so rest up." She gasped under his control, and when he backed up, her body swayed slightly. Lance headed back up to his room where he could jerk off on his own dime, and go to sleep, and try to forget the humiliation he felt inside. "Chris, you fucker," he seethed, sure that this was the cause of his embarassent. As soon as he was in the darkness of the hotel bed, he satisfied himself, and fell asleep. ******************************************************************************************** JC sat beside Chris bed, glaring at him. The doctors were finishing their history and signing him out. His head spun wildly, and he wished he was dead. As soon as the small army of medics left, JC laid into him. "What the hell is with you?" Chris covered his ears in pain. "God, JC, quiet down." "Oh no. Justin showed me what you had. Why? Why do you do this?" Chris rolled over, facing away from JC and his accusing eyes. He felt like shit as it was, and knew the consequences of his actions would be stiff, from his friends, and the media. It was all her fault, anyway, leaving him like she did. And then he got wasted and went on Larry King, spilling it out for everyone to see, including her. He wanted to hide away, escape from the reality that he couldn't love anyone. Drugs were as good a way as any, right? But he'd bought shit off the street, and when he handed the money over, the man had sneered at him. It made Chris uneasy and Justin's warnings rang in his mind. If you have to do this, at least buy from who you know. Don't take that crap on the street. You never know what they do to it. Chris felt foolish. Christ, he was about to turn 30 and a fucking 19 year old kid was smarter than he was. "JC, I'm sorry," he whispered, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, well, hopefully no one got wind of this." JC was tired, and so fed up. He just wanted to get the hell out of Los Angeles and back to Orlando where they could scatter, and for a while he wouldn't have to worry every fucking night. He would worry, though, since the new album was on the line, and he had three sex hounds and one druggie to deal with. Some nights, he just wanted to run away from it all, give it up and just focus on producing. This N Sync shit was too hard, way too hard, and he felt as if he was the only one trying. "Get dressed," JC said softly, handing Chris his discarded clothes. "Let's go back to the hotel. We're going home in the morning." Chris nodded, feeling like a child being scolded by a disappointed mother. He slowly pulled the hospital gown off and dressed, his back turned to JC. That's when he heard the sobs, small whimpers that were coming from JC, the rock of the group. "God, JC?" JC's shoulders shook as his hands cradled his head. He hated to break down, but he was not happy, not at all. "What? I'm fine." He sniffled loudly, and Chris tugged his jeans up, zipping them before heading over. "Damn, man, don't let us do this to you. Shit, we'll get better, I promise you." JC let out a bitter laugh. "You would think you four would have your shit together now!" he exclaimed. "Don't I know it!" Chris agreed, placing his baseball cap on. "Come on, let's go." He guided JC out the back entrance and into the waiting car. Thankfully, no fans were about. JC fell asleep on Chris' shoulder, and Chris let him. He owed the guy that, at least. |