| FIVE |
| Justin heard the footsteps falling down the hall, and assumed it was JC and Chris heading back, at least he hoped that's who it was. He constantly feared fans finding their way up to his room, attacking him or worse. He rolled onto his side and glanced at the clock. It blared back at him, taunting his insomnia. "Jesus," he grimaced, watching the little red digits turn from 3:59 to 4:00. This was insane. He kicked the covers off and sat up, shivering in the air conditioned hotel room. He wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing as his teeth chattered. He blindly reached for his shirt, and finding it, tossed it over his head. Justin stumbled over his sneakers, his baby toe crying out in pain as it stubbed against one of them. He growled in frustration and pain, wondering if he would ever learn not to leave the fucking things right under his bed. Limping slightly, he headed for the window, and the damn air conditioning that was blasting the offensive chill into his bones. Standing over the mechanism, he held his hand out, feeling nothing. He squinted in the darkness of the room, and pryed the heavy drapes back a little to get a better look. The switch was off, so the chill he felt was not from air conditioning. His teeth mashed together in an attempt to stop the chattering.. Heading for the bathroom, he switched on the light, avoiding his reflection in the mirror. His toiletry bag sat on the sink, and he leaned in, grabbing a bottle of Halcion and stared blankly at it. After Chris' drug episode, he was more than a bit hesitant to take any drugs, legal or not. Suffering from insomnia was a medical condition, he reasoned, popping off the top and gazing down into the bottle. And management had gotten them for him, to help him sleep. At first, when Justin first complained about not being able to sleep, everyone chalked it up to the intense adreneline rush perfoming live created. After a few miserable nights, and even worse days, he'd fallen asleep during a costume change, right on his feet. That's when the pills were given to him, shoved down his throat, literally, by JC and an angered road manager. Justin gingerly took one out and studied it. They made him sleep, well that one time he'd taken it. But, he didn't wake up in the morning. He couldn't pull himself out of the weighted down slumber that cascaded over his body, and Lance had thrown ice cold water in his face, fearing he was dead. Shaking his head, Justin placed the pill in his mouth, his eyes burning and begging for some kind of rest. He swallowed it down with a glass of water and sighed. He finally caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and laughed bitterly. He looked like shit, plain and simple shit. His blue eyes were dull and his hair stood up on end. Even his body was suffering from lack of sleep, the once finely toned abs now faded, not completely gone, but not as sharp as they had been. Depression overcame him, and he wanted to cry, sob like a baby. Guilt forced him to stay dry though. How could he complain when he had so much, and others had so little. JC was so much better than he was, and while playing with Lance and Joey was fun, well, it wasn't real. "Stop your whining," the reflection scolded. Justin blinked hard, wiping his eyes. Did he just say that? Oh, man, he needed sleep, and bad. Switching the light out, he headed back for bed, goosebumps rising as he entered the room. Slipping down into the chilly sheets, he curled into a fetal position, and hoped someone would wake him. He knew for sure the Halcion would knock him on his ass, and an eight am wake up call was useless. ********************************************************************************************* Lance woke with a start, having slept through both an alarm and a wake up call. He glanced at the clock and groaned. "Fuck," he muttered in disgust, throwing himself back on the pillow, letting his eyes shut, just for one more minute, just one more second of.... ........"Lance, open it up, dude. Time to head on outta this joint." Was that Chris' cheery voice? Christ, the guy had almost fucking died the night before, now he was standing outside in a sing songy voice waking him up? Unbelievable. Lance had to chuckle at the pure craziness. He was really ready to head back to Florida, or Mississippi, or maybe Cancun for a little R&R. Ah, Cancun. He smiled at the memories of the last time he'd been there, the sultry heat and the naked women. "Laaaance!" "Coming!" he snapped, pushing back the delightful images and trudging to the door. Chris thrust a paper cup full of steaming coffee into his hands and a bag. "What's this for?" Lance asked, raising his eyebrow skeptically. Chris never delivered breakfast. Never, not once in the entire history of N Sync. JC had done it, he had too, even Justin had pulled his ass out of bed once or twice to be nice. But Chris? Naw, he was the oldest, and never let them forget it. Chris grinned back, and by looking at him, you would never know the brink he'd tettered on just hours before. "Just to say sorry, and all. I am, Lance, and I'm going to really try to get my shit together." Lance nodded sympathetically, not believing him, not at all. He'd heard it before. Chris was a junkie, in the truiest sense of the word. Chris giving up drugs would be like, oh, hell, like Joey giving up blow jobs. It just would never happen, ever. "Thanks, man," he said, anyway, sipping at the hot liquid. "Is everyone else ready to get the hell out of this town?" Chris shrugged. "Joey's up, I'm heading to Justin's now." He held up a hot chocolate and a bagel, proud of himself. "I guess we go in like five, so I'll see you down there." Lance pressed his eyes shut and nodded again, thinking briefly of the woman from the hot tub. Oh, shit, what room was she in? Wasn't he supposed to meet her or something? He gritted his teeth and backed inside his room, tossing his bagel onto the bed. He was in some true trouble if she was stood up and decided on talking about his little lack of performance. JC would really freak out then. "Dammit!" he said, angry wth himself for getting into yet another situation. ******************************************************************************************** Chris knocked on Justin's door, waving to a member of their security team as he headed toward the elevator. He felt good, damn good, and positive he would be able to kick his nasty habit for good this time. No woman was worth it, he reasoned. Sure, he'd dabbled in drugs even while he was with her, much to her continued disgust, but it was never this bad. He just needed to heal, that's all. He kicked at Justin's door after another minute or two. "Justin, man, get the hell up." Joey sauntered down the hall behind him, grinning. "Pretty boy still crashed out?" Chris nodded. "Yeah, and our flight leaves soon." "Hold up," Joey said, catching the eye of the maid who had serviced him the previous night. He slid over to her smoothly, and smiled, touching her cheek in a flirtatious manner. "Be a peach and open this door, sweetheart?" After her less than satisfying experience with the Italian god, she was incensed that her attraction to him was still undeniable, and she gazed up at him adoringly. "Sure," she smiled as he winked at her, landing his large hand on her tiny bottem, and giving a squeeze for the hell of it. She slipped the master key in, and stood aside while Chris and Joey entered the dark room. "Christ, he's still asleep," Joey chuckled, shutting the door in the maid's face abruptly. Justin would be pissed if he woke to see a strange girl gawking at him. Without warning, Joey jumped on Justin's bed, hopping up and down. "Get up, Justin. Up, up, up!" Chris studied the sleeping singer with concern. He wasn't moving. "Joe, stop," he warned, slapping at his legs. "Get off. He's really out." Joey obliged with a shrug. He pulled back the drapes, sure the bright sun would wake up sleeping beauty. Nothing, the sun streamed right in on him, and any other morning, they'd both have to run to escape Justin's wrath. "What's up?" Joey asked, confused. "Check his bathroom. Pack his shit." Chris didn't like this, not one bit. He leaned over Justin, glad to hear a tiny snore fall from his mouth. "At least he's alive," he said dryly. "Justin?" He shook the younger man hard. "J? Man, get up." Joey emerged, the bottle of Halcion in his hands. "He took his sleeping pills, finally," he laughed, shaking his head. They'd bugged him throughout the tour to take the fucking things. Now he took them, now that the tour was over. Stupid! Chris sighed, put the hot cocoa down along with the bagel and yanked Justin up. "Come on, J. Time to get up." He slapped Justin's face lightly to no avail. "Joe, get Lance. He's good with this shit." Joey wandered off, discouraged to see the maid still standing guard outside the room. He frowned as he strolled down to Lance's room, wondering if she expected him to do something. He assumed she knew the deal. She'd been lucky enough to have a piece of him, surely she didn't want more. He glanced over his shoulder at her, at the glimmer of hope in her eyes, her hands folded together. He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking about it, and slammed right into Lance, causing hot coffee to spill on them both. "Fuckin A!" Lance screamed, annoyed with this entire stay here in LA, awards or not. It had been a hellacious time, and he was ready to go, go, go. "Joey!" he muttered. "Sorry?" he ventured, ignoring the gentle eyes that gazed at him from behind. "Chris needs your help. Justin took Halcion and is out of it. He said you know what to do?" Lance pressed his lips together. First no time for a shower, now this. He shook his head and made his way into the hotel room, where Chris had Justin propped up against the headboard, slapping him silly. "Don't," Lance warned, stepping in. "Get ice water," he instructed. Joey handed him some, and Lance stuck his hand in, a headache forming behind his eyes. This was the last thing he needed today, a drug induced stupor from Justin. He smattered the icy water onto Justin's face for some time before the deep blue eyes opened groggily. "Welcome back." Lance said, wryly. Justin blinked a few times, trying to focus on his suroundings. His mind was hazy, and the room was a blur at best. "God, what time is it?" he gasped, having lost all sense of time and space. "It's after nine. J, we gotta go. Can you get dressed?" Chris pushed the cup of hot cocoa into his hands, hoping what little caffeine was in it would jolt him awake. Justin nodded, rubbing his eyes hard. "The Halcion," he whispered, as if some explanation was needed. He didn't want this anymore, it was too much for his body to take. He needed to sleep, and rest, and fuck, just be. Tears burned in his eyes, and he dug his fists into them to hide. Joey exited quietly, never one to handle crying spells. He was of the point of veiw that men didn't cry, and stuck to his guns with it. Lance's mouth fell open when he heard the sniffle. The last thing he needed right now was to play councelor to Justin. Normally he didn't mind, but not today, not this morning. Chris wrapped his arm around Jusitn without hesitation, nodding toward Lance, who started to gather up Justin's things. They were never going to make their plane. Never, not a chance, and where the hell was JC? No one had even seen him yet. "It's alright man," Chris consoled him. "You're just coming out of the stupor. It doesn't mean anything." Justin wiped the back of his nose with his arm. These feelings would go away? Is that what Chris was saying? His depression and weariness would disappate when the Halcion kicked from his system? He sure hoped so, but it was more than the drug, way more. He glanced at Lance, who was busy shoving his life into a duffle bag, avoiding him. Oh, that's it. As usual, eveyone was walking around their problems. Yeah, great way to start off 2001. |