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| Somehow the quietness of the moment was being lost on Lance. It was too silent, and for so long his world had consisted of four other guys, all clamoring for attention, several road crew, all screaming at one another, and the fans, all crying and shouting for recognition. So, the stillness of the Mississippi morning was eeire to him, unnatural and frightening. He pulled his comforter tightly around him, straining to hear something, anything. A lawnmower, the ticking of a clock, a ringing phone, rustlings of his ferret in his cage. But there was nothing. Tears burned his eyes for reasons unknown. He'd looked so forward to this time, when the tour was officially over and he could lie in bed for hours and not have to get up and do morning shows, or get on the bus, or keep a schedule. Shit, he'd daydreamed daily about it while finishing up the tour, but now it was here, and not at all pleasant. The Dr. Suess alarm clock was digital, thus no sound, and he peered over at it. Only eight am. By all rights, he should still be sleeping, dreaming relaxing things, reveling in the endless time he had. 8:01, the numbers changed slowly, and he stared at them, hypnotized by the red digits. He smiled, pressing the tears away, remembering the fan on tour who had given him the clock. She was 15 or 16 he guessed, with bright blue eyes and tears that wouldn't stop. He hugged her graciously, and she clung to him for several minutes, dampening his shirt. He held her, appreciative of the gesture. The last thing he would ever do was push a fan away, especially one who'd stood out in the freezing cold just to give him a gift. One more glance at the clock, and he sighed. 8:03. Idilly, he wondered what the other guys were doing. No doubt, JC was in a studio somewhere, maybe NYC, maybe Florida, recording vocal ideas for N Sync, or for other artists. That guy never quit. And Justin was most likely crashed out, wherever he was. Sleeping soundly, a smile in place, dreaming of the silence, the silence that Lance hated right now. Chris was with his girlfriend, cuddled up, loving life. And Joey, well, he could be anywhere, doing anything. That free spirit of his was contagious. Lance rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up, propping several pillows behind him. Reaching for the remote, he clicked the television on, surfing aimlessly through the channels. It was something he hadn't gotten much of a chance to do lately. Leaning back, he amused himself with Looney Tunes, then MTV, some Rosie for good measure. His stomach rumbled loudly, and he grinned. No room service here. Climbing from bed, he hit the bathroom first, then sauntered on down to his kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator. Not much to see. Some beer, old pizza, and a few Chinese food cartons. Shaking his head, he shut the door and scratched his stomach, shivering. The sunlight was shining in, forcing the early morning fog away. Lance went to the living room and peered out the bay window, squinting. The sprinklers weren't on. They were on a timer, so they should be on. "That's weird," he sighed, reaching in the hall closet for a jacket. Pajama bottems would just have to do. Hopefully, his neighbors would all be at work, or still asleep. He shut the alarm system down and tugged the oak door open, stepping out into the chilly air. Looking around, he didn't see anyone, and smiled a little. The hose looked connected, but no water. Heading for the side of the house, he twisted the water knob. Glancing behind him to the lawn, he shook his head when nothing happened. "Hmm," he sighed, twisting it again. Still nothing. Frustrated, he began to head back inside when he noticed a car pull into his driveway. Instantly, he recognized it as Justin's. "What's he doing here?" he muttered, staring hard. "Hey!" Justin called out the drivers window. "Hey yourself!" Lance called back, rubbing his arms to keep warm. "What are you doing here?" Justin smiled brightly, and hopped out of the car, brown paper bag in his arms. "You're not going to believe this," he started, stepping up the stone stairs leading to the front of the house. "I was lonely!" Lance laughed, his eyes shining. "What?" he cried, unable to comprehend it. "Lonely?" Justin nodded, pushing past his friend and letting himself into the house. "Yup. I got thinking last night, about how quiet it was and when I couldn't take it anymore, I got in my car and started to drive. I ended up here." Lance trailed him inside, still shocked at the erratic actions. Sure, he'd been lonely as well, but he wouldn't have driven all that way from Florida to Mississippi just because he was lonely. Justin deposited his bag on the kitchen counter and began to unload the food he'd bought on the way. "Hungry?" "Justin, why are you really here?" Lance asked, stooping to pick up a fallen apple. He rubbed the fruit on his jacket and took a big bite, savoring the flavor. "I told you," he replied, continuing his task. Lance narrowed his eyes, and helped Justin unpack the rest of the contents, bagels, coffee, chips, cereal, milk, fruits, muffins, and soda. "You drove all the way from Florida here just becasue you were lonely? You, who has hundreds of friends there, not to mention your family right in the same house. Oh, come on!" Justin frowned, not liking the way Lance was prying. Several years of traveling together did lead to few secrets, but it was just plain annoying how Lance read him right, every fucking time. "Should I leave?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can go." "No, of course not," Lance said, tilting his head. Something was amiss, not right. "Stay as long as you like. I was just saying..." "Well, don't," Justin snapped. He busied himself with pouring some juice into a cup and ignored Lance's stare. It hadn't been easy to just arrive unannouced. "Sorry," Lance sighed. "Are you here for a while or going right back?" Justin shrugged and slammed his juice. He didn't know what the hell he was doing at all. Time to think while he was driving shed no light on his situation, and he'd hoped it would. How could he tell Lance what he was doing when he didn't know himself? Running away from problems wasn't something Lance did, only him. And barging in on his friend's free time when they'd so desperately needed it was rude, damn, he knew that too. Placing the empty cup in the sink, he forced a smile. "Can I shower?" "Sure," Lance said, eyeing him. "You know where it is." He watched Justin bounce up the stairs before he frowned. Whatever was going on had to be major for him to come all this way. Raching for the phone, he dialed Justin's house, hoping to speak with his mom and figure this all out. Unfortuantely there was no answer, so peeking up the stairs, just to be sure he was still showering, Lance dialed JC's cell. "What?" the grumpy voice answered. "JC, what's with you?" "Sorry, just trying to sleep and NO ONE WILL LET ME!" He screamed the last part of the sentence, causing Lance to hold the phone away from his ear. "What's up?" Lance shook his head. Touring or not, JC was a beast in the morning. "Justin's here," he stated. "So?" In the background, Lance could make out banging pots and pans, and he wondered what JC's girlfriend was doing. "Hey! Knock off the noise now!" he shouted once more. "So? He drove from Florida all night to get here, that's what's so." Lance was becoming exasperated. Only away from one another for a couple weeks and strange things were cropping up. "Hello? You don't think that's a bit fucked up?" "Lance, look. J is a baby. You know that. He's a whiner and when things don't go his way he runs. His mom probably forgot to stock the place with cereal or something stupid." "JC, I don't think so. It's a long drive just for that. I mean..." "Fucking stop that shit now!" JC yelled again, not bothering to cover the phone. "Lance, I gotta go. Murder is still illegal right?" He clicked off the phone, leaving Lance to only imagine the fight that was about to occur in JC's house. "Great," he sighed, placing the phone in it's cradle. Well, Justin was his friend, so whatever he needed, he was going to help. With Christmas fast approaching, he figured Justin would head home, a big family person. So until then, he could stand the company. |