| The therapist sat in his overpriced black leather chair, staring at the five young men in front of him. They sat, carefully avoiding eye contact, and set in very defensive positions. The therapist took a deep breath. They'd been in his office just over ten minutes, and not so much as a peep out of them. It was going to be a lot harder than he thought. What could make five best friends turn on one another with the ferocity that they had? The therapist didn't know, but their manager had dragged them in, pleading with him to fix N Sync, make them normal again. He didn't know if he could. There seemed to be a lot of emotional damage done, and before him, five very exhaused singers. "So, why don't we try to talk out some issues?" The therapist cleared his throat, glancing at the clock. "We have 50 minutes left, so let's try this alright?" Five pairs of eyes diverted their gaze, making him sigh. "Look, you have to do this. Let's start with Chris, since he's the oldest." He shifted in his chair to face the eldest N Syncer. "Now, tell me what causes you to argue with your group mates?" Chris shrugged. He was seated on a large couch inbetween Joey and Lance. He refused to look anywhere but at his new shoes, which were moving back and forth with boredom. The therapist sighed once more. "Chris, I know there are things bothering you about them, and we need to get this out. Now please." "I don't know," Chris replied, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling fan. "What do you want me to say?" "I want you to say how you're feeling about, let's say, Joey first." Joey sat up straighter, interested to hear what Chris would say. Things had been particularly strained between them, often causing fights among the rest of the group. Chris could feel Joey's stare blazing into him, and it made him angry. "Alright. To start off with, I'm sick of him bringing groupies on the bus every night. It's gross." "Hey, I don't do that!" Joey defended himself. Lance shook his head. "Yeah, you do. And I agree with Chris on that. It is annoying. They finish with you, then hound us." Joey folded his arms over his chest. "How come you never complain to my face then?" Justin stood up and crossed the room to the window. "We do, all the time. You just ignore us." Joey brooded silently, letting the therapist continue. "Okay, so we know that bringing girls on the bus aggrivates your friends. Now let's move on to Joey. You tell me something that you're less than happy with." "I hate when Justin gets moody and pouts. He bitches at us like a woman." Joey stared at the 19 year old, his brown eyes full of truth. Justin spun around. "What the hell does that mean? Like a woman?" JC rubbed his hands together, not liking all the shit that was being stirred up. "What I think he meant is that you tend to be a bit reclusive at times, and take things out on us." "Oh for fucks sake, you can't be serious? You of all people saying I take things out on you?" Justin tapped his foot and stared at JC. "You're the one who takes things out on us. You're the one who is like Hitler, screaming at us if even one dance move is out of line." JC's mouth hung open in shock. He was stunned that Justin thought of him like that. Looking over at Joey, then Lance, he stammered. "Do you think that too?" Lance looked down, chewing on his lip. "Sometimes. You can be a bit....what's the word?" "Anal!" Joey snorted. "Yup, anal is how I'd describe it!" Chris seconded the adjective. "Unfuckingbelievable!" JC seethed. "Excuse me if I want things to be perfect. It's our careers we're talking about, and you all don't take it seriously enough." He stood up and paced, his hands waving about. "How many times do I hear you four whine and complain? I hold this band together. You all should respect and thank me for that." "Ha!" yelled Justin, bitterly. "Yeah, right, okay. JC is a God, we all suck. JC is N Sync. Please!" The therapist wasn't quite sure how far to let them go. It seemed like they were revealing some much needed rants, but he felt the tension mounting to enormous preportions. "Okay, please sit back down, Justin, Josh. Let's try something else here." He waited as the two reluctantly sat back in their seats. "I want you each to tell me one nice thing about the friend sitting next to you. Joey, you start with Chris." Joey groaned. He and Chris had been at one another's throats for so long, he didn't know if he could think of one nice thing to say about him. "Umm, well," he stuttered. "Jesus, Joey, it's that hard?" Chris stared at him with hurt in his eyes. "No. I mean. Well, he used to have a really great sense of humor. When his girlfriend's not around that is." Lance bit back a nervous laugh. "Uh oh," he whispered, knowing that comment was going to cause more turmoil than anything. Chris didn't disappoint. "What the fuck does that mean? When my girlfriend's not around?" His fists clenched, and he went on the defensive. He loved his girlfriend more than anything, more than N Sync, more than his business. There was nothing he wouldn't do, or give up for her. "Fatone, what do you mean?" Joey rolled his eyes. "Come on, Chris. Since you met her, your head isn't in the game. You know it, I know it, we all know it. You're forever ga ga over her, and fuck us, fuck the group. As long as she's around, we can all just blow." Chris pressed his lips together tightly. "You guys all think that?" He watched as JC, Lance and Justin nodded. "Great!" he hollered, slamming his fist on his leg. Lance inhaled sharply, trying to regain some control. "Chris, we love her, it's just that we wish you would dedicate more time to the group. That's all." His voice was soft, and he was trying so hard to keep the peace, as usual. The therapist looked at Chris. "Your turn. One nice thing about Lance." Chris tried to calm down. His mind was full of contempt, and was dangerously close to hatred for them right now. He cast his gaze to the left and stared at Lance. "I don't know. He's religious." Chris spoke in a clipped tone, almost mockingly. Lance felt his ears grow warm. He looked to his right. "That's it? I'm religious? That's the only decent thing you could say about me?" Chris laughed sourly, "Okay, your friendly too. How's that? Is that nice?" "Friendly? What's wrong with that?" He frowned, trying to figure out why Chris was picking on him now. "Dammit, Lance. You're perfect okay? You never do anything wrong, you're the holy one, the good one, the one everyone loves. Okay?" Chris pulled himself up from the couch, guilt ridden. Out of all of them, Lance was the only one who was truly trying to keep this charade in one peice, and he knew he shouldn't have snapped. The damage was done now, though, so he walked to the painting on the wall, and pretended to stare at it. The therapist saw the hurt in Lance's eyes, and wondered if he was approaching all this anger in the correct way. "Lance, now your turn. One nice thing about JC." Lance's voice was tiny, and everyone could see how offended he'd been at Chris' outburst. "I guess JC is a natural. He's talented, and he does hold this group together professionally." JC smiled warmly, knowing that Lance was speaking from the heart. "Thanks, man. That's nice of you to say." Lance nodded, and twisted the ring on his finger, wishing this was over already. JC rubbed his hands along the chair arms and looked at Justin. He wanted to take Lance's lead, and try to be constructive with this session. "Okay, well Justin is very good at basketball, and is a pro when it comes to the studio." Proud of his answer, he leaned back. "Thank you, Josh." Justin grinned. "And I will tell you that even if Joey brings groupies to the bus constantly, and it bugs the shit out of me, I like his sense of humor. He's very easygoing." That softened Joey's foul mood, slightly. He felt a small smile form on his lips. The therapist sat back. "Now I want each of you to be another member of the group. Act out a scene that hurt your feelings, or bothered you." Justin went first. "I'll be JC. 'Guys, you sucked tonight. Joey's missing steps, and Lance was singing too loud, and Justin was anti social, and Chris was rapping off key'." JC scowled at him, his mood souring. "Okay, let me be you. 'I'm dating Britney, no I'm not, we're just friends, oh the press is so mean to me, why me, leave me alone, poor me'." Justin shot his friend the finger and shook his head angrily. Joey stifled a chuckle, realizing how dead on they both were. He thought this might actually work. "Okay, let me be Lance now," he said. "'I am from Mississippi, I am the good one, don't associate me with them, I would never do that, I'm always the gentleman, I know Gloria and Rosie love me the best, oh, and the fans do too now that I got rid of that ridiculous haircut.'" Lance's eyes filled with resentment, and he no longer felt like being the nice one, his frustration filling to a dangerous level. "Okay, that's not fair. I never say those things, and it's not my fault that fans like me now. And if I were you, I wouldn't talk about hair. You've all had dumb ass cuts." He closed his eyes, wondering just how they were going to finish this tour. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide the tension from the public. "Look, I can't take this anymore," he shouted. "We've been through so much shit in the past five years." He stood up and looked at Joey. "You need to stop bringing girls on the bus. Take them to your room, that's fine, but it's not fair to us to have them hanging around when we need to relax." "Amen," Chris breathed. Lance spun around, his green eyes glowering with anger. "And you! You need to put some fucking limits on having your woman around. Not all the time, not every city. We need to bond as a group, especially now. I'm sick of having to talk to you with her around all the time. Once in a while is fine, but not every day!" Justin started to edge toward the door. It took a lot to piss Lance off, but they'd done it, and now the guy was letting loose all the years of keeping quiet. "Where you going?" he demanded, grabbing his elbow. "You better just come clean with the whole Britney thing cuz we're sick of lying and covering up for you. It's not fair to make us do your dirty work. You love her, dude, that's cool. Just admit it, and I bet you'll get a lot more respect than you think." Justin's eyes stung with the threat of tears. He knew Lance was right, and it wasn't fair that he put demands on them because he was scared. Lance took a deep breath, and gazed at JC, who was shrinking down in his chair slightly. He lowered his voice, and smiled. "Josh, just ease up on us. This is supposed to be fun, remember? Remember when we started? It was a group trip to the mall for some matching outfits, laughing and joking around. It was never about perfection. That's what we always hated about all the other pop groups out there. They were too serious. We never were, that's why we made it so far. If Joey makes a mistake, or any of us, just try to laugh it off." He stared at JC, who was taking in what was being said. "Guys, I will try not to act perfect. You all know I'm not. You've covered my ass more than once. Whatever I do wrong, or annoy you with, I'll try to stop, if you all will too. I don't want N Sync to end like this. Not like this. Our ride is still going." He looked at his group mates, and could feel the mood getting less hateful. The therapist smiled. "Time's up. Nice job, Lance." He watched as the five young singers moved toward the door, arms encircling one another, and heartfelt apologies being exchanged. Of course, he knew that things wouldn't be perfect, but this was a start. |
| THERAPY by destiny |