| The hotel was secured, and JC helped Lance off the bus. Justin couldn't breath, he couldn't even think straight. His best friend was really loosing it, and it was 99% because of him. The thoughts muddled his mind and sent him into a mood, more of a depression. Chris was worried. The show that night was supposed to be huge, with numerous celebrities in the house, as well as tons of industry people, people that would make powerful contacts. JC guided Lance past the barricaded fans, smiling and waving, shielding him the best he could. Once inside the saftey of the hotel, he waited at the elevators for the road manager to check them all in. Joey sighed, half tired, half worried, at the nasty turn of events. If they could just get through this night, then everything would be alright. Well, at least he hoped so. Chris stood alongside Justin, tapping on his gameboy absently. "Man, you gonna be okay?" He knew Justin well, and the very sight of the kid was making him nervous. "You know you can't take responsibility for all this." Justin's head swung slowly to face his friend. "Oh yeah? Why not?" Thinking about it, Justin felt he could bear the full brunt of it, all of it! "Because, you made a mistake. You lost your girlfriend, Lance lost his. But we," Chris motioned to all five of them, "are a group, amigos, buddies. There's nothing we can't survive." His eyes pleaded with Justin's to accept his ill attempt at a pep talk. "Right?" Justin stared at the floor, studying his sneakers. Frowning at the black scuff gracing the side, he bent down and tried to rub it off. "This sucks," he muttered. "Let's go!" JC called from the opposite end of the lobby. Chris sauntered over, Justin right behind. Lance stared straight ahead, never diverting his gaze. He heard the idle chatter going on around him, but didn't care to focus on it. He felt Justin's stare on his back, but didn't have the courage to turn and look at him. His heart was shredded, and all he wanted to do was sleep, sleep until this pain was gone. No one could make it go away, of that he was sure. He wanted to throw things, scream, cry, fuck faceless girls, anything to expel the emotions that were scaring him due to their intensity. Instead, he just stared ahead, barely moving. When the doors finally opened to deposit the group on their floor, JC had to prod Lance from the elevator car. "Come on," he coaxed, using his arms to gently remove him. "Joey, go get his door, will ya." Joey scurried off, searching the rooms until he found Lance's. "Down here," he called, inserting the card and pushing the door open. He watched as JC lead Lance down the hall, Chris and Justin not far behind. Briefly, Joey thought maybe someone should call his sister. Stacy always had a way with Lance. She could always make things right with him. As the two entered the room, Lance headed for the King sized bed and rolled onto it, stomach down, face buried into the pillow. JC sat next to him, helplessly. "What the fuck do I do?" he asked Joey, who shrugged. This behavior was out of everyone's league, and JC was wondering if Lance would be able to go on. Chris stood silently, holding onto Justin's elbow, preventing him from going into the room too far. "Better stay put," he explained, not wanting to cause more of a disruption. It was true that he had taken Justin's side when the whole thing went down, and still held a lot of guilt about it. The last thing he wanted was for Justin to upset Lance even more, thus cancelling the show that night. Maybe it was a bit selfish, but he knew he was the only one thinking straight. "I'm okay," a muffled voice said. Lance pulled his head up and faced JC. "I'm fine. Just let me sleep some, then call me for soundcheck or whatever we have to do." JC wasn't buying it. "I think I should stay here," he replied, forcing himself not to touch Lance. One thing he hated was being touched out of pity, or sickness. JC thought back to that horrible collapse Lance had, and how it made him more upset when JC fussed over him. "Look, you can sleep. I'll work on my laptop over there and be real quiet." His words were firm, insistant, and he didn't give up until Lance nodded. "Good." He turned to Chris, Joey and Justin, standing up and walking over. "You guys cancel soundcheck. Let the band run it through alone. Tell them we need them to check everything over." He paused to rub his hand over his tired face, scratching at the stubble. "The therapist will be here soon. I want us all to be here when she comes in case he fights it, alright?" Justin chewed on his thumb, blinking several times. "Alright," he whispered, stealing a glance at the figure curled up on the bed. Chris sighed, then shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea to skip soundcheck, especially tonight. There's..." "I fucking know!" snapped JC. "There's a lot of industry people coming, but Chris. Look at him! We have to pull together now." Taking a deep breath to subdue his emotions, JC lowered his head. "I need all of you to help with this. It's important." Joey nodded, glaring at Chris. "So we skip souncheck, and we'll stay close until the therapist gets here. I'll tell the band." He rushed from the room to explain things, brushing roughly by Chris, annoyed that all he could think of was the importance of the show. Justin backed out of the room and headed down the hallway, surprised when the elevator doors opened, and she stepped out. His face contorted with anger and his fist tightened. "Get out!" he hissed, gritting his teeth. She froze, not liking the stance he was taking. "Justin, I..." "No!" he shouted, heading for her. "Get out, get away from Lance, from us all." He was approaching rapidly, and she shrank back against the wall a bit. JC stepped into the hall, followed closely by Chris. "Oh no!" JC shook his head at her. "You have to go." He shut the door quietly behind him, wanting to keep her voice from getting to Lance's ears. "You cannot be here." She placed her hands on her hips, her eyes filling with tears. "I need to talk to him. Guys, it's important." The hateful stares of the three singers intimidated her slightly, but she knew her rights. "Part of the agreement was for me to see him." Justin's blue eyes went black, and the coldness he felt in his heart for her surfaced violently. "Fuck you! Fuck your agreement. You're nothing but a bitch!" Chris grabbed onto Justin's arm, holding him at bay. JC intervened quickly, standing between the two. "Chris, get him to his room." Chris nodded, pulling a screaming Justin back, forcing him into his room. JC folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head, staring at her. "So, you want a word with Lance?" he questioned. She moved closer, hesitently. "JC, I have that right. I need to let him know some things." A sob erupted from deep inside her. "You have to know, I never mean to cause him so much hurt." JC nodded, not buying a word of it, but listening politely all the same. If he could get rid of her, Lance would be better off. "So you say." Standing less than two feet from JC, Katlyn inhaled sharply, attempting to recompose herself. "JC, please. Just let me see him. I won't cause him any more pain." The tears flowed endlessly from her eyes, and JC studied her carefully. When she and Lance had first gotten together, everyone loved her. She was kind, and funny, and sweet. The cheating and everything else, maybe she had a good reason. Still, he couldn't risk Lance's sanity to find out. "Katlyn, I know you're supposed to be able to see him, but why don't you give him a few weeks? He's still fucked up from all this and I think seeing you would really send him over." "Over?" she gasped. "Over what? What's wrong with him?" Sudden panic filled her body, and she stepped closer to Lance's room. "Let me see him!" she demanded. When JC didn't budge, she reached around him and pounded on the door. "Lance! Lance!" she yelled as loudly as she could. Swiftly, JC grabbed her around the waist and picked her up. "No, I said. What part of leave the guy alone don't you get?" Joey returned from down the hall and witnessed the unappetizing scene before him. "Stop it!" He flew down the hall and touched JC's shoulder. "Let her go," he said, gently. JC put her down, a bit harshly, and stood back. "You ain't getting in, so take your crocodile tears and spill them someplace else." She wiped at her eyes and frowned. "What is your deal, JC? Huh? Why are you so fucking protective all of a sudden?" She shoved JC hard, just to prove she wasn't scared of him. Lance's door opened, and he poked his head out. "What the hell is going..." His voice died in his throat when he saw her there. He felt his heart fall to his feet, and the lump that suddenly formed prevented him from speaking at all. "Lance," she sighed, unprepared for the haggard site in front of her. His normally brillant eyes were dull and red rimmed, his shoulders slumped with weariness, and his face was covered in stubble. "Oh my god." Her hand covered her mouth, and she felt the impact of destroying him, a man she claimed she loved. "I'm so sorry." JC and Joey stood aside, waiting to see what Lance did. So far, he just stood there, emotionless, or so it seemed. "Can I come in? I really need to talk with you." "No." "Lance, I have to." He raked his fingers through his hair and looked at JC. "No," he stated again, but his voice was waivering, and he wanted to talk with her. She spun around to face the two singers standing so closely. "Will you please give us some privacy?" she grumbled. Reluctantly, Joey pulled JC back a bit. He looked at Lance for approval. When he nodded, Joey lead JC away and into his room. "Thank you," she smiled faintly. Lance stood there, stony. He barred the door, preventing her from entering. "Well, my lawyer said you wanted some time with me, so let's do this." Katyln suddenly felt dizzy, so unsure of anything at all. Visions flashed past her, images of her and Lance in happier times. Holding one another in hotel rooms, baking cookies at his mom's house, playing on the swings at a park in South Carolina. All good ones. "Do you have some water?" she barked. "I feel kind of sick." Lance's hard gaze softened for a moment, and he stepped aside to let her in. Walking to the complimentary Evian sitting on the table, he poured her a glass and handed it to her. She looked pale, and thinner than usual. He wondered about it, and sat on the edge of his bed. "Okay, you've had your water, now talk." Katlyn placed the emtpy glass down and removed her beige leather jacket, tossing it onto the chair. "Lance, where to start?" Her eyes met his and mirrored his pain. "I am so sorry." She fought the tears back down and sighed to steady herself. "I never meant to hurt you like this. My sister, she told me that I should file charges, and when I went to you mom's house, god, she had the photo of us at your family reunion blown up and it was hanging in the front hall." Lance blinked, trying to recall the photo. Oh, yeah, the one where they were sitting on the outdoor porch swing. He remembered that day so well. The first time she'd met his family. They fed each other ice cream, and sat at the kiddie table, making paper airplanes with the paper plates. And then they took the kids on a scavenger hunt and Lance thought what a great mom she would make. Abortion. The word rang through his mind painfully, and his demeanor changed instantly. "So, you found it less than gratifying to hurt my parent's with this then?" "Please," she gasped, pacing the room. "I was wrong. The pain in your mom's eyes. God, Lance, she's been so great to me. I felt like part of your family, and that's never happened. I didn't want to loose it. When I screwed up that night with Justin, I hated myself." Lance stared at the bedspread and let his eyes get lost in the paisly pattern. He wished he could dive into those swirls and swim around, be happy and not care about this sad tale being told. What was it everyone always told him? He was too nice. And now, unbelivabely, he was on the verge of being suckered into forgiving her. The paisley's were nice though. He picked at a loose string and wondered if he pulled at it hard enough, would it unravel the whole thing. Would the entire bedspread come apart with just one loose string. "Are you listening?" He closed his eyes and fell back onto the matress, rubbing the bridge of his nose forcefully. "Yeah, you hated yourself," he repeated, letting his hands fall to his sides. When this tour was done, he was taking a long break. He needed to just get lost for a few days. The craziness was too much. Just sit at his house and jet ski, eat Hot Pockets, and veg in front of MTV. That sounded completely great to him. So, he'd be alone. That suited him just fine. He didn't need a woman. Well, he needed women, he just didn't need a relationship. "Lance!" He pulled his head up a bit. "What?" "I love you, I said." She stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down at him, eyes wide with sorrow and regret. "That's what I wanted a chance to tell you. I love you like crazy. I can't eat, or sleep. I'm consumed with guilt and I want a second chance to make this all up to you." He cocked one eyebrow up in amazement. "Excuse me?" he asked, totally taken off guard by this request. "You want what?" She bit her lip and looked away, realizing her request was a long shot. "I had to try," she said softly. Lance plopped his head back down and laughed, a deep chuckle that turned into hysterical giggling. He clutched his stomach and rolled to his side, tears rolling down his face. "I don't think it's so funny," she cried, reaching for her jacket. "I guess I deserve it, but still." "Oh god," he gasped, forcing himself to sit up. "You're hysterical." He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and sniffled. "You're one in a million, that's for shit sure." He watched as she threw her jacket on and took hurried steps for the door. "So why don't you tell me about your abortion?" She stopped, her hand dead on the doorknob. "How did you know?" she asked, confusion and embarassment filling her voice. "Justin told me," he stated, matter of factly. "We talk, you know." She released her grip on the knob and covered her face. "No wonder you hate me." He sighed, strolling over to her. His hands found her shoulders and he turned her around. "Look at me," he demanded, pushing her hands down. His hand tilted her chin upwards and he stared into her eyes. "You know that it's over with us." She nodded numbly. "It has to be. I can't trust you. You have destroyed me beyond comprehension." Katlyn felt shame as she gazed into once trusting eyes. She cursed herself. He was one true man and she could have had it all with him. She quickly forgot the months of no affection from him, only focused on what might have been had she not fucked up so badly. "I know," she whispered, leaning into him. That familiar smell filled her senses and she pressed herself to his chest, inhaling, wanting to capture every single moment. "I just have to heal from all this. You almost took me down." He smoothed her hair with his hand, remembering how soft it felt, pushing back dangerous emotions that were tempting him to cave. "I hope we both can heal from this." She lifted her head and pressed her lips together tightly, keeping her gaze on him. He smiled, revealing the small dimple she adored so much, and she reached up to touch it, one last time. "Lance, you are a wonderful man. You'll make someone very happy someday." He kissed her, gently, letting his lips revel in the comfortable nature of hers. He felt her sob and let her go. "Take care," he whispered, squeezing her hand tightly. Katlyn wrapped her arms around her body and nodded, words were just too painful right now. She took one last glimpse of him, and headed out the door, passing the therapist on her way to the elevator. Lance shut the door firmly and let himself go. Tears of relief and regret fell, and when the woman knocked on his door, he welcomed her in, ready to heal and go on. |
| TRYST 7 |