The trip to California had been a success.
The day after the lunch with Dustin and Meadow, JC alone went to the studio the pair had requested while the others went to meet some of the writers for the next album and see if any of their own original songs needed improvement upon, which most did. They had unanimously agreed earlier on that JC would be solely in charge of the producing aspects of the next album, that he could have free choice on who he would work with and so on.
When he had come back, he walked into the hotel room with a rare, glowing smile spread across his face. “We’ve got them,” was all he said, but it was all that was needed. Meadow and Dustin were going to be co-producing on the next album.
Now, after spending the rest of their time with promotional duties, they were on a plane back to Florida for a three-week vacation and preparation time before they began serious work on the album. Lance had been offered a choice on whether he would be on the flight to Florida or Mississippi; he had chosen Florida.
A yellow taxi brought him to the gates of his apartment. As he looked up at the building he had the strangest feeling that he was indeed coming home, a rush of relaxation coursing through him. He had always viewed the place as some space he inhabited while he stayed in Florida, but now it was warmth and comfort and her. Walking down the dark hallway, the only lights brought by the see of white and red coming from the freeway seen outside of the windows that lined the walls, he wondered if she had missed him as much as he had her. A worry flashed through his mind that maybe, since his had been absent, she would return back to the shell she had left behind but he pushed the thought away. She had to be the same.
Turning the key in the lock, he opened the front door and saw that the lamp in the living room was on, but that was it. He put his bag down and stood in the entryway for a minute, trying to sense if another person might be hiding somewhere within, but he heard and saw nothing. His heart dropped in his chest; she was probably out.
Sighing, he closed the door and picked the bag up to unpack in the bedroom. He stopped then, finally seeing the sleeping figure on the white couch, lying in between the large pillows, her body curled to fit the space. There was a book sprawled over her chest and her left hand rested on it while the right lay against the pillow, next to her head. Her serene face was turned in his direction and he kept his stance and simply stared at it, completely transfixed with just the sight of her.
He did wonder then how it had come to this, how it was possible to feel what he did, but looking at her the answer was beyond the word evident.
Placing the bag back down, he found himself moving towards her and kneeling next to the couch. His hand reached up and grazed her own hand on the book, then his fingers moved up her arm to brush away the light hair on her cheek. After the hairs were gone his thumb remained, caressing the soft skin over and over again, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Hazel,” he whispered.
Her eyelid twitched and then opened, confusion filling her gaze. “Are you back?”
He smiled and nodded. “Go back to sleep now.”
“Ok,” she yawned, involuntarily moving her face closer to his. He kissed her forehead and then rested his cheek against it, moving the hand on her cheek to the back of her neck, entangling his fingers in her hair.
He thought she was sleeping, but then she whispered, “I missed you Lance.”
He inhaled deeply, the breath settling into his chest. “I missed you too.”
Later he heard her breathing signify that she slept, but he didn’t leave the side of the couch for a long, long time.
~~
The next morning, when Hazel woke up, the apartment felt right again. That missing piece was back. Fragments of what had happened last night were still with her, but for the most part all she could remember was falling asleep feeling completely comfortable and warm. She checked the rec. room and found that he still slept and so quietly went about getting ready for class that day.
She remembered the anticipation for a test back in her high school days, or actually, lack there of. Sometimes it happened where she would go to school and barely even remember what class she was in, let alone that there was a test that day. She dreaded it, dreading that moment when she got to spend a full hour alone, doing nothing in the silence, while everyone else proved with their rash, quick moving pencils that they were and always would be far more superior to her in every way. She had made a secret promise to herself never to go through that kind of torture again.
Now she was heading straight for it.
The past two nights she had purposefully stayed in to study, but distractions popped up sporadically and then she woke up to find the night had passed and she still had yet to pick up the book. Why couldn’t she concentrate? The question had tormented her entire educational career.
As she walked, the sunny scenery and roaring cars were not in her vision. Her eyes were clouded over with hopelessness and light misery. She would fail. She knew she would. Stupidity was inescapable, she had known it all her life. Why had she allowed herself to fall for the hope that maybe, just because all these other changes were occurring in her life, this would be any different? There was no hope in the world; she had learned that lesson plenty of years ago. So how did she manage to capture that false idea in her mind and keep it trapped there? She should have turned around right at the spot.
Still, she stayed on her path. Fifteen minutes later she found herself sitting at a rectangular desk with a number 2 pencil in her hand and a white packet heading in her direction.
~~
In another location in Florida, Lance was experiencing a similar trauma. The old thoughts were beginning to manifest themselves in his brain as he put on his required façade for that days photo shoot. Unbelievably tight, studded jeans and a white, sleeves cut off shirt with a ridiculous design on the front made up his wardrobe and the boy that looked back at him in the mirror was a person he no longer recognized or felt comfortable with.
Momentarily he was able to step outside of himself, to see this person stand before him and to judge. The clothes appeared as a separate entity to the boy who wore them. It was almost like the outfit was fighting with him instead of blending with his personality. The entire scene was forced, from the expression on his face to the suede cowboy boots he was wearing to the way he was standing. He had never felt so fake in his entire life.
Is this how he wanted it to be? Is this how he had wanted people to view him, to treat him? The truth was an answer he had known all along. No. He wanted to be seen for the individual he was, and maybe that person wasn’t what everyone expected of him or needed him to be, but right at that second he no longer gave a damn.
The clothes were off in a matter of seconds, replaced with a white shirt, regular black slacks and a pair of Vans tennis shoes. Now when he looked in the mirror a smile spread across his face as the person he knew as Lance smiled back at him.
He left the dressing room and found the others already waiting out in the room they were taking the pictures for the final photo shoot before the vacation officially started. It took awhile for people to notice his presence, but when they did, the entire room was gawking at him as if he were still wearing some extravagant outfit.
Joey, his mouth wide open, was the first to speak. “Aren’t you going to change yet?”
“I have changed,” Lance replied casually, taking a position at the far end of the line of men.
“You’re what?” Justin exclaimed. “That’s the same thing you were wearing when you arrived.”
“Yes, I realize this Justin.”
“What’s going on here?” Chris asked. “I mean, I don’t understand.”
Lance shrugged as if the answer was as clear as daylight. “This is what I’m wearing for this photo shoot. This is what I feel the most like me in and since this is a photo shoot that, I’m assuming, wants to represent and take pictures of me, I want the people who see these pictures see me as I want to be seen, as I am.”
“You can’t do that!” Justin said. “If you wear those things then you look just like everyone else out there, and we have to separate ourselves as individuals.”
“I joined this group to sing, not to act,” Lance stated.
“But…I mean…” Justin helplessly turned to JC, who had stayed quiet the entire time. “Will you please tell him why he can’t wear that.”
JC shrugged. “I agree with him, I think that it looks more like Lance. Besides, I think that he stands out more in comparison to us. You won’t be winning any VH1 fashion awards though Lansten.”
Lance grinned. “There’s always next year.”
Despite countless protests, Lance refused to change and so the photo shoot went on. In every picture Lance was smiling.
~~
Two days later Hazel found out she had failed the test.
The printed out list hung outside of the classroom and Hazel checked it three times before excepting what shouldn’t have surprised her. But it did surprise her. A bitter, clogged up ball slowly sunk into her throat and she didn’t know that what she was tasting was the feeling of bitter disappointment. Never before had a test meant so much to her.
She had decided to walk home that day, the sky grayer than usual, the clouds hanging over her head like menacing guardians, repeating over and over again how stupid she had been to let herself believe her life was worth more than face value. Or maybe that was just her own conscience screaming at her. She didn’t know and didn’t care, all she could think about was that little blue building and the boy who waited for her at home. The boy who thought he could believe in her; the boy whom she would have to inform was completely wrong.
With grudging steps she made herself move closer and closer to the black numbers nailed to the white door, 716, the portal to her home. When she entered, the stereo was on and she heard someone singing from the kitchen. Following the tantalizing aroma of cooking food, she saw that Lance was hurrying amidst pots and pans, humming and singing along to the song. He looked so happy and free that for an instant she forgot why the sky had been so gray in the first place.
“What’s going on?”
He stopped, startled at her presence. “Whoa. Hi there. When did you get home?”
“A couple of minutes ago,” she answered, sitting at the counter. “I didn’t know you knew even what a pot was.”
“I will disregard your sarcasm. Nothing could spoil my good mood.”
“Why are you so happy?”
He stirred something in a pan, smiling. “At the photo shoot I got to wear a white shirt and jeans.”
“Rah rah?”
“You don’t understand. It was like this huge weight was lifted from my shoulders, like my life was finally starting to balance out or something.”
Her eyes squinted at him. “Lance, for someone with your lifestyle, you seek far to much normalcy.”
“Ah, normalcy. I like that one.”
Her face fell blankly and she shrugged. “It was one of the questions I actually got right, I guess.”
Immediately he put the pan down. “What happened? Did you get your test results?”
“You’re food-"
“It doesn’t matter. Tell me Hazel.”
She could only look at him for so long before her eyes turned down and she shrugged. “I failed.”
He seemed to take the news even worse than she did, his face melancholy, the enthusiasm erased. “I’m sorry. I know how much it meant to you.”
“It meant nothing,” she said, standing. “I barely even studied. I don’t care.”
“I know you don’t mean that.”
“I failed ok! I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m not cut out for the same things in life you are. Some people are just born to live and then die with nothing great happening in between and I’m one of those people.”
“No you aren’t,” he said defiantly. “No matter what you do or what you say you can never be one of those people.”
“Don’t you understand?” Her voice almost sounded like a plea. “I will never be anything. Some dreams come true and some don’t, it’s a part of life, and it’s a part of my life. Purposes aren’t handed out to everyone.”
He chose not to hear her words. “When’s your next test?”
She hesitated and then said, “A week from today.”
“That’s more than enough time to prepare you.” He walked back to the steaming pans on the stove.
She followed him, unsure of what his meaning was. “Lance, I’m not going back.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No,” she shook her head, “I’m not. It’s a waste of my time. I’ll just fail the next test and the test after that and the test after that.”
“You won’t.”
“And why not?”
“Because I believe in you and I know what you’re capable of. I’m going to help you.”
She thought after hearing the news of her failure he would be the first to support her idea in leaving the dream of college. Now, he was more determined than ever, and she couldn’t understand why, what drove him to have so much faith in a girl that had never shown any promise of meeting his expectations?
“This is…it’s crazy. I won’t go back there.” She was stubborn but also realistic. Even though he had no idea what kind of downfall he was in for, she did, and she wouldn’t do that to him or to herself. “You can’t make me.”
He stopped stirring and with a steady gaze quietly said, “Please Hazel, don’t give up now.”
“There’s no reason not too.” She turned around and went straight for the bedroom. When she emerged later on that evening, she found the kitchen spotless and empty, a single plate sitting on the counter, waiting for her to eat it. Instead, she turned towards the phone and dialed a number.
“Hello? Neal? Yea, it’s Hazel. What are you doing tonight?”
~~
The studio was quiet, the hallways dark and lonely, but a single light peered from underneath a door. JC Chasez sat in front of a large board with different buttons and knobs on it, mixing a song that was just recorded. He was surprised when the door to the room opened and a familiar face entered.
Lance exchanged a glance with him, his eyes showing the evident distress and frustration that owned his mind, and he took a seat next to him. “Do you mind?”
“Knock yourself out,” JC said, and returned his vision back to the board.
Lance stayed, watching him for awhile. It was incredible how much JC loved the music, how he craved to make it, how it seemed to be his reason for waking up in the morning. His thoughts lingered back to the girl with the dewy eyes and he wished she had that kind of passion for the day care center, enough passion to beat down the barricades she had known all her life and take the extra steps in getting what she wanted.
JC interrupted his silent hopes as the song he had been working on faded to an end. “So what’s the thought of the day Lansten?”
Lance was blunt. “Hazel.”
Nodding grimly, JC turned his head forward. “Girls can do that to you. Infect you’re brain, even with just a small smile. What’s going on with her? She’s still going to school, right?”
“I don’t know. She failed her first test and is convinced that it’s just more proof that failure is a predominant factor she can’t escape.”
“She told you all of this?”
“I can tell,” Lance said. “The thing is, when I look at her, I don’t see that.”
“What do you see?”
Lance paused. “I see someone on the brink of their lives, on the brink of happiness and success and having every dream that she abandoned long ago coming true. All she needs is that little push that she’s been lacking her entire life, but I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve done it all JC, I have nothing left in me. I’ve offered her my help, my friendship, my…” He trailed off. “Nothing works. And I’m beginning to think that maybe it is hopeless, maybe everything she believes is true and I’m wrong. Maybe there is no point in life or dreaming, that you just have to exist until there’s nothing left to exist for.”
“I think you know that’s not true,” JC said carefully. “We’re living proof that it’s not true. People were not meant to be born just to barely exist through life, they were meant to live it. It just takes longer for some than others, but it happens, to everyone, at some point. It will happen for Hazel, she just needs you to stick by her.”
“I’d do anything for her JC, without hesitation.”
JC smiled. “I know you would Lance. So you have to think of something to help her through this recent disappointment.”
“Well, I suggested that I help her study next time. Maybe that’s all she needs, someone there to coach her and make sure she understands things.”
“I think you’d be perfect for the job.”
“Let’s hope I’m enough.”
~~
When Neal dropped her off late that night she instantly went to the rec. room. Slowly opening the door, she saw him asleep on the couch, breathing peacefully. She left him there and went to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator to search for something to eat. Instead, she stood there for endless minutes, staring into the cool yellow glow, loosing her appetite. She closed the door and walked over to the window, opening the blinds slightly to look into the gray, dark intersection that still had litters of cars zooming over.
There was so much life on that intersection, so many people thinking and breathing and living their dreams. And some who weren’t. Red and white lights drifted across the dark pathway like large fireflies, but she knew that behind them were people, individuals. She had always known this. It had always been satisfactory to live with the truth that she was one of the ones who weren’t meant to have dreams, to have a purpose.
She could no longer live with it anymore.
Something inside of her was stirring, craving to dream and to want things, to want more than what she had accustomed herself too. She wanted to feel things, to have emotion, to find out who she was. She had always assumed she was nothing, but maybe that was because it was the role she forced herself to play. Maybe there were better things for herself.
“Was there an accident or something?”
Slowly, her head looked back to see Lance standing at the entrance, face alert. “No.”
He walked over to the black stool and took a seat in front of the counter. “Something on your mind Hazel?”
She shrugged. “Just thinking about class…and how I’m not going back.”
“Ok,” he casually said.
“You’re not disappointed?”
“You weren’t doing it for me, were you?”
“No,” she quickly replied.
“Then why would I be disappointed?”
That hurt her, a pain stinging her chest, and she didn’t know why. “I thought you cared.”
“I do. I wish you could realize just how much I cared. But I won’t force you to do something you truly don’t want to. If you think that college isn’t worth it anymore, I’m ok with that.” Lance noticed her expression and said, “You’re the one who looks disappointed.”
“I’m not. I mean, I guess I’m not. I just thought…I thought you’d try to talk me into going back or whatever.”
“Do you want me to talk you into going back?” he carefully asked.
It was so easy to lie. She could lie to anyone, even herself. Especially herself. Why couldn’t she lie to him? “Sort of.” Exasperated, she walked over to the counter, standing directly across from him. “Even though I know it’s…that word you used. Ridiculous, I think. I can’t help it. There’s a part of me that wants to try, but everything else in my life has told me already that trying is useless. I’ve never been anything, that’s the only thing I’ve ever known.”
“Hazel, remember when I told you about what I was wearing to that photo shoot and you told me how it wasn’t me. How, if you were to have people see your picture, you’d want them to see you?”
She nodded.
“Well, that applies to you too. You let people and society tell you what you are, what to wear in a sense, and you think that’s who you are. Maybe if you stopped listening to the people and things surrounding you and just be who and what you want to be, you’ll surprise yourself.”
“I don’t know who I want to be though,” she quietly said.
“That’s why you have to let yourself dream, allow yourself to take the risk and try for things you want. You may fail, but you may not. That’s what living is and you are alive. Don’t settle for what you think you deserve, move your expectations to another level and grab the things you want. You deserve more than anything this world can offer you Hazel. I know it.”
Astounded she listened, shaken by not just the words he said but the way his eyes showed that he meant and believed in all of it. She couldn’t understand how he could believe in her so much. Even more confusing was why his faith meant so much to her.
~~
When Lance woke up he walked into a silent kitchen and found small piece of torn notebook paper resting on the counter. The words were scribbled on with a lead pencil and it formed two short sentences.
Lance,
Went to class. Be back early.
Hazel.