Prologue

Sometimes I think it's disgusting just how perfect they look together. And to make things worse it's how much they love each other. They look fake, absolutely fake as they sit there and smile at the interviewer on the television screen. They giggle, use hand gestures and every once in a while she puts her hand on his shoulder. Not like Justin could teach me anything about love, he's nearly five years younger than me and what I consider a lot more sheltered than I ever was at 21. Though I had to hand it to him, he did have her. From the long talks and the years of bunking together in a tour bus I knew Justin loved her, but it was the fame that made them look so fake. It was like they needed each other.
I leaned back in my chair and took a sip of my bottled water. It was times like this that I thought about my own relationships and my own problems in a life of fame and money. Justin seemed to handle it all so well - he made it look so damned easy. But then again I worry about him. I look at him as my younger brother and I watch every move he makes to make sure he doesn't derail on the full-speed ahead train he rides. If anything happened to him, I would blame myself for not being a good mentor.
So there's me. Someone so much like Justin, yet so different in many ways. I actually don't think I could describe myself in one sentence, one paragraph, one book even. It depends on the day really because my moods change like a chameleon. With romance, it's not as easy as Justin and Brit - perhaps that's what scares me. I'm the questionable one, not only to the press, but the fans and sometimes even my own best friends. I think I've thrown them off a bit with the sequin tops, pink feathers and glittery flashy pants. Sometimes I wonder if they just don't ask why I'm wearing it because they're afraid of the answer. Hell, I don't even know the answer. I don't think the clothes really tell about my sexuality all that much, though I've seen the way the press eyes me when we walk down the red carpet. My clothes are my clothes, my hair is my hair, it's what I want to wear at the time and it's what Chris calls "comfortable with my sexuality." I don't think Chris really knows what's going on in my head.
Am I gay? No. Am I straight? That's a good question. I love women, they are amazing, but there's a few guys that just…catch…my…eye. Maybe I shouldn't say a few, there's one. One that has actually changed my opinion on the whole gay/straight/bi topic. I was straighter than a board until him.
I don't think he remembers what happened. It was so long ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. It was his first time getting drunk…he didn't take it too well. The night we won the lawsuit we partied until any of us could keep our eyes open. He had way too much to drink, me on the other hand, I had a lot, but I was still thinking clearly. We were all yelling and talking, our closest friends around when I decided to walk down the hall to the bathroom. I could see him slouching against the doorway when I got there.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"My head is so heavy Jayce," he laughed, his light eyes looking lost.
He began to slide down the doorframe when I reached out and grabbed him. I pinned his hips against the wall with mine so I could put his head in my hands.
"Are you going to throw up?"
He just shook his head and stared at me oddly.
"We won Jayce," he kept saying over and over.
I smiled, "yeah we did."
And then suddenly he pressed his lips against mine. No warning, no nothing, just did it. It was the minute when our lips locked that I knew my life had changed forever. Like a surge of electricity had been shot through every inch of my body I shook from head to toe, my heart beating louder and faster. His lips were soft as he kissed them gently and then pulled away, his face expressionless. Did it scare me? No. What scared me is the fact that it didn't scare me - that I didn't pull away - that I liked it.
I searched his eyes questioningly for a few moments.
"I have to puke," he suddenly moaned and went running for the toilet.
And that was that. Over three years ago…
We never spoke about it because hell, I don't even think he remembers. I've looked for signs since that night, but nothing, we're just still what we've always been, great friends.
"Oh gross, they're kissing on T.V.!" I was snapped out of my thoughts by his playful yell from the recliner next to me, a pillow flying from Chris's hand on the other side of the room. It hit the television.
"Jup, gross! Man Justin's gone all mushy and lovey with Brit on us. He needs a beating!" Joey replied.
"They just got back together, you can't expect them not to be," I moaned as the interview ended and faded to commercial.
"Jayce is right," he replied.
Our eyes locked momentarily, both of us sharing some form of a knowing look without actually knowing what we were sharing. If that made sense. He looked away from me quickly…it was things like that that kept me up late at night.
I wondered why now, after three years, did this bother me the way it did.
"Glad Lance is on the same level as I am," I chucked a pillow at Joey and then turned to briefly look at him.
"Awww aren't you two cute," Joey snorted.
I couldn't help but flush and mutter a "shut up Joe."
"C'mon Chris, it sucks being with the romantics of the group," Joey teased and stood up.
"At least Lance has an excuse with Trinity, JC has no excuse!" Chris threw another pillow at me.
It was then I realized Chris had said something intelligent for the first and probably last time in his life. I wanted to jump up and hug him, but God I didn't want the realization I was having to be right either.
What was my realization? That maybe the reason why this little kiss with Lance was bothering me more and more was because Lance and Trinity had become very close romantically - closer than he'd been to anyone in the past three years. But what was I going to do? Stop it? I could just see myself trying to break up the happy couple by confessing some jumbled bullshit feelings I have inside that *I* can't even figure out let alone justify.
"Don't listen to them Jayce," Lance broke my train of thought, "we'll find you a nice girl." He smiled at me.
Sure Lance, sure.

One