Chapter 5

Joey ushered Lance into his hotel room. Clearing his clothes from the desk chair, Joey urged Lance to sit down. Leaving Lance in the main room, Joey went into the bathroom, running the tap water until it got cold and filling a glass for Lance. When he stepped into the room, he realized his concerned efforts were for nothing. Lance had already opened Joey's mini bar and helped himself to a small bottle of liquor.

Joey sat on the bed and watched Lance. The shot of alcohol seemed to go straight to his head; he swayed slightly before sitting down in the chair. A frustrated hand raked through his blond tipped spikes as he held his head in his hand. Joey watched as Lance shook his head once, twice, three times before speaking.

Lance nodded, “Yeah, I think I do.” He sighed and stood up, walking to the sliding doors and opening them. Stepping outside, he stood at the railing of the balcony and looked over the darkened city. Lights twinkled in windows as stars twinkled overhead. The heat seemed to hang in the air, and Lance was convinced he could actually see it. He heard Joey step outside and turned his head slightly when he felt a light tap on his arm. Joey handed him a cold bottle of beer and Lance raised it to his lips.

Joey grinned briefly at him and moved to sit on one of the chairs provided on the balcony. Lance opted to sit on the cement barrier between Joey's room and the next, which happened to be his. He rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes, opening them when he heard Joey speak.

Lance laughed, “You're lucky I know what you're saying cause that made no sense what-so-ever.” Joey shrugged at him and grinned, but didn't respond. Lance turned his gaze back to the sky, his head still resting on the wall, a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I don't know, Joe,” he said softly. “I just know that as soon as I wake up, I think about him, and right before I fall asleep, I think about him. I walk down the street sometimes and see something in a shop window, and my first thought isn't whether it's a nice item, or if I like it, it's what JC would think of it. I went to get coffee the other day, and they had this huge sign in the window advertising a new flavor, and my first thought was I'll bet JC would like that kind.” Lance hung his head and dropped his voice even lower, “And whenever I see him, I just want to reach out and touch him somehow, you know, like pick an imaginary piece of lint off of his sweater, just so I can be near him. I notice the way he smells when he just gets out of the shower, I notice the way his left eye twitches when he gets tired.” He shook his head and snuck a sideways glance at Joey. “And this all just hit me. One night I was standing in the shower and it just hit me, Joey. I don't know why it happened, I don't know how it happened, it just did. And I know without a single doubt in my mind, that I love JC.”

Lance shrugged, “I don't know. I've never noticed guys before, you know? I've always been attracted to women. That's why this is so hard for me, Joey. First I have to accept the fact that I'm attracted to a man, and then I have to accept the fact that he's my best friend. And this could completely ruin our friendship.”

The plane touched down in sunny Florida, and the youth looked eagerly out the window. He had been to Florida before, but never for anything this important. This time he was coming to Florida for a potentially life changing event. He looked over at his mom in the seat next to him.

Lance sighed and turned his attention back to the window. He was not going to let her ruin this for him. He loved his mother dearly, he himself admitted he was somewhat of a mama's boy. But, this was The Dream, capital T, capital D! Couldn't she see that? Couldn't she see that he was more nervous and excited now than he had ever been in his entire life?

When he had gotten the call from the vocal coach, he had been surprised, to say the least. He had only worked with the man briefly, and Lance was surprised that the guy even remembered him. But, that didn't stop him from accepting the invitation to come to Florida. He remembered lying in his bed, praying to God his mom and dad would let him go. And they did. Although it had taken major convincing from both Lance and the coach, but eventually, they said they would go to Orlando for the audition.

The doorbell rang again, and Chris rolled his eyes, “That had better be JC.” Justin left the room, to answer the door and Chris and Joey turned their attention back to the video game, leaving Lance standing in the center of the room. He walked to the couch and sat on the edge, clasping his hands in front of him.

“I know, I know,” he said, holding up his hand to Chris when he opened his mouth, “I'm late. I overslept,” he admitted sheepishly. He turned his gaze to Lance. “Hi, I'm JC.” He grinned at Lance, and for the first time since Justin opened the door to him, Lance felt completely at ease.

“Well, let's get this started,” JC said, moving into the room, and sitting next to Lance on the couch. “So, tell us about yourself,” he said, putting Lance on the spot. Joey turned off the television, and Chris and Justin flopped onto the other chairs in the room. They all looked at Lance expectantly.

Lance felt nervous under the scrutiny of the other guys, and his gaze fell to the floor. “Well, um,” he started, “I'm from Mississippi,” his accent sounded more pronounced around the other guys, “I'll be sixteen in May.” He stopped, not knowing what else to say. Thankfully, his parents entered the room right then, followed by Mrs. Harliss, and people who Lance assumed were the other guys' parents. Following behind was a large man with glasses.

Justin and Chris got up, allowing their mothers the chairs, Lance and JC did the same for their mothers, and Joey's mom joined them on the couch. The guys moved to sit with Joey on the floor, and Lance followed their lead, sitting down a few feet away, still feeling out of place. The other guys were making small talk with each other's parents.

As Lance listened to them sing, he was beginning to think maybe this wasn't such a good idea. What business did he have being here? He was just a high school kid from a small town in Mississippi, did he really think he was going to be good enough to fit in with these guys? He listened to them sing together in awe. They were a little rough, but really good. JC took the leads in the song, the others harmonizing behind him.

Lance tried to forget about his nervousness and his misgivings and concentrate on the song. Joey was the lowest in the group, but his wasn't a bass voice. Lance listened to the song, looking at the ground, blocking out everything but the sound of their voices, looking for his niche. He was completely concentrating on what his voice could add to their sound.

JC nodded and counted again, his voice clear as he began singing. Lance waited, and came in right on cue with the others, his quiet bass in the harmony, rounding out the sound that was already there. JC's eyes widened as he heard Lance join in and he smiled as he sang, meeting the gaze of Chris, who was nodding. Justin was practically bouncing on the floor with his happiness, and Joey even broke the song long enough to give a little whoop of excitement.

The five guys on the floor of the Harliss house sounded amazing. It was as if they had been singing together for years, not just meeting their last member five minutes prior. Lance looked at his mother, who was sitting on the couch with tears in her eyes. His gaze traveled to his father, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, which was swelled with pride.

The song ended, and Lance found himself grinning and rising to his feet with the other guys. Joey, Justin, Chris and JC hugged each other with happiness, and when Lance was pulled into a hug by JC, who was slapping his back and saying things like, “Welcome to the family,” he let himself enjoy the moment, knowing everything was about to change.

Chris sat up and looked JC straight in the eye, “Don't you think I know that, JC? I'm the one who wanted this first, remember? This is just frustrating for me, sitting here, waiting for him to learn this stuff. I want to be out there, singing, getting ourselves some fans, some money, some recognition.”

“I know how you feel, Chris, I really do,” JC replied, “I want that, too. But, before we have that, we have to do this,” he motioned to the floor where Lance was dancing. “And if it's frustrating for you, think what it's like for him. He doesn't get to take the breaks we get, he has to work through them. And he's doing it all without complaint. He hasn't once asked us to stop because he was tired, or that his muscles hurt. He wants this just as much as we do. So, cut him a little slack.”

The guys jumped up, moving into positions, Chris walking behind the others. Lance stood with his hands on his knees, bent over, trying to catch his breath. He picked his head up as Chris walked by, and briefly met his eyes. Chris just shook his head, moving to his place on the floor.

Lance sighed as he stood straight up. He didn't know what it was with Chris. Nothing was ever good enough for him. Lance tried so hard to learn his parts, and it wasn't good enough. He spent hours practicing these dances in addition to the hours he was with the guys practicing. Add that to the time spent with the vocal coaches, and the time spent with Lou, picking out songs for their first album, Lance barely had time for himself. His mother was already regretting the decision, wishing she had said no when Lance wanted to go to Florida.

His eyes moved away from Chris to the other guys. If Chris was the bad guy, the others were like super heroes. Especially JC. Whenever Chris would start on Lance, JC would always step in and defend him, much like an older brother. Lance was grateful JC was in the group. Justin and Chris were unusually close, considering the difference in their ages. And Joey, well, he was so laid back, nothing really bothered him. If it took Lance three hours to learn one step, he didn't care. He listened to Chris' complaining and stayed quiet, not wanting to get involved.

The choreographer started the music, shattering Lance's quiet thoughts. He ran his hand over his forehead, removing the sweat, and pushing his blonde hair off his forehead. He took a deep breath and began to concentrate. He was going to get this. He was not going to give Chris more ammunition.

The guys were in the studio, recording what was going to be their second album, a collection of Christmas songs. They haven't had a day off in weeks, between promoting their debut album, they went into the studio every chance they had. Lance couldn't even remember what songs they recorded already. He only knew today they were doing “The First Noel,” and an a cappella “Oh Holy Night.”

A contented sigh escaped his lips as he moved to a more comfortable position on the couch. He rolled on his side, his back to the door. When he heard the door open, he was dying to turn around and look to see who came into the room, but was just too damn tired to make the effort. His questions were answered when he heard a one-sided phone conversation.

JC's voice took on an anguished tone, “No, I don't want us to break up. Look, we knew this was going to be hard. Just a few more weeks of this and it'll be better, I promise.” He sat on a chair, and listened to her response, running a hand over his face. “I know, Bobbi, I know I said that last time, but what do you want me to do? I can't change things.” He let out a heavy sigh, “Fine, I'll call you later. Have fun at class.”

Lance heard the beep of JC's cell phone shutting off, and another deep sigh come from his lips. Lance still didn't move. JC and Bobbi had met while the guys were in California, and were dating ever since. From what JC had told them, it wasn't really serious, but from what Lance heard, it might be more serious than he was letting on.

“And then she said, `That's what you said last time. I'm sick of being second string to your career.' Can you believe her?” JC asked, raising his voice. “I mean, I offered to fly her out here, and she can't come because of her sorority, and I'm the bad guy? At least I can't go see her cause I'm trying to make some damn money! She won't come to see me because of some chicks she has to pay to be friends with her!”

Lance sighed heavily. Something was wrong. Lately, seeing Bobbi was becoming like hearing nails on a chalkboard for Lance. And she hadn't changed. She was still the same sweet, slightly over-bearing girl she always had been. He was probably just getting too much of her, that was all. He and JC had been sharing a room for the first leg of the tour, and whenever possible, she was there.

She had decided that JC's career was too important for him to lose out on, and she had been taking more and more time out to visit him while on the road. She somehow managed to schedule her classes for the middle of the week, leaving Friday, Monday, and the whole weekend free. And that's when she would see JC. Not every weekend, but most of them. And for the last month, she had been a constant thorn in Lance's side.

And he didn't blame JC, he couldn't. If the roles were reversed, he'd want to see his girlfriend as much as possible, too. That's probably all it was, he reasoned, he was jealous at the amount of time JC saw Bobbi. Lance couldn't see his own girlfriend that much because she had her TV show to worry about and their schedules hardly ever meshed.

JC crossed his arms and adopted a worried expression, “It seems lately you're always tired, though, Lance. This is so unlike you.” He moved closer to Lance, and Lance could feel the heat radiating from his body. JC placed his hand on Lance's forehead, “You're burning up,” he told him.

JC immediately stood and pulled the comforter around Lance. “That's it, I'm not going.” Lance began to protest, and JC held up a hand, “No, Lance. You're sick, and I don't need to go to a club tonight with Joey. I'd just be worried about you anyway.” He picked up the phone and broke the news to Joey. Hanging up, he looked to see Lance had already closed his eyes.

His normally bright green eyes were faded, like all the light and sparkle were gone. His complexion, normally pale, was now pasty, with no color what-so-ever. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his nose was red, a result of constant running. There were deep creases on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth, and his eyelids seemed to always be drooping shut.

JC turned and went into the bathroom, wetting a wash cloth with cold water and taking a bottle of flu pills from his bag. He filled a glass with water and retreating to the bedroom, once again sat next to Lance on the bed. He reached forward and gently lay the cloth on Lance's forehead, brushing back his lank, blonde hair with his finger.

Lance opened one eye to see JC above him, looking at him with a very concerned expression on his face. In his hand, he held two green pills, and as Lance nodded, he reached for the glass of water he set on the night table. Lance sat up slightly, and JC held the washcloth in place as Lance downed the pills. Lance shivered as he lie beneath the covers.

“Okay,” JC amended, “I'll be in the other room if you need anything.” He stood next to the bed, looking down at Lance, feeling he should do more, but not knowing what that was. Finally, he reached down and brushed his hand on Lance's cheek, “Get some sleep,” he whispered and left the room, shutting the light out as he went.

The guys had to perform at Disney's Summer Jam Concert that afternoon. Lance knew he shouldn't be on stage, but he felt as if he didn't have a choice. A few nights ago, he didn't want to go on, but Lou had made him, giving him a guilt trip about all the fans that would be disappointed.

Lance smiled at JC's concern. He had been the first to notice when Lance began to get sick, and took it upon himself to try to find a cure for whatever was wrong with Lance. Lance himself denied he was even sick, so he ended up dumping the millions of bowls of chicken noodle soup JC thought would miraculously cure him down the drain. Now he wasn't so sure if he should have done that.

What was his problem? Why was uncomfortable around JC all of a sudden? He was just trying to help him get better. Lance closed his eyes and when he did, all he saw was JC's concerned face looking at him. Lance suddenly wondered what JC was thinking at that moment. Quickly opening his eyes, he forced the thoughts out of his mind. This was crazy! He must really be delirious. JC was obviously just concerned about his heath, his well being. What else would he be thinking? And why was he spending so much time agonizing over JC thoughts?

The door slowly opened, causing light from the hallway to spill into the sterile, white room. A head poked in the room and glanced around, taking in the form on the bed. Hearing noises in the hall, he quickly drew himself all the way into the room and quietly shut the door behind him, cutting off the main light supply. A shade was drawn over the single window, blocking out any light that may have come from the outside. Although darkness shrouded the city, the lights in the parking lot were sufficiently bright for the occupants of the room to see.

After drawing back the shades to allow the amber light to filter through the window, JC glanced around the room to find a chair. Seeing one in the shadows in the corner of the room, he quietly drug it across the floor and next to the bed. Sitting down, he reached for the sleeping man's hand, careful not to disturb the IV that was feeding into a vein on the top of his hand. Shuddering at the thought of a needle in his body, JC pulled his gaze upward to the man's face.

He looked so peaceful lying there. The IV fed fluids and medicine into the young man's body, finally allowing him to have a peaceful nights sleep, without the interruptions of night chills and fever. His breathing was steady and even with the occasional raspiness of fluid in the lungs. JC could see his chest rising and falling and he watched the gentle movement, remembering the events of that afternoon.

Lance had insisted he was fine. The whole ride to Disney, JC sat across from him, watching for any sign that would prove otherwise. Lance knew his eyes were on him, and steadily ignored his gaze, resting his head on the back of the limo seat and closing his eyes. JC thought he briefly fell asleep, but he wasn't sure because as soon as the limo stopped, Lance opened his eyes and sat up straight.

JC stared incredulously at Lou. He couldn't believe the coldness in the man's tone. Couldn't he see that Lance was sick? That he should be resting, not performing? JC cleared his throat, “That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, Lou,” he said. He noticed Chris making his way across the stage to where they were standing.

JC swallowed and nodded, “No. He has a fever and he really needs his rest. He performed every night this past week and went to his interviews and did all his PR, and I think he really needs a break.” JC's words came rushing out. He took a deep breath, “This isn't really that important, and he could miss this.”

JC whipped his head in Chris' direction. What? Was Chris actually supporting Lance? JC couldn't believe what he was hearing. Chris always found a reason to get on Lance's case, to ride him. In the beginning it was his dancing, and Lance worked and worked until he was just as good as the others. Then Chris moved on to his hair, and Lance changed his style many times before Chris finally gave up on that. Then Chris moved on to his silly phrases. And everyone noticed that Lance said, “Cause I'm from Mississippi” a lot less lately.

Lou wiped a hand over his face, clearing it of the sweat that was there previous. He then wiped it on his pants, leaving a dark stain. If the situation were different, JC would have laughed at the man's unclassiness. “I don't really care if the Pope agrees with JC,” Lou spoke to Chris, “you are all going to perform this afternoon. You have off tonight and tomorrow, he can sleep then.” Lou gave them one last look and walked away.

Somehow, Lance made it through the three songs they performed. Between each take, he guzzled from a bottle of water while sitting on the edge of the stage. As the others mingled with the crowd in the first few rows, more than one person asked if Lance was okay. JC did his best to smile at each concerned face and make up his lies about Lance just being really tired.

JC gently laid Lance's head on his towel and stood up, getting in Lou's face. “This is your fault,” he spat out angrily, pointing a finger in the man's chest. “You did this to him. You didn't listen when we said he shouldn't go on. If something happens to him, you're the one who has to live with it!”

“I hope you're happy,” he said bitterly. “I hope you got what you wanted today.” JC turned away and then stopped, looking back at Lou, “We're taking him to the hospital now, I hope you're ready for the publicity, cause I'm going to tell everyone exactly why he is in this position.”

Lou smiled thinly at JC. “You will do no such thing. You will tell the press that Lance has the flu or exhaustion or whatever it is he may have. This is not my fault, and no one will believe you. And if you try to go against me, JC,” Lou leaned in close, “I will crush you.”

JC closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the bed next to Lance's arm. His mind was racing with thoughts of Lou. What right did he have to treat them like this? Sure, he gave them their start, but that didn't make them his slaves! Lance should have gone to the hospital or at least a doctor weeks ago! JC knew that, he saw his friend slowly get sicker and sicker. But no, Lou wouldn't give him time off to see someone, it was always, go here for this interview, be here for that appearance. Can't disappoint the fans.

“Well, guess what?” Without waiting for an answer, he plunged on, “Lou tells me that he can loan me money for the house, but I'll have to pay him back in the future. So I say, don't I have this money coming to me? And he spouts out all kinds of bull shit about where our money has gone. Do you guys realize we've only made about twenty-five thousand dollars this year?”

Lance nodded. Just angry. This time, anyway. And what was it last time when Chris got on his case? Oh yeah, he's just tired. He's just hungry, he's just stressed out. It was always something with Chris. Lance was getting pretty sick and tired himself of the way Chris treated him sometimes.

He tuned back into the conversation when he heard JC's voice. Thank God for JC. He was always there when Chris put him down, he was always there to stick up for him. Lance found himself relying on JC, almost hiding behind JC when Chris was around. He found that if he was alone with Chris, or with Chris and Joey or Justin, he didn't say much, he kept to himself a lot more.

JC had tried to talk to Lance about Chris one time. He told him to brush him off, to not let Chris bother him. But Lance couldn't do that. He had never been the type to stand up to people, he always took everything to heart. And sometimes that opened him up for a lot of pain and hurt. But that's who he was, and he can't change who he is.

“He doesn't give a damn about us,” JC was saying. “Look at that day Lance was sick. I asked him to let Lance sit out, and he flatly refused to do it.” Lance glanced at JC in surprise, he hadn't known JC intervened with Lou on his behalf. He ducked his head and smiled as JC continued, “And then he didn't want Lance to go to the hospital.” JC angrily shook his head, “I want out.”

Lance blew out his breath and rested his arms on his knees. Spreading his hands, he shrugged, “It's not going to be easy. We do have a contract with them.” He looked into his friends' defeated eyes, “But, maybe there's some way to prove that he's taking more than his share. There may be a loop hole somewhere.” He turned to JC, “Why don't you have your uncle take a look at the contracts? He may be able to find something.”

The next few months were hell for the guys. As expected, Lou gave them a huge hassle about leaving the label. But the guys were popular enough and respected enough to get an offer from Jive records. Jive wanted them bad enough, they put their best team of lawyers on `N Syncs case. For their parts, the guys felt like they were being pulled in a million directions. They were still recording their next album, most of which had to be re-recorded since Trans-Con owned the rights to the songs, on top of that, they had promotional things to do for the CD. They wanted to keep themselves in the public eye so the fans wouldn't forget about them. On top of that, they weren't really allowed to say anything to the press about what was happening. In reality, they were only able to discuss the lawsuit with a few select people. Mostly, that meant each other.

JC propped his feet up on the balcony railing and stuck a peanut in his mouth. He was quiet for so long, Lance was about to repeat his question. “Sure,” he replied. “I'm worried. Who wouldn't be? I mean, what if Lou wins? Or what if we win but we can't keep our name? Or what if we still have to pay Lou an atrocious amount of money? There's a million questions in my mind, and no answers.” He turned to Lance. “Are you worried?”

JC gently ran his hand over Lance's hair to rid it of the peanut shell, and suddenly, Lance wasn't laughing anymore. JC's fingers were gently on his head, and his scalp tingled where JC touched it. Lance felt his face getting red, and he pulled away, not knowing what the hell just happened.

JC's cell phone rang, preventing him from asking any more questions. Picking it off the table, he raised it to his ear, “Hello?” Lance looked over the city lights and tried not to listen to JC. “Hey Bobbi,” JC's voice had a smile in it, and Lance closed his eyes. “Good, Lance and I are just hanging out,” he turned to Lance, “she says hi.” Lance raised a hand and JC turned back to the phone, “he says hi.” JC stood and walked into the room while talking.

JC shrugged, “I guess because you're such an open person. You let people in easily, it's hard not to like you. And I see you letting girls in, letting them get close, and loving them very quickly.” JC dropped his voice slightly, “I see you as the type of guy who would get hurt a lot for that reason.”

Paradise. Yeah right, he thought. Some paradise. His eyes moved across the floor and rested on JC and Bobbi. They were standing at the punch bowl, talking to JC's parents. JC had his arm slung around her shoulders and when she spoke, he looked down at her with such devotion, it made Lance's heart ache.

People began moving about the crowded room, searching for their loved ones. Lance and Joey remained where they were. Justin broke away from the person he was talking to and moved to their side. Chris and Dani weren't far behind. Lance didn't see JC, and felt a pang of disappointment that he wasn't going to be there.

Balloons fell from the ceiling, confetti was shot out of cannons and everyone seemed to be hugging everyone. JC turned to Bobbi, Chris turned to Dani, and Joey grabbed Lance, Justin jumping on top of them. They shared a laughing group hug before Justin got off Lance's back and Joey let him go. Chris hugged Lance, and then turned to someone else, and Lance turned around.

When Lance spoke of being sick, Joey was transported back to that time. He remembered how frantic JC was. He remembered JC sneaking into Lance's room after visiting hours were over just so Lance wouldn't be alone. He remembered the look on JC's face when he stood up to Lou at Disney. He was sure if he wasn't there, JC would have kicked Lou's fat ass. He thought about how different JC was those few days Lance was in the hospital. It was like his best friend was gone.