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Chapter 7
GIVE ME THE BENEFIT OF YOUR CONVICTIONS, IF YOU HAVE ANY; BUT KEEP YOUR DOUBTS TO YOURSELF, FOR I HAVE ENOUGH OF MY OWN.
    *JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE

 CHAPTER SEVEN--DOUBTS

The morning came quickly for Lance and he groaned as he opened his eyes.  A sliver of sunlight streamed through a crack in the heavy hotel room drapes, but it was just enough to send a shearing pain through his skull.  Immediately, he threw his arm over his eyes, at the same time turning on his side in a desperate attempt to not see any light.  

Did he really drink that much?  He honestly didn't remember how many he had.  Lance tried to mentally count the number of drinks and bottles of beer he had.  Six or so at the club…and how many on the balcony talking to Joey?  Three?  Four?

“Advil,” he mumbled.  Cautiously sitting up, keeping his back to the windows, he moved to the edge of the bed.  Resting his feet on the floor, he ran his tongue along his teeth trying to work up some saliva to get rid of the case of cottonmouth he had. He stood slowly, the weight in his head causing him to close his eyes.  He shuffled to the bathroom where he knew there was a bottle of Advil sitting on the sink.  Without turning on the light, he opened the bottle and took out four pills.  Swallowing them with a glass of water, he turned and went back to the bed.

Sighing, he got back under the covers and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.  Except for the killer headache, he felt surprisingly good.  There was no more uncertainty, no more questions.  His talk with Joey helped more than he ever thought possible.  There was now someone else who knew his secret.  Someone he could confide in, someone who would maybe understand.

Lance smiled at that thought.  Yeah right, Joey understands unrequited love for another man.   

Well, maybe not quite understand…

Lance's thoughts turned the rest of the guys.  Joey took it better than Lance expected, maybe he could tell the others.  It felt ten times better to talk about it, to not have to hide around his friends.  Lance was actually surprised at Joey's reaction.  He wanted to know things.  He actually wanted to know about Lance's love for JC.  He wasn't repulsed, or put off by it.  Maybe the others would be like that.  A nagging thought in the back of his mind was screaming to him that he wasn't giving his friends, his brothers, enough credit.

Justin.  He was the youngest.  Perhaps the most open-minded about stuff like this.  He hated racism, and even though this wasn't quite the same thing, Lance figured Justin as the type of guy to hate any kind of discrimination, whether it was racism or homosexuality.  He would probably be shocked, okay, he would definitely be shocked, but Lance figured Justin would be fine with it, and move on.

Chris.  Chris was a different story.  Sure, he was one of Lance's best friends, but there was still that slight hostility beneath the surface.  There was still the fact that Chris wouldn't let up.  For some reason, Chris took it upon himself to make fun of everything Lance did.  And this would be no exception, Lance was sure.  He would be opening himself up to a whole new can of worms with Chris.  But would he hate him?  That was a different story.  Chris wasn't the type of guy to hate someone just because he was different.  He would probably have to endure a lot of teasing, and maybe some slight hostility, but in the end, Lance was sure Chris would be the same person around him he always was.

JC.  Josh.  Joshua.  Lance closed his eyes.  He didn't even want to think about this.  He was the reason Lance was having this mental conversation with himself.  He was the reason Lance was beginning to doubt everything he believed in.  He was the reason Lance was miserable the past week.  He was becoming the reason Lance woke up every morning.  The reason he lived.

Maybe it was because he was the one Lance was most worried about, but he had no idea how JC would react to the news.  He could take it all in stride, look at him and say, “Hey, you know what?  You're still the same person.”  On the other hand, he could get pissed off call him a faggot and never want to speak to him again.

Option A, Lance thought, let's go with that first.

Okay, so let's say he takes it well, he thought.  Great.  Nothing changes between us, we're still the best of friends.  We still have long talks about life on the road, missing our families, girlfriends.  Lance smiled, well, JC's girlfriend anyway.  But would that be so great?  Would he be able to be around him every single
day and not once let something slip about how he felt?  Lance sighed, well, you've been doing it so far.

Yeah, for a week!  A week is a hell of a lot different than a month, or a year, or however long this group was going to last.  And even afterwards, their friendship was going to go on.  And if JC knows Lance is gay, that changes everything, too.  He would ask why Lance never had a boyfriend, what was holding him back from dating.  And then what?  Lance wasn't a good liar, especially if he looked into those impossibly sky blue eyes of JC's.  He'd crack in a second.

Okay, let's explore option B.

Lance tells JC.  JC gets up and starts yelling at him.  How could you be gay?  You're a fag!  I don't want you in the group anymore, and if you are, stay the hell away from me!  

Lance closed his eyes as he thought about that particular reaction.  Would he be able to handle that?  Would he be able to handle the fact that JC, the person he was in love with, couldn't stand the sight of him?  Maybe that would be easier than if he understood.  At least Lance would know where he stood.  He wouldn't sit around wondering if maybe, one day, JC could return his feelings.

But he could see the look in JC's eyes.  He could see the hatred, the betrayal that JC would feel.  He could see the hardening of his jaw, the anger flashing in those stormy eyes.  He could picture JC's lanky frame stiffening, his halted hand gestures as he let out his tirade on Lance.

Lance opened his eyes to the sunlight of the room.  Nope, that option was no better than the first.

So he was right back where he started.