Chapter 10a

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*MICHAELANGELO ANTONIONI

CHAPTER TEN - THE AFTERMATH, part a

Lance watched JC's back as he left the room, and felt utterly and completely empty. Where ten minutes ago there was laughter, now there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Lance knew the others were talking around him, but he didn't hear what they were saying. He could not peel his eyes off the door JC just closed.

Lance drew in a shaky breath and forced himself to pull his eyes away from the door. They landed on JC's shot glass. There was a slight bit of the shot in the bottom of the glass that JC didn't drink, and Lance stared at the glass. It was a Washington Redskins shot glass. JC took it everywhere he went, it was the only shot glass he would drink out of on nights like this.

He pulled his gaze away from the shot glass, and it landed on JC's beer glass. God, why was everything in his damn line of sight JC's? The glass was half-empty, and Lance knew the beer had to be lukewarm, JC had only been sipping it for the last half-hour. He looked at the rim of the glass and saw a slight smudge from where JC put his lips after taking his last shot. There was a slight whipped cream residue.

Lance closed his eyes so he wouldn't find anything else of JC's to look at. Seeing nothing but the blackness of his eyelids, he began to comprehend the voices around him.

Joey: “Lance, please, talk to me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it.”

Chris: “How long have you known, Joey? And why didn't you tell me?”

Justin, softer, quieter than the others: “Lance? Please, look at me. Talk to me.”

It was Justin's voice, so close to his ear that finally made him open his eyes. He turned to his right and saw that Justin had taken residence on the empty chair next to him. His hand was still on Lance's arm, and his blue eyes were tinged with sympathy and worry. Lance felt his own eyes well up with tears as he looked at Justin.

“Lance,” Justin started.

Lance shook his head, pursing his lips together in an effort to stop more tears from falling. He was not going to cry like a little girl. “No, Justin,” Lance interrupted him, surprised at the ragged tone his voice had taken on, “please.”

Justin's eyes were wide as he looked at him. “Lance, you have to talk to us.”

Joey knelt down on the other side of Lance, “Please, Lance, talk to me.”

Lance turned to him, his green eyes darkening with anger. “I have nothing to say to you right now, Joey.” Lance pushed his chair back with a scraping sound and stood up; but not before he saw the look of hurt on Joey's face.

Joey slowly stood, “Please, Lance. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say.”

Lance stopped his pacing of the suite to turn to Joey with a bitter smile, “I think you said enough, Joe, don't you?”

Joey stayed where he was next to the table. He raised his hands in a gesture of complete helplessness. “You're right, and if I could take it all back, I would. I never meant to hurt you.”

Lance stared at Joey from across the room, and Joey could see the pain in the younger man's eyes. “Well, I'm hurting now Joey, and let me tell you, it doesn't feel good!” He briefly glanced at the door JC exited through before turning back to Joey.

Joey knew by that simple gesture what Lance was talking about. He nodded, “I know you are, Lance. I wish there was something I could do.”

Wake me up; tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me I didn't just see JC walk out that door without a backwards glance.

“You did enough, Joey.”

“Lance,” Chris cut in on their conversation, “you want to talk about this?”

Lance turned his fiery gaze to Chris and shrugged, “What do you want me to say, Chris? You want me to tell you about my thoughts, my feelings, my insecurities so you can make fun of them, just like you always do?”

Chris flinched at the torrent of Lance's words, realizing he was just lashing out because he was upset. Lance never talked to anyone like that without being provoked. “I'm not going to make fun of you,” he said with sincerity, looking into Lance's eyes.

“Yeah right, Chris. For five years you've been making fun of me, and I took it, I just stood back and took the ribbing and the teasing, hoping you didn't mean half those things you said to me. Well, you know what? This is one thing I won't take, I won't stand by and let you make fun of me because I'm gay.”

Chris crossed the room and stood in front of Lance. He spoke softly, “I would never make fun of you for something like this. It takes courage to admit to being gay, and I admire that, Lance. Even if this didn't come out,” he closed his eyes and shook his head, “no pun intended,” he said before looking back at Lance, “the way you wanted it to, it happened. And for it to have happened, you had to admit it to someone. Unfortunately that someone was Joey, but hey, you can't change that, right?” Chris gave Lance a slight smile. “My point is, it takes a strong man to admit to being different, and you did that. No one can take that away from you, not even me.” His voice dropped, “I wouldn't want to.”

Lance stared at Chris in shock. He searched his face for some form of insincerity, and try as he might, he couldn't find any. He waited for him to grin, take it all back, and go back to the unmerciful teasing. But that didn't happen. Chris held his accusatory gaze and didn't look away.

“You mean that, don't you?” Lance asked in disbelief.

Chris tentatively reached out and touched Lance's shoulder, “Every word.”

Lance smiled slightly at Chris, and once again the older man surprised him. Chris pulled him close and hugged him.

Justin spoke up from across the room, “Well, this is touching and everything, but I think we need to talk.”

Lance pulled back from Chris's embrace and wiped his face with his hand. “You're right, we do.” He sighed as he sat on the sofa and rested his head on the back of it, hearing Joey and Justin making their way to the living room and sitting down. Chris took a seat on one side of Lance and Justin sat on the other side.

Lance smiled to himself at the gestures of his bandmates. It was their silent and subtle way of supporting him. That small step on the part of Justin and Chris spoke volumes to Lance. They were not shutting him out, they were going to stand by him. He turned to Justin and saw confusion and fear in his eyes.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked Justin quietly.

Justin shrugged, his blue eyes flickering to Chris. “I don't know, Lance. I mean, this is quite a shock.”

Lance met and held his gaze, “Does it bother you?”

Justin held Lance's eyes for a moment, and then guiltily looked at the couch. “A little,” he admitted quietly.

Lance felt tears sting the back of his eyes again. First JC, and now Justin. He looked at his hands, folded between his knees, and nodded, biting the inside of his lip to keep the tears at bay. He never expected this from Justin. He didn't expect Justin to have a problem with him. Although he gave the younger boy credit for being honest.

Justin watched Lance struggle next to him on the couch and let out a breath. He began talking, rambling. “Look, Lance, I don't know what I'm feeling right now. I know I'm shocked, I know I'm kind of weirded out, and I know I'm kind of angry. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to turn my back on you, it doesn't mean that I'm going to tell everyone, and it doesn't mean that I don't love you. It just means that it's going to take some time.” He tentatively reached out and touched Lance's shoulder, pretending not to notice the way Lance flinched at his touch. “I don't want it to change anything.”

Lance looked at him. “Change anything? Why in hell would this change anything, Justin? I'm not a different person, I'm still the same Lance that you've known for the past five years! Just because I realized that I like guys doesn't mean that all of a sudden I'm going to be running around in spandex and tying my shirts in a knot!”

Chris burst out laughing at Lance and he turned to look at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Sorry,” Chris said through his laughter, “I'm just picturing you with striped spandex and a pink shirt knotted up at your chest.”

Lance rolled his eyes and turned back to Justin. “You know what, Justin? I've admitted this to myself a few weeks ago. Have you noticed anything different? Have you noticed any changes in the way I'm acting, the way I treat people?” Justin didn't answer. “Well? Have you?”

Justin sighed, “No, I haven't. It's just…” he stood and threw up his hands, “you know what? Maybe it isn't so much you being gay, maybe it's that you didn't trust us enough to tell us! That's what really hurts, Lance. I mean, you were yelling at Joey before about hurting, and yet, you're not even thinking of what I'm going through.”

Lance laughed bitterly, “Well, excuse me for not taking you into consideration, here, Justin. I just had a totally personal thing come to light in the exact opposite way of how I wanted it to happen. And don't lecture me on being hurt, because you don't know the half of it.” Lance stood and walked to the table, picking up the bottle of vodka, and dumping some into a shot glass.

Justin strode to where Lance stood. “I don't know the half of it? If you would try telling me, Lance, that would be a start! But, no! You just stand there preaching to us about how things didn't work out the way you planned, and you wanted to do things differently. Well, when were you going to do things, when were you going to tell us? Next week? Next month? Next year? The next time I took my shirt off and you got a hard on?”

Lance snapped. He lunged for Justin, his fist catching him in the jaw. Joey and Chris, who had been watching from the living room, jumped up and ran to their friends. Lance was on top of Justin, pinning him to the ground, punching him in the chest, in the stomach, tears of rage on his cheeks.

“Let me go!” he yelled at Joey as he picked him up. Joey didn't answer him, and Lance struggled to break free from Joey's hold. His eyes blazed fire at Justin, who was also being restrained by Chris. Although, if truth be told, Chris barely had a hold on Justin.

Justin shrugged off Chris arm and walked away from him, rubbing his jaw, “I'm fine,” he said lowly, “you don't have to restrain me.”

Lance glared at him as he walked into the living room, “You better hope Joey doesn't let me go,” he said.

Chris moved to Lance and took hold of one of his arms, surprised at the force Lance was using to pull away. Joey looked at him gratefully and held onto Lance's other arm with both hands.

“Lance, calm down,” Chris said quietly.

Lance let out a choked sob, “Calm down? Did you hear what he said to me?”

Chris's eyes shot daggers at Justin from across the room, and Justin looked away under his stare. “Yeah, and believe me, if I didn't think that the second I'd let you go, you'd kill him, I'd be kicking his ass right now.”

Justin cursed and shook his head. “I didn't mean it,” he said. “I'm just pissed off.”

Lance looked at Justin, really looked at Justin. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands. He reached up and pulled the black bandanna off his head, exposing the matted down curls underneath. He raked a hand over his head, causing his hair to stand up, and then wiped his face. His eyes were fixated on the floor, and his lower lip was sucked in between his teeth. He only chewed on his lip when he was upset about something, and Lance felt the fight leave his body.

Joey felt the tension leave Lance and he slowly let go of his arm, staying close just in case Lance snapped again. Chris did the same on his side of Lance, immediately moving to Justin.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked him, standing above him.

Justin sighed and closed his eyes. “I don't know,” he said raggedly.

“Well, you better figure it out real quick, because the next time you say something like that to him, I swear to God, I won't hold him back.” Chris turned to Lance and Joey. “It's late, and I'm going to bed.” He stepped closer to Lance, “If you want to talk, you know where to find me.”

Lance nodded and attempted to smile. Chris walked to the door of the suite and let himself out.

Justin stood at the sound of the door shutting. “Um,” he said nervously, not really looking at Lance, “I guess I'll go, too. I want to check on JC.”

Lance felt pain rip through his body as JC's name was mentioned and he felt Joey move a little closer in a silent support. He stared at Justin as he moved towards the door.

His hand reached out to turn the knob and it stopped. He hung his head and slowly turned around. He moved across the room, towards Lance, and Joey tensed, waiting for something bad to happen. Justin reached Lance, and only then did Joey see the tears in the younger man's eyes.

“Shit, Lance,” Justin whispered, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear.” He practically threw himself at Lance, catching him in a hug.

Lance staggered backwards as Justin's weight hit him and Joey's hand on his back steadied him. He hugged Justin back. “It's okay,” he said.

Justin pulled away, “No, it's not. But, thanks anyway.” He quickly crossed the room and left.

Joey turned to Lance. “I know you don't want to talk to me right now, so I'll go. I just want you to know that I really am sorry.”

Lance nodded silently, and Joey left the room.

Lance stared at the door, not seeing anything. So, that was it. His secret was out in the open. He moved towards his bedroom door, not bothering to turn on the light, the darkness was reassuring. He fell onto the bed, and finally let himself cry.

He cried because they knew.

He cried because of the way Joey told everyone.

He cried because of the unexpected support of Chris.

He cried because of the way Justin reacted.

He cried because of JC.

He cried himself to sleep, the image of JC's retreating back burned onto his mind.


	Inner Reflection \| home back to Secret Desires Chapter 10a EVERTHING HURTS. *MICHAELANGELO ANTONIONI CHAPTER TEN - THE AFTERMATH, part a Lance watched JC's back as he left the room, and felt utterly and completely empty. Where ten minutes ago there was laughter, now there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Lance knew the others were talking around him, but he didn't hear what they were saying. He could not peel his eyes off the door JC just closed. Closed on him. Lance drew in a shaky breath and forced himself to pull his eyes away from the door. They landed on JC's shot glass. There was a slight bit of the shot in the bottom of the glass that JC didn't drink, and Lance stared at the glass. It was a Washington Redskins shot glass. JC took it everywhere he went, it was the only shot glass he would drink out of on nights like this. He pulled his gaze away from the shot glass, and it landed on JC's beer glass. God, why was everything in his damn line of sight JC's? The glass was half-empty, and Lance knew the beer had to be lukewarm, JC had only been sipping it for the last half-hour. He looked at the rim of the glass and saw a slight smudge from where JC put his lips after taking his last shot. There was a slight whipped cream residue. Lance closed his eyes so he wouldn't find anything else of JC's to look at. Seeing nothing but the blackness of his eyelids, he began to comprehend the voices around him. Joey: “Lance, please, talk to me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it.” Chris: “How long have you known, Joey? And why didn't you tell me?” Justin, softer, quieter than the others: “Lance? Please, look at me. Talk to me.” It was Justin's voice, so close to his ear that finally made him open his eyes. He turned to his right and saw that Justin had taken residence on the empty chair next to him. His hand was still on Lance's arm, and his blue eyes were tinged with sympathy and worry. Lance felt his own eyes well up with tears as he looked at Justin. “Lance,” Justin started. Lance shook his head, pursing his lips together in an effort to stop more tears from falling. He was not going to cry like a little girl. “No, Justin,” Lance interrupted him, surprised at the ragged tone his voice had taken on, “please.” Justin's eyes were wide as he looked at him. “Lance, you have to talk to us.” Joey knelt down on the other side of Lance, “Please, Lance, talk to me.” Lance turned to him, his green eyes darkening with anger. “I have nothing to say to you right now, Joey.” Lance pushed his chair back with a scraping sound and stood up; but not before he saw the look of hurt on Joey's face. Joey slowly stood, “Please, Lance. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say.” Lance stopped his pacing of the suite to turn to Joey with a bitter smile, “I think you said enough, Joe, don't you?” Joey stayed where he was next to the table. He raised his hands in a gesture of complete helplessness. “You're right, and if I could take it all back, I would. I never meant to hurt you.” Lance stared at Joey from across the room, and Joey could see the pain in the younger man's eyes. “Well, I'm hurting now Joey, and let me tell you, it doesn't feel good!” He briefly glanced at the door JC exited through before turning back to Joey. Joey knew by that simple gesture what Lance was talking about. He nodded, “I know you are, Lance. I wish there was something I could do.” Wake me up; tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me I didn't just see JC walk out that door without a backwards glance. “You did enough, Joey.” “Lance,” Chris cut in on their conversation, “you want to talk about this?” Lance turned his fiery gaze to Chris and shrugged, “What do you want me to say, Chris? You want me to tell you about my thoughts, my feelings, my insecurities so you can make fun of them, just like you always do?” Chris flinched at the torrent of Lance's words, realizing he was just lashing out because he was upset. Lance never talked to anyone like that without being provoked. “I'm not going to make fun of you,” he said with sincerity, looking into Lance's eyes. “Yeah right, Chris. For five years you've been making fun of me, and I took it, I just stood back and took the ribbing and the teasing, hoping you didn't mean half those things you said to me. Well, you know what? This is one thing I won't take, I won't stand by and let you make fun of me because I'm gay.” Chris crossed the room and stood in front of Lance. He spoke softly, “I would never make fun of you for something like this. It takes courage to admit to being gay, and I admire that, Lance. Even if this didn't come out,” he closed his eyes and shook his head, “no pun intended,” he said before looking back at Lance, “the way you wanted it to, it happened. And for it to have happened, you had to admit it to someone. Unfortunately that someone was Joey, but hey, you can't change that, right?” Chris gave Lance a slight smile. “My point is, it takes a strong man to admit to being different, and you did that. No one can take that away from you, not even me.” His voice dropped, “I wouldn't want to.” Lance stared at Chris in shock. He searched his face for some form of insincerity, and try as he might, he couldn't find any. He waited for him to grin, take it all back, and go back to the unmerciful teasing. But that didn't happen. Chris held his accusatory gaze and didn't look away. “You mean that, don't you?” Lance asked in disbelief. Chris tentatively reached out and touched Lance's shoulder, “Every word.” Lance smiled slightly at Chris, and once again the older man surprised him. Chris pulled him close and hugged him. Justin spoke up from across the room, “Well, this is touching and everything, but I think we need to talk.” Lance pulled back from Chris's embrace and wiped his face with his hand. “You're right, we do.” He sighed as he sat on the sofa and rested his head on the back of it, hearing Joey and Justin making their way to the living room and sitting down. Chris took a seat on one side of Lance and Justin sat on the other side. Lance smiled to himself at the gestures of his bandmates. It was their silent and subtle way of supporting him. That small step on the part of Justin and Chris spoke volumes to Lance. They were not shutting him out, they were going to stand by him. He turned to Justin and saw confusion and fear in his eyes. “What do you want me to say?” he asked Justin quietly. Justin shrugged, his blue eyes flickering to Chris. “I don't know, Lance. I mean, this is quite a shock.” Lance met and held his gaze, “Does it bother you?” Justin held Lance's eyes for a moment, and then guiltily looked at the couch. “A little,” he admitted quietly. Lance felt tears sting the back of his eyes again. First JC, and now Justin. He looked at his hands, folded between his knees, and nodded, biting the inside of his lip to keep the tears at bay. He never expected this from Justin. He didn't expect Justin to have a problem with him. Although he gave the younger boy credit for being honest. Justin watched Lance struggle next to him on the couch and let out a breath. He began talking, rambling. “Look, Lance, I don't know what I'm feeling right now. I know I'm shocked, I know I'm kind of weirded out, and I know I'm kind of angry. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to turn my back on you, it doesn't mean that I'm going to tell everyone, and it doesn't mean that I don't love you. It just means that it's going to take some time.” He tentatively reached out and touched Lance's shoulder, pretending not to notice the way Lance flinched at his touch. “I don't want it to change anything.” Lance looked at him. “Change anything? Why in hell would this change anything, Justin? I'm not a different person, I'm still the same Lance that you've known for the past five years! Just because I realized that I like guys doesn't mean that all of a sudden I'm going to be running around in spandex and tying my shirts in a knot!” Chris burst out laughing at Lance and he turned to look at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Sorry,” Chris said through his laughter, “I'm just picturing you with striped spandex and a pink shirt knotted up at your chest.” Lance rolled his eyes and turned back to Justin. “You know what, Justin? I've admitted this to myself a few weeks ago. Have you noticed anything different? Have you noticed any changes in the way I'm acting, the way I treat people?” Justin didn't answer. “Well? Have you?” Justin sighed, “No, I haven't. It's just…” he stood and threw up his hands, “you know what? Maybe it isn't so much you being gay, maybe it's that you didn't trust us enough to tell us! That's what really hurts, Lance. I mean, you were yelling at Joey before about hurting, and yet, you're not even thinking of what I'm going through.” Lance laughed bitterly, “Well, excuse me for not taking you into consideration, here, Justin. I just had a totally personal thing come to light in the exact opposite way of how I wanted it to happen. And don't lecture me on being hurt, because you don't know the half of it.” Lance stood and walked to the table, picking up the bottle of vodka, and dumping some into a shot glass. His shot glass. Justin strode to where Lance stood. “I don't know the half of it? If you would try telling me, Lance, that would be a start! But, no! You just stand there preaching to us about how things didn't work out the way you planned, and you wanted to do things differently. Well, when were you going to do things, when were you going to tell us? Next week? Next month? Next year? The next time I took my shirt off and you got a hard on?” Lance snapped. He lunged for Justin, his fist catching him in the jaw. Joey and Chris, who had been watching from the living room, jumped up and ran to their friends. Lance was on top of Justin, pinning him to the ground, punching him in the chest, in the stomach, tears of rage on his cheeks. “Let me go!” he yelled at Joey as he picked him up. Joey didn't answer him, and Lance struggled to break free from Joey's hold. His eyes blazed fire at Justin, who was also being restrained by Chris. Although, if truth be told, Chris barely had a hold on Justin. Justin shrugged off Chris arm and walked away from him, rubbing his jaw, “I'm fine,” he said lowly, “you don't have to restrain me.” Lance glared at him as he walked into the living room, “You better hope Joey doesn't let me go,” he said. Chris moved to Lance and took hold of one of his arms, surprised at the force Lance was using to pull away. Joey looked at him gratefully and held onto Lance's other arm with both hands. “Lance, calm down,” Chris said quietly. Lance let out a choked sob, “Calm down? Did you hear what he said to me?” Chris's eyes shot daggers at Justin from across the room, and Justin looked away under his stare. “Yeah, and believe me, if I didn't think that the second I'd let you go, you'd kill him, I'd be kicking his ass right now.” Justin cursed and shook his head. “I didn't mean it,” he said. “I'm just pissed off.” Lance looked at Justin, really looked at Justin. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands. He reached up and pulled the black bandanna off his head, exposing the matted down curls underneath. He raked a hand over his head, causing his hair to stand up, and then wiped his face. His eyes were fixated on the floor, and his lower lip was sucked in between his teeth. He only chewed on his lip when he was upset about something, and Lance felt the fight leave his body. Joey felt the tension leave Lance and he slowly let go of his arm, staying close just in case Lance snapped again. Chris did the same on his side of Lance, immediately moving to Justin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked him, standing above him. Justin sighed and closed his eyes. “I don't know,” he said raggedly. “Well, you better figure it out real quick, because the next time you say something like that to him, I swear to God, I won't hold him back.” Chris turned to Lance and Joey. “It's late, and I'm going to bed.” He stepped closer to Lance, “If you want to talk, you know where to find me.” Lance nodded and attempted to smile. Chris walked to the door of the suite and let himself out. Justin stood at the sound of the door shutting. “Um,” he said nervously, not really looking at Lance, “I guess I'll go, too. I want to check on JC.” Lance felt pain rip through his body as JC's name was mentioned and he felt Joey move a little closer in a silent support. He stared at Justin as he moved towards the door. His hand reached out to turn the knob and it stopped. He hung his head and slowly turned around. He moved across the room, towards Lance, and Joey tensed, waiting for something bad to happen. Justin reached Lance, and only then did Joey see the tears in the younger man's eyes. “Shit, Lance,” Justin whispered, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear.” He practically threw himself at Lance, catching him in a hug. Lance staggered backwards as Justin's weight hit him and Joey's hand on his back steadied him. He hugged Justin back. “It's okay,” he said. Justin pulled away, “No, it's not. But, thanks anyway.” He quickly crossed the room and left. Joey turned to Lance. “I know you don't want to talk to me right now, so I'll go. I just want you to know that I really am sorry.” Lance nodded silently, and Joey left the room. Lance stared at the door, not seeing anything. So, that was it. His secret was out in the open. He moved towards his bedroom door, not bothering to turn on the light, the darkness was reassuring. He fell onto the bed, and finally let himself cry. He cried because they knew. He cried because of the way Joey told everyone. He cried because of the unexpected support of Chris. He cried because of the way Justin reacted. He cried because of JC. He cried himself to sleep, the image of JC's retreating back burned onto his mind.