Chapter 19

IF YOU HATE A PERSON, YOU HATE SOMETHING IN HIM THAT IS A PART OF YOURSELF. WHAT ISN'T PART OF OURSELVES DOESN'T DISTURB US.

The knife of JC's words sliced into Lance's chest and he forgot how to breathe. His knees gave out and he fell to the couch, his chest constricting from the pressure and he took in a deep breath. The breath was shallow, causing him to take in another and another. The hot tears coursed over his cheeks and he let them fall onto his pants, the wetness causing a dark spot on his gray sweats.

He shook his head wordlessly, this wasn't supposed to happen. JC wasn't supposed to hate him. He couldn't even look up at JC, who he assumed was still standing in the doorway. The breaths he took were not enough to fill his lungs, and his silent crying soon escalated into sobbing as he struggled to breathe.

He rocked back and forth on the couch, not caring what JC thought of him anymore, not caring if JC thought he was a baby for crying, if he thought he was nothing more than a fag. JC didn't care about him, so why should Lance care what he thought? JC didn't care about Lance's feelings, tossing them aside like yesterday's newspaper when he told Lance he hated him.

He never heard the door open, but he felt strong arms around him. A voice was at his ear, whispering how everything was going to be okay. Whispering questions, what happened, are you okay, what did he do? Lance's gaze was on the carpeted floor in front of him, the questions going unanswered.

JC watched Lance crumble in front of him and it tore his heart in two. He closed his eyes against the sight of Lance rocking on the couch, staring into nothingness, and turned to the door. He knocked on it, knowing that the others were right outside, listening to everything that was being said.

“Justin, if you know what's good for you, let me out, now,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Joey needs to come in here, Lance needs him.”

The door swung open immediately, and Joey pushed JC aside, looking for Lance. Seeing him on the couch, he turned to JC, “What the hell did you do to him?”

JC turned away from his angry eyes. It didn't matter where he looked, though; Chris and Justin were shooting accusatory looks at him as well. “I screwed up, Joe.”

JC unclenched Chris's hands from his shirt and pushed by him, “I don't know how.” He walked out the door and moved towards the front of the bus.

Justin watched him go, “I'll go talk to him.” He looked at Lance on the couch, who didn't even realize they stepped into the room, “Make sure he's okay,” he pleaded with Joey.

Joey nodded and sat next to Lance on the couch, pulling him close. Chris knelt on the floor in front of him, his hands on his knees, softly asking him if he was okay. Justin, satisfied that Chris and Joey were going to make everything okay, turned and went after JC.

Justin found him standing next to the refrigerator, the door open, JC staring blankly inside. Anger surfaced in Justin and he pushed JC, slamming the door shut. “What the hell happened in there?”

JC fell backwards, catching himself on the table. He turned his stunned eyes to Justin, “None of your business.”

“None of my business? JC, you left Lance in there, crying, hardly able to breathe, and you tell me it's none of my business? I think it is!” Justin forced JC into the booth and stood in front of it, blocking his exit. “Now, you better talk, and you better tell me the truth.”

JC turned his head, his cheek against his forearms and didn't meet Justin's eyes. “He told me he loves me,” he said quietly.

Even though Justin already knew this, courtesy of Joey, his eyes widened. He didn't expect Lance to tell JC that. He didn't expect that an hour trapped in a room would have Lance telling JC everything just like he used to. “He what?” Justin asked.

“He told me he loved me,” JC replied, picking his head off his arms. Leaning back in the booth, he stared at the closed door to the room that held Lance, and ran his hand through his hair.

JC's eyes flickered to Justin's briefly before he looked away. He shook his head, “I can't, Justin. Please, leave me alone.”

Justin placed one hand on the table and one on the back of the booth. Leaning down, he looked JC in the eyes, “What did you do?” he asked slowly.

Justin sucked his breath in between his teeth and stood upright. His eyes were fixated on JC's face, unblinking, staring at him hoping he didn't hear what JC just said. Shaking his head, he said, “You did not. JC, tell me you did not say that to him.”

JC saw the tears hit the table, rather than felt them roll down his face. He nodded, “I did, Justin. And then he just sort of collapsed onto the couch. And,” he looked up, “well, you saw him.”

“You bastard,” Joey said, pushing Justin aside, and pulling JC out of the booth. “How could you? Did you deliberately want to hurt him?”

JC struggled to get free from Joey's grip, but it was pointless. Joey had a hold of his upper arms and JC winced at the pain. “No,” he said.

Joey's eyes widened, and he ignored Chris, who was standing next to him, telling him to let JC go. “No?” he repeated. “You didn't want to hurt him?” JC shook his head and Joey continued. “Then what the hell was that? Why would you do that? Can't you see how much he cares for you?” Joey released him, pushing him back into the booth. “Are you fucking blind, Josh?”

JC shrank back, putting distance between himself and Joey. He was actually afraid, he had never seen Joey this angry. He looked between Joey, Chris and Justin, each with expressions of various degrees of anger and disapproval. He felt his resolve shatter and he began to cry.

Chris sat across from him, “Make me understand, then, JC. Make me see why you're being such an asshole to your best friend.” His eyes bored into JC's, “Make me understand why you felt the need to hurt him.”

Joey snorted in anger and walked out of the room, saying he was going to check on Lance. JC watched him go, wanting to get up and chase him, tell him that he didn't mean it, that he was just confused, he really didn't hate Lance.

Chris leaned forward, “here's the deal, JC, so listen up. We have one more show tonight before we get a few days off in Orlando. You have until the end of our little vacation to make things right.”

Chris shook his head, “Or else I let Joey take a shot at your sorry ass. And trust me on this one, JC, he's angry enough to kill you.” Chris slid out of the booth and went in the direction of the bunks.

JC stood up and walked to his bunk, climbing in and shutting the curtain. He turned the small light on overhead, illuminating the bunk. Clasping his hands behind his head, he stared at the top of the bunk. He heard movement beyond his curtain, and knew the others were going to sleep. He strained his ears to hear the curtains being pulled open and shut, and when he only heard two, he wondered who was still up.

Turning his attention back to the ceiling of his own private space, he waited until he thought the others were asleep before he allowed his tears to fall. Well, he did it. He succeeded in pushing Lance away, and this time maybe for good. What possessed him to tell Lance that he hated him? It wasn't true.

Okay, it was partly true. JC was pretty sure it wasn't hate, but he did feel some kind of resentment towards the younger man. He was perfectly happy with his life before Lance decided he was gay. He was perfectly happy being Lance's best friend, being Bobbi's boyfriend, being the serious one, being one fifths of *NSYNC. Lance admitting he was gay went and threw a wrench into the whole deal. He was no longer Lance's best friend, he was no longer happy with Bobbi. He became more and more reclusive, he no longer felt as if he was really a part of this group.

So, he did hate him. He hated that Lance made him question everything he thought was true. He hated that Lance brought out these feelings that JC pushed aside, that JC didn't want to admit to. He hated that lately one look from Lance would make him smile. He hated that listening to Lance's voice made him want to close his eyes and listen to nothing else all day. He hated that when he tried to write songs, Lance's face would pop into his mind, and all he was able to write was cheesy love song lyrics.

The next day was pure hell for each of the guys. The tension between Lance and JC was obvious, the others feeling the repercussions of the fight. Joey stuck by Lance's side most of the day, trying to cheer him up, Chris pretty much ignored JC, only talking to him to remind him that he had a week to make things right. Justin stayed with JC, trying to get him to open up and talk to him, not even flinching when JC yelled at him.

The concert didn't go much better. JC's vocals were flat, he wasn't as hyper as he usually was, he went through the motions, doing the choreography that was planned, adding nothing extra to his performance.

It was as if Lance reverted back to before the guys hit it big. He missed his mark in a few of the steps, he almost dropped Chris during his flip in I Want You Back, Space Cowboy was a total disaster, and he was horrified to hear that his voice cracked during This I Promise You.

He stood on the platform, waving to the fans, and tried not to look at JC at all. But his resolve wasn't strong enough. As he was turning away from the left side of the arena, he turned the wrong way and caught JC's frame as he sang. It was during the bridge and JC was looking right at him as he sang the words to the crowd.

And then it was over. Justin was telling the crowd to wave their hands, and JC turned back to the crowd, smiling at someone in the audience. Lance shook his head, telling himself that it didn't happen, JC wasn't singing to him, that was ridiculous. JC hated him. He said so himself.


	Inner Reflection \| home back to Secret Desires Chapter 19 IF YOU HATE A PERSON, YOU HATE SOMETHING IN HIM THAT IS A PART OF YOURSELF. WHAT ISN'T PART OF OURSELVES DOESN'T DISTURB US. HERMANN HESSE, DEMIAN* CHAPTER NINETEEN - HATE? The knife of JC's words sliced into Lance's chest and he forgot how to breathe. His knees gave out and he fell to the couch, his chest constricting from the pressure and he took in a deep breath. The breath was shallow, causing him to take in another and another. The hot tears coursed over his cheeks and he let them fall onto his pants, the wetness causing a dark spot on his gray sweats. He shook his head wordlessly, this wasn't supposed to happen. JC wasn't supposed to hate him. He couldn't even look up at JC, who he assumed was still standing in the doorway. The breaths he took were not enough to fill his lungs, and his silent crying soon escalated into sobbing as he struggled to breathe. He rocked back and forth on the couch, not caring what JC thought of him anymore, not caring if JC thought he was a baby for crying, if he thought he was nothing more than a fag. JC didn't care about him, so why should Lance care what he thought? JC didn't care about Lance's feelings, tossing them aside like yesterday's newspaper when he told Lance he hated him. He never heard the door open, but he felt strong arms around him. A voice was at his ear, whispering how everything was going to be okay. Whispering questions, what happened, are you okay, what did he do? Lance's gaze was on the carpeted floor in front of him, the questions going unanswered. JC watched Lance crumble in front of him and it tore his heart in two. He closed his eyes against the sight of Lance rocking on the couch, staring into nothingness, and turned to the door. He knocked on it, knowing that the others were right outside, listening to everything that was being said. “Justin, if you know what's good for you, let me out, now,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Joey needs to come in here, Lance needs him.” The door swung open immediately, and Joey pushed JC aside, looking for Lance. Seeing him on the couch, he turned to JC, “What the hell did you do to him?” JC turned away from his angry eyes. It didn't matter where he looked, though; Chris and Justin were shooting accusatory looks at him as well. “I screwed up, Joe.” Chris grabbed him by the collar of his T-shirt, “Fix it, JC.” JC unclenched Chris's hands from his shirt and pushed by him, “I don't know how.” He walked out the door and moved towards the front of the bus. Justin watched him go, “I'll go talk to him.” He looked at Lance on the couch, who didn't even realize they stepped into the room, “Make sure he's okay,” he pleaded with Joey. Joey nodded and sat next to Lance on the couch, pulling him close. Chris knelt on the floor in front of him, his hands on his knees, softly asking him if he was okay. Justin, satisfied that Chris and Joey were going to make everything okay, turned and went after JC. Justin found him standing next to the refrigerator, the door open, JC staring blankly inside. Anger surfaced in Justin and he pushed JC, slamming the door shut. “What the hell happened in there?” JC fell backwards, catching himself on the table. He turned his stunned eyes to Justin, “None of your business.” “None of my business? JC, you left Lance in there, crying, hardly able to breathe, and you tell me it's none of my business? I think it is!” Justin forced JC into the booth and stood in front of it, blocking his exit. “Now, you better talk, and you better tell me the truth.” JC sighed, his head falling onto his arms, which were folded on the table. “I screwed up, Justin.” “So you mentioned,” Justin said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. JC turned his head, his cheek against his forearms and didn't meet Justin's eyes. “He told me he loves me,” he said quietly. Even though Justin already knew this, courtesy of Joey, his eyes widened. He didn't expect Lance to tell JC that. He didn't expect that an hour trapped in a room would have Lance telling JC everything just like he used to. “He what?” Justin asked. “He told me he loved me,” JC replied, picking his head off his arms. Leaning back in the booth, he stared at the closed door to the room that held Lance, and ran his hand through his hair. Justin leaned forward, “What did you do?” he asked, dreading the answer. JC's eyes flickered to Justin's briefly before he looked away. He shook his head, “I can't, Justin. Please, leave me alone.” Justin placed one hand on the table and one on the back of the booth. Leaning down, he looked JC in the eyes, “What did you do?” he asked slowly. JC's eyes fell to the table, and when he spoke, Justin had to strain to hear. “I told him I hated him.” Justin sucked his breath in between his teeth and stood upright. His eyes were fixated on JC's face, unblinking, staring at him hoping he didn't hear what JC just said. Shaking his head, he said, “You did not. JC, tell me you did not say that to him.” JC saw the tears hit the table, rather than felt them roll down his face. He nodded, “I did, Justin. And then he just sort of collapsed onto the couch. And,” he looked up, “well, you saw him.” Justin slammed his hand on the table, “How could you, JC? How could you tell him something like that?” JC didn't get a chance to answer because the door to the back room opened and Joey came out, fury in his eyes. “You bastard,” Joey said, pushing Justin aside, and pulling JC out of the booth. “How could you? Did you deliberately want to hurt him?” JC struggled to get free from Joey's grip, but it was pointless. Joey had a hold of his upper arms and JC winced at the pain. “No,” he said. Joey's eyes widened, and he ignored Chris, who was standing next to him, telling him to let JC go. “No?” he repeated. “You didn't want to hurt him?” JC shook his head and Joey continued. “Then what the hell was that? Why would you do that? Can't you see how much he cares for you?” Joey released him, pushing him back into the booth. “Are you fucking blind, Josh?” JC shrank back, putting distance between himself and Joey. He was actually afraid, he had never seen Joey this angry. He looked between Joey, Chris and Justin, each with expressions of various degrees of anger and disapproval. He felt his resolve shatter and he began to cry. Justin cracked first and sat next to JC. “Please, JC, talk to us. Help us understand.” Chris finally spoke, his voice bitter, “I think we understand, Justin.” JC looked up, anger in his eyes, “You don't understand, Chris, so don't act like you do.” Chris sat across from him, “Make me understand, then, JC. Make me see why you're being such an asshole to your best friend.” His eyes bored into JC's, “Make me understand why you felt the need to hurt him.” JC shook his head, “No. I can't talk about this right now.” Joey snorted in anger and walked out of the room, saying he was going to check on Lance. JC watched him go, wanting to get up and chase him, tell him that he didn't mean it, that he was just confused, he really didn't hate Lance. Chris leaned forward, “here's the deal, JC, so listen up. We have one more show tonight before we get a few days off in Orlando. You have until the end of our little vacation to make things right.” “Or else what?” JC asked. Chris shook his head, “Or else I let Joey take a shot at your sorry ass. And trust me on this one, JC, he's angry enough to kill you.” Chris slid out of the booth and went in the direction of the bunks. Justin stared at JC. “Please, JC, can we talk about this?” JC shook his head and pushed Justin out of the booth. “No. I can't, Justin. Maybe tomorrow.” JC stood up and walked to his bunk, climbing in and shutting the curtain. He turned the small light on overhead, illuminating the bunk. Clasping his hands behind his head, he stared at the top of the bunk. He heard movement beyond his curtain, and knew the others were going to sleep. He strained his ears to hear the curtains being pulled open and shut, and when he only heard two, he wondered who was still up. Turning his attention back to the ceiling of his own private space, he waited until he thought the others were asleep before he allowed his tears to fall. Well, he did it. He succeeded in pushing Lance away, and this time maybe for good. What possessed him to tell Lance that he hated him? It wasn't true. Okay, it was partly true. JC was pretty sure it wasn't hate, but he did feel some kind of resentment towards the younger man. He was perfectly happy with his life before Lance decided he was gay. He was perfectly happy being Lance's best friend, being Bobbi's boyfriend, being the serious one, being one fifths of *NSYNC. Lance admitting he was gay went and threw a wrench into the whole deal. He was no longer Lance's best friend, he was no longer happy with Bobbi. He became more and more reclusive, he no longer felt as if he was really a part of this group. So, he did hate him. He hated that Lance made him question everything he thought was true. He hated that Lance brought out these feelings that JC pushed aside, that JC didn't want to admit to. He hated that lately one look from Lance would make him smile. He hated that listening to Lance's voice made him want to close his eyes and listen to nothing else all day. He hated that when he tried to write songs, Lance's face would pop into his mind, and all he was able to write was cheesy love song lyrics. He hated that he knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would never be happy if Lance wasn't at his side. The next day was pure hell for each of the guys. The tension between Lance and JC was obvious, the others feeling the repercussions of the fight. Joey stuck by Lance's side most of the day, trying to cheer him up, Chris pretty much ignored JC, only talking to him to remind him that he had a week to make things right. Justin stayed with JC, trying to get him to open up and talk to him, not even flinching when JC yelled at him. The concert didn't go much better. JC's vocals were flat, he wasn't as hyper as he usually was, he went through the motions, doing the choreography that was planned, adding nothing extra to his performance. It was as if Lance reverted back to before the guys hit it big. He missed his mark in a few of the steps, he almost dropped Chris during his flip in I Want You Back, Space Cowboy was a total disaster, and he was horrified to hear that his voice cracked during This I Promise You. He stood on the platform, waving to the fans, and tried not to look at JC at all. But his resolve wasn't strong enough. As he was turning away from the left side of the arena, he turned the wrong way and caught JC's frame as he sang. It was during the bridge and JC was looking right at him as he sang the words to the crowd. “Without you in my life, I just wouldn't be living at all.” That was when he cracked. His harmony was shot to hell as JC sang to him. And then it was over. Justin was telling the crowd to wave their hands, and JC turned back to the crowd, smiling at someone in the audience. Lance shook his head, telling himself that it didn't happen, JC wasn't singing to him, that was ridiculous. JC hated him. He said so himself. That didn't stop the smile that came across his face.