“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
JC nodded, lying again, for the second time that week in a hospital bed, they running labs to check his stats and immune system. “I’m sure, Justin; what other option do I have? It’s been almost five months.”
Justin nodded. It was now mid-January, JC’s health staying the same, if not a little better since his stint with pneumonia around Christmas. Today had been a pretty good day, he up and moving as if he were battling a bad cold; slightly weak and not as hungry as he could have been, but acting nearly normal. He had come up with the decision about a week-and-a-half ago to finally come out public as to his mysterious disappearance. While he was being supportive in every possible way, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of backlash, what kind of talk would accumulate once his story was out in the open?
His concerns had been vocalized to JC, just as JC had vocalized his own – but with everything that seemed to be going down (there were more stories written than before, people were starting to slowly figure out Justin was in town), it seemed like it was now or never.
JC chose now.
Justin sighed as JC dialed the number given to him, placing his phone on speakerphone and settling himself against the pillow, weakly holding the phone up as he cleared his throat, greeted by Ryan Seacrest. “Hey, Ryan, how’s it going man?”
“It’s been going pretty well over here, man; how’s it been going for you? It’s been months since anyone has seen or heard from you and suddenly, wham! Wham, you’re back on the air!”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing over at Justin who was shifting in his seat nervously, he clearing his throat, “it’s been a rollercoaster five months and I figure it’s time to clear the air and finally state my reasoning for going MIA.”
“That reason we’ll get to in a sec. Now, for anyone who is just tuning in, I’m talking to JC Chasez, former judge of MTV’s America’s Best Dance Crew, a show that JC actually left without a word about five months ago. Now, after five months, JC is back, on the air, finally speaking about his leaving. Again, with the clearing the air, there has been a lot of talk about drug-use and sickness, also a lot of hearsay about a feud that you had with the other two judges that forced you to make a quick decision to leave. How true are those?”
“Uh, well,” he said, rubbing his forehead as he looked at his phone, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say right, “I’ve rehearsed this so many times and it’s always harder when the time comes to explain yourself. Two of those rumors are complete bull, I can tell you that. I’ve never in my life touched any drug harder than mushrooms – and that was back in the day; I was probably about 23, 24 and I had even spoke about that in an interview when my solo record came out. As for the feud, nah, no feud; I love the judges and I respect their opinions but what I left for, had nothing to do with them, nothing to do with drugs.”
“So you’re saying that you do not do drugs and you are not feuding with anyone?”
“…Correct.”
Ryan paused. “So, you’re sick?”
“I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia in September,” JC said softly, voice breaking a bit as he attempted to clear his throat, “I’ve been undergoing treatments since and as we speak, I’m lying in a hospital room waiting for results to see just how the disease has progressed or if it has alleviated a bit on me.” “So this, this Leukemia, what is your success rate?”
“The doctor feels I am going to beat it, that I have no reason not to since I was pretty healthy and active beforehand. But, you know, sometimes being healthy isn’t good enough and I’ve been lucky to have a homecare nurse and a friend who have been taking pretty damn good care of me when I’m not at my best.”
“Would this friend happen to be Justin Timberlake?”
JC chucked a bit, glancing over at Justin who was now suddenly more intrigued than ever. “Well, it’s been Justin since the beginning; he was actually the first person I told … mind you, it was days after I found out and disappeared but shortly after my parents knew and came in, so did the rest of the guys. They’ve all been a pretty big support system; Justin, especially.”
“I’m sure you’re grateful …”
“More than you’d ever know, Ryan,” JC said, glancing over as Lauren stepped into the room, placing a coffee in front of Justin and a small cup of water in front of JC. “He’s always been like my little brother. Of course, you’d think it’d be the other way around, but I’ll take whatever I can get.”
“Even after the falling out the two of you had?”
JC chuckled. “It’s really crazy what people find out, you know that, right? And yes, even after that. Even if we were on the “I hate you” terms, which we never were, I’d still be there for him and I’d like to think he would be there for me.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“So-so,” he frowned. “I had a bad couple of weeks but I’m now just starting to feel like I have a bad cold – and I’ll welcome that with open arms over how horrible I was feeling before. I’m still going to have to have a bone marrow transplant so I can’t press how important it is to donate blood – if people find matches, lives can be saved. Possibly mine.”
Possibly mine.
Justin heard nothing else after that sentence, watching his friend speak with what strength he had, eyes every so often glancing to Lauren who was now tending to something with her own phone or to him – he attempted to look busy, but he always just ended up watching him.
He leaned back into the ever-so comfortable (sarcasm, much?) chair, eyes wandering to the television that was bolted into the wall, angled from the bed and just enough for him to feel like he was breaking his neck watching it, eyes bugging out of his head as he took in the photo of a blond-haired man with dates underneath his name.
Rich Cronin
8.30.1974 – 1.15.10
He looked over at Lauren, wide-eyed as he lifted his foot, kicking her shin gently as he gestured with his head towards the television. She set her phone down on the end of the bed, eyes scanning over Justin and towards the television. As she turned to read, the closed caption followed with the changed picture, it now footage of he and his group performing years ago.
"Cronin battled the disease Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, also known as AML – a cancer that affects the myeloid line of blood cells for nearly five years before losing his battle in a treatment center in Boston after suffering a stroke resulting from the illness. Cronin’s group toured years ago with *NSYNC, whose 1/5 of the group revealed on-air only moments ago to our own Ryan Seacrest that he, too, is battling AML …"
“Whoa, what –“
Justin startled, fumbling for the remote and shutting the television off, looking at JC as his eyes stayed glued to the blank screen, hand still gripping the phone as Ryan continued to speak on-air, JC oblivious to it all. “What, Jace?”
“Ryan, I-I’ve gotta call you back,” he said nearly robotically, hanging up his phone and letting it limply drop into his lap, eyes slowly welling up with tears. “Cronin had AML?”
Justin looked helplessly at Lauren, who had immediately gotten up, grabbing his arm at the wrist and shoulder with her hands, using the hand that gripped his shoulder to gently knead into his skin. “He got sick almost five years ago, Jace,” Justin said softly. “He never took care of himself, you know that.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “No, I don’t!” He slammed his body backward so that the bed frame slammed against the wall, startling Lauren who stepped away only momentarily. “Did you know?!”
He looked at his friend, wild-eyed and hysterical, gripping the thin bed sheets as Lauren tried to calm him, her face at his ear and speaking softly. “Jace, I –“
“For fuck’s sake, Justin, did you know?!”
He cringed, licking his lips and swallowing slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
“Jace, he’s not you, all right? He’s not you!” Justin got up, gripping his friend’s shoulder and staring him square in the eye, willing him to believe what he said. “You’re not gonna lose your battle, all right? I’m not gonna let you be like him –“
“I might as well be! Damnit, look at me! I’m a walking corpse!” He pressed his hands into his eyes, dry sobs escaping his mouth as Lauren wrapped her arms around his shoulders, squared his body so that he faced her, pulling him against her. He reached between them, his phone gripped in his hand for only a few moments before he threw it away from him and against the wall, it shattering.
Justin met her eyes, helpless as she nodded towards the door. “Go get a nurse,” she mouthed, “he needs to talk to someone.”
He pointed at her, she shaking her head.
“Just go.”
He pushed himself away from the chair, walking quickly out of the room and heading towards the nurse’s station, his sobs heard all the way down the hall. “I need a doctor for Josh Chasez’s room –“
The nurse jumped to alert, seeing the frustrated tears in Justin’s eyes. “Is he all right? Do I need to page Dr. Kleinfield?”
He swallowed again, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, I – I don’t know what to do; one minute he’s talking on the phone and the next we’re seeing on tv that a guy we used to tour with died of the same disease and he’s freaking out … he’s hysterical.”
“He’s gonna need sedated,” she said softly, quickly moving from behind the station and picking up the phone that rested on the counter between she and Justin. “This is Nurse Halloway in the Oncology Unit – I need Dr. Kleinfield to JC Chasez’s room, room 518 as soon as possible.” She reached forward, pushing Justin towards JC’s room, they both entering as JC’s sobs echoed throughout the room. Within moments of walking through the door, Nurse Halloway turned in a quick pivot, running down the hallway and leaving Justin and Lauren there.
“Jace, sweetheart, can you breathe for me, huh?” Lauren pulled herself away enough to look at his face, he attempting to catch his breath but hyperventilating instead. “C’mon, honey, inhale, exhale. Just breathe.” She cupped his face in her hands, urging him to follow her breathing methods. “C’mon, Jace …” Justin was pushed aside as Nurse Halloway and Dr. Kleinfield came in, watching as she helped Lauren guide him into a lying position, one hand still pressing roughly into his eye as the other was gripped by Lauren, Nurse Halloway prepping his skin, stepping away as Dr. Kleinfield held tightly to JC’s arm as he tried to rip it away. Justin cringed as he watched him literally stab it into his flesh, feeling slightly light-headed.
“It’s gonna be okay, Joshua,” he said softly, patting his arm as he quickly faded into a twilight-like state, eyes heavy and body nearly limp. Turning to Justin, he nodded his head towards the hall, asking the man to follow him. Once they reached the hall, Justin leaned up against the wall near JC’s room, crossing his arms and studying the doctor. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“He’ll be sedated for a few hours,” Dr. Kleinfield said, nodding as he reached for the clipboard on JC’s wall. “You are his acting Patient’s Advocate, am I correct?”
Justin nodded. “Yeah, he made me aware of that about a month ago.”
Dr. Kleinfield flipped open the chart, sighing as he made some notes on the paper before speaking again. “His condition isn’t getting any better, but it’s not getting that much worse, either. I’m concerned he’s getting an infection and his immune system is not strong enough to fight it without our proper care. I want to admit him. Today.”
Justin nodded. “Okay. You gotta do what is best for him –“
“And I want to start a different approach with his chemotherapy. It’s going to be rough on him and he may end up having not strength at all. This approach is called a 7+3; we’re going to have the cytarabine given as the continuous IV infusion for seven days and the anthracycline for three as the push for the cytarabine. I would like to keep him in the hospital when these are being done due to his low tolerance with the environment and his weakened state but I need you to sign forms so that we can place him in immediate care.”
Justin sighed deeply, running a hand over his closely-shaved head. “This is going to work, right? I mean, the last chemo treatments weren’t; this will, right?”
Dr. Kleinfield placed the chart back in the holder after he finished making notes, placing a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “There is a 70% going rate of remission with patients that take this approach, Justin. While I am optimistic that this will work for him once we strengthen his body, I cannot promise you that he’d be in the 70%.”
“Do you think he will be?”
He stopped from taking a step into the room, taking a look at the now sleeping JC and the concerned Advocate that stood in the hall. “Do I think he will be?” When Justin nodded, he pursed his lips, weighing his options and the pros and cons of the battle the younger man had already gone through. “If this infection doesn’t beat him to hell and back, yes.”
Justin nodded. That’s all he needed to hear. “I’m removing myself as his personal homecare nurse.”
He looked up over JC’s bed at Lauren who sat vigil on his other side, JC asleep for the last hour and a half. “What? Why?!”
Lauren bowed her head as she held JC’s hand in her hands, studying the creases in both of their skins. “Because I’ve gotten too close to him for me to view him as a patient,” she said softly, “I care about him, Justin; I care about him more than I did with any other patient I’ve had.”
He couldn’t help but smile a little, ducking his head before she’d notice the “I knew it” look on his face. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll call and have them send someone else in.”
“It better be a woman.”
Justin let out a breathy laugh, looking up at JC’s coming-to face. “Hey, Chasez. Welcome back to the land of the calm.”
“Why do I feel like I got hit by a garbage truck?”
Justin watched him rub his eyes, bothered by the bright fluorescents. “Well, it’s cause you did. You saw a little boy playing in the highway and a truck was coming and then – boom! Garbage truck.”
“Timberlake, don’t quit your day job, all right?”
He grinned. “Seriously though; you went a little crazy with the news of Rich’s passing.”
“I think you would, too … given the circumstances of your own prognosis.”
“Jace, you and Rich are two completely different people with two completely different prognosis’s,” Lauren said softly, gripping his hand, “while he may not have been able to beat it the second go-round, you can beat it the first time.”
“God, I hope so. I’m not ready for my media-related obituary.”
“Like I said before,” Justin noted, “94, not 34.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said softly, looking upward as he sighed deeply. “So when do I get out of this shithole?”
“Yeah, here’s the thing,” Justin said, JC’s face snapping to his, “you’re gonna be in here for like, eleven days.”
He attempted to sit up quickly, freezing as he let his body drop back down in exhaustion. “Whyyyyy …”
“They’re changing the chemo,” Justin said, nodding at the cart that would soon be holding the IV drip that would be connected to his port, “seven full days of chemo, three days of a pusher. One day to settle back into routine and then you’ll have a week of being a hermit, a week of “okay” time and then back here to repeat the process.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Justin chuckled, seeing the look of disbelief on his face. “I’m not. Jace, this chemo has a great remission-rate; we need to at least try it and see what happens. Besides, Dr. Kleinfield feels you’re getting an infection – the longer you stay here, the better. It’s safer here than it is in that apartment where God-knows-what is flying around in the air.”
“Great rate, huh?”
He nodded. “70%.”
“That’s better than nothing.”
“Better than what you were at with the other chemo.”
“Right. Then why not use that one, first?”
“Because it’s successful, just in certain people, I guess. It’s rate is pretty high, too; you’re just not responding quick enough to it.”
“I’d say five months isn’t quick enough.”
Justin smiled, patting his foot as he leaned back. “Now get some rest. I’ve gotta go back to the apartment and make a few calls while putting your shit together. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Justin, you can just stay there –“
He shook his head, holding a hand up to silence him. “I’ll have you know, I ordered a very comfortable cot to sleep in for those eleven days. Just as Lauren has. We’re here with you all week, bucco!”
JC groaned, Lauren shooting him a look. “Hey, your company is always welcomed; eleven days with him in the same small room is asking for somethin’ …”
“Somethin’ amazing!”
“Oh, go away, Timberlake …” Justin grinned, knocking on the wooden threshold and saying goodbye before leaving. He began to feel optimistic. “This is gonna work,” he said as he walked down the hall, getting a small smile from Nurse Halloway as he waved, “this is gonna work.”
