-05-

Clinton, Mississippi

Lance’s knee bounced up in down in quick precession. He slid his hand down his jeans and tightly gripped his knee cap, pushing down with the palm of his hand, trying to stop his leg from moving. He gnawed on his thumbnail, spitting out little bits of nail into his lap. With one lat bite, he removed his hand from his mouth and reached over to push up the shade covering the airplane.

The shadow of the plane slinked its way across the puffy white clouds before disappearing from view as they slowly started their descent into Mississippi. It didn’t look like it had changed from above; he sure as hell could bet the city itself hadn’t changed, either. It was why he tried to avoid it as much as possible.

But, at times like this, home is the only place he wanted to be. Despite knowing how religious the city was, it was still his home. He still felt somewhat of a sense of security whenever he was there. Then again, that was all before he came out. He knew what people of Clinton felt about homosexuals, he knew how much change, and anything that wasn’t “normal” worried them.

He could chalk it up to their beliefs and how they were raised, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. He didn’t think he would stop hurting; if it wasn’t one thing it was another. He was heartbroken, he was scared,  and despite everyone being around him, he felt like he was alone.

“Nervous?” Darren asked.

Lance turned away from the window and made a grunting sound in the back of his throat. “What if they  don’t even want to see me?” he asked.

“Your parents are always happy ta have ya and Stacey home, ya know that,” Darren replied. “And I’ve never seen ya so…tweaked about goin’ home.” Lance’s lips twitched. “I get why, but…maybe in the time you’ve been away they’ve grown to accept it? And accept you? They haven’t seen ya for months.”

“And they barely pick up the phone whenever I call,” Lance replied. He practically punched his thigh to get his knee to stop bouncing.

“That goes both ways,” Darren pointed out.

Only because they don’t want to acknowledge my other life, Lance thought to himself. He crossed his arms over his chest. Face it, Lance, it’s not like you really open up to them about it. It’s not like they want to listen to you about it, either.

“Ok, look,” Darren said, elbowing Lance in the side. Lance turned to look at his friend. “As God as my witness—and I’ll make sure he pays attention—I’m goin’ ta  get you back ta your old self.” Lance opened his mouth to protest, but Darren pointed a warning finger in his face. “And you know Ace will help me with that, too.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” Lance said with a small laugh.

“Definitely a bad thing,” Darren agreed, laughing as well. He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “She’ll be flyin’ home in a couple of days. She told JC she’d go into tha studio for a little bit while she was out there; see if there was anythin’ she could work on while at home. Plus, she needed to return the rental car, anyway.”

“Yeah, she told me,” Lance replied.

“Of course she did,” Darren said with a half smile. Lance smiled as well.

Silence fell over the two of them as the plane bumped onto the runway, shaking and rocking slightly. Applause travelled up the cabin and Lance clapped halfheartedly long with the rest of the passengers on the flight.

“Your parents aren’ too happy with her, either, you know,” Darren said as he reached for his seat belt. He curled his fingers underneath the flattened part of the seat belt and pulled it, releasing it from around his waist as Lance gave him a look of confusion and alarm. “She’s known for longer than practically anybody and never told ‘em. Plus, let’s not forget the time you two ‘dated’ just so no one else would figure it out. Wouldn’ surprise me if Miss Diane had been planning your weddin’ or somethin’.”

Lance gave a sheepish grin before running a hand over his face. “So that wasn’t one of my best ideas,” he admitted  with a shrug. “It’s not like I was really lying. I mean…people already thought we were dating anyway.”

He could easily think back to all of the headlines, tabloids, and online gossip columns that came around the second people had gotten wind that Annaleigh was hanging around with the band. One trip to Disney World, and many fans instantly jumped on the bandwagon trying to find out as much about her as possible.

One minute he was hanging out with his best-friends, and the next, they were surrounded by screaming and giggling girls. Cameras flashed in his face, pads of paper and pens were shoved into his hands, and he was pulled and pushed in many different directions. Despite all of that, he kept the smile on his face and joke around, just like the other boys, but it quickly became overwhelming. All the screams made his ears ring, and it seemed like the crowd would never disappear.

And all the while, Annaleigh stood off to the side, looking amused, startled, and curious about what was going on around her. That was when someone had come up to her asking who she was, to which she promptly replied that she was, “No one” to which he instantly replied that she was his best friend from home and that she was part of the *NSYNC band.

And everything blew up from there.

Dating rumors (Justin and Lance), mean comments, speculation about anything and everything under the sun, and people prying into not only her life, but their lives more than he had ever noticed before. Only because it wasn’t about him and his friends, who already had years of experience with their fans, someone he cared about was suddenly thrust into their world and barely even had a week to prepare for it.

 “Y’all were pretty convincin’ I’ll give ya that,” Darren commented, an amused smile coming to his lips. “Sure had everyone at home talkin’ ‘bout y’all for a while.”

“It was weird, D,” Lance said with a sigh. He watched as others sitting in coach with them got their feet, opening the overhead compartment to retrieve their carryon bags. They started to form a line, impatient to get off the plane. “Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, too; this is Ace we’re talking about. It’s not that I wasn’t attracted to her—not physically anyway. I mean, you and I both know that Annaleigh is really beautiful, but it was weird.”

“Weird because you’ve known her for so long?” Darren asked, a curious look crossing his face. “I mean, apart from the fact that you’re…” He trailed off, looking at everyone around them before lowering his voice. “You know.”

“Weird because…I don’t really know?” he said as more of a question. He was silent for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “It didn’t feel right. I knew I was using her, and at the time, she was looking for anyone to give her the attention she wanted and tell her what she wanted to hear,” Lance replied. “Of course, that was because you weren’t there.” He gave Darren a half, teasing, smile.

“Don’ even,” Darren said, putting a hand into the air.

“I just don’t get why you two have known each other for, oh…an eternity, and during all that time, you two haven’t done anything about it,” Lance replied, resting his elbow on the armrest to his seat, angling his head in his friend’s direction.

“Its jus’ been bad timing,” Darren replied with a roll of his eyes. Lance nodded his head, giving Darren a pointed look. “There’s no mystery to it.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Although, I am curious about one thing.”

“Ask away,” Lance replied, waving his hand in the air. “All those years listening to y’all talk about each other…” He trailed off, waiting for Darren to ask his question.

“It’s not about Ace.” Lance blinked, but nodded his head. “So…all those years we’ve been friends…you’ve known the whole time? Since you were five, you said?” Lance nodded his head. “And you haven’…well…”

Lance watched as Darren cleared his throat, his face turning a bright red. “Did I ever like you?” he asked quietly. Darren briefly made a face, but nodded his head. Lance laughed. “God, no.” He laughed harder when an offended look crossed Darren’s face. “It’s nothing personal, you’re just not my type. Like I’d ever stand a chance against Ace, anyway.” His smile widened.  “You’re not actually mad about that!”

“I’m just…curious,” Darren replied, moving to get out of his seat, reaching up for his bag. “That’s all.”

“Uh huh,” Lance replied, rolling his eyes, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Sure.” Darren lowered a hand, giving Lance the finger and he let out a loud laugh.

He stretched his arms over his head before sliding out of the small space between his seat and the row in front of his. He  reached up for his backpack and grabbed the strap, pulling it out of the overhead compartment before sliding his arm through the strap.

“Let’s go,” Lance said, gently shoving Darren’s shoulder. “I can smell mom’s cornbread from here.”

“Are they goin’ to be home when you get there?” Darren asked.

“Not for a couple of hours,” Lance replied, glancing at his watch. “They have to work late today.” A stab of guilt pierced through him just like it did when he read his dad’s response to his e-mail. He couldn’t help wondering, do they really have to work late or are they trying to prolong the inevitable? And just like when he read that e-mail, his stomach twisted into a knot of worry and guilt, making him feel sick. “And I need to get something in my stomach.”

“Don’ rush me; I’m movin’ as fast as this line will allow me to,” Darren replied, adjusting the strap to his bag on his shoulder. “Besides, it might be better ta have everybody rushin’ ta baggage claim, get their stuff, and leave before we get there.”

It’s not like you’re really in a rush to get back into town, Lance thought to himself, crossing his arms over his chest. He let out a sigh through his nose, tapping his foot on the floor of the plane as he waited. As he slowly shuffled behind Darren, slowly making their way off the plane, the knot in his stomach grew.

He took in slow, deep breaths through his nose, and out through his mouth, trying to squash the feeling in his stomach. He rubbed at his stomach through his shirt, trying to massage away the bubbles building and popping. He swallowed repeatedly as they made their way off the plane, joining the large crowd of flyers.

He suddenly felt warm all over, and folded in on himself, adjusting his grip on his backpack strap. He felt like everybody was looking at him, scrutinizing him, doing double takes. He mumbled apologies as he slipped past people rushing in the opposite direction, keeping his head angled down towards the floor.

How many people could recognize him after a quick glance? Were they talking about him? Whispering? Pointing? Did they all know he was going to be flying in? Paparazzi and news outlets online were pretty (scarily) good at finding out details of where he’s going and what he’s doing before he even knew it himself.

“This isn’ like you,” Darren suddenly said, stepping onto the moving step of the escalator, turning his head to look back at Lance. Lance reached out his hands, placing them on the moving black strips, allowing them to carry him forward before swinging his feet onto the moving step. A smile came to his face.

“Go video tape the escalators, its cool.”

Justin let out a loud, sugar induce, laugh as he pointed a finger in Lance’s direction.”Yo, we just got you saying that on camera,” he said, doubling over to slap his knee. “Everybody’s going to know how big of a dork you are.”

Lance just smiled, shrugging his shoulders as Joey turned his video camera onto him. “The escalator’s cool, ya gotta come see it,” he said to his friend. He turned on his heels, leading the way up to the small set of stairs to take him towards the escalator.

“Show us this awesome escalator, Lance,” Joey prompted.

“Check it out, look it,” Lance said, pointing towards the escalator with the empty pixy stix wrapper in his hand. “It’s a new one, too.”

“Oooooh,” Joey said, wiggling the video camera in his hand towards the moving stairs.

“That seems like a lifetime ago,” Lance said to himself. He blinked when Darren waved a hand in his face. Lance lifted his head, letting out a sigh. “I’ve always cared about what people thought about me, you know that.”

“I think the problem here is what you think ‘bout yourself, and you don’ really think highly of yourself right now,” Darren replied as they slowly made their way down to the main floor. “You didn’ think highly of yourself with your dancing in *NSYNC either, but you’re way better than when you firs’ started.” He twisted his mouth to the side in a small smile. “And everyone loves you for puttin’ yourself out there to be in the band.”

“Not everybody,” Lance pointed out.

“Lance,” Darren said, tilting his head back in a groan.

“I can’t feel good about being with someone if I can’t feel good about myself,” Lance protested, his eyebrows shooting up.

“That’s understandable,” Darren replied with a slow nod of his head. “But, relationships take time, patience and communication. That was your problem.”

“I’m sorry, who’s tellin’ who about communication and relationships?” Lance asked, hiking an eyebrow in his best friend’s direction.

“Ha, freakin’, ha,” Darren said in a low drawl, hiking his eyebrows as well. He stepped off the escalator and made his way over to rotating track, looking for his bag.

“I’ve been waiting, what...like…ten years now for somethin’ to happen between you two?” Lance said, reaching for the handle of his bag as it slid past. He quickly looped it on his wrist and started walking backwards, pulling his heavy bag off of the track. “And I get the whole bad timing thing, but that’s a long time to blatantly ignore your feelings for someone. You know you have my blessing. I just want to be your best man at the wedding.”

“So if you weren’…you know, would you ever consider dating Ace?” Darren changed the subject with a grunt as he pulled his bag off the belt. Lance wrinkled his nose as he slid the strap to his own bag over his shoulder. “I take it that’s a ‘no’.”

“She’s like my little sister,” Lance replied with a shake of his head. The two of them made their way to the exit of the airport. “No way.”

Darren clicked his tongue. “Used ta say the same thing,” he pointed out, his eyebrows twitching upwards. “You see how that worked out.”

“The both of you were just in denial,” Lance replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Darren chuckled. “So, how’s work going? I know I haven’t checked in a while. But, are you still looking into that job in Hattiesburg?”

“Still haven’ heard back from them yet, but I’m holdin’ out hope,” Darren replied with a nod of his head, a smile of excitement coming to his face. “I’d be the choir director there. But, I love the youth group kids here, too. We’ve got a really talented bunch this year.” He elbowed Lance in the side. “Mind comin’ in for a few classes? Answer some questions, help me out?”

“Don’t know how much help I’ll be considering I haven’t done anything like that in a few years,” Lance reminded him. He let out a short laugh as they stepped through the doors of the airport, crossing the parking lot to reach a shuttle to take them to Darren’s car. “Even then, I could barely remember dance steps two minutes after I learned them.”

“You can still sing,” Darren pointed out to him.

“True,” Lance replied with a sigh. He lifted his fist and punched Darren’s shoulder. “Sure, I’d be happy to help out. God knows you need it.”

“Ouch,” Darren said, shoving him back. Lance stumbled slightly, tripping over his own feet. He grabbed onto the pole beside him to stop himself from falling, bumping into the person behind him.

“Sorry,” Lance said, turning to give the man an apologetic smile.

“It’s ok,” the man replied, tugging at his shirt collar. He cleared his throat, turning to look out the window.

“Sorry,” Darren said with a half smile. His eyes shifted to the man over Lance’s shoulder, before fixating back on him. “You ok?” His smile faded as his eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re lookin’ a little pale.”

“Just hungry, and tired,” Lance replied, giving Darren a reassuring smile. “And nervous.” Not that that’s too surprising. He sucked in a deep breath of air, letting it out, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, that’s all.”

Darren made a humming noise in the back of his throat, slowly nodding his head. “Well, let’s get ya home before ya pass out or somethin’,” Darren said, the look of worry staying on his face for a moment before clearing. The shuttle came to a stop and the doors hissed as they swung open.

The two friends grabbed their bags and made their way off the shuttle, making their way across the gravelly asphalt. Lance let out a sigh, suddenly feeling even more exhausted then he ever felt after a tour.  Must be jet lag, he thought to himself, holding back a sigh.

A series of beeps hit the air as Darren pointed the remote to his car keys ahead of him. Lance watched as tail lights to his gray Kia Sorrento, blinked before Darren unlocked the trunk of the car, lifting the rear door.

“I’ll get the bags,” Lance said to his friend.

“You sure?” Darren asked, moving to get into the driver’s seat.

“Dude, I just want to get out of here as fast as possible,” Lance replied with a tired smile. Darren shrugged before unlocking and popping open the driver’s seat door. Lance lifted their combined four bags into the back of the car before reaching up to grasp the handle on the inside of the door to slam it shut.

As he turned, he heard a voice shout, “Hey, faggot” seconds before a fist collided with his face. Stars burst in front of his eyes as he stumbled on the rocky ground. A low groan slid past his lips before he was shoved to the ground. Lance blinked open his eyes to see the man who was on the shuttle, hovering over him, pulling his fist back into a punch. Lance threw up his arms to shield himself.

“Get off!” he shouted.

“You’re sick!” the man snapped, spittle hitting Lance’s arms. “What you’re doing is against God’s will.” Lance kicked his legs, catching the man in the side. “It’s wrong. It’s a sin.”

“Get off me!” Lance cried. He could feel skin beneath his fingers, beneath his finger nails. He could feel something warm and wet slide down his face seconds after receiving an elbow to his face.

“You’ll burn in hell for what you’re doing.”

“Hey! Get off him. Get out of here.”

Lance felt something heavy collide into his side before the weight on top of him lifted. Lance wrapped one arm around his stomach, his free hand going to his face as he let out a loud groan of pain. Removing his hand, he squinted through his swelling eye and saw his fingers coated a bright red. His head throbbed with pain, his nose ached, his chest burned.

“Lance, you ok?” Lance felt Darren grab his arm, hauling him to his feet.

“I think so,” Lance replied, his moth filling with spit. It felt like he was talking around rocks. He felt his lip split, he tasted the metallic blood. He used his arm to wipe at his mouth, a streak of red appearing on his forearm. “I didn’t even hear him coming.”

“I know who you are!” the man shouted, walking away. “You’re sick, Lance Bass. Sick!”

Lance felt his heart skip a beat, suddenly feeling cold all over. His lips parted as he looked over at Darren. “Wha—“

“I think he’s been followin’ us since we got off tha plane,” Darren muttered, wiping his hands on his shirt. “He was talkin’ ‘bout Ace. I think he thought she is a guy.” He put his hands on his hips. “Given the nickname…” He trailed off, shooting Lance an uncomfortable look. Lance turned his head away.

“How’d you…?” Lance waved a hand in the air, breathing heavily before moving to scratch the back of his head.

“I threw his weight around,” Darren replied in a monotone. “And mine.” He gave a fleeting smile, indicating his husky frame. Lance let out a short chuckle. “We should report this.”

“No,” Lance replied, shaking his head. Darren looked at him as if he was crazy. Lance quickly figured he must be. “You know how people are here. What makes you think the police would want to help someone like me?”

“Because you’re a person who has rights and you got jumped,” Darren replied before putting his hands up defensively. “Its fine; if you don’ want to go, I won’ push it. Let’s just get you cleaned up before you bleed everywhere.” Darren popped open the trunk of the car and unzipped his bag, rooting around until he pulled out a t-shirt, tossing it to his friend. “Here, put this on your face.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, pressing the cloth to his face, wincing as he did so. He carefully shuffled around the car to the passenger seat and climbed in, his face contorting with pain as he did so.

The drive to the Bass home was filled with silence. Lance kept his mouth tightly shut, swallowing the blood and spit that collected in his mouth. The t-shirt in his hand had blood splotches all over it. His heart pounded in his chest and he clenched and unclenched his free hand into a fist.

“Thanks for the ride,” Lance barely managed to get out, trying hard not to move his lips too many times. He pushed the door open, being careful to not hit his red ford f150, slowly climbing down to the driveway before running his hand over the side of his truck. “Hey, Harry.”

“You named your truck Harry?” Darren asked over the loud slam of the driver’s side door.

“Short for Harrison,” Lance replied.

“Harrison?” Darren said, rounding the front of the car, his eyes shooting up. “Oh, I get it, Harrison the Ford. Harrison Ford. Clever.” Lance gave a half smile. “So, when are we going to take it out on that road trip? We’ve been meaning to do it for years.”

He had bought the truck one of the last times he was in Clinton, wanting to drive it out to California. He didn’t want to have to rely on Jake to drive him around anywhere, nor did he want to pay for a new car or use a rental for months on end. But, the truck had never left his driveway when he moved.

Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn’t had the opportunity to take it. And while his, and Darren’s, and Annaleigh’s lives grew more and more packed with responsibility and work, they all agreed they’d drive it out to California together as a chance to bond and spend time together like they used to.

“We will,” Darren reassured him. “Come on, Lance, let’s get you cleaned up before your parents get home.”

Lance reached into his jeans pocket for his keys, stepping past Darren, up to the porch of his childhood home, and unlocked the door, stepping inside. He immediately made his way into the kitchen, tossing his t-shirt onto the counter, making his way over to the sink. He turned on the faucet, leaving a spot of blood on the handle and started washing his hands.

The water was tinged a light reddish-brown as the blood slid off his hands. Lance cupped the water in his hands, peering down at his shimmering reflection before sliding the water over his face. The cold water robbed him of his breath as it dripped down his chin, soaking the collar of his shirt. He could hear Darren shifting through the ice in the freezer.

“You were caught with your pants down, Lance,” he said after a long moment of silence. “It’s not like you asked for this to happen.”

“Didn’t I?” Lance asked with an odd laugh, dropping the water that was in his hands with a loud splash. He reached for the roll of paper towel and ripped two sheets off. He wiped the blood from the faucet and turned off the water before dabbing at his face. “He’s just one person who’s not hiding behind a computer screen.” Darren held the ice pack out to him and Lance gave him a nod of thanks, putting it to his face. “Why can’t people just forget about this? I mean, these people don’t even know me; how could they judge me?”

“Because they don’t understand! It’s easy to say whatever you want sitting behind a computer, but I doubt they’d say it to your face.” Lance removed the ice pack from his eye and gave Darren a pointed look before indicated his bruised and bloody face. “At least until today.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Lance asked quietly.

Darren gave a half smile. “Fight back,” he replied quietly. “Teach them how it’s ok to be ok, how you’re ok. How you’re happy, and how you didn’t choose this, that it’s who you are and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You need to fight back.”

Lance pressed the bag of ice back to his eye, a thoughtful look crossing his face. A moment later, his lips slowly curled upwards into a smile before it disappeared in a wince, blood slowly pooling in the split in his lip. “Ow.”

“What’s the smile for?” Darren asked.

“You’re right,” Lance replied. “I can’t just sit around being grumpy and depressed all the time. I’m not going to give a second thought about what people have to say about me.” Darren gave him a curious look. “Because, I’m not going to be gay anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Darren asked, giving a startled blink.

“You heard me,” Lance replied. “I’m not going to be gay anymore. God hasn’t helped me with this, despite my constant asking, so I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”

“But—“

“It’ll make everything easier,” Lance said, interrupting his friend. “Everyone will be happy; things will go back to normal.”

“And this is really what you want?” Darren asked after a moment of silence.

“…Yes.”

Darren let out a heavy sigh, running his hands over his face. “Then who am I to stop you?” he asked. “I just want you to be happy. If that means doing this…then so be it.”

“Thanks, D,” Lance replied.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Los Angeles, California

But if you play with fire then you’ll get burned
When will you learn?
Now it’s your turn
Remember all the lies you sold me
Made me feel so sad and lonely
Now your fairytale’s unfolding
Nothing left to say
Cause I loved you all the way
Until Yesterday
Ohhhhh until yesterday

Annaleigh finger plucked each string of the bass guitar in her hands, bobbing her head to the beat of the song to keep herself in time. JC’s voice crooned the words to the song into her ears through the large headphones that covered her ears.

The guitar came in with a solo, and Annaleigh’s eyes shifted through the sheet music in front of her, playing a little bit of a solo beneath the guitar. She moved through the chorus two more times, singing soft notes in the background when it called for her higher tone to fill the chords JC had previously recorded until the end of the song where she played the last chord, allowing it to ring until she silenced it with her hand.

“So what do ya think?” she asked into the microphone, turning her eyes towards the large glass wall. JC was sitting at the sound board, arms sliding back and forth as he pressed a few buttons, and twisted knobs.

“The solo was a bit off,” JC replied, putting his hand flat into the air, tilting it back and forth. “But, you were just sight reading it, so…” He gave her a bright smile. “It was good, but what did you think?”

“Uhhhh,” Annaleigh stalled, removing the headphones from around her ears, allowing them to hang from her neck.

“That bad, huh?” JC asked, his smile fading slightly.

“Not bad,” Annaleigh replied, pointing a green finger nail covered finger in his direction. “Jus’…different. More different than Schizophrenic, but that was different too. In a good way.”

“Mmhmmm,” JC replied, hiking an eyebrow.

Annaleigh clicked her tongue. “Shoot, that’s my move,” she commented. “Jus’ two questions.” JC waved his hand in the air. “Do you really want that ‘daddy’ line in there?”

“Yes,” JC replied simply, nodding his head. “Yes, I do. Second question?”

“Well, now I already know your answer, but, do ya really want this ta be staccato in the chorus?” Annaleigh asked. “It’s easy ta play an’ everythin’, but playin’ it live might be a little…boring.” JC’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything. She shrugged her shoulders. “You asked.”

“Actually you did,” JC replied with a half smile. “But, thanks for your honesty. No one else would be as blunt as you…even if I didn’t ask for it.”

Annaleigh chuckled. “Ya seem ta really be pushin’ the envelope with this album,” she commented, putting the headphones back up over her ears. “Way more than Schizo.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Sorry it didn’ do as well as you hoped.”

“Yeah, well, no one can predict these kinds of things,” JC replied. He was quiet for a moment before adding. “Or Super Bowl half-time shows.” Annaleigh made a noise in the back of her throat.

The whole scandal with Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson had the whole world talking. The action made JC lose his spot as a performer at the Pro Bowl two years prior. Justin had apologized to him, and the world, for it, but the damage was done. The wardrobe malfunction was too risqué, and JC’s single Some Girls (Dance With Women) was considered to be too sexy at the time to be performed.

“I’m sorry, too,” JC replied with a sigh. “I don’t hold a grudge against him. It was an accident, and our friendship…our brotherhood goes way too back and is too important to me to fall apart over one mistake.”

“You know what they say, even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then,” Annaleigh replied with a shrug of her shoulders. JC gave her a confused look and she rolled her eyes. “I’ve been friends with ya for a while now, and ya still haven’t picked up on my sayings? Context clues, C, context clues.”

“Are you going to tell me or not?” JC asked, putting his chin in his palm.

“You’ll get lucky,” Annaleigh explained. “You were born to make music or jus’ be a part of it in some way, shape, or form. Your talent shows and everyone will see it with this album.” She tilted her head to the side, using her thumb to lift the strap of the bass guitar off her shoulder, readjusting its position. “You have all the *NSYNC fans out there who’ll continue to support you, and you’ll make new fans along the way. Jus’ remember, Schizo made it up to 17 on the US Billboard 200 and this’ll do better.”

JC gave her a wide smile. “Alright, let’s go through it again,” he said, pressing a few more buttons. The music started playing again.

“I’ll fix the solo this time,” Annaleigh said, gripping the neck of her guitar. She tapped her foot on the floor as the music started, only to blink in surprise when the music suddenly stopped. “Uh—“  

“You can’t fix him, Ace,” JC suddenly said. He lifted his hand, waving her out of the booth. Annaleigh gave him a confused look, setting down her bass, removing the headphones from around her ears. She stepped over to the door, pulling it open.

“What?” she asked.

“You can’t fix Lance,” JC repeated. “Because there’s nothing about him to fix.”

“I’m…I’m not trying to fix him,” Annaleigh said with an odd laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. She jutted out her hip, tilting her head to the side.

“No, you’re just trying to fix his problem for him,” JC replied. “Not that being gay is a problem.” He then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why can’t you let him figure this out for himself?”

“You haven’t seen him lately, Josh,” Annaleigh protested, moving to sit in the seat next to him. She pulled her knee to her chest. “It’s hard for him. He’s not the same…it’s like he really hates himself.”

“Maybe he does,” JC said quietly. He put his hand up defensively when Annaleigh shot him a glare. “I’m not saying that it’s a good thing. Look, I care about Lance, you know I do, but he has to figure this out for himself. You can’t fix all his problems.”

“I’m not trying to fix all his problems,” Annaleigh protested. “I’m trying to make him happy again.” She then said in a quieter voice, almost pouting. “I want my Lance back.”

“I hate seeing him like this as much as you do,” JC said. “And I may not be around him all of the time, but I know you. Whether you realize it or not, I know you like trying to help people fix their problems because you hate seeing people sad or upset.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “If you ask me, I think it’s because you want to make up for not being able to fix your parents’ marriage.”

Annaleigh stayed silent, looking around the studio. The walls were a bright red, but lined with album after album and poster after poster. A couple of posters of the MTV VMA Moonman, and logo. A couple of paintings lined the walls in between the bookshelves. A couch and a chair sat in the corner of the room, the shelves lined with pictures of *NSYNC (groups and solos) and a picture of his album cover.

“Lance will be ok,” JC said to break the silence. “He can overcome anything; I’ve seen him do it.”

“Josh—“

“Did you know that when we were signed to BMG Ariola Munich, the record company didn’t want Lance?” JC asked her. Annaleigh blinked in surprise, slowly lowering her foot to the ground. “No one told you?” Annaleigh slowly shook her head back and forth. “They didn’t want him because of his dancing, but we weren’t going to drop him. We stood by him and supported him and helped him whenever he asked. But, that’s it…we waited until he asked.”

“This is different, JC,” Annaleigh protested.

“In some ways, yes,” JC agreed, slowly nodding his head. “And I’m not around him all of the time, so I really can’t say too much about what he’s going through.”

“You didn’t say much when he came out either,” Annaleigh replied. JC twisted his mouth to the side, scratching at the back of his neck. Annaleigh’s shoulders slumped as she let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, C, I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s ok,” JC replied. “You’re not the only one who’s said that to me. I mean…Chris and I were the only two *NSYNC members who didn’t publically say anything.” He ran a hand over his face and into his hair. “But, I did reach out to him and I did give him my support. And I plan on supporting him for the rest of his life, just like I plan on supporting Chris, Justin, and Joey for the rest of their lives. I’ll do anything I can to help them, but like I said, only if they ask.”

“You’re the type who likes to help people that don’t know how to help themselves. And I commend you for it; in fact I’m impressed by it. I know it’s hard and it seems impossible to help someone who is that far deep in pain, sadness, and fear, but it’s hard to help someone who doesn’t want the help or doesn’t realize they need it. Right now, I think Lance needs to figure out what he needs, what he wants. Just be there for him, like you always are. He’ll come around.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Annaleigh said with a heavy sigh.

“Be his friend,” JC replied. “Don’t give up on him. I know I won’t. I haven’t before.” He gave a soft smile, which she returned.

“Thanks, Josh,” Annaleigh replied, reaching out a hand to squeeze his knee.

“You’re welcome,” JC replied. “Now, let’s work on that song of yours. Have you gotten anymore work done on it?”

“Yeah, it’s…actually it’s turned into a song about Lance,” Annaleigh replied, getting out of her seat to grab her bag.

“Why am I not surprised?” JC asked with an amused smile.