-06-

“Oh, Lance. You look terrible.”

Lance let out a sigh through his nose as his mother, Diane Bass, repeated those words for the umpteenth time, the look of worry etched into her face as it had been since her and her husband, James Bass, had returned home to find him trying to reduce the swelling of his face with a steak while Darren tried to scrub the dripping blood out of the carpets and off the floors as well as he possibly could.

“You’ve said that already, mom,” he managed to get around Diane constantly dabbing at his face, removing the dirt and blood.

“I just don’t understand who would do this to you,” Diane said, removing the wad of paper towel from Lance’s face. He grimaced, seeing how red the white paper towel used to be.

“Someone who doesn’t want to accept him,” James replied quietly. He had his hands resting on the kitchen table, face angled towards the floor. He slowly shook his head back and forth before curling his fingers into fists, smacking the table with them. “We’re lucky Darren was there to help you.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, sir,” Darren replied, from where he was leaning up against the doorway to the kitchen. He looked exhausted. “I hate to leave suddenly but—“

“No, no, dear, we understand,” Diane said, instantly turning towards him. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek, giving him a warm smile, which he returned. “We appreciate you helpin’ Lance. You’ve always been such a great friend.”

Lance pulled the corners of his lips back into a tight smile. Anything else and he was sure he would’ve split his lip again. He knew that Lance would never be where he was in life if he had never met Darren. In a way, he owed everything to his friend and he couldn’t thank him enough for it. He was always sure to keep him grounded during the height of *NSYNC fame and to let him know if he was changing for the worse.

“It’s no problem, Miss Diane,” Darren replied.

“You have a bit of a drive, let me get you something to take with you to eat,” Diane continued. “Are you thirsty?” Before he could answer, she turned towards her husband, waving her hand in the air. “James, I think we have some left over pound cake in the basement fridge.”

“I appreciate the offer, Miss Diane, but I’m goin’ ‘a have ta pass,” Darren replied, his face turning bright pink. He stepped forward to give her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “It was great t ta see ya again, I jus’ wish it was under better circumstances.”

“So do we, son,” James replied, taking his hand, shaking it vigorously. “So do we. But, I thank ya kindly for always bein' there for my boy.”

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Lance said, managing a nod of his head. He slowly got to his feet and clapped his hand into Darren’s, giving him a man hug. “I’ll see you down in Jackson.”

“Take your time, there’s no rush,” Darren replied. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but shifted his eyes towards Lance’s parents and pressed his lips together, giving a brief shake of his head. His eyes held a look of worry, but also confidence, and loyalty. He lifted his hand in a wave. “I’ll see y’a later.”

Lance stretched his arms up over his head, his eyebrows, lips, nose, and scrunching up, seeming to all slide into the center of his face as the sore muscles in his arms stretched and moved underneath his skin. He tapped the wooden frame leading into the kitchen and got a good look at his parents, probably the first time he had ever really looked at them.

They looked worried and tired and sad and scared and…just done. They looked like they were tired of the whole situation and he couldn’t blame them. Here he was living on his own, states away trying to live his own life and they got the brunt of anything and everything he did. And it wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry,” he said before he even realized that he had said a word.

“Oh, honey, for what?” Diane asked as she lifted a hand to toss the crumpled up ball of paper towel into the trash can.

“For all of this,” Lance replied, using one hand to indicate his face before waving a hand in a giant circle in the air. “I didn’t…”

“What is it, Lance?” James asked, slowly lowering himself into a chair at the head of the kitchen table. He folded his hands down onto the table. “We’re all ears.”

Just let it out, Lance, Lane coached himself. You’ll be able to work everything out for them in no time. Things will go back to normal. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you, and I’m sorry I’ve been causing you so much trouble, and I’m sorry if you think you’ve failed in raising me and…” he trailed off to take a breath of air in between all the words that came rushing out of his mouth. “And I just want you to know that I’m getting it all fixed. You won’t have to deal with it anymore.”

“Failed you?” James asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “Son, we don’t think we’ve failed raising you. We couldn’t be any prouder to have you as our son.”

“What would make ya think that we…” Diane trailed off, her face flushing. Lance dropped his gaze to the floor. “Oh.” She put a hand over her heart, slowly backing up until she could sink into a chair. “Sweetie, I know that I may have said some just hurtful things when I first found out, but you know I didn’ mean ta hurt you. I jus’…I didn’ know how to handle the news but we both know that God made you who you’re supposed ta be.”

“You don’t hate me?” Lance asked quietly.

“How could you think that?” James asked.

“Because I hate myself,” Lance replied, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly. “I hate what people say about me and how they look at me. Everything was fine before everyone knew.”

“Son, you were called ‘Half-Pint’ all through middle and high school,” James pointed out to him. Lance made a face as the nickname reached his ears. James let out a small chuckle of amusement. “I see that it’s still something that bothers you. You’ve also been called names when y’all were touring as *NSYNC but you continued to be yourselves and do what you love did you not?”

“Yes, sir, that’s true,” Lance replied.

“So, why does this have to be something you can’t learn to adapt to?” James asked. He looked over at his wife, nodding in Diane’s direction. “It was hard for us to really let sink in, and we both agree we may have said some things without thinkin’ that hurt ya more than we’ll probably ever know and we apologize for that. From our hearts we apologize for hurting you but we didn’t understand. That’s the main thing.”

“The hate and anger from all those people online, they’re jus’ online you can always close your computer or log out of your e-mails,” Diane added, holding her hands out towards her son. Lance hesitated for a moment before stepping towards her, sliding his hands into hers. “They’re all comin’ from people who don’t understand you, who are uneducated about homosexuality. They’re scared of things they don’ understand.”

 Diane bowed her head, gently squeezing Lance’s hands. “We were scared too, but not of you, but how everyone was goin’ ta treat you,” she explained, tightening her grip on his hands when he tried to pull himself away. “We were scared about what would come next; that somethin’ like this was goin’ ta happen so we’ve been tryin’ ta explain to people that bein’ a homosexual isn’ what you’re choosin’ ta be, but it’s who you are and it doesn’t change ya.”

Lance could feel his bottom lip trembling. His knees bent until he was kneeling on the ground, peering up at her. He flashed back to all the times when he was a kid when he would get hurt and needed his mom to kiss his “boo boo” to make the pain go away. Only now, he knew that it would ultimately be up to him, but he always knew that he’d have his parents’ support.

“R-really?” he asked quietly. “Ya have?”

“Absolutely, sweetie pie,” Diane replied, moving to cup his face in her hands. “We were worried ‘bout ya livin’ out in California all by yourself.”

“I suspect people are more open out there,” James commented and Lance gave a nod of his head. They had gay bars out in Los Angeles for crying out loud.

Clinton was nowhere near the same as Los Angeles. It was more of a quiet town; one where everybody knew everybody’s business to help raise not only each other’s kids, but to raise each other as a community. It was a picture perfect place and no one wanted to be the cause of the blemish in the town. While he hated that about Clinton, it was still and would forever be his home. No one had a problem with him (or his family) until he came out.

“You have a gift Lance; one that not everyone else in life is born with and one that can take people a long time to learn and that gift is the ability to love everybody that comes into your life,” Diane continued using the pads of her thumbs to wipe at the tears that clung to his eyelashes. He sniffed and used his arm to wipe at his eyes. “You find somethin’ to love about just about anyone, so you need to find something to love ‘bout yourself. I could tell ya everythin’ both your father and I, and your sister, love ‘bout you—“

“And you know we would,” James interrupted his wife and Lance chuckled.

“And Jake loves you, too,” Diane continued and Lance blinked in surprise. He hadn’t ever mentioned his relationship—or failed relationship—to his parents at all apart from the fact that he was happy, he was safe, and they had both gotten tested before their relationship had really became serious. “We were worried when you wouldn’ take our calls so we’ve been talkin’ ta Darren and Annaleigh, to make sure you were ok.”

“D said that you were mad at Ace,” Lance said, shifting his gaze over towards his dad. “For…y’know, keeping my secret for me.”

“Lance, she was jus’ bein’ a good friend,” James explained. He ran a hand over his face before resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He pinched at the inner corners of his eyes with his fingers, pressing his lips together. He was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully. “We were a bit disappointed and frustrated we didn’ hear anythin’ from you, but she was jus’ respectin’ your wishes. We’re glad you have both Darren and Annaleigh in your life.”

“And while we did originally think how this would affect the future prospects of having grandbabies,” Diane continued, giving him Lance a gentle smile, “we know that this is who you truly are. We just ask that you can give us time but don’ be afraid to be honest with us. We can understand why you had ta keep it a secret, but as long as you can be brave ‘bout this, so can we.”

“We’re proud of you, Lance,” James added. “I hope ya know that.” He swallowed thickly. “I really do.”

Lance did know. He worked hard in every part of his life to be sure that he wouldn’t disappoint them or make them feel like they could’ve pushed him to do more. He hadn’t thought too much about it, but it had suddenly hit him that he, in a way, was denying them of having grandkids. Sure, he could adopt or even find a friend who would be willing to be a surrogate, and he knew his family would love the kid all the same but…

Lance bit back a groan. He was just messing more things up without really thinking about it. Maybe I didn’t think this whole thing through. He pushed the corners of his lips up into a smile before getting to his feet. “I’m going to lay down for a little while, mom.” She blinked up at him. “I’m ok. I’m just tired.”

“You sure you don’ want anythin’ ta eat?” Diane asked. “Puttin’ somethin’ warm in your belly will do ya good. Make you feel a bit better.”

“That’s ok, mom,” Lance replied before moving to kiss her cheek. “Really. I’m fine. I just need some sleep.” Diane pressed her lips together, twisting her mouth to the side in a smile.

“Ok,” she replied.

“Uh, son?” James asked, looking over at Lance as he moved towards the kitchen door. Lance raised his eyebrows as he looked over at his dad. “Are you going to church service with us, tonight?”

Lance let out a long sigh, putting his hands on his hips. “Let me sleep on it, dad,” he replied. James looked like he was going to protest, but nodded his head in reply. Lance turned on his heels and made his way up the stairs and to his room. He paused in the doorway, looking at the same pictures and posters that lined the walls of his room.

It was so funny—in an ironic kind of way, not a “ha ha” kind of way—to know that one part of his life, the part that he didn’t revisit that often as he got older was one of the only thing that had stayed the same. If only he could’ve just stayed and hid out in his room for the rest of his life.  And he proceeded to do just that as he kicked off his shoes and dropped down onto his bed before he wrapped himself in his blankets.

He wasn’t sure how long he was asleep for when he was jerked away after a pillow collided with the side of his head, setting off an explosion of pain in the side of his face. He blinked open his eyes, squinting into the darkness, a jolt of fear hitting his chest when, for a moment he didn’t realize where he was. He pulled his blankets down from over his head and calmed down, recognizing his room. Sensing someone else in the room and registering the bend in his mattress by his feet, Lance rolled onto his back to face his sister, Stacy Bass.

“Hey, Squirt,” Stacy greeted him, tossing his pillow aside. She winced as she got a good look at his face. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” Lance said, deadpan. He peered over at her, eyes narrowing slightly. “You look exhausted. Are the kids ok?” He wiggled free from his blankets, sitting up. A bolt of excitement at seeing his and nephew (Leyton was four, and Keegan was two) hit him. “Are they here?”

“They’re at home with their dad,” Stacy replied with a shake of her head. “I wasn’t sure how to explain ta them what happened to ya, and why, jus’ yet.” She put a hand in the air. “But, I reassured them that you were ok.” A teasing smile came to her face. “What with your big ole head an’ all.”

Lance chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lifted his arms, silently asked for a hug. Stacy gave him a warm smile before answering his question with a hug as tightly as he could stand. She then reached for the abandoned pillow and hit him a second time.

“Ow! Stace!”

“Conversion therapy? You must be nuttier than a fruit cake!” Stacy cried, lifting the pillow to hit him again. Lance eyed the pillow warily, tensing his muscles in preparation. “Some of your marbles musta knocked loose to think of that!”

“Stace,” Lance said quietly.

“Isn’ that when they shock ya for every ‘gay’ thought you can have?” Stacy asked, ignoring him. “That’s not helpin’ ya, it’s hinderin’ ya from bein’ who you are.”

“Stace!”

“I’m not done,” Stacy said and Lance pressed his lips together. “I nearly hit the roof when Darren told me that that’s what you were thinkin’ ‘bout doin’. You can’ just come outta the close to go runnin’ back in with your tail between your legs jus’ cause some idiots don’ like who you are.”

“It’ll make everything easier, ok?” Lance asked, jumping into the conversation. “I just want things to go back to normal.” Whatever that is.

“And they will, but it takes time,” Stacy said, her expression softening as she brushed her hair behind her ears. “It may too much pressure now, but you’re not jus’ doin’ this for yourself now. You have your fans who may be goin’ through the same thin’ to think about and not only them, but your niece and nephew and Brianna, too.”

 Stacy put a hand over her heart. “They know ‘bout Uncle Lance and his friend, but they’re not that at that age to really understand what it is ta be gay. You’re not hidin’ yourself from them, why would you want ta do it with people ya don’ know?” She crossed her legs and turned to face him. “What happened to my brother who would always beg me to do little shows for mom and dad?”

“Stace, you dragged me into doing more than half of those,” Lance pointed out, letting out a small laugh. “Like the time you made me dress up like a horse instead of a cowboy when you were in your country phase.”

“You were the only one I knew who could actually spit like a horse,” Stacy protested, putting her hands up defensively. She then stuck her tongue out at him before lightly spitting as if to prove her point. Lance rolled his eyes as Stacy laughed, shrugging her shoulders as if to say You did it, not me.  

“And then there was the time you made me and Darren help Ace with one of her pageants by dressing up as one of the Three Musketeers, to ‘save’ you,” Lance continued, using air quotes.

“What I’m gettin’ at is that I believe God doesn’ want you ta jus’ be a musician, or jus’ an actor, but someone that helps people whether that’s through music or yer own voice,” Stacy said, reaching out a hand to shake his knee. “But, ya have to learn ta help yourself first, but I don’t think this therapy will. It won’ be helpin’ you, it’ll be hidin’ you and you were fed up with havin’ ta do that before.”

Good point. Lance pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. “Thanks, Stace,” he said quietly.

“I can’ let anybody hurt my baby brother,” Stacy said, reaching out a hand to ruffle his overgrowing hair. “That’s my job.” Lane chuckled. “So, mom said that you and Jake broke up?” Her eyebrows lowered into a look of concern. “You ok? What happened?”

“I don’t even know,” Lance replied, with a shake of his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “One minute we were fine and then…he was just annoyed with everything.” Stacy gave him a confused look and he shook his head back and forth. He didn’t want to talk about it; it still brought a pang of hurt to his heart, but at the same time, he was still confused about what had happened. “I don’t know, I think it was more than what he was letting on, like something else was bothering him.”

“Maybe he’s simply jus’ not for you,” Stacy replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “Remember Seth? I thought he was ‘the one’ before I met Ford.” She peered over at Lance for a moment. “Do you think Jake was ‘the one’ for you?”

“I…I don’t know,” Lance slowly replied. “I mean, Stace, you know I’ve had a few girlfriends.” Stacy nodded her head.

None of those relationships had lasted more than a couple of months. Things ended amicably, but Lance couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he was too gentlemanly. That was due in part to just doing what he thought all guys would do on dates—and he went on a lot of group dates to kind of watch and figure out what to do. He felt like he was in love with them, he sure as heck had strong feelings for them, but it wasn’t until he really started to allow himself to feel the same way for a man did he find that he had no idea what love was before.

“But, Jake was different,” Lance continued. “I really felt like something could’ve happened but now…” He trailed off, peering over at his sister. “How’d you know Ford was the right one for you?”

“It’s nothin’ that spectacular,” Stacy replied, waving her hand in the air. “My car broke down around a coffee shop in Oxford, near the University of Mississippi and I was jus’ standin’ on the side of the road as I waited for a tow truck.” She closed her eye for a moment as she thought. “I musta been standin’ out there for ages, but he pulled up in his car, rolled down the window and said, ‘First off, I’m Ford Lofton. Second, I’m not goin’ ta hurt your or anythin’ but I notice you’ve been standin’ here for a while and thought you’d want some company or maybe a ride?’.”

“I recognized him from the shop, he came in on a pretty regular basis, but I didn’ really know him. I told him that I was fine and he insisted on waitin’ and he did. He jus’ sat in his car, waitin’ for the tow truck ta come. I couldn’ tell ya how long I waited, but in that time we jus’ started talkin’. And talkin’, and talkin’, and talkin’. But, he didn’ once move to get out of his car; he wanted ta be sure I felt safe around him. When the tow truck finally came, I felt kinda sad ta end the conversation, before he asked me for coffee later that week. I had barely known him for a few hours, but I already knew that I was smitten.”

Lance felt his lips pull back into a smile. He could tell Stacy was truly happy and in love with her husband. She had a wonderful family, one he liked to visit as often as he could, but also found himself leaving just a little sad knowing he wouldn’t have the normal family would he ever get the opportunity to get married.

“Now, are you sure about this therapy?” Stacy asked. Lance leaned over the desk next to his bed and reached for his laptop. He set it on his lap and lifted the lid.

He entered the password into his computer and struck the ENTER key with his finger before opening a web browser, bringing up his bookmarked sites. He then spun his computer around to face his sister and she leaned closer to read the website.

“ ‘Guaranteed ta turn your loved one from their chosen sexual orientation to follow the truth path of God’. Lance you said so yourself, this isn’ a choice.” She paused for a moment before looking him in the eye. “You’re tryin’ ta brainwash yourself. I’m tellin’ mom.”

 “No you’re not,” Lance instantly replied, feeling anger churn in his stomach. “Why do you have ta butt into everythin’?” His accent slid into his voice, much like it always did when he got mad. “This is what I want ta do, why can’ you jus’ accept that?”

“I accept you as who you are, as my brother,” Stacy replied. “Not someone who’d become a shell of the man I grew up with.”

“I already am different from the guy you grew up with,” Lance snapped. “This has changed everythin’! It’s changed me. It’s…it’s like the old me is dead.”

Stacy hiked an eyebrow. “Boy, you don’ look dead ta me,” she commented, giving him a pointed look. “Jesus will help you through this; he’ll help you learn and make it through this. You can’ jus’ give up on yourself. Look, you didn’ think you could make it as a dancer with *NSYNC, but you stuck with it and proved everyone wrong.”

“That’s different and ya know it,” Lance muttered.

“What I know is that my brother has always amazed me with what he can accomplish no matter what people said about him,” Stacy replied. “The words and the actions may hurt your soul now, maybe even put a hole in ya heart, but they didn’t break you. Maybe you’re chipped just a bit, but God made you strong. He’ll help ya fix that whole; learn how to make it stronger so it won’t happen again.”

She then climbed off his bed. “Anyway, mom jus’ wanted me ta see if you were goin’ ta church with us tonight,” she said to him, holding his hand out towards her brother. “Maybe it’ll lift your spirit some.” Lance just stared up at him. “People need some sense knocked into them, Lance, and you’re gonna have ta be the one ta do it. You can’ hide forever.”

“You’re startin’ ta sound like Ace,” Lance commented.

“Where do ya think she got it from?” Stacy asked with a smile and a wink. Lance chuckled before sliding his hand into hers.

Lance shifted in his seat, adjusting his tie before smoothing it with one hand. He felt hot under the collar, aware of all the stare and whispers that floated around him. All he wanted to do was shrink in his seat, but he was sure Stacy wouldn’t let him do so. His back was hurting from sitting up so straight, trying to ignore everything.

As soon as he had stepped into the chapel, he felt a sense of security wash over him despite the double takes that people would shoot him. Women had hid behind their fans, turning their heads away. Some of the children had gawked before they were ushered away. This church was where everything had started; where he really felt like he had a place where he could fit in.

He had stood off to the side, watching as his parents interacted with some of the church goers. They had shifted their gaze in Lance’s direction every now and then, but his parents didn’t seem to notice, or just chose to ignore it.

“Jim, I’ve been prayin’ for your family through this rough time. I know He will give you strength to push through.”

“I appreciate it, Dottie,” Lance had hear his father reply as politely as he could. “He certainly has helped us understand our son and really get to love him even more so. However, I believe your prayers would best be directed towards Brother Terrance. I hear his wife has become ill.”

Lance had smiled to himself, silently thanking his dad for standing up to him before turning his head when he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Jazzy!” Lance had turned towards Darren’s sister, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “You look amazing. What are you doing here?”

“Just popped into town for a couple days,” Jasmine Dale had replied as she brushed her hair out of her face. “Doing some favors for a few people.” Her lips then pulled down at the corners. “Heard you were back and wanted ta see how you’re doin’.”

“I’m…hanging in there,” Lance had replied after a moment. “Just taking it a day at a time.”

“That’s good,” Jasmine had replied. She was silent for a moment before taking in a breath of air. “Anyway, I jus’ wanted ta say that I’m ok with who you are. It doesn’ make me love you any less. I can only imagine how hard things are for you.”

“Thanks, Jazz, I really appreciate it,” Lance had said, giving her another hug.

“And don’ worry ‘bout any of them,” Jasmine had added, waving her hand in the air, motioning around the vast chapel. “They jus’ want somethin’ ta gossip about before they decide ta pull their panty hose out of their butts.” Lance’s eyes shot up before he let out a bark of laughter. “I know that sounds mean, but somethin’s gotta be stuck up there.” She winked at him before sliding past him, the clacking of her heels muffled on the carpeted floor.

“And now, as we move to the offertory of this service, I’d like to welcome Gabriel Hanson and Jasmine Dale to perform a musical selection,” Pastor Cunningham said with a smile, swinging his arm out to the side indicating the musical instruments set up behind him. Lance smiled, clapping along with the rest of the congregation as Annaleigh’s half-brother and Jasmine stepped up onto the stage.

Fate reached for the guitar sitting on its stand, looping the strap around his neck before stepping up to the microphone in front of him as the other musicians filled in behind them. “Hi. I haven’t been here in a while, but it’s nice to be back,” he said. He let out a little laugh. “It’s the first time I’ve played here without Annaleigh with me, but Jasmine has graciously accepted to fill her role as my duet partner today.” Jasmine gave a series of curtsies as she was applauded.

“Annaleigh is out in California right now, helping a friend with an album. We’re currently playing a few shows at church retreats and any place that will have us and we’ve both have enjoyed performing here. This is the first time I’ve played this song without her, but Jasmine has an amazing voice so I hope you like it. Annaleigh wrote this song a little while ago while on tour and we’ve been working on it until she was comfortable to share it with everyone. This song is called Salvation.”

Fate turned to face the musicians behind him to check if they were ready. He tapped his foot on the ground four times before they started playing, a small piano chord starting up, the drums coming in, and then Jasmine started to sing.

“All alone lost in this abyss crawling in the dark,” Jasmine sang quietly at first, keeping her arms down by her sides. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Nothing to wet my longing lips and I wonder where you are. Are you far? Will you come to my rescue?” She closed her eyes, a strength coming to her voice. “Am I left to die? But I can’t give up on you.” She pointed her fingers towards the ceiling as there was a loud crash of cymbals and a rock feel came into the song.

“I feel you keeping me alive, you are my salvation,” Fate sang with Jasmine, their voices mixing and harmonizing in a way that sent shivers down Lance’s spine. Fate’s fingers stretched from fret to fret as he played the guitar in his hands.

“Touch you, taste you, feel you here,” Jasmine sang. “Oh, oh. Yeah, yeah.”

“I feel you keeping me alive, you are my salvation.”

“Hold me, heal me, keep me near. Oh, oh. Yeah, yeah.”

“My heart will burn for you, it’s all I can do,” the two sang together. Lance looked around the room, a little surprised to see the smiles on faces. The song had a rock edge to it, something he didn’t think he’d ever hear in the church.

It brought him some hope (something he hadn’t felt in a while); things were changing around him. People were being more open-minded. He just needed to knock some sense into people, just like his sister said.

His lips slowly curled up into a smile. He had an idea on how to do so; no one was going to push him around again just because of who he was. He had to do it for his friends, for his family, his niece, his nephew, his goddaughter, and more importantly for himself.