Justin sat down in the middle of his living room, holding the final picture of the album in his hands, not daring to look at it.
He had lost the count of how many jumps he had made, how many different realities he had visited. He didn’t even know how many days had passed since the night when he had started jumping.
What he knew was that there was only one last picture with all of them together. He had managed to mess up every single time somehow, and now he only had that one chance to make everything right.
The first picture he had visited since the reality where AJ had died had been of the beginning of 2000, right before the Virgin Record Megastore event. He had managed to save AJ by talking on the phone to Kevin, but in the process he had lost Chris.
The less Justin thought about a reality where losing *N Sync had meant that Chris had spiraled right into addiction, the better.
In that one, Chris had been alone until the end. So Justin had jumped into the next picture, convinced that somewhere, somehow, there was a change he could do that would fix everything for the better.
It had gotten worse. There wasn’t a single timeline in which he managed to do the three simple things he had decided to do. He had seen Chris happy again, of course, in practically every timeline where he still had his friends, Chris was happy. Sometimes he had a partner, sometimes he lived alone. Chris’s happiness seemed to be the easiest thing to manage, as long as Justin’s younger selves didn’t mess things up.
He had seen Chris with everyone at least once, repeating a couple. With JC, mostly, and those realities were always the hardest to leave. With Howie also, but in those ones, AJ almost always ended up either dead or in a terrible shape.
Apparently, the fact that Howie had roomed with AJ that particular night was very important for the future, and Justin had kept it in his notes after the third time he had managed to get the Backstreet Boy killed.
There had been realities where Chris wasn’t with anyone in either *N Sync or the Backstreet Boys, but the relief Justin had felt upon finding the first one had been short lived. The world was simply not ready for the Kirkpatrick-Spears household, and that was another reality that Justin wanted out of his memories as soon as it was possible. He had even visited a timeline where Chris was living with Marshal Mathers, and strangely enough, that hadn’t been the worst.
The second point of his agenda, saving Joey, Kelly and Briahna from dying, was a lot harder. When he managed to warn Joey on time, something else happened. Worse than seeing Chris play magical chairs with his relationships, was the gruesome game of ‘what happened to the Fatones this time?’. It was as if no matter what he did, fate wanted to mock him. When he managed to get the Fatone family away from Chicago, there was a mugging in New York. Or a car accident in Tampa. Whenever it didn’t happen in time for Justin to hear the ominous bell of his phone, something in the past had been equally horrendous.
Fate’s favorite seemed to be the trapdoor in New Orleans.
In one of those timelines, Justin didn’t remember anymore if it was the one where Chris had been Aaron Carter’s manager with Lance, or the one where Chris had been single but living in JC’s yard, JC had told him about a Ray Bradbury story that more or less said that stepping on one butterfly could change the entire course of history for the worst. Justin hadn’t stepped on any bugs, not that he knew, but he was willing to accept that maybe somewhere he had pissed the time continuum off and Joey was the one suffering the consequences.
Still, saving Joey’s life wasn’t as hard as trying to get *N Sync back together.
He had thought that would be the easiest thing to manage. Jumping back so far that their troubles hadn’t even started yet should have taken care of the problem, but it just kept making it worse. In one reality, they hadn’t even recorded No Strings Attached, and so they had never become big enough for Jive to consider JC’s and his solo album. In that timeline, Justin and JC had been living together. JC said they were happy, and he wanted to believe that was true.
Still, when he had told the story to JC, JC had let him jump again.
“I wouldn’t change my life for anything in the world,” that JC had said. “But if you think it really can be better for you, go ahead.”
Justin had arrived to the past with his eyes filled with tears.
In another, they had stayed with Transcon two years more. That one was the worst of the lot, even worse than the one where Chris had died.
And now, sitting in a world where *N Sync had disbanded right after Pop Odyssey –like it had-, where he was hailed as the next King of Pop, and he hadn’t had that embarrassing moment with Janet Jackson in the Superbowl; where Chris was living still happy with Dani, Joey, Kelly and Briahna were safe and sound in their house, and AJ was sober and alive, Justin was getting ready for his last jump.
Because in this perfect world, JC had been killed in a car accident, two years after hiatus started.
There were three things without which Justin wasn’t ready to live. JC’s friendship, Chris’s friendship, and the lives of *N Sync.
But this was the last picture, and he had to make it count.
It was funny, somehow, that it was the last picture. He had thought that there were more, at least a couple, but for some reason, all the older pictures he had didn’t show them all together. There was always one of them missing from the frame. He should’ve noticed before, when he was going through 2000 pictures as if he had no cares in the world, but he hadn’t and the end result was that he only had that one picture taken the day they had first performed as *N Sync.
Somewhere, he was sure that someone was laughing at the irony.
In the picture, they were hanging together at the Pleasure Island backstage. He figured it had been taken an hour or so before their first concert, since they didn’t look tired yet. Chris was smiling, his arms around Joey’s shoulders, wearing a stripped polo shirt. Joey was wearing a white bonnet and a black shirt, hitting Lance’s shoulder playfully. Lance still had that ‘deer caught in the lights’ look on his face, his smile so big that it was obvious he was terrified. Justin looked happy, happier than he remembered being, with the most awful striped 90’s shirt. He didn’t even remember being that young and carefree anymore. JC was sitting close to them, with a strange smile that said that he had seen that type of antics many times before. None of them was looking at the camera. It wasn’t a photo opportunity, it wasn’t a photo shot. All those were too far away from them yet.
He looked down at himself. He had changed his jeans for an old pair of slacks he had bought second hand that afternoon after realizing that the reality he was in was even a bigger mess than the ones before, a reality where Britney had joined *N Sync as a female singer, getting him out of the group, and his white wife beater was covered with an old sweatshirt that covered his tattoo. If someone saw him on the street, he wouldn’t give him a second look. In his pockets, he carried five hundred dollars, all in old bills from 1993 to 1994, and enough coins to make a phone call and one old phone number.
One of the main advantages of his fame was that he had met a lot of interesting people, and knew a lot of weird stories of those people.
JC had told him that nothing could be gained without a sacrifice, and there was one sacrifice that Justin was very willing to make, just to fix things right once and for all.
Breathing deeply, he focused on the picture.
It was his last jump, and he was going to make it count.
* * *
The Pleasure Island club was not full yet when Justin appeared, next to the men’s bathroom. Just as he had planned, no one seemed to pay attention to him, even when he had just appeared out from thin air.
Encouraged, he went to the nearest pay phone and dialed the phone number he had brought along.
He remembered one party, back in 2005, when Cam had introduced him to Mark Wahlberg. At the time, it had been funny to Justin that they had never met before, even when Justin knew all of the old New Kids on the Block. At that dinner, Wahlberg and Justin had become friends, and the actor had confessed to Justin that he had always wanted to do something like what his brother had done for him. Give a young group a change.
Sure, in 1996, Mark wasn’t yet the big name actor he would become ten years later, but Justin hoped that particular dream had been born already.
“’lo?” Mark’s voice on the phone didn’t sound sleepy, and Justin hoped that meant he was in Orlando, as he had calculated before jumping. “Who is this?”
“Mark? You probably don’t remember me,” he said, quickly, and trying to remember all the conversations he had had with the actor. “But we’re friends. Close enough that you told me what really happened in that party three months ago. And I got something for you.”
“Who is this?” Wahlberg repeated on the phone, now sounding annoyed. “Look, man, if you want money to keep that story out of the papers, you’re barking to the wrong tree.”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Justin hurried to say. He was running short on time, and he couldn’t ruin this call. “My name is Allan Scott, we met in a bar, that’s why you probably don’t remember me. It really doesn’t matter, what matter is, you still interested in giving young singers a chance?”
“How do you know about that?”
“You told me,” Justin smiled. He had managed to get his attention. “And I know you’re probably thinking I’m going to start telling you about my nephew’s garage band, but no. Can you get to the Pleasure Island Club in less than forty five minutes?”
“I think so, why? You want me to hear your nephew’s garage band?”
“No. This guys don’t even know me,” that was true, Justin figured. He had changed so much in the last few weeks, he doubted he would recognize himself. “Just come. Listen to them. And if you like them, you’ll know what to do.”
He hung up, waiting for the nausea to come. But minutes passed, and he was still standing in the past.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Maybe I won’t jump until Mark comes.”
Trying not to think about what would happen if Mark didn’t show up, he got a table near the entrance of the stage. If nothing else, he would get to hear that first concert. He really didn’t remember much of it now, given that at the moment he was even more nervous than when he had won the beauty pageant.
It was only because he was really near the entrance to the stage that he heard the announcer and the club manager argue about the concert. It was absolutely chance that he saw the other man, the one he remembered had introduced *N Sync’ performance leave furious over a payment problem.
Later, he wouldn’t know exactly what prompted him to get off from his chair and offer his services for free, but at the time he didn’t had much time to think. The end result was that he found himself back on the stage where everything had started, getting ready to introduce the group.
He took a deep breath, trying to remember how they had been introduced that first time. But it had been so long, that he couldn’t actually think of anything, and he could see both the audience and the management start to get anxious.
“Hey, everyone,” he finally said, smiling brightly. “We got a wonderful surprise for you guys tonight. I’m pretty sure that you’ll be talking about it for years to come, and every one of your friends will envy you because you all have the great opportunity to see a very talented group of young men today for the first time ever in the whole world. Don’t take my word for it, just give it up for Chris, JC, Joey, Lance and Justin, *N Sync!”
The audience clapped as the lights dimmed, letting Justin walk away from the stage. As he did, he crossed next to Chris, and the only reason why he recognized him was because he had just seen him in the picture. It was the first time that he was the same age as his older friend.
“Hey, I meant what I said,” Justin whispered, quickly. “You guys will be big. And if you want a word of advice... there’s a guy in the audience that might give you a better deal than Transcon. Listen to him.”
Chris turned to see him, just a bit confused, before Joey hurried him in. Justin got back to his seat, and seeing as he still wasn’t jumping, sat down to enjoy the song.
It was a very weird experience, to see himself and his friends so young, so innocent to the world that they were just going to get in. But listening to them, Justin couldn’t stop the smile on his face. It was that why he was still trying. To get that feeling again. That happiness in performing.
Around the second song, he glanced over to see Mark Wahlberg come in, and, as the other man listened, Justin felt the ripple around his body begin.
He had made his last change.
* * *
Justin blinked as the world focused itself around him. He didn’t want to open his eyes at first, because he knew that when he did, he would have to face everything. Every single change he had done, that now was irreversible.
He looked down at his hands, to see a wedding band. Gold and bright, in his ring finger. That didn’t surprise him too much. He had seen more versions of himself married in the last ten or so jumps. It was as if every time he went back further in the past, there were more chances of him married.
Thankfully, he hadn’t repeated the marriage to Britney any single time.
Taking a deep breath, he looked forward, to the wall in front of him. He was back in his living room, a place that he had grown to fear a little. In front of him, there were his platinum and gold records. The ones for *N Sync’s debut album, the ones for Home for Christmas, the ones for NSA, including the big one for the record breaking first week sales. The ones for Celebrity, for Justified…
And four more.
Still Strong, One Night Stand, A Generation and Forever.
Trembling, he got closer to them, to see the names engraved on them. Sure enough, besides the names of the records, was *N Sync, embossed in gold and followed by their names.
Except for A Generation, which had also the Backstreet Boys’s names embossed on it.
“Oh boy,” he muttered, smiling. “That’s new.”
* * *
The problem of not remembering going to bed, Justin figured as he opened his eyes again, now lying on the modified king size he had in this reality, was that he never really knew what to expect. He had had his first taste of it when he had awakened next to Chris, and a couple more times since then.
He was never going to forget waking up next to Kevin Federline, for instance. He hadn’t even waited for the night in that particular timeline. He had gotten up, thrown up and then jumped away without even having breakfast.
In perspective, waking up next to a pregnant Kristen Richardson was not that bad.
“Hon, can you bring me breakfast in bed?” she muttered, hugging him. He tried to calm his breathing. Since he was going to stay in that reality, he couldn’t have a panic attack. “I’m in the mood for pancakes.”
“Sure thing,” he said, forcing his word to be normal. He could do it, he guessed, as long as he didn’t stop to think. “Be back in a minute.”
He got up, kissed her in the forehead and went down to the kitchen. As he did, he took on all the different things he could see in the house. The decoration that was still his usual style, but also a mixture of someone else’s taste.
Kristen. His wife.
The mother of his future son.
“Oh, shit. I’m going to be a father,” he realized in the middle of making pancakes for both Kristen and himself.
The prospect was new, and he smiled. He still thought of himself as single, and it would be a while for him to accept Kristin as his wife and not Kevin’s, but the idea of being a parent didn’t terrified him as much as it used to be.
He was going to try and be great at it.
“Chris called yesterday while you were at the studio,” Kristen told him when he returned, carefully putting the tray next to her. If his calculations were correct, she had to be around seven months pregnant. “He said they changed the meeting to 11:00 this morning. Sorry I forgot to tell you.”
“It’s ok. I can get there in time if I hurry.”
“Just remember, Justin. Chris promised they wouldn’t schedule the next tour until baby J. was born, I know you love performing, but don’t let those two bully you into agreed to anything before next year.”
“I won’t let Chris or Johnny bully me, I promise,” Justin smiled. If Chris was having a meeting with him, and Kristen was worrying about performing, that meant step three was accomplished. The records in his studio proved it so.
A quick call to Joey’s in his way to Jive would take care of step two.
He wouldn’t think about step one until he saw Chris.
“Johnny?” Kristen frowned, amused. “I’m worried about Kevin! I know that man can charm snakes when he puts his mind to it!”
* * *
It took only the phone call to Joey’s house to Justin to realize that he had made quite more changes than what he had hoped for. Joey had answered the phone, and joked immediately that ‘unlike others’ he didn’t need reminders of the group meetings scheduled by Chris. That hadn’t been Justin’s cue to wonder what had he jumped in. His clue had been Joey’s parting words.
“I’ll see you at Freelance, don’t worry.”
He had been half on his way to Jive at the moment, so he stopped the car immediately and started going trough his lists of numbers. Phone number one was Kristen, to whom he said he just missed her, and loved her, feeling a bit sick with himself for lying so quickly. Number two was Chris’s machine. Three was JC’s machine, four Lance’s machine, and he hoped that that meant that everyone else was at Freelance, wherever that was supposed to be.
He hit the jackpot with five, Nick Carter’s phone number.
“Dude, I can’t believe you forgot where your studio is,” Nick laughed on the phone. In the background, Justin thought he could hear Aaron talking. “I thought you had stopped drinking.”
“Shut up, I’ll explain later. Just tell me where it is,” Justin said, wondering why Nick was so friendly with him. With the exception of that first time, whenever the Backstreet Boys were friendly with him, it meant that Chris was dating one of them.
He sincerely hoped it wasn’t Howie. Not because Chris and Howie didn’t made a cute couple, all things considered, but because Howie dating Chris usually meant a dead AJ.
Nick told him the address, which was not far away from Jive’s office, and, on an impulse, Justin decided to fish for more information. “How’s everyone doing? Brian, AJ, the guys?”
“You really are confused if you don’t remember you’ve spent the last two weeks producing AJ’s solo album,” Nick was still laughing. “And Brian and Lieghanne are coming back in two weeks, or so he told me yesterday. I haven’t heard about Howie in a while, but I guess he’s really busy with the Foundation and everything.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Justin bit his lip. AJ was alive, Brian was married, Howie was somewhere. That just left two possibilities, and he wasn’t going to ask to Nick directly if he was dating Chris again. “Talk to you later, I’m late for a meeting.”
“Oh, fuck! Was that today?” Nick swore, and this time Justin was sure he heard Aaron yell ‘we’re going to have to bleep that, Nick!’ “Shit, I’m late too. Can you tell Kevin I was… doing something? Whatever? Like… a very big emergency?”
“Kevin will watch the show, you dork!” Aaron yelled, now very clearly. “And say hi to Justin for me!”
“I’ll think of what to say to Kevin, don’t worry Nick.” Justin hung up, confused but still relieved. While he was going to have to navigate his way very carefully, everything pointed out to the fact that this wasn’t a bad reality.
He just had to survive a meeting with Kevin, Chris, the rest of the group and apparently Nick, and then he could talk to JC. JC would explain everything, even if he didn’t understood why Justin needed the explanations.
* * *
The meting was strange, and Justin wished there was a way to know exactly what had happened to his friends’ lives while he was ‘jumping’. Apparently, if the quick look he had given to the company directory was to be believed, Kevin, Chris and Lance were in charge of at least other five groups. *N Sync and the Backstreet Boys were listed as part of the company, and so were Nick, himself and JC as well as some acts he didn’t recognize. And during the meeting, it was obvious that both Kevin and Chris took their roles very seriously.
“So, we’re all in agreement? AJ’s album will come out in September, the Backstreet Boys’s in April the next year to give time to AJ to do enough promotion work,” Kevin said, reading his notes. “And since *N Sync is on hiatus until Justin’s baby is born, JC and Chris will work in their respective promotion tours.”
“I’ll be helping Reichen with his book tour,” Lance mentioned, sitting next to Howie. It was surreal for Justin to see them all together. When he had arrived, everyone was there except for Nick. He had tried to excuse him, just as he had promised, but Chris laughed, asking everyone to pay up. Apparently, there had been a betting pool about who was going to arrive last, if Justin or Nick.
They were all friendly, working on both groups with equal devotion. As well as everyone’s solo project.
The contrast with Johnny, who had simply dismissed JC’s album in many timelines, Justin’s own in almost all the others, and sometimes even *N Sync’s future work, was sobering.
“I thought you were going to be filming a movie?” Brian was sitting next to Justin. The seating order was still confusing him, since it made the meeting look as a big group meeting, and not two groups.
“Not until December, and it’s a short appearance, really,” Lance smiled. “But I got JC booked in Ghost Whisperer, and Howie? You got an interview for 60 minutes next week so you can keep promoting the Dorough Foundation and the Lupus investigation.”
“Thanks, man.”
Justin tried to stay silent during the meeting, only nodding and giving non-compromising answers. Joey noticed, and asked if he had been brainwashed, but everyone accepted the explanation that Justin was still shell shocked over the fact that he was going to be a father.
Which was actually part of the truth.
Only JC seemed to notice that there was something wrong, since he kept looking at Justin with a strange look in his eyes. It was as if he knew that Justin had no idea of what they were doing there.
“Hey, J. Do you think you’ll have time to check on some songs I’m writing for the next album?” JC asked, casually, as the meeting was drawing to an end.
“Sure,” Justin felt incredible relief at the opportunity. Talking to JC, more often than not, helped him put things in perspective.
* * *
The recording studio was right inside Freelance, so once the meeting was finished, they simply moved downstairs. Justin was getting ready to listen to whatever JC wanted to show him for a while before trying to explain what was going on with him, when JC turned around and surprised him.
“What’s wrong J? You’re not yourself today.” JC said, looking at him worriedly. “Did something happen to Kristen?”
“No, nothing bad,” Justin hurried to say. The last thing he wanted was to worry his friend over a different thing to what was actually the problem. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me,” JC smiled. Justin knew that his friend would probably listen to him, but even so, like every time he tried, he had doubts.
“I’ve been living this same day for the last month or so,” Justin said, sighing. “But it’s not exactly the same day, because I also travel to the past, and I keep changing all our lives.”
JC blinked, twice, before smiling brightly. “You had me thinking that you believed that just for a moment, Justin.”
“I know it sounds insane, but it’s the truth,” Justin sighed. “I don’t know anything about this timeline. Yesterday, I left a time where I was dating Cameron Diaz. Today I’m married to Kristen Richardson, and she’s expecting my baby.”
“Kristen Richardson?” JC asked, looking truly shocked. “You dreamed that Kristen was married to Kevin?”
“Well, they were friends long before I met her!” Justin defended himself. The truth was that in his own world, he hadn’t met Kristen until long after the marriage.
“Sure, Kevin introduced you two and she’s his best friend, but still, that’s odd,” JC frowned. “You’re not going to tell me that you’re trying to find the way back to that, right?”
“No,” Justin smiled. He had had more than enough of traveling. “I like it here. I just needed to tell you so you could, I don’t know, coach me when I forget something important.”
“Like what?”
“If Kristen didn’t marry Kevin, who is the real Mrs. Richardson, for example?” Justin braced himself. He hadn’t had a chance to ask that last times Kristen had been Mrs. Timberlake. He just hoped JC wouldn’t say Cameron.
“Last time you called Chris ‘Mrs. Richardson’ he kicked your ass,” JC laughed. “That was seven years ago, I think.”
“Chris?” Justin almost fell off his chair. “He’s Kevin’s partner? How?”
“They say it happen somewhere between the time they spent babysitting all of us in Germany, and our first collaboration in Jive.” JC looked thoughtful. “Why you’re so surprised? Kevin is a great guy.”
“Yeah, but he hated our guts for years! Just because we were Transcon’s second group he acted as if we were stealing his idea or something,” Justin defended himself.
JC looked at him, puzzled. “Justin,” he said, very slowly. “We never signed with Transcon. We were going to, but at the last minute we went with Columbia’s offering. Don’t you remember that?”
Justin shook his head, although he felt like smiling. It had worked, he had done it. Things were going to work just right. “You think I’m crazy?”
“I think that you really believe that what you tell me is the truth,” JC said, sitting down. “And it scares me a bit.”
“That I’m going insane or that I could actually travel in time?” Justin tried to joke. He didn’t want JC calling Chris and Kevin to tell them that Justin had a nervous breakdown.
“Both,” JC admitted. “Sure, it sounds crazy, but even so it’s a little less scary than Brit’s nervous breakdown a couple of years ago. At least you didn’t decide that everything around your life was a reality show. Brit got over that, so you can get over this. But if it’s real and not a crazy dream of yours, well, it’s scary to think you have this much power over our lives, you know?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Justin said, although he knew that JC was right. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it before, but after messing things up so much in the other timelines, he had been terrified of the influence his actions were having on his friends’ lives. “I can’t do it anymore, and even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
* * *
Justin managed to get through the day without any more troubles. After his talk with JC, which ended with Justin promising he would go and get his head examined if more than two days passed and he still was confused over events and the natural order of history, he went back home to find it empty. Kristen had left him a note telling him she was going to her Lamaze class, and that she hoped he would be there for her next session.
Knowing fully well that JC would keep an eye on him, he decided to take his time getting to know his new reality, especially since now it was going to be home. The last twenty timelines or so had gotten him very used to the internet, and he had been always glad that the sites themselves didn’t change much. By timeline number 10 (Affectionately known as ‘the one where he and Britney had made a singing duo, what the fuck was that?’-timeline) he was quite versed on navigating to find the information he needed and he understood why Lance loved internet so much. He wouldn’t go and have an internet diary, like his band mate seemed to have in every single reality he had visited, but he could see its appeal.
While the timeline wasn’t the strangest one he had visited, it did had its weird moments. As JC had told him, *N Sync had never signed on with Transcon, and that had created a lot of changes. Lance had never gotten sick from exhaustion, for example, the delay on NSA had been due to creative changes and not a lawsuit, and the fabled rivalry between the Backstreet Boys and *N Sync didn’t exist at all. Just as JC had said, they had been friends from almost the beginning, and they had *helped* the Backstreet Boys to win their lawsuit against Transcon.
That had led to the creation of Freelance Inc., a company created to help both bands, which had led to both bands signing with Sony Entertainment instead than with Jive.
Nothing in the websites could tell him the story he was most interested in, which was why Kevin and Chris had ended up together. In all the other timelines, that had never happened. Kevin always held a grudge against the other group, and even when Chris had been dating his cousin, Kevin maintained a cold, but polite, distance.
What he could see was that after some point between Black and Blue and Celebrity, they rarely appeared in public not together. There was a picture of them at Justin’s wedding, Kevin quite elegant in a Versace suit, Chris wearing jeans and a jacket, smiling at each other. In the picture, Justin could see the outline of a ring on Chris’s middle finger, and the matching one on Kevin’s.
There was no announcement anywhere, but Justin supposed they had been together since somewhere around then.
Everything else pointed to a very happy reality, and Justin smiled. He had done it, he had managed to fix things, and now he only had to learn to live there.
It was four in the afternoon when the phone rang.
* * *
Justin didn’t remember how he arrived to the hospital. He barely remembered the phone call that had made him go to there. He remembered JC’s terrified account of what had happened, he could remember calling Kristen, asking her to join him at the emergency room. He barely remembered dialing Lance’s phone.
He had no idea how he had ended up in Joey’s arms, waiting for the doctor to tell them Chris’s status. He could only see Kevin, sitting straight as a ruler, away from everyone else in the waiting room.
“How did this happen?” He asked, more to himself than to Joey. He had fixed things, Joey was safe. Chris had never been in danger during the day of his jump, not one single time.
“It was an accident, the other driver ran the red light. Chris never saw it coming,” Joey muttered, softly. It was as if he didn’t want Kevin to hear. Justin didn’t want to hear.
Everyone was gathered there. Joey, JC, Lance, Reichen, Brian, Lieghanne, even the Carter siblings who looked a lot more subdued than what Justin remembered. Brian was silently praying under his breath, and Justin could swear that everyone’s eyes were puffy and red.
Finally, after a wait too long, a doctor came out, asking for Chris’s family. Kevin walked to him, explaining that they were out of town but had been contacted. He also handed the doctor a huge file, which Reichen explained was the legal paperwork needed for Kevin to act as Chris’s partner regarding medical decisions.
Justin couldn’t hear what was being said, but looking at Kevin’s face told him everything he needed to know. Kevin Richardson was, by far, one of the most stoic men Justin had ever known. In all the years, in all the timelines he had known Kevin, Justin hadn’t seen the other man broken. Not even when he had been the one to inform the world that AJ was in rehab, not in the multiple timelines where AJ was the one dead.
Brian was the one who went to his cousin once the doctor left, and Kevin let himself fall on the chair where he had been waiting for the doctor. Brian asked him, very quietly what was going on, and they all fell silent waiting for Kevin to answer.
“The doctor says there’s no hope,” Kevin finally whispered, sounding lost and confused. “Right now the only thing keeping Chris alive is life support.”
* * *
Justin didn’t say a word in the way back to his house. Kristen didn’t bothered him, just hugged him tightly before going to sleep while he went back to his studio.
It was useless. There were no more doors, no more pictures that he could use. He had done everything he could, sacrificed everything he knew, and in the end, it hadn’t made a real difference.
He had still lost his friend.
He looked at the pictures in the album, which were not doors anymore, just prints of moments in the past, wondering why he had kept going. He could’ve stopped in many other realities, where Chris was alive, even if he wasn’t at all happy. He could’ve stopped in any reality where Joey was alive, even if *N Sync wasn’t together.
But he had foolishly gone forward, and in the end, it had cost him Chris.
Kevin had told them that Chris’ had stated that he didn’t wish to be kept on life support, long ago. He would wait for Beverly and Chris’s sisters, but he would go on with his lover’s wishes.
Justin couldn’t believe that when he had finally realized how much Chris’s friendship meant to him, he was going to lose him.
He passed through the pictures, and as he did, he could feel his eyes getting wetter. He wasn’t ashamed of crying, not when everything he had done had been useless. He passed the picture of their debut, the last one he had used, the last one of them all together, and suppressed the irrational desire to tear it to pieces.
It was one of the memories he had of Chris, he couldn’t just break it.
After that picture, there were a lot of photos of the time before they became *N Sync, of the rehearsals, the times at Justin’s mom’s house. But none of them would bring Chris back, since there wasn’t a single one with all of them five together. There were many of them with Jason, but by the time Lance had joined the group, for some reason or another they hadn’t had any chance to take a group picture until the first photo shot, a week after the Pleasure Island concert.
He was about to close the album when a small ripple in one of the first pictures caught his attention. At first, he believed that it was just his imagination, his mind wishing to believe there was still one last chance to save Chris, but even so, not willing to let go that hope, he looked at it more carefully.
It was a very old picture, and Justin had almost forgotten about it. It had been taken at Universal studios, where he and JC had gone to meet up with Joey for JC’s birthday in 1994. They still hadn’t met Chris back then, and had no idea that they would become a group.
In the foreground, JC, Joey and himself where hugging, and Justin couldn’t stop the smile in his face when he thought about the fact that JC and Joey were so cool back then that they would hang with an over-eager 13 year old who listened to his mom too much.
But the important part was in the background, and Justin had to go and hunt for a magnifying glass to see that he wasn’t mistaken. They had taken the picture right outside the 50’s dinner, and in the background, Justin could make out the slim figure of the lead singer of the Hi-tones: Chris. There weren’t many people listening to them in the picture, maybe less than a dozen. So one of the families was pretty clear in the picture, and Justin swore under his breath, amazed at the coincidence.
He still remembered how Lance looked like back then, before the bleached hair, before the fame. And there he was, watching Chris sing, between Jim and Diane.
Fate had handed him one last chance.
Praying that this time he wouldn’t mess up, promising that he would give everything he had just for the chance to make things right, he concentrated on the picture until the ripples came and took him into one last jump.
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