[October 22, 1995]

Ten minutes until show time. Justin, having little room backstage to let off extra energy, was content to just bounce from one foot to the other, wriggling his wrists as he went. Chris turned two shades of green. Joey surreptitiously tried to peek out at the audience (“Babe Watch,” he told Justin), only to once again be pulled back by Lynn. Chris turned three shades of green. Lance sat back and sipped on a juice box-part of the refreshments Lynn and his mom had brought for them all-and watched the others. Chris turned four shades of green. JC was off in a corner, Walkman on, mouthing out the lyrics one last time. Chris turned five shades of green.

Finally, the lights dimmed and they could all hear the crowd start cheering. All the color drained from Chris’ face. As Lynn and Diane ushered them forward, Justin turned to his older bandmate.

“You okay?”

Chris gave Justin a shaky, but sincere, smile. “Let’s go show them what we’re made of.”

[October 22, 1996]

The rain pounded against the window, soaking the towels placed on the sills inside to prevent leaking. It was a miserable day for most. But the five young men crowded together in the grimy hotel room couldn’t have been happier. They had the rest of the day off, thanks to this rain.

So of course, now that they had time to spare, no one knew what to do. They all sprawled out as best as they could. Justin had flung himself across one of the single beds, staring at the ceiling. One of his arms flopped down on JC, who was curled up on his stomach next to him. In his other hand he held a stack of photos over his head, flipping through them.

Lance leaned up against the headboard, neck hanging back, Adam’s apple bobbing with every breath he took. Joey sprawled out on his stomach, feet by Lance’s head, and rested his chin on his hands.

Chris had pulled the one heinous plaid upholstered chair towards the bed, and sat with his feet up by Joey’s face.

“Hey you guys! Look!” Justin had tossed the rest of the pictures aside and was sitting up now, staring at one of them.

Having nothing better to do, everyone got up and crowded around him.

The date, printed in orange across the bottom, read ’95 10 22. Lance’s mom had snapped the photo sometime after they had arrived at Pleasure Island, but before they hit the stage.

“Dude,” Justin turned to Chris. “You look like you were gonna hurl.”

“Do not,” Chris scowled.

“Yeah you do, man,” JC said.

“Oh yeah? Well, I was just pretending to be nervous so that all you young ‘uns wouldn’t feel bad if you were nervous too.”

Everyone turned to Chris, eyebrows raised.

Lance said what everyone was thinking. “Sure, Chris. Sure.”

[October 22, 1997]

There was something about European girls that was just different. Justin noticed it in the way that they would climb on top of one another to get closer to the stage. He saw it in their lack of personal space as they crammed together at the barrier. Of course, he didn’t really have any experience with American girls as his audience, but he remembered from his own concert-going experiences.

Sometimes these girls scared him. He’d been scratched more than once as the guys had maneuvered their way through hotel lobbies, airports, and walkways. He watched as a girl, barely older than twelve, threw herself over the metal barrier, only to be caught by a security guard and carried away, crying.

Farther out, Justin could see the signs being held above the sea of faces. Most of them were written in German, and a few were in rather sloppy English. There were a couple that read “Ich liebe * NSYNC!” But there was one in particular that caught his eye. It was way in the back and far off to the side, yet he could still see it clearly. “Danke. Thank you *NSYNC for sharing your music. Much love.”

[October 22, 1998]

“Does anybody know where we are?” Justin walked towards the back of the bus, where Chris, Joey, JC, and Lance were taking turns playing with the Nintendo.

“Umm, I’d say we’re somewhere between…where were we last night?” Chris asked.

“Virginia Beach,” Joey supplied.

“Oh yeah. And where are we going?”

“Somewhere in Pennsylvania. Starts with an ‘s’, I think,” JC said, never tearing his eyes away from the screen.

Chris turned back to Justin. “We’re somewhere between Virginia Beach and S-ville, Pennsylvania.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks Chris. That helped me a lot.”

“No problem. That’s what I’m here for.”

JC snorted.

“Aww, c’mon. You guys know you love me.”

“Yeah, whatever man.”

[October 22, 1999]

For the first time all day, all five of them were together. They sat around the conference table in their hotel eating lunch. And in the first time for as long as they could remember, no one had anything to say.

It would probably be the last time that they had a quiet moment together for the rest of the day. Earlier in the morning, Justin had been off promoting his foundation at a conference. And as soon as they were all finished eating, they’d be whisked away to meet Gloria Estefan for the Concert of the Century rehearsals.

Unable to take the silence (except for the sounds of pizza chewing, salad munching, and soda slurping), JC spoke up, “C’mon guys; we can not let Lou and all of his shit bring us down.”

By acknowledging the source of all of their frustrations and awkwardness, the somber mood was broken.

“Does anyone know what today is?” JC continued.

“Um… I think it’s the 22nd, right Lance?” Joey looked to his bandmate, who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, but do you know what’s special about today?”

“No C, what’s special?” Chris asked, expecting something along the lines of ‘it’s national chicken patty eating day!’

“Four years. It’s been four years since we first recorded that demo at Pleasure Island. It’s like our anniversary or something.”

Again, the silence returned.

Justin finally understood what JC was getting at. “C’s right guys. Sitting around all depressed is letting Lou win. No matter what, we know we’re better than him and he can never take away the bond that we have. And wow, that sounded tacky. But, whatever.”

The silence returned, but only for a moment. Joey’s humming started out soft, but grew louder and louder before Chris caught along and joined in. The others, recognizing …and when we are apart, I feel it too…, joined in. And their humming soon turned to laughter.

[October 22, 2000]

Joey stood off to the side of the stage, waiting for his mic to be fixed. It was rare that he would get a moment to himself to just watch the other guys interact. And, contrary to what most people thought, he was a lot more introspective than he looked.

He saw Chris steal Justin’s bandana, and he watched the inevitable chase that ensued. Some of the girls in the audience screamed. Lance stood by and shook his head. JC giggled.

Justin came to a halt mid-step when Chris stood by the edge of the stage and threatened to throw the beloved bedazzled bandana into the small crowd that was watching the sound check.

“Chris. Step away from the stage,” Justin feigned desperation. Or at least Joey hoped he was pretending.

Chris slowly backed up behind JC, never taking his eyes off Justin.

Nobody moved for a couple of seconds. Even the girls stopped fidgeting.

Suddenly, Chris lunged at the back of JC’s head. JC flailed his arms in a futile effort to defend himself.

When the struggle ended, Chris clearly the victor, JC wore Justin’s bandana.

Joey smiled. And the girls screamed again.

[October 22, 2001]

“Even when we finally get some time off, we still can’t stay away from each other.”

“Well hello to you too, C,” Lance’s chuckle came through JC’s cellphone.

“Hey Lance. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just wondering if you know where J is?”

JC tried to remember. Joey and Lance were off promoting their movie. He and Chris were just chilling in Orlando. And Justin was…

“Oh! He’s in LA with Brit.”

“Ooooh.” Lance’s voice rumbled in JC’s ear. “That explains why he isn’t answering his cell. Well then. Guess I’ll just have to try back later, won’t I?”

“I’d say that’s your best bet,” JC sniggered. “You wouldn’t want to…y’know, interrupt them or anything.”

Lance laughed. “All right. Thanks, C.”

“No prob.”

Lance went to hang up, but JC spoke once more. “Hey Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Joe I said hi.”

Lance smiled, though JC couldn’t see it. “Will do. Tell Chris I said the same. And Justin, if you happen to catch a hold of him.”

“Okey doke. See ya soon.”

[October 22, 2002]

Two weeks. The words were a constant chant in Justin’s head. Two weeks. In two weeks, he’d no longer be Justin Timberlake, the *NSYNC heartthrob. He didn’t know whether he wanted to jump for joy, or cry, or both.

He wasn’t lying when he said it was strange not having those four other guys around. It was the kind of strange that woke up him up at night, cold and sweating, with a strange feeling in his stomach.

But it wasn’t like they were gone or anything. No. He’d promised himself from day one that he would never forget that they were still a group. That they were still friends, first and foremost.

He may not tell the whole truth when asked about Britney or Janet, or anybody else. But he would always tell the truth about them.

No, Justin thought. This will not break us.

[October 22, 2003]

They were following him. Again. As if the fact that Justin Timberlake was walking around New York with his girlfriend Cameron Diaz wasn’t enough to draw onlooker’s attention, the paparazzi had to follow them as well.

Justin hunched his shoulders, hoping to block their view. Sensing his anger, Cameron slipped her arm through his. A dozen flashbulbs went off.

That was it.

Slipping his other arm out of his pocket, Justin raised his hand high enough for all of the cameras to see. And he flipped them the bird.

He tried to remember a time when he would have been able to enjoy a walk through the city with his girlfriend. The last time that would’ve been possible was when he took that trip with the guys, before they got big. But he was so young back then. Cameron wouldn’t have wanted to date him. He’d still been jailbait at the time.

But he remembered how much fun they had had. They had worn big, poofy jackets and pretended to walk around the city like they owned it. Like they were superstars. Like they were on top of the world. Somehow, Justin just didn’t feel like that without those four other guys, young and eager, with him.

[October 22, 2004]

Lance sighed. It was just one of those days. One of those days when he wished he didn’t have to be Lance Bass. One of those days where he wished he could be Lance Bass from *NSYNC.

Not having to answer the questions and smile really big. Instead, Chris would be there to make some snarky comment. And Justin would give his signature grin, making up for any less than stellar smiles his bandmates might give.

Not having to ride around with his latest eye candy. Instead, Joey would be there to partake in a real, engaging conversation.

Not having to curl up uncomfortably against the arm of a couch. Instead, JC would be there, ready to cuddle or just lend you his shoulder.

There were days when Lance enjoyed not having any of that. When he liked to just go out and do his own thing. But not today. Today was just one of those days.

[October 22, 2005]

Justin was just finishing up with his tie when the phone rang. Dammit! His hands slipped, and the tie came undone.

“’Lo?”

“Hey J. Is this a bad time?”

Recognizing the voice on the other end, Justin’s frustration gave way to nervousness. He did not get calls from him unless something serious was up.

“No, C. You’re fine. I don’t have to leave for another, uh,” he checked his watch. “Twenty minutes.”

“Okay, cool. Listen, man. I just wanted to say, y’know, congrats and all.”

“Oh.” Thank goodness that’s all. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Really, it’s a great honor. I mean, they chose you as a representative of your home town. That’s really big. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

And then there was the awkward silence. Justin was about to politely excuse himself, but JC spoke again.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Umm…the 22nd? Saturday?”

“Ten years, J.”

“Huh?”

“It’s been ten years.”

“What has?”

“Ten years ago today, we filmed that demo at Pleasure Island. Remember that, J?”

He hadn’t. But now that JC brought it up. Ten years. Wow.

“I didn’t even realize. I just. Wow.”

“Yeah.”

And then the silence was back.

“Well, I don’t want to make you late or anything. Just wanted to say congrats,” JC’s chipper tone returned.

Snapped out of the mood that JC’s announcement had put him in, Justin responded. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“Talk to ya later, I guess.”

“Sure thing.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”