Date: Sun, 03 Sep 2000 02:28:48 EDT
From: Dara Lynn <daralynn_writings@hotmail.com>
laughter_and_tears@hotmail.com
Subject: Boy Bands/ No Painless Way, chapter 4
Hey all! Here's chapter 4, you can all be happy now. :)
I am stunned every day by the feedback I've been getting for my little
series, and I want to thank all who wrote to me so much, including Sophie,
Dennis, Wen, Casey, Joanne, Red and Aimee. Big thanks also to David for
archiving the ramblings of my crowded head.
After finishing this, you might wish to try: "Nsync: Lance n JC", "A Tale of
Two Boybands", "A Love Like This", "A Little Bit of Love", "Remembering
Petticoat Lane", "Tears In Your Eyes", "Superman Can't Fly" and the many
other incredible stories here at the Nifty boyband section.
DISCLAIMER: I don't know or mean to imply anything about 'Nsync,
Louis Pearlman or BSB. This is fiction.
WARNING: Some dark content and disturbing imagery.
~NO PAINLESS WAY, CHAPTER FOUR~
"I still wish on the evening star and I suppose I always will
Every child loses something a whole life can't fulfill..."
- "Lose Your Way", Sophie B. Hawkins
Joshua Chasez sat motionless on a sofa in the Harless living room, his
thoughts miles away. Lance was next to him, answering Detective Larsen's
questions, few of which J.C. heard. He could only stare blankly at the torn
bracelet, now in a tagged plastic bag in the officer's hand.
"Are you sure there was no warning? Threats against him, stalkers?"
Lance's voice was calm, the only thing about him that was. "I don't
think so. We all know not to keep stuff like that secret."
"Is Justin responsible, generally?"
"More responsible than most seventeen-year-olds I've known."
Detective Larsen nodded. "Any chance he ran away, or simply didn't
tell you he was going somewhere?"
"No." Lance's face grew angry. "Sir, with all due respect, his
bracelet was *torn* off, either by Justin or by someone else. If it *was*
Justin, he must've done it to let us know something's wrong. He was
kidnapped. That's it, isn't it?"
The detective looked unflinchingly into the boy's bright eyes. "That's
what it looks like, son."
The bright eyes overflowed. J.C. shuddered.
"If it's any comfort, boys, I haven't lost a kidnapping victim yet.
Most of the time we *do* get them back."
He looked at J.C. "You're his best friend?"
J.C. didn't answer. In his mind he played back the soft sound of
Justin breathing as he'd watched his angel sleep the night before. He could
hear Lynn crying in the kitchen, where Chris, Joey and another detective
futilely attempted to comfort her. Mostly, though, J.C. heard those four
horrifying words, over and over.
//Most of the time. *Most* of the time. *Most* of the-//
"Son? I'm sorry, but I need your input here. Can you think of anyone
who might've taken Justin?"
J.C. shook his head wordlessly.
Det. Larsen glanced toward the kitchen, and then back to them. "I
understand that the parents are divorced. I'm sure Detective Murray would
ask Mrs. Harless but...do you think there's any chance that Justin's father
might have-"
"No." Josh finally spoke. "No way."
The detective smiled kindly. "Okay. I didn't think so."
He stood, as did Lance. "Thank you for your cooperation, boys. Try
not to worry. We'll find Justin, okay?"
Lance managed a smile, and shook Larsen's hand.
The detective conferred privately with his partner near the front door.
"Any chance this is a joke, or a publicity stunt, you think?"
Detective Murray shook his head. "No. The boy doesn't seem the type,
and the friends, and the mother...no. Kidnapping, I'm sure of it."
Larsen nodded. "A fan maybe."
Murray was skeptical. "Not likely, though possible. This is *not* the
work of a young girl. The motive is probably notoriety or, more likely,
ransom."
"Whoever it was sure knew what the hell they were doing. A healthy,
strong teenage boy, abducted in broad daylight a few blocks from his house.
God...okay, you stay here. I'm gonna check out the scene again, and go back
to the station to start pulling files."
"Agreed. We gonna keep this from the press?"
"At all costs. If this gets out, legions of little girls - my own
included - will try to join the search effort and get themselves hurt. Make
sure Mrs. Harless and the boys understand this. Whatever excuses have to be
made, keep the lid on this."
"Of course. Tom...if we don't find this one..."
Larsen looked at J.C., a broken shell of the smiling young man who
adorned his daughters' walls. "Then we do, Jack. We *do*."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"Okay. Later, Doc." Nick hung up the phone and promptly fell onto the
couch.
"Hey! Watch the head!"
"Sorry, Bone, didn't see ya there."
"So how's the shrink doin'? Anyone special in her life?"
Nick rolled his crystal-blue eyes. "She's married. And for the last
time, A.J., you are *not* gonna date my psychiatrist!"
Brian observed all this silently from the living room's other couch.
All the Backstreet Boys were there, in the house that Brian, Kevin and Howie
shared; Howie and Kevin were in the kitchen having a spontaneous
song-writing session.
//Typical. Whenever we get a day off we spend it together. That's
either sweet or pathetic...I'm not sure which.//
A.J. turned on the radio and began flipping through the stations.
After a moment, he grinned and cranked up the volume. "If You Want It To Be
Good Girl (Get Yourself A Bad Boy)" blasted through the large house. A.J.
danced around the room, Brian shook his head and Nick groaned and tried to
hide behind a couch cushion.
"Hey," said Brian, "it's the
song-where-little-Nicky-works-the-audience!" He said the last seven words
as if they were one.
A.J. cracked up. "Rok, you remember the first time you called it
that?"
"Uh-huh. You added, 'And makes the ladies cream their jeans', and Kev
went off on you for saying that around Nick."
The young blond looked indignant. "I was fifteen! I knew the facts of
life! Though ya wouldn't have known it from the way Kevin acted. And still
acts."
"He's gotten a lot better," reminded Brian.
"Yeah." Nick smirked. "Especially now that I can go to the bathroom
alone again. Bone, will you *please* kill the music?"
"Hell no." A.J. grabbed Nick's head and pinched his cheek. "Bad boy -
yeah, right!"
Nick pulled away and stuck his tongue out. "Well, I would be, if you
guys would let me!"
A.J. looked at him with mock sadness. "Hey, we take this here
long-term baby-sitting job very seriously. And maybe I just don't want you
to end up like me, alone in an uncaring world, finally turning to a gang for
support..."
Nick regarded his friend patiently. "A.J., you were never in a gang."
"Gang, sandbox playgroup, whatever! And cults! Don't forget about
cults!"
"Which reminds me..." Nick turned to Brian, his face nervous. "Did
J.C. call back yet?"
"No. But I'm sure Justin's okay, Nicky."
The boy shivered. "I hope so. But I can't shake that dream."
A.J. spoke up. "Did you tell Dr. Sadler about it?"
"Yeah. She said it's probably because...ya know...Lou threatened him.
She says that, without meaning to, I was at some point mad at Justin because
he didn't have to go through what I did, and that the dream came from guilt
about that."
Nick frowned. "Maybe you should call J.C. again, Frick."
"I will." Brian picked up the phone and dialed J.C.'s cellular.
"Josh? It's Brian. Is Justin-"
Nick and A.J. were alarmed to see a look of horror stretch over Brian's
face. "Bri? What? What is it?!"
"Oh my God."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Yes, Mom. Yes, I'll be careful. Yeah, me too. I love you too.
Bye."
Chris hung up the phone and sank onto the couch next to Joey. Joey
looked at him sadly, his normally-playful voice low.
"I can't believe this. Who would do this?" Joey's eyes began to fill,
despite his attempt to keep calm.
Chris's voice broke as he answered. "I d- I don't know, Joe. But
whoever it is, when I get ahold of 'em they're gonna regret the day they
were conceived!"
Joey roughly wiped his wet eyes. "Why? Why would anyone do this to
Justin?"
"Like the officer said, probably for publicity or ransom." There was
another possibility, one Chris wouldn't allow himself to consider.
"Do you think he's...dead?"
"NO!" Seeing Joey jump at the exclamation, Chris softened his voice.
"No. What's the point in killing someone you can get ransom for anyway?"
Joey looked at his friend, his face a mask of torment. "Why do people
hurt eachother, Chris? You're the psych major...can you answer me that?"
Chris sighed, and leaned his head forward into his hands. "Joe, out of
everything I learned about human behavior and reasoning in college, only one
real truth applies here. And that's that some people are fucking crazy."
In the kitchen, Lynn was just now beginning to calm down. J.C. and
Lance looked at her helplessly; both were too scared to promise her a happy
ending. In the hours since Justin had disappeared, the group had thrown
empty words of encouragement at eahcother, but none found comfort. Lynn sat
sobbing; she looked about ten years older. Paul, Justin's step-father, was
on his way back. Justin's dad and step-mom were coming too. A family
reunion of sorts, with a big, gaping hole in it.
Lance's mom was also on her way to Orlando; partly to help Lynn get
through this, partly because she had always been a bit overprotective of
Lance, and feared for him. All the parents had been notified, and all save
Diane Bass had been disuaded from coming. In her own quiet way, she was as
stubborn as Lance.
And still more support - Jive was sending the 'Nsync bodyguards. The
executive Lance had talked to was extremely upset, and so didn't say what he
was thinking - that the bodyguards should have been along in the first
place. Lance had talked to Lonnie too, briefly. The enormous man, who
wouldn't blink if the sky fell upon him, had been crying so hard on the
phone that he could scarcely be understood. That had set Lance off, hearing
the unflinching security guard break down. Lance, not too accustomed to
tears either, sobbed hysterically while J.C. held him. Josh had cried again
too, thinking of the night before, when he had held another blond in his
arms.
Lance was calmer now, and had been trying to keep the others together.
Joey wept like a little boy, asking questions no one had the answers to.
Chris's eyes were dry, but one look at his face told them all how much he
was weeping inside. And J.C....
J.C. was painfully numb, the other half of his soul taken from him.
His tears had frightened the other guys, none of whom had ever seen him cry.
Actually, Justin never had either. Grief had always been a private thing
for Joshua Chasez, but now it didn't matter. With love gone, nothing
mattered.
//Stop it! We'll get him back!//
Yeah, maybe. The crime scene had been thoroughly searched, the
bracelet examined. In the nearly eight hours since tragedy had struck, the
wire-tapped phones had rung many times, but there was no demand for ransom,
no threats. Nothing. Nothing but a house of mourning, that once had been
filled with laughter.
Detective Larsen had returned, and he had many questions, but no
answers. Background checks were being done on Justin's friends, his family,
and everyone the group worked with.
One possibility terrified J.C. beyond all others. Fortunately, he had
some friends working on that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The secretary, a pretty young woman with a friendly smile, looked up at
the two Backstreet Boys. "Mr. Pearlman will see you now, gentlemen."
"Thank you."
Kevin and Nick slowly moved down the nearly-deserted hallway. When
they reached the office door, Kevin stopped, and looked worriedly at his
youngest brother.
"Nicky, *please* don't do this to yourself. Wait out here, okay?"
The boy was ghostly white and trembling a little, but his eyes were
defiant. "No, Kev. I can handle it."
"Nicky, you shouldn't have to. You *don't*."
"Yes I do. My presence here threatens him, reminds him what we have on
him. He's more likely to talk if he has to face me."
Kevin sighed, and gently embraced the youngest Backstreet Boy. "I
don't want *you* to have to face *him*."
"Please, Kev? I *have* to do this, for my sake as well as Justin's."
Kevin couldn't resist the pleading blue eyes. With a deep breath, he
opened the door. The two walked in, shutting the door behind them. Louis
Pearlman, seated at his desk behind a brandy decanter and a few bottles of
pills, looked up fearfully. At the sight of Nick, whom he had not expected,
his jaw dropped open and his eyes widened.
The blond looked at the man who had sexually abused him for almost his
entire adolescent life, and his breathing became somewhat erratic. A small
whimper escaped him, and Kevin squeezed his hand.
Lou looked at them, too shocked for words.
Kevin spoke as softly as he could to the man he would want to kill
brutally until his dying day. "Did you take Justin?"
Lou frowned with honest confusion. "What?"
"Justin was kidnapped. Don't lie. Did you take him?"
"Kidnapped?! Oh dear God..."
"Did you do it?" Kevin's voice was low and menacing.
"No, I didn't. Why would I?"
Nick stepped forward, yanking his hand free. Blue eyes alight with the
horror of memory gazed unflinchingly at the source of his nightmares. Lou
couldn't meet the boy's eyes, but, out of fear or perhaps even shame, he
didn't look away. The child he had wronged beyond words would speak, and he
would listen.
Nick's soft voice trembled only slightly. "Do you *really* want me to
answer that?"
Lou said nothing.
"I didn't think so. I ask for the last time, and if you lie I swear
you'll pay for it. Did you take Justin?"
The man spoke in a scared whisper. "No, I swear I didn't."
Kevin took Nick's arm. "C'mon, Nick. Let's go."
Nick stood frozen in his place, looking still at his group's former
manager. "No. First I want to know why."
"Shit, Nicky, don't do this to yourself. Don't reopen old wounds."
"Some never healed, Kev. Maybe they never will."
Nick stared at Lou, who still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Tell me. Tell
me why you used me like that for five years. Why you touched me all those
times, why you never stopped when I begged you to leave me alone. LOOK AT
ME DAMMIT!"
The older man jumped at the shouted words and, shaking, looked up into
the boy's face. Nick was openly crying now, but his voice was clear.
Kevin's eyes, glowing with concern and fresh pain, watched this, powerless.
Nick continued. "Do you have any *idea* what you put me through?
Hearing all those girls scream 'Nick, you're so beautiful' at me, and then
hearing the same words from you? How terrified I became of the phrase 'I
love you'? Fans said it to me when I hugged them, my parents and the guys
told it to me all the time. And then you'd say it, while you had your
disgusting hands all over me, and pretty soon the words had *no meaning*! I
doubted and worried and frightened everyone who cares about me! I ran from
one of my closest friends when he honestly said he loved me, because of what
you'd taught me to associate that with! You took the innocence away from
love - you couldn't even leave me that! Now, you don't have to answer for
what you did to the police, my parents or the press. All you have to do is
sit there like the pile of shit you are and tell me WHY!"
Kevin reached for Nick, but was pushed away. The sobbing young man
waited for the answer.
Lou stared dumbly at the boy. He was suddenly reminded of the little
teenager who always laughed, who was caring and trusting to a point that Lou
was enamored. He rationalized, did all he could to ignore the tears and
pleas as he moved his large hands all over the pretty little body. The
yelps of pain from the teen as cold fingers entered him. The brightness in
his blue eyes growing dimmer.
Nick shook his head. "Fine. I don't need your excuses. I wasn't a
tease, or a slut, and I never wanted you to do what you did. You took
something from me I'll never get back, but I'm not giving you any more! It
was NOT MY FAULT! I blamed myself and I'm NOT gonna do that anymore!
"You know what? Maybe the nightmares will never stop completely.
Maybe I'll always feel dirty deep down. But I'll bet you don't sleep so
well either, and those"- Nick gestured to the decanter and pill bottles-
"won't ever wash your hands clean. So go ahead! Try to forget! Use
whatever you want to dull *your* pain. But I'm gonna live with mine! I'm
gonna deal with it, and live!"
Nick spun around and left the room. Kevin followed him down the hall,
into the elevator, and outside. Nick held himself together until he got in
the car, where he began sobbing so hard that Kevin thought he would be sick.
He held Nick tightly, his hands gently rubbing Nick's back, his face
pressed into the silky blond hair, damp from his own tears now.
This kind of breakdown was exactly what Kevin had hoped to avoid, but
it occurred to him that perhaps Nick had needed this. Kevin swelled with
pride for his little brother, how bravely he had stood before the monster,
and found that it was just a frightened old man.
//Maybe we're no closer to Justin,// Kevin thought, //but a different
kind of victory was achieved today.//
~to be continued~
Feedback (no flames please) welcome to me, DaraLynn, at
DaraLynn_writings@hotmail.com