Date: Sun, 10 Oct 1999 20:05:23 GMT
From: Scotty T <thepoetboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Lance-In-Shining-Armour-13-15

Sheesh -- this section was hard to get out.  Headed home for
the holidays and my pop's computer somehow deleted all
paragraphing and all quotation marks and apostrophes.  It
was a mess.  So if I haven't worked all of those problems
out, I apologize.  I got what I could before I threw this
lap-top at the wall in frustration. :)

These characters aren't even intended to be accurate
portrayals of the boys of NSYNC -- or of me for that matter.
(Several of you have noticed the parallels between David
and I.)

This story also marks a huge departure from David being me.
You'll understand once you've read this.  The boy is getting
to do all the stuff I wanna do (and I'm getting jealous. :)

Don't read this if you're not supposed to.  There's a bit
of swearing.  More Canadian content than in previous
installments.

Yada yada yada.

Thanks to everyone who has emailed me!  Y'all can email me
at thepoetboy@hotmail.com -- I'd love to hear from you!

Anyway, story time.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!

-- Scotty T

*********************************************


Part 13 (What Luck)

I was a bit disappointed that it wasn't a limo -- it was just
Doug driving some rental car.  A nice car, but I felt like I
was going to a job interview on a tricycle with a little
wicker basket on the front.

James was sitting beside me in the back seat, staring out the
window.  I watched him watching the world.  He wasn't much
younger than I was, but he seemed so much more innocent.   His
view of things didn't seem as jaded.  I wouldn't be able to
handle celebrity with that kind of grace.

Not that I was anywhere near fogey status -- no-one with as
much Muppet memorabilia as I had could truly be called
grown-up.  And with any luck, "mature" would never be a word
that would fully apply to me.

And now that I knew him better, and had gotten some great
close-up looks, I decided that his eyebrows were natural.
Somehow, I wasn't jealous.

How could I be, after all he'd done for me?  Or all that he'd
done to me.

On the evil side, if it weren't for him, I'd have been
forgotten already.  I wouldn't have been forced to meet the
press and have my life flipped over.  Saving someone would
have gotten me in the papers for two days at the most.

And that was just for Ontario.  When NSYNC got added to the
mix, attention shot up.  I was suffering through the
side-effects of having James in my life.  Especially when they
changed their vacation plans just to be with me.

Doug called back from the front of the car, "Mostly teen
magazines today, David. Smile, keep it light.  They'll ask
some weird questions -- you're cute so they'll want a lot of
pictures."

Fat-boy thought I was cute.  I shuddered and James smirked at
me.

If there was no James, there would be no Friday from hell.  If
MuchMusic could be called hell.  I had my fingers crossed for
Rick-the-Temp.  He was cute (but not as cute as the boy beside
me.)  I wasn't fond of Rick-the Temp's bleach blond look.

"It'll play better if you stay straight," Doug continued.
"Girls don't want posters of gay guys."

I could swear he glared at James in the rear view mirror when
he said that.  I started to wonder how much NSYNC's management
knew already, and where they got their information.

I pulled out my new cell phone and the pile of cards from the
flowers. Some of the cards had numbers and I was itching to
track down the source of the trust fund money.

"What're you doing?" James whispered to me, low enough so that
Doug couldn't hear.  Doug was staring into the rear view
mirror, trying to find out what was going on.

"I'm calling the numbers.  If someone sent a huge chunk of
money my way, maybe they sent some roses too."

"Give me half of them."

James took the bottom half of the pile and took out his own
cell phone.  We started calling as Doug inched through morning
traffic.  We were going to be late for the press conference --
apparently Doug didn't realize that Canadian cities jam up on
workdays just like the Yankee ones.

"Hi," I said when the first person picked up.  The Lawrence
family of Mississauga.  "This is David Sheer, I'm calling to
thank you for the gift your family sent to me in the
hospital."  I paused, wondering how one goes about asking if
the Lawrence family gave him a notable chunk of their savings.

"Oh, my God!" came the voice in reply.  She sounded like she
was having some form of pre-pubescent orgasm.  "You know
Justin, right?"  She squealed into my ear.

"Yeah, sorry, I can't talk now.  I just wanted to say thanks.
Pass it on to the family, okay?  Bye!"

I hung up on her.  James had been drawn into conversation with
someone, but he looked at me long enough to shake his head.

Next number.

***

This press conference was better organized.  Everyone had
seats and there was a special area for cameras and
photographers.  There was a podium with several mikes.  Doug,
James and I were backstage while someone who worked there
listed off something I wasn't listening to.  I'd called about
6 people in the car, James had called 3.  He had an aversion
to hanging up on people mid sentence, even though he
introduced himself as Mike.  Even under an assumed name he
just couldn't manage rudeness.

I wondered how he'd survived in the spotlight and whether it
was possible for him to be too cute for words.

Then Doug took over.  "It would be great if you'd make a show,
Lance.  The teen mags would love that -- it would make a great
shot."  I could hear a but the size of Uranus coming into his
voice.  "But we decided against it.  We don't want you and
David seen together too much.  It would create the wrong
image, especially if they somehow found out about David's
lifestyle."

James' eyes were loading the cannons for another war, but I
sent a cease-fire message with my eyebrows.  My eyebrows sure
do talk a lot when I give them the chance.  Some nights they
just won't shut up.

Doug walked out to the podium to give a basic introduction.
James pulled me further backstage, away from the people.
"Don't worry.  This one will be a breeze.  You already had
your rough one."  He smiled and cocked an eyebrow (probably
just because he'd figured out how much I loved it when he did
that.)  He gave me a quick kiss and then pushed me towards the
audience.

It distracted me a bit -- my doubts about the plan returned
with full force -- and I was on stage before I even noticed
that Doug was still talking.

Doug didn't notice me, but the camera men did.  The flashes
started.

I stared out over them, not hearing what Doug was saying.
They were calm, it wasn't the frantic mess that I'd seen
before.  I repressed my panic and did a smile and wave.

After all, if Dougy thought I was cute today, I must be
gorgeous.

Doug was summing things up.  "Well, that s all I have to say,
now let's get David out here.  Everyone?  Meet David Sheer."

He held out his hand towards where I was supposed to enter.  I
happened to be on the other side of him, watching his face and
counting in my head to see how long he'd wait before he knew
something was wrong.

There were some laughs from the audience.  I smiled and waved
again.

Doug walked towards my entrance to see where I was, and I took
the opportunity to take over the podium.  Doug turned around
and scowled at me.

"Questions, anyone?" I asked.

Hands shot up.  I put on my Lance face and started pointing.

"How are you feeling?"

"Great thanks.  I'll be back to my one sit-up a day in no
time."

"Has your memory of the attack returned?"

"Nope.  Still nothing.  I can't say that I mind."

"How do you feel about all of money?"

"I'm very thankful.  I've got several charities in mind
already."

"What's your favourite NSYNC song?"

I chuckled.  "I knew this was coming.  'Sailing.'  Hands
down."

"Do you have any words of advice for the world?"

Teen magazine questions -- the core of serious journalism.
"I'll just say something I heard once when I was flipping
through the TV and found a crappy 'Wonder Years' re-run.
'It's not the size of the man in the fight, but the size of
the fight in the man.'  Not quite politically correct, but it
works for me."

"Boxers or briefs?"

"Depends on my mood."  This was turning into a big waste of
time.  I kept smiling, picturing James standing there in the
shower, panicking.  I was struggling not to laugh.

"When will you be returning to class?"

"Wednesday.  That'll give me a chance to catch up on my
readings."  This answer was an outright lie.

I was still waiting for a zinger, but with each question that
seemed less and less likely.  I was losing respect for the
teenage girl population.  But then again, remembering The New
Kids On The Block, I'd never had respect for the teenage girl
population.

"Is it true that Lance was hospitalized this past week as
well?"

"Lance is in perfect health.  He visited me in the hospital
daily, so that's just a rumour."  He also slept in my bed.
That would sell a few magazines.

"Is it true that Lance and Justin are your adopted brothers?"

Nurse Leslie got a measure of revenge.

The questions went on for another 15 minutes, almost entirely
about NSYNC.  I dispelled as many rumours as I could, and even
a few truths that shouldn't have been known.  For the most
part, these people knew nothing about me.  And by the time we
were done, they didn't know anything more.

I was confident they'd forget me in a few hours, all I was to
them was a source of NSYNC gossip.  None of it had really been
about me, I was just a gateway to a boy band.

Doug came back on stage and called an end to the conference.
I thanked everyone for coming and for their support and love,
and then walked offstage to be forgotten.

***

James met me just offstage with a short platonic hug.  We
ended the hug quickly and then looked around like 14 year olds
shoplifting in a porn store.  No-one had seen us.

Someone brought us breakfast in a room in the back, but for
the most part we were left to ourselves.  I managed to make
another ten calls before Doug showed up to drag us back to the
car.  I was getting good at the calls -- I could do each one
in under a minute.

"Never make a fool out of me like that again," he yelled as he
slammed my door.

He stormed around the car to his own door.  James looked at me
and we cracked up, but we managed to have straight faces by
the time he got his own door unlocked.

"Last thing I need is to be driving around some little piece
of shit," he muttered to the steering wheel as he started the
car.

James leaned over to me and whispered into my ear,  I'll get
him fired by dinner.  He picked up his cell phone, hit
something on his speed-dial and slipped into his Lance voice.
He was whispering into the phone.

I made some more calls of my own.  A few people had given some
money.  I didn't press for exact values, I just said I wanted
to especially thank them.  Last thing I wanted was to guilt
them into giving me more money I didn't need.  I'd have
offered to give it back to them if that wasn't way past the
limits to my rudeness.

And my limits were stretched beyond belief just by asking the
question.

James leaned over again.   They're flying someone else out.
She should be here in the morning.

"I hate doing that to him, but six months is a long time."

James sighed.  "Not six months.  He'd have been gone in a week
anyway.  The rest of the time is just in case something else
came up that required media relations between you and the
group.  Management will help with the rush, but when things
cool down you're pretty much on your own."

My celebrity status was crumbling -- I couldn't have been more
pleased.

"They're paying me to be on my own?"

"Mostly to make up for the extra attention the group has
brought you."

"If it's only for a week, then I'll suffer with Doug.  I can
torture him for a while."

I was certain Doug could hear most of this.  He looked hot
enough to boil lobster.

And not a good kind of hot.  The good hot was beside me on his
cell phone cancelling the replacement.

My next call struck gold.  "I'm sorry, Ms. Hilliard is not at
home."  Ms?  Who calls someone Ms. Hilliard in her own home?
A staff.  This woman had a home staff.  Money.  She had money.

"I'd calling about the David Sheer trust fund.  We just wanted
to confirm her donation."  I didn't even think that was legal.
James was looking at me like I'd just bought pearl earrings
for my dog.

As if she had the neck for pearl earrings.

I listened to the man and then decided that I should be
hyperventilating.  But again, movies and television had lied
to me and I sat more or less calmly.

"Thanks for your help.  And please give Ms. Hilliard our
thanks."

I hung up and turned to James.  "It came from Joy Hilliard."

"Never heard of her."

"Ditto."

***

Much Music set aside a whole five minutes for me after they
found out I came NSYNCless.  (James had stayed in the car --
Doug didn't want him recognized.)  They went rushing around
trying to fill the 25 minutes they'd set aside to talk to
NSYNC.  Apparently they had assumed that where I went, the
boys went.

I'd never felt so hated, so I walked out a few minutes before
my time slot.  Doug came sputtering after me.  He was about to
tear my head off, but then he saw James and his cell phone and
remembered how close he was to the end of his job.

"Lance, you're going in.  They want NSYNC and David together."

"No.  He's on vacation."

"Sure, sounds like fun."

I pulled James into the back seat of the car.  "You don't want
to be seen with me, James."

"Yes, I do."

"James, if these people know that I'm gay, you don't need your
name and my name linked.  The press conference already showed
that they know how much time you spent at the hospital."

"Don't worry about it, David.  I'll do whatever I want with my
career."

"They don't want me in there.  They just want you.  You could
go in on your own."

"But I want you there, David."

He leaned forward and kissed me.  Doug pulled my door open.

"Get the hell out of the car and into the studio.  You're in
public for fuck's sake."

James giggled and we ran into the studio.  In side they were
mid-panic, trying to fill half an hour of programming.  There
was a small sigh of relief when they saw me, and everyone's
lungs emptied when they saw Lance.  He did his official smile
and wave.  We were lead over to a little sitting area where
some VJ I'd never seen before was flipping through a
clipboard.

"Just one?" she said, disappointed.

Lance kept his businessman smile going.  "Yeah, we weren't
told we were expected.  This was supposed to be just David."

"Not according to my notes."

Lance had the sweetest fake smile in the world going.  He
stepped up the accent.  "Then one of your people messed up."

This was going to be fun.  The air was so thick with tension,
that you could've attacked it with a chainsaw and built a
house with it.  Not a good house, and you wouldn't have had
much privacy, but you're missing the point.

We were accosted with people who attached mike packs while the
VJ started talking.  The cameras were going.  No warning, no
countdown, nothing.  Just live to air.

I got ignored for 15 minutes while they talked to James --
well, Lance.  He stayed in Lance mode.  But I could see James
getting angry underneath as he kept trying to guide the
interview to me and was continually blocked in his attempts.
Finally James took over -- a mighty angry James that could
easily replace Godzilla in Japanese culture.

(And yet still be cute as a button as he destroyed each
building.  The army wouldn't do a thing -- stopping a monster
is one thing, stopping a gorgeous disaster is another.
Cuteness is power.  It's too bad cute people never try to take
over the world.)

"I really have to be going.  I just came to support David in
HIS interview.  He s got other people to meet up with who
actually want to talk to HIM."  He smiled sweetly and the VJ
stared at him in open mouth shock with an 'I thought you were
the nice, shy one' look in her eyes.

James slipped out of his mike pack and walked off camera.  I
had more of a struggle to get out of mine.  I waved to the
camera and then chased after my James.

I'd be damned if I let JC have him now.

I could hear the panic spread through the studio as we walked
out.  Doug was having his third heart attack of the day by the
door, I could hear him swearing under his breath.  I tensed up
every muscle in my body to keep from laughing.

When we got to the car, James turned to me with a look of
concern blanketing his face.  His green eyes were sympathetic
and he ran his hand through his blond spikes.

"I'm so sorry about that, David.  I didn't think they'd do
that to you."

"Don't worry about it.  Life goes on."

"Maybe I should head back to the hotel so you won't have to
worry about NSYNC messing up your interviews."

"Even if you aren't there, the interviews will still be all
NSYNC related.  It s inevitable.  Anyway, the City Pulse
interview will probably be cancelled.  They're closely tied to
MuchMusic.  So all we've got are a few newspaper set-ups."

"Then back to campus for your doctor s appointment."

"It s Friday -- the campus should be dead by four."

"Good, then I don't have to use the disguise."

"Good, cause you look stupid in a baseball cap."

Doug came storming up behind us, jingling his keys around like
weapons of mass destruction.  He made JC's storm look like a
sun-shower.  "City Pulse cancelled," he said, unlocking my
door and putting a healthy scratch in the paint.

I faked surprise.  James and I were giggling as we climbed
into the back seat.

***

The newspapers were fun.  NSYNC never even got brought up.
They actually wanted to talk to me.  James sat beside me in
each one, and never said a thing, he flipped through a
magazine someone had left behind, reading up on Canadian
politics and trying not to fall asleep.

The first lady was in her thirties, short and blond.  She was
from the Star.

"So your poetry book sold 200 copies?"

"It was a chap book, really.  About thirty pages."

"Any other projects in the works?"

"A few, but they aren't really far enough along to mention.
Black cats, walking under ladders, pissing off a policeman,
that sort of thing.  Hate to jinx things."

"How's it feel to be rich?"

"I'm not rich.  It's all going to charity."

"But wasn't the trust fund set up as a reward?"

"It was, but I don't see why I should accept such a large sum
of money.  It could be of much better use somewhere else.  I
couldn't wrap my head around keeping it for myself -- too
greedy.  I never wanted to be rich, just comfortable."

"Any charities in mind?"

There were some queer youth lines I had in mind.  But James
was beside me.  James was straight.  I couldn't say it.
"Nothing in particular yet."

"Have you met Laura O'Hara since the attack?"

"No.  I'd probably be a reminder to her.  She doesn't need
that.  And other than one picture I saw of her on TV, I
wouldn't know her to see her.  I've got a day of complete
blankness."

"Are you a hero, David?"

That little woman stared straight into my eyes, asking the
exact same question I'd been asking since I woke up in that
hospital bed.  James was watching at me.  The journalist was
watching at me.

Thank God this wasn't live television.  There was a minute of
dead air and my face must've looked like a "please stand by,
we are experiencing technical difficulties" graphic.

Finally my brain whirred and hissed and shot out an answer I
could live with.

"It depends on whose eyes you're looking through."

"In your eyes?"

The hissing fell silent.

"No."

The next journalist was from the Sun.  He did a very brief
interview and nothing noteworthy happened.  I could bore you
with a commentary on his appearance (Poor guy didn't look
thirty yet.  His eyebrows looked a few decades older -- they'd
long since outgrown his body.)  I did the interview on
autopilot and before I knew it I was heading back for Doug's
car.

"Wait, he's heading back downtown.  We've got to go north."
This lack of logic hadn't occurred to me because I was walking
behind James and was enjoying the view.

James turned around and caught me.  I blushed and he laughed.
Doug was still in the building, but I doubted he'd be
receptive to a thirty minute detour.

"Still got your disguise, Jimmy?"

He pulled his hat out of his back pocket and his sunglasses
from God knows where.

"Transit tokens are on me, baby," I laughed.

We slipped off and I secretly hoped Doug would have another
heart attack while searching for us.  A fatal one.

***

The subway was way too crowded.  We stood at one of the doors,
staring out just to keep our faces from the crowd.  I wasn't
worried about me.  Today had proven that the media had
forgotten me -- and had shown me that James never would be.

When we noticed too many fingers being pointed our way, we got
off and waited for the next train.  We had to do it three
times before we got to Downsview Station.  The express bus to
the university was still running, and still crowded.  We were
trapped in it, and we were both recognized.  More and more
people were staring as the whispers slipped around.

But in a style distinct to my campus, no-one made the
approach.  Baseball caps weren't stylish, we were therefore
shunned.

Probably not their reasoning, but very true of my campus.
Clothing can make you a social outcast quickly.  (Social
outcast status puts you in the same league as 97% of the
students, but no-one likes to admit that.)

As expected, the campus was crowdless.  We slipped through the
mall and into the doctor's office, dodging all of the people
offering their credit card applications as we went.  We were
an hour early so I gave James a quick campus tour.

***

If there were people in a hallway, we avoided it.  We stayed
outside for the most part, but there were a few things inside
that I had to show him.  The echoes of Vari Hall were very
cool, especially since no-one was around.

He sang a few lines of something I'd never heard, and it
echoed back.  I'd once heard a girl play her violin there when
she thought no-one was around.  I was on the third floor
studying to get away from my roommate who was snoring louder
than usual.  It was one of the coolest sounds ever.

I sang a few lines before James' hand clamped over my mouth.

"Promise me you'll never sing again," he giggled.  "It's for
the good of humanity."

I didn't mind much -- I was better at harmonies.  Still not
good, but not bad.  I pinched his butt.  He jumped away with a
yelp, returning control of my mouth to me.

Then I took him to other highlights, like the Nazi-Cow (an
outdoor sculpture that looks nothing like a cow, but from
either end looks like a Swastika -- rumours said the artist
didn't realize the resemblance until it was put in place.)  I
pointed out some buildings that were used for different TV
shows and movies, then we ran back to the campus mall, just in
time to be late for my appointment.

James stayed with me through the examination, asking a lot of
questions.  He was taking the role of nurse maid.  He was
getting very attached.  Too attached.

Tuesday would kill him -- the plan returned to my mind.

***

Doc claimed everything was healing well, and that was that, we
were off again.  We decided to take a cab back to the hotel
instead of TTCing it during the 5 o'clock rush.

"I want to meet Joy Hilliard."

James just nodded, as if he was expecting this.  I pulled all
of my strength into my throat and made my move.  I set my JC
plan in action.

"And I think I'm going to move back into residence tomorrow."

Okay, so it wasn't much of a plan.  I never claimed to be
MacGyver or anything, and when it came to relationships (where
emotions tie everything up) I was the equivalent of my father
and pick-up-sticks.  No matter where the pick-up-sticks were
put, my father had an unerring ability to step on them,
destroying several with each step.

James' head spun around to look at me.  His eyes widened,
flashing that emerald green.  I refused to look at him because
I knew I'd give in.

"It's the weekend, so the building will be empty anyway.  And
I have a lot of readings to do and an essay to work on."

"Can I come with you?"

"We'll still have the phone, and we'll see each other every
day.  But I need to get back into my own life.  Being with you
and the guys was great, but it was an escape.  It wasn't
real."

My voice cracked.  He had to know I was lying, there were a
thousand little deceptions.  I couldn't care less about my
classes now.  Even if the boys flew out tomorrow, I doubted
I'd see a class this month.  I was entertaining the idea of
just getting a place downtown and dropping all of my courses
for the year and starting fresh next September.

The hero status could get me a good refund on residence and
tuition.  And I'd been meaning to separate my finances from my
parents, so their complaints and yelling could only go so far.
And with the money NSYNC was giving me for the way management
was using me for news coverage, there shouldn't be a problem.

I'd get a little job and spend my year in hibernation.
Hopefully I'd have my energy back by next year.  I just can't
learn when I'm tired.  And I was tired.  Incredibly tired.  It
s not a physical state, but an emotional deadening.  I just
didn't want to do anything except be with James, but that
wasn't healthy for him or for me.  He was going off on
Tuesday.  It's better to get distance now.  Slowly back off.

Or, in this case, throw the car in reverse and push the pedal
through the floor.

He'd turned away from me now, staring out the window.  His
breathing sounded funny.

Lord, don't let him be crying, I thought.  I didn't mean it to
sound that harsh.

The cab got to the hotel and James tossed some cash towards
the driver and walked into the building.  I stayed on the
sidewalk and called the room.
"Watermelon," I said to the receptionist so that she'd connect
me.

Chris answered.  "Chris, I need to talk to Josh."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just get me Josh."

A few seconds later Josh was on the line.  "Josh, it's David.
James is on his way up.  He needs you right now."  It wasn't
much of a plan, but I never claimed to be a strategist.  I
never even claimed to be able to play tic-tac-toe without
someone getting hurt.

I hung up and walked up the block.  I wouldn't be welcome
upstairs right now.  Or ever, really.  I didn't know how I'd
get my stuff, but I was willing to abandon it.  But my pills
were there.

Shit, I had to go back.

A few minutes later my cell phone rang, but I ignored it.  I
went into a Tim Hortons, got a hot chocolate and a honey dip
and found a table off from the rest of the place.  When the
phone started ringing again, I turned it off.

***

"What the hell are you doing?" Josh yelled into my ear.

My hot-chocolate was gone and the donut was a distant fluffy
memory.

"Is he alright?"

"Of course he isn't alright.  What's going on in your mind,
David?"

I let the question hang in the air.  I didn't know the answer
to that anymore.  Everything had made so much sense earlier,
but after some time even I thought I was a complete idiot.

"He's yours, Josh.  It's for the best."

"He doesn't WANT me, David!  He's in love with you for some
shitty reason."

"Look, I can't talk about this now.  I just need my stuff and
then I'll head back to my place."

"You can't come up here.  Chris and Joey would tear your head
off right now."

"I'll get it later then.  When you get a chance can you send
it to the front desk?  I'll come by for it tomorrow."

"Your pills are still here."

"I'll live without them for one night."

He sighed on his end.  "Meet me in the lobby in fifteen
minutes."  He hung up on me.

I sat there wishing I smoked.  It would have looked so
beautifully dramatic.  It would've been something everyone in
the restaurant remembered -- they wouldn't have forgotten me.

Especially since it was illegal to smoke in here.

***

I got to the lobby before Josh showed up.  I just stood by the
elevator.  The receptionist waved at me, remembering me from
several run ins over the past few days.

Finally the elevator doors opened and there was JC.  I stepped
back.  He didn't have my bags.  Then there was a hand on my
back and I heard Justin s voice.  "Get in the elevator."

***

Part 14

When the doors closed, Justin pushed me up against a wall.
"What the hell are you doing?  You hate residence."

I didn't say anything.  If I so much as talked, I knew the
tears would come.

JC pulled Justin away from me and we waited for our floor to
show up.  I gained enough control over my voice to say, "I
need to talk to Josh alone."

Justin gave me a death stare and left the elevator.  He
stormed into the suite and Josh and I stayed in the hallway.

"What the hell is going on, David?"

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the revealing of
the stupidest plan since snow cones were introduced to the
Yukon.  He cleaned against the wall and glared at me with his
pretty eyes -- James would enjoy those eyes.

"You guys are all leaving on Tuesday.  James doesn't need to
be tied back to me.  It d just be phone calls and email and a
huge pile of angst, but if he had no ties to me, then he could
go off, and you could tell him how you feel and he'd be happy
and you'd be happy and you'd be together where-ever you went."

I took a huge ragged breath.

The sheer (no pun intended) stupidity of the plan kept me from
crying.  I was really missing the logical side of my brain --
I'd never realized how important it was to keeping me from
being completely brain dead.

JC's face softened.  "That's the stupidest thing I've ever
heard.  He loves you, you love him.  I'm only in the picture
as a friend and well wisher."

"You love him too."

"Yeah, and I've seen how much you two care for each other.
I'd be an idiot to try to come between that, almost as much of
an idiot as you are right now.  He's never responded to my
flirting before, why would he now?"

"He didn't know you were gay -- or bi -- or whatever you are."

It wasn't a deer in the headlights look, it was a deer that
just realized the forest floor had run out and he had a four
hundred foot fall to look forward to.  "You told him?"

"No."  He relaxed.  "But if you told him, you'd have a
chance."

"I don't want a chance, David Sheer.  I wouldn't want any
chance that leaves him crying like he is right now."

"I messed up."

"Buying the wrong size shoes is messing up.  Dropping a bomb
on the wrong embassy is messing up.  You more than messed up."
He hugged me.  "But thanks for thinking of me.  Now get your
ass in there and fix our Lance."

He swatted me on the ass and aimed me at the entrance to the
suite.

Chris and Joey were on the couch.  I tried not to look them in
they eye as I passed.  Chris almost said something but JC
silenced him quickly.

I knocked on James' door.  There was no response, so I opened
it a crack and peered in.  The room was empty.  I walked
through his room to the shared bathroom, but it was empty too.
I could hear voices in my room.  James and Justin.

"He's in the hall with JC, Scoop.  He just came for his
stuff."

"He can go to hell."

"I'll second that."

With that heart warming introduction, I made my entrance.  The
teddy bears were scattered across the floor, thrown in random
directions from the bed.  James had his face buried in one of
my pillows and Justin was rubbing his back with one hand.

I was glad I wasn't there for the torturing of the bears.

Justin saw me.  Fortunately he and I had an email background,
it's probably what saved me from being destroyed by
fire-breath.  Justin stood up and left the room with a death
stare even I had to envy.

I sat on the side of the bed and put my hand on James  back.
His breathing stopped.

"Go away, David."

He'd recognized the touch of my hand.  I never knew anyone
could do that.

"I'm sorry, James.  That came out all wrong."

"How was it supposed to come out?  'Well, it's been fun, but
the cameras are already bored with me.  You've done as much as
you can to keep me famous, so I'm out of here.'"

"It was nothing like that.  You know how uncomfortable I was
with the NSYNC focus.  Hell, with any focus."

He sat up and looked me in the eye.  I was still worried I'd
lose my head before all of this was resolved.  I had no idea
where to start.  I flashed my "experiencing technical
difficulties" look again.

The door to my room closed, and JC walked up behind me.

"He wasn't thinking right, but he had your best interests at
heart, Lance."

James' jealousy returned.  JC and I were again seen as a team.

"So it's JC you want, eh David?  So you broke it off with me?"

I was crying already -- not a common experience for me, but
these guys had some weird aura that brought me to tears way
too much.  They should have considered becoming therapists.

"He did that so that you and I could get together, Lance." JC
said.  "I'm bi and he knows how much I love you."

It was kind of a sucker punch, I guess.  James wasn't
expecting it at all.

James' voice filled with hate.  "You convinced him to do
this?" he spat at JC.  Josh cringed.

"Josh didn't know I was doing it.  It was all in my head.  I
thought you two would be perfect together, touring everywhere,
never being apart.  I was stupid."

James didn't know how to react.  He was on information
overload and circuits were frying.

"With you going away in a few days," I continued with my
cracking voice, "I didn't want you to be lonely.  I didn't
want you to miss me.  He'd have always been there for you."

"Don't you love me, David?"

"I love you more than anything.  It killed me to do this, but
I thought it was best for you."

"That should be MY decision, David, not yours.  And I chose
you."

Part of my brain was registering a cheese overload, but the
majority was busy hacking the cheese metre to death.  James
was in my arms and he was cracking ribs with the strength of
his hug.  My stomach was a searing pain somewhere under him,
but I didn't want the hug to stop for anything.  I heard JC
let himself out of the room and then immersed myself in the
hug.

"Don't you ever pull anything like that again, asshole," he
whispered in my ear.  I bit his neck in apology.  He pushed me
away.

We sat on the bed and just watched each other, both of us
regaining our smiles.

"How're we going to explain this to the guys without outing
Josh?" James asked me quietly.

"They can stay mad at me."

"They'll need to hear something."

Chris' raised voice carried through the door.  "You're bi?!
This is turning into some American version of Priscilla.  I
don't do drag, man!"

James and I cracked up.  Problem solved.  I owed Josh BIG
time.

I climbed up on top of James and stared into his green eyes.
I hated knowing that they were bloodshot because of me.
"Forgive me, James?"

"Eventually."

He pulled out from under me and walked out of the room and
into the hall.  When he opened the door, there was Joey,
acting as femme as he could.

"I think I just caught gay, honey."

He dodged the mangled teddy bear I aimed at his head.

***

I can't say that everything went back to normal.  I felt
distanced from everyone.  JC and James were still on my side,
but I had to win back the respect of the others.  It turns out
that Justin had no problem getting into the club last night,
so everyone was looking forward to going again tonight.  James
and I agreed to go, even though I had reservations.

In my first two years of university I'd totally withdrawn into
the gay community.  I never was comfortable in straight clubs,
and I'd cut off heterosexual contact for long enough to become
terrified of being surrounded by straights at their most
dangerous -- hunting for mates.

Things had changed a bit for third year.  I was making friends
with straights and kept getting invited out, and I was even
starting to accept.  I still found straight bars annoying
because they were a tease -- you can look, but don't touch.
You can touch, but don't expect to walk away with your teeth.

I'd managed to realized that gay didn't mean "cool" and
straight male didn't mean "I'm gonna kick your ass, faggot."
Most straight people thought I was straight anyway -- so the
danger was mostly imagined.

In any case, this time I was going with my man.  That would
tame my roving eye.

Which left me wondering what I'd do since I wasn't in peak
dancing form.  (Shoot the Lord of the Dance in the stomach and
I bet you the performance would suffer.)  Since I didn't drink
much, I had a feeling that this night would end up high on my
list of worst nights out.

But it didn't much matter -- Justin's luck had run its course
and he was turned away at the door by a bouncer who obviously
had no idea who he was.  The poor bouncer nearly got lynched
by the other people in line for his ignorance.

He wouldn't give in.

Justin sulked and turned away from the club.  "You guys go in.
I'll go catch a movie or something."

"I'll join you," I said, slipping out of the line.  James
tried to follow but Chris and Joey had already dragged him in,
following a beautiful Italian girl.  JC shrugged and slipped
into the club.

"You don't have to keep me company, David."

"You shoulda told me that before I gave up my place in line."
I laughed.  "I'm not much in the mood or the condition for a
dance club anyway."

We ended up walking for a while before going into another Tim
Hortons -- the cornerstone of any Canadian social life.  I was
educating Justin on how Canadians live -- the donuts, the
proper use of "eh", a healthy contempt for political figures
and a worship of anything natural (as long as it doesn't get
in the way of the fastest route from A to B.)

I was just getting into the magic of the letter "u" when my
cell started ringing.

It was James.  "Where are you?"

"We're getting coffee, why?"

"I want to be with you."

"Ah, escaped Chris and Joey?"

"Not yet, but I can arrange it.  Can you lose Justin?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gunna.  I haven't spent any time with him."

"Please?"

"We're two streets east in the Tim Hortons.  You can be a
third wheel."

"Be there in five."

I put the phone away and Justin sat down with his feast.
Jeez, that boy could eat.

"Lance is coming?"

"On his way, yeah."

"Is everything settled between you two?"

"I think so.  He'll forgive me in time."

"I've never seen him fall for anyone like he has for ya.  Even
when ya were just an email guy, he talked about you all the
time.  That's why I started emailing -- he couldn't stop
talking about ya.  It kind of outted him to the group, but he
didn't notice."

I blushed into my hot chocolate and burned my tongue.  Burns
are all part of the Tim Hortons experience.  It was
practically a cultural thing -- complaining about it
would be like burning the flag.

"I had a crush on Jason too.  And a crush on Lance.  And now
I'm in love with James."

He laughed at me.  "How do you feel about Scoop?"

"Haven't met that personality yet, what's he like?"

"Funner version of Lance."

We sat in silence for a minute before James burst through the
door to the donut shop.  He waved at us and then went to the
counter and ordered.  The cashier looked from him to Justin
and back, performing complex calculus that apparently added up
to hysteria.  She hyperventilated as she arranged his order.

Justin leaned across the table and lowered his voice.  His
distinctive smirk spread across his mouth.  "Hurt him again
and I hunt you down, Canuck."  Then he took a sip of his drink
and yelped -- he'd burned his tongue.

"Welcome to Canada, Yankee."

James sat down and didn't bother to ask why we were laughing.

"That was a lot less than five, Jimmy."

"I needed the run -- don't wanna get out of shape."

Justin smirked again.  "Ya mean ya didn't wanna be away from
lover-boy."

"Either one works for me," James smiled, picking up his
steaming drink.

Justin grabbed it away, yelping again as a bit spilled over
the edge of the cup and burned his hand.  "Careful, ya can
kill yourself on this stuff.  It'll cook yer tongue."

They weren't going to be easy to convert over from their
American tendencies.

***

We ended up hitting the streets again when we noticed
hyperventilating-cashier-girl calling her friends and
whispering about us.  We left before the rush arrived.

It was too late to see a movie so we went back to the hotel
and got something there.  A very forgettable movie with drug
dealers, guns and millions of dollars of special effects that
should have been spent on quality actors.  James and Just
seemed to like it, so I just grabbed my notebook and edited
poem.

Writing a new one was out of the question.  I was too happy to
be there.  But by Wednesday I'd be writing some great stuff.
James was leaving.  I kept repeating that over and over.  By
Tuesday he'd be gone.

Somehow, being able to write again didn't seem like it would
be worth losing James for.

It was hard to wrap my mind around him leaving.  He'd always
been there -- that was the reality.  There was nothing before
him, so there could be nothing after him.

Eventually, long after the 5 minutes worth of plot had run
out, the final credits rolled.  James yawned happily at me and
I smiled back.  "Great movie," he said.

I smiled woodenly.

"I was kidding, you ass."  He climbed onto my lap.  Justin was
fast asleep at the other end of the couch.

"Is there someone I can petition to get the last two hours of
my life back?" I asked hopefully.

"Don't worry," James said.  "I'll do whatever I can to make it
all up."

He kissed me and the last two hours suddenly did seem to be
time well spent.  No time with this angel could be considered
wasted.

Cheesy, yes, but not wasted.

"Feel better?"

"One more, and then we'll see."

He kissed me again, and then raised an eyebrow to see how I
rated his performance.

"Not bad.  But now it's Justin's turn."

He scrunched his face in mock disgust and I pulled him into my
arms.  It wasn't long before he was lightly snoring.  A few
moments more and my legs fell completely asleep.  I stayed
awake and listened to him sleep, keeping him warm.

***

The other guys got back two hours later.  I was still awake
and watched them come in.  After several hours at a club they
didn't even look tired.  Joey had someone's phone number
written on his hand.  They waved and quietly slipped off to
their rooms.

I cradled my snoring James in my arms and tried to remember
what having legs felt like.  Then I started to wonder why
hotels even had beds -- I seemed to be living on the couch.

***

Morning came to find the three of us on the couch entwined and
in pain.  Backs hurt, necks hurt, everything hurt.  I was
beginning to miss the entire concept of sleeping while lying
down.  Especially since the bed in my room was the size of an
Olympic pool.

Justin's groaning woke me.  His head was on my shoulder and he
was rubbing his neck.  James was watching him.  James' head
was on my lap and most of his body was spread over Justin.

"Let David take a go at that -- he's got a gift."

"Only for you, James.  Anything to get my hands on you."

James snorted.  "Perv."

"Only for you, baby."

Justin managed to climb out from under James and wandered his
way to his room in a zig zag fashion.  "Night," he mumbled.

I estimated it was around eight.

"I need a shower," I said.

"You sure do."

Damn him.  He was stealing my material.  I pushed him off of
my onto the floor.  Then I ran.  I could hear him laughing as
he chased after me.  I got into the bathroom and locked both
doors to keep myself safe.  I wasn't planning on having
bubbles to hide behind this time.

***

After my shower and bandage change I slipped into my room.
The teddy bears were again neatly piled on the bed.  A larger
pile than usual, I noticed.  The feet sticking out of the end
of the pile were the first clue that something was up.

If he wanted a strip tease he could damn well ask for one, I
decided.  I got dressed in the bathroom and slipped out
through James' room to the kitchen.  I filled a jug with water
and slipped back in through the bathroom.

A soaked bed was a small price to pay, especially since I
never seemed to use it.  You should have seen the look on his
face.  I'd have killed for a camera.

(But I'd have killed for anything, a dark little voice
whispered in my head.  Two shots.  He's still unconscious.  I
shook that voice away as quickly as I could.)

James snarled at me and the pursuit started again.  He caught
me at the couch, pinning me down and dripping on me.

"Yeah," I huffed, "I'm the perv, Mr. Peeping James."

He kissed me, just to shut me up.  His plan worked.

***

I finally pulled myself away from James and the couch around
nine.  "Ya gotta brush your teeth anyway, Jimmy.  Last thing
we need is for me to hurl in the middle of a make-out
session."  The pillow he threw came nowhere near me.  I found
my cell phone and called the Hilliard house.

"Is Ms. Hilliard there?"

"No, she is not."

"Can I leave her a message?"

I left my name and phone number and asked for her to please
call me back.  My phone rang less than five minutes later.  It
was the same voice from before.

"Ms. Hilliard would like to meet you."

I had a mental celebration.

"She would like to know if you are free this afternoon at 2."

I quickly agreed and copied down the address the man gave me.
It was a hospital.

"Thanks."

I hung up and ran to tell James -- he was in the shower.
Some day I had to teach him how to lock doors, but it wouldn't
be any day soon.

"Jimmy?" I called over the sound of the water.

The water stopped and his head popped around the side of the
curtain.  He looked nervous.   "Bit busy in here," he said --
nerves thickened his accent.  I decided to make him nervous
more often.

I waggled my eyebrows at him.  "Maybe I'll join you."

He appeared to consider it.  I started blushing and he laughed
at me.

"What's up, Davey?"

"I'm meeting Joy Hilliard at 2, wanna join me?"

"Only if you join me."

He opened the shower curtain a bit.  I knew he was kidding,
but I really considered joining him.

"Maybe later," I laughed, slipping out of the bathroom and
into a fantasy land full of peppermint shower gel.

***

In the email, Jason had said he liked taking things slow.
Granted, he was talking about girls when he said it.  He
didn't like rushing into a sexual relationship.  I'd agreed.
I'd tried rushing into it before (not that there was that much
"it" in my past), and it just never felt right.

Jason was James, so James felt the same way.

I just needed to know what he thought before I tried anything.
I already had one major strike against me, last thing I wanted
was to rush him.  I decided not to mention anything.  He would
bring it up when he was ready.

In the meantime, I didn't need sex.  I felt incredibly content
with what we had.  I'd choose a hug from James over sex with
anyone in the world.   His arms were a safe world with no
bullets, no scars and no media.  It was warmth and security
and love.

But Lord, he was so sexy.

***

Part 15

The guys didn't make their appearances for a few more hours.
I could hear JC doing some vocal warm-ups in the kitchen.
James and I were on the couch -- I was introducing him to
Canadian television.  (Which, admittedly isn't much different
than American TV until you get to the prime time programming
and amazing shows like Traders.  Just think of Canadian shows
as having higher IQs than their American counterparts, much
like Canadians. :)

I slipped into the kitchen for a snack.  JC was raiding the
fridge and doing some simple scales.

"What're you up to today, Josh?"

I grabbed a banana and hoped up onto the counter.

"The hotel has a piano downstairs.  I've got a song I wanted
to work on.  What about you?"

"I'm meeting the woman who sent me all the money."

"James going?"

"Do you really need to ask?" I laughed.

"I think the rest of the guys are planning on some
recreational shopping.  We don't seem to get mobbed up here as
much as we do in the States."

He found something edible and hopped up onto the island across
from me.

"Thanks for everything, Josh.  You saved my ass yesterday."

"No problem.  But if you do it again, I'll. . . "

I cut him off.  "You'll hunt me down.  Ya, I know.  It's been
covered."

"Try and get back by five, David.  We're going to do a big
night out at a restaurant.  Something fancy."

"Golden Griddle?"

"I said fancy."

"Please?"

He smirked at me.  "You're really in a place to make demands?"

"I lose all sense of what I can do when Golden Griddle gets
into my head.  The blueberry pancakes are worth every penny in
my trust fund."

"The local charities'll be impressed to hear that."

"You saw the press conference?"

"We all did.  And today's papers."

They were on the island beside him.  The Star gave me some
front page space, the Sun didn't.  "Sheer Heroics," one of the
Star headlines read.  It was becoming increasingly clear that
I needed a new name.  David Bass had a ring to it.

JC smirked and hopped off the island.  "I was actually
surprised Doug didn't kill you.  MuchMusic was priceless --
they tried to make the shortened interview look like it was
supposed to happen that way -- the VJ was panicking on stage
and then some blond guy came out and took over."

"Rick-the-Temp?"

"Yeah."

Damn.  I could have met Rick-the-Temp.  Ah well, James-the-God
was better.

***

We got to the hospital around one thirty.  It looked really
different than the one I'd escaped from, but I still wasn't
comfortable.  Even with the coloured stripes on the floor and
the signs on the wall, it took us a while to find the room we
wanted.

The door was open, but I knocked anyway.  An old but bright
woman's voice told us to come in.  The room was less a
hospital room than a duplicate of my rez room.  Books were
piled on any available surface and the window was open to
direct sunlight.  It was also open, letting in some chilly
fresh air.

A thin woman was propped up with pillows in the bed.  I could
tell she was tall, probably taller than I was, but she
couldn't have weighed half of what I did.  She was smiling
with big white teeth and her white hair fell around her
shoulders.

She was beautiful with regal eyebrows and a fine chin.  Her
eyes were very much alive, but the rest of her was as still as
stone.  I could hear each breath she took from where I stood
by the door.

"Ms. Hilliard?"

"Call me Joy, David.  Who's your friend?"

"This is James."

She nodded at him and her smile grew.  "Get out, James, and
close the door."

We were startled, to say the least.  But I looked at James and
nodded.  He gave Joy a warm (and bewildered) smile and left,
pulling the door closed.

"He's a nice boy, David.  Definitely a keeper."

My bewilderedness turned into complete confusion and shock.

"Yeah, he's a great friend."

"And a strong lover.  He won't give you any worries."

"He and I aren't . . ."

"I'm an old dying dyke, David, but I'm not blind."  I stood
there with my mouth hanging open and she cackled at me.  Her
smile would've been infectious if I wasn't half-way to being
in full defensive mode.  "I spent forty years with a woman who
looked at me the way he looks at you.  You found him young, I
didn't find my heart until I was in my forties.  Hold onto
him."

She turned her head a fraction of an inch towards a chair.
"Have a seat."

I picked up the books that were on the seat and put them on my
lap.  I recognized the cover of my poetry book halfway down
the pile.

"I'm surprised you tracked me down, David.  I didn't expect
you to know my name until after I died, when the will went
through."

Will?

"I found the card from your flowers."

I could see James peering through the little window in the top
half of the door.  I tried to avoid his gaze so I wouldn't
give him away.

"Yellow roses always were my favourite."

"Mine too," I agreed.

She raised an eyebrow.  "Really?"

Her eyes were watching, drinking me in and judging me.  Her
smile showed she liked what she saw.

"I've left you everything in my will, David.  The house, the
money, everything."

My mouth was moving but I couldn't force any sound out.  She
cackled again, clearly enjoying herself.

"I'd decided to do it even before your display of heroics.
First came your play, and then the book of poetry.  That
decided me.  Your handling of the O'Hara boy just made it that
much more fitting."  Her voice was amazingly strong coming
from such a dilapidated body.  She was beautiful, and clearly
always had been, but it was obvious that her body had failed
her, not her mind or her spirit.  The idea of being trapped in
a body like that scared me.

"Thank you, Joy, but surely there's someone else."

"My lover died four years ago.  I was an only child, so I have
no nieces and nephews.  All of my friends have died, or are
too old to enjoy the money even if they had it.  Even my
servants are strangers to me -- the company that arranges them
never leaves anyone with me for more than a few months.  I
chose you."

Somehow this didn't sound all that strange to me.  After the
events of the past week I wouldn't be surprised to find myself
playing lawn games with the Queen of Hearts.

"You'll love the house.  I spent a life-time making that place
perfect.  I haven't seen it in two years."  Her voice was
getting softer, she was running out of steam.

"And forget the charity crap.  I've given enough to charities
in my life, this money is yours.  You have talent -- but
talent doesn't pay these days.  So I will.  You have all the
time in the world to write now.  Promise me you won't give it
all away, that's all I ask."

I glanced over at James.  His nose was pressed to the glass
and he was in as much shock as I was.

I made the promise.

"Now take your spy and leave.  Old women need their sleep
without the interference of young men, and young men need to
be outside and away from old women."

She cackled again and I thanked her profusely.  I gave her a
quick kiss on the cheek as I left and she was already falling
asleep.  But the eyes remained alert in her stone body.

As James and I walk down the hallway I heard her voice call
out behind us.  "Take care of him, James, or I'll haunt you
forever."

We smiled at each other and returned to the outside world.

***

I know how strange all of this has sounded so far, and that's
why I'm writing it all out.  It was a fantastic time in my
life when everything was out of my control.  Life happened to
me.  (In some cases, against my will.)

But it's the nature of the story to be fantastic -- I haven't
had a dull life, so I can't write about a dull life.  What
I've lived has been so out of the ordinary that even I
sometimes forget that it's real.  Fact and fiction swim around
in my head.

When James had arrived, my life changed.  When I met Joy, I
saw the rest of who I was fall away.  We define ourselves by
what we do -- for the first time in my life I no longer had
the label of "student."  It was something I could walk away
from.

School is a great thing when you want to learn.  Forcing
education on someone doesn't help.  As the years go by, post
secondary education becomes a requirement for life.  You just
can't support yourself with a high school degree anymore.

Joy just passed me a get out of school free card, and without
having to think about it, I knew I'd accept.  School would
still be there when I wanted it -- if I wanted it.

But for now, I'd escaped from my life and my identity.  I had
no way to define myself.

Except for the one certainty -- I loved James Lance Bass.

And he loved me.

In the cab I folded my coat on the seat between us and he held
my hand.  It kept me grounded as my mind threatened to fly
away.  Little plans appeared and stirred themselves up, ideas
of how to spent the money, what I could accomplish, how
quickly life had changed.

But on top of everything was the calender.  Saturday was
nearly gone.  Sunday would follow.  Then Monday.  They'd all
disappear.

And on Tuesday everything would change again.

I was holding James' hand so tightly that it had to hurt him.
He sat quietly and watched me.

***

End of chapter 15.