Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2000 03:34:54 EDT From: NCC1701DS9@aol.com Subject: every-little-thing-i-do-7 Hi! Yes, the "long awaited" sequel to the previous chapter is here! Right...whatever. Anyway, yes, I have reached my goal of getting this out before school starts, so be glad! However, after this, the rate at which chapters are turned out will DECREASE DRAMATICALLY because of school. So instead of one every week or so, it'll be more like one every month, if I get that lucky. I'll try to work on it during any free time, but working on a story at noon isn't the greatest. All of these chapters have been produced mainly at, oh, two in the morning! :-) But obviously, I can't do that anymore. I have to start catching any hours of sleep I can get! But probably once midterms are over, in late january, things should pick up. Hopefully, assuming that I haven't ended the story first. But it doesn't look like it'll be ending any time soon! Those of you on my list already, you'll always get notification. Unfortunately, anyone who e-mails me after this installment will NOT be added to my list of early informants. Oh, those of you on there, I may start recruiting you for plot help! I don't know yet...it'll depend on how many blocks I run into, which, so far, I am happy to say, is ZERO! Yay! Oh, I must give my thanks to my myriad of readers who keep me company late into the mornings...or is it early into the mornings? To Chris (congrats!), Ken, Jeff, Jake, thanks! Well, enjoy this episode and savor it! It may be a while before we find out what happens! This includes me! I don't know what'll happen yet! OK, and here are the boring, various disclaimers. This is a FICTIONAL story involving the band NSync, specifically member Lance Bass. I do not know NSync in any way, shape, or fashion with the exception of what I can get off of fan pages, their official site, various interviews, and the like. I do not know the sexual orientations of any members, although a guy can dream, can't he? :-) I do not claim to know the personalities of any member of Nsync either, and all reactions are the product of one deranged author. If you're part of Nsync, please e-mail me! If you're not, e-mail me anyway! Iff (test your math/science terminology here!) you are offended by homosexual relationships, or are under 18 or the legal age in your area, or your local laws/customs do not permit the reading of such material, then don't continue, even though this section contains no sex. GASP! Yes, I'm not one for writing porn stories. This is (hopefully!) a real story with emotions beyond passion. If those rules apply to you, then don't get caught reading this if you do decided to go on and read it. Prevoiusly in "Every Little Thing I Do"... I signed off, resigned that no one was ever going to come on. I felt a bit depressed, but not very. Just a slight downer, nothing much. Don't stress? Yeah right, here I was, stressing before even a day had passed. Great advice, Sarah. I got up, setting the lap top on the couch carefully, and found the light switch. I dimmed them, placing me in semi-darkness. The driver drove on, oblivious to what I was doing. I stared out the window at the passing streets, watching the Delaware flow below us as we crossed into New Jersey for the jaunt to New York. My mind whirled and flowed, going in no particular direction with no goal in mind. It stopped thinking, then started, then stopped. It did whatever it wanted to do. I didn't care anymore. I just looked out the window at the passing cars, wondering if the occupants within knew who they were driving next to. Wondering if I was ever one of those occupants, and what brought me onto this side of the window. Every Little Thing I Do Chapter 7 By Mahka Door walk where is here what am I doing am I gay shake bump cliff who is here I don't understand what's going on just what am I doing I so don't get it shake bump jiggle sex no no sex not now gay maybe bi who knows nsync lance people tour door lights cameras who on earth bump who am I bump why bump thought clouds smooth or not maybe need food late early philly family friends leave me behind why am I here bump shake blind light noise honk blind light pressure feel hand pressure who what where gay bi blind shake bump quiet noise no noise hum shake shake shake shake shake... I opened my eyes gingerly, raising my hands to shield them from the probing light coming from above. I looked up blearily. My contacts were not giving me a fun time. My vision was hazy, blurred by the protein deposits. My legs hurt, and so did my back. Someone was shaking me. I looked around a little more, things coming back into focus slowly. They finally focused on the head of JC, who was looking at me and shaking me by the shoulder. "Damn man, you can SLEEP!" "Wh-Where are we? What time is it?" Stupid question. I knew the answer before he said it. "New York, at the hotel, and it's about 2 AM. You wanna sleep on a bed or do you want to stay on the couch?" My eyes had finally adjusted to the bright flourescents, and I looked about. The laptop was still sitting on the couch. I was lying on my back, my legs curled up under me in the position I had been sitting in earlier. I guess I had fallen asleep at some point. The bus was quiet, looking deserted. I guess the other members had already gone into the hotel. "Well?" "Alright, alright, I'm coming," I said as I dragged myself into a sitting position and swung me legs over the edge of the couch. They prickled as circulation returned. "How long have you been standing over me?" I asked. "About five minutes. Tried to wake you before we stopped, but that didn't work." "I'm sorry." I walked to my bunk, then turned when I realized that I hadn't placed anything in it earlier. I left the bus with JC behind me. It's true, I admit it. I sleep, and I sleep heavily. A bomb could go off and I wouldn't hear it. Wait...I would, but only if I was sleeping in a place that wasn't home or homey. Then I was on my "travel" sleeping habit...much lighter. We walked into the lobby together, and he pressed a card key into my hand. "This is your room key, and your bag is already there. But I'm going to walk you there since you look like you're going to crash again." "Thanks." It was true. I'd slip through the crack between the elevator and floor if I wasn't kept awake. We entered the elevator, and he inserted his key into a slot, pressing the second to top floor. "The top three floors are reserved for us and locked out for privacy. So you have to use your key to take the elevator up there." I leaned against his shoulder, closing my eyes again. He wasn't half bad himself. I could smell his cologne or deodorant or whatever it was. "You know that I won't remember any of this, right?" The door opened at our floor. "Right. Don't worry, we'll tell you again tomorrow morning." He led me down the hall, stopping in front of a door. "This is your room. You're sharing with Lance." My eyes flew open, and sleep fled immediately. I couldn't possibly share a room with him for a full week, not in our current state. But I couldn't let JC know that, so I said nothing. "Right," I said in a mock sleepy tone. I took the key he had given me and purposely inserted it the wrong way into the lock. "Other way, silly," he said, taking the key from me and opening the door for me. "Right, thanks." I stumbled into the dark room. Not a single light was on, and the curtains were drawn tight. "It's dark," I commented, keeping my fake sleep voice. "Yeah, Lance can't sleep with any lights on, even little lights. It's funny because he has to put something over his cell phone charger." He laughed. "It sucks rooming with him if you want to stay up, cause he needs all the lights out to sleep. It's really tough if we're in the same place for a few days and stuff gets thrown around. You try to come back after a night out or go to the bathroom and end up with about five bumps and a bruise, and makeup gives you hell for it the next day." He chuckled again, and then continued. "Anyway, I should let you go to bed. You can get up whenever you want tomorrow. G'nite." He game me a pat on the shoulder and left, leaving the door open so I could see some of the room. I found the bathroom and turned on the light in there, and then closed the main door. I heard the sheets of a bed rustle, followed by a deep breath, and a few thuds as Lance tossed in bed. I stood still, closing the door so that just a sliver of light came into the rest of the room. I managed to find my suitcase on the far end of the room, and opened it, trying to make sense of my previous packing job. OK, there were my pajamas, and there were my toiletaries...glass, check. Contact stuff, check. I grabbed my stuff and headed into the bathroom, closing the door. I prayed that the water wouldn't be too loud. I always took a shower at night, and I wasn't about to break out of that habit, even though it was 2AM and I was ready to fall asleep. Sort of. The whole deal with my rooming with Lance was still on my mind. I mindlessly took care of my contacts while I thought about the whole thing, replaying each scene. I had met him at the mall on a literal run in, and hadn't even recognized him at first. That could have been point one for me, when I didn't freak. Then protecting him from the girls, point two. Inviting him to stay at my place, point three. Shopping later that day, point four. Accepting his invitation to go on tour, point five. Accepting my job to introduce them, point six. Despite all these points, I never found the point where I had revealed anything about my sexuality. And I hated stereotyping people, but his advance on me seemed rather stereotypical, you know, the one where gay men advance on any cute, warm male human. He hadn't used my computer, so he couldn't have seen the one X-rated picture a friend had sent me. Nothing in my room revealed it, and I acted perfectly straight. No one had ever questioned me, or at least, I didn't think so. My friend Kat, my "adopted" sister, had once asked me, and when I responded "No," she said something along the lines of "Didn't think so." She also made perfectly clear her doubts on some people, so I guess I had never revealed anything. Could he have taken my friendliness to be flirting? I didn't know, once again. In the matters of love and flirting and dating rituals, I was completely clueless. The summer before I had fallen into that trap, supposedly flirting with a gay friend. So I lied from the previous sections. I had questioned my sexuality a year earlier, so in essence, it was an ongoing struggle. Maybe I was just curious? My contacts clean and soaking, I stripped and stepped into the shower. The one good thing about most good hotels is an excellent shower head. You know, the one that just pours water out like none other. Gets you nice and clean, and VERY relaxing. Apparently Jive had spared no expense when setting up their cash cow, because the shower was great. I had managed to remember to bring my own shampoo, but alas, it was sitting in my suitcase. But Lance had apparently already taken a shower, because two shampoo bottles were sitting on the side of the tub, under the towel rack, which was missing a towel. Weird...two bottles? Blind without my glasses, I picked them up. Selsun Blue and Pantene Pro-V Two in One. Selsun Blue? Dandruff? Euw...or not. Maybe he just liked the way it cleaned. Luckily, my usual shampoo was the Pantene. I don't think he'd mind if just borrowed a bit. Besides, I doubt he'd even notice. Ten minutes later, I was out of the shower getting dressed for bed. I glanced at my watch on the sink. 2:45. Oh god, I was going to be dead to the world til about noon the next day. Oh well, JC had said that I could sleep til whenever I wanted, and if I remembered correctly from interviews and appearances and what not, JC and Justin slept LONG hours, so I wouldn't miss anything important. I gathered my stuff and turned out the light to the bathroom, plunging everything into pitch dark again. Damn it, I can't find my suitcase! Arms full of junk, I turned the light back on again, found my suitcase, and dumped everything on top of it. I flung my towel over a chair, tried to memorize where everything was, returned to the bathroom and turned out the light. I managed to get to bed with minimal injury, having stubbed my toe only once on a dresser. Still, that hurt like anything! I crawled into bed, trying to sleep with the sound of Lance snoring lightly. Ugh, if there was one thing that kept me up, it was snoring. Between Lance and I, we'd have perfect conditions for anyone to go to sleep! Luckily, it WAS light and I was dead tired, so I fell asleep rather quickly. I was awakened by a dreadfully bright light and noise coming from the TV. I groaned, covering my head with my pillow, trying to drown everything out. "Rise and shine," came a voice from the foot of my bed. Who was that? Where was I? Man, I really needed to stop forgetting where I was. It wasn't a good habit. I heard the rustle of clothes against skin and a crack coming from a joint through the pillow. Deep breathing noises. Why didn't these pillows do anything for the noise? I finally remembered where I was, in New York City, touring with Nsync, and rooming with Lance Bass. Ugh, Lance. Did I really want to deal with him? My mind was foggy, the wheels not turning fast enough to even get me semi-awake. "Lance," I croaked. "What time is it?" "Eight thirty," he replied in a rather chiper bass. "EIGHT THIRTY?" I sat bolt upright in bed, pissed. Everything was blurry, thanks to the fact that my glasses still sat on the night stand, but I could make out a form on the floor doing either sit ups, crunches, or some sort of stretch. I grabbed one of three pillows on my bed and chucked it at him. "You woke me up at eight thirty?! YOU woke up at eight thirty? Why the hell are we up at eight thirty? I didn't get to sleep until three this morning, and I was dead tired!" "Uh-" "I tried to keep the room dark for you last night so you could sleep! The least you could do for me is to let me sleep! Y'know, maybe keep the TV off, curtains drawn?" Was he doing this to intentionally piss me off? If he was, it was DEFINITELY working. I collapsed back into bed, burying me head under the blankets. I tried to fall back asleep, but it wasn't working. He had gotten me too worked up, and now the adrenaline was flowing. I heard him get off the floor and walk to the beds, and the squishing sound of the mattress told him that he had sat down on his bed. "Listen, Mark?" he started. I made a grunting noise, head still beneath the covers. "I'm sorry about this, I didn't know that you woke up that easily. I'm used to rooming with JC and Justin, and those two sleep like logs. Nothing can get them up. Especially since you tried to not bother me last night when you came in, and now I'm treating you like this. And..." His voice trailed off, and a rustle told me that he was shifting positions on the bed. "And what?" I asked, sounding muffled under the covers. "And especially the way I treated you last night, I feel bad. I'm sorry, about everything." I stuck my head out from under the covers and looked at the blurry image of him. A big mass of brown where his head was told me he was looking away. As much as I wanted to hear this, it was way too early for any heavy conversations. My brain was still in sleep mode, but the adrenal glands apparently said "not anymore." "I mean, I really like you," he continued. "But I shouldn't have done that, and then I took it out on you and your friends even though it was my fault." He turned his head and looked at me directly, or at least, I thought he was looking at me directly. "So I'm sorry, for last nights attitude, for trying to impose on you, for trying to...for trying to kiss you." He looked away again, turning his head. Good, it was out. The whole deal about last night was out. Or at least, some of it was. I wasn't sure, just because my brain still wasn't functioning, although it was slowly restarting. But now I wasn't sure how to respond. Should I be angry? Forgiving? Reveal that I felt the same way? But I replayed his last few comments in my head. "I really like you"? In a romantic way? Or was kissing a common practice among southerners for saying "Hey, buddy!" I sat up a little more, and was about to speak when there was a knock at the door. Damned timing. "Who is it?" he called. "Yo, Lance! It's me, Chris!" Lance left the bed and opened the door, leaving me there in a state of preparedness that had suddenly left. But I brought about the forces again, and steeled myself, knowing that I HAD to tell him what I thought right now, otherwise I'd never get around to doing it for whatever reason I could think of. "Yeah?" "You wanna come down to the gym with Joey and me?" "Uh, sure, I guess." "Cool, grab your stuff and let's go!" I knew that this was when to act. "Hey, Chris?" I called out. "Hey! Our new member's awake! Great!" "Yeah, no thanks to you or Lance," I responded from my bed. "But can you spare Lance for a few minutes?" This was it. "No prob!" he yelled. "See ya in a few," he said in a quieter voice, speaking to Lance. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves, frayed after everything that had happened and only five hours of sleep. I heard the door to the room close, and Lance padded back into the room. I put my glasses on so I could look at him this time. "What's up?" he asked, sitting on the bed. I noticed that he too was wearing glasses. Well, the wonders of contacts! "Well, before we were interrupted," I said, drawing more air. "I don't know how to say this." I swung around and sat on the edge of my bed, looking at him across the gap between our beds. "Last night, after the concert, uh, I was just kinda shocked, you know? And plus, I had a little fling with someone else that started in the same way, but there was really nothing behind it from my perspective." Suddenly one of my deep secrets was out, but the odd thing was, it just kept coming, flowing out, words one after another, becoming faster than the first few words. "The tour that I kept talking about, the one from last year? Well, unknown to me, a friend that I didn't know was gay thought I was flirting with him, and he tried to kiss me, and me being naïve and new to the whole deal, didn't resist. He loved me greatly, but it was based a lot on physical attraction, and I felt nothing for him. We had some mild sexual activity, nothing major. But it ruined our friendship after everything, and..." "Whoa, whoa!" he said, putting his hands up. "So in other words, you don't hate me?" I was taken aback. "How could I hate you? You invited me on the opportunity of a lifetime! I like you Lance, as a person. You're incredibly nice, friendly, and I like hanging around you. You make me feel at ease, and I feel that I could tell you anything. And the rest of the group is great too. They're all really friendly and have tried to do everything to assimilate me into the group. But," I said, taking another deep breath. I knew that this question was inevitable. "Are you gay?" "Me? I...I guess I am. Y'know I'm always with some girl here or there, even though I don't date. Well, I did, several times, but I've never really felt anything. But I never felt anything for guys either, until I met you. So if you ask me if I'm gay, I don't know. Are you? Wait, after what you described to me, I guess I know." He looked down at his hands. "No, Lance, it's not like that." I had to get this clear between us. Hell, for me! I still wasn't sure myself. I looked at him, trying to make eye contact. "That experience, I just sorta got pulled into it. He was so...overbearing and aggressive, and I was confused. I..." I lost my train of thought. I didn't know what to say to him. I had no words forming in my head, no words forming in my mouth. It wasn't working. I tried again. "I'm not gay, at least, not 100%. I mean, I find some girls attractive, but I always base everything more on personality than looks if I want to become really good friends. I mean, look at me! I'm not all that attractive. I can't afford to be too choosy when it comes to looks. But I'm a nice person, so that's what I go for. I realize that under the surface there's always another person there. And with you, I've found it. Actually, I've found both yous. I like you, inside, and I like you, outside. But for now, I just want to be friends, k?" There, I had said it. For the first time in my life, I had unloaded a lot of stuff in verbal communication. But the part that has always made me afraid of speaking was yet to come - the response. It was now my turn to look at my hands. Lance was silent for a few moments, having never looked up. I looked up in the silence, at the same time that he raised his eyes to me, and we made contact. "So...that thing last night?" "Lance, I told you already. I was just scared. I rushed into the last one, and it wasn't fun. It's nothing against you. It's more of my fault. Don't blame you. I want to be with you, I like you. Hell, I LOVE you. You make me feel...something I've never felt before. That first time we met, in the mall? I felt something, but I didn't know what it was." He launched himself across the three feet between our beds and enveloped me in a hug. "Mark, I'm sorry," he said. This was one of those hugs that didn't have pats involved, and I felt safe. "Sorry for what?" I asked. "For everything. Can we start over?" He pulled back and looked at me square in the eye. "Definitely." I moved backwards a bit, and stuck out my hand. "Hi, I'm Mark. I'm a confused child, and I like you a lot." He laughed and took my hand, shaking it. "Hi, I'm Lance. I'm confused too, but I like you a lot." "Much better!" I said, smiling. The smile on his face started to fade, and the look in his eyes gave me some concern, making me lose my smile as well. "So where does that leave us?" he asked. "How 'bout friends, for now?" "Deal." "So, as my first act as your new friend, I'm reminding you that you have to meet Joey and Chris in the gym." "Oh, no! I forgot about them!" He jumped to his feet and ran around the room like a recently beheaded chicken. He started grabbing clothes out of his suitcase, throwing them onto his bed. When he was content with what he had chosen, he started changing, in the room with me still there. Not that I minded, but I felt that decency required me to check with him. I cleared my throat while he was changing shirts. "What?" he said, looking up at me and throwing on a shirt. "You gonna change in here?" "Do you mind? I mean, I was figuring that since you're used to shared dressing rooms and what not..." "No, I don't care. As long as you don't get naked." I said this just as he pulled off his pajama pants. He blushed, trying to pull them back up, turning around to face away. "Nice ass," I commented snidely. He grabbed his boxer briefs off the bed and slid them on. "Let's get changing codes straightened after I go to the gym, 'k?" he said. He stepped into mesh shorts, then slid on socks. "Fine, whatever." I plopped back on my bed, looking at the ceiling. "Hey, you wanna join us?" he asked as he tied his sneakers. "What, a morning work out?" "Yeah." "Are you kidding? That's crazy, getting up and sweating the first thing in the morning? Besides, I'm not changed, and I haven't put my contacts in yet." "C'mon, it'll be fun. You'll get to see Chris with his bed head. And besides, I don't have my contacts in yet either. Then we can shower after the workout." After a pause, he quickly added, "Separately, of course." I sneezed seven times in a row, my usual signal that I was now awake. "Bless you," he said. I shook my head, clearing it. "Well, those sneezes are my indication that I'm awake. I guess. Gimme a few moments to change." "No problem." He leaned back on his bed while I got out of mine and rumaged in my suitcase, a huge mess after the packing job and the dark unpacking. I found a suitable t-shirt, grabbed my standard issue shorts, briefs, socks, and walked to the bathroom. "You're changing in there?" he called. "Yeah," I replied. "OK, well, I mean...never mind." What was he getting at? I thought we had decided that at this moment we were just friends. I closed the door and quickly got changed. Then I realized that my clunky glasses weren't suitable for any sort of physical activity. "Lance?" I called through the door. I washed my hands. "Yeah?" Maybe it was just my imagination or the acoustics of the bathroom, but he sounded awfully close to the door. "Can you grab my contact stuff off of my nightstand? Just the blue bottle and the case." I waited a few moments, and then a knock came at the door. "Come in," I said. Lance opened the door and walked in, bearing my requested items. "Thanks," I said, taking them. I started to pop them in while he stood and watched. A minute or two later, I blinked rapidly, making sure they were in properly. I washed the case, all with him still standing there, just watching me, silent. "OK, I'm set." I wiped my hands on the towel by the sink and headed out of the bathroom. Before I got very far, I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him. "What?" "Mark, I was just hoping...that..." He trailed off again, looking at the floor. "What? You were hoping what?" "Nothing." He pushed by me, leaving the room. "Coming?" he asked from the hallway. "Yeah." As I joined him in the hallway, I caught the last few bars of "I Drive Myself Crazy" coming from his mouth. I know, I said that I had been anti-boyband and teeny-bopper, but I had heard the song and seen the video on MTv enough times to know it. "I drive myself crazy wanting you the way that I do." Now what did that mean? Unfortunately, that was also the way I was feeling at that moment. I wanted him, as more than a friend, considering everything. But taking my past experience into consideration, I managed to convince myself that this was a better idea. "So, what are we doing there?" I asked, jumping onto his back and flinging an arm around his shoulder. Just a slight reach, nothing much. He was taller than me. Or at least, that was what all the bios said. I realized that he wasn't that much taller now that he was wearing sneakers. I saw a smile appear on his face at my enthusiasm and contact. "Usually we just do a little treadmilling or stair climbing, and then some light free weights. All that dance practice is usually enough." "Cool. Is dance really that physically exhausting?" I had done choreographed numbers before, but they were always simple ones. Movement was a more accurate term. They were easy and required minimal effort. "Cuz I'm considering taking dance classes when school starts to satisfy the gym requirement." "Well, I guess it depends on what you do and how complex it is. Darrin's choreography is intense. I'll teach you some moves later, just to let you see what it's like." "Cool! I've always wanted to learn some. You should see me and my friends at school dances. Either doing interpretive dance of pop songs or trying to imitate the proper dance moves." He chuckled as we stopped at the elevators. I disengaged my arm from him and pushed the call button with my other hand. I looked him up and down. He caught my survey, and a look of wonderment came onto his face. "What?" "How tall are you?" "Uh...well...what do you think?" "Uh, 5'10" without shoes." "Yeah, that's right. I always put down 5'11" in my bios though." "Why?" The elevator arrived and we entered, and Lance pushed L. "I want to be taller." "What? Why? I think 5'10" is perfect! I'd like to be 5'10" without shoes! I'm only 5"8". Or 5'9", depending how you measure." "Well, because...I dunno. I just have like this height complex. I guess it's because everyone in my family, or at least, the guys, are pretty tall. And so are the other members of the group." "Oh. Well, I like you the way you are." "Thanks." The elevator dinged open at the main floor, and we headed for the gym. We were in silence for most the way, which was odd, because I had much more that I wanted to say. Like how much I loved him, how much I needed him, not just for romance, but for other reasons. How much I looked up to him as a role model, although I barely knew him. I guess the label booked this hotel often, because Lance led me straight to the gym without a moment of confusion. I could see the other two members working on the treadmills through the glass door. Lance pulled it open. "Yo, Lance! Wassup?" panted Chris. "Hey, you brought the newbie too! Cool!" Newbie? Since when I was a "newbie?" Did he know my name? "Hey Chris, Joey. Yes, I brought the "newbie" with me because we woke him up from his peaceful slumber." He emphasized "newbie," giving it a distasteful sound. Good for him! "Oh, is he another Justin?" asked Joey. His magenta tipped hair bounced as he ran. Only a few more inches were left. It looked like they were about to become history. "Yes. Next time, don't wake me up!" I said. Hey, I had to get myself into the conversation! "Whoa! He speaks in a normal voice!" came Chris's surprised remark. "Nice hair," I jabbed back. His hair, usually a semi-mess, was completely wild. If you could shrink yourself down to the size of a lice, it would be denser and more messy than the densest and messiest of rainforests. Just brown, not green, and the water wouldn't be rain, it would be sweat. "Hey, don't dis the hair!" he cried. He tried to smooth it out by running his fingers through it, but it didn't work. His momentary distraction sent him off of the treadmill into a heap on the floor. The three of us laughed as he struggled to get up. "Don't mess with the newbie," I quipped, grinning smugly. Lance patted me on the shoulder, saying "Nice job." I hopped onto a vacant treadmill and started it up. I was incredibly out of shape after the summer, so I kept the pace slow, just a fast walk. Lance jogged on the treadmill beside me. "So, you think you're up to the dance lesson later?" "Definitely. But do you think I should be taking them from you? After all, you are a self-confessed "worst dancer in the group."" I glanced at him to see how he would react. He looked a bit hurt. Oops. "Hey, but I also spent many extra hours with Darrin, so I'm not that bad!" "So you're better than what you did in the "It's Gonna Be Me" video? You were a bit different from everyone else, y'know." "I don't know! You've probably seen the video more times than I have! I don't have time to watch TV, so I have no idea if I'm off or anything. Besides, nobody told me!" "It's ok! Chill before you get a sprain or something!" "Hey look! We're on TV!" shouted Chris, pointing to the television hanging in the corner. The guys had tuned it to MTv, and Making the Tour with Nsync was being rerun. I had seen it before, of course, but apparently they hadn't, for three of eyes were suddenly glued to the screen. Once the intro credits were finished, the comments began to fly, and they continued throughout the thirty minutes, even during commercial breaks. "Oh my god, JC looks like a freak!" "So do you!" "Ugh, do I sound that bad?" "Why am I swaying back and forth?" "OK, that was just STUPID!" "What are we DOING?" I tuned them out, walking with my own thoughts in my head. Perhaps I was letting my fears interfere with my heart. Was that right? Was that the right way? Just because I hadn't experienced love before didn't mean that I should shy away from every opportunity. In fact, just the contrary. If anything, I should be trying to find it, so I could feel what it was like. The thing was, I knew that this was it. There was just a connection, and obviously Lance had felt it. And I had felt it too, back when I first helped him off the tile floor of the mall. I had simply shut myself off after that - that wasn't true. The truth was that I had allowed my dream of going around with celebrities get in my way. I was more intent on getting the chance to tour with Nsync, not realizing, or possibly forgetting, that the only reason why I was able to get such a deal was because of that connection, that spark. I realized that what I had heard from Lance as we left the room was true. Only that last night, I had been clouded over by anger, or disgust, or...no, not disgust. Not anger either. Fear, and concern for him. The song was so fitting. Although I just barely knew it, I could recall the chorus. I lie awake I drive myself crazy Drive myself crazy thinking of you Made a mistake when I let you go, baby I Drive myself crazy Wanting you the way that I do Ok, so I hadn't let him go. Or had I? Had I let him go last night? And was had I been lucky enough to reclaim him? And should I tell him how much I needed him? I knew that if I decided to do that, I would be admitting to the fact that I too wanted it to be more than just friends, more than even just friends "with privileges." I needed him, not as a lover, but as a confidant, as someone who could give me all the love I needed, and someone who I could return that love to. Of course, I was still confused by this whole "love" deal, but I had a funny feeling that the butterflies in my stomach each time I saw him and the times that I had just wanted him to be there were a clear indication. At least, I was pretty sure. Not only that, but he'd also be filling in a role that I needed, even though he was just four years my senior. Before I could continue, my train of thought was broken as I suddenly couldn't keep up with the treadmill. I shot off the back, landing on my hands and knees. I heard laughter, and looked up to see Joey standing at the controls of the treadmill. Lance and Chris were also laughing. I could feel my ears start to burn. And I thought they were my friends! "Sorry dude, but we couldn't get your attention!" chuckled Joey. "How 'bout next time stopping the thing instead of speeding it up?" I replied sarcastically, picking myself off the ground. To add to the insult, none of them moved forward to help me up. Grr. "OK, fine," he said in a mock dejected tone. Damn him, the joker. "Anyway, we're done," said Lance. Ooo, his voice. Always that smooth bass, I just loved it. "So unless you want to continue to sweat in here, c'mon." He headed for the door, Chris not far behind him. I followed them, walking next to Joey. We chatted lightly for the walk to the elevator and the ride to our floor. Lance and I left them at their door, and we continued down to our room, just two doors down. But since we were staying in quasi-suites, the space between doors was much larger. We entered the room, and headed for the beds, sitting down on the edges, facing each other. I glanced at my watch, which I had forgotten to bring with me. 9:30. YUCK! I noticed the silence, which was disconcerting, and looked up to see Lance staring at me. "What?" I have a problem with people staring at me, in case you haven't noticed by this point. "Just noticing how cute you are," he said with a goofy grin on his face. Oh god, not another one! This is what my last "fling" had started as. But I decided to give him a chance, because this time I felt something for Lance. "Oh. You're not too shabby looking yourself." I tried to downplay this whole complimenting thing. He took my cue, and stopped staring. "Anyway," I continued. "Who's got shower first?" "Uh, doesn't matter to me." "Ok, fine, I'll go first." I grabbed my stuff, showered, changed, and came out. Lance was lying on his bed watching TV and working on some papers. "All yours," I said. He grabbed his own stuff and headed in. I watched the TV, flipping through various channels. I watched, but only with my eyes and not my head. My mind was thinking. A dangerous thing, but I realized that this was essential if I wanted to go anywhere. Aside from such situations, I must recommend not thinking. It saves a lot of time, and prevents maladies like stress and worry. OK, advice aside, I knew that it was time. I just had to wait for Mr. Superstar to get out of the bathroom. All this activity before noon during summer, though, was definitely odd. Next time, I room with JC or Justin, the sleepers! The door finally opened, and out stepped Lance, dressed rather sporty with a collared shirt and khaki pants. His hair was back in its trademark spike, and his glasses were gone. He looked like the Lance the rest of the world knew. He set his stuff down on the bed and proceeded to put everything away neatly. No wonder everyone relied on him to get all the business done! "Lance? Can we talk?" "What's up?" He finished putting his stuff away and sat on the bed. Why we kept using the sleeping area for talking instead of the sitting area was beyond me, but it worked. I steeled myself. "I - I think I'm ready." I just hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. "For what?" "To go beyond 'just friends'".