Date: Sun, 10 Sep 2000 22:15:52 EDT From: NCC1701DS9@aol.com Subject: every-little-thing-do-8 Hello! Wow! I managed to get a chapter out within about a week...amazing! Well, of course, we only HAD three days of school this week, so I was able to work all night on Sunday and Monday...well. But as school enters it's full mode, the chapters may be coming farther and farther apart. I know, I'm sorry, but I am first and foremost a student, and as much as I love my school, right now I'm really hating it. So yes, between 6 AP courses (I'm sure you all remember/know what Aps are), another SAT to take, various tests, homework, quizzes, auditions, and college apps, I really don't have too much time! For now all my work is also going on a disk so I can work on it at school during my free period, but since it IS lunch and I'm going to get my privilege card sometime soon so I can leave for lunch, which means that I won't work on it! Ay, but yes, that's my life. Student life. Plus, I also have to deal with my mom and everything else. Homecoming is on Saturday, and I have yet to go shopping, my birthday is next Saturday, and I have to plan...yes, happy birthday to me. If I manage to produce another chapter that soon, I'll be shocked! But please e-mail me anyway! NCC1701DS9@aol.com, or IM me there, or IM me at MooToYou42. I like the company! That is, when I'm on, which will probably start declining in time. Yes, so anyway...thanks to my buds out there keeping me company and keeping me sane...Ken, Ryan, Chris, Jeff - da author of Twist of Fate, which so far is incredible, and others. Thanks guys! 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"... "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'". Every Little Thing I Do Chapter 8 By Mahka I said it before I realized what I had said. Too fast, I had let things go too fast. Damn it! It had only been two hours since I had woken up, just a bit more than an hour and a half since we had decided to become "just friends." Damn it! The pause coming from him stretched, and stretched, and stretched. I began to fear that something was wrong with him, and I searched his face for any indication that he had heard me. He was still looking at me, but not actually looking at me. You know, the kind where the eyes are focused but the mind is not? I couldn't take it any more. Me, the one who was never bothered by silence. Interesting how people can changed depending on the situation! "Is that ok?" I paused a bit. He still wasn't responding. Damn it, it had come too quickly! I looked down and away, and started to mumble. I could feel tears begin to sting my eyes. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. That was way too quick. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that, not now, not here. This is the wrong time-" I was interrupted by Lance. "Mark?" I looked up at him, just in time to see him launching himself across the gap for the second time that morning. He tackled me, throwing us back onto my bed. He enveloped me in another hug, a gigantic smile on his face, his green eyes sparkling. I couldn't help but laugh. "I take that as an OK?" "Dude, it's MORE than OK!" "You don't think our "just friends" time was too short?" He pulled himself off of me, straddling me. It looked very funny, and I hoped that nobody would walk in. "No! I tried to ask you earlier, but I realized that it was way too quick, and that I should let you do it at your own pace." "Ha! Cool!" I smiled up at him. I had never made anyone this happy, or at least, I didn't think so. "So what are we now?" "Boyfriend and boyfriend!" That sounded very weird in my ears, but I figured that I should get used to it. He collapsed onto the bed beside me, wrapping me in a hug again and planting a kiss on my cheek. At that moment, Joey walked in, calling out "Lance!" Damn, the door must not have latched properly! "Whoa!" he cried when he spotted us on the bed, arms wrapped around each other. The look on his face was one of pure surprise. "Sorry! Did I interrupt something?" I was at a loss for words, not knowing if I was supposed to tell the truth or cover it up, but Lance saved the day. "No," he said quickly, disengaging himself from me. "We were just wrestling and you know how I am." He shrugged, giving Joey a look that said "It's nothing." "Oh, ok." Joey didn't look completely convinced, but he let it slide. "Anyway, I was just coming by to ask if you guys wanted to join us for breakfast." Lance looked at me, and I gave him a shrug. I really didn't care at this moment. I was a bit on the euphoric side. "Uh, actually, I was going to do a little paper work before eating. I'm not that hungry." "Oh, OK. Well then, I'll see you later." Joey headed for the door, then stopped at the threshold and turned to us. "Oh, and don't kill the newbie, Lance. I don't think Management would be too happy." He turned and left, closing the door behind him. This time I heard the click. Lance dropped back onto the bed beside me, laughing hysterically. "What?" I asked. "Oh, nothing. Just the fact that he bought that story!" He propped himself up on one elbow and faced me. "Usually he's a bit quicker than that, and he knows that I RARELY skip breakfast." "Oh. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, buddy, but he didn't look too convinced there. And besides, I'm hungry!" I was beginning to sound like Justin. No sleep, no food, makes me rather cranky. "Nah, I don't think so." He moved over to his bed and grabbed the room service menu sitting on the nightstand. Why do all hotels put the menu right next to the beds? Do they think that we're going to wake up at 2AM and think "I'm hungry! Let's get room service! But I'm too lazy to get out of bed to get the menu." "So what do you want?" he said, tossing it to me. I quickly glanced at the menu. Eggs, waffles, pancakes, juice, cereal. Typical room service breakfast stuff. "I guess I'll have the New York Breakfast with OJ." "Cool." He picked up the phone and began to dial. "Aren't you going to look at the menu?" I asked. "Hel-lo? It's french toast for me this morning! I'm in a good mood, so why not start off with my favorite food?" He looked away from me as he spoke into the receiver, ordering our food. Wait, I thought. I thought he didn't like having french toast all the time? Or was that a lie? "Food'll be here in about 10 minutes," he said, hanging up the phone. "Really? That quickly?" "Yeah, the hotels usually give us prompt service. Means the waiters get a better tip." He grinned at me, and moved back to my bed, sitting next to me, placing his arm around my shoulder. "So what do we do now?" "Uh." I was at a total loss for words. I thought of different things to talk about, none of them seeming to have any relevance to our current situation. Then it dawned on me. "Why didn't you tell Joey the truth?" He drew back, his attitude suddenly becoming colder. He glanced at the floor, looking very uncomfortable. "I dunno. I guess it's because it's too soon right now, you know, to tell them. We need to get it straight between us first." He chuckled nervously, glancing around the room. "Ha, straight. Now there's a word I'm going to take a new view on." "Aww, Lance. Don't worry, we're in the same boat. I don't know either. I don't think I can tell my mom or my friends. They'd probably freak." I gasped in shock, hand flying to my forehead to give it a good smack. "My mom! I haven't called her yet! Shoot, where's my phone card?" "Oh yeah, we haven't hooked you up with your stuff yet. You'll get that at our meeting later." "Stuff? What stuff?" "Oh, like cell phone, charger, credit card." "Whoa...I get a credit card? What type of strings did you pull for me? And what do I have to do for all this stuff?" "Yes, you get a card. You're part of the band now, and not too many strings were pulled, especially since I requested it. And all you have to do is just be my boyfriend. Actually, regarding everyone else, you just have to be my friend." "Whoa...way cool!" I was completely shocked by all of this, but hey! Why let a good thing go to waste? "I can deal with that! But until I do get my own phone, how am I going to call?" "Here, use my phone." He took his phone from its charger on the table across the room and tossed it to me. It was one of those new phones that were about the size of an audio cassette case. "Thanks." I looked at it, realizing that I had no idea how to operate it. What ever happened to the old phones that looked like a regular cordless phone? "Uh, Lance?" He looked up from some papers he was poring over. "How do you work this thing?" He chuckled in that bass of his. God, it was sooo sexy. And it was mine! Actually, ALL of Lance was mine! I wonder how many girls would kill to be in the position I was in. Probably a million or so. He showed me how to use it, how to dial and everything, and I managed to get through. "Hello?" "Mom? Hi! It's me!" "Oh, hi! How are you doing?" "I'm doing great! They're treating me really well. I'm having SO much fun!" "OK, sounds like you're having fun!" We chatted for a few minutes longer. Everything was short, precise. My mom was never a big phone talker. During this time our food arrived, and Lance dug in with gusto. I hung up on the pretext that our food was here and that I was hungry. She understood me and my deal with food, and with a few "love you"s and noisy air kisses, I hung up. "Like your toast?" I asked with a grin as I joined him at the table. "Yup," he said, his mouth full of toast and syrup. Actually, it came out more like "shhp" but I got the idea from the nod that accompanied the response. I dug into my plate laden with a bagel, eggs, bacon, and potatoes. We ate in silence, just looking at each other across the food. We finished in due time, closer to lunch than breakfast. Whatever, it was food, and now I was happy. I wheeled the cart to the door and left it outside the door. "So," he said. "So," I replied. We continued to sit there in silence. Lance took a deep breath, and leaned forward. "Anyway, I guess we should figure out where we really are." "OK, fine with me." I took a quick mental inventory of our status, and launched into my interpretation of the whole thing. "So I guess we're now officially together. We're not telling the guys, yet. So that means no PDA at all, even with just another member there." "Right. And when we do tell the guys, it'll be with both of us there, and both of us have to agree to it." His tone of voice had changed. It wasn't that smooth, caring tone. It was hard, precise, and I realized that I was now dealing with business Lance. "Oh, and one other thing," he added. "You call me James when we're alone." "Aww, why? I like the name Lance! It's more sexy." I waggled my eyebrows at him, or at least, tried to. He chuckled at my effort, which showed up as a frustrated frown. "Well, it's because all those girls out there want to marry LANCE, whereas you are now the favorite of JAMES." "Oh, I get it! So Lance is the straight one, and James is the gay one. Interesting." I nodded slowly, stretching out the word "interesting" as if I were contemplating the whole deal. "Yeah, pretty much." He laughed, throwing a pillow at me. I threw one back. We were soon engaged in a pillow war, throwing them at each other and occasionally reverting to the old fashioned swing. Items sitting on the dressers and nightstands were knocked off, crashing to the floor. The drapes swung in a mad dance, and the sheets on the bed were pulled apart. Twenty minutes later, we collapsed on the beds, laughing and sweating. The room was a mess, but we didn't care. The TV, which had once faced the beds, now faced the door from one too many hits. I crawled off of my bed, which had acted as a fort during the war, and onto his. I curled up next to him, and he wrapped an arm around me. I felt safe, like a joey within its mothers pouch. Wrapped in an envelope of warmth and love. His skin was soft and smooth, and he wasn't so well built that he was rock hard and uncomfortable to sleep against. He bent his head over and buried his head in my hair, snuggling me. "Mmm," I murmured. I was ready to fall asleep again. Hell, if I could just sleep like this every night for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly happy. Actually, if everything worked out, that just might work. But I was too drowsy to think any further, and was simply content with my current status. I looked up at him, a smile on my face. He looked back with a gentle smile, but behind that, I saw that he was thinking. About what, exactly, I didn't know. I had never been a big brain picker, but I knew that now was the time that I started doing stuff that I had never ever done or even contemplated, especially if I wanted to keep this going. But if Lance was anything like me, which he was, somewhat, I knew that there was a challenge ahead. Luckily, I was too exhausted to continue my line of thinking. It was heavy stuff, and I didn't feel like dealing it at the time. Warm, safe, and comfortable, I drifted off into sleep. ************************* Mark? Yeah? What are you doing? I don't know. What am I doing? I can't see anything. Can you? Yes, I can. You're sleeping with Lance Bass of Nsync, wrapped in his arms. Really? Yes, really. Who are you? I'm you. What? I'm you. Or, another you, in your head. Oh...right. A voice in my head. I get it. Anyway, as YOU can see, I'm trying to sleep here. So please, go away. You are asleep. You're just dreaming. Oh, really? Yes. OK...so why did you bring me here? I've never had a conversation with myself before. Because I want you to think what you're doing through. What do you mean? Look at you, you're still in high school. You've never had a relationship, much less a gay relationship. So? I like him. No, more than like, I LOVE him. That's what I've been feeling all along. You should know that. Do you? Do you love HIM? Do you love James? Or do you love Lance? Huh? What do you mean? You heard me, and you heard him. The girls love Lance. James loves you. Don't you get it? No... Lance is the performance. He's what the fans see, what PR makes him to be. All that stuff he told you back when you first met, that was PR stuff. You knew that. How do I know that you know? Because we are the same, remember? Right...what are you getting at? Now James, on the other hand, is the one behind Lance. He makes Lance, or at least, half of Lance. What you've been told for the past few hours has been coming from James. That aborted kiss? That was James. Lance would never in a million years even try to kiss a guy. James, on the other hand, might. Wait, why don't I know this? You DO. He told you himself, when he asked you to call him James. Because James is in love with you, not Lance. Aahhh...I get it! So you're asking me if I'm in love with the person or with the fame and glamour and stuff that comes off of him. Exactly, Sherlock. Do you know? Or are you confused about that as well? I don't think I even know James all that well, so I can't tell you right now. But you can't say that I'm all about the fame because I didn't even recognize him at first! Yes I can, and I am. But your stupidity has landed us in a rather odd position. How so? You can't possibly ask him all those personal, James questions, now, after you've decided to become a couple. It's not the right situation. You, in your rush, put us here, and I don't like it here. You're here because of your infatuation with Lance. WHAT? No I'm not! I'm here because I actually like Lance, as a person. And I like James too, if that's who was behind getting me on the tour and everything. Why do I say that? Because you know me - I know what goes on behind the scenes, how it's all an act up front, how there's something completely different behind that stage. Yes, but despite that, you have to get this all cleared up. Now, or rather soon. You rushed into this whole thing, only two days. Now get up and do it. But I'm TIRED! I never work out in the morning. GO! ********************** I was being shaken, by what, I didn't know, but I didn't like it. The conversation with myself still rung fresh in my mind. I forced my eyes open, looking around blearily. Damn contacts. Note to self: try not to fall asleep with contacts in. Lance looked into my eyes, mild concern in his eyes. When he saw I was awake, he got off of the bed and sat on the other bed, my bed. "Are you ok?" "What makes you ask that?" I replied. "Well, you were sorta mumbling and talking in your sleep...for all 10 minutes of it, that is." Oh no, had my entire conversation been spoken out loud? If it had, then he knew everything, and I was in deep trouble. Either in trouble or in a deep hole that would take lots of talking and explaining to get out of. Of course, perhaps the main thing in the entire conversation was something that I couldn't explain, because I didn't understand it. The consciousness that I possessed, that represented me, didn't get it. The other consciousness, the other me, didn't explain it, and was ambiguous. Shoot. "I was? What was I saying?" "Something about like "love Lance or James" or something weird like that." He continued to look at me across the gap. "Want to explain?" The look on his face, concerned as it may be, told me that that last comment wasn't a question, but rather more of an order. He cared about me, and I could see that, deep in his eyes, in his body language. In everything he did. But apparently I scared him with my conversation. Oh no. Explaining. I can explain how to draw a hyperbola on a slant, how to draw a Lewis Structure in five seconds. But explaining this? "Lance...James...whichever one of you. I don't know how much you heard, but obviously you heard enough that it worries you." I took a breath, plunging headlong into this thing. Is it just me or have I been taking a lot of leaps lately? "I know that I can trust you. I mean, if not as my boyfriend, than certainly as my friend. So...anyway, the dream was really weird. Generally it was me talking with me. And...oh, I don't know how to say this." I was frustrated, because I didn't know how to say it. I never mastered this communication thing. I looked at the floor, throwing my hands in the air in exasperation. "I give up." Lance moved over next to me and placed an arm around my shoulder. "Hey, it's ok. You were saying something about Lance and James?" I could feel tears begin to well up in my eyes, a first for me in a while. "Yeah, that's what the other me was saying. It was asking me if I loved Lance or James, because Lance is what people and see, the fame and the fortune, and James is what Nsync and his family sees. And...I don't know. I like both of you, because I've seen both of you. But I can't have both of you, at least, not according to that voice." The dam finally overflowed, and a tear rolled down each cheek. I sniffled back, trying to keep this show of negative emotion down, but it wasn't working. Lance pulled me into a tight hug. "Mark, you can have both of us. Lance IS James, and James IS Lance. I don't know what that voice of yours was saying, but whatever it was saying, it's pretty damn wrong. What I said before, about the girls wanting Lance and you getting James? Well, I take that back. The girls can't have Lance either, because I want YOU to have Lance. That persona comes from me. What I've been showing to you this entire time, except for the show, has been me, the combination of James and Lance. If you only have one, you don't have me. And that's what you have. You have me." His words struck me as I realized that he was right. That entire conversation in my head had been wrong, and I had been wrong. About the whole thing. I was getting a whole person, and now it was time for him to get a whole person as well, not just a partial person. But that would be later, if he ever asked. Or if I felt like telling him. No, I couldn't let it be all about me anymore. I had to understand this thing of give and take. From what I had gathered between this little relationship and my other relationship, that was absolutely essential. I had seen many friends break down because there wasn't an equal amount of give and take, and hence the relationship ended. KNOCK KNOCK. "Lance?" A muffled voice came through the door. I looked up from the floor as Lance released me from his hug, and noticed that he too had a tear stain on his cheek. "Yeah?" he called. "You wanna open the door first?" came the voice again. "Oh yeah, oops." Lance smiled sheepishly at me as he left the bed, wiping his cheek. I dried my own eyes, and sat back on the bed, waiting for Lance and the mystery person to return. I heard the click of the latch, the slight squeak of the hinges opened. "Wassup, Scoop?" I recognized the voice instantly as Justin's. The door slammed shut, and soon the two of them were in my company. "Word up, Mark!" "Word," I replied. The mood in the room instantly lightened as this bundle of energy entered. His enthusiasm and attitude was contagious, and I soon found myself out of the deep pit of emotion I had dug. "So what's up?" Lance said as he took a seat on his bed, across from me. Justin leaned against a chair, folding his arms and crossing his legs. Wow, talk about balance! He was dressed casually, in a T-shirt and mesh shorts, sneakers. "Finally drag yourself out of bed?" I looked at the clock. 1:07PM. Whoa, the time had really flown by during that little episode! I guess between all the sighs, hugs, and silence, it had just ticked on by. "Yeah, yeah. From the looks of it, Mark didn't want to be up this early either." "Exactly! But SOMEONE decided to wake me up and then drag me out for a WORKOUT at 8:30 this morning!" I directed a playful evil look in Lance's direction, and Justin laughed. "Hey! Not my fault!" Lance defended his actions, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You don't sleep heavily enough!" "Whatever." "So anyway, I was just wondering," continued Justin. "You guys wanna hit the streets and do some shopping? Maybe some sight seeing? Because we've only got the weekend to see the city, then we've got shows for four nights, including that HBO special. Then after that, we hop the buses down to Raleigh, then we've got a long haul to that postponed date in Texas." "Whoa there! Since when did YOU know our schedule? They don't call me Scoop for nothing!" Lance looked genuinely surprised. That's right, one of his nicknames was Scoop, since he knew what was going on all the time. "And especially this early?" Justin grinned at the shock on his bandmate's face. "Hey! I ain't as dumb as I look!" "Am not, silly, not ain't," Lance corrected. "I may be from the South, but even I know that!" Justin blushed slightly, but his tan was covering it up rather well. "Sure, I guess we'll go, if that's ok with you, of course," he said, looking at me. "Go shopping with two of THE biggest pop stars at the moment? Are you crazy? Of COURSE it's ok! And besides, you promised me a new wardrobe." Ah, ok, now I was getting it. I kept bringing up their fame, and from the look on Justin's face, he didn't like it all that much. Now I understood what the voice was saying. I told myself to watch it next time. "Oh yeah, that's right. C'mon, let's go." Lance grabbed his room key from the nightstand, sunglasses from his suitcase, and a hat. "Uh, shoes?" I reminded him. He glanced down at his bare feet and laughed. "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't want to go into New York City with nothing on!" We both put our shoes on and left the room, with Justin leading the way. "What about JC?" I asked. I don't know! I'm clueless as to what these guys do in their spare time. "Oh, he's gonna work on some music later in the afternoon. He's not quite up yet," Justin responded. "He's ALWAYS working on music, writing it, perfecting it. I guess that's admirable, so dedicated to his craft, but sometimes I wish he'd just come and hang out with us during the day." The elevator arrived, and we descended, leaving the lobby and stepping into the hustle and bustle of New York. Just before we left, however, Lance slipped on his sunglasses and hat, while Justin pulled out sunglasses and a fake mustache. Justin with a mustache looked rather ridiculous, but I guess it made sense. I certainly wouldn't want to be mobbed constantly. We simply talked about this and that, the conversation just flitting about hopelessly. Well, not hopelessly, but you know the kind, the type where the topics just go from place to place. We drifted down the streets, and I was surprised to see that our hotel was practically right on 5th and 42nd, the heart of the city. We traveled up 5th, gliding from store to store. I felt slightly out of place between the two, being the only one without sunglasses or some sort of head accessory, but I shrugged it off after a few minutes. I enjoyed their company, Justin being absolutely crazy, bouncing off every wall he could find. I guess the lack of performance tonight to drain his energy was problematic. Lance and I practically had to hold him down in some stores as he zipped between racks of clothing and souvenirs, grabbing this, touching that, commenting on just about everything. Seeing him go crazy was so amusing that my stomach soon hurt from all the laughing. Lance, too, was laughing, his green eyes sparkling behind the sunglasses. They weren't very dark, but you could tell he was happy if you had removed 90% of his face. We finally stopped for a very late lunch at a little eatery down a street off of 5th. The guys enjoyed eating in the regular crowd, ditching their sunglasses after I pointed out that everybody on the street was a business person and wouldn't care if they were there. Hell, since it was New York, I bet the residents were used to seeing celebrities everyday, just like the residents in Hollywood. The time ticked on by, getting later, as the number of bags we carried slowly grew. I had managed to acquire for myself several new T-shirts, long sleeve T-shirts, button down shirts in some rather wild colors and styles, at least four pairs of pants in different cuts and colors, and even a few socks. Why socks, I had no idea, but Lance and Justin had insisted on getting them, telling me that they weren't going to speak to me for the next week if I didn't. I knew it was a lie, but played along anyway, prentending to be hurt and giving in reluctantly. Lance had bought a few sweaters and pants and a few knick knacks to bring back home, while Justin got so many things from all the stores along 5th that we had to start carrying some of his bags. Shoes were still on my list as 7:45 rolled around. "I'm hungry," said Justin. "Again?" Lance and I replied in unison. We laughed at the odd coincidence, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was more than mere coincidence. "We ate five hours ago!" continued Lance. "I know, but all that walking around has made me hungry." Justin stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, put his bags down, and crossed his arms, pouting. "And if I don't get food soon, I'm going to be what I am in the morning." "Oh, no!" shouted Lance. He scooped up Justin's bags, throwing some in my direction, and started dragging us along. "Let's get food, now!" "What, where, why!" I cried as I was dragged down the street. Justin, on the other hand, was skipping along rather happily, free of his burden. I was clueless as to why Lance was suddenly so scared. "Why are we running?" "Because Justin in a morning mood before breakfast is NOT a happy one!" Lance shouted back. "Oh," I responded. Now I understood. I guess Justin and I really were more alike than I had previously thought. I didn't have the fro, or the looks, or the fame, fashion, or anything else, but I guess at the core level, of our morning habits, we were on equal levels. Maybe it was just because of our similarity in age. "So where are we going?" "Saks Fifth Avenue." "Oh." Wow, ok, some pretty high end stuff here! "Wait, do they have somewhere to eat?" "Oh yeah, they have some pretty good food at their little restaurant, plus a really nice view. And we've been there a few times, so they know the drill." Lance had slowed his pace somewhat, but it was still a pretty fast clip. Justin was looking hungrier and more savage by the minute. "Hey, Lance? How much longer? I think we're about to have a murder on our hands," I said, glancing at Justin. "Right...THERE!" He pointed across the street and started to cross the street at the cross walk. I looked up at the lights quickly, and down the street. The street was clear for a block, a wonder in New York City. The cross lights were on walk for the moment, the traffic lights red. I stepped out into the street a few feet behind Lance, dragging Justin along with me. We looked rather ridiculous, and I'm sure we got a few odd glances, but Justin was going nuts. Either that or he was just putting on an acting job that would earn him an Oscar and an Emmy in multiple categories, say, most dramatic, most comedic. I don't know. It was at that moment that I heard a squeal of tired down the street. I had just entered the crosswalk, and Lance was about a third of the way across. I looked down the street and saw a car careening toward us. He'll stop, I thought. The light's red. Then I noticed that the lights on the car weren't on, and then I heard the sirens and saw blue and red being reflected off of the buildings. Shit, it was a car chase, which probably meant that the car wasn't going to stop. Lance finally looked up when the sirens cut through the air practically next to him. A look of pure horror crossed his face, green eyes wide, lush lips open as he stopped in the middle of the road, turning to face the car. You know the deer in headlights look? Well, instead of deer, think Lance, in no lights. The car continued on its weaving, swerving, incredibly fast path. For a moment, I thought it was in a lane that wouldn't hit Lance. The next moment, I realized that the car was headed straight for him. ------------------------------ Hehe, I'm sorry! I usually don't end with a cliffhanger, nor do I usually write footers. Oh well. I'm not sure where my head went this time...it just sorta went. A little heavy, I know. I'm sorry! E-mail me! Please!