Date: Thu, 15 Feb 2001 00:54:17 EST
From: Faradhi269@aol.com
Subject: for-justin's-love-12

*This story is a work of fiction.  It doesn't indicate the true sexual
orientation of the characters involved, nor does it state for a fact that I
even know the characters involved.  As always, questions, comments,
concerns to Faradhi269@aol.com.  Flames will be ignored.  Sorry for being
so long, but I needed to really think for a while.*

	I looked at my computer.  "Well, that's one of my mistakes," I told
myself out loud.  On my journal, I looked at the last entry I'd written
back in the summer.  "He looked startled, and then to my surprise, his eyes
took on a look of pain and he walked away."  My eyes welled with tears.  -I
shouldn't have said that-I thought.  -I shouldn't have let him go like
that.-
	In the months since then, my life had gone to hell.  Nick had been
hurt by me, although I didn't intend to hurt him, and he wouldn't even try
listen to me apologize.  JP hadn't found anything for me, and so I said
good-bye to Nick, packed up my things and went back to St. Louis before my
trip to New York for the convention.  The convention lasted a whole week
and, while interesting, was a flop for me since I got almost no recognition
whatsoever.  Disappointed, I went back home and got a job working retail
until school began in New York.  Justin called a few times, sorry he didn't
see me to talk more, so I got his number and I told him what was going on.
He said he'd try to talk with Nick and work things out and call me back.
Three weeks after that final call, I'd still not heard from him.
					***

	I called him again around the middle of August.  I knew he was back
on tour after a short rest in July, but I had to know what was going on.
Lance picked up the phone.
	"Hello?"
	"Lance?"
	"Who is this?  How did you get this number?"
	"Lance, it's Ryan.  Remember me?"
	"Oh, sure.  Haven't heard from you in a while.  What's going on?"
	"Actually, I was trying to get hold of Justin.  Is he there?"
	"No, he's rehearsing his dance combination right now.  That's why I
picked up."
	He paused for a few seconds.  "Is something wrong?"
	"Well," I stopped, debating whether I should involve him in this or
not.  "Do you know if Justin has talked with Nick Carter recently?"
	"Nick?  Sure he has.  They talk all the time.  Every day, in fact,"
he added wryly.  "I don't know what's going on with those two, man.  They
barely acknowledged each other until this summer."
	I was crushed.
	I knew what was happening.
	I also knew that I had to stop it.  To right the wrongs, quickly.
	"Hmmm... well where're you guys at right now and when's the
concert?"
	"We're in Dallas, and it's tomorrow night."
	"Damn.  How 'bout the next place?"
	"I'm assuming you want to come see us," he joked.
	I snorted.  "Screw your music.  I just wanna talk to you all," I
kidded.
	"Screw our music," he falsettoed.
	I laughed.  "You know I'm kidding.  But I would like the
opportunity to talk with you guys.  Especially Justin.  Something weird is
going on, and I'm caught right in the middle of it."
	"You know we normally don't do this, Ryan."
	"I do.  If you really don't want to help me on this one, Lance,
don't.  I'll find a way to do it anyway.  It'd be faster and more painless
with help, though," I added.
	There was silence.
	"PLEASE, Lance," I pleaded.  (How pathetic of me.)
	"Ok.  We're going to be in San Diego in two weeks.  I'll set up
some backstage passes for you at the arena.  Friday night, September 12th.
I hope this works out.  It'll be cool to see you again, anyway."
	"Thanks a lot, man," I said, relieved.
	"No problem.  Oops.  Gotta go.  My break's over.  See you in a
couple of weeks."
	-Here we go-I thought.  -How in God's name to I do this?- Then
another thought hit me.  -What if they don't care about me?  What if Nick's
still mad?-

	Still, I didn't have school until October, after all.  What did I
have to lose?  So I called my dad's travel agent and set up a flight to San
Diego.  I'd never been there before, and I was looking forward to it,
despite what I was there to do.  I made sure the return flight was two days
later, so I could prolong the stay if necessary.  If not, I could probably
transfer the flight to a day earlier, so that would work, as well.

	I got everything ready and began to consider my arguments for Nick
and Justin.  If they had somehow ended up together, fine.  Great.  I would
be happy for them, but if they were completely ignoring me or were no
longer interested in being friends with me, then that would have to change.

	The time approached very quickly for me, since I was so
anxious/worried about what was going to happen.  Finally, the day arrived.
I got to the airport, grabbed a cab to the hotel, showered, changed, and
took another cab to the arena where the concert was going to be.  I got
there about three hours before the concert was scheduled to begin, but
there was already an enormous line of teenage (and some older) girls and
their parents waiting to get in.  I meandered over to the ticket booth and
said that there was supposed to be a ticket waiting for me.  I gave my
name, and the lady said that there was a pass waiting for me.  She handed
me the plastic tag, and I put it on.  Then, I sauntered (I have to admit I
loved that part) past all the people and walked through the gate, as the
security guards let me through.  I headed backstage to find where the guys
were probably warming up.  After about ten minutes of wandering around, I
heard them laughing and talking through a door.  I walked up to it,
knocked, and waited.
	Lance opened the door and smiled.  "You're late, man," he joked.
He opened it wider and let me in.  Everyone turned to me and smiled.
	"Who ordered the escort," I asked, acting bored.  "C'mon, I don't
have all day," I urged, striking a bad suggestive pose against the
doorframe.
	They looked a little confused for a second before Joey and Chris
began to laugh hugely.  JC and Lance followed suit, but Justin gave me a
strange look and then smiled briefly.  I noticed the look, and I winced
inside.  It really hurt.  I didn't know why it hurt, but it was severe,
nonetheless.
	Why did it hurt?  I didn't even know what the look meant.
	But I was-and am-an actor, so I didn't let it show.  I wouldn't be
a friend to everyone if I started weighing them down with my emotional
baggage before a show, after all.
	"Actually, I just wanted to tell you all to break a leg, and I'll
come back after to chill if it's ok with you."
	They thanked me for the well-wishing and said it was fine and they
were happy to see me again.

	The concert was great.  As always, their ability to sing and dance
at the same time without collapsing from exhaustion amazed me.  I laughed
at the booty-shaking choreography for "Just Got Paid," since the screaming
crowd intensified their volume three hundredfold.  I shook my head
ruefully.  Not that I could really blame them.

	After the performance, I waited outside of the dressing room for
the indication that they were ready to hang out for a while.  I had a CD
player and headphones for the wait (I'd been through this before, after
all), and sat back to listen to my copy of "The Scarlet Pimpernel" to
decide what song I wanted to sing from the show for my school.
	The good ole question and answer segment came again.  How in God's
name could they put up with it so graciously?  The questions were so inane,
and all were delivered by a bunch of sweaty, generally overweight,
prepubescent girls.  Come on!  Anyway, to get back on track, I waited until
the throng left and, at a wave from Chris, turned off the Discman and went
back to talk to everyone.
	"Great show guys," I congratulated them to start.
	"Thanks, Ryan," JC answered.
	"Yeah, thanks," Lance, Chris and Joey agreed.
	"Thanks," Justin muttered just a little after everyone else.
	We all looked at each other, a strange awkward feeling descending
over the gathering.  Lance broke the silence.  "So, what have you been up
to, Ryan?"
	I smiled gratefully at him.  "Not too much.  Working to save up
money for school, trying to get some acting work here and there.  Not any
success yet, but I figured it was worth a shot.  And it's fun, so why not?"
	"It'll come, man," Joey said.  "Usually it just takes time."
	I snorted.  "Not for everyone," I retorted, pointing to Justin and
JC.  "They got in young."
	"Yeah," Chris agreed, "and look what happened to them!"
	We laughed a little since it's always fun to poke fun at Justin,
and getting JC is a bonus.
	"So, what brings you all the way here," Chris asked next.  Now I
felt like I was being interviewed!  But I figured they just wanted to be
polite and act interested.  I glanced at everyone, and they seemed
generally interested, from what I could see, so I just shrugged.  "I wanted
to see you all again.  I mean, I know we aren't, like, the best friends or
anything, but I got along better with you guys than I have with anyone else
in the past few years," I blurted.  "Oh crap!  Forget I said that."
	They all gave me a weird look that said "What the hell did that
mean?"
	"I'm just a little introverted, that's all.  I took a gamble when I
came to meet you guys, and it worked out.  Not the way I thought it would,
but I think even better, 'cause it meant that we could maybe be friends.
And I wanted to keep tabs on YOU.  What've you been up to?"
	Lance, apparently deciding to drop the awkward moment before
answered in a level voice.  "Touring."
	"That bad, eh," I tried to joke.
	They smiled.  "It's not that bad," Justin-speaking for the first
time-replied.  "We've just been on the road for a long time."
	"Yeah, I know," I smiled, trying to make him feel at ease.
	He squirmed a little.  "Uh, I'm gonna go get something to drink.
Guys?"
	There were shouted orders from the others ranging from Coke to beer
to a martini.  (I really hoped Chris was joking.)  Justin nodded, and began
to head out.  I stood up, too.  "I'll go with you.  I can help you carry it
all."
	He started to object, but saw everyone looking at us, and just
shrugged.  "Sure."
	As we went into the small portable kitchen-like area that had been
set up, I spoke in a low voice.  "Actually, I came because I needed to talk
to you, Justin."  He looked stricken.  "But I figure you already knew
that."
	"Ryan, I-" he began.
	I held up a hand, silencing him.  My mind was screaming at me, but
I knew what was going on and what I really needed to do.  I swallowed.
"Justin, I don't know why things happen the way they do, and I will always
have a special feeling for you, but I don't think that things would've
worked out.  We don't know enough about each other, and whatever we tried
would be blocked by our perceptions that other people may have given us."
He looked downward.  I went on, "I think I know what's going on between you
and Nick.  I don't know why or if he's still upset at me, but I'm glad
you're a friend who can be there for him."  -Or are you even more?-I
thought.  "All I can say is, I hope that we can still be friends, and I
hope you tell that to Nick when you talk to him next."
	His eyes were glistening a little, making me very uncomfortable.
I'd been trying to fight the tears that were threatening to show since I
started talking, and I couldn't stand to see him cry.  I turned and grabbed
a couple of the drinks and went back to where the others were sitting,
talking, and screwing around.  I started a game of foosball with Joey, with
Chris cheering for whoever was not in possession of the ball at any given
time.
	Justin came out a few minutes later and sat in silence.  Chris and
JC looked a little concerned and called Joey and Lance over for a brief
discussion.
	"Ryan, we need to have a group meeting.  Would you mind waiting
outside for about fifteen minutes or so?"  JC asked.
	"I can go, guys, really.  Don't let me get in the way."
	"No, no.  You can stay, but we just need to talk privately together
for a few," he responded.
	"No prob."  I turned to leave.  "Uh, could I possibly play that
piano out there while I wait?"
	"What? Sure, sure."  He continued talking quietly to Justin.

	I left the dressing room and went to the piano in the wings.  It
was used for songs like "This I Promise You," etc.
	I can't play very well, but I sat down, playing by ear, and singing
to the completely empty and dark arena.  I kinda liked it, as no one could
hear me, and now I could let my tears flow.  In my mind, I heard the
saxophone riff and started slowly singing:
	"I'll forget you.  The more you stay inside of me, the weaker I'll
grow.  I'll forget you.  Tomorrow, I will turn and let you go!  I'll grow
colder.  I'll lose myself in anything but you now...for there is nothing I
can do now...but forget...
	"I'll forget you.  I won't remember arms that pulled me in soft and
slow.  I'll forget you.  There has to be a way to let you go!  No more
shadows!  No dreams of leaning in the dark above you.  I will forget how
much I love you...any day.
	"But every evening shivers with the chance that you are near, and
every morning whispers 'he is here.'  Each moment is a fight not to rush
into your light.  Not to move closer, but to make you disappear...
	"I'll forget you.  I've got to find the strength to pull away from
your glow.  I'll forget you.  God help me see the way to let you go!  I do
not want you!  And still you steal each breath I'm breathing from me.  With
just a touch...you overcome me.  And I let you.  I will forget you...when I
die.  I will forget you...I will...forget...you..."
	I bowed my head, letting the last echo linger in the empty space
when a voice jerked me from my reverie.  "You've been practicing, Lance
said, walking up to me..."