Date: Thu, 2 Aug 2001 12:23:37 EDT
From: HateMeNY@aol.com
Subject: Industry & Emotion Part 1

Hey guys, its Matt, the author of Front Page Love. Since FPL is in creative
rehab, I've decided to give a second story a whirl. Off the bat, the two
stories seem somewhat similar. Instead of a sixteen year-old media prodigy
and Justin Timberlake, its an almost seventeen year-old
actor/singer/superstar and Lance Bass. As the group (Nsync) gets even
bigger, if possible, Lance seems like such interesting subject matter. I do
not know if he is gay but ala-Magic Eight Ball...all signs point to yes.
Every award ceremony attended with a "friend." Commenting that he's just
been through a "break up," but says nothing else about it...I put two and
two together (in this story anyway: - ) Please, give the story a chance...
the characters are totally different. I'd LOVE feedback. Please contact me
a HateMeNY@aol.com -- 'Njoy! (I know that was horrible, but cute)

P.S.  I violate SOOOOOO many copyrights in this, but its not for sale so
ha-ha corporate lawyers. I claim no ownership or rights of any products,
clothing lines, names, businesses, Hollywood industries (of which there are
many) in this story.

P.P.S.  Some of my facts may not be straight or made up. Open your mind,
lol. (I just don't want people stressing over little details like "Lance's
cell phone case is Dolphin Silver, not baby blue you moron!")



Industry and Emotion


    Jonathan Shayne hung up the phone and smiled. His new film,
"Underground," debuted at number one with a walloping $52 Million dollar
box office. The picture, a retrospect of a shady, underbelly gay society in
Manhattan, had enough star power to light Las Vegas for a week. Jonathan
had lead with supporting cast members Brad Pitt (like a queer 'Don' of the
family), Joshua Jackson, Kerr Smith (the Dawsons Creek Duo), Matthew
Lillard (extremely polished and International Male-clad), as well as Selma
Blair and Mena Suvari (your token lesbians) with one hell of a performance
from Sandra Bullock (playing a tough NYPD detective). Daily Variety called
the picture the "breakout hit of the summer," and a "sure Oscar contender."
Jonathan wouldn't mind an Oscar at sixteen, well, seventeen by the time the
awards ceremony rolled around. Jonathan Shayne was new Hollywood royalty.
He had surpassed the minor leagues of child stars, blew around the
middle-men twenty-something actors, and was a powerful 'name above the
title.'  He had worked his ass off from age fourteen to get his name in
lights and was now reaping the benefits. He had two other huge films aside
from "Underground." "Roman Deliverance," a Speilberg flick about a
Hollywood Lot producing a Roman period piece, as well as "Shadow," a
Hitckcock-esq suspense thriller. Along with his multiplatinum album "Found
and Lost," which had produced three number one hits and a Grammy buzz,
Jonathan was at the pinnacle of success and wasn't leaving anytime soon. He
walked from the kitchen of his spacious Los Angeles loft into the bedroom.
He began picking out an outfit for the premiere of some movie, he wasn't
sure which one. He had an obligation from New Line (the studio releasing
"Underground") to attend a few studio-related functions. Jon didn't care,
it gave him a chance to be seen looking fabulous and to talk about his
third big hit in a row. The sixteen year-old studied himself in the
three-fold floor to ceiling mirrors. He was absolutely perfect. He was
skinny, a trait usually expected from females in Hollywood, but toned just
right. His blonde streaked hair sat loosely on his head, giving him a
dramatic instrument to slick back or fluff out whenever the cameras needed
a fresh angle, which they always did. His tiny waist and semi-broad
shoulders gave him the dimensions of a wet dream, and everyone desired him.
He was obviously gay. The killer fashion sense. The flare for
dramatics. Yet, and the most ironic part, no one questioned it. There was
never a question in any interview about his sexual orientation, nor his
love life. It was like the best kept secret in Hollywood. Jonathan figured
he was too much of a poster boy to be plagued with thoughts of sex. Don't
mistake, Jonathan was a total sex symbol, but everyone looked and never
wanted to touch on the subject. He threw on a pair of black leather Prada
pants and an extra small Versace T. He applied some concealer and lip balm.
His driver called up to his apartment and told him he was at the curb. Jon
grabbed his Dior satchel and scampered off the premiere, already rehearsing
the surprised in his voice. "I was completely shocked, I didn't think
anyone was going to see the movie," he said in a perky voice, hopping into
the limousine.

    Lance Bass smoothed his clothes and stretched. In about thirty seconds
he would have to climb out of the car and face the press at the premiere of
"On The Line," his first film. Why was he so nervous? The press already got
a screening. They all gave it lukewarm-to-stunning reviews. It was
basically a good film, especially for a beginner. Maybe it was because it
was his first big Hollywood event. Maybe because Jennifer Lopez was going
to be there. As well as Christina Aguilera. And all the guys from the
group, as well as Sarah Michelle Gellar and Freddie Prinze Jr.  Lance read
the names straight from the press release. He nearly dropped the paper when
he saw the last name on the list. "Also in attendance, Jonathan Shayne."
His heart stopped. The inspiration for every masturbation fantasy he had in
the past six months was attending the LA premiere. "How do I look?" he
asked his mother, his last resort date. "You look fine now would you stop,"
Diane Bass spat, applying lipstick. He rolled his eyes and went back to his
heart attack. What would he say? Would Jonathan even talk to him? Was he
some hardened industry bitch, or this cute little Adonis who only needed a
good man in his life? Lance felt pathetic. Jonathan probably didn't even
know he existed. Sure he would be familiar with JC. He would most
definitely recognize Justin, but Lance was definitely the wallflower of the
group. He pushed his excitement into his stomach with disappointment and
focused on the task at hand: making the public believe his movie was worth
seeing.

    Jonathan sat at the bar inside the after party, sipping a cocktail. He
talked shop with several other stars, but basically just wanted to go
home. The media totally bombarded him with questions about "Underground."
He felt bad for the stars of "On The Line." The bulk of the attention was
given to Jonathan. He gulped the rest of his drink and headed for the
bathroom.  He would freshen up and work his way out of the event. Any
Hollywood party took thirty minutes to settle into and thirty minutes to
wiggle out of. The doorman swung open the heavy door to reveal the dimly
lit mensroom. Brian McKnight piped through the walls. Jonathan's phone
rang.  He glanced at the caller ID. "Hi Ryan," he said softly. Ryan
Carrington was Jonathan's best friend, who happened to be female. "Hey
babe, how's the party?" she asked. "Fine, I'm trying to leave, call me in
an hour?" She agreed and hung up. Jonathan splashed his face with cold
water and began reapplying all of his makeup. He heard fumbling in a
stall. Jonathan turned an approached it. "Freddie? Are you in there puking?
Sarah's going to be really pissed that you were drinking," Jonathan said,
trying to coax the superstar from the stall. The door opened to reveal a
stranger. Not Freddie Prinze Jr. Someone new. Someone familiar. He studied
the face. Where had he seen it? On the screen at the premiere. It was
Lance. Lance from Nsync. Lance the now-movie-star. "Hi, sorry," Jonathan
cooed.


--Hey guys, I'll send the next tomorrow. Hope you enjoyed it.
FEEDBACK-FEEDBACK-FEEDBACK!!!! HateMeNy@aol.com