Date: Mon, 4 Aug 2003 23:33:05 -0700 (PDT)
From: Michael Bryan <mzbryan2003@yahoo.com>
Subject: JC and the Actor (Chapter 3)

JC and the Actor, Chapter 3, Copyright 2003
----------
The following story is entirely a work of fiction.  It is not meant to
imply anything about the sexuality or the personal lives of the members of
NSYNC, or any other celebrities mentioned.  If you are underage, or if it
is illegal to read sexually explicit gay material where you live, don't
read this.

Much thanks to those of you have written.  Your comments are very
appreciated and I hope to hear more from you and others in the future.
Send your comments or criticisms to me at mzbryan2003@yahoo.com

Off we go.
----------

Chapter 3

	The next day I had to arrive early at the theater to prepare for
the Sunday matinee.  Following my last encounter with JC, he had asked for
my number, which I gave to him.  He was going to be taping a live, two-hour
event with his band mates at MTV today, and suggested that maybe we could
meet up after he was done, and in between my matinee and evening
performances.  It occurred to me that were I to have a relationship with
JC, a certain level of equality would exist that had never really been
present in my other relationships.  We were both artists, and both
extremely busy.  I wasn't the type of person that would be able to just
follow him around while he promoted his own career.  I had my own fan base,
albeit a smaller one at the moment, and it looked as though within a few
months or years, I too would be criss-crossing between New York and LA,
promoting films.

	But this wasn't a relationship.

	I walked onto the stage, assuming I would be alone.  There was
nothing quite like the feeling of being there with no audience, and I
thought it would be a good place to clear my head.  I was greeted however
by Liza, standing in the center of the stage, looking out toward the
audience.  "Hey Liza," I called.  She didn't answer me immediately.
	"Good morning, Natty," she finally responded, turning to look at
me.
	"Three times the charm," I said, in reference to this being our
third performance.
	"You know something Natty?  I just realized that this was the
theater that I went to for my first Broadway audition.  I had never seen a
theater of this size; theaters weren't exactly on this scale in Wisconsin
you know?"  I nodded my head in agreement.  The ones near where I grew up
in New Hampshire weren't exactly of this scale either.  "All I remember
feeling was absolute terror."  She pointed up to the catwalk above us.  "I
wanted to just climb up there and jump off."  She started laughing at the
memory.
	"Do you remember the play that it was for?" I asked, wondering
about the sudden trip down memory lane.
	"Oh, it was some screwball comedy, I can't remember the playwright,
but I do remember that the play folded in a little over a month.  I guess
that's what they get for not casting me huh?"  She laughed again.
	"Serves them right," I offered.  Something about Liza's tone was
making me uncomfortable.  She had been very quiet since the reviews came
out yesterday morning.  I asked her if she wanted to come backstage with me
and get some coffee.
	"I'll be there in a minute," she said, turning away from me and
looking back into the audience.  I felt strange leaving her.
	"Uh, Liza, you're not really upset about the reviews are you?"
	"Oh no Natty," she quickly replied.  "I mean, you can't please
everyone all the time.  Of course it would be nice to please some people
some of the time."  She laughed again.
	"Yeah," I said.  "I mean, the way I look at it, the critics have to
take issue with something, or else they feel that they won't be taken
seriously."
	"And they chose me because they know I'm the most seasoned, and
that it won't really hurt me at this point."
	"Exactly."  I hoped this conversation was going well.  "Fuck 'em
Liza!"  She smiled at me.
	"Not after those reviews."  I laughed slightly and urged her to
come get coffee with me.  "In a minute," she replied.

----------
	The matinee went off without a hitch.  Liza seemed particularly
into her character, and I found getting into our scenes was so much easier.
Maybe the reviews had challenged her to reach deep inside herself, because
I could totally see why her name used to be synonymous with Broadway.  Back
in my dressing room, I had a couple of messages.  One was from Allen,
demanding that I meet with Larry Ridgecliff in LA next week.  The other was
from JC.  He said he had finished taping and that if I wanted to meet him,
I should come by MTV.  My first thought was that he was testing to see if I
would go.  My second thought was of shock, because I realized I couldn't
wait to go.
	MTV was only a couple of blocks from the theater, but it was hard
to get to given that Broadway had been filled with screaming teenage girls.
I made my way to the business entrance and told the front desk that I was
here to see JC Chasez.  At first the woman gave me a "yeah right"
expression, but after some explaining she agreed to call upstairs.  A few
moments later a door opened and a guy emerged wearing a hooded sweatshirt
and large black sunglasses.  It took me a moment to realize it was JC.  He
waved me in and I proceeded to follow him for quite some time until we
eventually came out the side entrance where a large Escalade awaited us.  A
few girls were around, but security kept them at bay.  We jumped in the car
and it took off.  JC pulled off the hood and glasses and smiled at me.  I
was happy to see his bright blue eyes and thought about kissing him, but
decided against it.  "You'll be doing this yourself pretty soon," he said.
	"I don't know about that," I returned.  I wondered if I should
confine myself to theater.  "So what did you want to do?  I only have like
3 hours before the next show."
	"That's fine, do you wanna go to a museum?"  I fought back a smile.
The guy really wanted to go to a museum.  Maybe he just wanted me to be his
cultural liaison.
	"Uh, which one?"
	"I don't know, doesn't matter, I haven't been to any of them."
	"What?  Are you serious?  Aren't you in New York like all the
time?"
	"Yeah, but not exactly for cultural events.  Whenever I'm here I
usually go from MTV to a hotel to a club."  He thought for a moment.  "I
guess that's maybe why I don't like it here that much."
	"Wait a minute, you don't like New York?"  He shrugged.  "Tell the
driver to go to the Met."  I figured that was the best museum to begin
with, both for the building itself, and the huge variety of collections it
contained.  On the way over I asked him if the bodyguard sitting up front
would be coming with us.  He said that he didn't use bodyguards as much as
he used to, but with the album coming out, he was in slightly more danger
of being mobbed.
	"He won't walk with us, but he'll be watching us."  He raised his
eyebrows in such a way to suggest we wouldn't be doing anything
inappropriate at the museum.  I immediately blushed and looked away.  He
was finding this situation funny in some way.
	We arrived at the Met and hopped out of the car.  JC seemed quite
taken with its grandeur.  I told him about the different collections they
had and he asked if we could start with the Asian weapons and armor
section.  It wasn't my favorite area, but I had been coming hear on a
monthly basis since I came to New York at eighteen.  Walking around with
him, I offered up whatever knowledge I could.  He listened to me like a
student listens to his teacher.  It made me a bit uncomfortable to see how
willing he was to admit his lack of knowledge.  I mean, if I had been
offered the opportunities he was as a teenager, I wouldn't have passed on
them to go to college, and I wouldn't feel bad about it either.
	I took him to my favorite spot in the museum.  It was a
reconstruction of the courtyard to an Italian palace.  The room was empty
and quiet.  Completely serene.  I assumed the bodyguard was around
somewhere, but I couldn't see him.  I explained to him that these were the
actual stones from the palace and he quickly replied, "I know, I recognized
them when we walked in.  They must be from the palace I saw in Venice."
	"Have you been to Italy?"  Now I felt like an idiot.  Of course he
had been to Italy.  He had probably been everywhere.
	"Oh yeah," he replied with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.  He went
on to explain the palace in great detail, and he was explaining it very
well.  Images of him in interviews popped up in my head and I tried to
reconcile his different personas.  Almost absentmindedly, while he
continued to describe Venice, he walked up behind me and put his arms
around my waist.  I didn't know how to react.  It felt wonderful, and for a
moment I felt completely relaxed.  This was quickly replaced by nervousness
though, and I stepped forward, breaking the embrace.  He stopped talking
for a second but quickly resumed, not wanting me to know that he was hurt.
Of course, maybe he wasn't.
	The time flew by and soon I had to head back.  We headed toward the
front of the museum and I had once again resolved myself to simply say
goodbye and go on with my life.  JC offered to drive me back, but I turned
down the offer, suddenly craving the anonymity of the subway.  I awkwardly
shook his hand, thanked him for the company and started to run down the
steps
	"Hey, what are you doing after the show?" he called out suddenly.
I came to a halt.  This guy wasn't playing by the rules at all.  I walked
back up to him.
	"I didn't have anything planned."
	"Do you want to go for a late dinner?"  I didn't quite understand
why a musician releasing an album had all of this free time, and I didn't
know what I should answer.  Friends of mine that had "fuck buddies" didn't
wander around museums together, and didn't have late night romantic dinners
together.  I wanted to tell him no, that I was just going to go home.  Then
he would know the score.  But then once again I found myself looking into
his eyes and I knew that I had the power to destroy someone like JC with a
simple harsh word.  I guess neither of us was really good at this.
	"Ok."
	"Cool," he said.  "I'll come by the theater when you're done."
	"I'll have to sign autographs for a while afterward."
	"Ok, I know the drill."  I spun around on my heel and ran down the
long steps.  I headed back to theater, once again completely confused about
what I was doing.

----------
	After the performance, I ran back to my dressing room.  I washed
off my make-up and changed into a black long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of
dark jeans.  I came out of the backstage entrance where people were lined
up for autographs.  I began signing them, smiling and thanking people for
their compliments, all the while looking around to see if JC was there.  I
light rain had begun to fall, but through it I noticed a black Escalade
parked on the other side of the street.  I was soon joined by Maggie and
Paul, who began signing autographs as well.  I had been out there for maybe
ten minutes before the rain really started to annoy me.  "Where's Liza?" I
asked Maggie.
	"Last time I saw her she was at her dressing table, removing her
wig and stuff." Maggie responded.  "She was great tonight huh?  Even better
than this afternoon."  I agreed.
	"But she was acting a little strange all day wasn't she?"
	"Come on Natty, she's always been a little strange no?"
	"I guess."  I had just about signed everyone's programs when
someone from inside the theater came out and announced that Liza was not
feeling well and would not be signing programs tonight.  Sounds of
disappointment were heard and I wondered if her mood was just a sign of
being under the weather.  I was going to go back in and check on her when I
saw the back window of the Escalade come down, and the head of JC pop out
of it.  It looked as though he was trying to find me, but was having
difficulty through the rain, which had increased significantly.  The
thought had returned when the rain suddenly turned into an absolute
downpour.  Everyone scattered, thus bringing an end to the autograph
signing.  Maggie and Paul headed for the cars that waited for them every
night and I ran toward JC's car.  He opened the door and I jumped in,
feeling like a drowned rat.  He reached into the back of the SUV and handed
me a sweatshirt to dry myself off with.  "Where are we headed?" I asked.
	"Do you like dim sum?"
	"Love it."
	"Cool, the guys and I have gone to this great place on the Upper
West Side a few times."
	"Sounds good to me."  The SUV took off up Broadway, but about five
minutes into the drive, it came to a stop.  JC asked the driver what was
going on.  The driver said that it looked like there may be an accident a
few cars up, as the police had stopped all traffic.  "Jesus Christ!" I
yelled out.  "Can't anybody fucking drive when it's raining?"  JC gave me a
questioning look.  "Sorry," I said, turning my face toward the window.
Something was making me nervous.  The driver said he would turn off the
avenue as soon as possible, but he didn't sound very hopeful for the near
future.
	"So, what was it you had wanted to show me in the museum?" JC
asked, trying to lighten the mood.  I turned back to him, trying to think.
	"Oh, the Magritte exhibit they have at the moment."
	"You're a big fan of his work?"
	"Yeah, he's one of the few modern painters that I actually get.  My
favorite is this one of a house cast in darkness even though a bright blue
sky looms above it."
	"It's about depression," JC offered.  I looked at him and smiled.
	"Yeah, you know, about how something so large can go completely
unnoticed.  See, when he was still very young, Magritte's mother committed
suici---" My voice dropped and panic shot through my body as I had a
terrible thought.  "I have to go."
	"What?  Where?"  JC's voice rang out behind me as I opened the door
to the car, made my way to the sidewalk, and started running down Broadway.
The rain was coming down in sheets.  I could hardly see and had to keep
dodging people.  I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest, but
I kept pushing myself to run faster.  I got back to the theater to find it
already dark.  I ran to the front entrance but no one was there to be seen.
I ran to the backstage entrance and fumbled to find my keys.  My hands were
shaking as I got my key into the lock, turned it and ran inside.  I went to
Liza's dressing room.  It was empty.  I was halfway back out the door when
I noticed a piece of paper on her dressing table.  I walked over to it, and
upon seeing that it was a hand written note, I ran out of her room and up
onto the stage.  It was dark and I had to look around to find one of the
light switches.  When I finally got one on, I quickly looked around, then
up.  Up on the catwalk was Liza.  A rope was tied around her neck and
fastened to the iron railing.
	"Liza NO!"  She turned slowly and looked down at me.  She smiled.
	"It will be my greatest dramatic accomplishment."  She pulled
herself over the railing and then there was silence.

To be continued