Date: Sun, 14 Nov 2004 00:31:39 -0800 (PST) From: Michael Bryan <mzbryan2003@yahoo.com> Subject: JC and the Actor (Chapter 39) JC and the Actor, Chapter 39, Copyright 2004 ---------- 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. It certainly sounds strange to be saying that there is only one chapter left of this story. It has been quite an experiencing writing 'JC and the Actor' for over a year now, and it has been a real pleasure to read so many of your thoughtful comments. Many of you have been reading and responding from the beginning, and I sincerely hope that my great appreciation of that fact is felt. Please continue to send your comments to mzbryan2003@yahoo.com. And now, without further ado...in glorious Technicolor and Stereophonic sound... ---------- Chapter 39 The seasons were changing once again, and it was the first time in months that it was comfortable enough to sit outside. Maggie sat next to me on a park bench, holding a cup of coffee, a messenger cap on her head and a scarf tied around her neck. "It feels so good to be here," I said, watching people stroll through Central Park, many of them looking so happy you would think they hadn't been outside in months. "It was a really cold winter," she said. Maggie looked at me a bit closer and started to laugh a bit, like she had been doing off and on since I met her earlier in the day. Apparently me sporting a beard, along with a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses was a funny sight. "You just love thinking you have to protect yourself from being recognized, don't you?" she laughed, reaching for my hat. "Don't," I snapped, grabbing my hat and pressing it to my head. "You should have seen what happened back in London when I left Jimmy for two seconds to run into a store to buy gum." "Aww, was it just terrible, Natty?" she said, motherly rubbing the side of my face with her hand. It wasn't that the fans scared me. Truth be told, they were fairly tame. Only musicians seemed to inspire teenage girls to scream, chase after buses and tear at their clothes. For the most part I inspired intense curiosity, staring and what would often turn into extensive autograph signings. Whenever I found myself in such a situation, I was nothing but polite. But when I could possibly avoid the situation, I did. And so I sat in the park next to Maggie with my beard, baseball cap and aviator sunglasses. "Don't look now," she said, leaning a bit forward to get a better look at whatever it is she was looking at. "But there is a guy in the bushes across the way taking pictures of you." "Christ," I said, shaking my head. "Don't they have anything better to do?" "I can just see the headline," Maggie laughed, moving her hand dramatically from left to right. "Nate Murray sits on a bench with female companion." "That would be better than the tabloid headlines in London," I sighed. "Nate In Sync with JC," I recalled. "Chasez Batty Over Natty." "Ok, I get it," Maggie said. "And we haven't even come out yet," I laughed. "To think that people would start to speculate just because two hot young male celebrities live together and spend all their time together." "Imagine that," Maggie said sarcastically. "So how is the coming out party going?" Judging by the way she asked the question, I guessed that she had been trying to bring forth the topic but was looking for the right opening. "It's not happening quite yet," I shrugged. "Josh wants it to coincide with the release of his album." "Jeez, that boy really doesn't want his albums to do well, does he?" "I don't know," I said, watching a man throw a Frisbee to his dog. "The world is changing so quickly lately. Just a few years ago I would have said it was career suicide. But now, well, maybe people are ready for it." "He'll get a huge gay following, that's for sure," Maggie said. "But do you really think that most people have become that open-minded? I mean, a quintet of gay makeover specialists doesn't make the world a tolerant place." I shrugged my shoulders again. I didn't really know the answer. "Natty," Maggie said, her body shifting toward me and her expression turning serious. "Can I ask you a question and can you promise to answer it honestly?" "Sure," I said. "Why not?" "Do you really want to come out at this time? I mean, you are about to make all these films and get even more popularity. Would you really be doing this if JC wasn't pressuring you?" "Honestly?" I repeated, stalling for time. Maggie nodded. "Well, no actually. No. I mean if I was all alone in the world I would say this is a pretty bad time to come out." "Then don't do it," Maggie pleaded, taking my hands in hers. She was being her usual self, a bit more dramatic than necessary. "I'm sure JC would understand. Tell him it's not important what people think." "I can't," I said. "He's been so excited about the idea. There's been a real change in him. It seems to be giving him some sense of purpose. It's fueling something inside of him." "You've picked some time to stop being selfish," Maggie said sarcastically. "Nate, you and JC are equals in everything now. You can't just go along with anything he wants to do." "But I love seeing him so happy," I said. "It's not like I haven't given this a lot of thought, but the only conclusion that I keep coming to is that he is more important to me than my career. I'm sure it will be worth it." "And what if it isn't?" Maggie asked. "What do you mean?" I asked back. "Come on Natty, people break up. Relationships end. And in this case you may not even have your career to fall back on. I don't think you want to play the roles that Nathan Lane doesn't take for the rest of your life." "I can't believe you would even suggest that," I said, more pretending to be insulted than I really was. "I don't know what will happen," I said. "But we'll just have to wait and see. Maggie, I've been out for years in New York. Hell, type in my name on the web and you can get a list of my ex-boyfriends." "But the point is that you aren't sitting there confirming it. People can still use their imaginations. They can think that when you gave your love to Mark in a theater program, that you were thanking a family pet. If you sit on a couch with Barbara Walters and talk about your personal life, then you lose control of your career. That's just the way it goes." "No," I said. "The point is that this is what Josh wants to do, and so I'm going to do it. Josh is the one who has had issues with his sexual identity, not me. How can I not support him in taking a step like this?" Maggie stayed quiet. Now she was watching the man with the Frisbee. "Is this all because of your, uh, indiscretion that you are doing this?" she asked. "You still feel guilty and think that this is a way to get rid of that feeling?" "Of course not," I said. Then I started to think. "Well, maybe partly..." "Natty," Maggie yelled. "It doesn't matter, Maggie," I said. "The reasons don't really matter. In the end, I know that this is an important thing to do. We'll be doing a tremendous service to the gay community by being completely open and honest. How can that be wrong?" "Because you're just an actor, Natty. You didn't plan a life as a social activist and you shouldn't feel like you have to become one, just because JC does. Just like everyone else in this country, you have the right to go after your dreams and goals." I had to admit that I was surprised by how much thought Maggie had put into this topic. Everything she said was true, but so was everything that I said. In the end, it was really a balancing test. It was just that on one side of the scale was the man I loved. "Part of me thinks it could work out," Maggie said, I suppose reconciling herself to the idea. "I just wish you didn't have to be the first person to do this. You know, the first young leading man to come out and who still expects to be taken seriously when he is in a love scene with Natalie Portman." "Somebody's got to be first," I said. "And you know I wouldn't be happy being second." I gave her what I thought was a cute little wink, though she probably couldn't see it through my sunglasses. "We should get going," Maggie said, looking at her wrist, which did not have a watch. "We don't have you for much longer, do we?" "I fly back tomorrow night," I said. "Promise me you'll do what's best for you?" she asked. "I have to do what's best for us," I said, hoping that I was doing just that. ---------- An hour and a couple of autographs later, we were in a taxi headed toward Maggie's apartment. "I'm thinking of becoming a total sell out and moving to Los Angeles," she said suddenly. It sounded like a confession. "You're kidding me," I said. "I've gotten a bunch of film offers," she said. "I don't know. I'm getting tired of theater, and let's face it, the money in films is quite different." "Don't I know it," I laughed. "Do you remember that place I used to live when we first met?" "That seems like a long time ago," Maggie laughed. "It's so weird, Maggie," I began. "It all happens so fast. I mean, it's just been over a year and already I can't remember what my life was like before. Buying groceries, window shopping, it's all become a distant memory." "We've all known you were destined for this," Maggie said. "But you're so good, Natty, you really deserve it." "You spend so much time growing up looking at celebrities, thinking of them as something distinctly different from you and wondering what that is. Then suddenly you are one of them and now you have to pretend that you aren't impressed by any of them." "It's pretty funny," she said. I pulled out my cell phone and showed her the names of the people in my address book. "Look at this," I said, smiling. "Gwyneth, Jude, Ewan, Nicole...These people call and ask me how I'm doing. They invite me places and send me scripts. It's hysterical." "And don't forget about JC," Maggie said, reminding me that I used to be impressed with pop stars as well. "Of course," I said, putting the phone back in my pocket. "You know, the two of us should look for a project to do together." "You and JC?" she asked. "Don't you two do enough together?" "I'm talking about you and me, crazy." "Oh, we should," she laughed, placing her hand over mine. "Something very dirty and erotic. I've really been thinking lately of doing more nudity." "Ok," I said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "You may be the first actress to say that, but ok." We sat for a few moments in silence, enjoying our surroundings, thinking about the directions our lives were going. It was mid-April, and I had taken a week off from the play and from filming the movie with Gwyneth Paltrow. Despite loving what I was doing, it was exhausting work, filming all day and performing in "The Glass Menagerie" every night. While JC was at work on his album and planning his big announcement, I decided that it was best for me to strike while the iron was still hot, and so I signed on to make six films over the next two years, with the option of being able to develop one of the films myself. The idea of playing a role in movie production was a bit scary since, well, I knew nothing about it. But I also knew that having control over a project could really be an incredible experience. Besides, after our announcement, I may never work again. "Where is JC, again?" Maggie asked, pulling me away from my thoughts. "Fiji," I said. "With Lance and the Hilton sisters, I think." "God, he really has some taste in friends, doesn't he?" she said, her voice taking a slightly more negative tone than I was used to hearing from her. Rather than defend my man, I decided to come clean. "Can I tell you something and can you promise never to repeat what I am about to tell you?" I asked, shifting my weight toward her. "Sure," she said. "Of course." "I can't stand any of them," I said. "Whenever I'm around his friends I feel like I am about to expire. I let my mind drift away and even when I'm forced to respond to something I wasn't listening to in the first place, they never seem to notice the difference." Maggie laughed and nodded with understanding. Part of me always felt incredibly guilty for not liking JC's friends. I felt snobbish. I also didn't want to be the kind of significant other that takes his lover away from his own friendship circle, which is why I never said anything to him. On the other hand, JC always seemed to enjoy the company I kept, though I sensed that he too would become bored if we got too involved in a discussion about theater, politics, or method acting. It wasn't that he didn't know how to be serious; it was just that his background was significantly different from my own. "So is that why you guys took separate vacations?" Maggie asked. "So you wouldn't have to mingle with each other's friends?" "Not really," I said. "I think we both realized we needed a break from each other. We've been practically joined at the hip for months. I don't think either of us is really used to a relationship like that." "You guys aren't having problems, are you?" "No, no," I explained. "I just really wanted to come here, and he really wanted to go someplace warm, so we just figured, 'hell with it, it's only a week.'" "Third townhouse on the right," Maggie said to the cab driver as he pulled up to her apartment. She opened the door and went to step out before turning back to face me. "Natty, as actors, we struggle to understand every emotion, every motivation for why people do the things they do." "Yes," I nodded, knitting my eyebrows together. "You're so good at understanding other people's feelings," she continued. "Don't start ignoring your own." "I won't," I said a bit automatically, thinking that I would ponder what she was saying at a later point when I had more time. "Ok," she said, stepping out of the cab. "So we'll see you tonight?" "I have my party dress all pressed and ready to go," I smiled. Maggie closed the door and I waved goodbye as the cab headed downtown to take me home. ---------- It had felt very strange, sleeping in my own bed this past week. All in all, I had not spent that much time in my New York apartment since I had bought it. Spending a lot of my time in the city by myself, just sitting around the house, I realized that being lonely and being alone were two very different feelings. JC wasn't with me, but I knew he was mine. I didn't feel the aching in my heart to be with him, knowing that he was just a phone call away. We talked everyday and I was continually amused by his stories of Lance's drunken debauchery up and down the island. From what JC told me, he himself seemed to be using his vacation time for total relaxation. He was sunbathing, eating, and yes, even surfing. It was a sight I would have paid to see. I wandered into the study, thinking that the room should have some actual purpose aside from looking like a study. To my disappointment, I couldn't think of one. My accountant managed all of my money, and my assistant took care of all of my bills. I sat down at my computer, thinking I could surf the web or do some online shopping. Boring. I got up and walked over to the bookshelves, tracing the bookbindings with my fingertip. I had read all of the books on the shelves, some of them more than once. I sighed and headed back out into the living room, switching the light off on my way out. I sat down on the couch and flipped on the television. This is ridiculous, I thought. I'm Nathaniel Murray. Actor. Celebrity. And I'm sitting alone on my couch watching TV. Now I understood why so many celebrities spent so much time in bars and clubs. When life wasn't very active, we became very bored. I guess I liked working more than I realized. I guess JC was more entertaining than I gave him credit for. I turned off the television, put on my leather jacket, and headed outside. I walked the streets I had walked for years, only now it felt different. Before, I was a well-known fixture in my predominantly gay neighborhood. Not because of my promiscuity but because of my profession, my general social nature and yes, my appearance. Now, I was walking around hoping that no one would recognize me and fretting about what would happen if somebody did. I was starting to grow concerned that I was changing too much. I had always been determined but still easy going. I had also always been an out and proud gay man, unashamed of not fitting into any stereotype. I was neither effeminate nor hyper-masculine. I originally had no intention of changing that part of myself, but once I got involved in the movie business, my situation seemed to be changing it for me. Being told that I would make less money or that my movies would not do as well had an effect on me and I could not deny it. It reshaped my attitude from "who cares," to "it's nobody's business." Being with JC also made it more problematic to be out. JC was an established figure in popular culture. For years he had been portrayed as straight by the media and he had thousands of fans who held tight to that belief. It would have been childish of me to not be understanding of his predicament, and so I complied with it. For the most part it didn't seem to be affecting us. We'd been living together basically since we had gotten together, and all of our close friends knew that we were a couple. Still, there was no handholding in public. No chaste kisses. No longing glances. I thought that I could live without those things, but currently found myself thinking about them, watching men stroll down the street holding hands, passing by my familiar haunts, now afraid to go inside. I wouldn't have to worry much longer, I thought, reminding myself of what JC and I were in the midst of preparing for. Just before New Year's, JC told me that he wanted to come out publicly and I told him that I was fine with his decision. He had such a determined look on his face as he explained to me his reasons, and his enthusiasm led me to support him. After our announcement, maybe life would go back to normal. I could go to my favorite gay bar or neighborhood shop and totally be myself. Maybe coming out in the media would be exactly what I needed to make me stop feeling the way I did. Then again, maybe coming out would prove to be a giant, irreversible mistake. Maybe I would never again have the selection of roles I currently enjoyed. Maybe I would be relegated to a life of accepting humanitarian and acting awards from gay organizations, doing guest spots on 'Will & Grace' and working with Elizabeth Taylor to raise money for AIDS research. It wasn't that I would have a problem doing any of those things; it was just that I wanted to do so much more. I didn't want to have to spend the remaining part of my career hanging out with the cast of 'Queer as Folk.' Obviously JC and I would not be the first celebrities to come out, but we would be the first high profile, 20-something celebrities to do so. That being the case, there was truly no predicting of how we would be received. I used to laugh, thinking to myself how crushed all the teeny-boppers would be to learn that JC was into guys. Now the thought was simply unsettling. Lost in my own world, I turned the corner back toward my apartment, thinking that I had tempted fate long enough in taking this solo stroll. Obviously I wasn't looking straight in front of me, because only a moment after turning the corner, I had smacked into another person, and was struggling to keep from falling to the ground. "Whoa," the person I had walked into said, reaching out to steady me. He was larger than me and put me back on my feet with ease. "Shit, I'm sorry," I said, looking down at the ground, half out of embarrassment, half out of not wanting to be recognized. This is great, I thought. This guy is going to be able to spend the rest of the month telling everyone he knew that he stopped Nathaniel Murray from falling flat on his ass. "Nathan?" the man said. "Shit," I said to myself, possibly out loud. Here we go. Slowly, I looked up, telling myself that I would be polite, sign a quick autograph and be on my way. Proving to me once again how many times I could be wrong about things, I realized that the man wasn't a stranger. "It's a bit dark to be wearing sunglasses, don't you think?" the man said with a grin, his English accent low and sarcastic. I looked closer at him, pretending that I wasn't quite sure I knew who he was. "Colin Williams," I said, my hands moving to my hips. "I thought you would have been deported by now." "It's not the English they are deporting these days," he laughed, grabbing me into a hug and patting me on the back. He was a good four inches taller than me and for a second I thought that I might take another tumble. "You know, I've been meaning to call you." "Don't worry about it," I grinned, politely pulling away from him. "It's only been seven years." "Has it been that long?" he asked, reaching his hand behind his head and scratching at his blond, short-cropped hair. He was still a terrible liar. "Well, let me buy you a cup of coffee to make up for that. Or maybe a razor to help you get rid of that beard." "That's ok," I said, straightening my jacket and hat. "I have to meet some friends for dinner soon." Either he didn't hear me, or he didn't care, because he was already walking back toward Eighth Avenue, and I found myself following behind. "A quick cup," I said, catching up to him. "Is this going to make me famous?" he asked sarcastically. "Having coffee with a big film star." "You could probably sell the story to the tabloids for a grand," I said. "A grand?" he repeated. "Imagine what they would pay for all the other stories I could share." He gave me a quick wink, which I followed up with a punch to his arm. "That's ancient history," I said as we approached the coffee shop. Suddenly I was twenty again. "Only seven years," he said, sweeping in front of me to open the door and gesture me inside. We walked to the back and sat down on a well-worn sofa. Colin quickly jumped back up went to order the coffee. Throwing caution to the wind, I took off my sunglasses, took off my hat, and breathed a sigh of relief as I slumped into the couch. I felt naked but exhilarated, and I don't think I could explain quite why. It seemed that everyone was turning to look at me, but so far they all seemed either too scared or too shocked to approach me. Here I was, in a coffee shop with rainbow flags hanging from the awning and totally surrounded by gay men. It felt totally usual in a totally unusual way. I'm testing this out, I thought to myself. This is what life will be like soon, so I better make sure that I like it. Colin returned, placing my coffee down in front of me. "You still take it black?" he asked, sitting down next to me. "Nice try," I said, reaching for the cup. "I never did." He shrugged, jumped back up and returned with cream and sugar. "You still know how to make a girl feel special," I laughed, pouring a bit of sugar into my cup. "I guess it's pretty pointless to ask what you've been up to," Colin said, leaning back and taking a big sip. He did still take it black. "It's been an interesting few years," I said. "What have you been up to?" "International finance," he said. "I split my time between a bank here and in London." "So you went to Chicago for your MBA?" I asked, thinking I knew the answer, but wanting to confirm it. "Don't remind me," he said, taking another sip. "I thought the weather in London was dismal." "I hear Boy's Town is fabulous," I said. "Eh," he said, shrugging. "Once you've tasted gold, all the rest..." "Please," I said, rolling my eyes and pushing him away with my arm. Colin had always been flirtatious, and I didn't know whether to feel nostalgic or disconcerted that nothing about him seemed to have changed. "You may find this funny, or you may actually know this already, but I've been living in London since last summer," I said. "I'm doing a play over there." "I didn't know that," he said. "I thought you said you would never be able to leave New York for more than a week." "I did say that," I said, complimenting him for remembering something accurately. "People change." Colin began to speak but stopped short when he realized that someone was standing in front of us, looking at me nervously. He was young, his cheeks a bit red. "S-sorry to bother you," the boy said. "I just, um, wanted to say that I'm a huge fan of yours. I think you were really great in both of your movies." He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other, over and over again. "Thanks," I said, smiling and nodding. I was so fucking cool. "I really appreciate that, man." "Ok," he said. "Um, would you mind, uh, never mind, I don't want to bother you." He stuffed the napkin he was holding into his pants. "Would you like me to sign that?" I asked, motioning for him to take the napkin back out. "Oh yeah, that would be great," the boy said, handing the napkin to me. Colin reached into his coat pocket and handed me a pen. "Here you go, Mr. Movie Star," Colin said. I asked the kid for his name and signed the napkin, handing it back to him. "Take care, dude," I said. He smiled again and thanked me, hurrying back to his friends, showing them the autograph as they headed out the door. "Man? Dude?" Colin said, referencing my apparently new vernacular. "I can't believe I said that," I said, shaking my head. "I sound just like JC" "Jesus Christ?" Colin asked, raising an eyebrow. "No," I said. "Never mind." Given our location and my respect for JC's privacy, I decided against saying anything about him, despite wanting Colin to know who I was dating. "That's pretty impressive," he said, looking toward the door. "Having strangers come up to you, asking for autographs." "Part of the job," I said, trying to downplay it, trying to pretend that I wasn't impressed as well. "It's really funny, though," Colin said. "Who would have thought that watching you run around campus in a sheet pretending to be Caesar would turn into all of this?" "You never took me seriously," I said. Colin always thought acting was just a grownup's way of playing pretend. "I didn't have to," he smiled. "You were always there to take yourself so seriously." "This has been fun," I said, putting my cup down and standing up dramatically. "Maybe we'll run into each other again in another seven years." "Nathan," Colin said, grabbing my hand. His grip was firm but nonviolent. "I was just teasing, please sit back down." I looked around the café and saw that I was drawing more attention to myself than I wanted. I sat back down. "Yeesh," Colin breathed, settling back down into the couch. "Such a drama queen." "I had goals," I said, my eyes burning into him. "As did I," Colin said, with a knowing nod. I wanted to be mad at him, but he was making a valid point without saying too much. We were both kids in college at one point, both with dreams and aspirations. It was true that I spent the majority of our time together totally preoccupied with my own. "God," I said, cradling my head in my hand. "I was such a little snot sometimes." "You sure were," Colin smiled, showing his perfect white teeth. "But it's ok, it's part of what attracted me to you in the first place." In hearing Colin say that, it occurred to me that it was a frequent statement made by people I had been in relationships with. They were always attracted to my intensity, my passion for what I did. Yet once they had me, they were often left cold, as they usually were forced to deal with being second in my list of priorities. JC, I thought, had changed all of that. "Whoa," I said with a bit of a laugh. "You're not suggesting that I was the reason we broke up, are you?" It was strange to be talking about our break-up as though it was a recent event. We were just kids in college when we dated. It seemed like a million years ago and I seriously thought of it rarely up until now. "You're the one who left me," Colin said. He was enjoying talking about this and I couldn't quite tell why. "That was after I found out you were sleeping with half of the campus." I took another sip of my coffee. I was enjoying this too. Colin nodded his head, suggesting that he was accepting his culpability. "People change," he said. If I didn't know him better I would have thought he was serious. "No they don't," I said, folding my arms. "You just said five minutes ago that they did." He looked around the room as though he was trying to find someone to confirm what I had said. "I was just a kid, Nate." "Fine, fine, it's all forgotten," I said, waving my hands down. "Come on, now, it's been seven years. What fabulous things have you been up to?" We spent the next half-hour catching up. Colin had made a great deal of money for himself and for several companies in relatively few years. Still, he did not come across as someone obsessed with money. He simply did something that he was good at and reaped the rewards. I asked him about his family and he asked me about mine. As he talked I couldn't help but start to see his familiar gestures, the way he held his hands or postured his head. It wasn't that I was remembering how I used to feel about him, it was just, well, that I was remembering that he was someone I used to know. Colin was a very handsome man, very tall and broad shouldered. The years had made him look a bit more distinguished, a little less reckless than when he was in school. He was also, as I remembered and as he still demonstrated, the least complicated person I had ever known. He wasn't simple by any means; he just always seemed to be able to look at everything in proper perspective. He never worried what anyone thought of him, and he was always a great friend to those he liked. Eventually, or inevitably, the conversation turned toward relationships. "I don't know," he said. "There were a couple of people I thought I might settle down with, but it always felt just like that, settling." "They expected too much from you," I said. "Exactly," he said, his eyes widening. "I've realized a few things about myself over the years. For one thing, I realized that I can't be everything to somebody. I don't want to be." "You want a partner, not a child," I said, wondering where all of this was coming from. "Yes," he said. "I mean, I spend half of the year here, half in London, and I love that. I love the freedom to go where I please, but I realize that it would be a lot to ask of someone to enjoy living like that. But how about you?" He asked me about myself before I had the chance to say anymore about his viewpoint." "I've been with someone for almost two years," I said, hearing an almost embarrassing sense of pride in my voice. "An actor?" he asked. "A singer," I said, smiling slightly to myself. I looked back up to see Colin staring at me with interest. "And that's all I'm going to say about that," I said, nodding my head slowly. "Oh, come now dear Nathan. I won't tell a soul." "No, no," I laughed. "Besides, you will find out soon enough. We are about to come out publicly as a couple." "Hmm," Colin hummed, sipping his coffee. "That sounds like a pretty terrible idea." "We shall see," I smiled, looking around the room. My tone indicated that I had no intention of debating the issue with him, and I liked the feeling of control. This wasn't an issue for everyone to offer his or her two cents on. This was between JC and me. "Please tell me it's not that Justin Timberlake fellow," Colin said after a few moments. I started to laugh. There was simply no escaping the boy from Memphis. "No," I said, shaking my head. "It's not Justin Timberlake." I eventually had to say my goodbyes as I really was meeting my friends for dinner. "I'm headed that way," Colin said. "I'll walk with you." We headed toward mid-town. The weather was a bit colder than what I had dressed for, but I hardly noticed, as I was quite thrilled to just be walking through the city. In the dark, and walking with someone as big as Colin, I passed unnoticed and it was wonderful. "You're meeting Morris and Erin?" he asked. "My goodness, you really know how to stay in touch." "They've been very good friends over the years," I said. "I never get tired of them." "That's great," Colin said as we approached the restaurant. "Give them my best." "Do you want to come in and say 'hi'?" I asked. "Maybe stay for a drink?" "No, no," he said. "You go and enjoy. I think that Erin may still try to make good on her promise to ruin me for breaking up with you. This has been really nice though, Nathan." "It has," I said. Colin reached into his coat and retrieved a business card, which he handed me. "I'm in London all the time," he said. "Maybe we could chat again before another seven years passes us by." "That would be great," I said, taking the card from him. "You should come see the show." "That would be lovely," he said, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek. I didn't kiss him back and he withdrew, tightening his overcoat around him. "Well then," he said. "Have a good evening." "You too," I said, watching him turn to leave. He headed north, and I stood there for a moment watching him. If he turns around, I thought to myself, he still feels something. This was a frequent game I played with myself, and apparently I currently had nothing better to do. The traffic light at the next block turned red and I saw Colin come to a stop, his hands slipping into his pockets. Slowly, he turned back around, looking toward the front of the restaurant where he had left me. I grinned for only a moment, and only to myself, then headed inside. --------- "Where is he? I'll kill him." "Easy, Erin. We're both big boys now. Honestly, it was nice seeing him again." I took a sip of the red wine I was holding, wondering what effect the mixture of caffeine and alcohol would have on me. "And let's face it," Morris said. "If there was ever a guy that could make me go gay..." Erin and I both put our drinks down and stared at him, our eyebrows raised. "Kidding!" he laughed, picking up his glass. "Just kidding." "Well, that pretty face stomped all over our little Nathaniel's heart, remember?" Erin said, glaring at Morris. "Who the hell is Little Nathaniel?" I asked with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation light and humorous. "We were all just kids back then," Morris defended. "We all did stupid things, but people grow up and change." "Wait," I said. "Do you really think that people change?" "Of course they do," Morris said. "Do you think that you view things the same way you did when you were twenty?" "Well no," I said. "But I don't know. I think people learn how to better manage their behavior. I don't know if they change their attitudes about things." "There wasn't a girl on campus who didn't dream about going to bed with Colin," Erin said suddenly. I guess her outrage was over. "When we found out he was gay it was a dark day, indeed." "I thought I was the guy every girl wanted to go to bed with," I said, acting totally shocked. "You?" Erin said, shaking her head. "No, no. Too pretty. All the girls who were in love with you are probably still living in 'Will & Grace' relationships all over the city." "Amazing," Morris laughed. "There I was, actually liking women, and couldn't get any." Maggie arrived, late as expected, and we all enjoyed a terrific Italian dinner, somehow polishing off a few bottles of wine in the process. During dessert, Maggie pulled a script out of her bag, and handed it to Morris. "It's fabulous," she said. "You must do it." "What is this?" I asked. "You know," Maggie began. "Life has gone on since you took off across the pond. It's Neil Howard's new play." "And I didn't know about this because..." I said. "Trust me, Natty. It's not a part you would be interested in. Besides, you're all booked up for the next two years." Neil Howard's last play was the reason I was now famous. I would later learn that Maggie had taken Neil to one of Morris' off-Broadway productions, and that Neil had been quite impressed and wanted Morris to read for one of the parts. "Fine, fine," I laughed. "Just forget all about me and I'll retire to the English countryside." "Now you listen here," Erin said. "You finish up this play and that movie you're doing, and get your ass back here to New York." "Can't do it," I said. "The film I'm starting next is being filmed in England too. It's a remake of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'." "Jesus, Nate," Erin said. "So much for being Mr. New Yorker." "I'm real excited about it actually," I said. "Of course you are," Maggie laughed. "You get to play an impossibly beautiful man who sacrifices his soul to remain that way." "Wait," Morris said. "It's an autobiography?" They all started laughing, though I couldn't really see the humor in it. "You know," I said. "If I wasn't drunk right now, I'd probably be really aggravated. "We're just teasing," Maggie said. "I'm sure you will be marvelous in it." "Fine, fine," I said. "You all just keep laughing. I'm sure my new friends Gwyneth and Jude will support me completely." I took another sip and looked around the room, pretending to scan the crowd for more interesting people. It would take another minute for my three friends to start apologizing profusely. ---------- Late that night, I stumbled back up to my apartment, thoroughly exhausted. It had been one of those days where it felt like much had happened, but if you were to tell someone else about it, they would be forced to feign interest. I don't know how I ended up on the couch, but there I was, enveloped in sumptuous leather, drifting in and out of sleep, wondering about everything and nothing. Something wasn't adding up in my mind, but I couldn't understand what it was. It was as if I was looking at myself and my life as two separate things. I knew that I had always been intense, but I also knew that I spent most of my young adulthood as a happy person. And while I wouldn't say that I was unhappy now, I didn't feel the way that I would have predicted a year or two ago. I found myself often thinking of that opening night, in May of 2004, nearly two years ago. When the crowd rose to their feet at the end of the performance, I knew that I was about to get everything I had wanted. I knew the film offers would start coming, and I knew that there would be recognition for my work from very high sources. I was an actor who wanted to be a movie star and in the past two years I had proven that I could be both. I was on magazine covers and talk shows. I attended award shows and premieres. I did theater and film, and continued to be respected in both mediums. I had also managed to keep my old friends and make new ones, and I avoided false associations. Still, the Nathaniel of two years ago would be sitting in his apartment right now, his mind clear and focused, his heart full of excitement and appreciation for the life he had. He would walk the streets smiling, eating at his favorite restaurants, signing autographs and posing for pictures. The Nathaniel today did not feel that way, and he disliked himself for not making the most of an extraordinary opportunity. In pondering all of this, albeit in a drunken haze, I realized that there were two significant changes in my life over the last two years. The first was that I had fallen in love with a pop singer. The second was that, partly as a result of the former, I had begun to live a semi-closeted life. It seemed silly that this should bother me. I mean, the reasons were obvious. Hollywood doesn't like its leading men to be gay. I had to have known that all along, but the position did stand in conflict with the open person I had been in the theater. Wasn't that the direction I was headed? To be the first openly gay actor to become an international sensation? JC was thrown into the middle of all this, making the path toward the closet all the easier. Once I realized I loved him, I knew that our relationship would have to always come first, and if that meant protecting his sexual orientation, then I would do it. It wasn't really that big of a deal in my mind at the time, but now I couldn't help but think of how it was a dramatic shift in my original intentions. When JC and I had first started going out, he seemed to be a rather relaxed person. He seemed to take being gay in stride with the rest of his personality, and he did not go to great lengths to conceal it. He didn't let his public persona dominate his private life. But over time, there was a change in him and I wondered what the cause of it was. Was it my affair? That whole debacle with Elaine? The ghosts in the attic? I should just ask him, I thought, but then it occurred to me that there were just certain things we didn't talk about. He knew what kind of subjects upset me, and I knew the same for him. I started to wonder, for as much love as we shared, did we really know each other? I sat up and shook my head back and forth, trying to knock some sense into myself. If I thought much more about all of this, I might force myself into an existential crisis, and nobody was going to want to stay around to see that. Besides, whatever had been bothering JC must have stopped because now he was going public with his private life. So what exactly was it that was bothering me, then? Both of our problems would soon be solved. I would once again be an 'out' actor with a boyfriend I loved. Everything would be perfect then, right? I crawled into bed, thankful that my flight back to London was in the evening. My cell phone started to ring, and I let out a loud sigh as I got up to look for it, afraid not to answer while I had a boyfriend on a small island in the South Pacific. "Hello?" I mumbled into the phone. "Nate, it's Josh," JC yelled into the phone. I resisted the urge to tell him he didn't have to speak louder for me to hear him in New York. "Hey there," I said. "What time is it there?" "I have no idea," he said. "I just wanted to tell you something before you hear about it on 'Access Hollywood'." "What happened?" I said, sitting up. "He's totally fine, but Lance had a little surfing accident today." "Oh my God, is he ok?" "Yeah, but it looks like he will be looking forward to nose job number two." "Oh man," I laughed. "That really sucks. Give him my best." "I will," he said. "So will you be back in London soon?" "Not soon enough," I sighed. "Josh, I don't think my friends like me anymore." "Don't be silly," he said. "They are probably just upset because they never see you anymore." "I guess," I said, falling back into my pillows. "I miss seeing you. I feel out of place here." "Come on now, Nate. You're just tired." "And drunk," I added. I wanted to tell him more. I wanted to tell him that I was completely confused about every part of my life. I wanted to tell him that I didn't want to come out, but that I wanted to be an 'out' actor at the same time. Unfortunately, I couldn't see the point in trying to explain feelings that I didn't understand and that didn't make any sense. "I found out they're releasing the single this week," he said. "Wow, so you mean I will actually be able to hear it?" For all of JC's preparation for his second album, he refused to let me hear any of the completed versions of the songs. "The record company actually seems to be excited about it," he said. "They think it might do well." "I hope so," I said. "I'd love for you to have the success you deserve." "They've actually been a lot better about the whole 'coming out' thing than I originally thought they would be. I think they are more curious than anything now to see how the market reacts to gay artists." "And is being referred to as a 'gay artist' what you want?" I asked. "It doesn't bother me," he said. "Really, I just don't care at this point." "Ok, then," I said, realizing light was starting to come through the windows. "Well, I don't know what time it is where you are, but I've got to get some sleep." "Ok babe," he said. "I love ya, and I'll see ya soon." "Love you too," I said, snapping my phone closed and tossing it onto the pillow next to me. I pulled my bed sheets up over my shoulders, closed my eyes, and prayed for enlightenment. ---------- I arrived at the airport with my two bodyguards and Morris. "It's a shame you have to leave so soon," Morris said, handing me my carry-on case as we stepped out of the limousine. "Yeah," I said. "This was fun. It's weird to think that it will be almost another year before I come back to the states." "You will come back, right?" Morris asked. "Sure," I said nodding, though I realized I didn't sound convincing. "I mean, I guess I'm not really sure. With all these projects coming up, I'm going to be all over the place, wherever we end up filming." I thought for a moment. "I guess I don't really live anywhere anymore." "Aw, Nathaniel," Morris smiled. "You're making me all sad now. Don't say stuff like that. This is supposed to be a great time in your life." "That's what they keep telling me," I said. I reached over to give Morris a hug and a pat on the back. This was one of the unknown problems of fame, I thought. You stop being able to be close to anybody. You start to see the people you love less and less frequently, and you start to see the people you barely care about more and more. I knew that a lot of celebrities traveled with entourages, where they basically paid great deal of money to have their friends spend all of their time with them. But the very idea of it sounded kind of lame. All my friends had their own lives and jobs they liked. It wasn't like I could say, "Morris, quit your acting career and travel with me from the film set to the theater every day." "Good luck with the audition," I said, pulling my bag over my shoulder. "Thanks," he said. "Give me a call when you land." We said our goodbyes before I was whisked away into the airport, safely placed between Jerry and Jimmy as we headed toward the first class lounge. On certain days I was thrilled to have these two guys with me and today was definitely one of those days. They announced that I couldn't stop to sign autographs or pose for pictures. I didn't have to be the bad guy, or should I say that I didn't have to be the good guy who never wants to be the bad guy, and so he usually complies with the people's requests. Even in first class, a less than considerate child can repeatedly kick the back of your chair. Were I still anonymous, just a fellow citizen, I may have turned around and asked him to stop. Now that I was famous, I had to sit there and be kicked, afraid that tomorrow's tabloid headlines might read: "Nate Murray Hates Kids." I arrived in London, tired and sore. It was morning and I hadn't slept at all on the plane. I was silent on my way back to the townhouse, and after Jimmy and Jerry had placed my bags inside and left, I dragged myself up to the bedroom and flung myself onto the bed. There was a lot of creaking coming from the third floor, causing me to groan and roll onto my back. "Not now, boys," I yelled out. "Josh isn't here." To my vague surprise, the sounds came to a stop. Our friendly ghosts usually made themselves scarce when I was in the house alone, but I suppose they may have gotten lonely with both JC and I gone for the week. I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. I could feel that sleep would come quickly, and I was most thankful for that. I'd have to be back to the theater by five pm. My eyes opened and after the sleepiness drained out of them, I realized I was staring into another pair of eyes. "Hello sleeping beauty," JC said, smiling, placing a light kiss on my lips. "I didn't know you would get back so soon," I said, my body still too tired to move. "I missed you," he said. He was kneeling down by the bed so that his face was level with mine. I reached out my hand and pressed it against the side of his face. It was in these moments that I wished we lived in a vacuum. Right here, right now. I could stay in this room with JC forever. My hand moved down from JC's face until his hand was in mine. "Josh, I don't want to go outside anymore," I said. "Let's just pull the drapes closed and forget about the rest of the world." I pulled him toward me and he took his cue, getting up on the bed and sitting back against the headboard so that I could lay my head on his lap. "I just feel so confused lately," I continued. "I just get so I...I..." "Shh, shh," JC said, smoothing my hair back with his hand. "Don't talk. Just rest." I closed my eyes again, and drifted back to sleep. I woke up again, aware that it must be quite late at this point. To my surprise my head was still on JC's lap and I sat up to realize that he had fallen asleep, sitting on the bed. His long lashes hung down and his mouth hung slightly open. The flight from Fiji must have been really tiring. I looked over at the alarm clock and saw that it was four in the afternoon. I had just an hour to get ready and get to the theater. Before going into the bathroom, I turned around, to take one more look at my sleeping lover. There's nothing I won't do for him, I thought. Even if it meant ruining my career. Twenty minutes later, showered and shaved, I was back in the bedroom, getting my socks and underwear out of the dresser. "Looking pretty sexy over there," JC said. "Thanks," I said, pulling on my boxer-briefs and tossing the towel that was wrapped around my waist to the floor. "So, I'm awake now," JC smiled, patting the other side of the bed with his hand. "I have to get to the theater," I said, pushing the dresser drawer closed and walking over to the closet. I couldn't understand why I took any time deciding what to wear. I was always just going to the theater where I would have to change into my costume anyway. I picked a shirt and started to button it up, looking back at JC. "Oh my God," I said, suddenly realizing his condition and hurrying over to get a better look at him. "You're as red as a lobster!" "It hurts too," he sighed, giving me a playful frown. "But we had a good time." "Do you need something to put on it?" I asked, sounding just like my mother. "I have stuff," he said. "What I don't have is someone to help me." He gave me a little wink, which was followed by a little grimace. He really was uncomfortable. "Why didn't you say something earlier?" I said, sitting down next to him and starting to ease his shirt up over his head. "Ow. Ow. Ow." I removed his shirt and retrieved the lotion from his luggage. I turned back to take notice of his red chest, arms and back, squeezing some of the lotion onto my hand. "Hmm," I laughed, gently smoothing the cream onto his shoulders, watching him bite his bottom lip. "A very firm lobster, I should say." For a skinny, sunburnt guy, he really did have a well-developed body, clearly strong if not bulging. "Thanks," he said, turning around so I could do his back. "Were you in the sun from morning to night?" I asked, wondering how he got himself into such a state. "Pretty much," he said. "But I really overdid it the last day, when Lance's surfboard decided to give him some rough love." "He's going to end up looking like Michael Jackson if he keeps it up," I said, motioning for JC to turn back around. "Now for your front," I said, giving him a wink of my own. He smiled and eased himself down on the bed, putting one of his hands behind his head. I gently massaged the cream into his chest, unable to be unimpressed with the tightness of his muscles, briefly enjoying the feel of the tiny hairs on his chest dancing under my fingertips. My hands moved up and down the washboard he called his abs, and I could see the red line of his tan give way to the white skin below where his pants hung on his hips. "You know," he started. I knew immediately that it wasn't going to be an interesting fact about the Fiji islands. "I'm not burned down there." I looked up at him and received another wink. "Well," I grinned. "Then there's no reason for me to go anywhere near that area, is there?" "Aw Nate," he said, sounding like I had just told him to go to bed without supper. "He misses you so much." "Uh, 'he' will have to wait," I said. "I have to get to the theater." I looked down to notice a familiar bulge in JC's pants. The guy certainly didn't need much to get him excited. "See?" he said. "He's all ready to play and you're taking away his best friend." I grasped JC's free hand and brought it down to his crotch. "There," I said. "He can play with him. They're pretty familiar with each other, right?" I hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom to wash my hands. It wasn't that I didn't want to fool around with JC, it was that I really did have to get going. "Should we have a late dinner?" he called as I walked back into the bedroom. It was something we often did after a show. "That would be great," I said. "I can show you all the pictures I took with my new digital camera." "Cool," I smiled, walking over to the bed and leaning down to kiss him goodbye. I was taken to the theater, feeling a bit reenergized. I was back in familiar territory, back doing what I loved and back with the man I loved. Maybe I didn't do as well without JC around me. Maybe I could never explain what void he filled and maybe I shouldn't try to. A few hours later I was in my dressing room, removing my stage makeup. "Great comeback show," someone called, passing by. Comeback, I thought to myself, shaking my head. I was gone for a week. "I need to get home quickly tonight," I said to Jerry as he entered the room. "Can you bring the car around to the front entrance?" Jerry nodded and started speaking into his headset. It was a little trick us theater actors used once in awhile, though I always felt a little guilty for doing it. Wait for everyone to line up at the backstage entrance for autographs, and then dash out the way the audience originally came in. It wasn't nice, but it would get me home for dinner quickly. I closed the front door behind me, relishing the silence if only for a moment. JC was walking down the rather grand staircase, smiling comfortably. "Dinner is served," he said, reaching the ground floor. He was barefooted, wearing dark gray-checkered pajama bottoms and a light gray robe, tied loosely around his waist, exposing much of his chest. "Should I put my pjs on too?" I asked, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. "Depends on how hungry you are?" he answered. "Hmm, I guess I will change after," I said. We walked into the kitchen where the table was filled with various high-end take out items. It was amazing which restaurants were willing to deliver if you paid them enough. "Looks great," I said, sitting down, and placing a napkin on my lap. It was a casual meal, but JC had gone through the trouble of taking two large candles from the dining room and lighting them on the kitchen table. We ate quietly at first, but it wasn't long before JC began to tell me little anecdotes from his trip. I listened with interest, but also found myself concentrating on the way his lips moved, the way his eyes twinkled when he started to laugh. "I love you," I found myself saying, interrupting him in the middle of a story. He looked a little taken aback, but immediately reciprocated the sentiment. "Nate, are you ok?" he then asked. Oh God, I thought, I'm unraveling right here and now. He's worried that I am insane. "Yeah," I said. "Of course. It's just that I'm so much happier when I'm with you. I really love what we have together." "Me too," he said. "I missed you this week." He paused for a minute. "Nate, not that you have to have a reason for it, but I'm just curious to know if there is a reason why you are saying this right now." "With everything coming up," I began, "I'm afraid we aren't going to be able to spend so much time together. Things are going to get complicated with our whole 'coming out.' And when you add promoting your album to that and me making back to back films while still doing the play every night, well, it just feels like we are in for quite a ride." "We just have to make the time we have together count," he said. "Heck, everyone has to do that. We have to make it work because we want it to." This was a similar discussion to one we had long ago. I wondered why we found ourselves having it again. "I guess I just want everything to be simple," I said. "But nothing ever is." "It will be someday," JC said. "Maybe just not right now." A short while later, we found ourselves in bed, making out like teenagers. We were both exhausted, but even that fact couldn't keep our hands off of each other's bodies. Clothes slowly made their way to the floor and bodies slowly began to move through numerous positions. Eventually I sat astride JC, reaching for the nightstand to retrieve the bottle of lube. "Nate," JC said softly, his hand caressing the side of my face and moving down my neck. "I don't think I feel like it tonight." "That's ok," I said, squirting lubricant onto my hand and bringing it to his cock. "I do." JC let out a small gasp as my hand started moving the cool liquid up and down his shaft. This wasn't typical behavior for me, but tonight, I knew that I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel the closeness. It made me feel oddly protected, and knowing that I was going to be the source of his pleasure only made the event more intoxicating. I looked down to see that JC still had a bewildered expression on his face as I raised myself up on my knees and began to slowly lower myself onto him. "Oh, Nate," he sighed, feeling the head of his cock pop inside me. He moved his hands to my hips as I moved closer to him, his cock sending multiple sensations throughout my body. "God, I love you so much," I groaned, resting on top of him, trying to adjust to his size. I grabbed his shoulders and began to rock myself back and forth, up and down. The room was dark, the only light coming from the moon. Occasionally JC's hands would move to my stomach and up my chest. Occasionally he would lift himself up to kiss me or to take one of my nipples into his mouth. When I knew he was close I pulled him toward me, embracing him tightly, my hands pressed against his firm, smooth back, his head cradled in my neck. He released inside me, and shortly after that brought me to climax with his hand. Minutes later, we lay on the bed, our breathing slowly returning to normal and sleep encroaching upon us. If only we could just stay like this, I thought, no longer able to keep my eyes open. Why did life always have to get in the way of the things we really liked? ---------- Almost a week later, I was again sitting in my dressing room, removing my stage makeup. My cell phone rang and I answered knowing that it was JC. "Nate," he gasped. "You have to be home in twenty minutes." "Is everything ok?" I asked, a bit worried, though he didn't sound upset. I also didn't know if it was physically possible to get home in that amount of time. "Yeah," he said. "Just try, though, please?" I took a quick breath, knowing that I would say yes and feeling bad that once again I would be cutting off my fans. I closed the phone, stopped removing my makeup and told Jerry the plan. Sure enough we were soon speeding through London, and with probably only thirty seconds to spare, I was back in the townhouse, running toward JC's voice. He was in the library, on the computer, motioning me toward him. "I'm listening to one of the New York stations on the Web," he said. "They're about to premiere my song for the evening commute." He turned up the speakers and we soon heard the familiar voice of a New York DJ from New York's most popular radio station. "And now we've got something new for you guys from Mouseketeer-No More, JC Chasez. It's the first single from his upcoming second album, titled 'All You Need to Know.' Here's 'Give It!" Familiar chords that I had heard over and over again coming out of JC's keyboard were now coming out of the radio, only now they were a song. I looked at JC and he was positively beaming. This wasn't exactly a guy who wasn't used to hearing himself on the radio, but I could clearly see how much this was exciting him. I could hardly contain my own excitement, and once his vocals started, I decided not to, and so I started jumping up and down screaming. Soon we were both jumping up and down screaming, probably making the neighbors quite concerned. Before we knew it, the song was over and I hugged him tightly before we both fell back onto a nearby couch. "Josh, this is so fucking cool," I said. "You're such a rock star." "Thanks," he said. "It's still such a rush to hear your music on the radio, knowing that thousands or millions of people are hearing it." "And the song was awesome. I mean, it was really good." I slapped his chest playfully. "How could you not have played me the final version before now?" "I knew it would be more exciting this way," he said. His eyes grew large and he looked at me thoughtfully. "Do you think it might do well?" "If it doesn't," I said. "People are just nuts." It was one of those songs that you knew clubs would go nuts for. The beat was intense and original. The vocals were smooth and the lyrics were perfect pop: ripe with sexual innuendo, but not really about anything. I would have to say it was the most commercially viable song he had made to date, and I also knew why. JC really needed this song to be a big hit so that he could, for however briefly, be the toast of popular music. Then he would 'come out' and maybe, just maybe, the enthusiasm over his music would turn him into the first young openly gay and commercially successful pop star. JC's cell phone and the house phone almost started to ring in unison. They would both continue to ring for the next few hours as everyone he knew called to congratulate him. JC and I had been together for almost two years, but I still knew basically nothing about the music industry. I didn't know what process was involved in promoting an album and I didn't know that having your song premiere on the radio during the evening commute was a huge deal. Even after two films, I had barely learned what it took to promote a movie. I knew that at the heart of both these industries was the business of making money. For the most part, I had shown up solely to do the acting. I didn't try to get a percentage of the profits and the idea of ever being a producer was completely foreign to me. I had a financial planner and I made sure that my money was invested wisely, but that was about it for me. I acted and got paid for it. I was glad that I kept things simple as I watched JC walking all over the house, talking to different people about record sales, radio promotion, video production and everything else that was required to make him what he was. JC was an artist, but he was also a businessman. I was already in bed by the time JC finished. I was exhausted from a day of pretending to be in love with Gwyneth Paltrow and an evening of pretending to be the son of a fading Southern belle. I had to stop keeping such late hours, I thought, feeling JC slip into the bed, his arms wrapping around me. I was half-asleep, too tired to talk, but I moved my arm over his. He kissed my neck and settled down next to me. He was exhausted too. It was a sign of things to come. ---------- A few more weeks passed and before I knew it, my twenty-eighth birthday was seven days away. While I was certainly in no rush to get older, there was an excitement surrounding this birthday, as I was now a bona-fide celebrity. The guest list for my party was strictly A-list, and the list had become quite long. I decided to have the party in London, in our townhouse. It was the best way to keep the paparazzi from photographing the entire event. It was early Saturday morning. I was startled awake by the slamming of a dresser drawer. "What's going on?" I asked, still groggy, my eyes adjusting to the light. "I told you yesterday," JC said quickly, opening another drawer and slamming it closed. "I have to go make the video today. Don't you ever listen to me?" "Um, it's 5:30 in the morning Josh," I said defensively. "Forgive me if I momentarily forgot." "Whatever," he said, picking up his cell phone and stuffing it into his pocket. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that JC was angry. He headed toward the bedroom door, indicating that he was planning on leaving without saying anything else. "You're not even going to say goodbye?" I asked, sitting up and staring at him with a bewildered expression. He stopped short but didn't immediately turn around. Slowly, he faced me, looking a little embarrassed. "Um, I'm sorry, Nate," he said quietly. "It's not you. It's me." "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" I asked, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. "There isn't any time," he said. "I'm already late." I nodded but noticed that he wasn't moving. "God, I'm just so sick of this!" he yelled. "I'm supposed to go and make this totally sexually ambiguous video, and it scares the hell out of me. I don't know what people are going to think, and I know that I'm not supposed to care, but I'm worried. If all of this doesn't turn out to be successful, I'm just going to end up being the queer guy from NSYNC!" "Ok," I said. "But Josh, you are doing this for yourself and the gay community." I was repeating his words from the past. "You can't both do this and be worried about the outcome." "It's just all this waiting," he sighed. "First we have to see how the single does. Then the video. Then the album. I just want to tell everyone already. I want to tell them all right now. JC Chasez takes it up the ass!" "Josh," I said, a bit shocked. "Before," he continued, "when I had no intention of ever saying anything it was fine, but now, now that I do want to tell, I feel like I'm being slowly strangled." "Josh, it will be fine. Just go make the video and relax. "This could be so embarrassing, Nate," JC said. "The director really wants to push the boundaries. There won't be any going back after this." "Do you want to go back?" I asked, my eyebrows raising slightly. Maybe JC was trying to tell me that he wasn't as prepared for all of this as he thought. "No," he said quickly, his eyes dashing downward for a moment. "I've just got to remember that this is the best way to do this. Then I will be happy, the record label will be happy, and, well, hopefully the fans will be happy." "Josh," I said, wanting to remind him of something good before he left. "The single is about to crack the top ten and it's only been out for two weeks. Things are going really well." "Yeah," he said. "You're right. I certainly never thought I would see that happen. Not on my own, anyway." He smiled mildly, and then said he would call me later as he headed out the door and bounded down the steps. Less than ten seconds later I heard the large front door closing, amused at the speed at which my former NSYNC-er could travel. ---------- "He kind of flipped out this morning," I said, stabbing at my salad with my fork. "Really?" Gwyneth asked. "He doesn't seem the type. Is he having second thoughts about coming out?" "I'm not sure," I said, shrugging my shoulders and taking another bite. "It's just the first time I've seen him act confused in a long time." From the day JC told me about his plans to 'come out,' it had been a series of quick and deliberate decisions without any hesitation. That's what made me believe that it was what he truly wanted to do, and why I wanted to support him even at the expense of my own career. "It's all becoming real, now," Gwyneth said. "He probably just needs to adjust to that." "I suppose," I said. I put down my fork and looked around the set. "God," I sighed. "Are we almost done making this movie?" Gwyneth laughed and blotted her lips with a napkin. "Two more weeks," she said. "The director promised." "Good," I said. "That should be just in time for our Barbara Walters interview." "I still can't believe you are going to do this," she said. "I wanted you to do this movie with me because I thought that would help it do well." "What?" I asked, pretending to be offended when in reality we had already discussed this a million times. "I thought you wanted me for my talent." "Oh, that too," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "Are you coming next Saturday?" I asked. "I would never miss your thirtieth," she smiled. "It's my twenty-eighth," I said, my teeth clenched. "Come on," she said, standing up. "We have to get back on the set. Are you ready for me to slap you around?" "Isn't that what we've just been doing?" We filmed a couple of scenes, and then it was time for me to get over to the West End for my nightly performance. I had really become an acting machine over these past few months. Few people could say that I wasn't really working hard. When I returned home that evening, JC was nowhere to be found. I called his cell phone, but there was no answer. It was hard to get too worked up about where he was, because when you were dating a celebrity, you basically knew that he had a bunch of people with him at all times. Still, it was unusual not to have heard form him all day. Not feeling quite ready to go to bed, I decided to call all of the people in the U.S. that I had invited to my birthday party. I started with my parents, moved to my brother, then finished up with my friends. As it turned out, Maggie was the only person from my circle of New York theater friends that was able to make it. She told me that she was bringing someone that I would be most interested in meeting, but refused to say anymore. It was nearly one in the morning when I heard the front door open. I was in bed, reading a script, but closed it while I waited for JC to make his appearance. "Hi," he said, tossing his bag onto the floor and starting to unbutton his shirt. He looked tired. Weary. "Hi," I said. "I tried calling you all day. I kept getting your voicemail." "Sorry," he said. "I forgot to charge it last night, so the battery died pretty quickly." "Oh, ok," I said, finding myself opening up the script again. I wanted to ask him why he hadn't thought to call me, but I didn't. JC went into the bathroom, then returned in his boxer-briefs and climbed into bed. "Are you going to keep reading?" he asked, rolling onto his side, facing away from me. "I'm really tired." "No," I said, closing the script once again and turning off my bedside lamp. I thought that he would have come home wanting to tell me all about the video shoot, but apparently he didn't want to talk at all. I could tell that he was closing himself off, but I didn't know what there was for me to do about it. JC was an adult. I couldn't continually badger him every day to tell me about his feelings and discuss them to exhaustion. The weird thing was, I didn't know how much I really wanted to. --------- Two days later, I was home for the evening since there wasn't a Monday night show. I was thinking it would be a good chance to talk to JC since we hadn't spoken much lately. He had spent most of Sunday hermited in his makeshift studio, only to leave for the evening with the two guys who comprised Basement Jaxx. There was a growing distance between us, and neither one of us seemed to be trying to stop it. I walked into the living room, determined to put things back on track. Almost immediately I noticed JC staring at the television, a look of hatred on his face. "What on earth warrants a look like that?" I asked, looking over at the television. "Would you look at this shit?" he said, glaring at the TV. It was obviously the rough cut of his video, and he obviously didn't like it. I looked at the screen, thinking that while it didn't look like a particularly memorable video, it certainly looked fine. "Look at me," he said, pointing to the screen. "Dancing with barely dressed girls AND guys behind me. And these shots here look like a God dam orgy!" "Josh, the video is supposed to be hot, isn't it? Didn't you want it to show some sexuality between you and the male dancers?" "I look like such a fag," he said, turning it off and storming out of the room. "What kind of a thing is that to say?" I asked, following him into the kitchen. Christ, why did we always end up in the kitchen? "Come on, Nate. Everyone's always thought that I acted a bit girly, and now here I am, in a sleeveless shirt with muscular guys practically sweating on me." "I like it," I said. "It was hot. People will think it is hot." "People will think it is gay. It will be shown once and never seen again." "Um, Josh, first of all, if the song keeps doing as well as it is, the video isn't going to disappear. And second, isn't this kind of the whole friggin' point? To let people know you are gay?" JC ran his fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling. "You're right!" he yelled. "As usual there is no reason for me to be upset at all," he said sarcastically. "Thank you for always making me feel like I'm just being an irrational idiot." "What the hell are you talking about now?" I shouted. "Why don't you call up the video director and bitch him out if you're in a bad mood?" "You don't give a shit about what it's like for me to go through this, do you?" he asked. I was having trouble judging whether he was actually serious or just trying to win an argument for the sake of winning one. "What it's like for you?" I shrieked, almost with a laugh. "Josh, have you ever given any thought to the fact that you haven't once asked me how I thought this would affect my career? You haven't once asked me if I was worried that I may never work again. I mean, that's real cute that you've already had years of being on top and have fifty million dollars in the bank, but I haven't had those things yet. Those are the things I'm willing to give up for you!" "Don't do me any favors," he said, walking out of the kitchen. I could feel my blood boiling. What the hell was going on? "You're leaving?" I asked, watching him pull on his jacket. "In the middle of an argument?" "It's the best way to end one," he said, finding the set of keys we had to our rental car on the table near the door. He opened the door and walked out, not even closing the door behind him. For a guy who thought he acted girly, he was certainly behaving like a typical male. For a moment I stood where I was, completely dumfounded, motionless. I quickly came back to reality and walked over to the door where I could see him getting into the car. "Fucking coward!" I yelled, slamming the door closed. It was me at my most melodramatic. I marched up the stairs and into the bedroom, rage coursing through me. I wanted to do something, but had no idea what that something should be. Had I gone completely nuts, or was I completely right? I had gotten myself into such a habit of thinking I was the person who kept messing things up, that I found it difficult to assign any blame to JC. Apparently, that had changed tonight. I had tried to be understanding and reassuring, and was met with open hostility. I hadn't done anything wrong. It was a weird feeling but it was also a pretty familiar one. It was the feeling of being myself. I sat down on the bed and started to look through magazines, eventually moving on to my scripts and then to the large novel that had been sitting on the nightstand for months. I should have gone out as well, but since I originally had been looking forward to an evening at home, I wasn't going to let a little thing like JC storming out of the house take that away from me. It was after one in the morning when I heard the car come to a stop outside the house. I quickly turned off the light and tucked myself under the covers. Maybe it was childish, but I was mad and I wanted him to know that I didn't want to talk to him. A few minutes later, the light from the hallway poured in as JC opened the door. I assumed he would head into the bathroom or take a blanket and leave, but instead I felt him climbing onto the bed, his hand tentatively grasping my shoulder. "Nate," he called softly. My shoulder tensed, revealing that I was not asleep. "Nate, I'm so sorry," he said. He pressed his forehead against my back, then kissed my shoulder. "I'm an idiot," he said. "Please don't stay mad at me." His kisses traveled up my neck, and I could feel my resolve melting a little, though I was still hurt and confused. "If you're unhappy with your life, then change it," I said. "I can't be in charge of your happiness twenty-four seven." "I know," he said. "You know that I get beside myself sometimes and I have to figure out why that is. But I also know that you know how much I love you. I couldn't ask to have anyone more wonderful in my life." He was still kissing my neck intermittingly and I had to resist the impulse to roll onto my back and pull him on top of me. "I know you love me," I said. "And I love you. But for some reason we are not communicating like we used to, and that's something we have to work on." I wanted to say that he was the one having the problem communicating, but it seemed less harsh to say that we were both a bit culpable. "We will," he said, rolling me onto my back and kissing my lips fully. His leather jacket was still on, making crunchy sounds against my chest. My hands soon found there way to his back, and before I knew it, we were making love, JC hurriedly pulling off his clothes and tossing them to the floor as I pulled off my t-shirt and crushed him against me. JC rode me hard that night, moaning loudly, his hands almost painfully gripping my chest as I thrusted inside of him. I knew that having sex with him was not a way to solve our problems, but I also knew how hard he was to resist. ---------- Things improved the next morning, and stayed steady through much of the week. In between the film, the play and my English dialect classes for the next film I would be making, I set about making all the arrangements for my party. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted it to be a party that the entertainment news shows would be talking about for days, even if they were unable to catch a glimpse of it. All the while JC had been more quiet than usual, and his outbursts seemed to have stopped. He spent a lot of time on the phone with different executives, discussing every aspect of his career. I also suspected that he spent a lot of time alone, as he would frequently be out of the house, only to return with nothing of interest to report. Ok, I would think to myself, running from one task to the next. This is a difficult time for him. Not only did he have the normal pressures of an album coming out, but he was about to come out as well. Whenever I would ask him if he was having second thoughts he would immediately answer in the negative, and I worried about pressing him on the issue too much because I didn't want him to think I was trying to make him doubt his own decision for my own personal benefit. JC's record company had managed to secure an interview with Barbara Walters without letting her know of the subject matter. The deal was that we would discuss the topic with her closer to the time under the condition that she not report any of the discussions that would take place off camera. In return, it would be up to her station whether or not to air the final interview. JC's album was going to be released at the end of the month, which is when we would fly to New York to do the interview. His record company was hoping that the interview would air after the first week of sales. It was the day before my birthday, and I had a few hours in between filming and the play to do some last minute party preparations. My A-list friends thought that it was ridiculous that I did not have an assistant to help me with these things, but the last thing I wanted was to have another stranger lurking around the house all the time. It was hard enough getting JC to stop moving Carlos around with him. "Hi, Nate," JC said when I walked into the living room. He was playing some sort of video game on the television with an intense look on his face. "Having fun?" I asked, dialing the florist on the phone. "Yep," he said, rapidly pressing one of the buttons on the controller he was holding. "Were you able to pick up the wine glasses I ordered?" "Nope," he said, his tongue coming out of his mouth as his other hand began to rapidly press a button. "Sorry." I shook my head and confirmed the flower delivery on the phone, heading back out of the room. "You know," I started, turning back toward him. "I understand that you are really busy, but why did you say you were able to get the glasses if you knew you couldn't?" JC let out a small sigh and paused his game, looking over at me. "Do you want me to go right now?" he asked. "This is the first hour I have enjoyed myself in a week." "No, I'll go," I said with a bit more attitude than I had originally intended. Was I trying to start a fight? "If I'm late to the play, they can always just ask the audience to wait." "Nate, why is either one of us picking anything up?" he asked. "Why didn't you just send Jimmy or one of my guys?" "Jimmy is a bull in a china shop," I said. "They're custom made crystal goblets. I wanted them treated carefully." This was a stupid argument. I knew that. "And I would have sent someone else if you hadn't said you would do it." "Fine," he said, standing up. "I'm going right now." He started walking toward me. "Josh, stop," I said, putting out my hand. "This is so not something worth fighting about." "Nate, I don't mind," he said flatly. "I did say I would do it, so I'm going to go do it." "Wait," I said, getting an idea. "Why don't we both go? We've hardly seen each other this week. It will be fun." "Um, ok," he said, giving me a strange look. I could tell that he was thinking that if I was able to go with him, I could just as easily go by myself. But he didn't say anything, and so we headed off to the glass factory in pursuit of my monogrammed wine glasses. JC sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking out the window. "Was that Justin you were talking to last night when I got home?" I asked, trying desperately to think of something to talk about. "Yeah," he said. "How does he feel about all this?" "He's not too happy," he said, a brief smile coming to his lips. "I first had to spend nearly an hour convincing him that you weren't the one behind the whole decision." I let out a small chuckle. "Then I had to hear about how I was destroying any chance of NSYNC ever getting back together after this, and that I might also end up destroying our record company." "What did you say?" I asked with interest. "I told him to fuck off," he said confidently. "I told him that I had spent my life accommodating everyone else, and that this was my chance to do something just for myself." "Wow," I said, wondering where JC thought I stood in this equation. Was it even possible that he wasn't considering me at all? We got the glasses and rushed back to the house before I had to rush back to the theater. "Maggie and my family should be here around nine," I said, practically running out the door. "You'll be here for them, right?" "Yeah," JC called from the living room. "You're sure?" I asked again. I didn't want to come home to see them all sitting on the front stoop. "Yes," he called again, a bit louder. "I'll be here." ---------- I embraced Maggie a bit harder than I intended, but I was so happy to see another person I loved. "You're really living the high life here," she said, greeting me on the front stoop after, thankfully, emerging from inside the house. "Yeah," I said. She took my hand and led me into the living room where I greeted Edward and my parents, who all rushed over to me. I looked over to see that JC was in the living room as well, sitting in a chair, drinking a glass of wine. His cell phone rang, and he smiled politely at everyone before getting up and exiting the room. "What's wrong with the two of you?" Maggie asked as soon as he left. "What are you talking about?" I feigned, my eyes widening to tell her that I didn't want to discuss my relationship in front of my family. "You too looked at each other like strangers," my mother said, reminding me of where I had inherited my powers of observation from. "Yeah, normally you two are all over each other," Edward laughed, looking at my parents. "I know," he said. "I used to live here. You should have seen them." "That's enough, Edward," my dad said, shaking his head. "Everything is fine," I offered. "We're both just under a lot of stress. We've been working very hard." "You look terrific, son," my dad said. "Thank you," I replied. We all talked for a while and I helped all of them get settled into their different rooms, opting to keep them all on the second floor so as to reduce the risk of any of them encountering our supernatural housemates. After getting everyone unpacked, my mother asked if she could see me in her room. I smiled at the others and went to visit her. Closing the door behind me, I had only made it a few steps before there was a knock at the door, followed by Maggie's head popping in. "Are we about to have girl talk?" she smiled, blinking her eyes. "Yes," my mother smiled at the two of us. "Both of you come and sit down." I rolled my eyes at the two of them as they both looked at me with great interest. I sat down next to my mother on the bed, and Maggie pulled over a chair, placing her hands on my knee. "Where's your mystery man?" I asked her. "He'll be here tomorrow," she said quickly. "Now tell us what is wrong." I looked back and forth between the two of them, almost wanting to laugh at their matching expressions. Apparently Maggie and my mother had become good friends on the flight over, and now I was supposed to share everything with them. Slowly, I started to explain that JC and I had been bickering a lot lately. I told them about his mood swings and how I was really starting to feel ambivalent toward the whole 'coming out' subject. It felt good to be talking about it, but in the end we all concluded that we just couldn't completely tell what JC's problem was. Sure we knew it had to do with his album and 'coming out,' but whether it was stress about doing the right thing, or stress about not wanting to do it all, we could not know. "Just try to be understanding," my mom said. "Don't stop communicating. You have to open to listening to him, and he will tell you." I thought that was what I was doing, but maybe I was aggravated too. Maybe I should talk to him again. Maybe we could just hash it out and start moving forward again. We all had a late dinner, and then I had to go to bed, leaving the others on their own to figure out the best way to deal with the time change. JC remained quiet but pleasant throughout the meal, and politely answered all the questions my mother threw at him in an attempt to get him to relax. "Happy birthday," JC said to me, alone in the bedroom, pointing to the clock that had passed midnight. "Thanks," I said. "Though I think we have to go by eastern U.S. time for that." "I hope you have fun tomorrow," he said, climbing into bed. "It's going to be a lot of people." I slid under the covers next to him and propped my head up with my elbow. "I hope you have fun too, Josh," I said. "You seemed so serious tonight." "Yeah," he said. "Can we talk about it?" I asked. "It's just stress, Nate," he said. "It will all be over in a few weeks. I just don't feel like discussing anything anymore." I didn't really know how to respond to a statement like that, so I simply nodded and kissed his cheek, telling him that it was ok just as long as he knew that I was here for him. Trying to fall asleep and trying to mentally prepare myself for the next day proved to be a daunting task. I laid there for what felt like hours, staring up at the dark ceiling, wondering perhaps for the first time if my love life would look very different to me by my next birthday. ---------- Despite my stresses, I still managed to pull off a terrific party. Paparazzi lined our quaint, fashionable block, and nearly every celebrity within a stone's throw of England seemed to find their way to party. There was great music, great food and great wine. Laughter was a constant sound. As host and birthday boy, I had the enviable task of both enjoying myself and making sure that everything went as planned. Everywhere I walked, a person would pull me over into a conversation where I would laugh, nod and ease myself away. It was, to date, the most significant proof of my arrival as a celebrity. All eyes were on me as I moved about. Once again it was one of those times where I realized I was on the verge of having everything, though now the only thing threatening that dream was mine and JC's decision to 'come out.' Throughout the evening I would frequently notice JC watching me, neither annoyed nor thrilled. He was simply watching me, and I wondered how much more of this uncertainty I was supposed to stand. "Natty," Maggie called, motioning me over to her. She took my hand and started leading me up the stairs. "Come on," she said. "It's time you introduced me to your roommates." "Maggie, I have guests," I laughed, following her lead. "Please," she sighed. "They can continue fawning over you in ten minutes." "By the way," I said, giving up. "Congrats on the man candy." "He's fabulous isn't he?" she said, leading me up to the third floor. "It's a shame we are breaking up next week." "What?" I asked, completely flabbergasted. "Some other time," she said. We entered the attic portion of the third floor. It looked like it was made to be filmed. Without its knowledge it had cast itself in the role of spooky Victorian attic, complete with random pieces of antique furniture, and large objects covered in dusty white cloths. "So, introduce me to the boys," Maggie said, wandering around the room. "It doesn't work like that, exactly," I said. "Come to think if it, I've only been up here once. This has really just been Josh's space." "That's a shame," she said, her hands dancing over the top of an old writing desk. "Look at how beautiful all of this stuff is." She raised the roll top of the desk and looked at it a bit closer while I made my way over to the windows, curious to see the view from this vantage point. "Uh, Natty," Maggie called suddenly. "I think you should come take a look at this." "What is it?" I asked, walking toward her. She was holding a small black velvet box in the palm of her hand. "It was in one of the drawers," she said apologetically. I swallowed hard and took it from her. "Maybe it's old," I said, though I could tell from the boxes condition that it was brand new. I took a deep breath and opened it. Inside was a platinum ring. "Wow," was all I could say. I picked up the ring and examined it closer, as though I needed more confirmation as to what it was. Inscribed on the underside of the ring were two sets of initials, J.C. and N.M. Eyes wide, I looked up at Maggie, who had tears moving down her face. "Oh, Natty," she started. "This is so beautiful. He's going to propose to you." "Can he do that?" I asked, wondering how all that would work. "Why the hell not?" she retorted. I could feel an excitement rising within me, though I was also struggling to quell it. "But things have been so strained between us," I said. "Wait a minute. Do you think this is why he's been acting this way? You think he is having second thoughts?" "No, no," Maggie said. "Maybe the decision is just making him nervous. Maybe he's worried that you might say 'no.' If you combine that stress along with all the other problems he's facing, I would say his behavior has been down right understandable." "I don't know," I said, afraid to get too excited. It didn't all make sense, but I had to admit that the uncovering of an unknown variable made it a strong contender for the reasons behind JC's actions. "Oh my God," I said, suddenly realizing. "Our anniversary is tomorrow." "This is so sweet," she said. "And just a bit corny like I would expect him to do." "What's that supposed to mean?" I laughed, surprised at the feeling of a small tear in my eye. I was starting to feel a lot of regret for my own behavior these past few weeks. Here was JC, about to formally tell me that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, and I was yelling at him to pick up glasses. "I guess this is going to make the car I bought him seem a little less intimate," I said, placing the ring back in its box. "He must really love you," Maggie said. "This makes it all worth it then, doesn't it?" I asked. I felt like I was entering a new world. I had never expected something like this from JC, and it served to reaffirm my commitment to him. No matter what would happen in the coming weeks, I was going to be assured of his love and of his desire to be with me no matter what. Maggie took the box from me and placed it back inside the desk where she found it. It was a clever hiding place really. I never would have come up here if Maggie hadn't forced me. We made our way back downstairs where I saw JC standing in a corner, talking to a few people. He looked up at me and I couldn't help but smile, hoping that he didn't suspect where I had just been. He smiled back and a familiar flutter returned inside my heart. He was the man I loved, and knowing that made it ok if my career was about to come to an end. Later, after everyone had left, after our house guest went to bed, JC and I stood in the foyer, surprised that our guests had not nearly made as much of a mess of things as we would have anticipated. "Did you have fun?" JC asked, picking some things up off of the floor. "It was great," I said. "It was the kind of party I could only have dreamed of having." "I'm glad," he said. "You deserve it." "Thank you," I said seriously. In my mind I was saying, "yes, I accept your proposal." "Tomorrow will be our second anniversary," I said, wanting to see what he might say to that. "Of the day we first fucked?" he asked innocently, giving me a wink. "Of the day we met," I said, shaking my head. "Yeah," he said. "How about that?" We put a few things away and headed upstairs. I guess he was going to make me wait until tomorrow. I wondered if he would go so far as to ask my parents for permission. "Are you blushing?" JC asked, looking at me on the way up the stairs. "No, no," I said, hurrying up and into the bedroom. Once we were both in bed I positioned myself over JC and kissed him hungrily. "Aren't you tired?" he asked. "Just the opposite," I said, sliding my hand into his pajama bottoms. A half-hour later, I rolled off of JC, watching his chest rapidly rise and fall. "That was energetic," he said, smiling and rolling onto his side to face me. "I love you," I said, moving my hand toward him. "I love you too," he said, taking my hand into his. --------- Nothing could prepare me for what happened the next day. Nothing. We all had a big breakfast together followed by an afternoon of sightseeing in London. All day long I kept looking at JC for signs of nervousness or excitement, but he seemed relatively calm as we moved Maggie and my family from one museum to the next. Toward the evening, everyone went off on their own, knowing that JC and I had dinner plans for just the two of us. We went to one of our favorite restaurants, and while I didn't think he would propose in such a public place, I knew it would be coming soon after as he told me we were going someplace 'very special' afterward. Wanting to get my own gift out of the way, over dessert I decided to be cute and just toss the keys to a brand new two-seater BMW onto the table. "Nate," he said, his eyes widening and his mouth turning into a smile. "What did you do?" He picked up the keys and examined them closer. "You said you liked it in the window," I said, pretending to treat it as though it was nothing more than a pair of shoes. "I just figured you shouldn't have to ride around town in a rental anymore." "My God, I could just kiss you," he said, shaking his head. "So what's stopping you?" I asked, looking around the restaurant. Wasn't this the kind of thing we would soon be seen doing all over the world? JC paused for a moment, looking around the room as well. He came at me as though his seat had an eject button on it, and before I knew it I had been kissed and he was placing his napkin back on his lap. Ok, I thought to myself. This is progress. With dinner and dessert out of the way, JC asked me if I was ready for what was going to come next. "Yes," I almost yelled, hurrying back into the car. We were driven into the center of London, eventually parking in front of Harrod's. JC climbed out of the car and I followed. We went to the front entrance and I was surprised to find that it was still open at this late hour. We were greeted by a young woman who seemed very happy to be welcoming the two of us. I wondered if she was in on what was about to happen. "Ok," JC said, turning to me. "Now maybe you won't find this exciting, but at least I know it's something you haven't done before." "Certainly not," I laughed. It wasn't even legal in the United States. JC gave me a strange look but continued. "For the next few hours, or for however long it takes you, this entire store is ours and ours alone." He smiled brightly and gestured with his hand. "Whatever you want you can have. The sky is the limit." He might as well have picked up one of the nearby umbrellas and stabbed me through the heart with it. This had to be some sort of joke. "Are you serious?" I asked, trying to sound like I was surprised when what I really wanted to know was if he was serious. "Yes," he said. "It will be so much fun. Let's break the bank!" I smiled because he and the woman were smiling. Before I knew it I was up in the men's section, looking through an assortment of cashmere sweaters. Where was the ring? Where was the fucking ring? Shopping was perhaps the last thing I wanted to be doing as I began to contemplate the possibility that JC had planned on proposing to me but had changed his mind. How could this be happening, I thought. Was it my fault? I started throwing things into bags not because I wanted them, but because I wanted to get this present over with in case the real present was somehow still coming. I told myself that maybe this was just a prelude. I didn't want to accept the fact that JC was giving no indication of something important being on his mind. Several thousand dollars and three hours later, we were back in the car, headed back toward the townhouse. I couldn't believe what a fool I had been. I could have kicked myself. When would I ever get my priorities straight? Here I was, day after day struggling to come to the right decision about our future, only to realize that my number one priority would always be JC, just as he was realizing he wasn't ready to make a permanent commitment to me. I watched him like a hawk as he got ready for bed, pulling on a tank top, brushing his teeth and washing his face. I was looking for any sign of something still to come. I was under the covers when he switched off the light and got into bed. "I hope you had fun," he said. "I did," I said. "It was definitely an eye opening experience." He leaned over and gave me a kiss before settling back down on his side of the bed. "Happy anniversary," he said. "Happy anniversary to you too," I replied. "Josh?" "Yeah?" he answered. "Did you forget something tonight?" It was a stupid question. It was a desperate attempt to see that the universe did operate in a foreseeable pattern. "Oh, of course," he said. "Thank you so much for the car. I can't wait to see it." "No, Josh, that's not what I meant," I sighed. "Oh," he said. "Um, then no. I don't think I forgot anything." "Ok," I said, rolling away from him and closing my eyes. ---------- "This is why I was always right in putting myself first," I yelled at Maggie over lunch in the West End. "I'm not the kind of guy who centers his whole life around his partner." I had to keep lowering my voice to keep other patrons from staring at me. "Look at me," I said. "I'm a total mess. I'm about to ruin my career for a guy who doesn't love me." "Of course he loves you," Maggie said. "He just doesn't seem to want to marry you." "It's not like I was even thinking about getting married," I continued. "But once it was on the table and then taken off of it, well, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?" "I wish we just never found the ring," she said. "Natty, maybe it just wasn't the right time for him. Maybe he's planning on doing it soon." "No," I said. "Last night would have been perfect. He had to be originally planning it for last night. I know him too well. Christ, even you knew he would do something corny like that!" "He is under a lot of stress. Maybe he just wants to have everything resolved in himself before he makes such a grand gesture to you." "I can't even believe we're having this conversation. It's just too bizarre." "So what are you going to do?" Maggie asked. "Are you going to say something to him?" "Yeah," I said sarcastically. "I'm going to ask him why he didn't propose to me with the ring he has up in the attic." I shook my head and took a big sip of my coffee. "No. I'm going to go ahead with everything as planned," I said, my jaw clenching and my eyes steady. "Are you serious?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide with concern. "With all this uncertainty surrounding everything?" "Yep," I said. "I want to see just how far Josh is willing to go. I want to know if he's capable of putting me through all of this when he's not even sure that we are going to go through the aftermath of it together." My resolve was unwavering. Career or no career, I was going to see this to the end. "Natty, I really hope you know what you are doing," Maggie said. "Me too," I replied. ---------- Two more weeks passed. No ring materialized. In fact, it disappeared from the attic shortly after our anniversary. Emotionally, I had shut myself off from JC, even though I continued to act pleasant. In the meantime, JC's single continued to rise up the charts and his video was performing well on MTV. It was the day before our Barbara Walters interview and I was sitting in my agent's office surrounded by him and a small group of other people who apparently had a stake in my career. "Don't do this," Allen pleaded, turning his palms up on the polished conference table. "Not like this. Not now." I shifted my eyes to the large window behind him. The view of mid-town Manhattan was a familiar but pleasant sight. I sighed. I had to move back to the city. "Nate," Allen continued, resisting the temptation to snap his fingers in order to get my attention. "The offers continue to pour in every day. Every director wants you. Every actor wants to be cast opposite you. And now Burberry has called." "Burberry?" I repeated, wondering what the hell he was talking about. "What do they want?" "They want you to be the new face of their company. They want your face on billboards all over the world. According to them you are..." Allen stopped to read from a paper in front of him. "The epitome of gentle sophistication and brooding masculinity." He pushed the paper away from him. "What do you have to say about that?" he said, thinking he had pulled a rabbit out of his sleeve. "You're saying that Burberry won't want me to model their clothes if I'm openly gay?" I wasn't defending my position. I was just repeating the script I had been spitting out for months. "What do you think?" A man sitting opposite me with too much product in his hair said. "Who are you?" I asked, raising my shoulders. "Nate, just listen to me," Allen said. "We're not talking an appearance fee. We're talking an endorsement deal worth millions of dollars. Don't just brush this off." "I'm not a model, Allen," I said, though I couldn't believe I was saying it. Inside, I wanted to jump out of my skin I was so excited about the prospect. "Nate." "So close the deal," I said to him. "Tell them I'll do it. Whatever happens, happens." "We're not just worried about the Burberry campaign," Allen continued. "You know that what is most in jeopardy is your acting career." "You mean my film career," I corrected. "God, you act like half of Hollywood isn't gay already." "Making movies and picking up guys is one thing," the man with too much product in his hair said. "Talking to Barbara Walters is something else." "Whoa," I said, standing up. It was time for some drama. "I don't remember signing a contract at any point saying that any of you had any control over my personal life." The volume of my voice was loud but steady. "I didn't come here to be told what to do. I came here to listen to what you had to say and to decide for myself." I put my hands down by my sides. "And I have decided," I said. "I've decided that I will do exactly what I want, exactly when I want. If that's not ok with the studio or the producers or even fucking Burberry, then that's just too bad." I looked over at the man with too much product in his hair. "As for you," I began. "If you ever say another word to me or try to trivialize my lifestyle in any way, I will put my foot so far up your ass your going to have to open your mouth for me to tie the laces." I saw the man's eyes widen as I turned and exited the office. Shortly after I left, I called Allen to tell him that it was nothing personal. I knew that he had always been in my corner and I knew that he was just watching out for my best interests, even if he did profit from them. He said he understood and wished me well. I couldn't back down now, I thought to myself. Even if I was doing it for JC. Even if he didn't love me. I had committed myself to doing this and this was what I wanted to do. It would be the surest way to know where I stood in the eyes of JC, myself and the world. ---------- The next day was the interview. JC and I were both in my New York apartment getting ready, talking about how there would be no turning back after this. In the past two weeks, JC had maintained his quietness and his distance, suggesting that his mind was still a jumble of his thoughts. Now he was practically silent. "You ok?" I asked, pulling on a pair of jeans. "Yep," he said, buttoning up his shirt and walking over to the mirror. "You know, they'll do your hair when we get there," I smiled, walking to stand next to him while he messed with his recently shorter locks. I put my hand around his waist and he pulled away. "I have to get ready," he said quietly, moving across the room to put on his shoes. If anyone was watching this scene, they would probably be asking at least one of us what the hell we were doing. Why was JC doing this if he didn't really want to? Why was I doing this for him when I knew he had changed his mind about wanting to marry me? They were good questions, but unfortunately both of us seemed to be running on automatic pilot. We finished dressing and took a car to the restaurant we had rented out for the interview. We had a terrible time deciding where the interview should take place. All I demanded was that it not be my apartment. It was the last threshold of privacy to me, and I wasn't willing to give that up. Sitting next to JC at the table, watching beads of sweat start to form on his forehead, I got the feeling that things may not go exactly as planned today. "Barbara is stuck in traffic," a production assistant said. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?" "No," JC forced out of his mouth. It was a shame because he looked like he could use a drink. "Don't tell me you're nervous," I laughed, placing a light punch on JC's arm. "We've been planning this for months." "I know," was all he said, nervously clapping his hands together. A few minutes passed, giving me time to reflect on this experience. I was surprisingly calm. Maybe I had lost my mind, or maybe I just didn't care anymore. I couldn't be sure. The only thing that I did know was that, no matter what was about to happen, my life would never be the same again. I was resolved to that in some way. Maybe in some way it was an exhilarating experience for me to just give up control. I had friends, I had family and I had money. If my career path was to end up as a recurring character on 'Will & Grace,' then so be it. There was always theater. "Nate," JC said, suddenly, pulling me away from my thoughts. I turned to look at him. He eyes were wide and glassy. His skin was as pale as a ghost. His chest was quickly rising and falling. "I'm sorry," he said, standing up and walking toward the exit. "Josh," I called, jumping to my feet. He continued walking, but I didn't follow. I made my way to the window to see him climb into the back of the car we had taken to the restaurant. The car shortly thereafter sped away. I could hear all the people around me asking where had JC Chasez just gone. They were all looking at me, as though I must know something that they didn't. In truth I was as lost as they were. My first impulse was to feel sorry for JC. He obviously had issues that he just couldn't work out in time. But my second impulse was to feel anger. In these past couple of years, why hadn't he confided in me his fears? I was the big talker in our relationship. I felt now like I truly did not know him. Barbara Walters arrived and I had to explain to her that the interview was cancelled. I also took it upon myself to remind her of our confidentiality agreement, though I didn't think she would be the type of woman to discuss our lives on tomorrow's episode of 'The View.' "Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Murray?" a different production assistant asked me a bit later. "Actually," I began. "Do you think you could give me a ride home?" ---------- Late that night, I heard keys jiggling in the lock of my front door. I was sitting on a couch in the living room, my legs curled up underneath me. I hadn't called anyone since I got back the apartment. I hadn't told anyone anything. I didn't answer my phone. The door opened and JC slowly appeared. He closed the door behind him and slowly walked toward me. He stood there, staring at me, and I simply stared back. "I need to explain," he eventually said. "If you want to," I said. "Nate, it had nothing to do with you. Honest, it didn't. You know how much I love you." "Yeah," I said. "Josh, if you didn't want to 'come out,' why didn't you just tell me you had changed your mind. Why did you put us on this path in the first place?" "I don't know," he said, his voice suddenly full of emotion, tears starting to stream down his cheeks. "I guess it's because I'm totally fucked up." He wiped the tears from his cheeks but they kept coming. I wanted to comfort him, but I was no longer sure if I should. "I wasn't ready," he cried. "I guess I always knew I wouldn't be ready. It was just something I really wanted to do. I thought I could force myself to be the kind of man I want to be, but I think I was wrong." "And what about me?" I asked. "I was just around for the ride? You didn't think that these were the kind of thoughts you should be discussing with me?" "You're the last person I could talk to," he said, much to my surprise. "You're so strong, Nate. You're so much stronger than me." He let out a sob. "I hate being weak around you." "Josh, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not even sure why you are with me." "What do you mean?" he said, fishing some tissues out of his pockets. I guess this wasn't the first time he cried today. "You don't even love me," I said. What was the point of pretending anymore? If JC was going to show all of his cards, I might as well too. "Of course I love you," he said. "How could you think that?" "I saw the ring, Josh," I said. He almost took a step back. "Maggie and I found it by accident." "Oh God," he said, casting his eyes toward the floor. "So what was it?" I asked. "What made you change your mind about me? Was it because I supported you too much in every single thing you wanted to do?" I slowly stood up and slowly made my way toward him. "Was it because I was willing to give up everything I've worked for because I loved you so much?" I thought I sounded angry, but I could also hear that my voice was getting choked up. I stood directly in front of him. "Or was it simply because you didn't want the responsibility of being the person I loved more than anyone else on this fucking earth?" Now tears were rolling down my face, and I immediately wanted to kick myself. I wanted to stay angry. I didn't want to show that I was hurt. "Nate, please," he said reaching for me. I pulled away from him. He tried again and I found myself yelling 'no.' "Nate, I wanted to give you that ring," he sobbed. I almost stopped him. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know his reasons. "I wanted to pledge myself to you forever. I still do, but I...I just couldn't. Not then. Not now." "I think you've said enough," I said. "You can go anytime now." "When I bought that ring I was still lying to myself," he continued. "I still thought that I would be ok with all of this and that we would live happily ever after. But a few weeks ago I knew that I was having second thoughts. I knew that there was a chance that I wouldn't be able to go through this whole 'coming out' thing. My single started doing well, my album was coming together. I wasn't sure if I could risk all of that for something I wasn't really comfortable doing in the first place." "I understand," I said sarcastically. "What's true love compared to having a number one hit?" "You're not following me," he corrected. "Nate, I didn't give you the ring because I don't even no who I am. I'm not comfortable being me, but I'm too scared to be anyone else. How could I make a commitment to you when I that is how I feel?" "I guess you can't," I said. "You didn't." "Nate, I need some time. I need to figure out my own head." "So what are we supposed to do now?" I asked, tossing my hands up in the air. "Start couple's therapy?" JC pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Oh," I said, nodding my head. "I get it. You're breaking up with me." "I just need some time," he said. "You son of a bitch," I said. "We're not in junior high anymore, Josh. We're adults and this is real life." "I've never spent a day on my own," he said. "I've never been given the chance to go through life like other people." "Josh, spare me the lecture about the poor little kid who had to miss out on fraternity parties because he was making millions of dollars traveling all over the world in a pop group." "You can't just give me some time?" he asked. "Just until I can feel comfortable in my own skin?" "No," I said. "This isn't what I signed up for. I'm in love with you, Josh. I always have been. I want to have a relationship with you. I want to share things with you. But if you're not at the same stage of the game that I am, then I'm not interested." I was done crying at this point, but I still felt very sad. I never would have expected an outcome like this. After JC forgave me for my fling with Bobby, I honestly thought that we would never be apart again. "Nate, don't you see that it could be good for us? It could be a chance to do what we've always wanted. Nate, I want the success of being a solo artist. I want to see the screaming fans. I want to fill up stadiums. Maybe after I've done that I'll 'come out,' but not now." "Josh, this isn't about 'coming out.' I don't care if you ever do. I never did. I just wanted to make you happy, but obviously I failed." "You do make me happy," he said, starting to cry again. Again, he reached for me and this time I let him put his arms around me. I didn't know what else to do. I patted his back, suddenly overcome by the idea that I might never feel him against me again. I could tell that I was going to start crying again, so I pulled away, and turned my face toward the windows, watching the last apartment light across the way switch off for the night. It felt like minutes had passed without us saying anything. I could tell that JC was still behind me. He hadn't moved an inch. "I think this will be for the best," he finally said, and I closed my eyes. "You'll see. You're going to be a huge star, Nate. You're going to want the freedom to move independently." "Ok," I said. "Why don't we just see where we are in a few months?" he suggested, looking at me hopefully. "Let's be honest, Josh," I said. "Do you really think that's going to work out?" "I don't know," he said. "It could." "Josh," I said, turning back around to face him. "If you are ending this, just end it. I don't want to walk around anymore with hope as my only friend." He stood silently for a moment, looking at me as though he was trying to memorize the shape of my face. "I'm sorry, Nate," he said, sealing our fate. "Me too," I said. We both stood there. Strangers. We had once known each other better than we knew anyone else. We had shared a passion for each other that few people experienced. We had been two halves of a whole. But now we were strangers. JC made his way to the door, slowly opening it and slowly stepping behind it. He looked at me once again, his right side hidden behind the door, his mouth slightly ajar as though he was about to say something. Slowly his mouth closed, and his eyes shifted away from mine. He stepped out into the hall, and closed the door behind him. ---------- I flew back to London alone. I went back to the townhouse alone, and there I started to live, alone. There was really no reason for JC to be here anymore. Back in the U.S. he would begin to heavily promote his album. He would once again become a poster on teenage girls' walls. I refused to let myself start to wonder what I had been doing for the past two years. I told myself that all experiences were important, and that they all contribute to making you who you are. I wasn't going to spend one minute regretting the time I spent with JC, because for the most part, I loved those times, even if they had come to an end. JC did teach me a lot about myself, and I was pretty sure he would say the same about me. Now I was once again free to pursue my career in exactly the way I wanted to. I could keep my private life private, and possibly become the biggest movie star of the 21st century. I could also 'come out' and become an icon. The choices were mine and mine alone. A month passed, and then another. It was late July and my life had become simple. I was still doing the play and I had started working on my next film, "The Picture of Dorian Gray." I accepted my position as the spokesperson for Burberry and was enjoying the endless supply of free clothes that arrived at the townhouse almost daily. I didn't date. I didn't sleep with anyone. I didn't want to. JC's single reached number one on the charts shortly after we had broken up, and his album was really selling well. I heard through the grapevine that he was planning a big tour. We never spoke. It was the last day of July when I found myself sitting at a café. I was alone, though that wasn't typical. Despite being quite down about the breakup, I managed to keep my friends around me, and it helped to focus on them and hear about their own troubles. Without having a movie in theaters for quite some time, the pandemonium surrounding me had died down considerably, allowing me to occasionally venture outside alone. Having finished my newspaper and not feeling particularly anxious to leave, I sat there for a moment, thinking of ways to entertain myself. I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and decided to clean it out, as people had a tendency to give me business cards or tiny slips of paper wherever I went. It wasn't long before I found myself holding the card of one Colin Williams. In all of these months I had forgotten that he had given it to me. The sun was shining brightly and the heat was growing intense. I looked around, and suddenly it seemed as though everything was in full bloom. The garden across the street was a sea of reds, pinks, yellows and blues. It seemed as though everyone was walking hand in hand. It was summer. It was the season for long walks and moonlight kisses. I thumbed the card, wondering to myself what my next step would be. My phone appeared and I was dialing. It rang twice. "Hello," an all too familiar voice said. "Hi," I said. "You never thought I would call, did you?" "I've learned not to underestimate you," Colin said. "It's good to hear your voice, Nathaniel." "Yes," I said. "It's good to hear yours too." "Are you still in London?" he asked. "Yes," I said, taking a deep breath. "How about you?" "I always spend the summers in London," he said. I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling. To be concluded.