Date: Wed, 09 Jul 2003 15:52:48 -0500
From: Cameron Writer <cameronwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Light in the Tunnel  chapter 25

Hello everyone! For those of you in the U.S., I hope you had a wonderful 4th
of July. For everyone else...well, I hope you are doing wonderfully!

This chapter is a continuation of NSYNC's stay in New York. Many of you have
written about these chapters, and I appreciate it greatly. It sometimes
amazes me that I can capture a feeling or circumstance, and describe it in a
way that makes you all feel a part of the story. I am a romantic, but not
experiencing much of that in my life right now. Perhaps I am like the
musician that can play for the dancers, yet not dance, or a poet who details
battles yet does not fight. Any way you look at it, I'm flattered by your
support.

Disclaimer: I have no knowledge of NSYNC, anyone affiliated with them, or
any other celebrities that may appear here. This is a work of fiction, so
any mention of sexual orientations/habits or personalities are made up by
me! If you are offended by stories about relationships between men, or are
too young to legally read such things, please leave.


A Light in the Tunnel


Chapter 25



	"Joey, we've been so good while we've been here, but it's about to drive me
crazy! If I don't get to a club or something, I'm not going to be held
responsible for my actions!"
	Joe rolled his eyes, then swatted Justin with the morning's edition of the
NY Times. "Don't be so dramatic, Curly. We've done other things this time
around." He grimaced as he thought back to the night before. "Like the
ballet."
	"I know, but watching other people dance isn't the same! I just want to let
loose for one night. Is that so much to ask?"
	"I'll ask a couple of people, and find out where the hottest new nightspot
is. One that Burke can legally get into. Will that work?"
	Justin's face broke into a wide, beaming grin. "Definitely! And it'll be
the perfect opportunity for him to wear one of the outfits I picked out!"
	"And the perfect time for him and Josh to show off for each other!" Joey
winked.
	"Are we still on for getting some stuff together for them?"
	"Yeah. Lance messed with the schedule a little, so the two of us have some
free time to do the special shopping. I'm still not sure it's a good idea to
do this ourselves."
	"We have to! Anyone we could send don't know those guys as well and may
pick up the wrong things. Besides, I want to oversee this part of the plan
so no one but us is to blame if something goes wrong."
	"Good point. OK, I'll look into a place to go tonight, and tomorrow
afternoon we'll head to a classier porn shop."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	Burke was sitting at the desk in his room, trying to concentrate on the
paper his teacher had assigned him. Five pages describing the ethical
boundaries of journalism and how they related to people's fascination with
celebrity. At first the assignment seemed like a no brainer. He had five
celebrities at his disposal, all willing to lend their insights and
experiences. Then he had been told that his family was not to be consulted.
That made things more difficult. Burke could write about the things he had
gone through, but didn't want to relive the experiences which had brought
reporters and photographers into his life. He was too embarrassed to write
about the pictures taken when he had first moved to Florida, the ones of he
and the guys shopping and his reactions to them. And the stories stemming
from being taken by his mother brought the woman's face to his mind,
something that didn't happen very often anymore. His forehead wrinkled as he
thought about what he could do to come up with the best essay. Any idea
popped into his head, and he went in search of his tutor.
	"Amelia, you said I couldn't get help from the guys for my paper, right?"
	"Right. I want you to do this without relying on your family. I want you to
learn about ethics, but not fall back on what you already know. This paper
is meant to teach you something."
	"I got it. Thanks." Burke ran to the suite, hoping he could catch one of
the guys before they left for the day's events. Luck was with him, Lance
still working on a project for his company. "Lance, can I ask you for a big
favor?" Burke laid his head on the man's shoulder, trying to look pitiful.
	"Don't try to suck up to me, Burke. What can I do for you?"
	"I have to write this paper about reporters and celebrities, but Amelia
doesn't want me to talk to you guys."
	"That makes sense. We've pretty much told you a lot of our stories, so you
won't be learning anything."
	"Right. So I was wondering if maybe, if it wasn't too much trouble, you
could call over to MTV and see if there were a couple of people I could talk
to."
	"Burke-"
	"I just thought it would be cool. Not only could I talk to famous people,
but I could also talk to people whose job is to follow celebrities. I mean,
I understand if it's too much trouble, but it was just an idea I had. Don't
worry about it. I'll come up with something else."
	"I think it's a great idea! Are you sure it's alright with your teacher?"
	"She said I couldn't talk to you guys. She didn't say anything about
talking to anyone else!"
	Lance looked at his young friend skeptically. "You know, you sound like a
businessman. That's an end run if I ever heard one. Let me grab my phone
real quick and see what I can do." Burke nearly did a happy dance while
Lance dialed one of his contacts at the studios. "Hi, this is Lance Bass. I
was wondering if someone would be able to talk with Chris' son, Burke. He
has a school paper to write and wanted to talk to a couple of
journalists...Great! If it's possible, I'm sure he'd like to get the other
side of the story from a performer or two...Oh. Maybe we'll just play that
one by ear...Thanks a lot. I really appreciate this. When should I send him
over?...Alright. Thanks again. B-bye!"
Burke waited anxiously for his brother to fill him in. "My person is going
to arrange some time with a couple of the VJs. I don't know who, but it'll
give you a source to draw from."
	"What about a celebrity? You didn't sound too thrilled about that part."
	"I'm not sure he'll have the time today. You know how it is. In, do the
show, and back out. And he might not be interested after all the interviews
he'll have already done. Maybe you can call Brit or someone."
	Burke was positive there was something else going on to get such excuses.
Lance generally liked everyone, and the look on his face said that this was
one of the few he didn't. "Who is it, Lance?"
	"Eminem. Like I said, he may not be interested, or just too busy."
	"It never hurts to ask, right?" Burke tried to calm his excitement.
	"I suppose so. Are you sure you don't want me to find someone else for you?
One of the Backstreet guys, maybe?"
	"I'll try my luck with Eminem. If that doesn't work out, then I'll call
Britney and maybe someone else. When are they expecting me?"
	"In an hour. You should probably get cleaned up and stuff. Remember to
dress nice. These people don't want to waste their time on someone who looks
like they don't know what they're doing." Burke was out of the room and next
door before Lance could draw another breath.

	"Hey bro, why are you all dressed up?"
	Burke had on a pair of relatively new jeans, not completely sure if he
liked the artificially faded thighs, and a short-sleeved black silk shirt
over a black wifebeater. "Hey, Just. I've got to do some research for a
paper, so Lance set me up with some time to talk to a couple of people at
MTV."
	"Sweet. Who are you seeing?"
	"A couple of the VJs, I'm not sure who. And if he's got the time, I'm
hoping to get to talk to Eminem."
	"Just don't take any shit from him. Sometimes he likes to run his mouth. I
think he's pissed off just about everyone in the business at one time or
another."
	"Don't worry about me. I'm taking Warren along, and he can deal with
trouble."
	"Alright. Give me a call if you need anything, ok?"
	"Sure, Justin. I'll see ya later!"
	"Bye bro."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	Burke was really into his role as an interviewer. So that he didn't waste
anyone's time, he had thought of the questions he wanted to ask, and had a
small tape recorder, borrowed from Lance, to get their responses. He thought
it was funny, and a tiny bit frustrating, that the VJs he talked to all
tried to ask questions of him. He was getting a good amount of information
about how journalists balanced their curiosity with the need to respect the
privacy of celebrities. Many times, he was told, they asked off the record
questions just because they had to know the truth, even if they had to keep
that knowledge secret. Each had their favorite people to interview, and most
of the time those people were the ones comfortable with disclosing many
details. Burke thanked each person, grateful for the time, if only a few
minutes, they had spared to help him. Each, in turn, thanked him for the
opportunity, and managed to slide in a hint that they wanted to do the first
interview Burke was willing to give out.
	The assistant, a brunette named Jocelyn, who had been assigned to show
Burke from one play to another, shuffled him off to another room. "Eminem
has agreed to talk to you for a little bit before he has to leave." Burke
nodded. "Be careful," she whispered as she knocked on the dressing room
door, "he's in one of his moods today."
	Burke stepped through the doorway, not surprised to see that the room was
set up much like the one the guys had used earlier. Sprawled out on one of
the couches, the blond rapper glared at him. "So, you're the kid who wants
to talk to me?"
	"Yes, sir," Burke stuttered, feeling like he was facing his mother and her
hostility. "If you'd rather not, I understand. You are busy man."
	"Whatever. If you have some questions, ask them. I haven't got all day.
You're not posing just to get an autograph or something, are you?"
	"No sir. I just want to ask you a few questions about how you feel about
reporters and what they do to get a story."
	"Bitches, all of them. I just try to do my own fucking thing, but I can't
take a breath without one of them snapping my picture. All I want to do is
make great fucking music."
	"Could you share one of your experiences with me? Maybe one good, and one
bad?"
	"It's easier to come up with a bad one than good." As Burke listened
patiently to the man's ranting, he realized that he was quickly losing his
liking of him. Every other word out of his mouth was a cuss word, and he
really seemed to be on the verge of doing something violent all the time.
"Is this going to take much longer?" Eminem snarled.
	"No, sir, but don't let me keep you if you want to go. This isn't as
important as the things I'm sure you have to do."
	"Will you just ask your questions? And stop with the fucking 'sir' shit.
It's annoying."
	"Sorry." Burke wanted to end things right there, but knew he needed to get
the rest of his information.
	"Aren't you going to ask me something about my music. That's what I do
after all."
	"I know, and I'm a fan. But this is for a school paper about journalistic
ethics."
	"That's got to be the biggest bullshit assignment I've ever heard! The
problem with school is that they don't teach you anything useful. I learned
everything I know on the streets. You're a stupid kid for buying into all
that shit."
	"Maybe, maybe not. But that's what my assignment is. Besides, I like
school. I would think that you, as a role model for young people, would
encourage kids to get their education."
	"School never did much for me. And trust me, you're just a puppet for the
government. Stupid kid."
	"Maybe school never did anything for you because you were too stupid to get
it?" Burke was tired of getting the brunt of someone's anger without doing
anything to earn it. Justin had said not to take any of Eminem's crap, so he
wasn't.
	The rapper sat up, actually looking at Burke. "What did you say, you little
shit?" His face looked astonished, as if he couldn't believe a kid would
speak to a superstar like that.
	"I made a guess about why you didn't like school."
	"You don't know shit about me."
	"And I'm glad I don't. I used to think you were really cool and had just
gotten a bad reputation from the press, but now I know better. From the
minute I walked in here, you've treated me like I was something nasty stuck
to the bottom of your shoe. No one made you agree to talk to me, and I know
you aren't getting paid for this, but the least you could do is be
respectful! There are plenty of other people I can talk to, and I don't need
to put up with you." Burke grabbed his tape recorder, stood up, and started
towards the door. "If anything I've read about you is true, I figured we had
a couple of things in common. Now I know better."
	A hand shot out over his shoulder and kept the door closed. "How do you
figure you're important enough to talk to me like that?"
	"Because I asked for a favor and you agreed. Are you always a bastard to
people who interview you, or is this just my lucky day."
	"Get out of here you little fucker. I'm Eminem, and you're nobody."
	Instead of hurrying away, Burke spun, his eyes as furious as the rapper's
were. "I *am* somebody, and I don't have to hide behind an mask, unlike you.
You don't know anything about me, so you can take your poor, abused, angry
act somewhere else, because I ain't impressed. So you had it rough as a kid,
woohoo! Join the crowd."
	"Listen here, my mama-"
	"Yeah, mine too. Ooh," he said sarcastically, "you grew up in the projects
or wherever. Poor Marshall. I had it just as bad as you, and I'm not going
around making an ass of myself. Grow up!" With the last word, Burke went
stomping out of the room, not speaking to anyone as he left the building.
Warren was smart enough to stay out of his way, knowing he could take
whatever Burke threw his way, but not wanting to find out exactly how much
that might be. Burke glowered all the way back to the hotel, muttering under
his breath.
	"Get what you needed, Burke," Lance asked as his little brother came
storming down the hall. He didn't get an answer, Burke disappearing into his
room, letting the door slam behind him. "What did I do?" the bewildered
singer asked Warren.
	"Nothing. He's been like this since we left MTV. I'm thinking his interview
with Eminem didn't go so well." Lance nodded, and went into the suite,
figuring he'd let Burke cool down before talking to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	In half yelled statements, the guys learned what had happened that morning.
Justin cheered Burke for standing up to Eminem and giving him a dose of his
own medicine. They decided to give him space that afternoon, wondering how
long this angry spell would last. The telephone in the suite rang and Chris
answered it. "Hello?"
	"This is the front desk. We have a visitor wanting to see Mr. Burke
Kirkpatrick."
	"Did they give you a name?"
	"Yes, sir. A Mr. M. Mathers."
	Chris gasped, covered the phone, and turned to his friends. "Slim Shady is
downstairs. He wants to see Burke. What should I do?"
	"Tell them to have security throw him out!" Justin laughed.
	"You'd better ask Burke. He's already upset, and you don't want him to be
pissed off even more." Lance, they agreed, had a point. Josh fetched his
boyfriend, and brought him into the room.
	"Son, Eminem is down in the lobby and is asking to see you. What should I
tell the front desk?"
	"Have someone escort him up. Surely he isn't stupid enough to try for round
two on my turf." Chris quickly relayed the instructions, saying one of their
guards would be down to get the man.

	"Shady," Joey greeted coldly when the rapper knocked on the suite's front
door.
	"Fatone," he replied, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
	"This is my room. Well, the group's suite. You're here to see Burke?"
	"Uh, yeah. Is he here?" Joey let the door swing open, and stepped out of
the way just enough for the smaller man to squeeze through. The rest of
NSYNC and Burke sat in the common room, emotionless faces staring at the new
arrival. "Kirkpatrick. I get it now," he muttered.
	"Do you know everyone?" Burke asked. Eminem nodded, murmuring a hello to
the others. "Good. What can I do for you?"
	"Uh, it's sort of private. Can we go somewhere to talk?"
	"You can tell me what you want to talk about, then I'll decide if we need
to go somewhere." Chris gawked at his son, surprised by the hard,
indifferent, slightly cruel tone of his voice. The young man who was now
speaking was totally different from the teen he loved and called his son.
	Eminem rocked back and forth, obviously nervous. "It's just that I wanted
to--to apologize for how I acted earlier. I asked a couple of people and
they gave me a little of your story. I had no right to treat you the way I
did."
	"Apology accepted. Now, what do you want to talk about?"
	"You said that you thought we had some things in common, and now that I
know better, I agree. I was hoping we could give your interview another
chance."
	The timidity and hopefulness in the man's voice broke the steely façade
Burke wore. "Sure. Dad, do you mind if I have supper with Marshall tonight?"
	"Go right ahead. I think we're going out tonight, so don't stay out long."
	"Alright. See you guys later!" As if night had suddenly become day, Burke
was cheerfully leading the stunned celeb from the room.
	"That was crazy," Justin laughed cautiously after the door had clicked
shut.
	"That's our Burke," Josh laughed. "I'm surprised he was willing to give him
a second chance! But I'm proud that he did."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	"So," Josh ventured as he stood in the bathroom fixing his hair, "how was
supper?" Burke came in, and laid a CD on the counter. He looked down, and
laughed, seeing the dedication written on the cover. He picked it up and
read aloud, "To my best little homie, Here's to making lemonade! Peace, Slim
Shady." Josh covered his mouth, but that couldn't stop his laughter. "His
best little homie? You charmed the pants off him, didn't you?"
	"Well," Burke blushed, "we do have some things in common. He's cool once he
stops being so mean. Want to know a secret?"
	"If you tell me, then it won't be a secret, will it?"
	"Maybe, but I want to tell you anyway. Promise not to tell?" Josh giggled
and crossed his heart. "Well, you know that Marshall is famous for bashing
just about everyone, right?" The man nodded. "Would you believe that he has
your CD in his car?"
	"No way! I thought he hated the whole boy band thing!"
	"Yes way. Well, he might happen to hate boy bands, but it's hard to do that
when he has a certain *interest* in a member of one!"
	Josh's hair gel bottle dropped from his hand, goo shooting over the sink.
"Oh my god! He likes one of the guys?"
	Burke grinned smugly. "Yup."
	"Who?"
	"Well, it is a secret after all. Maybe I shouldn't say anything."
	Josh tackled the young man to the floor, pinning him to the carpet. "Oh no,
little boy! You're going to tell me!"
	"What are you gonna give me?" Josh leaned down and kissed Burke, wasting no
time in sliding his tongue against his boyfriend's. "Mmm," the boy panted as
JC pulled him up, "that will work."
	"Thanks. Now talk!"
	"Let me see. I think his exact words were, 'I'd love to make it with that
gorgeous blond, the one with spiky hair.'"
	"Lance!" Josh laughed, gripping his stomach. "That's so funny! Oh my god!
You have to tell him that!"
	"No way! I only told you because I don't want to know things you don't. Are
we about ready to go?"
	"Just let me finish my hair. You look great, by the way."
	Burke looked down at his outfit. Though he had argued with Justin about the
leather pants and nearly sheer shirt, he had to admit that they looked good
on him. "Thanks. You good fantastic too." That wasn't a shallow compliment.
Josh did look good, his slender but muscled body outlined by a skin-tight
shirt of shiny black material and blue leather pants.

	"Are you sure about this place?" Lance questioned as their limo pulled up
in front of the building.
	"Everyone I talked to said this was the hottest club going right now, and
Burke can get in without us using our influence. And there is a mixture of
gay and straight people here, so Josh and Burke can dance together without
anyone saying something."
	"Joe, we're NSYNC. Someone will say something."
	"Not if we all take a turn. If something comes out in the paper, we can
just say that we were enjoying New York's jumping nightlife with Chris' son.
That's the truth, isn't it?"
	"I like the way Joe thinks," Josh smiled. "You *are* going to dance with me
tonight, aren't you?"
	Burke blushed and buried his face in the man's shoulder. "Well duh! Are you
all sure it'll be ok?"
	"Yeah. Jayce might have to dance with a couple of girls, though. Is that
alright?"
	"Of course. I'm not the jealous type. Besides, if things get out of hand,
he knows he'll be sleeping on the couch in your suite!"

	Though he wasn't much of a partier, Burke was having a wonderful time at
the club. He had been a little nervous at first, but had calmed after the
initial rush of hysteria at the guys' arrival had passed. True to Joey's
words, he had danced with all of his family. At one point during a song with
a Latin beat, Justin had started a conga line then shimmied and shuffled
along with Burke, moving the boy's hips comically.
	A little tired, Burke withdrew to the segregated tables that had been set
aside for the group. "Need something else to drink?" Lance shouted over the
music. Burke nodded, and watched his older brother poor him a glass of
water.
	"Have you seen Josh?" he asked after wetting his throat.
	"The last time I saw him, he was over by the bar talking to someone." Burke
stood up and scanned the dance floor. Despite all the people moving around,
he found it relatively easy to find his friends. Justin was in the middle of
a small circle of people, showing off for them. Joey and some random girl
were grinding against each other, and Chris was sitting at a table across
the room, talking with a couple of guys. Josh, he discovered, was standing
in a short line in front of a clipboard on the wall.
	"What is he doing?" Burke yelled, pointing out his boyfriend.
	"I don't know. Looks like he's signing up for something."
	They weren't clueless for long. After the current song ended, the DJ's
voice came over the speakers. "You know what time it is! Would the
contestants for Spectrum's Weekly Hot Body Contest please make their way to
the stage?" The crowd erupted as a group of men and women climbed the set of
stairs.
	"How much has he had to drink tonight?" Justin asked as he, Chris, and Joey
rejoined their friends.
	"A couple of beers, I think. Oh, and I saw him do a couple of shots of
something. I didn't ask him what it was." Burke became nervous as his family
shared a tense look among them. "Why? What's going on?"
	"The Josh we all know and love is a bit on the tense side, right? Well,
when he drinks, he gets a bit--freer."
	People started cheering as sultry music came on. The group looked to the
stage to see one of the male contestants, a hugely muscled red head, strip
off his shirt, then just as quickly lose his pants. Without saying a word,
they all rushed onto the dance floor, trying to reach their band mate before
his turn to be in the spotlight. No one knew whether to be insulted or
pleased that members of NSYNC had shoved them, making their way through the
crowd.
	His hips swaying seductively, JC slowly raised his shirt up, baring the
rippled muscles of his stomach. The throng went wild as he continued, the
smooth skin of his chest, tinted blue by the lights, shimmering with tiny
beads of sweat. Just as he was popping the first snap on his pants, Joey
dashed up on stage and pulled him away, much to the disdain of the cheering
mob.
	A goofy grin on his face, Josh looked around, then leaned close to Burke.
"I was going to show them what belongs to you!" he hiccupped.
	Burke, his nerves settling, patted his boyfriend's cheek. "I want to keep
that all to myself. I'm a lucky guy."
	"Nuh uh. I'm lucky. Them people," he stammered, gesturing wildly, "as just
people. But you're an angel."
	"Thanks Josh. And, just for the record, no one up there has a hotter body
than you."
	"What do you say we get out of here, guys?"
	"Lansten! Hi! We don't have to go yet, do we?"
	"I'm afraid so, buddy. Burke has school in the morning."
	Josh looked the watch on Lance's wrist, his face becoming somber. "He's
right. You have to get up in the morning. Come on, Burke, let's get out of
here." Josh leaned heavily on Burke and Joey, the men looking like they were
just giving him a chummy half hug when they were actually guiding his woozy
steps.

	"Josh, are you okay?" Burke whispered as they crept into bed.
	"Just fine." They had poured a pot of coffee into him, hoping to counteract
the alcohol. "Sorry about tonight. I know better."
	"I thought it was sweet. You said you were going to show them what belonged
to me."
	"I was. But you know what I really wanted to do?" Josh got out of bed and
turned on the radio, and slid a CD in, a ballad coming forth. He opened the
curtains a fraction, letting the moon light filter into the dark room.
Standing there, bathed in silver rays, he held his hand out to Burke. The
boy walked over, his eyes shyly downcast. Josh raised his head tenderly so
that they were looking at each other. "Dance with me?"
	Burke moved closer, resting his head next to Josh's and wrapping his arms
around his shoulders. Josh's arm encircled his waist, and they started to
rock back and forth, twirling in a slow, tight circle. "I love you, Josh."
	"I love you too, Burke. I love you too." The CD played quietly, repeating
that song over and over. Together, bodies pressed against one another, they
danced, no sound but silky notes in the night. A light kiss was exchanged
now and again, but both were content in the smooth rocking, the quiet
closeness. Without missing a step, they danced for hours, the light
streaming through the window brightening from cool to fiery orange.
	They separated with a kiss as a knock came at the door. "Time to wake up
guys!" Lance called through the wood. A moment later he came inside, staring
at the men. "You're both up and out of bed already."
	Josh glanced at the clock then blushed. "We sorta never made it to bed last
night."
	Burke giggled at Lance's confused mien. "Why didn't you make it to bed?"
	"We kind of stayed up all night--dancing."
	"You danced all night?"
	"I guess so. I don't think we realized it."
	"But it was for six hours! How can you not notice dancing for six hours?"
	"Because all I cared about was Burke," Josh answered, pulling his smaller
boyfriend back against him. "We're up. Go away now, Lance."
	The responsible singer huffed and walked out. Once in the hall and away
from everyone else, he leaned against the wall and sighed, a dreamy smile on
his lips. "That's so beautiful."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's it for now! I hope you all liked!

I know I had hinted at things that were to happen in this chapter, but one
of them I didn't get around to. Sorry about that, but I guarantee it will
happen in the next chapter. Heck, I've already told you, through Joey and
Justin plotting, what part of chapter 26 will involve! And no
cliffhanger!!!!

I'd love to here your thoughts and comments. You can reach me at
cameronwriter@hotmail.com

Until next time,

Always,

Cameron