Date: Sun, 23 Jul 2000 18:50:03 EDT
From: Gabriella Morrison <sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Surprise Romance 35

Hi everyone!

This is the next installment in my story and to make it brief and short,
you might not like me much after this chapter, but I don't care because
it's only fiction :) If you haven't read between the lines, everything in
the previous chapters has been leading up to this chapter.

Okay, I just want to send a short thank you to everyone who's written me in
the last few days....you all are incredible, wonderful people who I love
and adore. My fingers are cramping from all the typing I have done, so I'm
not putting in my usual separate thanks. Basically, I think those of you
know whom I'm talking about...you're all special and I love each and
everyone of you :) You've listened to me rant, scream and bitch over
nothing and everything. I love you all--big kiss here *muah!*

Also, more shameless self-promoting hussiness here: please visit my
website. Those of you who have been charmed and/or entertained by it know
that I update my "rantings" often, so *please* (pretty please???) go check
it out....you'll be amused, I promise!

http://sweetheart.homepage.com

DISCLAIMER: Do you honestly think that If I knew `N Sync, I'd be writing
about them? Get a clue--not 18 or 21, bye...don't like m/m relationships,
then go...get lost! And I don't know anything about Lance Bass's
sexuality..I wish I did though :)

*Author's note*: This chapter is different that the others I've written,
mainly because it all leads up to a major point in the story. This chapter
is broken down into small scenes and I can only describe the one sentence
breaks this way: If you watch Frasier, then you know what I'm talking
about--the things in "...//..." mean that those are to be read like title
cards into the next scene...


My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 35--"To Say Goodbye is to Die a Little"


...I had too much to drink...*

There was a good reason I didn't drink a lot. And certainly not in
excess. And as I woke up, I knew exactly why I hadn't indulged in binge
drinking since my high school days: the hangover. I felt like shit. In
fact, as I lay in bed that morning, I could have bet that shit felt better
than I did at that moment. My mouth felt like it was coated with some dry
powder and my head...there had to be little men in there, jackhammering
parts of my brain away. I could barely move my limbs...

As I rolled myself over in order for my body to feel a different part of
the bed, I accidentally rolled right on top of Lance. Now on other, more
sober mornings, this might have been a nice wake up call for both of
us. But this morning?

"Stephen...oh God, please get off of me before I puke all over the place,"
Lance groaned once he felt my body pressed against his. This, I thought,
with a nary smile, was a first. I looked at Lance right before I rolled off
of him. He was the exact color of that school paste that kindergarten
children snack on between alphabet and number lessons. And his beautiful
green eyes were bloodshot and bleary. My smile quickly changed to one of
nausea as I rolled myself right off the bed and landed on the thick carpet
with a `thud'.

"Are you okay?" I heard Lance call from his place on the bed, not bothering
to look at me.

"I'm fine," I said as I flipped myself over onto my stomach, somehow
skittered myself 360 degrees, crawled to the toilet, and promptly threw
up. I know, I know..it's not a pretty picture to imagine but it
happened. And I didn't enjoy it one bit.

As I held on to the toilet for dear life, I heard the sound of Lance
getting off the bed, and his footsteps pad across the carpet and into the
bathroom. I looked up at him, as he managed to steady himself against the
doorframe. He gave me a shaky smile as he leaned down next to me.

"You okay?" he asked softly, brushing the damp hair away from my
forehead. He stared into my eyes tenderly, despite the fact that he looked
like he was going to kneel over and die any second himself.

"Fine," I managed to answer, before another wave of nausea overcame me and
I turned back to the toilet for the second time that morning. And then
after that round was over, I felt a hundred percent better. Well, not a
hundred, but at least sixty to seventy percent better....

I managed to stand myself up and flush the toilet as I turned back to
Lance.

"Morning," I said weakly. I walked over to the sink and turned on the cold
water, first splashing my face to cool myself off and then began to brush
my teeth so I could get rid of that horrible taste in my mouth. When I
finished that up, I turned myself back around and saw that Lance was still
watching me.

"What?" I asked him as my eyes fell to the bracelet that was still
encircled around his wrist. "You know, you can take that off," I said,
making my voice sound light, despite the fact that my head felt like a lead
weight.

"Maybe I don't wanna," he said with a smile on his face, even though he
felt as terrible as I did that morning. "Maybe I wanna keep it on forever."
He leaned over to me and gave me a brief kiss on the lips. I closed my eyes
once his lips touched mine and instantly I thought of the song that he had
sang to me last night.

"Hey, Lance...do you remember singing that song to me last night?" I asked
him suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at him. Maybe he was too drunk to have
known what was going on, I thought as we walked back to the bed. I fell
back on it, needing to feel some support underneath me.

"Yes," he said a bit sharply and I was a bit taken aback by his tone of
voice. "I certainly do remember singing it to you Stephen. Just because I
had a few beers in me, doesn't mean that I lose my memory, you know." He
fell on the bed next to me, and we lay there, side by side like two
sardines in a can. I wasn't sure what to say to him. After we had gotten
back from the bar last night, we had just fallen into bed...nothing sexual
had happened because we were just too drunk to do anything.

"It was beautiful," I said. I was sure I had said those words to him last
night, but then maybe I hadn't. All I remembered was that kiss in the
rain...

And as though Lance knew what I was feeling, he shifted over to me and lay
his head on top of my chest. I wrapped an arm around him, and we just lay
there for God only knows how long. Silence descended upon us and well...I
liked it. Even after all the good times we had shared together, for some
reason, that single moment in time was my favorite memory of Lance and I
together...




...you have to say goodbye sometime...


Well this was it...Goodbye to Los Angeles...I had never even thought I was
going to go anywhere during my summer vacation and here I was ready to
leave L.A., ready to head off to another city. I smiled sadly as we all
gathered in the hallway to say goodbye to Britney. Surprisingly enough, I
would really miss her...

"I'm going to miss y'all so much!" she exclaimed sentimentally as she
wrapped her arms around each of us. She stopped and gave me a pretty smile
before she hugged me.

"And you..." Britney shook her head at me. "Lordy, I'm so glad I met you
Stephen...you're one of the nicest people I've met," she said before
tightly wrapping her arms around my waist. "Good luck in everything...your
art...you know, *everything*," she added mischievously as she eyed Lance,
who was across the room, counting his suitcases. I rolled my eyes good
naturedly at the teen pop star.

"Thanks..I think I'll need it," I laughed as I adjusted the strap of my
shoulder bag. "It was good to meet you Britney..good luck with your tour
and the album and all that stuff." She gave me a smile and then handed me a
small scrap of paper.

"Look, this is my cell phone number," she said, running a perfectly
manicured fingernail over the numbers that she had scribbled on the
paper. "Please don't give it out or anything...but I would like to keep in
touch with you. After all, we both seem to take things a little bit too
seriously," she said and we both laughed, thinking of the Justin/Harris
fiasco that had seemed so tragic at the time, but now, seemed *so* trivial.

"Thanks," I said, folding the paper up and sticking it in my wallet. Would
I ever call her? I don't know. Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't. I've never
been good with girls...for obvious reasons, I thought as I hugged Britney
once more. When we parted, she gave me one last grin and then moved on to
bid her adieu to Cynthia.

As I stood there, making sure that I had everything, my mind suddenly
flashed to something else.

"Lance!" I called out to my boyfriend who was checking the zippers on his
luggage. He looked up at me.

"What?"

"Do you have your neck--" Before the word was out of my mouth, he turned to
me and tugged on the silver cross that hung around his neck and
grinned. And then he lifted up his arm and shook his wrist at me, showing
me the ID bracelet. I laughed at his actions and then felt a tap on my
shoulder. I turned around to see Harris standing there.

"Well, I thought I should say goodbye..after all, we did have a pretty
impersonal hello, if you remember," he recalled. I groaned at the thought,
but still couldn't help smiling at how good everything had worked out.

"True," I agreed. "Well, good luck to you, Harris..in your singing and
stuff," I told him, as I reached out and shook his hand. He gave me a grin.

"Good luck to you Stephen. I hope everything goes well in your
painting..and hey, maybe when I'm *really* famous, I'll have my people
contact you to do some artwork for one of my albums," he said, sounding a
bit cocky. Yet, he grinned to take the edge off his voice and I couldn't
help but hoping that he would become famous. Not because I wanted to do any
artwork for him, but because Harris was truly a good person.

"Sounds good," I said with a laugh, as we gave each other a parting
wave. He walked over to Cynthia, who to my surprise, was still talking
rather enthustically with Britney. And to think my cousin hated her too. I
turned around, only to see Lance standing directly behind me. Nearly scared
the crap out of me, I thought as I nearly let out a yelp.

"Jesus! Just climb on my shoulders, why don't you?" I joked as Lance and I
began to head towards the elevators together.

"Ooh, you wanna give me a piggyback ride?" Lance asked zealously, looking
as though he was about to drop the bags in his hands at the thought. I just
shook my head in mock frustration at him.

"Silly boy," I sighed, as I pushed the down button for the service
elevator. Then I looked at him with a devious smile on my face. "Not in
front of everyone." He was about to come back with a retort, when suddenly
Lance and I heard a shrill, ear piercing shriek coming from behind us
causing us to turn around to see what all the commotion was.

Britney was standing there in the middle of the hallway, water dripping
from her hair, onto and onto her shoulders, her painted mouth agape with
shock. Judging from the bucket that dangled from his hand, Chris had dumped
water over the pop diva's head. A look of astonishment appeared on
Britney's face as Chris and Joey high fived each other and whooped.

"That's revenge for taking those pictures of us!" Chris shouted as the ding
of the elevator sounded, signaling that it had arrived on out floor. The
doors opened and he jumped into it, while Britney ran after him at full
speed. He pressed the `close doors' button rapidly and just as the doors
were about to close, Chris lifted up a camera that he had been hiding in
his pocket and snapped it at her.

"Now I got a picture of you!" he screamed as the doors closed. "Bye-bye
Britney! You know I love ya like a sister!" We heard him yell as the
elevator began its decent down to the ground floor. Britney stood there for
a second, her fists clenched at her sides. Yet, I saw a trace of a smile
begin to appear on her lips. She spun around realizing that the other
person responsible for this prank was still on the floor. Joey.

"Oh shit," Joey said, his face draining of color as Britney ran towards him
at full speed. He began to back up slowly, but he was no match for her, as
she jumped on his back and began to pound on him with her fists.

"You asshole jerk! Idiot!" Britney screamed, trying not to laugh, despite
being soaking wet while the remaining people left on the floor laughed at
the scene in front of him.  Just then another elevator came up, and since
we were the only ones paying attention to it, Lance and I slipped onto that
one, leaving the ruckus behind us. I looked at Lance, whose lips had
twisted into a devilish grin once he realized that we were on an
elevator. Alone. Dropping his suitcases, Lance leaned over and cupped my
face in his hands.

"I don't know what it is about these things," he murmured against my lips
before kissing me passionately. When we parted, Lance just grinned shyly at
me and picked up his suitcases. I stood there, breathless by his actions as
the elevator let out a `ding' and we reached the ground floor, ready to
head off to our next destination....




...Did you never call? I waited for your call...**

Natalie. I never stopped thinking about my little sister. So once we
reached the next city, and checked into a new hotel, I picked up the phone
and dialed the number of my Aunt and Uncle's house that would let me reach
her. A few rings passed through the telephone lines and then I heard
someone pick up.

"Hello?" My heart leapt into my stomach as I heard my sister's thin, sweet
voice float through the telephone receiver.

"Natalie? Is that you?" I asked, even though I knew it was her. A big smile
appeared on my face as I heard her excited shriek.

"Stephen! I miss you so much!" she exclaimed happily. "Is the tour almost
over? Are you coming to Wisconsin to take me back home? How is it hanging
around `N Sync all the time? And did you ask Joey if he would go out with
me?" Natalie's rapid fire questions brought a smile to my face as I picked
up the telephone and began to walk around the room with it in my hand.

"Yes, honey, the tour is almost over...but I'm not sure about going home,
Natalie," I told her, trying to keep my voice light. Home. God, that was
one thing I had convientley forgotten about. Who wanted to think about the
drudgery of home when I was having the time of my life on tour with the
guys? "Well, have to see what your mom says, okay?"

"Okay...you know Stephen," Natalie's voice dropped to a whisper, as though
someone was around her and she didn't want them to hear. "Mom's been acting
strange lately...before she shipped me off to Aunt Florence and Uncle
George's house."

"Really?" I asked, my concern growing in considerable numbers. "How so,
Nat?" She paused before answering me and I could see her face scrunched up
in thought, the tip of her tongue pressed between her teeth.

"She's taking a lot of medication." Those words cut through me like a
knife. *Medication?* I thought in disbelief. What was my mother doing to
herself?

"What kinds of medication, Natalie?" I asked her, trying not to sound too
panicky. "For headaches, like aspirin or Tylenols?"

"No, not those...the pills she was taking were from the doctor...something
with a P...and another one that started with an X...but I can't remember
them. Sorry, Stephen," Natalie said apologetically, like she felt she had
failed me or something.

"Don't worry, Natalie. As long as you're okay, I don't care. How are Aunt
Florence and Uncle George treating you?" I asked, as Lance entered the room
with a plate of food. He looked curiously at the phone in my hand, but
smiled when I mouthed the word, "Natalie" at him. I sat back on the bed,
and Lance followed suit.

"Um, they're okay...they make me go to bed early, but otherwise, they're
much better than mom's been lately." I could hear Natalie smile. "They took
me to the movies and to the amusement park..I'm having a blast, Stephen. I
just wish you were here..and Angela and Beth too. Then I'd be really
happy." I closed my eyes at her words, feeling incredibly guilty. Here we
were thousands upon thousand of miles apart and leave it to my baby sister
to give me a guilt trip like she right next to me. Suddenly, one of my
brilliant ideas popped into my mind.

"Hey, Nat..you know if I could be there, I would...but can I make it up to
you?" I asked, looking at Lance, who was stuffing his face with the food
from the platter. He looked at me questioningly in mid-chew as I held the
receiver out to him, a grin on my face. Lance swallowed his food in one
gulp and pointed at his chest.

"You want me to talk to her?" he whispered in surprise. I nodded at him,
pleading at him with my eyes. A grin appeared on his face as he took the
phone from me and held it up to his ear.

"Is this Miss Natalie Peterson?" Lance asked politely, suddenly pulling it
away from his ear as the resounding shriek that came from the earpiece
could probably be heard five miles away. He looked back at me, a grin on
his face at my sister's reaction.

"I think she knows who I am," he whispered to me as he placed his hand over
the mouthpiece. He placed the phone back to his ear and continued to talk
to my sister for a couple of minutes, grinning like a goofy kid throughout
the entire conversation. Finally, there was a lull and Lance gently closed
it up as he saw an expectant look on my face. I really wanted to hear my
sister's voice again.

"Okay, Natalie...I think your brother wants to talk to you again, okay?
Okay? Yes...I love you too Natalie," Lance said with a gentle laugh as he
gave me an amused look. "Okay, honey...here's your brother." He handed the
phone back to me, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Hey Natalie..." I said, as she continued to shriek at me.

"I cannot believe that I just talked to Lance Bass! Like a normal person!"
she squealed in delight. "You're so lucky Stephen! I just wish I was old
enough to date him..the girl he's dating has to be the luckiest girl in the
world," Natalie sighed. I felt my face turn red at her remark, and cleared
my throat.

"Yeah, I guess..." I said lamely. "Well, sweetie...I have to get going,
okay?"

"Oh, okay," she said with another sigh. I shook my head at my sisters
ability to go from ecstatic to depressed in a matter of seconds. "You'll
call me again, right Stephen? Because it seems like you never call me. I
wait for you to call me." My heart broke at my sister's simple, yet sad
words. Poor kid, I thought, tossed around from home to home..it wasn't
right at all.

"I promise you I'll call you again, Natalie," I said, feeling my heart
heavy with emotion. "I promise you, honey. Okay?"

"Okay, Stephen. I love you."

"I love you too, Natalie. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, Stephen." Click. I looked over at Lance, who had noticed the change
in my demeanor right away. He gave me a soft smile as I hung the phone up
and placed it back on the nightstand.

"You okay?" Lance asked as I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. I
was okay, but was my sister? God, the shit she was going to have to deal
with when she grew older, I thought sadly. I looked up at Lance, who was
sitting there, staring at me with those green eyes that I had grown to love
and place full trust in.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I'm okay, but I hope Natalie will be," I worried out
loud as I looked at my lap. When I looked back up at Lance, he was staring
at me with full attention. "By the way, thank you for talking to her."

"No problem," Lance smiled. "I like your sister. She's a sweetheart...she
told me that she loves me by the way. Hope you're not the jealous type." We
laughed.

"And she said that, `the girl you're dating, has to be the luckiest girl in
the world.'" We laughed at the remark, and then grew silent, lost in our
thoughts. There seemed to be so much that we couldn't control, but yet in a
sick way, we had caused all these problems and worries ourselves...did
Lance and I have to be attracted to each other? Did we have to fall in
love? And did my mom have to be such a ignorant bitch? All of these
questions...they were driving me insane. And until I would find an answer,
I wouldn't be happy.




...All that matters is what makes you happy...***


As morning dawned upon us and as I lay in Lance's arms, there was a fierce
pounding on our suite door. My eyes flew open as the pounding grew more
frequent and rapid, until it sounded like the U.S. Army was ready to
infiltrate the room. The pictures on the wall began to rattle as the person
continued to pound away...

"What the fuck?" Lance sleepily whispered in my ear, as he began to wake
up. "I'll bet you ten bucks that it's Cynthia." I let out a groan at the
thought, as Lance reluctantly let go of me. Cold air hit my warm skin and I
shivered in the night air as I pulled my boxer shorts off the floor and
slipped them on. I turned back around to see Lance grinning at me. I just
shook my head as I walked over to the door. I hesitated before opening it
up to whatever new problems lurked behind it.

As Lance had predicted, Cynthia was standing there, tears streaming down
her face. I noticed that my cousin was wearing one of Josh's t-shirts as
she fell into my arms. Thankfully, I caught her just in time, right before
she hit the ground. I looked over at Lance, whose face had taken on a look
of panicky concern at Cynthia's limp frame in my arms.

"What's wrong?" he asked, jumping out of the bed and rushing over to us. I
looked at him critically.

"Lance. Shorts," I reminded him as he gave me a sheepish grin and turned
around to find them. I looked down at Cynthia who was crying
hysterically. She looked up at me with those big violet eyes of hers as
tears continued to stream down her pale cheeks, onto the gray fabric of the
t-shirt, darkening the material.

"Stevie...I want to go home," she wailed as she wrapped her arms around my
neck.  "I want to go home so much." I looked at my cousin carefully. She
wasn't drunk. She didn't look upset. And I don't think she was high (I know
that unlike most people, Cynthia cries like a manic when ever she smokes
pot. That's why she avoids it at all costs).

"Cynthia, what's wrong?" I asked her quietly as I gently cradled her in my
arms, just like she had done for me so many times before. She buried her
face in my bare chest and continued to just wail. I looked up at Lance who
had reappeared next to me, boxers in place.

"Is she okay?" he whispered, running his fingertips down her forearm. "I've
never seen her cry so hard before."

"I have," I said, as I softly stroked her blonde hair. "When she was
thirteen...and I visited her at summer camp. She's homesick," I told Lance
simply. His green eyes widened in surprise at my words.

"Cynthia..gets homesick?" Lance asked in amazement. "She doesn't seem the
type to get homesick." I nodded as my cousin's tears began to subside, and
she looked up at Lance and I.

"What? Lancey-poo here doesn't think I have emotions?" Cynthia asked
harshly, as she wiped the tears away from her face and jabbed Lance in the
chest. He winced at the force she had used as Cynthia continued
ranting. "Well , I do..and believe me, it's not something that I'm very
proud of. Twenty years old and I still get homesick! Only Stevie knows
that..." Just then a door down the hallway opened up and Josh poked his
head out the door. When he saw his girlfriend, crying in my arms, he rushed
over.

"What happened to her?" he asked, as he came to my cousin's side. "Cynthia,
what's wrong. I woke up and you were gone..." Josh took her from my arms
and held her tightly, looking at Lance and I in concern. We looked at each
other. If Cynthia wanted to tell Josh what her problem was, that was
entirely up to her.

"Josh, I want to go home," Cynthia said weakly, as though she really didn't
want to say the words. I knew she didn't want to leave the tour, especially
after hearing about the huge blowout that was planned on the night of the
last concert. But I also knew that my cousin was miserable--it was evident
on her face.

"Josh, I want to go home," Cynthia repeated. "I'm homesick." Josh's eyes
widened at her remark.

"You're homesick?" he asked her in surprise. "Is that why you've been quiet
all night?" Cynthia nodded and as she did this, something about her
demeanor reminded that of a child's. Bitten lower lip, downcast eyes, sad
expression. I felt terrible for her, as she wrapped her arms around Josh's
neck and began to cry once more. Josh looked at us helplessly.

"I'll get her a flight back home as soon as possible," he whispered quietly
as he nudged Cynthia gently. "Come on sweetie, let's go back to the room
and I'll book you a flight home ASAP, okay?" I saw my cousin nod as Josh
led her back to his room, giving Lance and I a worried look. We stood there
until we heard the soft `click' of their door.

"Weird," Lance breathed as we walked back into our room. "That cousin of
yours is really unpredictable." That wouldn't be the last thing that would
be unpredictable either...



"We are all doomed, but some of us are more doomed than others"
		--Robyn Hitchcock


When I woke up that morning, I automatically felt something different, and
then it hit me: today was the last day of the tour. The last day, I thought
as my eyelids opened up and allowed my eyes to see the man lying next to
me. Lance. The entire reason why my life now consisted of city-to-city
travel, late nights hanging out at clubs, followed by bleary eyed
breakfasts and even more hectic traveling. But it was Lance who didn't let
me lose my mind...he had become the rock that weighted me down, let me
smile and let me let my hair down :) I loved him and I never wanted him to
get hurt. Never.

Maybe that's why I did what I did.

Oh, I'm ahead of myself. Maybe I should start at the beginning...

We had waken up, and like every morning that we woke up to, we kissed each
other, goofed around in bed and then eventually, got our lazy butts up, and
into the shower, dressed, blah, blah, blah. That's not interesting. We've
done it all the time, everyday and there was nothing different about
it. The only difference was that everyone was talking about the huge after
concert party that was planned for that night. Even I was excited about it.
It just seemed the perfect way to end these crazy few weeks that we had all
spent together.

Once Lance and I retreated back to our room, he couldn't sit still. He
reminded me of a little puppy dog that had to go outside, as he bounced
around on the bed and generally wouldn't shut up.

"Stephen, can you imagine what the rest of the summer is going to be like?
You're gonna come down to my new house in Florida and you're going to stay
there with me for the rest of the summer," Lance said excitedly, falling on
the bed next to me. "And I can just tell that you're going to work things
out with your mom when you get home. I just *know* it," he said, as he took
my hand in his and kissed it, causing me to blush.

"You really think?" I asked, hopeful. Maybe he was right. Maybe my mom and
I could sit down, have a good-heart-to-heart..maybe. There was always that
possibility, and after seeing these last few weeks pass by me, there was
nothing that couldn't happen.

"I do," Lance said, kissing the tip of my nose. "I also think that this
party tonight is gonna rock. I can't wait. So what if we all wake up with
huge hangovers tomorrow? It's not like we have a show to do!" Lance laughed
at this and then looked at me. "And hey, as long as I'm with you, I don't
care. I'm just happy that the tour is finally over and that were finally
gonna get some *real* down time together." I grinned at the idea of Lance
and I finally being alone, and couldn't help leaning over to kiss him.

Once we parted, Lance looked down at his watch and then groaned. "Another
interview to do...another rehearsal...you know, the last day of the tour
and they wanna work us to the bone. I almost think that our managers don't
want us to enjoy the party tonight..they want to work us all to death, so
that all we want to do is sleep." Lance grinned. "Well, I have other plans
for tonight," he said, raising his eyebrows mischievously at me. "Good
ones."

"I think I know what you mean by that," I said dryly as Lance pushed me
down on the bed.

"You're perceptive, Stephen. I like that," Lance murmured against my lips,
before kissing me once more. And just as his hand began to run up my thigh,
a knock at the door broke us apart.

"Damnit," Lance swore as he sat up. "Oh, well..there'll be plenty of time
for this later," he grinned at me, before calling out, "Who is it?"

"Chris," the voice called out from behind the door. "Scoop, the limo for
the interview is leaving in a few seconds, so you better finish up what--or
who--you're doing and get down there!"

"Yes sir!" Lance called out, with a sigh. He stood up and then looked back
down at me, where I was still lying on the bed. "You wanna come along with
us?"

I shook my head. "Nah...Lance, to be honest with you, the idea of listening
to you and the rest of the guys answering questions is kinda...well," I
tried to find the right word, so that I wouldn't offend him. Lance held up
his hands.

"Boring?" I laughed.

"Yeah, sorry to tell you the truth, but yeah...it is," I admitted, my face
turning red.

"Don't worry about it--you're right. It is boring. Especially when you have
to keep saying the same answers over and over." He paused and smiled at
me. "And over and over and over--"

"Alright!" I yelled, kicking him with my foot. "Get out of here and go to
your adoring public. Before you bore me to sleep!" Lance leaned down, a
devilish look on his face as he placed his mouth over mine.

"So I'm boring, huh? Someone's gonna get a spanking later on for that,"
Lance said slyly, before kissing me once more.

"Ooh, well if that's the case, then you're boring me beyond belief," I
said, my eyes growing enthusiastic at Lance's promise. We kissed once more
before Lance headed for the door. Just as he was about to leave, he turned
to me.

"Love you," he said simply, his eyes growing soft as he stared at me.

"Love you too," I called back, placing my fingertips to my lips. Lance just
grinned and left, leaving me alone for the first time that day.

I lay on the bed for a few minutes, still tasting Lance's kiss on my
lips. I let out a content sigh as I stared at the ceiling. The quiet was
peaceful, lulling me to sleep...when I heard the sound of running footsteps
pounding down the hallway, towards my room. They stopped in front of my
door.

"Stephen? Are you in there? Stephen?" I opened my eyes up at the sudden
noise.

"Yeah...who is it?" I called out as I pulled myself into a sitting
position.

"It's Josh...Cynthia's on the phone.." I stood up, walking to the door and
opening it up. He stood there in front of me, completely out-of-breath from
his sprint.

"Aren't you supposed to be at an interview?" I asked him, as I stepped out
into the hallway. Josh nodded.

"Yup..I'm always late though. I just wanted to talk to my girl before I
left for the day. I really miss Cynthia...but you might want to see if
something's wrong with her. She sounds a little weird to me, but then--"
Josh shrugged. "It might just be the connection. Or it might just be
Cynthia--you never know," he added with a laugh before continuing. "Oh
well, the phone is in the room at the end of the hall..I'll talk to you
later, Stephen!" Josh shouted out as he boarded an elevator.

"See ya!" I called back as I headed to the end room. There was the phone,
off the hook on the table as I walked into it. I picked it up and placed it
to my ear.

"Hello? Cynthia?"

"Stephen?" Stephen? Where the hell did that come from?

"Hey, no `Stevie'? What? You're back in Wisconsin and you think you're too
good to call me Stevie?" I teased my cousin. No laughter, like I had
expected. I heard her take a deep, nervous breath. "Cynthia, what's wrong?"
I said frantically.

"Stephen...sit down," she said, and I could tell that she was trying not to
cry. "Please, sit down." Oh my God. The first thought that flew into my
head was Natalie. Something had happened to Natalie.

"Is Natalie okay?" I shouted into the receiver, imagining the absolute
worst case scenario possible. "Is she alright? She's not hurt...or sick..."

"Natalie's fine! Stop screaming at me!" Cynthia roared back. "Stephen, it's
your mother! For God's sake, just shut up and listen to me."

"My mom?" I said, feeling my hands become cold and clammy. I felt like I
had been punched in the gut. I started to shake. My mom? `What now?' I
thought with disdain. "What's her problem now?"

"Stephen...she's dead."

Dead? I didn't hear right. Maybe the phone connection was bad, as Josh had
said earlier.  I shook my head, not believing what I had just heard.

"Cynthia, stop it. That's not funny," I said shakily. "Stop it." I heard
her begin to cry, not able to hold her tears back any longer.

"No, Stephen..I wish I was. She's dead Stephen...mom and dad wanted me to
call you and tell you...she killed herself..." I fell into the chair that
was next to me, feeling as cold as ice. I was shaking terribly. My throat
was dry. And for a second, I thought I was dreaming. I pinched myself. It
hurt like hell.

"How did she..." I let my voice trail off, not wanting to say the words,
because that way they would seem more true. I heard Cynthia sob for a few
more seconds before getting the next words out.

"She didn't show up for work..and when they called her house, no one
answered the phone. So one of her co-workers went over....knocked down the
door and they found her in the bathroom....she...she.." I heard Cynthia
gasp. "She slit her wrists, Stephen..."

I sat there in the chair, feeling like a statue. Not able to move, breathe
or think. She was dead. My mother was dead. I was an orphan. Natalie was an
orphan.

Natalie.

"How is Natalie?" I asked, my body and mind springing back to life as I
thought about my sister. "Is she okay? Did you tell her?"

"My mom told her...Stephen, she's a wreck. She keeps asking for you,"
Cynthia said quietly. "I didn't want to call you, because I know it's the
last night of the tour--"

"Fuck the tour," I spat out, jumping up from the seat. "I'm booking the
next flight out to Wisconsin--"

"No, book it to your home, Stephen. We're all flying out in an hour or so
to your house...we have to go and make the funeral plans...oh, Stephen,"
Cynthia said, breaking down once more.

"It's okay, Cynthia...I'll be home as soon as I can get there. Tell Natalie
I love her and Cynth--"

"What?"

"I love you too."

"I know, I love you too Stephen. Hurry home." I hung up the phone and it
suddenly crossed my mind how important it was to tell each other that we
loved each other. Life was frail. It could end at any second. Thank you
mother for that last gift before you exited the Earth forever.

Like a zombie, I walked out of the room and back down to the room that
Lance and I shared.

Lance.

I had completely forgotten about him. An image of his excited face filled
my mind, as I walked into the room. He was so excited about the party
tonight. I couldn't ruin it for him..I just couldn't...he had to be
happy. This was his life and I wasn't about to ruin it for him by dragging
him into one of my crises. I couldn't...what was I going to do. And the
answer came to me just light, like a sudden flash of lightening.

I had to break up with him. That was the only logical answer.



...I feel great. I lied to save your feelings...****

I was pacing back and forth, wringing my hands. I had scheduled a 7
p.m. flight to my house in New York. It was the earliest one I could get.

And the guys weren't back yet. They were still at their all day interview
and rehearsal excursion, and I wished they would get back as soon as
possible. I just wanted to break up with Lance and get it over with.

Was I really doing the right thing? I didn't want to break up with
him. That was the last thing on Earth I wanted to do. I loved him so much,
my chest hurt at the idea of severing any ties with him. It would hurt, I
thought, it would hurt a lot. But I didn't want to wrap him up in my
problems. I wanted to save him from all of the emotional crap that I would
be soon going through. I wanted him to enjoy his life and not be dragged
down by my problems. Lance had always protected me in the times I needed
it, and I wanted to do the same for him.

I began to cry for the hundredth time that day. My mother...she was
gone. Gone. I never had a chance to reconcile with her. I never had a
chance to talk to her again. The last image of her I had was one of her
disowning me. She disowned me...

The tears flowed down my face. Did she really mean that? Or had she done
that in the heat of the moment? I'd never know...

My head jerked up at the sound of voices coming down the hall. It was the
guys. I could clearly make them out--they were talking about the party that
night. They were excited. They were happy. My lips formed a halfhearted
smile as I thought about Lance's enthusiasm about tonight. I couldn't ruin
it for him by telling him that my mother had killed herself. And if I knew
Lance, he'd want to come home with me right away, post haste. He would skip
out on the concert. I knew him..he had already left the tour once without
any thought and he'd do it again.

Just then I heard the door open up. I was standing at the window and I
wiped the tears away from my face. A pair of feet creeped into the room and
then I felt Lance's arms encircle my waist and his lips gently press
themselves against the nape of my neck. For the first time ever, a sense of
dread filled my body, and not the usual giddy thrill that occurred whenever
Lance kissed me.

"I'm back," he whispered in my ear. "Ready to run off to the auditorium for
the show tonight, but I'm back. So...are you ready for that spanking, yet?"
I could feel his warm breath against my neck as he waited for my answer. I
had to break up with him sometime and Lance had just given me the perfect
opening...maybe it was supposed to end this way...

"God, Lance is that all you think about?" I asked as angrily as I could, as
I turned to face him. "Jesus Christ, can't we even have a conversation
without you getting all hot and bothered?!" I felt my face turn red, as I
watched the confusion flash across his face.

"Stephen, is everything okay?" He asked uncertainly, backing away from
me. "Geez, I'm sorry, I was just joking around."

"That's all you do. You joke around and never take anything seriously," I
spat out as I sat back on the bed. My hands were shaking again, but I
managed to control them as I squeezed them into tight fists. Lance sat next
to me and looked at me with a very worried expression on his beautiful
face.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" he asked, sounding nervous.

"No," I said, looking at him like he was an idiot. "Maybe I'm just tired of
being your plaything all the time." The words were harsh and even hurt my
ears to hear them. I liked being his plaything. This wasn't the way I
wanted to break up with him, but it was happening. My heart felt like it
was falling to pieces.

"*Plaything*?" Lance said, looking taken aback by the word I had
chosen. "Excuse me, Stephen, but I've never seen you say `no'. In fact, I
can think of a couple of times when I wanted to tell you to stop, but I
couldn't bring myself to."

"Oh, and now you tell me. Jesus, Lance...if that's the way you feel, maybe
we need sometime apart." There I had said it. That was easy, I thought. And
quick--very quick.

But the look on his face when I said those words. You would have thought I
said *his* mother had died and not mine. Lance reached out for my hand,
trying to remedy the situation that had just occurred between us, but being
the asshole I was, I pulled away.

"I'm serious Lance," I said, my voice falling to a whisper. "I think we
need sometime apart. I've been thinking about it all afternoon and I just
don't feel right...." I looked at Lance. Big mistake. His eyes had grown
glassy once I had made my proclamation.

"Stephen...please, what did I do wrong? What happened? Why?" he shook his
head, not understanding why I was saying this. I didn't understand why I
was saying this. All I knew is that Lance deserved someone better than
me..someone who wasn't so fucked up. He deserved a good life ..and a better
boyfriend than I could ever be....

"Just...Lance...I'm not happy," I lied, the words coming out of my mouth
awkwardly. "I need to get out of this relationship...and I don't think it's
right to keep you tied down with me."

Lance took a deep breath. "Can't we talk about this?" he pleaded. "Stephen,
please. I never knew you were unhappy...is it my fault?" His eyes..those
eyes that I had placed all my trust in..the ones that I woke up looking
into every morning...they were hurting so badly. And it was my fault. I
never wanted to hurt him this way...

"No, Lance, it's not. I just think it's better if I leave. Tonight."

"Stephen, please...tell me what happened between us. We were okay this
morning before I left.." He was pulling at the last remaining threads of
our relationship. He was trying to piece it all together and I kept
snipping it apart. I didn't want to hurt him, but I was...

"Lance, I'm sorry, but I can't go stringing you along," I said flatly. My
voice was coming out cold, antiseptic...I wanted to cry right there as I
stared at my...boyfriend? Could I still call him that?  "It's over between
us..I guess," I took a deep breath, preparing myself for another lie. "I
guess, it's been over for awhile and I never wanted to tell you. I just
don't care about you anymore." There I had said it.

Lance stared at me for a few seconds, and his once glassy eyes turned
hard. "Fine," he spat out. "Fine, if you wanna be an asshole and be that
way, then fine. Good-bye Stephen. Thanks for nothing." I closed my eyes as
he got off the bed. I heard his footsteps walk towards the door and then
head back towards where I was sitting. My eyes were still closed as I was
trying to hold back the tears that desperately wanted to fall from my eyes.

"And you wanna know something, Stephen?" I heard Lance ask me, his voice
coming out harsh. I heard the rattle of metal as something heavy landed in
my lap. "You can have your stupid bracelet back. And yes, I did feel like
it labeled me as your boyfriend. I only wore it to be nice." And with that,
he was gone. Out of my life. And I had never hurt so much.



 ...I'm not over you. I'm not over you. I'm not over you...****

The guys had already left for the auditorium shortly after Lance's exit
from our room. I was surprised that he didn't call security on me to get me
out of the room that we had once shared, but I didn't think he was like
that. Instead, I pulled my already-packed suitcases from under the bed and
opened one of them up. I placed the bracelet in between stacks of my
shirts, and then poked around some more. My fingertips brushed against
something and I pulled it out.

My God, I thought as I stared at the picture of Lance and I that Britney
had taken. How the hell were we so happy then and now...I shook my head at
the mess that we had become. How did I know that this would have happened?
That I would break us up? That I would hurt so much?

I began to cry again. I wanted to tell Lance the truth so bad. That my
mother had died. She was gone and I didn't know what to do anymore. But
telling him would have dragged him into my problems and that was exactly
what I didn't want. I threw the photo of us back into the suitcase and
zipped it shut. Grabbing my bags, I took one last look at the room I was in
and then walked out of it and into the hallway--and smack dab into Justin
Timberlake.

"Jesus Christ!" I yelled as he ran into me at full impact, and nearly
knocked me over. "Watch where you're going, will you?" After realizing who
I was, Justin glared at me.

"Yeah and fuck you too, Stephen. We all know you used Lance just until you
needed him," Justin said angrily. I looked at the curly headed singer in
shock. Used him? Until I needed him? What was he talking about?"

"Come again?" I asked him, my voice rising with anger.

"Oh, come off it Stephen. You were using Lance because he's rich and famous
and because the tour is ending, you don't need him anymore. Lance told us
you were tired of the relationship...so just get off your high horse
already." Lance told them? Well, a voice in my head spoke up, he probably
wasn't all smiles when he met up with the guys, now was he?

"I was not using him, Justin!" I shouted. "I loved Lance...I love him
still."

"Well, you have a funny way of showing it. If I'm mistaken, you don't love
a person by breaking their heart." Justin shouted, as he made his way to
his room. "Now if you'd get the fuck out of my sight, I have to get
something from my room and get back to the limo..."

I was panicking. They thought I was a groupie..or something even worse. A
band I had barely cared about when I had first met them...I fell in love
with Lance Bass because I loved *him*. Not because he was in some
teenybopper band. I didn't even know his name when I met him. I blindly
reached out for Justin. I had to tell someone...

"Justin, please listen to me," I cried out, grabbing his elbow as he passed
me by. Justin looked at me in surprise, the anger fading from his face as
he saw my expression turn from harsh to somber.

"Stephen..are you okay?" he asked, looking concerned as I began to break
down once more. My crying had turned to hysterical sobbing as I fell to the
floor, collapsing into a huddle. I couldn't hide it anymore...I just
couldn't....I was so embarrassed that I was crying like a little girl, but
I hurt too much to hide it. My mother...Lance...I felt like my world was
falling apart. Justin grabbed me by the shoulders and looked at me straight
in the eyes.

"Justin....I broke up with Lance....because...my mother...she's dead..." I
sobbed, as he stared at me with a shocked expression on his face.

"Your mother died?" Justin exclaimed. "And you didn't tell Lance?" I shook
my head.

"No, I couldn't. I couldn't ruin the last night of the tour for him...to
drag him into my problems. It's not right, Justin. I care too much about
Lance to do that."

He let out a bitter laugh at my twisted logic. "I think the night's already
been ruined for him, Stephen. Why didn't you just tell him?"

"I couldn't. He'd want to leave the tour tonight...I'm going home now,
Justin. And he would have wanted to come with me. I know Lance. I couldn't
let him do that."

"So you're gonna let him think that you don't care for him anymore, right?"
Justin asked in disbelief, looking at me like I was insane. "Just like
that?"

"I have to..It's the only way..." I looked up at him again. "Please,
Justin--don't tell him." His eyes grew round at my request.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, holding his hands like a shield in front of
him. "I can't lie to Lance. He has a right to know about this. He's upset
and I know he still cares about you."

"Justin, please," I begged him, looking at my watch. I had to get going
soon. "Look, I kept your secret when you asked me to." He stared at me as
though I had slapped him in the face. I bet he didn't think I would have
ever brought that back up, but I did and now I was holding over his head.

"Stephen," Justin said shaking his head. "I don't like this one bit..."

"Please, Justin...you can tell him in a few months..when the pain won't be
so fresh for either of us," I managed to choke out. A few months? A few
months without Lance? God, I could barely imagine one day without Lance,
let alone a few months. But you have to do what you have to do, I thought
as I pulled myself off the floor and stared at Justin squarely in the
eye. I held his gaze, challenging him...finally, he caved in.

"Okay, okay," Justin muttered. "I'll keep your secret, but I think you're
making a huge mistake, Stephen."  I smiled thinly, despite how rotten I was
feeling on the inside. I felt like my heart had been torn out of my chest
as I picked up my bags off the floor.

"Thanks, Justin," I said, giving him a brief hug. "You don't know how much
I appreciate it. And at least you know I'm not a total creep."

"Never thought you were," he said, a nervous half-smile appearing on his
face, "And Stephen..I'm really sorry about your mom. I mean, I know how
lame it sounds, but I am...I just wish Lance knew. I know if something
happened to Harris's family, I'd want to be the first to know no matter
what." As I turned to the elevator, I felt that Justin's parting words were
like a knife in my heart....'no matter what'....yeah, right, I thought as I
left the hotel.



..."The French have a saying for it: to say good-bye is to die a little"...
-Raymond Chandler, `The Long Goodbye'

I stood in the airport terminal, hoping, silently praying that that Justin
would have told Lance what had happened. And that Lance would come after me
like Josh had come for Cynthia. But I boarded the airplane. And no one came
after me.

As I sat on the plane, my fingers tightening around the armrest as the
plane took off for home, all I could think of was, "Goodbye Lance...I'll
miss you."



So what do you think? Hmmm? Mail me at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and
tell me. That's all for now, thanks for reading...love, Gabriella.....



(These are the following song lyrics used in this story (it's a long list,
and I don't want to get sued):

* "Half a World Away"
** So.Central Rain (I'm Sorry)
**** "I'm Not Over You"--these three songs are by R.E.M. (wonderful band, I
should add here) all songs are Copyright R.E.M./Athens Ltd 1991, 1984,
and 1998.

*** "What Makes You Happy"--Liz Phair, 1998, don't know the copyright on
this, but I know that she did write it. Please don't sue me...)