Date: Mon, 16 Sep 2002 11:34:58 -0400 From: Mikey <mikeyboyz1029@hotmail.com> Subject: Pains Of Forgetfulness Chapter 11 Pains of Forgetfulness Welcome to the eleventh installment of POF. I hope you like this story because I've had a blast writing it. You know the rules. If you're not supposed to read this, then don't. It's that simple. This story is about the pains of forgetting your true love. I have no idea whether any members of *NSYNC are gay, straight, or bisexual. Any similarities are purely coincidental. I don't know if any of them are gay, but I hope so. We can wish, can't we? Comments are welcome at: mikeyboyz1029@hotmail.com. I would love it if you dropped me a line. Ok, now to the story. * * * * * * Chapter Eleven: Things Fall Apart One week later. . . Lance pushed the "Record" button on his mini tape recorder, on which he started dictating. "Dear Journal." He started. "I have used you in a long time. I just felt a little lonely and needed to talk out my frustrations. You see, I did a really bad thing. I ruined my life's happiness I know that one day, my career as a pop singer will disappear and I will need a job. I got rid of the most valuable thing to me, and that's another person's love." Lance started to sob. "You know. . ." a tear rolled down his cheek. "I didn't mean those things I called Mike. I just wanted to save my career. . . You know what? This career isn't worth losing my one true love over." He paused. "Well, Lance, you certainly screwed your life up this time. Mike will hate you . . . forever . . . you used him . . . and when it wasn't convenient, you pushed him away." "What are you going to do, Lance? It sounds like you have a lot of decisions to make . . . Thank you, Journal, for letting me talk this out. . ." Lance pushed the stop button and flopped down onto the bed into his hotel room. * * * * * * BOONE, NC RING! RING! Mike's house phone was ringing. He was sitting on the porch in a daze, swinging back and forth aimlessly on the wooden swing. The phone kept ringing. "I will not answer you, so you might as well stop calling!" Mike hollered. He didn't want to talk to Lance at all. He figured that was him calling now. This week had been one of the most painful ever. Mike couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. All he did was mope around, feeling like another used whore of a big time celebrity. The answering machine came to life. "Hey Mike," It was Bryan. "I know you're there, pick up." Mike walked to the screen door and went inside to grab the phone. "Hello?" Michael answered in a washed out tone. "Hey Mike. You sound horrible" "Yeah, I'm having difficulties with my life right now. "Yeah, man, you and Lance were a great team." "How'd you know we broke up?" "It's on the news. Well, kind of" "What do you mean?" "There was a news story on Lance's alleged homosexuality in the group. People were trying to interview Lance, and he looked so sad. I felt so bad for him. Why did you break up with him?" "Bryan, you know that ever since we met online several years ago, you've been one of my closest friends to me. You're like the brother I never had. Well. . ." "Yes, go ahead, bro!" "Well. . . Lance beat me. He broke my nose." At this point, Mike was bawling hysterically. "Oh no! The bitch! Why did he beat you?" "He's not gay!" "Liar! He's as queer as a three dollar bill." "He told me he wasn't. He even left me unconscious on a hotel balcony and that was the last I saw of him." "That's horrible!" "Yeah. . . Listen. . . I got to go!" "Hey . . . let me in. . .I'm on your front porch." "You! You copied me! That's wrong!" Bryan laughed. Mike went to the door, and there stood Bryan. He was about 5'9", dark blond hair, and greenish blue eyes. For some reason, Mike had never realized how sexy he looked. It was probably because his heart had been taken by someone else during their previous encounters. Now it was free again. "Give me a hug," Bryan said, with arms outstretched. * * * * * * "Ok, book it as soon as possible. And, I want a rental car, nothing special. Maybe a Honda Accord or something like that. . ." Lance was on the phone with his travel agent. "Everything settled? Ok, good. I leave tomorrow morning from La Guardia airport? Ok, thanks. . ." Lance got off the phone and booted up his computer. He started typing an email to Jive Records. Hello, this is Lance Bass, from N*SYNC. I just wanted to let you know that from this day forward, I am no longer a member of this group. This is my written statement. I do not want the press involved, but I know that will be almost impossible. I'm tired of all the gay rumors about me. And just to let you know . . . they're true. . . Signed, James Lance Bass Lance clicked "SEND" and curled up alone in his bed fast asleep. To Be Continued. . . * * * * * * * * * Well, what did you think? Was it garbage and not worth the time of day to read it? Or was it so engrossing you couldn't stop reading it until the deadly words, To Be Continued . . . were placed at the end? Email me or IM me at HPUGuy1029 on AOL Instant Messenger, and tell me what you thought. My address is: mikeyboyz1029@hotmail.com. The next chapter will be up soon, so hold your horses! Well, I've pretty much planned out the whole story very vaguely (although the story has changed significantly since I started it), so if you want to tell me how you think the story should go, then drop me a note. I love email! Until next time, Michael. :)