Date: Tue, 24 Aug 2004 20:44:06 -0600
From: Mike <strytll3r@mac.com>
Subject: Secret Lives 01

Secret Lives
An *N Sync Experience

Disclaimer: I do not know any famous people.  I do not know any friends,
relatives or friends of relatives of any famous people.  This is a creation
by me to help ease my writer's block, and nothing serious will come of it.
Occasionally, this story will divulge into areas that some deem
inappropriate.  If you deem it so, please rant and rave elsewhere.  Thank
you.

I love feedback.  Good, bad, whatever.  Feedback.  Email me @
strytll3r@mac.com

* * * * *


Chapter One

The room erupted into a hurricane of applause.  `Another celebrity,' Jason
thought bitterly, `has entered the room.'  The deafening noise went on for
what seemed like hours.  Jason turned his attention to the man who just
entered the room.  `Ah, the man of the hour.'  Jason half raised his glass
to Andrew Lloyd Weber, gave a mocking salute, and drowned himself with the
double shot of tequila.  He turned back to the bar and scoffed when he saw
that the bartender was also showing reverence to the lordship.

Applause was not going to stop him, though.  He was a man on a mission.
"Hey barkeep."  No response.  Maybe the crowd was too loud.  "HEY, SAMMY!"
The bartender turned toward Jason, scowling.

"May I help you, sir?"

"Sir, that's right.  Like that."  Jason smiled to himself for no reason.
Perhaps he delighted in the irate mood he was putting the bartender in.
"I'll have another one of these, Sammy."  Jason pointed towards the empty
shot glass.

The bartender didn't move.  "Sir, my name is Alex, not Sammy, and this will
be the seventh drink you've had."

Jason's buzz began to slowly wear off.  "Congratulations, Sammy!  You can
count to seven.  So why don't you give me the drink and we'll see if you
know what number comes next".

By this time, the applause had ended and Jason's raised voice began to earn
stares and glances from people throughout the room.  But Jason was
oblivious to all but the need for drink.  That and the increasingly
irritating bartender.

"Perhaps you've had enough, sir."  Alex the bartender stated firmly.

Jason started to laugh hysterically.  A little schmuck of a bartender who
was barely old enough to drink the damn stuff was telling him that he's had
enough.  Before he could respond, he felt a firm grip on his arm, dragging
him away from the liquid gold.  He tried to pull away, but the grip just
tightened.  In a room full of celebrities, there where probably a hundred
bodyguards double his size.  He was now being escorted out of the party.
He turned to face his abductor, and saw . . .

"Oh, it's you," Jason spat out.  Sheila didn't stop moving through the
crowd to respond.  "Great party, by the way.  I love meeting all the
fabulous people, especially that Sam Malone guy back there.  Who knew that
he moved from Boston to New York to . . ."

While Jason was talking, Sheila had guided him through the crowd, out into
the hallway and into the stairway.  When they got there, Sheila flung Jason
into the concrete wall, knocking the air out of him.  Jason fell to his
knees, turned to his side and threw up onto the cement steps.  The
splashing sounds echoed throughout the narrow chamber.

Sheila didn't care.  "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT, YOU ASSHOLE!"  The scream
rebounded off the sterile walls and hit Jason again and again.  He sat,
half in his vomit, clutching his head in his lap.  Sheila also didn't care
that Jason had a headache.  "You're making an ass out of me in there,
Jason!  Everybody's in there and you are making me look like a fucking
fool!"

Jason glanced up angrily.  "I told you I didn't want to come, didn't I?  I
hate musicals.  Everyone knows that!  You should have just let me stay
home!"  Jason closed his eyes and rested his head on the step above him.
The cold concrete soothed the throbbing in his temples a little.  After a
while, he opened his eyes and glanced at Sheila.  She was not going to let
up.

"Jason, I wasn't going to leave you in your apartment so you could look at
old pictures of Vic and cry your fucking eyes out."  At least she's stopped
yelling.  "It's been three fucking weeks since Vic moved out, and you're
even more of a wreck now than you were before.  You needed to get out.  I
dragged you here for your own good."

Jason sat up quickly, fire in his eyes that was quickly extinguished by the
pain created by the sudden movement.  He lay his head back down.  "You did
it for yourself, Shelly, and you know it."  Jason spat the words out as if
they were acid.  "You did it for my own good?  Bullshit!  You dragged me
here because it's opening night and you wanted a date for the party.  Your
ass-faced boyfriend is too ugly to be seen with in public, so you choose
me.  Me, even though you know I hate musicals, I drink when I'm depressed
and I act like an ass when I get drunk."  Sheila shot Jason daggers through
her eyes, but the tequila made Jason unafraid.  "You brought this on
yourself, Shelly, and you know it."  Jason closed his eyes again.  After a
while, he heard the echoing footsteps of Sheila walking off and the
stairway door opening and closing.  And then, silence.

"Oh what a circus, oh what a show!"  Jason sang quietly.

"I think that's the wrong musical, buddy."  A deep voice said from above,
startling Jason and causing him to sit up again.  The pain was back again,
but he didn't care.  He tried to stand, but he lost his footing and slipped
in the coagulating vomit.  Smack!  The step that gave him such relief only
seconds before now quadrupled his pain.  Everything began to turn fuzzy,
and Jason heard footsteps rushing down the flight of steps above him.  A
dark blurry suit came into view.  Strong hands picked him up off the steps
and started to explore his right temple.  He had the softest hands, Jason
noticed, as the stranger gently caressed his face, feeling for broken bones
or something.

"I'm I dying?"  Jason asked.  The suit was becoming blurrier and Jason
could no longer focus.  "Are you an angel?"

The deep voice began to chuckle.  "No, sorry to burst your bubble there.
I'm no angel.  And I don't think you're dying.  You'll probably have a
nasty bump but . . . good thing I . . . name's . . ." And then Jason closed
his eyes and slipped away.

* * * * *

Jason felt the fluorescent lighting burn through his eyelids.  He moaned
softly, feeling a dull throbbing near his temple.  He felt a soft hand grab
his and begin patting.  With each pat, the throbbing intensified a little.
Finally, Jason couldn't take anymore and ventured to open his eyes.  The
light leapt in the slivers, blinding him and causing him to begin to feel
queasy.  Suddenly, strong but gentle hands moved his entire body, rolling
him over causing his head to hand over the edge of the table he laid on.
An instant later, Jason felt the rush of his stomach contents force its way
back the way it came in.  The smell hit, causing his gag reflex to kick in.
After what seemed like an eternity, the torrid stream suddenly stopped and
the hands rolled him back.  Jason opened his eyes again.  The pain
increased again, but was bearable.  He turned and saw Sheila standing
there, all dressed up for the opening night of Whistle Down the Wind,
holding his hand and half smiling at him.

"Feeling better, sweetie?" Sheila whispered, barely mouthing the words.
Jason could only nod his head.  "Good."  She suddenly dropped his hand and
began to leave.

Jason started to get up and quickly realized that was a bad idea.  He
lowered himself back down and pleaded with Sheila with his eyes.  She
wasn't buying it.

"I have to get back to the party," she said nonchalantly.  "Jason, you can
be such an asshole sometimes, but I still love you."  She grabbed her purse
and headed toward the door.  "That's the only reason why I'm not going to
scream at you for all the embarrassment you caused me tonight.  That can
wait until tomorrow."  And with that, she switched the lights off and left.

"Oh great," Jason said to the empty room.  She was still pissed.  And who
could blame her?  He had acted like such an ass at the party.  He robbed
her of her spotlight, stole her thunder.  He listened in the quiet room,
hearing her footsteps slow fade away.  He sighed.  He was alone.  Again.
"I'm all alone," Jason started singing softly.  "At the drive in movie.
It's a feeling that ain't too groovy . . ."

"You know, for a guy who doesn't like musicals, you sure can quote quite a
few lyrics from them."  A voice coming from Jason's left rang out in the
darkness causing him to sit up suddenly.  The pain that had quieted let its
presence be known again as it roared back to life.  Jason held his head in
is hands, sobbing.  Strong hands began to massage his shoulders and rub his
back.  After a long while, Jason sat up and looked at the figure that
startled him.  It was dark, but he didn't look familiar.  His voice sounded
like someone he knew, but couldn't quite place.

The stranger began to chuckle quietly.  "Seems like I tend to bring out the
best in you.  Or are you always that jumpy?"  Jason just gave a questioning
look.  His eyes started to adjust to the darkness and he could see a
slender man about his height and weight.  He had short, messy hair and
smelt like Hugo Boss cologne.  He smiled, and even in the dark, Jason could
see the white teeth sparkle.

Jason ventured to speak.  "I'm sorry, I don't follow you.  Jumpy?"

"Just now.  And in the stairway."

Understanding crept into Jason's eyes.  "Ah, you're the one who made me
fall and hit my head."  The stranger began to nod, the smile fading.  Jason
realized that he probably sounded accusatory.  He quickly added to the guy
"not that it's your fault that I got wasted, made an ass of myself, threw
up and slipped in my puke."  The guy smiled again.  "At least it's not
wholly your fault."

The stranger laughed.  "Ah, so your sense of humor returns."

Jason smiled.  He couldn't quite place it, but talking to this guy seemed
like second nature.  "Yes, my sense of humor, as dry as it is."  He lay
back down.  "Thanks for the massage.  It was just what I needed, how'd you
know?"

"Lucky, I guess."  He ran his slender fingers through his messy hair.
`Blond,' Jason noticed.  His eyes finally grew accustomed to his
surroundings.  `Dirty blond hair.'  "That what works for me, so I figured
why not.  Actually, a foot rub works the best, but I don't really know you,
and I didn't really want to rub your smelly feet when we haven't even met."

"That's all right, the shoulder rub was perfect.  You have," Jason paused
for a moment.  "Hey, who says my feet smell?"  The guy smiled and leapt of
the table an instant before Jason tried to playfully kick him.

Jason's head felt much better, but he wasn't taking any chances and stayed
lying down.  The stranger found a chair and sat down.  A silence descended
in the room, but it didn't feel awkward to Jason.  It was weird, feeling
this comfortable with a complete stranger.  He hadn't felt like this for a
while, now, and suddenly he got scared.  It was too comfortable.  Too
comfortable, too fast.

"So, how'd I get in here?"  Jason asked.  He looked around and noticed the
room for the first time.  It looked to be a preparation room for the party,
with glasses, clean and dirty in one corner, plates of hors d'oeuvre lined
up by the door and empty food carts near the back.

The stranger smiled.  "Well, after you lost consciousness, I made sure you
were all right and then found your friend.  She grabbed Michael Clark
Duncan, the big guy who played Amos, and he carried you in here.  You woke
up a couple of minutes after that."

Jason grimaced.  He glanced at the man who had taken care of him.  "Thank
you," he whispered.  Never before had a complete stranger offered his help
so graciously.

He smiled again.  "It was the least I could do."  He got up off the chair
and came toward Jason.  "With me causing you to fall in the first place."
He extended his hand.  "I'm James."

Jason took the hand and smiled.  "Jason.  Nice to meet you James."

"Likewise."  Their hands lingered intertwined for a moment longer than
usual, and both noticed it the same time and they nervously separated.

James cleared his throat.  "So, what brings you to the party?"

Jason felt relief for the change of subject.  "Sheila.  Ms. Sheila
Tartaglia.  She was in the show.  Got the lead, actually.  Played Sparrow."

James grinned.  "You really don't like musicals, don't you?"  Jason gave
him a confused look.  "Swallow.  The name was Swallow."

"Oh," Jason blushed a little at being caught not knowing his friends
character.  "I knew that, just making sure you knew that."

James laughed.  "So, I passed the test?"

Jason grinned wickedly.  "Perhaps.  The judges are still discussing that."
A comfortable silence descended again.  And again, Jason got scared.
"Anyway," he continued, breaking the moment and causing James to jump a
little.  "Sheila and I have been friends since kindergarten and best
friends since high school.  We dated a while during senior year.  I came
out that summer and she wouldn't talk to me for about a year.  But we
reconciled and moved to New York to make it big.  She dragged me to every
musical that opened, and then when she started getting parts, I got to see
the shows several times.  That's why I know the lyrics."

James sat there for a moment.  "Wow.  That's some story."  He cleared his
throat.  "So, your gay, huh?"

Jason looked at him and saw that he was looking at the floor.  "Isn't
everybody?" Jason joked, causing James to smile.  "And don't tell me you
didn't know."

James looked up shyly.  "I don't know, my gaydar has been out of wack of a
while now.  Ever since my last boyfriend cheated on me with a girl."

Jason hated being in this condition.  Trying to console someone who just
broke up was nerve wracking at best.  He should know, since he saw so many
people try to console him about Vic.  But still, he had to try.  James just
stood there, looking down at the floor.

"Hey, the donkey butt doesn't know what he let go of.  He'll realize it one
day and kick himself."  James smiled and began to laugh.  "And being dumped
for another guy is just as hard, believe me.  I know."

James looked up, and the two locked eyes.  This time, Jason didn't notice
the silence and it was James who eventually broke it.

"Donkey butt?"

Jason chuckled.  "Yeah, I'm forbidden to swear."

James looked confused.  "Forbidden?  By who?"

"Whom," Jason corrected absentmindedly.  "I forbade myself."

James grinned like the Cheshire Cat.  "And let me guess."  He straightened
up and folded his arms.  "You're teacher.  English teacher."

"How'd you know?" Jason asked, flabbergasted.

"Lucky guess."  James cleared his throat.  "Anyway, enough about you.  Now
it's about me.  All about me."

Jason laughed whole heartedly.  He rolled to his side and propped himself
up on his elbow.  "I'm all ears."

James glanced down.  "Yeah, tell me about it, Dumbo."

"Hey,"

James tisked him quiet.  "Jason, you need to focus, now.  It's all about
me, remember.  OK, so it's being about a month since Josh and I broke up.
Another friend of mine, Joey had enough. . ."

"Wow," Jason interrupted.  "That's a lot of j's."  James gave him a
confused look.  "Josh, Joey, James.  Jason.  Any more?"

James grinned.  "Actually. . . yeah.  There's Justin."  Jason rolled his
eyes.  "And Josh cheated with a girl named Julia."

"You lie."

James started laughing and Jason soon joined in.  "I wish."  Eventually the
laughter died down.  "OK, where was I?"

"Joey," Jason supplied.

"Oh yeah."  James continued.  "Well, Joey drags me here to the big city to
get away from it all.  He's in the play, too.  He played Jesus."

Jason just stared blankly.  "Jesus was in the play?  When."

James rolled his eyes.  "Nevermind.  Anyway, I also was not in the party
mood, so I slipped away into the stairway, and the rest is history, I
guess."

"Or fate."

"What was that?"  James asked, startled.

"I was talking to myself.  Sorry."  Jason scolded himself for not having a
better internal monolog.

"OK."  James looked down of a second, and Jason got scared.  Just when he
started to actually like the guy, he screws it up.

"But, talking to yourself or not, I think I feel the same way."  Jason
could barely hear James' whisper, and didn't know how to respond.  After a
moment, James started to get up, but Jason grabbed his hand and made him
sit back down.

"Jason, I don't know what's happening.  Ever since I met you, well, ever
since you've been conscious, I've become very comfortable with you.  Like
I've known you for a while.  And I would like to get to know you better."

Jason cleared his throat.  "You know, I feel the same way."  Relief filled
James' face, and Jason was ecstatic that he had caused that beautiful
sight.  "I want to take it slow.  Is there somewhere we could go to?  Have
coffee and talk?"

James held Jason's hand and smiled.  "I would love to.  Lead on."

* * * * *

End of Chapter One -- So, what do you guys think.  Write me.
strytll3r@mac.com