Date: Wed, 28 Jun 2000 00:47:53 CDT
From: Colleen Hasiuk <reader_colleen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tears In Your Eyes Chapter 1

Story Title:  Tears In Your Eyes
Chapter Title:  "I'm Not That Innocent..."
Author's Name:  Colleen Hasiuk
E-mail:  reader_colleen@hotmail.com

*********

DISCLAIMER:  I do not know any of these people, neither do I know their
sexual orientations... this story is NOT REAL.  I merely took them and
played with them for a while... *wink*  (Get those thoughts out of your
head!  Shame on you!)  If you're too young to be reading this, please go
away.  I don't want anybody to get in trouble because of something I wrote.
And, I am a "chick", so don't expect much sex.  This is a character story,
not a quickie.  Feedback is good (reader_colleen@hotmail.com).  Thanks go
out to Yuli, Becca and Samantha.  You guys are the greatest!  This has got
to be one of the longest disclaimers in the archives, so I'm going to go
away now.  Now, onwards to the good stuff!  (I hope!)  BTW:  *** indicates
stuff that should be in italics, like dreams.  HINT, HINT!  *grin*

*********


Chapter 1:  I'm Not That Innocent...

	***It started the same way every time.  He woke up in a dark room, but he
knew he wasn't alone.  He was lying on a bed, naked, and he couldn't move.
His arms were tied to the bedframe and he was gagged.  He could sense a
figure in the darkness, watching him, waiting.  Waiting for just the right
moment to hurt him.  Just like always.

	This scene had been played out more times than he could count.  No matter
how hard he struggled, he could never get free, and *it* happened.  The one
thing he could never figure out how to stop.  The one thing that he wasn't
in control of in his life.  He hated it, and his tormentor knew it.  He
played on it, nearly driving him to the brink of insanity time and time
again.  But there was nothing he could do.

	The dark figure started to move closer and closer and he started to
struggle, knowing what was coming.  The dark figure seemed to take some kind
of perverse pleasure in his squirming.  Closer, it came until he could smell
the figure's cologne.  A face loomed over him and he tried to scream through
the gag, because he recognized that face...***


	Lance started up, covered in a cold sweat.  He had to bite his tongue to
keep from screaming and waking up the others.  This nightmare was the tamest
one yet, most of the others played out the scene in such graphic detail that
Lance woke up screaming.  Good thing he had such a deep voice.  His screams
weren't quite as loud as Justin's or Chris' would have been.  He didn't want
to wake the others because he didn't want them to know his secret.  It was
too embarrassing.

	The nightmare had been a reality for more than five years, but Lance
couldn't tell anyone.  It was his fault.  That's what he had been told, more
times than he could remember.  If he wasn't such a tease, he wouldn't have
to hurt like he did.  He needed to be kept in line.  And that's what
happened, had been happening.

	Long ago, Lance's spirit had been broken until there was nothing left of
the boy who had left Mississippi to pursue a dream of stardom with *NSync.
His innocence had fallen by the wayside, as so many other things had over
the years, not the least of which was his virginity.  However, the years of
lost innocence had taught him to be a good actor, so that not even his own
mother saw the truth in his eyes.  He was always careful to keep his pale
green eyes blank of anything that could give him away.  To the guys, as well
as to the rest of the world, Lance was a normal guy.  However, if the others
only knew what he was *really* like, they would hate him.  For that very
reason, he could never tell them.  Never.  But sometimes, he was tempted.
God knows how he had been tempted to spill everything!  But he couldn't.  He
knew that.

  	Lance had only ever come close to telling one person his secret, and it
wasn't his mother.  For some strange reason, he had almost told Joey earlier
that day.  Well, half of it, anyway.  He didn't even want to think about the
other half.  He didn't want to think about the other thing that had
happened.  He didn't even know why he wanted to tell Joey, but he did.  They
had been talking about various things earlier and it had almost slipped out.
  But Lance somehow managed to stop himself before he said anything.  What
if Joey hated him because of what had happened, or worse, told everyone else
and made them hate him, too?  Joey would blame him and Lance didn't think he
could handle his friend's hatred.  True, it was mostly his fault, but he
couldn't help it.  It was just who he was.  But he didn't know what he would
do if the guys hated him.  Probably kill himself.

	Lance had thought about suicide in the past, and even attempted it once,
not too long ago.  He had pleaded ill one night after a concert and had gone
to his room with a bottle of pills that he had bought earlier in the day.
He didn't even know what they were- he had just bought them.  He had also
bought a bottle of vodka and it sat beside the pills on the table next to
his bed.

	After writing a letter to his family, and then shorter ones to the guys, he
had downed the pills and vodka.  Laying back on the bed, he imagined he felt
the life draining out of him.  Getting sleepier by the second, he was
unconcious when there came a knock on his door.  When there was no answer,
the person on the other side- JC- used the spare key to get in.  Seeing the
unresponsive figure on the bed had totally freaked him out, eventually
requiring him to be sedated at the hospital while they pumped Lance's
stomach.

	JC finding Lance like that was the first real indication that the rest of
the band had that there was something seriously wrong with him.  However,
Lance wasn't talking.  Not even after management threatened to send him to a
therapist.  Management thought he was stressed and depressed from the hectic
life of a superstar.  The guys, on the other hand, knew deep down that it
was something more, but Lance was surprisingly closemouthed about what was
bothering him.  If anything, he seemed angry that JC had found him that
night and most likely saved his life.  The other guys couldn't understand
it.  They talked about it and decided to leave Lance alone.  He'd come to
them in his own time, or so they thought.

	Lance had no indication of telling the others his story.  He couldn't risk
their anger and disappointment in him.  He kept thinking that maybe it was
all just a bad dream, and that he would wake up eventually.  If it was a
dream, he had yet to wake up.  Suddenly, there was a knock on his door,
startling him out of his musings.

	"Lance?" a voice called from the other side.  It was JC.  Lance made a face
to himself and kept silent, pretending to be asleep.  JC, however, knew him
better and kept at it.  "Lance?"  After a few more minutes, Lance heard JC
sigh.  "If it means anything, I'm sorry," JC said before Lance heard him
walk away and enter his own room down the hall.  Lance silently started to
cry.  Or at least he thought he was silent.  Maybe his deep voice wasn't as
quiet as he thought, because moments later, there was another soft knock at
the door.  This time it was at the one that connected his and Joey's rooms.
His room was also connected to Justin's room on the other side of him.

	"Lance?" Joey called through the door.  Lance got up and unlocked the door,
allowing Joey to come in.  Joey took one look at Lance's soaked shirt and
red eyes and pulled him into a hug.

	"What's wrong?" Joey asked, concerned.  Lance shook his head.

	"Nothing.  I just couldn't sleep."

	"Don't lie to me," Joey said.  Lance looked at him in surprise.

	"What?"

	"I heard Josh knock on your door, and I saw that you didn't open it for
him.  What's up between you two?"

	"Nothing," Lance insisted.  "Why do you keep asking me this?  There is no
fucking problem between me and JC!" Lance was pissed, and Joey didn't want
to face his wrath.

	"I'm sorry, it's just we're worried about both of you.  Have you looked at
him closely lately?" Joey asked.  Lance shook his head.  "He looks even
worse than you do.  Justin told me he's crying himself to sleep at night,
and even then, he doesn't sleep for more than two hours at a time.  Justin
keeps having to run back and forth between rooms, and it's wearing him
down."  Lance felt a flash of guilt, but quickly pushed it back down.

	"And you're telling me this because...?"

	"Lance, don't you care?" Joey demanded.  Lance's face paled.

	"I'm sorry," he said quickly.  "I didn't mean it."  Joey studied him for a
minute, making Lance very uncomfortable with the scrutiny.  Finally, Joey
sighed and backed off, sensing that he wasn't going to get any more out of
the younger man.

	"Did you have another nightmare?" Joey asked, changing the subject.
Lance's eyes widened with shock.

	"How..."

	"Did I know?  My room is usually right next to yours, Scoop.  I hear you
when you wake up.  You haven't been loud enough to wake the others, but I
definately hear you," Joey informed him.  Lance's face reddened with
embarrasment.

	"What exactly do you hear?"

	"Mostly you saying 'no' to something.  You're not loud enough for me to
catch more than a few words at a time.  Is something really bothering you?"
Joey was really worried and Lance smiled at his friend's concern.

	"I'm fine.  I'm just a little stressed right now, that's all.  Between the
tour and stuff for FreeLance, it's crazy for me."  Joey looked like he
didn't believe him.  *Please don't press,* Lance silently begged with his
eyes.  Joey obviously understood the look, because he smiled and gave Lance
another hug.

	"Since we're both up anyways, you wanna watch a movie?"

	"Sure!  Which one?"

	"It's your room, Scoop.  You pick."

	"I'm in the mood to be scared," Lance said.  "I think I saw The Blair Witch
Project offered in the movie guide."

	"Seen it," Joey yawned.

	"Sorry."

	"Lance, stop it!"

	"Stop what?"

	"Saying that you're sorry.  It gets annoying after a while."

	"Sor- whatever.  Anyways, I thought you said that I could pick the movie!"
Joey blushed.

	"I did."

	"Then I choose... The Sixth Sense!"

	"You seriously want to watch that movie?" Joey laughed.  Lance grinned
back.

	"Sure, it's a couple of hours of mindless entertainment."

	"A Bruce Willis movie is not mindless," Joey argued.  Lance laughed
lightly.

	"To me it is.  Now, settle in and watch the damn movie!"  The two of them
settled back on Lance's bed to watch the movie, content with the comfortable
silence that enveloped the room.

	Once the movie was over, Joey stood up and yawned, with Lance following
suit soon afterwards.  Joey smiled sleepily.

	"Go to bed," he ordered.  Lance laughed, his first real laugh in a long
time.

	"Yes, mommy," Lance teased, crawling under the covers and smiling up at
Joey with a goofy look on his face.  Joey grinned.

	"I ain't your mommy, boy.  I'm your daddy!"  Instead of getting the desired
laugh, Lance's face drained of all color and he curled up on the bed in a
fetal position.  Joey just watched him, confused.

	"Lance?  I'm sorry if what I said bothered you.  What did I say?"  Lance
didn't answer, just lay there, motionless.  "Lance?"  Joey asked, reaching
down to touch Lance's shoulder.  Instantly, Lance shot up as if he'd been
scalded.

	"Don't touch me!"  he screamed. Joey drew his hand back in shock.

	"Lance?"  Lance just looked right through him, like he wasn't even there.
"Lance, you're scaring me.  LANCE!" when Joey yelled his name, Lance finally
blinked.

	"Joe?" Lance said softly, his eyes slowly focusing on his terrified friend.

	"Yeah, it's me.  Who were you expecting?"

	"Him," Lance said so quietly that Joey almost didn't hear him.

	"Who?"

	"Him," Lance said a little louder.

	"Who's him?"

	"One of the Backstreet Boys."

	"Why were you expecting one of the Backstreet Boys?"

	"Because one of them has been raping me."

	Joey's mouth opened and closed a few times, like a fish's before he finally
managed, "What?"  Lance nodded.  "How long?"

	"Since we first met them."

	"Five fucking years?" Joey exclaimed, his mouth doing the fish thing again.
  Lance nodded, thinking that if this wasn't such a serious time, Joey doing
a fish imitation would be pretty funny.  "Who is it, Lance?"  Joey asked
softly.  Lance shook his head this time, shaking his head so violently that
Joey thought he was going to give himself whiplash.  He put one hand on
Lance's arm and tried to look him in the eye.  Lance wouldn't meet his gaze.

	"I can't tell you, Joe" he whispered.  Joey grabbed him by the shoulders
and forced Lance to look at him.

	"Tell me," he demanded.  Lance shook his head again.

	"He told me that he'd kill me if I ever told.  I've said too much already.
Please don't ask me again," Lance begged.  He then turned away, as if he was
ashamed.  Inside, he was terrified that Joey would hate him.  It would serve
him right, it was no one's business but his own.  It was his fault, his
burden to bear.  If Joey hated him, he had no one to blame but himself.
Lance prepared himself to run should Joey yell at him.

	Joey, unaware of Lance's inner turmoil, frowned at the other boy's request,
but he nodded.  "Thank you for telling me.  I'm honoured that you trust me
enough to share your secret," Joey said.  Lance looked at him, shocked.  His
body slowly began to relax from it's tense 'flight' position.

	"You don't hate me?" he finally asked.  Joey just looked at him as if he
were stupid.

	"Why would I hate you, Lance?  It wasn't your fault!"

	"But if I didn't encourage him, maybe he wouldn't have done it.  If I
wasn't such a tease..."

	"Encourage him?  How?  How in the hell have you encouraged anyone to rape
you?  I'll fucking kill all five of them next time we see them!"  Lance
tensed up and started crying again after seeing his friend's anger.  "Lance,
I'm sorry if I upset you.  Come on, you know I hate to see anyone cry,
especially one of my brothers.  Tell me what I can do to make it better,"
Joey pleaded.  Lance just looked at him, his eyes full of tears.

	"You don't know how much this means to me.  You've helped me so much
already.  You don't need to do anything else."

	"You sure?  You want me to stay with you tonight?"

	"Would you?" Lance asked, his eyes full of hope.  "I don't want to seem
like a baby."

	"Lance, if I minded, I wouldn't have asked," Joey said quietly.  Lance
smiled and scooted over on the bed, opening the covers so that Joey could
climb in.  Joey lay down beside his friend and wrapped one arm around him in
a hug.  They lay there for a while, Joey rubbing Lance's back, trying to
relax him enough so that he could fall asleep.  Lance rested his head on
Joey's shoulder, turning his face into Joey's neck.  Joey shivered when
Lance's breath hit his neck because it tickled.

	Lance moved his head long enough to ask, "Are you cold?"

	"No, that tickled," Joey explained.

	"Oh," Lance said, returning his head to Joey's neck.  The soft, even
breathing started to sooth him and the backrubbing started to ease off.
Lance smiled as he felt Joey relax into the first stages of sleep, because
he felt himself following at a rapid pace.

	"I love you, little bro," Joey said as he drifted off to sleep.  Lance lay
there a while longer, wrapped in the safe cocoon of Joey's arms.

	"I love you, too, Joe," he finally said and fell asleep himself.