Date: Sun, 14 Jan 2001 10:34:16 -0800 (PST)
From: Reid <saboteur_98155@yahoo.com>
Subject: Took For Granted- Chapter 3 (gay male/celebrity/soulmating)

S  O  U  L  M  A  T  I  N  G
============================
by reid


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|| DISCLAIMER  ||
|||||||||||||||||

This story is meant to imply nothing about the
sexuality of the real people involved. Anything
mentioned from this point on is purely fictional and
not meant in any way but the highest regard.

The lyrics used within are not meant to imply anything
about the individual preferences, practices, or
lifestyle choices any of the musical artists mentioned.
The lyrics are not used for any personal monetary
profit...

If you have any objections to my writing, then why in
the name of Jesus are you reading this? I know some of
you might like Hanson but I don't buy the whole
"I didn't know it was a GAY STORY!" defense. So shut
up and don't send me any more hate mail you stupid,
obesessed little Christian girls.

As always.... Comments, Suggestions, and Criticisms
can be sent to saboteur_98155@yahoo.com

I'm trying hard to stay away from the "sophomore
letdown" with my second story. I hope you're all
liking it and eagerly anticipating further chapters.
Or you can just enjoy it and that's fine too.

WARNING!!! My stories contain mature themes and
may project images or scenarios that are
inappropriate for younger or sensative readers.

I can be reached on ICQ at 70639912...
Or on AIM at Reid00005992...

Enjoy!

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||  Took For Granted- Chapter 3                     ||
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Zac didn't want to wake up. His legs from his ankles all the way up to his
asscheeks were sore from yesterdays amazing romp in the bathtub. It was
hard to ignore the shaking being done to his shoulder but if anyone could
ignore it and go back to sleep, it would be him. But the shaking kept
going and he heard Tay keep saying his name almost frantically, and part
of him wanted Reid to remove Tay and tell him that poor, handicapped Zac
needed his sleepy time.

Zac groaned and tried to shove Tay's hand away with his shoulder, but the
dorky bastard just wouldn't get the message. Thank you my white knight, he
thought and lifted his head up, expecting to see Reid shooting Tay a nasty
look. But Reid wasn't there and that was odd. Zac grumbled and sat up,
mopping the crusty sweat from his brow on the bed sheet. After blinking a
few times, he looked over and expected Tay to want him to play basketball
or something, the dimwit. But when he saw Tay's face, he knew it was
serious.

"Zac, we need to talk."

"OK..." Zac said and sat still.

"Zac, they know. About you and Reid." Tay's voice was absolutely serious.

"Oh shit..." He felt the anxiety begin to form, "Oh God..."

Taylor leaned forward and put his hands on Zac's shoulders, "Look, do you
know where they could have seen you? If the pictures just show you and
Reid hanging out or something, we can dispute it."

Zac was speechless, "I don't... I don't know, Tay."

"Think! Think very hard, Zac..."

"Does it matter?" Zac suddenly felt bold.

"What do you mean?"

"Tay, does it really matter? Does it matter if they know I'm gay?"

"Yes! Yes it does Zac! If everyone knows that you're gay, it could screw
us out of a lot of fans!"

The boldness turned to offense, "It's not like they think... you're gay."

"That doesn't matter. If they see that you're gay, they'll project it on
me and Ike and that'll be the end of the band! We'll lose fans and we'll
never get another chance to do well for ourselves!"

"How selfish are you?!" Zac hissed, "You're not the one who can't use his
hands anymore! You're not the one who has to get his ass wiped for him!
Why the hell are you in here talking to me like I did something wrong?!"

Tay's voice immediately took on a softer tone, "Look, Zac... this is
important."

"Why the hell does it matter?! I'm the one who's not gonna play my
instrument anymore," Tay recoiled but Zac didn't feel at all merciful,
"What about that, Tay?! Did you think about that? Did you think about me
not being able to play with you guys anymore?! Did that occur to you for
one fucking second before you came in here and bitched me out?!"

"I'm sorry..."

"Awww, you're sorry. Everyone is sorry. It doesn't matter if they have
pictures of Reid and me because it's not like people will stay away from
me and miss out on my drumming. Or the drumming that I would be doing if
my fucking hands didn't work anymore! Before you get a bug up your ass
about pictures of me and Reid, you need to stop being so damn selfish."

Zac took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead, taking a
great deal of satisfaction from Tay's inability to look him in the eye. He
knew that he'd hurt his older brother and he was glad. It felt good. It
felt good to burst the bubble of one of the many people who were worried,
but not about him. Oh no, they were worried about the band. They were
scared shitless that the lack of a drummer would be the death toll for
Hanson. They didn't even think about him. No one thought about him first...
except...

Zac looked around, "Where's Reid?"

Taylor looked up, "I don't know. I thought he was in here."

A much more severe rush of panic filled Zac, "Where is he?!"

Zac jumped to his feet and hurriedly tried to contort himself into a pair
of pants. After a few frustrated and frantic grunts, Zac went limp and
hoped Taylor would understand the non-verbal need for assistance.
Thankfully, Tay did and helped Zac pull up the pants. In a flash, Zac was
out the door of the bedroom and down the stairs, looking in every room,
but not finding anything. His stomach felt sour and he tried to force down
the hysteria that was gripping him.

His bare feet slid on the wooden floor as he went into the living room.
His parents were there and so was the band's agent... but it wasn't like he
really cared. Zac tried to catch his breath as he leaned against the back
of the couch, his cheeks flushed and his chest feeling it a weight had
been set on it in the intense heat. Somehow, he felt a hand on his
forehead and he knew it was dad. He gulped for air and tried to talk, his
head feeling light and the room looking dark and he knew he'd strained
himself running so much in such hot weather after waking up.

"Where's Reid?" He gasped.

"He's the last thing we need to worry about." Zac assumed it was Chris but
he didn't care.

"Where is he?!" He growled and stood up.

"Zac... where could they have seen you?" It was mom.

"I don't know! I want to know where Reid is!"

He felt dad gently help him sit down and then he said, "Zac, we don't know
where Reid is."

"What?!" Zac jerked and tried to stand up but dad wouldn't let him, "What
do you mean?"

"We haven't seen Reid since last night. He isn't here."

A swaying, dizzying alarm coated Zac and he felt a rushing flood of nausea
hit his stomach. The blood went from his face and he pitched forward,
vomiting all over the rug in front of him. The comprehension of what could
have happened was unbearable. There was no way he could do this and stay
sane without Reid. There wasn't any way that he could handle being outed
if Reid wasn't here to help him.

Something was laying him back onto the couch, but he couldn't tell what it
was. He could, however, feel the nasty cold sweat trickle down his
forehead and the rush of everything sent him into a terrified shock. The
whole thing with his hands, and now that people knew, and they knew about
his hands... and Reid wasn't there. Why wasn't Reid there? Hot tears fell
down his cheeks and he tried to get up but he felt himself held down, he
heard mom and Taylor shouting... and he worried...

*      *      *      *      *

Flight 104 to Seattle is due for boarding at 9:30 at gate JR...

You're doing the right thing, I told myself. You're leaving but you're
leaving for a good reason. You're leaving before you mess up the lives of
innocent people any further and you're not going to ruin any more careers.
This is for the best, Reid. You're not leaving him because you're a
coward... you're leaving him because it's the best thing for him. I felt my
eyes burn and I braced my feet against the floor, trying to justify
myself. My hands shook and the airplane ticket nearly fell out of my hand.

It had taken every cent of money I had available to me. All the money that
I'd saved and gotten as handouts on the tour had gone towards buying my
plane ticket home. I sure wasn't taking anything with me. All I had was
the T-shirt, faded blue pants, and sandals... and my ticket. It was all I
had. I'd be going home to uncertainty and leaving the love of my live. But
don't think about that! It's not about you! It's about Zac! It's about
what's best for him! Everything in my heart kept telling me, however, that
this was the most asinine thing I'd ever done.

You're gonna leave because of this? My conscience kept shouting at me.
You're gonna leave because of this. You're going to leave Zac when he
needs you the most because you don't have the balls to face being outed.
Or at least because you don't have the balls to stand by someone close to
you who is being outed. It's not like you matter. You don't matter to the
people who are going to show these pictures they supposedly have and are
going to show. You're just... the other man.

"WHAT!?" My head jerked up and I saw a nervous looking flight attendant
standing in front of me.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just wondering if you're all right."

"I'm fine!" I calmed myself and repeated, "I'm fine. I've just had a very
trying past couple days."

She seemed to relax, "Oh, all right. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"No, you don't." I said and got up, walking away from her and not thinking
about what she'd asked.

The airport wasn't all that busy, and in the heat of the day, it was air
conditioned, dim, and coolly pleasant. I walked down the terminal in the
general direction of the boarding gate, trying to ignore anything that
would remind of the past six months. My head felt light and my heart ached
as I knew there were tears coming but I knew I had to force them down. All
I had to do was get on the damn airplane and everything would get easier.
Everything will be OK. As I walked, it got harder to ignore the stares of
occasional passersby in the terminal, and I told myself that the unkempt,
non-commuter look I was sporting had everything to do with it.

	I passed a gift shop and heard the radio... "I wondered if I'll ever see
you again... and if that day comes..."

I ran my hands through my hair, clenching my jaw and blinking my eyes,
trying to shut out the painful emotions that refused to go away. There was
a constant bombardment of sentimental images in the terminal as I walked.
I saw a mother with her newborn baby, several paintings of Italian-style
star crossed lovers, an occasional family going on summer vacation. It was
all getting to be too much. My eyes burned and I had to duck into the
men's restroom, plowing past a neatly dressed businessman into one of the
stalls and I hurriedly locked the door behind me.

A swell of queasiness hurried up from deep inside me and I barely had time
to get over the toilet before I was puking into the bowl. It was sour and
acidic and I could taste the stress and sadness as it rifled out of my
stomach. There wasn't much actual heaved material but what actually came
out burnt my throat and drew a sour line of repulsion down the center of
my tongue. It felt like someone was running a jackhammer inside my head as
I spat and hacked into the toilet. There was nothing holding the tears
back as I cried, my body shuddering in a kneeling heap on the floor of the
airport bathroom.

 Slowly but surely, I stood up and flushed the toilet before walking out
and standing over the sink, splashing cold water on my perspiring face. I
rinsed my mouth out and rubbed more water over my face and then I looked
into the mirror. My eyes were puffy and swollen, my cheeks were flushed
and splotchy, and the rest of my face around my cheeks looked pale and
bloodless. I exhaled and my shoulders wilted, the immense shame returning
me and making me feel like shit. My hands gripped the sides of the sink
and in the tinny glare of the light, my eyes shut tightly, trying to block
everything out.

My eyes opened and traveled down to my watch... 9:21 in the morning. It was
9:21am when I met Zac back at the hotel in Seattle and he had kissed me
for the first time. It was 9:21 in the morning when I woke up and saw
Zac's fingers clinging to my shirt like a baby animal the morning after
our first time together. It was 9:21 in the morning when they had told us
that Zac would need an operation. I was born at 9:21 in the morning. I
guess you could say it was an important time for me.

I released the sink and walked out of the bathroom, inhaling deeply and
making sure my airplane ticket was still in my pocket. With a renewed
determination, I strode through the terminal and through the metal
detector, not setting anything off and not stopping at all. Everything was
blocked out in my mind as I walked, a look of stoic grit on my face,
gritting against pain. Every step send new shards of emotional agony to my
soul but I blocked them out, walking briskly, making a point not to notice
my surroundings. Any notice taken of my surroundings would cause further
possible regret. If I regretted myself enough, there was the possibility
that I wouldn't leave.

As I stode down the walkway, my mind recited the words to a familiar song...
Please don't go... don't you hear me, baby... don't leave me now... Don't go... I
want you to know... that I love you so... I'm beggin' you to stay.... It
wouldn't stop cycling through my head as I remembered the song, not the
crappy dance versions but the beautiful soul rendition that sounded so
pleading. It bounced off my skull and I felt the lump return to my throat
and I swallowed hard, trying to force it back down. All I could do was
focus my attention on getting out and getting away before I could cause
any more damage.

Soon, the Alaska Airlines terminal came into view and I felt a little gust
of relief. I sped to a jog and hurried up to the ticket counter, where it
said the flight was right on time. I closed my eyes and said a silent
prayer, thanking whoever was in charge for affording me that small luxury.
After thanking the woman behind the counter, I turned and walked over to
the seating area. My system relaxing and preparing for a restful wait in a
nice, cheaply upholstered airport chair.

Then I saw Taylor.

He was sitting in the first row, legs crossed like the gentleman he is,
looking at me with an uninviting stare of seriousness. I looked down at my
feet before looking up and his icy blue eyes seemed to penetrate me to my
soul. His look was making me falter and I tried to find something else to
focus on. My eyes tried to take in the sight of him wearing a tank top but
it didn't work. His cold glare wouldn't release me and I knew that if I
was going to leave, I'd have to go through him.

"Where are you going?" His tone was sharp but disconcertingly calm.

"I'm doing what's best for you and your family."

His glare turned to a look of bitter amusement, "So you think leaving is
the best thing?"

"Yes. Because of me, you guys will never get the respect you deserve... or
something, I'm not in the clearest frame of mind right now." I said and I
was proud of the rocksteady tone of my own voice.

"I'm not going to stop you, Reid," He uncrossed his legs and leaned
forward, "I am going to let you know, however, that if you come with me
right now, we can go get in my car and go back home and pretend this never
happened."

"Don't you think I want to do that?! As long as it was hidden, Zac and I
were OK. But now everyone is going to know and they're going to
discriminate against you and it's my fault! It's my fault and I'll have to
live with that. Not only will Zac have to do without his hands, he'll also
be outed."

"Don't you think I want to forget about his hands?! All the times that he
said his hands hurt and I told him to suck it up and keep playing, that
all added up. I do know how you feel, Reid. I'm carrying around my share
of guilt concerning Zac and it's something that I'm going to have to live
with too!"

I rubbed my eyes with the bottoms of my hands, "Look... it's different."

"How? How is it different, Reid?"

"It's different because if I leave, it will keep things from getting
worse."

Taylor sat back and looked at me, "How will breaking his heart keep things
from getting worse?"

His words were fail-safe. I think we both knew that he had won the
argument but he had the class to keep from rubbing it in. I shrugged and
grinned with an almost manic helplessness, it was my "frustrated Tom
Cruise" look. I still searched for some way to contradict him but I only
stumbled over my words. He was right. Everything he had said was right but
I still hung on to my argument.

"I've known Zac for longer than you," He got up and walked over in front
of me, where he stood with his arms crossed, "And I know that from
everything he has said about you and from the way he looks at you, that
you're worth coming out of the closet for. But if you want to get on that
plane and break his heart and make him endure the shame of having me or
mom or Ike or dad have to help him when he has no problem with you doing
it, then you go. If you honestly think that walking away is how you're
going to help Zac, then maybe you should leave because I don't want
someone like that around my little brother."

I smiled wearily and held out my hands and shrugged, "I spent... four
hundred GOD DAMNED DOLLARS on my plane ticket! Non-refundable! And I'm
giving up those $400 to wipe the ass of your 15 year old, chubby, long
haired, bee stung lipped, big assed, Twinky eating, gas passing, million
time Matrix on DVD watching, probably will be taller than me sooner than I
think, little brother!"

Taylor smiled and draped his arm around my shoulders and we walked towards
the exit to the parking garage. He said consolingly, "Hey, think of it
this way... when you wake up on a freezing January in Oklahoma morn, you'll
have him to snuggle up to and feel snuggle up right back. Does that sound
so bad?"

"No," I was forced to admit, "It doesn't sound bad at all."

*      *      *      *      *

The ride back from the airport was quiet. Unsurprisingly, Taylor and I
didn't say much to each other but I knew that he was reassured. I honestly
think that he believed with everything he had that I would be coming back
with him. And I knew it too. There really wasn't any way I could get up
and walk away from Zac. He had brought me so much joy and innerpeace that
there was no way I could leave him. We both knew that I had it way too
damn good with Zac. During the car ride, I slept at some points before we
arrived back at the house and I tried to do a quick fixup of myself.

"You want a minute?" Taylor asked as he pulled out the key and unbuckled
his seat belt.

"No," I said after a second of though, "No, I don't."

I stepped out of the car and into the cool dark garage, feeling the
slightly musty air on my skin. I shook my head one last time and walked up
the small stairs and into the hallway of the house. All was quiet inside
and it made me feel relieved. There was no screaming and no piano wire for
me to trip and send a huge hacksaw blade right into my chest. Taylor
followed me in and gave me a joking push as he went into the kitchen, he
wasn't really impressed with my trepidation.

Keeping a slow pace down the hall, I looked into the living room. Nothing
was out of place save for a few paper towels stuck to the floor. Whatever
had happened there would stay a mystery to me. When one of the younger
ones, the littlest brother, came tearing by me, it nearly gave me a heart
attack. It was a jolt, I needed however. The room was quiet as I craned my
neck around, trying to see where Zac was.

"Hi there."

I nearly jumped a foot in the air and turned around to see Diana standing
in the door of the kitchen. She was looking at me, expressionlessly.
Non-verbal intimidation was a specialty in this family, obviously. She
didn't look all that threatening but I knew that her stare could turn very
volatile very quickly. My throat felt dry as I looked for something
suitable to say. She knew what I had almost done and her look made me feel
about an inch tall.

"Hi..." I said. It wasn't much but it was a start.

"Where were you?"

"I was out and... I got scared. But I knew that the best way to take care of
that fear would be to come back here because it's the most stable place I
know. I almost made a mistake where I went but I was helped to realize
that fixing that mistake would only make the bigger problem worse. So if
I'm still welcome here, I want to stay."

She walked into the living room and sat down, motioning for me to do the
same, which I did.

"Reid, when Zac first told me about you, I wasn't too pleased. I thought
he was too young to be having sex and even then, I thought you were too
old to be having sex with him. After seeing you take care of him and
seeing how much he trusts you, I realize that age is only secondary. When
Zac first told me he was gay, I convinced myself that it was a phase but
now I know that his feelings for you are real. Now I know that your
feelings for him are real."

I fidgeted, "Do you think it's my fault?"

She smiled, "It was going to happen. Zac isn't the kind of person that
can't go too long before needing to be himself. I worried about him before
he had this problem with his hands and now that apparently, people will
know he's gay, it's going to be even more. I also know that there could
have been many other people who wouldn't have had the courage to stay and
help him, let alone come back when everything was suggesting that you
should leave. I know that you're the best person for Zac and not only are
you wanted here tremendously, you're needed here."

"Where is he?"

"He's in his room. When he woke up and you weren't here, everything came
crashing down on him. The stress of it all made him sick," She noticed my
worried look, "He'll be OK. I think that it's starting to sink in."

I rubbed my forehead with my knuckle, "I don't know what to do."

Diana smiled, "Do what comes natural. That's been working real well so
far."

*      *      *      *      *

Access Hollywood would be airing at 5:30 in the afternoon. They were
playing it real close to the vest, making everyone wonder what exactly
they had in terms of pictures. They just wanted to boost the ratings and
give them some extra press as the only show that had the possible evidence
to back up the claim. Apparently they had won a sizable bidding war with
the photographer, beating out shows like Entertainment Tonight, Extra, and
even the E! Network for the broadcast rights to the pictures. They were
trying to position themselves as the next "big boy" in TV tabloid viewing.
Just the thought of Pat O'Brien snickering as they showed pictures of one
of our private moments made me flush with anger.

When Diana had released me, I went upstairs quietly and found Zac sleeping
serenely in his bed. I had smiled out of pure reflex before lying down
next to him and lightly kissing his forehead and cheeks, again wondering
why the hell I'd even considered leaving. When I'd pressed my body against
him, Zac had smiled and made an adorable cooing noise in his sleep, like a
little pigeon. I continued to kiss him all over his face, covering his
cheeks, forehead, chin, nose, and closed eyelids with my soft smooching. I
brushed my feet against the one of this that was sticking out from under
the comforter he'd cocooned himself in, pressing it up against the bottom
of his foot.

The blanket loosened and one of his hands flopped out onto the mattress
and laid against the light blue of his cover sheet. I traced my finger
over his stitches and felt the rough ridges that held his hands together.
My fingers slowly tracked up onto his forearm and I lovingly traced my
fingertip over the short blond hairs, watching as his skin remained pale
and then became tan again after the slightly pressure had gone. Zac's skin
was decorated with goosebumps after I leaned in and blew my soft, warm
breath over the exposed skin of his shoulders and the top of his chest. He
was wearing a black tanktop and it didn't make any sense was to why the
kid just didn't go shirtless.

I smiled and lurched the bed with my hip, causing Zac to shift and his
head to loll forward slightly. The movement woke him up and after several
squinting blinks, he saw me and smiled. It was a beautiful, genuine smile.
A little happy noise came from him as he squirmed over and wrapped his
arms around me, holding me tight and I did the same. At that moment, I
fought with whether or not to tell him the truth about what I had almost
done. When I felt him giggle happily in my ear, I decided not to tell him.
The moment was so special that I didn't want to ruin it... and I didn't want
to look like a total punk to m'lady.

Zac leaned back and smiled, his lips only about two centimeters away from
mine, "Where'd you go?"

"I went out to think."

"Did you?" He asked innocently, nibbling on my lower lip.

"Yes," I kissed him back.

"I saw a shooting star."

I smiled and recalled our little saying, "Really?"

"Yup."

"Did you make a wish?" I asked and prepared myself for the warm rush that
always came.

"I didn't need to. You already came true.

Epilogue:

	Later that day, Access Hollywood hit the airwaves and promoted a
"possible music industry sex scandal" when in reality, they were
reluctantly forced to present pictures only showing Zac sitting on a
balcony with "an unidentified male friend". The theory that it was a
sexual relationship was shot down immediately and an apology was issued to
the Hanson family on behalf of the studio. Not too long after, he was
rumored to be dating Nick Carter's younger sister before they "broke up
and stayed good friends". In the weeks that followed the operation, Zac
was sent over 700,000 letters of support and cards from loyal fans that
only cared about his safety.

Many of the letters contained thoughts reassuring that no matter who
played the drums for Hanson, the fans expected to see Zac on tour with the
band and involved with all further projects. Hanson was then signed to a
contract extension by Island Def Jam Records and got set to record a new
album with full support from the label. The day after the new contract was
signed, The Backstreet Boys released their fourth album in as many months
and N'Sync released a four album box set of new music. Both projects were
immediately panned by critics and overnight, the once powerful boyband
juggernaut had become nothing more than a punchline. They never recovered.

On September 10th, four months to the day after his surgery, at 2:57 in
the afternoon, Zac found that he was able to curl his right index finger.
After a consultation with Dr. James Bailey, Zac went in for surgery the
next morning to have the tendons fused together and reattached. When he
woke up after the surgery, within two hours, Zac was able to function at a
level close to before the first operation, hindered only slightly by minor
muscular deterioration. Within in a week of the second operation, Zac had
regained 95% use of his left hand and 87% use of his right hand. Two
months later, Hanson was in the studio recording their new album.

Five months after that, Hanson's new album entitled "We Are Here" went
platinum within a week. It won six Grammy awards and forced the music
industry through its sheer popularity to recognize Hanson's status as the
new top musical act in the entertainment industry. The subsequent tour
later raised over $60,000,000 in total profits before Hanson announced
they would take time off and vacation in the Caribbean with their
"personal assistant" named Mr. Cameron, about whom not much was ever
known.

Then on October 22nd, 2002 on his 17th birthday during an appearance on
MTV's popular musical countdown show, Total Request Live, Zac very
casually dropped into the conversation how nice a recent move had been,
made even nicer that he'd seen it with "his boyfriend". After several
seconds of silence, the crowd below in Times Square and several of the
members of the studio audience applauded. Until Zac groaned at them to
stop and pretended to melt at their applause, which quieted them down
quite suitably.

Access Hollywood then tried to redeem is damaged image by saying, "I told
you so", but no one cared.

THE END