NOTES AND DISCLAIMERS: So made up, for entertainment only. Entertaining lies about famous people I don't know from Adam. A sideways inspiration from Cry Me A River, the one by JRT, and Mr. Adams of NRBQ. Free Man In Paris is a song by Joni Mitchell about David Geffen. Middlemarch is by George Eliot. Chris sings "Surprise" by the Sundays. Songs quoted are "Perfect From The Start" by Jeremy Toback, "Near Wild Heaven" by REM, "Get You In" by Better Than Ezra and "Easy People" by the Nields, respectively. Thanks to G, Younger and Katie for their help in the first draft writing. Thanks to Katie, Kel, Younger and Missy for very very helpful betas.
2. MAN
And I always thought that it would make me smarter
But it's only made me harder
My heart thrown open wide - Mike Mills
Justin calls Daisy two months after the tour ends. He says, "Hey, how are you?"
"Oh, I'm good. I was glad to hear about your mother, I'm so glad she's doing well. You're not calling because you need a criminal attorney, right?"
"No, God." Justin laughs. "I was calling, see. I'm about to start on my new album, and we're going to be recording in Atlanta and I thought, well, it'd be really nice to see you. If you wanted. If you don't have, you know."
"A boyfriend?" She laughs, sweet and nice. "I don't. Are you asking me out?"
"I am, in fact, asking you out. For like, two weeks from now when I actually get to Atlanta."
"Oh, oh." She pauses. "That would be wonderful. I would definitely love to, Justin."
"I can't wait, Daisy." Justin grins. "Is it okay if I call you that?"
"It's wonderful." She laughs again.
*
Lance glares at the sun and takes off his glasses. He opens his bag and puts on his sunglasses, one hand on the wheel. He looks sleek, like an ad in a men's magazine. GQ, maybe. "Look, here's the thing, J, we've only got some of the producers lined up, you've only written half of the songs. I'm gonna book some time in LA, okay?"
Justin leans back in the convertible and feels the sun on his throat. So very nice. "Totally. But we'll see, you know? Things'll flow."
Lance sighs. "Sorry I was late this morning picking you up. JC went on for a few hours about how great Julie the actress is, how much he really likes her, maybe even loves her. Talked my ear off. Did you hear from Joey?"
"Joey? What?" Justin sits up.
"He got that movie part, it's really good, you know? He's the second lead for once. So that's nice. And he and Kelly are back on, but that sounds not so stable."
"It always sounds not so stable. I mean, four weeks tops where those two had it really good." Justin is pretty in love with Atlanta right now. Bright and sunny. Humid, humid as fuck, but Justin likes that. He's sweating and he can feel the beads on his forehead and his shirt sticking to his back and the seat. He feels alive. Lance looks like an ad for cologne and Justin probably looks like a greasy frat boy. It doesn't bother him at all.
"Isn't that the way, you know? Love sucks." Lance pulls into a McDonald's drive through. He calls out his order and looks over at Justin. Justin just shakes his head. Then he asks Lance to get him a Coke.
After Lance gets his food, Justin says, "Love doesn't suck. Love is hard. I think there's a difference."
"Yeah, whatever. Three dates with lawyer girl and you're all up on the concept." Lance grins. "I like her."
"She's nice, isn't she?"
"You should make sure to get photographed with her a lot." Lance smirks.
"Because she's a foot shorter than me?" Justin pauses. "Yes, I get it." There were a lot of guys on the last tour, before Justin's mom got sick. Justin's usual bounce back from a relationship gone bad, lots of one-night stands with very discreet, hot, gay men. He adopted that strategy two, three years ago, when he decided romance didn't really exist anymore. Lance would have heard from Chris about Justin's nights out, so Justin can't pretend otherwise. So he does get it.
*
What worries Justin is that he doesn't have a favorite song on the album yet. Nothing quite gels in that way in his head. The songs are good, he knows that. He loves working on them, but it doesn't make his head fizzy. He feels like there's something just beyond his reach. He calls JC. "See, you know what I mean?"
"It's not quite there."
"Yeah, and it's not that the songs are bad. I think, I really think what we've done so far is great. It's just. I think there's something in my head and I can't quite translate it. Like I can't do it yet. You know?"
JC hums. "I do know. It's like, waiting and waiting to get taller or something, man."
"I got, I need to pull up on my bootstraps or something."
"See, it's like, you can't count on producers for that except sometimes. But mostly, it's all you. It's in you. And it's fucking, it's crazy, man, sometimes you have to just sit, sometimes you have to let it percolate, sometimes you have to force it and push it. And no one can help you. That's all I know, for sure." JC laughs. "Fuck, I don't even know that I know that."
"You sound pretty happy, man." Justin's sitting in his condo, the one Lance has him staying in. He has a balcony and he can sit outside. Today it's raining, so Justin sits on his couch.
"I am. I am. Man, I wanted to tell you in person, but I can't wait. I really. I can't." JC laughs again. "Fuck, don't tell Lance, because I want to tell him, but. Julie's pregnant."
"No fucking way! Man, wow. Congratulations, wow." Justin stands up and almost pumps his fist. "Fucking amazing. That's awesome. You, you have to call Lance right now. He's on his way over and I'm not going to be able to not tell him."
JC's laughing still. "I will. Right now. It's just, you know, she's only, uh, ten weeks along, we were gonna wait, you know?"
Justin's always thought that was a little fucked up. He'd want to know because if something bad happens, he could be there for his friends. But there's no way he'd say that to JC right now. So he just says, "I'm hanging up. You call Lance right now. Congratulations, man, you're, you're gonna be a great father, man."
JC says, "Thanks. Okay, yeah, hanging up now." Justin does a little dance around his condo. It's really exciting. He wants to call his mom, but he decides to wait. It's not fair for his mom to know before Lance. Justin flops down on his couch and counts. Trace has two kids now, Joey has Briahna, and now JC. So Justin's going to be an even busier honorary uncle.
*
Justin tries to explain the favorite song thing to Lance and it's just frustrating. A lot of things about Lance the manager are frustrating. Justin's used to being told what to do, to agreeing and only occasionally putting up a fuss. But Lance isn't Johnny or Justin's mother. Lance is only two years older than Justin and has three, four years less experience working than Justin. So they argue. Justin objects all the time. Lance is right most of the time, or Justin agrees with him in the end, but Justin wants to know that Lance is sure. He trusts Lance; he just doesn't always think Lance is right.
Lance frowns and plays with his napkin and looks confused. "Do you want different producers for the tracks we've done so far?"
Justin shakes his head. "No, no, they're fine. They're really fine. It's just, you know, the ones I haven't done yet."
Lance rips up the napkin. "Okay. So what can we do there? Maybe, um, do those in LA? Have JC stop by?" Lance grins. "He already has three baby name books. Do you believe that?"
"It's really cool, man. I mean, him and Julie seem really happy. Also, fuck, that's gonna be one very attractive child. You know?"
Lance laughs. "Yeah, cheekbones to kill for." Lance fidgets again. "So, LA?"
"Maybe. I don't know. It's not, Lance, it's not bothering me. I'm not lying awake at night going, MAN! It's just, striving. This album feels weird to me. Good, but I keep thinking the next one, it's gonna be so much better. It's like, it feels like all new. I feel almost inept. If that makes sense."
Lance looks down. "Not particularly. I guess, okay, tell me what you need."
"A new brain." Justin laughs. "Man, don't worry about it."
Lance sighs. "Okay. You know, why don't we look at some new producers? Somebody different, you know? Up and comers."
Justin nods. "Cool, like, they've done nothing. Maybe two songs. So they're hungry. You line 'em up and I'll talk to 'em in LA. We should totally do that."
Lance finally smiles. Justin gets it, all of a sudden, how happy Lance is to solve things. To make them right. Lance's smile is like sunshine, a real smile at last. So Justin leans forward and says, "I think that's just about perfect."
*
Daisy's apartment is dusty. She really needs a maid, or time to clean. She's in the shower and Justin is wandering around, poking at things. She's pretty special. Dating for six weeks, sleeping together for five. But he's taking it casual. She's already met his mother, but he hasn't brought her home all official for the seal of approval. He's mentioned to his mother he's seeing Daisy, but he hasn't said much more. There isn't that much more.
Trace said something about thinking she had a great rack when he saw her on TV for Lance's stuff, which is true and crude, so right on the mark for Trace.
He looks at her CDs and tries not to flinch. They're completely disorganized. They're just there, willy nilly. She has JC's solo CDs, one NSYNC and nothing of Justin's, which is sort of funny.
Justin finds his cell phone on the kitchen table and calls Chris. It's his life in a nutshell, doing things, calling his mom, Chris, JC, Joey and Trace and telling them about it. When he was around them all the time, maybe he got more done because he didn't have tell them about it. He only calls his mother every other day. And it's not weird, it doesn't feel weird. It feels weird that it's not weird. Justin sighs and Chris finally picks up.
"How you doing?"
"I'm fine, Mr. Tribbiani." Chris snorts. "Get some new material."
"I love Friends, man."
"I love it, too, but they did ten seasons, let it rest. Granted, it lives on in syndication and in your obsessive DVD collection, but." Chris pauses. "Okay, what are you getting JC for his birthday? It's, like, in a month, I know, but I don't want to duplicate."
"I wish he'd register somewhere, man, he's hard to buy for." Justin resists the urge to organize Daisy's CDs. That would be wrong. Maybe there's some method in her madness.
"Well, I keep thinking, you know, books about being a dad. But that seems played out, you know. Like everyone's going to do that."
"Plus, you know, thirty-one just isn't one of those birthdays." Justin listens for the shower, hears it. "So I'm at Daisy's."
"Ah, you want me to ask you about that, don't you?" Chris giggles. "How's the red hot lawyer?"
"Good, it's good."
"Well, good for you." Chris pauses and smacks his lips. "You know, I'm sleeping with someone, these days."
"Yeah? Who? Tell me more." The shower stops.
"Nothing to tell. It's nothing. It's sex, it's a guy. I can't complain. We have things to talk about, I like that. Don't need it, but I like it." Daisy walks out, drying her hair.
Justin says his goodbyes and closes his phone. He pulls Daisy onto his lap and kisses her. "How are you?"
"Clean!" She giggles. "When do you leave for LA?"
"Three days. You can come visit, right?" He wants her to visit. If he'd had longer to talk to Chris he would have said something about how it's casual. He likes casual. He's surprised by it.
She wraps her wet towel around his head. "Maybe. Probably."
*
They finish up in Atlanta. It's been hot and beautiful and Justin thinks he'll buy a house there someday. Maybe. He feels weird. Unsettled. It's not missing Daisy, though that's what his mother thinks. Things are so good and he just can't place the itch underneath his skin that makes him keep looking around and checking over his shoulder.
Lance has six producers lined up for LA; two Justin knows he'll use, four he needs to talk to. Lance went a little nuts, in Justin's estimation, about the whole producer thing, but it's interesting, the list he has.
The first producer is an ass. Justin sits across from him and thinks about gouging out his eyes after five minutes. Maybe he'd use the kid's labret to do it. Brad, his name is Brad, starts talking about all the exciting things Justin can do, something that's fresh and not pop and it's all so condescending and choked with superiority. Brad never out and out says it, but he talks about the songs Justin's done that he likes, and every one is "too much stuff on it." Justin smiles a lot and thinks he'll never ever work with someone like this. Justin picks up the check and after Brad leaves, he calls Lance. "Wow, I really hated that one. A lot."
"Sorry. He had an interesting resume, you know? He was an engineer for Coldplay."
"He had that whole indie-r than thou thing, that 'oh, you've wandered astray from the heart and soul of music with your sinful urges to make songs that gets played on the radio.' I don't need no fucking prophets and I'm not ashamed of making popular music." Justin rubs his forehead. "But, you know, not your fault and shit. Don't beat me up or anything, okay?"
Lance snorts and hangs up.
The second one is the same as the first. Justin finally just says, "I like to make music that gets heard on the radio. I don't think that's a bad thing."
The guy blinks and says, "Yeah, of course not, but. There's like, these amazing things that you can do when you lose that inhibition." Justin frowns.
The third one is a girl, really a girl, only about twenty-two. Justin remembers being twenty-two and he remembers when it seemed old. But she grins and leans forward and says she loves, "Gone, loved Gone and Cry Me A River and that one." She laughs a lot more than the first two, as well. She's never done anything on her own, just done engineering and she's very excited. Justin really likes that.
The fourth one is a little condescending and a little excited. Justin tells Lance to book the girl, Sally. Lance says, "So I found one you liked?"
"Absolutely. Good on you." Lance just says goodbye.
*
Sally is really easy to work with. Justin was worried that she'd be a pushover but she stands up for herself after a few minutes. Good adapting skills. She reminds him of his mother, only from Chicago and not Southern at all. He has half a melody and all these lyrics and he thinks it could be good. Sally wants to start simple and she asks good questions and it's a little wisp of a song after a few hours. Justin feels good about the next day, he really does.
He gets back to his house and finds Lance on the couch, reading another book. "You're still reading, huh?"
Lance looks up with a blank face. "Yes, it's like falling off a bicycle, you know, you never forget how."
"I just mean, you know. I thought it was some break-up dealing thing."
Lance frowns. "Yeah, well, it's not. You do anything for a hundred days and it's a habit. I'm in the habit." Lance puts his book down. "You have that party tonight. Wanna get something to eat first?"
Justin nods. "Coolio. Let me just get dressed."
Justin comes down in his stylish outfit and his glasses. Lance says, "Why are you wearing your glasses?"
"My contacts are annoying." Justin flops down on the couch. "Are you gonna bitch at me about this? Because if so, let's order pizza."
"Look, you know what? This is my job. My actual job that you pay me to do. There'll be cameras, and photographers and this is the sort of thing you should think about. I know it's minor, but. You look better without your glasses." Lance stands up and grabs his cell phone. He orders pizza and Justin fiddles with his glasses.
"Done?" Lance nods. Justin says, "You wear your glasses all the time these days. All the fucking time."
"I'm not you." Lance glares.
"You look better in your glasses or you're just not Justin Timberlake?"
"Both. Come on, don't be stupid. You know what I mean. You have a look and shit like that, and the glasses don't work," Lance says.
"Give me a break. They look fine. The contacts are annoying me, I just want. Is it so bad if I look older or smarter or whatever?"
"First, you don't. And I'm not saying that to be mean, but if you're shooting for that, you need better glasses --"
"So I run out to Ralph Lauren or wherever you got yours, it'd be okay?" Justin stands up and looks out the window. He wants pizza. He wants Lance to shut up.
"It'd be a good idea. But more than that, Justin, it's just." Lance stops. Justin turns around and Lance is rubbing his forehead. Lance says, "Fine, whatever, do what you want." He picks up his book and starts reading again.
The pizza comes and Lance seems to calm down or be less pissy at least. Maybe he learned something in his anger management class about fights worth having and Justin knows this isn't one of those. Lance even makes a joke or two. Justin brushes his teeth after eating and looks at his glasses. They're really not that bad. But Lance probably has a point about upgrading them before the public debut. He puts in his contacts. He blinks and thinks he's letting Lance win which is fairly annoying. He leaves them in.
*
He and Sally finish the song. It's really good, it's his favorite. Simple and clear, and even radio-friendly. Sally squeals and claps her hands when it's done. The engineer laughs at her and she calls him a fuckhead. It's a good day. Justin goes to the Beverly Center for new glasses after they're done.
Lance comes over for dinner and Justin is still cooking when he walks in the door. "Yo, yo."
Lance says, "You bought new glasses."
"I did, I did. Ralph Lauren, in fact. He makes nice ones. You like 'em?"
Lance sits down at the kitchen table. "Okay, we need to talk."
"About my glasses?" Justin stirs the pasta.
"No, us. This." Lance sighs and rubs his forehead again. Justin is getting really sick of that gesture. It makes Lance look old. He doesn't remember it from when Lance was seventeen or twenty-four. Justin wonders if Lance is counting to twenty, working on containing himself. Lance says, "I mean, I'm supposed to be your manager, not this person that you argue with and disagree with and try to show up or something."
Justin looks down at the bubbling water. "Yeah, I agree with that."
"So, what are we doing? Does this only work when you're miserable and you need someone to push you around?"
"No, no." Justin stirs and doesn't look up. "No, you're a good manager for me. Seriously."
"I haven't noticed that. You argue with me about everything, you're always pushing and pushing and I can't ever be right the first time and it's like, fuck, Justin, either you think I know what I'm doing and you need me or just do it yourself." Lance sounds tired which is a lot more scary than angry Lance. Even scary hitting Lance.
"It's not, dude. It's not like that. I guess. I guess I've been acting like that. But I don't mean it. I mean, I'm just. Okay, sorry." The pasta's done and Justin dumps it in the colander in the sink. He shakes it to get the water out.
"Okay. Just, okay. Justin, seriously, if you don't want me, just tell me. I mean, Johnny can't do everything but he can handle things now and we'll --"
"Okay, shut up now. I'm happy with you. I'm just --" Justin turns around and Lance is standing up, leaning against the counter. He really does look tired.
"Testing me? Sowing your oats? It's not, you know, pleasant to work with." Lance raises his eyebrows and doesn't smile.
"Right. Right. Point taken. I'm happy, I really am. I'll be less pushy and you can be less order-y."
"Order-y?"
"Look, it's a two way street. I'm an ass, you're an ass. We should both be less ass-y." Justin stirs the sauce and then grabs two plates. "Does that work?"
Lance licks his lips, and then sighs. "I don't, okay, you tell me. What's too order-y? I'm your manager."
Justin starts talking like Eeyore. "Don't wear those glasses, they make you look stupid. You shouldn't use that language in interviews. Blah, blah."
Lance says, "Was that an imitation of me? You were talking like Eeyore."
"You talk like that." Justin shrugs and grins. This isn't the best way to end an argument, but it's one he pretty sure will work. "Dinner's ready."
"I don't talk like that. Eeyore and I have nothing in common. We're not, there's nothing vaguely Eeyore-like about my speaking voice."
"It's pretty deep. Like that." Justin walks over to the table and puts the plates of pasta on the table. "Eeyore talks all low."
"I don't. I mean, yes, I have a low voice. I have an accent but I don't talk all slow and drugged." Lance smirks. "You're just avoiding the subject."
"Doing it pretty well, right?" Justin starts eating his pasta. It's good. "I mean, point taken, etc etc. You talk like a cartoon character, I'm an ass, we're good."
Lance rolls his eyes. "Do not." He looks five years younger and noticeably hotter than when he walked in the door, so Justin decides everything's okay again.
*
Daisy comes to LA twice in three weeks. She talks a lot about her cases and Justin listens. It's interesting. He talks about finishing the album and she seems to listen. Justin isn't completely sure, but he's not feeling paranoid. It's one more thing to chalk up in the weird column of things that he doesn't really care about. He still doesn't have much to say his mother when she asks about Daisy visiting. It just is. Daisy's fun to be with, she's pretty, she's good in bed.
JC comes by the studio three times. His album is done and he's knee-deep in promo. "Same stupid questions, man. Thank god nothing's leaked about the baby."
"But people know y'all are going out and they know she's pregnant, right?"
"I don't know, maybe people haven't put two and two together. She's on a soap, she's not incredibly famous." JC smiles. JC always smiles these days.
"So don't knock up Renee Zellweger and no one asks about it."
"I guess so. Or maybe just don't put out a press release."
Justin slaps his own forehead. "Now you tell me." Justin spins in his chair and watches the engineer get up and leave for coffee. "So, me and Lance had a fight a month ago."
"That's exciting news." JC sits down. "A month ago? If it's bothering you, why wait to bring it up?"
Justin shrugs. "I've just been thinking about it. You know, lately. Since then. He said something about me sowing my wild oats and pushing him and testing his limits."
JC nods. "Yes, people do that when they're resisting authority."
"You think I'm doing that?"
"How would I know? I don't see you two, you know, doing manager things." JC shrugs. "It wouldn't surprise me."
Justin turns back around. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just been bugging me. I don't, I'm pretty old to be sowing my wild oats or something. Also, I thought that involved more sex."
"You're never too old to realize you're getting old. And not old, but you know."
Justin says, "Well, that's heartening."
*
Howie comes to meet with Lance in person, prep for presentation they have to make to some prospective investors. Except Lance leaves a little early to talk to Jive, and Howie just opens his laptop and ignores Justin. Not that Justin minds, but he feels bad, like because it's his studio time or something, he needs to entertain Howie.
Justin sits down next to him and smiles. "Hey, so how are you?"
Howie says, "Fine. Sorry to be bothering your studio time here."
"No, it's good. We're recording, we're doing, you're not disturbing anything. Sorry Lance had to go."
"S'okay. It's not like he didn't talk to me before taking this job on." Howie sucks in his cheeks and squints at the screen.
Justin says, "So you don't miss him?"
Howie pushes the screen down and squints at Justin this time. "I don't, wait, you're not, uh, asking me about me and Lance, say? Right? We're just talking work stuff, right?"
Justin nods. "Yeah. God, yeah." Justin grins. "Though, okay, I assumed you and Lance had. You know, once or twice or something."
Howie shrugs and goes back to his laptop. "That's kinda rude."
Justin covers his face. "Okay, yes. I was hoping to rely on the secret fraternity of boy banders, you know, to cover that. Sorry."
"Apology accepted." Howie sighs. "When do you think we would have, anyway? Lance and I started this when he was already with Chris. And he wasn't cheating on Chris. They were, you know, actually pretty good together. And then when they broke up, he just kind of up and left town and now, you know, so."
"Now?" Justin thinks about standing up so he can see Howie's face. He wonders why Lance isn't available now.
"Now, it would be weird. Our relationship is set. We're business partners and friends. No complications. You know, sometimes you can't change things."
Justin nods again. He's not sure he agrees but he's very sure he's not going to encourage Howie to sleep with Lance or something. It could get serious and Justin's not sure why that's bad, but it definitely is. Justin gets up, says, "bye," and heads to the soundbooth.
*
Lance is talking about how much Jive likes the album, honestly likes it, while he wanders around Justin's living room bouncing a blue rubber ball on the floor. "They seemed really sincere. They want to do the third track as a single, the one with ?uestlove, and the 'oooh, oooh, ooh,'" Lance sings. He keeps singing the song for a minute, even the lyrics about wanting to be free and seeing the whole world.
Justin looks up from his video game and says, "I'm glad you like the song."
"Yeah, they want that one for the single, which, really I agree with. It's a good strong start." Lance sits down next to Justin, the blue ball in his hand. He squeezes it and Justin wonders if Lance got it from his anger management course. Justin wonders if he's a trigger for Lance's anger. It's a shitty thought. But the ball says 'Jive' so Lance picked it up at the record company and not back serving time.
Justin steers with the controller and watches his little car flying over the mountain. Lance says, "What are you playing?"
"Simpsons Road Rage. It's really cool." Justin drops off Bart and picks up Nelson. "Sounds great, man."
"Good. Cool." Lance stretches out on the floor. "Tired."
"Oh, it just gets worse from here, as you well know." Justin does a few tight turns and sails over Springfield dam. "Me and Daisy broke up, by the way."
Lance sits up. "Really? Are you okay?"
"Yeah. We weren't that serious. I mean, we went out for five months and she never even introduced me to her parents. She's really nice, it's just, she's pretty bound to Atlanta. And I'm not."
"Long distance relationships can work." Lance rubs Justin's shoulder.
"Yeah, but there has to be that spark, you know? Something along with just the distance." Justin pauses the game. "I'm seriously okay, I just wanted you to know as friend and manager." Justin starts the game again.
Lance pats Justin's shoulder and stretches back out on the floor. "Okay. I'm still sorry."
Justin keeps playing. Mostly he's thinking he needs to find a date for Joey's wedding. Joey came by a month ago to say that Kelly was pregnant again. And they'd set a date. Lance said, "Isn't the date just nine months after, you know, conception?"
Joey said, "No, dumbass, we're getting married. She finally said yes all the way and wants to get married. It's in a few months. She'll be big as a house, but hell, she'll be beautiful anyway." Then he looked at Lance and said, "Okay, Steve's gonna kick my ass, but. I was hoping you'd be the best man." Lance smiled and it was, really, the most beautiful Justin had ever seen Lance look.
Justin says, "So now it's really bothering me, because who am I gonna take to the wedding?"
Lance says, "Ha! Ford can't come, so I'm taking Stacey. I'd take my mom but she and Dad are already invited."
"Yeah, I could go with my mom. It's not exactly a first date kind of thing, you know?"
"It's not." Lance laughs. "You could ask Brit."
Justin pauses the game. "That is not a bad idea. She just broke up with her boyfriend, too."
"As your manager, I completely approve of that idea. I mean, that'll be worth one or two covers of 'are they back together,' and you can't beat that when the album's about to come out." Lance pauses. "Not that, you know, that should factor into your decision. Because, you know, if it'll be awkward or whatever."
"Well, it wouldn't be. You know, just friends, maybe if we have enough to drink and the wedding makes her cry, I can even get laid. But we're not getting back together, so." Justin starts the game again.
Lance is quiet for a little bit and Justin wonders if he's gone to sleep. Then he says, "I'm sorry about Daisy, I really did like her."
*
He has dinner with JC, Julie and Lance, but Lance is late. They've already sat down and ordered when he comes in. He's wearing his manager outfit, slacks and a button down shirt. He looks elegant, more of the GQ look Lance seems to have mastered. He sits down and says, "Sorry, that meeting ran long." He smiles over at Julie and says, "You look beautiful." Lance runs his hand through his hair and it sort of sticks up in the back. Justin likes it that way so he doesn't say anything.
Julie says, "Thank you."
JC grins. "See, because you are. None of this 'oh, I'm a beached whale.' You know you're beautiful. Like, you're not fat, not that fat people are always unattractive, and really, I don't know about that whole thing to begin with. But, pregnant women are always saying they're fat and they're not. They're pregnant and glowing."
Julie looks bemused. "What are you saying?"
"He loves you, he thinks you're fabulous." Lance waves to a waiter and orders his food.
Justin takes a piece of bread. "How's the big name debate going?"
JC and Julie both start laughing. "We've declared an armistice," Julie says. "The final decision will be made when the little kicker is born."
Lance says, "Have you narrowed it down at all?"
JC says, "Jillian or Josephine. And Julian or Jasper."
"Jasper Chasez?" Lance sputters.
Julie says, "Or Jasper Green. That's also up for consideration."
"Man, JC, you're all liberated and feminist." Justin grins.
JC starts to answer but the waiter brings their salads. Then a short woman steps up to the table and says, "I'm so sorry, but could I get your autograph?" She's saying it to Julie.
Justin leans back, grins and winks at Lance. Lance doesn't laugh, just barely. Julie is very polite and signs and the woman leaves. She doesn't even look at the three of them. Lance says, "See, that's devotion."
Julie says, "You'd think she'd recognize the three of you together. I mean, more than just one, say."
Lance says, "Once, this woman asked me for an autograph, and she's like, I loved you in that movie. With the posters. And I said thank you and she said, 'but have you ever done anything else? I thought you were really good in that movie.'"
JC says, "No way."
"Seriously! And I said, 'I was in that music group, you know, NSYNC, that took up a lot of my time.' This was, wow, a few years ago. Three, maybe four." Lance blushes.
"I don't believe that." Justin laughs.
"Swear to God. Chris was there, man, you can ask him."
Justin rolls his eyes. "I can't believe the only way someone would recognize you would be from On the Line."
"It's not a bad movie." Lance sticks his lower lip out.
"I saw it. It's not, sadly, a very good movie, either," Julie says.
"Hey, it could have been worse." Lance pushes his salad away from him.
Julie raises an eyebrow. "Nowadays they could just recognize you from the big fight video."
Lance flinches. "I think, you know, I have other things that people know me from than that."
She smiles. "Of course they do."
They talk about movies for a while and JC's new video. Julie gets up to go the bathroom. "Like I do quite often now."
Justin says, "She's great, man."
JC just nods and smiles.
Lance says, "I remember when you were married to music and the studio."
"Well, you know," JC says. "I said that once to Julie, when we first went out, and she said she wasn't anyone's mistress."
"She's really great," Lance says.
"It's like, man. It's not like I love those things any less. I'm like the Grinch, my heart grew two more sizes."
It's kind of ridiculous and incredibly sweet at the same time. Justin plays with his food and doesn't look up.
*
The first single does really well. Lance is happy, Justin is happy, Jive is happy. Justin is in New York and he likes New York. "Chris, you should visit," he says over the phone.
"Yeah, I think not."
"You're not still avoiding Lance, right? It's been more than a year."
"Oh, you're mister sensitive, aren't you? It has been more than a year, but it's not like we've talked." Chris sighs. "So, you know, still bitter over here." Justin doesn't say anything, but he thinks Lance is still bitter so they're a nice matched pair. Chris says, "Plus, you know, I stopped sleeping with that guy I was sleeping with."
"Oh, that sucks."
"Well, I can still get laid whenever I want what with being super-sexy and all, but I, you know, I was starting to like him." Chris refuses to come to New York. He's narrating and producing a documentary about Mario Lemieux, so he's in Pittsburgh for the next two months.
Justin loves New York, really. He feels free and there's so much to do. His mother comes up for one day and they go shopping and hang out. It's really nice. She doesn't want to stay longer, and he doesn't push her. Trace says he can't come, Brit's in Europe, Pharrell's still in Finland but Justin has other friends.
There's so much fun to be had. He says as much to Lance and Lance just gives him that look. "We, and specifically you, have a ton of things to do."
"Plan Joey's bachelor party?"
"Work, Justin." Lance goes back to his book.
"This whole exchange is becoming very cliché. I say 'fun!' You say 'work' and then ignore me to read your book. What are you reading now?" Justin tries to snatch it out of Lance's hands, but Lance stands up and moves to another chair in the room.
"I'm reading about baseball. That David Halberstam book. And it's a cliché because you think it's cool or funny or something to act like you're still twenty-one and there's four other guys to help with things and you don't have to do it all yourself." Lance turns a page.
"You're a bitter man, Lance."
"Pretty much." Lance wets his thumb and turns another page.
"What's up with that? You know this is fun. We have a really fun job." Justin crosses his legs and leans back on the bed.
"We don't have the same job anymore."
Justin sighs. "I'd hate to think you weren't having fun. I mean, you're rich without me. Aren't you having fun?"
Lance looks up. "Most of the time. But I'm not here to entertain you, you know."
"Well, I am here to entertain you." Justin grins. "Let's actually do something tonight."
"I do something every night." Lance sighs. "You think I'm very boring now, don't you?"
"No, not really. I'm very intrigued by all the changes in you, you know, you growing up or something. I still haven't figured out the book thing. But in terms of being fun to go out with, yep, pretty much, boring."
"Well, the book thing isn't that complex. Someone called me an uneducated idiot who didn't know anything and had never read a book. I decided to prove them wrong." Lance goes back to reading.
"Seriously? This obsession is all about some --" Justin pauses. Chris, it must be Chris. "It's not like he even knows. I mean, it seems like the kind of thing you could let go of. It might be good for you. He was probably just mad and saying things."
"Sure. I know that. But I like it. I like reading. I don't care if he knows or not." Lance closes his book and stands up again. "I do have plans for the evening, so I'm going to go do them. You have a radio interview tomorrow morning at seven am, I'll be here at six am, so don't stay out too late." Lance goes back to his room.
It sucks. Justin kicks at his bed and thinks about Chris. He's completely aware that Chris can say mean things in arguments. He's heard it all before. He guesses it's even more hurtful when Chris says them to his boyfriend. Justin decides there's nothing he can do. He can't make Chris better and he can't make Lance better. Justin sighs and gets dressed. He wishes he could, wishes he could think of something. He hates being powerless.
He goes out and resolves not to think about it. It's a slammin' night out. Good music, two great clubs. Even better, at the second one he runs into Nick Carter. They shout at each other in the VIP section, and then Nick grabs Justin's wrist and signals they should just go outside.
"You look great. This is late, man, but I was glad to hear about your mom." Nick smiles. The two of them are sitting in Nick's car. Not a limo, but an Escalade. It's pretty nice.
"Thanks." Justin pats Nick's knee. "And you, long time no hear, but good on you for all that. It's a really great album." Nick's just released his third solo album, the best Nick's done yet. Finally, a certified hit everywhere.
"Thanks. Well, we're caught up. Though, hey, Lance is your manager?" Nick laughs.
"He is. He's good."
"It would be weird, man, weird if, like, I dunno, Howie was my manager."
Justin laughs this time. "Howie, man, Howie. I see him all the time. Man, I wouldn't've hired Lance if he was my ex-boyfriend."
"Well, then I guess I know why Chris didn't." Nick snorts.
"Oh, you heard about that?" Justin told Nick when Lance and Chris got together, he thinks. He probably mentioned it back when they were fucking. They didn't really actually talk back then, just set up times to fuck. Then the tour was over and they stopped fucking and started actually talking once in a while.
"Yeah, I caught up with Chris. He's amazingly bitter." Nick laughs again. "I mean, not to diss him, but god, let's talk about something else."
Justin can't think of anything he wants to talk about so he leans over and kisses Nick on his wet pretty mouth. Nick rubs Justin's neck and bites at Justin's lower lip. "Okay," Nick says, "let's talk about whose room to go back to."
They decide on Justin's room. Nick's the same, strong and more graceful than Justin expects, kissing all the time and touching. Justin licks Nick's tattoos, Nick's thigh, his ankle, where the sweat beads on his skin. It's incredibly nice.
Lance wakes him up, wakes them both up. Justin opens his eyes as Lance says, "Hey, Nick, how are you?"
Nick mumbles something and rolls over, heavy against Justin. Justin pets his hair. "You gotta answer, man, or he won't go away."
Nick says, "You're not my manager, Bass, you can leave now." He sits up anyway.
Lance says, "Actually, I don't leave until I've successfully hustled you out of here so the maids and everyone else selling their story to the New York Post don't see you. It's fun that way." Lance actually does sound happy and Justin thinks he has one fucked-up manager, if Lance counts this as fun.
Nick gets out of the bed and Lance says, "Whoa, free show! Put on some pants, Nick."
Nick grumbles and Justin keeps his head down and eyes closed. Lance pulls the sheet off him, or, Justin assumes it's Lance. He can hear the shower, so that must be Nick. Lance says, "Justin. You get up, too."
"Are you mad at me?" Justin doesn't move.
"Nope. I'm having fun. Also, thank you for bringing home Nick Carter. I've heard rumors; it was nice to have them confirmed."
"You knew we went out." Justin rolls over and opens his eyes. Lance is perky and clean and dressed. Justin kinda hates him.
"No, no, the whole endowment question. Who knew?" Lance sits down next to Justin and pinches Justin's side. "Get up. We have to get Nick out of here, okay?"
Justin really doesn't have to do anything. Lance gets out Nick out without incident and Justin and Lance are in the car on time for the radio interview. "Are you and Nick back on or was that just a one-night thing?" Lance opens his book like he doesn't care about the answer. For some reason, Justin isn't convinced.
Justin says, "We're not back on. But he's in town for three more nights and so'm I, so I hope it's not just one night."
*
It's three nights. On the third and last, Nick lies in bed after they've fucked and stares at the ceiling. He says, "This is a fucking grind, isn't it?"
Justin snorts and sits up. "Sex?"
"No, the rest. The sex is great. Calm down." Nick pats Justin's pillow. "Lie down. I set the alarm this time, so maybe I'll even miss Lance the wonderful."
"Lance isn't so bad."
"He's great." Nick rubs his eyes. "He is." Justin lies back down and turns on his side so he can watch Nick. "I mean that, seriously, man. It must be nice, you know, having a manager you can really trust who knows his shit."
"Yeah, it is."
"I just mean, you know, our lives. It's a grind sometimes." Nick turns off the light. "And now I sleep."
Justin doesn't, even after Nick's breathing gets slow and regular. It's the kind of thing that keeps him up at night, counting and really thinking. He's pretty sick of it. But he counts every actual day off he's had, starting since NSYNC formed and it's a pretty sad number. It's just a little over a full year, culled from twelve. Which wouldn't be so bad if it had been a month a year or something. But it never was.
He kisses Nick goodbye and they make the usual noises about keeping in touch. Then he waits for Lance to show up. Lance busts in ten minutes before Justin is supposed to wake up, dressed and perky again. Justin laughs at his look of disappointment that Justin is also dressed and ready and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Dude, you get pleasure out of the weirdest things."
"Well, we all have our kinks." Lance sits down in the chair by the window.
"I've been thinking." Lance looks attentive, which is always nice. "I want a real vacation."
"Okay."
"I mean, this is what I mean." Justin pauses. "I want, when all this is done, every tour, however many we do, whatever, I want four months off. And by off, I mean no award appearances, no charity balls or parties or launches. Nothing where photographers show up. I mean off. Really and completely not doing anything. I've never done that, man. No interviews, nothing. Nothing at all."
"What would you do?" Lance grins.
"I figure, I have time to figure that out. But, yeah, I just want to say that right now and you should be thinking about it when we do schedule things. I want this."
Lance nods. "It'll happen."
*
Justin gets really drunk at Joey's wedding and admits to himself he's got this little crush on Lance. He can't tell Chris because that's just a completely stupid idea. He would tell Joey, but Joey's dancing and laughing and Justin wants him to have this Joey night. Not to be Joey the comforting one, or Joey the helper. This one's all about Joey. He could tell JC, but JC leaves early because Julie's eight months along and she tires easily.
So he decides to tell Britney. They've been back to really good friends for the last two, three years. He forgave her for sleeping with Wade and she forgave him for being a complete ass about it. She looks beautiful and Justin hesitates for a minute, because he's really been hoping they could sleep together tonight. He thinks telling her he's crushing on Lance would make that less likely. He sits with her by the dance floor and lets her rest her legs on his lap. "This was nice."
She smiles. "It was beautiful."
"Hey, I cried." Justin pats her thighs. Britney has on the prettiest yellow dress, it really shouldn't work, but somehow it does. Light and flow-y and Justin should know by now what all these fabrics are. But he doesn't get to wear fabric like this.
"You did. Standing right up there by Joey, it was actually sort of funny."
"Except for the part where you cried." Justin saw her. She rests her head on his chest. Justin sees a photographer, but he doesn't really care. Joey invited some of them in, there's even a film crew. He knew when he asked Brit they'd end up in the papers.
"Well, you were crying. And then Joey started crying during his vows, and Lance was clearly tearing up and it was like this hailstorm of male tears from the front of the church. I think only JC made it out unscathed."
"Wait a month for Jillian or Julian to be born, babe."
Britney laughs and plays with Justin's tie. "God, I know. Promise me, Justin, if neither of us have kids when we're thirty-five, when I'm thirty-five, you can knock me up. Okay? I wanna be a momma, I swear."
"Pending approval from whomever I'm with, if I'm with someone, it's a deal." They pinky swear and laugh. Then Justin says, "I'm so crushing right now, man, it's sick."
"On me, Mr. Timberlake?" She laughs and fans herself with her hand. On the dance floor, Chris is dancing with Phyllis and Lance is dancing with Janine. It's a really delicate minuet, how well they avoid each other. And they're both laughing and having fun and somehow they managed to be groomsmen and everything without ever saying a word to each other. Britney says, "Okay, not me."
"You're hot, you're beautiful and lord knows, I was really hoping that tonight we'd have sex, but sadly no." Justin smiles down at her and she smiles back.
"You dork. You don't get wedding sex if you bring it up this early."
"Seriously? I thought I'd get points for being upfront." Justin pushes a strand of hair out of her face and strokes her jaw. Britney almost purrs.
"Well, you don't. We still might, but don't push it."
"Never." The dance ends and people clap. Chris kisses Phyllis and walks to the left. Lance kisses Janine's hand and walks to the right. "I wish Chris and Lance could have the kind of relationship we do."
Brit shrugs and her shoulder pokes Justin's chest. "Eh, give 'em time. It took us two years, man. Plus, the difference there? Two people who fight dirty. We never were very good at that. So, you know, like that." She looks up at him. "Who you crushing on?"
"Um." Justin isn't sure he can say it out loud. If he does, it's real.
"Lance? He looks good." Britney grins after a minute and Justin wonders exactly what expression he made that convinced her she was right. "Oooooooh, sweetie, you're all Celine Dion in love with her manager who she's known since she was fourteen. That's kind of darling, honestly."
"No, when you put it that way, it's gross. He's thirty years older than her." Justin flinches. "In a year, two, I will have known him half my life. And then after that, it's more than half. Every year after that, man. I think. Okay, I have a theory about this."
Britney nods. "Dependency."
Justin blinks. "No. No, I was going to say proximity. Dependency?"
"Your theory first." She pats his tie.
"Well, um. My theory was just he's around all the time and he's there and you know, we covet what we see. You know? He's hot, you know."
"That's an interesting theory." She grins. "Here's mine. You, like many of us, are a very dependent person. Dependent, like, you know, other people do things for you. And it's been your mom and Trace and Johnny and the guys. And over the last few years, all of them have been less there for you. And now heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Lance," and she says it like Ed McMahon. "And he's doing all those things for you. So you're all focused on him, like that, he's there for you and he's the only one, and ergo, crush. Dependency. It's just the way your mind is translating it."
"He is hot." Justin shifts in his seat. He doesn't much like Brit's theory. He really dislikes it when she's right and this is starting to feel like one of those times.
"Sure he is. And he's your manager and he holds your hand and he does things for you. He beats people up for you."
"Well, that. I think that was more about Lance being upset and pushed too hard than me. I think." Justin shrugs.
Britney makes her skeptical face. "He does things for you. He's easily stressed. Which, frankly, is a very good argument for not ever acting on said crush. Because, you know, he's about as over his last relationship as Julie is skinny. He's got this big huge beached whale of a chip on his shoulder. And that's what I think." Britney sits up and fastens the strap on her heels. "We should dance, they'll be packing up soon."
Justin takes her hand and they glide into some slow song. Over her shoulder, he sees his mother, holding hands with his dad and talking to Joey's sister.
Britney always feels exactly right in his arms, it really annoys the fuck out of Justin at this moment. "I disagree with you, by the way, but I didn't have intentions on acting on the crush thing."
"Good." She tightens her grip on Justin's hand and he twirls her, just like she wants. Her skirt flares and she twirls back into his arms. "I just think, you know, even without Lance being all bitter not over Chris boy, it would be bad to make your dependency even deeper." She leans on his shoulder again. "We're so old, Justin, we're not even in our early twenties anymore."
"I know." He pats her hair.
She looks up at him and says, "But we, I think we should definitely have sex when we get back to the hotel. We can pretend we're young again and people are taking bets on whether I'm still a virgin."
Justin kisses her nose. "No, let's just let it be right now. I like you better now."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
*
He touches Lance too often. He got into the habit on the first tour, touching for reassurance. But now, now he's twenty-six, and he shouldn't be so dependent. Dependent, Justin thinks and frowns. He's read a few books about that. He can stand on his own.
So he realizes he's grabbing Lance's thigh to get his attention in the car. He leans on Lance when the show finishes. Lance never shrugs him off, not once, but Justin needs to stop that. He sits farther away and lets Lance read his book. He doesn't touch Lance after the shows.
The tour's started in earnest, no more promo shows. Lance says, "So, Jive is making noises, I wanted you to know."
"Noises?" Justin towel dries his hair; he's soaked with sweat. Fucking outdoor shows in the South in the summer.
"They weren't happy with the first month sales."
"It's platinum." Justin throws his towel at the wall.
"Last one was double platinum by now." Lance sits down. "Justin, they're just being whiny. They were counting on Jessica Simpson to do more, she flopping and now they're hurting. So suddenly, you're a problem."
"Tour's sold out. What do they want me to do?"
"Nothing yet, but I'm telling you now, be ready for shit down the pike." Lance opens his book.
Justin bites his lip. There are eight million reasons he needs to not do anything about this crush on Lance. There's the creepy Rene and Celine angle. There's the dependency thing. Brit's right, as much as it pains Justin to admit it. Justin has spent his whole life with people taking care of him, making him happy. Now his mom is gardening and Trace is a dad. He's solo, and all he has from all those people who used to hold his hand is Lance. And so, it's not a crush. It's a neurosis. Justin should find a book on that specifically.
He says, "What's the book? How do you choose them, anyway? Going through some list of books everyone should read?" Which is not what Justin wanted to say. He just sounds hostile.
Lance doesn't look up. "The book is a Ruth Rendell murder mystery. And I don't have a list. I just, recommendations, you know, from friends, randomly chosen people on the internet, paperbacks that look interesting."
"So, um." Justin strips to his boxer-briefs and puts on his clean slacks. He starts looking through his bag for a shirt. "So, what if the book sucks? Do you read to the end?"
"Yeah. It takes longer, but I figure, you know. I read Middlemarch while you were in the studio, which is fucking really long, and it was really boring until the last twenty pages. But those last twenty pages were amazing." Lance turns the page and finally looks up. "Can't you find a shirt?"
"Fuck, no. Where did it go?"
Lance stands up. "I think you forgot to pack it." Lance sighs. He's wearing a nice button down gray shirt and he starts unbuttoning it. "Can't have you walking around shirtless." Lance hates the tattoo on Justin's back. He doesn't say it out loud anymore, since Justin's mom was sick, but Justin can tell by the expression on Lance's face.
Lance holds out his shirt. He's just wearing a plain white t-shirt now, and it's really thin. Okay, and there's neurosis and there's how hot Lance looks with that tight t-shirt. Justin swallows. "Won't it look weird if I walk out in your shirt?"
"No one saw me come in, Justin. No one's got pictures of this. It's just a fucking shirt." Lance pushes his glasses up and tosses the shirt on the couch. "Wear it or go topless. Or there's the one you were wearing on stage. Either way, we gotta go."
Justin wears the shirt and smells Lance for the rest of the night. It doesn't help with the whole getting over his neurosis thing at all. Lance asks for the shirt back in the morning, even though Justin hasn't had a chance to get it cleaned. Justin just throws it at him.
*
Pharrell leans across the bar and shoves the full glass at Justin. "Drink, man." Justin hasn't seen Pharrell in months, really. Pharrell's gotten all focused on his latest project, some girl he discovered in Finland, and he hasn't had time to work with anyone. He calls Justin occasionally and stops back to the states every few months. After two years, Justin hopes the girl's album is going to be spectacular.
"I've had two, man." Justin grins. "Fuck, why you getting me drunk?"
"Because I wanted to talk about something and I figure, you know, get you drunk first."
Justin smirks. "Got a girl for me? Blind date?"
Pharrell screws up his face like that bitter beer commercial. That's a good commercial, Justin thinks. He hasn't seen it in years. "Nah, man, I just. I wanted to ask you something and I think it's kinda, you know, personal."
"Man, you're my friend. You're like a brother to me, you can ask me anything." Justin sucks on a pretzel from the bowl on the bar. "Is this the part where you really want to know about Britney? Cause, you don't need to feel bad about that. Everyone asks me."
"Nah. Not about Britney."
Justin nibbles on the now salt free pretzel. "Uh, fire away."
"So, uh, are you and Lance hittin' it?"
"What?"
Pharrell shrugs. "I just mean, I thought. Maybe."
"We're not. I'm not --" Justin grabs another pretzel and sucks on it to cover.
"Man, I know you are. I know, it's not your main, dude, I know you." Pharrell looks around and lights a joint. Justin is just staring and blinking.
"Oh. But I don't, not, uh." Justin closes his eyes. "Okay. Yeah, but I'm not, with Lance. Me an' Lance. We're not. Just friends." He opens his eyes. Pharrell is nodding and inhaling.
"I get it. Okay, just checking."
Justin plays with his pretzel and then eats it. Then he says, because he's stupid and drunk, "Why would you think that? About me and Lance?"
"Well, he's pretty gay, you, you we've discussed and y'all have that vibe."
"A 'he likes me vibe,' you think? Like, you thought that because he seems really into me?" Justin carefully arranges his new pretzel at an exact right angle from the edge of the bar.
Pharrell laughs. "I dunno, man. You know, really, it's probably that been friends for forever vibe overlaid with all that other stuff. You know?"
Justin nods. "But you're okay with me, and all that?"
"Dude." Pharrell pushes Justin's arm and Justin clutches the edge of the bar to stay seated. "Sorry, man, thought you had better balance there. Dude, I'm fine. I've known for years."
Justin grins. He inhales deeply, closest thing he can get to getting high with the tour on.
*
Julie has her baby right on time, a girl they name Jillian Green Chasez. JC sends new pictures every single day. She's the prettiest, squirmiest little girl. She likes Justin, she likes Lance but she cries when Chris holds her. They don't all see her at the same time, of course, but Chris tells Justin all about it.
Kelly is due ten weeks later, but she goes into labor prematurely. It's a boy and he goes straight to the intensive care unit. Lance flies out to Los Angeles as soon as Joey calls. Justin has a show and he hates it. Lance says not to reschedule, he can be out there in a few days. "There's nothing you can do, man, we're just waiting."
Justin would rather be there than here. Here is another stupid hotel with an empty adjoining room. He wants to wait with Joey. He calls, but it's not the same. He calls his mother, she can't go either, but she calls as much as he does, talking to Phyllis mostly. She says Kelly is still not up and about and Joey looks a year older every single day.
Plus, Chris is there. Chris, Lance, tense waiting room, Justin thinks it must be trouble waiting to happen. Joey shouldn't have to deal with that. JC is there, but JC has Jillian to worry about, too. She's healthy, she's great, but Jillian's not even a month old. Justin talks to Joey, he talks to Lance, he talks to Chris, but he's pretty sure he's not getting the full story. JC just says, "It would be easier if you were here."
But he does two more shows and he finally gets on a plane to LA.
Lance meets him at the airport. "How's the baby?" Justin smiles and notices Lance hasn't shaved since he left.
"He's okay. Not great, but things are looking better. I can probably leave with you on Wednesday." Lance waves Justin to a rented car.
"So he's going to be okay?" Justin reaches out and rub's Lance's thigh.
"They're pretty sure. You know, they've made amazing strides, you know, treating preemies. And JJ's not that premature. I mean, he is. But."
"JJ?" Justin smiles.
"Joseph Anthony Fatone the third. There was a movement afoot to call him JT, but Chris pointed out we already have one of those." Lance smirks.
"So, you know, Chris is here."
"Yup." Lance turns onto the highway.
"How's that going?"
Lance frowns and squints into the sun. "What do you want me to say here?"
"I don't, I want you to tell me the truth."
"What do you want?" Lance taps the steering wheel. It's the only sign he's upset.
"I want to know how you are, you know, you're my friend." Justin crosses his hands in his lap.
"Whatever." Lance takes the exit for the hospital. "Look, it's none of your business."
"How does that work? Lance, gimme a break."
"No, you give me a break." Lance parks the car and clenches his hands on the steering wheel. "It's fucking awful, I hate him, I hate seeing him and he's your best friend, he's your best friend and you think he's amazing and he hurt me and I hate him. Are you happy now?" Lance rubs his forehead and covers his face. He takes a deep breath.
"Lance." Justin takes off his seatbelt and reaches over, tries to hug Lance but Lance won't put his hands down. "Lance, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay?"
Lance pushes him off. "Whatever. Just, he's your best friend, Justin. Just." Lance gets out of the car.
Justin says, "Fuck." He gets out and follows Lance into the hospital entrance. He catches up with Lance and says, "Lance, listen to me."
"Huh," Lance turns around. "No."
"You know, it's been two years. It's like, man, you know what Will Smith said, hate in your heart will consume you, too."
Lance blinks. "Will Smith? You think Will Smith is a horrible rapper."
"He's not great, but it's, like, man, there's something dark and wrong with you if you don't like that song. But I'm talking more about the point, man. You know, he also said, 'don't take it out on the next." Justin bites his lip.
"Well, there is no next."
"You're planning to be celibate for the rest of your life because of Chris?"
Lance just glares. He rubs his hands together. "I didn't say celibate. And I don't plan to take advice from Will Smith."
"Well, you know, you read way more than me, he's not the only one to say it. I bet you could think of lots of books and stuff where people have made that point. It's basically, man, it's been two years. I think you, you'd be happier if you let this shit go. You don't have to join the Chris Kirkpatrick fan club, man, but let it go. Stop, stop being like this. He's not your fucking nemesis. He's your ex-boyfriend and yes, it fucking sucks, and you two were really shitty to each other at the end, but you know, you loved him, too. I know that." Justin shakes his head and waves his hand. "Just, take a step and get over it."
Lance looks blank. Justin's been studying him up close for two years and he still, he has no idea what Lance is thinking half the time. Lance says, "Let's go in, okay?"
Justin takes a deep breath and follows Lance inside. There's a waiting room and Joey, JC, Kelly's parents, Phyllis and Joe and Chris is in the corner playing cat's cradle with Briahna. The news is good, but it's still waiting and waiting. Joey goes in periodically to see JJ and the other room where Kelly is recovering, and the rest of the time they just sit there and hold hands.
When it gets dark, JC says, "I got, you know, Jillian." He flaps his hands and looks sad. He keeps falling asleep, too, and Justin's pretty sure that as soon as JC gets home, Julie hands him the baby and says, "your turn."
Joey looks up, "Man, you don't gotta hang around here. We're just here. It's great you been here so long."
"Oh, I'll be back tomorrow. But Julie and Jillian, you know."
Joey stands up. "Man, go home." He hugs JC and gives JC a little shove. "Go home."
Justin goes out to get food later and sneaks it upstairs for everyone. They're very careful about it. When it's gone, Chris sits on one side of him and Lance on the other. Briahna is sleeping with her head in Lance's lap. Lance rubs Briahna's back and leans his head against Justin's shoulder. Chris says, "Thanks for the food."
Lance says, "Yeah, hospital food sucks."
"Least I can do." Justin sighs. Joey comes back from the NICU and sits down in front of Briahna. He brushes the hair off her forehead. Justin says, "Hey, man."
"Hey." Joey sighs. "Y'all can go, you know, too. My parents are gonna take Briahna back to the house, everybody come back in the morning. JJ'll be fine."
Justin says, "You leavin'?"
Joey shakes his head. Chris says, "Huh. Guess we'll stay."
Lance says, "We're all childless and unloved, man, this is our idea of a fun night out."
Joey laughs and covers his mouth. "Y'all suck."
Justin nudges Joey with his foot. "You suck the most."
Lance laughs and says, "Justin sucks the most. I hate Justin."
"Whu's going on?" Briahna stretches and Joey picks her up. He walks her out of the room.
*
They spend two days there and then they fly back to the tour. Justin is having absolutely no luck getting over his crush on Lance. It's hard to think someone isn't adorable when they spend two hours a day on the phone with their best friend because their best friend is having the worst month of his life. It's pretty damn near impossible.
Justin calls Joey, too, and he just listens or tells stupid jokes to distract Joey, but he knows Lance is best at it. After three weeks, JJ is okay to go home. Justin calls and says, "Okay, you know that part where we spent all night sleeping on crappy couches and shit for you and your kids? You're clear that that's always the way it is, right? Like, you know, we don't go away just because things are better."
Joey says, "I'm clear." He sniffs.
"Are you crying?"
"Yes, fuck you. It's okay to cry. You're being fucking sweet, man. Fuck you, too."
"Talk to you later."
*
Chris finishes his documentary and it blows up all over ESPN. He says, "Okay, all I want is one week to not talk about hockey. Can you give me that, J?"
Justin grins. "Dude, let me figure out things with my manager and we're set. Book your tickets."
Justin knocks on the adjoining door and goes in when he hears Lance say, "What?"
Lance is lying on his bed, reading another book. Justin doesn't even ask. He flops down next to Lance and says, "So, Chris wants to come out for a week. Let's work that out, right?"
Lance nods. He puts his book down and grabs his Palm Pilot. It's the latest model and really scares Justin. Sleek and thin and frighteningly like a Star Trek ship. Lance says, "What week?"
"One week from now. Are you gonna make yourself scarce and completely disappear again?"
"I don't think Will Smith would approve, do you?" Lance frowns and pokes at the screen. "Anyway, next week is fine. I'm not taking the bus those three days, though. I don't need to be that mature."
Justin rolls over and hugs Lance. "You're the bestest. Thank you for all that. And yeah, Will Smith would so not approve." Lance hugs back and then moves away quickly. He pushes his glasses up and moves to the desk.
Chris is great to have around. He bounces around and keeps Justin wired. It's really helpful, too, because Justin just has three months left on this tour. Then it's his vacation. "Here's what I'm thinking. You, me, Scotland. I read this thing about this golf tour thing. It's completely cool. Playing golf at these great greens all over Scotland, the home of golf. Six weeks. It would rock."
Chris nods. "Oh, fuck, yeah. When, man?"
"When the tour's over, barring any other shit I have to do. Six weeks with you, two weeks with Joe, two with JC, two at home and then I was thinking, you know, Paris." Justin dips into his bag and pulls out the brochures he got from his travel agent.
"Paris?"
"It sounds like fun. I just, you know, really experience it. No promoting, nothing. Just being. In Paris." Justin grins. "Sounds dorky?"
"Sounds like a coming of age story. Like a Merchant-Ivory film. Helena Bonham-Carter will star, and maybe they can get Giovanni Ribisi to play Trace."
"Trace isn't coming. It's about being alone." Justin shrugs. "Just an idea."
"It's a good idea. It's just, you know, you're already come of age. You've came or something." Chris grabs the Scotland brochure and flips through it. "I get six weeks, I like that."
"You're my best friend." Justin hits Chris in the head with the Paris brochure. He can't wait to have six weeks of Chris time.
"No Lance time?"
"Two years of Lance time, man." Justin fiddles with the brochure in his hand. He thinks lack of proximity will be good for his crush. It probably is all neurosis and dependency, but he'll really be on his own this time.
Chris giggles. "I know that feeling." Justin thinks he should say something because he's really enjoying his Lance time and he doesn't want to encourage Chris but mostly he just doesn't want to deal with it. So he changes the subject back to Scotland.
*
Lance makes himself scarce but not as much as last time. He even spends a few hours with Chris, even if it just Justin and Chris playing video games in Justin's hotel room and Lance sitting on the bed making fun of them. It's almost like being back in the band, endless hotel rooms and everyone hanging out.
The day before Chris leaves, Chris and Justin are reading Cosmo and taking quizzes when Lance comes in and sits down on the bed. Chris and Justin are sprawled on the floor, ripping out articles for the other to read. Justin says, "Yo, what's up?"
Lance frowns. "Look, I talked to Jive today. They're officially unhappy."
Justin looks up. "What's that mean?"
"Sales are soft."
Chris rolls his eyes. "No, they're not. Two point five million, that's not soft."
Lance says, "It is to them. The last album was four million. They want to see this one at at least three, and they don't think it'll make it there."
Justin frowns. "What, okay, first off, what happens if they don't? Are they gonna drop me or something?"
"They're not going to drop you. It just means next time, it's a comeback album. And they'll be weighing how much support to give you, they'll be all over your ass when you're in the studio, they'll be that much more in your face. So, it's not, you know, good." Lance looks pissed, and Justin thinks, a shade of upset.
"What can we do? The tour's selling pretty well, we've already got a bunch of radio and TV scheduled. What else is there?" Justin rubs his forehead.
Chris says, "Nekkid pictures. Giveaways at the supermarket." Chris snorts. "Come on, two point five is good. God, people would kill for that amount sold."
Lance clenches his jaw. Justin puts his hand over Chris's. "Hey, Chris, can you get that, you were talking about those hot dogs outside, like, maybe three? The hotel ones, man, I bet they take out all the random horse parts or something. I want pure hot dog, man, can you get those?"
Chris rolls his eyes and stands up. "Oh, okay, sure, J. You want three? How many you want, Lance?"
"I don't want any horsedogs." Lance rubs his forehead and takes off his glasses. "Get me two." Lance cleans his glasses on his t-shirt. Chris rolls his eyes again and leaves. Lance says, "That was subtle."
"Polite fiction. Why do you think sales are soft, specifically? Is it the album?"
"No," Lance says forcefully. "Not at all. It's great. We hit radio, we did. I think, you know, MTV is doing its three hundredth retool and they're all reality shows or videos, so we didn't get that constant build we had when there was TRL and Cribs and things like that. We didn't get on TV enough to counteract that. Plus, the sales aren't that soft. Jive thought Jessica Simpson would blow up, she didn't, two other flops this quarter and they need this album to do more."
"So, not your fault." Justin gets up from the floor and sits next to Lance. "I mean, if you were thinking that. Some weird sort of album good, Lance bad thing. That's not the case here."
"Whatever, I'm not wallowing in self-pity." Lance shoves Justin.
"So what can we do?"
"Well, there's extending the tour. But you want your vacation in a few months, so. And I'm not sure we'd be able to keep up the sales. And you know, do a commercial, license one of the songs. Not doing a jingle on your own or something."
Justin says, "What's wrong with a commercial? You made a face."
"Well, commercials. People license songs for two reasons. 'Ooooh, I'm nobody, notice me.' Or 'ooooooh, you used to like me, like me again, I'm in a commercial.' I don't want people to think that about you." Lance sighs. "It would make Jive happiest, because they'll get paid straight off."
"Well, I don't think it's the second. It's not."
"We've, you've never straight out licensed a song. You know, it's different from recording a new jingle or something. It's your song in a commercial and it just looks, uh, desperate." Lance turns and looks right at Justin. He looks serious, maybe, blank.
"I don't care. I don't think it looks desperate. And you said it already, I'm a whore, the jury is already out, or has reported or something. It makes Jive happy, we sell more records. Tell me the negative there."
Lance shrugs. "I don't wanna do it. I don't want you to have to do it."
"Yeah, it's not my life's wish either. But it's not a disappointment, it's not going on my list of wish I hadn't, man, that sucked. Dude, having to take my shirt off at fifteen sucked, this is just another work thing. And you know, chill. Chill." Justin reaches over and pulls Lance close. He rubs little circles in Lance's hair. "Chill."
Lance hugs back for a split second and then pushes Justin away. "Fine. I'm gonna make some calls, bring over my horse dogs when Chris is back."
*
Justin drives Chris to the airport and hugs him goodbye. "See you in Scotland, man." Chris grins and mimes his awful golf swing before he goes into the airport.
Lance takes all of three days to find someone who wants a song for their ad. Lance picks the Pontiac GTO offer, it's the coolest, he says. Justin films a commercial for the overseas market for two days in LA. He gets to drive a lot and look cool. After two hours of filming, he walks over to where Lance is sitting, reading, sweating in the sun. Los Angeles rocks. Justin pokes at Lance's book. "How you doing?"
"When did you decide to become Joey Tribbiani? Seriously, you need to catch up with what's currently on TV and stop living in the past." Lance almost smirks, so Justin relaxes.
"What are you reading?"
"The Hobbit. You know, that Tolkien fellow? JC bought me a nice set for Christmas, you know, now that I read." Lance closes his book and looks up. "They're not treating you bad?"
"Dude, it kinda rocks. I drive in circles, I stand around. It's fine. It's a shoot. Actually, they're really sucking up to me. Did you prep them in advance? Yell at everyone beforehand."
Lance raises an eyebrow. "Of course I did. It's my job."
Justin leans over and whispers in Lance's ear. "You look hot when you do that." He winces, stands up quickly and says, "Just playing with you."
Lance rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Rest and drink water, it's hot out here." Lance is blushing maybe, or flushed from the sun. He looks away and points at the catering truck.
*
Show, show, show, Justin counts them down. The commercial debuts and the sales get enough of a bump. Justin books all his stops on his actual, real vacation. Six weeks in Scotland, touring golf courses and hanging with Chris. Two weeks in New York with Joey and his kids, two weeks in Los Angeles with JC and his kid, two weeks home with his mom, Trace and his daddy, his brothers. And then, "Paris. I think Paris for three weeks."
Lance says, "Paris. Why Paris?"
"Because it's Paris. I mean, first off, we've never been very big there. Or me. I figure, you know, alone in the big city, no one to be dependent on. Plus, Paris. It's beautiful. I bet it'll be a good place to write."
"Paris." Lance shrugs. "I was reading this biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay, the poet? She lived in Paris for a while. She was having an affair." Lance looks down. "You could have an affair."
"I don't like affairs. You know, cheating, wrong."
"Are you still down on meaningless sex?" Lance blushes and keeps his eyes on his shoes.
"You asking? Because I was never per se against it, just, you know, not when you're seeing someone. And we're both single." This, Justin thinks, is sort of stupid, this flirting. But Lance is so cute when he's blushing, he can't stop himself. Also, some part of him is jumping up and down at the thought that Lance might say yes.
Lance laughs. "No, no, I'm not asking. I, I dunno. Okay, of course, you're hot. But. Anyway, you have fun in Paris."
"Okay." Justin grins. "Maybe you could lend me some books to read, or something. About Paris. I'm just, I'm really excited." Justin looks down and takes off his glasses, cleans them on his shirt. He wears them all the time now and Lance doesn't say anything. "Are you excited?"
"For your vacation? Strangely, no."
"I mean, it's your vacation, too."
"Not so much. I have the real estate stuff still and just because you're not working doesn't mean I'm not working. The Justin Timberlake business rolls on and on." Lance waves his hands. "I am happy for you. You deserve a break."
Lance looks like sunshine. He's back to almost blond, but he doesn't bother with spiking his hair anymore. It's soft, all the time. His eyes are somehow sharper, brighter behind his glasses and he's still in great shape. Justin needs to get away and get over this.
Before he knows it, the last show's done and Justin's packed everything. Standing in front of the airport in Memphis, Lance talking on his phone. "Lance, I got a plane to catch. Hi."
Lance says, "Bye" to the phone and closes it. "Sorry. I had to take that call." Lance hugs Justin. "You have fun. Drive safe, be careful."
"I'll miss you," Justin says. He doesn't want to let go of Lance. "I'll call you."
"I'll call you. I have to, you know. Work things."
"But not work things I need to do." Justin lets go and takes a step back.
"Nope, just keeping you in touch. Anyway, you have fun. Be a manly man in your manly vacation of golfing." Lance stands and waves and keeps waving, even when Justin turns away for a moment and then looks back. Justin sighs. He's taking time off, he's not going to be dependent and he's going to get over Lance.
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