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.

FREE MAN IN PARIS

1. FREE

I was born a fortunate son
Mother gave me all her fear and attention
I worked to prove my worth to everyone ... - Jeremy Toback

So this is the "post-sync" world, Justin thinks. Sitting outside his own hotel room, staring at his cell phone. Justin closes his eyes and prays.

He opens his eyes and Lance is bending over him. "Why," Lance says, "exactly are you sitting out here?"

Justin half stands up and hugs Lance. Justin says, "There's like, honestly, there's a party in there. But it's not mine."

Lance glances back at Leo, the bodyguard. He frowns. Justin steps aside and Lance and Leo go in the room. Leo closes the door before Justin can walk in. He doesn't really want to. He sinks back to the floor and takes out his cell phone. It's still not ringing.

The door opens again and people start filing out, going to another room, leaving. The new bass player, the three girls he picked up, people Justin can't even place. The door closes again. Justin watches the time display on his cell phone for ten minutes. No one calls at all. Eleven people have this number; he only wants one to call. She doesn't.

Lance comes out and tugs Justin up. "I got a room," Lance says, "you know, to hang out with you. Come on." Lance turns around and Justin follows.

When Justin gets into the room, Lance pulls him into another hug. Then Justin sits on the edge of the bed, and Lance says quietly, "How's your mom?"

Justin looks down. He won't cry. He waits until he can say it without his voice breaking. "She's gonna be fine. That's what all the doctors say, seriously. She calls every day. She's going to be fine. Perfectly treatable."

Lance nods. He looks down quickly and Justin wipes his eyes while Lance isn't looking. Justin says, "Cleared out the party?"

"Clear." Lance stands up and pats his pockets. "Leo's flushing things down the toilet. Why'd you, why are people partying in your room while you're waiting outside?"

Justin shrugs. His mom told him to go on tour; it was such a great album. Trace decided to really be a dad and stay with this one, this girl, this baby. Justin's fucking miserable. He says, "I dunno. Some girl offered to blow me, and she wanted to do it right there, in front of everyone. It just freaked me out. I guess that's a stupid thing to be freaked out by, but you know? Not with all those people there. Anyway, so I walked out and I was waiting."

His mom still hasn't called today. Some days, she doesn't call until really late, after she's rested all day and she can talk without having to get off the phone after a few minutes. Today is one of those days. He just needs to wait.

Lance says, "Who's your tour manager?"

"Ted."

"Ted who? Casablanca?" Lance smirks.

"Ted, who used to work with Usher and still does, but Usher's all off the road for the next year. Ted is very good. He's not hands-on about the after stuff, but that's not his job." Justin rubs his forehead.

Lance rolls his eyes and sits down in the chair. Lance never went to space, never made a third movie, never discovered anyone. When they went on this hiatus, no end date in sight, Lance got into the real estate business. He did that well. He and Howie are business partners now, and last Justin heard, Lance had doubled his fortune in eighteen months.

Lance looks miserable. Justin's pretty sure he's the last stop on Lance's little tour. Justin says, "Weren't you in LA with JC?"

"I was. He's working on the sequel to the disco concept album." Lance purses his lips. "He was like, you know, engrossed in studio things and he didn't want me hanging over his shoulder after the first few weeks. And even LA can get boring."

Chris and Lance broke up six weeks ago. Before Justin's mom was diagnosed. So Joey would have been stop number one, but Justin's pretty sure Joey had location shots in Cleveland and even Lance's misery wouldn't make Cleveland look good. Two weeks with Joey, a month with JC and now Justin.

He looks up at Lance and thinks, misery loves company. He says, "Why don't you, here's an idea. I think, um, Ted's a little over his head. I mean, he can handle the dancers and the tour stuff, but clearly, okay, this is not my best hour. I'm kinda lost. I'm doing crappy, and I need someone good to keep me on track. Why don't you, uh. You could hang out. You know?"

"Are you offering me a job?" Lance smiles.

It's not a smirk so Justin says, "Yes. I think I need someone. You'd be, you know, sort of perfect."

"Sort of?" Lance gets up and sits down next to Justin. "You need another manager?"

"Pretty much." Justin's phone rings and it's his mother.

*

It takes two days of lawyers and negotiating with Johnny and Lance and it's done. Lance basically takes over as Justin's co-manager for the last ten weeks of the tour. It's a really nice distraction for the first week, watching Lance get used to the job. Justin loves distraction right now.

Lance spends two days watching things and the next three days firing people and yelling at everyone else. He takes control of things really well. Ted isn't even resentful as Lance steps all over his turf, mostly because Lance spends his whole first day after the contracts are signed following Ted, asking Ted questions. Justin suspects that the people around him like Lance because they didn't much like being around Justin before Lance showed up. Not like Lance isn't depressed, too, what with the big break-up, but Lance wears it better.

Lance and Chris got together during the last NSYNC tour right when it was starting to become clear it would be the last for a really long time. It didn't seem then like the bad idea it ended up being. Or so Justin thinks. He's just judging by what he heard from Chris, and secondhand through Joey. Not like he and Lance didn't talk, but never about that when it started to turn bad.

So Lance and Chris were in love but the last six months sounded an awful lot like torture to Justin. Like they just tore each other down and brought out the worst in each other. Justin thinks they broke up when they had scarred every part of each other and had nowhere else to hurt. But it's not like Chris doesn't sound like the walking wounded whenever he and Justin talk, so maybe there were still a few places left.

Chris doesn't say much when Justin tells him about Lance being his manager. Only, "Well, that will probably work for you." Then he asks about Justin's mom.

*

Justin hates getting up. He always has and now it's just worse. All he wants is to be home. If he were home, he'd bring his mom tea. He'd go over to his daddy's house and see his brothers while she was sleeping. He'd be right there every moment she wasn't feeling well and he'd know how she was, not just how his dad said she was. The only thing that keeps him away is the way she says every time, "You're doing so great, baby."

Lance pushes his arm and says, "You're going to be late. Radio interview."

"I don't wanna." Justin sits up and rubs his eyes. "I want, I want to go home."

Lance presses his lips together and then says, "We can do that. You can. It'll be really expensive. Refunds, insurance. Your insurance next time out will be really scary. But you think about it, you have a radio interview to do first. You know you'll be back here, don't want to piss off the program director."

Justin nods and gets out of bed. In a few hours, Lance will nudge him and ask if he still wants to go home. Justin will say no, he can do it. Justin knows he's being manipulated, but Lance isn't really trying, he hasn't pulled out the big guns yet. Justin's okay with it, and really, he's paying Lance to do it.

He misses his mother. He misses Trace a lot, too, interviews like these. Lance is a perfect replacement because he knows all the people at the radio stations still. In the first two weeks on the job, Lance ends up doing half the interviews with Justin. A nice shield. And when it's just Justin, Lance sits in the back where Justin can see him, the two of them in an unspoken dialogue for the whole time. It's so much better than doing this alone or with the junior publicist he got stuck with for this last leg of the tour.

This morning's deejay doesn't want to talk Lance; it's a more urban station. The guy leans forward and says, "So, I hear your momma's sick, I'm sorry, man."

Justin doesn't smile. He just says, "Yeah, she's getting better. She's gonna be fine."

Three questions about Justin's last girlfriend who dumped him after sleeping with one of her co-stars from her last movie. One question about Britney, which is just silly. "We still talk all the time, man, she's completely cool." Which is true, so it's always easy to remember. Two questions about this album, one about the tour, three pointless jokes about the new Jay-Z song about being dumped by Beyonce.

No questions about NSYNC, only two years for that to become moot for urban stations. Two hours later it's a different kind of station and the deejay makes Lance sit right next to Justin so he can talk to both them. "Good to see you, man. So good to see you." The deejay smiles at Lance.

This one has one less question about Justin's last girlfriend. One question about NSYNC, "Why'd y'all break up? That last album rocked."

Lance says, "We didn't. We always said, you know, we wouldn't break up as long as we were friends, and we're all still friends. We just, you know, everybody had all these things, great stuff going on, and it was impossible to find all the time to focus on NSYNC, because that's, that's a huge chunk of time. So we're on hiatus. We don't know when it'll be over, but, man, it will be some day and for now, hiatus. No break up, just hiatus." He grins and looks over at Justin.

Justin says, "Totally. Man, don't know when, because JC's got this amazing album he's working on, and Joey's in this new movie and Chris has all this stuff and, you know, I've got this little tour that I hope people will be coming out to see, so."

The deejay wraps that part up saying, "And I can see Lance has himself a great job, so." Then another stupid joke about Beyonce's new song about how Jay-Z's an ass and the music fills the studio.

While the music's playing, the deejay takes off his baseball cap and smooths what's left of his hair on the top of his head. "It's not so little a tour, man, saw it two nights ago and you rocked. Great show."

Justin nods. "Yeah, you know, it's no PopOdyssey."

"Thank god," Lance says. He laughs and plays with his bottled water.

"Well, hey, what do you care?" The deejay chuckles. "You don't have to do any of it."

"Nope." Lance grins. "It's all the good parts of touring without any work at all. No dancing or anything."

Ten minutes later they're done and Lance opens the door of the limo for Justin. Justin scoots over as Lance gets in and says, "You don't have to do that."

"Fuck, I certainly don't. But I got to the car first." Lance whaps Justin's thigh with his book and leans back in his seat. He opens the book and starts reading. It's weird, distinctly weird to Justin that Lance is reading all the time now. Justin noticed that first night in Lance's hotel room, the stack of books Lance had already unpacked. Fiction, non-fiction, some titles Justin recognizes and another half he's never heard of. Lance is actually reading them and he takes notes. He jots things in the margins with his expensive Cross pen.

"What are you reading?"

Lance fiddles with his glasses and doesn't look up from his book. "It's about innovation and the Industrial Revolution."

Justin says, "So, like a business thing? Learning about all that?"

Lance shrugs. He turns a page. "I guess. That's not why I'm reading it."

"Are you, um, going to take a college course or something? You're reading enough." Justin remembers his tutors and how all that worked. Read a lot of books and do exercises, write papers and then a piece of paper that showed it was all done.

Lance snorts. "No college, no grades. I've been judged enough the last three years."

Which is a Chris slam or something. Justin plays with the hem of his t-shirt and doesn't say anything. Five minutes before they get to the hotel, Lance closes his book and tucks it into his messenger bag. He says, "Okay, you still wanna go home?"

Justin looks out of the window of the car. "No, I can do it. She told me to, she says it on the phone every time. It's fine."

*

Justin doesn't talk about Chris to Lance and he doesn't mention Lance to Chris. Chris calls every day, slightly more than normal since Justin's mom was diagnosed. Chris is so fucking talented, so capable of doing anything, so it's not such a surprise that he has bunch of projects going at any given moment. He had a record label for two years and then after the first hit act, Warner Bros bought it. Two years ago, Chris did a guest host thing for some talk show that lasted six months on the UPN. The show died, Chris got buzz. Now he's about to end a two-month stint guest hosting for the latest show to try to follow Letterman. Justin watches it religiously.

Chris calls two minutes after the show's done in whatever time zone Justin is in. Tonight he opens with, "Do you believe that bitch? Man, I been waiting four hours to say that to you."

"Dude, she's a big dyke. You know she dated Brit?" Justin smiles and pulls up the covers.

"I do recall that. I don't keep up with the woman so blessed as to get to deflower you, I don't keep up with her like you do, but I did hear that. And I was being all nice! No sly little questions about that big ol' closet she has right behind her. And she's still a bitch. What is up with that?" Chris laughs and it's almost like he's right there. He won't be, of course. Now that Lance is 24-7 on Justin's tour, Justin's sure he won't see him until the tour is over. One more reason to want the tour to end so Justin can go home. He misses Chris, like he always does.

"Well, she's a bitch, man. Brit dumped her pretty quick. I think you did good. I mean, you made her look bad. It was entertaining. That's the thing, right?"

"Well, it cuts down on people willing to be booked with me, say. I only get the shitty guests and no one watches because who really cares? But hey, I like your reasoning."

"I'm brill at this, man." Justin turns off the light and turns on his side. His mom called this afternoon at five; he can go to sleep after this. "So, anything else going on with you?"

"Nothin' honey. Getting back on my feet, you know, after everything."

Justin says, "You're always on your feet, man."

Chris asks about Justin's mom, Justin says she's fine, getting better and they say goodbye and Justin goes to bed.

*

It's weird. Johnny's still one of Justin's managers, but the album's been out six months, this is the second leg of the tour. And he's still Britney's manager, so with her album just out and her third movie still doing well, Johnny's a lot more focused there. Justin needs someone else. It's been his mom for so long and now it's Lance.

Johnny's old now, officially old, and as long as Justin's been doing all this, Johnny's been doing it longer. Justin always listens to him. And Justin's mom is his mom, he knows she wants what's best for him, he always listens to her, too.

Lance says he should do this silly TV thing, some quickie guest appearance playing in the club where the murder happens. Justin says, "I don't do club shows."

"Well, you have. And it takes two days, which you have in your schedule, and it's top five in the ratings every week."

"Maybe I had other plans for those two days." Justin picks at the hem of his jeans. They're not supposed to be artfully frayed anymore but Justin likes that look.

Lance pushes his glasses back up his nose and frowns. "You actually didn't. Or don't. We're going to be in LA. If you add up the time to fly to Memphis and back, you'd have all of three hours at home. If we stay in LA, you work two days, you get to see Joey and JC and you get a nice bump for the album and the tour."

"The album's officially a hit. The tour's at 90% capacity. I hate TV. You know? Sing the song eighty times and you're on screen for two minutes total. Half the audience thinks you're a whore and the other half doesn't even notice you." Justin takes the thread he's worked out and pulls it into little pieces.

"The jury's voted on whether you're a whore, Justin, you're guilty. Those people aren't going to buy your album anyway. And it's not the other half that doesn't even notice; there are people who will notice. Plus, you know, after this tour, there'll be a break and it's nice to keep your face out there. Along with the money, which is always nice." Lance taps his book but doesn't open it. It's a different one. Industrial revolution over, now it's some gray book about a parrot.

Justin thinks he could make this into an argument. Point out that Lance gets some of this money, because the structure of his contract means Lance only gets his percentage from this tour's receipts and this album's sales. Justin doesn't want an argument. But Justin's twenty-five, about to be twenty-six, and it's his life. He looks up and says, "One day. Why is it two days?"

Lance smiles. "I'll make it one day." Lance picks up his book and his pen. "You go get food or something, man, you're too skinny. People'll talk." Lance winks so Justin knows it's a joke.

The filming takes one day. Justin calls Brit from the side of the stage when he remembers that she used to date one of the actors. She tells him the actor had a very small penis. Lance charms the fuck out of the director, maybe even sleeps with him at the party after the shoot's done. Justin's pretty sure Lance and Ted have some sort of arrangement on the side as well. Which is one way to deal with a break up, Justin supposes.

He tells Joey about it over brunch. Joey says, "It wasn't a quid pro quo, of course." Joey grins and pours syrup on his waffle. They're at some out of the way diner in the Valley, Joey's favorite. "I mean, I bet he slept with the guy, but let's be honest, the guy was hot."

"I didn't think it was some kind of deal. Just, you know."

Joey says, "I think six weeks is sufficient time after a break up to get back to meaningless sex. Cause I know he didn't get laid when he was hanging out with me or C."

Justin shrugs. "I don't care, man, I was just sayin'."

"Not making sure he's sufficiently upset after breaking things off with your Chris?"

Justin frowns. "God, like we all weren't counting the days on that one. They'll both be happier. Those last six months were fucking torture, to us, at least. They were just making each other miserable at the end."

Joey says, "That happens a lot." He neatly divided his waffle in two and finished exactly half and he lays his fork on the plate. "I mean, never making it work." Joey signals for the check. "I'm glad they broke up, too. Like with you and Brit at the end, it was just kind of a relief."

They walk out and get in Joey's car. Joey says, "So, how's your mom?"

"She's fine. Getting better." Justin looks out the window. Lot of that lately, he thinks.

"Yeah, she's not, Justin. We all know it. She's not fine, it's making you miserable and it would probably behoove you to, you know, tell someone because it's gonna stay bad and you're just gonna explode." Joey shifts gears with an angry shove and pulls out into the road.

"Well, that's your theory." Justin closes his eyes. "I mean, there's some validity there." He actually starts laughing because it's just funny. It's ridiculous. It's funny that they're all doing so well and Justin, Lance, Chris, they're all fucking miserable right now. Joey, too, because Justin's pretty sure Kelly isn't living with him right now and he won't talk about her. Joey stops talking about Kelly when they're apart, and this time he has a tired set to his mouth as he never ever mentions her. Joey's quiet, too, so he's definitely unhappy. Maybe even JC is unhappy but Justin'll find that out tonight.

Joey starts laughing. "God, man, you must be so fucked. No mom, no Trace, no Johnny, really." He's still laughing and Justin doesn't think it's mean, it's just true.

Justin hangs out on Joey's set for a few hours and watches people drift by. He used to go crazy with nothing to do. This tour, he doesn't mind so much. He has one thing he wants to do and he can't. So now he can sit for hours and just watch other people. It's distracting.

Lance drives up with Briahna to pick up Justin. He tries to pass Briahna back to Joey. She clings to Lance. He grins at her and kisses her nose and then she clings to Joey. Justin sits in the car while Lance and Joey talk, laughing and poking at each other, for five minutes. Justin picks up Lance's book. Not the parrot one. This one is called "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The title sounds familiar. It's a pretty battered paperback edition. Justin looks up and they're still talking, so he opens the book.

He flips quickly, feels like a child sneaking through his parents' bedroom. On page 67, Lance's underlined: "Although she seemed expansive and cordial, she had a solitary character and an impenetrable heart."

Lance walks toward the car so Justin puts the book down.

JC looks tan even though Justin knows he hasn't left the studio in days. The first thing JC does is ask about Justin's mom. Then JC starts talking about the latest song he's finished and Lance rolls his eyes behind JC's back. Justin says, "Oh, Lance is really impressed."

JC turns around and shoves Lance, laughing. "God, you never change."

Lance winces. "I do, too."

Justin says, "Okay, weekly meeting of the girly girls is over there, people. Let's get drinks and enjoy this time, shall we?"

They sit in the back of the club and Lance says something to the bodyguards so no one bothers them but the staff. JC talks about his album a little more, argues with Justin about some of the staging on Justin's tour and barely drinks at all.

When they decided on the long hiatus, the one with no end in sight, JC couldn't stop talking about his next solo album. He waited until they'd decided for sure and then he would babble about it to any of them, it was his only topic of conversation.

Or maybe that's just the way Justin remembers it. The last half of that tour is a blur to Justin in some ways. The big gay second leg, Joey said once. The second leg when everyone had admitted to themselves that there wouldn't be a third one or a new one for a very very long time.

Justin wonders if they were all just running away from each other and clinging to each other at the same time in some mass neurosis. Chris and Lance got together, Justin was sneaking off to screw Nick Carter every chance he got. And Joey rolled his eyes as he called it the big gay second leg, even though he and JC were fucking each other every night and sometimes in the quiet room before shows. Back then, Justin thought at least Chris and Lance seemed to be starting a relationship. Justin barely talked to Nick, even with all the fucking.

JC's last solo album, the one he couldn't shut up about on that tour was the big disco concept album. It did pretty okay. Now JC grins and says, "Okay, so that's that. I think my album will be good and I think you've got too many dancers in those last three songs in the second half of the set. To sum up."

Lance says, "Well, I agree on point one and not on point two. Which I've already said."

JC laughs and butts his head against Lance's shoulder. "You look good." He's looking at Lance.

"I looked bad before?"

"Man, you looked like death warmed over." JC is petting Lance's shoulder.

"I don't think, I think I just looked serious. I'm allowed to be serious." Lance pushes his glasses up again.

"Maybe if you ditched the glasses. Do you even need them?" Justin takes a sip of drink. He's on his third; JC is still on his first.

Lance frowns. "Frankly, yes. Your eyesight does get worse, you know, as you get older."

"Not mine," JC says.

"Fine, mine." Lance keeps frowning.

"Mine, too," Justin says, because it feels like they're on the edge of a stupid argument or Lance getting really pissed.

JC cocks his head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I have to wear my contacts all the time now. Even on stage and everywhere." Justin watches Lance as he relaxes slightly.

Lance leans back against the cushions and says to JC, "So, you seeing anyone?"

JC blushes and looks down. "Maybe. I'm mostly in the studio, you know."

Justin pokes JC's arm. "Maybe? Who's the maybe?"

"Just some actress. She's nice. She's, like, thirty-eight, but she's really cool." JC grins and changes the subject. So, one for five, Justin thinks. Not that being with someone is a mark of happiness, but JC's definitely happy, actress or not.

*

Lance wears his glasses every day now. He reads a book a week, five books in the five weeks he's been managing Justin. When they're done, he puts them in his suitcase. Justin thinks he ships the books back to his house in Orlando because Justin's looking for a pair of socks in Lance's suitcase and he doesn't see any of the books Lance's finished.

Justin watches Lance all the time. It's been years since they were in such constant contact and even then, Justin didn't pay too much attention. There were so many people to try to understand and figure out, Justin trusted the guys implicitly and never watched them like this. But now, Lance is twenty-seven, he works two hours a day on his real estate business, the other twenty-two for Justin and he's the only person Justin sees every day that he trusts.

After his first week of the tour, Lance asked Justin when he worked out. Justin just shrugged and Lance said that Justin should join him in the mornings. So they work out every weekday morning, in hotels or the venue. Justin hadn't actually forgotten that Lance was incredibly competitive, but he's reminded every day. And Justin's no slouch in that department. Every day, it's who can press more, who can up the intensity more on the treadmill, who does more crunches. Justin thinks it's another manipulation. Lance thinks Justin will be happier or more stable if he's in better shape, if he's exercising more than just the show and the rehearsals. But he doesn't out and out say it; he just makes sure Justin does it. Justin doesn't resent it; it feels like love in a way. Like someone who cares enough to make him do things.

Lance is still in great shape, astronaut shape, Justin thinks. He's careful with his body, for all their pushing and competing, Lance isn't about to get injured. They both wear headphones for their music and Justin doesn't know what Lance is listening to these days.

Lance talks to Joey every day, JC more than twice a week. He never calls Chris. Lance is a fast typist and he doesn't play computer games any more.

Lance is a really good manager. He's right about the TV appearance. People start talking about Justin's appearance right after he films it, and there's a brief snippet on the stupid nightly entertainment shows and a resulting bump in album sales.

Three weeks before the tour ends, Justin's mom doesn't call. He stays up until two a.m. and there's nothing. Justin doesn't call her because he might wake her up. She's told him over and over that she wouldn't mind if he did, but it's something Justin would never do. He could call his dad, but he doesn't want to be an interruption. It must be something bad. He won't let himself think about it. He tosses and turns and reaches for his phone. He puts the phone back. He just needs to wait.

He falls asleep somehow because Lance is waking him up. Lance sleeps on the bus, in a big bunk while Justin has the bed in the back. Lance is in his face, Lance looks groggy and unshaven.

Lance says, "Paul, it's Paul on the phone."

Justin backs up against the headboard and starts to cry. He just can't, he won't hear it. Lance is there next to him, his hand on Justin's face.

Lance strokes Justin's cheek. He says, "I wouldn't, Justin, I wouldn't. I wouldn't just hand you the phone, understand? And it won't be that, it won't, you're not going to get that call, you're not."

Justin hiccups and takes the phone. So it's okay. Lance says it's not the worst, so Justin feels not as hysterical. Lance sits next to Justin on the bed and rubs his back while Justin talks to his dad.

It's not good news, but it's not surprising. Justin's mom is exhausted, dehydrated and she has to go into the hospital for a few days. Justin's dad says she'll be fine; it's just a little setback.

When they're done talking Justin closes the phone and puts his head on his knees. Lance says, "You've got time. You know, we can go back to Memphis tomorrow. I'll set it up."

Justin nods. He lays back on the bed and tugs at his covers. Lance starts to get up and Justin grabs his hand. "Please?" Lance gets in next to him.

Lance gets Justin on the earliest flight to Memphis. He doesn't fly out himself for another two hours because he has to cancel things. Not shows, but radio things and one TV appearance. Justin doesn't care. He calls his dad and he calls Brit because she was supposed to come by for lunch and now he'll be in Memphis and she'll be St. Louis.

*

"So she said she likes my hair." Justin sniffles and wipes his nose with his hand. Lance pats his arm. "I keep forgetting to get a haircut."

Lance says, "That's sweet." Lance hands Justin a handkerchief.

"She looked really tired. You know?" Justin leans against the wall and blows his nose. "This fucking sucks."

"I know." Lance crosses his arms.

"It's just, fuck. She's sick and I can't do anything and I have no fucking idea what to do without her and she's just sick now." Justin sinks to the floor and covers his face.

Lance rubs Justin's neck. "Justin." Lance hugs him and then says, "Look, I'll get your dad. We don't need to leave now."

Justin shakes his head. "No, it's fine. Visiting hours are over, I don't wanna tire her out and I promised I'd go home and make dinner for Dad. I can go see my brothers and Lisa and my dad." Justin stands up. "I'm sick of being such a fucking wuss."

Justin's still sniffling as they walk out of the hospital. The parking lot is full and Justin stops to remember where he parked. Then there's a flash right in his face and he blinks, puts up his hand. Lance starts swearing and when Justin opens his eyes, some tall skinny guy is pushing Lance. The guy has a digital camera in his other hand.

It happens like another flash of the camera. Lance shoves back. The guy says, "Fuck you, Bass." Lance glares and then punches him in the shoulder, just like that and Justin steps back. He backs away because the guy is lurching, Lance's eyes are thin slits and Justin can't believe this is happening.

The guy drops the camera and Lance picks it up, throws it on the ground. It makes a cracking sound and bounces a little. Lance stamps on it. The guy lunges at Lance again and Lance punches him again, in the stomach. The guy falls down and Justin just stares. He's never seen Lance throw a punch before. The guy struggles up and Lance stamps on the camera again and again until it breaks and splits and there's nothing on the ground but smashed plastic. Justin turns around and walks to the car, he sees the car.

Lance has the keys. He's one beat behind Justin and the doors beep as Justin steps up. He gets in as just as Lance does. They peel out of the parking lot. Justin says, "What the fuck was that?"

"He works for the fucking Enquirer, man. He, I saw him once, Chris bitched him out for taking pictures of Taylor." Lance is speeding and Justin grips the armrest.

"So you beat him up? Dude, did you just leave the scene of the crime?"

"He was fine. He stood up, he was yelling at me."

"Yeah, you fucking punched him. Dude, he's gonna call the police." Lance grips the steering wheel and Justin can see where his knuckles are cracked, his hands red. Justin says, "He's going to call the police. This is like, our speeding getaway car or something." Justin starts laughing hysterically. "Fuck, getaway car. Christ, you beat him up."

Lance doesn't say anything. He's staring straight ahead. He takes a turn way too fast. "Okay," Justin says, "you should let me drive. You're all way wound tight."

Lance says, "Get me my phone. It's in my bag."

Justin covers his mouth and then says, "Dude, no. You're driving like a fucking maniac. I am not giving you a cell phone."

"Give me my fucking cell phone, I want to call my lawyer."

"Or you'll punch me, too?" Justin can't stop laughing. "I'll call him. Wait, doesn't your lawyer handle real estate and corporate shit?"

"It's a firm. I'm sure he can refer me to someone at the firm who knows something about criminal law." Lance waits for Justin to get the phone out and then says, "Speed dial, it's number 3."

"Who's one and two?"

"Justin, dial." Lance brakes too suddenly and the tires squeal.

"I am, and it's ringing." Justin bites his lip so he doesn't giggle. This is so fucking ridiculous. Lance the terminator manager or something. Justin gets a receptionist and he says, "I'm calling on behalf of Lance Bass."

Lance's lawyer, Brad something or other, says, "Lance?"

"No, it's Justin, Lance is driving. Lance needs to talk to a criminal lawyer, he just beat the shit out of some photographer and we're speeding away in our getaway car."

Brad sputters and says, "Is this a joke?"

"I wish." Brad puts Justin on hold. Justin says, "I think he's getting someone."

Lance says, "I didn't beat the shit out of him. And this isn't a getaway car, for fuck's sake. He was in the hospital parking lot."

A woman comes on the phone. "This is Lacey Bayard. Is this Mr. Bass?"

"Mr. Bass is driving, I'm not giving him the phone."

"Make him pull over."

Justin covers the phone and says, "She says pull over. She sounds really serious. I bet she's a great lawyer, man."

Lance snorts and pulls over. Justin hands him the phone as soon the car is turned off. It's the road leading to Justin's house, so it's not that busy. Justin listens as Lance tells what happened twice. He starts in on the third time and Justin gets out of the car. He leans against the door and wishes he smoked. After ten minutes, Lance opens the door and says, "I'm done. She's flying out from Atlanta, she'll meet me at the house in five hours."

Justin gets back in the car. "What do you do until then?"

"Sit tight. Don't talk to anyone. I need to call Howie and my mom." Lance frowns and they pull into the driveway.

"Howie and your mom aren't anyone?"

"She meant the press or the cops." Lance steps aside so Justin can open the door.

Justin says, "I'm gonna call my dad."

*

Lance's criminal lawyer is a really tall black woman. WNBA tall, Justin thinks. Lacey brings her associate, a pretty blond woman who looks like Emily Proctor and has the same accent as the actress. It's like a Lifetime series or something.

Lacey slams down the remote for the TV and says, "There's a tape?"

Justin nods. He's sitting in his own living room, petting his dog. Justin says, "You saw. Some guy got it all, he wanted to film his wife giving birth. Isn't the tape a good thing? I mean, you can totally see that the guy shoved Lance first."

Lacey frowns. "It doesn't help." She stomps out of the room.

Justin makes grilled cheese sandwiches. Thanks to the tape, they've already got cameras in the driveway. Lots of phone calls back and forth and Justin figures his role right now is to just sit tight. And make grilled cheese sandwiches. Justin's dad decides to stay at the hospital. Justin tells his mom over the phone what happened. She says, "Good for him. What a bastard. I mean, the photographer. He deserved it."

Justin snorts. "I don't think that's gonna work as a defense." He promises to call her with more updates.

He makes five with just cheese and five with ham. You never can tell who's a vegetarian or who doesn't eat pork. He brings them into the dining room where Lacey, the Emily Proctor girl and Lance are talking. There are pictures of Justin's family all over the room but it still somehow looks like a war room. Justin puts the sandwiches down and says, "I can get drinks, too. Anybody want?"

Almost Emily Proctor is the only one who smiles. She says, "Sure, I'd like some coffee. Thank you so much."

Justin swallows and watches Lance take a sandwich. "That one has ham. The blue plate has ham. In case you don't eat meat or something." Almost Emily Proctor smiles again and takes one of the cheese only sandwiches. "Is Lance going to jail? Or, you don't know yet?"

Lacey taps her pen on the table. "Probably not. And I'd like some coffee, too."

Justin rubs Lance's shoulder and goes back to the kitchen to make coffee. He grabs the really expensive brand he knows Lance likes.

In the morning, Lacey says they've "worked out this part. You stay here," she says, gesturing at Justin, "The rest of us will be gone for two or three hours. When we get back, you and Lance will be free to leave to finish the tour. Not the country, but we'll work everything out."

Justin thinks, he's already finished the overseas dates. Lance comes downstairs in a suit, not one of the cool ones, the one he'd wear to an unexpected funeral or something. He looks older and tired. Lance rubs his hair and Justin can see his knuckles are still red. Justin gives him a hug and Lance is tense under his arms. Then all three of them leave. Justin sits on the couch for a while. He wants to leave, see his brothers, his daddy. He thinks he'll have time tomorrow, but tonight, it feels like desertion. He reaches to turn on the TV and his phone rings.

"Is Lance going to jail?" Chris sounds choked.

"No, Lacey the lawyer thinks he won't." Justin waits.

Chris says, "Okay." After a minute, he says, "Good." Then he asks about Justin's mother.

*

Lance sits on the steps with his suitcase next to him. Lacey is standing next to him, talking quietly, ticking points off on her fingers, but Justin can't hear. He turns to Almost Emily Proctor and says, "Hey, can I ask you some questions here?"

She nods. Justin says, "Um, I never actually caught your name, I'm sorry."

She blushes. She's pretty, really pretty. She says, "Norris Ransom."

Justin nods. "That's a nice name."

"Norris is my mother's maiden name. It's unusual, at least." She rolls her eyes.

"Must have been fun at age five," Justin says and slouches a little. He must be a foot taller than her, and she's wearing heels. She's pretty and smart, Justin likes that in a girl. It's not that different from what he likes in a guy, but she's standing right there. He thinks she's probably twenty-six, twenty-seven and it hits him with a rush they're almost the same age. He stutters, "I mean, Norris isn't the easiest name, I guess."

"Well, no one called me that then. But, um, you know, not very professional."

"What?"

She blushes again. "Daisy. Everyone called me Daisy, even my mother. But I don't use that when I'm working."

Justin smiles. "Okay. I promise not to tell." He sits down on his duffel bag so she's not craning her neck to look up at him. He says, "So Lance is free to go now?"

"Yes. He'll have to be back here for the rest of the legal stuff in three weeks. But the tour will be over then, right? Did you want more details than that?"

Justin shakes his head. "Just, he's not going to jail, right?"

"Lacey's very good, I think it will be fine." She pats his arm and smiles at him. She walks over to Lacey and Lance. Lance stands up and then they're ready to go.

They sit together on the plane out to Chicago. Lance opens his laptop and starts typing as soon as he can. Justin says, "How you doing?"

"Fine." Lance doesn't look up.

"No, seriously, man. I mean, you know."

"Yes, Justin, I know. I'm fine. My summer's kind of shot to hell, my mother almost yelled at me, and my lawyer is telling me I can't leave the country. I now have a criminal attorney, so really, I feel really special." Lance stops typing and clasps his hands together. He sighs and goes back to typing. "I have this stuff Howie sent me. I'm pretty behind."

"Okay, then." Justin leans against the window and closes his eyes. "I'm just gonna sleep. You wake me up when we land."

"Fine."

When Justin wakes up, he's covered with one of those blue blankets the airline has, tucked tight around his arms. Lance's laptop is stowed and Lance has one hand over his face. Justin says, "Hey, Lance."

Lance says, "Yeah?"

"You have a shitty right hook. I meant to tell you earlier, but you know, the seven hundredth time I saw the video on ET, it was just really clear."

Lance puts his hand down and smirks at Justin. "Yeah, well, it worked fine, didn't it? I had a TKO." Justin almost laughs.

*

Justin is just tired. Three weeks, two weeks and then one week to go. It's just torture and he keeps thinking, one foot in front of the other. Lance's cancelled a lot of the radio interviews Justin had, because Justin asked. He can't talk anymore, can't push some stupid album that he doesn't care about anymore. He doesn't. He doesn't care about the tour; he just wants to go home. He misses his mother more than he can say.

Six days left. Lance is sitting on the bed when Justin wakes up. Justin mumbles something and turns on his side. Lance says, "So, there's this article in US, wanna hear?"

Justin says, "No." He flings the covers off and hopes he hits Lance. He doesn't. He walks to the bathroom and realizes he's naked, so, no, he didn't sleep in his underwear last night. He doesn't care about that either, Lance has seen it all before in changing rooms and the like. He starts the shower and drags his bag into the bathroom.

Lance comes in the bathroom and leans against the counter. He starts reading from the article. "Sources in the DA's office say they plan to throw the book at Bass." Lance sighs. Justin steps in the shower and rubs his hair. He peeks out from behind the curtain and looks at Lance. Faded shorts, white socks, gold-rimmed glasses. Justin turns up the hot water and hopes he'll make Lance's glasses steam over. He really doesn't care about anything right now.

Lance steps closer to the shower and says loudly, "But this is the good part of the article. Snippet. Whatever. It's pretty short. So they say, 'Bass has unlikely support from many quarters in Hollywood.' Do you wanna hear about the celebrities who think I was completely justified? They want to buy me lunch. Mind you, none of them have actually contacted me or anything. But still. It's a nice list. Wanna hear?"

Justin says, "No. God, shut up."

Lance says, "Just trying to distract you or something. I'm not having the best day, you know."

When Justin is showered and dressed he comes out of the bathroom and Lance is sitting on his bed. "I'm sorry your day is sucking, man."

Lance shrugs. "Whatever, I brought it all on myself." Lance nudges his glasses up on nose. "I talked to Joey. So, you know, I'll just make myself scarce tomorrow and the day after, okay?"

"Why?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Of course. Of course, he talked to Joey and didn't even tell you. Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise or something." Lance stands up and says, "Chris is coming to hang with you. He gets in tomorrow night. In time for the show."

Justin grins. "Cool. Um, that's gonna be awkward, right?"

"No, it'll be peachy." Lance walks out and slams the door.

*

Chris is big and smiling. Skinnier than the last time Justin saw him, and he looks really good. He looks like the best thing in the world. He hugs Justin twice in the airport and then again at the hotel. He was visiting Justin's mom just two days ago. Justin can't stop grinning. He doesn't see Lance once all day until after the concert. There's a photographer backstage from the radio station. Chris hugs Justin and then Lance is there on the other side. Lance laughs a little while the photographer is there and when the photographer leaves, Lance is gone again.

Chris comes back to Justin's hotel room and perches on the bed. "So, just, what, a few more shows?"

"Two shows, four days."

"Man, good for you. I didn't think you make it." Chris stands up and pours himself a glass of water. "I mean, it must be really hard without your mom."

Justin nods. "But it's been okay. I mean, it hasn't. But I think the shows have been good."

"It was a good show." Chris downed half his glass. "But. I just mean, you've never really toured without your mom and Trace. You're used to more of a support network."

Justin shrugs. "It's been okay. I mean, Lance is here."

"Yeah." Chris goes into the bathroom and closes the door. He comes out a few minutes later. "So that's working good, Lance? Beating up photographers, taking care of you?"

Justin closes his eyes and lies back on the bed. "He's fine. Come on, man."

"What? I'm not saying anything."

Justin snorts. "Come on, can we not talk about Lance a little? Like, just, he's my friend, he's my manager and sadly, he's your ex-boyfriend and it just seems, you know, right now, not something we're gonna talk about like this, okay?"

"Oh, so all things Lance are off the table? Does that include Lance-related subjects? Can I talk about space exploration, country music or are those verboten as well?"

Justin sits up. "Come on, man. You wanna talk about how you're all suffering and shit, I'm there for you. But I'm not gonna sit tight for you bitching and making snide remarks about Lance. Okay?"

Chris frowns and rubs his chin. Then he says, "Fine. But I'm not gonna talk about my pain and suffering."

"Okay, me neither." Justin grins. "Did you see that Lakers game?"

*

Justin goes with Chris to the airport when he leaves. "It was great seeing you, man."

"I had to come, I hadn't seen any of the shows on this leg. It was a responsibility thing." Chris leans over and hugs Justin. "You're a strong man, you're strong, you know?"

Justin hugs Chris back and doesn't say anything. He doesn't even sniffle.

When he gets back to the venue, Lance is sitting in a front row seat, laptop open, typing away. Justin sits down next to him and taps his shoulder. "Hey, you. How are you?"

Lance shrugs.

Justin says, "I was, just, you know. That was nice of you. To show up for the pictures."

"Don't want to start rumors." Lance keeps typing. Justin's convinced that Lance doesn't really type anything; he just does it to look busy. Justin cranes his neck and tries to read over Lance's shoulder. He sees the phrase "location price differentials" and decides Lance actually is working. Real estate stuff.

"Well, still, it was nice. I mean, have you seen him since the big break-up?"

Lance stops typing and stares straight ahead. "Justin. Drop it."

"Okay. Are you excited about the last show?"

"Imminent unemployment followed by whatever sort of punishment the DA decides for me? Oooooooh, boy, can't wait." Lance starts typing again.

Justin looks at Lance's profile. He says, "You've really made a difference. You know? I couldn't've done this without you. I'd be, like, home, being sued, with my career all fucked up. Seriously. You did really good."

Lance smiles. "Thank you."

*

One last show and it's really good. It's in Memphis and his mom is there, right in the front row. It's the best show of the tour. Before the show, Lance talked to all the crew, it was a really good speech. Justin's pretty sure all the crew likes Lance more than him. Justin's also pretty sure he was a miserable motherfucker for the last ten weeks and most of the people who worked for him are even happier than he is that this is over.

It makes him feel bad. He hates leaving a bad impression, and more, he hates that he made the whole thing so shitty for other people. There's nothing he can do now, but he approved the bonuses Lance thought of giving to everyone. For doing a good job when Justin was barely there.

But now it's over and he goes home from the show with his mom and his dad. His mom hugs him tight and he falls asleep in her lap in the car.

He sleeps in the next day but after that he spends all day with his mother. He drives her to her appointment, check up and tests, and waits for her in the lobby. She comes out tired and pale and he half carries her to the car. It's exactly where Justin wants to be.

A week later, Lance comes by for lunch. "I have to be in court today." Things got delayed from the three weeks Lacey talked about last time because of the plea bargaining.

Justin nods. "I know. Lacey called. She says she doesn't need me."

"I'm pleading."

"For your life?" Justin grins.

"Guilty. Guilty to three misdemeanors. Instead of all the shit they charged me with." Lance doesn't smile at all.

"Do you already know what you're getting?"

"The joy of a plea bargain." Lance plays with his fork and ignores the mashed potatoes and peas Justin made for him. "Uh, probation for a year, twenty thousand dollar fine, one hundred and fifty hours of community service and, for shit and giggles, an anger management course."

Justin sits back. "Seriously? That's fucking harsh. Is that what most people get?"

"No. Most people don't get shit for a first offense bullshit assault charge. But I'm famous and I'm on tape." Lance frowns. He eats a bite of the mashed potatoes.

"Do you have to pick up trash on the highway or do you just get to visit sick children?"

"Well, you beat people up and the state of Tennessee doesn't like you hanging out with kids." Lance eats more mashed potatoes and doesn't touch the peas. "On the other hand, seniors. Seniors get to fend for themselves around me."

"Oh, cool. Senior citizen stuff." Justin smiles. He really can't stop.

"Yes, four days a week, six hours a day at a state run senior citizens home. And on the fifth day I deliver food to housebound people. Another six hours. I'll be done in five weeks." Lance looks up. "Why are you smiling?"

Justin grins. "Doctor's appointment today."

"Yeah?" Lance smiles. "Starts with an r?"

"You know it." Lance raises his hand and Justin slaps it. "Remission, baby. Not completely out of the woods, but definitely, absolutely, much better."

Lance says, "That's fantastic."

Justin says, "You have to be in Memphis for five weeks?"

"Six." Lance carefully separates his peas from the mashed potatoes.

"You wanna stay here? I mean, pity you don't own some property around here --"

"We do." Lance sighs. "We have this, it's a building downtown. We bought it when the builders went into bankruptcy. There's this white elephant of a luxury condo on the top floor. I'm gonna live there until I'm done and then we'll subdivide it, make it something we can actually sell."

"Oh, cool." Justin watches Lance eat. "You want me to come to court anyway? Like, you know, support you? Also, man, you could have just told me you don't like peas or something."

Lance looks down. "The mashed potatoes are more comforting." Lance crushes the peas with his fork. "I would, it would be nice. My parents are flying in, too. You know, because my mom's so excited about seeing me sentenced in court. I mean, I bet she'll take a lot of pictures and put them in a scrapbook."

Justin pats Lance's hand. "Dude, it's okay. She knows, she knows you're sorry and she knows how it's not something you'd ever do again." Justin can't even exactly believe Lance did it a first time. They used to get pissy with each other, years ago, all of them and sometimes punches were thrown but not Lance. And in the grip of tour fever, never so cold and vicious. Justin doesn't think about it because it's a little scary.

Lance nods. "Yeah. I guess, I guess mostly, it's just, she's never really been disappointed in me like this." He keeps his eyes on his mashed potatoes. He only eats a few more bites. Maybe Lance thinks it's a little scary, too.

*

Justin goes to see Trace at the bank. He can't believe Trace has an office and a job. Trace waves him to the chair and spreads his arms. "Look at my office, dude!"

"It's great." It is nice. Justin knows Trace only got the job because of Justin's dad, but Trace has kept the job, so that doesn't really matter anymore. "What's up, man?"

"So much shit, man. You know, I'm trying to get Marah to let me have Lara, you know? Because I think, Candee needs her sister. And me and Cherise can totally give her a better home than Marah." Trace leans forward and taps the planner on his desk.

Trace has two kids. He never seemed to care that much about Lara, but after Candee was born and Trace decided to marry Cherise, he's changed his mind. Justin thinks it's a really good thing. But he misses having Trace around. He nods at the right points in Trace's long narrative about lawyers and support payments. Then he says, "Man, you think you'll ever, you know, take a break, come out with me again, on the road and stuff?"

Trace shrugs. "Maybe. It would be totally cool, man." Trace tugs at his tie. "But it's like, you know, that's stuff easier for you. It's what you do. I do this now and I've got Cherise and Candee and Lara. It's like, it was super cool, man. But."

"No, that's cool. I wouldn't want take you away from all this." Justin grins.

Trace smiles. "I like all this. I didn't think I would, but you know, if this all being grown-up means, I can handle it."

Justin nods again. They make plans for dinner, for Trace to come by with all his girls to see Justin's mom. Lots of plans.

*

Justin goes over to Lance's condo for the first time three weeks after Lance is sentenced. There's next to no furniture. A big bed in the bedroom that Justin can see from the living room, a couch, bookcases. Nice entertainment center, of course. Justin slaps down the paper on Lance's couch. "You saw this, right?"

Lance frowns. "Yes. I made the paper. Two seconds after they took that picture, that old lady threw up on me." Lance stretches out his shirt and just looks at it. Justin notices two stains without even looking hard.

"So. But you're meeting people, right? Learning and growing?"

"It's not a fucking Lifetime movie, Justin. There's no bright shiny 'oooooh, look at the famous millionaire learn all about life.' I go there, I schlep things, I get ordered around, I play cards with old people. And then once a week I push carts and try to avoid oxygen tanks. It's really, it sucks."

"How's the anger management course?" Justin grins at Lance.

"Oh, it's great. I loooooooove it. It sucks, Justin. This whole thing sucks." Lance sighs. "Also, JC called and he asked Julie to move in with him or something. He's so whipped on her. So, how's your mom? Pretty great now, huh? She looked good yesterday. Like, really good. Like, we're touring Germany good." Lance grins.

"You scoping out my mom, Bass?"

"No. I'm just saying." Lance takes the paper and tosses it on the floor.

"You gonna just leave that there?" Justin stands up and puts the paper on Lance's dining table.

"I wasn't. I was going to pick it up." Lance looks at his shirt. "Four people threw up on me today."

Justin stands by the table and wishes Lance had more chairs. He says, "My mom is feeling a lot better."

Lance nods. "It's good."

"Yeah. She's decided to take up gardening."

"Good for her. My mom loves it." Lance gets up and walks to his bedroom. Justin follows him and watches Lance strip off his shirt and throw it in a laundry basket. Lance looks up. "Look, I know it's not my business anymore because our contract is over and done, but, are you, um, are you writing? Do you have some time off planned? I was just thinking today about that. In between four different people eating wheat who shouldn't have."

"Yeah. That's the thing. My mom's decided to take up gardening. She's just, she's feeling her age, I think, and recovering from being so sick. She says she doesn't want to be my manager anymore." Justin sits down on Lance's bed. The bedroom has no furniture besides the bed. Not even an end table.

"She's only forty-five, forty-six. That's not so old."

Justin looks down at his hands. "She doesn't want to travel, she doesn't want to work the hours. I think, you know, she was really sick. She wants to be home now."

"Oh." Lance sits down next to Justin. "Well, you still have Johnny."

Justin nods. "But. Uh. Did you have plans? I thought, this worked out well. We could, you know, do it permanently. You, managing me. I'll be a lot easier to work with now."

Lance looks away. "Huh. I wasn't expecting that."

"We can do up a new contract. You know, you can get more money. Whatever. Up your percentage." Justin bites his lip. He really thought Lance would jump at the chance.

Lance stands up. "Yeah. We could. I guess. I hadn't really thought about it. I haven't been making many plans lately. I mean, I don't have anything on the horizon. I guess, I'm trying not to be too optimistic."

"Dream big, you've got me now. You're really good at managing me. You rock at it."

Lance is looking out the window. Justin can see the whole city from here and it's pretty at night. Lance says, "I am good at it. But. You know, I'm not your mom or Trace or Johnny."

"Well, yeah. But we work together well. I didn't think you wouldn't want to do it."

Lance shrugs. "It's just. I guess it's not what I pictured doing. I'm just surprised." He turns around and smiles. "You'd up my percentage?"

Justin grins. "Yeah. Well, you have to talk to my lawyer and you have to talk to Johnny. But we can make it worth your while."

Lance sits down next to Justin and grips Justin's knee. "Oh yeah, we'll do all that. And you and me are gonna work some magic, you'll be a really big star. Bigger than now. It'll be good."

Justin nods. "It will be."

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