NOTES AND DISCLAIMERS: Could not be more made up. For entertainment only. Happy Birthday, Kelly!



THE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF WHAT IFS


PART 2, 1970s.
*NSYNC: Chris Kirkpatrick (b. October 17, 1947), Joshua "JC" Chasez (b. August 8, 1952), Joseph "Joey" Fatone, Jr. (b. January 28, 1953), Lance Bass (b. May 4, 1955) and Justin Timberlake (b. January 31, 1957).

Chris Kirkpatrick drifted through the late 60s in a series of bands that went nowhere, signed to labels that ripped him off and ended up in Los Angeles like Don Henley, Glenn Frey and others convinced LA would be the place they finally found success. Kirkpatrick started hanging around a local LA club, hoping for work as a backup singer when he instead met Justin Timberlake. Timberlake, the stepson of the club's owner, had chucked a promising career as a child actor at age 13 because he wanted to focus on music. Timberlake's typical MO was to corner anyone he found interesting looking and try to convince them to form a band with him. Kirkpatrick wasn't so sure about the 14 year old, but he was sure he wanted to be in a band.

Kirkpatrick passed Timberlake's audition of sorts by demanding Timberlake audition for him. 'The boy could sing, fuck, so I decided it would be a good idea. Of course, I also thought he was sixteen because I couldn't imagine why a 14 year old would be in a bar,' Kirkpatrick told Rolling Stone. The next night Timberlake brought JC Chasez, a friend he'd met in his acting days, and Kirkpatrick was convinced the band was a good idea and one that would work1. Chasez suggested a friend he'd been in a band with, Joey Fatone, who could play the drums. Within a week the nascent band had written three songs and lined up one gig, at Timberlake's stepfather club.

By that first gig, they'd added Jason Watkins on bass and played to a small crowd. Over the next month, the crowd grew and the band attracted the attention of a number of labels. They also attracted the attention of David Geffen, then just rising in power and money. Geffen had already signed the Eagles and sent them to hone their chops in Colorado. He did the same with *NSYNC. The band's name had come from a girlfriend of Fatone's who practiced numerology.

*NSYNC played at a few clubs around Denver for six months. At each club, they lied about Timberlake's age. 'I was eighteen, man, eighteen. I was eighteen for four years, like some women are thirty for ten years,' Timberlake told Rolling Stone. They did hone their chops and quickly realized after one month that Watkins was not the bassist they needed. 'He just didn't fit. He never fit. He was too quiet until he got drunk and then he was too loud,' Kirkpatrick said. 'We paid for his plane ticket home ourselves.'

The band scrambled for a new bassist without telling Geffen. Timberlake's mother called one of Justin's old teachers and got the name of Lance Bass, a boy from Mississippi. After a quick phone conversation, Timberlake was convinced Bass was the man for the job, even at sixteen, and Kirkpatrick was drafted to persuade Bass's mother. They were successful and Timberlake's hunch was right, Bass turned out to be perfect fit.2

After six months, the band came back to LA and, as he'd done with the Eagles, Geffen signed them to Asylum Records and put them to work recording their first album. The recording went well, the only album *NSYNC would get done without debate and in fighting3.

The friendships in the band were always strong, but the pressure to get songs on the album, plus the competition between Chasez and Timberlake for leads made every successive recording a battleground. 'We got along best when we were on the road,' Fatone said. 'Off the road, it was writing and that made everybody crazy.'

By 1975, *NSYNC had recorded three albums, done three punishing tours and sold over 500,000 albums. Often pegged as the junior Eagles or imitators of the Band, *NSYNC had yet to come into their own. They were popular, but often derided by critics for their unoriginal sound. Such critical digs only heightened the competition in the studio.

Adding to the tumult, Bass in particular felt Geffen was no longer the right manager for the band. Geffen was manager and record label owner and *NSYNC, like the Eagles before them, felt shafted by Geffen's inattention. Bass felt they should move to different management and even a different label. While his arguments were persuasive, Chasez in particular resented the intrusion of what he thought of as business matters, separate from making music, into an already fractious situation.

Along with writing and critical digs and business scuffles, the band had also discovered the wonders of fame, and along with the easy women and comped drinks came cocaine. Kirkpatrick loved it the most. The others mostly dabbled, Bass the least4, but Kirkpatrick was the one who became addicted.

*NSYNC's breakthrough album, their first on Warner Bros, was the result of four months in the studio in three different states and cost over $150,000, an amazing amount at the time. The album contained an equal number of songs by Timberlake and Chasez and none from Fatone, Bass or Kirkpatrick. No Strings Attached broke sales records and for the first time won *NSYNC critical acclaim. The 1976 release made *NSYNC superstars.

They mounted a two year world tour that made them all millions and caused even more tensions in the band. More than a few biographies of the band have hinted at the causes. Rumors have swirled that Timberlake's romance with folkstress Britney Spears resulted in an unplanned pregnancy that he forced her to terminate, causing the end of their star-crossed romance. Fatone's drunken rages may have resulted in fistfights with Bass, according to one tome. (Fatone was arrested in 1978 for an altercation with folksinger Nick Carter after one of Carter's shows.) Another book has hinted that Kirkpatrick and Chasez may have had a romantic relationship.

The band has refused to comment on any of these rumors, only saying that after the 1978 tour, the band divided into two or three camps and broke up right before finishing their final studio album, Celebrity. During the first month of recording Chasez and Kirkpatrick had an argument about Kirkpatrick's cocaine use5 and for the rest of the recording, Kirkpatrick took Timberlake's side in every studio dispute. Fatone took Chasez's side and Bass ignored everyone and simply played his parts and sang what he was told to sing.

The band apparently broke up in one five-hour argument. Timberlake produced and mixed half the tracks and Chasez the other half. The finished product sold nearly as many copies as No Strings Attached, a tribute the strength of the songs and the band's image, since the band did no promotion for it and didn't tour.

The band's break-up was officially announced when the first of their two live albums was released in 1980. Timberlake gave an interview to Rolling Stone where he described the band's final arguments without providing any details of the substance. 'It was all just competition and ego. On everyone's part. I mean, mine, for sure. And I hope now that it's over we can make it all work as friends again.' As Timberlake hinted, none of the band were speaking to each other at that point. Business matters went through Bass and were conducted by fax.6

Timberlake released his first solo album in 1981, Absolute Elsewhere, two months before Chasez's solo album, Sorting Interpretations. Both were successful, though neither reached the sales that *NSYNC had. Timberlake toured and even made a video for the just launched MTV. Chasez didn't tour and never made another solo album. He moved to LA and began doing soundtrack work for TV shows and movies.

Timberlake continued his solo career with 1984's Imagined Houses and the triple platinum Heartbreak Night in 1989. He became increasingly active politically, doing benefits for the Democratic Party and gun control. Timberlake moved to Salem, OR, and married a congressional staffer for his local congresswoman in 1990, and the two had three children over the next decade (Glenn, 1991, Tracey, 1994 and Balbina, 1998).

Kirkpatrick was in and out of rehab from 1982 to 1985. Finally clean, he moved to Los Angeles and began a solo career. Kirkpatrick's quirky folk stylings won him a cult following for his ten albums since 1986.7

Chasez did soundtrack work for twelve television shows during the 1980s and early 1990s and won two Emmys for his work LA Law. He moved into movie soundtrack work in 1993 and won an Oscar for his work in 1997. He has never married. When asked about his relationship with Kirkpatrick, his neighbor in Los Angeles since 1988, Chasez said, 'We used to be super close and then we weren't and now we are again. I think, you know, that's all that's important.'

Fatone married longtime girlfriend Kelly in 1982 and fathered four children. He played drums with a number of different bands, including playing on tours with Toto and the Dan Reed Network. He retired from performing to run a restaurant in 1990, the restaurant, Fatone's in New York, has won awards and continues to attract patrons to the Lower East Side location.

Bass retired from performing when *NSYNC broke up. He concentrates on managing the band's money and since 1987, has worked as Nick Carter's manager.

Sometime in 1987, after Chasez and Kirkpatrick became friends again, the scattered members of *NSYNC all began reconciling. First Bass arranged for Carter to open for Timberlake and Timberlake and Bass started talking again. 'As long as I don't have to record an album with him,' Timberlake said, laughing. When Fatone's brother, Steve, who took numerous home movies of the band through their years together, briefly fell ill in 1988, the other four members all came out to the hospital and were in the same room without arguing for the first time in eight years.

When *NSYNC was inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame8 in 1998, the band marked the occasion with their first performance together since 1979. Fatone joked during his speech, 'We barely made it through rehearsals, man, thanks for only doing it this once.' Timberlake noted in 2000, 'We couldn't be friends again until we stopped trying to work together, that was the trick. But now we're super tight again and you just remember all the important things, the things that matter about each other.'

*NSYNC's music continues to influence generation after generation. Their mix of R&B and folk and soaring harmonies has been cited by bands as diverse as REM and Ani DiFranco. Tori Amos covered *NSYNC's song Pop on her Strange Little Girls album.

THE END AGAIN.













1. They kissed the third night they met. Chris and JC went to the Troubadour and Justin couldn't get in, only fourteen year old girls got into clubs in those days. They stumbled out at 2 am, drunk and talking about meeting Linda Ronstadt and one of the Byrds. Chris lurched against JC and threaded his hand through JC's hair right before they kissed.

JC kissed back which surprised Chris. Then JC stepped back and wiped his mouth. He said, "Fuck, we can't do this shit. I don't do this anymore."

They didn't, again, for another year.





2. "I like him, he's good." JC said.

Chris was drunk. He watched JC form the words, and ignored the sounds. He loved JC's mouth. Chris said, "Yeah?"

JC said, "You're a fucking pervert." He burst out laughing.

"I'm not. I'm not at all," Chris said. "Why did you say that?"

JC leaned over the table and stopped a few inches from Chris's face. "Stop looking at my mouth and stop looking at my crotch, man. You're hot, man, but you're not my type."

Chris leaned forward and bit JC's lip. "Says you, right now. You're lying, Chasez."

JC backed up and giggled as he walked out. Chris pushed himself up from the table and steadied himself by clinging to the back of the chair. He looked up at a noise, so many noises even though the bar was long since closed. Lance was staring at him from the back of the club. Chris said, "What you looking at, albino boy?"

Lance said, "Nothing. Nothing," and turned and left.





3. JC pulled Chris against him and kissed him hard. "We did it, man, we did it. It's, like, cosmic, like, amazing. There's gonna be an album with our names on it."

Chris blinked. "You kissed me."

"Well, yeah, man. I thought, I thought it would jinx things. Maybe. I dunno," JC lurched back and laughed. "I went to see this chick I know, she's way into astrology and she really knows things. She said, she said, I would meet the man that would change my life and then I met you so I went back and she said what I wanted would happen if I waited. If I didn't, it would all be screwed up."

"You dicked me around and said you weren't even, uh, gay, because of some chick and tea leaves?" Chris meant to be angry. But it wasn't working as JC played with his shirt and pulled at it and every few seconds Chris would see a bare sliver of skin. It was hard to be angry.

"I'm not. Okay, I guess, I think I might be a little bit what you said, but I wasn't. It wasn't tea leaves. It was astrology and you can trust that shit. Seriously." JC grinned and leaned forward, almost threw himself in Chris's arms. "We finished it and it's great and now, now, you take me back to your apartment and it'll be everything I wanted."

Chris wasn't remotely angry.





4. Chris rubbed his nose and waited for things to get better. JC walked in the room so already things were better. Chris smiled. JC threw a book against the wall and mostly Chris wondered where the book had come from. No one read anymore now that Lance and Justin were released from the strictures of school. JC said, "Do you know who he's fucking?"

Chris raised an eyebrow. He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "Justin? Justin's fucking that folksinger chick. The one who used to do that thing with that guy who was backing Neil Young. Britney something or other. Justin's fucking her. And every other lady he can find when she's not around. You're fucking me, so I don't know why you'd be asking that. But the way things are, maybe you forgot. Or maybe you decided to start referring to yourself in third person. It is third person, right? Joey's fucking everything with a pussy he can find and ..." Chris sat up. "Whoa, wait, you must mean Lance, because I do have no idea who he's fucking. Though whoever it is, it's someone with a dick. Is he fucking you?"

JC suddenly loomed over Chris. "He's fucking goddamn Nick Carter. You know Nick Carter? Late of Backstreet, the next Jackson Browne according to goddamn Rolling Stone who calls us the next Archies? They're fucking!"

Chris said, "Oh my God. Nick Carter's queer?"

JC pushed Chris back down on the bed. "Stop fucking acting like this is nothing. Stop it. Take it seriously."

Chris pulled JC on top of him. "JC, baby, you stop taking it seriously. I mean it. Who cares who Lance is fucking? You know he'll be discreet, and hell, we can all use the tension release."

JC went lax and curled up against Chris. Chris thought it was pretty lame that he got tagged with moody when his damn secret boyfriend went from livid to cuddly in five seconds. JC said, "It's just, fuck. He's this big stupid blond thing --"

Chris said, "Lance? Justin? Nick?"

JC tensed for a moment and said, "All three of them. But Nick Carter. Fucking child prodigy sensitive boy and he gets these great reviews and we never do and Lance. Lance is fucking him. I feel like everyone's against me."

"Not me, man, you're my one and only." Chris grabbed JC's ass and squeezed.

"Oh, good." JC kissed Chris and started pulling at his shirt. "Fuck, man, you're all I got. You and the music."





5. "How much have you snorted today? This week? This month? I fucking need you, you fucking fuckhead."

"Fuck you, you prima donna big nosed bitch."







6 Chris could still afford the coke and while it didn't work as well anymore, not without the cherry on top of having JC, it still worked. He lived in Pittsburgh, maybe, for a while, it was a house and his mother came by all the time. She didn't bring the girls after the first time she found his secret stash just for emergencies in the bathroom.

He read Rolling Stone religiously. Justin was in every issue and Lance's ex-boyfriend. Fat Nick, Chris said, in hotel rooms and apartments. Fat Nick, the syllables rolling off his tongue. "Maybe if you had some balls, you'd still be with Fat Nick." The last words he'd said to Lance, right before Lance hauled off and hit him. And Chris had rubbed his jaw and watched Lance yell for the first time in four years, Lance had yelled "Fuck you all, this is over."

Joey had said, "You don't get to decide that shit. You weren't there at the beginning!"

And JC had said, "I was and I do and he's right." He hadn't yelled, he'd just walked out. And then they all left and never came back. Chris had been the last to go and he thought that was probably a sign. So he'd set up a line of coke on the notes Justin had taken about which tracks they still needed to work on, snorted all of it and then left and turned out the lights.

Now he was traveling without meaning to and checking in with Johnny and getting faxes from Lance. Lance still made sure they were all rich and it was the only thing that gave Chris hope. The faxes meant Lance still loved them so Chris only used his razors to shave.





7 JC's studio had no windows and Chris wasn't surprised. There was a large screen with a sun drenched beach and palm trees and two actors talking about love. JC fast-forwarded and rewound and plunked away on his keyboard. Chris had been standing in the doorway for ten minutes before JC looked up, at the screen and not at Chris and said, "You're here."

Chris watched the scene play out, the girl wanted the boy to stay, the boy had some tortured reason why he couldn't. Chris said, "They told me to wait for a year of sobriety before starting a relationship." Chris fingered the chip on his keychain in his pocket, and thought about throwing it at JC. It seemed a bad way to make a point. He lit a cigarette instead.

JC said, "They'd prefer you not to smoke in here." Chris looked at the full ashtray next to JC's keyboard, JC's brand of smokes hadn't changed at all.

Chris said, "I can't quit everything, man."

JC shrugged and went back to work. When he'd written a heartbreaking instrumental that Chris found infinitely more moving than anything that had happened on screen, JC saved it on a DAT and rewound the tape. He ejected the tape and the screen was a bright blue. JC put the tape in bag with the DAT and sealed it. Then he turned around and said, "Why are you here?"

Chris said, "I've been clean for a year. I came here." Chris watched JC swallow nothing and then JC lit a cigarette. Smoky blue room, Chris thought. Chris said, "I came to you. You know, man."

JC inhaled and flicked ash on the floor. "It's not that easy." He stood up and started pacing. "You know, you know Nick fucking Carter called me last week, out of the blue and he said, 'hey, man, what's Lance's number?' Like it was nothing. Like it hadn't been seven years. And I told him I don't have Lance's number. I just get faxes. And I don't even, when's the last time we talked, man?"

"Well, I'm here now. So we can talk now. Talk to me." Chris walked across the small room and ground out his cigarette in the ashtray.

JC shuddered and flicked his cigarette onto the floor. He grabbed Chris and kissed him. "Let's talk later," he said.





8 Chris walked up the long stairs to JC's house and thought again that they should just move in together. JC always refused. He said moving in would let everyone know and he was tired, he was burnt out on anyone knowing his business. Chris only minded when he had to walk up the stairs.

He entered the security code, he knew the security code because he'd helped JC pick it, and walked through the living room to the studio in the basement. He walked past the trophy case, the Hall of Fame thing, the Oscar, Emmys, two Grammys, all lit and dusted. Chris didn't really look at them, he remembered when JC won every one.

In the studio, JC watched the screen. An army surged on the screen, covered with mud. JC played something sweeping and grand and Chris hummed a harmony, something as high as he could hum anymore. JC didn't acknowledge him, but he started playing the tune Chris had been humming as a counter-point. He played for an hour without saying anything, working the little tune into bits and pieces and it was just five minutes of music, but Chris loved it and almost cried. He didn't, he just lit a cigarette.

After JC had saved everything and shut down his Mac, he turned around and said, "You're here."

Chris smiled. "I am. I have a week, babe. Then, you know, the album's big in Japan. I'm big in Japan. I don't pretend to understand, but they crave a 50-year-old fart singing about 1974. Fun fact?"

JC grinned and spread his legs. He waved his hand. Chris said, "I will be touring with Lance and his longtime companion. Did I already tell you that?"

"You called him Lance's boytoy when you told me. Since Nick is one year younger than Lance."

"We've been together longer than those fucks, we're way cuter." Chris got on his knees in front of JC and sat on his heels.

"You give much better head than Nick Carter, man." Chris raised an eyebrow. "Look, man, we broke up, they had broken up, so." JC laughed. "You give better head than that one time I fucked Nick in 1979."

Chris started laughing but then stopped and proved JC right again.



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