Big Break
by Karen
© 2002
This is my first solo effort. It's also a story that hurt to write, but once the idea took root, I had to get it off my chest.
The premiere. JC wished it were over, so things could get back to normal. He'd never seen Lance like this--distant, distracted, tense. Since he'd come back from spending some time with his family after the September 11 tragedy, Lance hadn't been the same. It was as if he were being pursued by something and he was working harder than ever to stay ahead of it. Lance had always been the one wanting to go out clubbing--now it was JC who usually suggested it, and who was usually rebuffed. Lance usually stayed bent over his computer very late, crawling into bed exhausted long after JC had succumbed to sleep.
As the date approached and details were finalized, Lance still seemed to be planning feverishly. "Look, JC," Lance said a couple of days before the event. "It's going to look weird if we show up without dates. I'm going to ask Laura to come up with my family to be my date."
"Laura? I haven't seen her since the Angel Ball. How's she doing?"
"Great. She'll be glad to see you, too."
"Cool. But it's kind of last minute for me to find someone to bring. I don't have an endless supply of childhood friends like you do."
"Beth doesn't have a date. I'm sure she would like to go with you."
"YOUR endless supply of childhood friends. Okay. Beth's cool."
JC had talked with Beth and settled things. He hated the whole deception of bringing a date to these things when he was really with Lance, and looked forward to the day when they could end the charade. The night before the premiere, everything was in place. After a late dinner, Lance again tried to boot up his computer, but JC pulled him away, in spite of his protests. "You got a huge day tomorrow, babe, and you're exhausted. Come to bed."
Lance finally allowed himself to be led to the bed, but when JC started kissing him, Lance said, "I'm just all, I don't know. Just. Can we just cuddle?"
"Of course we can."
Even lying in bed, it was as if JC could hear Lance's mind racing. He hummed soothingly until he felt Lance relax, then drifted to sleep himself. When he awakened, Lance was long gone, off for his busy day of meetings and appearances.
JC didn't see Lance again until they were dressing for the premiere. Lance was his usual calm self as he finished his preparations, but JC, knowing him so well, could see the almost desperate expression in his eyes. "Anything I can do?" JC asked, when he was, uncharacteristically, ready first.
"No," Lance said. "But, um, thanks. Really, the best thing you can do for me is go downstairs and find Beth. I'll be down in a couple of minutes."
"Okay," JC replied, leaning in to kiss Lance and getting a cool cheek. "I'll get out of your way."
"Thanks. See you down there."
In the small lobby, JC found Beth and watched as she organized milling Bass relatives into groups by which car they would travel in. JC stood nearby but out of her way and kept glancing at the elevator doors. When Lance emerged, with Laura on his arm, he was immediately surrounded by family and friends. JC had never felt more like an outsider.
In the limo on the way to the theater, JC kept trying to catch Lance's eye, to smile his encouragement, but Lance was always whispering to or laughing with Laura. The limo pulled up at the theatre. JC got out, glanced back, and saw a total stranger emerge behind him. The walk into the theater was a blur for JC. Flashing lights and screamed names and jumbled, impossible words. "Laura . . . my girlfriend . . . couple of weeks."
JC managed to get to his seat and tried to sort it out. It could be for publicity, for the movie, but they would have talked about it. He and Lance always talked about things that affected them both. Hadn't they talked for weeks about the pros and cons of having Bobbie out of their lives? By the time Lance came and sat next to him, JC was practically in a frenzy of anxiety. He turned confused eyes on Lance. "Wha--what's going on?" His eyes met blankness. Not coldness and certainly not the warmth he usually sought in Lance's eyes. Just . . . nothing.
"I, um, I told the hotel to move your things into your own room," Lance whispered.
"But, why?"
"We can't be together anymore, JC. We just can't."
"But I . . . we . . . "
"I'm with Laura now."
"Since?"
"Since I went home."
Nearly a month. "Why . . . why am I here? Why didn't you say something before?"
"I needed you here. With Chris and Justin bailing . . . I needed at least one of you here." Lance pauses. "And at the party. You owe me that much. "
"I owe YOU?"
"Yes. You did this to me. You made me gay." The word is mouthed, not even whispered.
"I... I what?"
"You heard me. I can't BE that anymore. You go to your own room tonight, JC."
"But I don't even have the key." JC felt pressure on his hand and looked down to see Lance handing him the key.
"I knew you wouldn't bring it with you."
JC took the card from Lance's hand and slipped it into his pocket, looking up to see Lance watching him expectantly. "What?"
"I'd like mine back, please."
Keeping his face carefully expressionless, JC extracted the key and handed it over. He started to get up. "I'd like to leave now."
"Sit down." Lance smiles his "I'm having my picture taken but I really don't mean it" smile. "The movie's starting."
Somehow JC got through the movie, staring sightlessly at the screen. On automatic pilot, he rose and walked up the aisle with his arm around Beth, depending, as usual in troubled times, on the touch of another human to keep him together. He managed to say the right things and smile mechanically at the right people. They split up at near the exit and JC followed Lonnie to the car. It was a sign of how disturbed he was that he didn't even feel it when an overcome fan breached the barrier and jumped on him, scratching him.
JC managed to get inside Planet Hollywood, get a drink, say hello to the right people and find a fairly secluded spot. Joey found him there about an hour later. "Hey, dude, I been looking for you everywhere."
"Oh, hey, Joe. I'm here."
"What's wrong, C?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
Joey followed JC's gaze, centered on Lance, in the midst of his family and Mississippi friends. "Hey, I'm pissed at him, too. Little sneak. Finally gets a girlfriend and doesn't tell us."
JC cringed at the word. "That's not it. Well, it is, but . . . " JC hesitated. He needed to say it, but it wasn't easy letting go of long held secrets. He sighed and mumbled, "Joey. Lance and I have been together for more than two years."
"Oh. OH. Man, you think you know your friends." Joey chuckles. "So, it's just publicity."
"That's what I thought. Till we talked. It's real," JC said in a near whisper.
Something in JC's voice made Joey realize just how upset his friend was and that he must be missing something. "What then?" he pressed. "You think he moved on too fast? How long have you guys been broken up?"
"Joey, remember how you used to tell us about breaking up with girls in public places so they couldn't flip out?"
"Yeah," Joey said, confused by the twists and turns of this conversation. Then suddenly, he understood. "Lance did that to you? Tonight?"
JC nodded miserably.
"LANCE? No way. He wouldn't--" But Joey saw in JC's eyes that it was true. His voice softened. "Why are you even here? You could've gone back to the hotel."
JC smiled bitterly. "He said I owed him. For making him gay."
"He said THAT? Is he tripping?"
JC just sat quietly, with his head down, until a burst of laughter came from Lance's table, causing him to look up and stare longingly at the laughing figure in the center of the group.
"Come on, let's get you out of here," Joey said gently. "You don't need to sit here and watch this."
"You don't have to, Joey. It's your party, too."
"It kinda stopped being fun. Come on."
JC and Joey walked through the still-crowded restaurant, meeting Lonnie at the door. "We're out of here," Joey said. Lonnie nodded and led them to one of the waiting cars.
During the ride, even back at the hotel, JC seemed to be recovering a little. Until he and Joey reached their floor, and JC automatically went to the door of the suite he'd been sharing with Lance and slipped his key into the slot. The red light flashed rebukingly but JC kept trying until he let his head fall against the door and gave in to the tears that had been threatening all night.
"Come on, C." Joey led JC to his assigned room, took the key from his hand, and opened the door, shepherding JC in. Once inside, JC almost tripped over his bags, dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the floor by the hotel staff. The sight of them hit JC like a physical pain. He knew now that after sending him downstairs, Lance must have packed his belongings into these bags. And that, more than anything, makes it all real to him. It's not a mistake or a bad dream. Lance isn't going to show up at his door saying it was all a stupid joke, a misunderstanding.
Joey went over to the bar and poured drinks, then urged JC onto the couch, putting the glass in his hand. "You gonna be okay?" he asked, feeling the foolishness of the words. Nothing's going to be okay for a long time.
They sat on that couch for hours, JC mostly silent, sometimes sipping at his drink. Occasionally he would blurt out something. Mostly stories from his time with Lance, how they managed to have this relationship right under everyone's noses without anyone knowing. Joey learned how it was Lance's illness and collapse that had brought them together, how JC had loved Lance long before that but had never spoken.
Finally JC was so worn out from tears and talk and brandy that Joey was able to coax him to lie down on the bed. Soon after, Joey saw that JC had fallen into an exhausted sleep and quietly let himself out.
As Joey left JC's room, he saw Lance at the door to his own suite, having trouble with the key slot in an eerie echo of JC's earlier struggle. Lance's problem was alcohol, not pain, though. Joey walked over to Lance. "If you didn't have an appearance in the morning to promote OUR movie, I'd punch your lights out."
Lance smiled guiltily. "Hey, Joey. Wanna come in?" He opened the door, admitting Joey. "Dude, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. There were reasons."
Joey looked at Lance in disbelief. "How could you do that to him?"
"He told," Lance said with more than a hint of annoyance. He added, more softly, "He wasn't supposed to tell. Ever."
"Yeah, well, you weren't supposed to dump him in the most cruel and humiliating way possible, so I'd say all bets were off."
"Humiliating?" Lance asked, genuinely confused. "No one knew what was going on. If no one knows, it can't be humiliating."
Joey practically growled in frustration. Lance and his compartments. "Fine. Not humiliating. But cruel. Why tonight? Why not before, in private?"
"I needed him to be here tonight. How would it have looked if NONE of the other guys were here?"
"Let me get this straight. You sacrificed a six-year friendship and a two-year relationship for appearances? At a premiere no one came to?" "Not just appearances. I've been thinking a lot since the terrorist attacks, and I had to, to stop being a sinner."
"You've been listening to that bullshit Falwell was spewing? Even he apologized."
"It's not bullshit. My church, my family, they all say the same."
"But it still comes down to--you couldn't have talked to C privately?"
"No. He would have tried to confuse me. That's what they do, you know?"
"They?"
"You know. They twist things around. Make you think things that are wrong--sinful--are all right."
"This isn't some 'they'. This is JC we're talking about. Our friend. Our brother. The same JC that worked all those extra hours with you when you couldn't get the dance steps. Who wouldn't leave your hospital bed till your parents came. Who would never hurt anyone if he could help it."
"So what, I'm not allowed to break up with him if I don't want to be with him anymore?"
"You have every right to break up with him. You didn't have to destroy him. He LOVES you."
Lance shook his head, and spoke slowly, as if to a not very bright child. "That's not love, Joey. That's lust."
"Do you hear yourself? Are you that brainwashed? He's in serious pain over there. Trust me, it's not because he's not going to be getting laid in the near future."
"Joey, it had to be this way. I have a girlfriend now, and it will be good for the movie. OUR movie."
"What about the group, Lance? Is this good for the group? You've already alienated Justin and Chris so much they didn't even show up tonight. You killed C tonight. Who's next?" Joey stood up. "You better be in the market for a new best friend. 'Cause this one's done with you."
Lance watched in surprise as Joey walked out of the room without a backward glance. His mother was right, he mused. You can't depend on anyone but family and old friends.
JC woke up the next day with just enough time to roll out of bed, shower, and get to MTV for a promised appearance on TRL. It took a moment or two sitting on the edge of the bed, blinking at the unfamiliar room to understand why he was here. Then it hit him. He let himself fall back on the bed for a moment or two, then dragged himself up and did what he had to do. Get to the studio. Smile and joke with Carson. And, loyal even when there was nothing left to be loyal to, he duly praised the movie and Lance, covering his pain as well as possible.
On the way back from MTV, JC decided to check out as soon as he got to the hotel. He needed to be anywhere but here. He caught an elevator as the door was closing and stepped on before he realized that there was another occupant--Lance. JC pretended fascination with the pattern of the carpet.
"How are you, Josh?" Lance said softly in the voice that could still give JC shivers.
JC looked up incredulously. "How the hell do you think I am? And don't call me that."
Lance sighed. "Fine. JC."
"Don't act like the injured party."
"I'm not. It's just--we were always friends. I hoped we could be again."
JC's incredulity doubled. "You, you did this to me, and I'm to blame if we can't be friends?"
"It's for the best, Jo-- JC."
"The best for who?" JC snorts. "Don't bother answering. The best for you. 'Cause that's all you care about. You don't care about anyone anymore. Not me. Not the guys. You sure as hell don't care about the fans."
"That's not fair, JC."
"Maybe not. But it's true."
"You hate me now," Lance said matter of factly.
JC raised his eyes. "No. Never."
The elevator door opened and JC quickly stepped out.
Lance stepped out in JC's wake. "I'm sorry, Josh."
JC turned slowly. "But not sorry enough to fix things."
"No. I . . . I can't."
"Then there's nothing left to say." JC turned again and walked to his room, opening the door and shutting it quietly, deliberately behind him.