Private Emotion
© 2001
by Emma

Slowly but surely the stress of keeping my secret was becoming too much to deal with. I think my friends know something is up because they keep asking me if I’m alright and I always give them the same answer and they always look at me like they think I’m lying. And I am, but I’m not going to tell them that, and I’m certainly not going to tell them what it is that’s keeping me up all night.

I thought about my little ‘issue’ on the bus this afternoon as we left whatever city it was we were in and headed for the next. I meant to ask Lance where we were going but had forgotten and I didn’t feel like interrupting him on the other bus, knowing that he was probably wrapped up in contracts or movie scripts or whatever else he only had time to deal with when we were on the bus for several hours at a time. I had work of my own I could do, I supposed, after an hour of debating whether or not to go bug Chris in the back of the bus. But finding that work would mean lifting my head off the table and searching for my backpack so I would have everything I needed. Finding the bag wouldn’t actually be that hard. I knew vaguely where I had thrown it when I’d climbed on the bus. It was the lifting my head off the table that I was having a problem with. Even with the swaying motion of the bus, the table was the one thing I could find to rest my head on that didn’t make me feel like I was swimming on a roller coaster. Sometimes I questioned my judgment. I knew we had to leave early this morning but I still went out and partied with Joey and Lance and stumbled into my hotel room at three this morning, too drunk to do anything but pass out cold. This morning had been hell when I’d woken up, my mouth one big ball of cotton and the beginnings of an alcohol migraine pounding at the base of my skull.

The headache was the reason I had spent the afternoon with my head on the table instead of doing anything constructive. The smooth, cool wood beneath my face was more comfortable than any pillow would have been and it was rather entertaining watching my reflection out of the corner of one half-opened eye, examining my breath make patterns on the surface of the table as I inhaled and exhaled. At one point, Chris looked up from the PlayStation and asked if I was okay. I guess it was because I hadn’t moved in nearly two hours. I mumbled something about being fine and Chris must have taken it to be the truth because he had turned back to the television and restarted his game and not said anything until we had reached Denver or Detroit or some city beginning with D, and then Chris had only tapped me on the shoulder to make sure I knew we were there.

My plan for tonight was to stay in and sleep off the remainder of my hangover but Joey had pointed out that it was rare to have two days off in a row and that I could recover tomorrow, and sometimes it’s easier to just smile and nod than to explain to Joey why I didn’t want to go out. Especially since the reason I didn’t want to go out was sitting next to him, agreeing that it was a good idea to go and party tonight and had then thrown his two cents in saying that what I needed was a good dose of ‘hair of the dog.’ Which sounded worse to me than any drink Joey could shove down my throat so I had agreed. Then Joey had said something about meeting some “hot chicks. Or dudes if you’re into that,” with a grin at me and for a second my heart had stopped and my mouth had gone dry and I had stared at him in shock. Was it possible that Joey knew? Or was he just being a jerk like he always was right before we hit the town? Joey being a jerk was like a pre-game ritual or something, a way to boost his ego and make him feel like more of a man. I was suddenly very scared that he had found my journal and read the thoughts I was too afraid to tell even JC, and he was my best friend. I discarded that thought after a moment though. No one knew I kept a journal and I had it so well hidden that no one would even know where to look if they did. So it wasn’t possible that Joey had read it and was being an asshole for that reason. Because if he had it would be a shame. I would kill to keep my secret hidden. Okay, maybe not kill. But seriously maim, though.

So, I went out with Joey and the others and did my best to act like nothing was wrong. I didn’t mean to drink tonight. I already felt like shit, why would I make it worse? But when Joey shoves a beer in your hand and tells you to chug it or he’ll embarrass the hell out you right then and there, you do it because with Joey, you never know what he means by embarrass. Lance isn’t any better when it comes to partying. I wonder how it is that the Mississippi-bred mama’s boy has managed to maintain this innocent, choirboy image while at the same time partying harder than anyone else. At least with Joey, he handed you the beer, shot you a grin and went on his way. When Lance handed you a double shot of something and pinned you with those piercing green eyes, there was no way to accidentally spill it or make a show of drinking it only to spit it out when he turned away. Because if you did that, he’d buy you three more and pour them down your throat himself, massaging your neck gently to make you swallow the way a veterinarian would get a dog to swallow a pill. Whoever said avoiding peer pressure was as simple as saying ‘no’ didn’t have my friends.

So, by the time we got back to the hotel, my body was fully saturated with alcohol and I could barely stand up straight. Bastards, I thought as I fumbled to find the slot for the key card so I could get into my room. Not just Joey and Lance but the bartenders too for not carding me. I tried to tell them that I was only twenty but they had waved it off saying it was okay because I’m part of NSYNC. Peachy. Sometimes I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

I had only been in bed for a few minutes, too tired and too drunk to even turn out the light, when I heard a rustling sound outside my door. As drunk as I was all I wanted to do was pass out cold but when you’re drunk your senses are super aware and within seconds I was in the throes of full-out paranoia. What if it was a burglar? What if it was a crazy fan that had somehow found my room and was trying to break in so she could have her way with me and then kill me, leaving my bloody body for the others to find? What if it was kidnappers coming to snatch me and hold me for a ransom that maybe no one would pay? With thoughts like these running through my head at a mile a minute I crept out of bed and slunk over to the door, placing my eye over the peephole to see if there was anyone there. No one. Now I felt silly but at least it put my mind at ease. It was when I stepped away from the door and turned to head back to bed that I stepped on the piece of paper. That would explain the rustling noises. There were only five words on the slip of hotel stationery but they were enough to make the bile rise in my throat and I had to make a sudden dash to the bathroom before I ruined the really nice hotel carpet. The paper was still on the floor when I came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, paler and a few pounds lighter I was sure. I stared at it warily before picking it up again and carrying it to bed with me. Tell him you love him. My mouth went dry and my blood ran cold as I stared at the words typed there. Someone knew my secret. That was patently obvious. The question was who? And how? How on earth had someone figured out that I had fallen in love? And how on earth had someone figured out that it was in love with a man? A man. A curse slipped out my mouth before I could stop it and I crumpled up the stationary and threw it across the room.

It had taken me two years to admit to myself that I was different. I hadn’t told anyone else, even my mom whom I told just about everything to, that it wasn’t the women I was checking out when she caught me staring at a group of people around my age at a mall or wherever. I think she thought that I was thinking about what my life would be like if I wasn’t who I was, if I hadn’t done the things I had done as a child, and it was kinder in my mind to let her believe that I was wondering what it would be like to be able to go to a mall with my friends without the fear of getting manhandled. As much as she loved me and as well as I thought I knew her, I didn’t really know how she would react to the fact that her baby boy wasn’t going to have the traditional marriage that she had been planning since I was born. She still had hopes that I would get together with one of my old Mouseketeer friends, Britney, and that we’d pop out a passel of little curly haired, brown-eyed babies. How did I tell her that I also had hopes that I would get together with one of my Mouseketeer friends…just not the one she had in mind? Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the frustrations of keeping a secret like this finally catching up with me. Whatever it was, all of it became too much to deal with and I reached out with one fist and pounded it viciously into a spot just above the headboard of the bed, the unyielding wall causing the nerves beneath my skin to tingle with the first hints of pain. A growl started low in my throat and I pounded my fist into the wall again. I threw myself off the bed and started pacing the room furiously, reaching one wall and throwing out a fist and slamming it into the middle of a flower cluster on the wallpaper to stop myself before I ran into the wall face first. With my hand starting to bruise and the pain starting to blossom into more than a stinging annoyance I whirled around and strode angrily towards the balcony, stopping short of actually going onto it, afraid I’d throw myself off of it. I don’t know how many times I repeated that action, but when I stopped my knuckles were starting to become purple, already swollen beyond recognition and bleeding a little from where the rough wallpaper had scraped it up. I clutched my battered hand to my chest with my unhurt one and took a deep breath, trying to bring a touch of sanity back into my mind. When I had calmed down enough to know that I wouldn’t do anything drastic like toss myself off my balcony, I headed outside to get some fresh air, lamenting that even if I did throw myself over the edge, the fans below would probably form a net or something and catch me.

“You okay man?”

I’d like to say the sound of Joey’s voice startled me, that I hadn’t disturbed anyone with my little display of temper, but the reality is I knew he would be out there. More often than not he was in the room next to mine, or we shared a two-room suite, and on more than one occasion he had heard me throw a tantrum much like the one I had just had. It had become a tradition of sorts over the years. I would storm and rage until I could storm and rage no more then I would find my way to the balcony or the living room and Joey would be waiting there, much like he was tonight, ready to ask the same question he always asked, the very question he had just posed.

“Yeah, Joe.” I replied with my standard answer. “I’m fine.”

And that was where we usually left it. Usually. The way things had been going for me lately, I don’t know why I was surprised when Joey spoke again, his brown eyes focused on something on the horizon just over my shoulder.

“Didn’t sound like you were okay.” Joey said. A pack of cigarettes materialized out of nowhere and I watched as he lit one of them, inhaling deeply and letting the taste of it roll around his mouth before exhaling it in a quiet whoosh of air.

I watched the smoke dissipate into the night air, wishing that Joey would offer one to me. I wondered briefly if it would matter to the fans if they knew the five men they ‘loved’ smoked sometimes when things got really stressful. After a fight, when all the words had been said and all the barbs had been thrown and there was nothing left to be said or done, the parties involved would grab a pack of cigarettes and sit around smoking them until they had smoked the tension right out of their bodies. There was just something about it that calmed them all. The inhaling was the drawing up from the insides any residual tension and the exhaling was the purging of it. We all knew it was a stupid thing to do, and that each one brought us a step closer to destroying our voices, but in this life we lead where we have so little control over anything, it’s the one thing we cling to because ultimately it’s our choice whether or not we did it and it was the one thing that no one could tell us not to do. Our voices were always raspier the morning after, but it didn’t stop us from doing it. Just like knowing that I’m not loved back didn’t stop my heart from aching every time I saw the man who owned it.

I groaned softly and bent at the waist until my forehead rested on the cold metal in front of me. There I go, back to that love thing. I needed to stop doing that, stop making those jumps from one subject to another when they weren’t at all related. Although, if I stretched my imagination to it’s limits I could draw a parallel between smoking and unrequited love. Both, after all, were things I shouldn’t be wanting. The only difference was that I could have a cigarette if I really wanted one. Which I did. Desperately.

“Give me one of those.” I demanded, hopping over the barrier that separated the two balconies. I sat down on the other chair out there and propped my feet up on the railing, sighing gratefully when Joey handed me a lit cigarette.

“Better?” Joey asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. I nodded but didn’t speak. “I’m assuming you got the note.” My head shot up in surprise and I narrowed my eyes until I could barely see him through the slits. Joey held up his hands as if warding off the verbal attack he knew I was on the verge of delivering. “Simmer down, kid.” He said. “I didn’t write it, I just know you got one.”

“Who slipped it under my door?” I asked, taking another much needed drag of nicotine.

“I did.” Joey answered and the smoke I had just inhaled got stuck somewhere in the middle of my chest and I started to choke.

“You did?” I croaked, not sure if he’d actually said that or if it had been a figment of my imagination. “I thought you said…”

“Oh, I didn’t write it.” Joey interrupted quickly. “But I know who did.” He smiled in that way he did when he knew something that you didn’t know but wasn’t going to tell you.

“And you’re not going to tell me, right?” I asked, not even bothering to hide the touch of bitterness that had entered my voice. He nodded slowly and I gave him the finger, which only made him laugh.

We were silent for a while but I knew that it wasn’t over yet. Joey was really good at pretending to drop a subject, letting his prey relax and think they had gotten away without the third degree before he moved in for the kill. So, it was with good reason that I stayed on the defensive, waiting for Joey to start in on me with the interrogation.

“Relax, dude. I’m not in the mood for the Spanish Inquisition tonight.” Joey said, a small laugh rumbling in his belly.

I looked at him in surprise then shook my head and chuckled along with him. After all these years I should be used to Joey and his surprises, but I wasn’t. Too many people underestimated him and wrote him off as the dumb-jock of the group. But beneath those hooded eyes and behind the always-joking attitude was a man who was always aware of everything, a man who had an ability to read people and know what was really going on in their minds, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. It was unnerving and it was scary sometimes, but more than once I’d been grateful for Joey’s ability to read people and situations. Like that time when we had been driving through a not-so-nice area of LA on our way to a photo shoot and Joey had shaken his head and broken out in goose-bumps all of a sudden and said “I think it might be a good idea to duck right about now.” We had all laughed at him as he had crawled down onto the floor of the van and pulled his knees to his chest, but that laughter had quickly turned to panic and we had all mimicked his position a moment later when shots were fired from the car next to us, a bullet breaking the glass of the window next to Lance’s head. We had managed to keep that out of the press, thank god, but we had learned the hard way to always listen to Joey’s ‘thoughts.’

My cigarette had long been smoked and I was starting to feel the affects of the alcohol again, so I stood and said goodnight to Joey, climbing back over to his own balcony. I was almost to my door, almost free, when Joey stopped me again with a distinct throat clearing that I had gotten used to knowing meant he wasn’t done with his thoughts yet. I sighed and turned slowly to face him again, finding him standing in the doorway of his own room, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Have you ever considered that maybe the one you love loves you too?” Joey asked.

My jaw dropped and I felt my knees go weak. “Wh-what are you talking about?” I managed to stutter, knowing as I did I had just given my secret away. I covered my eyes with my hand knowing that whatever unasked question Joey had been hinting at had just been answered. “Shit.” I muttered.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Joey said and I lowered my hand to stare at him, wondering if the others knew too. “And no, no one else knows that you’re pining for him. You’re real good at hiding it.”

“Not good enough if you know.” I said, and Joey smiled and shrugged like he was proud. I hated that Joey could read my goddamn mind. Was I really that easy to read? Apparently years in the spotlight hadn’t taught me anything about hiding my true emotions. “How did you know anyways?”

Joey shrugged again and tapped one finger against his temple. “I’m the all-knowing Joseph.” He said with an evil grin. “I know all. I see all.” Then he disappeared into his room, sliding the door shut after him.

“Bastard.” I whispered before entering my own room. One of these days I was going to corner Joey and find out exactly how he knew what was going on all the time. He probably bugged our rooms or something, knowing that we all talk to ourselves when we were thinking. He thought he knew everything, I thought bitterly. But he didn’t know anything about this. And whatever he was thinking was way off. Way off.

My bed was calling my name so to shut it up I collapsed on it, too tired to contemplate changing into something more comfortable. But as physically tired as I was, my mind was too awake to even begin to sleep. So I lay there face down, my feet hanging off the end of the bed, my face buried in the pillow, trying to figure out what I should do and trying desperately to avoid any thoughts of the man I had fallen in love with. Like that would happen. Every dream I had lately was invaded by him, even the nightmares, and every waking thought consisted of what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his soft skin under my lips. I groaned softly and pulled the pillow over my head and pressed down hard on it, squishing my face into the soft mattress. I don’t know how long I stayed like that or what time it was when I finally fell asleep but the last time I remember my eyes being open the sky had turned from midnight blue to black, making me realize that the old adage ‘the sky is darkest before the dawn’ was actually true. Someone pounding on my door woke me and I groaned when I opened my eyes and the sunlight that was pouring in through the open curtains blinded me.

“What?” I barked as I pulled open the door.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Lance said with a laugh. “You’ve got twenty minutes before we have to go. The vans are already waiting.”

Of course they were. God forbid a day off actually mean a day off. “Where are we going again?” I called after Lance.

“Radio station.” I opened my mouth to ask another question but Lance beat me to the punch. “And we’re in Des Moines.” How the hell, I wondered as I shut the door and pulled off my shirt, did everyone know what I was going to ask before I asked it. I really needed to work on being so predictable.

The radio interview was a typical show except for one moment at the end. The DJ had turned to us and said “now to ask the question that all our listeners want the answer to: Are any of you in love?” Instead of answering the way we had been taught to, I had given an honest reply that had only happened because I had been so caught up in avoiding looking at JC that I had heard the question but the implication of giving any other answer than the one I was supposed to hadn’t sunk in. So I had answered yes. The look of surprise on the other’s faces hadn’t gone unnoticed by the DJ, and the jerk had said “you sure? Because it doesn’t look like your friends know anything about it.” That comment had pissed me off so much that I had made some smart-ass remark about them not being my keepers, thrown off my headphones and stormed out of the room. Which hadn’t made management happy. At all. But at least I hadn’t been predictable. I had smiled at that realization. Unfortunately I had smiled in the middle of a lecture from our PR manager and, needless to say, that hadn’t gone over too well either and the guy had stalked out of the conference room we had borrowed from the hotel for a couple of hours, slamming the door behind him.

Which left me to face my friends by myself. Suddenly I wished the PR guy were back.

“What the hell was that little stunt about today?” Lance asked, anger making his voice deeper than it normally was. Lance always got angry when things didn’t go the way they were supposed to go. Even after all these years, even though we had all tried to convince him otherwise, he was still certain that he was the expendable one. That he could be replaced at any time. So, he worked harder than any of us and always kept one hand in the business side of things as if to prove that we needed him because he was the one who explained all the contractual requirements to us. Or maybe it was as if to say that we couldn’t get rid of him because he knew enough about all of us to bring the group down if we tried. But we never would. And he just didn’t get it.

“Leave him alone.” Joey said quietly from where he sat leaning back in his chair as far as it would go and swinging side to side lazily. “If he’s in love, he’s in love. At least one of us has the balls to admit it.” Joey’s brown eyes found me across the table and I smiled gratefully. My hero, I thought somewhat sarcastically, a small smirk playing at the corners of my mouth. Joey winked at me like he knew what I was thinking and I shook my head.

“That’s not the point, Joe.” Lance continued on, not ready to drop the subject yet.

“That is the point, Lance.” Joey replied, straightening up so that he could look the younger man in the eye. The subject had been dropped after that, and once again I found himself in debt to Joey.

We’d had a few free hours to ourselves after the radio debacle and I had gone back to my room to attempt the sleep thing again. It didn’t work but I had at least made a valiant effort. After two hours of staring at the ceiling and counting how many flowers were in the fresh floral arrangement on the dresser I had given up and let myself begin to daydream about what it might be like if I just came clean with the rest of the group about who it was I loved. There was scenario A where I told them and they all accepted it and supported me and the one I love came up to me and told me that he felt the same way. That was nice, I thought, a smile coming to my face at the thought of that happening. The smile faded as scenario B began to play in my mind. Not as pleasant. I told them all and everyone but Joey was disgusted by me and didn’t talk to me for the rest of our time as a group which, incidentally, wasn’t long because my admission caused us all to distrust and eventually hate each other which led to us not talking to each other at all or interacting on stage which led to a dramatic drop in record sales which led to us breaking up six months later. That scenario frightened me so much that I had to clap my hand over my heart in a vain attempt to stop it from beating so fast and so hard that it felt like it might lub-dub its way right out of my chest.

When the beating had finally slowed I tried to think about it again, only to have a similar reaction complete with sweat, tears and a loud cry I couldn’t contain. No. Telling them wasn’t an option. I wished fervently that it were because I would feel infinitely better, but I didn’t want to be the one that was responsible for the break-up of something we all lived for.

“Thinking about coming clean?”

I jumped and swung my startled eyes towards my balcony door. Joey stood there, a pack of cigarettes in one hand. “Could you do me a favor and use the regular door next time instead of sneaking up on me?” I asked, climbing out of the bed to stand on weak knees.

“Could you do me a favor,” Joey mimicked in a perfect imitation of me. “And not cry out so loud when some of us are trying to sleep?” I shot him a dirty look as I stepped past him onto the balcony, keeping away from the edge so that the fans gathered below wouldn’t see me. Joey lit a cigarette and handed it to me before lighting one for him. He didn’t care if the fans below saw him and he leaned on the railing, chuckling softly and turning to wave when a roar of screams wafted upwards. “So, you alright?” He asked turning back around to pin me with those soul-seeing eyes. I looked at him and shook my head and he nodded because he had already known the answer. “You really are thinking about telling the others, huh? That’s why you cried out and that’s why you looked like death warmed over when I walked in.”

“I’m not thinking about coming clean, Joe.” I said, sinking into a chair.

“Coming clean, coming out, same thing.” Joey said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he sat next to me.

“I’m not coming out either.” My voice was flat and he looked at me for a long moment before nodding his head and turning to scan the horizon.

“Why not?” He asked quietly, his tone challenging me to be honest with both him and myself. So I was. I told him all of scenario B and how I didn’t want to be the one that was responsible for the demise of NSYNC and how just the thought of all of them hating me because of something that was out of my control was too much to even contemplate let alone live through. Joey was silent after that but I knew—I thought I knew—that the silence wouldn’t last for long. Joey would open his mouth and start listing off all the reasons why I was full of shit and why I shouldn’t be afraid and at the end of his speech he would stand up and clap me on the back and say something ridiculous like ‘go get’em, tiger’ which was as close as he ever came to saying something emotional like ‘you’re strong and you can handle this and no matter what happens I love you.’

I waited with almost baited breath for Joey to speak, for the pearls of wisdom I so needed to hear to come pouring out of my friend’s mouth. But none came and instead Joey stood and looked down at me, angrily lighting another cigarette, his grip on it so tight that when he pulled it away from his mouth after a long inhalation, the small stick snapped in half. Cursing, Joey tossed it over the balcony and lit another one, his hands shaking with anger. This was a side of Joey that I had never seen but had heard of in whispered conversations after a fight he’d had with Chris a long time ago. I watched as a vein in Joey’s temple started throbbing and I shrank lower in the chair in an attempt to get away from him.

“I can’t believe you.” Joey finally said, his voice so calm and steady that the anger in it resonated. He looked at me then and the eyes that normally sparkled with such joie de vivre radiated a different emotion, an emotion that I had never thought Joey was capable of feeling because he took everything in such stride. There was rage in Joey’s brown eyes and that scared the hell out of me, and I waited with held breath for his verbal assault to begin. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you.” Joey said again. “You have that little faith in us that you would hide such a vital part of yourself because you don’t want to see your little world collapse around you? We’re you’re brothers,” He fairly spat the word. “Or is that just a word to you, something with no real meaning, just something you use to make us all look like we’re a group without conflict to the fans?” I flinched at that and he shook his head, his hair flying wildly. “We’ve shared everything with you, our hopes, our fears, things that you could use to strike out at us or throw back in our faces but we trusted you enough to tell you, knowing that your love for us and your belief in us was strong enough that it didn’t matter what it was we said, just that you would support us. And you don’t have the decency to give us the same chance to support you? How dare you. How dare you be that self-absorbed and self-pitying?”

I had never seen Joey this angry before and I hadn’t been aware that he could even get this mad. Still I knew the reasoning behind it was solid, and I pulled my knees to my chest and pressed my face against them feeling the tears soak through the denim of my jeans. Above me Joey continued to rant but I slipped into a corner of my mind and ceased listening. I was still aware of his presence, aware of everything, the way the wind had picked up and now carried with it a bitter chill that seeped through the sweatshirt I wore and buried its way into the very depth of my soul. Joey was right; I knew this because Joey had a knack for always being right. I should tell them because I owed it to all of them to trust them the way they had trusted me over the years. They deserved to know that I believed in their love for me, and I believed in them. But, the problem was, while I believed in them in just about everything, and I would have trusted them with just about everything, I couldn’t with this. And there was nothing that Joey could say that would convince me otherwise.

“Tell them or I will.”

Except maybe that.

Then Joey had given me a time limit. I had until the end of the night—which didn’t mean when I went to bed, it meant the end of the day—or my little secret would be ‘accidentally’ spilled one night when we were all out on the town or something and wouldn’t that be the ultimate in awkward Joey had asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. I had never known him to be evil or devious or cruel and so I had tried to talk my way out of it and when that hadn’t worked I had begged and pleaded and cajoled and gotten down on my knees and hugged Joey’s legs, burying my face against the side of his thigh, my tears soaking through the fabric of his gym shorts. Joey had simply pulled away and patted me on the head before jumping over to his own balcony and disappearing into his room. I had cursed loudly and yelled after him that he was the biggest asshole to walk the face of the earth. Joey’s only response had been laughter as he had closed his balcony door.

So now I had until midnight to come clean. To come out. How was that fair? I was tempted to call Joey’s bluff and not say anything at all, letting the clock tick down the minutes and seconds to midnight just to see if he would in fact say anything. Except that I wasn’t entirely sure Joey was bluffing. And if he wasn’t bluffing, my secret coming from another’s lips wouldn’t go over well at all. I had a vague recollection of Chris keeping something from all of us, something that he had thought no one knew but Joey obviously had and had let it slip during a game of truth or dare. Lance had gotten so mad when he had realized what was being said that his pale skin had turned beet red and he had left without saying a word. Lance leaving without putting his two cents in was a rare occasion and it was a sure sign that he was livid and we should leave him alone until he calmed down long enough to see straight. I wondered now if Joey had given Chris an ultimatum similar to the one I had just gotten and if Chris had tried to call him on it. If that had been the case then Joey was completely capable of doing the same thing again and I wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that happen. I supposed I could go ask Chris what had really happened, but no one had ever brought up that night after that and I realized that should be a clue as to how the others might react over this.

But what if they didn’t react the same way?

I spent the afternoon curled up in my bed, ignoring the phone and the door. I didn’t want to face anyone and the best way to do that seemed to be to shut everyone out. Around dinnertime Lance had pounded on the door and demanded that I open it, saying that he knew I was in there because Joey had told him I was. Damn Joey. For Christmas I was going to buy him a muzzle. I had opened the door slowly and told Lance that I wanted to be alone, and no, nothing was wrong I was just feeling anti-social and I didn’t want to do or say anything that would cause tension in the group. Lance had studied me for a moment, a look of disbelief on his face as if to say ‘Justin is skipping dinner?’ before nodding his head and turning to walk away. I had just started to close the door when he threw another sentence over his shoulder, a message he had forgotten to deliver, one that sent me collapsing to the floor after I had shut the door.

“Joey’s planning a game of truth or dare tonight at eleven in my room.” Lance said, turning to walk backwards, pausing when he saw my face pale. Cocking his head to the side, he continued. “He said be there or be square.”

Truth or dare I had thought to myself once my breathing had returned to normal. That was how it had all ended for Chris. So now I knew what had gone down years ago during the game that had exposed a part of Chris that he hadn’t wanted anyone to know. But they all knew now and it wasn’t a big deal if I couldn’t even remember what the secret had been. I did know that it probably wasn’t something as important as who you love and that, that would make all the difference, I knew. I could pretend sickness to get out of it. It wouldn’t really be a lie I rationalized as I paced my room. I was definitely feeling out of sorts and the knot of tension and fear that had been in my stomach for the last couple of years had grown considerably in the last twenty-four hours. Hell, it had doubled in the last three hours.

“I’m gonna stay in my room tonight.” I said later when Chris and Joey had come to find me. “I’m not feeling well.” The excuse was even lamer when I said it out loud.

Joey had studied me for a moment the way everyone had been studying me lately, like I had grown a second head or something. “I don’t think so.” He finally said, grabbing my arm and dragging me out of my room and down the hall so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to grab my key.

I had tried to fight Joey but his grip on my arm was like a vice, entirely too strong and I gave up after a couple of minutes, resigned to the fact that whether I was there or not something was going to come out—and it was going to be me. I closed my eyes and let myself be led, trying to ignore the death march music that was pounding in my ears. Joey let my arm go once we were in the room and Lance looked at me in concern, his eyes narrowing when I rubbed the spot where Joey’s grip had been.

“Are you okay?” He asked and I nodded. “You sure? You look kinda pale.”

“I’m fine.” I said, taking a seat on the couch. Or I would be as soon as this was all over. Except that I wouldn’t be and if Joey had his way I wouldn’t even be able to pretend to be. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, waiting for this to begin so that it could end.

“Okay,” Joey said taking the seat next to him and rubbing his hands gleefully. “I guess I’ll start this puppy off.” Everyone groaned because Joey starting meant jumping into the truths and dares that no one wanted to do. “Chris, truth or dare?”

Chris chose dare because Chris being Chris he couldn’t turn down the opportunity to do something that would make a fool out of himself. Or maybe it was because Chris had learned that choosing truth from Joey meant facing something about yourself and chances were it would be something that no one else knew. Joey was an asshole like that, so Chris had chosen dare every time since that ‘other’ game. Smart man.

Smart man.

I sat up with a sudden movement that brought everyone’s eyes to me, and I rubbed my back in an effort to make them think that a back spasm had caused my abrupt motion. They seemed to buy it and I sank back against the couch deep in thought. I could do dares. All I had to do was avoid answering any truths and I would be fine. A smug smile crept across my mouth and I covered it with my hand and coughed in an attempt to hide it. Joey stared at me suspiciously and for a moment I thought he knew what I was up to but Chris calling his name distracted him and he turned away.

Chris posed the question to Joey and Joey chose dare and went running buck naked down the hall, pounding on the door of a suite we all knew to be occupied by a little old lady who had complained numerous times that we made too much noise. He waited until she answered and planted a wet kiss on her lips before running back to Lance’s room and doing a Tarzan yell on the balcony, much to the delight of the fans below. He returned to his seat fully clothed and slightly out of breath and had taken a long moment to recover, taking the time to shoot evil grins at all of us and making us all squirm until his gaze rested far too long on me and I knew it was my turn. Joey made a big show out of looking at his watch, a small smile coming to his face when he realized it was after midnight.

“Justin, truth or dare?” Joey’s gaze was steady on me and I knew that he was waiting for me to show some fear or something.

I grinned. “Dare.” Joey’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I dare you,” Joey said pausing to think or be melodramatic or to make me sweat. “I dare you to tell us who you love.”

My grin faltered then fell completely as four pairs of eyes focused on me, waiting for me to answer. I should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as just choosing dare. I should have known that Joey would do something like this. I stared at him in disbelief and shook my head. “No.” I said, my voice deep with emotion.

“You have to.” Chris jumped in. “You chose dare. That means you can’t back out.”

“Fuck off, Chris.” I said angrily, my eyes never leaving Joey’s, and surprisingly he did. I could feel a stinging prick behind my eyelids and that made me angrier. “Don’t do this, Joey.” I pleaded softly. “Please don’t.”

Something flickered in Joey’s eyes and his face softened as if he was suddenly realizing that he couldn’t go this far with me. “Okay, okay, I take it back.” He said, reaching out a hand to me and patting my knee gently.

“No way!” Lance protested the way he always did when he thought a great injustice was being bestowed upon one or all of them. “How come Justin gets out of everything so easily? The rest of us always have to go through with the dares.”

Joey turned to Lance and pinned him with those eyes, the ones that could go from hot to cold in the span of two seconds. Right now they were shooting ice balls at Lance. “The circumstances are a little different here, Lance. Let it go.” Joey said softly. I wanted to hit him then even though he was trying to be nice. He was drawing too much attention to this. He should have just called me a ‘pussy’ and let it go.

“What’s so different about it?” Lance persisted. He was like pit bull with his determination, sinking his teeth into something and not letting it go until someone pried him away from it. “We’ve all had to share who we’re in love with at some point or another, and it’s never easy because you guys are notorious for being evil and finding something to pick on about that person. So why shouldn’t he have to tell us too? Why does he get a different set of rules to play by?” Lance turned to me then and glared at me. “Tell us who the woman is.” He demanded and I shook my head, unable to prevent the tears that had formed from spilling over.

“Christ Lance!” Joey said harshly, his eyes boring holes into Lance’s head. “Can’t you get over the fact that this doesn’t have anything to do with what’s fair or not to you? Let it fuckin’ go. So, Justin is in love. Good for him. He doesn’t have to tell us if he doesn’t want to. More power to him if he doesn’t.” The tension between the two of them was palpable and JC looked back and forth between the two of them wondering who was going to look away first.

“Especially,” Chris said softly and Joey and Lance looked at him simultaneously. “Especially because it’s not a woman.” Chris’s eyes widened as he put two and two together. “It’s not, is it Justin?” There was an audible inhalation from the others as Chris’s words made sense. Damn him for not being as oblivious as people thought he was.

Next to me, Joey covered his eyes with his hand and I groaned. That was an admission if I had ever seen one. I stood and stumbled my way to the door of the room. I had to get out of there, away from the eyes that suddenly saw everything I had been hiding. I had reached the door and had one hand on the knob when JC spoke.

“So, what, you’re gay then?”

I gripped the door handle tightly and leaned forward until my forehead rested on the smooth wood. Escape had been so close. So close. I shrugged and closed my eyes tightly against a fresh wave of tears. There was movement behind me but I didn’t turn to look. I couldn’t handle seeing the men I considered brothers leaving me when I needed them most. I knew that’s what they were doing, and the sound of the door that led to Chris’s room closing was my confirmation. A choked sob escaped my lips and I sank to my knees. Their reaction had been exactly what I had been expecting. I had disgusted them enough that they couldn’t even look at me, let alone be in the same room. I pounded my fist into the floor and turned so that my back was against the door, pulling my knees to my chest and hugging them tightly, my head thrown back so that it rested on the door.

They hated me. They were never going to speak to me again. I was now officially the reason that NSYNC was going to end. Unless they chose to replace me which, I supposed, they very well could do. That thought, the very idea that they could continue on without me, made me cry harder and I pressed my face into my legs to muffle the sound. What would I do without them in my life? As much as they drove me crazy, they were the reason I looked forward to getting out of bed every morning. They were the reason I hadn’t gone completely crazy over the last four years when all around us people were trying to take advantage and all we’d had, all we could truly count on, was each other. Now I had lost that, and with it I had lost everything.

I had to get out of there. Out of the hotel, out of the state, out of the country. I had to find someplace where no one knew who I was and I could start over. Istanbul maybe? Wherever I went, I had to go now, before Lance came back and kicked me out of his room. I rubbed my eyes roughly with my fists, vaulted to my feet and froze, my eyes disbelieving what they saw. JC was there. He hadn’t left. The one person I was most concerned about alienating, the one man who had helped me realize who I was even if he hadn’t known he was helping me, was still there. Why? Why hadn’t he run when the others had?

“I asked the others to give us some time alone so I could talk to you.” He said softly, his blue eyes steady on my face. I nodded dumbly as JC spoke, knowing that speech was out of the question. “You look like you’re ready to run.” JC continued. “Going somewhere?” I nodded and looked guiltily at my feet. “You’re running away aren’t you?”

I looked up sharply then back down at the floor. I should have known that one of them would figure out that I would run. Goddamn predictability. That’s probably why JC was still here, so that he could stop me and they wouldn’t have my disappearance to explain to the press in the morning.

“Let me ask you again.” JC said, rising smoothly from the floor where he had been sitting when the game started. “Are you gay?” With his eyes bearing into me I sighed and nodded. No point in denying the obvious. “Well…” He said turning and moving to the window, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Welcome to the family.”

Huh? Family? We were already brothers. Or at least we used to be. “What family?” I asked. Then understanding dawned on me and I inhaled sharply. “You?” I asked, my voice cracking with disbelief.

“Me.” There was silence after JC answered as he considered his next words. “And now you. And somehow that’s worse.”

“Why worse?” I asked softly, still not sure what was going on.

“Because now,” JC paused and hung his head. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Now, when I dream about what it would be like to kiss you it will be that much worse because now I know you’re gay too so the thought of you actually kissing me back isn’t too farfetched except that it is because…” He trailed off and turned to look at me, and my breath hitched in my throat at the lost look in his eyes. “Because you’re you and you could have anyone and why would you want me?”

“Because…”I trailed off, trying to think of words to explain how I felt, words that were as beautiful as the ones JC put to music. But none came and the silence stretched awkwardly between them until JC spoke to end it.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “Tonight’s a night for confessions I guess.” He laughed a little bitterly.

“You have no idea.” I finally spoke. “And now it’s my turn again.” From the slump of JC’s shoulders I knew that he didn’t know about my feelings for him and he thought that I was going to give him a brush off. I started to speak but he interrupted me.

“Sorry about the note. I told Joey it would be a bad idea but he went ahead and did it anyways.” I frowned. Joey had written that note? Next time I saw him the boy was going to have a new asshole ripped out of him. Why had he lied about it? I growled and JC took a step away from me. “He told me how you freaked out after you got it.” He said tentatively. “If I had known that you would react that way I would have tied him down or something to keep him from slipping it under your door.”

I didn’t know what to say at this point and JC didn’t want to give me a chance to talk apparently because he kept rambling with an apology that should have been coming from Joey, not him. He was facing the window again and in the reflection I could see that his eyes were skittering across the horizon, and he was doing everything he could to avoid looking at me. I decided that perhaps showing him would be better than any words and I moved to stand behind the smaller man, placing my hands on his shoulders. Beneath my touch JC tensed and I leaned my forehead against the back of his head in an attempt to calm him.

“I freaked out,” I whispered finally. “Because I thought that someone had figured out that I had feelings for you.” In front of me, JC stiffened completely and pulled away, sliding around me and moving to stand across the room.

I took a step towards him but he stopped me with one hand. “Don’t. Don’t say those words because you don’t know what hope they’ll give me. So just stop.”

“Tell me about that hope, JC.” I said softly, taking a step towards him again. “Do you hope that I’ll come to you and tell you my feelings?” Another step. “Do you hope that I’ll want to touch you and hold you?” I closed the distance between us and placed my hand behind his neck, my thumb lightly stroking the soft hair at the base of his neck. My voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you hope that I’ll do something like this?” My lips descended and covered the JC’s mouth effectively swallowing whatever words he would have spoken in response. I heard a soft whimper but I didn’t know if it had come from me or from JC. My hand came up to cup his face and my forefinger caressed the soft skin just behind his ear. I felt hands slowly move up my back and this time I knew the sound I heard came from my own throat. JC’s hands settled on my chest, fisting my shirt in his hands before he pushed me away with a sudden ferocity.

I looked at him, my brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“What was that?” JC demanded, his eyes sapphire pools of anger.

“What…I thought it was…”

“What I wanted?”

Now I was getting angry. “Wasn’t it?” I demanded. “Didn’t you want it?”

“Not if you didn’t!”

“But I did!” I yelled back and his eyes widened in surprise. “I did.” I said more softly stepping away from him. “I wanted it because I want…” I sank to the floor and my head fell to my chest and I thought I could hear my heart breaking.

“What?” JC whispered. “What do you want?”

“You.” I finally whispered. I was silent for a long moment as I tried to pick up the pieces of a heart that had been destroyed in the span of a kiss. JC didn’t say anything either, then he was there next to me, one arm around my shoulders. I buried my head in the crook of his neck and cried for what had to be the millionth time that day. “I’ve always wanted you.” I tried to explain between gulps of air. “That’s how I knew I was gay, because I was falling for you and I had been since we first met and I’m sorry if you thought that I only kissed you because you thought I thought you wanted me to. But I did think you wanted me to and I wanted to so badly that it hurt and so I did. Is that so wrong?”

I ran out of breath at some point and JC placed a soft kiss on the top of my head and rubbed my back. I pulled away from the touch, scrambling to place some distance between us. “Don’t touch me.” I said angrily, glad to see the look of hurt that flashed through his eyes. “I need to get out of here.” I said, turning blindly in a circle as I tried to find the door. I paused when I got there and turned to look at JC again. He hadn’t moved from the floor where he had tried to comfort me. “What do you want from me?” I demanded. “You tell me you’ve wanted to kiss me so I kissed you and you pushed me away and I’m confused enough as it is without you throwing all this at me too. So tell me what the hell it is you want from me.”

JC didn’t answer and I sighed and ran one hand through my hair. “I’m outta here.” I yanked the door open and disappeared through it, waiting until it had shut behind me before breaking into a dead run. I didn’t know where I was going or what I would do once I got there, I just knew that I had to get out of there as fast as possible. I turned a corner and cursed when I saw it was dead end before seeing a door with an exit sign over it. I flew through the door and stopped short when faced with the decision of which direction to go, up or down? Up. I wanted to go up. I raced up the eight flights to the roof, taking the steps two at a time, stumbling more than once. My knees ached and I knew there would be bruises on them soon. I threw open the door and gulped hungrily, my lungs aching for air. My head swam and I felt the blood rush to my ears as I bent over and rested my hands on my knees.

When I had caught my breath I walked to the edge of the roof and leaned against the knee-high ledge, the cold concrete biting through my jeans. Now what? What happened next and where did I go from here? Below me I could see the crowd of fans that had managed to find out our hotel and I wondered what they would say if they knew I was in love with JC, that two of us were gay. Would they care? Of course they would care. I was the golden boy of the group I thought bitterly, the fantasy of millions of teenage girls the world over. Not that I had ever wanted to be. But I was and that was the reason I would never tell them.

I don’t know how long I stayed up there watching the lights of the city go out one by one. Long enough to see the fans go home in pairs, their strides tired, as they realized that the five men they wanted to see weren’t going to show that night. Were we ever going to show again as a group? Watching the fans leave only deepened my sadness. They were the last reminder of what had once been and watching them leave was like watching my future disappear. I felt the sudden urge to yell out to them, to make them see me up on the roof, to plead with them to stay. To not give up on us. But I didn’t. What was the point when I had already given up?

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

I groaned as Joey’s voice interrupted my pity party and, shaking my head, I straightened from the ledge and turned angry, defiant eyes on him. “What the hell do you want?”

“Hey, simmer down, Justin.” He said, moving to stand next to me at the ledge. “I just came to see if you were okay?”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Even I winced at the harshness in my voice but I crossed my arms across my chest anyway and glared at something just past Joey’s shoulder.

“Apparently not if you’re up here and he’s down there.” Joey said. Magically he produced cigarettes and lit them, handing one to me as I stared at him dumbfounded. He nodded as he took in my expression. “I know, I know. You think I’m an asshole,” I nodded in agreement, sticking the cigarette in my mouth to avoid saying something I might regret later. “It was for your own good.”

For my own good? “How exactly was that for my own good?” I sputtered, trying to see how he would ever make the connection that making me come out and forcing me to face the man I loved would be good for me.

“Dude, I’ve watched you pine for him and stare longingly at him for almost two years.” Joey said on an exhalation of smoke. “I figured it was time to do something about it.”

“You don’t think that maybe asking me might have been a good idea?” I asked sarcastically. “I suppose you knew that JC was gay too.” It was a statement more than a question but Joey nodded anyway. “Did everyone know but me?” I dragged on the cigarette and wondered briefly when my life had been reduced to rooftop conversations over butts with Joey. Joey nodded again, apologetically this time. “Is anyone else in the group gay?” I asked sarcastically. I looked at him, not bothering to hide my annoyance or my derision. “Let me guess. You’re gay? Or Lance. I always thought he was a little fruity.” I was practically spitting my words now.

“Dude,” Joey began, looking at me strangely. “Don’t you remember the little game of truth or dare we had with Chris a few years back?”

I turned to stare at him in confusion. “Yeah, what about it?” Joey didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for the synapses in my mind to make the connection. “You’re kidding me.” I finally said, understanding dawning. “Chris too? Why don’t I remember this? What about Dani?”

“Yes. You’re not too bright. And Dani’s so the fans don’t get crushed at the thought of one of ‘their’ men not being available to them.” Joey answered my questions in the same rapid-fire way I had asked them. He leaned towards me conspiratorially and continued. “I don’t think the fans will give a rat’s ass if he’s gay or not. Just like they probably won’t care if you are either.”

Probably was too much of a chance to take when everything was on the line. “Right,” I finally answered. “They won’t care.” I didn’t say anything after that and after a while Joey sighed and turned to leave.

“Oh,” He said as if he had just remembered what he had really come up there for. “This is for you.”

I took the piece of paper Joey held out to me and waited until he’d disappeared down the stairs before opening it.

You.

The message wasn’t typed this time. The single word was printed neatly in the handwriting I had become so familiar with over the years and my heart leapt to my throat. It was too much to hope that JC meant what I wanted him to mean, and I felt the tears begin to start again. I really had to work on this crying thing I thought, and I added it to the growing list of things I needed to work on, right under my predictability. I swiped angrily at the tears as they began to fall and in front of me someone cleared his throat. I froze and lifted my head almost afraid to do so for fear that the man I most wanted to see wouldn’t be the one standing there. But he was and a soft cry escaped my lips as I sank to my knees, the paper clutched tightly against my heart.

“Do you mean it?” I whispered. My words seemed to be carried away on the wind but somehow JC heard me and was there, kneeling beside me, wiping away my tears and nodding his head.

“More than I’ve ever meant anything.” “More than you meant it when you said you could die happy if you won a Grammy?” I asked, emotion making the words stick in my throat. I wasn’t trying to be funny but JC chuckled anyway.

“A Grammy means nothing if I don’t have someone to share it with.” He said softly.

I looked up then and saw JC’s eyes shining. “I love you, you know.” I said and he nodded. “I mean really love you. And I have since, well, since forever I think. And I don’t think I can handle this if you’re going to say you want me now and then change your mind tomorrow.”

“I won’t change my mind.” JC said, slipping a warm arm around my shoulders. I let it settle there, not oblivious to the fact that his arm fit perfectly there, like it belonged.

“How can you be sure?” I asked petulantly. He squeezed my shoulder gently.

“I just am.” And somehow that was enough for me.

We sat quietly like that for a moment before the cold finally began to hit me and I started to shake. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “What about the others?” I asked through chattering teeth.

“What about them?”

“What do we tell them? I mean, about us…I mean, are we…well…” I trailed off, wondering when I forgotten how to form coherent sentences.

“Are we an us?” He asked gently and I nodded. “I don’t know. Do you want to be?”

My heart answered before my mouth. “Yes.” I said quickly and he chuckled softly. “I mean,” I continued, trying to be nonchalant. “If you want to be.”

JC laughed again, that laugh that sounds like a song, and placed a soft kiss on my head. “I want to be.” He stood and pulled me to my feet, taking a moment to wrap me in impossibly strong arms for someone so thin. I allowed myself to be led, my eyes following the trail of his feet, which is probably why I slammed into him when he stopped suddenly and whirled around to face me. “I love you, Justin.” He said with such ferocity that I frowned.

“I know you do, JC.”

“Do you?” I nodded again and he nodded with me, his face relaxing into a smile. “Okay.” He said. “Okay. Good.” He turned and started walking again, my hand gripped firmly in his.

And I smiled.