"Would you turn down the damn music? I'm on the phone!" JC screamed.

"Whose idea was it to get Lance the Funny Girl soundtrack for Christmas? Oh-oh-oh, I think it was yours, JC!" Chris danced around JC with glee.

"Grow up," JC scowled.

"You're too good for him anyway, Liz!" Chris yelled, and JC backhanded him. Chris whimpered.

"Did you just hit Chris?" Liz asked from the other end of the phone line.

"Uh, no, baby. He just tripped. Old people do that sometimes. He's on like his third hip," JC shot a warning glare at Chris. JC's girlfriend hated it when he hit his bandmates.

"So, when can you visit?"

"Oh, soon, I think," JC replied vaguely. He didn't really think he'd be able to visit soon, and he usually handled Liz's questions by lying to her. He felt somewhat bad about it, but he could never seem to help himself.

"That's what you said last time, JC," Liz said, trying hard not to sound nagging.

" I know, Liz. But there isn't anything I can do about it. We're booked solid with touring, and meet and greets, TV interviews.." He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. He just opened his mouth and out poured the lies.

"Well.okay, JC. I should go, my friends are here," Liz replied, trying to hide her disappointment.

"All right, then I'll let you go," JC jumped eagerly at the chance to end the uncomfortable conversation.

"Bye, then," Liz said quickly and hung up her phone.

"I love you," JC told the dialtone. Chris looked up at JC from the floor.

"You all right, JC?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered abruptly and stormed down the hallway of the bus to the lounge.

"Lance, turn that gay crap off!" he hollered. Lance jumped and knocked over his bottle of nail polish.

"Sorry. I didn't know you had such a problem with Barbra," he sniffed, reaching for the bottle of remover to wipe the spill off his big toe.

JC flopped down on the couch across from Lance and folded his arms tightly across his chest. He sighed heavily, looked at Lance, looked down, and sighed again. Lance dipped the brush into the polish and regarded his toenail thoughtfully. JC sighed again and Lance looked over at him.

"You want to talk about something, JC?" Lance inquired with a smile.

"No, I just-well, it's Liz."

"I thought you loved Liz."

"I do, but I can't seem to tell her. And it scares the hell out of me, I."

"This looks like a job for.SUPERMAN!" Joey, wearing his Superman jersey, with a blue towel tied around his neck, leapt into the lounge. He struck his Man of Steel pose in the center of the room.

"That was a pretty good entrance, Joey," Lance applauded.

"Shhhh-I don't want the others to know that I am Superman, Lois!" Joey admonished.

"I have asked you," Lance said calmly, " not to call me Lois."

"But why, Lois?"

Lance jumped off the couch and flung his bottle of hot pink nail polish violently at Joey's head.

"Because my name isn't fucking Lois!" he shrieked and ran out of the room.

"There's nail polish on my cape!" Joey complained.

"It isn't a cape! Agggghhh! It's a towel, damn it! Damn it all!" JC began slamming his head repeatedly into the wall.

"JC?" Joey began uncertainly.

"What?" he bellowed back.

"Ummmmm..are you okay?"

JC ignored him and tore down the hall. He shoved Chris out of his way and jumped into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. He started frantically rummaging through the drawers.

"JC, if you're looking for your drugs to shoot up, they're not in there," Chris told the door.

JC flung open the door and faced Chris.

"Where are they?" he demanded.

"I took them. You don't need them, JC. What would Liz say if she knew?"

"Liz doesn't know."

"Maybe she should."

"You wouldn't."

"I might."

As JC was reaching for Chris' throat, the door to the bus opened and in walked Justin Timberlake.

"What's up, yo?" he greeted Lance, who was cowering underneath the kitchen table.

"JC's gonna kill Chris because Chris took his drugs," Lance whispered back, trembling.

"Oh," Justin said with a shrug and got his box of Apple Jacks from the cupboard.

"Um, don't you even care that Chris is about to die?"

"No," Justin said and poured his cereal.

JC grabbed Chris around the throat and threw him into the table.

"You're not telling Liz anything, old man! I'll kill you!" JC raged.

"Chill out, you. You're bugging me." Justin dumped the last of the milk into his bowl.

"Oh, so sorry, Your Highness," JC apologized sarcastically.

"It's okay, yo. Just don't do it again. Did Brit call?"

"You mean did your girlfriend call while you were out with some underaged hoe wearing a baby blue tube top that you picked up at a meet and greet?" Chris asked from the floor.

"Isn't that what I just said, yo?"

"No," Lance answered, "Britney didn't call. But Christina did."

"Oh," Justin began shoveling cereal into his big mouth.

"Don't worry, Chris! I'll save you from evil, drug-crazed JC! Faster than a speeding bullet.." Joey bounded, superhero like, into the kitchen.

"What took you so long?" Chris demanded.

"Had to fix my cape," Joey indicated his new towel.

"Hey, who wants to watch a porn flick from Joey's collection?" Chris suggested.

"Me!" JC and Joey chorused.

"Me first!" Justin announced.

"I hate those things. They're so degrading to my gender," Lance complained.

"Shutup, woman," Joey ordered cheerfully and the four men waltzed off down the hall for an evening of naked women on television. JC pushed all thoughts of Liz out of his head. I'll think about her tomorrow, he decided silently. He had been deciding that an awful lot lately.

Lance watched his menfolk go, sighed, and got a carton of Rocky Road out of the freezer. He picked up a spoon and sat down at the kitchen table to spend the night alone with his newest harlequin romance novel.

"Some girls," he said aloud, contemplating the busty woman being fawned over on the front cover of the paperback, "have all the luck."

"JC, Liz has called for you three times. Where've you been?" Chris pounced on JC the second he walked through the bus' door.

"Out," JC replied, "Do we have any Pepsi?" He began rummaging through the fridge.

"Excuse me, but is that lipstick on your collar?" Chris grabbed JC by the shirt. JC jerked away.

"No," he snapped.

"Yes it is," Lance said, "It's Avon brand-rose red."

JC and Chris both regarded him suspiciously.

"Hey, I was avon lady of the year last year," Lance explained with pride. Chris shook his head in disgust and turned back to JC.

"Why are you cheating on Liz?"

"You know, Chris, I can do whatever I want. Why don't you bug Justin every time he comes home? You know he's been out there running around on Britney," JC said, trying to control his anger. The truth was he was ashamed of what he had done, but he'd be damned if anyone else knew that.

"Justin's different. He's a jerk. You're not. What the hell is going on, JC? Why are you deliberately trying to ruin your relationship with Liz?"

"I'm not trying to ruin anything, Chris. And it's not like Liz and I are married, I'm a free man, I can do what I want-" He was rambling again, and sweating through his shirt. He was burning it later tonight, he decided.

"I talked to Liz the last time she called," Chris began carefully.

"So what? Jesus, Chris, did you work for the Inquisition when you were younger?"

Chris chose to ignore the reference to his old age and continued.

"The upshot is she's coming for a visit tommorrow."

"What? Damn you, Chris! You had no right to invite my girlfriend here!"

"I'm sorry," Lance interrupted, "but I'm confused. You told me yesterday that you loved her-why are you cheating on her and avoiding her?"

"AAAHHHH!"

JC was saved from answering by a piercing scream from down the hall

"Joey, what the hell?" JC began to ask, but he stopped. He didn't really want to know how Joey had ended up stuck in the bathroom window.

"I was trying to fly," he said defensively.

"You big Italian oaf! That's the smallest window in the world-we're gonna have to break the whole bus to get you out!" Chris yelled at Joey's ass, as his head was outside the window.

"No, we won't. Where's that shit Justin puts on his hair? We'll grease him out with that," JC decided.

"Be careful, we don't want him getting hurt," Lance fussed in the hall.

"Shutup, woman," JC and Chris said in unison.

"sexist pigs," Lance muttered and retreated to the kitchen.

Two hours later, the two men had managed to free their comrade from the window.

"Don't do it again, you dildobrain," JC smacked Joey on the head.

"I don't know why my superpowers failed," Joey mused, "Maybe there's some kryptonite or something around here." He cast a wary glance around him.

JC rolled his eyes.

"You had better remember that Liz is coming tommorrow," Chris warned.

JC glowered at him.

"How could I forget?"

"No more of this running around stuff. You're not Justin."

"Shutup, Chris. You're not my father, though you're old enough to be," JC stalked down the hall to sulk in the rec room.

Justin paraded into the bus.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Chris snapped sarcastically and stormed off to his bed.

"What crawled up his ass and died?" Justin asked Lance, who sighed and shook his head.

"You don't want to know."

"You're right," Justin said thoughtfully, "I probably don't."

"Liz is coming tommorrow," Lance informed him.

"Liz?"

"JC's girlfriend," Lance explained patiently.

"Oh," Justin responded.

"I'm worried, Justin. I really don't know what's going to happen. JC's all freaking out, and I don't know why. Is he really just that scared of a commitment, or is it something else? Some kind of deep, dark secret that none of us know about? Is he really gay? Does he have an illegetimate child somewhere? Maybe he doesn't love her and he just is saying he does? Is it his drug addiction? Justin, what do you think is driving this wedge between them? Justin?" Lance looked up. Justin had left the room.

"Well. I never," Lance sniffed and went back to reading the romance novel.

"Where the bloody hell is JC? Damn him, Liz is gonna be here any minute! If he doesn't get his ass back here I'm gonna..." Chris was ranting and raving like a crazed old man.

"You're gonna what, old man?" JC, stepping into the bus, questioned with a grin.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been bloody panicking!" Chris demanded.

"I know. You should learn to control yourself. It isn't good for a man your age to exert himself so much, you'll have a heart attack."

"Boys," Lance moved gracefully between the fuming Chris and the smirking JC, " the important thing is JC's here and he's going to be nice to Liz."

"She's my girlfriend, idiot, of course I will."

"Because you love her," Lance prompted.

"Yeah," JC replied uncomfortably, "what you said."

"JC!" Chris and Lance yelled in unison.

"Butt out!" JC ordered firmly.

"Men and their commitment phobias," Lance began, shaking his head. JC and Chris stared at him strangely and his eyes widened in panic.

"I mean-us men and our commitment phobias...haha, yeah, us men...oh, screw it. I'm going to go pluck my eyebrows," Lance marched resolutely off down the hall.

"You know, I'm getting really worried about him," JC told Chris.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Last night I caught him watching one of those trashy talk shows."

"So what?"

"The topic was 'my family won't accept my cross-dressing.' He was crying and eating ice cream," JC lowered his voice.

"Maybe we shouldn't let him share a hotel room with Joey anymore," Chris said thoughtfully.

"That's probably a good idea. And we should make him watch the porn flicks with us next time," JC replied.

"Excuse me?"

Both men jumped and turned around guiltily.

"Liz! Hi! Come in, sweetie! Let me help you with your bag!" JC and Chris stumbled over each other trying to welcome her.

She laughed lightly.

"I've got it, thank you."

"Well, um, let me show you where to put it," JC said, and Liz followed him down the hall, chatting easily about her flight and the limo ride over. JC didn't hear a word she said.

"You can put your stuff here," he interrupted her midsentence, and she glanced at him in surprise. He was red and sweating, and pulling at his shirt collar.

"JC, honey, why are you so nervous? What's wrong?" she demanded to know.

"Nothing! It's just hot in here! That's all!" He practically screamed, his slim grip on sanity broken.

Lance, in the bathroom, and Chris in the kitchen both edged, warily, closer to the couple.

"Damn you, JC Chasez! You have to talk to me! If you can't trust me, we don't have anything real, and I might as well leave," she grabbed her suitcase.

"No, Liz, don't do this. You don't want to know, I can't talk about it, I, I...." He was nearly in tears now.

"I can't believe you. What on earth can possibly be so bad that you can't tell me?" Liz exclaimed in frustration.

"I AM IMPOTENT!" JC shrieked hysterically.

"What?" came three astonished cries.

"I'm impotent, okay? I'm the face of e.d. Me and Bob Dole! Are you happy now?" JC collapsed on his knees, crying uncontrollably and wailing.

"Well," Lance said, " that certainly was unexpected. I thought you were finally going to come clean about your drug addiction."

Chris whacked Lance on the back of his pretty head.

"Shutup, idiot," he hissed, nodding at Liz, who was staring at the two men and Lance before her in shocked horror.

"Crack addiction? You're a DRUGGIE?"

"I-no-yes-DAMN IT!" JC began to thrash about on the floor, weeping and moaning. Lance began to weep too, his avon brand mascara streaking down his cheeks. Chris stared helplessly at his fallen comrades. Liz picked up her bag and tried to say something, but couldn't find the words.

In the middle of this tragic comedy Justin and Joey walked in.

"You banging Britney tonight?" Joey asked Justin.

"Nah," Justin replied, "this girl I met yesterday. I think her name is Mandy. Moore, maybe? I don't think it matters."

"Isn't she only like fifteen?"

Justin shrugged. Joey, confused by this, decided to ask old and wise Chris if it was okay to bang fifteen year olds if they looked old. He thought not, but then he was very stupid.

"Chris?" Joey meandered down the hall and nearly stumbled over JC.

"Not now, Joey," Chris waved him aside.

"I can't deal with this. I'm leaving," Liz announced. JC let out a cry of anguish, gave one final flop, and lay prone on the floor. Lance fell to his knees beside JC and cried even harder.

"You can't leave! JC loves you!" Chris yelled, freaking out.

"You're going to leave just because JC has trouble performing? You hussy!" Lance shrieked.

"I'm leaving because you people are fucking deranged!" she screamed back.

"Liz, I'm begging you-I'd get down on my knees except I'm so old I could never get up again." Chris held his hands out pleadingly.

"Forget it, Chris. This is stupid," Liz pushed past him down the hall and into the kitchen. Joey tried to comfort the sobbing Lance.

Justin was seated at the table eating a hamburger.

"What's wrong with you?" Liz yelled at him.

"Huh?"

"Lance is gay, Joey is stupid, Chris is part of the geriatric population, JC is an impotent junkie-what's your deal?"

"I," Justin said very slowly, as though speaking to a retarded child, "do not have a deal. I am Justin Timberlake, and I am perfect."

Liz stared at him in disbelief, screamed in frustration, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Justin shrugged. He glanced at the clock and decided he would stop off at Christina's before heading to Mandy's. It was tough having to accommodate so many women. Not that he could blame them for wanting him, though.

"Justin! It's terrible! JC is passed out and he's got some kind of impotency problem, and lance won't stop crying, and Joey-well....hey, where are you going?"

"Out," Justin replied, grabbing his car keys.

"Our band is falling apart, and you're going out?" Chris screeched.

"If you don't shut up, I'm going to put you in a home," Justin answered, and left.

Chris collapsed at the kitchen table. This was ridiculous.

"I have to do something," he declared and jumped out of his chair. He paced the length of the kitchen and scratched his forehead.

"What can I do? How can I save the band?" Chris stopped pacing. JC was right, the exertion was bad for his heart. He sat down again and concentrated on not crying.

"Liz left, didn't she?" JC entered the kitchen, shaking.

"Yeah, JC, she did. I'm sorry."

"I'm impotent, Chris."

"I know, JC."

"She left me because of that?"

"I don't think so. I think it was the drugs. And the fit you had scared her."

JC slid onto the floor and stared at the ceiling.

"I really blew it," he said sadly.

"She should've been more supportive," Chris answered, suddenly getting angry, " She should have realized that you loved and needed her. Get up, JC. She's not worth it."

"Yes, she was," JC stood up, "and I messed up. I guess I'll just have to live with it. She thinks we're all crazy."

"I am crazy," Chris said defensively, and JC grinned.

"Of course you are," he replied soothingly.

"I still love you, JC," Lance said timidly. He had caught the tail end of his bandmates' conversation.

"Thanks, Lancey," JC smiled. Someday, Lance thought, someday. He could wait. He would wait, darn it.

"Lance! Turn that shit down!" JC screamed in exasperation.

Lance, in the lounge, shot a dirty look down the hall and defiantly turned the stereo up.

"What the hell is wrong with him? He's been listening to 'What A Girl Wants' nonstop for four hours! I'm gonna kill him!" JC leapt out of his chair and was halfway down the hall before Chris got to him.

"Chris," JC said very quietly, " let go of my legs before I kick your head in."

"JC," Chris answered from the floor, clutching JC's legs tightly, "you've had a rough weekend and you're just crabby. Don't take it out on Lansten, you know how sensitive he can be."

"But I can't take any more Christina Aguilera, Chris! I can't! It's bad enough that I'm a impotent junkie who just got kicked to the curb-do I have to put up with that ear-splitting noise for hours, too? Am I in hell?"

"We're not in hell, we're in Pontiac," Joey, shockingly enough, was confused. He was silenced by a warning glare from JC.

"It doesn't matter, JC. We're here and we have to go check in at the hotel. Maybe you'll meet a really great girl at the meet and greet," Chris soothed.

JC kicked him in the head.

"Ouch! Hell was that for?"

"For reminding me of sex," JC said sourly and stalked off the bus.

Chris sighed and picked himself up off the floor. He needed to talk to Lance. Something was up, and whatever it was, it wasn't JC.

Chris giggled at his dirty thought and headed down the hall.

"Hey Lancey, we're here, obviously. We have to get our stuff together and check into the hotel rooms," Chris shouted over Christina's warbling.

"I'm not sharing with Joey," Lance screeched back and folded his arms obstinately.

Chris sighed heavily and flipped off the stereo.

"All right, Lansten. What's up your ass?"

"Funny you should put it-never mind. Forget it. I just want to get off this stupid bus."

"Okay, then. You mind sharing with JC?"

Lance glared. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No," Chris replied, puzzled.

"Fine. I'll share with JC, as long as he stays out of the crack. At least he won't be having wild sex all night."

"Yeah, um, I wouldn't say that around him. He might knock your head off. Anyway, I think he has to go to the doctor after the meet and greet."

"Bully for him," Lance said sarcastically.

"Know what you need, Lancey? A nice girl, that's what," Chris commented, regarding Lance oddly. Lance shifted uncomfortably and remained silent.

"In fact, I'm sure that's what you need. We'll pick you out a girl at the autograph thing today," Chris continued.

"I don't need-I don't swing-I-oh, hell. Okay, Chris. Fine. I need a girl. Get me a girl," Lance gave in.

"Oh, good," Chris' relief was painfully apparent, "then you'll feel better. Just make sure you don't have sex around JC, he'll feel all bad."

"Okay, whatever," Lance said flatly and Chris skipped off down the hall, giddy with excitement over the thought of finally getting Lance with a woman.

"What," Lance asked his Christina CD insert, "have I gotten myself into here?"

Lance, seated at the autograph table, glanced around nervously. They were nearing the end of the line of autograph-seekers, and so far none of the girls had been over the age of fifteen. Chris, seated next to Lance, looked wildly disappointed, and Lance tried to look so, too. He prayed that no legal girls would come parading in. There had been one guy-ostensibly there for his sister-who had been real cute, but Lance did not dare to voice this opinion.

"Hey," Chris elbowed Lance in the ribs and he winced, "How about her?"

"Who?"

"That one-she looks older," Chris gestured to the very last girl in line. She was wearing a baby-blue tube top.

"But she's obviously a hoe," Lance argued.

Chris shot him a disgusted look.

"You only need her for one night, Lansten. It's not like you're marrying her and taking her home to your mom."

Lance had to concede this point. However, he wasn't quite through yet.

"But she's wearing baby blue. She's got to be a Justin fan. She'll probably want him, and you know he'll take her."

"No-he's busy with the one in the UNC jersey."

"But she's only, like, fourteen!"

Chris shrugged. Justin wasn't his concern right now.

Lance opened his mouth to protest again, but it was too late. The girl had made her way past JC, Joey, and Justin to Chris and Lance.

Chris smiled up at her and gestured to Lance.

"He'll take care of you," he said and the girl's smile faded.

"Hi," Lance squeaked and she frowned. Chris glared at Lance.

"Um...what's your name?" Lance stumbled.

"Allison," she replied and handed him a picture to sign.

"Okay-um-there you go, Al," Lance signed his name with a flourish.

"Don't call me Al."

"Sorry," he apologized nervously. Chris glared at him. Okay, Lance, he told himself silently, you have to do this.

"Hey, Allison, you busy tonight?"

"Why, does JC need a date?"

"Uhhhh...no. I was thinking more along the lines of you and I."

She burst out laughing.

"Oh, that's a good one, Lance. Funny-you and I.....oh, hahahaha." She wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks. Lance turned albino-white.

"Why," Chris asked slowly, " are you laughing at the thought of spending the night with Lance?"

"Duh. I'm a girl."

"And what," Chris continued while Lance was holding his head in his hands, "is that supposed to mean?"

"Because Lance wouldn't want a girl," a mystified Allison answered, " he'd want a guy, obviously."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, old man," Allison lost her patience, " Lance putts from the rough! He drives on the wrong side of the street! He's gay, damn it! A full-fledged fairy! A pink warrior! A flaming homosexual! You had to know that-just look at him!" With that she swept her picture from the table and flounced off.

"Lance," Chris began.

"Forget it, Chris! I don't have to explain myself to you! I'm sick of pretending. Kick me out of the band-banish me- I don't care anymore! Screw you!" Lance screamed and jumped out of his chair. He started to stalk away, and then turned one last time.

"And you know what else?" he yelled.

"What?" Chris asked wearily, wondering what else there possibly could be.

"I like the Backstreet Boys! Is Nick Carter sexual? YESSSSSSS!" And Lance stormed off.

Chris grabbed at his chest and fell out of his seat, writhing on the ground. He was too old for this.

JC, concerned, knelt next to him.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, JC. I really don't." Chris passed out.

JC fumbled with the lock on the door and shoved his way into the hotel room, struggling with his bags. He tripped over his untied shoelace and slammed into the sink counter. The complimentary shampoo, lotion, and conditioner bottles rolled off the counter and bounced off his head.

"Joey was wrong," he grumbled, "we are in hell." He struggled to his feet, rubbing his head.

"You all right?"

"AUGGGH!" JC leapt at the sound of Lance's voice and stumbled backwards, tripping over the strap of his bag, and landed right on his ass.

"Lance, you bitch, you scared the hell out of me! What the hell are you doing in here, anyway?" he demanded.

Lance was seated on one of the twin beds. He did not even look at JC, much less make a move to help him up.

"It's my room too."

"But you're gay."

"What does that have to do with our room?"

"Damn it, Lance, you practically killed Chris. He barely made it to his room. I thought he was going to have heart failure."

"I'm gay, JC. I can't help it."

"I know, Lance, but did you have to tell us like that? Nick Carter is sexual? For Pete's sake!" JC gave up trying to disentangle himself from his bag and resigned himself to a life on the floor of room 314 in the Holiday Inn.

"This is the way I am, and I'm not apologizing for it. I'll leave the band if you guys want me to," Lance replied flatly.

"Aw geez, Lansten. No one's throwing you out. You just really caught us off guard."

Lance's face lit up.

"You guys don't hate me?"

"Hell, Lance, no."

Lance's grin grew wider, but he knew better than to push too far.

"Even Justin?"

"Damn it, you know Justin. He doesn't care about anything else, why would he care about this?"

"And Joey?"

"Joey's too dumb to notice anything."

"And Chris?"

"Lance! I told you! We're not kicking you out! Drop it!"

Lance flinched, and JC sighed.

"We have sound check in forty-five minutes," JC said, "and I think I'll need that long to get up."

He caught the double meaning of his words before Lance did. JC blanched and bit his lip.

"I thought you were going to the doctor," Lance said gently.

"I changed my appointment, because the all-powerful author of this story forgot that's where I was supposed to be now."

"Well," Lance replied, "I'm glad she screwed up. I'm glad you're here." "Are you flirting with me?" JC demanded nervously.

Stung, Lance retorted, " No. I like MEN, remember? Why would I flirt with you?"

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"Just that you're not much of a man!"

"Look who's talking, pansy!" JC yelled back.

"Shut up, jerk!"

"Don't tell me to shut up, you fairy!"

"Go to hell!" Lance shrieked and ran out of the room, kicking JC in the shin.

"You kick like a girl!" JC screamed after him, determined to have the last word.

Lance slammed the door as hard as he could and stomped down the hall. He needed a Pepsi.

JC, meanwhile, managed to get to his feet. He stumbled across the room and flopped down on one of the beds.

"This sucks," he said aloud. He glanced over at Lance's stuff on the other side of the room.

"Why does Lance have to be gay? And why did everyone know except us? Even the fans know! He sells Avon, for God's sake! And now I'm screaming at nothing, alone in a cheap hotel room! Everything I have ever thought about the world is wrong! I'm going crazy!" JC raged.

"I wish I were crazy. Everything would be easier if I were," he muttered.

"Lance, you can't quit now. If I quit every time JC yelled at me......" Chris said wearily.

"If you could have heard him, Chris...."

"What exactly did you want him to do, Lance? How did you think he was going to react?"

"Don't you yell at me too!" Lance's eyes filled with tears.

"Look, Lansten. You have to give us time to get used to this. We didn't know you were, well, you know."

"You didn't want to know!" Lance accused him.

Chris pulled the blanket over his head.

"Well, you sure didn't want to tell us," he replied, his voice muffled.

Before Lance could answer, there was a knock at the door, and JC marched in, literally dragging Justin with him. Joey followed behind, like a good puppy.

"Sit," JC ordered Lance, Joey, and Justin.

The two men and Lance obeyed with varying degrees of unhappiness.

"Okay. This is what we have so far. Lance is a fair-sorry, a homosexual. I am impotent. I'm also a junkie, but you guys already knew that. Chris is so old he's mentioned in the Bible. Joey is dumber than a pile of bricks, and Justin is a walking STD with an attitude problem. Are we missing anything here? Anyone else have any shocking confessions? Pretend this is the Ricki Lake show. Lance, do you have a boyfriend? Any kids, Justin? Joey-do you have a brain? Anybody?"

The room remained silent. Chris poked his head out from the blanket.

"Okay, then," JC continued firmly.

"JC?"

"What?" he barked.

"You have a little-um-there's some powder on your nose."

"Oh. Thanks," JC wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"All right," he went on, " this is what we're gonna do. Lance, you're not quitting. All the fans already know you're gay-this can't hurt us. Look at the Backstreet Boys-Kevin and Brian are obviously having a homosexual incestous relationship and their album sales keep going up."

"Speaking of going up-"began Chris.

"Yeah, I know. Here's the deal. I'll go to the doctor for my impotency if y'all will stop bugging me about the crack."

Lance looked over at Chris, who nodded slowly.

"Yeah-I guess that'll work. Frankly, I like you better when you're on drugs. You're a lot nicer," Chris decided.

"Fine by me, as long as you guys don't mind my homosexuality and my love for the Backstreet Boys."

"Umm.....the homosexuality we can deal with, but the Backstreet Boys thing is a little weird," JC said slowly.

"Keep the Nick Carter shrine out of our sight and the music down, and we'll deal with it," Chris ordered.

"All right," Lance agreed.

"Is everyone okay then?" JC asked. Joey, Chris, and Lance nodded, Joey dumbly.

"Okay, guys. We have a show in an hour. We have to leave in fifteen minutes," JC checked his watch.

"That's not enough time," Lance fretted and raced out the door.

JC looked over at Chris.

"You should've told him about Nick's girlfriend Melissa," he reprimanded gently.

Chris shrugged.

"I don't want to have to be the one to tell him that Nick is marrying her next year, it'd break his heart. Get out of here, you guys. I'll meet you down in the lobby in fifteen minutes."

The other three N Syncers filed out of Chris' room. Chris shut the door behind them and walked back to his bed. He rifled through his wallet until he found the scrap of paper he was looking for. He studied the numbers scrawled on it and picked up the phone, slowly dialing. It rang twice, and he nearly hung up, but she answered before he could.

"Hello?"

"Hi, um, is this, um, Dr. Emily Ward?" he stumbled slightly over the word "doctor."

The voice on the other end of the line laughed lightly.

"This is she. How can I help you?"

"Oh, it isn't me, it's my friend JC......."

"Would someone get Justin the hell off the stage!" JC screamed.

The concert had technically been over for half an hour, but Justin refused to leave the stage. It took several large bodyguards to drag him off, still warbling.

"I wish we didn't have to do this after every show," Chris complained.

"Now, where the hell did Lance go?" JC asked irritably.

Chris glanced around and laughed.

"Got a better question for you, JC. Where's Jordan Knight?"

JC's eyes met Chris'.

"Are you saying that...." and Chris nodded. JC spat.

"Oh, ew! Ew! Gross! Now I feel dirty! And you wonder why I do drugs!"

"I don't anymore," replied Chris.

Joey wandered over, a candy bar in one hand and a sandwich in the other.

"Can we stop and eat on the way back?"

"You're eating now!" JC snapped.

"But I'm starving, JC," Joey whined.

Before JC could kill him, Chris stepped in.

"You can order room service, Joey," he said.

Joey bounded away happily.

"We have to find Lance," JC said wearily.

"No, you don't. I'm right here," Lance appeared out of nowhere, his hair disheveled, his makeup smeared, and his pants on backwards.

"Oh, good night," JC muttered and stomped off after Joey.

"Well, Lansten, let's go," Chris said. Lance was grinning goofily. Chris shook his head and Lance followed him into the limo.

JC let himself into his room. Lance had disappeared after they had arrived back at the hotel. Where he had gone, JC did not want to know. He flipped on the lightswitch and kicked off his shoes.

"Hi, JC."

JC looked over at his bed and then rubbed his eyes. She had to be an illusion. He was hallucinating.

"I'm not an illusion," the naked woman on his bed said, " I'm Dr. Emily Ward. I'm here to fix your impotency problem. Your friend Chris called me."

"You're a doctor?" he sputtered.

"Mmm...more or less. Put it this way-you'll be all better when I'm through."

JC grinned and flipped the lights off again. Chris was a good friend, indeed. So maybe Lance was gay. It could be worse, JC reflected just before Emily ripped off his pants, Lance could be a troll like Howie.

"Lance, would you stop crying?" Chris muttered irritably.

"I can't help it," Lance sniffled, "weddings make me cry. And I'm just so happy for JC and Emily...and I'm so honored that Emily picked me as her maid of honor."

"Well, pink is your color," Chris replied, indicating Lance's dress.

"The wedding was so beautiful," Lance sighed.

Chris glanced around. Joey was stuffing himself with food. Justin was practically having sex with one of the bridesmaids on the dance floor. Twenty thousand screaming, crying, N Sync-T shirt wearing teenyboppers surrounded the reception hall. And Lance, in his pink dress, served as Emily's maid of honor. Chris grinned.

Lance watched JC and Emily, his jealousy carefully hidden. Somewhere, someday, he thought, and smiled.

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