Comfortable 
By:  Lara

“Hi…you've reached JC and…well, just me, I guess. Leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. We're home for about a month, so I will actually get back to you this time. Thanks.”

“Joshua…you should really change your message. You kinda sound like a fool. This is Gabby, babe. I'll be home from Bible Study at six, so give me a call. I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. See you then.”

JC stared at the answering machine, watching the little red light blink on and off, signifying that someone had left him a message. He listened to the message, then listened to it again. Why did he feel so nervous? Why wasn't he happy to hear from her?

JC deleted the message, then went for his wallet and keys. His refrigerator was empty, and he needed to get some food in the house. The refrigerator wasn't the only part of his life that was empty, but he forced himself not to dwell on that. One day at a time, isn't that what all the self-help groups said? And he definitely needed help. 

I just remembered that time at the market/You snuck up behind me and jumped on my shopping cart…and rolled down Aisle Five/You looked behind you, smiled back at me/Crashed into a rack full of magazines…they asked us if we could leave… 

 

“Dammit, Josh, you push this thing like a fucking old woman!” Justin whispered from behind JC, making him jump.

“God, Justin!” JC said, annoyed. Justin darted around him, grabbed the shopping cart, and took off at full speed. JC stopped walking and watched in horror as Justin headed straight for a rack of teeny magazines. Justin looked behind him and smiled at JC, his beautiful grin lighting up his entire handsome face. JC had to smile. He couldn't help it. He winced, though, when the cart sent all the magazines flying.

“You know, there has to be some sort of sweet irony in this,” Justin observed, as he pulled back the cart and watched the wheels run over pictures of his own face. “Shouldn't this mean something?”

“Excuse me, boys?” An angry assistant manager walked over. Justin poked up his sunglasses, and JC pulled his hat down tighter. “I think maybe you should leave. There are other stores you can cause disasters in.”

“Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am,” JC said. He dragged Justin away, and they both burst into laughter as soon as they were out the door. 

“Excuse me,” a voice said. JC jumped and turned around. “I need to get past you,” the man said politely.

“Oh, right, sorry.” JC realized that he and his cart had been blocking Aisle Five as he reminisced. He quickly moved so the man could pass him. JC sighed, then wandered over to Aisle Six. There had to be something there that didn't remind him of Justin. 

“Joshua!” Gabrielle squealed, hugging him as soon as she opened the door of her apartment. “You look…” She sighed in dismay as she took in his jeans and simple blue tshirt. “You look comfortable.”

“I am…we're watching that jazz special on PBS tonight, remember? You said you'd cook dinner?” JC stepped inside the immaculate apartment, so empty and clean, just like his own house.

“Oh, right…I guess I forgot. I was thinking we could go to that snazzy new restaurant down on Fifth,” she said, pushing back her silky blond hair.

“Dammit, Gabrielle,” JC muttered, flopping down on her sofa.

“Joshua!” Gabrielle snapped. “I'll change, okay?” She looked down at her silk pantsuit. “I'll change, but you'll have to order in for dinner.”

“Right,” JC sighed, going for the phone book. 

Can't remember/What went wrong last September/Though I'm sure you'd remind me if you had to…Our love was comfortable and so broken in… 

 

JC stood on the front stoop of Gabrielle's building, wondering for the thousandth time what in the world had gone wrong. Everything was perfect. NSYNC was still on top, and JC and Justin were both involved in writing and producing for other people. They had been together as a couple for almost eight months, and everything was perfect. Until September. JC now hated September, because it only could remind him of terrible things. The attacks on innocent people, obviously, but also the attack on his heart and sanity. He could not for the life of him remember exactly what had started the argument. They had both been bitchy for a few days, and JC finally said something to Justin about growing up and acting his age. Justin had retorted with a comment about JC growing up and acting his sexual preference. Justin was bisexual and confident in himself. JC was bisexual and not quite ready to admit it to himself. JC snapped and called Justin a diva, a selfish fool who didn't know how to act like an adult. Justin had said that maybe if he was such a diva, his ego would take up too much room in their large house. Maybe he should move out. Maybe, JC had replied, and suddenly Justin was gone.

His fingers ached to dial the number he knew so well. Justin had kept his house, even though he had officially been living with JC. He wanted to call, to ask what in the world had caused everything to fall apart, but he couldn't. He missed Justin too much, loved him even more…and it would kill him to hear Justin hang up on him. 

I sleep with this new girl I'm still getting used to/My friends all approve, saying she's gonna be good for you/They throw me high-fives/She says the Bible is all that she reads/And prefers that I not use profanity/Your mouth was so dirty… 

 

“Hi.” JC fell into the booth next to Lance. “Where's Chris?”

“Playing basketball with Justin,” Joey said gently.

“Oh.” JC picked up the Hard Rock Café menu and slipped it behind him on the seat. Old habits died hard.

“How are you, Jayce?” Lance asked. “I haven't seen you in a while. How's Gabrielle?”

“Good…good,” JC answered evasively.

“She's a great girl, JC. You are really lucky,” Lance went on.

“Then why don't YOU date her?” JC snapped.

“Look, JC, we know you're having a problem adjusting back to…well…girls, but it's the right thing. She's a nice person, and she's so good for you right now,” Lance said, ignoring JC's outburst.

Lance had introduced JC to Gabrielle. She was a model, from Iowa, and her sunny blond hair made JC think of corn, for some weird reason. She was beautiful, but empty, though her heart was probably in the right place. She was a devout Christian, which was why Lance and his family all liked her. She kept everything neat and orderly in her life as well as her apartment, and expected anyone close to her to do the same. She couldn't find fault with JC's appearance or home, but she didn't like his vocabulary.

“Joshua, why do you feel the need to swear like a sailor?” Gabrielle would whine. She had been named after the angel Gabriel, and she felt the need to wave her halo and wings over anyone she met. “You're such an intelligent man…and it's just not right to use that language.”

So JC held his tongue, remembering all the words he'd say when in bed with Justin. Justin had the foulest gutter-mouth in the world when it came to sex, and JC could easily keep up with him. “Fucks” and “oh shits” and “dammit, God, yes” would pour from their mouths, and JC could just imagine the horror on Gabrielle's face if she ever knew it. It wouldn't match the horror on her face that would appear if she knew he had ever been involved with Justin, however. Gabrielle had no idea JC was bisexual, and he knew that was wrong…but he was safe and clean and preferred not to inform her of that little tidbit of information at the moment. 

Life of the party…and she swears that she's artsy/But you could distinguish Miles from Coltraine…our love was comfortable and so broken in/She's perfect, so flawless, or so they say… 

 

JC could hear Gabrielle's peal of laughter from across the room. He had to practically promise every bracelet at Tiffany's before she'd agree to go with him to this art show. It was dressy and classy, that she appreciated, but he knew she was slightly shocked at some of the nudes in the photography, paintings and sculpture. JC loved the show, and wished that he would be good enough to someday get something shown in this fashion.

He looked at Gabrielle, perfect and beautiful in her ice-grey dress, long blond hair piled into a sleek bun. People told him that she reminded him of John Kennedy, Jr.'s wife, Carolyn, and he could see why. She was perfect. Perfect like the icy stone sculpture in front of him.

“Joshua…isn't this that song you made me listen to the other day?” Gabrielle asked, walking over. She motioned to a small jazz quartet that was playing in the corner.

“No…Gabby…we were listening to something else. But you're right, it's the same TYPE of music,” JC said politely. He sighed and tried to smile as a flashbulb popped. She grabbed his arm and pasted on a grin as the photographer took a second shot. 

“No…JC…you're an idiot.” Justin struggled to sit up from his seat on JC's lap. “Listen to that break…Miles Davis is the BOMB.”

“You're full of shit,” JC said fondly, kissing behind Justin's ear. “Coltraine. He's where it's at.”

“Only because you're sexy as hell in my boxer shorts will I let that pass,” Justin said, pressing his body against JC. All arguments of Davis vs. Coltraine were quickly forgotten in the passionate lovemaking. 

“JC, I'm tired,” Gabrielle whined. JC snapped out of his reverie.

“What? Oh, yes. We can go now.”

“Thank GOD,” she snapped quietly, then pasted on yet another smile as a camera was whipped out in their direction. 

 

She thinks I can't see the smile that she's faking/And poses for pictures that aren't being taken/I loved you…grey sweatpants…no makeup…so perfect… 

 

“So, um, how's Justin?” JC asked lightly as Chris handed him a bottle of beer.

“Miserable as all fuck, JC. He loved you.” Chris' dark eyes were unforgiving. “How could you say the things you said? How could you treat him like that? You know his worst fear is becoming some sort of unreachable superstar…and you called him a diva?”

“I was angry. He called me a few things, too,” JC said, embarrassed that Justin had discussed the fight with Chris. “I loved…love him, too.”

“You deserved it, JC. You're NOT into women. Not Gabrielle, not anyone. I know she's nice and all, and probably great in bed, but she's not for you. Justin is for you.”

“I…I know.” JC stared down at the bottle in his hand. 

“JC, are we going out at ALL this week?” Gabrielle asked, pulling her lovely body out of bed and putting on a robe. “It's time to go out and be seen.”

“I'm seen all the time, Gabby, and I'm sick of it,” JC snapped. The sex had been robotic and boring at best, and he was tired and crabby.

“But, Joshua…”

“Look, Gabrielle…” JC took a deep breath and tried to control his emotions. “You're beautiful. You're sweet and honest and kind. But this isn't going to work.”

“All because you don't want to go out?”

“No. Because you read the Bible, and I like to read Maxim. Because the sex really isn't that good, which, actually, we shouldn't even be having sex at all because of your so-called strong beliefs. Because you go to church and I sleep in on Sundays. Because you're straight and I'm not.”

“What?” Gabrielle's face was white as she sat down on the bed.

“I'm bisexual, Gabrielle. I was involved with an incredible man for over eight months, then it fell apart. But it needs to be put back together.” JC quickly dressed. “I'm sorry if this is hurting you, but playing around with this fake relationship is hurting us both more.” JC leaned down to kiss her cheek and she slapped him across the face. “Okay, I deserved that. If you need anything, call me.” JC left the house before she could hit him again.

JC got in the car and dialed his cellphone as he drove out of her development. “Hello?”

“Chris, JC. I broke up with her.” JC hung up.

Our love was comfortable and so broken in…she's perfect, so flawless…I'm not impressed…I want you back… 

 

“I wanna be where the people are…wanna see…wanna see them dancing…walking around on those…what do you call them again? Feet…” JC sang quietly as he opened the door of his house. “Flipping your fins you don't get too far…” JC tried to remember the lyrics to his favorite Little Mermaid song as he struggled with the groceries. The door swung open and he gratefully let the bags slide to the floor.

He stared at the shoes on the floor under the hall table. He followed a trail of socks, sweatshirt and another shirt before he reached the living room. A bowl of popcorn was on the table, and the TV was on. “Hello?” JC said cautiously.

“Hi.” Justin sat up and JC almost fell over. “I let myself in.”

JC looked at the mess that was his living room and slowly grinned. “I see.”

“This place was way too neat,” Justin observed. “I think it looks much more comfy and relaxed now, don't you?”

“Yes,” JC said, diving over the back of the couch.

The End

“Comfortable” by John Mayer

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