Eight 

 

Justin was toweling his hair dry when someone knocked on the door to his suite. He had jumped in the shower as soon as he had gotten back. Something had made him feel the need to cleanse himself. He pulled on a robe and padded to the door on bare feet. “Oh, hello,” he said, as if he had forgotten altogether about JC coming up to talk to him. In actuality, it had been on his mind since he had stepped into the shower.

“Hello. Thanks for seeing me again,” JC said, coming inside. He looked at Justin, trying to hide his amusement. Justin wore flannel pajama bottoms and a worn flannel robe. He looked nothing like the little seducer he had attempted to be when he thought JC was Lance Bass. “Did you have a nice dinner?”

“Wonderful,” Justin said with a sigh. He pulled a hairbrush through his curls. “Lance knows so much. The food was excellent, the wine was sweet…”

“Yes, he's quite a man.” JC sat down uninvited on a small chair near the balcony. “I've read about him.”

“I only know a few things,” Justin said. “I don't have a TV or anything, and Joseph is selective about what I get to read. I like to read, though.”

“What's your favorite book?” JC asked, and Justin looked surprised.

“Um, actually, I like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Shakespeare?”

Justin nodded. “It took me a while to get through it, but I learned if you read it out loud, it's easy to understand. There's such a flow to the words, and it's so romantic. So sad.”

“You'd be a good Romeo,” JC said. “Or a Tony.”

“Tony?”

“You know, West Side Story.”

“I've heard of it,” Justin said wistfully. “I've listened to the soundtrack. I…don't get out much,” Justin said.

“Joseph sounds like a tyrant,” JC said.

“Oh, no!” Justin said, shaking his head. “Joseph's been wonderful to me.” The night was chilly, but Justin opened the doors to the balcony and went out to lean against the railing. “When I was eleven, my parents died, and I was wandering around the neighborhood trying to find a way to stay alive. Joseph was only fifteen, but he took me under his wing. All of his family members were performers, but he really wasn't interested in the performing. He was interested in the business side. His father left him the theater. Joseph raised me and taught me everything I know.”

“Did you ever sleep with Joseph?”

“No,” Justin said almost angrily. “He's straight, first of all, and secondly, he's family.”

“How about you?” JC asked gently. “Are you straight?”

“Obviously not!” Justin snapped. “How about you?”

“Obviously not,” JC repeated. “I let you sit in my lap, and I kissed you.”

“Lots of men do that and don't think they're straight,” Justin said with a shrug.

JC walked out to stand next to Justin on the balcony. “Why do you do this? Why do you let men use you?”

“They don't use me. I use them,” Justin said, looking at JC. “I get what I want with a minimal amount of effort.”

“I guess it doesn't take much to spread your legs,” JC agreed. “What do you want?”

Justin ignored the first sentence. “The money. The money helps the theater.”

“What about you?” JC looked him in the eye. “You get nothing. You get locked up here, with nothing from the outside world except an occasional magazine or newspaper. You are this gorgeous person, with amazing talent. You could be in movies, on the radio.”

“I'm happy here,” Justin said. “One day we'll earn enough that I can be a real performer in a legitimate theater. That's why I do it.”

“You deserve more,” JC said gently. “What about love? What about a life of your own?”

“Love is too expensive, as I mentioned to you before,” Justin said. “Now, didn't you come up here to discuss Christopher's new work of art?”

“No,” JC said. He put a hand on Justin's shoulder. “I came up here because I had to see you again.”

Justin actually didn't know what to say. “You…I…”

“Justin…I saw the look in your eyes before when I sang to you. You let the guard down for just a minute. Can't you imagine what a life of that would be like?”

“I…I didn't…”

“Someone's out there that would live their life to do nothing but make you happy,” JC continued. “It's the most amazing feeling in the world. Better than all the money you can get, better then the loudest, longest standing ovation.”

“I…I can't…please don't…” Justin stammered. JC's hand rested at Justin's neck.

“Men fall in love with you at the drop of a hat. I know myself how easy it would be…I'm already infatuated with you against my better judgment. But what about you?”

“It's impossible.” Justin pulled away and turned around. “I can't do that. I don't know how, and it's not worth it. One day you'd leave me and I'd be alone. No you, no Joseph, no theater.”

“I wouldn't leave you.” JC came up behind Justin. “Give me a chance.”

“You'd hit me. Men have, you know. I don't promise them forever and they hit me.”

JC turned Justin around and cradled his face in his hands. “I would never EVER hit you. And I am NOT asking you for forever. Just as long…as long as Christopher's show takes to put on stage. I'll be around as lyricist and co-producer…we'd have all kinds of time to spend together. Joseph would never know, and you'd see what it's like…having someone love you.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Justin said. Then he closed his eyes. “But I can't.” Justin's lips trembled. “Lance Bass…we promised him…he'll give money to put on any show we like…”

“Can't you just…lead him along without actually…um…sleeping with him?”

“No.” Justin looked down. “It's what I do. I lay flat on my back and let it happen.”

“But things look so much better from the top,” JC teased gently. “Justin, please. It can only be wonderful.”

Justin looked into JC's eyes and for the first time allowed himself to hope. “I'll try…but I can't promise anything.”

JC finally allowed his arms to wrap around Justin, something he had wanted to do all night. “That's all I can ask for.”

Nine