Four

“How do I look?” JC paraded in front of Chris. Chris didn't look up from the television.

“Fantastic.”

“Dammit…” JC leaned over and turned off the TV, then swiped the remote from the coffee table. “LOOK at me.”

Chris put down his spoon and licked the ice cream from his lips. “You look fine. What's the occasion?”

“No occasion…why? Is it too dressy?” JC looked down at his black jeans and white shirt. The thin material hung loosely on JC's frame, and the shirttail danced right at his backside.

“No…I just wondered what was up. You only ask me for my opinion when it's a big deal.” Chris looked around JC at the blank television screen. “Can we turn Millionaire back on now?”

“I don't see what's so great about that show. Only losers go on it, anyway,” JC said, picking up the remote. “I'm meeting someone for drinks.”

“Wear your sandals,” Chris said, swiping at the remote. “They'll look good.”

“Chris, it's January,” JC reminded him. “It's freezing out.”

“Oh. Wear socks with them, then,” Chris replied, successfully grabbing the remote. JC sighed and went to find his loafers. 

“Hi.” Lance greeted him with a dazzling smile. He wore a grey dress shirt and black pants. “I'm glad you could make it. Did you have trouble getting to the elevator?”

“No…your card worked wonders,” JC said absently, looking around the giant penthouse. “I've lived my whole life in this town and I've never been in this hotel.”

“It's just another hotel,” Lance said modestly.

“To you, maybe,” JC whispered as Lance headed for the bar.

“The balcony's enclosed and heated,” Lance said over his shoulder. “I thought we could sit out there.”

“Great,” JC said, studying the art on the wall. His experienced eye realized that they weren't copies. They were the real thing.

“I hate abstract art, don't you?” Lance asked, coming up to him. He nodded towards a particularly busy painting above the entertainment center. “Crazy.”

“Yeah,” JC said. He had been thinking the exact same thing.

“I took the liberty of ordering wine,” Lance said, handing JC a glass. “If it's not good enough, I can get something else.”

“No. I love wine,” JC said.

“I have cheese and crackers on the balcony,” Lance said, sweeping out his hand to indicate that JC should lead the way. JC walked to the balcony, which was actually more like a sunroom. He curled up on a comfy-looking sofa, letting his shoes on the floor. When he realized what he had done, he blushed and sat up. “Don't,” Lance said. “I'm glad you feel comfortable.” He sat on another chair and pulled one foot up under his body. “Most people don't around me.”

“To be honest, I had almost forgotten all that,” JC said truthfully.

“Really?” Lance asked, and JC nodded. Lance smiled. “Good. I like it when I can unwind with people.” He stood up. “Speaking of unwinding…I'm still in my work clothes. Can I go change quick?”

“Sure,” JC said.

“There's a stereo there…put something in if you want,” Lance said, heading for the bedroom.

JC stood and went to the stereo. A leather cd case sat on the floor. He began to flip through it and grinned. Most of this he had in his own cd rack at home. He finally decided on some instrumental jazz. He loaded the cd and went back to his seat. Lance soon returned in a pair of blue jeans and a plain black tshirt. “This okay?” JC asked.

“Dave Koz. Excellent,” Lance said. “This is what I listen to when I need to just relax and take a step back.”

“Is it hard? Being shuffled around to boring places like this, I mean.”

“This isn't that boring, Josh. Really. It's all new to me, and when I have time, I like to explore new places. But most of the time I'm too busy…or I just can't.”

“You can't?” JC asked. Lance picked up the wine bottle and refilled JC's glass.

“It's hard for me sometimes, just going somewhere and hanging out. Most places are too public.”

“Right,” JC said, feeling like an idiot for even asking.

“So…do you sell your own work?” Lance asked, smiling.

“No. How did you know I paint?” JC asked, surprised.

“You have paint on your socks,” Lance said. JC looked down and saw blue splatters on the toes of his white socks.

“Oh, my God,” JC whispered, mortified. Lance laughed.

“Don't be embarrassed. That's one great thing about acting. There are no tell-tale signs. Of course, being up on a big screen and having your face on posters kinda gives it away.”

“I like to paint in stocking feet. I guess I accidentally got my painting socks mixed in with my other socks,” JC explained. “Or else my roommate decided to play tricks on me.”

“You have a roommate?”

“Chris,” JC said. “He's five years older than I am, but acts like he's twelve. He just got his hair done in these dreadlock braids…and half are pure white. He looks like an idiot, but I really think that is when he's happiest. He acts like he's perpetually on crack or something, but he's a good guy.”

“Is that his job…acting like a clown?” Lance asked, smiling.

“Nah. He manages a record store. And I mean a record store. Nothing newer than cassette tapes. He sells records, eight-tracks, and tapes.”

“That sounds like a GREAT job,” Lance said.

“He loves it. His store is about four blocks west of mine if you want to check it out. It's called Retro-Note.”

“I'll remember that,” Lance said. “My assistant, Kevin, is into vinyl. He's probably the same age as Chris. However, he has an amazing stick up his ass, as you probably noticed.”

JC choked on his wine. “I wasn't going to mention it, but now that you have…”

Lance laughed. “So…will I ever see your work hanging above a television set in a hotel?”

“I doubt it. No one sees my work,” JC said softly. “It's not good enough.”

“I bet it is,” Lance said. “Someday you can show it to me.”

JC paused, still not believing he was drinking wine with Lance Bass. “So…how long will you be in town?”

“I don't know,” Lance said. “I seem to find out last minute whenever I'm coming or going somewhere. It's crazy.”

“I bet,” JC said.

“We're shooting early tomorrow,” Lance said suddenly. “Did you want to have dinner?”

“I can't,” JC said, his stomach falling. “I'm sorry.”

“Oh, uh, that's fine,” Lance said, looking out the large windows.

“No! It's not that! I'm really truly busy,” JC said earnestly. “I have to go to a birthday party.”

“A birthday party? Do you…um…have kids?” Lance asked almost nervously. JC had to laugh out loud.

“Oh, God, no! I'm…well…I'm gay,” JC said, and Lance visibly relaxed. “My friends Joey and Nick, their birthdays are both on Wednesday, and Joey's boyfriend Justin's birthday is on Saturday, so Joey and Justin are having a birthday dinner tomorrow. Just the four of us and my roommate. I…uh…don't expect you'd want to come.”

“To a birthday dinner?” Lance asked.

“Yes. Joey's splurging and ordering in dinner from one of the nicest restaurants in town. I guess you think it's silly.”

“I think it sounds great,” Lance said. “Is it in town?”

“Actually it's near this hotel,” JC said.

“Could you come and meet me here? Around six?”

“Dinner's at six-thirty, so that's perfect,” JC said, amazed at what had just happened.

Five