| Dear Lance, I came out to the four of you today. God, I've never been so scared in my whole life. I know I shouldn't have been. I mean, you came out to us almost a year ago and everyone took it so well that I feel stupid for being scared. But...that was you and this is me and I was scared anyway. But it all turned out really well. Big surprise. I think you were a little less surprised than Joey and Chris and Justin. It made me want to ask you if I'd ever pinged on your gaydar, but I was too twitchy to be as flippant as I'd need to be to actually ask you something like that. JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, Everything is the same as it was before, and for some perverse reason I feel oddly disappointed. I shouldn't want things to change, right? I should be relieved that now my secret is out and things are the same between us as they always have been. Well, maybe not exactly the same. Joey points out guys for me now instead of girls (he still has no understanding of my type) and Justin keeps asking if I ever crushed on him (I did, but it was just a crush and there's no way I'm inflating his ego some more) and you...you're still my best friend. I think that's why I'm disappointed. JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I don't understand why everyone says you're the weakest dancer. You've got rhythm, man. And I've seen you work those hips in the clubs. You have the grind down. JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, You're so intense. You concentrate on everything completely. I was watching you work on some things for FreeLance today. You stared intently at the screen of your lap top and bit your lip a little. It made me smile. I've always wondered what it would be like to have that concentration focused on me. JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I started writing these letters to say the things I always wanted to tell you and never had the guts to. I guess that's why I started writing them the day I came out. Because I thought when I told you guys that I'm gay, I thought that our eyes would connect and there'd be this sudden understanding. I thought that you'd kiss me, then or later, and that that night we'd make love and lie curled around each other and whisper to each other all the secret thoughts we never thought we'd be able to share with anyone. I'm a hopeless, hopeless romantic. There was no connection, there was no understanding, and I freaked out and couldn't even whisper the first of many, many secrets. I love you. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, It's been awhile since I wrote. I've been moping, and the guys can't figure out why. All that chemistry between us made me sure that something would happen once we knew about each other. I keep waiting for it. But nothing keeps on happening. I guess I'm not your type. I can't help liking being with you. Whether we're out clubbing or working quietly together or rehearsing or recording or being silly and stupid or sleeping (just sleeping) or talking or just being. I like that you're there. I like the little touches. The brush of arms, the hand in the small of my back, the playful bump of your hip against mine. I love those touches. I can't help wanting more. I want to know that we'll always be together, even when we aren't in the same room. I want to touch you all over. I want you to touch me all over. I know you better than I know my own family, and I want to know you better. And I want you to know me. But I've figured out why nothing has changed between us. You don't want that. I can live with that. I can. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, Move over and move on. Good advice. Wish I could remember who said it. I'm going out tonight. And I'm going to pick up a guy and I'm going to bring him back to the hotel. Maybe just for the night, but it's a start right? Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I had sex with him, and it was fucking terrible. I want to make love. I'll try again. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I picked up a guy tonight. Discreetly, of course. He had short blond hair and green eyes and he smiled a lot. When we got up to my room we talked for an hour, and when we started kissing I asked him if I could call him Lance. He looked really hurt, and didn't answer, and left, and I broke down crying because that's the shittiest thing I've ever done to someone. I'm sorry. JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I don't think I'm built for one night stands. Joey told me to cut it out before it destroyed me. I think I'll take his advice. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, You went on a date with a guy named Brian today. A real date. At least, as real as you and I can have, as high profile as we are. You looked all bright eyed and glowy when you got back to our room, and you talked for hours about how sweet he was and what he does for a living and how you're going to see him again. I smiled and listened and teased you like a friend should, because you didn't know my heart was breaking and I couldn't bear to ruin your night. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I feel like an idiot. I've never cried over anyone before. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, You've been seeing Brian for a month. Justin finally stopping asking me why my eyes are red in the mornings. I can't decide if he's figured me out or if he's just got tired of my endless noncommittal replies. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I had a dream last night. A beautiful dream. I dreamt I was asleep. And then, in my dream, I woke up, and you were in bed with me. We were curled together, and sunlight was pouring in the window, and you were still sleeping. Your hair was tousled and you had wrinkles on your face from the pillowcase. You were beautiful. I kissed you until you woke up, and you opened your eyes and smiled at me and told me you loved me. I dreamed that an entire day happened, and it was just like that. In my dream we were recording the new album. You and I showered together in the morning and ate breakfast together. We did stupid couple things like let the toast burn because we were kissing. We drove to the studio and walked in holding hands. The guys all knew about us, and they teased us good naturedly, calling us "the happy couple" and rolling their eyes whenever we grinned at each other or kissed or draped over each other. And we did that a lot. At the end of the day in my dream, we came home together and had dinner together. We didn't make love because we were both tired, but we didn't miss it because we enjoyed just being together, and besides, there'd be time for that later. In my dream we fell asleep in each other's arms. When I woke up, for real, the dream was so vivid and clear that for a few moments I was convinced I had actually lived it. When I realized it was just a dream I was so depressed all four of you asked what was wrong, and I had nothing to tell you. It was the best day of my entire life. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I surprised myself tonight. You broke up with Brian a few hours ago. Rather, he broke up with you. The predictable reasons - he never sees you, he doesn't understand your relationship with the four of us, he doesn't like being so deep in the closet, on and on. But you really liked him. I didn't, but that's kind of obvious. You came to me tonight and cried on my shoulder and cursed fame and asked me how I handle it. I held you close because I could and cursed fame with you and told you I didn't handle it very well at all, because I haven't dated at all in two months. Not even one night stands. And I surprised myself, because when you told me Brian left you, I waited for that little surge of relief. That selfish gladness that you weren't entirely out of my reach. But it never came. Instead I felt a little stab of pain superimposed on the pain I've carried for months now. It hurts to not be with you the way I want to be. It hurts more to see you unhappy. I guess I'm a good friend. Love always, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I wish I could tell you how deeply you are loved. I want so badly for you to know, but I know that it would be weird if I told you. At worst, you'd be uncomfortable and stop hanging out and confiding in me like you do, and I love that. I'm not sure I could survive without it. At best, you'd feel very guilty and very upset that you can't return my feelings. I can't do that to you. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, You've been trying to do it my way, and it just isn't working. I finally had to take you aside and say, "Lance, face it, you're meant to be half of a couple. You don't like it when you're not. So stop trying to find happiness through celibacy and get back out there." "What about you?" you asked. "Don't you want to be half of a couple?" Of course I do. I want to be half of you and me. But that's the only couple I want to be half of, so I shrugged and smiled and said, "I'm married to my music." Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, You've started seeing a guy named Scott. We haven't met him yet, but you talk about him a lot and he makes you smile, so he's a couple points up in my book already. It hurts to see you happy with someone else. It hurts so much that I know I'll cry myself to sleep tonight. But I also know it'll hurt more to see you unhappy. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I love you. I love you so much that I wake up in the morning and smile because I'll know that I'll be seeing you that day. You're beautiful, you know that? You have the most beautiful skin, and your eyes are this incredible shade of green. I know some people find them unnerving, but your eyes make me think of grass on spring days and laughter and warmth. You're built solidly, and maybe you hate that adjective but it makes me think of your weight pressing down on me and the way your hips would feel between my thighs and the warmth you'd radiate as we curled together. I love the richness of your voice. Sometimes I think I sound thin and reedy next to your rolling syllables. I'm glad that our voices fit so well together. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, We met Scott today. Part of me didn't want to like him. I didn't expect to. But I do. He's cute, in a tall dark and handsome sort of way, and he's funny and because he's "a writer (not a journalist) and therefore has no ties to any one spot" he can follow us around like the nomads we are. He doesn't just make you laugh, he makes all of us laugh. And he understands my passion for music, which surprises me. I thought no one would ever take me seriously about that. But he does. I like him. I hope he sticks with you. I hope I survive it if he does. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, Since Scott started eating breakfast with the five of us, I've had to get used to the sight of the two of you coming into the room together, smiling sheepishly and tucking stray bits of clothing into the appropriate places. This is a new pain, one I didn't expect. I had to make an excuse to leave the first morning. You almost came after me, but Scott stopped you, thank goodness. I think I've done pretty well since then. Covering it up, that is. Besides, you look so cute, flushed and not quite embarrassed and happy. It's worth it. What's one more little ache? Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, You and Scott have been together two months now. I'm absurdly proud of him. He's stood up to the media circus and the hiding and the constant contact of your four closest friends. He's good to you, and if you've had a couple of fights, they were never serious enough that the four of us felt we needed to get involved. Not to kick him out on his ear, and not to comfort you. Scott took care of that. I should stop counting the little pains. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, Scott is starting to give me an odd look. Wary, almost. I think I'm going to have to speak with him. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I spoke with Scott. It was hard. I think I'll just transcribe the whole thing here... I tapped him on the arm just as he finished breakfast. I'd been waiting. "Scott, can I talk to you?" "Sure," he said, and waited. "Alone," I clarified. A lot of emotions flashed by on his face. Confused. Nervous. Aggressive. He'd fight for you. I led him to my room and shut the door behind him. "Listen," I said before he could say anything, "I can tell by the way you've been looking at me lately that you've figured out how I feel about Lance." He nodded, warily. I sat down on the bed. "You don't have to worry about me," I said, trying to sound confident instead of bleak. "I'm no threat to your relationship with Lance." He pulled over a chair and sat down in front of me. "I've seen how you look at him," he said, as if I hadn't already admitted to my feelings. "I love Lance. I know that love when I see it, and I see it every time you look at him. Don't tell me you're not a threat." I shook my head. "I do love Lance. I love him completely. I love him desperately, but you don't understand one thing," I said quietly. I paused, struggling with tears, and forced the next phrase past the lump in my throat. "Lance doesn't love me. Not like that." It was the first time I'd said it aloud, and the tears won. They poured down my cheeks, but I held Scott's eyes and kept talking. "He loves me like a friend, like a brother, nothing more. Believe me when I say I'm grateful every day to have what small part of him I do. I've learned not to expect more." "But you want it," he whispered. "Of course I want it!" I snapped. "Who doesn't want the person they love more than life itself to love them back? But he doesn't. I know he doesn't. I don't even wonder anymore. I don't hope. It's pointless. I've learned something else, you know." I paused. "What?" Scott prompted me. "I've learned that, as much as it hurts to love Lance, it hurts just a little bit less to know he's happy." I looked at Scott long and hard then. "Do you understand now? I'm no threat to you, because you make him happy. I'm probably your best friend, your closest ally, because I'll do anything to make it possible for you to make him happy. So don't worry about him." Scott was quiet for a long time. Then he stood, so I stood too. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and hugged me. "Don't be," I hugged him back, "you've got the best person in the world to go home to. Don't be sorry." Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I love you. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, That last letter would have been a suicide note if Chris hadn't come over. He dropped by unexpectedly with Chinese take out and insisted we watch a movie. It was "The Dead Poets Society". At the end of it, Chris just watched the credits and said "What a fucking selfish thing to do. Didn't he think of how much he'd hurt his friends?" I think Chris must be psychic. I promise I'll never kill myself. I promise you. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I've been writing love songs lately. They all start out about you, but after I finish them I go back and very carefully change all the references so that you can't tell. Justin says it's my best stuff. I think he's right. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I think Scott has stopped pitying me and started respecting me. I think we're getting to be friends. I'm glad. He loves you and you like him. Maybe you love him. Tear smudges are so eloquent. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, I'm not feeling very well. It took me a while to sort out the physical pain from the emotional. I've been carrying the latter around so long that I can feel it, so I didn't realize that the chest pains recently were something different. I'm sorry. I know you hurt for your friends. If it's not better tomorrow, I'll check into the hospital. Love, JC ********************************************* Dear Lance, If you're reading this, then I must be gone. By now you know that the chest pains I'd been ignoring turned out to be the major symptom of a pretty nasty virus. The damn thing got a pretty strong foothold by the time I went to a doctor. Now...I suppose it's won the war I've been fighting with it. It's hard to imagine not being alive as I write this. As much pain as I'm in and despite knowing my whole life that eventually I'm going to die, I can't seem to wrap my mind around the thought of not being with you anymore. I hope I go to heaven. You'll be there if I do. Even if you live a hundred more years, you'll be there, because it wouldn't be heaven without you. I wonder if they'll just keep me in limbo while I wait? I'm sorry if I'm being insensitive. I suppose I'm putting off my goodbye. So it turns out that when it got right down to it, I'm not as selfless as I thought I was. All this time I've been hiding my feelings from you because I knew that you'd feel guilty and hurt that you couldn't love me back. And yet, in the end, I can't stand to die without ever telling you, and I can't stand to live knowing you're hurting because of me, so I took the coward's way out and wrote a last letter. The doctor told me this morning that I most likely won't make it through the night. After I finish writing this letter, I will lock it in the box under my hospital bed with the others. The hospital staff don't want you guys hanging out all night - you're not technically family, so you can't insist - so I'll give you the key and the box when you visit. I have a few last wishes. Don't mourn me. I achieved all my dreams. Don't let NSYNC die on my account. Don't let my love hurt you. I never wanted that, never. Remember, always, that you were and are loved completely and totally, and that you are more than worthy of that love. Someday, when you have everything you ever wanted (and you will), think of me and smile. I love you, always. Love, JC ********************************************* Lance finished reading aloud and folded the letter closed tenderly, mindless of the tears that ran down his cheeks. Around him sat Chris, Justin, Joey and Scott. Cheeks still wet, Lance looked up his boyfriend with agony in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly. "Scott, you knew how JC felt - he told you! - and you didn't tell me..." Scott shifted uncomfortable and looked down at his hands as he answered. "I love you, too, Lance. I...I wanted to have a chance with you." Lance fingered the rectangle of paper. "For years JC was killing himself with his selflessness," he murmured, "and you couldn't do the same for one moment. Not for him. Not for me." Chris, Justin and Joey glanced at Scott, confused, then back at Lance. "Please leave, Scott. I don't want you. I don't need you." "I'm sorry," Scott whispered, and left. Lance just shook his head and stared at the letter. "Lance?" Justin prompted gently, still confused. Lance smiled, and they'd never seen a more pure expression of pain. "I loved him, too. I always loved him." A tear slid off his cheek and hit the letter, soaking slowly into the paper. "And now he's gone, and he'll never know." |