Sonnet Cycle: II. Too Much Profane: A Poetic Bass Reply

The brunet collapsed wearily in his chair. It had been a grueling – an intolerable – day at the studio. Doing what he loved, yes, but with all the joy sucked out of it. Bleary though his eyes were, bone-weary though he was, he forced himself to fire up his home PC and check his email.

It was the shortest of notes: 'Open the attachment. Please.'

He did. It was an audio file ... a recording of the voice he loved most in the world, the bass voice, dripping Southern sorghum, that made his heart do flip-flops. He turned the volume on the speakers up, leaned back, and closed his eyes, squeezing them tight against the tears that threatened.


Joshy ... hi, hon.

I know t'other day, it took so much out of you make me that audio tape and make me listen at it. And we talked long and hard afterward – oh. My goodness. I did not just say that. You know what I meant ... oh Lordy.


His beautiful blond lover's rich laughter filled the empty room, filled the emptiness of Josh's heart, and Josh had to smile along with it, even as the tears escaped him.


Anysomehow, darlin'. We had us a talk about how we should always, always have these sort of things thrashed out face to face.

And now I'm the one not doin' it. I'm sorry.

You know I want to be there with you. You know I do. And you know why I cain't right now. Well, 't ain't no big thang – happens to us all, time to time, happens to ever' couple on God's green earth. But ... I feel so guilty ... I ought to be able to wait and do like we promised and us to talk it through once I get back, but I cain't, I just, I'm just not strong enough. Okay? I am not strong enough to wait. I need to say this now.

I love you. I trust you. I believe in you. I believe in us, I really do.

Because I love you and believe in you, because I want the best for you, for us, I – damn, this is rough as a cob, sayin' this. I.... This dance we do, with the fans and the public, this peekaboo we play swinging on the closet door.... I think we've maybe gone a patch too far here. If – if – we're gonna keep the dance going, if we're not comin' on out, both of us, together, then I think we've gone a little past our boundaries just lately. An' I think we need to decide what-all we are going to do before the next big appearance.

Josh, my love, my life, I would never disvalue your love or doubt you. Not ever. Never in a million years, do you understand?

And I know – here, in my heart – you feel the same.

I also know you are nowhere near ready to come out yet. Lordy, sugarpie, I have qualms my own self, and I'm a lot farther down the road than you are, because ... because of who we are. You have had so much to work through. So damn much and it is so unfair that any of it should have happened to someone as precious as you. You are in the middle of your journeys, like you said t'other day. And I am going to be beside you ever' damn step. And I have thought and thought and thought about it, puzzled it to hell and gone, and damn if I ain't concluded you're not yet at the point in your journey where you are ready for all this.

If you disagree, that's one thing. Everwhen you have reasons you can tell me, reasons as make some sense, for disagreeing, why then, that might mean you're right close to being ready after all. But don't just shove this aside, thinkin' you're doing it for my sake, for our sake, if you don't really have reasons to tell me I'm readin' it wrong.

And we are not doing this until you are ready, mentally and all. Until you've cleared the decks on all your journey, family issues, adoption issues, and all, to where you are comfortable with this, to where you wake up one morning and without having to argue yourself one way t'other you just say, as it pops into your haid, 'I'm ready today.'

It's like to be the roughest, tetchiest thang I have had ever to do, my love. But until you are ready, I am bound and determined to back it down a step. For both of us – because what is for you is always for me, for I am yours, utterly, whether we shout it from the rooftree or hide it in the dark of night. Until then, sweetheart, I will do what your own Shakespeare described:

Thou canst not, Love, disgrace me half so ill

To set a form upon desirèd change,

As I'll myself disgrace: knowing thy will,

I will acquaintance strangle and look strange,

Be absent from thy walks, and in my tongue

Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell,

Lest I, too much profane, should do it wrong

And haply of our old acquaintance tell.

I love you more than I can ever show you anyway, 'in or out.' Just know that.


Half-blinded by the tears that would not stop, Joshua Scott Chasez fumbled for the phone and managed to hit the speed-dial button he needed.

A sleepy, rumbly bass voice answered. 'Joshy?'

'James Lance Bass, you get your ass home to me right now, just the minute you can – oh God, James, James ... I can't do this, I can't deny you again, it hurts me too much –'

'Josh, darling, please –'

'It hurts, James –'

'Aw, damn it, sugar, I am so sorry, I've done fucked up again, I never wanted to hurt you, I cain't bear you cryin' –'

'No, it's not you, it's me ... James, just – hurry home. I need you. And we have to talk things out because I can't go on like this, denying you. I feel like Saint Peter, waiting for the rooster to crow....'

'Joshy, sweetness, I ain't hardly Our Lord –'

'No but you're almost as important to me, and I can't take this anymore. Please. Please. Come home.'

There was a pause, and Josh could hear James tapping keys on his laptop.

'It'll be awfully dark there at 4:17 in the AM,' he warned.

'I'll be there. You're the light in my darkness.'

'I'm packing now....'

'God, James ... I'm so sorry – sorry I can't take it, that I'm so needy, such a useless –'

'Don't you dare say that! You are my rock, don't you know that? You're what I draw my strength from, Joshua Scott Chasez, and don't you never underrate your good self no more, you hear me? If you are in need it's a-cause you pour yourself out for me, it's on account I've drawn on your strength so much.... Now. Shush now, heart. Shush now. I'll see you at the airport. And Joshy – don't you ever forget I love you.'

'Thank you,' Josh whispered. 'Thank you. Thank you....' He was still whispering thanks as he hung up, set his alarm, and fell into bed.


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