Date: Tue, 16 Dec 2003 12:15:48 -0800 (PST)
From: Michael Bryan <mzbryan2003@yahoo.com>
Subject: JC and the Actor (Chapter 25)

JC and the Actor, Chapter 25, Copyright 2003

----------

The following story is entirely a work of fiction.  It is not meant to
imply anything about the sexuality or the personal lives of the members of
NSYNC, or any other celebrities mentioned.  If you are underage, or if it
is illegal to read sexually explicit gay material where you live, don't
read this.

Ok, so this chapter is a bit overdue.  Hopefully, it is worth the wait.
Thanks to everyone for your continued support.  Please continue to send
your thoughts, comments and criticisms to mzbryan2003@yahoo.com

----------

Chapter 25

	"How many closets?" I asked, slowly making my way through the empty
apartment.

	"Five," Sharon, my realtor and, as of late, constant companion
said.  "One in the entryway, one in the study, one in each bedroom, and one
in the hall."  We were in a penthouse apartment a few blocks away from the
area I was currently living in.  I had started out looking at duplexes and
brownstones, but as my face was becoming more and more recognizable, I
regretfully realized that I was doomed to a large doorman building that
could supply the security I knew to be necessary.

	It was hard to determine whether my dissatisfaction with the places
I had seen was because I actually didn't like them, or because I generally
as of late didn't like much of anything.  I knew that I needed a change,
but it was hard to be overly excited.  While examining the highly polished
wooden floors, I reminded myself that I had quickly become one of those
people who others would look upon with great disdain were they to hear me
say that I was unhappy.

	In the few weeks since JC had broken up with me, I had quickly
become an object of great interest to the media.  The press was very
interested in my recovery and I was becoming somewhat used to seeing my
picture pop up on entertainment news shows.  Everyone wanted to know more
about this gorgeous, serious actor, who nearly died while making his first
film.  Daily I was contacted about possible interviews and appearances,
some of which I did, most of which I turned down.  A publicist became the
first member of what I feared may soon become an entourage.

	It all began one morning, a few days after JC had stormed out of my
life.  I exited my apartment, determined to at least physically whip myself
back into shape.  Upon descending the outdoor steps, I was greeted by a
tiny little man who proceeded to start taking photographs of me, one after
the other.

	"I take it you must be my paparazzo?" I said, a little shocked, a
little amused.

	"You got it Nathan," the man said, smiling and continuing to take
pictures.

	"So you're basically going to just be following me around from time
to time?  Watching me go into coffee shops and pick up my dry cleaning?"
Then and there I knew I would be moving.

	"That's about it," he answered.  I laughed a little and walked up
to him, extending my hand.

	"Nathaniel Murray," I said, shaking his hand.

	"Paulie," the man said.  I had never understood celebrities who
spent their time yelling nasty things at the paparazzi and going to great
lengths to avoid them.  Despite my desire to have my privacy respected, I
knew that I was involved in a very public business.  Depending on how long
I remained in it, I would perhaps reconsider my approach.  At the moment, I
wanted to be friendly.  JC had always been pretty nice to the people who
followed him, and it greatly saddened me to think that normally I would be
asking for his advice on how to deal with all of this.

	"You're not going to find many places with this kind of light
exposure," Sharon said, taking me away from my thoughts.  It was true.
Light seemed to be pouring in all over the place.  Large bay windows
stretched across the corner apartment, providing a wonderful view of the
Empire State Building.

	In my mind, I had been trying to think of which place JC would like
best.  It was silly and irrelevant.  In the three weeks since I told JC
about my affair with Bobby, I had not heard one word from him.  In the
beginning I called and called.  I called his cell, his houses in Los
Angeles and Florida, all to no avail.  I couldn't really believe that he
wouldn't even speak to me.  After all we had been through, I really thought
he would want to talk it out a bit more before making any decisions.  I
decided to stop leaving embarrassing messages after the first week.  I
didn't have any idea where he was or what he was up to.  A few days ago
NSYNC had been on MTV as part of some holiday special, but JC could now be
in any part of the world for all I knew.

	"Wait until you see the master bedroom," Sharon said, leading me
down the long hall.  While it was a penthouse, it wasn't overly gigantic.
Still, I was pretty sure my apartment could fit into the space four or five
times over.  The bedroom had French doors, a large walk-in closet, it's own
master bathroom, and a fireplace.

	"Wow," I said, definitely impressed.  I was beginning to understand
why this place cost what it did.  "All this place needs is a terrace."

	"It has one," Sharon said, smiling.  "Come see the study."  Walking
back toward the living room, Sharon opened a door on the left and shuffled
me inside.  The room was large and completely paneled in oak.  I walked
over to the glass door at the other end of the room, opened it, and stepped
out onto a large brick terrace, with a completely unobstructed view of
downtown.  My heart started racing and I was happy to feel excited by
something for a change.

	"So what do you think?" Sharon asked, walking up behind me.

	"I think I'll take it," I said.  I felt good about the place and I
was tired of looking.  This was going to be my first step toward complete
stability.  This was something that I would own, something permanent.  The
last few months had taught me that nothing really was, but that wasn't
going to stop me from trying.

	Given the apartment's hefty seven-figure price tag, I told Sharon
to make an offer for $50,000 less than the asking price.  I was willing to
pay the full price, but there was no reason to let the current owners know
that.

	Back on the street, I walked to an office supply store and bought a
few boxes, confident that I would be moving shortly.  My apartment suddenly
felt small and cramped.  It was funny when I thought about what an
improvement it had been from the apartment I had before it.  It turned out
that I was only going to have lived here for just over a year.  JC hadn't
sent anyone for his things, and slowly his stuff started making its way
toward a corner of the living room.  I assumed that I would have to move
them with me when the time came.  I didn't think I would have the heart to
throw them out.

	With JC gone, my life seemed very much like before I had met him.
I felt more organized, less conflicted, and more confident with regard to
decisions about my life and career.  I signed on to do another film and was
looking into returning to the stage perhaps as early as next summer.  I
wondered if the whole relationship with JC had just been a question of bad
timing.  I was definitely more vulnerable in those days after Mark had left
me, and my sudden success was harder to deal with then I had expected.
Thrust into the middle of all that, came JC.  Josh.  The guy I didn't know
but couldn't resist.  The guy I was in love with when I no longer believed
in love.  The guy I ended up hurting even thought it was the last thing I
would ever have wanted to do.

	I couldn't imagine what he was doing, but I knew he couldn't be
very happy.  He wasn't the type to forget and move on.  He was far too
sensitive.  If anything I was worried that he was taking all of this to
mean something about himself and the way he was in relationships.  I wished
that I could at least assure him that my actions were in no way any fault
of his own.

	Watching NSYNC on the MTV Christmas special, he seemed cheery
enough, though of course he didn't say much, always being interrupted by
Justin or Chris.  In the past few weeks, only videos and compact discs were
my way of hearing or seeing JC.  In the beginning I sat in my apartment,
completely embarrassing myself playing one JC or NSYNC ballad after
another.  I studied the nuances in his voice, wondering if his expressions
of hurt and sorrow were for real people.  I wondered if that was the way I
was doomed to leave my impact on him.  Was I even around long enough to
inspire a song?

	I wanted to be mature about this.  I didn't want to cry and stalk
and demand his attention.  But I literally found myself aching at times to
be with him.  My heart would flip-flop in my chest at the thought of never
touching him again.  Never feeling his tight body pressed up against my
own.  I didn't know what I could do to get him back, and I wasn't sure that
I should be trying.  Not because I didn't want him, but because I thought
he may be correct in not wanting me.  Anyway, it didn't seem like I was
going to have any choice in the matter.  He wouldn't talk to me.

	I finished taping a box together, and started taking books off of
the bookshelf.  Something slipped out of one of the photo albums I was
holding and I bent down to pick it up.  It was a photo of Mark and I from
our trip to South Carolina around Valentine's Day of last year.  We both
looked so happy and yet I now realized that he had already started his
affair at that point.  The thought disgusted me, which only made me feel
disgust for myself.  Back then I never would have been capable of doing
what I had done to JC.  Back then I had sworn my fidelity to someone who
didn't even love me.  As I looked at the picture, I felt the anxiety start
to rise within me.  It felt as though my apartment was growing even
smaller, squeezing me between the walls.  Suddenly I had to get out.  It
was irrational, but I dropped the books, dropped the photo, grabbed my coat
and headed out the door.

----------

	It was just after 9 p.m.  A light snow had started to fall, and I
thought myself pretty tragic looking, walking down the city streets in my
black overcoat and scarf.  In my haste to get out of the apartment, I had
forgotten my gloves and hat, so I watched my hands become red with cold and
felt the snow landing in my hair.  I neared the hospital downtown, and
stood outside the entrance to the emergency room, not really sure what I
was doing.

	"Mark!" I called, seeing him hustle out of the hospital at the end
of his shift, bundled in his hat and coat.  He turned around in the wrong
direction first, then spun back to see me standing a few yards away.  He
looked a bit shocked to see me, but then started to smile as he slowly
walked toward me.

	"Nat," he said, extending his hand in a handshake.  It felt
incredibly awkward to be shaking hands with the man I had spent two years
of my life with, but it felt even stranger to hear him calling me 'Nat.'  I
wished I was hearing someone calling me 'Nate.'

	"What are you doing hear?" he asked.

	"It's been a long time," I said.

	"Yeah, I uh, I meant to call you.  I heard about your illness.  How
is your prognosis?"

	"They think I should be fine."

	"Good," he said.

	"Thank you," I said.  "But we can be honest, can't we?  You had no
intention of calling me."  When Mark left, he left.  He never looked back.

	"Nat, it's just that..."

	"Don't worry about it.  Really.  "How is, uh," I didn't even know
the name of the guy he left me for.

	"Oh," he said, offering an embarrassed smile.  "We kind of broke
up."  He thought for a moment.  "Actually, he left me for someone younger
and cuter."  He smiled and shook his head.  "Kind of ironic I suppose."  I
didn't know what to say.  I suppose I was supposed to be happy or feel like
gloating, but I didn't.  Honestly, I felt kind of bad for him.

	"Do you want to get some coffee?" I asked, looking over toward the
diner across the street.  We had spent a lot of time there when we were a
couple.  He said 'sure,' and we made our way across the street, settling
into a corner booth of the diner.

	"So," he began after a few moments.  "Mr. Celebrity!  I knew you
had it in you."

	"It's all so strange," I began.  "Photographers are starting to
follow me around, I'm giving interviews.  I have to move because people
know where I live.

	"You probably like the attention though, no?"

	I blushed and bit my lip.  "Kind of," I smiled.

	"What brings you here, Nat?" he said after a moment of awkward
silence.  "Something tells me you didn't just want to say 'hi'."

	"No, you're right." I said.  "Actually, I kind of have a question
for you."

	"What is it?"

	"I want to know why you cheated on me."  Mark looked at me,
uneasiness spreading across his face.

	"Nat I, uh"

	"I'm not mad." I added.  Absentmindedly I moved my hand toward his
before checking myself and pulling it away.  "I just want to know.  You
never gave me a reason."

	Mark was never a man of many words, and that didn't seem to have
changed.  "If we were right for each other it never would have happened,"
he said after a few moments.

	"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

	"Nat, what is this about?  Why do you care at this point?  I'm
pretty sure you aren't starved for company."

	"Mark, we were together for two years, you cheated on me for six of
them, and then you left and never looked back."  My voice got angrier as I
reminded myself of all he had put me through.  He looked as though he was
going to say something when I added.  "How am I supposed to move on to
someone else if it was me who drove you away?"  I was potentially really
embarrassing myself here.  I mean, I was someone with a certain degree of
importance now, and I was letting Mark think that his actions had some
profound effect on me.  What was strange was that I think they did.

	"It wasn't you," he said softly.  "It wasn't you at all.  I had my
own stuff to deal with, and I probably didn't handle it very well."

	"Are you saying you regret it?"

	"I regret hurting you.  It's not something I thought I could do.
But, I don't think we were meant to be together."

	"Why not?"

	"I think if I was really in love with you, I wouldn't have been
capable of having an affair."  That wasn't what I wanted to hear.  It was
like he was telling me that I must not love JC, but I so felt like I did.

	"You don't think people sometimes just make mistakes?" I asked.  He
looked a bit confused, as I seemed to be turning the tables on him.  He
could never imagine that I wanted him just to say that it wasn't that big
of a deal.

	"Nat, I don't know where you are trying to go with all of this, but
something is telling me you're getting something from all of this that I'm
not seeing."  I guess I couldn't really expect to hide my feelings from
someone I had spent so much time with.

	"I don't know," I said, honestly.  "I probably shouldn't have come.
I'm sorry.  I should go."

	"Nat, wait," he said, putting his hand on mine, preventing me from
getting up.  "I've been thinking all this time what a great life you must
be having, but you don't look happy."

	"I'm not," I said.

	"If there's anything I can do.  If you need someone to talk to."

	I looked at him, happy to see a glimpse of the man I thought I
knew.  "Thanks," I said.  "I think I was just hoping that there was a
certain universality of experiences.  Unfortunately, I think my problems
may just be my own.  And I have to fix them on my own."  Mark sipped his
coffee, content as usual to let me rant.

	"If everything was measured by the same barometer, you wouldn't
have any choices," Mark said.  "You can fix whatever you think needs
fixing."  I smiled at him and started getting out of the booth.

	"I have to get going," I said.  "Thanks for the talk, it was good
seeing you."  I went for my wallet but he waved the dollars I offered him
away.  He left a few singles on the table and stood up as well.

	"I should be going too," he said.  We walked outside to find the
snow falling harder and the temperature even colder.  "It's almost
Christmas," he said, pulling his coat tight around him.

	"I know," I said.  "'Tis the season to be jolly."  We both looked
at each other and offered short little laughs.  I guess neither one of us
was in the holiday spirit.

	"We actually have a lot to be thankful for," Mark said.  "It's just
hard to see it that way when anything is wrong."

	"You're right," I agreed.  "Well," I began, opening my arms.  "Have
a good holiday anyway."  I hugged him and patted my hand against his back.
Feeling my arms around him, I can't say that I didn't have any feelings for
him.

	"Nat," he said as I pulled away.  I raised my eyebrows to him.  "I
don't live far from here if you want to..."

	"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.  Mark was lonely.
Perhaps that was his punishment for cheating on me.  I was lonely too, but
not lonely for him.  Looking into his clear pale eyes, I realized that
there might be some fight left in me yet.

	"Yeah," he said reluctantly.  "Well, maybe I'll see you around
then."

	We parted and I headed back home.  I didn't know if I had come to
any decisions, but I felt like I was more in control of the things that
happened to me.  Hopefully, I would be more in control of the things that
were yet to happen.

----------

	After a few more days of negotiations, I owned the apartment I
wanted.  I arranged to be moved in just before New Year's Eve, in hopes of
being able to throw a fabulous party of sorts.  The plan was to get back
into doing things the way I used to do them.  While I found myself still
thinking about JC much more than I probably should, I had come to the
decision that if I was going to get him back, it was going to be as myself,
not any concoction of what he or I thought I should be.

	I had met Maggie in midtown to do some last minute Christmas
shopping.  The crowds were sizeable and if moving around midtown shoppers
wasn't difficult enough, now I was regularly being gawked at and talked to
by people I didn't know.  I hoped that one day soon, my acting ability
would take precedence over my on-location mishap.

	"Christ," Maggie laughed.  "Being famous sure is tough."  We were
waiting at a cosmetics counter where Maggie was trying to buy things for
her sister.  "I don't know why I bother," she said.  "Whenever she puts
this stuff on she just ends up looking like a clown."

	"Maybe makeup lessons would be better than buying makeup," I
offered.

	"Did you see 'Page Six' the other day?" she asked, changing the
subject.

	"Which one?"

	"The one where some reporter speculates about why you haven't been
spotted with your favorite boy band member lately."

	"No, I didn't see that," I said, feeling quite pissed.  "What did
he say?"

	"He always referred to you as 'really close' friends, but the
subtext clearly indicated that you sodomized each other."

	"Maggie!" I gasped, looking around the store.  "There are
grandmothers present."

	"Ugh, let's go," she said.  "I'll just give her a check.  Do you
want to get some lunch?"

	"Sure," I said.  My schedule was still quite free.  After waiting
on line for almost another hour, we sat down in a small café and ordered
sandwiches that we knew would be terrible.

	"Have you heard about 'Mist'?" Maggie asked.

	"The new club opening downtown tomorrow?  Yeah, I thought it was
kind of tacky to open a club only a couple of days before Christmas."

	"It's supposed to be amazing," Maggie said, her face beaming.

	"I know," I said.  "I've seen its layout in the Sunday Times
magazine.

	"Do you want to go?" she asked.

	"Maggie, how would we ever get into a place like that on opening
night?  It's going to be all celebrities and eurotrash."  Maggie cocked an
eyebrow at me and I shook my head.  "What?" I asked.  "You think I can get
into a place like that?"  She nodded.  "I don't think so, Maggie.  Not that
many people know who I am."

	"Obviously you don't read as many papers as I do," she said,
leaning over toward me.  "Don't you want to try?" she asked.  I shrugged my
shoulders.  "What's your publicist's name?" she asked, pulling out her cell
phone.

	"Karen Adams," I said.  Maggie called the operator and had them
connect her to 'Mist.'

	"Hi," she said into the phone.  "This is Karen Adams calling from
Illuminating Entertainment Group.  I handle Nathaniel Murray and he would
like to attend your opening tomorrow night."  Her eyes widened and she
looked up at me.  "They put me on hold!" she yelled.

	"Is that good?" I asked.

	"Well, they didn't hang up."  Her attention went back to the phone.
She placed her hand over the phone.  "How many people do you want to bring
with you?" she asked.

	"Um, I don't know.  Four?"

	"Four," she said into the phone.  "Ok.  Alright.  Very good.  Thank
you."  She snapped her phone closed.  "They said that if you come to the
side entrance, they can whisk you and your group straight into the VIP area
without having to deal with fans and press."

	"Holy shit," I said.  "This is all really happening isn't it?"

	"You are going to be so much more fun to hang out with now," Maggie
laughed.

	"Thanks," I laughed.  "Well, here's to tomorrow night then," I said
raising my glass.  Maggie raised hers and clicked it against mine.

	"New things are around every corner," she said.

----------

	I arrived back at my apartment with a taxi full of presents.  The
cab waited while I took the first bunch upstairs.  As I fumbled with the
second batch, I felt something slip from my hands and tried to see what it
was over the mountain of packages I was already holding.

	"I got it," a voice said.  Happy to think that there was one good
Samaritan in New York, I tried to lower my boxes and bags to thank him.
Much to my surprise and somewhat to my disappointment, it was Bobby.  Bobby
who was supposed to be in LA, helping with post-production.

	"Hi Nate," he said.

	"Ghost of Christmas Present I presume?" I said, shaking my head in
bewilderment and heading back up to my apartment.

	"Let me help you with some of those," he said, taking some packages
from me.  He didn't seem to be giving me much choice so I let him follow me
up.  I thought about asking him how he knew where I lived, but I remembered
that he was quite resourceful.  Bobby followed me inside, leaving the door
open behind him.  Putting my stuff down, I had the chance to look at him.
He was dressed in a big sweater with a big scarf and a funny woolen hat
with one of those pompom things on top.  California people always dressed
for New York like they were visiting Antarctica.  I of course couldn't help
but notice how adorable he looked, but I of course also never really
expected to see him standing in my living room.

	"It's great to see you looking so well," he said.

	"Bobby, why do you keep doing this?" I asked, not wanting to waste
time with pleasantries.  "I don't want to be mean to you.  I have only good
things to say about you, but you shouldn't keep doing this."

	"I didn't want to leave things the way we did in Egypt," Bobby
said.  "I didn't want you to think I was just some sad little hopeless
kid."

	"So you're here to tell me you're not interested in me anymore?"

	"Not exactly, but I wanted you to know that I can be an adult about
all this.  I'm not an immature kid, Nate."

	"I don't think you are."  We stood there for a moment staring at
each other, not sure what to say next.  Then Bobby started laughing, and
for some reason, I started too as well.

	"This is so silly, Nate.  We spent so much time together.  We know
each other.  We shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable around each other."

	"You're right, but we can't be friends Bobby.  It just won't work."

	"Why not?" he asked.  He looked at me with his bright eyes, but it
looked as though something was different.  I thought about it for a moment,
but then realized it wasn't how they looked, but how I felt while looking
at them.  I wasn't infatuated with him anymore.  He was an adorable, funny
guy, but that was it.

	"I told Josh everything," I said.  "I told him about us and he left
me."

	"But if he left then we can..." The excitement rose in his voice.

	"I want him back, Bobby.  I'm going to do everything I can to get
him back.  So you see why I can't be friends with you."

	"But it's not meant to be," Bobby countered, making me realize that
he most definitely had come here with the intent to get me back.

	"Bobby, you should go.  I can't keep doing this.  Why can't you
just move on?"

	"Can you move on from JC?" Bobby asked, thinking he had made a
point.

	"Jesus Christ, Bobby, are you mental or something?  Josh and I had
a relationship.  We were in love.  You and I had a few drunken nights
together and then you blew me in the woods."  His expression possibly
couldn't have looked more pained, but I didn't know what else to do.  I
didn't want to be crass, but he was refusing to see things how they were.
I wondered if there was a fatal attraction aspect to his personality, but
didn't honestly think so.  If anything I thought that I was probably the
first person he had very strong feelings for, and he didn't yet have the
capacity to realize that not all relationships worked out.

	Bobby walked straight up to me and without giving me a chance to do
anything, pressed his lips against mine.  I tried to push him away but his
grip was tight and apparently I didn't have all my strength back.  "I'm
always going to love you, Nate," he said, his hands moving from my arms to
my face.

	"Until you meet someone else," I offered.  Our embrace was broken
by a sound from the door.  I looked toward it to find Edward, looking quite
confused, bent over and scrambling to pick up the packages he dropped.

	"Sorry," Edward said.  "The door was open, sorry."  I hadn't told
him anything about Bobby or my breakup with JC.  "I, I'm going." He turned
and headed down the stairs.

	"Oh fuck," I yelled, glaring at Bobby.  "Edward," I called out.
"Edward."  I started chasing after him.  I caught up with him nearly at the
end of the block.  The kid was really quick.  "Edward, stop!" I yelled.  He
slowed down, but he didn't turn around.  I stopped running and walked up to
him.

	Edward turned and looked at me.  "It's none of my business," he
said.  "I just wanted to bring you your gifts."

	"Let me explain," I said.

	"How could you, Nate?  How could you do it to Josh?"

	"You're misunderstanding what was happening up there.  You don't
have all the facts.  It's not what you think, though I can't say you are
off by much."

	"What?"

	I explained to him from the beginning.  I told him that I did have
an affair with the guy upstairs, but that I had broken it off.  I told him
that I had told JC and that JC broke up with me as a result.  "Bobby is
just still trying to get me back," I said.  "But I am only focused on
winning back Josh's trust."  Edward just stood there, looking quite
horrified.  "I suppose I've lost your respect as well now."

	"We're supposed to be brothers, aren't we?" Edward asked.

	"Yes, of course."

	"Well then, whatever you do, I still respect you.  I still look up
to you."  I smiled at him and gave him a hug.  "Poor Josh, though," he
said.  "He's just so nice."

	"I agree," I said.  I convinced Edward to come back to my apartment
and I was somewhat surprised to find Bobby gone once again.  While I was
momentarily relieved, I also realized that he still wasn't finished.  The
idea of having to have one more discussion with him was exhausting.

	"So are you all ready for your trip?" I asked.

	"Yeah," Edward said.  "I packed last night and I leave tomorrow
morning."

	"So the skiing in New England just isn't enough for you anymore?"

	"I've done all the slopes," he said.  "I think Colorado will be a
nice challenge."

	"Well, I'm glad you've made some nice friends at school.  You
should all have a great time."

	We exchanged gifts and then Edward had to get going.  Pulling off
my clothes and slipping under the warm covers, I reflected upon a
thoroughly exhausting day.  I suppose that I should have been happy to have
had the stamina to get through it.  Before drifting off to sleep, I hoped
that tomorrow would, for once in a long time, be a day of fun.

----------

	The morning went fine.  So did the afternoon.  I mailed some
presents and confirmed the hotel reservations for my parents who were
flying in tomorrow morning.  I invited Morris and Erin along with Maggie
and I to the club later tonight.  They were both more than happy to come
along.  We all went out for a very expensive dinner, and then got in a cab
bound for 'Mist.'  We were all having a really good time, loosened up from
the bit of wine at dinner.  I only had a few sips because I was still
technically in recovery, though I was really starting to at least
physically feel like my old self.

	The club was packed with people and press.  A line extended down
the entire block.  "This is never going to work," I said, as we walked
toward the side entrance.

	"Oh, come on," Erin said.  "You're way famous."  Bracing myself for
some type of insulting rejection, I walked over to the woman with the
headset, standing next to the large bouncer.

	"Mr. Murray," she said before I had the chance to speak.  "We have
a table for your party all set up and waiting.  The bouncer opened the door
and we all filed in.  The woman walked us down a nondescript corridor and
to a door that opened into a room that loomed above the main dance floor.
Almost everyone in the room was at once recognizable and I thought to
myself that I may be a bit out of my element.  We were shown to a small
table and someone arrived immediately to take our drink orders.

	"If you need anything, please let me know," the woman said.  "And
feel free to tell people you liked the club or to make your way downstairs
and possibly be photographed."

	"I'll do my best," I said.

	"Oh my God," Erin said.  "That's Nicole Kidman and Lenny Kravitz."
We all turned and looked.  She was right.  It was.  "And there's Hugh
Jackman."

	"That doesn't count," I said.  "I already know him."  Hugh and I
had both been on Broadway at the same time last year.  We had met a few
times at parties and he even sent flowers to the hospital in Egypt when I
sick.  Hugh waved at me and I waved back.

	"You're going to need to start bringing better friends than us to
things like this," Morris laughed.

	"Oh Morris," I laughed.  "I would never forget those who were with
me when I was on the bottom."

	"Come dance with me," Maggie said, standing up and grabbing my
hand.

	"We just got here," I protested.

	"Just come on, it will be good for you.  It will butch you up in
the press to be seen dancing with a tasty little dish like me."  House
music blasted throughout the space as Maggie led me to the dance floor.  We
started to dance while I scanned the crowd to determine if I was still the
best looking guy there, even among the celebrities.  While trying to be as
objective as possible, I decided that I was.

	"Yes, you are the most gorgeous person here," Maggie said, reading
my mind.  I laughed and spun her around.  Music with a bit of Latin flavor
started and we did a little salsa.

	"People are looking at you like they recognize you, Natty."

	"I hope this is what I want," I yelled into her ear, hoping she
could hear me better than I could hear her.  "The only other person who
became famous before their movies came out was James Dean, and that didn't
end too well."

	"Don't say stuff like that," she said.  "I'm very superstitious."
After dancing for a while, Maggie suddenly pulled me close to her and
whispered into my ear, "Maybe we should just leave now."

	"Why?" I laughed.  I was really having a good time.

	"Let's just go," she said.  She seemed serious.

	"Maggie, what's wrong?"

	"Um, nothing, just don't turn around, ok?"  Did she think saying it
like that was going to stop me.  I looked over my shoulder to see some
pretty recognizable faces.  Justin and Lance were laughing and talking in
the VIP area.  I didn't really see what the problem was until they parted
and I saw JC standing in between them, holding a drink and looking like he
was pretending to pay attention to what they were joking about.  My heart
skipped a beat and I suddenly felt like a nervous wreck.  I turned back to
look at Maggie.

	"I should have known," I said.  I was having too much fun.

	"What are you going to do?" Maggie asked.

	"I'm going to go talk to him," I said.

	"Natty, don't, this isn't a good place to do it."

	"This may be my only chance.  He wont talk to me when I call him."
I turned away from Maggie and started heading back toward the VIP area.  I
didn't know what I was going to say.  I didn't know if I even had something
to say.  My emotions were so conflicted.  I felt a bit angry that he was
ignoring me, but I also felt guilty for causing such a problem in the first
place. As I neared the velvet ropes, Justin saw me coming and immediately
walked toward me.

	"What do you think you are doing?" he said angrily, blocking my
entrance to the area.  I felt like I had had these interactions with Justin
before.  He seemed to always want me to be impressed with who he was, but I
just couldn't bring myself to be.

	"I'm going inside," I said.

	"You're not welcome in here," he said, blocking me as I tried to
move past him."

	"Justin, read the fuckin' paper, you're not the only celebrity
here."  I looked over his shoulder to see JC standing some distance back, a
look of confusion on his face.

	"I don't care how famous you get, Nate, you've hurt Josh once again
and I'm not going to let you upset him more."

	"So now you suddenly care about Josh so much?" I said.  "Where were
you when he was in Africa?"

	"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as dismissively as
possible.

	"I think it means that you're a real great friend when you don't
have something better to do, like parading around Europe with that old
lady."

	"Fuck you," he said.  "Josh is like a brother to me, you don't know
anything."

	"Your loyalty is admirable," I said, growing tired of the
conversation.  "Now get the fuck out of my way."  People were starting to
take notice of the growing conflict between us.  It felt like photographers
were holding their cameras at bay, just waiting for something good to
happen.  Justin looked like he was momentarily intimidated, but then seemed
to grow angrier that I was capable of making him feel that way.  He held
his position.

	"Justin," I began, not really knowing what else to say.  "I'm sorry
that your solo music sucks so much that you had to suck it up and become a
boy-band member again, but don't take it out on me."  It was a bit off
topic, but I really liked pissing him off.  Unfortunately I saw his eyes
widen, and then his fist come flying at my face.  The kid was pretty strong
and I found myself crashing down onto the floor in a sea of dancers and
onlookers.  Flash bulbs shot off at lightning speed, making me feel dizzy.
I hit the ground and my first thought was that if Justin had broken my
nose, I would kill him.  My second thought was that this all felt oddly
familiar.  I looked up to see JC walking toward me.

	"Jesus Christ," I heard him say, shoving Justin out of the way.
"What the fuck did you do that for?"  He knelt down next to me and helped
me up to a sitting position.  "Are you ok?" he asked.

	"Why do people keep hitting me?" I mumbled, mostly to myself.  I
had managed to make it twenty-six years without getting into a physical
altercation.  Now, within a couple of months, I had gotten my lights
punched out twice.  I was going to get a bad reputation if I wasn't
careful.

	JC grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and someone handed him a
glass of ice.  He wrapped the ice cubes in the napkin and pressed it
against my nose.  I winced, but it didn't feel broken.

	"Is it bleeding?" I asked.

	"A little," he said.  Everyone was asking lots of questions and
offering lots of help, but it was like we were alone in a cave made of
people.  All I saw was him.

	"He shouldn't have done that," JC said.  "I wouldn't have wanted
him to do that."

	"I know," I said.  We sat there on the ground, JC pressing the
napkin against my face.  After a few moments he seemed to realize what he
was doing and I could feel him pull back.

	"You should take this," he said quietly.  I raised up my hand and
took hold of the napkin, feeling his hand slide against mine as he drew it
away.

	"How are you doing?" I asked him, hoping to keep him on the floor
with me.

	"Good," he said.  "Well, not good but fine."

	"I've been trying to call you."

	"I know."

	"Were you planning on never talking to me again?"

	"I don't know."

	"Can't we talk about this some more?"

	"Maybe," he said, looking up and around at the people staring at
us.  "You should get up."  JC extended his hand and helped me off the
ground.  People from the club came to see if I was all right, and I noticed
Justin and Lance were now at the other corner of the room.  Maggie, Morris
and Erin saw me, but I could see that they didn't want to interrupt the
chance I had to talk to JC.

	We walked over to the bar and sat up on the stools.

	"You look a lot healthier," JC said, noting the irony of saying
this while I held a napkin to my bloody nose.  "You look like you're back
to your regular weight."

	"Yeah, well, I get pretty determined about things," I said.  "So,"
I began.  "Do you still hate me?"  He looked so beautiful and tragic in his
fitted black shirt and dark jeans, his hair straightened and hanging over
his face.  He smiled a little and turned his face away.

	"I don't hate you, Nate.  I just can't be with you anymore."

	"Come on, Josh," I said, feigning a smile.  "Let's just forget all
about this and go back to how things were before."

	"I'm too old for this stuff, Nate," he said.  "I don't want to play
around anymore."

	"Josh, I don't know if I can live without you."

	He looked at me with his brilliant blue eyes.  "I, I can't trust
you," he said.  His words felt like a knife in my heart.

	"Do you really feel that way?"

	"I have to," he said.  "How can I let you get away with the one
thing I swore I would never let someone get away with again?"

	"Because it's me," I answered.  "Because I'm still sitting here
waiting for you to come back."

	"And what do I do the next time I see you talking to some cute guy
on a movie set?  Don't you get that for the rest of my life I would have to
wonder?"

	"I'm telling you that you don't, but at some point you would just
have to trust me again."  He sat there staring at me while I stared back.
I moved the napkin from my face and placed it on the bar.  His hand was
resting on the bar and I moved mine to it.  "You can still feel it, can't
you?" I asked, perhaps with a bit more confidence than I should have.

	"What?"

	"The electricity," I said.  He almost smiled, but then bit the
inside of his cheek and took his hand away.

	"I have to go," he said, standing up.

	"Josh," I said.

	"What?" he asked.

	"It's just that, I've had the chance to confront my past and
present over the past few days."

	"You mean like Scrooge?" he said, looking at me a bit strangely.

	"Yeah," I said.  "I know it sounds ridiculous, but, well, I've
realized something."

	"And what is that?" he asked, looking like he really wanted to
leave.

	"If that's what's happening," I said slowly, "then you're my
future."

	He looked at me for a moment, trying to keep his expression as
blank as possible.  "We'll see," he eventually said, before turning around
and heading back to his friends.  He was quickly replaced by Maggie, who
took his seat.

	"Well, how did it go?" she asked.

	"It looks like it's going to be a bumpy road," I said.  "But I'm
not without hope."

	"That's fabulous Natty," she said.  We talked a bit more until I
saw Lance approaching.  I asked Maggie to excuse us, not sure of what he
might say.

	"Boy you really fucked up," Lance said, occupying the seat vacated
by Maggie and previously by JC.

	"Go to hell," I said, looking out into the crowd.

	"I actually wanted to apologize for Justin's behavior," he said to
my surprise.  "It wasn't very classy."

	"And you would know all about class," I snorted.

	"Look," Lance said.  "I'd say we're pretty even.  You have
something on me, remember?  Whatever I may have had doesn't really matter
now, does it?"

	"I guess not," I said reluctantly.

	"You can get him back you know?" he said, looking over at JC who
seemed to be in the process of explaining something to someone.  The guy he
was talking to looked like he was going to be there for a while.  "He was
more confident when he was with you," Lance said, noting JC's gesturing.

	"So what?" I said, wondering what it mattered at this point.

	"I don't know what Justin's deal is," Lance began, "but I do want
to see Josh happy, despite whatever you might think."

	"What are you saying?" I asked.

	"Just don't give up," he said.  "Josh only thinks he can't be with
you.  I know he wants to be though."  I turned to Lance.  He was really
trying to be helpful.  I was reminded of how much I liked him when we first
met.

	"Thanks for the advice," I said.

	"No problem," he responded.  "Just look out for angry pop stars."
He winked at me and walked away.  It was somewhat comforting to think that
someone in JC's group would be encouraging him to come back to me, even
though I had serious doubts about Lance's ethics.

	I stayed for a bit longer, just to show the public that I was fine,
but once we were out I couldn't wait to get home.  I could only imagine
what the papers and news shows were going to say tomorrow about Justin
punching an actor at a club opening, especially since it was the "best
friend" of his band mate.

	I got home, not really knowing what to make of the evening.  Like
everything else as of late, it was a jumble of occurrences and emotions.  I
was too wound up to sleep, so I decided to start packing again.  It was
probably around 3:30 in the morning when I heard a knock at my door.
Instantly I thought that Bobby must have worked his way inside once again.
Taking a deep breath, I planned to take care of this once and for all.  I
didn't care how mean I had to be or what I had to do.  This had to stop.

	I walked over to the door and braced myself.  "Look," I almost
yelled, pulling the door open.  My planned speech was interrupted by JC's
lips crashing against my own.  I was so confused, but I wasn't going to
question.  Hungrily (or angrily, I wasn't sure), he kissed me, his hands
tearing at my clothes.  I could taste the alcohol on his breath, but I
didn't have the impression he was drunk.

	"Josh," I purred.  "Josh."

	"Don't talk," was all he said as he pushed me toward the couch.  I
fell back onto it as he quickly started to unbutton my shirt.  I kissed
whatever part of him was available as he pulled my shirt off and brought
his lips to my chest.  He licked up and down my midsection, slipping down
in between my legs as he tongued my naval.

	"I missed you so much," I said, running my fingers through his
hair, hoping he would say the same thing.  He said nothing, just grunting
softly as he undid my belt and started unzipping my pants.  Was this his
way of forgiving me?  I lifted my ass off the couch so he could pull my
pants and underwear down.  He grasped my rapidly hardening cock and started
licking around the head.

	"Oh God," I sighed, feeling my cock lengthen to its full hardness.
JC's grip on it was tight, and he started to lick it up and down like an
ice cream cone.  He squeezed out a drop of precum and lapped it up.  He
opened his mouth and took me inside him, taking me all the way down to the
base of my cock.  I felt my cock enter his throat and moaned.  JC started
moving up and down on my cock, sucking, licking and nibbling.

	"Is this what he did?" he asked in between licks.  "Did he suck
your cock?"

	"Josh, don't," I sighed.  This was totally not the time to talk
about this.

	"Tell me," he said, squeezing the head of my cock between the roof
of his mouth and tongue.  I could already feel the climax building within
me.

	"Yes," I said.  It was the first time I felt incredibly sad as I
approached orgasm.  Who would have known it was possible?  "But just once,
and that was all that happened."  I bit my lip to stop myself from cumming.

	JC pulled off my cock, stroking it with his hand.  "That's all?" he
said quietly.  His voice sounded so sexy.  "You don't think this is
intimate?"

	"Yes, of course I do," I pleaded, moving my hips a little.  "With
you it is, only with you."  JC brought his mouth back down on my cock and
started bopping up and down on it fast and hard.  I warned him that I was
going to cum, but he just kept sucking.  "Ungh, oahh, ahhh, ahhhhhh!" I
moaned, releasing my load inside his mouth.  He drank my cum with great
thirst, and I could feel his tongue playing with my slit, making sure he
got it all.  I finished cumming and he pulled off my cock, breathing
heavily, looking down at the ground.  After a few moments he stood up and
looked as though he was going to leave.  "This was what he came for?" I
wondered.  He came to suck me and leave?

	I looked up at him as I saw him turn and decided to take matters
into my own hands.  I grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the couch.
I swung myself over him and kissed him deeply, tasting a bit of myself in
the process.  He didn't protest, but he didn't look exceptionally
comfortable.  I slid down onto the ground between his legs and pushed his
shirt up his chest until I could suck on his nipples, eliciting a soft
groan from him.  I went back and forth between them, inhaling his scent.
His body was tighter than it had been a few weeks ago, and the definition
in his thin muscles was very apparent.  My mouth trailed down his stomach
as I began to undo his pants, just as he did mine.  Soon, his giant cock
was staring up at me, arching out of his trimmed brown bush.  I took him
into my mouth, my hands twisting his nipples, causing him to cry out in
ecstasy.  His cock reached its full length and I took it out of my mouth to
admire it.  It truly was a beautiful sight.  It's shape, it's feel, it's
smell, it was all perfect.  I sucked him some more, one of my hands moving
down to play with his smooth balls.  Wanting more access to him, I started
to undo his shoes and pulled off his pants completely.  I bent his knees
and forced his feet up on the couch as I took his cock into my mouth once
again.  My right hand found his hole, and I started rubbing my index finger
against it.

	"Ohhh," JC moaned, encouraging me.  I felt the smooth ridges of his
hole, pinching it with my fingers, occasionally trying to push in deeper.
I could feel his cock leaking in my mouth and I knew he was getting close.
JC had reached his own hand down and played with his balls as I sucked and
finger fucked him.  My left hand was wrapped around the base of his cock,
twisting like a wrench, allowing my mouth to move more easily around his
still sizeable length.

	"Oh God," he called.  "I'm close."  He drew his knees up higher,
further exposing his hole to me, which I continued to play with.  His legs
started to move toward each other until I started to feel them softly
squeeze my head.  I was locked in a JC vice, and I couldn't have thought of
a place I would rather be.  The soft hairs on his legs caressed my face as
I sucked him harder, hearing him start to whimper.  His hole had relaxed
from my persistent playing with it and my finger was now slipping easily in
and out.

	"Uuuhh, fuck, fuck," he shouted as he began to cum.  I felt a burst
of liquid in my mouth, then another, then another.  He tasted salty and
sweet, I couldn't believe it was my first time taking his cum.  He shot a
few more times, thrusting into my throat.  I wasn't swallowing fast enough
and a bit dribbled out of my mouth.  Once he had calmed down, I released
his cock from my mouth, scooping the cum off my face with my finger and
licking it clean.  I crawled back up JC's sweaty body and pressed my lips
against his.  He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue inside.  He only
did it for a moment though before breaking the embrace.

	"I'm glad you came," I smiled, laying my head against his shoulder.
"That was amazing."

	"I have to go," he said, shifting underneath me.

	"Go?" I asked.  "You're leaving?"

	"Yeah," he said, sitting up and pulling on his underwear and jeans.

	"You can stay, Josh.  You can always stay."

	"It's not a good idea," he said, slipping into his shoes and
standing up.

	"Josh, what was this?"  I was feeling quite confused.  I was almost
feeling kind of used.

	"I don't know," he said.  "I'm sorry."  He stumbled toward the
door, a bit zombie like.  I wished I could know what he was thinking.

	"Josh, stay, please."

	He turned to look at me.  "I'll send someone to get my stuff
tomorrow," he said.  "I, uh, hope you have a nice holiday."

	"Josh?"

	"Yeah?"

	"Will you answer the phone when I call?"

	"Yeah," he said.  He didn't smile, but he didn't frown either.  I
watched him walk out of my life once again, wondering how many more times I
may have to witness this.  I pulled myself off the floor and hustled into
my bedroom.  I looked out the window to watch him descend the stairs of my
building, out onto the sidewalk.  A light snow had started to fall.  He
normally walked so quickly, but his pace was noticeably slowed.  I pressed
my hand against the glass, wishing it could reach him.  He moved up the
block but then stopped and turned around.  He looked up at my window and
saw me staring down at him.  I smiled and waved my hand back and forth
across the glass.  He stood there for what seemed like hours.  Then, to my
astonishment, I saw a slight smile spread across his face.  His scarf was
tight around his neck, and little pieces of white were filling his hair.
He held his smile, only for a moment, but it was one of those images you
wish you could freeze in time.  I didn't know if I would ever see something
this beautiful again.  He turned back and continued on his way.  People
often refer to this time of the year as a season of hope.  For the first
time, I understood what they meant.


To be continued