DISCLAIMER: The story you are about to read is fictional. I have used celebrities but in no way am I saying that this story is true. In my world, the celebrities are gay and engage in Male/Male sex.

That's it, it's fake, just like a certain teen diva's breasts. The writer of this story was harmed due to the fact that it took me over a month to post another chapter. But I've healed up and now glued to my chair until I completed this chapter. So enjoy.

I would like to dedicate this chapter to the real Greg Taylor, in no way am I implying that you really are an asshole in real life, and you can't sue me since you already gave me your permission to base this character on you, so there. Thank you my friend, cheers.

Other stories by Wolfflyer

Moonlight will Prevail-located in Highschool section

Let it Rain-located in the boy bands section





"Can't I come in?"

Holding tightly to the door, Justin shook his no and said, "I don't think so. I've nothing to say to you."

"Come on Just. I really need to see you."

Justin could smell the alcohol on his breath and could see that he had a hard time standing straight, so against his better judgement, he said, "Alright Jc, but only for a little while."

"Thanks," Jc murmured.

Justin opened the door wide as Jc stumbled into the house. Justin studied him as he walked over to the couch and ungracefully flopped down on the leather cushions.

Jc had let his hair grow long and had highlighted it with light brown streaks. But it was disheveled and matted as it hung just passed his shoulders. Justin mused that he had just gotten done with his show or he had stopped taking baths.

Jc was skinnier than Justin had ever seen and had a haunting look of sadness in his blue eyes. His clothes were wrinkled and his shirt was half tucked in and half hanging loose. His face was gaunt and his eyes were puffy from lack of sleep. Justin felt anger at his friend's appearance and his apparent lack of self-control. Jc had started drinking again.

"So," Justin said as he sat down on the arm of a chair that was across from Jc's seat on the couch. "What do you want?"

Jc looked at him bleary eyed as he replied, "Nothing, I just missed you."

Justin stood up and stated, "I don't have time for this Jc. I've plans tonight."

Jc looked away for a moment before trying to stand up. Realizing that he couldn't, he relaxed back against the sofa.

"You used to call me Josh. You haven't called me Jc in years." Came the reply.

"You haven't had a drink in years, Jc." Justin spat. "Lots of things seemed to have changed."

"Yea, I guess they did." Jc sighed as he reached into his coat and pulled out a flask. Taking a deep drink of the liqueur, he once again tried to stand up.

"You're so fucking wasted." Justin said with a look of disgust on his face. "What happened to you?"

This time Jc managed to stand up, fueled by the stinging remarks from Justin, he retorted, "What did happen to me? Maybe it was because my best friend is such a dick. Or maybe it's because my boyfriend up and left me without giving me an explanation. Or maybe because it's the only way I could get enough courage to come here and talk to you."

"Fuck you Jc." Justin said through clenched teeth. "Or maybe cause you're so weak that you run to a bottle every time life gets a bit hard or intense."

"Oh really." Jc stated he stood nose to nose with his former friend and lover.

Jc was so close that Justin could smell the booze on his breath. A fetid smell that made him feel nauseous. But he didn't back down or move away. Not this time, not ever again.

Instead, he continued, staring at Jc face to face, "You always were weak Jc. Too bad I didn't realize that a long time ago."

"Not weak enough to still kick your ass." Jc said angrily.

The moment that statement left his lips, Justin reared back and punched the singer in the jaw. Jc crumpled like a wet napkin and fell to the floor. Justin was aiming for the nose but his inexperience led him to hit the singer in the jaw.

Jc rubbed his cheek as he said, "Whatcha go and do that for?"

Justin winced from the pain that was coming from his hand but determinedly continued; "I'm not the same naïve kid I was back then Jc. Loud talk and threats just don't scare me anymore."

Pointing his finger at his former lover, Justin said slowly and so softly that Jc had to strain to hear him, "Don't you ever threaten me again."

Jc had set up, he was sitting on the floor with his legs in front of him. Absently he rubbed his jaw and at the same time he mumbled, "God I hate you."

Justin was shocked. He had been prepared for anything Jc could say or do. But that stunned him. Jc hated him. He wasn't prepared for that. He sat down in the chair and looked at his friend.

"You hate me. What did I ever do to you to make you hate me?" He asked quietly.

Jc started laughing, "You left me. You left me for a guy you don't even know. Hell, you left me for a fucking dream."

"Don't pull this shit on me Jc." Justin shook his head with anger. "You lied to me, you used me."

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Jc laugh again. "I used you."

"Damn right you did."

"If I did, it was only because you wanted me too." Jc explained in a mocking tone. "I didn't lie to you, you lied to yourself."

"Fuck you, you knew the way I feel about Scott. You didn't tell me about it cause you wanted to keep me for yourself." Justin declared loudly.

"Feel about Scott?" Jc's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're still hung up on that junkie."

Justin hadn't really noticed that he had said feel. For a moment, he remembered the conversation that Lance and him had a few days ago.

"In a way he is, but there is something about him that is so damn intriguing. I find myself thinking about him more and more. I didn't even fuck him and I can't get him out of my head." Justin complained to no one in particular.

Lance smiled, finally it made since. "You are in love with him aren't you?"

"Whatever!" Justin exclaimed.

Shaking his head to clear the memory, he glanced at the ceiling for a moment before replying to Jc.

"Does it matter if I am?" Justin answered. "It's none of your concern anymore."

"It isn't?" Jc asked. "It matters too me. You could do so much better than that little freak."

"I'm not so sure. I've tried you and it didn't seem to work out so well. Maybe I need to try a freak." Justin taunted him.

Jc took out his flask again. After emptying the contents in his stomach, he said, "We could try it again you know."

"Is that why you came over here? To get me back." Justin asked through his smile.

"We were good together." Jc mumbled.

"No we weren't." Justin said sadly.

Jc slurred, "We were happy once."

"No we weren't." Justin stated. "You might have been happy, but I hated it. I just didn't know how to tell you or leave you."

Jc stood up and weaved back and forth. Tears were forming at the corners of his troubled eyes. He turned and staggered over to a table that was standing in the foyer and peered intently into the mirror that hung above it.

Staring at his reflection, he asked in a whisper, "Was I so bad?"

All the anger he held inside since leaving Jc vanished in that moment. He no longer felt hatred for the drunken singer. It was replaced by pity.

"Yes, you were." Justin answered quietly. "It was always your way or no way."

"But I loved...love you." Jc stammered through his tears still peering into the mirror.

"Jc...Josh, you were in love with the idea of me. I was like all those awards you've won. You put me on a shelf with the rest of the shit you coveted." Justin said as tears flowed down his cheeks.

Images flashed through the drunken haze that had surrounded Jc's life for months. For the first time he saw himself through Justin's eyes, and he hated what he saw. He reached for the flask but remembered it was empty.

"Do you have a drink here?" He gasped through his tears.

Justin stood behind him and placed his hands on the shoulders of the dark haired singer.

Quietly he asked, "How much do you have to drink until you can't see yourself anymore?"

Jc seemed to shrink under the pressure that Justin applied. He managed to choke out, "I still see myself. I can't get away from it."

Justin grabbed Jc's head and forced him to look at his own reflection in the mirror. Jc's crying intensified as he looked at himself.

"Josh, you can't do this anymore. It's gonna kill you." Justin declared fiercely. "Hiding won't solve anything."

Jc turned around and hugged his friend. Justin wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly. Jc sobbed into his shoulder as he gripped him. Like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose himself again.

"I'm so sorry Just." Jc cried. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know." Justin said as he wound his fingers in his hair and held him close. "I'm sorry for everything. Me leaving the band, me leaving you. But I couldn't stay anymore."

"I won't pretend to understand it. But it doesn't matter anyway, I've lost you." Jc sobbed.

Breaking the hug, Justin made Jc look at him. Wiping away the tears, he said, "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, but anything lost can be found again if you search long enough."

"And I know that I can't hate you Jc. Too much has happened to us. But it can't be like it was before, I'm not that kid anymore." Justin explained.

"I know." Jc agreed. "I think I've always known."

Glancing at his watch, Justin said, "Jc, it was good to see you again. But I'm late for a party. I have to go."

Wiping his nose on the sleeve of his coat, Jc said, "I'm...I should get going. I have a concert tomorrow night in New York."

Jc turned and opened the door. As he walked outside, Justin called out after him, "Jc, after the tour is over, I would love to talk to you and the rest of the guys."

"Me too." Jc admitted. "I'll keep in touch. Bye Just."

"Take care Josh." Justin replied with sincerity.

Justin watched as his friend got into his waiting car. He watched with a great sadness that shook the core of his soul. How did things get so fucked up between the members of Nysnc? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Oh shit." He exclaimed as he ran into the house. "He's going to kill me."

Calling a taxi, he waited impatiently on the front porch. Pushing the encounter with Jc out of his mind, he remembered why he was celebrating that night. He was finally free and able to make the record that he wanted to make. It was a night for celebration, after all, he won his freedom and started repairing his friendship with his best friend.

With a huge smile, he entered the taxi and stated his destination. By the time he arrived at Stallions, he was pumped and ready for a night of fun. It was going to be a night to remember.


Scott's parents had finally left the hospital, leaving Scott and Shelia alone in Scott's room. The two friends had spent the last few hours catching up on each other's lives. The closeness they once shared was stronger than ever.

"I can't believe you're fucking Leo." Scott repeated for the fifth time in as many minutes. "How is he?"

"I'm not gonna tell you, pervert." Shelia giggled as she pushed Scott's face into the pillow.

Both of them were lying on the bed opposite of each other so that their heads were next to one another's. And every few seconds they would make body contact. Either a brief touch of foreheads or a simple caress of each other's faces. To anyone that didn't know any better, they looked like two lovers.

"Come on, how big is his cock?" Scott begged with a grin.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head in disgust.

"Okay," Scott bargained. "Then, how is he bed?"

Sitting up, she started to tickle him, "I'm not gonna tell you."

Scott was laughing so hard that he was having trouble breathing and by this time, Shelia was straddling his chest, tickling him unmercifully.

"Miss, if you hurt my patient, I will make you pay. I don't care who you are." Doctor Dan Reynolds said with a grin.

Shelia immediately started to blush and she quickly jumped down from her perch on Scott's chest. Scott tried to sit up but a shooting pain from his chest caused him to moan loudly.

"Are you okay?" Shelia almost shouted. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Scott gave her a weak grin and replied, "No, it wasn't you. I think it was that man over there."

Shelia had a look of confusion on her beautiful face. She brushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes and gave the doctor a questioning look.

"What is this? You hurt his chest?"

Laughing, Dan shook his head. Replying as he pulled a chair over to the bed, "I was beating him the other day."

Shelia still didn't understand why a doctor would be beating on a patient's chest. Once the two men figured out that she was clueless, they started to laugh harder. But that only made Scott wince in pain.

"Well, don't tell me what's so funny." She said to the two men. "Anyway, it's late and I need some sleep. See you later tiger."

Shelia bent down and kissed Scott on the cheek. He gave her a halfhearted grin and said, "Thank you, for everything. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course, I still need to know about that face you saw in your dream." She reminded him. "Bye."

The two men watched her leave the room. When the door closed, Dan got right to the point.

"Okay, Scott. I didn't do this right away this morning when you woke up cause I know that you needed some time with the family." Dan started in a professional manner.

"Alright, shoot doc." Scott gave him permission as he put his arms behind his head. But only for a moment as another jolt shot through his ribs, he quickly lowered his arms back to his stomach.

A look of concern crossed the wise old face and Dan offered, "If that hurts too bad, I can give you something for it. Anyway, let me check your ribs. I probably cracked a few, though I don't see how these olds hands could've done that."

"Well, lets just say that I don't want you beating on my chest anymore." Scott said as he tenderly touched his left side.

Dan stood over Scott and gently felt around on that side. He kept looking at Scott's face so he would know when it hurt him. He started right at the waistline and gently, softly worked his way up the left side of the ribcage.

Right below his left nipple, his hand brushed over the pale skin. At that moment, Scott's face crinkled in pain.

"Ah, I think I found it." Dan said absently.

"Yea you did." Scott answered through clenched teeth.

Probing a bit deeper, he finally said, "Its not broken, just badly bruised. It will take a few days, then it will get better."

Sitting back down in the chair, he asked, "Do you want something for the pain?"

Shaking his head, Scott replied, "I don't think so. I seem to have a problem with things that numb me."

"Okay," Dan said understanding the temptation of painkillers. "But let me know if it gets worse."

"What did you want to ask me?" Scott said as he tried to get a bit more comfortable. He took his hands and rubbed them over his short blonde hair.

Almost as an afterthought he said, "Damn, I don't remember getting my hair cut off."

Chuckling, Dan continued, "Okay, how are you feeling? Any headaches, any nausea, blurry vision, anything like that?"

"My headaches. From the time I woke up it's been pounding." Scott admitted. "As for blurry vision, I don't know, I don't seem to have my contacts and right now everything is blurry."

Grinning broadly, Dan asked, "Are you ever serious?"

"Not if I can help."

"You do know that this is serious? You were dead for fourteen minutes." Dan intoned.

Sighing loudly, Scott looked at the ceiling, trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he spoke, "I know, I've been given a second chance. I don't know..."

"The headaches are normal, and they should become less over time. Eventually they should just go away, but they could be around permanently. I'm not a neurologist, but I would recommend that you go and see a specialist. You seem like you are okay, but I would feel better if you got that head of yours examined." Dan tried to convince him.

"I'm fine, really. I don't know how I know, but I'm fine." Scott struggled to find the words. "It's time to put all that behind me, I have to move forward."

"We can talk about that later, how are you feeling other than the headaches." Dan asked.

"Other than the head, and the ribs, I feel like a brand new man." Scott explained. "And if you're asking in a roundabout way, I don't even have a craving to get high."

"I was wondering about that." Dan admitted. "Somehow you've managed to miss all the bad things that go with detox."

Scott grinned, "I know, but oh what a price."

"Yea," Chuckled the balding doctor. "You are the luckiest person alive right now."

Turning serious, Scott asked, "Have you seen Garet?"

"I was planning on telling you later." Dan said.

Closing his eyes, Scott demanded softly, "Tell me."

"His mother is in the hospital, I don't know what's wrong. But he left a couple days ago and I haven't seen him."

"And Garion and Greg?"

"Garion was here but left after you woke up, Greg's been here off and on." Dan said carefully. "I don't know if it's my place or not. But I think you should talk to them as soon as possible."

"Why?" Scott asked.

"I think you should." Dan repeated himself. "That's all I'm going to say."


"No buts. Now, I'll go see what the nurse did with your contacts. I'll be back shortly." Dan said.

Scott watched the doctor leave the room, or saw the blurry outline leave. Taking deep breaths, he tried to control the panic attack that came over him. Thinking to himself, he kept repeating that he was fine and that it was going to be all right. Nevertheless, when the nurse arrived with his contacts, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Being able to see clearly again, he smiled. His vision wasn't blurry, and if he didn't think about his head, it didn't hurt. He really wasn't sleepy so he found the remote to the TV and turned it on.

As always, after surfing for a while, he settled on MTV. He wanted to hear some music; it felt like it had been a lifetime since he heard music.

Closing his eyes, he let the music enrapture his mind. For a few hours he listened, half awake, half asleep. But a familiar tune caught his attention. He knew the song well, he had written it six months ago. But what made him sit up and watch was the fact that it was on MTV. He didn't remember making a video for that song.

The lyrics to the song brought back feelings of despair. He had written that song after cooking up the biggest batch of heroin that he had ever shot. The song was about the pending doom he felt approaching. But also it was a song of bitter hope, that maybe he could be cleansed. So he watched in fascination as the video played out in front of him.

You've come to me again my friend

I've been waiting so long

Life seems strange and hard sometimes

Maybe I won't make it this time

Oh, they've taken all I have

But I just need what's left of today

And you can wash it all away

When it all comes down

And I'm feeling tired and afraid

You're always there and seem to come

When I've nothing left to give away

Now I wait for your winds to come

And give me breath for another day

And your rain to wash me

I feel the rain coming

I feel it in my heart take away my pain

I feel the rain coming

Wash me down, wash me down

Here comes the rain

Hold me now for awhile

I feel like a candle's flame in the wind

The dust of my deeds past

Covers me like a fading lie

Lie, its alive

I feel the rain coming

I feel it in my heart, wash away my pain

Wash me down, wash me down

I feel the rain coming

Here comes the rain

Bring the rain

Wash me wash me down

Here comes the rain

Suddenly he knew why he didn't remember making that video. He never did, it was taken from live shows that were filmed months ago. He knew that he didn't release a single. After the song, Kurt Loder broke in for a MTV news bulletin.

"That was Here Comes the Rain by Zylvan. As everyone knows, Scott Taylor, the lead singer of Zylvan, is recovering from a heroin addiction in Stockton California. His bandmates assured me that he is fine and out of his coma. And Greg Taylor, the drummer, has promised us that Zylvan will be here on Friday to perform their new single, right here on TRL. Greg would also like to thank everyone that has sent the band get well cards and he thanks you for your prayers. So tune in to TRL on Friday to see Zylvan, right here, on MTV."

Scott threw the remote across the room. He was so angry but the pain in his side wouldn't let him express that anger. So he lay in bed cursing loudly for a few minutes.

It had to be Greg he thought. Garet would never have agreed to do that. But he knew that Greg had always wanted control of the band. Scott wanted to talk to Greg, no; he wanted to beat the living shit out of Greg. But he had no clue where Greg was.

The only person he could call was Garet. He knew that Garet was back home taking care of his mother and brother. He grabbed the phone and dialed information.

After a few minutes, the phone started to ring. He better be home Scott thought.

The phone rang five times before someone picked up. A quiet voice said, "Hello."

"Is this..." Scott struggled to remember Garet's little brothers name. "Joshua?"

"Yes. Who's this?" Came the reply.

"This is a friend of your brothers, Scott. I'm in the band with him. Is he there?" Scott asked anxiously.

"Scott, Gar has told me a lot about you." Joshua answered in a small voice.

Scott thought he was crying. He asked, "Are you okay Josh?"

"No, Gar has fallen on the floor and I can't wake him." Josh said sobbing loudly now.

"What happened Josh?" Scott asked rising from the bed as he pushed the nurse's call button repeatedly.

"I saw him put something in his arm. Then he just fell down." Sobbed the little six-year-old.

"Josh, calm down." Scott gently ordered.

Scott waved over the nurse as soon as she ran into the room. Seeing him on the phone a look of confusion crossed her face.

Scott covered up the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, "I need you to call the Lodi police department for me. Tell them to go to this address, it's an emergency. Tell them that it's a drug overdose."

The nurse ran out of the room and Scott continued asking Joshua questions.

"Josh, how long ago did this happen?" He asked trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Long time ago." Joshua answered.

"Why didn't you call 911?" He asked.

Josh started to sob uncontrollably, "The last time I called 911, they took my mom and now she's really sick. I don't want Garet to leave me too."

"Its all right Josh, you don't have to call them. Is Garet sleeping, has he moved at all?" Questioned Scott.

"No, he hasn't moved in a long time. Before he was moaning and he started to spit up this white stuff. I tried to wipe it off but I couldn't get it fast enough." The little boy cried out.

Scott couldn't imagine what Joshua was going through. That poor little boy had seen so much pain in his short life. Scott couldn't help but weep as he tried to comfort the little boy.

"Someone's banging on the front door." Joshua broke in.

"Its okay, it's the doctors, let them in Joshua." Scott pleaded.

"No, they'll just take him away from me." Joshua shouted out to the police to go away.

Scott heard the door being kicked in and then Joshua screaming loudly at them to go away. Scott's heart broke as he heard the little boy trying to fight them away from his brother. Scott said a silent prayer.

Scott stayed on the phone listening to the paramedics working on his friend. He didn't know what was going on and it was driving him insane.

Finally, a voice spoke to him over the phone, "Hello, this is Officer Arlow, who's this."

"Is Joshua all right?" Scott almost screamed but held it to a loud yell.

"Which one is Joshua?" The officer asked.

"The little boy."

"They have him outside, but I don't think they can calm him down. Who is this?"

"This is Scott Taylor, I am a friend of the family. I'm the one who called you guys." Scott explained. "How's Garet?"

"I know you, my son likes your band. I know it's been a tough couple of weeks for you. I don't know how to say this, but he didn't make it." Officer Arlow explained gently.

"No." Scott dropped the phone. Curling up in a ball, he continued to scream until the nurse came back to the room. After trying for a few minutes to calm down him down, they finally gave him a sedative. Scott's eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.


NOTES: As always, you can contact me at Wolfflyer26@Yahoo.com all emails will be answered, promptly, and swiftly. Remember to fly.

Here comes the Rain copyright©1999 Queensryche

Peace and stuff


Copyright©2001 Glacier Boy