Date: Mon, 18 Oct 1999 22:34:41 EDT
From: Lauren2993@aol.com
Subject: Lucky Me

Hello everyone...Lauren again.  I tried to get this installment done
quicker, but it just didn't happen.  Thank you for putting up with me.
Everything contained herein is from my head, so it isn't real.  It's not
meant to imply anything about anyone involved yaddayaddayadda.  As always
if reading material about homosexuality offends you, then you're too
uptight to be hanging around here--shoo.  I'd like to advertise a few
friends of mine.  In no particular order, there's Matt (author of Search
and Rescue), DLS (author of Brian and Me) --these two kind of go
together--, RJ (author of N Sync and RJ), Rob (author of Rob and Lance, and
N Sync and the Vamps), then there's Fred (author of a new story--Bradly's
New Beginning--be sure to keep an eye out for it).  As always there are my
faithful pals Tonny, Yuli, Matt (the other one), Tom, Scott, Jeff, Rich and
Nicky, and others I've forgotten--I still love you I just haven't got a
brain in my head.  Okay, so without further ado--(let's all say it together
now) . . .on with the show.

Lucky Me -5-

Lance's eye flickered open. He propped himself up on his elbows as he tried
to focus through a sleepy haze.  His eyes scanned the dark familiarity of
the room, hoping to obtain some clue as to how he came to be there.  "How
did I get here?" he asked himself lowly.  The last thing he remembered was
getting into Luke's car.  He guessed that he'd fallen asleep there.  "So,
how'd I get here?"  He scratched his head as he tried to make his tired
mind work through the equation.  "Luke must have carried me in," Lance
mumbled.  A small smile formed across Lance's face at the thought of me
carrying him to bed.  He looked over at his clock and found it to be only
2:30 in the morning.  "God," he sighed, "I haven't gotten a good night's
sleep in weeks," he said as he got up out of bed.  Realizing that he was
still fully clothed, Lance stripped down, put on another pair of boxers,
slipped on a t-shirt, and headed downstairs.

As his bare feet hit the cold tile floor at the bottom of the staircase, a
memory flashed before his eyes.  His mind recalled the nightmares I'd had
when he and I had shared JC's room.  The scene of me tossing and turning
that night worried him, and he decided that he should check on me.

He opened the door to his guest-room a crack and slipped in.  He looked
worriedly to the bed, but found me sleeping peacefully.  He smiled to
himself as he leaned against the doorjamb.  He stood there, lost in his own
thoughts and gazing at my sleeping form, for over half an hour.  He slowly
came to his senses and whispered, "Why do you matter so much to me?"  He
looked upon my slumbering figure, as if it would give him an answer, and
left the room as quietly as he'd come.

*****

I awoke when the sun hit my face the next morning.  I looked at my clock
and found that it was 7:30, a little early, but I knew I'd never get back
to sleep.  I begrudgingly swung my legs out of bed and went into the
bathroom.  After I'd brushed my teeth and run my hand through my hair in a
failed attempt at taming it, I went in search of coffee.

As I entered the living room, I saw Lance sitting on the couch watching TV.
"You're up early," I said, rubbing my eyes.

"I didn't sleep very well."  He looked up at me.

"Oh," I said, passing him on my way to the kitchen.

Just as I was approaching the doorway, I heard him say, "You carried me in
last night."

I chuckled.  "Yes, I'm aware," I said, turning around to face him.

He smiled.  "You didn't have to, ya know."

"Well, I didn't have the heart to wake you up.  You're so damn cute when
you're sleeping."  I grinned.  "And heavy," I mumbled as I turned around.
"I think I pulled something."  I rubbed my left shoulder as I walked into
the kitchen.

"You should have woken me up," he scolded as he followed me into the
kitchen.  "Here," he came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders,
"let me work it out."

I slowly took my hand off my shoulder, and succumbed to Lance's offering.
I was a bit tense at first.  It was strange feeling hands touching me that
didn't belong to Jason, but I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind.
My body began to move back and forth as Lance's strong hands successfully
worked out the kinks that had settled into my shoulders.  An involuntary
moan of satisfaction escaped my lips.  It was as if I was under some sort
of spell.

Lance's mind was reeling.  He'd never given anyone a massage in his life.
What made him suddenly offer one to me?  But, he enjoyed the feeling this
created.  Every time his hands would rub another circle into my neck, a
wave of electricity would flow from me, through him.  When his hands came
in contact with my shoulders, he lost every sense of reality he had known
before.  It was as if he were under some sort of spell.

The phone rang.

Lance's hands stopped, but they lingered there on my shoulders.  I made no
attempt to move, and neither did he.  But, the phone's ring became
increasingly insistent.  Lance's hands slipped down my shoulders to the
small of my back.  And as he turned away from me, to answer to phone, I
suddenly felt that I had lost something that I badly wanted.  I shuddered a
little, then grabbed desperately for the coffee which would inevitably calm
my nerves.

"He . . .hel . . ." Lance cleared his throat in an attempt to make his
mouth function properly.  "Hello?" he said into the phone.

"Hey, Scoop.  It's Just.  Was just callin' to see if you guys wanted to
play some ball.  It ain't often we get time off.  And besides, figured it
be a good chance to hang with Luke a little.  What d'ya say?"

Lance groaned a little.  He loved spending time with his friends, but he
was horrible at basketball.  But Lance thought that it would be a good
chance for me to get to know the guys a little more.  He turned to me,
"Luke," his voice was a little raspy again, "Justin wants to know if we're
up for some ball.  You in?"

I blinked a few times before I said, "Yeah, sure.  I love basketball."  I
smiled.

Lance turned back to the phone, "Ye . . .yeah Just, we're in.  Just give us
a time and place, and we're there."

"Cool," Justin said, "we're gonna play at the court in the park around
noon.  Okay?"

"Sure, man.  We'll be there.  See ya, Justin."

"See ya, buddy."

*****

At noon, we pulled up to the park.  As we got out of the car, Lance and I
could see that the rest of the guys were playing around a little while they
waited for us. As we were walking towards them Lance muttered, "God, I hate
basketball."

"What? Why?" I asked, confused.

"Because I suck at it.  I'm terrible."

"Aw, that's not a good attitude.  You still have fun don'tcha?"

"Well, yeah.  That's why I'm here.  But mark my words, I'll get picked
last."  Lance nodded as we approached the guys.

"Hey guys," Joey said as he cuffed me on the shoulder.

"We were beginning to get worried about you guys," JC said.

"No we weren't," Justin grinned.

"Oh, shut up, Curly," Lance kidded.

I looked at my watch.  "But it's only just noon.  You guys were early."

"Noon?  We said 11:30," Joey stated.

Lance glared at Justin.  "Peroxide-head over there told us noon."

We all looked to Justin.  He shrugged helplessly.  "It was 7:30 in the
morning.  For Christ's sake, you're lucky that I was conscious."

"Oh, I wouldn't exactly call it lucky, Curly."  I grinned and tousled his
hair.

"Hey!!" Justin screeched as he made a grab for me.  I laughed as I dodged
his attempt.

JC laughed, "All right you two, let's get on with it.  Justin's the captain
of one team, like always, and I think Luke should be the other captain,
considering he's our guest and all.  What do you guys think?"

Everyone nodded.  JC, Chris (who had been silent thus far), Joey, and Lance
all lined up in front of me and Justin.  "Okay," Justin said, "you pick
first, Luke."

I pretended to scrutinize the guys.  I put my thumb and forefinger to my
chin, the whole bit.  Finally, I stopped pacing and said, "I choose Lance."
I grinned widely.  Lance eyed me cautiously, and then broke out in a huge
smile.  He stepped beside me, blushing a little.  Justin then picked Joey,
and Chris, and I picked JC.

After we got all set up, we started to play.  I got basket after basket, as
did Justin, who was playing really hard.  JC, Joey, and Chris weren't that
bed either.  But Lance was really horrible.  The three times he got the
ball, he threw bricks.  I didn't think it was possible to be that bad at
bball.  I mean, it's not like it's a hard concept.  One time, though, I saw
that Lance was wide open and right under the net, Justin's team didn't even
bother blocking him.  So I got his attention by waving my hands over my
head, and I bounce-passed him the ball.  He caught it, but didn't know what
to do with it.

"Shoot it," I screamed.  "Just shoot the damn thing."  He looked up at the
net, shrugged, and flung the ball into the air.  It circled the rim a few
times, teetered right on the edge, and finally fell through the net.  I ran
over to Lance, and gave him a huge hug.  "You just won the game for us,
buddy."

"I . . .I did?"  He smiled, and was nearly thrown to the ground when I
smashed into him.

"Yeah, you won!"  I patted him on the back as he walked, beaming, to the
bench to sit with the other guys.  I turned around to get the ball, and I
saw Justin bent over, with his hands on his knees, and looking like he was
out of breath.  "Tired, kid?" I asked as I picked up the ball.

"I'm just real dizzy all of a sudden," he said as he tried to catch his
breath.

"You play too hard?"  I patted him on the back, and he stumbled forward.
"Hey, you all right, Justin?"

"Nah, man.  I've got a killer headache, and I'm shaking.  I think I should
sit."  I helped him sit on the ground and I knelt beside him.

"Oh man," I whispered.  "You have a headache, you're dizzy, and you're
shaking?"  He nodded.  By this time, all the guys had run up and were
circling us.

"What's wrong with Justin?" someone asked.

"I don't know, what's wrong man?" shot out another one.

"Just . . ."

"Justin . . ."

"Hey, Just you all right . . ."

"What's wrong, Just . . ."

"Just, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong>"

"What's wrong?"

"How much have you eaten today?"  I asked Justin over the noise.

"Nothin' man, why?"

I looked at my watch and read 3:30.  "Christ," I whispered to myself.
"He's having a blood sugar attack," I said loudly to the guys.  "Someone,
go get him some candy."

"But how do you know, Luke?"

"I just do," I said quietly.

"How do you know?"

"I just do," I yelled as I turned around and glared at them all.  "Candy,"
I ordered.  No one moved.  "GO!!!"  When I screamed the last time, JC and
Joey ran off to the nearest gas station to get the candy.  I sat on my
knees, and let Justin lie on them and use them as a pillow.  He was
breathing heavier, and his forehead was crinkled up in pain.  Lance and
Chris were standing off to the side, wild eyed and frightened.

In a few minutes, JC and Joey returned, their hands overflowing with candy.
I smiled at their surplus efforts, knowing that it sprung from a love for
their friend.  I sorted through the candy that they had dumped on the
ground, and I picked up a Snickers.  I unwrapped it, and handed it to
Justin, who obediently started eating it.

"Take your time, man" I whispered as I rubbed his temples to ease his
headache.  "Don't force yourself."  As he finished the candy bar, I asked,
"How you feelin' now, Just?"

"A lot better," he smiled as he sat up.  "Still a little fragile.  My head
still hurts."

"Yeah," I said, "Those don't go away until you fall asleep."  I helped
Justin over to the bench.  The other guys sat there with him, and I sat on
the ground in front of them.  I took several deep breaths.  That experience
had scared me more than I thought it should have.

"Um . . .Luke . . ." JC said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"  I looked up at him.

"How did you . . .I mean . . .how did you know what was wrong with Justin?"
His voice was very soft.  It was as if he could sense the answer would be a
painful one for me.

"Well," I took another deep breath, "my father used to have blood sugar
attacks all the time."  I looked up at the guys to find they were all
looking at me.  I sighed.  "My mother and I just figured that he was
hypoglycemic, too much insulin," I explained, "so he was never tested or
anything.  We just always had candy around.  Well, not getting him tested
turned out to be a big mistake."  I stopped for a second so I could gather
myself and continue.  "One day," my voice was shaking, " we were both at
home, my mother was at work, and he had a blood sugar attack.  I didn't
call my mom because he had them all the time, I just went into the kitchen
and got him some candy.  When I came back, he was on the floor, hunched
over, so I knew it was a bad one.  But I still didn't panic.  I just got
down on the floor with him, and gave him the candy.  He leaned against me
as he ate it, but he seemed to be getting worse instead of better.  I was
just about to call my mom, when he went into convulsions.  I put my arms
around him, because I didn't know what else to do.  I didn't want to leave
him there to go and call someone.  So I just sat there with him in my arms.
Eventually, he lay still.  He died right there in my arms."  I didn't cry.
I just looked down to the ground.

Chris cleared his throat and quietly said, "What happened?"

I looked up at him. The corners of my mouth turned up ever so slightly as I
realized he cared enough about me to ask that question.  "He had tumors on
his pancreas.  We didn't know that until later though.  He went into
insulin shock, and died."  I sat there in silence for a few moments.  "So,
I guess that's why I got so excited before.  I guess I went into `rescue
mode'."  I smiled weakly.  "Sorry," I said.

"No, don't be sorry," Joey said.  "None of us would've known what to do."

Everyone nodded.  Justin said, "Yeah man, I'm *really* glad you were
there."  He grinned.

"Yeah, well . . ." I blushed a little.  "Now, mister," I said pointing at
Justin, "you need to go home and get some rest.  You may feel fine, but
your body needs to recuperate.  So go," I pointed towards the car.  He
opened his mouth to protest, but I stopped him.  "JC," I said, "take him
home."

JC grinned.  "Yes, sir."  He stood up, clicked his heels together, and
saluted me.

"Oh, just get out of here," I laughed.

JC, Joey, and Chris helped Justin to the car, and drove off.  Lance and I
walked to my car, and started back to his house.  On the way back, Lance
was very quiet.  When I looked to him, I could see that he was struggling
with something, but didn't want to say anything.  I smiled, "Just spit it
out, will ya?  The suspense is killing me."

He looked over at me and smiled.  Our eyes locked for a brief moment before
I remembered I was driving and had to look to make sure I was still on the
road.  "It's gonna sound corny," he said.

"That's all right, I like corn," I said, chuckling at my lame joke.

"Well," he took a breath, "I just wish . . .I don't know.  You just seem to
have had a hard life.  I just wish that it could have been easier for you."

We stopped at a red light, and I looked over to him.  The look on his face
told me that he really meant it.  "That means a lot to me."  I sighed to
myself as I pulled away from the light.  I remembered something.  Lance
still didn't know about Jason abusing me.  Why hadn't I told him?  He
wished my life had been easier.  `You don't even know,' I thought to
myself.

We arrived at his house, and went in.  It was still pretty early, around
5:00.  When I finished my shower, I came in the living room and saw Lance
sitting on the couch watching TV.  He was freshly showered, and his hair
was still wet.  I sat on the couch, with my leg underneath me, and angled
myself towards him.  I reached for the remote, and clicked the TV off.
"Lance, I want to talk about something."

"Sure," he said as he, likewise, angled himself towards me with a look of
concern in his eyes.

"It's nothing major," I said.  "I just wanted to . . .to thank you for
putting up with me.  I've had a tough couple of days.  But, you were there
every time.  At the auditorium.  On the beach.  In the car.  Just, thanks."

Lance nodded and smiled.  "No problem."

"Oh, and I wanted to apologize for running out on you in the bathroom
yesterday.  I was just . . .a little crazy.  I'm all right now, though."

"We all need to be a little crazy sometimes.  I understand."  Lance smiled.
He didn't understand everything, but he didn't know that.

We ordered pizza, and he popped in a movie.  As the images flickered across
the screen, it was hard to keep from laughing at Lance.  He would cheer
when something good happened, and would yell at the screen when one of the
bad guys came on.  He was acting like a little kid.  I couldn't help but
think he was adorable, though.

`Gosh,' I thought to myself, `do I really like him?  This is Lance Bass.
Lance Bass of N Sync.  It's completely unrealistic to like him.'  I sat
there for a moment and looked at him.  `But you do don't you?  Of course.'
I lightly sighed to myself and looked back to the TV screen.

Lance looked over to me.  My face was illuminated by the glow from the
movie.  He thought back to that morning in the kitchen.  Something had
happened.  Some switch had been flipped when he had been rubbing my
shoulders.  Some switch that made him see me in a different way.  But what
way?  What was different?  What changed.  He didn't know.  He jumped a bit
when I looked at him.

"Sorry," I laughed.  "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, it's all right," he yawned.

It was only around 8:00, and he was tired.  I don't mean to sound parental
or anything, but his sleeping patterns were beginning to worry me.  "So,
what did you think of the movie?" I asked.

"Oh," he looked towards the now blank screen, "I liked it."  He hadn't even
seen the end of it.  He'd been too busy looking at me.

I smiled and got up to get myself a drink.  As I came back into the dark
living room, I saw that Lance had fallen asleep.  I smiled.  "You've got to
start falling asleep in more convenient places," I said.  I bent over to
pick him up, when a movement in the corner of the room caught my eye.  I
looked up, startled, and when I did, my eyes grew wide as all the air
escaped from my lungs.  Jason was standing in the corner of Lance's living
room, and judging by the familiar blear in his eye, he was drunk.

To Be Continued . . .

I just love typing those words.  All right, so another one finished.  Any
and all comments are appreciated and STRONGLY encouraged (giggles) no
pressure or anything.  Just e-mail me at Lauren2993@aol.com.  I'd love to
hear from you, and your suggestions/comments on how I'm doing.  I love you
all -Lauren