Date: Fri, 11 May 2001 11:34:02 -0700 (PDT) From: Mighty Aphrodite Subject: Small Sacrifices IV Small Sacrifices Disclaimer: Completely fictitious. Rating: NC-17 for content, including violence. Website: Like to know when I update this story as well as my other stories, visit http://www.friendsnlovers.cjb.net to subscribe to the site's mailing list. Author's Notes: I have received little to no feedback on this story. Does this story not appeal to many people? Let me know because I can change things very fast. Unless you are a writer, you probably will not understand how important it is to receive feedback. I thrive on feedback. So, please give some feedback. Join NSAngst at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NSAngst/ for angst driven stories like "Small Sacrifices". Feedback: nsaphrodite@yahoo.com Small Sacrifices IV "Hey, Justin." It was Lance. "JC is right here next to me." Lance said, tossing back JC's phone to its rightful owner. "Hi, Justin." JC said into the phone only to have the phone disconnected. That's odd. JC thought. "What's wrong, JC?" Lance, always so observant, asked. "I don't know. The phone got disconnected." JC explained, running his hand through his dark locks. "Maybe the battery ran out." Joey offered an explanation. "Yeah. Joey's right. I'm sure he'll call right back." Chris added. JC nodded. He got up from their table and made his way back to his table to join Johnny. Upon his arrival, Johnny flashed him a smile. JC sat down for no more than 30 seconds before the phone in his jacket started to ring rigorously. His four friends at the table next to him all smiled back at him as he answered the phone. "Hello." JC greeted. "What is gold and blue?" An unfamiliar voiced answered with a mind-bobbling question. "Pardon me." "Maybe you need a little hint." Jake removed his hand from the mouthpiece and approached the chaotic scene further into the warehouse. "The answer is Hollywood's Golden Boy. Call back if you want to see him alive, again." The phone slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the carpeted floor. JC closed his eyes and clenched his fist. Anger consumed his entire being as he retrieved the phone, again, but it was too late. Jake had ended his phone call, but not before letting JC hear Justin's faint cries in the background. "Please, go away." He heard him begged once. "Please, don't touch me." Another one of his cries. "Keep your hands off me." Yet another. "NO!!!" He heard him scream. "No, please, don't." He heard the ripping of some fabric. And then the phone slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the carpeted floor. JC closed his eyes and clenched his fist. Anger consumed his entire being as he retrieved the phone, again, but it was too late. "Who was that?" Johnny leaned over toward JC, squeezing his arm in a comforting gesture. JC turned to look at his manager. Trying to fight off the trembles, he spoke as calmly as he could. "Nothing. Nothing." He said, taking another sip of fine wine. "Good. Because the evening is about to start." Johnny said, toasting his client. "Thanks." JC mumbled as he sunk into his seat. His eyes transfixed on the sparkling champagne in his glass. So beautiful. So intoxicating. As was Justin. Why couldn't he just forget about him for one night? Why couldn't he just enjoy himself for one night without being haunted by Justin's angelic face? A record executive sat down besides him. He extended his hand in an attempt to introduce himself. JC failed to notice the burly man. His presence remained oblivious to JC until Chris stretched his body from the nearby table to break his reverie. "Oh. Hi. I'm so sorry." JC apologized, taking the older man's hand and shaking it vigorously. "It's okay. Something on your mind, son?" Richard Crawford asked. "No. Nothing. I'm just a little nervous about tonight." JC lied through clenched teeth as he buried his fingernails into the soft cushion of his seat. "Don't be, son. You'll blow them away." Richard Crawford assured. Richard Crawford proceeded to sell himself and his record company to JC, offering him a ludicrous deal that would make him a multi-millionaire by the time he was 30. He explained in details what his company was all about. The musicians. They would foster their artists, help them succeed in every way possible. The company sounded promising and Richard Crawford seemed like a genuine man, but everything from that big mouth of his was nothing more than gibberish. JC nodded occasionally as he sipped his champagne. It was so routine for him to just nod, take a drink, and smile. After Richard Crawford left, others would occupy his vacant seat and offer him some more deals. All to which, JC would nod, take a drink, and smile. The show began and the classy crowd erupted in cheers as they welcomed the President of the American Cancer Association. All except for JC, who was so deep in his thoughts that he failed to hear his own name being announced as one of the many performers that night. "JC, what's wrong?" Johnny leaned over to check on his client. "Um...nothing. I have to go to the restroom." JC said, quickly. "Okay, but you'll be on in half an hour." Johnny reminded him. "I won't be long." JC assured Johnny before darting for the restroom. With the phone clutched in his hand, he ran. He ran until he reached the restroom. He pushed opened the restroom and chased out all the patrons inside. Once cleared of any human existence, JC closed the door. He collapsed onto the couch inside the restroom. He pulled his legs to his knees and rocked his body. In a desperate attempt to get Justin off his mind, he began to whistle a tune in his head- the tune to the song he wrote earlier. But the attempt was futile as the tune in his head reverberated into a melodious mixture of cries and screams- Justin's voices called for him. And the excruciatingly painful beating of his heart as visions of Justin being tortured flooded his mind forced an irrepressible cry of anguish slip past his lips as he ripped the tie from his neck. Settling between his legs, he hung his head low. His head turned momentarily and his eyes rested on his cell phone on the bench. To not call was to save his career. To call was to save Justin. It was as simple as black and white. How JC wished for grey in the canvas picture. Taking a deep breath to compose himself more than anything else he picked up his phone. "Hello, again." Jake greeted JC. "Cut the crap. Why do you have Justin? Let him go." JC said, sternly. "Fuck you! You have no right to talk to me like that. I'm the one in control here. You don't want me to take it out on the boy, do you?" "No." JC swallowed hard as his pride was tainted. "I'm sorry." "Much better. Now, let's cut to the chase. You have exactly twenty-five minutes to get $1,000,000 dollars and bring it to the empty warehouse on Waterloo Lane." The man explained his demand. "Where in the fuckin' world am I going to get $1,000,000 in such short notice?" "I heard there's a charity gala for you fuckin' ungrateful hot shots. Take the money and get to the warehouse in twenty five minutes or else..." "Or else what?" "Let's just say that I have with me seven men who haven't gotten laid in over a week. And the Hollywood Golden boy is just so damn fuckable. Just looking at him makes me want to do things nasty things to him, right, baby?" Jake held the phone to Justin's mouth. "Don't listen to him, Josh! He's just bluffing!" Justin screamed into the phone in a pleading voice. "Don't come here, Josh. Don't steal the money. You have to perform tonight, remember? Don't ruin your career. You have this chance once. Don't do it." "I can't, baby. I can't let them hurt you." JC cried for first time since the longest time he could remember. "I can't." "Josh, please. Don't do it." Justin pleaded once more before Jake yanked the phone from him. "Awww...what a touching moment? I'll make the sacrifice for you. No, I will sacrifice myself. You make me fuckin' sick." Jake scorned. "Again, if you don't show up here at the warehouse in twenty five minutes with $1,000,000, me and my boys will ravish your fuck toy and rip out his insides to hang him from the ceiling with. Got it?! And don't bring anyone with you or your fuck toy will be so fucked up you won't be able to recognize his pretty twisted little body." The conversation abruptly ended after Jake had laid out his demands. JC turned off his phone. He rested his head in his hands. Getting up, he paced back and forth. He hit his headed repeatedly on the wall. Why? Why was this so hard? He had all the information he needed. This psycho wanted $1,000,000. And he wanted JC to meet at an empty warehouse on Waterloo Lane. Why couldn't he just do it? Why was he even hesitating at all? Was his career, his music, his life more valuable to him than Justin's safety? Would he allow Justin to sacrifice himself just so he could sing to breathe? Locked heavily in his thoughts, he failed to notice Johnny entering the restroom. "The first act is on stage now." Johnny informed him. True. JC could hear the roars from the crowd erupted. He could hear the faint music in the background and the powerful voice of the female singer. Still, the fierce pounding of heart drowned all other noises. "I can't perform tonight." JC told his manager, regretfully. "What?!" Johnny was outraged as usual. "Give me one good reason why you'd sacrifice all that you have worked for." "Justin." His lover's sweet name slipped so easily off his tongue. "He's everything to me." "This is insane!" Johnny continued to raise his voice. Didn't he know that he couldn't do anything to change his mind? "So, you're going to throw everything away just like that?" "No. I'm not throwing everything away just like that. I'm doing this for Justin." "Look, JC." Johnny sat down beside his younger client. "I love Justin as much as the next guy, too, but this is your chance. You might not get another chance like this." "Ever since I joined the Mickey Mouse Club, I harbored dreams of becoming a singer. I waited for nine years for this chance. But I've waited all my life for Justin." JC explained to his manager. "JC. Heartthrobs are a dime a dozen. When you become rich and famous, you can have any heartthrob you want. You can go through them like toilet paper." "But there'll only be one Justin Timberlake." "This is insane!" Johnny threw up his hands in defeat. JC smiled weakly, thanking his manager for all the work he had done for him. He got up and headed for the door when Johnny approached him from behind. He turned around and met up with Johnny's fist in his stomach. JC doubled over, landing hard onto the floor. "I will not let you ruin this chance. I worked too hard for this chance. I invested too much in this. You are going to perform tonight." Johnny threatened. "Justin's just going to have to suffer." JC pushed himself off the ground. He pushed against the wall for support. "No." He retaliated. He closed his eyes in anticipation of another fist to his body, but there was none. Lonnie had entered the bathroom and intercepted Johnny's path to his chest. "What's going on here, JC?" Lonnie asked. "Mr. Wright over here thinks that I should sacrifice Justin to the wolves." JC answered. "Is that so?" Lonnie brought his fist up to Johnny's face. "You dare lay a finger on me, I'll fire your ass so fast-" "Ha! Ha!" Lonnie spat on his face. "That was over a year ago. I don't work for you anymore, you conniving son of a bitch-" Lonnie raised his fist, ready to strike Johnny when JC intervened. "Don't hurt him. You'll only get yourself in trouble." JC said. "Give me your gun." "What?" "I know you keep it with you still. Now give me your gun." JC demanded once more. "Why do you need a gun, boy?" Lonnie questioned him. "Is Justin in danger? If my boy is, I think I should come along." "No, Lonnie." JC smiled, patting him on his arm. "You can't come along. What you can do for me though is give me your gun and contain Mr. Wright here in one of those lovely freshly scrubbed stalls." "Will Justin be alright?" Lonnie asked. It was evident that he was still concern over his guard. "Yes." JC tried his best to keep his voice steady. "Will you be alright, buddy?" "So long as Justin is, I'll be fine." JC answered, shaking Lonnie's hand. "Thank you for all that you have done for my angel. Now, it's my turn." copyright Aphrodite for Friends & Lovers Site nsaphrodite@yahoo.com