This is yet another story about those hunky boys of the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync written by a straight woman. Therefore, please excuse my writings if they appear to be a bit screwed due to my lack of knowledge. This story is a work of FICTION (note the term FICTION- I can't stress this enough) and is purely written for the sole purpose of entertainment and enjoyment. Yes! Entertainment. That's all... think of it like a movie. You watch for entertainment and you read for entertainment. These events did not happen to the best of my knowledge and therefore actions taken in this story do not reflect the true nature of the characters involved. This story does not imply anything about the sexuality of the person(s) involved. And if you're an underage teenie or do not wish to read about male/male sexual relationships, this is now the time to shut your lap-top as there will be sexual explicit scenes throughout. Proceed with your own risk. Enough with the warnings, now on with the story.

"I guess he won't be coming." Chris said, shaking his head in disappointment, when he was struck with the sadness in the eyes of a moping Lance Bass. "I swear he'd better by lying on some street corner hit by some car."

"Calm down, Chris." His girlfriend, Danielle tried soothe him down.

"Calm down?! Look at what he has done to poor Lancey-poo here. Didn't you get a hold of him?" Chris shrieked.

"Don't lash out on me, Chris!" Dani crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Dani." Chris said, wrapping his arms around her. "Please, forgive me. It's just the kid gives me a headache sometimes."

"Understand. Just don't yell at me like that anymore, especially in front of your friends."

"I won't. I promise. No more sudden outbursts like that anymore." Chris said, turning to Lance and Joey, "Ready?"

"C'mon, Lance. We'll miss the show." Joey proceeded to drag Lance out of the Hollywood mansion Chris and Dani shared.

"Can't we just wait for another minute." Lance pleaded with his jaded eyes, misted over with tears.

"You said that an hour ago." Joey said. "Now, let's go. He isn't coming. Just forget about him."

"But-"

"No, buts, Lance. Are you coming or not?" Joey said one last time.

Lance stared outside blankly at the moving cars passing them by. There was no sign of Justin whatsoever. He had promised him to help celebrate his milestone and now had broken his promise to his friend. He was liar. Lance reluctantly agreed to get into the car, where JC waited patiently for everyone. One look in JC's direction and Lance knew that he was hurting as well. He, too, had been expecting Justin to come back on this day. He, too, harbored hopes of seeing him, again. Now any grains of hope of seeing their bandmate- perished.

He screamed out of the top of his lungs. His hands raised to shield his face. Even in death, you have to look good now. He was ready to meet his inevitable end when the car suddenly halted right in front of him. The timing was too perfect. A man cloaked in a dark trench coat stepped out of the car. Justin crawled to him, begging him to rescue him when he recognized the face of the mysterious tall, dark, and handsome stranger.

"Kevin?"

"Get in the car and do what I say." Kevin told Justin.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. And I certainly ain't providing any sexual favors."

"That's a surprise."

Justin looked up at Kevin with a bewildered face.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean." Kevin said. "You're a fuckin' whore, Justin. Don't deny it. You are. You let everyone fuck you. Lou. Brian. Who's next? Carson? Even JC."

"Fuck you, Kevin!" Justin yelled. "I didn't let him fuck me. He, he-" Justin was unable to finish what he had started. Tears resurfaced on his face as he recalled the night his best friend raped him. It was a night he had long repressed, but with Kevin's excruciatingly painful comments, Justin was now in tears. "I didn't let him fuck me." He kept repeating.

"Please. Tell it to someone who cares." Kevin responded to the crying boy lying on the filthy street. "Are you coming or not?"

When Justin gave no response other than burying his face in his unsanitary hands, something Justin would never do in a million years, Kevin approached him. He kneeled down before the boy.

"Look, I always wondered what happens when drunken bastards attack. You hit their leader- quite possibly killed the man."

"The bastard deserved it."

"Now, there's no need for such foul language. You remember what happened earlier, right? Like I was saying, you can come with me and do whatever I tell you, or you can lie on this filthy street and wait for them. I'll tell you this much. Your death if you choose to remain here on the streets will be a prolonged torturous one. They're not like you and I. They're not civilized people. They're animals. They'll tear you apart. They'll rip out your insides. They'll break every bone in your body until you start to leak blood out of every pore in your body. And Justin, you won't get to keep that face of yours either. Imagine the pictures People Magazine will print. It won't be a pretty picture."

Kevin's technique of persuasion did little help. Justin remained stationary on the filthy streets, but when the footsteps suddenly picked up pace, again, Justin swallowed his pride and asked Kevin to help him off the ground. Kevin agreed. He scooped up the boy in his arms and carried him to the parked car. Once settled, they took on a ride that had far too many possibilities.

Well sculpted multiple sets of pectorals flexed before him. Clothes seductively stripped on stage. Booty shakin' and the boys of `Nsync just got paid with a day off to celebrate Lance's milestone 21^st birthday. However, despite the hard bodies rubbing against each other erotically on stage, neither JC or Lance took notice of the Chip'n'Dales troop performing their acclaimed strip show. In fact, Joey had to point out that one of them had an erection when Lance was always quick to notice these kinds of things (remember last year's TRL Grammys). Even Lance's favorite drink of Tonic was just a bland mixture of alcoholic beverages. In no time, he had found himself nauseated from his fourth glass of Tonic.

"Another one, please!" Lance hollered at the waiter dressed in nothing more than tight shorts and a cute little bow tie.

JC noticed Lance's binge drinking and being overly obsessed with the need to be in control of not only his life, his music, but also the lives of others around him, JC vaulted out of his seat, stretched across a bored Chris to intercept the waiter's agilely pass to Lance. As smooth as JC had planned this move in his mind, the outcome was nothing but. The glass slipped past JC's slender fingers, deflected off the waiter hard pectorals, and fumbled onto Lance's pants.

"JC!" Lance shot up, taking the older man to his feet.

"Lance, I'm so sorry." JC kept repeating, hoping to ease the tension between him and Lance. "Please, forgive me."

Lance answered JC's puppy eyes' plea with a punch in his jaw, splitting open his upper lips. Lance, never a believer of violence, had just socked his best friend in the jaw. He shook his head and darted across the club for the comfort of the public restroom. There was nothing more comforting than the cold wet filthy floor of a public men's restroom as Lance leaned against the wall plagued with obscene words amidst other bodily secretions.

Within minutes the door swung opened and JC waltzed inside. He shook his head at the sight of Lance crying uncontrollably on the filthy floor of the public men's restroom.

"What the hell are you here for?!" Lance shrieked.

"To check up on you, of course." JC answered, trying to elaborate when Lance interrupted him.

"Don't. You can control Justin like a puppet, telling him when to sleep, when to wake, with whom to sleep with, but not me. I won't allow you to control me just because you don't have Justin to pull on his strings anymore." Lance cried out, his fists clenched as tears rolled down his flawless, even-toned, beautifully groomed face.

"Lance, c'mon." JC tried to put his arms around the boy, only to be kicked in the groin by his younger bandmate. "I know you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk! I'm not! I'm not!" Lance stomped his feet. "I can control my drinking habits. You should talk to Joey about that."

"You are drunk, Lance. Let me help you." JC offered his hand, again.

"Don't touch me!" Lance slapped off JC's projecting hand. "And for the last time, I am not drunk!" Lance shrieked before emptying out of the contents of his gastrointestinal tract all over JC. "Okay, maybe just a little, but I can still control my drinking. I can stop whenever I can."

"Is now a good time to stop, Scoop?" JC asked, rubbing Lance's back.

"Now is a good time to stop." Lance replied.

With that response, JC helped Lance up the sink. He placed him on one sink and ran water into another. He dumped a large piece of paper towel in the water until it was completely soaked. Taking the wet towel, he began to clean boy of his own vomit.

"Thanks." Lance whispered as JC gently ran the lukewarm towel all over his face and neck.

"You're welcome." JC said as he continued to stroke the smooth skin. "Tell me something, Scoop."

"Yeah."

"Why did you drink so much? I've never seen you this out of control. Is something bothering you?" JC asked.

"Same thing that's been weighing on your mind." Lance replied simply as JC ran some more water into the sink.

"Huh."

"I just miss Justin." Lance said, refusing another cleansing. He pushed past JC and sat down on the floor, resting his head against the soiled restroom wall. "I was really looking forward to seeing Justin, again. How can he not come to my birthday party? Do I mean nothing to him? I feel like I lost my best friend, again, like I lost Toby."

"Lance." JC said, sitting next to Lance. He took the boy in his arms and rubbed his back. "You have me. I'm your best friend, too."

"You are?"

"Yes." JC said, looking into those emeralds. "And as your best friend, I'm going to take you home. You look like a mess."

"Thank you, JC."

Silence consumed them as they sat quietly in their respective seats. The romantic hit, "The One You Loved" began playing softly on the radio.

Someone's going to thank the sky above.

Suddenly, Justin was drowned in guilt. His thoughts began to wander about his boyfriend back at the country estate. Brian must be devastated and heart-broken by his refusal to stay. He could see Brian's tearful eyes staring down at him, shaking his head in disappointment. He could hear Brian's cries being carried in the wind across the town. Still, he believed he had done nothing wrong. He was merely going to celebrate his best friend's 21st birthday. As soon as the gala was over, he would hop the next plane back to Kentucky.

Lost in his trance, Justin didn't seem to notice the music of the Eagles being played on the radio non-stop. As one song ended, another one began. Although not much of a fan of the Eagles, Justin was able to appreciate talent when he heard it. He turned his gaze from the door handle to Kevin in the driver's seat. Kevin stared at the world of uncertainty before him. How this night reminisced the night he and Brian had driven Justin back to JC. The only difference this night presented was the lack of Brian's presence. Kevin kept his focus on the road ahead of him. Never once did he look sideways to the sleeping boy by him until Justin accidentally collapsed on top of the brakes, sending the car off the road. Kevin quickly brought the car back onto the road. He was furious. He wanted so much to slap Justin in the face or better yet, toss him into some dark alley where the chances of him being raped and left for dead was as high as him winning next year's annual Hottest Teen award. He raised his hand to which Justin innately covered his face with his hands. Kevin returned his hand to the steering wheel and continued driving into the night.

He could hear soft sniffles coming from the passenger seat. Justin had been quiet throughout the ride, but suddenly he couldn't keep the sobs to himself. Kevin reluctantly pulled over. He turned to look into Justin's eyes. Indeed, he was crying.

"Look, kid. If you don't stop crying, people will start to think I'm actually abusing you(hey, that's what I told him)." Kevin said, sarcastically.

"I want to go home." Justin whimpered. "Please, Kevin, take me back. I want to see my friends. You see Brian all the time. You see Howie and everyone else while I'm stuck here all by myself with no friends."

"Brian's your boyfriend. And you have Ted. Howie's very fond of you." Kevin explained. "You even have me."

"It's not the same. You always yell at me for no reason whatsoever as if making me feel bad is your number one hobby. Howie can't keep his hands to himself. And Ted-" Justin sighed in a disappointment. "Never mind. Take me wherever you wish."

As much as Kevin hated Justin, he hated seeing him cry more. Normally, seeing the boy cry gave Kevin celestial highs he, himself, was unable to comprehend. But tonight, it was different. He actually heard voices in his head- voices from his conscience, perhaps. Kevin didn't know for sure, but these voices soften Kevin's heart. To cease the crying, he decided to offer Justin a deal he couldn't refuse.

"Okay. I have this jet. I can take you to Mississippi to see Lance. But once you see him, we get back right away."

"Thank you. Thank you." Justin jumped up in his seat overwhelmed with excitement that the pain from hitting the car was nothing more than a protrusion on his head.