Date: Thu, 29 Nov 2001 12:19:32 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: jc's hitchhiker - part 24

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You
shouldn't be here.

2) I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no
way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or
anything else.  This is a work of pure fiction.

Sorry for the longer than usual gap between chapters. Things got busy here.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I've
enjoyed hearing from all of you.

So, on with Season 2 of the story.

***

I stared at the greeting card, wondering if I should open it. What if there
were more clippings in it? What if there was something worse? What if Josh
woke up and saw me standing there with it? Spurred by that last thought, I
ran into the second bedroom and stuffed it into my suitcase with the last
note. I know I had promised myself that I would show it to Josh as soon as
the time was right, but waking him up while we were both naked and covered
with dried body paint didn't really seem like the right time.

Speaking of time, a glance at the clock told me that I was due to meet
Chris for our morning jog in under five minutes.

And I was naked and covered in dried paint.

Crap!

I sprinted into the bathroom and quickly scrubbed the paint off my arms,
face, and neck.  True to the label, it came right off with a wet washcloth,
more or less. I pulled on a pair of Josh's wind pants to cover my legs, a
t-shirt, and a cap to cover my still streaked hair, and bolted from the
apartment, hearing Josh shifting in the bed behind me.

"Jack?" he called groggily from the bedroom.

"Go back to sleep," I called back from the doorway. "I'm going for my run.
Love you!"

"Love you, too," he mumbled.

As I ran down the stairs, I almost tripped as I watched not one but two
models come walking out of Chris's apartment, followed by him. Not only
were they not Vlada or Chloe, they were identical, and they had both of
Chris's arms linked through theirs as he walked between them out to the
parking lot, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. I heard the cab door
slam, and then Chris walked back into the courtyard as I did my stretches.

"Morning," Chris mumbled, dropping down beside me.

"Morning," I answered. "I like the cigarette. Very healthy."

"You're one to talk," Chris said, stretching. "Are you sure you should be
running with a hangover?"

"How do you know if I have a hangover or not?" I asked, not denying it.

"I know that the Nsync Kinky Lovin' Kit came with two bottles of
champagne," Chris said.

"What makes you think Josh and I did anything with that sleazy collection
of dirty toys you left on our table?" I asked, smirking as we stood and
jogged out of the courtyard.

"Well, for starters I still have that bedroom below yours, although I think
I'm going to move into the other one," Chris answered. "And it certainly
sounded like you were having lots of fun last night."

"I admit nothing," I giggled, blushing.

"You don't have to," Chris said. "Right behind your ear, your neck is kind
of blue."

"No comment," I said, still grinning.

Despite the easy humor I was beginning to fall into with Chris, I was still
distracted by the cards. I needed to tell Josh about them, because it would
eventually involve us both, but I kept telling myself that it wasn't a good
time, because Josh had gone through such a bad couple of days, and I didn't
want to upset him again right away. I wanted to give him some time to
settle down, but I was starting to get the feeling that whoever was sending
these cards wasn't going to give me a lot of time to think on this. The one
sent to my apartment had been arrived there maybe a week ago. In that space
of time, the sender had come here, and had located the studio.

I needed to get to the studio, and find out when that card had been dropped
off.

"Hey, you ok?" Chris asked.

I realized that I had been quiet for at least a mile.

"Actually, no," I answered. "I need a favor, Chris, and I need for you to
not ask any questions yet."

The only sound for a moment was the thumping fall of our footsteps.

"What kind of favor?" Chris asked, frowning thoughtfully.

"A personal one," I said. "Is your car still in the shop?"

"Yeah, thanks to your boyfriend, Crash Chasez," Chris said, smiling to take
some of the sting out.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, shaking my head. At least we were making jokes about
it. "Can you borrow Joey's? I need a ride to the studio, and Josh is still
carless as well."

"Sure," Chris said. "You starting a band?"

"No," I answered. "But I have to ask you something else, too. Can you take
me, and not tell Josh?"

Chris didn't answer right away, and the sound of our footfalls filled the
empty space again.

"Chris, I promise I'm not doing anything to hurt him," I began. "I can't
really explain it right now, but I'm trying to keep Josh from being hurt,
actually."

"This whatever it is that you're keeping from JC, and asking me to help you
keep, are you going to tell JC eventually?" Chris asked.

"Yes," I answered without hesitating. "Chris, I'm going to tell him, but
after the past couple of days, I want to give him some recovery time."

"It's that bad?" he asked.

"Not like you're thinking," I answered. "In the short run it's going to
upset him, but I think everything will work out ok."

I hoped Chris wouldn't ask why I thought that, because I had nothing to
base it on. As a matter of fact, I was embroidering it whole cloth from
nothing.

"When do you want to do this?" Chris asked.

"As soon as we get back?" I answered. "Unless you have, you know, something
else planned. You know, a visit with your model harem or something."

"Hey, Bambi and Candi are nice girls," Chris said. "I wouldn't have to keep
having these girls come over to distract me if these horny bastards who
live above me could manage to stop scraping their bed across the floor
every night."

"I think we should sprint the rest of the way," I suggested, smiling,
taking off and forcing Chris to follow.

When we got back to the apartment building, we were both dripping with
sweat, and as we stood catching our breath in the parking lot, hands on our
knees as we stood bent over, I noticed that Justin's car was gone.

"Hey, Jack, that your shirt?" Chris asked.

"I think so, why?" I answered.

"Because you're sweating a pretty rainbow all over it," Chris answered,
grinning.

I looked down and saw that he was right. We both burst out laughing,
looking at the smears and splotches of color faintly blossoming on the
white cotton across my chest. On that note, I left Chris, with the
agreement that we would both go shower, and whoever was ready first would
come get the other. Chris suggested we grab some lunch after we hit the
studio, and I told him I'd have to check on Josh first, but that I thought
it would be ok.

Entering the apartment, I found no sign of Josh. The bed was neatly made,
and the toys, which we had left scattered haphazardly about the living
room, were thrown back into the box, which still sat on the coffee
table. In the middle of the dining room table I found a note from Josh.

"Jack, I went to the gym with Justin. Call me when you get back. Love
Josh."

Putting the note down, I hurried through a shower, and quickly got dressed.
After I tied my shoes I called Josh's cell phone.

"Hello?" he answered, slightly out of breath.

"Hey sexy," I said.

"Hey yourself," he answered. "Are you back?"

"Yes," I answered. "You guys having fun?"

"Yeah," Josh answered.

Behind him I could hear Justin saying over and over, "Tell him I said hi!"

"Justin says hi," Josh finally said. It got a lot quieter, and I could tell
that he had walked to a quieter part of the room. "Did you have a good
run?"

"Yeah," I answered. "I have a question. Chris and I were going to go run
some errands, and maybe grab some lunch. Is that ok?"

"That's great, actually," Josh said. "Justin asked if I would go out to eat
with him. I think he misses Brit, so maybe this will cheer him up."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" I asked.

"Not as long as you don't," he answered. "Are you guys going to be back
after lunch?"

"Yeah, we should be," I said. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, and there's somewhere I want to take you later," Josh
said. "Is that ok?"

"Of course it's ok," I said. "Josh, are you all right? You sound kind of
down."

"No, no, I'm fine," he said. "I've just been thinking about some stuff."

"Are you sure?" I asked. I didn't want to push.

"Yeah, I'll be ok," he answered. "I have to get back to Justin now. He
needs a spotter."

"OK," I said. "I'll bring my phone with me, so call if you need me, ok?"

"Sure," he answered. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I said, hanging up.

Chris knocked on the door as I was hanging up. I grabbed my keys and my
phone and met him out on the walkway.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Sure," he answered, shrugging. "Give Josh the slip?"

"Don't say it like that, Chris," I said, following him to the stairs. "It's
for the best, so please, just trust me?"

Chris turned around on the stairs and faced me. He usually had an easy
going, half-smirk on his face, but right at that moment he looked deadly
serious.

"I'm going to say this now, and it's the only time I'm going to, Jack," he
began. "JC is like a brother to me. I know he's told you that, but I'm
telling you again.  He loves you, and I really do believe that you love
him, but if this turns out to hurt him, you and I are done, Jack. Are we
clear?"

"We are," I answered. "Chris, thank you for doing this, and for trusting
me.  I promise this is for the best."

"Then let's go," Chris said, turning again.

I followed him to Joey's car, and we drove over to the studio in silence.
Chris had resigned himself to helping me, but he clearly wasn't happy about
it. I swore to myself again that the only reason I was keeping this from
Josh was to check it out myself before running the risk of upsetting him
again. Turning off the car, Chris looked at me again.

"Is there anyone in particular we need to see?" he asked.

"Whoever handles the mail," I said, shrugging. "It's the best place to
start."

"OK, Secret Agent Jack," Chris said, leading the way into the building.

Chris and I checked in with security, and he led me through the studio to
an office, humming the theme from "Mission Impossible" the entire way down
the halls until I smacked him in the arm. He dropped me off in front of a
nice secretary, Stacy, and then went to go wait for me down the hall in the
bubble.

"So, how can I help you?" Stacy asked.

"My name's Jack Springer," I said, offering my hand. She shook it. "You
have me on a list somewhere, in case I get mail here."

"Right," she said, consulting a form on her desk. "All of your mail is to
go into Mr.  Chasez's box."

"Right," I said. "Do you track that mail somehow?"

"As a matter of fact, we do," she said, reaching into her desk for a
clipboard. I was really starting to like this woman. "We track all the mail
that comes to the studio, for legal reasons. You know, in case of stalkers
or hate mail or something."

"Excellent," I said, realizing that I might actually have my own stalker.
Wow, I certainly had been touched by celebrity. It would be interesting if
I weren't completely creeped out. "Josh, Mr. Chasez, picked up mail for us
yesterday, and there was a card for me in there. Do you have that on your
list?"

She put on her glasses, which had been hanging on a matronly chain around
her neck, and scanned the list.

"Yes, I have it right here," she answered. "It was brought to the studio
yesterday morning."

I noted it in my head, comparing that date to the time when Carla had
mailed the card that came to my apartment. Yesterday morning gave my
stalker about four days, maybe five, to get here if he left as soon as he
mailed the other one. He or she, actually.

"There wasn't a postmark on it, or a return address," I pointed out. "Is
there any record of who it came from?"

"Um, actually, no," she said, consulting her log again. "It was hand
delivered to the front.  Bruce might have logged whoever it was on the
visitor sheets. Check with him."

"Thank you, Stacy," I said, smiling. "Can you do me a favor? If anything
else comes for me, can you leave a note to call me immediately?"

"Sure, no problem," she answered, writing it down.

I left in search of Bruce, stopping in the bubble to tell Chris I would be
another minute.  He waved distractedly, and I peeked in to see that he was
watching some girl singing in one of the rooms. The sound wasn't on, but
she was cute enough to keep him distracted for another couple of minutes. I
silently thanked God for sending Chris some eye candy, and walked back to
the front to check with Bruce.

"Well, he didn't sign in," Bruce said.

"But it was a guy," I said. "What did he look like?"

"I don't know," Bruce said, shrugging. What was wrong with these people?
The mail lady didn't log anything and the security guard couldn't even
provide a verbal description of someone.

"Black? White? Tall?" I suggested. OK, maybe Bruce saw so many people in a
day that they all ran together. A little prompting might help.

"Um, white guy, thin but not too thin, about your age," Bruce said,
shrugging. "He had on a hat, and dark glasses, and he just kind of walked
in and left it on the desk. I asked if he wanted to sign in or leave a
message, but he said just to deliver it, and left."

I sighed, looking away from him for a second. Someone came in dressed like
the Unabomber, threw an envelope on the desk, and ran away, and it didn't
ring a single warning bell? My eyes happened upon the video camera in the
corner over the desk.

"Bruce, that camera films the lobby all day long, right?" I asked,
pointing.

"Yeah," he answered, looking at it.

"So this guy would be on the tape, right?" I asked. I should be a
detective.

"No," Bruce answered.

"No?" I asked, confused.

"No," Bruce repeated. "Unless there's something suspicious on the tape, I
pop it back in the next morning."

"So the tape from yesterday morning," I began, shoulders slumping.

"Got taped over this morning," Bruce finished.

"Damn it!" I barked, smacking the counter. "Bruce, can you do me a favor?
If this guy comes in again, can you save the tape? And call me?"

"Sure, no problem," he answered. "Friend of yours?"

"I don't think so," I said, walking away. A thought struck me, and I turned
back, feeling a blush creep up the back of my neck. "Bruce, those cameras,
are there any in the recording rooms?"

"No, why?" he asked, looking perplexed.

"Oh, no reason," I answered, heading back to the bubble to collect Chris.

"All set?" he asked. The room he'd been watching was now empty.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Everything worked out?" he asked, standing.

"Not quite," I answered. "Have a good time watching the scenery?"

"Sure did," he answered, grinning and holding up a scrap of paper. "She
gets to be Sunday for a while."

"Let's go get lunch," I sighed, giggling. "You're such a sleaze-ball."

"This from Secret Agent Double-O-69," Chris said, laughing.

"Womanizer," I said, getting in the car.

"Shirt-lifter," Chris retorted, starting the car. "McDonald's?"

"Sure," I answered. "We should get some for Joey, to thank him for letting
us borrow the car."

"Good idea," Chris said.

We grabbed our food to go, Chris guessing at what and how much Joey would
want, and brought it back to the complex. The three of us ate out in the
courtyard at one of the tables, but didn't see anyone else. Joey's car was
the only one in the parking lot.

"Where the hell is everybody?" Chris asked.

"Justin and Josh were going to lunch somewhere," I answered.

"Jackie said she had to go get scrubbed with sea salt," Joey added. I
realized again that I had never actually seen the woman, and wondered if
she really existed.

"Lance?" Chris asked.

Joey and I both shrugged.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" Chris asked.

"Josh said to keep mine open," I answered.

"I'm not doing anything," Joey answered.

"Want to catch a movie?" Chris asked.

"Or hit a strip bar?" Joey suggested, grinning.

I left the boys to plan their fun, climbing back up the stairs to the
apartment. I wasn't sure how much time I had before Josh got home, but I
wanted to open that second card, and see if maybe there was a clue as to
the sender. I had also borrowed the paper from Joey, because I wanted to
feel in touch with the world again. I also found myself growing kind of
addicted to that stupid gossip column, combing through it for mentions of
Josh. There hadn't been any since the other day.

I pulled the card out of my suitcase, wondering if I should be handling it
with my bare hands. In all the crime books I read the investigators always
said not to touch notes, because you'd get fingerprints all over them, but
I'd already handled everything that came in the first one. And I couldn't
really take this to the police anyway.  I hadn't even taken it to my
boyfriend yet. Besides, there weren't any rubber gloves in the apartment
that I knew of, and the only alternate idea I came up with was to put
condoms on my fingertips.

Somehow that didn't strike me as a good idea.

Shrugging, I carefully tore open the envelope. Inside was another cheap
card, and I inwardly wondered why my stalker didn't even care enough to
send the very best. I immediately followed that with wondering whether or
not I might actually be insane for wondering why my stalker wasn't sending
me Hallmark cards. The card had a picture on the front of a sunset, and was
blank inside except for the handwritten message.

"I know your secret."

There were no clippings in this one, but the handwriting, again blocky and
all in capital letters, was naggingly familiar. I compared it with the
handwriting from the first letter, just to make sure it was the same, and
it appeared to be. I looked at the first envelope again, but I was sure I
didn't know anyone who lived there.

I tried calling Carla, but she wasn't home. Judging from the number of
beeps on her answering machine, she hadn't been home in a while, or at
least hadn't been checking her messages. I left her a message to call me on
my cell phone, and hung up.  Maybe she'd have some better ideas.

And what was up with that message? "I know your secret"? Was the next note
going to say that they knew what I did last summer? Actually, if they knew
what I was doing now, they had a pretty good idea of what I'd done last
summer, at least over one particular weekend. And what secret did they
think they knew? It was no secret anywhere that I was gay, so they must
know that I was dating one of the guys. Or maybe they were just assuming
that I was. The first message seemed to imply that.

Figuring that I shouldn't really leave this stuff lying around, I stuffed
it back in the suitcase, taking care to put it inside one of the pockets. I
wasn't really sure why Josh would be going in my suitcase, but being
careful just in case seemed prudent. Putting the suitcase back in the
closet, I pondered my next move. Clearly I needed to develop a list of
suspects. Who would want to send me letters about dating a celebrity? And
did I really need to be concerned? There wasn't anything overtly
threatening in either of the notes.  They were just creepy.

My musings were interrupted by the sound of knocking outside. I leaned out
our door, and saw Lance knocking on Justin's.

"He went to lunch with Josh," I said, trying my best to sound friendly.

Lance turned, shoulders hunched, looking almost guilty. He had huge bags
under his eyes, bigger than usual, and didn't look as if he had slept.

"OK," Lance said, turning away. He began to walk toward the stairs, and I
noticed that his shoulders were still slumped, and he was more or less
shuffling along.

"Lance?" I asked. He turned back. "Lance, are you ok?"

He stared at me for a second.

"Why?" he asked. "What do you want, Jack?"

"I just want to know if you're ok," I answered. He didn't sound angry,
really. He just seemed kind of wary.

"No, I mean really, what do you want from me?" he asked, cocking his head
to one side.

"I just thought you looked kind of down, and I wanted to know if you were
ok," I answered, confused.

"I'm fine," he said, turning around again. "Have a nice day."

He sounded about as OK as an alcoholic at an open bar, but I figured I'd
just let it drop. I tried, after all. It wasn't my fault he hated me. Going
back into the apartment, I settled onto the couch with my book, but hadn't
read very far when Josh walked in.

"Hey," he said, leaning over the couch. He pulled my head up and kissed me
on the forehead.

"Hi," I answered. "How was lunch?"

"Good," he answered, walking around to sit beside me. I stared into his
eyes as he took my hand, and thought of how much I loved him. "Did you and
Chris get everything done that you needed to?"

"Yup," I answered. That wasn't a lie, really.

"Good, because I want you to come somewhere with me," he said, standing. He
didn't let go of my hand, and I stood with him.

"Somewhere fun?" I asked, curious.

"Somewhere that I go to think," he answered. "We, um, we need to have a
serious talk."

***

No sex this chapter, but plenty of drama. Next one is coming soon.