Date: Tue, 16 Jul 2002 17:28:21 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: thieves - part 15

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.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy
constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy
flames, and will not tolerate them.

***

Dinner was a quick, but pleasant, affair for all of them. Wade assured
everyone that he had met with all of the crew members, and everything
tonight would be perfect, unlike the snafu they'd had a few nights ago,
where someone had jumped the gun on a pyrotechnic cue and singed Justin and
Chris. Troopers that they were, the two of them kept going, not missing a
beat despite the fact that one whole side of their bodies was stinging, and
afterward they both had red skin on their arms and the sides of their faces
and necks, as if they'd had a sunburn.

"You kept going, though?" Mitch asked, surprised.

"It's our job," Justin answered. "The fans come a long way to see the
shows, and they pay a lot for their tickets, so we just keep going, because
we're professionals, and it's our job. It wouldn't be fair to them if we
just stopped because someone missed a cue, and really it didn't hurt that
much, especially after Wade got me some moisturizer, because it stung a
little, and I think I lost some of the hair on my arm. It smelled really
bad, and it was all crinkly, but it broke off. Everybody makes mistakes."

"Some mistakes are inexcusable," Wade said bluntly, hugging Justin tightly.
When it had happened the other night he had demanded that they stop the
show immediately, and take Justin and Chris to the hospital, but the two of
them insisted that they were ok, and that they would continue. "You both
could have been hurt a lot worse. I don't know what I'd do if something
happened to you, baby."

"Luckily, nothing did," JC said, as Joey rolled his eyes.

"I just can't believe you guys got hurt and kept going," Mitch said.

"Like Justin said, it's our job," Chris said, shrugging. "We've done it
before. Joey hurt his leg once, and we kept going, and Justin and JC have
both chipped teeth on microphones before."

"Now that was painful," JC said, shaking his head. Everyone was quiet for a
minute.

"So what else did you guys do today?" Mitch asked.

For the rest of dinner they told Mitch about the interview and photo shoot,
their lunch with the fan club, and the radio station appearance from the
afternoon. The sound checks had gone ok, attended by other members of the
fan club, and the guys had signed a few things for them afterward. Once
dinner was over, Lance called a bodyguard to take Mitch to the VIP seats,
and Mitch carefully avoided being caught alone with Wade on his way
there. Wade, as tour staff, had to stay backstage, seeing to his own
duties, and couldn't follow Mitch to his seat to find out if he was taking
the money. Mitch was ok with that, wanting to put the confrontation off as
long as possible, if not indefinitely.

When the show was over they all piled onto the bus to go back to the hotel,
and Mitch again made a point of not being alone anywhere with Wade. The
guys were all tired, and Justin, lying across Wade's lap on one of the
couches, was demanding a lot of his attention, but each time Mitch looked
up he caught Wade's eyes, and the unspoken question in them. Lance didn't
seem to notice, resting with his head against Mitch's shoulder as Mitch
stared out the back window, seeing a bunch of fans cluster around the
barricades, waving. The bus windows were tinted so dark that there was no
way the fans could see them, but Mitch found himself waving anyway, and
heard a soft chuckle.  Looking up, he saw Joey smile at him, and he smiled
back.

When they got to the hotel, they all bid each other a good night. Wade and
Justin walked quickly to the elevators, followed by JC, who was practically
begging to be allowed to go to sleep. Chris and Joey decided to stop by the
hotel bar, to have a quick drink and maybe a snack, and Lance surprised
Mitch by walking him back outside to the curb, where a limousine was
waiting.

"Lance?" Mitch asked, leaning on his crutches as the driver pulled the back
door open for them. Mitch knew that Lance was tired, and that he really
needed to go to sleep, but maybe he was planning to sleep on the bus, since
tomorrow was another travel day.

"I didn't get to see you all day," Lance said, helping Mitch into the back
seat. "I missed you, and I wanted some time for us to hang out, you know,
just us."

"But where are we going?" Mitch asked.

"Nowhere," Lance answered, grinning. He pushed Mitch's crutches onto the
seat across from them, and raised the divider between them and the
driver. "I thought we could just ride around for a while, and see the city
at night, and just relax. I know you can't drink with the painkillers, but
there's sparkling cider in the ice bucket. We don't have to do this if you
don't want to, but I thought it might be nice."

"No, Lance, that's ok," Mitch said, sinking back into his seat. "I'd love
to ride around the city with you."

Lance had some quiet music playing, and they switched off the interior
lights in the passenger compartment so that the lights of the city could
shine in. As they slid through the streets, basking in each other's company
without really saying much, Mitch keyed the sunroof open, so that they
could feel the air, hear the sounds, and smell the places they passed, the
food stands and the river and everything else. The river didn't exactly
smell pretty, but the rest of it was ok, and as they sat side by side, they
gradually leaned a little closer to each other. At first, just their
shoulders were touching, but eventually their arms, and then their sides,
were pressed against each other, and Mitch, sipping his cider, wasn't
surprised when he felt Lance's head settle onto his shoulder.

Lance sighed contentedly, and Mitch didn't push him away. He wasn't sure
how he felt, but he'd come to terms with the fact that he cared about Lance
very much.  The fact that he was going to hurt him, that he had to, was
something he kept pushing away, because he just wanted to enjoy this night
with him. It was nice to be this close to Lance, to ride around like they
didn't have a care in the world, and Mitch felt his stress and tension
slipping away. It almost felt like he was on a date, a real date with
someone who cared about him, and he realized that, thinking about his life,
he'd never actually been on one.  He'd been to a few school dances with
girls, but he'd never gone out and spent an evening like this with anyone,
even if they were just riding around in a car.

Mitch heard a soft sigh, and when he looked down, Lance had fallen asleep
on his shoulder, his face peaceful. Mitch whispered through the speaker for
the driver to take them back to the hotel, and then he gently roused
Lance. Lance blinked at him, blushing, but Mitch just smiled, staring into
Lance's bright green eyes. They looked at each other, Mitch not thinking at
all and Lance thinking about how lightly blue Mitch's eyes were, like the
hint of blue in the middle of a glacier, and their faces began to slide
closer together. The limo glided smoothly to a halt, startling them both,
and they both looked away, blushing, the moment passed as they both
realized what they were about to do.  They went inside, both a little
dreamy and lost in their thoughts, neither noticing Joey and Chris on the
other side of the lobby. Joey and Chris saw them, saw the same dumb
lovestruck look on both their faces, and looked at each other, grinning.

"We should call JC!" Chris said, clapping his hands.

"We shouldn't wake him," Joey said, shaking his head. "No more sugar for
you, hyper boy."

They both laughed, watching the other two get into the elevator, happy to
see Lance happy. Lance and Mitch only had eyes for each other on their way
upstairs, or, actually, for each other's shoes, since neither looked at the
other's face. They somehow managed to get through their bedtime
preparations, and to actually climb into bed, without looking each other in
the eyes. Once they were both under the sheets, Mitch slid back, moving his
cast carefully to keep it from snagging the fabric, and spooned himself
against Lance, feeling Lance's arms slide around either side of him. He
felt very comfortable, and very safe. He felt a little guilty about reading
the diary, but he hadn't read anything about himself in it. Lance
apparently hadn't had time to write since meeting him.  Lance, for his
part, had decided somewhere during the day, when he had barely been able to
concentrate on anything, that he wasn't just smitten with Mitch. He'd
fallen in love with him somewhere along the way, and tomorrow night he was
going to tell him. He and Joey had come up with a plan, and Joey would help
him make it special.

"Lance?" Mitch asked quietly, feeling Lance's breath on the back of his
neck.

"Yeah?" Lance answered, thinking about how warm and soft Mitch's skin was,
his smooth back pressing against Lance's bare chest.

"I really like what you did tonight," Mitch whispered. "I know it was just
a car ride, but it was really nice, and it felt, um, it felt really
special."

"I'm glad you liked it," Lance sighed. "It was special for me, too."

When they woke up in the morning, it was another round of packing and
hurrying down to the bus. Lance and Mitch took turns in the bathroom, but
still went out to the curb together, meeting up with the rest of the guys
as they milled around by the bus. There was a lot of nodding and greeting,
and everyone seemed to be in a good mood.  Mitch had noticed the last time
that they waited until the last possible moment to get on the bus, probably
because they would spend the whole day there, and he understood. He wasn't
in a big hurry to seal himself inside there, either. He and Lance stood off
to the side, not talking, just kind of smiling at everyone, but not looking
at each other, and they were both startled when Lance's phone rang. Lance
pulled it out of his pocket, checking the caller identification.

"I have to take this, ok?" Lance said. Mitch nodded as Lance stepped
quickly away, and wondered why he needed space. Lance had taken any number
of phone calls with Mitch in the room, and didn't seem to mind if he
overheard, but now he was making a point of moving away, speaking in a low
voice. He watched Lance, not noticing Wade moving up on his other side.

"Morning, crutch boy," Wade said quietly. Mitch turned, and saw that Justin
was over talking to JC, leaving Wade free to wander over. None of the
others were around. "I'm still waiting for an answer from you."

"I don't want to talk to you," Mitch said, shifting. He started to move
toward Joey and Chris, who were both pointing at something in the newspaper
Chris was holding, and Wade put a hand on his arm.

"I want to talk to you, though, street whore," Wade said coldly. Mitch
flinched at the hostility in his tone, and the feeling of his Wade's
fingers digging tightly into his upper arm, but still met his eyes. "Like I
said, I'm still waiting for an answer from you."

"Like I said, I don't want to talk to you," Mitch said, pulling his arm
away. "Is this how you treat Justin when he doesn't feel like listening? Do
you grab him and get right up in his space?"

"No," Wade answered, smiling, his chest almost touching Mitch's. "I care
about Justin.  You, I give two shits for. Why are you still here, whore
boy?"

"Don't call me that," Mitch said defiantly, both of them keeping their
voices low. It was still obvious to the others that something was going on,
even if they couldn't hear it.  Lance, on the phone, hadn't noticed, but
Joey and Chris did.

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want to," Wade said, smiling that cold
reptile grin again. It wasn't so much a sign of good humor as it was a
simple flashing of teeth. Mitch tried to move away again, and Wade grabbed
his arm, tighter this time, his fingers clawing into Mitch's bicep.

"Everything ok over here?" Joey asked loudly, standing behind them.

"Fine," Wade said brightly, dropping Mitch's arm. "Just talking to our
friend Mitch."

"Mitch?" Chris asked, looking at him. Mitch looked away, staring at the
sidewalk and throwing a wistful glance toward Lance, who was starting to
walk back toward them.  "You ok?"

"I'm fine," Mitch said quickly. His voice shook a little, and he knew he
wasn't convincing. The simple truth was that Wade made him feel like
shit. "We were just talking. It was nothing. I just want to get on the bus,
ok?"

"Yeah," Chris said, nodding. Mitch didn't sound fine. He sounded upset, and
he was rubbing his arm. He might be trying to play it off, but Wade had
hurt him.  "I'll help you with the steps."

"What was that?" Joey asked Wade, after Chris and Mitch had walked away.

"You heard him," Wade said, shrugging. "It was nothing."

Wade walked away, heading for Justin, where he knew Joey wouldn't challenge
him, and Joey shook his head. Something was going on, clearly, but what?
He'd been able to tell from several feet away that it wasn't just a
friendly discussion. Wade had that same look on his face that he'd used to
bully one of the dancers who had a crush on Justin a while ago, and he
wondered if that might be the issue. Maybe Wade thought Mitch liked Justin,
although you'd have to be almost blind to miss the way he and Lance had
been staring at each other. Thinking about that, Joey turned to see what
Lance was doing, and saw that he looked a little annoyed with his caller.

"That has to be some kind of mistake," Lance said, his voice firm. "Look
again. They have to be there somewhere. Just keep trying, and I'll call you
back later, ok?"

Lance shook his head as he crossly dropped his phone back into his pocket,
wondering if he should call someone else to take care of this. Joey tapped
him on the shoulder.

"Hey," Joey said, his eyebrows raised. "You ok?"

"Yeah," Lance answered, patting Joey on the shoulder. "Just frustrated.
Don't worry. It's nothing."

"We still doing this tonight?" Joey asked, dying to ask Lance how the limo
ride had gone.  Lance and Mitch still looked like lovesick puppies when
they got to the curb this morning, but now they both looked upset and
distracted. Joey found himself wanting to kick Wade in the teeth again.

"Yeah," Lance answered, nodding. "Yeah, we are."

The bus driver tapped the horn, letting them know that it was time to
board, and the five guys on the sidewalk grudgingly climbed up the steps,
settling into their rolling home for the day as they pulled away from the
curb. JC climbed immediately into his bunk, as did Chris, both of them
yawning. Justin and Wade took one of the couches to play video games, and
Joey, Mitch, and Lance slid into the table, spreading out a Monopoly board
in front of them. It would be a good way to eat up the bus ride, and it
gave Joey an amusing opportunity to watch Lance and Mitch smile at each
other over the game board. Maybe they'd be ok after all, no matter what was
bothering them, but it still didn't explain what was going on between Mitch
and Wade. Joey made a mental note to talk to ask Mitch, and to talk to
Wade, as well, if need be.

At their morning rest stop Joey noticed that Mitch clung to Lance, trying
to be casual about it, but watching carefully to make sure that he kept his
distance from Wade. Joey debated waking JC and Chris to ask them about it,
but they were both so tired, and he knew that they needed their rest. They
would do the same for him. He thought about talking to Justin, but all he
had was knowledge that something was wrong.  Without knowing exactly what,
he was reluctant to put Justin in the middle of fighting that would just
confuse and upset him. When they got back on the bus Joey noticed that Wade
looked annoyed, glaring at Mitch when Justin and Lance weren't
looking. They all went back to their respective places, except that Justin
wanted to join the Monopoly game.  Since there wasn't a spot for him, Mitch
suggested letting him be the banker, and Justin happily accepted while Wade
looked through some business papers and read magazines for the rest of the
ride.

When they pulled in at the hotel, a large, rambling building with lots of
columns and potted plants out front, Mitch felt a sinking feeling
inside. The bus ride had gone by so quickly, and he was struck by the
fleeting sense of everything slipping away. This time with Lance was so
calm, and quiet, and it was almost gone. As they all climbed slowly off of
the bus, stopping to wake Chris and JC, who were now ready to go to dinner
and a movie, the manager of the hotel met them in the lobby. He welcomed
them to the city and the hotel, and explained that the building was listed
as a historical site.

"If you'd like, I would be more than happy to give you a tour of the hotel,
and illuminate the rich history that has unfolded here," he said
expansively. Joey snickered, which the manager took for interest. "Would
anyone else like to go on the tour?"

"Anybody?" Joey asked. He caught Lance's eye, knowing that Lance had asked
him to occupy Mitch for about a half hour, long enough for Lance to make
sure everything he had phoned ahead to set up was ready. The others were
all shaking their heads. "Mitch, you want to, right?"

Suddenly everyone was looking at him, and Mitch swallowed. If Joey wanted
him to do something, he didn't want to seem disagreeable, but he had no
interest in hopping around the hotel on his crutches for however long it
would take, just to hear that George Washington slept here, or whatever it
was the manager was planning to tell them. He remembered what Wade had
suggested, but none of the guys had treated him like they wanted him to
leave, and he didn't want Lance to feel like it would ever be a choice
between his friends and Mitch. He didn't want to cause any strain, because
Lance would need the others when Mitch was gone.

"I'd love to go," Mitch said, smiling. He turned to Lance. "You're coming,
right?"

"I have some stuff to do," Lance answered evasively, looking away. He
wouldn't meet Mitch's eyes, and Mitch thought of the phone call earlier,
before they'd gotten on the bus, the one Lance had walked away from him to
take. "I'll see you upstairs, though, when the tour is over."

"Yeah, have fun on the tour, though," JC grinned, as he and Chris trotted
off toward the elevators. The two of them were eager to get showered up and
then head out on the town, while Justin was looking forward to spending
some time alone with Wade.  Wade, though, had other ideas.

"I'd like to go on the tour, too," Wade said quickly. Justin blinked at
him.  Usually they got off the bus and went straight to their room. Wade
turned to him and leaned over, whispering in his ear. "But I want you to be
upstairs, ready, and waiting for me, ok baby?"

"OK," Justin said, grinning and blushing at the same time as he practically
skipped after JC and Chris, who were still waiting for the elevator. Lance
took Mitch's shoulder bag, noticing again that it was the one Chris had
given him yesterday, and told him to have a good time.

"Yeah," Mitch said, trying to smile as he glanced at Wade. At least Joey
was here. "I'm sure I will."

The three of them didn't talk to each other much as they dutifully followed
on the hotel tour, and Joey couldn't help but think that they were a rather
subdued tour group. If the manager noticed, he made no mention of it, and
when the tour was over, he cheerfully deposited them back in the
lobby. Joey looked at the other two, wondering if they'd gotten anything
out of it, since he couldn't remember a damn thing the manager had said.
He'd been too busy watching Wade try to get close to Mitch, and Mitch
deliberately, but subtly, keeping Joey between the two of them. If he was
going to get any clue of what was going on between the two of them, it was
time to force the issue.

"Well, guys, I've gotta go take care of some stuff," Joey said quickly,
moving away faster than Mitch would be able to follow.

"Joey, uh," Mitch began, startled. Joey was already halfway across the
lobby, and Mitch felt Wade's fingers closing around his arm again. He
pulled, but it was hard to get any leverage on the crutches.

"Now we can finish that chat we started earlier," Wade growled, pulling
Mitch over to the side of the lobby, to an alcove between a set of
pillars. Unknown to either of them, since they were both watching each
other, Joey was already circling back around. Wade looked around, and was
satisfied with their surroundings. No one could really see them unless they
were standing right in front of the pillars, and Joey's bodyguard, who had
quietly followed the tour, had left when Joey did. "So, Mitch, are we going
to the bank?"

"No, we're not," Mitch said firmly. He wasn't taking Lance's money, so he
wasn't going to take Wade's either. It would be nice in the short term,
hell, better than nice, actually, but taking it would do nothing to solve
the long term problem of Keith still being in striking distance of Lance.

"Why not?" Wade demanded, pressing his chest against Mitch's, glaring down
into his eyes. Mitch refused to step back, but inside, he was shaking. "All
you have to do is take the money and go. What are you really after?"

"I don't have to answer any of your questions," Mitch said firmly. "And I'm
not really after anything, ok? Maybe it's hard for someone like you to
understand that, since you're so good at taking, but that's not why I'm
here."

"You don't know anything about me," Wade snapped, but then his tone
changed.  He raised a hand, sliding his fingers along Mitch's jawline, and
Mitch pulled away, not flinching, but giving himself some distance. "But I
know all about you. You think anymore about that other offer? You and me,
Mitch. It could be really hot."

"You couldn't pay me enough to touch you," Mitch said, swinging his
crutches out of the alcove. Wade grabbed his arm again, almost toppling him
as one of his crutches skidded on the floor.

"Look, Mitch, I'll find out why you're here," Wade said. "And when I do,
I'll."

"You'll what?" Mitch snapped, pissed. He wasn't going to be bullied by
Wade.  He got enough of that from Keith. "Honestly, Wade, what, exactly,
will you do?  You're the one bullying me, remember?"

"And?" Wade barked. "What are you going to do about it? Tell Lance?"

"No," Mitch said, shaking his head. "There wouldn't be any point to
it. Just stay away from me, Wade, ok? You go your way, and I'll go mine."

"For now," Wade said, walking toward the elevators. "But when I find out
why you're here, what you're really after, I'll tell him. You can count on
that."

Mitch watched Wade walk into the elevator, the doors sliding closed.

"Asshole," Mitch breathed quietly.

"Yeah, he is," Joey said from behind him. Mitch turned slowly, his
shoulders thinking.  He'd gotten away from Wade, but he could tell from
Joey's face that Joey had heard everything. "Mitch, what's going on?"

"You heard, didn't you?" Mitch said quietly, stalling while he tried to
figure out what to do.

"Yeah, I did," Joey answered, trying to put it all together. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Mitch answered. He was sure that Wade had lied, and decided to
take the chance. "Wade offered me fifty thousand dollars to leave, and he
said it came from all of you, that you all wanted me to go. It didn't,
though, did it?"

"No!" Joey said harshly. "That son of a bitch! He promised he would leave
you alone!"

"It doesn't matter, Joey," Mitch said, shaking his head. It didn't. He knew
what he had to do, and there was no point in putting it off. It was time to
go upstairs and take care of the rest of this.

"Mitch?" Joey asked quietly. Mitch turned, and saw Joey watching him
carefully. "Mitch, please don't hurt him."

They both knew he didn't mean Wade.

"I'm, I'm trying not to," Mitch said quietly.

"Look, Lance would kill me if I told you this, but Mitch, he likes you,"
Joey said, and Mitch nodded. "He cares about you, and I care about him. I
don't know what you're doing here, or if it really is just that you're only
sticking around until your leg heals, but I want to trust you, I really
do. I've seen the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you, and I
just want to ask you again to please, please not hurt him."

"I'll do my best," Mitch said, looking away.

"I hope that's enough," Joey said, nodding. He believed that Mitch didn't
want to do anything really bad to Lance, believed that he wouldn't hurt him
if he didn't have to, but that didn't completely reassure him. He'd just
have to trust him, and hoped again that it would work out for the best as
he watched Mitch climb into the elevator.  That was only half the problem,
though. With what he'd heard, what was he going to do with Wade? He reached
into his pocket for his phone, knowing that JC and Chris would be carrying
theirs, and hoping they hadn't left the hotel yet.

Mitch nodded to the hallway guard, but realized at the door of the suite
that Lance hadn't given him a card. He tapped on the door, and was
surprised when Lance pulled it open, dressed in a suit and tie. Lance
grinned at him, his green eyes bright, and as he stepped aside to let Mitch
in, Mitch saw that the suiteroom was dark except for the candles sitting in
the center of a round table, set up where the couches should be.

"Come in, please," Lance said, taking his arm.

"Lance?" Mitch asked, looking around. The table was set with china and
crystal, sparkling in the candlelight, and he saw a food cart set up off to
the side, covered trays on top. Soft music filled the air.

"Come on," Lance said, pulling out a seat for him. "It's time for dinner."

"Lance, what is all this?" Mitch asked, even though it was obvious. This
was a romantic dinner that Lance had obviously worked very hard on. This
was why Joey had tricked him into that hotel tour, and this was why he felt
his heart sinking.

"It's dinner," Lance said, pushing his chair in for him as Mitch sat down.
"I wanted to have a nice, quiet dinner with you, and talk to you. Not only
that, but we're celebrating, too."

"We are?" Mitch asked. "What are we celebrating?"

"Wait, let me pour the wine first," Lance said. "I know you didn't take any
pills today, and if you'll skip them for the night, we can split the
bottle."

"Lance," Mitch began, shaking his head as Lance began to pour a glass for
each of them.  Lance was nervous, even though he was trying to cover it.

"Come on, just have one glass," Lance said quickly, trying to keep his
voice from shaking. "You need it for the toast."

"What are we toasting?" Mitch asked, picking up his glass.

"We're toasting your success," Lance said. He raised his glass, and tapped
it against Mitch's as Mitch's mind reeled. His success? With what? Wade?
With the plan?  "To you, Mitch."

Mitch swallowed quickly, his mouth very dry, his heart hammering, and he
put the glass down before Lance could see that it was shaking.

"Lance, what is all this?" he asked. Lance's smile slipped a little.

"Maybe this wasn't the right way to tell you," Lance said. He reached
across the table, taking Mitch's hand. "I just wanted to celebrate with
you. See, I was thinking about how you didn't want to, you know, take stuff
from me, and how you wanted to pay me back, and I, well, I found you a
job."

"What?" Mitch asked, blinking.

"A job, with us," Lance said, wondering what would happen now. "One of our
costume people is going on maternity. She thought she could make the tour
with us, but it's too much, and she wants to take the time off. That leaves
an opening, and I talked to the guys about it, and we want to offer it to
you. You'll be able to stay with us, and you can make money of your own,
and you and I can, well, we can still be close."

"You did this for me?" Mitch asked, feeling his eyes water.

"Yes!" Lance said. "Please, please say you'll take it."

Mitch pushed his chair back from the table, standing and pulling his
crutches under him.

"I can't, Lance," he said bitterly, moving toward the windows. "I can't
take the job from you."

"Mitch, please," Lance began. "This is your chance to get off the streets,
to build a life."

"My chance is already gone, Lance," Mitch said, looking out the window. "I
know you just want to help me, but I can't take this job. I can't stay with
you, and I can't do any of this. I just can't."

"Why?" Lance asked. Mitch turned, and saw pain on Lance's face that
mirrored his own.

"Because none of this is real," Mitch said finally. "This is all bullshit,
Lance, all of it. It's all a lie, a set up. It's a scam, Lance. This isn't
what you think it is, and I'm not who you think I am. Mitchell Hawk isn't
even my real name."

Lance sighed, and looked down at his hands. When he looked back up at
Mitch, his eyes were wet, glistening in the candlelight, but he wasn't
crying yet.

"Mitch, I know."

***

To be continued.